Take a Chance on Me - Chapter 20
***Author's Notes - I want to thank everyone who has contributed reviews. It's very encouraging to read them - I may have given up the story completely if I hadn't received so many, so thank you all very much. Christmas break is coming up and I hope to work like crazy on this story, and dare I say, perhaps finish it. One can only hope!
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Rayne, who had regained control of her body while in isolation, was wheeled back into the infirmary for testing of the pheromone inhibitor. She lay quietly, staring at the ceiling, the straps restraining her still secure, the guards standing at the door.
Jonas entered the room and approached the bed carefully. "Janet said that you wanted to talk to me."
Rayne looked up at him, surprised. "Jonas!" She gasped.
He took her hand and smiled at her. Her eyes welled up as she looked up at him. Her mood changed suddenly. "Jonas, you have to do something for me." She intoned, her voice strong and serious.
He pulled his hand away and looked at her suspiciously. "Who's asking?"
"Jonas, please." She looked at him desperately. "It's me, I don't know how to prove that, but it is me. Jonas, the letter - he didn't write it. I did - it did, she did." She shook her head in frustration. "Please Jonas, don't let Jack see it. It won't help anyone. Just burn it. Please." Rayne bit her lip and drew a breath in tightly then gasped out in pain. Jonas grabbed her hand again.
Her body relaxed slowly and she opened her eyes again. "I really am sorry for what happened."
"Rayne, what just happened?"
Rayne stared down at her hands, which she twisted in her lap and said quietly, "Punishment."
Jonas lifted her chin to face him, but she kept her eyes lowered. "How long has this been happening?" He asked gently.
She sighed. "I don't know for sure; maybe a long time. I just know what's happening now. I got headaches like this in Egypt, but I hadn't had any more until I got to Colorado Springs. This base is the strongest it's ever been. It's really hard to stay focused on who I really am."
Jonas looked at her with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. "Rayne, how much are you able to control? I mean, can you tell when it's taking over?"
Rayne bit her lip in concentration. "I know when it's going to take over. I just, well, I feel like somehow I want to do something that I wouldn't normally want to do. I have to make myself think about why I want to do whatever it is. The less I concentrate, the more difficult it *becomes* to concentrate and that's when it takes over. I guess it's kind of like sending out a decoy so that the enemy will go after the decoy, while you're free to attack their base. That's what the pain is for, I think. Part of the problem is that I don't have anything to do to focus my attention and I'm starting to get a little punchy."
"Well, you can talk to me. Will that help?"
Rayne gave him a tiny, but genuine smile. "I hope so." She paused, looking a little uncomfortable. "What should we talk about?"
"Well, I suppose we could talk about the weather. Have you ever watched the weather channel? It's incredible what they can do - it's like they can predict the future."
Rayne stared at him and started giggling, which slowly turned into full- blown laughter. Jonas looked at her oddly - he didn't think that what he said was that unusual. She eventually paused to catch hold of her breath. As she calmed down, Jonas began to get the impression that he had said something incredibly stupid and began berating himself silently. "Oh, Jonas, don't. don't look like that." She paused to gasp for air. "It's just that, I watch the weather channel all the time. I love storm stories. I thought I was the only person on the planet who was addicted."
Jonas' grin nearly split his face in half and he started chuckling. Then he started laughing and Rayne joined in. "Stop, stop!" Rayne gasped between giggles. "My stomach hurts from laughing so hard." They both gasped for air. As soon as one would stop and look at the other, they would start laughing again. Jonas was happy to be spending time with Rayne, especially if it helped her to stay in control of who she was.
An alarm went off alerting the base. Rayne's smile faded and she looked up at Jonas in surprise. "Unscheduled off-world activation. Medical team to the gate room!" A voice intoned over the PA. A flurry of activity surrounded them. Rayne's eyes grew wide with fear. "What's going on?"
"That must be SG-8 returning. They're the only ones off-world at the moment." Jonas replied, taking her hand. "It'll be alright. Don't worry."
A few minutes later flurry of activity entered the infirmary as two members of SG-8 were wheeled in on gurneys surrounded by medical personnel.
"Jonas!" Dr. Frasier yelled to him. "Come over here and help us move him."
Jonas jumped to his feet and dashed over to help. Along with the others, he moved Sergeant Pratt from the gurney to the bed. "Is there anything else I can do?"
"Yes. Get out." Janet said tersely.
"But." Jonas stammered.
"Out!" Janet barked. Jonas gave an apologetic look over at Rayne's bed and backed out of the infirmary, passing the guards where they stood by the door.
A man that Rayne didn't recognize stood to one side with a slightly dazed expression on his face, gazing at the men on the beds. He glanced over at Rayne, who stared back at him. He limped over and plunked himself into the chair next to Rayne's bed. She stared at him. He stared back at her.
"What are you in for?" He asked.
"What?" She asked, confused.
"Well you're tied down to a bed. You must have done something."
A sly smile crept slowly over Rayne's face. "Colonel O'Neill didn't want me getting into trouble. Apparently I was giving him a headache. For future reference, putting Jell-o into a colonel's boots is not a good idea, particularly when he can pick you up and carry you over his shoulder before strapping you to a bed. I've been here for nearly fifteen minutes. I don't think Uncle Jack is going to come back any time soon."
"Uncle Jack." The man asked surprised. "You're his niece?!"
Rayne sighed dramatically. "Yes. I just started work at the university when Uncle Jack called me and asked if I could help out with a translation. I signed a zillion forms promising not to tell anyone anything and still no one will tell me what goes on here."
"You were working on a translation? What do you do?"
"I'm a linguist, like my father was; my expertise is in Proto-Germanic. Apparently, their previous expert doesn't work here anymore, so I'm filling in for him for a while. Not to be rude, but I don't even know your name, and quite frankly, if I'm even allowed to talk to you about all of this."
The man chuckled. "I'm Evan. Lt. Evan Trevis. I'm part of the team that they just brought in here, SG-8 and yes, you can tell me what you just told me. I can't believe that Col. O'Neill has a linguist in his family. No wonder he had such a soft spot for Jackson."
Rayne smiled at him again, looking up through her lashes. "What about your team? Aren't you worried about them?"
Lt. Trevis puffed out his chest cockily. "Nah, they're fine. We do dangerous things like this all the time. It looks like a concussion and a broken leg. Nothing really."
Rayne's eyes grew wide in surprise and admiration. "Really? Oh, I'd be so scared."
"A girl who puts Jell-o into a colonel's boots afraid?" Trevis asked smoothly. "Nah, not possible."
"Oh, that was just Uncle Jack and it wasn't even my idea. I would do something much more creative." She grinned at him flirtatiously.
Trevis was intrigued. "And what would you do?" He asked, inching closer.
Rayne let out a low chuckle. "Uncle Jack has been driving my crazy; he doesn't trust me at all. All these handsome men on base," she paused to wink at him, "and he gives me bodyguards." She gestured to the MP's at the door. "Both women you'll notice. I think I'd do a little something to get him a little riled up. Maybe start a rumor or two." She raised an eyebrow slyly. "Wanna help?"
Lt. Trevis grinned deviously. "What did you have in mind?"
"Pull the curtain, so that they can still see my body, but not my face."
He did as he was told. "Now make sure they can still see your back."
He stood beside her bed and stared at her. She rolled her eyes. "Do I have to spell it out for you? Kiss me, you fool!"
He stared down at her in surprise, but was happy to oblige. He leaned over and kissed her lightly.
"I think you can do better than that, Lieutenant." She purred.
He leaned over again and pulled her lips into a passionate kiss. The guards came running over to see what was happening.
"Stand down, Lieutenant, that's an order!" The MP aimed the gun at him.
He pulled away from her dazedly and stared at the MP's. "Come on ladies, it's just a little joke. No need to get your knickers in a twist."
"Step away from the Goa'uld, now."
"Goa'uld! What do you mean Goa'uld? I thought she was Colonel O'Neill's niece!" He backed away from the bed.
The guards lowered their weapons. "She is, but she's also Goa'uld."
Rayne lay with a grin twisted on her face, her eyes closed. "Look at her, pretending to be asleep." One of the guards said snidely.
"I suggest you wait for your post-mission exam elsewhere, sir, before you get into trouble." The younger MP said.
"Gladly." Lt. Trevis slunk away and left the infirmary, glancing back at the bed. The MP's returned to their station at the door.
No one noticed the trickle of blood sliding down Rayne's lips.
Questions? Comments? Egregious errors? E-mail me at: amythestviolet@yahoo.com.
***Author's Notes - I want to thank everyone who has contributed reviews. It's very encouraging to read them - I may have given up the story completely if I hadn't received so many, so thank you all very much. Christmas break is coming up and I hope to work like crazy on this story, and dare I say, perhaps finish it. One can only hope!
*********************
Rayne, who had regained control of her body while in isolation, was wheeled back into the infirmary for testing of the pheromone inhibitor. She lay quietly, staring at the ceiling, the straps restraining her still secure, the guards standing at the door.
Jonas entered the room and approached the bed carefully. "Janet said that you wanted to talk to me."
Rayne looked up at him, surprised. "Jonas!" She gasped.
He took her hand and smiled at her. Her eyes welled up as she looked up at him. Her mood changed suddenly. "Jonas, you have to do something for me." She intoned, her voice strong and serious.
He pulled his hand away and looked at her suspiciously. "Who's asking?"
"Jonas, please." She looked at him desperately. "It's me, I don't know how to prove that, but it is me. Jonas, the letter - he didn't write it. I did - it did, she did." She shook her head in frustration. "Please Jonas, don't let Jack see it. It won't help anyone. Just burn it. Please." Rayne bit her lip and drew a breath in tightly then gasped out in pain. Jonas grabbed her hand again.
Her body relaxed slowly and she opened her eyes again. "I really am sorry for what happened."
"Rayne, what just happened?"
Rayne stared down at her hands, which she twisted in her lap and said quietly, "Punishment."
Jonas lifted her chin to face him, but she kept her eyes lowered. "How long has this been happening?" He asked gently.
She sighed. "I don't know for sure; maybe a long time. I just know what's happening now. I got headaches like this in Egypt, but I hadn't had any more until I got to Colorado Springs. This base is the strongest it's ever been. It's really hard to stay focused on who I really am."
Jonas looked at her with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. "Rayne, how much are you able to control? I mean, can you tell when it's taking over?"
Rayne bit her lip in concentration. "I know when it's going to take over. I just, well, I feel like somehow I want to do something that I wouldn't normally want to do. I have to make myself think about why I want to do whatever it is. The less I concentrate, the more difficult it *becomes* to concentrate and that's when it takes over. I guess it's kind of like sending out a decoy so that the enemy will go after the decoy, while you're free to attack their base. That's what the pain is for, I think. Part of the problem is that I don't have anything to do to focus my attention and I'm starting to get a little punchy."
"Well, you can talk to me. Will that help?"
Rayne gave him a tiny, but genuine smile. "I hope so." She paused, looking a little uncomfortable. "What should we talk about?"
"Well, I suppose we could talk about the weather. Have you ever watched the weather channel? It's incredible what they can do - it's like they can predict the future."
Rayne stared at him and started giggling, which slowly turned into full- blown laughter. Jonas looked at her oddly - he didn't think that what he said was that unusual. She eventually paused to catch hold of her breath. As she calmed down, Jonas began to get the impression that he had said something incredibly stupid and began berating himself silently. "Oh, Jonas, don't. don't look like that." She paused to gasp for air. "It's just that, I watch the weather channel all the time. I love storm stories. I thought I was the only person on the planet who was addicted."
Jonas' grin nearly split his face in half and he started chuckling. Then he started laughing and Rayne joined in. "Stop, stop!" Rayne gasped between giggles. "My stomach hurts from laughing so hard." They both gasped for air. As soon as one would stop and look at the other, they would start laughing again. Jonas was happy to be spending time with Rayne, especially if it helped her to stay in control of who she was.
An alarm went off alerting the base. Rayne's smile faded and she looked up at Jonas in surprise. "Unscheduled off-world activation. Medical team to the gate room!" A voice intoned over the PA. A flurry of activity surrounded them. Rayne's eyes grew wide with fear. "What's going on?"
"That must be SG-8 returning. They're the only ones off-world at the moment." Jonas replied, taking her hand. "It'll be alright. Don't worry."
A few minutes later flurry of activity entered the infirmary as two members of SG-8 were wheeled in on gurneys surrounded by medical personnel.
"Jonas!" Dr. Frasier yelled to him. "Come over here and help us move him."
Jonas jumped to his feet and dashed over to help. Along with the others, he moved Sergeant Pratt from the gurney to the bed. "Is there anything else I can do?"
"Yes. Get out." Janet said tersely.
"But." Jonas stammered.
"Out!" Janet barked. Jonas gave an apologetic look over at Rayne's bed and backed out of the infirmary, passing the guards where they stood by the door.
A man that Rayne didn't recognize stood to one side with a slightly dazed expression on his face, gazing at the men on the beds. He glanced over at Rayne, who stared back at him. He limped over and plunked himself into the chair next to Rayne's bed. She stared at him. He stared back at her.
"What are you in for?" He asked.
"What?" She asked, confused.
"Well you're tied down to a bed. You must have done something."
A sly smile crept slowly over Rayne's face. "Colonel O'Neill didn't want me getting into trouble. Apparently I was giving him a headache. For future reference, putting Jell-o into a colonel's boots is not a good idea, particularly when he can pick you up and carry you over his shoulder before strapping you to a bed. I've been here for nearly fifteen minutes. I don't think Uncle Jack is going to come back any time soon."
"Uncle Jack." The man asked surprised. "You're his niece?!"
Rayne sighed dramatically. "Yes. I just started work at the university when Uncle Jack called me and asked if I could help out with a translation. I signed a zillion forms promising not to tell anyone anything and still no one will tell me what goes on here."
"You were working on a translation? What do you do?"
"I'm a linguist, like my father was; my expertise is in Proto-Germanic. Apparently, their previous expert doesn't work here anymore, so I'm filling in for him for a while. Not to be rude, but I don't even know your name, and quite frankly, if I'm even allowed to talk to you about all of this."
The man chuckled. "I'm Evan. Lt. Evan Trevis. I'm part of the team that they just brought in here, SG-8 and yes, you can tell me what you just told me. I can't believe that Col. O'Neill has a linguist in his family. No wonder he had such a soft spot for Jackson."
Rayne smiled at him again, looking up through her lashes. "What about your team? Aren't you worried about them?"
Lt. Trevis puffed out his chest cockily. "Nah, they're fine. We do dangerous things like this all the time. It looks like a concussion and a broken leg. Nothing really."
Rayne's eyes grew wide in surprise and admiration. "Really? Oh, I'd be so scared."
"A girl who puts Jell-o into a colonel's boots afraid?" Trevis asked smoothly. "Nah, not possible."
"Oh, that was just Uncle Jack and it wasn't even my idea. I would do something much more creative." She grinned at him flirtatiously.
Trevis was intrigued. "And what would you do?" He asked, inching closer.
Rayne let out a low chuckle. "Uncle Jack has been driving my crazy; he doesn't trust me at all. All these handsome men on base," she paused to wink at him, "and he gives me bodyguards." She gestured to the MP's at the door. "Both women you'll notice. I think I'd do a little something to get him a little riled up. Maybe start a rumor or two." She raised an eyebrow slyly. "Wanna help?"
Lt. Trevis grinned deviously. "What did you have in mind?"
"Pull the curtain, so that they can still see my body, but not my face."
He did as he was told. "Now make sure they can still see your back."
He stood beside her bed and stared at her. She rolled her eyes. "Do I have to spell it out for you? Kiss me, you fool!"
He stared down at her in surprise, but was happy to oblige. He leaned over and kissed her lightly.
"I think you can do better than that, Lieutenant." She purred.
He leaned over again and pulled her lips into a passionate kiss. The guards came running over to see what was happening.
"Stand down, Lieutenant, that's an order!" The MP aimed the gun at him.
He pulled away from her dazedly and stared at the MP's. "Come on ladies, it's just a little joke. No need to get your knickers in a twist."
"Step away from the Goa'uld, now."
"Goa'uld! What do you mean Goa'uld? I thought she was Colonel O'Neill's niece!" He backed away from the bed.
The guards lowered their weapons. "She is, but she's also Goa'uld."
Rayne lay with a grin twisted on her face, her eyes closed. "Look at her, pretending to be asleep." One of the guards said snidely.
"I suggest you wait for your post-mission exam elsewhere, sir, before you get into trouble." The younger MP said.
"Gladly." Lt. Trevis slunk away and left the infirmary, glancing back at the bed. The MP's returned to their station at the door.
No one noticed the trickle of blood sliding down Rayne's lips.
Questions? Comments? Egregious errors? E-mail me at: amythestviolet@yahoo.com.
