Title: Things in Perspective
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Daniel/Vala
Disclaimer: I own nothing! Stargate, Vala, and Daniel are all Sony's playthings, and I don't own 'em!
Author's Note: Spurned from a D/V shipper's impulses, this is a shortie, an aside to what I have planned for the fic in my head, so enjoy!
Summary: she was like a plague he never wanted to be rid of, and when she was, all he ever wanted was to be infected again. (Ripple Effect spoilers)

His eyes were burning again, the corneas itching with every word he absorbed, and it wasn't before long that the glasses were lifted for another quick, ocular massage from his hand. Eyes rolling lazily in their sockets long enough for the whites to be seen, he groaned softly, shook his head once, twice, three times, then squinted, focusing on the words at hand.

They were words he had read at least twenty times already, with hardly any focus or success than the previous attempts. Over and over they circled in his mind with no meaning, frustrating him even more while he continued to squint at them.

There was just too much on his mind. No, wait, that wasn't right; not too much, just too much about a specific person...

He shrugged, shaking his head back and forth. No, he shouldn't be thinking of her. God, he had too much on his plate already; he didn't need to muddle it all up because of some seductive kleptomaniac who managed to somehow, worm her way into the one thing he never wanted anyone to get to, hadn't for a long time. He never wanted someone like her of all people to reach the depths of his heart in the way no other ever truly had since his wife.

Closing his eyes, Daniel leaned back in his desk chair, suddenly bone weary. What was happening to him? He lived on love and got burned so easily, let himself run purely on devotion to a woman and look what happened: her lifeless corpse was brought before him, bronzed green in death, her once lively eyes listless and glazed. Searching had done nothing but hastened her death, brought him into a position where he could not resist her soul, and drew him like a moth to the flame; opening himself up to his vulnerable heart and letting the damned snake inside of her tear it out of him. The ache he felt lacerated his soul, leaving a bleeding gash he was almost sure would never be filled. To cover his wounds he buried his nose in a book, in manuscripts, in artifacts that needed analyzing, needed sorting, needed SOMETHING, just as he did. Sha're killed him, emotionally, romantically, literally, and for awhile, he just existed.

He should've known better, should've avoided the moment when a vivacious young woman, with hair the smoothness of woven silk and ebony as the night, managed to capture his fancy.

Vala had changed his way of life, changed his soul, little by little. Unlike with Sha're, when they had a peaceful life in the calm before the storm, Daniel had the rare opportunity to play the hero, the white knight, the protector. He claimed the thief as his own in his own way, vowing to protect her, comfort her, be there for her when he could, no matter what she did or how severe. And in his own way, he provided her with a return as well; he kept her in line, gave her a purpose beyond the ways of the robber, and allowed her to be part of something bigger than herself. Alone, she was nothing, but as a part of his life, and a part of SG-1, no matter how brief...

...It made her worth something so much more. It made her priceless.

However, he let that treasure slip away like grains of Abydonian sand. She slipped away, away from him, their "life" together, and the world that she knew in order to protect him. How could he have let her do that? Why didn't he listen?

Her voice still haunted him through time and space, a torment that quickened his heart and shortened his breath. It pained him to think of her, alone and without him, somewhere in the universe; so much so that he often couldn't stand it. No one dared to approach him during his moodiness, when he commandeered a punching bag and wailed away at it until his knuckles bled. No one had the gumption to wake him when his nightmares manifested themselves at night, for fear he might lash out at the "followers" of the Ori.

Daniel never slept well, hadn't for months. The only sleep he managed to have was fitful at best, none at the worst.

Now, the divergence in the reality planes had made it that much more horrendous, where around every corner he was plagued by "what if's" and "if only's". More than once, he caught sight of a slender body seemingly molded to fit his double's perfectly, wrapped in a protective arm and a ring on her finger. She was still a loud, flirtatious vixen, still craved the sexual life Daniel rarely voiced but so often desired, but different versions all seemed to be the same: she'd toned herself down, her strengths played up and her dedication and loyalty more pronounced. She radiated the heat of desire and adoration, all directed at "him", and his own being thrummed with mutual feelings of affection.

When he saw Janet again, she had broken his dammed feelings when she noticed his longing eyes. At first, she was mildly surprised at his stubborn refusal of her; true, Vala was not his usual type, even though his knack for "snaked" women seemed to fit her into the category, but she prodded him to speak about her anyway. He denied everything, every bit of the feelings she could easily read, until she managed to ask the question he had tried to hard to avoid. "If you didn't feel the same way, then why did you let her stay with you, even after the effects of the bracelets wore off?"

Why had he? Before he knew it, everything spilled out, and he unburdened his soul from guilt. He spoke of her in ways he never knew existed in a variety of different languages, babbling more than he planned to and then some. He always trusted Janet, finding an easy kindred spirit in someone he still mourned for whenever he thought of her, and this Janet was no different than the one who left her life behind after she died.

They talked for what seemed like hours, however long it took for all the Carters and Martouf to figure a way out of the mess they were in, and although the melancholy and culpability he felt never lifted, he did feel better; he usually kept this sort of a thing to himself, so it was nice to share it with someone who understood.

And she did understand, because after they were done, she smiled at him and said as much. "Our Daniel feels the same way," she replied, taking one of his hands in both of hers. "He's still suffering the loss of his Vala."

"He is?" he had asked, astounded.

"Yes. How else did we find Avalon and met up with the Ori? But she was killed during their attempt to create the first BeachHead in our space. She never made it out of the al'kesh in time, I'm afraid." She grew somber, tears coming to her eyes. "You were heartbroken. It was Sha're all over again, only this time, it was worse. If Sha're killed you, Vala shattered you. We even had to lock you up so you wouldn't hurt yourself, or anyone else. I'd never seen you so tormented before..."

Daniel's breathing rasped, caught in his throat and dried it so fast he had to cough and swallow hard. "But I'm still there, still on the team. What changed my mind?"

"Vala, actually," she replied, a small smile crossing her face. "She left you a message on your video camera, telling you that if something were to ever happen to her, you should keep fighting, keep surviving, and keep hoping for the future. She said that wherever she was, you were her heart, and even with her body gone, she'd never completely leave this world until her heart died. She loved you so much, Daniel, and she was looking forward to seeing you again in the afterlife. Surprising, isn't it? That Vala would believe in that sort of a thing? But she did, and she said she'd wait for you to come find her."

She said she'd wait for you to come find her... she had said, and that line had been running through his head all day, causing the problems he dealt with now. He couldn't concentrate on anything since, no matter how hard he tried, and he was just about ready to give up when the phone rang.

"Yes?" he answered it, sighing softly with uneasy anxiety. However, it wasn't in the cards for him as the news he received made him bolt from his seat. "What! Alright, I'll have someone bring it down..."

Thirty minutes later, he stared at the small, hand-sized package in his hands, given to him by one of the airmen in charge of mail delivery above ground. A package? It was addressed to him in a long, flowing script that he'd never seen before, but instinctively knew in his heart that it was Vala's.

Heart bursting, he ripped open the brown packaging paper and practically flung the pen in his pocket against the wall in his haste. Quickly snatching it from midair, he clicked it open and ran it over the packaging tape, breaking the permeable seal with a few short strokes and replaced the pen where it went. Flinging open the side flaps, he gently lifted the slender bundle in his hand and began to unwrap it slowly, the semblance of a smile playing across his lips as soon as it was revealed.

Gold wire frames circled the glass in perfect ovals, the lenses scratch-free and from the looks of it, scratch-proof. A sticker on the front indicated their ability to change color whether you were inside and out, outside or in, in order to protect the eyes from UV rays.

He knew they were paid with his credit card; she'd persuaded him to take her shopping for their Washington trip, and he left her alone for two hours or so after he'd gone into a bookstore for a bit. Careless on his part, he knew, but considering that the escort, Sergeant Matthews, went with her, he didn't mind too much. Now he knew where she had gone, what she had bought, and why.

Along with her outfit, she bought him a replacement pair of glasses.

He was about to throw the box away when he noticed something sticking to the bottom of it. Curiously, his fingers pried it loose, unfolded it, and almost cried.

My Darling Daniel,

I hope these glasses will work: I took the broken ones with me so I could find out what kind you needed. I asked Matthews if they would work, if the ones that change color were better than the others, and she said yes. I know it's going to be billed to your credit card, but it's the thought that counts, right?

It's just a little something to remember me by. You know, in case I never see you again for quite some time. Not that I'd want that to happen (although you probably would), but you know what I mean.

Love,

Vala

Without knowing it, he unconsciously began to take his glasses off, and replaced them with the new ones, feeling his depression beginning to lift.

Yes, they would definitely work, and they brought many things into focus besides what was in front of him.

He'd find her. That was his new goal now, finding Vala; that, and maybe taking the advice of his other reality doubles: putting a ring on her finger so she wouldn't leave him again.

Finally, he had his priorities in order, and he liked it. Finally, things were in perspective in a way that made sense.

Damn it, he was in love with her, even though he denied it, and no matter what, he was going to find her, no matter how long it takes.

He'd find her. That was a promise.