A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! I'm sorry I haven't replied yet--been stuck in a variety of buses, trains and planes for the past couple of days, due to the heavy snowfall and a chronic inability to be punctual. Now I'm finally home, though, and will be getting around to those review replies soon!

Daniel's Christmas Carol

6.

Lya serenely walks right through the cafeteria doors, and I have no choice but to follow her inside. It's all brightly lit and noisy as usual, chatter and laughter and cutlery rattling…and oddly enough, there are long holly garlands stretched along the walls, mistletoes hung up above the desert line, and fairy lights decorating the drink bar. .

"Come, let us watch," Lya says calmly, tugging on my jacket towards one of the tables, where Mitchell is contemplating half a heavily-maple-syruped pancake on his plate. Teal'c just joined him with a mug of hot chocolate.

None of them gives any indication that they see me, not even when I wave my hand in front of Mitchell's face. To make sure, I poke his temple with a finger, and surely enough, he's completely oblivious as my finger goes right through.

"So…Teal'c…how've you been, man?"

Oh, boy. Two years, and Mitchell still doesn't get the thing about Teal'c and small talk.

"I have been well, Colonel Mitchell."

"And…how's that…Free Jaffa Nation stuff coming along?"

"Satisfactorily."

Ouch.

"Aham…right…and…your…eh…Bra'tac! How's Bra'tac? Haven't heard from the old fox in a while!"

It's like watching a train crash. I can't look away.

"He is likewise doing well."

Mitchell is cutting that pancake so furiously, I'm pretty sure he'll go through the plate soon. Two words, Mitchell: Star Wars.

"Sooo…heard that Nurse Robinson's got a pretty big crush on you!"

Oh, God.

I turn to Lya.

"Why are you putting me through this?" I already know Mitchell and Teal'c can't make small talk with each other. This is just painful to watch!

"You are mistaken, Colonel Mitchell. It is, in fact, Nurse Wiley who is harbouring such a sentiment. I am therefore engineering a characteristic Tau'ri social engagement, and have requested her participation."

Say what? Teal'c asked one of the nurses out on a date?!

Picking my jaw off the floor, I turn to Lya just in time to see her snap her fingers, and just like that, Teal'c and Mitchell, the cafeteria and the holly and the syrup-drenched pancake vanish, leaving behind only a slight waft of tangerines and cinnamon.

***

Now we're in the middle of someone's quarters. Hm. And I think I know whose. How many airmen on base who have a plush giraffe, a copy of Cosmopolitan, a Katanian pocket knife and my credit card on their nightstands?

A sudden knock on the door startles me, and of course Lya looks like she was expecting it. I wonder if I'm supposed to answer, but before I get to decide, the knob turns, and I can see a hand knocking again as it pushes the door open.

"Hi, Sam…"

"Vala?" She pokes her head in, looking straight at me, and—of course—showing no reaction whatsoever. "Vala, are you in?"

She steps inside the room, two glasses clinking in her hand and a wine bottle tucked under her arm. Huh. So Vala favours the Sauvignon Blanc.

***

And before I know, another finger-snap and we're off again. A little too fast, if you ask me. My vision's kind of swimming.

"Uh, Lya, can we do this whole popping-in-and-out-of-places thing a little slower?" Her only answer is a shrug, and she raises one of her arms, pointing somewhere behind me.

I turn, and I really wish I hadn't.

"I may have no idea where I am, but I'm pretty sure they're not supposed to be here!"

But Lya is ignoring my indignant hiss; meanwhile, my throat has gone a little dry all of a sudden.

I'm no expert, but I can tell we're on the bridge of a ship. I can see the void of space through the large window on the opposite wall, and something that looks alarmingly like the charred prison-planet Netu. But even more alarming is what I see on this side of the glass.

A table, long and round, filled with plates and glasses and steaming trays and copper carafes. And seated around the table, what I can only assume is some kind of convention.

Not just some kind; the bad kind.

There is Doci of Celestis, who has just created a small fire out of thin air, and is now using it to roast an underdone pork-chop. He meets Hathor's unimpressed gaze across the table.

"The book of Origin says, those who welcome the Fires of Celestis within their hearts, shall never suffer from undercooked food. And who are you, unbeliever?"

"We are the mother of all pharaohs!" Hathor replies with that seductive grin—you know the one—and takes a sip from her wine glass.

"The Ori are the only true gods. I shall help you find the path to enlightenment."

"Then perhaps we should choose you to be our new beloved."

Now there's a word I hoped never to hear again from her mouth. Actually, I kind of hoped never to hear any word from her mouth again.

"We have never seen refined naquadah such as this!"

"A single ingot could win us back the confidence of the Alliance!"

Oh yes, a couple of seats down, Tenat and Jup are examining the cutlery, eyeing their neighbours warily as they subtly sneak some spoons into their pockets. Across the table from them, a few replicators have just merged to form a perfect replica of Ra.

He's not too happy with it.

"There can only be one Ra!" he bellows, hitting the table with a fist and sending a few glasses crashing to the floor.

"Careful, Mr. Ra, this is government property," Senator Kinsey scolds from the adjoining seat. "The budget allocated to this project is already strained, you would not want any more damage."

"Silence, Tau'ri! I have created your civilization and I will destroy it!"

At the mention of the Tau'ri, a silhouette stands at the end of the table. And then another one. And another one. And another one. And I can't say I'm surprised to see who's hosting this whole thing.

"Friends." Ba'al is nodding at everyone around the table with twelve identical smirks. "Let us toast to these Tau'ri; we would not be here today without them."

A chorus of angry sputtering follows. Words I wouldn't put in a dictionary. And somewhere in the midst of it, I'm not all that surprised to hear my name.

"I would be ruler of all the System Lords if it had not been for that Tau'ri!"

"My beloved, and he betrayed me!"

"He was given the chance to look into the Fires of Celestis and he refused to repent his heresy!"

"He and that double-crossing bandit, Vala, stole our naquadah!"

Wow, am I happy they can't see me right now.

And there's Yu, staring straight at me, his wrinkled face suddenly white with anger. I wonder what he's pointing at, there's nothing behind—

"Ona'kree! Lo kek!"

What? Kill who? Whoa—wait a minute, you're not supposed to—hey! Let's talk this out, like civilized people! Put that fork down, Niirti! Lya—

"I am afraid I must take my leave, Daniel Jackson. I wish you well on the next part of your journey."

What?!!

Before I can protest out loud, Lya vanishes with a pop. Did she just leave me to fend off a bloodthirsty mob by myself? They're advancing on me from all sides. There's nowhere to retreat, I can already feel the cold metal wall against my back.

And the Ba'als look particularly happy to see me.

"Get him!"

I feel my shoulders tense as the Doci aims his staff at me.

"Lya!!!!"

A/N: One more chapter to go! As I might've mentioned before, this story had a mind of its own, and really strayed off the path I had intended to give it. But there's no arguing with the muses, 'specially not around this time of the year--imagine if they threw a tantrum and ate all the cookies and drank all the milk and scared away Santa! ;)

Until next time,

Myosotis