Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed this story. Your reviews have been much appreciated. And a special thank you to my beta, The Noble French Fry, for beta-ing this chapter for me, even when with so much to do of her own! Well, it's really official now… This has become an AU story. Actually, it became an AU story when I mentioned sending the Prometheus to check out the surface of the Drakin's world. But now I'm giving it the "official" AU stamp. So here is the new chapter, it's kind of long, and it even has plot! The next chapter will be coming up sometime in the middle of April. I suddenly find myself swamped – I have the show I'm stage managing this weekend (four shows in three days!), five papers I've hardly touched, and one final exam… all before the end of March. But let me know what you guys think of this chapter, because I'm trying to figure out what the focus of my next chapter will be.
Disclaimer: Stargate: SG-1 does not belong to me in any way, shape, or form. The characters and their back stories belong to other people with far more money than I.
Warnings: There are a few objectionable phrases in this chapter. There is even some unresolved sexual tension. Nothing too explicit takes place… Nothing is detailed, just mentioned and left for you to fill in those details that would raise the rating of this chapter.
So relax, read, review, and most importantly…
Enjoy!
Chapter Fourteen: Uneven Ground
The bowls were passed out, moving along the table from hand to hand. There was companionable conversation going on as the food moved along as well.
She couldn't help but smile at how at ease they all seemed. When everyone had a bowl of food and a drink, the Matriarch dismissed the servants that had given out the meal with a small smile and a nod. She would talk with them later; right now her concerns were with what those sitting around her table had to tell her. These were her most trusted, most loyal followers and students. Her eyes and ears in the Colony, they were always looking and listening for rumours of decent and treatery. It pained her that this was necessary. They did this to protect her and to protect the Colony from the greed, ambition, and short sightedness of those who would plot to displace the Mother.
Holding her drink in her hands above her bowl, she watched as the others did the same. In a soft, sandy voice she intoned the same lines said over every meal: "To the memory of our lost home and all those who have left us." A moment of silent remembrance for those they had all lost followed. It was custom, this dedication of their meals. Remembering the home they had left behind to find their freedom. Recalling the sacrifices that sweet freedom had demanded, the lives it had cost.
But everyone's thoughts soon turned to what they had gained: the happiness they had all found. They were free, they could live their lives the way they wished, teach their children what had been held dear by all those who had fought for their freedom. The food was given a sweeter taste for these memories. And the meal began.
"I spoke with Damal earlier," a young woman at the table announced. "She is much opposed to this idea, believing an alliance with the…humans to be an unintelligent idea."
"Damal believes we should bury ourselves in the rocks and not interact with any who come through the Gate," another said. "Jay'Rait believes that it might be to our benefit to keep communication with these strangers. But she is very much against the construction of a weapon. Many are against this."
"I understand this," the Matriarch said. "Even I am uneasy about aiding them in the development of a weapon. But there is the possibility that we may not have to help make a weapon. Perhaps we will only have to help create a tool." She offered the last as a suggestion as though trying to gain some feed back on the idea. She already knew that it was only a matter of word choice, but one could never tell.
There was a pause in activity. "Mother, what would the difference be between a weapon and a tool? Would not both be used to achieve the same ends? To destroy another life?"
"Yes, Tal'li," she answered. "But it is the purpose of the creation that could make the difference. If we create a tool to…hold a Prior, prevent them from using their mental gifts then we are not helping to extinguish another life."
"But the end would still be the same," Tal'li persisted. "We would still be helping the humans to kill. We would be bending the will of fate to help them."
"And who is to say that it is not the will of fate that brought them here?" another woman demanded. "It might be the will of fate that we break our vow. That we take a more active place in the universe and stop hiding!"
"And it might be the will of fate that we deny the humans our help and bury the Gate! A test of our resolve, if you will," came a heated reply from Tal'li, a strange occurrence from such a gentle creature.
"Enough!" The Matriarch's voice left no room for argument. Silence fell, but the tension was still there, simmering under the surface. She would have to defuse this debate, ease their concerns. She would have to put up a stronger front before them. They could not handle her indecision on this matter; they would fall apart under it. At least they wouldn't use it against her, she thought warily. "I understand your concerns, Tal'li," she tried. "But Lomna also has a point. We cannot know what the will of fate has in store for us. We have been long without one who could read the patterns of the universe in such a way and now that we have locked ourselves from those patterns under these rocks, it would not matter.
"It is up to us to make our choices as best we can. We must think of the fact that the Prior that came through the Gate may not be the only one they will send. It nearly destroyed our Colony to destroy that one life form. If they return," she paused, taking in a deeper breath. "If they return, we may not be able to defend ourselves again."
"Of course we will be able to defend ourselves again!" a woman argued passionately.
"Perhaps, Sadha. But there is a great chance that we will not be able to. I may not be able to repeat what I did. If we cannot repeat that connection then we will be forced to engage in physical combat with one of these Priors." She looked at the shocked faces gathered around the stone table. "Physical violence," she repeated, stressing her point. "It is one of the few things that not one of us here wants to do. Would it be so bad, then, to help the humans? Would it be so horrible if it saved us from having to draw blood?"
She watched them as they thought on this new view. Sighing softly, she picked up her drink and sipped the bland beverage before she went on. "Our ancestors, our friends and family, lost their lives so that we could be free," she began. "Now we are threatened. Our freedom is threatened. It is another battle that we must face, for ourselves, for those that we love and cherish, and for our children and their future. This time, at least, we are not fighting our kin."
This brought about more still silence. The information that was settling in them was slowly bringing about agreement. It was a hesitant agreement; they did not want to become involved in the war that the humans had fallen into. But they did not want to fight a war of their own. It had come down to a selection of the lesser of two evils. Help the humans create a tool or a weapon against the Priors, or do physical battle with those creatures themselves? She was almost completely certain she knew what their choice would be in this matter. She did not want to give up the peaceful home she had helped to create, but it was that or watch them be enslaved and die slowly with them.
"Now, tell me what the others think," she said gently. "We know what choice must be made to protect us and our way of life. I must know what I am going to be coming up against."
They told her. It was a chaotic mixture of words, gestures, thoughts, feelings, and memories – all freely given. It was almost overwhelming, the sensory rush. Her skin web nearly hummed with the onslaught of information. The passing of such knowledge was accomplished much more quickly this way and ensured that no details were missed or left out. Bombarded, as she was, by names, faces, words, and opinions, the Matriarch was almost startled with what she learned. There were quiet a few who saw reason in her plan and might only need a gentle push to accept the plan. It was discouraging when she realized the rest thought the plan was pure folly. They thought it would ruin them or that they should bury the Gate and cut themselves off permanently from the universe. Some thought this would be their downfall, that by breaking the vow they had made would make them no better than the kin they had left behind. There were only a few, she was happy to note, who thought she had gone completely mad and needed to be replaced. Most believed that she was either being reasonable or could be made to see reason.
Holding onto the table, the Matriarch tried to settle her world back into the natural patterns while conversation continued around her. These loyal students and followers were now discussing the best way to approach the others one-on-one. It was up to her to come up with a tactic to put forward to the Assemblage as a whole. It would not be easy to do, but with the information she now had, she knew what kind of arguments would work, and which would dig a shallow grave.
"Doctor," came the smooth, sandy voice. Kessu was standing just inside of the infirmary, watching the gathered men shift uncomfortably on beds. One man was having his arm bandaged up; another looked as those his entire face was covered in large, thick red patches that were filled with greyish purple bumps. Two more men were sitting on other beds, watching the first two.
"Alright, you're all cleared to go. Major Jordan, I want to see you back here in eighteen hours or sooner if that rash gets any worse," Doctor Carolyn Lam said, making a note on a chart. "As for you Sergeant Lopez, stop playing with the local wildlife and I'll stop having to stitch you back together." She had turned her back to the men, writing a few more notes on the charts in her hand. They hadn't moved - the four men were glancing between themselves and at the Doctor. "Gentlemen, I'm fairly certain I can think of at least a dozen good reasons why I should take a number of blood samples from you all. And if you do not vacate this infirmary I'll get the needles and keep you all here over night."
They were gone in a heartbeat. Sergeant Lopez even finished bandaging up his own arm to beat a hasty retreat with the rest of his team. The nurses suppressed smiles as they cleaned up after SG-16.
"What can I do for you, Kessu?" Carolyn asked, turning her attention to the Drakin woman.
The thin grey and black material the healer wore swayed softly when she shifted slightly on her feet. "Bendi and I have completed our preliminary analysis of the information you have provided for us. We are curious to know if you can provide us with further information – of Prior physiology if you might. And if you might be able to provide us with more recording material."
"You mean you guys have already gone through all the material I've given you?" Carolyn asked, shocked. She had given them every book, print off, and medical journal she could get her hands on at their request. Kessu wanted to create for herself, and subsequently her Sisters, a base of knowledge about human physiology, since it would be mostly humans she would be helping to treat.
"Yes," Kessu answered in her sandy voice. "It took us longer than we had expected. Your written language is far more complicated than we originally anticipated. But we have managed to translate the material into something we can use." Kessu was looking uncomfortable now. She laced her thin fingers together and shifted her stance once more. "I am hoping that you might have some material on the physiology of the Priors."
The nurses were watching the interaction with some interest. Standing in a few clusters, they were trying to appear as though they were all in deep conversation and busy with work – and they were failing miserably. Either that or Carolyn was beginning to settled deeper into the SGC fold than she had thought. Gesturing to the Drakin woman, she led the way out of the infirmary towards her office. Kessu's escorting guard followed at a respectable distance. "I have a file on the one Prior that we managed to get our hands on. He was killed, unfortunately. But there are a few other files that might be helpful."
Opening her office door, Carolyn entered and went straight for a filing cabinet. Almost everything in the SGC was put on computers, but Carolyn had never really broken herself from the habit of keeping paper copies of all her records as well. It was a good thing, too, she thought. The Drakins had been absolutely hopeless with a computer. They had actually managed to cause the laptop they had been loaned to blow up. Apparently Doctor Less was still trying to figure out how that had happened. "Your Colony had a Prior. Why didn't you study the remains?"
Kessu was standing just inside of the office, next to the door, just as she had stood in the infirmary. She looked a little more at ease, however, Carolyn noted. "Because there were no remains, Doctor."
"How?" she asked, curious. "What happened to the body?"
"There were no remains," Kessu repeated first, and then went on to explain the how. "When we cut the Prior from all his connections there was no longer ... a force to contain his body. Without certain connections a body cannot remain intact. It will come apart and return itself to the state and matter it was created from. We sent the remaining piece of the Prior's belongings though the finger created when the Stargate opens."
Pulling a file out, Carolyn nodded softly. "Get rid of all the evidence," she said more to herself than to Kessu.
"I am sorry, Doctor," the other woman said, discomfort evident in her voice. "I do not understand this phrase, 'get rid of the evidence'."
Carolyn pulled out two more files and returned her full attention to Kessu. "It's a saying here on Earth. It's not really important. Basically it means that all the evidence, the proof, physical remains that a Prior had been to your world was erased or destroyed." She handed the files to Kessu. "The one on top is all the information we were able to gather from the dead Prior. It's not that much, but it might help you. The other two are records of a very advanced human, Kahlek, who we had on base not too long ago. He's dead as well, but we were able to gather some information from him while he was still alive."
Kessu fingered the files, hesitating before she said, "Your people seem very fond of violence and mortal destruction, Doctor."
There wasn't that much Carolyn could say to that since she happened to agree for the most part. Instead of trying to defend what she already knew to be true, she said, "That's what happens with military people. But we aren't as bad as we used to be. I think we've frightened ourselves with what we can do to one another."
A rare and fleeting smile crossed Kessu's face. "My people were much the same way before we arrived at our new home." Holding up the files she added, "Do you have anymore recording material?"
"Not here," Carolyn answered. "Ask your escort to being you to the supplies officer. He'll be able to help you better than I can."
The Drakin healer nodded. "Thank you, Doctor." And with that she left the room, her escort trailing behind her.
Carolyn couldn't help but realize that Kessu hadn't been shading her eyes. Maybe the Drakins were more adaptable than humans were. She thought about this on the elevator ride up the mountain. It would explain why they were so comfortable in the dark conditions of their home if it hadn't really been their home in the first place. These thoughts quickly left her mind, however when she cleared the last check point. Cameron Mitchell was waiting for her topside.
She often forgot about important things around him. If it wasn't life threatening, it just wasn't that important. And watching him lean against her car in an old pair of fitted jeans, a soft looking navy blue t-shirt, and his leather winter coat made everything but the sky falling on them seem insignificant. His hands were jammed in his jean pockets, his shoulders rolled forwards as though protecting himself from the cold. But Carolyn could see his eyes, watching her, even with his head lowered. Her breath caught that the look in his eyes – predatory. The relaxed stance of his body was a deceptive cover. He was like some half-tamed leopard – it could be nice and gentle and cuddle with you, letting you pet its head, but under all that was something wild, something dangerous, something that would rip the hand blindly stretched out to it. Yes, that was what Cameron reminded her of, a half-tamed leopard.
"Hey there," Cameron said, giving her a lazy smile when she got closer.
"Hey yourself," she answered, smiling back.
Cameron's heart-stopping smile had given Daniel Jackson a run for his money when Cam had first arrived on base. There were still a few half-hearted fights with her nursing staff about whose smile was best, among other things. "I thought we were going to meet in town at the restaurant," Carolyn added, more for something to say than for protest. Carolyn was all on the side of the nurses who had jumped ship from Daniel to Cameron and that smile did a small number on her most of the time.
"Yeah, but you're often off work late," Cam said, moving towards her. "I thought I'd be nice and come up and meet you here. I mean, you're off on time today and that throws off all my careful planning. We still got at least an hour before our reservations come up."
Carolyn glanced around them when Cam came up next to her. "Yeah, but there was a reason we were going to meet in town," she said in a lower voice.
He frowned down at her, hands on his jean-clad hips. "Now, you wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen with me, would you, Doctor Lam?" There was a teasing tone to his voice, but a very serious look in his eyes. He was half-joking, trying to make light of a rather serious question.
"No," she answered automatically. "No, I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you. But we agreed that we would be careful at work. The complications could cause us both a lot of problems. You know that."
Cameron seemed to consider her words carefully. He knew she was serious. It was more her career on the line than his. He was, technically speaking, her patient. Having a relationship with him could get her medical license pulled. That was something he definitely didn't want to do to her. Her job was important to her, and was a part of the woman he'd come to know and care a great deal about. Losing her medical practice would be like taking away some other essential part of what made her Doctor Carolyn Lam. "I know," Cam answered finally. "But we've been careful to make sure that I'm always looked after by another doctor. And a rather observant friend pointed out that you dad already knows."
"What?" she exclaimed, grabbing onto Cameron and dragging him further into the parking lot, as though just around on of the parked cars was General Landry. Cam had no choice but to follow where his arms were tugged. The appendage was still attached to his body after all. "How does he know? We've been so careful to make sure he didn't know until we could come up with a way to tell him that wouldn't get you in trouble."
Cam couldn't help but laugh. The serious and concerned expression on his lover's face cut that laugh short. "C'mon," he said. "We got an hour before our reservations. I'll explain how the General knows about our relationship and how Jackson figured it out all on his own too." He brought a hand up to her face and smiled to her, to reassure her before he became serious again. "Then we gotta talk."
"Aren't domestic chores something that women do on your planet?" Vala asked. She was leaning against the door frame to the bedroom while Daniel was gathering dirty laundry to wash. He'd stripped the bed and was now sorting out the clothing into different piles.
"Oh, yes," Daniel said. "I should have remembered that this is something only a woman can do. But since I don't have some random female puttering about my apartment, cooking my meals, cleaning the place up, doing the laundry…" He paused dramatically and turned to face her gesturing with a handful of dirty socks. "Wait a second, you're here now-"
"Not a chance, Daniel," Vala said evenly, eyeing the amount of dirty clothing the man had generated. "Besides," she added reasonably. "I don't know how you do your laundry on this planet. I'm not about to stand over a tub and scrub board and hand wash what looks like a month's worth of dirty laundry. I could break a nail."
Daniel could only snort a response to that, tossing the socks into the pile of whites. "And the world would end on a broken nail," he muttered to himself.
"What was that?" she asked, pushing away from the door jamb, her hands falling to her hips.
"And the world would end on a broken nail," Daniel repeated for her as he began to stuff the different piles into a laundry basket.
"Have you ever broken a nail on a scrub board?" Vala demanded.
"Can't say that I have," Daniel responded, watching the dark-haired thief when she tossed out her chin, and thrust out a hip, one hand resting on the shapely curve while she pointed at him with the other. She was acting upset, and even though Daniel knew she really wasn't, the angered tone of her voice was… arousing. It wasn't the words she was using, but the emotion that lay behind them, the way she spoke and moved when she was upset, or acting upset.
Of course, with his attention to the details of her physical responses to anger, Daniel hadn't heard a word she'd said. Vala noticed. "Are you listening to me, Daniel Jackson?"
She's upset now, Daniel thought. "No," he answered in as sweet a tone as he could summon up. It was a little disturbing to know that he'd been so completely distracted by his responses to her that he'd tuned out her words completely. Picking up the basket of clothing Daniel swept past her and out of the bedroom before the shock could really wear off.
Vala started after his retreating back her jaw hanging. Recovering from her surprise, Vala walked out of the bedroom and back into the living room. Daniel had his head stuck in a closet, looking for something she supposed. With his attention fixed on something else, Vala did the one thing she had been wanting to do to him for the last few days. She picked up a book from the closest shelf, not even bothering to check the title of the hardcover volume, and threw it at him.
She had a brief moment of satisfaction when the book made a resounding thud on Daniel's back before landing on the floor. Daniel's head came up and out of the closet, blues eyes flashing with anger when he demanded, "What the hell was that for?"
"That was for not listening to me," Vala retorted, planting her hands firmly on her hips.
"What, you expect me to cling and hang from every single word that comes from your mouth?" Daniel asked hotly, taking a few steps towards her.
"No, but I do expect you to at least listen enough to know what I am talking about!" Her own anger drove her a few feet closer to Daniel. She could see he was upset, his anger practically radiated from him. That anger reflected in his eyes, in his face, and it made him look lethal, violent, dangerous, and oh so tempting. Even when the muscles corded in his arms with his effort to not clench his fist, Vala was drawn towards him, she wasn't afraid of him.
"You almost never stop talking when you get started," Daniel said. "And when you do get started, Vala, your choice of topics tends to revert to something sexual every time." It was like some kind of dance, his body knew the steps, knew where to move, where to hem her in, where to give her some space.
"You could have just shut me up," she answered fervently when they were toe to toe. "It really wouldn't have been that difficult if you didn't want to listen to what I was saying. It would have been far more polite than ignoring me-"
When Daniel's hands came up to her throat, stronger fingers taking a firm hold when they captured the back of her head, Vala thought, maybe I should have been afraid of him. But the thought was quickly washed from her mind when Daniel's head dipped to seize her lips with his own. As soon as she realized the kiss was coming, she'd been prepared for a rough claming of her mouth. She'd been ready to struggle against such treatment, but this… this wasn't at all what she'd expected. Not the kiss and not her reaction to it.
From the anger had flashed in his eyes, to the potential violence radiating from his every move, to the firm grip of his hands she'd expected a hard and brutal kiss. But Daniel Jackson was anything but predictable. The kiss was soft and gentle, tender even and she practically melted into the sensation. It was like a little taste of heaven, it left her wanting more. More of that kiss, more of Daniel.
But just as suddenly as the kiss had begun, it ended, and it left Vala feeling breathless and bereft. She focused on Daniel's face, on his eyes that had started out flashing anger and were now smoky with desire. But he backed off, stepping away from her and releasing her. "Well now, at least I know how to get you to stop talking," Daniel said, his voice sounding huskier to Vala's ears.
She had only grabbed the journal as a form of retaliation for that kiss. She hadn't actually expected to sit down and read Daniel's private thoughts while he did his laundry. She hadn't intended to become so absorbed in what she was reading that the world just seemed to stop existing outside of that journal. She hadn't meant for any of that to happen, but most of all she hadn't meant for her heart to break for the man she was reading about – for the pain that he went through, his confusion and frustrations, his fears.
Daniel had given her a funny look when she'd picked up that journal, and now she was sitting crossed legged on the couch reading about Daniel's struggles to regain his own memories and come to terms with the man that he was. The man in question was moving about the apartment, trying to put things together before everyone else arrived tonight. He still gave her odd little looks while she read, the strangest had been when she'd laughed, crying, for what he'd gone through. That journal had given her a new insight to Daniel, it had given her an inside glance to the man she was married to. And while some part of her had been horrified with what he had remembered about his life, a much larger part was nearly bursting with pride for how strong he was.
Finishing the last page, Vala closed the journal with great care before getting up to put it back in its place on the shelf she'd taken it from. She didn't need or want to read any of the others, not even the ones that had her in them.
"Satisfied?" she heard Daniel ask from somewhere close by.
"Never," was her answer, a slight teasing note in her voice. She had a feeling that he had been uncomfortable with her reading that particular journal. It was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that was telling her he was waiting for her to pass judgement on him.
When she turned around she saw him standing very still in the middle of the living room, watching her. He looked nervous, she thought, and he shouldn't. She'd just read about one of the most difficult times in his life. He had willingly shared the knowledge with her, letting her read that journal. He hadn't told her himself, and Vala didn't think that Daniel could really have talked about that time himself. This was, in a way, one of his ways of sharing himself with her. She didn't have anything for him to read about her. She didn't keep records like that, it was too risky. But she could share with him.
Leaning lightly against the shelves, Vala looked relaxed to Daniel, completely at odds with the nervousness that was coursing through him. He hadn't realized which journal she'd picked up until they'd gotten into the laundry room in the basement and he'd nearly panicked. Now he was still on edge, waiting to find out what kind of passing insult she might toss at him for being weak and afraid. For this reason he was a little shocked when she started speaking.
"I think," she began, "that Quetesh was almost insanely pleased when she picked me for a host. A born again virgin with a family of fit sacrifices."
Daniel's stomach turned, but he didn't know what to say to make her stop. He'd wanted to know how she'd gotten picked as a host, what had happened to her. But her words, born again virgin, chilled his blood. "There were things that Quetesh did that I didn't learn about until after the To'kra had removed her from my body. When those memories came back, I didn't remember Quetesh doing them. It was my hands, my voice, and my actions, all of it.
"Quetesh killed my family, but I was the one who did it, my hands. Quetesh tortured hundreds of people, but it was my actions that caused them pain… When I went back to Gallagher I was looking for a safe place, somewhere where I could put myself back together again, because I knew I wasn't the same person that had been taken as a host." Vala had closed her eyes, and Daniel felt an echo like feeling of nausea and pain and disgust. He wanted to make her stop talking, he wanted to go to her and enfold her in his arms, comfort her, do something to make her realize that she wasn't a monster, that she hadn't done any of the things that she remembered doing. But he couldn't move – he was rooted to the spot, forced to listen. "Putting myself back together was the most difficult thing I think I ever had to do. Some part of me wanted nothing more than to forget, to let it all go. When they stoned me I screamed at them."
She crossed her arms around her middle, hugging herself and opened her eyes to look at Daniel when she told him. "I screamed at them because I wanted them to stop. I was scared and felt betrayed. But another part of me screamed at them because it wasn't enough. I deserved their worst for what I did to my family…"
Her voice cracked and Daniel was suddenly released from whatever spell had bound him to that spot of the floor. In three quick strides he had her against him, in his arms. Pain laced through his chest, his own and Vala's. She was trapped in the remembered pain, and Daniel ached for what she'd suffered alone. Holding her tightly Daniel felt Vala's hands on his back, nails digging into his shirt and skin as though she thought he might disappear and she was trying to keep him right there. "You didn't do those things," he whispered to her, speaking into her hair because he couldn't see her face. "You didn't hurt those people, Vala. That wasn't you."
"I know that now," she said a few moments later, pulling herself out of the memory. "I fought and raged and hated what I was, what Quetesh had made of me. It was so far removed from what I thought I would become that I was completely lost. I hadn't accepted that then. But I eventually did learn to accept it." She pulled back from Daniel a little and smiled slightly to him. "I did my crying for my family. They wouldn't want or need my tears – "
The door to the apartment opened suddenly with Cameron Mitchell's cheerful call of "We got movies, beer, and pizza!" Sam and Teal'c followed Cameron into the apartment, grinning at one another. They all stopped when Cameron stopped and asked, "Hey we aren't interruptin' anything are we?"
"Oh you wish, Mitchell," Vala said, moving past Daniel and back to the couch to flop down on. "You'd have just loved it if you had walked in a few minutes earlier and caught Daniel with-"
"Vala!" Daniel snapped rubbing the bridge of his nose. Of course she'd slink right back behind the flirtatious mask, Daniel thought. He didn't really blame her, but still, did she really have to go to that extreme?
"What's beer anyway?" Vala asked, looking at Daniel with a smirk.
"Alcoholic beverage," he answered automatically. "What movies did you guys bring?" He was trying to not look embarrassed, and succeeding in his mind.
"Well now," Cameron began, walking further into the apartment, opening a Blockbuster bag and pulling out a small handful of DVDs. "We remembered just how much you love those Indiana movies-" Daniel groaned at the mention of them "-so we didn't pick those up. But between Sam and Teal'c here we got us quiet a selection. Blues Brothers, Office Space, Wish Master, Old School, and Body Snatchers!"
Sam was in the kitchen, putting the beer in the fridge when she said, "Hey! You're the one who picked out Body Snatchers." Opening the box, she pulled out three beers and seemed to hesitate for a moment before reaching for a fourth.