A/N: I own nothing, so don't sue me, you won't get anything.

9. Yay, Earth

"Let go of me, you crazy woman!" I yelled loudly. Despite her smallness, Dr. Galintha was strong. At the moment, she was holding me down on the Devil Chair, attempting to fix the straps.

"Mmm… Chicken…" it muttered, prompting a new round of screams from me. "You know, in the good old days, people used to sacrifice fifty chickens and a virgin on me every Tuesday. Now, I'm lucky if someone accidentally sits on me…"

"Mr. Evans, you must calm down." Dr. G was calm, so calm, in fact, that if she was any calmer, she'd be clinically dead. "The chair won't eat you." She addressed the chair. "It won't eat you because it knows that I have the schematics of its design, and I can scrap it with impunity and build a new, non-possessed chair. Isn't that right?"

For once in its life, the Devil Chair was silent. "Now, Morrick, sit," she said softly. I don't know, she's too blonde to trust completely, but I sat anyway.

"Now, we need to narrow the search. How many planets revolve around your sun?"

"Um…" Strange, how you learn something and when you need it you can't remember it. "Nine."

"Okay… Which one from the sun is yours?"

"Third rock from the sun."

"Mmhmm… Only inhabited one in the system?"

"Yep."

"Okay… Oxygen based atmosphere… Seven continents… Three fourths of the surface covered in water?"

"Uh huh." This is surprisingly non-exciting business. I might take a nap.

"Found it. Now, the Time… You're going to have to--"

"Go in, yes, I know. Just do it." Just get it over with… I hate space, now. Thank you ever so much.

I found myself staring at cavemen. "Another thousand years, please." Peasants. "More." Peasants. "More." People building a pyramid. "I think we're on the wrong continent," I said boredly. We switched back to the Earth from space.

"Point to your approximate locale."

"Talk like a normal person," I said as I pointed to the Georgia-South Carolina border. Trees popped up on the screen, and a deer ran by. "More years." Wow. That's better. "About fifty more years." And eureka! there was a truck stop. "We have it. Let me just find the Fair…" It was like a camera was slowly being lifted up and out. Okay, there it was, but no one was in it. I found Saturday, and scrutinized that one building for the longest time until I realized that it was the wrong Saturday.

"Great, more work," Dr. G said glumly. "I'm getting coffee. Want some?"

"Black with sugar, no cream, thanks."

Meanwhile, Commander Tino Diablo was back in the Game Annex with Liz. He scrutinized the board carefully and said, "B thirteen."

"Nope."

He cursed in Italian, which made her giggle. "Fine, how're you going to ruin my day now?"

"Hmm… E nine."

Im-bloody-possible. "Evil child," he muttered.

"You have no idea."

He growled. "N seventeen."

"Ha, you sank my tugboat."

He shrugged and said, "At least I sank something."

"Bah, G nine."

"You got nothin'," he said cheerily. "L twelve."

"And you got another tugboat. Loser."

"I'll get lucky one day," he said wistfully.

"Whatever. H seven."

"Nope, J eighteen."

"Three in a row, you tugboat serial killer."

He was about to retort when the doors whooshed open to reveal--

"Commander Saka," he growled. "I'd salute you, but I don't want to."

The woman resembled an overgrown cat with a few human characteristics, such as hands and the ability to walk upright. She hissed at him and said something very rude indeed, pertaining to the fact that he was a vampire.

"At least I bathe like a decent person."

"You bathe?" she asked incredulously. "I would've never known."

"Flea bag."

"Rat petter."

"At least I don't eat them."

"Neither do I, after you pet them."

As you can see, they don't like each other very much. It had to do with a long series of pranks involving paper cuts, lemons, penguins, and limburger cheese. But all this meant nothing because Morrick had found Earth and was doing a celebratory touchdown dance.

"Whew," I said after I kneeled to the ground and kissed it. Well, you would too, if you'd spent all that time in the Devil Chair. "If I ever say I wanna see space, beat me. Hard."

"But darling, I do that already," said Liz, who was, luckily, back to normal. "And that's what astronauts are for."

K'ata made a strange sound. It took me a moment to realize that this must be what an alien giggle sounds like. "Your astronauts are completely useless. A score of my people could board one of their stations, and they would never know anything was amiss. They're oblivious to what isn't looking them straight in the face."

"Well, we've already established that we're the inferior race here, but go ahead, rub it in some more," I said cheerfully. I'm very well-adjusted, and I adapt well to change. Maybe this is why my I.Q. is higher than normal. Heh.

"I was about to, but you seem to be using sarcasm again," K'ata said as she shrugged gloomily.

Alvin and Sam saw us and fell upon us, showering us with hugs and questions that I let Liz answer, simply because I'm too lazy to do anything but recline in my wrought iron chair. K'ata didn't like being preened by Sam, but the alien let the medieval hooker tidy her dreads. (Sam is a bit bird-brained. It might have been the shiny things that caught her attention, too.) Alvin listened to Liz's description of the Devil Chair and Commander Diablo, both of which she messed up, as the chair was bigger and he wasn't that cute.

"You've been to space?" Tim asked us as we headed back home. He and Alvin were the only licensed drivers, so, obviously, we use them as chauffeurs. Alvin had taken Liz and Sam with him and left me and K'ata with Mr. I-drive-a-black-FBI-van-at-eighty-miles-an-hour-in-broad-daylight over here.

"Yes, Tim, and if you hadn't been so busy looking up a barmaid's skirt, you could've come with us," I replied scathingly.

"That was accidental," he replied coolly. "She tricked me."

"She tricked you into lying down under the counter while no one was looking and using a mirror on the floor to--"

"Really, this is unnecessary," K'ata groaned. "And could you please slow down?"

"Um, why?"

"Because, if you don't, I'll castrate you."

Tim slowed to forty. "Better?"

"Much, thank you."

"The mighty space alien can't take Tim's driving?" I said to no one in particular. "Tim, I'm telling your dad, if I ever meet him."

Tim chuckled darkly. "Oh, yes, fat chance of that ever happening. Tell Mimi," who was, in case you didn't know, Tim's grandmother. "She might just believe you."

I shivered. Mimi was a vampire, an evil, terrible, cookie-baking vampire. "I demand to be armed with a crucifix."

"You think a crucifix would do any good against a Catholic vampire? You're daft. You'd need a Star of David." He rummaged through the glove compartment and tossed me a gold one on a gold chain. "Keep that handy, will you? I may need it back if Mimi converts again."

"Gee, thanks Tim," I said smarmily. "Say, when'll we be seeing your Granny?"

"At her next funeral rehearsal, I suspect. Father still hasn't shown up to any of them, and she intends to stay alive and keep trying until he does. It's Wednesday at four. I'll pick you two up at three, as the thing's in Dearing this time."

"Who said I wanted to go?" K'ata asked woefully. I don't think there are cars - as we know them - where she comes from. Hovering things, yes, but the concept of the wheel is beyond her grasp.

"Ah, come on, it's great fun," Tim admonished gently. "Liquor, heavy metal, people in black keening and ripping their hair out, what's not to love?"

K'ata thought for a moment. "You are all crazy. I've taken up residence in a town full of crazies."

"Yep," Tim and I said together. I returned the funny look he gave me.

Claudia and Mom were both home. That in itself bothered me, because the mother woman was usually at work whenever Cloudy was here. I adjusted my hat and strode forth bravely into the eye of the storm. The two of them were sitting on the couch with worried looks on their faces. A large pile of stuff - mine, if I judged the lace and ruffles correctly - was situated between them. Cosmo magazines, nail polish, hair straightener, ribbons… Well, at least they didn't find my maid outfit.

"Morrick, honey, we need to talk," my mother said gently. The lines on her face seemed to have deepened since I'd last seen her, and the blue of her eyes looked a bit washed out. "I understand that you may be having a bit of a rough time without your father here, but--"

"Aren't you going to let me explain anything?" I asked blandly.

"No she's not!" Cloudy burst out loudly. "You, you little snake-tongued devil, won't be explaining anything."

"Says the woman who's had eight abortions in three years, and not told her mother about any of them," I said even more blandly. Yes, I've read her diary, disgusting mess that it is.

Claudia's voice seemed to fail her as she mouthed false accusations at me. Mom looked from me to her and back to me again. "Morrick?"

"Yes?"

She sighed. "I knew about the abortions. She had them at my hospital, for the love of God. Your sister isn't as bright as she thinks."

I smirked knowingly. "But, Morrick, this" she gestured to the stuff "this isn't right. You're nearly fifteen, and I understand that you might be feeling--"

"Mother, I'm gay." Not really, but at least it shut her up. "Kidding, but I like to feel pretty. No, I'm not on drugs, and no, I'm not being a prostitute. I like to take care of myself, so just chill out."

She looked over at Claudia, who was now crying silently. She ran up to her room, slammed the door, and began sobbing loudly. Mother looked at me. "And Liz?"

"Well, I'm marrying her. She's my girlfriend and my betrothed."

"Morrick, you're free to marry whoever you want, and you don't need to go by her family's recommendations, either."

"I know, Mum."

"And I was thinking about putting you into a regular school this year."

I blinked owlishly for a moment. Then I said, "Mother, that's a very daft thought. You know that public schools are filled with germs, and my education will suffer terribly."

"Morrick, I'm worried about your life! You're just… not right. You're strange."

"So was Bill Gates," I said insipidly.

"You aren't Bill Gates! And you aren't acting like a normal child! Normal children don't do this," she said as she gestured to a pink and orange feather boa. The futility of our conversation was settling on her, like a plastic bag over the head of an infant.

"Have you ever considered that I might not be meant to be normal?" I asked gently. "I'm not." Breezily, I told her, "There are a lot of things you don't know, Mother, and it's probably best if I don't enlighten you just yet. Everything is fine, though, so you needn't worry."

She was silent for a moment. A very long moment, during which time the silence became pregnant with suspense. "Your father and the General are visiting next week. Please make an attempt not to be so eccentric in front of them." And then she left. Literally. She went out to her car, got in it, and drove off. Mother always was a dickybird.

Wait. Rewind. My dad was coming home! Now, that is a momentous thing, here. And, the General was coming with him. I'd only met General O'Neill once, when I was eleven, but I liked him straight off: he was, if this is even possible, stranger than me. Liz and I looked him up on the 'Net, and she fawned over him because… Well, let's just say that it didn't make me very happy.

Abstractly, my mind was already formulating what I'd wear.

"Who is this 'General' your mother speaks of?" K'ata asked from the doorway, pulling me from my internal color swatches.

"Oh, er, Dad's boss, I guess. He's weird and funny." I was imagining how well a claret red dress shirt would go with my black bellbottoms. Very ABBA, I thought, but I am a dancing queen. (If you don't get that pun, shame upon you.)

"Well, I doubt that this is going to turn out well. What if they see me?" Whoa, was she actually whining? Hmm, no, just a different version of the rolling growl, I guessed.

"What, are you serious? Dad may believe that there's life 'out there', but they're both military. Daft as brushes, the lot of them." I snorted disdainfully. "Plus, the General doesn't seem very bright."

"So, they won't believe their eyes if they see me?" she asked. She sounded a bit annoyed by this, as if by not believing in her they were insulting her. She shook her head and muttered, "You humans really are stupid."

"Yep."

I sat in my room, morosely contemplating my book collection. Most of them were from a female point of view, and most of those were set in Europe in the eighties. The few - and I stress few - that weren't like that were, well, Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings. And that one with the gay vampire, but we're not supposed to speak of that. Oh, wait, Harry's British, and so are the Hobbits. Almost. Ah, screw it.

I wondered briefly what being female might be like, and discarded the notion almost immediately. Liz had told me all the woes of being a gal, and I wasn't about to have that. I guess I'm just a drag queen, then.

"That you are," K'ata said cheerfully. "I sent Kou'al and Turi the video of you in the dress."

"I hope I never see them again," I said crossly. Memo to self, destroy all copies of that video.

She laughed and said, "But you don't even know how my computer works."

Fine. Memo to self, learn how her computer works.

I heard a knock at my door, and my mother's voice asked, "Morrick, are you in there?"

"Crap," I muttered. "Great, all I need is another touching heart-to-heart. Hide, will ya?" I said to K'ata. But she was already invisible, and the lights were dimmed so I could better enjoy my multiple lava lamps and fiber optic things. "Come in, Mother."

She looked awful. Tears and booze had clouded her visage, and her makeup was ruined. But these things didn't matter to her at the moment, because in her arms she held a spotted black and white lump which was whimpering weakly. One of the poodles, I recognized. "Mum, what's wrong?"

"Morrick," she whispered thinly, "I think he's dying."

"Oh, Mom…"

"I can't-" Her voice broke. "Can't watch him die."

Oh, so you want me to do it? I sighed. Jerry, the poodle she held, was older than me, and he'd lived a full life. "Give him here, Mom," I said, to be awarded with a grateful look from her. She gently put the towel-wrapped dog into my arms. As she left, she shut the door quietly.

K'ata shimmered back into view and joined me on my trampoline bed. I answered her mute question with a nod, and she stroked Jerry's wiry fur delicately. "He was a good dog, even if he was a bit senile at times," I said sadly. I was angry at my mother for making me keep the dying dog company as he died, but I wasn't as grieved as the two women were. My dog was in the yard, eating mushrooms and chasing rabbits that weren't there. The poodles didn't matter to me.

"He's stopped breathing, Morrick." She examined her claws; we'd been playing with Liz's nail polish a few days ago, and K'ata let me paint her nails metallic green. I guess that is to her what red is to us.

"I'll have to bury him, I guess," I said, wondering if I might cremate him. The Cantonese people would flock, though. I put him in his cardboard coffin with all of his favorite toys, and left him by the door. It was too late to go out now.

It was time for me to check my emails. Normally, all I get is junk, but occasionally, there'd be something neat in there. There was only one, and it read like this:

To Morrick L. Evans,

Hi. I'm fairly sure you don't remember me, but you might, by now. I understand that you've made the acquaintance of a female Yautja from the Pran'rel clan, and you have recovered at least some of your memory. You have also lost the tracking nanytes that I implanted in you. This displeases me greatly, as you are an ongoing experiment of mine, one of my favorites. (You remind me of me that one time when I was young, human, and not very bright. That's a compliment.) It is necessary that you receive new tracking nanytes immediately. If you do not cooperate, you will be eliminated.

Yours sincerely, Lord and Master of the Universe, Baal

P.S.- Your Yautja friend need not accompany you into the woods west of your residence.

"What a loser," I said cheerfully. "Hey, K'ata, look at this." I showed her the email, and she didn't think it was funny in the least bit. In fact, somehow she convinced me to panic.

"I doubt he will follow through with his threats," K'ata lied obviously. "I mean, usually, he does, but not always. Like, once, he announced to a planet that he was going to demolish it, but then he didn't. I think he forgot," she added, troubled.

"I'm gonna die," I said hysterically.

"Ya ain't. I've met him. He's quite nice," she said.

"Yeah, and nice to you is evil to me."

"Well, that's what I meant."

I stared at the screen. The from address was a variation of Sam's. I told K'ata that, and I don't think she got it.

"I'm off to, er, check my messages," she said as she went outside. Great, she's using my excuses.

"'One of his favorites,'" I read with a certain sense of foreboding. "How many people have been experimenting on me, anyway?"

"Oh, lots," said a very annoying little voice in my head. "In fact, you're like the universal guinea pig."

"Shu' 'p." Maybe Sam might know something. I sent her the email, and shortly received a reply back as follows:

Morrick,

I dunno who sent u that. I didn't. Mayb u've got a haxer. Sry I can't b of help,

Sammy Kool Dawg

Yes. My friends are retarded. But, I'm distracted my this cute hoodie that I see in the MSN ad. I don't know, is lilac really my color though? I'll ask K'ata, when she gets back. Meanwhile, I played Solitare while listening to Marylin Manson.

I didn't notice as K'ata crept into the room. Well, I did, but I didn't let her know that. A guy needs a few secrets, don't ya think? So, I ignored her as she went about setting up a strange device which glowed faintly. Ah, forget it. Curiosity won out, and I spun about in my chair and said, "Whatcha got?" in the scalliest voice I could. (A scally is a British redneck, I think. If I got that wrong, well, it doesn't matter, because Alvin is the only Brit I know.)

"You wouldn't understand it," she said dismissively.

"Try me."

"Very well. This is a field generator. It can do almost any field I program into it. I'm going scramble any scanners that sweep us, mainly, Dark Glory's and any of Baal's ships." She sounded very satisfied, like a vintage car collector. (Don't ask, you don't want to know what I've been reading.)

"Um, who's Dark Glory?"

"Turi and Kou'al. They have shields up so I can't scan them, and I'm just returning the favor."

Right. Was it just me, or is all this scanning nonsense very childish? Of course it's just me. "Is this thingy gonna mess up my computer?"

"Dunno. We'll see… now." She flipped a switch and looked around expectantly. My screen now had a very flattering greenish tint, but that was it. I applauded.

"But, er, why are we blocking their scans anyway?"

"Several reasons, none of which you'd get."

"I got the generator dealy, didn't I?" I asked petulantly.

She sighed and said, "Field generator. Fine. One, Baal uses fine-tuned scanners to determine where to beam to. If we mess that up, he might beam into a wall, and that would be a good thing."

"I thought you said he was nice."

"What have we discussed?" Oh, that. Oops. "Anyway, he's also been scanning you, and I'm not sure about this, but he might be able to beam nanytes into you." Ew. Suddenly, technology frightens me. "Depending on the type, the other nanytes you have would destroy the new nanytes, but they might not."

"Anything else?"

"No, that's it."

"Right. Lovely. I'm getting some pie." She made a gagging noise.

"Don't see how you can eat that stuff."

I smirked and said, "You're just addicted to injections."

"Indeed."

A/N: Sorry for the extreme slowness in updating. My muse has been having an affair. So, anyone recognize Baal from Stargate? I can't help it. The plot bunnies forced me to do it. Somehow, they've put it into my mind that Sam (Lemley) is supposed to marry him after Morrick, Liz, and Alvin leave with K'ata and the rest of the aliens. (And I'm left thinking, when did this happen?) And, this is dedicated to the death of one of my friend's dogs.