You Can Be More...
The second time Vala wakes up in the Prometheus' prison, she knows exactly where she is without having to open her eyes. She just wishes she'd known of the small room's existence before she'd tied her hostage up on the bridge. If she'd only taken the time to properly explore the ship she'd acquired, all of this unpleasantness could have been avoided and she'd be merrily on way with the naquada by now. Rich, happy, and a lot better dressed.
Speaking of which… she quickly checks to make sure she's still wearing something. Relaxes as she feels the coarse Tau'ri material under her fingers. She'd have preferred her Kull armour, but clearly these people didn't let their prisoners keep their possessions. Terribly rude of them.
"Morning, sleepyhead," calls a familiar and entirely too cheerful voice.
Vala groans, pushing herself upright and opening her eyes. Much to her surprise, Daniel Jackson is locked in the room with her this time, instead of a disembodied voice. Leant against the opposite wall, weapon pointed at her and still dishevelled from their fight, he looks far more attractive than she felt at that moment. Frankly, Vala scowls at him, it's more than a little unfair.
"You shot me," she accuses. "Again."
"Yeah," Daniel shrugs unrepentantly.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous that is with a Zat'nik'tel?" she asks, pushing her hair out of her face. "You could've killed me."
"Oh, I doubt it," he says. "Cockroaches are hard to kill."
Unsure of the reference, Vala raises an eyebrow at him but the stubborn man refuses to elaborate. "You do of course realise," she asks him, "that a second shot within six hours carries a very real risk of stopping the heart?"
"Oh, bull-hickey!" Daniel explodes. "You think I haven't been shot enough with these things to know the effects wear off as soon as you wake up?"
Vala's other eyebrow joins the first. Did he really not understand just how dangerous repeated Zat'nik'tel blasts could be? These Tau'ri were amazingly ignorant. Exactly how such a backward people had managed to construct a hyperdrive system that was far and away the most powerful she'd ever seen was a mystery. Oh, what she wouldn't give for more time alone with this ship. She has a feeling she hadn't begun to scratch the surface of its full capabilities. Given a couple more hours and a few of her own enhancements, she knows she could have made it sing like a six-headed Tralkan bird.
Still, no using dwelling on what might have been. She needs to focus on the here and now, and figure out a way out of this room and off the ship.
"So…" she purrs, leaning back seductively, "Come to kiss and make-up?"
Daniel scoffs.
Right. Of course. You know, if it wasn't for some very hard evidence that she'd personally sat on not once, but twice, she'd think he preferred men. Well, that and the fact that he'd kissed her back. Rather well actually. Until he'd stopped to call her a fruitcake.
She hadn't needed to understand the context to know it wasn't a compliment.
"Here to gloat?" she guesses.
"Hardly," he fires back.
Vala gulps, quivers her bottom lip, and deliberately blanches before whispering, "Torture then."
"What?" he snaps, his blue eyes wide and incredulous. "No!"
"Then why are you here, Daniel?" she asks, using the wall to push herself to her feet, making herself appear weaker than she feels. Less of a threat.
"Ah, ah, ah," he warns, motioning for her to stay back with the Zat'nik'tel.
Vala makes her body language as cringing as possible, wrapping her arms around her waist, and hunching. She really doesn't want to get shot again. It could ruin any chance she might have of escaping. Not to mention, kill her!
Daniel sighs, shoulders slumping. His eyes flick up to the black surveillance device embedded in the ceiling, and Vala calculates her chances on getting her hand on his weapon (she's not fussed if it's the one in his hand or the one in his pants. She can work with either), but only for a split-second before he focusses back on her.
All of a sudden he looks exhausted, and thoroughly disillusioned. As though he can see right into the very essence of her being and doesn't much like what he sees. If she was honest (which she rarely is), she doesn't much like the Vala he sees either. She somehow has the terrible feeling that she's disappointed him and it's strangely unbearable. All things considered, Vala decides that she much preferred the way he looked at her on the bridge after she healed him. Or even when he was calling her a fruitcake.
"Have you come to kill me?"
"No!" And just like that the fire is back in his eyes as he protests, "God, no! How could you even think that?"
"Well, what am I supposed to think?" Vala snaps back, using anger to burn away a moment of vulnerability and self-doubt. "You stand there, talking about killing cockroses-"
"Cockroaches."
"You're not here to gloat, or to torture me, or kill me, but you won't tell me what you do want or why you're here!"
"Because we're sending you back to Earth!" Daniel shouts back at her.
Vala blinks, "What? But-"
"But what, Vala?" Daniel interrupts her, "You thought we'd just keep you in here all the way to Atlantis and back? I don't think so! Right now we don't even know if we can repair Prometheus enough to get us there, let alone back. And even if we can, General Hammond's sending you back to Earth with SG-3 and the Alkesh, and then it's off to a holding cell at Area 51."
"For how long?"
"Forever!"
Given the number of prisons Vala has escaped from, she doubts anything built by the Tau'ri could hold her for much more than a few days, never mind forever. But it is awfully sweet of him to be concerned. The real question is, was he concerned enough to help her escape?
"Look, I'm sorry I jeopardised your rescue mission-"
"No, you're not! You're only sorry you got caught." Daniel thought for a moment and then added, "And that you missed out on that case-load of weapons-grade naquada."
"So, why not just drop me on the nearest planet with a Stargate and we'll call it even, darling?"
"No!"
"What if you forgot to lock the door behind you?" she suggested. "I promise, you wouldn't have to do anything else-"
"Vala, you hijacked our ship!"
Well, yes. Because really, how else was a girl supposed to make a living in this galaxy?
For a moment Vala glimpses the vast gulf, far wider than the mere span of this small room, that lies between them, and she finds herself marvelling at the kind of world this Earth must be forge a man so capable, so determined and true, and yet so unbelievably, utterly naïve. And she wonders how she can possibly make him understand. Because she thinks that somehow he could, maybe. If she can find the right words to explain it to him. The problem is, she's lied to him too many times now for him to believe anything she says. More lies won't work anyway, not if she truly wants him to understand. Which, to her great surprise, she does.
So, for the first time in a very long time, Vala tells the truth. Just the truth.
"I don't know if you've noticed, Daniel, but it's not exactly a Tau'ri paradise out here. It's steal or be stolen from." Daniel grimaces in disgust and opens his mouth to say something, but Vala isn't done talking, "And the Tok'ra aren't exactly handing out renumeration packages with every Goa'uld they rip out of your head. Instead, you get a target on your back and a drastically reduced lifespan. So yes, I lie and I cheat and I steal, and I do everything I can just to stay one step ahead of the thousands of people and entire worlds out there who would like nothing better than to see me dead," her voice cracks on the last word because the truth hurts and by now she's hugging herself tightly, holding back actual tears through sheer force of will, although she can feel them clagging her eyelashes. She can't remember the last time she cried real tears, and she refuses to do so now.
"I'm a thief," Vala shrugs, hopelessly, "and I won't apologise for that."
Across the room Daniel is so still she can barely see him breathing. His eyes are like ice and his face, normally so expressive, is cold and remote. All sharp angles and frigid silence, and she knows now she can never make him understand. She made her words into weapons and flung them all at him, but she's the only one bleeding as they stare at each across the room, across a vast cultural divide that can't be crossed.
When he finally speaks, Daniel's voice is low and bitter, "You can be more."
More?
She's still struggling to understand what he means when Daniel stretches out an arm and bangs on the door. It opens, allowing her a glimpse of an armed guard beyond, and he steps through without so much as a backward glance.
More?
Fury rushes in, cauterising her self-inflicted wounds. He wants her to be more? Fine. She'll show him more. Because Vala Mal Doran isn't just a thief. She's the best Gods-damned thief in the galaxy, and she knows better than to stick around where she's not wanted. Escaping from a locked and guarded room on an enemy spaceship? Childs play.
She just wishes she could be there to see his face when he realises she beat him. Again.