Summary: A series of ficlets inspired by various episodes in the Stargate universe. All of them have at least a hint of Jack/Sam ship, so be warned!
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not in the least. Sob…
This one is pretty random…that line of Jack's made me pause and rewind, and gave birth to this.
I. Seth—Hail Dorothy
She can't believe it, almost. She killed him. Killed him using a Goa'uld hand device. It scares her that she can do something like that, can kill with so little effort or thought—just a small application of will, that's all it took, and his spine was snapped in two, body driven into a deep crater in the floor. Like he was a child's doll, and she an adult who carelessly stepped on him. That's not what really scares her, though. What scares Sam is that, for a tiny millisecond, she enjoyed it. She enjoyed wielding that power, relished in the thought that, if she wished, she could kill the others in the tunnel behind her, or control them utterly like Seth had. For that brief moment, she was God…and for that brief moment, she saw why the Goa'uld liked it so much.
She hasn't said more than two words to the Colonel in the week since then, and she's been avoiding him as much as she can. She doesn't laugh at his jokes, doesn't sneak little glances at him and doesn't relish the way he looks at her like she used to. She doesn't deserve that right. She's tainted, and she imagines that if she did look at him, in his eyes she would see the deep loathing he gives to the System Lords, and all the Goa'uld. She's scared of him looking at her like that, because that's how she is looking at herself, and she couldn't bear it if she knew for sure that he shared the sentiment.
"Hail Dorothy." That's what he said, looking at her standing before Seth's crumpled body. Hail Dorothy. And he sounded sarcastic, and shocked, and Sam knows, just knows, that she wasn't imagining revulsion in there too. Hail Dorothy. Hail the destroyer, the killer, the little girl that just murdered a witch and enjoyed it. Maybe he was scared, she taunts herself. Punishment for her crime. Maybe he was afraid that she would turn, laugh and lift her hand and send that immense, powerful wave of energy at him, or Daniel. Maybe he thought that she would smile over him as his own spine cracked, surprisingly delicate, and her eyes would flash.
She feels sick now, but she can't stop from seeing him, Daniel, her father dead, and her as the one who killed them. Can't stop from seeing herself on a throne, disciples around her to cater to her every whim.
Hail Dorothy, indeed.
A bit depressing, I suppose. Ah well. Reviewers make me UNBELIEVABLY happy! And, if anyone has a moment that they want a ficlet for, I could always use ideas.