This is chapter one of a collection of stories about SG-1 members Daniel and Vala. (If you wish to skip on ahead to more original chapters, I won't be the least bit offended. They start with Chapter Six - Ceremony)

I have decided that no relationship can be truly understood without first understanding the little steps one takes at the beginning. No one knows if Daniel and Vala got together after the final episode of SG-1, we can merely speculate. Since they weren't trapped on a ship and—in a way—forced together by the powers that be, we can merely wonder at the collisional course that throws them together in the future, without the help of loneliness.

So, here is my take on the Daniel/Vala relationship. Here is what I believe about the characters, and how I see their futures colliding.

Enjoy!

X

It was a searing pain—unlike any she had ever felt before. Of course it would be; she was dying. The fire scorched her skin, taking strength from her ever-decreasing life. In her anguish, she screamed, crying out for alleviation. Why? Why was this happening to her? The question didn't even seem to matter, the pain was so great.

Daniel! Save me!

Above the crackling of the flames, she heard his voice. It was angry, desperate. Daniel! Save me! And then she was overcome, her body consumed by the hungry, eager fire. She could no longer hear him. The insanity was too much. Incomplete, incoherent thoughts screamed and beat against the inside of her skull. She let out an agonizing cry—her last.

And then darkness.

The cold of death buffeted over her like an icy wind. The pain immediately disappeared, and she was in blissful nothingness. She floated there, suspended in bondage, unable to escape the bitter cold, the despondent darkness. She had no feeling in her body; it was as if she had no body—perhaps she was a spirit. There was no way out, no room to breathe or move, and yet there seemed to be no end and no beginning to this new world. All was black, all was silent.

She didn't know how long the emptiness enslaved her, but a tingle in what she realized were her fingertips brought with it a light of hope. As the tingle spread to her shoulders, her chest, her nose, her toes, the emptiness took shape. Though her lungs still felt like iron weights and she couldn't seem to catch a breath, the feeling in her fingers became alive with warmth. Slowly—very slowly—life drifted back into her body. The warm, familiar sense of existence began to trickle into her. Her eyes still couldn't make anything out, but when the life finally brushed her stagnant heart and her lungs melted their iron exterior, she let her nose take in a breath of vital air. She was surprised at the urgency her body reacted to the intake of oxygen.

And still she couldn't see anything. Her mind was fuzzy, attempting to locate itself, putting nonsensical pictures in order. Eventually, she interpreted her lack of sight to the fact that her eyes were shut tight. The signal from brain to eyelids was tedious and slow, but the exhausting command was worth it.

Her eyes fluttered open. Disgruntled for a moment, she realized she was in someone's arms—his arms. She felt his touch on her back, her cheek was rested against arm. Visions flooded back. She didn't need to look around to remember what happened, but she did. Sitting up slowly, she brought her face up to his shoulder, scouring the scene around her and then brought her glance to his jaw. "Daniel?" How long had she been gone? A year? A century? Thus it seemed.

She smelled the smoke and the essence of burnt flesh in the air. He lifted his hand to brush against her cheek. She fluttered her gaze from his eyes to his shoulder, not seeming to be able to meet his blue stare for more than a second. His breath was warm and gentle on her face. "Are you okay?"

Instantly realizing the gravity of the situation, she began to shiver, the memory of death heavy on her mind. She nodded hesitantly. Was she okay?

She fell back into his arms, clutching him desperately. Painful memories continued to rattle her. She felt him close around her, willingly offering his comfort and warmth. He stroked her back and breathed in the smell of her hair.

She gasped. "I've got tingles all over," she gulped, her accent quivering with her voice. She could feel his hold tighten a tiny bit. "But don't flatter yourself. I'm pretty sure it's not you." As if to prove her point, a rather tremendous shiver raked through her body, and she clamped her eyes shut at a flash of memory of the pain and agony she'd just gone through. She laughed, as though her half-ass joke had actually been humorous, but then blinked back tears threatening to pour down her cheeks.

His head turned; she could tell because she could feel the stubble of his chin scratch an itch on the top of her head. "Thank you," he said. For the first time, she realized the presence of a tall, gray looking man wearing an impeccably long robe.

Not ready to calculate in her head what had really happened to her—simply feeling the need to be as far away from this place as she could get—she simply held on to Daniel's embrace.

"Thank the Ori," said the tall man sublimely. "Stand. You'll come with me," and he turned.

She felt Daniel's arms loosen a bit, and she couldn't help but desperately want to pull him right back to her. But the possibility of escape weighed heavy on her mind, and she sat up.
"I think he wants us to go with him," he breathed against her cheek. "Can you stand?"

He was always so gentle and thoughtful.

She nodded, still a little shaky. "If it means getting away from here."

She glanced in his eyes and saw the tenderness and will she needed to stand.

She leaned on him every step of the way, drawing needed strength from his strong, comforting arms. Her cheek found solace against his broad chest, and her arms held fast around him. The icy clutch of death was slowly retracting its grasp on her, and the warmth she derived from Daniel hastened its retreat.