The party was over. The house and yard was a huge mess, but Jack and SG-1
were all still around and they were more than willing to help clean up, as
were a few other last minute people. Mitchell shooed them all away, though,
telling them it was too late to care about cleaning and that they all
needed to get home and get to bed. She'd clean it up in the morning.
When the last person was out the door, she sighed, and looked over her shoulder at Brad, who wasn't planning on going home that night, of course. He smiled and came over to stand beside her and pulled her into his arms. She melted against him, resting her head on his muscular shoulder and sighed, tiredly.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Just a bit worn out."
"We'll clean tomorrow, then."
"Mm-hmmm." That sounded fine to her. She was more than ready for bed – and yes, despite her best intentions, she was a bit drunk. Which also meant Talon was as well, and the symbiote was doing his level best to fix things, since he wasn't enjoying the sensation all that much.
They went to bed.
The next morning he woke her with breakfast in bed, and the two of them sat together and enjoyed a relaxed meal, while she listened to Talon bitching about the headache she had and how crappy he, himself was feeling.
You're the one who wanted to drink.
[You could have warned me.]
What? And spoil it for you?
[Bitch]
Melony erupted into peals of laughter, and choked on her coffee. Brad, of course, didn't have a clue what was going on, but he pounded on her back and tried to help her catch her breath.
"What was that all about?"
She shook her head, still grinning and wiped the tears of mirth out of her eyes. "Talon's not enjoying the next morning headache, and is letting me know all about it."
"Ah." He grinned as well. It was good to see her smiling.
"We'd better get going." She said, kissing him. "There's a lot to get cleaned before we go, and I don't want to keep General Hammond waiting any longer than necessary."
"We should have cleaned last night."
"Well... the joys of procrastinating."
Cleaning really wasn't that hard. They'd used mainly paper cups and plates, and it was just a matter of picking up whatever hadn't been thrown away already, and then pulling down all the decorations. She took care of the outside, he took care of the inside, and it didn't take all that long once they actually started doing it. By the time she was finished with the cleaning, Talon had brought her hangover down to more manageable proportions, so she was feeling much better.
...
She drove to the SGC with her bag in the trunk of the Mustang, and Brad in the passenger seat. Since he had agreed to take over her things for her, he'd be driving the car back to her house once she was gone. Secretly, he had no intention of driving her car – knowing what it meant to her there was no way he'd risk messing it up while she was gone – but he'd take care of it and keep it in the prime condition it was already in.
Mitchell smiled when she saw the bleary eyes of many of the guards at the entrance to the base and at the checkpoints on the way down to the SGC. They were decidedly hung over, for the most part. There had been plenty of drinking at her party – there weren't any kids there, and plenty of sober people to be designated drivers, so why not? And now they were paying.
The men and women also gave her best wishes as she was passed through each checkpoint. These folks were back on duty now so they wouldn't be able to come down and see her off and although most of them had said good-bye the night before they still said it again. Mitchell didn't mind.
Jack met her with the rest of his team at the entrance to the lowest level. It was really just a show of support, Mitchell knew, but she loved him for it, and she appreciated the sentiment from the rest of SG-1. She'd be back. Sooner than they probably thought, but it was still nice of them all.
Even more surprising was what was waiting for her when she and the others entered the embarkation room. Not only were her fellow SGC members all arranged in perfect formation, but also there were some very top-level brass there as well, come to see her off. She was grateful that she wasn't hung over, now, since she needed her wits about her when these high level men and women came to shake her hand and wish her the best. And then when the President of the United States himself reminded her that she'd better keep herself safe, since the Military had put a lot of money into her training, and there were only so many Colonel in the Military in the first place so they couldn't afford to lose one.
"Yes, Sir."
She could feel Talon's amusement, but the symbiote kept quiet, luckily, and Mitchell turned and nodded to Sergeant Davis, who already had the dialing sequence to the Tok'ra held world she was headed for.
Hammond shook her hand, and then saluted her, and when she turned, the rest of the SGC members did the same. It was a beautiful touch, and Mitchell felt her eyes stinging, and if her hand trembled just a little when she returned the salute, no one noticed. Except maybe Jack, who gave her a cocky smile and pointed to the device he wore on his wrist. The matching one being strapped to Melony's.
"I'll be back, Sir." She assured Hammond, and the rest of the people who were gathered.
"We'll be here, Colonel."
The gate activated, and she turned. A last look at Anderson, and then a final look at O'Neill, she completed the turn and shouldered her bag, then headed up the ramp, whistling the Air Force hymn loudly – Off We Go! – much to the amusement of all people present. She heard the chuckles even as she felt the gate take hold of her.
...
Epilogue next
When the last person was out the door, she sighed, and looked over her shoulder at Brad, who wasn't planning on going home that night, of course. He smiled and came over to stand beside her and pulled her into his arms. She melted against him, resting her head on his muscular shoulder and sighed, tiredly.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Just a bit worn out."
"We'll clean tomorrow, then."
"Mm-hmmm." That sounded fine to her. She was more than ready for bed – and yes, despite her best intentions, she was a bit drunk. Which also meant Talon was as well, and the symbiote was doing his level best to fix things, since he wasn't enjoying the sensation all that much.
They went to bed.
The next morning he woke her with breakfast in bed, and the two of them sat together and enjoyed a relaxed meal, while she listened to Talon bitching about the headache she had and how crappy he, himself was feeling.
You're the one who wanted to drink.
[You could have warned me.]
What? And spoil it for you?
[Bitch]
Melony erupted into peals of laughter, and choked on her coffee. Brad, of course, didn't have a clue what was going on, but he pounded on her back and tried to help her catch her breath.
"What was that all about?"
She shook her head, still grinning and wiped the tears of mirth out of her eyes. "Talon's not enjoying the next morning headache, and is letting me know all about it."
"Ah." He grinned as well. It was good to see her smiling.
"We'd better get going." She said, kissing him. "There's a lot to get cleaned before we go, and I don't want to keep General Hammond waiting any longer than necessary."
"We should have cleaned last night."
"Well... the joys of procrastinating."
Cleaning really wasn't that hard. They'd used mainly paper cups and plates, and it was just a matter of picking up whatever hadn't been thrown away already, and then pulling down all the decorations. She took care of the outside, he took care of the inside, and it didn't take all that long once they actually started doing it. By the time she was finished with the cleaning, Talon had brought her hangover down to more manageable proportions, so she was feeling much better.
...
She drove to the SGC with her bag in the trunk of the Mustang, and Brad in the passenger seat. Since he had agreed to take over her things for her, he'd be driving the car back to her house once she was gone. Secretly, he had no intention of driving her car – knowing what it meant to her there was no way he'd risk messing it up while she was gone – but he'd take care of it and keep it in the prime condition it was already in.
Mitchell smiled when she saw the bleary eyes of many of the guards at the entrance to the base and at the checkpoints on the way down to the SGC. They were decidedly hung over, for the most part. There had been plenty of drinking at her party – there weren't any kids there, and plenty of sober people to be designated drivers, so why not? And now they were paying.
The men and women also gave her best wishes as she was passed through each checkpoint. These folks were back on duty now so they wouldn't be able to come down and see her off and although most of them had said good-bye the night before they still said it again. Mitchell didn't mind.
Jack met her with the rest of his team at the entrance to the lowest level. It was really just a show of support, Mitchell knew, but she loved him for it, and she appreciated the sentiment from the rest of SG-1. She'd be back. Sooner than they probably thought, but it was still nice of them all.
Even more surprising was what was waiting for her when she and the others entered the embarkation room. Not only were her fellow SGC members all arranged in perfect formation, but also there were some very top-level brass there as well, come to see her off. She was grateful that she wasn't hung over, now, since she needed her wits about her when these high level men and women came to shake her hand and wish her the best. And then when the President of the United States himself reminded her that she'd better keep herself safe, since the Military had put a lot of money into her training, and there were only so many Colonel in the Military in the first place so they couldn't afford to lose one.
"Yes, Sir."
She could feel Talon's amusement, but the symbiote kept quiet, luckily, and Mitchell turned and nodded to Sergeant Davis, who already had the dialing sequence to the Tok'ra held world she was headed for.
Hammond shook her hand, and then saluted her, and when she turned, the rest of the SGC members did the same. It was a beautiful touch, and Mitchell felt her eyes stinging, and if her hand trembled just a little when she returned the salute, no one noticed. Except maybe Jack, who gave her a cocky smile and pointed to the device he wore on his wrist. The matching one being strapped to Melony's.
"I'll be back, Sir." She assured Hammond, and the rest of the people who were gathered.
"We'll be here, Colonel."
The gate activated, and she turned. A last look at Anderson, and then a final look at O'Neill, she completed the turn and shouldered her bag, then headed up the ramp, whistling the Air Force hymn loudly – Off We Go! – much to the amusement of all people present. She heard the chuckles even as she felt the gate take hold of her.
...
Epilogue next