Memento More-y
Chapter 4
Twenty Questions
Tries to talk around the twinkie smashed into his mouth. Out of everything she had to choose a twinkie, which gave him the worst case of dry mouth he's never had. "Alah."
"Fine," groans as she perches on the side of the bed, zipping up her hoodie and snuggling back into it. "If you're so insistent on keeping me here under the guise of being my friend, perhaps you can answer some simple questions."
"Fine and after I answer them, you can uncuff me and most importantly, give me back my pants."
"My dear Colonel, I wasn't going to leave you bedridden and stripped of rank." The wink is all her, that flashy grin he gets from her when she sways her body after Teal'c helps her slam dunk the basketball. "But if you'd like to put that on the line—"
"Just ask your damn questions."
"When's my birthday?"
"I don't know you never told us." It's a point-blank answer because she did never tell them, although it's not like they asked.
"All right, if I am an alien like you said, where am I from originally?"
"I don't know, you—never told us." She really never did, but he's sure someone must have asked her—probably Jackson, maybe Teal'c. Should really have a conference with them about her, how they could stand to trust her more both in field and off.
"I see." She pauses and her demeanor changes, no longer as excited, she shifts slightly away, shrugging up her shoulders. She's probably just cold. Hell, he's a little cold. "Then perhaps you can tell me how we met?"
"You were escorted through the gate, and being the commanding officer at the time, I had to greet you." That's got to count for something. Well, it's more like she dialled them up causing an off-world activation and they sent guards to make sure she wasn't carrying any kind of weapon. Landry asked him why he let her in, after all, even if she was telling the truth, she just wanted to use Jackson to get a quick payday.
Something told him to trust her.
That she could help them.
Whatever that feeling was, he hopes she has it right now.
"So, I just traipsed through this gate and you were there waiting for me like a soldier's wife after I'd returned from war?"
"What?" Crunches his face up in confusion. "Vala, what the hell have you been watching on TV the last two weeks?"
"I find it highly suspicious that a military would allow a complete stranger to just walk—"
"You didn't walk, you sort of sashayed your way down the ramp. Is that better?"
"What did I look like then?"
"What?"
"What was I wearing?"
He knows. He knows the leather outfit, the one with the corset, and the necklace, and the pants that weren't army fatigues or BDUs or slacks or—"I don't remember."
"Look, it's nothing against you—"
He really is the worst negotiator on the team. He's seen her smooth talk so many men, seen her play an entire planet, and he thought that maybe after a year, a bit of that charisma would rub off on him, but he still sucks.
"—no actually it is entirely you. I'm sorry Colonel Mitchell, but I need to look after myself."
"It's what you do best."
She looks at the money she stole from his wallet longingly, but shoves the bills back in. With a fading interest she asks, "what do I do best?"
"Run."
"If I'm always running then how would—"
"Because you had a choice, and you ran back to us."
Her posture relaxes, her back and arms not so ridged and she smooths back a piece of hair from her face. "Why did I run away?"
"You saved us. You sort of manned up when no one else would, and unfortunately it came at sacrificing yourself."
The look she gives him isn't entirely unconvinced, just—sad. "Then it's best if I'm off with myself again."
"Vala—"
"You've stated more than once that I am at best an auxiliary member of your team—"
"That's not true—"
"It's time I run to somewhere else, because this lingering feeling of being in danger doesn't seem to be waning anytime soon."
"Vala—" he struggles again the cuffs.
Jackson told him once that she broke out of cuffs with a wrench of her hands at a certain angle, then showed him the bruises from where she helped him get free.
"Vala—don't—"
God, if she leaves, if they don't get her back, he's going to be buying two morning bagels for at least three months out of habit—to be ready just in case she pops her way back.
"Dammit, Vala."
"Take care of yourself, Colonel." Calmly sets the remote and half bag of snacks next to him and pats his chest—his dog tags—in reassurance.
She's playing up her nonchalance, but he can see the fear behind her eyes, knows that the fact they found her in the first place was the lottery, and no one wins the lottery twice in a lifetime. Also knows that the team has been tracking his sub-q transmitter and if he can stall her for just a little more time—"Vala, this is a bad idea."
"All of them seem equally bad." Pats him one last time and leaves the bed. Leaves him still wrenching his arm trying to get free to go after her because he's not too good with words, but he could probably fight with her until they both get tired.
She pauses for a moment at the door, he pauses his attempts to get free so he can hear her talk, and when she looks at him, she might have the saddest eyes he's ever seen. "It really is a pity we couldn't get on. I think I'd have a lot of fun learning to trust you."