River of Gold | Stargate SG-1/Doctor Who
Fandom: Stargate SG-1/Doctor Who
Characters: Baal (Stargate SG-1), River Song (Doctor Who)
Rating: PG-13
Written for: dailyfics
Prompt: 03 - Past
Word Count: 528
Summary:
River flicks through her diary. Time travel can be tricky business and she needs to know she has the date right. As she synchronises her past with the present, a CB radio crackles behind her, voices fading in and out of the static. It’s enough that she can follow what’s going on at Cheyenne Mountain. Shouting makes her pause and sigh.
Putting her diary away, she checks her reflection and then silences the radio. Shifting through space is easier than time, though the acceleration of the spaceship takes her by surprise.
Also surprised are the soldiers aboard - they respond swiftly and bring their weapons to bear on her. She ignores the threat and looks directly at the man beyond the circle.
“I warned you, Sweetie.”
“Stand down,” he snaps to his men. The weapons go up. He shakes his head. “I hardly think you’re in a position to stop me, Ms Song.”
“Oooh, you found out my name.” She claps her hands together and flutters her eyelashes. Her sarcasm isn’t lost on him.
“It wasn’t exactly difficult, seeing as you’re wanted on almost as many planets as I am.” He walks forward and gives her a slight bow. “I am Baal, of the Goa’uld.”
“I know.”
“Did you also know that you’re too late? I have what I wanted. Now I will stop the Ori. You can assist or... not. Please consider your options carefully.”
River purses her lips. Aside from shooting him, which she’s loath to do unless it’s completely necessary, there’s nothing in her usual repertoire that would be effective on him. His physiology makes her hallucinogenic lipstick redundant, which is a pity.
“I don’t suppose I can persuade you that this isn’t the best path to take?” she asks.
“I’m afraid not.”
He does seem somewhat regretful, as if he’d prefer not to disappoint her, though still too stubborn to back down. She considers what she knows of the future. This point is not fixed and the time line wavers. She can see the galaxy overrun by a species as warped as the Daleks, can see the same species defeated, can see the galaxy burn in an endless war.
She snaps to the present with a shudder. Her eyes shift to Baal’s face. He won’t change his mind - she sees that as well - but maybe he can be nudged in a better direction. It wasn’t her future, but that isn’t fixed either.
“If I choose to assist, will you listen to me?”
Baal’s gaze drops, settles on the small blue book wedged in her belt. Then he smiles slowly. “Perhaps. It depends on what you say.”
River rolls her eyes. “Spoilers, Sweetie.”
“An advantage, Ms Song.”
“River.”
“I know.”
She glances at his soldiers, who are watching the exchange with considerable interest. She blows them a kiss, then looks around. “Love the colour scheme,” she says. “Matches my hair.”
Wandering over to the seat - the throne - she drops down. The soldiers shift and mutter, but Baal just appears amused. “So it does. Gold suits you.”
“Oh, you have no idea, Sweetie.”
And she laughs, because he doesn’t. But he will. She can see that now.
Characters: Baal (Stargate SG-1), River Song (Doctor Who)
Rating: PG-13
Written for: dailyfics
Prompt: 03 - Past
Word Count: 528
Summary:
River flicks through her diary. Time travel can be tricky business and she needs to know she has the date right. As she synchronises her past with the present, a CB radio crackles behind her, voices fading in and out of the static. It’s enough that she can follow what’s going on at Cheyenne Mountain. Shouting makes her pause and sigh.
Putting her diary away, she checks her reflection and then silences the radio. Shifting through space is easier than time, though the acceleration of the spaceship takes her by surprise.
Also surprised are the soldiers aboard - they respond swiftly and bring their weapons to bear on her. She ignores the threat and looks directly at the man beyond the circle.
“I warned you, Sweetie.”
“Stand down,” he snaps to his men. The weapons go up. He shakes his head. “I hardly think you’re in a position to stop me, Ms Song.”
“Oooh, you found out my name.” She claps her hands together and flutters her eyelashes. Her sarcasm isn’t lost on him.
“It wasn’t exactly difficult, seeing as you’re wanted on almost as many planets as I am.” He walks forward and gives her a slight bow. “I am Baal, of the Goa’uld.”
“I know.”
“Did you also know that you’re too late? I have what I wanted. Now I will stop the Ori. You can assist or... not. Please consider your options carefully.”
River purses her lips. Aside from shooting him, which she’s loath to do unless it’s completely necessary, there’s nothing in her usual repertoire that would be effective on him. His physiology makes her hallucinogenic lipstick redundant, which is a pity.
“I don’t suppose I can persuade you that this isn’t the best path to take?” she asks.
“I’m afraid not.”
He does seem somewhat regretful, as if he’d prefer not to disappoint her, though still too stubborn to back down. She considers what she knows of the future. This point is not fixed and the time line wavers. She can see the galaxy overrun by a species as warped as the Daleks, can see the same species defeated, can see the galaxy burn in an endless war.
She snaps to the present with a shudder. Her eyes shift to Baal’s face. He won’t change his mind - she sees that as well - but maybe he can be nudged in a better direction. It wasn’t her future, but that isn’t fixed either.
“If I choose to assist, will you listen to me?”
Baal’s gaze drops, settles on the small blue book wedged in her belt. Then he smiles slowly. “Perhaps. It depends on what you say.”
River rolls her eyes. “Spoilers, Sweetie.”
“An advantage, Ms Song.”
“River.”
“I know.”
She glances at his soldiers, who are watching the exchange with considerable interest. She blows them a kiss, then looks around. “Love the colour scheme,” she says. “Matches my hair.”
Wandering over to the seat - the throne - she drops down. The soldiers shift and mutter, but Baal just appears amused. “So it does. Gold suits you.”
“Oh, you have no idea, Sweetie.”
And she laughs, because he doesn’t. But he will. She can see that now.