Round 1 // Challenge 11 - Entries
Shows: Stargate SG:1
Story Title: We Are Fa-Mi-Ly
Character/Relationships: Sam Carter, Cassandra Fraiser (Het)
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Sam tossed her blue, leather jacket on top of the box of photos in the back seat of her car and closed the door. Slipping into the driver’s seat, she spared a glance at Cassie in the passenger seat before turning the key in the ignition. The teen stared at Sam’s empty house, her legal residence since Janet’s passing, though she had lived at the dorm this school year.
“Ready?” Sam asked, pausing before putting the vehicle in gear. When Cassie only nodded, Sam sighed, a little louder than planned.
“I’m sorry,” Cassie mumbled.
“For what?” Sam buckled her seatbelt and pulled from the curve with a quick glance over her shoulder.
“For being such a basket case you have to leave a job you love to babysit me.”
They had progressed less than a block, and with several hours’ drive to go to reach Nevada, pulling into the park’s parking lot would put them even further behind schedule than the delay of the moving van this morning. Yet Sam did it. When she had set the brake, Sam turned to her adopted niece cum daughter and waited until Cassie returned her gaze.
“First of all, you are not a basket case. Trust me, I’ve seen plenty of them - even been one on occasion - and you are not it. You’ve hit a rough patch in life; it happens. Nobody expects you to be strong 100% of the time, and after everything you’ve been through - losing Janet, breaking up with Dominic after three years…”
“And nearly losing you - twice,” Cassie interrupted. She bit her lip and blinked back tears.
“And that,” Sam admitted. She moved her hand from the e-brake to Cassie’s leg in response. “Plus starting college. Well, that’s a lot for anybody. We’ll get settled in Nevada. You’ll start fresh in a new school. You’ll have a new perspective.”
“But you *are* giving up a job you love.” With just her eyes and expression, Cassie dared Sam to deny it.
“I have loved working at the SGC, yes. But I will love Nellis. Head of research? C’mon…geeking out every day over alien doohickeys?” Sam’s reference to General O’Neill’s assessment of Sam’s new gig forced the corners of Cassie’s mouth to turn up if only slightly.
“You really don’t mind giving up command of a front-line field team, ‘gating and exploring?”
“No more sleeping on the ground in a tent with Daniel who snores like a freight train? No more slogging ten clicks through alien swamps or baking under the heat of two suns in full tactical gear? No more…”
“You loved every minute of it.”
“Can’t deny that, Cass, well, except maybe for the torture, imprisonment, DNA scrambling, concussed and hallucinating while stranded on a disabled vessel in space and being chased by Kull warriors parts.” They both chuckled, but Sam turned serious again. “We were a team. No one could know what we meant to each other, what we went through together. But Daniel plans to leave for Atlantis in a few months, T spends more time with the Free Jaffa all the time, and General O’Neill moves to Washington as soon as General Landry arrives to take over… It’s a fresh start for me, too. Besides, with military life, you get used to moving every few years. We’ve actually been a little spoiled to have such a lengthy assignment.”
“Yeah, spoiled, that’s the word I’d use for our lives.” Cassie did the teen eye roll with such expertise.
“You want spoiled? What say we scope things out on the way into town and look for someplace we can take a spa day - mani-pedi, facial, massage…the works - as soon as we get unpacked?” When that seemed to perk the girl up, Sam put her hand on the gear and asked, “Ready then?”
“Ready.” That Cassie answered aloud, much less in an assured tone, boosted Sam’s morale, too.
Sam backed out of the parking stall and pulled to the driveway. She felt Cassie’s hand on hers and looked from that to Cassie’s face.
“Thanks. Really. Just…thanks..”
“Cass, this is what family does.” Sam pulled out onto the road singing the Sister Sledge song, “We are fa-mi-ly. I’ve got all my…” She bobbed her head in time but stopped mid-lyric when she saw Cassie had inserted her ear buds and turned the volume on her iPod up so loud, Sam could hear the music clearly.. “Hey!” Sam complained, slapping Cassie’s arm.
“What?” Cassie asked, pulling one bud out. “This is what family does when family sings really old songs really badly.” Cassandra reinserted her ear bud and began to sing along with her music. Sam smiled and shook her head, remembering the long drive to one of her Dad’s reassignments with her and Mark each listening to their individual Walkman cassette players on full volume to avoid Dad’s musical choice - or his singing. Yes, that’s what family does.
Shows: Stargate SG-1
Story Title: Mending Fences
Character/Relationships: Jacob, Sam
Rating: G
Warnings: None
He would do almost anything for her. He'd move heaven and earth if that would make her happy. Not to mention defying the Tok'ra by running to help when SG-1 needed him. But this, Jacob shook his head, this was asking way too much.
"Come on Dad. Please?"
"Sammie..."
"It's just a visit. A couple days tops. It would mean the world to Mark."
Jacob couldn't help it. The sarcastic snort along with the skeptical look he gave his daughter was an involuntary reaction, although now that he thought about it, he really didn't believe her words - even though he wanted to with all his heart.
"I have a lot of things on my plate, Sam," he said. "Seth is no longer in the picture, but we have a lead on another Goa'uld that we need to follow up on." He tried to ignore the rueful expression on Sam's face, then told her with a sigh, "Despite what I said earlier, I just don't think I'm ready for this."
Sam nodded, her expression now understanding. "I called Mark and told him we were thinking about coming to see him."
Jacob shook his head, wondering why he didn't just walk away. Mark had made it clear how he felt about him, no need to go and hear it again.
But Sam was insistent. "He seemed happy to hear it. He said he's looking forward to the visit."
"Yeah, right," Jacob said. "Every time I ever tried to talk to him before, I was treated like a mangy dog." The memory of his last unpleasant phone call raced through his mind. For the life of him, he couldn't even begin to understand what could have changed between then and now.
"Dad," Sam said, as she reached over the table to grab his hand. "I know that things were rough for us in the past, but you have to give Mark another chance." She smiled at him, then said, "You were all gung-ho about going to see him just the other day. What happened?"
"I don't know," Jacob replied honestly. "I guess I just remember the last time… He was so angry at me about some stupid thing." He looked up at his daughter and remembered that it wasn't so long ago when she hated him. If she could forgive him, maybe Mark could too. "It's just that I'm not so sure I can handle the rejection again."
There it was. His soul bared wide open. He was almost afraid to look her in the eye again. But he did, and was surprised to see amusement, almost as if she had a secret. "What?" he asked indignantly. "You laughing at me?"
"No, Dad," she said with a squeeze of her hand. "I was just remembering that Mark said almost the same thing when I talked to him the other day." She shook her head with exaggerated annoyance. "You two are so much alike."
"No we're not," he insisted, although he really did know better.
'We could spare a few days,' a deep resonating voice echoed in his head. Selmak decided to interfere once again. 'Go to your son. It is what you really want.'
Jacob knew then that he would go. He just had to conquer this fear and face it down. He nodded his head at Sam, who took it as a sign of giving in.
"Yes," she said with gusto and a happy smile. "It's about time you two let bygones be bygones."
"I guess," he told her, wishing he hadn't given in so easily. She always could twist him around her little finger. "The things we do for family."
"It's the right thing to do, Dad," she rushed to tell him. "And you know it!"
"Yeah, I guess you're right." She nodded, but Jacob was still worrying. Until he heard it straight from Mark that all was forgiven, the niggling feeling of dread lingered on. Still, it was time to put an end to this, and if what Sam told him is true, the time is now.
"So," he said with a renewed hope springing up in his heart. "When do we leave?"
Shows: SG-1
Story Title: You Always Hurt the Ones You Love
Character/Relationships: Teal'c
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Teal'c watched the children of Earth with great interest. Sometimes, they seemed so unlike the children of Chulak -- blessed without the burden of service to the goa'uld, they lived a life freer than they could possibly imagine. But other times, the similarities were striking.
O'Neill had been refueling his vehicle one day when Teal'c saw a small boy running around the small convenience store, ducking behind ice machines and garbage barrels while shooting imaginary enemies with his finger. He did so with the wild and reckless abandon of both human and Jaffa youth -- laughing in the face of danger.
Then he tripped, scraping his knee against the rough concrete. He sat in silence for a moment, stunned that the ground beneath him would dare attack his army of one, spill his blood and end his reign as Master and Commander of all the 7-Eleven. As pain and realization set it, the boy began to cry.
It wasn't long before the boy's father picked him up, tended to his wounded knee and kissed the child's head. Teal'c looked away then.
The boy reminded him so much of Ry'ac. He often tried not to think about his family or their fate. Toppling a god -- even a false one -- took greater effort than anything he had ever attempted and Teal'c could not afford the luxury of worrying over the ones he loved. He couldn't afford to wonder how being the blood of a shol'va affected their lives. But some days -- like now -- he couldn't help himself.
Who was there to pick up his own son when he fell? Did his mother have the time, or were her days so filled with survival that caring for minor injuries fell by the wayside? Perhaps Master Bra'tac or another Jaffa had taken the boy in, unfazed by the reputation Teal'c had created for them. Or perhaps his greatest fear would be realized, and the hand leading his son through life would be that of Apophis himself. The possibility was not a slim one. The goa'uld could do it in a heartbeat and WOULD do it for no other reason than to spite the one who had betrayed him.
Teal'c quickly pushed the thought aside, choosing instead to focus on a third option. Perhaps the situation would force Ry'ac to pick himself up and guide his own life. Perhaps the self-reliance would make him a far more capable and greater man than Teal'c would ever know.
That thought made Teal'c smile. For all the hurt his actions may bring down on his wife and son, the possibility that *something* good could come of it -- even if he was unsuccessful in defeating Apophis and freeing his family and his people -- was enough to keep him moving forward.
It was enough to make the pain he caused them worth it.
Show: Stargate Atlantis
Story Title: tearing away my patience and my wit
Character/Relationships: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, OFC, Teyla Emmagen, Ronon Dex
Rating: R for adult concepts
Warnings:Mention of attempted rape, threats of violence
"Hurry up, John, the previews are on!"
John sighed and closed his laptop. Email would have to wait; they never got a chance to watch movies alone together any more. As he passed the bedroom on his way down, he heard Rodney's phone ring - the song Chelsea made him pick out as her ringtone, something by Lady Gaga. He ran in and picked it up. "Chelsea?"
"Daddy?" Chelsea asked, her voice nearly a whisper. He could tell something was wrong; his stomach plummeted to the floor.
"No, sweetheart, it's Poppa, what's wrong?"
"I'm scared," she whispered, and John bolted straight down the steps, waving at Rodney to get his attention.
"Where are you?"
Rodney sprang up from the couch and paced in front of John. They'd let her take John's car for her first date with Billy Andersen, and John knew he should never have let her go alone. "She's seventeen," Rodney'd said, and between Rodney's unbearable calm about their daughter's teenagerhood and Chelsea's pleading face, he'd handed over the keys.
"Lookout Point," she said softly. "I'm so scared, Poppa.
"Shhh, it's okay, we're coming to get you." John said, thinking. He waved at the netbook sitting on the coffee table and mouthed 'GPS' at Rodney. "Are you in the car?"
"No, I ran away, down the hill. I don't know how far."
The fact that she was still whispering was enough to tell him the rest of the story. "We're on our way. Don't talk, but stay on the phone, okay?"
"Okay, Poppa," she answered. He could hear her hitching breaths, but she wasn't crying out loud yet. She was smart, strong. They'd get to her. John passed the phone to Rodney and grabbed the keys, running for Rodney's monstrous SUV. Rodney kept up his usual patter of conversation, the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, tapping away on the netbook to get her location as John drove like a bat out of hell.
When they pulled into the parking lot, it was completely empty - not a car in sight. One look at Rodney told him Chelsea was still on the phone, so he finally let out the breath he was holding.
"Chelsea?" he called into the forest, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Can you hear me?"
"Poppa!"
The sound echoed in the still night air. She was a ways off, and Rodney had to guide them through the forest toward her phone signal until they could hear her for themselves. When they found her, she was barefoot and there were small cuts on her hands and forearms. Her shirt was torn in a couple of places, and she was leaning on a tree pretty heavily. John could feel the rage build, white hot and right behind his eyes, but he held it in check, picking up his little girl and carrying her back to Rodney's car.
John drove, thankful for the steering wheel to wrap his hands around until his knuckles turned white. Rodney talked non-stop at Chelsea, cleaning her up with wet naps and clucking at her soothingly. He always was the better parent at comforting.
Rodney was the one who'd had to calm her down when she got her first period (John was the one who went in to school screaming mad that it hadn't been covered in health class); Rodney was the one who cleaned out the scratches from the feral cat she'd found (John was the one who put the cat down); Rodney was the one whose shoulder she cried on when she hadn't gotten the lead in the school play - and Rodney was the one who'd had to talk John down from threatening the drama coach to give her a better part.
Rodney had his arm around her as he led her into the house; Rodney washed her face and brushed her hair; Rodney tucked her into bed and sang her favorite lullaby.
John went to the safe in the bedroom and got his gun; went to the safe in the office and got the bullets; grabbed the netbook with the GPS tracking program and set it for his car.
"Don't, John," Rodney said from the top of the stairs. "Please."
"He touched our little girl, Rodney."
Rodney didn't answer. John didn't wait.
He heard the sirens two blocks before he saw his car. He threw the SUV into park and jumped out, leaving the door standing wide open. There were four or five uniformed cops and Billy Andersen was face down in the mud, hands cuffed behind him. Ronon stood over him, one large boot on his back. John's hand tightened around his gun, but before he could raise it, Teyla was stalking toward him.
"John," she said smoothly, even though he could see the hard glint in her eyes. "Get back in your car and go home."
"No."
"John," Teyla said again, her voice maddeningly placid, and her hand over his on his gun. "Rodney and Chelsea need you at home."
"My little girl," he said, and then turned to the kid with his face in the mud. "You touched my little girl."
He tried to raise his gun again, but Teyla was too fast. She'd disarmed him before he could blink and had his gun in her hand. "On second thought, I don't think you're in any shape to drive," she said, putting the safety on and waving Ronon over. He talked to a couple of uniforms before heading their way. "Ronon can take you home, and you can pick your gun up later. Next week, maybe."
"C'mon, Sheppard," Ronon said, turning John around and bossing him into the passenger seat. "Let's get you home. McKay is probably pacing a hole in your dining room floor."
"He called you."
"Just protecting his family, the way he knows how," Ronon said, slamming the door shut and climbing into the driver's seat. "Now let's get you home so you can say thank you."
Shows: Stargate SG-1
Story Title: Consequences
Character/Relationships: Janet Fraiser, George Hammond
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Janet braced herself for the worst during the elevator ride, so she knocked without hesitation when she arrived at his office. There was a terse "come in" from inside, and Janet opened the door and stepped inside to accept her punishment. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
Hammond finished what he was writing before he looked up at her. He folded his hands on the desk in front of himself. "I assume you know what this is about."
"I do, sir." This was like being called to the principal's office, if the principal was also your grandfather. It wasn't the punishment Janet was worried about. Not really. The main fear was having this man be disappointed in her. "I want you to know that I am sincerely sorry for ignoring your authority in the matter and taking action on my own. But I won't apologize for what I did."
Hammond seemed surprised by that. "You won't?"
"No, sir. I will apologize to you for going over your head and acting unilaterally. But as for my actions... no. I will not apologize. I would do it again given the chance." She smiled ruefully. "And given where we work, I might have the chance."
Hammond leaned back in his seat. "Dr. Fraiser, you are primarily a physician. But you also hold the rank of major, and are therefore beholden to the rules and regulations of the military leadership of this base. You assaulted an airman and took his weapon, using it to hold a prisoner of this base at gunpoint. Do you realize the consequences of what you did?"
"I do, sir. The consequences were that Cassandra might not get better. Because of what I did... she will." She raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Those were the only consequences I thought of. Cassandra is better because of what I did. I won't apologize for it."
Hammond held her gaze for a long moment and then, after an interminable silence, nodded once. His posture relaxed and he folded his hands in front of him again. "I kept imagining Tessa or Kayla in Cassie's situation and, for the life of me I cannot understand what kept you from pulling that trigger. If some Goa'uld had messed with those girls, there wouldn't have been a power on this Earth that would stop me."
"Thank you, sir. I'm glad you understand, sir."
"I do. And that is why, as far as anyone outside of this base is concerned, Nirrti accepted the terms of our deal willingly. She decided to heal Cassandra in exchange for her freedom. Adding anything more would just muddy the waters."
Janet couldn't help a smile as relief washed over her. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
"You're dismissed, Doctor." Janet turned and reached for the doorknob. "Oh, and Doctor. The airman you knocked out--"
Janet chuckled and nodded. "Him, I will give an apology."
Hammond smiled and went back to the work she had interrupted. Janet stepped out of the office and leaned against the wall as she let the relief wash over her. There were so many ways that could have gone, so many punishments he could have doled out. The IOA, given this scenario, might have declared her an unfit guardian for Cassie - "prone to fits of violence, unstable behavior" - and taken the girl away from her.
She was grateful her fate was in the hands of General George Hammond. He was a military man first and foremost, but family was of the utmost importance to him. And he understood the things you had to do for your family.
Story Title: We Are Fa-Mi-Ly
Character/Relationships: Sam Carter, Cassandra Fraiser (Het)
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Sam tossed her blue, leather jacket on top of the box of photos in the back seat of her car and closed the door. Slipping into the driver’s seat, she spared a glance at Cassie in the passenger seat before turning the key in the ignition. The teen stared at Sam’s empty house, her legal residence since Janet’s passing, though she had lived at the dorm this school year.
“Ready?” Sam asked, pausing before putting the vehicle in gear. When Cassie only nodded, Sam sighed, a little louder than planned.
“I’m sorry,” Cassie mumbled.
“For what?” Sam buckled her seatbelt and pulled from the curve with a quick glance over her shoulder.
“For being such a basket case you have to leave a job you love to babysit me.”
They had progressed less than a block, and with several hours’ drive to go to reach Nevada, pulling into the park’s parking lot would put them even further behind schedule than the delay of the moving van this morning. Yet Sam did it. When she had set the brake, Sam turned to her adopted niece cum daughter and waited until Cassie returned her gaze.
“First of all, you are not a basket case. Trust me, I’ve seen plenty of them - even been one on occasion - and you are not it. You’ve hit a rough patch in life; it happens. Nobody expects you to be strong 100% of the time, and after everything you’ve been through - losing Janet, breaking up with Dominic after three years…”
“And nearly losing you - twice,” Cassie interrupted. She bit her lip and blinked back tears.
“And that,” Sam admitted. She moved her hand from the e-brake to Cassie’s leg in response. “Plus starting college. Well, that’s a lot for anybody. We’ll get settled in Nevada. You’ll start fresh in a new school. You’ll have a new perspective.”
“But you *are* giving up a job you love.” With just her eyes and expression, Cassie dared Sam to deny it.
“I have loved working at the SGC, yes. But I will love Nellis. Head of research? C’mon…geeking out every day over alien doohickeys?” Sam’s reference to General O’Neill’s assessment of Sam’s new gig forced the corners of Cassie’s mouth to turn up if only slightly.
“You really don’t mind giving up command of a front-line field team, ‘gating and exploring?”
“No more sleeping on the ground in a tent with Daniel who snores like a freight train? No more slogging ten clicks through alien swamps or baking under the heat of two suns in full tactical gear? No more…”
“You loved every minute of it.”
“Can’t deny that, Cass, well, except maybe for the torture, imprisonment, DNA scrambling, concussed and hallucinating while stranded on a disabled vessel in space and being chased by Kull warriors parts.” They both chuckled, but Sam turned serious again. “We were a team. No one could know what we meant to each other, what we went through together. But Daniel plans to leave for Atlantis in a few months, T spends more time with the Free Jaffa all the time, and General O’Neill moves to Washington as soon as General Landry arrives to take over… It’s a fresh start for me, too. Besides, with military life, you get used to moving every few years. We’ve actually been a little spoiled to have such a lengthy assignment.”
“Yeah, spoiled, that’s the word I’d use for our lives.” Cassie did the teen eye roll with such expertise.
“You want spoiled? What say we scope things out on the way into town and look for someplace we can take a spa day - mani-pedi, facial, massage…the works - as soon as we get unpacked?” When that seemed to perk the girl up, Sam put her hand on the gear and asked, “Ready then?”
“Ready.” That Cassie answered aloud, much less in an assured tone, boosted Sam’s morale, too.
Sam backed out of the parking stall and pulled to the driveway. She felt Cassie’s hand on hers and looked from that to Cassie’s face.
“Thanks. Really. Just…thanks..”
“Cass, this is what family does.” Sam pulled out onto the road singing the Sister Sledge song, “We are fa-mi-ly. I’ve got all my…” She bobbed her head in time but stopped mid-lyric when she saw Cassie had inserted her ear buds and turned the volume on her iPod up so loud, Sam could hear the music clearly.. “Hey!” Sam complained, slapping Cassie’s arm.
“What?” Cassie asked, pulling one bud out. “This is what family does when family sings really old songs really badly.” Cassandra reinserted her ear bud and began to sing along with her music. Sam smiled and shook her head, remembering the long drive to one of her Dad’s reassignments with her and Mark each listening to their individual Walkman cassette players on full volume to avoid Dad’s musical choice - or his singing. Yes, that’s what family does.
Shows: Stargate SG-1
Story Title: Mending Fences
Character/Relationships: Jacob, Sam
Rating: G
Warnings: None
He would do almost anything for her. He'd move heaven and earth if that would make her happy. Not to mention defying the Tok'ra by running to help when SG-1 needed him. But this, Jacob shook his head, this was asking way too much.
"Come on Dad. Please?"
"Sammie..."
"It's just a visit. A couple days tops. It would mean the world to Mark."
Jacob couldn't help it. The sarcastic snort along with the skeptical look he gave his daughter was an involuntary reaction, although now that he thought about it, he really didn't believe her words - even though he wanted to with all his heart.
"I have a lot of things on my plate, Sam," he said. "Seth is no longer in the picture, but we have a lead on another Goa'uld that we need to follow up on." He tried to ignore the rueful expression on Sam's face, then told her with a sigh, "Despite what I said earlier, I just don't think I'm ready for this."
Sam nodded, her expression now understanding. "I called Mark and told him we were thinking about coming to see him."
Jacob shook his head, wondering why he didn't just walk away. Mark had made it clear how he felt about him, no need to go and hear it again.
But Sam was insistent. "He seemed happy to hear it. He said he's looking forward to the visit."
"Yeah, right," Jacob said. "Every time I ever tried to talk to him before, I was treated like a mangy dog." The memory of his last unpleasant phone call raced through his mind. For the life of him, he couldn't even begin to understand what could have changed between then and now.
"Dad," Sam said, as she reached over the table to grab his hand. "I know that things were rough for us in the past, but you have to give Mark another chance." She smiled at him, then said, "You were all gung-ho about going to see him just the other day. What happened?"
"I don't know," Jacob replied honestly. "I guess I just remember the last time… He was so angry at me about some stupid thing." He looked up at his daughter and remembered that it wasn't so long ago when she hated him. If she could forgive him, maybe Mark could too. "It's just that I'm not so sure I can handle the rejection again."
There it was. His soul bared wide open. He was almost afraid to look her in the eye again. But he did, and was surprised to see amusement, almost as if she had a secret. "What?" he asked indignantly. "You laughing at me?"
"No, Dad," she said with a squeeze of her hand. "I was just remembering that Mark said almost the same thing when I talked to him the other day." She shook her head with exaggerated annoyance. "You two are so much alike."
"No we're not," he insisted, although he really did know better.
'We could spare a few days,' a deep resonating voice echoed in his head. Selmak decided to interfere once again. 'Go to your son. It is what you really want.'
Jacob knew then that he would go. He just had to conquer this fear and face it down. He nodded his head at Sam, who took it as a sign of giving in.
"Yes," she said with gusto and a happy smile. "It's about time you two let bygones be bygones."
"I guess," he told her, wishing he hadn't given in so easily. She always could twist him around her little finger. "The things we do for family."
"It's the right thing to do, Dad," she rushed to tell him. "And you know it!"
"Yeah, I guess you're right." She nodded, but Jacob was still worrying. Until he heard it straight from Mark that all was forgiven, the niggling feeling of dread lingered on. Still, it was time to put an end to this, and if what Sam told him is true, the time is now.
"So," he said with a renewed hope springing up in his heart. "When do we leave?"
Shows: SG-1
Story Title: You Always Hurt the Ones You Love
Character/Relationships: Teal'c
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Teal'c watched the children of Earth with great interest. Sometimes, they seemed so unlike the children of Chulak -- blessed without the burden of service to the goa'uld, they lived a life freer than they could possibly imagine. But other times, the similarities were striking.
O'Neill had been refueling his vehicle one day when Teal'c saw a small boy running around the small convenience store, ducking behind ice machines and garbage barrels while shooting imaginary enemies with his finger. He did so with the wild and reckless abandon of both human and Jaffa youth -- laughing in the face of danger.
Then he tripped, scraping his knee against the rough concrete. He sat in silence for a moment, stunned that the ground beneath him would dare attack his army of one, spill his blood and end his reign as Master and Commander of all the 7-Eleven. As pain and realization set it, the boy began to cry.
It wasn't long before the boy's father picked him up, tended to his wounded knee and kissed the child's head. Teal'c looked away then.
The boy reminded him so much of Ry'ac. He often tried not to think about his family or their fate. Toppling a god -- even a false one -- took greater effort than anything he had ever attempted and Teal'c could not afford the luxury of worrying over the ones he loved. He couldn't afford to wonder how being the blood of a shol'va affected their lives. But some days -- like now -- he couldn't help himself.
Who was there to pick up his own son when he fell? Did his mother have the time, or were her days so filled with survival that caring for minor injuries fell by the wayside? Perhaps Master Bra'tac or another Jaffa had taken the boy in, unfazed by the reputation Teal'c had created for them. Or perhaps his greatest fear would be realized, and the hand leading his son through life would be that of Apophis himself. The possibility was not a slim one. The goa'uld could do it in a heartbeat and WOULD do it for no other reason than to spite the one who had betrayed him.
Teal'c quickly pushed the thought aside, choosing instead to focus on a third option. Perhaps the situation would force Ry'ac to pick himself up and guide his own life. Perhaps the self-reliance would make him a far more capable and greater man than Teal'c would ever know.
That thought made Teal'c smile. For all the hurt his actions may bring down on his wife and son, the possibility that *something* good could come of it -- even if he was unsuccessful in defeating Apophis and freeing his family and his people -- was enough to keep him moving forward.
It was enough to make the pain he caused them worth it.
Show: Stargate Atlantis
Story Title: tearing away my patience and my wit
Character/Relationships: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, OFC, Teyla Emmagen, Ronon Dex
Rating: R for adult concepts
Warnings:Mention of attempted rape, threats of violence
"Hurry up, John, the previews are on!"
John sighed and closed his laptop. Email would have to wait; they never got a chance to watch movies alone together any more. As he passed the bedroom on his way down, he heard Rodney's phone ring - the song Chelsea made him pick out as her ringtone, something by Lady Gaga. He ran in and picked it up. "Chelsea?"
"Daddy?" Chelsea asked, her voice nearly a whisper. He could tell something was wrong; his stomach plummeted to the floor.
"No, sweetheart, it's Poppa, what's wrong?"
"I'm scared," she whispered, and John bolted straight down the steps, waving at Rodney to get his attention.
"Where are you?"
Rodney sprang up from the couch and paced in front of John. They'd let her take John's car for her first date with Billy Andersen, and John knew he should never have let her go alone. "She's seventeen," Rodney'd said, and between Rodney's unbearable calm about their daughter's teenagerhood and Chelsea's pleading face, he'd handed over the keys.
"Lookout Point," she said softly. "I'm so scared, Poppa.
"Shhh, it's okay, we're coming to get you." John said, thinking. He waved at the netbook sitting on the coffee table and mouthed 'GPS' at Rodney. "Are you in the car?"
"No, I ran away, down the hill. I don't know how far."
The fact that she was still whispering was enough to tell him the rest of the story. "We're on our way. Don't talk, but stay on the phone, okay?"
"Okay, Poppa," she answered. He could hear her hitching breaths, but she wasn't crying out loud yet. She was smart, strong. They'd get to her. John passed the phone to Rodney and grabbed the keys, running for Rodney's monstrous SUV. Rodney kept up his usual patter of conversation, the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, tapping away on the netbook to get her location as John drove like a bat out of hell.
When they pulled into the parking lot, it was completely empty - not a car in sight. One look at Rodney told him Chelsea was still on the phone, so he finally let out the breath he was holding.
"Chelsea?" he called into the forest, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Can you hear me?"
"Poppa!"
The sound echoed in the still night air. She was a ways off, and Rodney had to guide them through the forest toward her phone signal until they could hear her for themselves. When they found her, she was barefoot and there were small cuts on her hands and forearms. Her shirt was torn in a couple of places, and she was leaning on a tree pretty heavily. John could feel the rage build, white hot and right behind his eyes, but he held it in check, picking up his little girl and carrying her back to Rodney's car.
John drove, thankful for the steering wheel to wrap his hands around until his knuckles turned white. Rodney talked non-stop at Chelsea, cleaning her up with wet naps and clucking at her soothingly. He always was the better parent at comforting.
Rodney was the one who'd had to calm her down when she got her first period (John was the one who went in to school screaming mad that it hadn't been covered in health class); Rodney was the one who cleaned out the scratches from the feral cat she'd found (John was the one who put the cat down); Rodney was the one whose shoulder she cried on when she hadn't gotten the lead in the school play - and Rodney was the one who'd had to talk John down from threatening the drama coach to give her a better part.
Rodney had his arm around her as he led her into the house; Rodney washed her face and brushed her hair; Rodney tucked her into bed and sang her favorite lullaby.
John went to the safe in the bedroom and got his gun; went to the safe in the office and got the bullets; grabbed the netbook with the GPS tracking program and set it for his car.
"Don't, John," Rodney said from the top of the stairs. "Please."
"He touched our little girl, Rodney."
Rodney didn't answer. John didn't wait.
He heard the sirens two blocks before he saw his car. He threw the SUV into park and jumped out, leaving the door standing wide open. There were four or five uniformed cops and Billy Andersen was face down in the mud, hands cuffed behind him. Ronon stood over him, one large boot on his back. John's hand tightened around his gun, but before he could raise it, Teyla was stalking toward him.
"John," she said smoothly, even though he could see the hard glint in her eyes. "Get back in your car and go home."
"No."
"John," Teyla said again, her voice maddeningly placid, and her hand over his on his gun. "Rodney and Chelsea need you at home."
"My little girl," he said, and then turned to the kid with his face in the mud. "You touched my little girl."
He tried to raise his gun again, but Teyla was too fast. She'd disarmed him before he could blink and had his gun in her hand. "On second thought, I don't think you're in any shape to drive," she said, putting the safety on and waving Ronon over. He talked to a couple of uniforms before heading their way. "Ronon can take you home, and you can pick your gun up later. Next week, maybe."
"C'mon, Sheppard," Ronon said, turning John around and bossing him into the passenger seat. "Let's get you home. McKay is probably pacing a hole in your dining room floor."
"He called you."
"Just protecting his family, the way he knows how," Ronon said, slamming the door shut and climbing into the driver's seat. "Now let's get you home so you can say thank you."
Shows: Stargate SG-1
Story Title: Consequences
Character/Relationships: Janet Fraiser, George Hammond
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Janet braced herself for the worst during the elevator ride, so she knocked without hesitation when she arrived at his office. There was a terse "come in" from inside, and Janet opened the door and stepped inside to accept her punishment. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
Hammond finished what he was writing before he looked up at her. He folded his hands on the desk in front of himself. "I assume you know what this is about."
"I do, sir." This was like being called to the principal's office, if the principal was also your grandfather. It wasn't the punishment Janet was worried about. Not really. The main fear was having this man be disappointed in her. "I want you to know that I am sincerely sorry for ignoring your authority in the matter and taking action on my own. But I won't apologize for what I did."
Hammond seemed surprised by that. "You won't?"
"No, sir. I will apologize to you for going over your head and acting unilaterally. But as for my actions... no. I will not apologize. I would do it again given the chance." She smiled ruefully. "And given where we work, I might have the chance."
Hammond leaned back in his seat. "Dr. Fraiser, you are primarily a physician. But you also hold the rank of major, and are therefore beholden to the rules and regulations of the military leadership of this base. You assaulted an airman and took his weapon, using it to hold a prisoner of this base at gunpoint. Do you realize the consequences of what you did?"
"I do, sir. The consequences were that Cassandra might not get better. Because of what I did... she will." She raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Those were the only consequences I thought of. Cassandra is better because of what I did. I won't apologize for it."
Hammond held her gaze for a long moment and then, after an interminable silence, nodded once. His posture relaxed and he folded his hands in front of him again. "I kept imagining Tessa or Kayla in Cassie's situation and, for the life of me I cannot understand what kept you from pulling that trigger. If some Goa'uld had messed with those girls, there wouldn't have been a power on this Earth that would stop me."
"Thank you, sir. I'm glad you understand, sir."
"I do. And that is why, as far as anyone outside of this base is concerned, Nirrti accepted the terms of our deal willingly. She decided to heal Cassandra in exchange for her freedom. Adding anything more would just muddy the waters."
Janet couldn't help a smile as relief washed over her. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
"You're dismissed, Doctor." Janet turned and reached for the doorknob. "Oh, and Doctor. The airman you knocked out--"
Janet chuckled and nodded. "Him, I will give an apology."
Hammond smiled and went back to the work she had interrupted. Janet stepped out of the office and leaned against the wall as she let the relief wash over her. There were so many ways that could have gone, so many punishments he could have doled out. The IOA, given this scenario, might have declared her an unfit guardian for Cassie - "prone to fits of violence, unstable behavior" - and taken the girl away from her.
She was grateful her fate was in the hands of General George Hammond. He was a military man first and foremost, but family was of the utmost importance to him. And he understood the things you had to do for your family.