Oh For Crying Out Loud!
Glorfirien
Summary: "The female mind is honestly a complex and disturbing place...then again...if I'm able to discern the female thought process...I'm unsettling myself. Stoppit O'Neill!" Sequel to Why Me? SG-1/SM Crossover
No Spoilers for Season 10. Mention of Season 9 and preceding seasons.
Disclaimer: (Which is the wonderful work of another author. It seems to be as official as one can get so thanks to that person who helps us newbies sound all official-like) The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and back story are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
Here's a fun fact that I, intellectually realized yet never actually knew: Jails suck.
I am, or at least I was, a respectable young adult. I didn't drink, party or do drugs. I drove like an old granny and was reclusive to the point of being a hermit. This is not the sort of character who becomes arrested and spends time in jail.
It seems that a lot of things change after you are instantaneously transported to another plane of existence, have to deal with fictional characters and start hearing voices. Voices that make sense.
…I went off on a tangent. Again. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. Hmm I wonder why? A desperate attempt to escape from the twisted plot which has become my sick reality?
Jack is scrutinizing me from across the rather small room. I'm trying to ignore him and concentrate on letting as little of myself actually touch the filthy cell.
That's right, the people with the sharp and pointy spears dragged us away without a word and dumped us into this dungeon. Separate cells. Probably to protect my "virtue".
Jack still hasn't said a word.
He continues to look at me with those eyes.
Creepy.
"Tell me where we are."
He speaks!
"I don't know."
"What do you know?"
I sigh. I can't not tell him the truth. I'm probably going to need his help. But is he going to believe me?
…Hmmm interplanetary wormholes, alien parasites, cloning, and Lord knows what else.
Stupid question.
"What I know? Less than a month ago I knew what was real and what was fantasy. Now? All I know is that there are no certainties with the exception of the Lord." I stopped to regroup my thoughts and because I knew that I was coming off as some kind of nut. I'm pretty sure that Jack is not a man who has an overabundance of faith.
"Before you ever knew or became affiliated with anything about the Stargate your life was life…it made sense. And then your perception changes. The universe is definitely not what you thought and all you can do is try and stay afloat. That's me Jack. Only so much worse because at least you got some spiel about technology and science and how an advanced race created the Stargate. All I get is a whooshing feeling before I'm standing in my pajamas in front of the gate room and armed personnel flood the room. No warning before I become a fixture in a reality that is nothing but a television show in my own world!"
I shut my eyes and control my breathing. God, explanations take so much out of me. I should start handing out pamphlets. It'd make everything so much easier. I almost giggle at my inane thoughts.
"You expect me to believe that you're some random teenager that got whisked away from some average life into another reality and are not actually insane?"
I give him one of those looks that has a lot of meaning. Only don't ask me what kind because it can't be explained, most communication is body language after all, "And your life makes so much more sense."
He shrugs, "Point. I suppose that it makes as much sense as anything else in my life."
"None at all you mean?"
"Exactly."
I believed her.
I didn't exactly trust her.
She was keeping something from me and some things were too coincidental but seeing as how we were imprisoned and she was just a kid I wouldn't push, yet. I felt she was close to some kind of break down.
Getting us out alive and relatively unharmed was going to be hard enough without her becoming deranged.
So, I need to get her mind off of things. I need her to trust me. Can't ask about anything that will remind her of home.
Only leaves one thing.
It's only a coincidence that the information is important to me. Really.
"So what's been going on at the SGC?"
OtherMe made General.
He was also frozen.
Idiot.
Jacob's dead.
The team's split up.
Goa'uld are pretty much beat.
Except for Ba'al.
Asshole.
New enemy: The Ori.
What a cluster-fuck.
"So you really have no idea where we are?" I questioned.
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and looked very tired.
Poor kid.
"I've been struggling. Wondering whether I should tell you…I don't want you to think I'm insane. I need your help and if you think I'm bonkers…on the other hand if you found out without me telling you you'd get angry and offended. So…please. Believe me?" she entreated earnestly.
Damn me and my soft spot.
I nodded.
She took a deep breath.
"I've been hearing voices," she paused to see my reaction.
I gave her none and she continued in a fast paced babble.
"Well just one voice which I named Sara. She told me that she was appointed as some kind of guide. She's been telling me stuff. She's the one who told me that I was chosen for some kind of purpose. I fulfilled it at the SGC then she said it was time to move on and listening to her plan I navigated my escape from the SGC. Then pretty much everything that followed led up to meeting you."
What can someone say to that?
A normal and average person would stare in disbelief and call the men with straightjackets.
Someone from the SGC would take the information with a grain of salt.
A member of SG-1 would take it in stride.
Once a Scooby always a Scooby. (1)
"I'll definitely give you more than the benefit of a doubt. After all you escaped from the SGC and eluded capture. That requires nigh on psychic abilities. That still doesn't answer why we, as in you and me, are here. Wherever here is. Can't Sara give you any info?"
She bit her lip and stared into space.
"She's not answering. She hasn't before like when I wanted to ask when Nerus was going to double-cross the SGC and how. Last thing she told me was that I was on my own for awhile because she'd given me so much help that interfered with free will."
I couldn't help but make a sound of disgust.
She tilted her head in curious inquiry.
"It's always about interfering and free will with these higher beings. Sure they'll play with us like chess pieces when it suits them and their plans but when we need help they bail and tell us we're on our own."
"I swear I'm in a crappy fanfic," I heard her mutter.
"Care to explain?" I questioned somewhat politely.
She made a face, "The way I see it if nothing is impossible then everything is possible."
She glares at my Gee really? face and continues, "All the fiction in any world: stories, books, movies whatever occur someplace else. Which means that right now, someone is either writing or reading about, maybe actually even watching, us."
"How pathetic are they if they have to turn to us for entertainment?" I smirk.
She grins, "And, is the author creating us or just getting some psychic echo of us and our situation? The former is rather disturbing. This kind of thinking really makes my head hurt. It's interesting but really abstract for my puny human brain."
Ahh self-deprecation; she's stolen my tactic.
She frowned. "Isn't it rather suspicious that I didn't get "transported" until I was with you? And me finding your dog? Then bumping into you in the park? Fishy fishy. Seems as if whoever is pulling the strings in this whacked out story wants us as partners."
She was no Sam Carter but the girl was pretty sharp.
"The only thing," she continued, "is that I still haven't been able to figure out just why I was chosen. I mean you're an obvious choice."
I quirk an eyebrow, urging her to elaborate.
"You have the knowledge of an experienced and capable officer in your head and the deceptive body of an inexperienced youth. You also have a way of stepping in shit and ending up smelling like a rose. Your rate of survival alone is a testament to your competence," she enumerated.
Ego boosts are all well and good but this girl is a bit too informed.
"Just how much did these television episodes mirror my reality? And how much do you know?" I question.
She blushes.
"From what I can tell the episodes were pretty much one hundred percent accurate. While they didn't illustrate all the day to day details we had the most interesting of SG-1's missions available for our viewing pleasure. And well…"
She grins devilishly, mischief that I am well acquainted with gleaming brightly in her eyes.
"Stargate: SG-1 is pretty damn famous. I mean, like ten hours a week sometimes. There are webrings and fan sites. There are freaking conventions and an official website! The show has won lots of Sci-Fi awards and they're like on their ninth season and I know that season ten is a definite thing."
"Fan sites? Conventions?" I question with curiosity.
"Oh yeah. I mean some people are total fans."
She paused in contemplation then sighed in resignation.
"You have your own damn fan fiction archive. There's also your damn Wikipedia entry and the definition in UrbanDictionary. Is the significance of this getting through to you? I mean you're pretty much the only person I've told all of this to. All the others only know about the show not exactly how successful it is. Daniel was bowled over by the amount of female and male fans that I hinted he had accumulated."
I could see why I would take her under my wing. The girl was devious.
"Okay. Let's forget about that for awhile. You can inflate my ego later. Just why do you think that the Powers That Live to Screw Us Over chose you?" I ask.
"That's just it," she bursts out in a loud voice, "I don't! I'm a normal freshman student. I'm a nerd and somewhat of a sci-fi and fantasy lover but it's not as if I'm some kind of warrior or genius! I'm a slacker who loves The Lord of the Rings! What kind of higher being would choose me of all people for tasks that are supposed to affect the balance between good and evil?" she asks with disgusted confusion.
"Even the smallest person can change the course of the future," I intoned with faux-sobriety. (2)
Her What the? expression broke and was replaced by relieved laughter.
Her mirth subsided, "What have you been up to?"
"Let me guess, the clone isn't important enough to merit more than an episode?" I remark sarcastically.
"Hey you've still got a fan base and besides I'd thought you'd be happy; you're not under the scrutiny of thousands of people. Now answer the question."
Well well well, she caught my effort at changing the subject and deflecting her attention. Impressive. Though I think its efficiency is lowered substantially by the fact that I'm a damned teenager.
"I finished high school, dodged recruiters and went to college."
She rolled her eyes as teenagers are wont to do.
Yes, even me. I picked up the habit through repeated exposure to teenagers and patronizing adults.
She looked as if she were in deep thought.
Then she blinked, cursed and settled on a worried frown.
"Problem?" I questioned.
She started in surprised as if she had forgotten all about my presence.
I'm hurt.
"Sara," was all the explanation she gave.
"Well? Are we in this together or not? What's got you in a tizzy?"
First, we were not in this together. I was trying to keep this kid alive. Second, had I actually said tizzy?!
"She was scolding me because I told you about her. She also advised that we get our story straight before the knights in shining armor come to interrogate us. She wouldn't tell me where we've ended up and she's abandoned me, us, for the duration of our time here. Ain't life grand?" she muttered to herself sardonically.
The possibly imaginary voice has a point.
"So we have to concoct some kind of story that won't get us killed for being evil witches." I remark caustically.
She bit her lip, uncertainty obvious through her body language.
"The thing is that we don't know where or when we are. We could be in a place where magic or whatever is actually the norm. With our luck we probably did land somewhere where superstition is rampant. So what? Are you going to be my new brother? My cousin?"
I shook my head, "Faking that kind of relationship is too easy to spot. All they'd have to do is separate us and ask us questions then compare the answers. The room where we appeared, the head honcho, the weapons and the style of clothing all suggest a medieval society. Likely they're not going to look kindly on a girl your age alone with an unrelated male."
"And we can't pretend to be related…what about a bodyguard? I was going to visit family and my father hired you and some other guys to take me. The problem is that we don't know the names of any cities or villages. Or why we ended up appearing instantaneously in front of them."
She makes good points. Points that I've already considered.
"Oh and if we ever get back to your reality I won't tell Daniel that you've obviously been listening to some of his speeches 'the weapons and the style of clothing all suggest a medieval society'" she mocks my words and speech teasingly before continuing, "You play the obtuse military guy well."
I give her my completely clueless who-me?-What-are-you-talking-about? look.
Her rejoinder is a skeptical who-the-hell-do-you-think-you're-fooling-'cuz-it-sure-isn't-me look.
Now I'm really starting to believe her explanation. I may be out of practice but there's no way that she could have seen through me that quickly. if at all, under normal circumstances.
"So is that how we're going to play it? I'm the spoilt brat with the 'why would I give a damn about some insignificant guard' persona and you're the dutiful soldier all 'I don't give a rat's ass about the girl I just do as I'm told'. Is that it?"
I shake my head to hide my amusement.
"You could probably get away with a lot if you try the spoiled-air-headed-bimbo-damsel-in-distress routine. They'll underestimate you."
She scrunched her face in distaste but nodded in agreement.
"Does this mean you'll be playing the surly-overconfident-and-totally-out-of-his-depth youth?" She smirked.
Hot damn this girl must have been an O'Neill in another life; or reality.
She turned away from me, "Guess the play starts now."
We abstained from any further speech.
Gah, my mental vocabulary is way too advanced.
One skill I haven't lost is the sixth sense for waking up as unknowns approach you.
By the time the cell had been opened I was awake and regarding my captors with thinly veiled suspicion and hostility.
Which is a good thing because I was able to maintain the façade and not show the disbelieving amusement that I was feeling.
Wouldn't do good to show any weakness.
The cause of my incredulity was the fact that the pair of men who obvious led the standardized lackeys were…well for lack of a better (read: demeaning and totally humiliating) term, pretty-boys.
I have not turned gay.
But previous exposure to Cassie has allowed me to recognize pansy boys. I knew with complete certainty that if Cassie had been here we'd need a mop for the drool.
Personally, I don't think they're all that impressive.
The serious one looked like an albino with pale skin that looked as if he hadn't ever seen the sun (which girls would probably call porcelain; the female mind is honestly a complex and disturbing place…then again…if I'm actually able to discern the female thought process…I'm unsettling myself. Stoppit O'Neill!) his hair was white, yes white, though he was obviously not old and his eyes were a steely gray color. He was tall and well built like a football player.
His friend was built more like a runner, slim but muscled. His posture screamed confidence which probably meant that he was a ladies man. He was a blond with bright blue eyes. This guy could probably give Daniel a run for his money in the female department if he were ever set loose on the SGC.
A pair of guards entered my cell.
"You are coming with me," Frosty stated.
Notice the 'you' and the 'me'.
"I won't leave her without my protection!" I blustered.
Blondie frowned, "Are you insinuating that we would stoop low enough to dishonor a woman?"
"I don't know you! If you touch a hair on her head you will regret it!" I purposely shouted, honestly how loud does this conversation have to get before she wakes up?
"Good morning," her voice cut through the conversation the husky tone produced by her previous slumbering state.
"Good morning my lady," Blondie fairly purred.
I glared.
Frosty shook his head in what I assumed was disgust or annoyance but it might have been amusement or disbelief for all I know.
"You are both to be questioned. You will come with me," he addressed me, "Jadeite will stay and question her but I have the only key to the cell. Is this agreeable?"
I heard Cindy's intake of breath but didn't turn because that would mark its importance if anyone else caught it.
I tried to judge the man in front of me.
The question was not a question.
He didn't give a damn whether I thought it was acceptable or not. It was a way to do this the easy way without having the guards drag me the whole way.
I suppose that I have to trust that the guy. Hopefully, if he thinks that I'm gullible he'll let something slip.
"It is."
He makes a motion and the cell is opened. I step out and am instantly flanked by two flunkies. I manage a cautionary look aimed at my companion before I'm led away.
My biggest worry is that she'll fall for the seducing stunt that Blondie's going to pull and spill something she shouldn't.
She'd better not.
And it all goes to hell.
There's a reason I was never a spy.
At least I put in a request for the recovery of the damned dog.
Judging by the look on her face as I'm led back to the cell she didn't do much better.
"How bad is it?" I asked.
She scrunched up her face (not a good look for her).
"Oh and I suppose it went so much better for you?" she snapped.
I waited patiently.
"He was all flirty! I couldn't help it!" she whined.
I shook my head in disgust.
Teenagers.
"I mean you'd laugh too! The lines he was using! My god are women really that desperate for male attention?"
Or not.
"Waitaminute! Tell me what happened. Exactly." I ordered.
"You first." she challenged.
"I asked first."
"I asked second."
"Exactly."
"It's all relative!"
"Just tell me!"
"Okay. General Jadeite in all his Lordly importance introduced himself and proceeded to act like a smarmy perv. Saying how sorry he was that such 'a delicate and lovely flower had to be subjected to such dreary conditions' and would I care to spill my guts so that he could help me. It'd be such a help to him and he so wanted to have the honor of taking me from such a distressing situation. Jesus Christ! I couldn't help but laugh. It was just too damned silly. I swear the expression on his face too! Then he got all huffy and insulted and declared that I was obviously no lady and clearly out of my wits before he stalked off in a strop."
I was having a hard time keeping the smirk off my own face. It was just too easy to picture the self assured pretty boy being shot down by the mischief maker across from me.
"Now. You tell," she turned expectant eyes on me.
I grimaced (probably not a good look for me).
"Probably think I'm treasonous or something. Couldn't water down the sarcasm."
She snickered.
Cheeky brat.
"But you know where we are now right?" I questioned.
She shot me an incredulous look.
"How the…oh whatever. Yeah. For some unfathomable reason we're in a freaking anime/manga during a time that hasn't really been the focus of the damn show. Sailor fucking Moon can you believe it? Teenage girls in short skirts fighting evil that I stopped watching in middle school. If I have this timed right we're currently on Earth under the custody of the Royal Family. Knew that guy looked familiar."
Inquiring tilt of the head.
"From the throne room. Not the king the other guy. All tall dark and kinda pretty. Psh supposed to be the ideal Prince Charming. Glad I got over his type quick. What I don't get is why we're here!" she groaned.
We both froze at the sound of screams and battle that suddenly reached our hearing.
"Well that's not good." I commented.
"Unless we get free and away in the fracas." she chirped happily but I saw the nervous fear she tried to hide.
"You can't do anything," she said.
I suppose she saw what I'd been trying to hide too.
People were screaming and my instincts were too. I always ran to trouble not away from it but my companion, it seemed, was obviously not used to that.
Besides, I didn't exactly know the score and I'd probably get my self killed attacking the wrong person. So, really not my war.
"S'too bad these aren't half-pin barrel hinges," she muttered as she checked the cell doors ineffectually.
Huh?
She grinned at me, "With the right leverage and the proper application of strength the door will lift free."(3)
At my totally non-plussed expression she started to giggle.
Somewhat hysterically.
Which is when I heard the scrabbling that heralded an approach.
I would have laughed at the look on her face if I wasn't sure that I looked just as slack-jawed and stupid.
"Is that…?" sheer disbelief had made me mute and I could only nod.
Ineffectual since she wasn't even look at me.
He started at us expectantly.
After a few moments he seemed…annoyed? Exasperated?
Oh what the hell it's probably not the weirdest thing I remember seeing.
"C'mere Homer. Bring me the keys." (4)
I grinned as he came closer and dumped the keys into my waiting grasp.
Success!
"Did the dog…oh just…no…Thank you Homer. Can we leave now before rabbits start leading us down rabbit holes?" she questioned as I unlocked our doors.
"After you milady," I mocked.
She made one of those teenage sounds which convey an enormous amount of feelings. Mostly disgust, annoyance, disbelief and scorn. It's a very versatile sound.
"Now which way?" she questioned.
A good question considering we had no idea how to get where we wanted to be. Mainly away from here.
A question that was answered as Homer did a passable recreation of the girl's snort and after displaying how little he thought of us trotted off.
"Did he just?"
"Yup."
"But he's…"
"Uh-huh."
"That's…"
"Not so much."
"Are we…"
"Insane? Yes. Hallucinating? Probably not."
"Oh."
"Ditto."
"Well. If we're insane…follow that dog!"
"Insane. Not weird!"
She didn't say anything since it was obvious she was putting her full effort into running.
Up a long flight of stairs, towards the sounds of fighting; screams and shouts, metal on metal on flesh. Turn a corner, leaving the massacre behind, groans and dying gasps fading.
Homer waited at a door.
I took an odd sense of pleasure, knowing that he couldn't open doors, before turning the knob.
And immediately throwing a sign meaning "Stop and shut the hell up". I realized, too late, that my companion wasn't military.
There was Prince Charming as she had identified him dueling with, and I can't even believe this is possible, an even more feminine blond.
Prince Charming was losing. I could tell his head wasn't in the game. He was holding back.
"ZOICITE!" I didn't jump. Nope. Not me.
The two combatants leaped away from each other and turned to the idiot the person who had made the noise.
"You are a fricken idiot! I can't believe you bastards actually betrayed your Prince! Your planet! Your people!"
"You know nothing, little bitch. He has betrayed us! Sullied us by consorting with that lunarian whore!"
"Oh and bowing to that vapid and bitter slut is so much better? Pathetic!"
Blondie growled which was when the other guy decided to attack.
A few quick moves and he was down for the count.
"Thank you," he said, though his attention was on his fallen opponent.
"Prince Endymion, you must go. The full assault is concentrated on the Moon. You must save her," I could only stare at the girl in disbelief. What the hell was she playing at?
"How do you know this? Any of this?"
"That doesn't matter! She needs you!"
And with that he was off, cape flapping behind him.
I saw a lot of things in her expression.
"Guess I know why we're here now," she muttered.
"Enlighten me," I drawled as I grabbed her hand and started pulling her away from the unconscious psycho.
"I needed to get the guy to go to his death. He has to go and protect his princess and die in the attempt. She pulls a Juliet and her Mom decides the reincarnate the lot of them. Got it?" she snapped out fiercely.
"You're a catalyst," I stated.
Her wide-eyed stare of denied comprehension made me elaborate.
"You're the grain of sand. The straw that broke the camel's back. The flap of the butterfly's wing that cause the storm. The smallest of actions that ripples throughout events," I stopped abruptly and I knew that my own face has the same what-the-hell expressions that hers did.
"How…when the hell did you become a damned poet?"
"That's not poetry," I pointed out.
She shot me another look but didn't say anything more.
"So what? I'm the mover and the shaker? I play behind the scenes and change things to fit the whim of someone else? That's effed up."
I can't help but agree.
"Do you hear that?" I question.
She frowns, "Is that…growling?"
She looks sick (and I honestly hope I don't) as misshapen things occupy the hall in front of us.
"Run!" I shout and pull her along as I turn and do a runner.
Only to find a pissed looking blond blocking our escape.
Well, shit.
"Where is he?" he hissed like a cat with a nasty hairball.
"Zoicite! There's no time for this. He went to Serenity. The Queen calls us to her side," A brunet steps through to head the monsters behind us. I move, trying to keep the both of them in my line of sight and Cindy behind me. Not easy or completely possible.
"I'll be along in awhile," Let's just say I wasn't liking the guy's tone or the way his evil eye was concentrated on Cindy. And from the way she had my hand in a death-grip it was obvious she wasn't too happy about it either.
And me without a weapon.
"Get on with it," the brunet urged with boredom.
I wrenched my hand from her grip and silently thanked her for not hindering me by grabbing something else.
Zoicite approached with sword in hand and murder in his eyes.
"RUN!" I shouted a second after I run at Zoicite.
I grunted at the sharp blinding pain and didn't have to look down to see my middle pierced by the bastard's sword.
There's a scream, a whooshing in my ears and I'm staring into shocked blue eyes. Only a single thought before the pain in my gut gives way to the numb darkness.
'Of for cryin' out loud.'
End Oh For Cryin' Out Loud!
I said the sequel was coming. It juts took awhile. Most of it has been complete for awhile but about halfway through I hated it; I so didn't have a plot for more chapters. So I finished it off in one fell swoop. Just an intro for mini-Jack. There are future adventures. I'll get around to them. Eventually. So, Review. Is it up to my usual standards?
(1) BtVS, I've always thought Jack would be a fan. He and Xander are peas in a pod.
(2) Galadriel in LotR:FotR
(3)Pirates of the Carribean.
(4)Yeah, I was reading PotC fanfiction and then the dog just popped into my head. So,we got Homer back; and he's uber-Lassie!
Glorfirien