Chapter 1 Qetesh Is Causing Problems
Vala shot up in bed, heart pounding and body covered in sweat. She couldn't catch her breath for a minute – shuddering, she dragged oxygen into her lungs, her hand clutching at the front of her pyjamas. Her eyes were watering and her nose was running – was she crying? She wasn't sure if they were real tears or a result of waking up quickly. After all – Vala Mal Doran did NOT cry.
Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and onto the floor, she sat forward, leaning her head on her hands. Eventually her heart rate began to calm down and breathing became slower, more regular.
Vala sighed softly. Every night was the same now – shooting awake at about 2 am then staying awake until dawn, because she was too afraid to go back to sleep.
She'd been subject to nightmares for a long while now, ever since her time as Qetesh, but generally limited to just a handful of bad dreams each month.
Since SG-1 had been stuck on the Odyssey for fifty years, however, they'd been worse. And after they'd come back from finally defeating the Ori they occurred almost every night.
Nearly every time Vala slept now the nightmares came – vicious, dark, spiteful dreams – sometimes she was still host to the Gou'uld, sometimes just Vala. Sometimes she was alone, sometimes with old associates, mostly with her new ones at the SGC. Sometimes it was just her and Daniel – they were the worst. This time they'd been trapped and he'd been drowning – she had yelled and yelled and tried to hold him but nobody had come, and he'd dropped under the water pulling her with him.
All the time she could hear the voice of Qetesh, laughing and mocking.
Vala rolled back onto the bed and put her pillow over her head. "I hate you!" she said to Qetesh – the part of her that still lived inside her memories. "You ruined me! You ruined my life for ever!" She realised that she'd shouted the last sentence.
Hope no-one's listening in the communications room, she thought. I'll sound like a mad woman.
Vala smiled in spite of herself. Even more like a mad woman. They all think I'm wonko around here anyway. I'd just be proving it.
The alien lay for a while with the pillow still on her head. In the darkness she felt for here orange cuddly giraffe - as soon as she touched his soft, furry body she pulled him in close to her chest, shoving the pillow away.
So, what to do now for the next five or six hours until anyone else turned up from SG-1?
Vala considered her options. I could go to the gym – wear myself out – sit on that machine where you lift your legs up and down – I could pretend I've got Daniel there instead of the machine, in between my legs so to speak – stop it Vala!
A distinctly wicked looking grin twinkled across her cheeks for a moment.
I wonder if Walter's on duty, she pondered. He's so easy to embarrass – what was that word I asked him about yesterday? Pantaloons – anyone would think it was a swear word the way he blushed! Perhaps I'll ask him if he knows what a "chamber pot" is – it sounds very regal – I wonder if the Queen of England has one? Perhaps Landry would know – it'd be worth asking just to see his face.
A Vala chuckle popped out. She felt wide awake. The neon numbers on the clock said 02.41 am. Oh well.
Sitting up, Vala pulled a bright pink hoody over her very skimpy and see-through pyjamas and quietly opened the door to her quarters. No-one about. She slipped out into the corridor and scurried away towards the lifts.
o - o - o - o - o - o -
Vala slipped the key-card out from inside her pyjama top and used it to open Daniel's office door. She didn't even feel guilty – well, it wasn't like she was going to steal anything. Probably not anyway.
I really ought to put that credit card back sometime, she mused. Slipping inside, Vala shut the door behind herself, in case any inquisitive airmen came patrolling the corridor.
Turning the desk lamp on she started to rummage about. Up on the cabinet she found her sparkly clip and stuck it back into her hair. She picked up a little Gou'ald remote control device and pressed the bright blue stone in it's centre.
Wish I could remember what this thing does, Vala thought. She pressed it again. Nothing happened. She tossed it back onto the shelf.
Moving along she found a half eaten packet of biscuits – helping herself to a few she went and sat down on the couch. Feet up on the coffee table Vala flicked the little TV on. Goodness knows, it had taken months to wear Daniel down into allowing her to have a television set even THIS big in his office. Next to it was a set of headphones which she was supposed to wear if he was working. Vala grinned wickedly and turned the volume up. MTV were showing rock classics – a woman in a leather jacket was up on a pool table, a chubby man singing back up at her.
Ooooh! I know him – what's his name? Vala considered the screen, as she licked chocolate smears from off of her fingers. Beefsteak? Beefloaf? Something like that. He was in that strange film which Walter likes – Rocky Mountains Picture Show. Wasn't that it's name?
Vala ate her cookies, and found the coffee, and watched the TV until she'd managed to squash down again that part of her soul which she didn't like people to see. Then she stood up, flicked off the TV, and tiptoed back off to her room. It was 5.06am. Time for a cat nap before the rest of SG-1 turned up for work.
Back in Daniel's office there were biscuit crumbs all over the couch and an empty coffee mug left on the table.
She was going to get busted.
TBC...
