A/N:The title is supposed to be More Minion, shorted to Mo'minion. Get it? Because there's more to the episode? Literally the hardest thing about writing this series is the titles.
As always if you'd like to see an episode expanded upon, feel free to let me know and I'll add it to the list.

Mo'minion

Chapter 1

A Good Plan is Hard to Find

"It's a bad idea." She's trailing him through the hallway. Doesn't know how this always happens, whether she waits to ambush him, or if this just comes naturally to her at this point.

He actually went home last night, to an apartment that looks almost as ancient as some of the artifacts in his lab. With the Ori invasion looming over them, claiming more planets each day, and their messed-up missions: the bungled first contact, the vendettas, her dad showing up to pull at her heart strings—and how he hated pushing her towards him, because he's read her file.

Didn't mean to read her file but it's been read and—they just needed a solution to the Adria problem, one they didn't have time to deal with.

Lately it always seems like when there's a problem no one's willing to solve, the easy solution is to just throw Vala at it.

Sacrifice her feelings, her body, her daughter—because on SGC official reports, she doesn't matter as much as the rest of them.

And he hates it.

"Daniel." She steps double time trying to keep up with him as he weaves down serpentine hallways he used to know better than her—until she was here more than a month and then he knows her late nights were spent breaking into places with an iron clad security clearance.

Breaking into places that even he doesn't have the authority to visit.

He used to give her words for it.

But then he read her file.

And now he supposes that that doesn't make him much better than her.

"At least tell me why it's such a bad idea." She smacks into the wall behind him, not so stealthy on her feet as she stumbles to keep up. The same way she runs blindly into his lab late at night, while he pretends to be skimming an Ancient text or cross-referencing gate addresses with ones they've already explored to try and find the Clava Thessara Inifinitas. Instead he's staring at a picture of his wife, and trying to remember the intonation of her voice, how she pronounced certain words, the way she smelled, and his mind leaving him with a huge gaping chasm, that no matter now much he researches, or reads, or explores, will never be filled.

"Oh, because it's been about three months since the last time your memory was wiped." Holds his coffee in one hand, weaving towards the gateroom, the conference room so they can discuss potential ideas on how to halt the invasion because the device he gave up his mind for, gave up his privacy and weeks of his life for, probably didn't work.

She sidesteps and then plants herself in front of him. No doubt well aware of the busy air men scattering around her, trying to do their daily duties while she stands akimbo, pigtails bouncing a bit and in one of those fatigue jump suits.

He dressed her in one of those jumpsuits on the Prometheus after he zatted her.

Then he read her file.

"Daniel is the three storey, battle ram proof guard tower protecting your emotional stability and compassion finally crumbling just a speck?"

"That's—oddly specific."

"I'm nothing if not embedded in the fine details, which is why this will work."

They've somewhat marched, half-danced, backwards towards the debriefing room door. She plugs it, extending her arms across, knowing he won't deign to touch her, or shift her out of the way—but it's not that now.

Hasn't been that in a while, but belief is a strong thing, ask the Ori.

Normally, would roll his eyes, grumble her name and just sneak in after someone else, or maybe even give up the meeting altogether, but maybe playing on her level will win him this round, so they don't scramble her brain and send her across the galaxy unsupervised again when the SGC has countless enemies and she has a personal list twice as long.

With a smug half-grin that makes her give him a genuine smile before he even opens his mouth, he answers. "Maybe I think your bird brain can't handle another scramble."

It sort of backfires, because she leans into him, her smile now cheeky and her words a purr, "and maybe you just like who I am now."

"No—" but he doesn't remove her hand from his chest, because when she was gone, when they lost her for two weeks that seemed like two lifetimes, he couldn't remember her voice, or if she pronounced it day-ta or dah-ta, or what she smelled like. "I just think I'll like the braindead version of you less."

"Now, that might just be the sweetest thing I've ever heard." Mitchell brushes by her and she lets him without hesitation, without dragging her eyes away from his.

Prays Mitchell will just go into the room with his peanut butter bagel and his coffee and sit ready to hear about Vala's plan to sacrifice herself again.

He doesn't.

"What's all this about?"

"Daniel doesn't like my plan, and he won't admit that it's because he's secretly harbors a deep seeded concern for me." She does this thing where she talks to Mitchell, but she's still staring at him, she does it all the time and he never knows how she's able to hold people so well.

Mitchell takes a chunk out of his bagel and the scent of peanuts wafts into the air. "What's the plan?"

"Vala wants to implant a memory of us abandoning her, to trick Adria so we can capture her." They both wait patiently. Her face still bright and hopeful to be praised again for putting her life on the line. Her hand vacates his jacket and she clasps them together, waiting for feedback.

"Oh," Mitchell takes a pronounced sip of his coffee and swallows. "That's a bad plan."