One: Jaffa Da Ripper
One: Jaffa Da Ripper
by Rev Gunner
Summary: Hammond, disgusted by Lt. Col. Samuels cowardly actions decides it's time to grant Samuels request to be sent Off World, to Minoas. How the team deals with a mishap, and each other in the
meantime.
Category: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Challenge, Crossovers, Drama, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, POV, Romance, Series, Thoughts, Other
Episode Related: 201 Serpents Lair
Crossover: other (not listed)
Season: any Season
Pairing: Daniel/other, other pairing
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: adult themes, minor character death, violence
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
Archived on: 02/04/04
AUTHOR: Lt. Col. St. Gunner(SGA)
TITLE: Jaffa Da Ripper-Copyright 2003-Rev. Gunner #1 of the SG-Legacy Series
RATING: FF13 (Parents Strongly Cautioned): This Fan Fic contains some material that many parents would find unsuitable for children under 13 years of age. Parents are strongly urged to exercise greater care in monitoring this fan fic and are cautioned against letting children under the age of 14 read unattended. This fan fic contains one or more of the following: intense violence (V), intense sexual situations (S), strong coarse language (L), or intensely suggestive dialogue (D).
CATEGORY: Mystery, Real Life Earth History, Time Travel, Beginning Shipper (Karl towards Lazaria), Hurt/Comfort
Secondary SG Character Focus: Lt. Col. Karl Samuels
Author Created SG Characters: LtCol. Dorian Apollo, LtCol/Rev. Lazaria Gunner, Dr. Jamesy Morrison, Dr. Janis Pearl, Bat
SG Cameos: Gen. Hammond, Dr. Jackson, Gate Tech. Walter Davis, Sgt. Siller, Martin/Selmac/Jacob Carter.
SPOILERS: Post "The Serpent's Lair", What Becomes of Lt. Col. Samuels (Robert Wisden). Will he always be a rat-fink jerk? Tune in.
SUMMARY: Hammond, disgusted by Lt. Col. Samuels cowardly actions decides it's time to grant Samuels request to be sent Off World, to Minoas. How the team deals with a mishap, and each other in the meantime.
ARCHIVE: Please ask my permission to Archive this Original Escapade on a site other than Heliopolis . All intellectual property rights are retained by the author including copyrights. Please do not reprint or reproduce in any way without written permission from the author. Use of non SG-1 Characters by other authors is strictly forbidden. (in other words, if you want to write a storey, you may NOT use my characters/thier personalities, my plots or mytharcs. Do NOT plagerise, Make up your own secondary non SG-1 characters) Email: KitsunegariBlu@yahoo.com.
FEEDBACK: Constructive Criticism, Monetary Donations, Screen Writing Job Offers, Requests for a mission featuring a particular culture and Lavish Praise is welcome at: KitsunegariBlu@yahoo.com
Hate Mail, Snarky Criticism, People livid over my alternate spin on Show MythArc/Cannon And other Vile Complaints can be sent directly to DeepSix@Circular-File.yuk
HOMEPAGE: AHU-Archaeology & History, SG-1 & Real http://groups.yahoo.com/group/archeologicalhistoricalunit
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters, dialogue and plotlines are the property of Showtime/Viacom, SciFi Channel, MGM/UA, Double Secret and Gekko productions. No copyright infringement is intended. Please don't sue me (unless you're Peter DeLuis..in that case only do it in person & don't file a restraining order if I spontaneously spout romantic poetry in Spanish.) I'm poor, all you'd get is my mountain bike, that needs a new tube. And a stack of reference books, that my friends refuse to chip in to replace.
BETA READERS: My RL & PL Family, Brett, Donny, Irene, Kes, Lorri, Sienna, Templar & Thren
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm a huge fan of the horribly under rated Robert Wisden & I wanted to play with Time Travel, instead of the usual Parallel Universe Theories.
The Stargate Association (SGA) is a SG-1 Fansite. This is my 1st attempt at Fan Fic.
I am introducing quite a few of my own characters, because I don't really feel qualified to run such established characters as SG-1, other than as a cameo.
My grasp of SG-1 technology, is lacking. Do not email, pointing out, any serious Laws of Physics & Show Errors.
Yes I know that the episode was set in the 90's, but I'm pretending it just happened at SGA in 2004. I realize what the show Cannon says, but I am still choosing to take CREATIVE LIBERTIES, as the author.
Remember this is after all science fiction. So be open minded, suspend your ability to creatively think. I do hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. XvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvXvX
*******CHAPTER ONE: Paybacks Are A Glyph
The order sat in Hammond's in box for a few days while he saw to the rest of the loose ends. SG-1 had returned safely, and he just finished reading Carters Mission Report, he smiled.
'Coffee, No Tea...oh heck, anything..I need something to drink.' George muttered to himself, walking over to the mini fridge in his office. Reaching in, he withdrew an ice cold water. He looked at it, less than enthusiastically, hoping for something else.
He bent over and peered into the mini fridge, hoping there was something else hiding further back on the shelf, but it was still cleaned out.
'Water it is.' He returned to his large wooden desk, sitting back down in his comfortable leather chair with a tired sigh, grabbing the file from his in box, just to have something else to do, and started to flip through the manila folder while he poured the crystal clear water into the glass tumbler on his desk blotter.
"Mission to MIN-123, Minoas..." The MALP had sent back very promising information, & they'd already sent one team, that had been welcomed warmly. It was a nice planet, with an active Stargate, that was apparently still used for travel by the locals. The whole planet was a string of Mediterranean like Islands, that could only be reached by what appeared to be oversized solar gondolas, that were rowed at night.
The Minoans just needed the SGA to send in some reinforcements with medical supplies, because the Minoans were busy trying to find a cure for an island wide malady. Not to mention S11/D2, wanted to send more people to check out their ruins.
He had to think of a team to send through though, he sipped the refreshing water & pondered, doodling on his note pad, 'SG-1 is on leave, having just saved the planet again..so I don't want to disturb their much needed rest...Um..SG4, no they're off world...'
He pulled his computer keyboard towards himself, and using both hands, instead of hunting & pecking for the letters, like someone else he knew who was currently on leave, he pulled up the list of people available for Off World Missions. .'Alright..Parkers on Rest Leave..' He yawned.
'Speaking of a rest,' George thought to himself, 'when is Samuels going to give me a darn rest? I wish I could demote him on principle, after his recent show of 'bravery.'
George rolled his eyes, 'Demanding to go off world like that....it'd serve him right if he actually did go off world. At least THEN, he'd know what those teams really have to go through, and he'd reconsider the next time he thought that sacrificing a team was a valid option.'
He was still very irritated with Lt. Col. Samuels utter lack of understanding and compassion for any SG team, not just SG-1.
George was certain that Samuels actions and opinions were due to all the time he spent working in Area 51 with Maybourne & the NID.
George chuckled to himself, took a drink of water. A sly smile slid across his face, 'That's not half bad...I wouldn't mind actually cashing in some favors.'
He picked up the phone, and started dialing up some old 'friends', as he signed the Mission Orders for team members he wanted for this new mission. When he placed his last initial, he had an Airman stop by his office with a cup of coffee, then had the young lady deliver the orders to the operatives he'd chosen to fit the bill.
*******CHAPTER TWO: Off World Orders
Dr. Daniel Jackson was supposed to be home sleeping, but in reality, he was still too wired from his jaunt in the Sarcophagus.
Coming back from near death, had that sort of an affect on a guy.
He decided to putter around the main Archaeology Lab, because he wanted to check on the status of a new artifact they were deciphering.
It'd been found on an ancient parchment type scroll, but it started crumbling, before they had a good chance to read it. It'd also been written in some archaic form of Goa'uld, so he was really looking forward to going over it soon.
That and well, he just found the lab peaceful. Though it hadn't always been this way, but then again, it didn't always have the Team Leader of the Grammaton Clerics, who was also one of the Base Chaplins, running it so efficiently. The fact that it was four am on a weekday helped to imbued the whole department with a new found tranquility as well.
She was in the room by herself, peering through a microscope. Looking the part of an orthodox priest, wearing her floor length black cassock, & white Chaplains collar, her raven hair, in a prim braid, that disappeared down the back of her cassock.
There was a base bet about her hair. No one knew how long it was, the kitty was pretty big.
Daniel sauntered over, leaning forward to sneak a peek through the other eye piece. He hadn't meant to be so light footed, but the floor had rubber tiles, and it masked the sound of his walking.
Gunner jumped sky high, dropping her tweezers, her hand disappeared like a flash. Before Daniel knew it, he was pinned to the wall beside the work counter. She used his own weight to trap his hand behind his back.
He raised his other hand defensively, but open palmed so she could see he wasn't armed. He could feel a silvery throwing knife, cold against his jugular.
He felt transfixed by the blood chilling honeyed topaz gaze he was getting from the usually mild mannered, jovial, & unassuming Chaplain.
"watt yowerk on?" Daniel managed to squeak. He'd heard talk of the transformation in their base chaplain when threatened.
The locker room skinny, was that she'd once been part of a 'hush hush' black ops eraser team, but something'd gone haywire in South America, which prompted her to turn over a new leaf, finish University with flying colors and join the Clergy as a Minister. Though to be honest, she wasn't fooling anyone who knew anything about the church. She modeled her learning and Chapel services after the Jesuits & Carolinians, who were known for being the original warrior priests. Not to mention their voracious thirst for knowledge.
It was also more than apparent that even though she went out of her way to be a pacifist... sometimes instincts kick in & old habits died hard.
Hammond had shown Daniel her impressive records, and at his okay, he'd had her reinstated, and brought to the SGA.
Her Extensive Archaeology skills, and the fact that Hammond didn't need to give her any new Military Training, had made her a real Keeper the past three years. It didn't hurt that she did double duty as the Base Chaplain, so that he felt better being able to offer someone with not only clearance, but knowledge of the SGA, who'd also been off world, so she could sympathize and really help his Base run more efficiently, because she was someone the soldiers trusted and could talk to about anything.
One less civilian they needed to special order, was good in Daniels opinion, the fact that she was as good as he was when it came to learning new languages, only served to make him like her more.
It was as if the fog had lifted & the lively twinkle was back in Gunners eyes when she realized it was only Daniel. She resheathed the throwing dagger, where ever it was she'd yanked it from, ran her finger across Daniel's chin, playfully, "5 O'clock Shadow..lucky you're a Civvie, least Brass give you a demerit."
She winked, "Oh, and I was working on" she bend down & retrieved her tweezers, "getting the deteriorated scroll onto a new backing, and I've been gluing all the fragments back into place. So we can read it finally."
Just like that, not another word, or a sorry. She just pretended nearly using Daniel as a pin cushion was a fading dream, and was back to business as usual.
"But you should know that, you're the one who left it on the to do list. Aren't you up late Danny?" She asked conversationally, picking up what looked like random fibers to anyone who didn't know any better, & placed them on the parchment.
"Couldn't sleep..I could say the same for you though." He felt his neck, and drew back a clean hand.
Just then an Airman came to the door & knocked on the jam. "Permission to Enter Lt. Col. Gunner Sir."
Daniel saw Gunner sigh, shaking her head, "Permission granted..but Garret, how many times do I have to tell you, when it's just us, you don't have to be formal." She held out her hand, and took the paper from the new girl, who blushed the second Daniel looked at her.
Gunner read the memo, then stuck her tongue out playfully at Daniel, "Pack my bags lovey, I'm going for a three hour tour." She giggled at her little joke, passing him the memo to look over.
"Man, just my luck, I'm on leave...well don't have too much fun without me, and don't forget to take the lens cap off your digital camera this time." Daniel offered by way of advice.
"Lay off it tech boy. You know I hate newfangled stuff. Leave me to my trusty antique 35 mm Cam & I'm ready to go." She blushed.
It wasn't any secret, everyone knew she was this world's, & any other that they'd gone to so far, worst technologically minded person. Ever.
The young Airman stood there waiting until Gunner looked at her, mesmerized by the very handsome, and important SG-1 member. Gunner sighed, "Dismissed..see you for the Sunday Service, and if I'm not here, don't forget to give Fr. Mulchahey a hand."
"Yes Sir, glad to help when I can Sir." the girl forgot herself again, and snapped off another salute, which Gunner returned, and left.
"How come you hate when they salute so much," Daniel finally asked.
"I usually have my rosary in my hand, and I tend to jab my eye every time I'm forced to return a salute," She said honestly, he snickered.
"Well, enough of this. I need to go grab my gear, for the sunny, sandy beaches..might even break out my swimsuit...I hope they don't have any strange alien water predators.." she added as an after thought, then shook her head, handing him the tweezers, "Good luck, I'm off for a cat nap, I've got to be ready to leave in a few."
*******CHAPTER THREE: Gathering The Team
When her watch vibrated, she woke to the sound of someone quietly reciting a prayer, her eyes took in the gentle flicker of votive candle lights she kept on in the Chapel 24/7. She felt her waist, and patted the huge wooden rosary beads, she wore like a monk, then felt over her heart and felt the miniature prayer book she always took with her on Away Missions.
Grabbing the edge of the pew, she sat up and more heard, than saw, the bulky prayer reciting figure jump, "wh..Oh it's just you Gunner."
This was one persons voice, that no one could mistake, once they met him. He was the only person who'd been her for gosh knows how long, and still managed to keep his distinctive New Yawk accent.
"Yes, I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you Dorian. Don't let me interrupt." she grabbed the backpack, she always had ready for an off world mission, but had to unpack, because and only take very warm weather and water gear. Which meant that most of the things in her back were in zip lock baggies.
"I have to leave for the Gate Room." She tugged her cassock, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, grabbed a flask of mint tea, slipping it into her cotton cassock & went briskly down the hall w/ her gear over her shoulder.
She heard his shoes padding on the floor. "I'll keep you company, just happens I'm on my way to the same place..going to Minoas as well."
They made an odd pair trudging down the hallway together. She was all of 5 ft tall, creamed caramel skin, and weight the fluctuated from under what she should be, to 20 lbs over what her ideal was..all depending on how much she liked the Off World Cuisine.
While Dorian Apollo was 6 feet 9 inches of lean, mean fighting machine. He'd won himself the honor of Golden Gloves back when he was with the FBI, but hadn't had a match since he'd been transferred to the SGA. And resembled a blond, blue eyed Greek Adonis come to earth, talked like a Wise Guy from some 20's Gangster Flick, Harbored many unPC thoughts and was secure enough to voice most of them, believed there were good guys and bad guys, and that good would always prevail. And was crazy in love with his second wife, who was also and accomplishes SGA Officer.
They literally looked like night & day as he strolled casually & she walked briskly down the hall. People watching would think that she was trying to keep up with him, not the other way around.
"How's your wife?" Gunner said by way of making small talk.
"Doll's just fine..'cept for da early mornin Off World Mission ta help find Waldo da pesky bacteria." He shrugged.
Even though the Memo had said they could dress casual, if they wanted, Dorian was decked out in his usual green bdu's & brown T-shirt.
"Do you sleep in those?" She teased him.
"Do ya have a closet full of those?" He pulled at the sleeve of her snug cassock, giving her a half smile.
"Touche." she giggled, as they walked past Siller, "Missed you for Sunday Services."
"Had the day off, spent it with family Sir." He replied with a sheepish smile.
"Oh, now that's a grand way to spend the day. Hope you had a helping of your Mothers wonderful potato salad for me." she winked, Siller nodded.
"Is there anyone ya don't know an like?" Dorian asked.
*******CHAPTER FOUR: Ready, Set, Go
They got to the Gate room, and Gunner looked up & waved to Walter who gave her a puzzled look, because he wasn't used to being actually acknowledged much by the Away Teams, he gave her a half smile, twisted and pulled things on his high-tech console & the rings started to spin into place.
"Kinda looks like that guy in da Wizard a Oz, futzing wit all those knobs." Dorian said, following her gaze up at the control room.
"You mean the Professor..and you know he can hear you right?" Gunner said.
Hammond, had left the base, but had come back special just to see the team off himself.
Lt. Col. Dorian Apollo, was an excellent soldier, he just had a problem keeping some of his more colorful opinions to himself, and he had an annoying Maverick streak, that made him wonder if he was secretly related to Jack.
He saw Rev. Gunner waving, and realized it was at him. He nodded back, acknowledging her with a smile. Sometimes she was just too chipper. She'd invariably send her report back on this mission, saying that she had some gut feeling that something wonderful was going to happen, and that she got to see some miraculous event, place, person, or artifact.
Then she'd gush for a few more pages of personal notes.
His eyes wandered over the rest of the team. They had their supplies with them, five interlocking black boxes, that contained all sorts of medical supplies, if they needed more, they'd be able to send back a list.
The nice thing was that the stack, when assembled had wheels, to help them maneuver it across flat terrain. But could be disassembled into the individual compartments, one box to a member. They could tie them onto the gondola, and would be able to let them float. All in all, it was a very good set up.
Dr. Jamesy Morrison, who was only about 37, and was 5'7'' looked lost in thought, but then again, Hammond noticed the man always looked lost in thought.
Dr. Janis Pearl, a pretty blonde, 5'8'' and also about 37, was chatting with him, having been on less missions than he.
Dorian Apollo & Rev. Gunner were taking in the sight of the stack of things they'd have to lug with them to the Minoan Hospital.
It took them a few moments to realize that the tall, but not as tall as Dorian, guy in an Air Force blue suit that Team diplomats usually wore, wasn't doing anything the techs usually did pre gate departure.
"Hope we don't have to baby-sit Davis again." Gunner heard Dorian mutter.
"It's plainly 'not', Paul," Gunner remarked in hushed tones.
"And you're Miss Cleo now?" Dorian sarcastically questioned.
"Don't be a goof, Paul's got darker hair..you can tell the man's got brown hair." She started.
"Pauls hair is brown." He interrupted.
"Don't tell me you're colour blind. I meant that Paul's hair is dark brown, that mans is sort of a sandy brown." She rolled her eyes. "Just what 'did' they teach you in the way of observation skills at Quantico." She teased.
The 1st chevron locked into place, and Gunner started to sing, Kay Star's "The Wheel of Fortune'. Dorian guffawed, Janis was a little surprised at first, then giggled. Jamesy ignored her while Walter just shook his head smiling & continued dialing out.
Lt. Col. Karl Samuels was lost deep in thought. he didn't know who owed George this sort of a favor, but darned if George didn't get him stuck going on this cockamamie off world mission. Frankly, Karl didn't want to leave Earth for places no Tauri had ever been before. That could be done by other saps, who were expendable.
Bad things could happen Off World, he'd read the reports. Jaffa, Aliens that could disappear..probably even flesh eating zombies. Okay, that was probably not one of the things he was going to run into. But if he was going to list outlandish things. He may as well go whole hog.
He didn't get to the rank of Lt. Col. by being a spineless jerk like George and the rest of the SGA seemed to think.
Or maybe he did. After all he was promoted during the Gulf War when the plane he was on went down behind enemy lines & he was the only one that made it back. But who was he to spit in the face of years of military procedure. He was a Lt. Col. Now, and that was that. He didn't give a care to what anyone else thought of him.
Of course the government didn't sensationalize that, he was after all in the country on what would be considered Secret National Security Business..but regardless of all that, he had phenomenal luck, and just like he made it out of that mess, George had another think coming if he thought he couldn't hack a little off world trip to some literal back water hole in the universe with four yokels who played at being intergalactic Lewis and Clarks.
All he had to do was be a diplomat, no sweat. 'When would that woman shut up?' He thought to himself. feeling what he imagined was a burst of air when the splash back whooshed out, and wishing George was standing beside him, so he could have a convenient muscle spasm and shove his condescending bald head into it.
The last chevron snapped into place and Gunner muttered a benediction, as the splash back happened, & the event horizon shimmered. The portal contained within the center circle of the Stargate.
Then she continued singing the next verse, as the medics let she & Dorian pass first, their mysterious, sulking team mate falling into step to Dorian's left.
Karl's' nerves were a wreck, he couldn't take another note, even if under different circumstances he did like the song & even the way she was singing it. So much for music calming the savage beast..please shut up.
Gunner & Dorian had just set their left feet into the puddle, when the Mystery Man ordered tersely, "This is far from trivial, kindly keep your singing to yourself."
"First time eh?" Gunner said patiently, looking around Dorian & being quite shocked to see Lt. Col. Karl Samuels scowling at her. She knew him on sight, even if she didn't actually know anything about him.
He was very pasty, she knew she was right. 'Please not a hurler.' She silently hoped.
Karl was equally as stunned to see that the team Chaplain was not only going along on the mission, but had been the jovial singer & was a woman.
Karl felt a cold sweat break out across his forehead.
'This is the point of no return..just keep walking the walk & no one will know you're having second thoughts'. He grit his teeth.
He really didn't want to prove Georges point, even if he was well within his rights to tell George to cram his mission orders in his circular file.
Dorian turned his head & immediately recognizing Karl, looking over his shoulder accusingly at the Gate room, "Oh NO..yor NOT sending us tru wit dis As....."
Karl's eyes got larger, he couldn't believe this knuckle head was actually calling him that, but it was too late, he was thru the Stargate.
Hammond had his poker face on, but was going to have a very hearty laugh when he got back to his office & was alone.
"Permission to speak freely Sir." Walter looked at Hammond, who nodded.
It was a run of the mill operation, the only people in the Control room right now were Hammond & Walter, Siller was down in the Gate room, after having done some emergency maintenance repair work on the Stargate.
"Don't you think it was just a little mean to our team, to stick them with 'him' Sir?"
"They've dealt with System Lords Davis, Samuels will be a piece of cake." Hammond replied.
The rest of Dorian's complaint was cut short because by now, the three of them had entered the Puddle & were currently being sent atom by random atom through the universe to their destination.
The medics entered next, in their long flowing lab coats & sensible shoes, lugging their stack of medical supplies with them.
Just as soon as they were out of sight, Walters Control panel started to fizzle and pop, sending him lunging for the electrical fire extinguisher, and to his & Stillers, who was still in the Gate room, horror, they saw the ring on the gate shift a smidgen from where it was supposed to be, then the whole thing surged, then shut off like a blown out light bulb.
Siller looked up to the Gate Room, "Walt, what's going on up there?" he looked concerned.
He didn't like the look on Walters face at all, the man looked panicked.
"I dunno..fix it on your end, I'll get on it here," Siller shouted, as he put out a secondary electrical fire in the gate room.
Hammonds jovial mood was replaced by worry, "They did arrive at Minoas..didn't they?"
"I.." Walter began, then said a little more softly, "I hope they arrived at there Sir. I have no way of knowing until I can get our computer back on line."
He anticipated Hammond next command, "I'll call you as soon as it's operational, and we can verify their safe arrival."
*******CHAPTER FIVE: We're Not In Kansas Anymore
"...ole..." Dorian was the first out of the gate..but something didn't feel right.
He'd done this before, it was like riding a bike, just faster. Only this time there wasn't terra firma under his boots, & it was foggy. He stepped out into thin air, & tumbled into a brick wall.
"Definitely not right.." He landed like a cat, who was just pushed out of a tree by a squirrel.
He saw a shimmering light about 4 feet off the ground, and maybe he hit his head, but it was moving away from him. This was definitely a new one on him.
The only thing he was certain of, was that he was in what appeared to be a dark alleyway. All he could think was that perhaps someone took the stairs away..and he hit his head.
There was another arc of light as lightening flashed across the sky, followed by a bellow of thunder. Rain poured down in sheets.
He saw Gunner tumble out of the Stargate next, looking like a graceful gymnast, who by sheer luck, just avoided a huge puddle.
He didn't feel like such a goon, because he could see she looked just as puzzled as he felt.
She immediately rose to her feet, dusting herself off, smoothing down her cassock like she did when she was nervous, "Who took the darn ramp?"
She would have said more, but she'd spun on her heels, to face the direction a strange whining keel was emitting from.
Karl couldn't really put the feeling of being rendered down to his basic electrical components, into word. He just thought it felt like it simultaneously lasted his entire life, as it flashed before his eyes, but conversely felt as though he must have dreamed the entire experience, because his left foot was following his right, and just setting down, as if all he'd done is cross a threshold.
He'd heard a strange sound in his head, like the groan of wind. It didn't actually occur to him, that it was 'him' whining, until his foot found no purchase and he flailed his arms, reaching for anything to get a hold of.
That's when the feelings rushed back to him, completely overwhelming him. He felt that the beads of sweat on his forehead had turned to ice. He'd never experienced it, but he'd seen it happen before, he knew he was going into shock, going to be violently ill, if he couldn't rationalize what'd just happened.
Dorian couldn't make it to Gunner in enough time, to pull her aside, but it was Lt. Col. Samuels, who came out of the Stargate next, flailing his arms a bit, and careening directly into Gunner, making her land with a splat on the cobble stone pavement, then to add injury to insult the fat guy flopped unceremoniously on top of her.
Gunner, had just got her bearings, and would have been A-okay, until she saw a big man shaped blob whizzing towards her, before she could duck or roll to the side, it slammed right into her, knocking the breath out of her, momentarily stunning her. Then slamming her backwards into the very puddle Dorian just saw her gracefully miss moments before.
Dorian heard a quick successions of cracks, their impact into each other, then her onto the cobblestones..all in all, they were loud enough to wake the dead.
The water that didn't soak directly through her cotton cassock down to her very bones, splashed. If the impact hadn't left her breathless, the sudden frigid water he'd submersed her into would have.
There was an intense pain in her left arm..no, her hand..maybe her wrist.
Hopefully it was just sprained.
Samuels shivered uncontrollably, having never been through the Stargate before, gagged momentarily, thankfully, controlling his urge to purge.
Her eyes were huge, she could forgive many things, if he upchucked on her like a newborn..she'd have his head on a platter. She tried to push on him with her hands, and the pain shot through her left arm again. His weight was crushing her, making it a chore to even try to breath.
Tears streamed out of her eyes, but no one noticed, because it was raining so hard. The only thing keeping it from feeling like it was slapping her in the face, was he was partially over her.
A fictional Headline crossed across the screen of her mind, "SG Archeologist Killed by Flying Samuels, in freak off world mishap..more on page 7..then flipping to page 7..the only thing printed there would be a photo of her flat as a pancake."
Funny that Karl had never read about it being so unbearably cold. He was discombobulated, but the cold rain, helped him gather his wits. The fact that his cushy landing had started to thrash beneath him, alarmed him, which sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He was sure he landed on some brain sucking alien plant, he heard it speaking alien to him, it kept saying,""Ge im...offff, OFff!"
Gunner squirmed feeling the irrational panic over the headline mount, as he eased up, she was able to breath. The air was thick with the smell of garbage..not that Samuels didn't have nice cologne on..but she truly smelled refuse near by on the night air.
Dorian couldn't help but laugh, seeing Gunners little leg that was sticking out kick a few times, as she tried in vain to get Samuels off of her & heard her slightly panicked & horribly muffled voice repeating, "Ge im...offff, OFff!"
Karl, keen on keeping his brain to himself thank you very much, thrust his hands in front of himself, his palms pressing into the yielding form beneath him, for leverage so he could get up.
Thinking it was just like his supposed team mates, to be no where in sight they were probably nearby watching him. They'd probably been told to bring him to this horrible place, and let the aliens dispose of him.
Lightning flashed again, illuminating that woman on his teams face quite clearly, "Get him off!" he finally heard quite clearly.
He got to his knees, yanking his hands back, once he realized where he'd placed them, but he didn't get out of the way fast enough, because he got a very hard slap right across the face.
"Pig!" Was all Gunner could muster, mistake or not, she was blushing horribly. She wasn't used to being manhandled.
Dorian was out right laughing at Samuels predicament, and the little but flaming red handprint on Samuels cheek. He'd have let Gunner crack him another good one, but he thought she might like to get out of what was left of the puddle, before she really laid into him.
Dorian reached forward, grabbing Samuels under the arm, giving him a yank, hoisting him to his feet suddenly.
Just then Dorian & Gunner saw both medics & their supplies came tumbling out of the Stargate..was it just him, or did it look even further away, Jamesy, fell into a bin, while Janis cracked her head on a wall.
Karl, upon his sudden shift of equilibrium felt horribly nauseous again, and clumsily stumbled over to the brick wall, bracing himself and emptied his lunch all over the cobblestone.
"Wow, that's how Lt. Colonels charm the ladies." Dorian said, Gunner made a face.
"Oh this is just a mess. What on Earths going on?" She muttered to Dorian under her breath, who just shrugged his shoulders.
'This is exactly what that bout of the flu that landed me in hospital felt like', Karl thought miserably to himself. He was furious, he'd thought he'd had his queasiness under control, he dry heaved.
Gunners embarrassment & anger swiftly dissipated. Janis had struck her head & Jamesy was tending her wound, which left Samuels on his own.
Gunner couldn't help but feel a smidgen of compassion for the guy, it was after all his first trip through the gate, her hand was in her pocket & it brushed against the zip lock baggie. She sighed.
In all good consciousness, she couldn't not try to help the guy out, he was obviously having a really rough time of his first gate trip and he was a Team Member.
She pulled out some dried sugared ginger & went over to Samuels, who she was certain would have been laying on the ground, if he hadn't propped himself up against the wall.
"You're suffering from a wicked case of what is basically motion sickness. If you promise not to be fresh," she held out a strip of Ginger to him, "I'll give you a piece to chew on..it should help."
He managed to take the bit of sugared ginger & tentatively sucked on it. "It's sweet," then he plopped the other half of the strip into his mouth, and chewed it, "It's hot." He looked hurt. As if she'd meant to trick him.
"It's real Ginger, folk remedy for motion sickness. I have more if you need it." She had her right hand on his arm, he couldn't tell if she was honestly trying to be helpful, or if she was secretly trying to antagonize him. She smiled, softly saying "You're welcome by the way."
He nodded, apparently thinking that the customary, 'thank you' was too much to start with.
"I have to go check on the others." She said. "I'll be over there if you need more." She went to tuck the baggie into her pocket, but he grabbed it.
"K, you hold that..and I'll still be over there." She acquiesced, turning and walking over to check on Janis & Jamesy.
Dorian caught her gaze, and they gave each other the, 'great, a newbie & things have to go haywire' glance.
Most of the worst fog had lifted by the time everyone had been accounted for, and had their wits about them.
"This doesn't look like any Mediterranean Island Planet I've ever seen." Samuels pointed out.
"Thank you Lt. Col. Obvious." Dorian shot him a dirty look.
"C'mon, don't." Janis put her hand up.
"Actually we have a more pressing matter people," Jamesy was looking down the alley, in first one, then the other direction, "where the blazes did the Stargate go?"
That definitely got everyone's attention. After about ten minutes of searching high and low for it, they'd discovered, that there wasn't a gate in sight.
"They don't just grow feet & walk away people. If we don't find that gate, how the heck are we going to get home?" Samuels whined, the fear heavy in his voice.
Dorian leaned into him, saying gently enough for only him to hear, "If you panic the team, Gunner's going to be saying last rites over your corpse...savvy?" Dorian popped his knuckles to punctuate his message.
"I could have you demoted." Samuels hissed.
"Not if you're in a pine box. Keep a lid on your issues pal." Even though Karl realized Apollo had a point, it still irked him, the way he talked down to him. He filed away the crass soldiers remarks & looked at the other little people on his team, to see if these supposed geniuses had any solutions to their current predicament.
"Well, it's nice we know where we're 'not'..but I, for one, would like to know where exactly we 'did' get to." Gunner suggested.
"It's not like Walter to send us to the wrong place. No need to panic," she put her arm around Janis, who looked like she was about to burst into tears, from a mixture of her horrible headache, and not being able to find the Stargate, they all distinctly recalled falling out of.
"Yeah, they'll sort out the malfunction on their end, & we'll be home in a jiffy," Janis said as brightly as she could muster in the darkened alley, and despite her ever lowering spirits.
Jamesy hadn't been off world all that often himself, but he'd read as many off world mission reports as he could..and frankly nothing good EVER came from ending up someplace you weren't supposed to go. "Okay, I have an idea."
He was interrupted by Samuels, "Okay, I'm the highest ranking officer, I'm in charge. First we find out where we are, then we locate that missing Gate."
They blinked, looking at each other, then to Dorian who came off like a major jock, but actually knew a thing or twelve about these sorts of emergencies, and who coincidentally also happened to be in charge of the mission.
Dorian didn't want to have a testosterone match with Samuels, though if he kept restating things they were already going to do, he was going to make good use of that duct tape in his bag.
*******CHAPTER SIX: Circus In Town?
"Won't find any gates in a dark alley." A deep bass voice suddenly said, from somewhere behind Jamesy's left shoulder. The guy had an accent so thick you could have cut it with a steak knife.
Definitely not American, though he was definitely speaking some sort of English. It also, unfortunately it wasn't tinged with the Greco-Roman accent they knew to expect from the Minoans, "Wot's in the box? Yew lot knicked fings did yews?"
The five of them backed into the street, where the flaming naphtha lights flickering suddenly, swathing them in an eerie glow, between the rain drops.
"Wot's wiff yew lot?" The Victorian Bobby came into view, he'd unsheathed his baton & was slapping it against the palm of his left hand, ready for some sort of skirmish.
Being rather swift with dialects, Gunner, looked to the cobble stones, "We're a theater troupe, who have lost our way. If you could be of any assistance, we would greatly welcome it Constable."
The man apparently satisfied with that explanation, because he'd never seen the sorts of clothing they were wearing, continued, "Lemme guess, juss got off tha boat, an chose tha cheapest cabby, who up an left yew 'ere."
Jamesy nodded, "Just how it happened sir...stole our money too."
"Ruff luck that, whell, yew'd best be on yor way, this is a 'ard side of town ta be a forn'er in." He looked at the men on the team, "See that yew don't leave your wymen folk unescorted 'ere. Keeps ta yor left an yew can make it ta pubs row.
If'n yor any gud perhaps yew can sell your services in one a the many pubs, ta make sum coins for yor purse."
"Thank you so much Constable..oh Sir? We were en route so long, we really are rather confounded to what the date is, and where exactly that Cabbie left us." Gunner said, trying to go along with what the man already thought.
"M'dear lady it's November 1888 a'course..an yor in jolly old England." He twirled his stick and walked away whistling, just like they did in old black and white movies.
"Did he just.." Samuels started.
"Boy, you pencil pusher Lt. Colonels are mighty swift on the uptake Sir." Dorian's voice dripped with sarcasm. He looked at the medics, hoping one of the Eggheads had a valid explanation.
*******CHAPTER SEVEN: Gas, Food, Lodging
A sneeze, made it through the team, like a wave. First Janis, then Dorian right on down the line, until it stopped at Karl, who managed to stay the driest, because he didn't get submersed into any puddles as deep as the Thames.
They'd been trying to follow the Constables directions, but didn't really have an idea of what they'd do once they arrived in the shopping district. It's not like they could go to the lost and found and ask if someone turned in a ancient artifact, that was capable of opening wormholes so people could engage in space travel..and apparently if there were enough quantum glitches, could adapt the artifact into a vessel for time travel as well. Dorian snickered to himself. He could see them all being loaded into a rubber room.
'It's not like the Mall where you could act like a little kid, and go to the information desk and just page the Stargate, hoping it'd come get you.' Janis mused out loud, which got a few laughs from her team mates, and a rather terse, 'That's not helpful.' from Samuels.
The November rain had decided to add a chilling wind to it's repertoire. Jamesy walked with his arm around Janis, to keep her from stumbling. Samuels seemed to know where he was going, and had the point. Dorian was a few paces behind him, with his hands crammed into his pockets.
'Caught somewhere in time..' he started to whistle the Iron Maiden song.
Gunner was bringing up the rear, leaned down, picked up a stone, and whipped it at his six. He lurched a little as it cracked him, then rubbed the spot. "Everyone's a critic."
For all his sniveling, and his adverse reaction to his first jump, Gunner was keeping her eyes on Samuels. He had one of those personalities that exuded remarkable self awareness. He was very sure of himself and his surroundings.
She'd been around Janis on base. She was a sweet, if slightly insecure woman. She didn't have many friends, but that was just because she was too shy to get invited out very often.
She had that Nervous Nelly sort of personality, and she couldn't tell if she was shaking because she was cold, or because she was scared. There was nothing wrong with being scared, it was a natural human response. She just hoped and prayed that she wasn't one of those people who were prone to exaggerated displays of theatrics.
Jamesy on the other hand, was a social butterfly. He wasn't so bad he was just your average fella who liked a movie, and good dinners with acquaintances, even though he had a tendency to be a bit of a Cad.
She'd been on an Off World Mission with him once or twice, and he seemed to know what he was doing. He'd even asked her to teach him Goa'uld once.
Dorian, he was a horse of a different color. He'd just gotten remarried to one of the only people on base, she considered a good friend. Not just another colleague. They had the best poker game on base every Friday night, so long as you had the office supplies to bet with.
Last week, as a matter of fact, she'd had the winning hand, that got her a ream of copy paper, and a box of white out, and a handful of her favorite green highlighters. It called for a Snoopy Dance of victory in the middle of the poker table.
She'd been on nearly every mission she'd ever gone on with Dorian. He was definitely someone she could count on to do the right thing. He had a definite sense of justice, and morality. He couldn't be bought off, or harassed. He looked out for his comrades, and didn't have any qualms over protecting his team, or their objective by any means necessary.
But Samuels..she'd seen when he came on Base now and then. She knew his name, but not really too much about him. From some of the base chit chat, which she inevitably heard all of. One would be surprised how much people take for granted the Base Chaplin, who also serves in a pinch as the Officers' Lounge Barkeep. You'd be even more surprised at the sorts of things they let slip when she's around.
So needless to say, she expected to see some used car salesmany sort of person, who had beady little, shifty eyes, and a long rats tail.
But he didn't look a thing like that at all. She gave him a very exacting look see, and found him to be quite appealing really. He cut a very dapper form in his Air Force dark blue suit, the lighter blue dress shirt, had complimented his eyes, making them sparkle like faceted gemstones. He had a healthy complexion, though it was flushed from the current weather conditions.
His hair was a little long on top, enough so, that he kept having to use his hand to smooth it back. The rain must have washed the moose out of it.
There was something concealed deeper though, that she recognized. He just oozed the demeanor of anyone who'd ever been associated with some special ops organization. They don't mean to act a certain way, and it's nothing you could put your finger on.
It's just that they have some unexplainable essence that reeks of special ops. She'd bet her stack of highlighters, double or nothing, that she was right.
"We need money, dry clothes & someplace to spend the night." Jamesy grumbled, "The American Currency we have is useless & the Lira we have won't be worth anything here either."
"Wait a minute.." Karl said, "That's not necessarily so..isn't that Off World Lira made out of gold? Doesn't matter where it's from, Gold is always worth something, they can just melt it down..we just need find someone who can tell us where a bank is."
So far the only person who had any clothes was Jamesy, and that was only because he'd liberated them from the clothing trunk that was on the back of a parked carriage, and a coat from the inside, when the cabbie had popped off for a quick tankard of ale.
A man in a bowler hat hurried down the street, brushing into Janis, giving her a push to the side, as he hurried on his business.
Some unfortunate women looking for clients strolled down Thrawl Street, singing a loud song, off key.
The team had finally found the right corner to turn, and were starting to come across more people. Turning the corner, they were starting to get odd looks and propositions from various people they also saw the carts of the people who'd decided to stick out the rain, in the hopes of peddling their wares to someone.
"Did you gents say Gold? Ginger here can show you a real good time at the Britannia..if you'll buy us some bangers and mash an a few pints." The 5' 7'' Blonde, with blue eyes & a fair complexion propositioned them.
She looked to be about 25 yrs old, stout for her profession, which meant she was either in high demand, or that she'd only recently chosen it.
She had a clean, though damp from the rain, linsey frock on, and a red shawl pulled round her shoulders. Her hair was drenched though, because she didn't have a hat on.
The team didn't stop walking, with nothing better to do the native woman followed along, hoping for the prospect of paying customers. And these strange people with the foreign accents looked like some theater people she'd once entertained. She only knew of two kinds of Theater People, those who had a good night and who were loaded looking for ways to fritter away their schillings, and those that were flat broke, but she'd over heard them say they had gold and she desperately wanted some.
She suddenly lost interest and ran ahead, stopping at Flower and Dean Street, where she ran into an acquaintance, "Mr. Hutchinson, can you lend me sixpence?"
"I can't, I spent all my money going down to Romford." he said as he walked away in the other direction, hoping she didn't press him further.
"Good morning to you then...I must go and find some money." She then sauntered back towards the Team, walking up to whomever she thought the most susceptible to her wiles.
Which of course happened to be poor, unfortunate Jamesy.
Janis supposed it was because he looked the most normal to her standards, because he was dressed in a the fashion of a regular Jim Dandy of her day.
"Come to think of it," Jamesy cleared his throat, taking the initiative, "You could help us Ginger, it seems someone's absconded with our clothing.. My Wife & our friends are in dire need of warm, dry cloths. We are also terribly famished, and are in need of immediate accommodations...Do you believe you might be able to accomplish all of those things? We could pay you handsomely in gold."
"Wha? Not all of ya's..but I su'pose I know a place...if you was to pass me some of them gold coins. I've even got some fine dresses your lady friends could own..for a price I could even fex up your gentlemen friends." She offered. She was so desperate for money, it was palpable.
Dorian could see that Hutchinson character standing under a street light outside of the Queens Head Public House watching them. And further down the lane, swathed in the ever present fog, he could barely make out the form of a caped person, who was watching them all with a keen interest.
Jamesy, put his hand reassuringly on Ginger's shoulder, and showed her the few golden lira in his palm, "A few of these and we have a deal..show us the clothing first."
Ginger laughed, merrily, imagining herself paying rent for a months & being able to afford the new hats she had her eyes on. "All right."
"You will be all right for what I have told you?" Jamesy smiled, and Ginger nodded willing to do nearly anything for the other gold coins Jamesy had implied she would receive for assisting them. It was the easiet money she'd made in months, and would make her winter.
Ginger motioned to the others, "This way." she steered them up and down the winding paths, that seemed to be an entirely different planet for people used to modern conveniences of Satellite Positioning, weaving their path to Dorset Street.
The team still stuck out like sore thumbs, they had to get changes of clothing, and fast, or they were going to be even worse off in the daylight, when people could make out what they were wearing.
The only good thing, was that they had been able to break down the medical supplies into individual parcels which they all carried under their arm.
Hutchinson gave Jamesy a serious once over, taking in the Medics dark complexion, heavy dark mustache, that turned up at the corners, dark eyes and bushy eyebrows.
He seemed a little envious over the clothing that Jamesy was able to liberate. Openly admiring his soft felt hat, that was so big, it slid down over Jamesys' eyes & the long dark coat trimmed in astrakhan.
With Gunner's knowledge of period clothing he was able to get the white collar with a black necktie fixed with a horseshoe pin that had been on the mans lapel. She even found him dark spats in the clothing trunk to go slip over Jamseys' boots. So that no one could even tell they weren't from this century.
Jamesys' gold chain looked just perfect dangling from his waistcoat, the large seal with a red stone hanging from it, glittering in the snatches of moon or lamp light.
Kid gloves finished off his picture perfect ensemble, which Jamsey seemed to fancy, even though he carried them in his right hand at the moment, his small satchel under his left arm, and his pack slung over his shoulder.
"Where are we going," Janis leaned over, whispering nervously, "Gunner, you're shaking like a leaf."
They'd stayed further behind Jamesy and Ginger, so that she wouldn't get a very good look at them, and change her mind, because they just looked too weird.
No one'd noticed until Janis, but Gunner'd set her jaw in order to keep her teeth from chattering loudly. She usually didn't have this sort of reaction to peculiar weather temperature shifts, then again, she was usually dressed for the season.
"Ta get clothes an food I think.." Dorian replied. "I hope. To far an dark ta read deir lips betta." He pulled a little silver flask from his pocket & took a slug from it.
"Are you drinking on the job Apollo?" Samuels asked sternly, trying to keep his teeth from chattering, he was feeling the bite of the November air, and the thought of ending soaked to the bone didn't seem to be helping his short temper with the incompetent imbeciles he was stuck with any.
"Nope, but I could go fer a cruller an a cuppa Joe." Dorian shot back, sounding chipper as ever. Just like a Greek God, he didn't even look cold, though everyone could see the November Rain glistening across his bare arms.
"We're at Commercial & turning down Dorset." Samuels said by way of an answer to Janis's question.
"Been here before Samuels?" Gunner asked, breaking her silence, but more to change from the monotony of shivering. "We have company by the way," she inclined her head behind them.
Dorian & Karl stole a peek & could see that nosey Hutchinson following out of curiosity.
"I smell booze." Samuels started again, "demerits for drinking on the job won't look good in your mission report Apollo."
"We juss passed a Pub genius." Dorian shook his head. Duct tape was looking really nice, if not for the pesky Butterfly Effect, he'd conk him and ditch him here. But Janis had crabbed about that whole Grandfather clause and how if they changed something here, it'd mess up there. Or some sort of technical mumbo-jumbo.
Ginger, stopped Jamesy at an arch, that had the words 'Miller's Court' painted across it. They could see them talking back and forth, then Jamesy thrust his hand into his pocket, and gave her something, which turned out to be a golden coin, which she bit, then nodded.
He finally returned to them, "Ok, she's going to wake up the Super, we have to give her nine more gold pieces.." he held out his hand, to them and they all started scrounging in their pockets, "in return she'll get you guys some clothes, and pay the Super for our room rental."
"Did ys men-chin food? Food would be a good idea..we can drink what we squeeze outta our clothes." Dorian griped.
"Highway robbery.." Gunner shook her head. The girl was making a mint, because they were over a barrel & she could tell. "She knows a pawnbroker, or a banker who can get her a good gold exchange for that...tell her to give us some spending cash..and she can have 12."
Everyone but Gunner had chipped in, "Too good to help the Team?" Samuels chided her.
"It's in my other pocket Sir, and I've got my hands full." Gunner explained. It's not that she wouldn't chip in, it's that she couldn't get into her pocket if she wanted too, she had the medical box under her left arm, and that was the wrist she thought might be broken. She just couldn't bend it to fish for any coins.
"We can't wait all day for you to decide," Karl thrust his hand into Gunner's pocket, retrieving the coins, only just now realizing how drenched she was.
She'd been the only one who hadn't complained about their situation, taking all of thier concerns into consideration before her own. She must be absolutely frozen, and was a candidate for bronchitis or walking pneumonia at the very least a horrible cold Karl mused to himself, off handedly commenting, "Good job Morrison."
The others nodded, impressed that Samuels would remember a small bit of praise for someone, who wasn't him. He could tell they thought he seemed rather wrapped up in himself. He could feel himself blushing.
Jamesy returned to Ginger, who'd been waiting by the arch the whole time then pressed the coins into her palm. She took a moment to bite into each one, to make sure it wasn't brass.
"All right, my dear. Come along. You will be comfortable," she smiled beguilingly, her shawl slipping from her shoulder, which Jamesy caught before it fell into the dirty puddle at their feet, slipping it back onto her shoulder.
Ginger mistook his gesture and leaned forward and kissed him, while thrusting her coins into her pocket. She pulled back from the kiss, and remarked, "I've lost my handkerchief."
Feeling grateful that someone could actually help them, Jamesy patted his pockets down, finding a wonderful red handkerchief, which he let her have.
Again she motioned to the team, and they all filed through the tiny archway, Welcome to Millers Court, the fine back parlor to the six beautiful homes that you can only properly view from Dorset Street."
"You'll understand if I don't trust all of you in my home at the same time, so please wait here while I go fetch Mr. McCarthy so he can let you some rooms." Ginger said nearly dancing on the air, she disappeared around the corner of the building.
Janis wondered if maybe someone shouldn't have thought to follow Ginger, because it'd be a real shame if they really did get robbed.
The team stood there taking in their surroundings, Samuels looking as though he'd forgotten something crucial.
Millers Court was partitioned off from the rest of the building, it was entered from a door at the end of the arched passageway. There were six houses in the court, each whitewashed up to the first floor windows.
Janis stopped worrying when she saw Ginger briskly strutting towards them having returned promptly with a pudgy man in tow, who smelled of smoke and liquor. Janis though he was either into heavy drinking, or he ran a bar.
"Mi'sus Kelly, 'ere tells me yew tew blokes wants rooms for a few days." He fixed Jamesy and Karl with a stern glare, as if challenging them to say otherwise.
"Yes, please." Jamesy nodded.
Ginger, disappeared behind Mr. McCarthy, into the first door on the right, for the brief instance the door was open, before she closed it behind herself, they could see a cheap print which read 'The Fisherman's Widow' hanging over the fireplace.
There a total of 3 windows for Ginger's apartment. Directly to the left of the door, was a broken window, which completely creeped Janis out. She couldn't have slept soundly knowing that someone could have just reached in the broken window & unlatched the door. She was deathly afraid of robbers.
Meanwhile Gunner thought it wise, considering Ginger Kelly's occupation for her Land Lord to have let her a room, on the ground floor, where she could come and go as frequently as she liked, without the chance of disturbing the other renters.
"Rite then, 'ere yews are," he reached out a fleshy hand, pressing a key into Jamesy's hand, "Yew an yor filly can go over 'ere." He pointed up the whitewashed wall, and to the corner.
"My brother in law is staying with us sir." Jamesy thought quickly on his feet, giving Dorian a good chuck on the shoulder.
"'onest..I likes that. Very well. Tha free of yew then. Up there. Off yew go. It's late an I've much tew look afta," he cleared his throat.
Gunner was already thinking, she could stay at the local church if need be...unless there was that pesky problem going on with the Reformation..her mind was freezing on her, just about as badly as her clothing was. Something important was nagging at the back of her brain as well. She worried if she didn't put her finger on it soon, she'd get one of her horrible cluster headaches.
"That leaves yew an tha lil laydee tew tha one ova there." The man pressed a key into Samuels hand. "Don't make new-sans-sis of yorselves, or out yew go. I won't tolerate any riff raff shenanigans."
Almost as an afterthought, Samuels, snaked his arm, draping it over Gunners shivering shoulder, feeling her go stiff under his attempt at marital contact, and shooting him a 'what are you doing?' sort of look.
"Oi, she's a cold one." The man said, chuckled to himself, and tottered off.
Once Mr. McCarthy was out of sight, Ginger slipped out of her room, with an armful of rather fine clothing, they wouldn't have expected someone who was usually in her position to be in possession of.
"You'll have to roll the bottom of these so they won't drag in the mud," she said handing what appeared to be a very dark gray suit to Karl. "You'll have to have your 'sister' let the hem out of these," she said flopping a regal blue suit into Dorian's hands. "As for you two fine strumpets. You get this nice lemon dress. Mind you don't lace it too tightly, you'll have a severe case of the vapors." Ginger flopped the dress into Janis' eager hands. "You sound like you're working on a horrible illness..weak constitution eh? Well, this dress will put some colour into your cheeks..mind you don't drag it in the mud either."
"It's chartreuse." Janis giggled.
"Thank you for your help." Gunner said, which seemed to take Ginger completely off guard.
Ginger pressed a tiny vial into Gunners palm and whispered into her ear, "You nice, remind me of my sister, you do. It's Laudanum. You shouldn't put up with his rough ways." Ginger's hand very lightly brushed over her injury.
"You're welcome Miss." Ginger softly replied, stepping back.
Gunner just let the rest of them finish with business, while she went and stood in the dry stairwell, her left cassock cuff was starting to be a little tight. It'd be okay if she could re-wrap it soon.
Though Samuels had broke, or sprang her wrist, she knew it was on accident and she could tell he was capable of many things, but intentionally injuring a team mate, just didn't fall into his code of ethics. He was just a bossy, blow hard, who was desperate to be in control of a situation that was rapidly spinning out of control.
"No, it's not, it's green." Dorian gave Janis a sidelong look, playing dumb for a laugh.
Ginger fell for it, and with a chuckle in her voice, told him, "It is a sort of green." She gave the last suit of clothes, that were in a rich purple, to Jamesy. "That ones for your Gov."
"Mr. McCarthy will bring you up some food & water. I've got to go now." Ginger made to leave but Jamesy followed her to the arch of Millers Court.
"One more thing, Mrs. Kelly..." Jamesy pressed.
"Ginger luv." she winked.
"Yes, Ginger. We need spending cash, as we've only foreign currency..." Jamesy continued, only to be interrupted again.
"Yes, of course..stop by my room tomorrow, then I'll be able to help you. Right now I've really got to get something to drink. I'm absolutely parched. Unless you're treating," she winked at him, not getting too close, so as not to upset Janis, who she thought was his wife, "I really must leave."
"No, I'm very tired..thank you..I'll call on you again, when it's morning." Jamesy let it go, she was obviously in great need for a drink. And he didn't think it was going to be milk. Not to mention, the way she was eyeing him was making him feel like a meal ticket on feet.
*******CHAPTER EIGHT: You Sleep On The Couch..What Couch?
They were on the third floor, of the three story building.
Dorian, Jamesy & Janis walked into the room, he used his lighter to illuminate the room enough to see what was there. Finding what he was looking for, he then used it to light the Hurricane lamps wick. Soon as thier eyes grew accustomed to the light, they took in their surroundings.
Roaches skittered across the floorboards, Dorian's foot came down on two with a definite crunch.
Janis winced, "I want to go home."
Each room was approximately 12 feet square, with a cheap print over the fireplace. Which was McCarthy's only attempt at making the space seem homey. But they were so cheap it actually made the place seem homely.
The only drawback was that neither room had any firewood, or coal to burn. Granted it was much warmer here, because heat does rise, but it was still a chilly November night. The only up side was they didn't have to deal with the chilling wind, that howled up and down the cobblestone streets like a banshee, anymore.
Each room had two grimy windows, that you didn't want to clean, because all there was to see was the grimy windows across the alley, or the working girls bringing gentleman callers home from the local pubs.
'Headlice..we're all going to catch headlice...I just know it.' Karl mumbled to himself, going over and grabbing the mattress that was leaning against the wall. He wasn't a neat freak, but right about now, he'd kill for a can of disinfectant spray.
Two wobbly oak tables & a rickety pine chair, made up the rest of the rooms sparse furnishings.
They'd fetch a pretty penny if Gunner was to find a Shabby Chic buyer..but of course, that'd mean she'd have to lug the stupid table through the Stargate to 2004..and right now, she didn't know where the heck it was. The Stargate..not the Buyer.
There was a knock on the door, Karl answered it, his hand on the butt of his gun "Yes?" The two candle flames flickering in the fireplace. There used to be only one candle, but Karl'd found it by slipping on it, breaking it in half in the process.
"Landlord Mr.." Mr. McCarthy waited, they could hear him tapping his foot.
"Karl Samuels." Karl replied, seeing no reason to concoct an undercover name, Grandfather Clause or no, his family was of German decent, he couldn't change any future timeline here.
"Open tha door, I've brought yor refreshments, my 'ands are full." Gunner opened the door, elbowing Samuels aside to admit their Landlord.
He had what looked to be a broom handle over his shoulders, that had four buckets on it, and two baskets.
"Wash water 'ere." He said tilting his head first in one direction, then the other "Ale 'ere...an food 'ere."
"Here let me give you a hand." Gunner, reached forward, Samuels stomach grumbled, she turned her head and tried to stifle a sneeze, but ended up squeaking a few times in succession. Then they both carefully took a pail from each end of the stick, Samuels going for the stocked basket.
"Yor cold as deaff Mi'sus Sa-mules." McCarthy jumped as her hand skimmed over his fingertips as she one handedly took the pail from him trying carefully not to slosh any contents on the floor.
"Who?.." She stopped herself, "'d have guessed my gloves were going to be nicked." She lugged the one to the table, setting it down, then walked over to Samuels and took his, placing it with the other, then returning to his side standing demurely behind Samuels, her hand on his hip as she peered around him, waiting for him to get rid of the Landlord.
"I"m sure our companions will be eager for their refreshments as well." Samuels placed his hand over hers. "God you are freezing." He looked at her as if he hadn't realized exactly how wet she was. She withdrew her hand self-consciously, covering her mouth and sneezed again.
Sensing a marital argument about to ensue, McCarthy withdrew himself, from the room, and waddled his wares over to the other half of thier teams room. Leaving Samuels to shut the door, and twist the key in the lock.
*******CHAPTER NINE: You're Place Or Mine?
To the right of each door was a bedside table, placed so close to it, that if you opened the door too fast, you'd smack into it. From the chips on the corner and the little ruts in the wood, one could see that's exactly what'd happened.
Next to the table was a bed with the head against the door wall, its side against the right wall. The only good thing, was it was a good old fashioned big brass bed, Jamesy was sure they could conserve heat, by all cramming themselves onto the same bed and said so.
Opposite each fireplace was a small cupboard which contained cheap crockery & empty bottles.
"Ah Cozy City Life in da Kooky 1888s...If ya wanna go home Doc, ya'd better figure out what happened & how ta fix it." Dorian didn't sound harsh, but then again he also didn't sound very comforting.
He was mostly feeling relieved he didn't have to bunk with weasley Samuels. But he'd go knock on their door & ask for space on the floor with their roaches if all his roommate was going to do was whine & voice the exact same sentiments on everyone else's mind.
He opened a window, for Jamesy & him to stick their mattress out the window & shake the heck out of it, both of them hoping that would dislodge any insects. "Wa woodn't see dat in New Yawk...ya know, a joint on da tird floor wit winda's dat could open dis far."
They heard a cat screech thru the paper thin walls, of the next room, and heard either Gunner or Samuels give a small whimpery screech, then a manly, conceited, "It's just a cat..no need for girlie theatrics."
There was the sound of a hard slap, & Gunner's voice thick with sarcasm, "It wasn't 'me' who screamed 'Sir.'"
There was a knock at their door, & Dorian went to answer it, "Uhoh, he got on her noives, guess one a use gotta bunk wit Weasle boy."
"Shh!" Jamesy stopped Dorian, whispering, "What if it's not her? Don't Talk you sound like a New York Cabbie."
"Oh, I gotcha chief." Dorian understood instantly, stepping back, sitting on a chair.
"Who is it?" Jamesy inquired.
"McCarthy," but he didn't have to say more, because, Jamesy opened the door for the man.
"Wonderful. Please do come in good man, use the table." Jamesy sounded like he'd lived the life of a kept man and was used to servants.
Jamesy looked in the pails.."Wonderful, Water, Brew &," He propped open the basket, "bread, Cheese & Eggs...just splendid." He put his arm around McCarthy's shoulder, effectively wheeling him around, and steering him towards, then out the room door.
"There's salt pork in there as well." McCarthy commented. "An sausages."
"Yes, yes..my wife will be able to make a fine feast..Thank you for your troubles so late at night to..we're much obliged. We'll see you another time. My wife is ready to retire, she's exhausted from the trip..you know their weak constitutions." Jamesy remarked.
The man nodded then went off, leaving them. To themselves.
"Weak Constitution?" Janis was incredulous. "What a load of bunk. Where are you getting this stuff Jamesy? You'd think 'you' got bonked on the head, not me."
Dorian chuckled. It was out of vogue, but he was a card carrying sexist, and proud of it. The only women he knew who could hold their own, were his sisters, his wives, the deceased Mrs. Apollo, and his current bride who was Very much alive, and going to be really ticked off if he wasn't home for Lasagna Wednesday night, his daughter and the woman in the next room..who seemed to be having a sneezing jag.
'Dickens..I read a lot of Charles Dickens." Jamesys voice thick with apology. "I'm just talking like a Dickens character. Not that I really think you're the weaker sex, for crying out loud."
Jamesy paced back and forth nervously, drinking out of his canteen. "What are we going to do Janis. I don't think the two in the other room know anything technical at all." He wrung his hands. "I hear the Chaplain is so inept with technological things, she won't even use them. She still uses an old fashioned type writer for reports..her secretary has to scan them for her...heck she won't even use a digital camera. Have you seen that archaic Kodak she lugs around with her? We're lucky she's not chiseling junk out of stone."
"Do you know anything useful," He turned to Dorian, expectantly. Sort of hoping he wasn't a pretty boy, lug head. ' "Corn an cotton ah native ta Nort Amer'ca." Dorian said with a straight face.
Jamesy shook his head incredulously, laughed nervously, but what Janis thought sounded a little manic. Dorian pulled out his flask & gulped another pull, capped it and stuffed it back into his coat pocket.
The three of them managed to get out of their drenched clothing & changed into warm things from their packs, even managing to find some thermal blankets in their medic packs.
They placed the blanket on the mattress, silver side up, then piled in, Dorian against the wall, then Janis who let herself be sandwiched between him & Jamesy.
Over the top, they placed the two blankets, with the shinny silver facing towards themselves.
"Sing me a lullaby Mommy." Dorian said in a tiny voice.
Janis laughed, Jamesy shook his head, "You'd better not hog the blankets Apollo."
"An you'd better not snore.." Dorian replied lightheartedly, "I got duct tape wit yer name on it Mister."
"I miss my cat." Janis sighed.
"I know what you mean..I miss my dog. At least he has better smelling breath. Turn over Apollo, you reek of pink antacid." Jamesy complained.
"Man..I missed my wife, before I even walked through the gate, but right now I wish she was here." Dorian said as he rolled over, to face the wall.
"That's so romantic." Janis gushed. Dorian thought Janis wouldn't think it was so romantic, if she knew why he wished she was there.
*******CHAPTER TEN: Trying To Kindle A Fire..no really in the Fireplace...
Gunner had been considering the most tactful way of asking Samuels to leave the room, so she could change, but forgot what she was thinking when she heard a loud snapping sound behind her.
Spinning on her heels, she saw him breaking apart the wobbly table, that didn't have their food on it.
"Have you gone dotty? What are you doing?" Gunner saw the resale value, dwindle then finally diminish entirely, while Samuels busted the table to pieces.
She'd seen people loose their faculties under immensely stressful situations. But she'd hardly thought Samuels the violent type. She'd heard of his cowardly actions but had chose to refrain from commenting on them. It wasn't her place. But she did on the other hand, try to make sure she wouldn't be in any situations where she'd have to worry about his reliability at covering her 6. She sneezed again.
"Kindling. Until we can get our hands on something else. I saw some things that might burn," he'd got the table upside down on the floor and was standing on it, looking sort of like the fella who had to man the rutter on a boat. "In the hall on the way up. We just have to snag them when no one's looking." He grabbed hold of the table leg and snapped it like a crab leg. The sound was gruesome.
He had a point. She felt queasy, the table was antique and he was tearing it apart like some horrific Mothra on a rampage through innocent Tokyo. But she was so cold, she didn't want to dwell on it long.
"I'll go see what I can sneak in." she replied, feeling guilty as she snuck out of the door & down the hall.
'This is George's neck..this is his arm...and a leg..yeah a leg..' Karl mumbled when he was alone in the room, ripping the table to pieces with his bare hands.
'he's so high on my to be demoted list...' He started to gather the pieces & dump them into the fireplace.
The drunken sounds of a woman singing somewhere in the building echoed thru the halls, as well as a few disgruntled 'Stuff it you Sauced Cows!'
"Pardon?" Gunner, was so stealthily, she'd returned, loaded down with a ladder she found at the end of the hallway, and though Samuels was talking to her.
"Nothing." He said over his shoulder, hoping she wouldn't press the issue.
"K..I'll be right back," she disappeared like a shadow thru the door again, she'd recalled seeing a stack of papers in a doorway about a block or so away from here. And she wouldn't feel guilty swiping them to burn, whereas she'd feel like Hades warmed over if Samuels hacked apart anymore antique furniture. It just seemed wrong. Like desecrating a burial ground from their past.
*******CHAPTER ELEVEN: While The Mouse Is Away
He saw her notebook on the table, pulled out a couple of pages, crumbling them up in his fist, then stuffed them under the wood. Using his lucky zippo, he torched them, carefully tending the fire into what he hoped would be a nice crackling blaze.
The fire actually lit up the room nicely enough for him to see what it looked like. He'd been in worse dives. With nothing better to do, he treated the water, and looked at the notebook he still had in his hand.
Out of being too nosey for his own good, he flipped it open, most of it was in a code he never saw before. Her penmanship was neat, she pushed hard enough on her pen or pencil to leave marks on the page below it. He flipped through, and saw very nicely done sketches of whatever it was he imagined she was working on, and a few things that must have been done in her free time because she was bored.
One of the miniature sketches was of George at a lecture..his eyes darted about the room, he sneezed, and ripped the page out of the book and chucked it into the fireplace, enjoying watching it turn to ash.
The blaze felt nice. The chill was gone from the room. He went over to her pack, and opened it. Carefully lifting things, trying not to really disturb them, but find out more about the stranger he had to share a room with.
Her clothing was in tight military rolls, as was some strange kit, that he didn't open, for fear of not having enough time to put it back in enough time when she came back to the room.
She had a personal kit that was stocked with things a woman usually carried, but he noticed the lack of the usual make up kit. The only gender defining items he came across were embarrassing personal products which he crammed back into their compartment as if they might give him a bad case of poison oak. And a bottle of that sweet smelling perfume she always seemed to exude. A razor, And a bottle of clear nail polish.
She was an enigma, he'd found out next to nothing. He wished he'd had prior knowledge of this mission and his team mates. He'd liked to have actually been able to do personnel checks on them. It was getting late, he packed everything back up, and put her pack where she'd dropped it.
He looked at his watch, thinking that she should be back by now. He snuck out of his room, listened at the other team members door. He wouldn't put it past her to have a preconceived low opinion of him as well, and to treat him like a pariah, leaving him by himself to be with her comrades.
The concept, really ground on his nerves. He wasn't a bad guy, he just panicked in one lousy moment of weakness, but it seemed that everyone and their sister, not only knew what happened, but still held it against him.
'ah who needs them. I'll be fine, dry & warm, by myself.' He thought.
Then he felt momentarily guilty. What if she was on the first floor, trying to carry something that was too heavy..or someone was giving her a problem. That McCarthy did say, that she & that female Medic shouldn't be allowed to wander about alone, it wasn't very safe. And she was sort of on the small side.
That was an understatement, she was 5' tall. She'd look like a helpless child in the inky fog to a mugger.
He crept down the stairs, and heard the sound of laughing people coming towards him, so he retreated up the stairs, just in the nick of time, for them to not see him at all.
He saw a woman, going with a man into her room. They looked far to amorous to be married. He waited until he was sure they weren't coming out, then continued his decent to the first floor, where someone had their furniture in the hall. Obviously being evicted.
This was the fire wood he was talking about, but how come she wasn't here? He chided himself for believing just because she was a pretty Chaplain, that she'd actually come back like she said she would.
She was probably just pretending to be cold, and happy to have ditched him. Who needs to look after some shivering imbecile, what's good had she done him so far? he thought bitterly.
He glanced first into one, then the other direction. Seeing the coast was clear, he crept over to the furniture then stacked one chair on the other, with a trunk and a foot stool on top of both, then lugged his cumbersome assortment of kindling up to his room. Finally setting it down where the table had been, before it was converted to kindling.
He used one of the table legs like a poker, to stoke the fire. Locked the door using the key, undressed, and changed into his jogging suit he had in his pack.
He pulled his thermos out of the pack, and used the cup on the lid, dipping it into the yeasty ale, and sipping it. It was definitely very hearty, and even with more in the pail, he didn't feel it was Miller Time.
He tried not to be disappointed by the fact that she wasn't waiting for him, worried about where he'd gotten himself off to, when he got back to the room. He'd secretly hoped that she would be as concerned over his where abouts, as he begrudgingly was over hers.He really didn't want to be stranded in a strange time & place all by himself.
*******CHAPTER TWELVE: You Have Now Entered A Dimension of Slight & Zounds
He wouldn't be surprised if Rod Sterling walked through the door at any moment, and was worried that when he fell asleep, once he woke, he'd find himself in some Victorian Institution getting a lobotomy for imagining was a Time Traveler and really belonged in the Future.
He was thinking more along the lines of those morbid thoughts, when the door knob turned, and there was the sound of someone pushing on it, followed by some strange scratching sound.
Karl's hand went instinctively to his gun, but he waited in a breathless anticipation of something horrible. His heart was pounding so hard, he could feel the blood rushing in his ears. If it was Rod he was definitely going to shoot him before his fate sealing exposition.
The door slowly swung open, and he drew a bead for where Rod's chest level should be.
He still had it pointed when Gunner pushed it closed behind herself, using what looked to be a set of lock picks to re-lock the door, a stack of papers in her arms. She jumped, seeing Samuels ready to shoot her between the eyes, dropping the papers, that fanned out around her feet on the floor.
"You're a spaz." she said nervously, her teeth chattering from the obvious cold.
"Pop back to 2004 for the Cheyenne Telegraph?" was his sarcastic comment, he lowered the gun, snapping the safety back into place.
She smiled, and giggled at his joke, "No, I just remembered seeing a stack of them in a doorway around the corner..so I liberated them."
"Are you an imbecile?" He strode towards her angrily.
'That's it, he's flipped his lid, I'm going to find a church pew.' she thought to herself.
He put his hands on her shoulders giving her a shake, "Didn't you hear McCarthy say that you girls weren't supposed to be out by yourselves at night?" He was so relieved to see he wouldn't be alone, he didn't know if he should hug her or shake her again for being impulsive.
"Whoa there cowboy," she pushed his hand away, he let go of her shoulders, bent down and grabbed up papers, setting them on the nightstand.
The fire looked inviting, Gunner thought maybe his rank wasn't out of a crackerjack box after all. She walked towards it, gratefully sinking to her knees in front of it, holding her hands as near to the flames as she dared.
"I wish we had s'mores." she turned & smiled at him. Either he hadn't conveyed his dissatisfaction with her traipsing around unescorted, or the lack of oxygen to her brain from when he landed on her earlier was starting to affect her thinking.
She let out an earthy moan, "I can feel my fingers again. This is nice..thank you for starting the fire while I was out. Could you please bring me my pack." She pointed at the pack he'd just rifled through.
He brought it over to her, knelt on one knee leaning towards the fireplace adding more wood and stoking it more.
Her fingers fumbled with the zipper, "Let me..." he offered, taking it from her before she could accept his help, or decline it.
Once it opened, he was struck by the scent of Jasmine & Honeysuckle again, because he hadn't tightened the cap tight enough. Which gave him the feeling that he'd just opened the wrong dryer at the Laundromat. He thrust it back at her suddenly.
She twisted the cap. "Just oil, no harm done. caught it just in time."
She pulled a thin cotton cassock out, and was once again, wondering how best to broach the subject of him going to the hall or something, when he interrupted, "You're not going to wear that are you? No wonder your so cold. It's flimsy, not suited for this weather at all."
The clothing sense of women always floored him. They'd go out on hikes in heels, and skirts, then wonder why they got mud on their hose and blouses, if they skid down an incline.
"I'd have brought my woolen cassock," she smiled, "if I'd realized we were coming somewhere, where it was winter. But as it stands, I packed for a trip to a warm, Mediterranean-like place you arrogant, pompous, tyrannical bully."
The way she smiled so sweetly at him, didn't prepare him for her unexpected commentary on his attitude.
That was all she needed, she pointed to the door, plainly saying, "out," He nearly started to protest, his face flushing, as he started to get angry, "in the hall, you can come back in 10 minutes..I have to change, before I get walking pneumonia."
He'd never married, just so he'd never have to be 'kicked' out of a room, and now it was happening to him anyways. "I'm only going to be civil, Not because I have to."
It even sounded weak to him, as he reached the door, turning the knob, but it wouldn't open, then he remembered the key, used it, and went into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him.
He paced the hall. Then decided he may as well try one last trip for firewood. Who knew how long they'd be stuck here. And he for one, didn't intend on freezing. He crept down the hall and grabbed a desk.
By the time, he got back to the room, his find in his arms, she was sitting in the exact same place, but had obviously changed, because her wet clothing was hanging over the back of two chairs, & she was pulling a comb through, the longest hair he'd ever seen. It was like one of those magic scarf tricks, easily it could reach the top of her thigh if she was standing.
She was doing it in little sections, parting it, starting at the bottom, then working her way to her scalp, then placing it over her right shoulder, and starting on a new portion of it. It shined like his favorite pair of dress shoes after they got a spit shine.
Her simple actions were oddly comforting, they seemed to make sense. She seemed peaceful, and calm in a way that made him slightly envious. Maybe he could make her tell him her secret. He shook his head to clear it, and finally put the desk down.
"Do what you have to do Samuels, but please for the love of God, don't break anymore antiques in front of me. I don't think I could bear it." She said as she turned to look at him.
"You're joking, right?" He asked.
"I'm an Archaeologist, that helps the local Museum on my time off." she confessed.
She watched the flames dance, "This mission is disturbing me. This is the sort of thing where you can leave messages about The Trail of Tears, The Holocaust. We could find Tutankamon before Howard Carter." She shook, "We could revolutionize medicine. Airplanes, The Space Shuttle..."
She shivered, putting her comb down on the floor, and her hand to her forehead, "I could see things that don't exist anymore, or aren't accessible to people in 2004..and part of me wants too, really badly." She shook her head. "But we can't, it'd wrong. That whole stopping horrible things in history. Not seeing things before Howard."
Even though she was now in dry clothes, he could tell that being wet for so long had chilled her to the bone, he tugged his sweatshirt off over his head, dropping it into her lap, as he went and pulled out his other one from his pack. "Put it on, it will help." She gave him a wary glance, "That's an order."
She didn't need to be told twice, so she slid it on and giggled when she stood, turning towards him, then quickly away, as he pulled his last sweatshirt over his head.
The light from the fireplace, illuminated her outline. His sweatshirt was so big she sort of swam in it. The ribbed bottom, slid down her hips, over her cassock, like a mini sweater dress.
Holding her arms out to her sides, his sleeves sagged down over her hands, she only pulled the right one up to her wrist freeing up the use of her hand.
She grasped a mug of warmed ale, and drank a sip, grimacing, then shuddering, "Smooth...vitamins & nutrients or no, I can't drink this," she offered him the cup.
His cup he realized.
She didn't have the heart to tell him that Dorian & She were the same rank as he was, so she didn't have to take orders from him. But the cotton jersey sweatshirt felt nice and warm in her hands, and she didn't want to belittle his gesture.
She saw him, now and then briskly traipsing down the SGA halls, usually in a heated debate with George, who usually looked like he wish Samuels were made of disappearing ink, that he wished would evaporate soon.
She also, paid quite a bit of attention to him on this mission. She wanted to know what sort of person he was. And found him diplomatic in that brusque 'I Know What's Best' sense, not because he was genuinely invested in his team mates. He just didn't seem the sort to put himself out for strangers. Not that it made him entirely selfish or anything.
Just in the sense that it was apparent he didn't believe anyone would go out of their way for him, so he was sparing his feelings by distancing himself from the rest of his team mates.
Oh, and his strange superiority complex, that people who were insecure usually adopted, when dealing with others. She could tell he was used to giving orders, and having underlings scramble to get them done. He didn't really seem to comprehend the whole idea behind 'team'.
The sooner he cooperated with them, the less friction there would be. Of course there was a chain of command. But she and Dorian had learned their first mission out. Chain of Command shifts, depending on the objective. It doesn't matter if Sam Carter was in charge on an Off World Mission. Once they arrived at their destination, if they had to decipher Nox letters. That put the Linguist in charge. Conversely if a Doctor was in charge, if there was combat going to be needed the focus fell on the soldiers in their group. It just wasn't about ego.
She only realized stopped looking at the inviting flames and was scrutinizing him until she heard him self consciously ask, "What are you looking at?"
"You." She replied simply. He wasn't horrible looking. Certainly not weasley and cowardly like she'd been lead to believe. But then again Dorian really did spread it on thick.
If Dorian liked you, he nicknamed you something cute. Didn't matter if you were a male or female. You got dubbed "Slim", "Red", "Doll", "Hon".
You could fare worse if he didn't like you. Because your nickname wouldn't sound horrible, usually. It'd still sound cutesy. Like the time he called some woman "Macy" because all she did was shop. Or the time he dubbed some guy "Fly Boy", and it wasn't because he was impressed with his aerial skills.
Right now, he seemed stuck on calling Samuels 'Weasel', which really worried Gunner. Mostly because he was bound to slip and call him that to his face, and then it would really hit the fan. And she just might burst into a giggle fit. After all, he wasn't calling her Weasel.
Mostly she was concerned though, because she couldn't think of something particularly nice about a weasel that anyone would believe, and she knew Samuels was going to be insulted, he didn't seem to have a very healthy sense of humor.
That, and she didn't think Samuels actually looked anything like a weasel at all. He didn't even seem to act like one as far as she was concerned.
Lt. Col. Karl Samuels had honeyed medium brown hair, that he kept in a short, modern military cut, probably all the time, as she didn't think he'd have had enough time to get in to the barber before his, from what she could gather, impromptu Mission assignment.
He didn't have excess nose, or ear hairs, nor that unfortunate malady some men suffer, known as the unibrow.
His ears were a good size, not satellite dishes, that could beam messages to the Asgard.
He had a classical Roman nose. In good proportion to the rest of his face. Pleasant lips, a well shaped, manly jaw line, and decent cheekbones for a guy.
He wasn't too tall, compared to other men on the base, and had a decent body fat to muscle tone ratio.
"Don't think I started the fire, or gave you my sweatshirt for you. I had entirely selfish motives..'I' was cold, and 'I' plan on getting back home, and I'll probably need every single one of you to do whatever the heck it is you do, in order to do that." Samuels seemed to be saying that aloud to convince her, but she just smiled and nodded, accepting his comments at face value.
Karl expected her temper to flare, and readied himself to either have his cup whipped at him, or for her to slap him again..she had a very nasty slapping habit, for a supposed pacifist.
He wouldn't have thought someone so diminutive, with such dainty hands, would have been able to nearly sent him reeling with just a slap.
"Yes..of course." She pet him on the hand, and looked deeply into his eyes.
"Are you being condescending?" he brushed her hand away testily, 'Will you stop doing that?"
"Doing what?" she asked, innocently, truly not comprehending.
"Staring at me..it's..unsettling...just what are you looking at?"
"The Oriental, believe that the head is the seat of a persons soul." Gunner said pushing a strand of his hair, that had started out, slicked back with gel, out of his face with her right hand, and looking into his eyes, 'The Greeks, held that a mans eyes were the mirror of his soul."
She smiled, that peculiarly beguiling smile of hers again, that make him feel like confessing things to her. He could see why she was such an effective Chaplain.
She sighed and cocked her head to the side, "You're misunderstood, but I believe you're just waiting for the chance, to make up for lost opportunities, and that you'll come through this crisis a new person." Her voice was soft, the flicker of the fire in the fireplace, was nearly hypnotic, he almost believed her. She sounded like an ancient Greek Oracle.
"I..I think you put too much into your Theological mumbo jumbo Gun..look..I'm supposed to be your husband, for when others are around..I can't go around calling you Gunner." He said trying to change the subject, feeling an unexpected flush making his face burn. "No one in 1888 will believe that's your name. I need to call you something else."
He'd half expected her to protest, but he could see her think it over, and she must have agreed with him, because she, nodded, "Fair enough..Lazaria."
"That was fast, sounds much nicer than Gertrude or Beneficent." Karl was impressed with her quick decision. "How'd you come up with it? Not your ordinary Elisabeth or Sarah."
"I thought of it so quickly, because it's actually my first name..and yes I don't think I'd have used either of those others as cover names." She yawned, shivering again.
*******CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Bewitching Hour
"We need to turn in." Karl said.
"You can have the bed, I can sleep in the chair. I'm smaller." She offered, to his surprise.
Between the throbbing pain in her wrist, and the cluster headache that she'd get whenever something nagged her subconscious, Gunner could say she was truly having a bad century.
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth..it had to do with the century. She just needed to rifle through her memory to figure out what she was missing.
What would she do if she was Dr. Samuel Beckett..she rolled her eyes at her own silliness, 'I'd call the script writer and tell them, to write me back into my own timeline, that's what I do.'
She'd sneak back up on what she was missing, by concentrating on not being cold still.
"Well, I'm cold too, I was thinking, we'd use both the thermal blankets and share the bed...toconservewarmth." he added in a rush, it only took a moment for her to think his proposition over, she slowly nodded.
The rain beat down relentlessly onto the grimy windowpanes, and the sounds of that woman singing carried through the room again.
"I wish someone would shut that woman up." He grumbled.
"You're not much of a music fan are you Samuels?" she asked, as he set the bed up.
"I like music just fine, I just don't like it when I need to fall asleep." He conceded. "And she won't stop singing the same tune..she's so drunk she's singing it off tune."
"fyi, that woman singing is Ginger..I heard her entertaining a friend." Gunner said, as she let him get onto the bed first, then reluctantly joined him, happy that she finally did though because he was a regular furnace.
She quietly said her nightly prayers, and got interrupted, when he asked her, 'What are you doing?"
".ther above, grant your benevolent graces upon our team, and help us return safely home, once we've seen to whatever it is you've brought us here to accomplish..Amen." she finished loud enough for him to hear.
"Oh, sorry for interrupting." he said sheepishly. He had to keep reminding himself she was one of the base chaplains.
"It's okay. Thank you for the loan of your shirt..sweet dreams Sir." She turned onto her side, in a semi fetal position, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
*******CHAPTER FIFTEEN: To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
Jamesy woke on and off throughout the night, to get a drink of water, have some bread as he paced and thought.
They weren't SG-1, who were a base legend in their own time. What they needed was a stroke of good fortune.
He looked over to the bed. Janis had rolled over on her stomach, and was hogging most of his portion of the bed, Apollo had eerily not budged an inch, he was still stoically facing the wall on his side. For being such a big guy, he didn't seem to be taking up that much room. Jamesy wished he had a tape recorder, the knuckle head was snoring, right about now he wished Apollo's wife was here too, because that might mean he could be home in bed & she'd have to put up with his strange sense of humor.
He felt his eyelids droop again, time for some more shuteye. He pulled up a chair to the side of the bed, plopped down in it, propped his feet on the only section Janis, the Bed Hog wasn't sprawled across, and drifted off to sleep thinking of different scenarios, and what sort of things he wanted to do tomorrow...
'm'ebe make sure to send myself the list of Nobel Winners, so I can finally win an office bet...' was the last thing that ran through his mind.
*******CHAPTER SIXTEEN: And The Little One Said..Roll Over
Karl wasn't used to sharing his bed with anyone. Being a hard-nosed Lt. Col, who was married to his career of social climbing and backstabbing, didn't really make him very well suited as Husband or Dad of the year. But of course that's not what he was dreaming.
He was dreaming about court-martialing George for sending him on this forsaken mission. Maybe court-martialing wasn't exactly the right word, he, and the others on the mission were judge, jury & executioners..
'Should we have him shot, hanged or guillotined?" He turned, thinking himself rather diplomatic, giving the others a chance to decide.
Apollo spoke first, "Guillotined, with a rusty blade." Everyone considered this option.
"Karl, show some mercy, where's your compassion." George sniveled. It was his dream, and he decided that George was the coward, facing his ultimate demise.
"Don't be yellow bellied," Jamesy voiced Karl's opinion, the others nodded like puppets, he frowned..he felt cheated that they seemed too comical.
"Hanged. Let's watch him dance like a plucked bald Thanksgiving Turkey." Janis suggested gleefully.
"Ew..those are horrible ideas." Gunner said shaking her head, in disapproval. "That's no way to treat the General."
"You like him better." Karl looked at her accusingly.
"I'm against the death penalty, even for him." She crossed her arms and walked away.
"He stranded us in Victorian England, The guy couldn't even see fit to get us lost in the States. And you want to quibble over semantics?" Karl looked at her reproachfully, pushing the handcuffed George into Apollo, who showed the others some Tae Kwan Do moves with George as his unwilling partner.
Her lack of understanding of his situation really grated on his nerves, she was being entirely unreasonable. He walked over to her. "I'll take your vote as a humane hail of bullets."
She spun on her heels and slapped, him. Was there No Justice? Even in his dreams she got so perturbed with him, she slapped him...there was definitely something wrong, and it made his insides twist.
"Don't be a fool Sir. Don't kill the man, if you want revenge. Just exile him to 1888." She rolled her eyes, because the solution was so simple he should have thought of it himself.
He smiled and murmured in his sleep. "You're brilliant Lazaria..just brilliant." And wrapped his arms round her, hugging her, he was so pleased that she not only understood, but wanted to see something unspeakable happen to George as well.
He was fine until she put her hand on his inseam...that was strange even for a dream.
The scent of jasmine and honeysuckle filled his nostrils, the dream faded and he realized it was something real. He'd forgotten where he was for a split second, in the dark room, the fire had burned down, and was barely letting off any light at all, and he felt something soft, warm, and definitely breathing leaning against his chest, arm draped around him, resting on his inseam.
He grabbed the hand in one swift motion. The intruder didn't budge. The breathing was steady and rhythmic, he pushed the tiny hand to the side. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath.
He went to move, but realized he was precariously pinned, he slowly recalled that he was still off world, and he was sharing the bed for warmth. But she'd obviously in her sleep, crept much closer than either of them would have ever been comfortable with in their waking hours.
To be quite honest, she was cuddled to him, draped across his chest, peaceful as a lamb. The scent was coming from her hair, which he experimentally brushed away from his cheek. He was used to the smells of the guys barracks, or clean sheets, not some woman's fancy perfume..and it was making him feel..odd.
He pulled on his arm slightly, and she turned over, still using his forearm like a pillow, her back to him. 'I know she's stretching my sweatshirt,' he thought to himself. He stared at the ceiling for a while, Ginger had started singing that song again. He'd never forget it the rest of his days. How could he, she was like a broken record. He rolled over on his side, spooning Lazaria, the scent of her hair tantalizing him once again.
'Stupid song, or her hair..' He mumbled, he was beginning to remind himself of crazy old codgers who walked around grumbling to themselves. He really needed to stop mumbling..her hair really needed to stop smelling so good and feeling so soft.
He had to think of something else..so he jumped gears, and remembered how sick he'd felt his first trip through, and wondering if it would be that bad on the way back, and if a human's body ever got used to that jump? Or did you have to have a symbiote, in order to make the jump with your lunch intact...those thoughts seemed to do the trick, because he slowly drifted back into his jumbled dreams of revenge, the strange guy that was tailing them through the city, being in a hot spring with Lazaria jasmine and honeysuckle blossoms floating on the top of the spring about them...
*******CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: When Doves Cry
Janis woke Jamesy when she rose to use the Chamber Pot, they both looked at each other, then Dorian who was still dead asleep.
Jamesy was dressed already. "I'll stand in the hall." He whispered, she nodded, & went about her morning ritual, keeping an eye on Dorian, who just laid there like a powered down cyborg..who snored.
She felt a little strange, she had very short hair. It was going to look out of place in Victorian London, she was fairly certain.
She saw the water treatment packet open, and realized Jamesy must have used them to make the pail safe for drinking.
She saw that he'd torn off the bread end, and cut into the salt pork. She said a tiny prayer, & knew her Rabbi wouldn't begrudge her, since it seemed that's all there was to eat other than cheese and she was lactose intolerant.
She walked to the door & let Jamesy back in, "I'm done," She replied in hushed tones. "Do you think we should wake him?"
She was trying to button the dress up, but couldn't reach."Could you?"
Jamesy twiddled the tiny buttons between his fingertips, and hooked them for her. "It looks like a snug fit..are you going to be all right in that?" He asked.
"Just say it, you've been dieing to since we met in the lab. You think I'm fat." She put her hand on her hip, looking at him defensively.
He didn't know where that came from, his mouth hung open. "No.. I didn't mean it that way..gosh Janis, I just meant, it's an awful lots of buttons, and it looks like it's heavy material, do you think you'll overheat?"
"Jamesy, just shut up, have something to eat. Have you thought of anything yet?" She angrily stuffed another tiny piece of the salt pork into her mouth, as she practiced sitting in the chair, but she didn't wait for him to tell her. "The way I figure it, is, one of 3 things is happening."
He nodded, waiting for her to continue, It was more than he had.
"1. We're been caught by malevolently minded beings who are waiting for us to slip up with crucial information, who have us, drugged or hypnotized or something alieny that bad alieny people w/ grudges to people like us have."
"Okay, so we attempt to disbelieve...that usually helps break mind control," Jamesy nodded.
They both sat there, screwed their eyes shut, and then opened them. "Nothing on my end." Jamesy said, then Janis kicked him in the shin, which made him grab it, and jump at the same time.
"See anything different?" Janis asked hopefully.
"No, pain didn't make my mental outlook shift..it just makes me think you could have offered to be the one to be kicked." Jamesy grumbled.
"It mayn't have worked if I expected it Jamesy." She replied sheepishly, drinking from her canteen.
"Point taken..On with Theory 2." He nodded towards her, indicating she should continue.
"We really Time Traveled, and we need to make a time machine to get back, if we can't find the Stargate." She said it swiftly, so he wouldn't laugh her out of the room.
"How very H. G. Wells of you Janis..and you said you fancied Biographies, you closet sci-fi nut you." He didn't really want to give that idea too much thought, he waved his hand. "Next..this time, don't make it so fanciful."
"The Stargate was there..but it moved," She held her hand up, before he could get a blood pressure spike, "and all we have to do if find it, and somehow power it up. It's pretty big, and fairly heavy..it's not like there's that many places it could have gotten off to. We have some equipment on us that we can modify to look for Naquadah and see if we could pick up any traces."
They sat & looked at each other. "Okay, I'll go for the last thing. I don't even want you to mention the other two ideas to the group. They'll think we're crazy for even considering them...at least with the last thing it makes it sound like we really believe we can get back home." Jamesy nodded, going to his pack, and pulling out his tiny screwdriver set, putting it into his pocket.
"Grab one end of the table so we can put it near the window for some light." He said, she complied, and they moved the whole thing, then plunked a tiny hand held Geiger Counter box onto it. Then managed to pop the back off and started to reprogram it, to be Naquadah sensitive.
In the daylight Jamesy looked like Prince. Not be confused with Albert, or Richard before he became King. He looked like he was ready to go on stage and burst into a lighter flickering rendition of Purple Rain. He'd shaved his mustache off, and looked like he was still in college.
A while later, she looked up, as if she remembered something important. "Weren't you supposed to go see Mrs. Kelly, so she could go the ATM and change our Lira for ha pennies or something?"
He grabbed the coin purse, on the table, handed her the screw driver. "Janis can't you go? She keeps making googly eyes at me, like I'm King Midas, or something."
Janis snickered, shaking her head, "No, Bonnie Prince Jamesy..you get to see your lady love..Get us some shawls while your at it K? It's freezing."
A deep, rumbly chuckle came from the bed. "Bonnie Prince Jamesy?"
"Good morning Dorian." Janis said brightly.
Jamesy just shot him a look, Dorian blew him a kiss. "Well, looks like it wasn't a dream, we're still in dis dump. Any ideas?"
"You explain to Baby Huey, while I go get us some pocket Rubles or whatever they're called here..shame Dickens didn't bother with a monetary conversion story..We're going to be taken if we don't get a handle on the money thing." Jamesy said slipping his coat over his shirt & buttoning it up.
Dorian rolled off the bed and onto the floor, like a cat falling on his feet, and started with his morning regime, of push ups, followed by sit ups, and finished with run of the mill calisthenics.
Janis tried to be nonchalant, but couldn't help but stare, he was the closest she'd ever got to one of those handsome gym types that was rippling with muscles. Though she could tell he wasn't a steroid freak. His definition was from determination, dedication & millions of reps. Too bad he had a ring on his finger.
"Anyone cook anythin?" He did some cool down stretches, and looked at her. God he hated when people stared as if they'd never seen a guy do a workout before. It's not like he was Gunner & did any of them weird Martial Arts things, that looked all pretty and graceful. Or like his wife doing the Stairmaster, which was pure poetry in motion...lots of motion.
"Sorry no, we were too busy doing modifications on this hunk of junk." She held up a screwdriver, as if he was telepathic & would instantly understand. "But you can help yourself. Jamesy treated the water, it's safe to drink now."
Dorian grabbed a chair, turned it around, and straddled it, his elbows on the table like one of the guys in the mess hall, who's just staying a second to shoot the breeze with his pals, opened the little hamper lid. "Little Red Riding Hood was sort a short on her order a Goodies." He ripped off a manly hunk of bread, pulled out his pocket knife, using it first to saw his bread in half, then to slice some cheese, & finally to shave tiny pieces of the salt pork onto the bread, making himself a sandwich.
"Bite?" He offered her the sandwich.
"No, thanks I just stuffed myself..wish I could enjoy cheese."
His shrug signified, 'her loss'. He tore into the sandwich, saying between mouthfuls, "Hear from Mr. & Mrs. Weasel yet?"
Janis snickered, shaking her head 'no', "Don't let her hear you say that, might hurt her feelings, she seems to be so nice."
"Don't let first impressions deceive ya..she is nice..so says Doll, my wife. An I found it best ta agree wit she who must be obeyed." He flashed a 1,000 Watt smile at Janis, who just melted. She could tell he was a basically decent guy, and that his problem, really was only with Lt. Col. Samuels.
"If you don't mind my asking, and if it's none of my business I'll understand perfectly. What's your beef with the Lt. Col?" She asked unable to curb her curiosity.
"Nuttin, she's just swell ta be honest. She's one a da few people, other den my Saintly Wife dat a person would do well ta back up an trust, 'cause she'll go outta her way ta be there for ya, when ya need her."
"She's a Lt. Col? I didn't know that." Dorian nodded at Janis's question, "You must really miss your wife."
It wasn't a comment she expected an answer to, but he did, "Recently married..too recent for me ta be lost in time...she deserves betta. A guy can't 'spect his fairly recent Bride ta love an honor him, if he ups an gets himself chucked outta da Stargate like some dirty bath water, witoutta way home."
"You have my word, I'll do the very best I can to get you back to her." Janis touched his knee reassuringly. "Do you think that Gunner and Samuels'll be able to be of any help, or that he'll just make a nuisance of himself again?"
"Well, I got 5 friends," Dorian said flexing his left hand again, "dat say he'll be helpful as a Boy Scout." She laughed again.
*******CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: From Hell
Gunner woke first, she couldn't help it, her internal clock just naturally told her, time to rise for morning mass. Except, there was no morning mass for her today, she wasn't on Base...and if she didn't get back, Fr. Mulchahey was going to be really ticked off with her, he was only on temporary loan to them.
She went to move, but couldn't, she was sort of pinned, Samuels had his head on her chest..and the most alarming part of it, is the man was drooling on her. The last thing that drooled on her, was her baby niece.
She managed to carefully squirm, and wiggle her way out, he was face down, sprawled across the bed on an angle. She felt like the runt of the litter trying not to wake up Old Blue.
She had her usual quiet habits on her side though, so long as she didn't forget herself and start singing, or smash and crockery, she'd be able to do everything she wanted, and he looked like he'd just sleep right through it all, he was dead to the world. She added more wood to the fire, she needed to cook their food before it went off.
These early mission times, are when she missed her best friend, who also happened to be her sister, the most. They had the strangest way of being able to pass the hours silently, but still know what the other was thinking, and being able to synchronize their actions.
She thought for a moment, what exactly Hammond would tell their various family members and significant others.
Sorry, there was a glitch, they got stranded in 1888, we know where they are, just can't seem to get them back. You might see them when they uncover the Giza Gate..now don't be alarmed if they look about forty years older.
Or would they just hand out the usual manila folders that had those dreaded huge read letters across the top of the page, that read 'Officially MIA' then had nothing but their name, and a series of black censored bars across the page, along with a slip to see a good counselor.
She prayed again. Not for themselves. They knew what they signed up for. Mishaps were bound to occur, that didn't mean she wasn't going to try and get back home somehow
No, she prayed for the others back home, like poor Walter. He was on medication sleeping pills, because he got so shook up every time there was a glitch in his dialing, which didn't happen often at all, he couldn't sleep for days.
He'd told her once, that he felt as though some of the MIA, or Deceased people haunted his sleeping hours, asking him how come he couldn't have foreseen the solution before it happened.
She remember vividly, hugging him very close, and kissing him on the forehead, like a mother would a frightened child, and telling him that he could put those fears to rest for once and for all.
She knew that for a fact, that he was the most respected and trusted person on base, and that she even knew people who wouldn't go Off World if he wasn't manning the Dialer, and that they all knew if anyone could send them off, and bring them home. It was him. Period The End.
Though right now, she really wished her sister was here, if anyone could McGyver them a way home it was definitely her, that, and well she was just much better company because she was nicer.
Gunner just knew her sister was going to lecture for not having read that quantum physics book. And really she was going to read it, she just got caught up in that James Bond Marathon, and transcribing old notes from an Away Team Mission.
Maybe Samuels was bad luck, like some cosmic jinx? She understood the concept of paying off Karmic debts, but did his have to include herself & the other team members?
The fire made the room, brighter and cozy, she really wished she'd thought to bring socks. 'note to self, bring opposite weather clothing in pack, incase of Dialer Malfunction.'
She hung her still damp black cassock over the window, for two reasons.
One, the sun might get warm enough to dry it faster, and two, it could function as a curtain, and would keep the morning sunlight out of Samuels eyes. Maybe after some decent sleep, he'd wake up in a better mood.
For all she knew, he was a really nice guy, and Dorian was just being really hard on him.
She undressed, and gave herself a quick sponge bath, then pulled on the hideous chartreuse frock Ginger had given her. It made her feel like The Grinch...and right about now, she could possibly work up a good enough grouchy feeling, so that she'd steal Christmas too.
She used some of the long thin, chair spindles as hair sticks, to pin her hair up in a style that wouldn't be too terribly out of fashion, then stepped over to the window looking at her reflection. She looked okay.
She'd even been able to keep the sweatshirt on he'd lent her under her dress, which helped it from being too big on her. For some reason, she just knew that the dresses had been made to Ginger's specifications. Lucky for her, the skirt had draw strings, that made it raise & lower, depending on how much you pulled them or let them out.
They were probably one of those fancy seamstress extras, that made it possible to wear the same dress no matter what size heels the woman owned. As it was, it skimmed the floor, but at least she wasn't tripping over it, and she could wear her usual knee high boots, and they were concealed beneath the dress nicely.
She wasn't able to get all the buttons hooked, because of her yellow and purple left hand. She used two wooden pieces from the desk, he'd brought in last night. Using them and some tape from her pack, she was able to rig a mini splint, that worked nicely.
She opened the basket. Sausage, Eggs, cheese, and bread..meals that are easy & she could stretch out.
She boiled the water in the pot, and made hard-boiled eggs, that would make them last longer. Saving the water, and boiling their crockery, while she carefully peeled all the eggs, then uncased the sausages, wrapping the raw meat around most of the shelled hard-boiled eggs.
She carefully replaced the hot water in the pail, and poured some ale into the pot. Then placed the modified scotch eggs into the liquid & let it boil until it cooked.
She said her morning prayers. If there was no power, they'd have to manually manipulate the address, then think of a way to get it juiced up, and hope the SGA picked up their GDO & they didn't splat against the iris...or that they didn't just get themselves stuck in the Egyptian one.
The good news was they knew where it was found, when it was found, and by whom. But she didn't want to mess with their timeline. Even in 2004, they were too remedial as far as their grasp on the space and travel concepts. If they used the gate now they'd have to deal with Ra all over again, and right now, she didn't really think that they could win.
She pulled out her Kodak Camera & fiddled with it, taking some pictures of the room and out of the window. Even one, to possibly pin up on the office bulletin board of Samuels.
She heard a door open and someone walking. She plucked the key from Samuels jacket pocket, opening the door a crack, to see who it was. It was Jamesy, who resembled a California Raisin. "Psst." she giggled, then tried to choke it down. "Grape Ape.. c'mere."
He turned, giving her a look, "Yes..pick on Jamesy, who got us room & board."
"I'm sorry, I'll stop....it's a very royal hue of purple, for that you could be happy." She gave him one of her warm friendly smiles.
"Did you steal a wig?" he asked, realizing how much hair was pilled on top of her head. He reached out and gave it a little tug.
"Ow, it's connected." She protested softly.
"Sorry, I just didn't know you had that much," he held up the purse.
"I'm going down to try and talk to Ginger, if I can wake her. She was up all night singing & entertaining company." Jamesy said before she could ask him what he was up too. "They're next door working on a way to find the ga.." The smell of food wafted thru the doors.
He walked in, "Mmm, something smells good." He was stunned. How was it his room looked like a dingy hole in the wall. But somehow, Samuels & she had managed to get their windows clean, along with their crockery cupboard, and even the floor was clean he could see a little spot where it was drying.
He walked over to the nice fire in the fireplace. "How on earth?" he held his palms out to it.
She put her finger to her mouth, 'shh!' then hitched her thumb to Samuels, who was still face down on the mattress, in his sweat suit.
Jamesy eyed the food, nearly drooling. "Hot," she said, giving him one. She walked with him towards the door, "You owe us some sausage & an egg," She said as she drew the door behind her.
"Keeping count?" He eyed her, not sure if she was joking.
"We have no money, and don't know how long it will be until we get any..yes I'm keeping count...I'm counting on your honor Jamesy." He blushed.
"I'm going down to see Ginger right now, to see about our money problem," he put his hand on her shoulder, "that dress really does put color in your cheeks."
"What do you want Jamesy," people never complimented her, even if they thought about it, not because she wasn't comely, she was very beautiful. She just chose not to use makeup, and wear only her black cassocks when she had a choice.
But her looks aside, people at work never complimented her, thinking themselves inferior officers, because they're rank wasn't as high as her own, or when that didn't stop them, the fact that they knew her as base chaplain, usually made them think twice.
"If I'm not back in ten minutes, please come fetch me, she's sort of pushy & has the wrong idea bout me." He confessed, she patted him reassuringly on the shoulder & said she'd come, in ten minutes, then returned to her room.
*******CHAPTER NINETEEN: Mr. Morrison W/ A Candlestick,Front a The Fireplace
Jamesy popped the last morsel of Scotch Egg into his mouth. He couldn't see why that woman wasn't married, and if not that, why she didn't own a restaurant.
He'd been on two missions with her, and she was always the cook. He was convinced she could make souffle out of dirt and blades of grass, and that it'd taste better than anything Julia Childs ever conceived.
He had a jaunty little bounce to his step. Tipping a hat at a woman who was walking up the stairs with someone he hoped was her husband, because if it wasn't, he was far too young to see that much.
He nearly slipped on the bottom step, because it was still slick from the nights rain, walked out the door, then round to the right, and knocked on Ginger's Door.
"Ginger..its Jamesy..from last night..you helped my family and friends secure lodgings." He was going to knock harder next, and hope she wasn't passed out sloshed, or still busy with company.
But the door swung open into the cramped little room, smacking into the bed stand just like it would in his room, the coat she had hanging over the broken window, billowed in the breeze..someone had pulled the wad of paper from the hole in the window.
It reeked in the little room of smoke and ale..and something else.
"Ginger?" He walked into the room. He heard her gurgle, and thinking she'd had too much, he made to set her up, but the light from outside of the door poured into the room, she was a scene in crimson.
The sight was so upsetting, that he let go of her shoulder and she flopped back on the stained mattress, He instinctively smeared the goo on his hands onto his pants.
He didn't have too much time to think of all the implications, when he saw a shadow in the doorway, "You have to get help..she's been badly hurt."
"Yes, very sick...must save her...save us all.." He gave a cracked sounding laugh.
Jamesy was a doctor, but had been so startled, he hadn't had time to do anything, not that there was anything he could do. The sound of the door clicking closed behind him didn't register until it was too late.
He turned, to seeing the brass candle stick come bashing down across his temple, then the next thing he saw was stars, as he fell forward into the muck and fell into a forced unconsciousness on the dank wooden floor, "...worms are dead.." Was the last thing he heard.
*******CHAPTER TWENTY: Butterfly Effect
Newspaper is sterile. Not many people knew that. But that's why, other than the ink, you could use it for things when you thought you might need something sterile. Which Gunner did. She used little strips to wrap the scotch eggs, once she was sure they weren't wet any longer, then she placed them on the top shelf in a cracked crockery bowl.
She also sliced the bread in half, making it a huge submarine sandwich, layering it all with cheese, and half of it with most of the salt pork, she crinkled her nose as she sliced it. She hated meat, to be honest.
She was going to try to see if she could find a grocer, for some root vegetables when it hit her, it'd been slightly over 10 minutes. And that she was supposed to go make sure that Jamesy didn't get stuck in any compromising positions with the pretty Ginger.
Daniel would find that particularly funny, after her Gilligans Island joke, that they'd actually ran across a Ginger.
She cut the sub, wrapping their separate pieces, slipping her section into her pack, and leaving his on the shelf, along with his Scotch Eggs, & the last hunk of his salt pork, then wiped her hands off on a piece of newspaper, stoked up the fire, and borrowed Samuels suit coat, to go down to Ginger's room to get poor shy Jamesy.
She slipped the glove on her right hand with room to spare, but had to struggle with her left. The splint caught on the cotton a couple of times, but she ended up being able to tug the huge thing on finally. With it on, no one could even tell there was anything wrong with it. The good news, was she didn't think it was broken, she could barely squiggle all her fingers and thumb. But the bad news was it was swollen and had started to turn kaleidoscope colors. Eww.
It started to throb again, she made a note to dump her bag out and look for some Bayers when she got back, for now, she just had to go fetch Jamesy, then she'd tend to that small inconvenience.
She passed some people on the way down the hall, that were early risers as well, who were hustling their ways to washer woman jobs, or clerk jobs in the city she imagined. The man in front of her, was dressed like a real Jim Dandy, she smiled to herself, getting lost in thought, not realizing, she'd started to follow the interesting man because she was immersing herself in her favorite past time of people watching.
It was so much more enjoyable today, than it usually was. It was harmless, but whenever some interesting character struck her fancy, she'd tail them, sometimes interested to see where they were going dressed as they were. Or because she just enjoyed the sound of the person whistling. Once, it was some high school girls, who were having an animated conversation about some rap star they were going to see in concert.
She didn't always covertly tail people. Sometimes, she'd just go to the park, sitting on a bench with a huge bag of seed and bread crumbs and she'd feed the ducks at the park, and watch the mothers playing with their children, or the joggers. There was one guy who came round in his business suit, sweatband on his forehead, jacket tied round his waist, and jogging shoes. And he'd be running his little heart out talking into a headset, and smoking a cigarette.
Her mind slipped back to the present, the Jim Dandy she was interested in was probably just 'visiting'..he got to the landing, and walked across the Court and got into a Carriage that was waiting for him, she almost walked out of the gate herself, until she remembered she was supposed to get Jamesy from Ginger's room.
Turning she looked at the place they were staying. The architecture was really quite lovely, it was less grungy than it looked last night, it'd probably been whitewashed the past summer, last nights heavy rain had washed away much of the grime.
*******CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Jack Splat
While she stood there, a man pushed past her, shoving her into the wall, because he tried to walk through her instead of around her. "Nasty worms..won't take me..no..Move you Cow...Everyone's gone mad..."
He'd plowed into her so hard, it knocked one of her makeshift hair sticks out.
"Who made you the Pharaoh of Egypt?" she shot back forgetting she wasn't supposed to be confrontational, woman's lib was still called suffrage this time period. She knelt down to retrieve the hair stick, feeling a lock of hair flop into her face.
"What did you say?" he asked in Egyptian, though speaking many languages, it hadn't occurred to her that it was odd that the rude English looking Gentleman wasn't speaking English.
"I forgot myself, I didn't say anything." She shuffled her toe in a puddle for good measure, trying to sell, the whole, 'I'm a harmless, innocent, little thing'. It might have worked, but she replied in Egyptian.
He started to walk towards her, in what she felt was a menacing manner. She held her ground. So much for the meek act, back to her usual defiant self it was. She looked him in they eyes.
He looked wet, and was wearing an Arabian style cloak with a British Top Hat, he was about 6 feet tall, very thin, and there was something about his demeanor, that gave her Goosebumps.
A woman came running down the stairs with Mr. McCarthy behind her, "I tells yew I sar a stranger in vere wiff Mary, an she wouldn't move..vere's something wrong."
The man gave Gunner the evil eye, and that wasn't a euphemism.
Her eyes got wider, she couldn't justify her little act of non-meekness as any valid reason to deserve the 'Evil Eye'.
She waved her hand in front of herself, then spit on the ground, the way the village woman had taught her. He lunged at her, grabbing her roughly by the arms, she was going to be bruised, then he felt her other arm, as if he was feeling for something on her biceps, "You're lucky...I don't think I have to come for you." he hissed.
When he saw that McCarthy & the other woman weren't leaving, and where they were he got a panicked look in his eyes, and left like the devil was on his heels.
Gunner got the distinct impression he was mad, more than just angry..more like certifiably loony.
Mr. McCarthy knocked on the door, telling Ginger to open it or he was going to break it down. Gunner walked up to see if she could find out what was going on.
"Best stand back Mi'sus Sa-mules," he said to her & the other woman, Gunner looked at her, thinking it a coincidence, she was a Samuels too, then put her hand to her forehead, and stepped back.
She wasn't really Karl's wife, but if this guy kept butchering her pretend last name, she was going to be insulted. It wasn't a soft sah. Followed by a hard Mules, that were related to Donkeys..No matter what Dorian might add on that subject. The accent was on Sam. Followed by a soft Ules. Like Ulysses.
But she didn't complain out loud, what she did almost do, was offer to pick the lock for McCarthy, who couldn't seem to kick the door open. "Mr. McCarthy, maybe you can reach in and trip the lock sir."
"Yah, juss wanted ta give 'er time ta git propah," he said lamely, then stuck his hand thru the hole in the window & unlocked the door. "'Scuse me lay-dees." He slipped into the room. Closing the door behind himself.
The strange woman, grabbed hold of Gunners hand, making her wince, "Sumfin awfuls 'appened I juss knows it.'
From where they were standing, all they could see into the room was the roaring fire, but it got hidden, every time the breeze settled and the curtain fell back over the hole in the window.
It was under a minute, when they heard McCarthy getting sick, then he came stumbling out of the room.
"Wot's wrong." the woman asked about to walk into the room. McCarthy closed the door, barring her way, shaking his head.
'Yew can't go in vere, it's sumfin 'orrible..it'll give me night terrors till tha end a me live." He got sick again, which just panicked the other woman, who let out a blood curdling scream, pronouncing 'Mary's Dead!'
She started to get hysterical, so Gunner slapped her, "Calm down. It'll be alright..just calm down."
"Git tha Constabull..tell 'im Mary's bin done away wiff, in a most 'orrible fashion an tha sick butcher vat dune tha deed is passed out on tha floor from tew much ale...Deserves ta be hung vat one does." He closed, but couldn't lock the door because he didn't have the key, then went out of the courtyard to get fresh air and wait for the Constable, that the other woman had just been sent to fetch.
There was a sinking feeling in her gut, she went in against her better judgment, she just had to see if Jamesy was in there.
Gunner slipped into the room quickly having no time to spare, she stepped cautiously over the puddle, and knew it was Jamesy on the floor.
He had what looked to be smeared Hershey's Syrup pooled like a macabre nimbus around his head. She hoped maybe it wasn't for the worst. She checked his pulse. There was none.
He couldn't be found here.
She didn't have time to conduct a thorough search of him, because then she'd get covered in the coagulated mess.
And she definitely didn't want to be questioned.
She carefully hiked her skirt up, and leaned directly over Jamesy's corpse, she snaked her hand into his undershirt, grabbed his dangling dog tags, gave a hard yank, and also snatched his pocket watch from his suit coat as she stood up again, the chain slid across his hip.
She made the sign of the cross with her right hand, and silently mouthed Jamesy's last rites, while her left hand snaked into her bodice, and came out, holding a Zat gun. She stepped back and started walking towards the door. She could hear the distant, but approaching sounds of the local police force, and the first Zat arced across the room in a cold blue streak, "..on." The second streak left a huge sizzling scorched mark in the middle of his chest. "ly Ghost." The last one left an empty space on the floor, where his body once laid.
"Amen." She his pocket, her hand was on the door knob, she twisted it the left, pulled open the door, turning her back on the crime scene that would be etched on her mind until her dying days.
She might has well been invisible, everyone else was interested in going to see what the commotion was about, they didn't take any notice of her.
She was in a little bit of a daze, while the rest of her brain waves managed to trip all of the other cogs of her memory into place bringing an absolute clarity and Focus, that shown like a Spot light directly onto what'd she'd been missing.
While she'd been focused on the MIA Stargate, and getting the rest of the Team home to their families, that little bird had flown free from the little birdhouse in her soul, and while it flittered back and forth over World News, the pain in her wrist, the memory of just seeing the butchered body of poor Mary Ginger Kelly.
1888's London Paper's didn't carry the headline, Mary Kelly's Killer discovered dead on the floor of her room, from blow to his head.
Dorian and Janis heard the trill of a alarm whistles, blowing, then they stopped. They went to the window, he yanked it back up, like it was a curtain, and they saw them rush into one of the first floor rooms.
"Isn't that Gingers room all those people are milling around?" Janis asked.
"Jamesy an Gunner." He snapped into action, grabbing his coat, cramming his arms into both sleeves so fast, that when he finally got his hands out of the cuffs, he'd tugged it too taut, and he split the seams on the inside shell.
The both of them had just rushed out of their room door, when they nearly plowed Gunner down in the hallway. Her hand was on the knob of her room door. And she seemed preoccupied.
"What's goin on down dere..tell me yew's didn't do nuthin?" he asked somehow knowing it was bad news.
She pressed something into his hands, "I couldn't compromise our history."
"You're not making any sense honey." Janis put an arm around her shoulder, and started to lead her into their room, but Gunner stopped. Dorian saw the bloodied watch chain, and understood. But he didn't know why. But she shut him down, making it more than apparent he had to wait for his answers.
"I need to compose my self, and wake Samuels. Meeting in twenty." She sounded and looked fine to Janis. But Dorian frowned, pounding his fist against the wall.
*******CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Goooood Mourn-in Whitechaaaaaaaapple
Gunner walked into her room, deep in contemplation. She'd done the right thing, keeping the Timeline in tact. McCarthy was so upset, that the Cops would just convince him that it had only ever been Ginger in the room by herself. And that he'd mistook the mans coat over the broken window for the missing man.
Poor Jamesy. She really should have gone with him, or in his place like he'd asked her too. He was only a medic, his hand to hand was middling apparently his self defense should have been worked on. It was too late now.
She was perplexed and in pain before, now she actually harbored her first fear. What if only Jamesy knew what they needed. What if he was the one that had the knowledge to get the others back? But when the time came, they couldn't because he was gone.
'don't be self defeating.' she chided herself. She took a deep breath. Only three more times tops, she'd have to talk about what happened and explain her actions, and then, she could forget it about it forever. Yeah right. She never forgot anything, that's what comes of having an eidetic memory. It's always there. You just have to reshuffle your memories, like a hand of Gin Rummy, to get to the pertinent one, you need to make your flush.
She looked at Samuels, who was still dead asleep, nudged the mattress, saying softly, but firmly, 'Sir..you have to get up.'
He did nothing but drool.
She leaned over the bed, and carefully prodded at his hand, with her fingertips, "Samuels." she daintily lifted his hand by his pinky, then let go, watching it drop like a lead balloon. "Rise and Shine."
Still nothing. "Oh for goodness sakes," she sighed exasperatedly, sat on the side of the bed and leaned closer to his face, and shook his shoulder, "Karl It's an Emergency Get Up."
She'd give nearly anything for a seltzer bottle full of cold water this very second. He was very into the whole chain of command thing. So she didn't play her, I'm the base chaplain card, and just call him by his first name.
Karl wasn't too bad, not as first names went. It was just that she felt sort of strange being that personable with him. He really came off like a Lifer, who ate, breathed, slept and worked the Military Life. He probably didn't realize it, but his superiority complex, just reeked of black ops. He wasn't a Mole, or didn't run a band of them, she'd be pretty surprised. His chicken little impersonation, might have fooled the others, but she really thought it was just an act.
She hated to play dirty, but she needed him to get up, and be dressed and ready to roll now. She drew back the covers, and applied her knowledge of Shiatsu.
After she pressed his fifth and last pressure point between his shoulder blades, his breathing had changed. "If you don't get up right now, I'm letting Dorian hang you out of the window by your heels...and I'm not joking."
"Juss ten more.." he pleaded. his voice still groggy, and thick with sleep. It was more than apparent, he thought she was someone else entirely. Someone who could let him indulge in his delusions of a nice, leisurely rest. Not someone who needed him dressed and ready for action yesterday.
"I'm sorry I can't, something's happened and I need you all awake and Lieutenant Colonel-y..not all 'mommy I can't go to schoolish'" she shook the mattress.
"C'mon you Air Force Fly Boy...or I'll torture you with Apollo's socks." she tugged on his arm, feeling like a miniature dachshund trying to lead a Dog Sled all by herself, and failing miserably. She slid her boots off.
"Up an attem Sleeping Beauty...let's go, chop chop. You have to get washed up and dressed, you have less than five minutes..." He was a up' theory.
She scrambled over his prone body, sitting on the mattress, her back against the wall and managed to get her cold feet under him enough to use her legs for better leverage so she could push him onto his back.
She felt immediate sympathy for his mother, when he was a teenager. "Holy Cow, do I need an H-Bomb to get you out of bed? How do you ever make it for debriefings? You're annoying me." She whined feeling defeated, as she sat there thinking.
It was a last ditch effort, she said it as sweetly as she could, "Karl, breakfast is ready." Hoping to evoke the memories of his mother rousing him.
He sat up like an animatronics Frankenstein doll. "Did someone say breakfast? What are you doing?" he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, blinked looking at her, expecting someone else.
Great. She got stuck with the only soldier who slept like the dead, and when he finally got roused, would have to be reminded who she was, and what they were supposed to be doing.
She could have dressed him up like Bozo the Clown, and he'd been dead to the world. She could tell he almost asked who she was, because this strange lime dress and her hair looked completely different from her everyday apparel.
"Trying to wake you up." she said, the irritation thick in her voice.
He stretched. "For how long?" He got out of bed, and she tried to nonchalantly sit in the warm spot. Using the blanket like a lap throw.
She pulled her pack towards her, and took out the cheese sandwich, staring at the wall, to give him some privacy.
"Too long. You really need to work on that waking at the first sign of a crisis soldier thing Sir." She pulled a piece of sandwich off, and nibbled it. "You're a little rusty, the place could be ashes this very second, and you'd still be in the blaze."
"I see our Chaplain woke up on the bad side of the bed this morning." Samuels said, not knowing how right he was.
Dorian pounded on the wall that separated their two rooms, she used her tiny fist to Morse code back, 'more time'.
*******CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Shutting Down The Waterworks Plant
Janis fiddled with the Naquadah Counter some more, while Dorian blew time doing more sit ups, just to burn off nervous energy.
"What did she mean about Jamesy?" Janis asked Dorian, thinking that Dorian seemed to have some inside knowledge about how Gunner's brain worked than she did.
"I think she meant what it sounded like. Something happened. Maybe Jamesy figured out how to get home, maybe he's in no position to go back, maybe he ran off and got married to Ginger..either way, Whatever happened, He's just not here with us anymore." His speech came out smooth, even though he spoke whilst doing his sit-ups.
"You don't think he left us here..I mean, he'd come back for us." Janis looked worried.
"No." Dorian didn't want any waterworks. They made him feel uncomfortable "If he made it back, he's tellin Walt & Siller how ta fix da mess up, an dey'll be back for da rest of us. Ya know how he is."
Actually Dorian had no idea how Jamesy was. He'd never talked to the man, he could be a dirty rat for all he knew. But when upset, some people would believe whatever it was that comforted them most. He'd managed not to mess up for a change, because Janis just nodded and agreed with him.
"Janis, If ya get dat hunk a junk workin, we can play show an tell wit dem when Gunner spills da beans on her news..maybe even make it back ta our beds taday. Whaddya tink about dem apples?"
People who met Dorian Apollo, either liked him or hated him. He was like a throw back to the days of Dragnet. You could easily picture him flashing a badge and asking for 'da facts. juss da facts ma'am.'
She smiled. "Yeah, I'd like dem apples."
"Janis, yer not makin funna my accent, are ya?" He gave her a playful smile.
She nodded. "Caught me red handed." she laughed.
Crying Jag 1, Dorian 2. He was thankful that waterworks episode was avoided. He looked at his watch, eleven minutes. Maybe she didn't need the full twenty she asked for. He knocked on the wall. Gunner thudded back, saying something about his dots and dashes, that sounded against the laws of physics.
He went back to his sit ups, and switched to push ups when he got bored.
*******CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR: I Do Not Like Green Eggs And Ham
Karl couldn't help but notice, that Lazaria had a double standard. When it came to changing, he had to stand in the hall. But she could sit on the bed, staring at the wall, playing with a sandwich, ignoring him.
It really was like that Doors song, 'People Are Strange."
He pulled everything on in the right order, but couldn't get the tie done right to save his life. It was just too..well, big was one word. Ugly was another. Big and Ugly was just perfect.
He sat on the edge of the bed, leaving the strip of material around his shoulders, and turned his attention to his shoes instead, he'd made good time, it'd only taken him a total of eight minutes to get fully washed and dressed.
He turned and looked at her, then her sandwich, she was picking at it like a bird, "Is it any good?"
She nodded, "Very, it's sourdough bread."
"Can I have some? Somehow all the food in the hamper went awol." He watched her face. Expecting her to say she and some mice had some extravagant salt pork, sausage, egg and cheese tea party, and forgotten to drop him his invitation.
She broke into musical laughter, smiling at him, "I knew you had a sense of humor...mmm."
"So does that mean I can have a bite?" He asked hopefully.
"Um, no, you're food if over there on top of the cupboard." she pointed.
He got up, not expecting to find brown lumps and a submarine sandwich. "I'm going to assume the brown lumps used to be eggs or something." he crinkled his nose. Why couldn't he ever be sent someplace, with a gourmet chef? He always got stuck with the person who could scorch water.
"They're still eggs ya goof. Just now they're Scotch Eggs. Try it you'll like it." He experimentally broke a piece off, holding it between his fingers, then sniffed it.
"It smells like breakfast sausage." He tentatively put it in his mouth, and chewed it. His taste buds were rewarded with a rich, flavorful banquet. "Not bad..."
"Thank you." Gunner replied. "You can actually bite into it, and you'll find a really pretty hardboiled egg in the middle...don't make that face..it's peeled. I didn't fall off the back of the mess hall truck yesterday." She giggled.
*******CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: Why Are The Eggs Green, What's Wrong With Them?
He grabbed two more, and sat on the edge of the bed again, and offered her one to go with her sandwich, she looked mortified, and shook her head, frowning, "No..no..those are just for you." she pushed his hand back towards him.
Karl got the sinking suspicion there was something wrong with the food 'just for him'. He didn't think they'd resort to poisoning him, but maybe he just assumed she was a real Chaplain. It wouldn't be beyond his associates to arrange for his demise. They weren't very pleased with his recent progress of late.
And what a better vessel than a very beautiful woman, in unassuming Chaplains clothing. No one would ever expect such a tiny, fragile, doll to be, what did those Goa'uld call it..and Ashrak.
"What's wrong with it." His voice hardened, he eyed her suspiciously.
"Nothing." Gunner replied not understanding his sudden change in behavior. "I just made them this morning. They're perfectly fine. Why?"
It was her turn to give him a steely gaze, if he crabbed about her cooking skills, she was going to slap him again. Because she'd never had a complaint. Maybe that the person didn't like say beef, or was allergic to chives. But never an actual complaint on the flavor or nutritional value of her food. She drew her knees to herself, and hugged them.
"IF it's perfectly fine, then why is your food over here?" he nudged her paper wrapped sandwich portion that she'd stuffed into her pack.
"Samuels, you're being a spaz again." she rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. Why couldn't the man just be good soldier all the time, instead of slipping into this bad soldier behavior pattern. "We have the same thing."
"If it's the same, I want what's in your hand and you can have mine instead." he didn't exactly demand it, but he may as well have.
Her jaw dropped, as realization hit, she looked genuinely stunned, "You think," she pointed to herself, "I, would poison you? You're beyond unbelievable. Even if you're acting like a spaz, I don't have a reason, I don't know you enough to want to poison you."
"I didn't say that." Karl felt her eyes boring into him accusingly. She managed to look, astounded, amused and cross all at the same time.
"Then why the fit over the food. I didn't have to cook for you, I could have let it rot, or worse yet, let Dorian cook..then you'd just wished it would have rotted, because he burns everything." She started to laugh, shaking her head.
"You have serious issues Samuels. You should really consider counseling. Long term, intensive Jungian Psycho-analysis. You've got a persecution complex as long as my hair." She blushed she hadn't meant to get so insulted, and had said far more than she'd meant to.
"Well if our food's exactly the same, then why did you separate it? And why won't you eat it?" He eyed her. If he was going to cash it in she was too, he'd cram it in her mouth and make her eat it too.
"Let me make this simple, so you can follow me." she cocked her head to the side, "We both have bread, from the same loaf. I took the toastier side..because I like it. Still with me? Good." She lifted the bread and he saw cheese. "We both have cheese, though I have more, I put most of it onto my bread, and saved half the chunk for us both later."
"Where's the meat?", he interrupted.
"It's all in your sandwich, and a hunk left by it's self for you to have later. I gave you all the Scotch Eggs..well I gave Jamesy one for his last supper..." she paused. The thought was just too morbid. "And I left some of them just hardboiled for you to snack on."
"How come you're not eating any eggs or meat, what's wrong with it?" He was being demanding in that weird way of his again.
"Oh I dunno, maybe because I'm a vegetarian." She looked at him and he felt instantly as dumb as a box of rocks, and he was a pebble. "If you have anymore food issues, I'm sure that Dorian and Janis would be more than happy to eat what you find unpalatable."
He turned away from her, and they sat in silence. "Where's my sweatshirt?" he wanted to change the subject. He'd really gone and made a jerk of himself now.
"I didn't poison it, if that's what you're worried about." Her words stung. He wished she'd just yell at him. But even when she raised her voice, she didn't yell like most people, she just spoke more rapidly.
She was one of those people that other people were talking about, when they said the tongue was sharper than a sword, and pierced even deeper.
There he went again, caring about the things she said to him. And not understanding why he cared about hurting her feelings. She couldn't give him some sterling report that would get him a medal. She didn't have anything he actually needed.
He raised the Scotch Egg to his lips, and bit. This egg having only been soft boiled, the golden yolk, dripping down his finger. He licked it off.
He didn't go out of his way to be undiplomatic, he was usually tactful, but he could honestly say, someone else's reaction to his accusations had never affected him in such a fashion before. He wanted to make it up. But didn't know how too.
*******CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Year of the Minkey
"For the record I'm sorry." This was going to be a long mission. He hoped she'd forgive him, and not make him walk on water to prove he meant what he said.
It also creeped him out slightly that she was so dead on about some of her insights. He wished she'd stop profiling him, or whatever it was that Ministers did.
He saw her hand reach into her backpack, as she replaced the sandwich. She hadn't allotted herself very much of the food. "Is it going to be enough? You can have the cheese off mine." He offered.
"I'll be fine, fanx." She knelt behind him on the bed.
"What are you doing?" He asked warily.
"Still not poisoning you. But if you keep acting like I'm out to end your life, I'm going to choke you with your tie, instead of show you how to put it on like a proper gentleman." She giggled.
"Hold each end of your tie, one in each hand." He did as she said, and he felt, then saw her gloved right hand over his right. The ringlet of her rogue hair, brushed across his cheek when she leaned over his shoulder, to better see what he was doing, "Bring that side up and over ..no..I meant under. Yes, like that. Now loop that minkey tail. that way & hold it with your pinky"
"Minkey?" Samuels turned to look at her porcelain fine face.
"Well, it's supposed to be Monkey..but you know how close the letters u, i and o are on a keyboard. Well a good friend made a typo once, and it was so cute, it just stuck. Anyways." She laced her finger under his, and pushed.
"Now it's in a sort of slip knot..just bring it higher..and one more time through the loop in your pinky..and there. You're all dapper."
He was staring at her long chocolate eyelashes, the way they fluttered every time she blinked, like the delicate wings of a dragonfly.
Her eyes were the color of warm inviting, dark Baltic Amber that collectors would pay big bucks for, because they had prehistoric specimens trapped within them.
Until this moment, he couldn't understand what would have fascinated and transfixed an animal enough to try to dive into the liquid depths of the flowing resin. His breath caught in his throat.
Maybe spending an eternity in her company wasn't as bad as he'd first thought. Expect for that horrible habit he had of making her suddenly irritated with him. Things were progressing rather nicely he fancied.
She smiled and her eyes twinkled, he realized she'd met his gaze, which snapped him back to the current situation.
"Think you have it?" she pat him on the arm and sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, and slid her feet into her boots, jumping off the high bed, into them, and stomping her heel into the left boot, to get her foot inside of it totally.
She walked over to the drinking water, with her canteen and filled it. and placed it back into her pack, then folded everything, as compact as possible, and crammed all her belongings back into her pack as if she were leaving somewhere.
She looked at her watch. Dorian should be coming over soonish, she sat in front of the hearth to warm up more.
*******CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: Hindsight is 20/20
She just couldn't wait anymore, she wanted to be wowed by Samuels hopefully vast knowledge of technical know how, that was going to conveniently bring the rest of the team back alive, so she finally asked, what could be construed as a personal question, "I know why the rest of us were chosen for the trip..I just can't figure out your reason for being here." she gave him an apologetic glance.
"I'm sure you're a nice diplomat and all, but we have Maj. Davis. And he's just spectacular." She shrugged her shoulder, and poked at the fire with her poker. "At least I think Paul's great."
"Davis was on medical leave. He broke his foot skiing." Samuels informed her, wondering just how 'great' she thought Davis was. He felt a pang of what he could only jealousy.
"what's your storey?", she turned towards him, and asked.
She looked genuinely interested, and as if she really didn't know what was going on. If she'd been snotty about it, he wouldn't have answered at all, but he figured after basically accusing her of trying to poison him, the least he could do was give her a straight answer.
He was feeling sorry for himself again, "One of the Powers That Be, has it out for me. They didn't appreciate the fact that Senator Kinsey requested me, and the Chairman of the Joint of Chiefs, wanted me to co-ordinate our actions against the Goa'uld with the Pentagon." He saw the wisdom in being packed, and started to cram his belongings into his pack as well.
He didn't think it would be very wise for them to let their gear out of their sight, because even one of their more simple items, if they fell into the wrong hands, could revolutionize the way things were made, or used, far before they were even invented in the timelines as we knew them in 2004.
He swilled some water from his canteen, "The Pentagon chose to do nothing to alert our enemies that we knew they were in our atmosphere."
He used the back of his hand to wipe away the dampness from his mouth.
"That was dumb, I wonder which monkey brained dope suggested that plan of inaction," she shook her head, and snarfed, "even I know we should have been on full alert."
She had pulled another section of the sandwich from her pack, and was picking the cheese off from it, nibbling it piece by piece. He was scowling when she looked up to ask him to continue.
It hit her, it was on his suggestion, "Oh..." she nodded, "I see." She blushed a little, "I'm sure you had your reasons Sir."
"I believe now more than ever, they should have heeded my advice which has always been that they should have destroyed or buried the Stargate." He shook his head, voice tinged with bitterness.
"Anyway, the President approved my pre-emptive strike against the Goa'uld Ships. We used 2 prototype missiles, what we called Goa'uld Busters, that were modified with the Alien Material, Naquadah, to enrich our Mark 12-A Warheads."
He zipped up his sack, "Both Missiles were outfitted with the same material we use on our own Stealth Aircraft. Which theoretically should have rendered them undetectable by their radar."
She was finally giving him her full attention, and Karl was feeling a little boastful, "We waited until they were in a geo-synchronous orbit over the United States, Locked in our attack profile, and Vandenberg launched.."
"That sounds like it should have been a fairly formidable weapon." She was impressed with his idea. Even if it ended up not working, at least he was doing something.
"I helped oversee the development of the Missiles at Area 51 with Colonel Maybourne." He must have boasted too much, because she frowned.
"In other words you played Openhiemer with unstable Alien Materials." She shook her head, "I dunno what you weapons tech guys think."
She was pensive, though not entirely judgmental over his actions.
"Those warheads yielded in excess of 1000 megatons.. each. & it 'should' have made them weapons of mass destruction that could protect us from the Goa'uld." he gave her a condescending look, "If they'd done what they were supposed to, We would have caught the Goa'uld off guard, and history would have marked that day with two brilliant and unexplained flashes in the night sky. The world would have never known how close we came to Armageddon."
"That raw sample..that was what SG5 retrieved wasn't it?." Gunner, shook her head. "You guys shouldn't have wasted it that way."
"As a matter of fact, we did." He had to give her that, she knew her business. "They didn't like that I had the Presidents go ahead, and that it didn't include trying to gate to one of the ships to get SG-1's bacon out of the frying pan."
"Good thing they didn't think the same about us." Gunner mumbled.
Samuels looked up at her, licking a crumb of meat left on his finger from the Scotch Egg he just finished. "What?"
"I said, Good thing we have enough.." She took a sip of water from his tin cup.
"Besides, I'd truly believed, and hoped SG-1 had made it off." Samuels said, sounding less war-mongery, and more compassionate than he'd sounded so far.
"If it hadn't been for our Goa'uld Busters, SG-1 wouldn't have gave enough time to get their own counter-measures into action." He gave a smug sneer.
She should have known not to jinx his nice side, by noticing it. In the space of less than a moment, his Alter Ego Lt. Colonel Insensitive Samuels kicked him in his Id.
It made him into a caricature of a man, that you couldn't help but dislike, maybe even hate if you let yourself.
"Despite the fact that your plan," she wanted to be slightly diplomatic, even though she'd found his comment verging on ludicrous. "Seemed to fall short of your intended outcome, I'm sorry, I still don't see how that got you singled out to be on this mission."
"It was due to a misunderstanding over the Alpha List." Samuels sat on the chair next to Gunner, watching her twirl some of her no doubt, sweet scented hair, then skewer it with what looked like a chopstick. "I volunteered for the mission to preserve mankind. I thought they
*******CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: Why You Doity Rat..
"Maybe dey didn't want ta persoive da best example a Human Kinds Biggest Weasel." Dorian said, as he stood in the doorway.
"An for da record, I was dere, yer little firecrackahs didn't do a ting odder dan knock out our own Satellite Communications, makin it a useless hunk a junk, when they hit dose Goa'ulds Ships Force Fields."
"You were not." Samuels stood so fast, his chair fell over, "That's not what happened."
"Dis is what happened, soon as ya hoid Hammond tell da Pres he outta board Air Force One, ya had kittens, an ya suggested we bomb da co-ordinates dat Dan had, or da unfortunate people a Chulak." Dorian was so irritated he took a few paces into the room, meeting Samuels, half way, so that they were now standing face to face.
Samuels blood pressure was so high, there was a flush to his face, "You're dismissed." he said through clenched teeth. He was still unaware of Dorian's rank, because frankly right now, Dorian was dressed in his Victorian clothing, and looked like he was late for the carnival's center ring.
"I don't need yer leave Samuels, we're da same rank. An further more, ya haven't been wanted or needed on dis mission either, but we're still stuck babysittin ya." Dorian gave him a hard steely look. "Did ya ever wonder why Gunner's yer partner? It's not for ya ta look after her, as I'm sure ya think,'cause she's too tiny."
"Dorian, don't." Gunner finally got up, and walked over to him pulling on his arm.
"It's cause she's da only person who'll even give ya a second chance ta prove yer not a spineless coward & can protect herself an you from da boogey man, when ya run in da opposite direction screaming like a two year old who tinks dere are monstahs in his closet.." Dorian was probably going to say more, but Karl couldn't take anymore.
It was an insult to more than just his rank, it was a blow to his manhood. He hauled off and socked Apollo in the jaw hard enough to scrape his knuckles.
He heard the alarm in both the women's voices, as they simultaneously pleaded, "Dorian No!" but it was too late.
"That was a cheap shot, Samuels, she had my arm." he heard that, and a second later, he was flying backwards through the air, he'd have fallen on the floor, but the splintered table, broke his fall.
"No more Apollo. If you can't be a good example, then you'll just have to be a horrible warning." Gunner scolded as she threw herself across Samuels, though Karl was still seeing stars, he hoped it was to hold him back from really letting Apollo have it...but he had a sinking suspicion she was using her body as a shield, so Apollo didn't sneak in another upper cut.
Janis on the other hand, stood in front of Dorian, her hands on his shoulders, trying to keep him from advancing towards Samuels, and she started to cry so hard, she collapsed on Dorian's chest.
Dorian looked as though he'd been hit by a ton of bricks, and was horrified. He looked towards Gunner and even Samuels for some sort of help. He never was one for what he sexistly termed 'girlie troubles'.
"Look, please stop fighting we all want to get home. Before he died, Jamesy helped me modify the Geiger counter, we'll find the gate and then get out of here. But not if the rest of us don't get our act together." She blew her nose loudly on Dorian's frilly tie, which he managed to slink off, and outright give to her.
"I don't care what Samuels did, it couldn't have been all that awful, or General Hammond wouldn't have let him come with us. He has to have some sort of experience that can help us right now this very minute. He'd be a fool to leave us in our time of need. We're his ticket home for crying out loud." Another loud honk, and a pause followed by her last minute sniffles.
Dorian still stood there, and Gunner motioned that he should comfort her. He experimentally pat her on the back, like he was burping a baby. And she started to calm down.
"C can I have one of those?" She pointed to one of the scotch eggs on the table, where Karl had left the bowl, he was going to place them in his pack last, so they wouldn't get squished. He's decided she was right, when you ate a bite of the meat, with the egg it really made all the difference in the world. "They smell really good."
"Yeah, but you can't eat it if you're crying, you'll choke." Dorian informed her.
"I won't, I stopped." she said, blowing her nose a last time. The modified counter hung around her neck from a strap. It wasn't very big, just not small enough for her to hid. The good think was that it could be set on vibrate, instead of the usual annoying audible ticks. Dorian grabbed the scotch egg and thrusting it into her hand.
Far as he was concerned, if she was eating, she couldn't be crying, and that suited him Just fine. Natural thing to do, helped get tension out he'd heard all the excuses for why a 'good cry did wonders'. He didn't buy any of it. It sounded like some crackpot theory to sell more tissues that some guy who had stock in the company made up.
Karl still didn't do anything but lay there. If he were a cartoon, right about now, the birds would be waltzing with the stars to a nice symphony. Maybe a nice lie down, was just what the doctor ordered. He saw Lazaria turn to tend to him, yet again, ignored by the medics. He hated when the other guy was right about things. And it seemed that he really wasn't liked, or even respected by the other three people on this team.
"Dorian, you jerk. I think you broke his jaw." Gunner scolded Apollo, her gloved fingers feeling carefully, over his cheeks. She reached to one of the inside folds of her dress, and tore off a swatch of fabric which she daubed at his mouth, bringing it back stained crimson.
"I'll get you some" Gunner started to say ice, but then remembered they didn't have any, she bit the lower corner of her lip as she thought, holding the piece of fabric there to slow the tiny split in his lip.
Lazaria pushed to hard on his tender mouth, and he jumped, shoving her hand away.."Get off me," angrily commenting, "I can do it myself, I don't need the Team Chaplain playing Florence Nightingale."
He braced himself, and slowly stood up, & used the toe of his shoe to shove the broken wood into the corner, to use as kindling later if they didn't find a way away from this forsaken corner of time.
"Whatever, I was just trying to help Sir." the hurt to the rebuff of her first aide apparent in her voice. She could have very well been a practicing medical doctor, it was one of her minors. As a matter of fact, that was one of her past times, researching Ancient Medicine and it's practices. She was very good with drugs, on and off world. And was one of the leading Away Team Operatives that was responsible for the SGA having such and extensive collection of off world flora and fauna. She collected and catalogued more specimens than anyone else so far.
*******CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: Banana Hammocks!
The room was too quiet, nothing was getting done, "Banana Hammocks."
Everyone looked at Gunner, "It's just a little trick I learned from JD. Janis what's that around your neck?" Gunner pointed to the thing around her neck.
"That Modified Geiger Counter I told you about, but instead of Radiation, I have it looking for Naquadah emissions, so we can get the heck out of here." Janis said holding it up.
"Dr. Pearl," Karl looked at her, "Shouldn't you wait to say this until your colleague Dr. Morrison arrives?"
He saw Lazaria blanch, and look as though she was going to be ill, "Jamesy, Dr. Morrison." She said for Samuels benefit, "Went to Ginger to get our currency changed. I assume he came in on the culprit, and that Ginger was already gone. He made quick work of Jamesy, it was a very hard, and had to have been rapid blow to the head, because Jamesy didn't have time to move. There was no sign of a struggle. From Ginger nor, from Jamesy."
Gunner got another tin of water, and drank it, before she continued, "Needless to say the Yard was called in, and I had to do damage control. We can't change this timeline, and we can't stash him...I..Well..I..I had to use my Zat."
"I claim full responsibility for my actions, and there wasn't any time to do anything different." She reached into Dorian's coat pocket, pulled out his silver flask and took a swig.
"Now's not the time to indulge in your alcoholic tendencies." Karl scowled disapprovingly.
"It's antacid Sir." Janis told him, taking the flask from Gunners' fingertips, and thrusting it towards him for his inspection.
"Oh. So you're telling me you destroyed evidence, when one of our own personnel has murdered someone?" Karl looked at Lazaria, hoping he'd misunderstood what she was saying.
She nodded, then quickly shook her head no. "He's innocent."
"You don't know that, we could have assisted them." Samuels started to contradict her, wondering why she'd done what she did.
"Look, you don't understand. If I'd have left Jamesy there, then our history books would have said, 'Jack The Ripper Found in Mary Kelly's Room. And we would have changed our Timeline, that 'must' be kept in tact." She didn't mean to blurt it out like that. She hiccupped.
"Mary Kelly?" Janis asked. "I thought her name was Ginger."
"It musta been an alias," Dorian replied, apparently that satisfied Janis' curiosity, because she let it drop.
"When body and mind grow weak, the Self gathers in all the powers of life and descends with them into the heart. As prana leaves the eye, it ceases to see.
"He is becoming one," say the wise; "he does not see.
He is becoming one; he no longer hears.
He is becoming one; he no longer speaks, or tastes, or smells, or thinks, or knows."
By the light of the heart the Self leaves the body by one of its gates; and when he leaves, prana follows, and with it all the vital powers of the body." Everyone stared at Gunner, who had a far away look in her eyes.
"It's from the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad." She explained, even though everyone felt slightly more confused.
"A course..da good ole You-pan-is-shad, we knew dat." Dorian shrugged. If she was going daffy, he didn't want to be here to witness it.
She sat on the side of the bed. "And I got accosted by some guy dressed in an Egyptian like cloak robe..he threatened me."
"When was this? You were told not to go out by yourself." Samuels looked more upset than he should have, at least that's what Dorian thought.
He looked from one to the other. Gunner was upset, she had that Marine's mentality that 'no one got left behind'. The fact that she had to keep the timeline intact, was really upsetting her.
"Don't just sit there, answer me." Karl demanded, then realized how it sounded and changed his tone of voice because Apollo was giving him a strange look, "We'd really like to know."
Janis sat next to Gunner and cupping her hand in her own, until Gunner suddenly got up. "We have to go now...we can't leave any of our gear behind. We need to distribute the weight of his belongings amongst the three of us, and we need to get that gate, or a job..or something I hate cheese sandwiches."
"We're out of money too." Gunner said, "I didn't have time to get the bag of coins off of him before I had to..you know. We can hit a pub if you play the piano, I can sing and we can get some sort of spending cash." She shook her head, "I need to go on a retreat, something fierce."
*******CHAPTER THIRTY: I Didn't Mean Play Queen
They had to hit about four different Pubs until they found one that would let them sing for their supper.
Gunner had philphered a nice fur lined hand muff for Janis to use, it was a convenient place to stash the tiny Naquadah Counter, that so far hadn't registered a single tick.
Dorian sat at the Piano, laced his fingers and cracked them. "A one, A tew." He tapped his foot, then went into a period sounding rendition of 'Good Old Fashioned Loverboy' by Queen. Gunner had been too surprised to make her first cue, so he played it once again, and then she sang it in the popular style of the day. And was 100% thankful she actually studied musical styles.
Amazingly enough the patrons ate it up. "If you play 'Fat Bottomed Girls' I'll have your head on a silver platter." she said softly to him, while maintaining a friendly, interested smile, his first instrumental break.
When the music started again, she strolled around the room, making eye contact with the various patrons. Only one seemed to stand out. But that was because he gave her a handful of coins, he was there with an elderly white coiffed woman. Who smiled at her. Amused by someone who looked to be a younger male version of herself.
After quite a bit of piano playing, thankfully Dorian switched to classical music, from Operettas, which she sang the vocals to. Just when she thought she'd loose her voice, they were able to stop, and the bar owner let them mill about, to collect the money for their impromptu performance.
The nice thing was they even got offered a job, if they wanted it. Which they'd both have to take the Pub Owner up on, if they couldn't get back home.
They finally got outside, and counted out their haul, while Janis fiddled with the counter, and pointed it into various directions, getting no readings what so ever.
No one was around, so Gunner took out her antique Kodak, and snapped off a picture, off her new roll while she could.
"Dorian, I'm not feeling so great. Can I borrow some aspirin or something? I think I'm coming down with a fever." Gunner looked at him hopefully. She had loads of stuff with her, just not anything for pain.
"Know vat's gud for fever?" Some men came out of the pub together. they all had non British native accents, and were obviously having quite a night on the town.
Dorian had fished out the tiny bottle of Bayers for her, tossing it.
The man had startled her so badly, Gunner dropped the camera, hearing the lens break, she cringed. One of the men bent with her, to retrieve the camera for her.
She almost reached for the camera, but the new bottle of Bayers, was whizzing towards her, bouncing off her sprained wrist, across the cobblestones.
The man in the pub, exited it walking at a brisk pace, as if he was following someone. He took no notice of the team, counting out the nights pay.
Janis felt her monitor go off in her hand, as a man passed in front of it. "Got a hit." she said excitedly, following rapidly.
Samuels and Dorian started to rush after Janis who was preoccupied reading the monitor and following the person who set it off.
Gunner was still trying to retrieve her Camera and the bottle of Bayer when Dorian came back, and literally hefted her off her feet, "C'mon we ain't got all day."
"Timeline..they have my stuff." Gunner softly protested.
Both of the confused bystanders, just shrugged their shoulders, watching her get carried away around the corner.
The man turned the camera over in his hands, lost in curiosity, "What do you make of this Eastman?" He gave the thing to his acquaintance. "I'm not into gadgets."
"I know Hoffmann, you'd rather delve into the properties of medicine." The other said, with a chuckle, trading him the bottle, that contained only one pill.
The team followed the man, who was following another man, until first one, then the other man from the pub got into different cabs. They were all on the corner when a horse drawn carriage pulled up, asking them where they wanted to go.
"Not to sound cliched, but please follow our companions in those other two cabs, that are down the lane." Samuels instructed the cabbie, then joined the other three that had piled into the cab, with all their gear.
"Does that mean he's got Naquadah in his pocket, or like residual Naquadah on his clothing or what." Gunner asked Janis, looking very excited.
"I couldn't say. But we'll be able to find out." They went quite a ways out of the city, and into a more rural area.
Samuels, reached over, taking her by the forearm, 'Lazaria, are you going to be alright?"
She shrugged, "I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me at once." she gave him a weak smile, and pulled the scratchy woolen blanket that the Cabbie had in there to use, over her lower extremities.
They finally came to a stop. Dorian looked out, then, motioned for all of them to join. They saw, first one, then the other figure rushing across a field.
They told their cabbie to wait for them. The other two cabbies left.
Once the Cabbie, got paid handsomely, he decided to stay.
*******CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: Over the mountains & thru the woods
Dorian, and Samuels bolted in the direction the other two men had gone, with Janis and Gunner bringing up the rear.
They'd made their way into some thicker forest, but were able to follow their quarry.
The place was slick, from the rain, because it hadn't all dried, so it made it slippery and treacherous going here and there.
They finally came upon what appeared to be a clearing in the woods, like they'd broken out, and it was civilized once again. It looked to be a rather run down estate. From the state of disrepair, it wasn't used very recently.
Though they could see the smoke rising to the sky, as they approached, so it had to be lived in.
"Stop! Michael.." the man called to the first one. "You don't understand." He sounded upset, and scared.
"You're NOT Martin!" The person they'd all been following screamed at him.
They were close enough to hear, but the other two people were so wrapped up in what they were bickering about, their presence went unnoticed.
The counter in Janis's hand was going bonkers, she turned it off.
"You have to let me help you." Martin said, stepping closer. "I'll explain everything, just give me a minute."
"No. You're possessed by a worm. I saw it enter you." Michael's voice was wavering.
The clouds passed the face of the moon, lighting up the space like a huge halogen lamp.
Gunner gasped, and pointed. "That's him..the man who threatened me... and I know in my heart, he killed Jamesey..and maybe even those women."
Michael raised his hand, and there was a glint of metal. "YOU!" he screeched.
"Shhhh, please they'll come out." Martin warned.
"YOU!!!" he was talking about Gunner. "You are one of them!" He started to run towards her ranting and raving.
The other man turned, and his eyes glowed like a Goa'uld, which startled Janis so much she screamed high and shrill.
The door to the building opened and a slew of Jaffa rushed out armed with staff guns.
They saw the man rushing Gunner, and blasted him on sight.
"ENOUGH!" Martin bellowed. "Have these people taken to the cells, and see to the cabbie back on the main road."
The Jaffa stomped towards them, herding them into a circle.
When they were close enough, the team could see they had a marking on their foreheads, that they'd never seen yet. These were gold, copper and silver horns.
Gunner tried to run away, but got zatted, the closest guards slammed the butt of their staffs between Samuels and Apollo's shoulder blades, and then the back of the skull which floored them both. Janis just outright fainted.
*******CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: Waking The Witch
Dorian was the first to come too, he sat up, touched the back of his head gingerly. He had a huge knot. Janis and Gunner weren't in the room. As a matter of fact the only person in the room was Samuels who was face first in the dirt.
Those Ugly Snakes, had cleaned them out. They'd been stripped down, only left wearing their pants, shirts, and shoes. All their gear was gone.
He got up and walked over to the heavy wooden door. It had a square hole about face level, where there had once been a stained glass window, that was about the size of a legal pad on it's side.
Right now, he could see through it slightly. The rest of the room looked like it was a basement storage room. The floor was hard packed dirt.
He put his hands on the glass, wondering how secure it was placed, thinking he should just break it, and walk out. When he saw the blurred vision of a Jaffa, whack on the wooden door, He pulled his hand back suddenly.
Karl felt the back of his head, for the goose egg. It was huge.
He got to his feet in enough time to see Apollo pull his hand back from the stained glass. He was still rubbing the back of his head, Karl could see the huge knot, and knew that even though he didn't like him, that looked very painful.
"Time ya got up." Dorian sneered, rolling his eyes, crouching down in the corner, sitting on a section of dirt.
"You don't like me too much do you Apollo?" Samuels said.
"What was yer first clue?." Dorian admitted.
"You're going to keep your childish grudge aren't you?" Samuels said. He started to pace back in forth in their cell.
Of all the people to get stuck with, it was Apollo. They really couldn't' stand each other. He wished it been Lazaria, because at least then he wouldn't be worried half to death over her whereabouts. Though he was glad it wasn't Janis, Dorian was right, she cried too much.
"Pro'bly." Dorian was honest at least.
"You can trust.."Samuels started to say.
"You ta be true ta yor nature. Which means, you'll cover yor six, an forget about everyone else when it's not convenient." Dorian said.
"That's not true...Lazaria doesn't believe that." He said, trying to find something that would back up his point.
"Laz-ahr-ya huh? Ain't dat quaint, use on a foirst name basis?" Dorian shrugged, "Not dat I don't tink she's a nice skirt, but ya shuddn't go aroun' puttin too much stock in what she tinks. Dis is da same gal who believes in unicorns, elves, an odder tings only she can see too."
Dorian shook his head and chuckled to himself. "She'd give Bennidict Arnold anudder shot ta redeem himself."
"No, she said." Karl started.
"Da same tings she does ta anyone down on dere luck, dat she tinks needs a pep talk. Yer makin her sound like a Saint..or like ya got a ting for her. Either way, lemme make it clear. Gunner is da Base Chaplain. It's her job ta be forgiving, an give everyone a second chance." Dorian hugged his knees to himself, he was getting a chill from the floor.
"But me, I ain't no Chaplain, so's far as I'm consoined, yer still da guy who wanted ta ditch all us woikin stiffs, just ta save yer neck." Dorian finished.
"You're a real hard case, aren't you Apollo. Have a smart alec comment for everyone and every situation." Karl shot him a disgusted look, "Let me tell you, she's not just treating me like any random member of her flock. And she's not some person who's acting like just because of the way a person's reacted once, that they're forever doomed to be some stereotypical washout."
Dorian shook his head, "Careful Samuels, yer gonna get me all choked up an den we're gonna hafta sing Kumbaya."
"Apollo you're entitled to your own uniformed opinion. I just don't have to agree with it, or with your actions. I just know that half of our team is missing, and you're winning personality isn't going to bring them back, so do you have a plan or do you just plan on sitting around griping about my personality?"
"Well I was gonna move on ta yer looks, dat five a'clock shadow is too 80's Miami Vice. I can't woik wit a guy wit dat much facial hair. It's unsettlin ta my fashion sense." Dorian shared.
Dorian watched Samuels pace back and forth nervously. Then watched him drop to his knees, and look under the door. "I can only see one guard."
"Yer really worried about Janis an Gunner?" Dorian asked, he stood again to stretch his legs.
"I'm sure they can take care of themselves.." Karl said, his voice betraying how uncertain he was.
"Well Janis, probly can't, but if she cries hard enough, she could probly make a raft an float ta safety." Dorian cracked.
Durians' sense of humor caught Karl off guard, and he actually snickered. "Yeah, she does tend to spring into tears at the drop of a hat."
He paced, "What about Lazaria?"
"Why ya ole dog, is dat genu-wine concern I hear in yer voice..does she know yer sweet on her?" Dorian chided him, realizing he shouldn't have gone there, when Samuels shot him the evil eye.
"She's small and frail...and a Chaplain. I don't care about her talents as an Anthropologist."
"Arkyologist." Dorian corrected, just watching Samuels, with amusement.
"Whatever." Samuels waved his hand, "The point being. The Jaffa could be harming both of the scientists on this team. And here we are playing Felix and Oscar." He kicked the wall in anger.
"As a matter of fact." Samuels had worked himself up now, and got right up in Dorian's face. "I don't care what you're past opinions or problems were with me. I can promise you one thing, if you don't start working with me, you're one hundred percent right. I am going to leave you behind. So you'd better think of a way for us to get our team mates back. Because I'm not staying here another twenty four hours."
Dorian gave him a gentle but firm push, "Foist, never put yer finger in my face again, no matter what point yer tryin to make, or I'll break it. Secondly," He gave Karl one of those guy pats on the shoulder, "Welcome to da team...it's about time ya stepped up to da plate."
"Jaffa Kree." They heard from the other side of the door, then it clicked, and they saw that Martin person they'd followed step into the room.
"Jaffa mil'an tanka." Martin ordered and the Jaffa guard popped off for a java break or something, Dorian wasn't sure.
Martin walked over to the door, and certain they were gone, turned to both of them, "Tau'ri, you cannot stay here. You must leave."
"Not with out our companion..s" Dorian caught the fact that he nearly forgot to make it plural, which made him wonder which person he wanted to be let go. Janis because she could get them home, or Gunner because she looked like a Christmas tree in that green dress.
"I can't help them." He replied.
"Look Martin, ya can help, ya juss don't wanna...side's what's a Jaffa like you doin helpin some Tau'ri like us." Dorian asked, not bothering to play stupid, definitely forgoing the 'we're just scared humans' act.
"I am no Jaffa, foolish Tau'ri." He corrected Dorian.
"Who do you serve?" Karl asked.
*******CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: Three For Tea
"Wake the Tau'ri." The System Lord was tired of the Tau'ri being so fragile. She longed for the good old days, when they were sturdy and obedient slaves. Not these weak beings who broke every time she played with them.
She had two fine female specimens. She'd had them bathed, and clothed then placed into her sarcophagus.
Right now they were both on a bed of fragrant pillows.
Her eunuch peeled another grape and placed into his Goddess's mouth.
Gunner had actually been awake since she was pulled from the sarcophagus, but was still trying to formulate a plan. She was laying on her stomach, looking through her hair at her surroundings.
She saw that Martin guy come into the room, and check she and Janis over. She felt like a million dollars, and wondered what the stay in the sarcophagus would mean.
She knew it fixed things. She secretly hoped it gave her straighter teeth, and had made her as tall as Sam. She was tired of being the littlest one. Though it did help out. Because whenever she was on digs, she could fit into more places than the grown men, and even most of the other women.
"I believe they will suit your purposes My Queen." He bowed deeply.
"They'd better. The last lot were useless. How can I build an army to rally against Ra, if they keep letting themselves be disposed of? Are you certain that Ashrak was disposed of?"
"Yes, he will not interfere with your new Hau'tauri My Empress." Martin bowed deeply.
"Good. You're dismissed," She waved her hand at Martin, who left the room.
Janis woke with a start.
"Oh you decided to join us my pet." Her voice dripped with honeyed insincerity.
"Who the heck are you? And where's the rest of my friends?" Janis demanded with the boldness that fear instills.
"I am Your Queen, the one who makes you Hau'tauri, vessels of life, as only Your Goddess Bat can." she said huffily. "You are not allowed any more questions Tau'ri."
"There's no such thing..you're an imposter. You're just a parasite!" Janis protested.
Bat raised her hand, her ribbon device glowed, as the energy ripples oozed across the room, transfixing her. "Kegalo!" Bat snapped, "Say it. I am your Goddess."
Janis wasn't used to being tortured, and the pain over ruled her defiance, "You're my Goddess. I'm sorry..please..stop..it hurts.." she blurted, in obvious pain. It took some self control, for Gunner not to interfere.
Bat lowered her hand, and Janis slumped backwards. "Much better my Ha'shak pet."
Bat was dressed in a sheer gauze gown, and a lot of jewelry. She had very long black hair, that was done in many tiny intricate braids. She had mesmerizing gray eyes, and a rich chocolaty complexion, that reminded Gunner of David Bowies, beautiful wife, that model Iman.
Bat took a beautiful golden entwined cobra cuff off of her left upper forearm and slithered over to Janis' side, and slid it onto Janis's bare arm.
From where she was, Gunner could see the arm cuff, pierce Janis's arm, when Bat snapped it into place. As soon as it closed, she saw the two snakes glow like a Goa'uld's eyes, as the slithered animatedly around like a horizontal double helix.
Janis let out a sudden scream, then passed out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: Okra who?
"My name is." Martin started, but his answer was cut off by a very loud wail.
"What was that?" Dorian and Samuels, both looked worried and stepped closer to Martin.
"The beginning of the end. Bat has found two more vessels to continue her experiments with." Martin said a touch of concern in his voice.
"Why are ya so keen ta help us, but not our lady friends." Dorian asked, not trusting this person offering them freedom.
"Because I can help you, I can't get to them. Bat will not let these ones out of her sight. The others, were all murdered by an Ashrak." Martin responded. The Goa'uld voice, not tinting his speaking.
"Michael?" Dorian asked, Martin nodded. "I noticed yer Goa'uld ain't usin yer voice, lettin ya talk on yer own..da only kinda Goa'uld I ever heard a dat let's a guy use his own voice is a Tok'ra."
Martins' eyes flashed as his Goa'uld took control of his body once more.
"What does a lowly Tau'ri such as yourself, know of these matters?" he demanded, his hand drawing his Zat gun.
"Dat we're Tok'ra's allys where I come from. An dat if use really gonna help us, ya'll help all four a us get ta a Stargate so's we can get home, but not b'for ya help us git Bat offa our planet."
Martin backed up. "I know no such thing as a Tok'ra, you are lying."
"Look, fine don't help us, turn us loose, we're still going to get our friends back, and get rid of Bat. Just give us some weapons and tell us where they are." Samuels said anxiously.
"You Tau'ri are serious." Martin replied astonished, the both nodded.
"Hurry," Karl pleaded, wishing he could make this hopeful Ally move faster. "Before Bat injures our Friends anymore."
*******CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: I Can See Our Escape From Here
Gunner stopped playing possum to check out Janis, "What did you do to her?" She asked worriedly, noting the four trickles of blood dripping down Janis's arm.
"Nothing that will not improve her, my feisty pet." Bat looked at her new diminutive plaything.
Sitting up Gunner was able to take in her surroundings. It was nicer on the inside, than it was the outside. It was a huge ballroom.
There was a Stargate at the end of the room. "What's that?" she looked intrigued, even though secretly she was doing a mental Snoopy Dance.
"Oh but you are an observant little thing." Bat cooed.
"It's beautiful." Gunner got up, forgetting about Janis for the time being. She decided she'd see if Bat would let her walk towards it.
Gunner stood, and was about to take a step towards the Stargate, when she got whacked in the gut by the nearest Jaffa, so hard, she was knocked back onto the couch full of pillows. "Stay." He barked, his face inches away from hers trying to intimidate her.
She lashed her hand out, scratching him like a cat, on the cheek. Then cringed when he swore at her in Goa'uld.
Bat laughed at the whole exchange. "I like a feisty pet. Jaffa Kree."
She slithered over to Gunner's side, and took her hand, and drew her to her feet.
"Come, I'll show you." She walked, letting Gunner walk beside her to the Stargate. Gunner was keeping a mental list. Stargate, Good..Egyptian System Lord, Bad...Janis, Here, but not sure if she was doing good.. Dorian and Samuels, not sure where they were, bad. Room full of seven Jaffa. Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.
Bat walked them past a huge mirrored wall, that was on their left. Turning her head, Gunner saw she was dressed in a shimmery gauzy shift.
She gasped and blushed. She knew full well she didn't like wearing that Grinch Green Dress, so she was certain, she didn't like wearing the kitchen curtains any better. They left her hair long and flowing, though they'd twined some sort of flowers into it. She looked like Tatianna the Faerie Queen.
She felt like a temple priestess, but hoped that no one would notice her lack of any substantial clothing. She really wished she had a really comfortable solid, floor length, black cassock on this very instant.
Bat pulled a huge white drop cloth off a table, and to Gunner's pleasure, it was the DHD. "It's so pretty. What do they do?"
Bat pressed the DHD, and Gunner was relieved to see the console light up, and the Stargate dial spin as it was dialed. It worked.
"The Chappa'ai is a magical gate to the rest of your destiny, if you continue to be an entertaining and interesting pet." Bat told her.
Then she remembered she was supposed to be some technologically naive Victorian woman, she swooned, for effect, and heard Bat laugh repeatedly.
She ordered a Jaffa to come pick her up, and made him carry her over to where Bat was sitting on a very lush settee, then let the Jaffa place her on the settee, her head on Bat's thigh.
She played with her hair. Gunner found it soothing like when she was little and got head aches and Kym's grandmother Mae Ling would run her fingers through it, until the pain subsided.
She opened her eyes. Maybe this was a nice Goa'uld. She had a hysterical laughing fit inside her mind. Her eyes fluttered open.
"Where are they from." Gunner sat up, making sure to play up the fragile, weak part for Bat's benefit.
"You are a very inquisitive Tau'ri. Don't those magical things frighten you?" Bat asked.
Gunner nodded. "I still want to know where they come from."
"I had it made, at the place you call Egypt." Bat lied smoothly. "But I had my Jaffa bring it here because it pleased me."
*******CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: Let's Work Together
"How'd Bat get here?" Dorian asked Martin. They were on their way to get weapons, but were taking the long way, just to make sure they wouldn't run across anymore Jaffa..
"Ra didn't like Bat, or her Sister Hathor, so he had them both incarcerated in special sarcophagi. I know that Hathor got sent to what you call, Me." Martin started.
"..xico..we know dat. I'm tellin ya, we're on yer side..ya jus have ta believe us." Dorian said. His left fist smarted. That Jaffa Guard had come back when they were all talking, about not escaping without Janis and Gunner.
So he'd had to sucker punch him. They'd bound and gagged him, leaving him in the cell, when they left. Closing the door behind themselves.
"You were going to tell us what your name was." Samuels prompted.
"Yes. My name is Selmac. My host is Martin." Dorian smacked him on the arm.
"Ya see. Ya do know about da Tok'ra." He leaned into him and winked.
"We're gonna help ya clip Bat, all's we need are Zat Guns...an we sorta need some help gittin back ta our time." Dorian told him.
Samuels was floored. It was like Apollo had no concept of a secret, he was ready to strangle the man.
"How'd ya end up like dis?" The last Dorian had heard, Selmac had been inside of a woman host, and then had left her body for Jacob Carter.
"If you must know," The symbiote had given control back over to the host.
"We were a part of Abu Bagoushehs' Archaeological team." The man looked very worried, and rushed. They were walking across the field behind the dilapidated house towards the woods again.
"The others had left for the next site, there were only five of us left behind, finishing up with our excavation mapping and sketches, when Michael excitedly came to get me. They'd come across a sarcophagus, the likes we'd never seen before." He pushed some branches out of their way.
Karl could see more rubble here and there, as they came across broken headstones. They were in a family graveyard.
"We were too excited to telegraph for Abu Bagousheh, and wanted to open it. Which we did. To our amazement, after a strange fog lifted an exquisitely perfect Nubian woman emerged from the sarcophagus." He gulped again. "We thought perhaps it was a joke, but it wasn't. She had this mystique, that mesmerized us all. There was also a snake in her hand. Before I knew it. She'd thrust it into me. It was Selmac."
His eyes flashed like headlights in the dark forest, as Selmac took control, "I had been her First Prime, she kept me with her while she was in the sarcophagus, I needed a host immediately. Once Martin new my predicament, he agreed to let me reside within him."
Selmac pushed things around, and used a key from his pocket to open the large stone mausoleum. "She quickly took over the rest of my hosts Tau'ri team. And convinced them to covertly unearth, the Stargate and DHD, which she had brought here."
"It has ta go back Selmac...ya don't undastand. We ain't from dis time. Look, we're from 2004 see. An dat Stargate ain't supposed ta show up till sometime in da 1920's. If it ain't put back, den our Timeline is gonna be messed up Royal." Dorian cut to the chase.
"Tau'ri I just can not afford you the shadow of a doubt." Selmac told them.
"Whadda we gotta do? We can only tell ya so much, we can't afford ta mess up yer timeline." Dorian was starting to feel exasperated.
"Use that Tok'ra Lie Testing Device on us." Samuels told him.
Selmac looked at him. "I do not have one, but I can modify a piece of equipment I have to do just that. It will be painful though."
"Dis is some place ta stash a Teltak." Dorian commented, impressed by it's size, it almost didn't fit inside the Mausoleum.
Samuels shoved Selmac, who tripped, and grabbed his Zat gun. "We're going to borrow your Teltak. Dispose of Bat, thwarting whatever plan she's concocted. Rescue our friends. And then we're going to get that Stargate and DHD buried where they're going to be found in about thirty years. Then you're going to take us Off World to the Nearest Gate, and Send us Home. Then I'm going to get a good bowl of clam chowder, and I'm going to watch the Jazz - Pistons Basketball game."
Selmac looked at Samuels incredulously, "There was no need for your actions Tau'ri."
"Samuels. My name is Samuels, Selmac." Karl informed him. "This is my Tau'ri team mate Dorian Apollo. Now, are you going to help us or not?" He raised the Zat gun.
"Ya can't whack da Tok'ra leader." Dorian was worried Samuels was going to take his new found Team Spirit too far.
"I will assist you. If you were not our Ally, you wouldn't know so much and you would not have let us live." Selmac seemed satisfied finally. "Follow, I will show you the weapons room."
"Where'd our stuff get put?" Dorian asked, still impressed with Samuels take charge attitude. Maybe Gunner's pep talk really did the trick.
"We brought it here, we were going to destroy it." Selmac informed them.
Dorian looked relieved, because it was one less thing they had to try and find before they left this place.
"Wha'dya mean, when ya said Bat had plans for our friends?" Dorian remembered to ask, as he went over to his pack, and yanked out his own Zat gun. Then delved into Gunner's pack, and pulled out her Zat Gun from a side pocket. Which he looped on his waistband.
Selmac looked at them both, "Bat is a true Goa'uld Queen Mother."
"Ain't dey all." Dorian said. Grabbing himself a nice looking Jaffa Staff, giving it an experimental twirl, getting used to it's heft in his hands.
Selmac continued, "Bat is capable of spawning symbiotes. To be precise, she herself is unable. She is capable of making Hau'tauri, who are in turn able to spawn symbiotes."
"Like Hathor?" Karl asked, alarm in his voice.
"Similar." Selmac changed into his armor.
"What is a Hau'tauri? I don't understand how she makes humans into symbiote spawning factories." Samuels floundered for a better word to use.
"Hau'tauri, is a." Selmac thought. "Tauri that has been altered genetically."
"Dat doesn't sound to good." Dorian's eyes flicked over to Samuels who started to look green around the gills.
"It never is." Selmac got his chest plate over his head, "Bat possesses Les'val technology. It appears to be an ordinary adornment. Which she wears on her upper arms. When she wishes to create a Hau'tauri Spawner she simply removes her Les'val Cuff, and places it on her intendeds upper arm. When the four diodes pierce the hosts flesh, the Host gets injected with serum that is produced in Bat's body. The serum is made of DNA mutating Nanites, and micro symbiote larve. Upon entering the Host's bloodstream, the Nanites and larve incubate, until the host is over run with fledgling symbiotes."
"Who's she pick for Hosts?" Dorian asked Selmac.
"Bat favors females, because she identifies with the way many have been excluded from power. The way Ra, tried to exclude she and her Sister. As a result she had her Jaffa, choose this planets most downtrodden, to bless with her dark gift."
"What becomes of the host?" Samuels looked like he was going to hurl on the Teltak wall.
"They are consumed by the process." Selmac snapped his gauntlet on.
"What was Michael Doing, you called him an Ashrak?" Samuels asked suddenly, he didn't want to think about loosing anyone else on his team, especially Lazaria.
Selmac looked at them, "Michael was schizophrenic, his symbiote, only managed to accentuate and amplify his disorder. His illness gave him supremacy over his symbiote. He was driven to lunacy, and as a result he openly rebelled against Bat and her endeavors." Selmac shook his head sadly, "He stalked every one of her Hosts, for the past year, believing he was saving them, and your planet by destroying the larvae they were producing."
Selmac gave Samuels a Jaffa Staff, and took one for himself, he showed them how to work a Goa'uld staff.
"Michael would return here by the cover of darkness, and leave the mangled Les'val on the ground in front of the door, trying to taunt Bat. Trying to draw her into the open, where we could ambush her."
Selmac shook his head, "I believe he did the right thing. Though he carried out his plan in a twisted fashion. The Tau'ri would not know what to do if they were over run by Goa'uld right now. They are so primitive."
"Has any Hau'tauri been able ta survive dat process?" Dorian asked.
"Not that I know of." Selmac shook his head, sliding his helmet on.
*******CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: What's A Nice Girl Like You, Doin In A Place
"Where are our friends." Gunner asked innocently.
"Being entertained in a different location." Bat replied. Janis moaned as she came too again. She looked alright. She sat up slowly.
"Amuse me pet. Dance with Rel'at." The eunuch stepped forward, and waited for Gunner who rose, and placed a hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand.
Rel'at was only a new recruit Gunner could tell because he was doing a very simple, but graceful waltz.
They danced for quite awhile. Bat even had Gunner sing, while they were dancing. It seemed to amuse her. But it was only making Gunner incredibly thirsty.
Her bare feet padded on the cold marble, she was very cold. It'd be a miracle if she ever got to feel warm again. She missed the jungles of Angkor Watt.
It was in the middle of a spin, that it occurred to Gunner, her hand didn't hurt anymore, nor did she feel feverish. She wasn't stupid, she knew they must have plopped her into a Sarcophagus. Injuries, don't just disappear for nothing.
Perhaps this was her silver lining. Janis had started to weep again.
Gunner felt bad she was scared, but there was nothing she could do about it really. She really hoped if they all made it back home, she wouldn't be stuck going on a mission with Janis, anytime in the near future.
Finally Bat had enough of Janis's behavior and had one of the Jaffa escort her from the ballroom. Gunner watched Janis struggle, and sob begging not to be sent away. The Jaffa, slammed his staff into the middle of her back, which knocked the fight out of her. He half carried, half marched her from the room.
Janis felt miserable. Her arm felt pinched, she felt whoosie. Her head hurt. She was tired, cold and hungry, and Gunner wasn't doing anything but playing around and having a grand old time. She really hated her right now.
Dorian and Samuels were missing. She was scared they'd been killed like that strange man who'd started to rush towards them on the lawn.
And now some creepy guy was marching her barefoot down the hall and to a wooden door with pretty stained glass in it.
He unlocked the door and shoved her in, she tripped over a body, nearly landing on her face. She scrambled to her knees, the gauzy shift ripping, and cowered into the wall.
The Jaffa was just about to leave, but the sight of the Jaffa who was supposed to be guarding the prisoners, passed out cold on the ground of the cell, caught his attention.
He'd just leaned down, just to make sure it wasn't a Tau'ri trick, when he noticed the Hau'tauri's eyes get huge.
A Zat in the 6 from Dorian, kept the guy from raising the alarm.
Janis rushed past Samuels, and threw herself theatrically into Dorian's arms, shivering and sobbing, "I thought you were both dead."
Dorian now considered Janis a prime candidate for valium, and duct tape. And hoped she'd stop hanging on him because it was awfully annoying.
He realized she wasn't being creepy, and really was just thankful to see them both, because she hugged Samuels next, but immediately cringed when she saw Selmac, and hid behind Dorian. "He's one of them."
Fear tinged her voice, as she shook.
"He's wit us Cupcake." Janis blushed. She'd heard that if you worked long enough with Dorian, he'd come up with some sort of a nickname for you.
Samuels, pushed her aside, so he could go into the room, "Where's Lazaria?"
"Careful Samuels, we might tink ya actually like us." Dorian winked at him.
"Sumtin looks different about ya..didja get your hair cut?" Dorian joked trying to make Janis feel less self conscious. He saw a tapestry hangin on the wall, and casually ripped the little thing down, shook the dust out and let her wear it like a cape.
"Gunner's in that ballroom. I can show you where it is. I was just there." Janis offered helpfully. "It's up the stairs, and to the left."
"I am familiar with the room's location." Selmac reminded her. "Come."
The three men, were very aware of the Les'val Armband Janis was wearing.
*******CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: Oh My Own Les'val..Does This Mean We're Goin Steady?
Bat had enough, she was getting bored. She wanted to get back to working on amassing her new Tau'ri Army to overthrow the rest of the System Lords.
Ra in particular. She loathed the air he breathed, for having discarded she and Hathor the way he'd done. She would have her revenge.
"Enough, Come Pet." She beckoned to Gunner, who not only ignored her, she stood behind the Eunuch.
She didn't like the way Bat said that, it made her skin crawl.
"I said COME." Bat raised her hand, and Gunner saw the ruby crystal of her ribbon device glow, her Jaffa shield, darted to the left, leaving her there by herself, to feel as though she was trapped in a spiders web.
Bat watched her pet, stand her ground. "Come!" she applied more to the ribbon device.
Gunner started to recite the Buddhist mantra Mae Ling taught her, trying to loose herself in it. She felt her heart start to pound.
Bat was astounded. She'd not seen such a strong pet before. She wasn't certain if she was impressed or perturbed at the beasts insolence.
She used the ribbon device at it's highest setting, and watched in fascination as her Tau'ri started to hemorrhage from her nostril, then suddenly buckle, and rush forward, falling on her knees at her feet.
"Much better." Bat cooed, lowering her hand, breaking her torturous command, feeling Gunners forehead slump against her knee. "Always obey your Queen, or know that you will suffer her wrath."
"Yes...I won't forget." Gunner panted, pinching her nose. Bat snapped her fingers and the eunuch wiped the blood from Gunners' upper lip.
"Now. For you to fulfill your destiny." Bat said, taking the double twined cobra armband off her right arm.
"I don't want to be stuck with those My Queen." Gunner said, nervously. She didn't really have to pretend at all, she really was nervous. She didn't like the idea of getting skewered multiple times, anywhere, and especially in her upper arm.
It would be like a nightmare quadruple allergy shot, that didn't end.
"Continue to amuse me, and you won't have to serve as my Hau'tauri long. If you please me, I shall let you become my new Handmaiden." She ran her hand down the side of Gunners cheek, brushing her hair from her eyes.
Gunner backed away from her, but Bat was too fast, and had her by her wrist. "No..really. I don't want too." she protested.
"Do not be difficult. I warn you for the last time pet." Bat wasn't joking, but Gunner was starting to feel panicked. By now Gunner was standing, tugging on her arm, she squiggled, and managed to get it free, only to run smack into two Jaffa who each held an arm.
She turned and sank her teeth into the guards arm on her left, which only got her hair pulled, and bodily hefted off her feet. She started to struggle, but still the Jaffa over powered her, and Bat, laughed watching the ludicrous proceeding.
She had one of the Jaffa, secure her arm, and snapped the Les'val Armband onto her upper arm.
Gunner felt her flesh searing, as if whatever Bat had just placed onto her was boiling her blood. Her hold body convulsed, and she let loose with a spine tingling shriek from the blinding pain.
The adrenaline from her struggle, was the only thing that kept her from passing out. She let loose with a torrent of horribly curses. And they weren't swear words. They were actual 'may you suffer a plague of locusts' sort of babbled curses. She felt froth at the corner of her mouth.
*******CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: Hail, Hail, The Gang's All Here
"I don't remember if it's left or right." Janis had paused for a moment.
They all jumped when they heard Gunner let loose with a blood curdling scream.
Karl felt his blood turn to ice, and broke into a run down the hall, the others mobilized into action following him, going in the direction of Gunner's voice.
They were to the hall in less than five minutes, peeking in, they could see seven Jaffa, Bat on the couch laughing. and two Jaffa holding Gunner up.
The Jaffa released her, she dropped to her feet, unsteadily weaving like she was on drugs or drunk, "What did you do to me?" Gunner demanded. "Fix it..pleash." Her word was slurred.
The serum was coursing through Gunner's blood stream even faster than it had in Janis, because Gunner was so panicked. She could tell something was wrong, even though she couldn't put her finger on it, and didn't know how to fix it.
Karl wanted to slaughter every enemy agent in the room, for making Lazaria scream like that.
Though he got momentarily distracted at the actual sight of Lazaria.
He had no idea she was so well proportioned and toned. Her everyday clothing masked her quite ample, but athletic form. Seeing her in that shimmery, white gauzy shift that whispered engagingly over her skin, each time she moved, wasn't what he'd been prepared for. Though he should have been, come to think of it, because Dr. Pearl was in something similar. Though it definitely didn't have the same effect on him.
The only thing that drew his attention away from how becoming she looked, were the four rivulets of blood that flowed down her right arm. She looked like she was having a problem standing. She clawed at her armband, trying to get it off, but didn't have any luck.
She staggered into one of the Jaffa, then slid down him, landing with a very loud splat onto her arm. It looked accidentally, but she'd hoped it would crack the armband, and that it would fall off. But nothing happened, she only succeeded in bringing tears to her eyes.
Bat laughed, "Poor Hau'tauri, you damage yourself, by your actions. Do not fight the process, and it will be finished, and you may be my handmaid."
Gunner hauled herself back up to her feet, and managed to trip directly into another Jaffa. Part of this wasn't an act. Her motor skills truely were suffering. She had to do something fast, or else she'd be useless.
The Jaffa Lazaria fell into, dropped his weapon, in order to brace her so she wouldn't fall again.
The Staff weapon was on the arch of her left foot. Soon as he let her go, she kicked out with her left foot, which threw the staff into the air, she grasped it with both her hands by the middle of the staff, lunged it left, then right, connecting with two different Jaffa's middles. The spun it about, with her finger on the trigger, and blasted the Jaffa in front of her. He crumpled to the floor.
Dorian took that moment to storm into the fray and start dealing his own damage, he caught two Jaffa off guard, just Zatting them three times in rapid succession from behind.
Bat raised her voice, "Jaffa!" no one heard the rest of what she ordered, as she let them make a shield in front of her.
Samuels got whacked by a Staff weapon behind the knee, which dropped him down to his knees, so he lifted his staff weapon hard and fast between the attacking Jaffa's legs. Pivoting on his knee, so that he was facing his attacker, who had just doubled over, and letting loose with a volley of Staff blasts.
Janis cowered in the hallway, trying to get the nerve up to shoot her Zat gun at least, but couldn't muster up enough nerve.
There was another piercing shriek, they saw two Jaffa guarding Bat, who was in a corner, and one Jaffa had hefted Lazaria back off her feet.
Bat was trying to make a swift escape, with the last three Jaffa, and Gunner as a hostage.
She was thrashing again, trying to throw them off balance. He got to close to the wall which gave her enough leverage to spring off of with her legs, and slam the Jaffa into the other wall.
Selmac snuck up behind him, and used his staff to trip the Jaffa, which sent them both falling backwards. Gunner elbowed him in the throat and scrambled off him, the Jaffa's Zat gun in her hand, though she letting Selmac shoot him.
She was having a problem standing, and was leaning against the wall.
Both of the Jaffa, rushed Dorian and Samuels. While Bat left for the Stargate.
Gunner woozily followed after her, prepared to stop her.
Bat did something to her ribbon device, then swiped it over the Stargate which started to shimmer.
Gunner raised her Zat gun, "Stop." she was just about to fire, when Bat's eyes glowed, and she heard Bat's voice in her head. Bat raised her ribbon device, and Gunner felt the Zat gun fall onto the ground. It sounded so loud clanking the way it did on the cold marble floor. She just didn't understand why no one else heard this, and wasn't trying to stop her.
Bat stood there, looking at Gunner. "You will be sorry Hau'tauri."
Gunner willed herself to do something, and again, she felt blood trickle across her upper lip, from her left nostril. Bat walked away from her, and through the Stargate. Leaving Gunner feeling foolish and weak.
It was as if the spell was broken, Gunner turned slowly to see the rest of the room. Selmac had just raised his Zat gun, and a Jaffa had kicked it out of his hand. It slid across the floor. And then both dove after it.
There was the sound of a Zat, then neither of them moved. After a few seconds Selmac moved away, and the Jaffa slumped over.
Gunner felt she was being stared at, she turned slowly and met Janis's gaze. They both knew they saw the whole thing, and that they'd both let Bat get away, and had been helpless over the fact, and didn't know why.
Selmac, rose, then when around getting rid of the Jaffa corpses. Gunner walked back towards the team. Slowly trying to shuffle first one, then the other foot in front of each other. Finding the entire act too difficult. The feeling of the cellular restructuring starting to drain her energy.
She started to collapse, but didn't thwap onto the floor again this time because Samuels was right beside her, and managed to catch her in his arms. Her hair cascaded over his forearm.
"Permission to faint denied." Samuels informed her.
"Sorry I lost your Sweatshirt Sir..it's freezing." Gunner confessed. "I feel like I got a tattoo I didn't ask for." Some of the blood on her forearm, soaked into the cuff of his shirt.
"Are there more Jaffa?" He asked Selmac.
"No. We disposed of them all. All of Bat's experiments have been destroyed. Except." Dorian elbowed Selmac.
"We know..how da we fix dat?" Dorian asked. Really not looking forward to having to dispose of Janis and Gunner.
Janis came in, "If we get these armbands off, would we be fixed if we went through the sarcophagus?
"Possibly." Selmac admitted, basically saying it was a long shot, but anything was worth trying.
"Then take them off of us." Janis said, coming in.
The adrenaline high left Gunner's system, and she passed out, in the middle of telling Samuels, gibberish.
*******CHAPTER FORTY: Follow The Yellow Brick Road
Dorian was happy, that with Selmac's help, they'd been able to load the Stargate and DHD into his Teltak. They waited until it was nightfall, and then secreted both pieces back to the Egypt, and reburied them where they'd be safe and sound until they were supposed to be discovered in their timeline.
At least they hoped it would still be discovered, and that their timeline would remain intact. They had no way of knowing, until they could get back.
Though the four of them made a pact.
The Teltak had an okay medical room, but they didn't have anything advanced enough in it, that they could use to get the armbands off of Janis and Gunner who were good sports about the whole thing.
Even if they didn't know the alternative, might be death, they were still trying to be helpful, and come up with ideas.
"How did the Ashrak, get them off the other Hau'tauri?" Gunner asked, she was pretty sure she wasn't going to like the answer, but asked anyway.
She and Janis were quarantined for the time being. They'd already brought forth two dozen symbiotes. Which they'd zatted.
Selmac looked at the ground, "When the Host is dead, the Les'val Armband will fall off."
"Alright. We can't go back like this. We're a liability. Do it." Gunner said simply. Janis was crying. She hadn't been able to stop, and nodded.
"I don't want to be the end of mankind." she shook her head.
"No. There's another way." Samuels insisted. Worried they'd take things into their own hands, Dorian had them sedated and restrained.
"I am going to take us to a planet, that has a working Stargate." Selmac informed them. "I know there are some Tok'ra devices that can help them. I just do not have any way of getting to them, until I can reunite with the rest of the Tok'ra. I am very sorry."
"It's okay Selmac. Juss, get us home an we can get our Medics ta do sumthin." Dorian said.
Every twelve hours, they had to play target practice with symbiotes. It took two days of travel to get to the planet with a working Stargate that Selmac was talking about.
"How are we goin ta get home?" Dorian asked. "We can't juss dial, or we'll end up in Egypt."
Samuels had liberated Gunners' note book, and was busy scribbling notes. "Yeah, you're right Dorian. We can't. But what we can do. The way I figure it. Is run some cables from the warp drive of this Tel'tak," he was pointing to the sketch, "to this chevron." Dorian nodded. "Then when Selmac guns the motor so to speak. It'll make up for the adjustment. And."
Dorian nodded. "Yeah, I get it..the way, we can travel faster den light, we just make allowances fer da light years, an Selmac just shoots for dat speed. Which should correlate ta dat chevron, which theoretically controls time. So it's like pickin da settin on a time machine."
Samuels was impressed, he didn't expect Dorian to grasp the concept, let alone understand it the first time he told him about it.
"Yeah, that's it exactly. I just have to run it past Selmac." Karl chewed on Gunners pen, scratched out a number, and replaced it with another. Did some long hand equations, just to triple check, "Yeah, this is good. I hope he had a clue, and that this works."
They waited until they knew they had at least a ten hour window. And heavily sedated Janis, and Gunner. Selmac agreed that Samuels plan should work. The attached the cables, and dialed. Sending through their GDO Signal and waiting for a decent amount of time, for the SGA to have received it and opened the Iris for them.
Dorian went to pick up Gunner, but he felt Samuels, hand on his shoulder.
He turned to look at him, Samuels shook his head, and hitched his thumb at Janis, "She's your pal. Lemme do this." Karl shrugged. One passed out person, was just the same to him as any other passed out person.
He grabbed Janis like a sack of potatoes and hefted her up. She was on the heavy side of dead weight, he was about to tell Samuels he only wanted him to carry Janis because he didn't have enough upper body strength.
But he caught Samuels, carefully arranging her clothing, and talking to her soothingly, "Don't worry. We're almost home. I'll make sure the best doctors look after you. You won't end up like Ginger."
They'd been so busy, they hadn't thought of letting them change their clothes. So they were still in those strange gauzy dresses.
Gunner had joked that they'd made her feel so Maria Von Trappish, because she felt like she was wearing kitchen curtains.
Dorian watched Samuels, carefully place his arm under Gunners head, then catch her hair, and drape it over the front of her so it wouldn't drag on the floor. Then slip his other arm under her knees, and gently pick her up. Talking to her the entire time.
'Ya know she's passed out an can't hear ya..right?" Dorian teased him.
"You don't know that." Samuels said defensively.
"Yes I do, I sedated 'em both. Dey ain't in no coma." Dorian replied.
"Don't start. We're almost home." Samuels replied testily.
They both took their partners and walked through the gate. At least Karl was too worried over Lazaria's well being this time, so he didn't panic over going through the Stargate.
*******CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: Look Who's Knocking
Walter saw the gate gear up due to an off world activation.
This was strange, Siller had only just this second called up to tell him that he'd gotten the gate functional.
Davis hits the alarms, calling Hammond, while he informed everyone, "Unscheduled gate activation."
"I thought it was broken still." Hammond asked. "I'll be right there."
Hammond set down his tuna sandwich, and beat feet down the hall.
The Stargate had been down for two hours, and he hadn't got any news to say it was up and running again.
Hammond walked into the gate room, hearing him proclaim, "Incoming traveller, It's the Tok'ra sir."
Hammond nodded, "Open the Iris son."
As soon as the Iris was opened, a earthy toned figure came through the shimmering puddle. Hammond walked down into the Gate Room to meet his friend. As soon as he stepped through, the shimmering puddle disappeared, and Walter closed the Iris.
"Jacob. Good to see you." Hammond would have shook his friends hand, but Jacob had a very odd looking piece of equipment in his hands. "What's going on?"
"We've come to assist your Off World Team, Hammond of Texas." Selmac replied.
"It took us a very long time, to build something that would release the Host, but leave the Host intact." Selmac explained, which really only confused Hammond more.
"I'm sorry Selmac, I'm not sure I understand." Hammond was perplexed But that was nothing new when dealing with the cryptic Tok'ra.
Walter saw the gate gear up due to another off world activation.
Walter hit the intercom, informing Hammond of the obvious,"Another Unscheduled gate activation."
"Sir," Walter sounded confused, "Incoming traveler, They're using Apollo's SG Teams GDO Sir."
Hammond nodded, "Open the Iris."
Walter did as he was told, and out walked Dorian Apollo, carrying a woman, next came Samuels, carrying another woman, which he protectively cradled to his chest.
"We need medics, we have a Medical Emergency!" Samuels proclaimed first and foremost.
Dorian nudged Samuels, "What year is it?"
"2004 why What year do you think it is?" One of the Medics who rushed out with two stretchers replied.
This didn't look like the team he just sent through. Not one iota. Apollo looked like the Ring Master of a very strange Off World Circus, and Samuels looked like an Undertaker. They both had too much facial hair, and looked too unkept for having only been Off World for two hours. George only recognized Dr. Pearl, because of her very short haircut.
"What happened?" Hammond demanded, "Where are Dr. Morrison and Rev. Gunner?"
Dorian placed Janis onto the stretcher, but Samuels was being stubborn. He was determined to bring Lazaria to the Exam room himself. And he wasn't planning on leaving until they were able to get that horrible alien device off her.
Dorian on the other hand was more than happy to have been able to finally gotten rid of Janis. But hoped that she'd be alright, she couldn't help it that she was basically not cut out to lead a soldiers life.
He handed Hammond Dr. Morrison's dog tag, and leaned towards him, his voice lowered, "There was an off world incident, he won't be returning Sir."
Selmac walked over to Hammond and Dorian. "It is good to see you again Apollo." He held up the strange piece of equipment. "I told you we would find something that could help."
"You need to go in for an immediate examination." Hammond informed Dorian. Following his team into Sickbay.
*******CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: There's No Place Like Home
George was stunned to see the transformation that had taken place in Lt. Col. Karl Samuels.
He'd been a horrible, cost cutting, power hungry fool, who'd thought that abandoning any off world team was a viable option, at the start of this mission.
But upon his return, he'd turned into a person so concerned with the welfare of his team mate he had to be sedated, and physically removed from the room, so that the doctors could even run his physical on him.
Dorian had brought him up to date, literally, over the fact that they'd been sent back to 1888.
Selmac had stayed over twelve hours, assisting their base doctors to remove the Les'val Armbands from Janis and Gunner, and then administering them the antidote, that would help destroy the larvae parasites, that were in their bloodstream.
They were kept sedated for the most part, because the 'detox' stages were very painful.
Karl sat at her side, quite a bit, she sounded rather delirious not and then, due to the heavy dosed of medication. He felt his heart sink because she frequently asked for Walter Davis, their Gate Technician.
He didn't know what she'd want with that geek, and he had a growing urge to slap him on principle. He wasn't the one that rushed into a room of Jaffa. Or the one who gave her his sweatshirt, or started a fire for her.
She murmured his name in her slumber again, it was too much for his ego to take, he stalked out for something from the vending machine.
They were kept under a three day observation. And weren't released until their blood tests came back clean. Well, as clean as they were going to get.
She and Janis weren't lucid for much of the three days, but when they were, they were mostly grilled by the doctors.
Karl had come by to check in on Lazaria again, before his trip back to Area 51. But when he got there, he saw Walter Davis sitting on in the chair he had at the side of her bed.
He was leaning close to her, their fingers were laced, as he tenderly held her hand.
Karl wished he could feel the reassuring weight of his Zat in his holster. Letting Davis had it had definite appeal, he rolled that concept around in his mind passionately.
That'd sound really interesting. "Now that I offed your boyfriend, how about we go to the Opera, I know you like music."
That wouldn't go over. It would also get him court marshaled.
Even Area 51 Lt. Colonels weren't allowed to get rid of guys who sweet talked women they liked.
Though he was sneaky enough he could do it, and no one would even know.
But Lazaria was a little too attentive, she might notice, if her bevy of male suitors kept going MIA.
Karl rolled his eyes, Davis was nearly as tall as she was.
He had to do something to keep his mind off the couple, so he picked up her chart that was outside of the door, and read it.
'Healthy..check. Underweight..check. Slightly Anemic from the process.. Check. Oh, this was interesting,' his finger slid over the notation, 'By the time they were finished with their treatments, they carried traces as if they'd been temporary hosts. Just like Carter did due to hosting Jolinar.'
He glanced up just in time to see Davis stand up, lean over the bed and hug her tightly. Karl slipped the clipboard back onto it's hook, and hid on the other side of the corner.
The door opened. "Yeah, I do..thanks." He heard the midget say. Davis blew his nose, then walked off in the opposite direction, nodding as he passed Gen. Hammond.
Karl stepped back into the hallway, looking in the window, wondering if he should go in, or just leave, to catch his flight. He heard the sound of dress shoes on the hallway floor, and tried to nonchalantly duck back around the corner.
George had just looked in on Dr. Pearl, and was going over to look in on Rev. Gunner , when he caught a familiar figure trying to duck down the hall.
"You could go in, she might like the company Samuels." George said, to the man he was certain was waiting just around the corner, because he hadn't heard his foot falls echo, the way they did when someone was going down the hall.
"Not like she was able to get any. It's not something the base is privy to. Not even her family was informed. Three days with only Doctors to talk to, and her CO to debrief. I'm certain is fairly lonely." George walked Karl come around the corner, abandoning the pretense of having left.
"You shouldn't have sent me George." Karl turned to face him he wasn't livid like he had been to start with. But he was still very upset. "We both know I had no business going Off World with any team. I was a liability."
"Son. If it weren't for you, Apollo, Dr. Pearl and Rev. Gunner wouldn't have made it back at all. Not a one of them knew that sort of technical aerodynamics theory you knew about from all your work over at Area 51." George gave Samuels a reassuring pat on the arm. "They have you're quick thinking and formulas to thank. I think you were right where you were supposed to be."
"You not only stayed by your team mates side, you brought everyone you were humanly able to home. You saved the Earth from being turned into Bat's Spawing Ground for Symbiotes. You brought back Dr. Pearl and Rev. Gunner. And because of their illness, you even supplied the SGA with some experimental symbiote larvae to study. And because of your first contact with Selmac in 1888, that enabled us to become Ally's with them, when Jacob Carter became Selmac's Host. You've come a long way Samuels." He pat him on the arm again, "You've finally done exactly what I was talking about. You stood alongside your fellow Operatives and protected our Earth from the Enemy."
"As a matter of fact, I liked your work so much, I had you assigned to us on a permanent loan. Welcome to the SGA Lt. Col. Samuels." George shook the stunned man's hand. "By the way, black orchids."
"What?" Everything happened so fast, he wasn't sure what George meant by that.
"Gunner. When you go to visit. She really likes Black Orchids. Good night." George smiled at him, and left Samuels standing in the hall all by himself letting everything sink in.
FI NU
To Learn More about these real places/inventions/people, or things:
..About Jack The Ripper, Mary 'Ginger' Kelly, Mr. McCarty, Whitechappel:
http://www.casebook.org
..About Felix Hoffmann: The German Scientist who synthesized aspirin:
http://www.chemheritage.org/EducationalServices/pharm/asp/fh.htm
..About Kodak inventor George Eastman, (Camera & Film) that were invented this year:
http://www.kodak.com/US/en/corp/aboutKodak/kodakHistory/eastman.shtml
..Flinders Petrie: Join AHU Yahoo! Groups: http://groups.yahoo.com
And read the Text File "Who was Abu Bagousheh" that is located in the File> Different Disciplines> Wo.Men Who Make It Possible.
...Bat-The Egyptian Fertility Goddess:
http://www3.sympatico.ca/chartreuse/AvatarsOfTheGoddess/EgyptBCDEFG.htm
*******COMING SOON*******
#2 in the Exciting SG-Legacy Series: Who Are These Cretans?
SUMMARY: Hammond, having seen a change in Lt. Col. Karl Samuels has pulled strings, and made Karl a permanent SGA Team Member. Join our motley SG Team, see if they finally make it to Minoas to save the MIA Dr. Janet Frazier, and if they'll make it in time to save the planets inhabitants from The Evil Goa'uld Queen Kebechet & her consort the Pharaoh Aker's diabolical plans.
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