SGA Life, with a little spice 19
"What's the name of that thing again?" Muron asks her distractedly. Over the last few days she's been on board, she's seen him appear more and more frequently on her doorstep, coming for absurd reasons to the kitchen. Of course, she knows he's here for the treats she prepares day in and day out. Ventrell has objected to it at first but seeing how it seems to please everyone – both the cook and the patrons – he's just bought more staples and shut up about it altogether though she's noticed he's never tasted her desserts, sticking only to the main dish. Muron, on the contrary, would probably make a diet of her sweets if he could. He loves anything sugary she makes him try, though he can never remember the names.
"Snickerdoodles," she replies patiently, her hands on her apron.
He wolfs another one DOWN, reminding her of a certain scientist on Atlantis who'd found the way to her kitchen long before John Sheppard had. Her eyes instantly brim with tears.
Muron looks at her in alarm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I never remember the names of things but I do know how they're made, you know. Butter, sugar, flour, eggs, cinnamon. See," he tells her with an eager smile.
She brushes her tears away and gives him a weak smile. "I know. You didn't mean to hurt me. That's OK. It's just I guess I'm a little homesick..." she confesses, lowering her voice. Every day, Ventrell assigns her a new prep cook and she doesn't want her words to be reported back to the boss.
It's a little after two in the afternoon and she's sitting in her room, gazing through the bay windows at the vastness of space outside. She doesn't know where they are or where they are going but the ship keeps on moving round the clock, it seems. So either they have business to do in different parts of the galaxy or – more likely – Ventrell keeps them moving to evade Atlantis' scrutiny.
Two days ago, they were near the system of planets near Elysia. That, she is sure of, because he brought back some fruit that are only produced there. But that was two days ago.
Now the guys on board have gotten used to her cooking or are rather hooked on it, she hopes, she's decided to get bolder in her demands. She asked for honey crisp apples that she knows are heaped high on marketplaces at this time of year. The men loved the hand pies she made and she loved the fact she'd succeeded in leaving one more clue for John's men to find. It would only take one of them to report it back to anyone in the kitchen. She knows it's a long shot but she can't stand idly by.
"If only he would buy me chocolate..." she whispers to herself as the doors whoosh open.
"Mumbling to yourself now?" Ventrell mocks her as he enters her room.
She pouts and stands but remains silent.
"What were you mumbling about, Ms Léger?" he insists, narrowing his eyes at her.
She makes a show of looking embarrassed. "Nothing," she shrugs.
He gives her a knowing look so she caves in. "Chocolate," she mutters and looks away.
He folds his arms over his chest and smirks, obviously amused. "You were woolgathering about chocolate?"
She glares at him. "What's so funny? I'm pregnant. I have cravings! And I'm addicted to chocolate like probably three quarters of the people on my planet."
He unfolds his arms and roars with laughter. "Wow, lady! Don't maul at me, OK? I knew sooner or later, you'd beg for it. Tell you what – you do what I say and I'll buy you cocoa the next time I drop by a marketplace." He lifts his eyebrows expectantly.
She narrows her eyes at him. "Depends on what I have to do," she counters.
He smirks. "I don't think you're gonna complain about it." He watches her intently. "It's been a fortnight since you left Atlantis," he says, making her shudder.
"I don't need a reminder. Thank you," she tells him bitterly.
He ignores her remark and plods on. "Well, I think it's high time we called that hubby of yours to tell him you're peachy."
She growls indignantly. "He's not my hubby!"
He sniggers. "Same, same. Now, do you want to see him or not?" he baits her.
They're in the control room of the ship a little while later. He's stated his conditions in no uncertain terms. "I'll be watching you at all times. You give him a clue – any clue – about where you are, who you're with – anything that could lead them to you – you never see him again," he's told her.
She knows she doesn't have much leeway. "What do you want me to tell him, anyway?" she's bitten back bitterly. "I don't know anything!"
"Just don't try anything stupid," he's replied.
He nods at his pilot who's landed the ship on a desert planet with a gate. He's explained to her they'll contact Atlantis through the gate just long enough to relay their message. "No way Sheppard will have the time to get here before we've left," he's told her. "You stick to what I let you do. No more."
"Atlantis, this is Ventrell. Please respond," he asks patiently twice before they hear Chuck's voice on the intercom.
"Mr Ventrell, this is Chuck. I've informed Colonel Sheppard. He's making his way to the gateroom as we speak. Please hold on."
A pause of barely a few seconds and she finally hears John's voice and lets out the breath she was holding. "This is Colonel Sheppard. Go ahead." His tone is sharp and she can tell he's been running.
Ventrell licks his lips. "Colonel, if you agree to it, I would like to go on video."
"Go ahead," Sheppard replies. He looks at Chuck wearily who turns on the screen. Ventrell appears on screen with Louise by his side. She looks pale but composed and seems to be doing OK as far as they can tell. He nods at the other man. "Ventrell," he greets him curtly and turns his gaze to Louise. "Chef, you're alright?" he asks, not daring to call her by her pet name in public.
"She's fine," Ventrell replies impatiently.
Sheppard stares him down. "I'd like to hear it from her, if you don't mind. Louise?" he insists.
She nods. "I'm good, John. Baby's good too."
He smiles at her but adds worriedly. "I'm glad you're OK but you look pale."
"I'm cooped up on board, John, of course I'm not suntanned," she can't help scoffing, not liking it when he fusses over her.
Ventrell growls. "What did I say? No leads! Damn you, woman!"
She turns to him and stares him down. "Now, that takes the cake, ya' know. You think he hasn't figured out by now where we are?" she yells back.
"Kids!" Sheppard calls them back to attention, making her giggle. He turns to Ventrell who's glaring at him. "Of course I can tell what kind of ship you have. It's no secret you guys got hold of quite a few Goaul'd ships when you took over the Trust," he says, rolling his eyes. "Now, cut to the chase and tell me where we're at," he adds impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest.
Ventrel pouts. "You're not one for making small talk," he sniggers.
"Look who's talking," Louise mocks him, earning herself a wink and a smile from John and one from Rodney who's now standing by his side.
"Very well," Ventrell nods. "I'll soon need you to move Atlantis from its current location but I am afraid we're gonna have to stay put for the time being. Timing's not right," he adds cryptically.
John scoffs in exasperation. "Ventrell, I'm not at your beck and call," he snaps.
The other man smirks smugly. "Actually, you are." He grabs Louise by the shoulder and pushes her forward. "This little lady here is my hostage, remember? So, either you do as I say or you won't see her again."
She sees John press his lips together – the sign he's trying hard not to explode. Rodney does though. "Wait a minute, you prick! You think we're not going to try and get her back? You're a fool."
John crosses his arms over his chest, not averting his eyes from Louise for even a second, but he growls to his chief scientist. "McKay, that's enough."
"He needs to know he can't keep her forever," Rodney protests.
Ventrell lifts his eyebrows. "I beg to differ and I don't see why I shouldn't. As long as I need something from you, she'll stay with me."
Rodney scoffs. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into..."
Ventrell sniggers. "Actually, I do. She's a brat. You should thank me for taking her in."
Louise turns to him and glares at him. "You ass! How dare you?"
Rodney smirks but plods on. "I was not talking about her pesky personality – which, by the way, we all miss here," he adds, winking at her, making her smile. "I'm talking about her condition. I'm sure you do not have the necessary equipment on board to take care of a pregnant and diabetic woman."
Ventrell bites his bottom lip. McKay has a point but Louise is too precious a hostage to let her go. "I'll take the risk, McKay," he replies offhandedly. She sees John's jaw twitch characteristically.
"I'm sure this will be solved before my condition becomes a problem, Rodney," she tells her friend. She turns to Ventrell for confirmation. "Right?"
He sneers. "Don't know, chef. We like you here. Besides, delivering a baby is not something new, ya' know," he drawls disdainfully. "I'm sure we'll manage."
She suddenly feels like all blood is being drained from her body and grabs the control panel for support. She hears shouts on the other end of the channel but they seem to come from far away, her ringing ears muffling the sounds around her.
She breathes in and out slowly, trying to regain her composure and strength then she looks up at Ventrell. "No need to be cruel, you know. I think they got your point. I'm a hostage. They know there will be negotiations. But threatening the life of an unborn child, that's below you," she says hoarsely.
"I'm threatening no one, Ms Léger. I'm simply stating the facts. The world wasn't made in one day. I need time. I'll release you when I see fit," he counters coolly.
"Your ship is no place to bring a child into this world." The voice belongs to Jen who's appeared by Rodney's side. She's cool and composed but there's a glint in her eyes that Louise has learned to recognize as her trademark "don't mess with me or else" warning.
"I'm aware of that, Doctor. Which is why, when the time comes and if Ms Léger is then still in my custody, I'll ask you and your team to come and deliver the baby," he informs her.
He turns to John. "I promise you no harm will come to them and they will be allowed to leave with the child when they're done..." Louise gasps. "But she stays here," he adds, pointing at her.
She rubs a finger between her eyebrows, feeling a headache building up rapidly. "Do you have medication for her headaches?" Jen asks Ventrell, trying hard not to yell at him.
He nods. "I have a stash of medicine. Don't worry about it. And I took everything that was in her room. She has insulin for the next month or so. When she needs more, we'll rendezvous somewhere."
"I need to examine her," Jen insists. "She has special needs, as you probably know. One of them is to make sure there are no complications with her condition."
He shakes his head. "I can't allow for that yet. Maybe when we get that insulin..."
Jen hangs her head. "At least, do you feed her properly?"
Louise gives her a tentatively smile. "I'm good."
"Have everything you need?" Jen insists. "Carbs, fruit, calcium...?"
Louise nods. "Ventrell bought me apples and cheese," she starts saying but shuts up when she sees his warning look.
She glances at Rodney and sees his eyes light up. "An apple a day keeps the doctor away," he enunciates learnedly and earns himself a glare from Jen. He fiddles with the pad he's holding. "Sorry," he says, looking anything but, "I love apples. Especially those shiny red ones..."
Louise sighs inwardly. There's no way he's just making small talk. He got her drift and that's all she needs to feel her morale soar.
Ventrell taps his foot impatiently. "Look. Now you've seen she's fine and dandy, we need to go, OK. I'll call you back in another fortnight or sooner if things move ahead of time, but I doubt it." He turns to Louise. "Say bye-bye," he mocks her as if she were a child.
She locks eyes with John and tries to keep a brave front. "We'll find you, Louise," he tells her.
She shakes her head in alarm when she hears Ventrell snort. "Don't! Please, don't! Don't put your lives in danger. Remember the last time. Please, don't make the same mistakes," she pleads.
"Listen to the lady, Sheppard," Ventrell tells him before severing the connection. "She's smarter than you are."
She's escorted back to her room by Meeka who tries to make small talk with her, with little success.
"You're OK?" he finally asks when they reach her room.
She shakes her head, eyes red with unshed tears. She doesn't want to take it on the kid. He wasn't in the control room. That wouldn't be fair. "I need some alone time, if you don't mind," she squeaks, her fear finally taking over.
He nods and lets her in, at a loss for words of comfort. "If you should need anything..." he says, waving his walkie talkie – the only means of communication she's been allowed on board.
She pouts and nods and he closes the doors. She walks to her bed and curls up on top of the blankets. Minutes later, she's fast asleep, utterly exhausted by her worries, not waking up until the next morning. For the first time in almost a fortnight, the men have to fend for themselves and revert to their former diet.
Ventrell shrugs when told he should wake her up. "Let her sleep. You guys don't need her." He nods at Drake. "I'm starting to believe letting her leave her room altogether is a huge mistake..." he muses.
Drake smirks. He's one of the few people on board who are still impervious to her and her cooking and has already told his boss they'd better not let her get too chummy with the guys. "She feeds them and the next thing you know, they've handed her the passwords to the whole place for a batch of cookies," he's warned him.
Back on Atlantis
"I've just crossed referenced our intel with the preps," McKay tells Sheppard and Dex as he enters John's office. "I was right," he says smugly, making Dex roll his eyes. "Last planet you visited, they have a marketplace for the whole system of planets in the area. They have apples. Honeycrisp to be more precise..."
Sheppard lifts his eyebrows. "And," Rodney explains patiently, as if to a very slow child, "they're Louise's favorite for making pies and all sorts of pastry."
"How do you know?" Ronon shoots back.
"Cause I listen to her, you dummy. I don't just wolf down the food she puts on my plate," he snaps back.
"Enough," John cuts them in. "OK, so Louise has found a way to make them drop by at marketplaces. That's a starting point. If we can trace their route, we might establish a pattern." He sighs and taps his finger on his lips, deep in thought, then he looks up at Ronon. "I think it's time I joined the search."
Ronon grins at him. "The more, the merrier," he replies approvingly.
Rodney shakes his head. "No, no, no, you really shouldn't." John shoots him a glance, looking annoyed. "I know you want to find her but she said it herself. You don't want to make the same mistakes."
Sheppard rolls his eyes. "I took that into consideration, Rodney, thank you. But we can't let that last forever. You heard Jen. She needs care and attention."
"I care about her, too, you know," Rodney snaps at him impatiently. "I just happen to trust her judgment... Don't you?" he adds wickedly.
TBC
Extract from Louise's Cookbook
Snickerdoodle is not only the name of a cookie. In my alternate baking universe, it's also a verb – I snickerdoodle everything. Blondies, muffins, donut holes. I even use it in my coffee and cappucino. How can someone not like cinnamon is beyond my understanding. Anyway, easy-peasy recipe. Perfect for coffee o'clock ;) or evening milk and cookies or mid-afternoon cravings… Sigh of content.
Soft and Chewy Snickerdoodles
1/2 cup butter, softened (100g)
3/4 cup sugar (150g)
1 egg
1 cup 6 Tbsp flour (170g)
1 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp baking soda
Coating:
1 Tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp cinnamon
|Make 1 inch balls and chill , which is absolutely necessary or you'll have to add much more flour.
Roll in the coating.
Bake 8 mn at 350°F/180°C.
Cool on a wire rack.
Keep in an airtight container for up to a week. Good luck with that! They disappear like snow on a summer day.
PS: Anyone wants a good recipe for handpies I mentioned in this chapter? Just let me know ;)