Bombshells Series 3 Part 105

Part 105

** WARNING: This next chapter contains scenes of a graphically violent nature. It involves the rough beheading of an alien as witnessed by the SG-1 team. If this kind of detail will squick you, may I suggest you write to me at slida-qb@usa.net and I will send you a less graphic version (but not tonight, I'm off to bed!).

As this encounter occurs in the second half of this chapter, a few paragraphs from the bottom of the page, I urge you to read the first half involving Philip and Graham anyway - that will not be rewritten in the less graphic version.

While not my usual nature to be so graphic, it was how the story came to me and so it had to be written that way. No one in SG-1 is hurt though (for once!) - that might settle a few of you :)

Cheers. Slida.

When the morning light crept across the pale floor rug and up the rounded calf of the sleeping man the phone jangled beside the bed loudly. Philip took only a mere second to wake up, stretch for the receiver and slide himself into a half lying, half sitting pose, as he expectantly answering the call; "Hello?"

"Oh.. Hello.." The hesitant female voice said on the end of the telephone line.

"I think I must have the wrong number.." As she spoke a loud yawn exploded from within Philip, rendering him speechless for a moment. "Sorry to have woken you."

"What number were you after?" He could finally ask on the crest of the yawn.

"It's not important," the caller said with embarrassed mirth. "I'll.. I'll try dialing again. Hopefully this time I'll get it right."

"Wait," Philip said quickly. "Who were you after?"

"A man by the name of Jack O'Neill," She said hastily then added, just as quickly, "I've obviously dialed the wrong number. I'm really sorry that I woke you up."

The long buzz, indicating that the caller had hung up, burred in Philip's ear for a split second while he sat puzzled by the call. He lifted the receiver from his ear, stared at it a moment before he twisted and set it down on the cradle beside the bed. He checked the time; it was a little after eight. Who'd call anyone at that hour? And why was she so nervous?

He brushed back a tangle of hair from his eyes then allowed his hand to slap against his bare midriff as yawned again and stared across the room at the picture he'd painted of him and Jack; sunning themselves on the white balcony of a blue roofed home in Santorini. He'd started having recurring dreams about being there all alone and sunning himself while an exotic stranger, with light colored hair, swims past in the nearby water. Each time the stranger passes by Phil sits up in his deck chair, lifts the dark shades from his eyes and watches entranced as the sleek, strong body slices its way through the surf. The stranger moves off without even noticing Philip watching him, and the artist is left to settle back against his chair, unfulfilled in his desire to know who this man is.

Philip used to wake up with the firm belief that the stranger was Jack - but sometimes now he wasn't so sure. He wondered what a 'dream analyst" would say about his dream. Exotic locations? Strangers passing by? Unfulfilled - he'd venture. That's what they'd tell him the dream meant. Something in his life passing him by, but what? Jack? Another love affair? Santorini itself?

His mother, Rosa, came from this Greek Island with her family as a small child but Philip only knew of it from pictures in the books in the school library. All his life he and his brother and their parents grew up in The Bronx, New York, amidst the noise and hubbub that accompanied living in such a situation. The pristine white beaches and homes in small friendly villages, such as they were depicted in the picture books of the Greek Islands, were so far from his reality that Philip wondered if the place really existed.

As a child he would dream about escaping his life and going to find this Utopian existence, while he sat alone on the stoop of their apartment block and idly drew images in the dirt on the step beside him with the tip of his wetted finger. His dreams were usually interrupted when one of the tough kids of the 'hood came by, flicked the curls of his hair that his mother always kept too long for his liking, and teased him for his pretty face, his long eyelashes, his pink lips and for generally just being 'different'. He'd had the word 'gay' applied to him even before he knew he was one himself - but then again, they also called Marty McTaggart gay too, and he grew up to have five boys by one wife and a set of twins with his mistress. What did those kids know, eh?

Idly his fingertips drew a lazy pattern on his partly smooth, partly hairy stomach. No more dirty stoop steps for him! He may never have found the Greek Islands, though he now knew they really did exist, but he found a Utopian world all of his own, within this house and with his gorgeous partner.

He tucked a folded arm behind his head and stared at the likeness of Jack in the image above the dresser on the far wall. It seemed impossible to Philip that he wouldn't see him again, but part of him wanted to prepare himself for that possibility, just in case. For a second he imagined having to get up each day of his life knowing that he'd never see Jack's face, hear his voice, or feel the warmth of his arms and body anymore.

After a shaky breath he quickly remonstrated himself for allowing such stupid thoughts to play out in his mind, then he pushed himself off the bed and went over to the door. Instead of grabbing down his silk kimono he wrapped himself in Jack's heavier toweling robe and inhaled the scent of aftershave ardently as he shuffled out of the room.

Christmas would soon be on them he pondered as he pressed on the door and went into the kitchen. Only a few weeks left now - and it looked more and more promising for a white Christmas this time than any other year he could recall. As he pottered around preparing his breakfast of cereal, orange juice (freshly squeezed) and strong black coffee he thought about a present for Jack.

What would he like? What would he need? The artist bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he gave that some thought. In the middle of pouring out his cup of coffee the kitchen door burst open and Graham came in. Philip, so surprised by the unexpected interruption, slipped with the stream of hot coffee and poured it out over his hand holding the cup.

"Holy SHIT!" He screamed as he dropped the pot and it shattered on the floor beside his bare feet, spraying his foot with boiling coffee and shards of glass. "Christ!" He leapt backwards and tried to avoid any further burning.

"I'm sorry!"

Graham raced to the stricken man and first checked his foot, which had small splinters of glass embedded in the soft skin of the arch of his foot, then he looked up at the angry red hand. "I'm sorry..' He muttered again as he led his brother to the faucet and passed his hand under the running cold water to ease the burning.

"Not your fault. I was miles away-" Phil grimaced at the pain then gave a whimper at the back of his throat as Graham tended to his flesh wound. "Is my foot okay? It's throbbing."

"You've got glass in there. Here, sit up here.." Graham said, grabbing him around the waist and hoisting him backwards onto the stainless steel sink before Philip cold protest. He doubled over to look at the foot covered in blood. "Do you have a new dish cloth?"

"In there.." Phil pointed a shaky finger to the drawer beside Graham's hip. Quickly the lieutenant, trained in First Aid, rinsed the clean cloth and dabbed the blood gently from the foot in order to see the glass more easily. Intermittedly he ensured that Phil kept putting his hand under the stream of running cold water to aid his burning skin.

With neat, manicured nails, he managed to tweeze out the splinters and then he rinsed the cloth again and pressed it to the foot firmly as he looked into the dark brown eyes. "Sorry!"

"You said that. Three times now," Phil said through teeth gritted by discomfort.

"I wasn't thinking.." Graham said as he peeled the dishcloth away and watched for more blood. None came so he turned and dumped the cloth into the sink then leaned his hands on the edge of the cabinet, either side of his brother's thighs, and looked him straight in the eye. "You'll live."

"There's no point in trying to bump me off just yet," Philip said as he reached for, and lifted his foot closer to his face, showing an extraordinary amount of agility. He blew across the damp flesh gently then added, "I haven't changed my Will yet." Philip gestured to the cabinet under the sink when Graham seemed to be looking for something.

"Damn, well tell me when you have," the older man said as he pulled out a banister brush and pan to sweep up the broken coffee pot. "I'll come by with the strychnine."

"Yeah, yeah," Philip muttered then used his arms to push himself off the counter, completely sailing over the squatting man in his task of clearing up the mess of glass and coffee, and then he landed over by the door. "Ouch!" He hopped and looked down at his foot while he started out through the door.

"Don't bleed on the carpet!" Graham mumbled as he twisted on the balls of his bare feet and deposited the soggy pan full into the trashcan.

He was locating the instant coffee when Philip returned to the room, a plaster across the side of his foot. Without a word Graham finished his task then passed him over a cup of coffee before he turned and leaned back on the cabinets with his arms folded over his chest and one hand carefully cradling his cup.

Philip glanced at his foot as he said, "This is their fault - you know that don't you?" His voice was strained, as though he was forcing himself to be cheerful. That reaction concerned Graham, who had many years of training and conditioning to fall back on when something like this - so out of his hands - happened to him. He wasn't infallible, though - after all the man he so desperately loved was also missing - but he was more concerned about Philip's reactions and the dark circles under his eyes indicating his rough night sleep, than he was about his own concerns at this moment.

"Apart from the foot, how are you feeling?"

Philip's ebony brow furrowed while he gave that question some thought. As he lifted his cup to his mouth he finally said, "Strange." With a sad sigh he added, "It's like it's not real. That I'm going to wake up and it all be a bad dream, but then I know.. he's not here. He's not around me...." His voice shook on the last sentence so he quickly gulped down some of his hot coffee to give himself a moment to recover.

Graham nodded. He was so in touch with those feelings - especially right now. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Do you?.." Philip snapped back and met Graham's wide-eyed stare. With a jerk of his head slightly he said, "I mean, my man's not the only one out there.."

Graham reached up and tugged on his itchy ear as he sighed loudly. "I can't talk about it.."

"Can't - or won't?"

Graham kept his eyes downcast as he shrugged then said, "Won't, because I can't?" He wet his lips with a dart of his tongue as he met his brother's eyes. "I might slip up, you know.. say something I shouldn't.."

Philip growled deeply as he rolled his eyes. "I'm your brother! Of course you can talk to me, for crying out loud! Stuff the stupid fuckin' rules for once."

"Phil.."

"No, stuff them!" His voice grew louder and more agitated. "Grae, our partners are out there, somewhere.. and they are LOST!"

Graham was at first taken aback by Philip's angry outburst then he shook his head and told him calmly, "Yelling at me isn't going to make you feel better."

"No?" The wiry man put his cup down and looked at Graham with narrowed eyes. "Well, you're wrong about that!"

"How?"

"I LIKE YELLING!" He flung his arms wildly then blew out a harsh breath as he dropped his hands onto his hips. Graham stared at him a long moment then suddenly they both burst out into laughter - not entirely humorous laughter, but more the kind of frustrated, angry and disbelieving laughter that often erupted at moments of complete frustration. "Oh God, I sound like Jack.." he chuckled edgily as he rubbed the ball of his hand into his eye.

"Should I shoot you now?" Graham joked just as tensely.

"I'll hold you to that if he doesn't come back.." Philip said then gave Graham a look that clearly told him he meant it.

The older brother's voice was hoarse when he whispered, shakily, "I shouldn't have said that. Please, let's not joke about that. I almost lost you a few weeks ago. I can't laugh about it.. not yet.."

Philip screwed his eyes up tightly then covered his face with both hands.

"Oh God!" He groaned and threw his head back to look up at the ceiling. "Tell me this gets easier?"

Graham swallowed and shook his head. Philip growled again then went over to his coffee and took another sip. "I'm going to go crazy staying here waiting. Do you want to come to the Gym for an hour or so?"

"No, I should head home. Can I use your phone to call the Base?"

Philip swept his hand towards the phone on the wall and Graham stepped over to it and dialed the number from memory. The younger brother hovered beside him, nervously chewing on his thumbnail as he tried to catch the conversation from the other end.

The foursome was somber as the first light of day crept into the tiny cell. Jack was resting against the door while Sam leaned against his shoulder, the weight of her head had cut off the blood supply to his hand and his fingers were numb.

"Carter," he whispered dryly and she lifted off his arm to look at him.

"Sir?" Her unused voice caught in her throat and she coughed softly.

"Thank you."

She frowned, and then saw he was flexing his hand. "Oh, sorry Sir." He nodded then tried to swallow to relieve his parched throat but all it did was cause a stinging sharp pain of dryness that cramped down his throat and sent prickles of tears into his eyes.

"Water, water everywhere.." Jack muttered. Daniel, propped against Teal'c's shoulder, frowned as he stared across the narrow cell at Jack.

"Jack?"

"Present."

"Are you okay?"

"Sure."

"Sure?"

"Why?"

"What did you just say?"

Jack opened his eyes and met the puzzled blue gaze. "Water, water.." he repeated croakily then added, "I was just thinking how stupid it was that my bladder is almost bursting while my mouth is so dry I can't spit..."

"Why would you want to spit, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked as he opened his eyes slowly.

The colonel screwed up his face; he didn't have the patience, or the voice, to explain this. "Figure of speech," he told him succinctly.

The fine black brow arched high. "I see."

Jack shifted his gaze to meet Daniel's still-worried expression. "The wind will change and you'll stay that way.. Oh!" Suddenly the room echoed with the sound of the lock on their door being slid back and soon it was being shoved, sweeping aside Jack who couldn't get to his feet fast enough. "Jesus Christ!" He flinched when his over-full bladder protested to the unexpected movement. "Give a guy a chance to get to his damn feet!" As he straightened up there was a waif of a woman before him with wild white hair and even wilder eyes. With twittering movements she looked around at each of them in turn then back to Daniel when she heard him greet her in a hesitant voice.

"Hello.." His trademark smile flittered over his face as he tilted his head slightly and laid his hand on his chest. "I'm Daniel Jackson. You are?" He held his hand towards her. She studied his hand then met his eyes and frowned. He tried again by touching his chest when he said his name then pointing to her once more. Again she looked at his hand but gave no indication of understanding him.

"Cut the crap. Ask her where the damn bathroom is!" Jack groused.

"I'm trying to communicate.." Daniel informed him testily.

"And I'm trying not to become a man-made fountain, so hurry it along will you, Daniel!"

"I'm with him," Sam told Daniel then suddenly the girl swiveled around to look at her. Her head twitched like a small sparrow's as she inspected Sam's face closely.

"Sam," Daniel said cautiously. "Say something else."

"What?" She asked, suddenly uncomfortable with the scrutiny. The girl frowned and peered closer while Sam backed up against the wall.

"I don't know.. Anything.. Tell her they have nice weather here.." The linguist rambled, buoyed on by the fact that the alien seemed only interested in Sam, so he saw a possibility of a break through in communication there.

"Need *I* offer a suggestion..?" Jack said plainly. Sam glanced at him then back at the girl who was really beginning to invade her personal space now.

"Bathroom.." Sam muttered with a tentative smile as she tripped backwards. "We need to use the bathroom.."

As the girl continued to back Sam into the corner Jack had a look out of the cell and noticed that there didn't appear to be anyone else out there, and - most importantly - no one with a big gun. He glanced at the girl, and then took a side step out through the door. His movement caught Daniel's eye and the anthropologist watched as Jack disappeared through the door and out of view. Now he turned and saw that Teal'c had also seen this. Sidestepping behind the girl Daniel soon followed Jack out of the cell.

"Hey!" Sam called out when she saw him leave. "Hey! Where are you going! Ah.. Hi.." Her attention was drawn back to the girl who almost had her nose against her mouth. The wild-haired alien sniffed Sam's breath and the major muttered, between clenched teeth, "Yeah, I know. Jan's always bitching about my morning breath.. so if you'd like to back up there.. a little..." However, the girl came closer and closer until her whole body pressed up against Sam's. "Perhaps I should tell you I'm very happy with my partner at the moment. She might be little but she packs a punch and she's the fiercely jealous type.. No? Hmmm... Teal'c, you maybe wanna help me here?"

The Jaffa reached for the girl but she turned on him, snarling like a rabid dog at his hands. With quicksilver speed she'd torn a hole from his forearm, leaving a gaping gash behind. He recoiled sharply.

Sam's voice rose in horror as she saw the damage. "Oh God! Are you alright?"

Teal'c had clapped his hand over the tear and now he slowly lifted his blood-covered fingers to inspect the damage. "It is deep but my symbiot will prevent infection."

Sam shivered when the alien turned back towards her. She sensed a danger she hadn't sensed before but again the alien went back to sniffing and nudging her, no immediate show of threat was evident towards Carter. Sam wondered if that was because she was female too.

"Maybe back off there a little, Teal'c," She now suggested with a dry mouth as she continued to arch back away from the foul-breath of the alien. With renewed light-heartedness she asked, "So, where were we?" A soft deep rumble of a growl in the back of the alien girl's throat pushed putrid breath across Sam's face. "Whoa!" She coughed and tried to turn her face away. "I see we both have a problem with morning breath.."

Jack entered the cell and as he did he rapped his knuckles on the heavy wooden door. "Hello..." He called out much to the relief of Sam. The girl turned towards him and frowned. "Hi.. I wanted to complain about the showerhead in my suite."

With unexpected speed the girl twisted and lunged for Jack, snapping and snarling and reveling her razor sharp teeth to him. Caught off guard Jack tried to leap out of her way while Sam cried out, superfluously, "Colonel, look out!"

Before the alien could reach her mark Teal'c had managed to grab her mid-leap and stopped her from devouring Jack with her jagged teeth. Frantically the girl struggled, kicked and growled at her captor but she was not strong enough to impact on Teal'c's strength, despite his wound.

"What the hell happened?" Jack said when he noticed all the blood on Teal'c's arm.

"She bit him."

"She bit.. you?" Jack looked at the Jaffa.

"Her teeth are quite sharp," Teal'c informed him stoically.

"So I see.." Jack said with a glance at the sore again. "Is that going to be okay?"

"I will be fine," Teal'c reassured him as he held the writhing girl.

Jack watched for a moment then said, "Good," before he turned to the woman jiggling beside him.

"Find a bathroom, Sir?" She asked with a pained expression.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Third cell on the right.." he said with a jut of his thumb over his shoulder. Sam slipped through the door quickly so he turned towards the power struggle in the corner.

"It's a cliché but... Take me to your leader.." he told the girl.

"Should we not try to escape, O'Neill?"

Jack shook his head. "You saw how easily they picked us off before when we had weapons. We wouldn't stand a chance unarmed." Then he looked at the alien, still squirming within the tight hold, "But you, my feral young friend, may just be our bargaining chip home."

"I wouldn't count on that," Daniel said as he came back into the room.

"Why?"

"Surely you saw the stakes outside, Jack."

"Outside? You went outside?"

"Yeah-" Daniel frowned then screwed up his nose when he realized what Jack meant. "You didn't?"

"I used the cell three doors down," the colonel told him flippantly.

A look of sheer disgust filled Daniel's face. "Jack!"

"What?" He shrugged. "They're the ones that kept me in here.. they can clean up the mess!"

"Sir, there was no bathroom three doors down on the right," Sam said as she returned to the room.

Daniel's face fell again. "You sent her there too?"

Jack stared back at him. "What?"

Sam frowned. "What? He said three doors on the right. You meant left. Right, Sir?"

He slowly shifted his wary gaze from Daniel and onto her. "Right.." he said unconvincingly.

She looked at Jack warily then turned her attention to Daniel. "Where did you go?"

"Outside," he told her then looked at Jack.

The colonel sighed shrugged then said, "Look, it's not important right now.."

"Ewww!" Carter stepped away from him when she realized what they were talking about.

"Oh, forcryingoutloud," Jack muttered under his breath then he stepped up to the writhing girl and said, "So how about it, kid?"

"Jack, what I was trying to tell you..." Daniel was suddenly cut off when a large, hairy creature stood in the doorway, filling it so completely that he blocked off all view behind him.

"Holy.. Hairy Guys.." Jack breathed out slowly. The alien girl stilled in Teal'c's arms then she started kicking and grunting again, only this time she was trying to get away from the large beast.

From the corner of his mouth Daniel muttered, "That's what I was trying to tell you."

Jack whispered back, also from the corner of his mouth. "What?"

"There's a whole family of creatures like that girl out there, staked on the edge of the woods."

In a singsong voice the colonel told him, "You should have said something, Daniel..."

"I tried.." the younger man returned then stepped aside as the huge hairy alien came into the cell, stole the girl from Teal'c's arms and twisted his hand into her long hair. The team stood stock still as they watched, then in horror they saw the creature twist and yank hard on the girl's head, wrenching it viciously from her body. The sound of cracking bones and snapping sinews turned every stomach in the small cell. Sam dry retched and slammed her hand over her mouth, while each man reacted in his own way. Jack screwed up his nose and top lip while Daniel flinched and looked away. Teal'c merely arched his brow and then tilted his head as he watched the creature offer him the dead girl's severed head.

"Oh.. god.." Sam muttered through a thick voice.

"I think he wants to share his kill with you, Teal'c.." Daniel explained.

"We are *not* having that head in this cell," Jack argued.

"If we don't it might become insulted..." Daniel looked at Jack. "And we might be next."

"Who's to say we're not anyway? Look at her. She's like us. These creatures obviously eat creatures like.. us, Daniel."

They all fell silent as the hairy alien held the head out towards Teal'c once more. Reverently the Jaffa reached both hands out and allowed the head to be placed in his palms. Sam groaned as she watched blood drop to the floor in a rapid trickle. Teal'c straightened up and gave the other alien a sharp nod in gratitude. The red eyes of the beast cast over the others in the room then he turned and left, kicking the heavy cell door closed with the back of his heel.

Jack raced over to the door just as it latched shut and he thumped his fist against the hard surface as he muttered, "Dammit," under his breath.

Sam stared at Teal'c then asked, anyone, "What are we going to do with that?"

Daniel stepped aside as Teal'c moved to the corner with it and squatted to gently place it down, facing away from them. Jack sighed then removed his jacket and squatted down beside him to cover the mess from view.

"It gets cold in here at night, Sir," Sam told him in a quiet voice. He met her dull eyes and simply nodded and got to his feet again.

"Let's hope we're not here another night, Carter."

"We can all take turns keeping you warm, Jack," Daniel said.

Despite the recent events and his unsettled stomach Jack couldn't help but grin wryly at that comment. "You first, Daniel?"

The younger man sighed and shook his head. He was in no mood for joviality. "You know what I mean.."

Jack settled down onto the hard floor and leaned his folded arms onto his raised knees. The moment was passed and the gravity of their situation came crashing down on them all once more.

"Yes," he mumbled solemnly as he checked his watch then rubbed both hands over his face. "I do."

Sam inhaled a deep breath through her nose as she glanced over at Daniel. He blinked then sighed and looked down, stepping away from the corner with the head in it. Teal'c watched him go over to the window, stretch up onto his toes and inhale some fresh air deep into his lungs.

Concerned about him, Teal'c moved to Daniel's side. "Are you all right, Daniel?"

"Feeling a little nauseous, actually," he muttered honestly then blinked rapidly as he lifted his eyes to meet Teal'c concerned gaze. The Jaffa patted his shoulder then the two men fell into companionable silence in that position while they remained staring out of the window.

Disclaimer and Copyrights

Stories on this page are the property of Nessessitee and Slida. Please do not copy these without the written permission of the Author. All Rights are acknowledged for MGM, Gekko and Stargate Productions as to the Copyrights of the characters within this story and no infringement on the copyrights are intended. For the Bombshells Series the character of Philip Simmons is entirely the creation and intellectual property of Nessessitee and Slida.

While the performances given by RDA and MS help to fuel the author's desire to write for their characters in a niche that she feels is present on the actual show, the portrayal of their characters in loving relationships in no way reflects the Author's opinion of the men's private life, nor should it be construed in that manner.

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