Title: What If They Don't Come Back

Author: Rude's Mom

Disclaimer: It should be obvious by now that I own neither Buffy nor Stargate. I only own the ideas in my own mind and since those are derivative, I don't really own those either.

Calendon

Merdden joined his wife in their bed chamber.

"You found her?"

"She was 'visiting' Xander."

"So, how long this time?"

"One week of mending linens and she's been banned from the stables for two."

"Ouch."

Nimue smirked at her husband. "And I've assigned La'tan as her guard. Maybe he'll be more vigilent than Talla was the next time she tries to disappear."

"You think there will be a next time?"

"Isn't there always?" Nimue reflected on the number of times Buffy had slipped out on her mother. "Xander is a link to our past. She's curious."

"She also thinks he's 'cute.'"

"What!" Nimue wondered if she could find a deeper hole to put Capt. Harris in.

"I wouldn't worry. She also said that he was a lot older than she 'remembered.'" He wrapped an arm around Nimue. "So, does that mean you thought he was cute too?"

"I was fifteen. I had no taste whatsoever, well expect for fashion." She smiled briefly before turning the conversation to a more serious topic. "How is O'Neill?"

"Physically she's recovering but Elsbet is worried about her mental state. She panicked when she saw a Jaffa."

Nimue nodded somberly. She had the seen the same response on too many occasions in the past. One of her first actions as ruler was to establish that rape was a crime that would severely punished. It had taken more than a dozen executions, both human and Jaffa, in that first year to drive the point home.

"I've ordered the Jaffa stay out of sight for now."

"What about the rest of her injuries?"

"Elsbet is keeping her sedated so we won't know the full extent until later but the bruising has stopped spreading and her breathing has improved."

Colorado Springs

Col. "Jack" O'Neill (ret.) watched as the cadets filed out out of his Military Theory, Strategy and Officership class. He'd been assigned the 100 level course as a way to evaluate students for possible tracking into the Stargate Program. It was still early but he was not enthusiastic about this batch. They'd do well in a bureaucratic setting so far none showed much aptitude for thinking outside of the box. Most were pretty good ass kissers though. He idly wondered if most of them were the offspring of politicians before discounting the notion. Ever since Vietnam there had been a very noticeable lack of the children of privilege even among the officer corps.

He gathered their papers from his desk, placing them in his briefcase. It looked like another long night of grading papers he thought as he pushed back his chair and grabbed his cane. The blown knee that signalled the end of active duty was killing him today. The terrible two were going to get pizza, again, for dinner. Sam was probably going to kill him when she got back.

Calendon

Sam struggled to escape the gray clouds imprisoning her. She could feel a dull ache thoughout most ofher body and an alien presence in the back of her mind. She finally opened her eyes. Natural lighting filled the room and it took a moment before her eyes adjusted.

A woman sat next to her bed. She appeared to be mending some brownish fabric, so intent on her work that it took several minutes before she realized that she was being observed. Once she became aware that her patient was awake, she put aside the tunic she had been working on and spoke.

Sam watched as the woman's lips moved. She didn't hear a thing and tried to speak.

"Can't...can't hear you," she managed to say.

The woman's eyes showed her dismay. She placed her hand on Sam's for a moment and then left the room.

Sam gingerly pushed herself up into a sitting position and then scooted back against the headboard. She took an inventory of her injuries, comparing them to what she remembered from the first time she woken up in the room. Overall, she was doing surprising well except for her hearing and the fact that she was probably snaked.

Tok'ra Base, undisclosed planet

Jacob was beginning to worry. Sam and SG-1 had been on the planet for over a week. They had made contact just once as they approached the planet. The plan had beenfor the team to land several days walk from Nimue's stronghold. All parties had agreed that the mission stood a much better chance of success if radio silence was maintained. Still, he had hoped that this would be a relatively short mission.

/Jacob, it's only been thirteen days. It was going to take them at least eight days to walk to the city assuming that the weather cooperated./

"I know Sel, but I just have a bad feeling about this."

/Is it because of Anise's involvement/ she asked.

"You know me too well."

/Hardly surprising since I've taken up residence in your head/ Selmac retorted. /Anise may have underestimated the dangers, but SG-1 is quite capable of getting themselves into and out of trouble./

"Underestimated? I've been double checking the old reports from Calendon. Nimue has been able to predict and prepare for at least two incursions, three if you count our operatives. There's no evidence that she is in contact with any other Goa'uld or anybody offworld for that matter."

/So.../

"SG-1 was to land at a distance to minimize any chance of detection. We were assuming that she was using some sort of radar or other technological detection method. But these reports indicate that Nimue had advanced warning of days, not hours."

/Then how.../

"Exactly."

Calendon

Sam was still sitting up when the woman returned. She was followed by Nimue, a ribbon device on her hand. Sam was still far too weak to even go through the motions of putting up fight so she settled for a dose of O'Neill defiance.

"It's going to be a little hard to torture me for information since I won't be able hear your questions."

Nimue drew closer and raised her hand towards one side of Sam's head. The crystal glowed.

"...but tor...what I had in mind. Can you hear me now?"