This was written for and is dedicated to Lisa!

Title: The Intergalactic Christmas Ball (Part 2 of 3)
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Daniel/Vala (and Sam/Jack too, if you squint)
Summary: Daniel hasn't been invited to the Intergalactic Christmas Ball but there's someone there who he just has to see. With the help of his friends and a rather grumpy Goa'uld (and a large dose of direction from the Narrator) he has to make his way across the galaxy and slip in the back door...

Disclaimer: I own nothing, which is probably fortunate, because if I did own SG-1 I'd do things like this in the show.

Part Two
Pumpkin Palaver

"Uh-oh." Crack-bang-splutter-stop. "Carter! What did I do?"

"Sir, I don't know!"

"Jack? Sam? Why have we stopped?"

"It appears O'Neill does not meet the necessary requirements to fly this craft after all."

"Thanks Teal'c."

Contrary to popular belief, pumpkins aren't designed for interstellar travel.

On a ship destined for the renowned Intergalactic Christmas Ball, the four members of SG-1 became slightly alarmed at the sudden halt. Jonath-- er, Jack O'Neill hastily moved out of the way as Sam Carter studied the spoon-laden control panel. He darted guiltily behind Teal'c for protection from his 2IC's wrath.

"What did I do?" he asked again, tentatively. "Because whatever it was, it wasn't my fault."

"Actually, sir," Sam replied, surfacing from beneath the gourd-like circuit boards, "I don't think it was."

Jack peered out from behind a bemused Teal'c. "Really?"

"Yeah - sir, I think this ship was sabotaged."

"Sabotaged?" asked everyone else together.

Daniel enquired, "But who would sabotage a flying pumpkin?"

"It vos I!" cried a voice strangled with twisted triumph. "You shall never go to ze Ball!"

SG-1 all stared at the fake foreigner as he popped up from a secret hatch in the matted floor.

"Daniel," said Jack, eyeing the man suspiciously, "why does he sound German and French?"

"I don't know," replied Daniel; "he's supposed to be Russian."

"You sabotaged the ship?" asked Sam, returning (very professionally) to the matter at hand.

"Hey," Jack protested, "I'm professional."

I never said you weren't.

"You implied it!"

Heh – but the question is, can you prove it?

"Yis!" cried the Russian-German-French American actor. "I is as your witness! Ze Narrator insults your professionalisism."

Watch it, buddy, or you're fired. And I don't mean the sacked kind of fired – I mean the fired kind of fired!

Teal'c aimed his staff weapon with a threatening glare.

See? Fired – with fire! Now: why did you sabotage my lovely pumpkin ship?

The fake foreigner shrugged, looking at his handiwork with a vaguely satisfied smirk. "Vell," he said slowly, "it vos in ze script."

"Will you decide on one accent instead of putting them all in the same sentence?" Jack exclaimed loudly. "Russian, French and German? I don't think that was in the script!"

"Sir, we really don't have time for this." Sam was gazing at him worriedly. "The Ball starts in less than an hour and we're still only on the edge of our solar system."

Jack thought about this, then rounded on the awful actor. The smaller man shrank back in fear.

"Votever you do," he said, "do not take avay my ball gown, I beg off you!"

"Oh, I won't do that," Jack replied, with a falsely reassuring smile; "but you're not going to need it anyway. You see, you made a big mistake trying to come between my buddy Daniel and his–"

"Sir!" Sam interrupted. "You can't tell him who it is; that'll give it away and Daniel will miss out on the surprise."

Daniel blinked.

"Right. So," Jack continued, "we're not going to let you go to the Ball. I don't care if you're Danny's step-sister. You're going to help Carter fix this joke of a ship and then you're going to stay here for the entire night while I decide what I'm going to do with you."

The fake foreigner wailed and protested but Jack was having none of it. Very professional, ignoring hostage demands. The actor had no choice but to show Sam how he had caused the ship to come to a halt; a few minutes later, the engines had jumped into life and the spoons had lit up.

Jack gave a satisfied nod before telling Teal'c: "Tie him up in the back with Cronus."

Actually, you're going to want to untie Cronus for this next bit, he's kind of important for the progression of the plot.

"Will you stop undermining my authority?"

I'm allowed to – I'm the Narrator!

"Fine. Teal'c, tie him up in the back but bring Cronus out. Apparently he's important. Carter, let's get going. We don't want to be late."

"Yes, sir."

EXIT TEAL'C.

The ship began to move again but Daniel was restless.

"Daniel," sighed Jack, "why are you restless?"

Daniel paused from pacing around the bridge and pursed his lips. "I'm going to a party I don't really want to go to with a strange foreign step-sister trying to sabotage the ship I'm on," he said with a frown; "and I still don't know why everyone's so intent on me being there."

"Ah, Daniel," Jack replied airily, "you'll thank us when we get to the Ball. Oh, look… here comes your Fairy Goa'uld Mother!"

ENTER CRONUS and TEAL'C.

"It is time," Cronus announced, "that you, Daniella" - (Daniel cringed) - "are prepared for the Ball. Come! Kneel before me, underling."

Daniel raised his eyebrows.

Actually, you do need to kneel down for this bit. Sorry.

Obediently but nervously, Daniel knelt. Teal'c stood by, staff weapon at the ready; Jack watched with amusement on his face while Sam turned to view the spectacle from her pilot's chair. Cronus raised a feather duster that had all the feel of an amateur dramatics prop.

"That must be his wand," Jack whispered to Sam, sniggering.

Hey, don't knock it 'til you've seen it glow.

In a large sweeping gesture, Cronus touched Daniel on each shoulder as if knighting him; the fluffy end of the duster beamed and a warm rosy light radiated from Daniel's kneeling form.

"Er," he said; "why am I glowing pink?"

"Suits you, Daniella!" Jack smirked. Daniel ignored him, but that was probably due to the fact his SGC uniform had transformed into something very round and very orange. He groaned. "Not another pumpkin!"

Cronus was busy grinning evilly.

Teal'c came to Daniel's defence, saying, "Are you suggesting Daniel Jackson is a large, orange fruit harvested from a gourd vine?"

"Teal'c," Jack replied, "I think what you want to say is, 'Are you calling him a vegetable?'" Teal'c raised his eyebrows but chose not to point out that his version was altogether more accurate. "Anyway," Jack added brightly, "I think your Fairy Goa'uld Mother is right, Danny. Orange really is your colour."

"Narrator!" Daniel complained. "Do something!"

-grins- Alright.

And a moment later Jack was wearing a giant rubber chicken.

"Oh," remarked Sam with a devious twinkle in her eye. "Suits you, sir."

Jack glared. "I'm not buying pants on the Fast Show, Carter," he snapped. "Cut it out."

She flashed a grin and turned back to the spoon controls.

Hehehe, alright, enough. Cronus, give Daniel something tasteful to wear - and don't forget his glasses.

"What's wrong with my glasses?"

Nothing, Daniel, but this is a masquerade ball. We're just going to decorate them elaborately for the evening.

"Oh," replied Daniel, "that's okay, I guess."

Cronus touched Daniel on each shoulder with his wand once more and the geeky archaeologist was transformed into a dashing young prince. His shoes were shiny, his hair was sleek, his trousers were pressed and his cravat was really quite astonishing. His glasses were gleaming beneath the orange light of the ship, the frames polished and bright. They were adorned with jewels and sparkles -- and somehow managed to be only a little bit tacky.

If only you could dress yourself so nicely, Cronus.

"Excuse me," called Jack as Daniel admired himself in the mirror his Fairy Goa'uld Mother was holding up for him. "Excuse me! I'm still a chicken, here."

-snicker- I know.

"Then if you could do something about it, maybe?"

Why should I?

"Please?"

There was a jolt and a shudder as the pumpkin spaceship came to a halt. Everyone looked around enquiringly at Sam, who explained, "We're here."

Excellent! Come on, everyone! To the Ball!

"Wait, wait," Daniel called, waving his hands in the air, "none of us have invites! How are we going to get in?"

"Daniel Jackson is correct," Teal'c rumbled. "I have attended the Intergalactic Christmas Ball before. We will not be permitted entrance without an invitation."

"You've been before, Teal'c?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Indeed," Teal'c responded with a slow head-nod. "As First Prime of Apophis. Each First Prime is stationed amongst the Imperial Guard of the Ball. It is a most sacred position."

Cronus laughed. "If you are considering infiltrating the Ball, shol'va, it is impossible," he sneered. "You are known throughout the galaxy. You would be recognised."

"I hate to say it, but the snake-head's right," Jack sighed from within his chicken suit. "Hey," he yelled at the Narrator, "will you get me outta this thing?"

Oh, alright. Honestly -- poultry these days.

Jack's clothes were abruptly restored to his usual fatigues. "Thank you."

You're lucky, y'know.

"Why's that?" asked Jack with folded arms.

I was going to take you out of clothes altogether. giggle Shame we've got to be suitable for an all-age audience.

Daniel grinned. Sam giggled. Jack blushed.

"I'm not blushing!" Jack insisted, trying to hide his embarrassment at the near-miss of bearing all. "It's just that pink light from Cronus' feather duster!"

Haha, good excuse.

"Right," said Jack, pushing on the conversation through gritted teeth, "we need a plan to get Daniel into the Ball."

"We should probably hurry, sir," Sam added, "I think it's already started. Just listen to that music."

Everyone did, and cringed. That's what you get for letting the Asgard near the hi-fi.

"Alright, well, gotta be done," Jack sighed. "All we need to do is get Daniel inside. No-one will think twice once he's actually in there."

"I believe I can locate a rear entry point used only by catering staff," Teal'c told them all.

"In through the back door?" asked Jack. "Sweet."

So they landed in the galactic parking lot. All the occupiers of the ship (except for Daniel's step-sister) climbed out.

"Sir, what about camoflage?" Sam whispered, glancing around. Lights and music emanated from the huge, towering dome that rose up on the horizon. "If we're recognised…"

"Good thinking. Daniel, ask your Fairy Goa'uld Mother to zap us into chef's uniforms -- and if any of us get dressed up in one more novelty costume I swear I will shoot somebody."

"Uh, right, Jack."

A few moments later, Jack, Sam and Teal'c were sporting chef outfits -- big hats and all.

"I shall now leave you, mortals," Cronus told them imperiously, "for I have fulfilled my contract."

"What are you going to do now?" Sam asked.

"I shall complete my vacation on an uninhabited planet and pass the time by torturing small animals."

Sam blinked. "Oh."

"Well," said Jack, pleased to be getting rid of him, "have fun! Don't bother to write."

EXIT CRONUS.

"Finally," Jack exclaimed. "Alright, Teal'c, lead the way. Daniel, try not to sparkle too much, you'll draw attention to us."

They snuck around to the back entrance and made their way inside relatively easily. One Jaffa guard stood at the doorway but Teal'c knocked him out with a hefty blow; Sam got to work on the defence shield and ten minutes later they were in the kitchens. They smuggled Daniel into the Ball and pushed him forward onto the dancefloor.

He stumbled out and paused, glancing nervously around the enormous circular room. Scores of aliens were strutting their funky stuff. Daniel had never been very comfortable with dancing in public; he didn't much like to dance in private. On the edge of the floor, Jack gestured for him to get moving. Daniel tried a few moves but he found himself getting even more self-conscious.

"No-one can dance to this!" he muttered so only the Narrator could hear.

The Gorfilligans of Worgal-ping can.

To Daniel's great relief, the wailing, whirring song came to a crashing end and some more terrestrial music filled the room.

"Hey!" Daniel exclaimed, "I know this one! Walk like an Egyptian, doo…"

"Go Danny!" cheered Jack as Daniel began to shuffle; he caught Sam by the hand and dragged her onto the dancefloor. One by one the alien dancers turned to survey this strange human behaviour; and, one by one, they began to join in.

The Narrator was so impressed by the turn of events that she even considered dressing up the two military members of SG-1; then she thought it would be funnier to watch them boogie on down with their big floppy chef hats.

From a glittering throne raised upon a tiered balcony, the Queen of the Ball gazed down upon the dashing Prince Daniel with great interest. An enigmatic smile touched her lips; she observed him calmly until the song had ended, then spoke quietly with a nearby attendant.

The little bluish-green alien waddled down to the dance-floor and poked Daniel in the stomach. He pointed at the Queen and then at Daniel, and beckoned him to follow. Sam laughed as Jack wolf-whistled.

"Go Danny!" he cheered again. He turned back to Sam as the music started up again. "C'mon, Carter! Dance with me!"

Daniel followed the waddling alien with a worried expression; as they passed Teal'c, the Jaffa offered a reassuring nod.

"Do you think he knows who it is yet?" asked one of two women - er, men - from the sidelines.

"No," the other sniggered. "For a geek, he's really not that perceptive."

"He clearly hasn't read the script."

"Or looked at the 'Pairings' tag at the top of the page."

They cackled together and a sudden beam of disco lighting flashed in their direction. Simmons and Kinsey - who else?

"Well, I suppose we better go and get our good-for-nothing third sister," Kinsey sighed. "If we don't get him now, he will never stop complaining on the way home…"

"He looks awful in that dress," Simmons remarked; "not to mention his hair-do…"

"And his accent is the stupidest thing I have ever heard," Kinsey replied, "and I'm in politics!"

Men in drag can be so catty.

Meanwhile, Daniel was being led into a private corner of the dome. What do you mean domes can't have corners? We're on an alien planet. Not only that, we're at the Intergalactic Christmas Ball!

His small bluish-green escort toddled back out of the room. Daniel stood there very nervously, glancing about the ceiling and trying to remember how to dance ballroom. Take your hands out of your pockets, boy - she'll be here in a minute!

ENTER VALA.

FADE OUT.

Mwuhahaha! interlude, interlude It's fun, suspending the tension like this. It's one of my favourite past-times, you know. whistles Nope, nothing happening. La, la, la. Heh. Oh, alright, before I get pelted with rotten tomatoes…

FADE IN! (Is that right? -shrug-)

Daniel recognised her immediately. The Queen of the Ball was none other than Vala Mal Doran. Her face hidden behind a stunning headdress, she gazed at him with cool appreciation. Apparently his Fairy Goa'uld Mother had done a good job on the costume.

"I saw you on the dance floor," she told him, moving smoothly across the room. "You have quite a charm. Would you care for a drink?"

Nope, that didn't sound much like Vala, thought Daniel. Then again, she is the Queen of the Ball. Maybe she has to play up to the role.

Working on that principle, Daniel replied, "Why, yes; thank you, my lady."

Vala seemed pleased with his response (good one, Danny). She poured him a glass of pumpkin juice (hey, I'm just continuing the theme here!) and pressed it into his grasp. He smiled graciously and took a sip.

"So, Prince," Vala continued after he had done so, "do you know who I am?"

Daniel looked at her uncertainly. "I've a pretty good idea, yeah."

"I am the Queen of the Ball," she replied, moving closer to remove the glass from his grip.

"Uh, actually, I hadn't, er, I hadn't finished that…" But his mumbles were lost as she set the glass down on the table behind him.

"Will you dance with me, Prince?" she asked in low, seductive tones.

-nudge-

"Uhm."

-nudge nudge-

"Er…"

Say yes, stupid! This is Vala we're talking about!

"Yes?" Daniel tried. Vala smiled and slow, exotic music began to play around them…

SCENE CHANGE! (Mwuhaha, I did it again)

On the main dancefloor, Jack and Sam were still jiving. They had even managed to persuade Teal'c to join them, though he kept jumping the wrong way during the Macarena. Jack had just begun to teach him the YMCA when Sam said:

"Sir, your hat."

"What about it, Carter?" asked Jack, slightly merry on Nox home brew.

"It's… shrinking."

Jack pulled off his chef's hat and it was promptly reduced to the size and shape of a small white Christmas cracker before disappearing with a pop. Sam and Teal'c quickly pulled of their own hats, which had been tightening around their foreheads; they, too, shrank and popped.

"It is no longer safe for us to remain here in these clothes," Teal'c said, dismayed at his de-hatting.

"Teal'c's right," Sam whispered. "Apart from the fact Teal'c's forehead is now exposed amongst a roomful of Goa'uld, our costumes are going to start shrinking. We need to get Daniel before his clothes shrink too."

"There's no embarrassment like shrinking pants," Jack mumbled. "Alright, here's what we do: Carter, go back to the ship and prep it for launch. Teal'c, go back through the kitchens and make sure we have a clear escape route. I'm going to get Daniel."

SCENE CHANGE.

Cronus?

"Why do you disturb me on my desert planet, puny Narrator?"

I was wondering… did you remember to tell our heroes about the time thing?

"Of what do you speak?"

You know, the clock striking twelve, get out before your clothes shrink thing.

"I did not. I assumed you had taken over my all-important role. You did allow them to tie me up. I missed half a scene."

You were trying to blow up their ship!

"-sadistic smirk-"

So it's a no, is it?

"Leave me."

-rollseyes-

SCENE CHANGE.

Psst. Danny.

"Mm."

Danny.

"Mrm…"

Are you ever going to surface? Surely you need to breathe…

"Daniel!" Jack burst in through the door. "Daniel!"

"Mrm?" Daniel opened his eyes and took a much-needed breath.

"We gotta go, Danny!"

Daniel's eyes slipped out of focus as Vala began to place kisses along the side of his neck. "Kind of… busy… right now…" Daniel gasped. "Come… come back later…"

"Daniel, you don't understand," Jack pressed urgently. "Look at my hat!"

"I don't… see any hat…" Daniel replied, rather distractedly.

"Exactly! It shrank, it disappeared! You've got to come back to the ship."

It's no good, Jack. He's not listening.

Jack seized Daniel by the shoulders and yanked him from Vala's grasp. "Sorry, Queenie!" he yelled as he pushed a protesting Daniel ahead of him out of the door, "promised I'd have him home by midnight!"

"Jack, what the hell are you doing?" Daniel hissed.

"Daniel," replied Jack, slowly, "are you feeling any… tightness in your clothing?"

"That's none of your business," Daniel mumbled, blushing.

Jack rolled his eyes. "I'm talking about your shirt!" He gestured to his own chef's uniform that was by now taught across his chest.

Daniel, still dazed from Vala's advances, uttered, "Hey, did you wash that at the wrong temperature?"

Jack sighed loudly and dragged his friend through the crowds back towards the kitchens. At the exit they met Teal'c, who had been forced to abandon the upper half of his uniform altogether. They hurried bandy-legged across to the pumpkin-ship and clambered inside.

Sam was waiting. She had been able to change back into spare fatigues but had suffered enough shrinkage to empathise when Jack fell through the hatch with a yelp.

"Need - to - get - out - of - these - damn - clothes," he gasped, wriggling his shirt over his head.

Daniel stumbled in next, a puzzled look on his face. "What's going on?"

"It would be… advisable to remove all your clothing, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c told him with a pained look on his face. Sam echoed his words and quickly went to fetch proper sized garments.

A few agonising minutes later, the three men of SG-1 sat panting on the floor of the pumpkin, which was now on its way back to Earth. Gladly (or sadly -cough-) they were now all fully clothed.

"Engines are at maximum," Sam reported. "I just hope it's enough."

"Why wouldn't it be?" asked Jack with a frown.

"Well, sir, considering everything that has been transformed in this warped re-telling has begun to shrink, we have to assume that this ship is going to retake its natural form, too."

"As a pumpkin," said Jack.

"As a pumpkin, yes sir," Sam confirmed, "We're have to get home before midnight."

"Midnight?" repeated Daniel, who was still struggling with the situation. "Why midnight?"

Teal'c was the one to reply: "I believe, Daniel Jackson, that in the children's fairytale Cinderella, midnight was the crucial moment in which all things returned to their original state."

"Cinderella?" Daniel whispered in disbelief. Then he froze. "Wait."

"What?" asked Jack.

"My glasses," Daniel moaned, "I've left my glasses! They must have fallen off when I was running from the building. Guys, we've got to go back for them!"

"We can't," Sam answered, "there's no time."

"But they were my good pair!" Daniel wailed.

"You know what I'm thinking?" said Jack after a brief moment of silence.

"No sir," answered Sam, despite the rhetorical nature of his question. "What is it?"

"I'm thinking that darned Narrator hasn't butted in for a while."

Me? Oh, no. -innocent smile- I was just being polite, you were doing so well with the whole dramatic exit…

None of them were convinced, least of all Daniel.

"You knew this was going to happen!" he accused. "I missed getting lucky with Vala and I lost my glasses!"

Hey, hey! It wasn't my fault!

"Whose fault was it, then?" Jack demanded.

Cronus was supposed to tell you about the midnight deadline thing. I thought he had done… or that you'd at least be smart enough to figure it out. You might want to check the time, by the way.

Sam checked her watch. "Sir!" she exclaimed. "It's one minute to midnight!"

Jack turned back to the Narrator. "If this ship shrinks before we get back to Earth, I will personally feed you to an Unas!"

-shudder-

Well, lucky for me, you're just about to enter Earth's atmosphere. Hold on tight!

The ship plummeted towards one of the planet's many landmasses in a re-entry that was only barely worthy of being called 'controlled'. The constricting power systems of the enchanted spacecraft were finding it difficult to cope under the heat and stress of the ship's descent through Earth's atmosphere and it was only due to the intervention of the Narrator that it survived.

The now not-so-giant pumpkin landed on Cheyenne Mountain, Colarado Springs and the four members of SG-1 tumbled out onto the prickly grass. They turned in time to see the pumpkin rapidly diminish and suddenly it was a slice of pumpkin pie - on a plate, with a spoon. Jack actually cheered.

"My pie!" he cried and seized it.

"My glasses!" Daniel sighed mournfully.

"My scientific study of organic power sources!" Sam added in dismay as she watched Jack shovel the ex-spaceship down.

"My hat," reflected Teal'c, quietly.

Well guys! -nervous laugh- You made it, huh? No hard feelings, right? I mean, no-one got hurt, did they? Um… yeah, let's end this part now before I suffer numerous head injuries or something…

"Very wise," said Jack. "Very wise."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the silliness! Part 2 should be written and posted by Christmas; Part 3 may come afterwards.