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by Adria
Rated: 13+ · Other · Fanfiction · #1028232
Stargate SG.1 FanFic. Jonas Hanson is back......
Jonas Hanson smiled as he flashed his ID at the airman on the gate.

"Nice to have you back, Captain," said the airman.

"Good to be back," he said, and continued through to the complex. He had not been here in many years, but the surroundings remained familiar to him as he walked down the corridor to his room. It was the same as he had remembered it to be. It was of course not the same room he'd had before, but all of the rooms were the same in the SGC. Pokey, with few facilities and dreary grey walls all around.
It was here that he'd met the woman of his dreams - Sam Carter. He smiled briefly at the memory of her, but his smile turned to a frown as he felt the small gold ring burning a hole in his pocket. Yes, she had been the woman of his dreams - but she had not thought that way about him.

He gripped the ring tightly in the palm of his hand, remembering how she'd thrown the thing in his face and stormed out on that fateful February evening. They had spent the previous Christmas together and it had been the best Christmas of his life - just him and Sam.
Their romance was short-lived, however, and over before it had even begun. In the five years that had passed, he had thought of no other woman than Sam. And now, finally, she was within his grasp once again. This time, he thought, she would not get away.

Sam sat in Daniel's lab, drinking coffee and filling him in on everything he had missed while he was ascended, including the antics of Jonas and the films he had missed.
She was so happy. Daniel was back in her life, the original SG-1 reunited after one long, lonely year without their favorite archaeologist. Now, though, everything looked like it was on the up. True, it had taken Daniel some time to readjust not just to the team, but also Jonas Quinn, and it had taken Jonas some time to adjust to having Daniel back again, but she was certain that the black cloud hung over her was well and truly gone.
How wrong she was.

(Jonas Quinn, it transpires, is off world with another SG team, so that he can't be confused with Jonas Hanson!)

Jonas sat down on the bed in his room and looked around it. He didn't start back on active duty until tomorrow, and General Hammond had not received his papers due to an 'accident' at administration. He had some surprises in store for his favorite girl before his presence would even be detected...

Sam yawned and stood up, bidding Daniel a good night. He smiled at her, and promised her that he would soon go home to bed also. She walked slowly and happily back to her lab, overjoyed with life and how it had turned around. Sergeant Siler saw her as she was walking to her office and smiled at her, happy to see her so pleased.
"Evening, Major!"
"Evening, Siler!" she replied with a smile, and went on her way.
Siler blushed at having the pleasure of her smile and went on his way.
She opened the door of her lab and went inside, forgetting to turn on the light. She walked over to where she knew her desk was and sat down, turning on the small desk lamp by her computer. What she saw laying on her desk startled her greatly.

It was a blood-red rose, like the ones...
Oh God, no! She thought, Just as my life is starting to look up again...
She stood up to back away from the flower but felt a hand clamp across her mouth and another at her waist. A very familiar hand. She struggled to free herself but her assailant had hold of her too tightly and she was unable to escape. She continued to struggle until she felt the cold blade of a knife pressed at her throat.
"Hey, Sammie," said the voice, "Miss me?"

Jack was walking down the corridor to Sam's lab when he noticed that her door was wide open. He frowned. Sam never left her lab door open - it was normally shut and locked whenever he tried to get in.
Curiously, he went inside. Everything was as it should have been. The computer was still on, scientific doohickeys scattered everywhere and piles of books on astrophysics. However, something was there that should not have been. On Carter's desk there lay a single red rose.
He frowned again, suspecting this was the work of Graham Simmons. Where on earth was Carter? His blood ran cold - she would never accept an invitation from Simmons, would she? He paused by the rose for a moment, before deciding to go and see Daniel.

Sam grimaced as her head struck the wall again, and she slid down to the floor with a growing feeling of nausea.
"You didn't like my rose, huh?" Jonas asked, coming closer to her. "Jonas, you don't have to do this," said Sam, but he was already raising his fist again.
She rolled over to one side and managed to get back on her feet, standing just a few feet away from him.
"Oh, but I do. I've missed you, Sam; I just want you to be mine again..." He swept her up into his arms, placing a lingering kiss on her neck.
She angrily pulled herself away from him. "I will never be yours, Jonas. I hate you!"
Then, his anger returned and a blow to her chest sent her spinning to the floor once again.
She found it difficult to breathe, every part of her body throbbing with pain. "I was never here," he warned her, and left the house, slamming the door behind him.

The next morning, Sam surveyed his damage in front of the mirror. As usual with Jonas, he would never mark her face - that way nobody could see what he'd done. Her arms were covered with various bruises from her shoulder down to her wrist, there was a large bruise across her stomach from when he'd kicked her and her back was sore from being thrown against the wall.
You're alive, she reminded herself. You're still alive.

Jack looked at his watch. Something was definitely up. Sam was never late for briefings. General Hammond coughed and looked at him.
"I'm sure she'll be here in a moment, sir," he said, throwing Daniel a look.
"I have no idea, Jack," he said. Teal'c raised an eyebrow.
Suddenly, Sam came into the briefing room, carrying a pile of folders.
"I'm sorry I'm late, sirs," she said, putting the folders down on the table and sitting down - a little too quickly on her bruised back. She bit back a hiss of pain and folded her arms, waiting for General Hammond to begin.
"Now that we're all accounted for, let us begin the debriefing. Yesterday you went to PBX-739. How did you....."

"Thank you, people, that will be all. Major Carter, a moment please?" asked General Hammond.
"Sir," she said, standing up.
"Why were you so late to the de-briefing this morning, Major?" General Hammond asked. Jack was still there, eyeing her suspiciously. He noticed that she had her sleeves pulled right down over her arms, when they were normally rolled up.
"I...I overslept, sir. I'm sorry, General, it won't happen again."
A thoroughly dissatisfied General let her go, but he didn't buy her overslept story for a second.
"I'll see what I can find out, sir," said Jack, leaving the briefing room in hot pursuit of his second in command.

"Carter!"
She stopped and took a deep breath.
"Sir?" she asked, turning around to face him.
"Wanna tell me why you were really late this morning?"
Sam frowned. "I just told you, sir. I overslept."
Jack folded his arms. "Really?"
"Yes, sir, really. Now if you don't mind, I have work to do." She said angrily, walking down the corridor to her lab.
"I thought the flower was a nice touch!" Jack called after her, "Gift from Graham, by any chance?"
Sam shuddered at the memory of the rose. "No," she said, closing the door behind her.

Jack frowned and went in search of the young lieutenant Graham Simmons.

Inside her office, Sam picked up the rose and shredded its delicate petals into the bin, throwing the remains of the flower in behind them. She was not going to let him ruin her life for a second time, no way. She sat down at her desk, gingerly rolling up her sleeves and starting to work.

Jack found Simmons in the commissary. He was sitting by himself, his head thrust deep into a book. Jack didn't even attempt to read the title, but he knew that it was something to do with wormhole physics.
"Simmons," he said, sitting down opposite the much younger man.
"Colonel!" he said, startled, almost dropping the book into his uneaten cup of jello.
Jack looked at the jello. "You're s'posed to eat that stuff ya know, not just look at it. You're as bad as Carter."
Simmons seemed to perk up at the mention of her name.
"Speaking of Carter," Jack said, "I would appreciate it if the two of you were to keep your personal affairs apart from your work."
Graham frowned. "I don't know what you mean, Colonel."
"Ya know - the rose, her being late for work!"
"Colonel, rose - what on earth are you talking about?" Graham was very confused.
"Do I have to spell it out for ya, Graham?"
"No, Colonel," said Graham, who then stood up with his books and left the agitated Colonel on his own. Graham went in search of Sam.

Sam heard a knock on her door. "Come in," she called, and then frantically began rolling her sleeves back down again.
She smiled as Graham Simmons entered. "Hi Graham," she said.
"Hey Sam. Uh...Is there something wrong with Colonel O'Neill?"
"Something wrong?" she asked, "Uh...no more than the usual, I don't think. Why?"
"Oh, n...n...no reason," he said nervously, his eyes flitting about the room.
"Graham? I can tell there's something you're not telling me." Sam smiled - he was really very cute when he was nervous.
"Well, he came up to me a minute ago and told me that we should, uh..."
"We should what?"
"That we should keep our personal affairs separate from work."
Sam frowned. "But Graham, we..."
"I know! I know that's why it was so strange. He thought I was lying - I think he was about to have a huge go at me so I just...kinda...ran off."
Sam sighed. "I'm sorry, Graham, I don't know what put that idea in his head. It certainly wasn't me."
"Not that I wouldn't mind," Graham added quickly, and then blushed terribly as he realized what he had said.
Sam smiled. No, I wouldn't mind either, she thought.
"Graham? Would you like a coffee?" she asked.
"Oh...uh...yes please, Sam, I mean Major Carter, I mean, ma'am..."
"Calm down. It's Sam!"
"Sorry," he said, sitting down and dropping his book on the floor. "Oh, I'm being such an idiot today..."
Sam shrugged. "We all have our idiot days. Mine's Thursday."
"Oh," said Graham, picking up the book and then promptly dropping it again.

Jack rolled a bit of paper into a ball and threw it at the wall of his office. Damn Carter and Simmons, he thought. Let them get into trouble on their own. Part of him was jealous that Sam would rather go out with Graham than him, and the other half of him was just angry that she'd let him interfere with their work.

Sam smiled as Graham attempted to pick up his book for the fifth time, and failed again.
"Graham, let me get that," she said, picking up the book and handing it to him.
"Thanks, Sam," he smiled, still very nervous.
"Graham would you like to go out for a drink tonight?" she asked.
"Yes!" Graham nearly shouted, "I mean, I'd love to Sam."
She grinned. "Good. I'll see you at O'Malleys at about 8:30?"
"S...sure!" he smiled, hurrying out of the room.
Sam sat back in her chair, pleased with the knowledge that she'd just made the man's night.

Jonas watched angrily as the young lieutenant retreated out of Sam's office. He waited until he was a safe distance away until he went in. She was less than happy to see him there.
"What do you want?" she asked.
Jonas walked over to the bin and looked in it, seeing the remains of his rose.
"That wasn't very nice, Sammie. I bought that rose especially for you."
Sam smiled sarcastically. "Aww, how sweet of you Jonas. That's really kind, considering I HATE YOU!"
Jonas grabbed hold of her and pushed her into the wall.
"That's not a very clever way to speak to me, now is it?" he asked.
"Let go of me," she said, between gritted teeth.
"You're my fiancé," he smiled, "I can do what I like."
"I was your fiancé, Jonas. Not any more."
She felt his fist make contact with her chest again and she fell to the floor.

Simmons looked at his watch. 20:27, it read. Dimmit, he was three minutes early. He shifted about uncomfortably on the stool, desperately wanting to make a good impression on Sam. He really liked her. She had the prettiest smile and her eyes...aaah, he loved her eyes. And... He nearly fell off of his stool as she walked in through the door.
She was wearing tight black leather pants and a jacket. Underneath the jacket she was wearing a wine-red top with a v-neck. He was completely blown away with her.

Wow, Sam thought, Simmons looks hot! He was wearing black, fitted trousers, a crisp white shirt with short sleeves and the top button undone, and a black jacket not unlike hers was slung over the stool next to him.
"Uh, sorry!" he said, taking his jacket off of the stool. "Sit down."
She took the seat next to him.
Simmons smiled awkwardly. "We have the same jacket," he said.
"So we do," smiled Sam. She had taken hers off before she remembered about her bruises, but by then it was too late.
Simmons frowned. "How did you get those?" he asked.
"I...uh...you know, SG-1 gets the most bruises!" she joked.
"But Sam, they're awful!" he said, "Surely you can't have got all of them from missions."
Sam swallowed, and Graham saw the look of distress on her face. He decided to drop it.
"What can I get you?" he asked.

General Hammond muttered angrily under his breath. Where the hell were those papers? He knew that there had been several new officers assigned to the SGC that week, but their files had mysteriously vanished. Dammit, where were they? His cursing was interrupted by a knock on his office door.
"Come in," he said.
"General?" it was Jack O'Neill, his 2IC.
"What is it, son?"
"I had a word with Major Carter. I don't think she'll be making a repeat performance."
"That's good. Uh...Jack...would you happen to know where the files went on the new officers assigned here?"
"Well, I think I had a copy of 'em, they must be in my desk somewhere," he shuddered.
"Could ya have a look for me, Colonel?" asked General Hammond.
"Sure, General," said Jack, leaving the office in a huff.

Graham and Sam were walking along the beach, beside the water. They'd been doing this for the past hour, just talking about anything and everything. He was still greatly concerned about her bruises. There was no way anyone - even SG-1 - could have sustained injuries like that.
"Sam?" he asked gently.
"Yeah?" she asked.
"Your arms..."
She sighed deeply. "Graham, I really don't want to get you involved in this..."
"In what?" he asked, stopping and holding her hands in his.
She bowed her head and bit down on her lip to stop herself from crying.
"Sam? Sam, I'm really worried about you. Please let me help."
"Jonas did it," she admitted.
"Jonas Quinn?" asked Simmons in shock.
"No, no, my ex-fiancé, Jonas Hanson."
"Oh. But Sam, you told me he was dead,"
A tear fell down her cheek. "I thought he was. But he's back at the SGC, and he won't leave me alone."
With that, she allowed the tears to roll down her face. Graham wrapped his arms around her.
"I won't let him hurt you any more," Graham promised.
Sam sniffed. She felt safe in Graham's arms, safer than she'd felt in a long time.
She lifted her head off of his chest and looked into his eyes. He smiled reassuringly at her.
"Thanks, Graham," she whispered.
Then, Graham did something that he thought he would never do. He leant in towards her to place a kiss on her cheek.
Sam moved her head away from him.
"Uh...sorry..." he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"It's okay," she said, "C'mon, let's go back home."

Graham kicked himself. Why the hell had he done that? He'd gone and ruined something special. Dammit, Graham! He thought, now she won't want to come near you again!

Sam hugged her knees to her chest. She hoped that she hadn't hurt Graham's feelings - it was just a shock. He was a wonderful man, and she'd just thrown him away. Jeez, Sam, your taste in men really needs some work!

When Sam walked into the briefing room the next morning and sat down, she found the eyes of her CO intently on her. It was beginning to annoy her when General Hammond walked in.
He was surprised to see Major Carter with her face resting on her left hand, obscuring her left cheek.
"Everything alright?" he asked. She nodded, leaving her hand on her cheek.
"Your mission to PBX-364 is scheduled for 0900 hours. I'd like you all to report to Dr Fraiser before you embark."
Sam's blood ran cold. Damn, now she was going to have to make up some excuses for Janet. That was a lot tougher than it sounded, because Janet Fraiser was very sharp - she could always tell when Sam was lying.
As she thought about her impending infirmary doom, she accidentally moved her left hand off of her cheek, revealing to her team mates a large bruise just under her eye.
Daniel frowned. "How'd you get that, Sam?" he asked.
She laughed nervously. "I walked into a wall this morning. Hadn't had my coffee yet," she joked.
Jack frowned. Had Graham been hitting her? He would have to have a word with her.
Once the briefing had finished, Sam made her way quickly to the infirmary, wanting her ordeal to be over with as soon as possible. On her way down, she passed Graham's office. She paused for a moment outside the door, and then knocked.
"Come in," a voice called.
"Hey Graham," she smiled.
"S...Sam?" he stammered, getting to his feet and knocking a sheaf of papers on the floor as he did so.
"Graham, I wanted to apologize for last night. I hope I didn't give you the wrong impression."

Jack paused outside Graham Simmons' door. He could hear Sam talking to him. With no shame at all, he began to eavesdrop on her conversation.
"It doesn't matter, Graham."
"I...I never meant to hurt you, Sam. I just got...caught up in the moment."
Jack's eyes widened. Graham had hit her? He heard some movement inside the room and made his exit, storing that piece of information in his mind.

"Oh, Graham, you didn't hurt me. I was just not expecting it, that's all."
"So...you still like me?" asked Graham.
Sam smiled, stood up and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Yeah, I think so."

General Hammond paced angrily. Damn those accounting people - they couldn't even deliver him a group of personnel files! He'd already seen four of the five new cadets, but because he didn't know who the last one was he couldn't order them to see him. He was having a very bad day.

Sam went to the infirmary and sat down on the bed next to Janet. She hated these examinations. They were regulation, of course, but it was more like ritual humiliation. All of the SGC dreaded their exams - even General Hammond.
Reluctantly, Sam slipped off her shirt, revealing the bruises up her arms.
Janet gasped. "How did you get those?" she asked.
"It was our mission the other day..." Sam's voice trailed off as she realized Janet was looking at her post-mission log. She raised her eyebrows at Sam.
"Well that's funny - it says here that there wasn't a mark on any of you."
Sam swallowed. Damn.
"Sam? Is there anything you need to tell me?" Janet asked gently.
"No, I'm fine. Just a little clumsy, that's all."
"Hmm," said Janet disbelievingly, and continued the examination.

Sam emerged from the infirmary half an hour later with a sigh of relief. Janet hadn't said anything. Now all she had to do was go home and hope that Jonas wouldn't be there. She shuddered at the thought of him, and continued walking to her lab.

General Hammond heard a knock on his door.
"Come in."
"General? Are you busy?" It was Doctor Fraiser.
"No, doctor, come in and sit down. What is it I can do for you?"
Janet shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I feel guilty telling you this sir, what with patient confidentiality and all, but..."
"Get to the point, doctor."
"General, Major Carter has some worrying bruises on her arms and upper body that certainly weren't there when I last checked her."
General Hammond frowned. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Doctor?"
"Well, General, the only other time I saw her with bruises like that was when...Jonas Hanson was still alive."
He folded his arms. "Doctor, Captain Hanson is dead. He was flattened against Earth's iris - Major Carter told me that herself."
"I know, General, I was only saying. I just wanted to inform you."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"Oh, General - Colonel O'Neill is outside - he said it was urgent."
"Thank you, doctor."

Sam left the base in her car, shortly followed by Graham. However, a silver rental car started following Graham and he didn't appear to notice.
Jonas sat behind the wheel of the rental car, resisting the urge to ram the younger man's car into a ditch. No, he thought, I can make it much worse than that.

"General, I heard a rather worrying conversation between Sam and Lieutenant Simmons this morning."
"Go on, Colonel."
"Well, Sam said something about 'It doesn't matter, Graham,' and then he said: 'I never meant to hurt you, Sam. I just got caught up in the moment.'
General Hammond looked at him. "Caught up in what moment, Colonel?"
"I don't know, General. I just thought that, well, maybe, you know..."
"That he'd been hitting her?"
"Yes, sir."
"Colonel, need I remind you that this is Lieutenant Graham Simmons we are talking about? I very much doubt he'd have the strength to do that to her."
"General, can you not at least entertain the idea that I might be right?"
Hammond smiled. "Not usually, Jack, but maybe I will make an exception tonight."

Sam relaxed in a hot bubble bath. She'd been longing for one since the morning's medical exam that had surely rumbled her to Janet. All she wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep.

Graham heard a knocking on his front door. Surprised, he got up and opened it a little way. He was shocked when it was pushed open with very strong force and a man pinned him against the wall.
"You must be Graham. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said sarcastically.
"And you must be Jonas," he said. "What do you want?"
"I want you to stay away from my girl," said Jonas angrily, squeezing Graham's neck tighter.
"O...oo...kay," he squeaked.
Jonas released his grip and threw Graham to the floor.
Seeing him eyeing the telephone, Jonas took a knife from his pocket and slashed the telephone wires. "Don't even think about calling her, Graham," he smiled evilly and left.

Sam frowned. Graham's phone was normally on at this time of the evening. It was only 6pm. She replaced the receiver, but froze when she heard a small sound coming from downstairs. She reached for her handgun, but to her despair she realized that she'd left it downstairs on the table. There was definitely somebody down there.

Graham heard another knock on his door. He was surprised to see a very angry looking Colonel O'Neill accompanied by a grumpy looking General Hammond outside. "Come in," he said, trying to hide his reddening neck.
"What can I do for you, sirs?" he asked.
"Simmons, I'm afraid Colonel O'Neill has a very serious allegation against you."
Simmons frowned. "What kind of allegation?"
"That you've been hitting Major Carter."
Simmons' mouth fell open. "No, Colonel! You've got it all wrong!"

Sam felt her blood run cold as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
Frantically, she slid the lock across the bathroom door and picked up her cell phone. She wouldn't usually risk having her phone in her bathroom, but this was one hell of an emergency. She was dialing Graham's cell phone number when there was a thud against the door, making her jump.
"I know you're there, Sammie," said an all-too familiar voice.
She kept very silent, backing away from the door.
"Sammie, are you going to open this door or will I have to BREAK IT DOWN?" he yelled.
She hit 'dial number'.

"You've put two and two together and made eight!" Graham shouted.
"I'm afraid that until we have some proof of that you're under arrest, son."
"WHAT?"
"Are you going to come quietly Simmons, or does this have to get messy?"
"FUCK OFF!" he yelled, very un-characteristically. "I would never hurt Sam - I LOVE HER!"
Their argument was cut off by his cell phone ringing.
"Simmons."
"Graham!"
"Sam? What's the matter, what's that noise?"
"OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!"
"Graham, I'm locked in the bathroom, but this door isn't going to hold for much longer!"
Graham heard some loud crashing noises. "I'll be right there," he promised.
Just then, there was an almighty crash and a shriek from Sam - then the phone went dead.
"Sam?" he asked desperately. There was no reply.
"Simmons? Are you ready?" asked Jack.
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" he asked. "JONAS HANSON IS AT SAM'S HOUSE NOW - HE'S GOING TO KILL HER!"
"Jonas Hanson is dead, Lieutenant."
"Yeah, it really sounded like that when he was breaking down her door!" said Simmons, throwing the phone on the floor and pulling on his jacket.
"You're not going anywhere," said Jack, reaching out to grab Graham.
It was then that Graham did something very, very stupid.

Jonas stamped on the cell phone and pulled Sam onto her feet by her hair. "Talking to lover boy, were you?" he asked.
"Jonas, let go of me!" she said desperately, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. She failed. He had her pinned against the wall with all of his bodily strength.
"I've had enough of this life, Sammie. I want to be with you, somewhere we can be together forever."
He pulled her gun from his pocket, still managing to keep a hold of her.
Sam's eyes widened. "You're going to kill me?" she asked.
He smiled. "A murder suicide, Sammie. I kill you, and then I kill me. Simple as that."
He snapped the safety off of the gun and put it to Sam's stomach.
She swallowed. "Jonas, you do know that a bullet to the stomach is the slowest and most painful way to die?"
"Don't worry," he said, jamming the barrel further into her stomach, "I'll be right here,"
Sam struggled against his grip but he viscously hit her over the head with the barrel of the gun, knocking her out.

Graham grabbed the gun and took off before the angry, probably broken-nosed Colonel started to run after him. He had to get to Sam before Jonas did anything stupid.

General Hammond's cell phone rang.
"What?" he answered angrily.
"General, we have found the files of the new recruits. Would you like to know their names and ranks?"
"Yes," he said, trying to find a box of tissues for Jack's bleeding nose. "Lieutenant Marie Harrison, Captain Jonathan Margiles, Lieutenant Rose Chastworthy, Lieutenant Nathaniel Dean and Captain Jonas Hanson."
"WHAT? Could you repeat the last name for me, please?"
"Captain Jonas Hanson."
General Hammond looked at Jack.
"Simmons was right - Hanson's alive."

Jonas dragged Sam down the stairs and threw her onto the couch, winding her. "Don't worry, Sammie, I'll be right here through the pain," he smiled, edging closer to her on the couch.
"Leave me alone!" she yelled, kicking at him with all of her strength.
He grabbed hold of her ankles and squeezed them tightly. Sam grimaced as she heard her bones cracking.
"Just stay still for me, Sammie, and it'll hurt less. I promise,"
Suddenly, the front door burst open and Graham Simmons rushed in, brandishing a gun at Jonas.
"Get the hell away from her!" he yelled.
Sam realized with horror what Jonas was about to do.
"GRAHAM! HE HAS MY GUN!"

Sam's warning came just too late.
With amazing agility, Jonas spun around and fired at Graham, hitting him in the stomach. This allowed Sam time to spring up from the couch, but just as she was about to scream, Jonas turned around to face her, gun in hand.
"Stay still, Sammie. I don't want to hit your pretty face."
Graham groaned on the floor as his wound began to spill blood all over the carpet.
"Jonas, you don't have to do this!" she said.
"Oh, but I do, Sammie. That way we can finally be together, none of your 'Grahams' to get in our way!"
Jonas' hand closed in on the trigger.
"Jonas, please!" she begged.
He came closer to her and took her into his arms. She could still feel the barrel of the gun pressed into her stomach.
"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, placing a deep kiss on her neck and pulling the trigger.

Sam was enveloped in a blinding flash of pain and fell to the floor in agony. She could see Jonas' blurred figure above her, watching her slowly dying. With all of her remaining strength, she crawled towards Graham, leaving a streak of blood on the carpet.
He didn't look good. The colour had drained from his face and his eyes were beginning to roll.
"Graham?" she whispered, an overwhelming feeling of nausea coming over her.
"He's dead, baby," said Jonas, "Just like you will be soon."
She groaned as a wave of pain hit her and she rolled over onto her side, trying to clear his face from her dying thoughts.
He stood up and went over to her. Gently, he laid his hand on her wound. "It won't be long. Don't be scared, Sammie."
Graham's eyes focused on the gun in Jonas' hand. His limbs ached and screamed in protest as he tried to reach for the gun held loosely in Jonas' hand.
Fortunately, he was too involved with taunting his dying ex than paying any attention to the weapon that was killing them both.
The whole ordeal was suddenly over for Sam, who was enveloped in a dark, cool blanket of blackness as her eyes closed.
Jonas stroked a finger across her cheek and reached for the gun to shoot himself when he realized that it was missing.
In horror, he whirled around to see Graham Simmons pointing the gun at his head.
"Bastard!" Graham whispered through bloodied lips, and pulled the trigger. Then, he too was enveloped in the dark blanket and closed his eyes.

Sam opened her eyes to see white all around her. She wondered where the hell she was.
She tried to speak, but her mouth could not form any words. There was a dull ache in her stomach and she felt sick. Just then, a familiar face appeared above her.
"Sam?"
Sam looked at the woman. She knew it was Janet, but couldn't say the name. She closed her eyes in despair.
"Sam, it's me. You're okay - I don't know how, but the bullet missed most of your organs and your spine. We had to take out your spleen, but you're gonna be okay."
"G....r...aham?" she asked softly.
"He's fine too. Turns out Jonas had a pretty crappy aim. He'll be up and about in no time."
"Jonas?" she asked.
Janet swallowed. "He didn't make it, Sam. When we got there we found you and Graham on the floor, and Jonas with a bullet in his head."
Sam closed her eyes. Her nightmare was over.
"I'll see you later. Just try and get some sleep, okay?"
For once, there was no argument from Major Carter.

Two weeks later, Sam sat up in her hospital bed, looking in boredom at the television. There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," she said, smiling as Graham entered her room with a bunch of flowers bigger than his head.
"Hey, Sam. How're you feeling?" He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her.
"Not too bad, considering I had a hole blown in my stomach. You?"
"Same," he said. "Sam, I'm sorry I didn't get there earlier."
"It doesn't matter. Graham - was it you who shot Jonas?"
He swallowed. "Yeah. I thought it was going to be my dying act, you see, and you looked to me like you'd already...gone. I wanted to make the bastard pay."
"Thank you," she whispered.
"No problem," he replied.
She looked into his eyes, and he into hers. He slowly leant in towards her and kissed her. This time, she did not pull away from him. He slid his arms carefully around her waist and kissed her again. The two of them eventually fell asleep on Sam's bed, curled up and at peace in each other's arms.
THE END


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