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"I want to know who betrayed me." The voice was low...dangerously low...and quiet. Dark eyes moved from face to face. Took note of exactly who was present, and who wasn't. Two chairs were empty. Had they been working together? The young man pushed himself to his feet, stalked around the board room. He should have been in phase three of his plan by now! Instead, he was still marooned on this planet! He'd had no word from his fleet. And he'd been betrayed. Kinsey wasn't ready to take his place on the Board. Not yet. Soon. Very soon. He frowned. Had the two missing men realized that one of them would be...removed...in order make room for Kinsey? He'd been meticulous in his operation of Pyxis Enterprises. The Board had always consisted of ten men. Would always consist of ten men. Perhaps he'd been lax in allowing them to know too much. And now two men had deserted him in an attempt to save their own worthless lives. He had his own investigators looking. The two missing Board Members would be located. And punished.

"We've located...survivors...for one of our missing Board Members," Taylor said quietly. He pushed a file toward his Master, his heart pounding against his ribs. His chances of dying in the next few minutes were fifty-fifty. But he'd done what he believed necessary to protect his Master, and The Plan. If he was to die, as long as it was the Master who took his life, he'd ask for no mercy.

Tem flipped through the pages of information. Took note that Taylor had already made an offer of employment. He debated on whether or the man should be punished for taking such steps without permission and approval, or commended for moving so quickly in order to...rectify...the situation. "Very good, my pet," Tem smiled. "Your plan is acceptable. Continue as you have outlined here. And let me know when our new guest arrives."

With a smile of relief, giddy with delight that he'd pleased his Master, Taylor sat back in his chair. When the meeting had been adjourned, he'd put the final measures into action. By the end of the week the most important of the two straying pets would be returned to the fold; he was positively certain of his success.

Waving a perfectly manicured hand, the Goa'uld dismissed the men who watched him carefully. Took the elevator to his penthouse apartment.

Kinsey was waiting in the corner, his face lighting up at the sight of his Master.

He watched the silver haired man for a moment, compared his reactions to those of a well trained dog. Smiled at the thought that the two were identical. Oh, the man didn't have a tail to wag, that as true. But the swelling of his cock was just as affective. Chuckled when he remembered that Kinsey had been seen and photographed often with a dog that he cared for. "Soon, my pet. Soon."

Kinsey had no idea what the words meant. Soon for what? That he'd be allowed to pleasure the Master? He didn't bother to worry about it. He need only respond to each and every command. He had only to please the Master, it was what he lived for.

"Bailey!"

The servant appeared instantly. "Yes, sir?"

"I need a drink. Then order dinner."

"Yes, sir."

Tem stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows, looked out over the city. The sphere was sitting on the coffee table, innocuous in its presence. Dark and silent. He barely resisted the urge to throw the damned thing across the room. Surely they'd received his message! Why hadn't he received a signal of the impending arrival of his fleet? A frown creased his brow. Unless...had someone else discovered the ships that he'd so carefully hidden? The thought that what belonged to him might be in the hands of another Goa'uld made the fire of his anger burn hotter. He would rule this planet, the First World. Where mere slaves had dared to stand against their gods, and had won their freedom. Slaves who'd sent the mighty Ra into exile. He'd take control, and prove himself to be the greatest of all gods. And all would bend their knees, and bow before him, and swear their loyalty...to him...to Tem! "Soon," he whispered.

A  A  A  A  A  A

Daniel sniffed appreciatively when he walked into the kitchen. "Smells great in here," he said.

Casey glanced over her shoulder, flashed a smile at him, unaware of how it nearly made his knees buckle. "Two pumpkin pies. Do you think I should bake an apple pie?"

He slipped his arms around her waist, watched over her shoulder as she arranged the cooked sweet potato slices in the casserole dish. Each layer was covered with brown sugar and a bit of real maple syrup. "I love your apple pie," he replied softly. "But I think the two pumpkin pies are enough." He didn't add that the only reason he thought so was because she'd been cooking all day; she wouldn't stop until everything was ready for their first Thanksgiving together. And he knew she was tired.

She'd spent the morning polishing the silver that she'd inherited from her Grandma Rose. She'd shooed Daniel from the kitchen numerous times during the day, as he snitched bites of whatever she happened to be working on. He'd been completely banished to his den when he'd filled his hands with the warm pumpkin cookies she'd baked for their guests. "Well, considering that I want this to be a 'traditional' meal, I guess the pumpkin pies will do."

"Babe, with all that you have planned, there will be more than enough food," he replied.

She wiped her hands on a nearby tea towel, and turned in his arms. "I want everything to be perfect for you," she said softly.

He smiled. From the moment he'd met her, she'd filled his heart and soul with her sunshine. He'd never been as happy as he was with her. "Just being with you makes everything perfect for me," he whispered. Grinned against her hair when she snuggled into his arms.

There were times when he said things that were so sweet she just had no clue how to respond to them. Times when he made comments that went straight to her heart, burying him there ever deeper. Times when his words brought a lump to her throat, and tears of joy to her eyes. She tightened her arms around his neck. "I love you," she sighed.

"Love you too, Angel." He closed his eyes, held her as tightly as she was clinging to him. They'd barely returned to the States before she'd been assailed by nightmares, conjured images twisted around bitter memories of her imprisonment by Ba'al. Last night was the first night she'd slept peacefully. He had hopes that she'd do so again tonight.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"I need to finish this," she said softly. "And then...I think I should take a bath."

He pulled away from her just far enough to be able to look down into her green eyes. "Really?"

"Mmmhmm. That bath last night did wonderful things for me."

He grinned. They had relaxed in the tub, the jets flowing and pulsing against their aching muscles. He'd indulged himself; touching her, caressing her, his hands moving over that beautiful body again and again and again. When they'd finally pulled themselves out of the water, he'd carried her to the bed, and slowly, gently worked her lotion into her skin. And then he'd made love to her until she'd delighted him with that soft scream of pure rapture, her body trembling and shaking beneath him. "Liked that, did you?"

"Very much."

"Let me know when you want me to start running the water."

She gave a little shiver of delicious anticipation. When she'd crawled into the bathtub with him, she'd been so tired she'd feared falling asleep in his arms. They'd talked softly, the light from the candles flickering over the walls around them. His hands had remained in motion the entire time, soft gentle touches that relaxed as well as aroused. As soon as they'd dried each other, he'd carried her to the bedroom, gently massaged her lotion into her skin, and then he'd driven her out of her mind. She'd never forget the look of sheer glee in his eyes after she'd screamed her release, when he'd finally allowed her to take flight. Tonight she had every intention of exacting revenge. "Shouldn't be too much longer," she promised.

He pressed a kiss against the side of her head, reached around her and grabbed a piece of brown sugar coated sweet potato, popped it into his mouth, avoided the jab she aimed toward his ribs, and walked down the hallway. The candles were still where they'd been the night before. He found the book of matches, and began to light them. A thought danced through his head, an idea that wasn't half bad. He went back out to the kitchen. Found two wine glasses. A bottle of the Arbor Mist Blackberry Merlot that she loved so much was sitting on the counter, not yet put in the 'wine cabinet' as she called the cupboard where she kept their supply of liquor and wine.

Casey watched him, couldn't help but smile when he winked at her as he walked by, a bottle of wine and two wine glasses in his hands. She shivered again. She never could have dreamed of her life being as wonderful as it was with Daniel. They'd endured much, it was true, their hearts had been wounded by the circumstances that had assailed them, each situation a result of their involvement with the Stargate Program...and his position as The One. Daniel had discussed leaving SG-1 in an attempt to protect her; it hadn't been easy to dissuade him of the idea. When she'd finally pointed out how much he loved going on the missions, how his insatiable curiosity would never allow him to remain behind as his best friends walked through the event horizon into worlds unknown, he'd grudgingly agreed with her. She sighed. Only a man who loved her deeply would be willing to give up something that meant as much to him as going through the Stargate meant to Daniel.

The timer began to buzz, and she carefully put the pies on trivets. She turned the oven off, for the first time in hours. The cookies were arranged on one of Grandma Rose's silver trays, covered with plastic wrap to keep them fresh.

The recipe for the pesto dip promised to be quick and easy. Thankfully it was...fifteen minutes later and it was in the crowded fridge.

The bread cubes for the stuffing were toasted and seasoned, and were now cool enough to put into the bowl and cover. The white potatoes had been peeled and diced and were ready to cook, sitting in a bowl of water. Two bowls of cranberry sauce were ready and chilling. Finished at last, she put plastic wrap over the casserole dish that held the sweet potatoes, and sat it in the refrigerator.

With a sigh, she turned off the kitchen light. Wandered into the den. "You can start running the water now."

Daniel looked up and smiled. "Good," he replied.

"I'll be just a minute," she said, walking into the bedroom. She carefully lit the candles, turned back the comforter. Fluffed the pillows and piled them against the headboard. Took out the toys. She wanted the bedroom ready for them...ready for her 'special plan'. A smile crept over her face as she thought about the books she'd read. Daniel had told her that she came up with very good ideas. She found the majority of them in her 'bodice rippers', steamy romance novels with suggestive artwork on the cover. That he was willing to indulge her fantasies, to try new positions, or 'play games', as he put it, amazed her. And convinced her that she had found in him the perfect man. She bent over to pick up a pair of discarded socks and boxers that hadn't made it into the hamper. Well, maybe not perfect. But damned close!

He was already in the water by the time she entered the bathroom. She undressed quickly, watching his eyes as she did so, the look of love...and need...that filled those blue depths made her shiver. She'd washed her hair that morning, so she clipped it up and out of the way.

He held out his hand. "C'mon, babe. Water's just fine."

She giggled, and stepped into the tub, settled between his legs, her back against his chest. Her head dropped back onto his shoulder. "Oh, this feels nice," she murmured.

His hands were moving over her shoulders, down her arms, up to her breasts. "Yeah, it does." He'd already poured the wine, he picked up the glasses, offered one to her.

She took a sip. Mmm...perfect. Another sip. And another. She snuggled back against him. Life just didn't get any better, did it? "Did you ever think that marriage could be like this?"

He smiled. "I don't know that I really thought about it," he admitted. "I guess I was afraid to let myself think about it."

"I was too," she confessed. "But even when I did think about it, I never dreamed it could be like this."

His smile widened. "Does that mean you're happy, Mrs. Jackson?"

"I'm so happy, it scares me sometimes," she said softly.

"Me, too." He clinked his glass against hers. "To happiness."

"Our happiness," she replied. Finished off the wine in her glass, handed it to him. Watched as he put both empty glasses on the floor beside the bottle.

He gave in to his desire, and began to plant kisses on her soft shoulder. Her nipples hardened against his palms, he could feel her breathing speed up. Simple touches, kisses, could set her on fire. He shook his head mentally. No, his kisses, his touches, could set her on fire. A fact that brought him immeasurable joy. He licked his way from her shoulder to her neck, began to nibble on her earlobe. Felt the reaction in the shiver that moved through her.

His touch...caresses or kisses, always started the fire of passion, of need, that burned deep within her. She tilted her head to the side, allowing his lips to continue their journey over her skin. His hands were kneading her breasts, his fingers tugging at nipples that continued to harden. She gasped slightly when his tongue moved over and then into her ear, she shivered again when she felt his arousal pressing against her lower back.

"You taste good," he whispered.

"What you're doing feels good," she whispered in reply.

"Ready to wash?"

She giggled. "We don't get to relax with the jets on?"

He pulled away from her, looked into her eyes when she twisted around to face him. "If you want to turn the jets on, we'll turn them on."

"Let's get washed," she whispered.

There was something in her eyes, something...playful...needy...he could see the lust burning in the emerald depths. He shivered involuntarily. She was up to something. He could feel it. "Let's get washed," he agreed.

She turned around, rose up on her knees, reached for his washcloth and soap. Began to gently, lovingly wash him. Her fingers trailed after the soapy cloth over his shoulders, down his arms. Back up to his armpits, down his chest and belly, each side getting the same loving attention. She washed his back when he leaned forward. Added more soap and washed his legs, his groin, that fine ass.

He closed his eyes, let his head fall back as her hands moved over him. Smiled against her hair when she leaned forward to nibble on his throat. She'd barely begun to rinse out the washcloth when he grabbed her scrunchy and poured her shower gel onto it. Took his time washing her back...her arms...her shoulders...her breasts...her belly. He slid soapy fingers between her thighs, cleansed her gently, thoroughly.

They were both beginning to breath heavily by the time they'd finished rinsing one another. Towels were moved lovingly over damp skin, Daniel reached out and unclipped her hair, watched it tumble over her shoulders and down her back. Loved the way the curves of her breasts and those enticing pink nipples peeked from between the silky locks. He smiled when she took his hand, tugged gently, led him to the bedroom.

"Get comfy, Doctor Jackson," she said softly.

The toys were out. The massage oil was out. Oh, hell yes! Play time! He grinned, settled himself in the middle of the bed. Watched her climb onto the mattress beside him, her hand reaching for the oil.

"Roll over, Stud Muffin. You gave me a massage last night. It's your turn tonight," she said.

He willingly complied. Rested his chin on his hand, smiled contentedly when her soft hands, slick from the oil, began to move over his shoulders. Each touch was gentle...so full of love it was tangible. The fragrance of the candles and the oil, the tender touch of her fingers as they moved along his back, up and down his spine, over his shoulders, lulled him; his eyelids began to droop.

"How many times have we used the handcuffs?" she asked softly after several quiet minutes.

He was instantly alert. He'd clicked the fur-lined cuffs around her slender wrists several times; and she'd submitted so sweetly each and every time, allowing him to do as he pleased, taking as much pleasure from the activity as he did. "I dunno, four, maybe five."

"Roll over, sexy," she whispered.

He obeyed. Looked up into green eyes that danced with fire.

She lowered her head, began to kiss him, suckling on the full lower lip that could distract her so easily when he was talking, especially during briefings. She traced his lips with her tongue again and again before shyly accepting the invitation to know the warmth of his mouth. She touched him, tasted him, her tongue dancing with his.

When he began to struggle to control the kiss she willingly acquiesced, allowing him to touch, taste, take from her what he wanted. Her fingers were moving over his face, into his hair, then back down to his jaw. That so turned him on! He put his arms around her, pulled her close, held her tightly.

He growled softly when she moved her lips from his. With an inner smile she returned her mouth to his, allowed him to continue to take what he needed from her. The moment the kiss was over, she was in total control. And she was determined to make him scream his surrender to her, just as he had demanded from her.

Her lips were moving over his jaw, down to his throat. He gasped when she marked him, the titillation sending fingers of fire up and down his spine, making his already hard cock stand straight up. He couldn't help but sigh when she suckled on the muscle behind his ear.

He tasted good. The warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips sent shivers of pleasure over her body. She took her time moving from one ear to the other, planting tiny kisses over every inch of his throat. She enjoyed licking and sucking on his Adam's apple, the gentle pressure always made him swallow...which pleased her. As she performed her ministrations on his body, his hands continued to move over hers, up and down her back in slow, gentle circles.

She moved down to his shoulders...the broad shoulders that she loved to cling to, that her arms encircled whenever she was able hold him. Again soft kisses over the warm skin, the firm muscles beneath that tanned flesh twitching from the attention. Taking one at a time into her hands, her focus moved to his arms and hands...the arms that held her so tightly, the hands touched her so gently. His breath was coming faster, he was leaking precum as she continued to move with deliberation, kissing his knuckles, sucking each finger into her mouth, her eyes locked with his. "Wrap your hands around the spindles," she commanded softly.

Once again he obeyed, his body responding to the soft words. He had no idea what she was up to. But he was willing...eager...to do whatever she wanted.

She leaned over, opened the drawer of the bedside table, took the cuffs from their place. Made certain that the key was easily reachable. She clicked the handcuffs around his wrists, on the far side of the brass spindles. He wouldn't be able to lower his arms until she released him.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Now I see just how much pleasure I can give you," she replied sweetly, smiling down at him.

Oh hell. Gonna die. Gonna have a heart attack and keel over before she lets me fly, he thought, shivering with anticipation.

She sat back on her heels, running one hand lightly over his body, from his throat to his hip and back again. Building the anticipation...for both of them. She leaned forward, began to kiss and lick his chest, watching his face as she did so.

He was watching her now, as she moved over him. There was no doubt in his mind that she was...and had been...worshipping him; he could see it in her eyes, feel it in every touch, every kiss, every stroke of her tongue over his skin. How incredible was that? He wanted to reach for her; the handcuffs held him in place. The need to touch her, hold her, was nearly as strong, as deep, as the fire that she was building was hot.

"I love you," she murmured against his skin as she moved over his chest, her lips never leaving his body. "I adore you. I need you."

He smiled. "I love you, Angel. I adore you. I need you. I want you so much!"

"I'm yours, Daniel," she whispered. She let her tongue move over his flat, brown nipple, teased the hard bud until it was pebbled against his skin, moved to its twin to repeat the process. Her hands were moving over him, down to his abs, although she avoided the hard male flesh that throbbed and waved, begging for her attention.

It took her a full thirty minutes to make love to his hips, his legs, his feet. He was going to explode, his need an excruciating ache in his balls, his cock so hard it was almost painful. He was well aware of the fact that even when those soft hands were wrapped around him, that warm, sweet mouth was making love to him, she'd continue to torment him.

The moan that filled the air when she finally took him into her mouth made her smile inwardly. He was as close to the edge as he could get without falling over. Each time he began to throb hard and fast, his hips moving with more intensity, she let him fall from her mouth, began kissing his thighs, his hips, running her fingers through the coarse, soft hair that surrounded his swollen manhood.

"Oh, god, Casey," he moaned. "Please!"

Oh, yeah, that's what I want to hear, she thought, giggling to herself. Beg, baby, beg! She glanced up at him. Saw him lick his lips. Hmm...she was worked up. It would be much easier to continue...pleasuring...him, if she wasn't so...hot, wouldn't it? With a wicked smile, she straddled his shoulders, looked down into blue eyes full of lust and need and love. "Do you want to taste me?"

"God, yes!"

She positioned herself over his face, holding tightly to the headboard. "Make me come, Daniel," she demanded. Gasped out loud when she felt his tongue begin to move over her own aching flesh.

So damned sweet! He licked at the wet folds that he loved so much, before sending his tongue in search of more of that sweet nectar. She seemed to be as needy as he was, her ministrations to him affecting her almost as much. Her clit was hard and swollen, and he pulled away for a second just to look at her, enjoying the sight of that little nub of pleasure as it peeked from its pink hood. How much farther would it come out if he continued to tease it? Determined to hear her cry out before she drove him completely insane, he began to move his mouth over her; kissing, licking, nipping gently.

"Oh, god," she hissed. The man was definitely determined to do what she'd asked...demanded...of him. It wouldn't take her long to reach the peak with what he was doing! Before he could send her over the edge, she pulled away, turned around, took his throbbing cock back into her mouth, settling her hips over his face once again. With renewed determination, she began to lick and suck him, her tongue moving over the sensitive underside until his hips were jerking with each pass.

Sweet Jesus! He wanted...needed to touch her, hold her...and the little minx knew it. That was why she'd cuffed him down. To prevent him from taking control, from rolling her to her back and pounding into her warm, willing body. He was so damned close! He focused all of his attention on her sweet little twat. She was going over the edge first, if it killed him!

She found the rhythm he needed. Tried to ignore what he was doing to her...for her. She smiled when she heard the telltale clink of the handcuffs as he tugged against the spindles of the headboard...again. She gasped against him when he took her aching clit between his teeth. If he started teasing her with his tongue again, she wouldn't be able to hold out...

Her hips were dipping toward him with each flick of his tongue, the honey pouring from that sweet well...when she moaned, her body shivering above him, raining sweet nectar down on his face, the stimulation was more than he could take. He gave in, let go, his eyes rolling back in his head as he sent warm, creamy white love down her throat, throbbing as hard and fast as her sweet well convulsed around his tongue as he drank greedily from her.

She dropped to her side, her body still shivering. That hadn't gone exactly as she'd planned! She'd wanted to give him pleasure...wanted to drive him out of his mind. And he'd just sent her spinning into the clouds!

Satiated, for the moment anyway, he relaxed against the pillows behind him. Smiled when she sat up, gently ran her hands over his shoulders and arms. He turned his head, tried to reach her breast as she checked to make certain he wasn't in any discomfort.

Determined to stick as closely to her plan as possible, she looked down at him, brushed his hair from his forehead. Leaned forward, and let him suckle at nipples so hard they hurt. She cupped her breasts, held them, let him move his mouth back and forth from one pink tip to the other. She moved away slowly, caressed his cheek as she sat back on her heels. "You like to watch me with the toys, don't you?" she asked softly.

"You know I do."

"We're going to try something a little different tonight," she informed him.

"We are, are we?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Something...kinky?" He loved to tease her. Often what she considered to be kinky really...wasn't.

She giggled. "Oh, yeah." She stopped, frowned. "Well, maybe. I think it's kinky. But then, I'm not well read on...well...on kinky stuff."

He couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up. For all of her 'knowledge' about sex, garnered from sex manuals and romance novels, her passion when making love, she was still an innocent. He'd never forget the look on her face when she'd raced into the living room to tell him what she'd found, her eyes so wide and panicked that at first he'd been afraid she'd 'seen' something. He'd followed her into the den. Listened to her explain that she'd been looking for information about one of her hybrid rose bushes, when an 'unusual' site had come up. Which had opened to another site...a porn site...of bestiality. She'd insisted that the images of women with various animals had to be 'faked'. Couldn't believe that such things actually existed. Wanted his 'expert' opinion on the entire matter. When he'd explained that there were people who did indeed have sex with animals, her already wide eyes had widened even farther. She'd mumbled under her breath, shuddering every so often for the rest of the day. He'd gone to the garage to laugh at her, unwilling to hurt her feelings by doing so where she could hear him. "Whatever it is," he said softly, "if we enjoy it, it's no one else's business."

It never failed. Whenever she was worried that what she was doing, or wanted to do, bordered on...unacceptability, he always reassured her. "I'm pretty sure we're going to enjoy it," she whispered. She reached for the oil. Poured a few drops on her fingers, and oiled up her toy. She glanced down at him, noted that the anaconda was still firm, but not hard. With a deep breath, she took the vibrator ring, and quickly slid it around him, making certain that the vibrator itself was properly positioned, the way she wanted.

What the hell? What was she up to? He watched her slide her toy into that sweet well, mesmerized as she moved it slowly, pushing it deep into her body. He could feel the ring tighten slightly as he became more aroused. It was a new sensation...not painful or uncomfortable...just...different.

"'Are you ready?"

"Oh, yeah," he replied.

She straddled his hips. One hand reached for him, stroked him for just a few minutes, feeling him harden and swell even more. Took him deep into her warm well.

Not what he was expecting. Usually she took the toy into her well, and he enjoyed her tight little ass. He watched her reach behind her, could feel it when she pushed the toy into her body. She held it with one hand, the other moving over her breasts, tugging at her hard nipples.

"That's it babe," he whispered, his blue eyes riveted to the sight of his beauties as they began to bounce slightly with her up and down movements. The visual and tactile stimulation created such deep need in him that he was already throbbing.

"Like it?" she asked breathlessly.

"I always like making love to you, Angel," he replied, his own breath coming harder and faster. Damn it! He wanted to play with those tantalizing breasts! Grab her hips and shove himself into her, pound into her until they were both screaming!

She almost giggled out loud at the flash of frustration that flickered over his face, filled his eyes for several long moments. His hands were clenched around the spindles of the headboard, a sure sign of his desire - his need - to touch her...hold her. She continued to ride him, gently at first, doing nothing more than holding her toy in place. Slowly, she sped up her movements, began to move the toy in and out of her ass, pushing it against him, or at least, that was her intention.

Holy shit! He could feel the toy moving against his length, the sensations nothing short of incredible. Everything she was doing, she was doing in order to please him. How damned lucky could he get?

Her fingers sought, found the switch for her vibrator. Gasped when the vibrations began to move up and down inside her. The hand she'd been moving over her breasts reached between them, found the switch for the ring.

"Sweet Jesus!" His back came up off the bed as vibrations began to echo against the base of his aching cock. She'd managed to turn the ring so that the vibrator was against him. It was almost more than he could stand...when she sped up her movements, using those muscles deep inside to hold him, massage him, he cried out again. "Oh, god!"

She felt him swell, concentrated on using her muscles to milk him. "Give it to me, Daniel," she whispered.

That was it...he couldn't take anymore. With a roar of sheer animal pleasure, he began to come, throbbing so hard and fast that he thought he was going to pass out. He didn't even notice when she turned the vibrators off, or hear her soft cry when she reached her own climax.

Moving slowly, she pulled away from him, gently removed the vibrator ring. He was still shaking when she slid off the bed and went to the bathroom. She dropped the toys into the sink, she'd clean them in a bit. She hurried back to the bedroom, and uncuffed his wrists, gently rubbed his arms and shoulders. Wasn't at all surprised when he grabbed her, and pulled her close. "So, did you like it?"

"It was...mind blowing," he replied.

"Good." She snuggled against his chest. "I wanted to make you feel as good as you made me feel last night."

He smiled, pressed a kiss against the side of her head, tightened his arms around her. Tit for tat. Kiss for kiss. Caress for caress. Lick for lick. She gave as good as she got. How damned lucky could he get?

It was nearly half an hour later before she forced herself away from the warmth and comfort of his chest. He'd fallen asleep almost as soon as she'd settled on top of him.

"Where are you going?" he mumbled sleepily.

"I need to clean the toys," she replied softly. "Go back to sleep."

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Cold."

She tucked the blankets around him.

"Doesn't help."

"I'll be right back."

"I'll be waiting."

She smiled, caressed his cheek. She blew out all of the candles. Ten minutes later she slid the drawer open, put the toys and the oil and the handcuffs back inside. He was snoring softly. Yep, she'd worn him out. Her body was cooler than his, and he reacted slightly when she cuddled close to his warmth. He rolled to his side, wrapped around her, pulled her tight against his chest. She sighed happily, closed her eyes, and joined him in sleep.

  A  A  A  A  A  A

The man settled into the seat of the plane. Opened the dossier. Well, well, well. How about that? The woman he was after was a member of SG-1. Colonel Simmons seemed very anxious to...talk...to her. He frowned as he read the reports. Was there a chance that this...gift...of hers could be a liability? Would she be able to 'sense' he was after her? There was a copy of a classified meeting transcript of the Oversight Committee...the frown turned to chuckles as he read. What he wouldn't give to have seen the faces of those politicians! No wonder The Hill had been buzzing just before news of Kinsey's death broke!

The NID had managed to capture and hold Major Carter and Dr. Jackson before. Although they'd been in Montana at the time. It wouldn't be easy to even approach this woman, not in Silver Springs. From the reports in his hand, she was never alone. He'd stop in Denver for the equipment he needed. A few tranquilizer darts would do the trick. Colonel Simmons had already given him the permission required for a private flight back to DC. When he had her in his custody, he could move her out of the area before they were even aware that she was gone.

A  A  A  A  A  A

He stared at the orb. Gave a feral smile. At last, all was going as he'd planned. "Report!"

For just a few seconds the Jaffa seemed dumbfounded. It truly was his god! He stood taller, at attention. "We approach your position, My Lord. What would you have us do?"

"You will send my flagship to my coordinates. It must remain cloaked at all times! The remainder of the fleet is to remain at the coordinates I am sending you now." His fingers moved over the device.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Contact me as soon as you are in orbit."

"Yes, My Lord."

Kinsey watched and listened. He didn't understand what the Master was saying. Something poked at him. Something...familiar...about the device. There was danger in what the Master was doing, he could feel it. He struggled to keep his face impassive. The haze that so often clouded his mind was gone...it had been days since Bailey had injected him. He hadn't received any special drinks, either. What was wrong? Why did he have such a feeling of dread?

A  A  A  A  A  A

He stared at the ceiling. The Board Meeting had been yesterday. No doubt his absence had been duly noted. And orders given. He had no choice. He'd given Simmons all the information he was going to give him. That man was too similar to the bastard he was trying to escape from. There had to be someone he could talk to...someone who'd listen, who would understand the threat that was looming!

He heard the guards approaching. Closed his eyes. He didn't want them to know that he was awake. One way or another he was leaving this farmhouse. Either as a prisoner of the Master once again, or as a free man. He feared the former, hoped for the latter. Understood that the NID would be after him as well if he just...disappeared. Let them look. He'd had years to learn, years to plan. He'd never go back to Rio De Janeiro. Never. Because if he did, he was a dead man.

The guards had moved on. Tucking both hands behind his head, he continued to study the shadows on the ceiling, cast by the security lights that kept the outside of the house illuminated. At some point he'd come under suspicion. It had been months since he'd been included in any of the Master's...Mr. Gold's!...private planning sessions. He was invited to all of the parties, of course. Participated because his body wouldn't allow him to not participate. His frown deepened. There were four other Board Members who seemed to be suddenly on the 'outside' as well. What sins had they committed? Were they just as weary, as sickened by their lives as he was? Or was there something else going on? Was the Mas...damn it! Gold! Timothy Fucking Gold! What was that bastard up to? Was he planning on reducing the size of the Board?

He shook his head slightly. It didn't matter. Not now. Not for him. He was free of that sick son-of-a-bitch. And he had every intention of remaining that way.

A  A  A  A  A  A

She stared at the letter. How many times had she read it now? Ten? Maybe fifteen. This was what she wanted. Exactly what she wanted. According to the job description, it was the perfect job. Good pay. Great benefits. Exotic location. It had been exciting to think that she might get the job. She'd taken great delight in telling everyone she knew that she was moving to South America. But now that it was finalized, it seemed so...final.

It was late. She should have been in bed hours ago. She sighed. Poured herself another drink. It didn't matter, she didn't have anywhere to go. Holidays. Bah humbug! Who needed them? She leaned back into the chair. It had been different when she was a little girl...

Shopping for Thanksgiving dinner had always been a thrill, taking the bus to the market; going to the butcher shop for the turkey her mother ordered at least a month in advance. New York City had always been exciting. Her mother loved it there. So did Daddy. And then...the fights had started. The yelling and screaming. Her brother, who had been two years older than she, had always protected her. She'd run crying into his bedroom when the voices began to get louder, and he'd let her crawl into bed with him, and comfort her by telling her stories about fairy princesses and beautiful ponies and lions who could talk. God, she missed Michael.

She'd been in high school before she'd discovered the awful truth about what had happened. The reason her mother had been forced to move them across the country. Living with Grandma and Gramps hadn't been so bad. Oh, her mother was miserable, she wanted to go back to the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple. Living on a farm outside of Wenatchee, Washington wasn't her idea of a good time. But her children were fed and clothed and warm. And taken care of, when she was too drunk to do it herself.

Arrested for soliciting a prostitute. That's what had happened to her father. And not just any prostitute. Oh, no. Minors. Little girls. Her mother had questioned her for hours, days, demanding to know if her Daddy had 'touched her there'...had he hurt her...had he treated his eight year old daughter the way he had that fourteen year old girl? She shuddered. According to the police report, before the paperwork was fully processed, his attorney had shown up. Her mother insisted that they didn't have an attorney, couldn't have afforded one. Her father had simply vanished.

Over the years money would mysteriously appear in Gramps' bank account. Michael had beaten the odds and had made it into the University of Washington, on a grant that gave him a full ride. Gramps always suspected that it was the work of the children's father, only two other scholarships had come through for him. Michael had been riding high, going to college, plans to attend medical school...Then the stupid fool...Damn him!

Her eyes filled with tears. Why had he been driving that night? It had been raining, and cold, and in those conditions black ice was always a danger; and then the stupid jerk had been drinking...He'd died at the scene. Damn him! He'd left her with grandparents who were struggling to get by, an alcoholic for a mother...

Western Washington University. She'd wanted to go to the UW. But after Michael's death, her grandparents wanted her to go to a 'smaller' school. Her grades hadn't been good enough to get into the prestigious university anyway.

She finished off her drink. Poured another. Seeing Casey Webster...no...what had she said his name was? Doctor...Doctor Daniel Jackson. Casey Jackson. She'd certainly landed on her feet, hadn't she? Mark had been crazy about her. Willing to wait to take the blonde to bed. Idiot. Probably why he was so willing to take what she offered him. At first, he wanted her just as a 'fuck buddy'. That's what he'd called it. When either of them had an itch that needed to be scratched, well, they'd just call up, get together, do the deed, then go back to their lives...which for him had meant drooling over Casey Webster...waiting for her to decide to grow up and become a woman. But she'd wanted...needed more. She'd wanted him to look at her the way he always looked at the slender blonde.

What a pain-in-the-ass she'd been! Always so damned slender! Pretty...sweet...that soft voice that seemed to enamor any man who spoke to her. She was a hard worker, though. Had to give her that. No free ride for Ms. Casey Webster. No, she was putting herself through college. She'd heard whispers about the woman who'd brought the pretty blonde to Western. Adoptive mother. Real piece of work, the rumors went. Called Casey a slut and a whore and everything else in the book. Had the guys panting over her immediately. Didn't take them long to start calling her the Ice Princess. She wasn't intentionally cold, or stand-offish. Just shy and quiet, and damned determined to hang onto her cherry as long as possible, keeping every potential suitor at arms length. Even Mark.

So with determination, she'd set out to seduce him, to make him love her, not the blonde. Made certain that they'd be caught in bed by the blonde herself. And then she'd held onto him, clinging to him all through college. It had been easier when Casey had quit just before their junior year. But she'd known that he was fucking slender blondes. She knew that he'd even tried to find Casey a time or two. Every time he got drunk he'd moan and cry about how she'd fucked up his life...had cost him the only woman he would ever love. Lousy bastard!

If she hadn't decided to surprise him, with plans to take him to lunch, she could have continued to deceive herself. Tell herself that everything was perfect and that he loved her and that her life in the suburbs was just what she wanted. She'd walked into his office, found his secretary, his skinny blonde secretary, lying naked on his desk, her knees by her ears, his pants around his ankles, fucking her for all he was worth. No way to pretend she hadn't seen it. To pretend that he loved her. Because he'd never loved her.

The bourbon burned as it hit her empty stomach. Holidays sucked. Gramps and Grandma were gone. Grandma had gone first...stroke. Gramps hadn't lasted a year after losing her. She had no clue where her mother and her new husband were. Somewhere in Arizona, last she'd heard. She'd seen them briefly at the funeral. At the time, she'd been going through her divorce, hadn't even had the energy to grieve for Gramps, let alone the energy for, or interest in, her absentee mother. Goddamn Mark Whiting!

The letter fluttered to the floor. There'd been damned little information about Pyxis Enterprises. She couldn't help but think that there was something...odd...about the business. Probably into money laundering and murder and drug production...she snorted. What the hell difference did it make?

She staggered to her feet. She was going to Rio De Janeiro. It couldn't be any worse than Wenatchee, Washington. Or Silver Springs, Colorado. With a sigh of surrender, she fell face first onto the bed. With luck, she'd sleep all the way through fucking Thanksgiving!

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