Stargate SG1 Fanfic: D is for Daniel - Denial Is Not Just A River In Egypt
Title: D is for Daniel - Denial Is Not Just A River In Egypt
Author: hummingfly67
Rating: PG-13/Teen
Summary: Vala seeks out the one person that keeps the quiet at bay
Disclaimer: Not mine. MGM has that honor
A/N: Written for sg_fignewton's Vala's Alphabet Soup. Thank-you to sg_fignewton for beta!
*****
She doesn’t like the quiet.
That is when her mind runs riot, thinking thoughts (dark and terrifying thoughts) she’d rather not think ever again. The times when those thoughts get too loud, so loud she wonders how she doesn’t go insane (and honestly sometimes she thinks it just might be too late to worry about that particular demon) she seeks out the one person that keeps the quiet at bay.
Vala determinedly bounces into Daniel’s office, a bright smile fixed firmly in place. "Daniel, darling, I am quite literally starving!" she announces. "You must take me to dinner." Her energy and motion carry her to his work counter, and she collapses against it dramatically, managing to toss her hair back artfully in the process.
All in vain, it seems, as Daniel doesn’t even look up from the text he has his nose buried in she notes with a quick peek in his direction. Her spirits plummet slightly.
“Hmmm...what? Did you say something, Vala?” he mumbles, index finger tapping at a passage in the book as he turns his head to the right to peer at another book - one of several scattered around him.
Well, at least he knows it is her. She cheers herself with that thought as she straightens and props her chin on one palm, elbow on the counter. Reaching out with her free hand, she gives his book a little nudge. “Dinner, Daniel. You need to take me to dinner. I’m starving.”
He bats at her hand irritably, sending her a brief frown before he resumes reading. “You know the way to the mess hall, Vala.”
“Of course I know the way, silly,” she responds lightly, sidling closer to him. “But I want to go to dinner with you.” She pokes his khaki-covered bicep in synchrony with ‘you’. “Actually I think you should take me out for dinner, out of the mountain.”
Daniel sighs, and lifts his head to stare at her, brow furrowed and looking adorably befuddled. “And why would I do that?”
“Because we still haven’t had our date yet!” she says earnestly, suppressing the urge to bat her eyelashes at him (it really irritates him, and never works anyway). “Our official first date,” she amends, “since the original one was so rudely interrupted.”
He sighs again. “Vala...it wasn’t a date. How many times do I have to keep saying that?”
“I know, I know...two friends and co-workers, blah blah blah,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “Really, Daniel, how long are you going to drag out that nut on your chest?”
Daniel blinks rapidly, automatically glancing down at himself before meeting her gaze again. “Wha-? Oh! That’s chestnut, Vala. Chestnut.” He adjusts his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. “Etymology suggests-“
“Yes, yes. Spare me the lecture, Daniel!” she interrupts. “As I was saying, you really need to come up with a new excuse. That ‘not a date’” - she uses air quotes - “line is getting tired. No one is buying it.”
He blusters, cheeks reddening and mouth opening and closing fruitlessly. It’s not the most attractive of looks, but she senses that might be a conversation for another day.
After a deep breath or two, he seems more in control. “Vala, I need to get my notes in order for tomorrow’s mission briefing, and it’s going to be a late night as it is. Go ask Cameron or Teal’c to go for dinner.”
His tone is final, but she takes comfort in the fact that it is neither angry nor frustrated.
“I’ll leave you to it then, Daniel,” she tells him as she flounces out of his office. “We’ll plan our date for another night.”
His protest is half-hearted at best and Vala smiles as she heads to the elevator to go the mess hall. Now she really is starving.
***
Early the next morning, the team discusses their next mission to PX-something or other. Really, why does SGC insist on these ridiculous alpha-numerical designations? Names, now that is a clever idea. And so much easier to remember. The Daniel in her head begins a lecture on binary code extrapolation and she tunes him out, unable to contain a yawn. Glancing up quickly, she is relieved to see only Muscles appears to have noticed, and if she is not mistaken that arch of his eyebrow is one of amusement.
She amuses herself by doodling on her notepad. Certainly Daniel will assume she is taking notes on the mission, and see this as diligent and industrious of her - won’t he? If he knew the truth, he’d be disappointed, and would most likely accuse her of not being serious, of making a mockery of the system and their efforts. She isn’t, though. She is fully capable of dividing her attention in more than one direction at a time. Honestly, how did he think she survived in the wilds of the galaxy? Good looks and charm only get a girl so far.
Besides, she knows her team will always have each others’ fives. No, wait. It is sixes. Like the clock; six refers to someone behind you. Though personally she thinks her behind is a ten. Worst-case scenario, an eight. Those horrid one-piece coveralls, for instance. She shudders inwardly.
The real Daniel drones on, much as the Daniel in her head often does. She thinks to herself how sad is it that he lectures her in her head as much as he does in reality, and has to hide her sigh of melancholy.
Returning her attention to her notepad, she quietly flips to a clean sheet of paper and proceeds to draw a fairly decent caricature of Daniel, if she does say so herself. Adding glasses gives it that final touch, and distinctively distinguishes the picture from Cameron, if she were ever to draw one of the Colonel. For added measure, she writes Daniel’s name underneath the drawing.
Daniel
She admires her scrolling penmanship; how the little loop at the bottom of the ‘D’ of his name swirls into the ‘a’, the flourish of the ‘l’ at the end. Her keen eye spies something else as well, something she’d never noticed before. If one were to switch two of the vowels in Daniel’s name, one would end up with ‘denial’.
With an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, she sits up straighter, clutching the notepad to her chest, and turns her full attention to Cameron, who has taken over the briefing from Daniel. Now is not the time to ponder her own capacity for denial.
*****
Fini
.
Author: hummingfly67
Rating: PG-13/Teen
Summary: Vala seeks out the one person that keeps the quiet at bay
Disclaimer: Not mine. MGM has that honor
A/N: Written for sg_fignewton's Vala's Alphabet Soup. Thank-you to sg_fignewton for beta!
*****
She doesn’t like the quiet.
That is when her mind runs riot, thinking thoughts (dark and terrifying thoughts) she’d rather not think ever again. The times when those thoughts get too loud, so loud she wonders how she doesn’t go insane (and honestly sometimes she thinks it just might be too late to worry about that particular demon) she seeks out the one person that keeps the quiet at bay.
Vala determinedly bounces into Daniel’s office, a bright smile fixed firmly in place. "Daniel, darling, I am quite literally starving!" she announces. "You must take me to dinner." Her energy and motion carry her to his work counter, and she collapses against it dramatically, managing to toss her hair back artfully in the process.
All in vain, it seems, as Daniel doesn’t even look up from the text he has his nose buried in she notes with a quick peek in his direction. Her spirits plummet slightly.
“Hmmm...what? Did you say something, Vala?” he mumbles, index finger tapping at a passage in the book as he turns his head to the right to peer at another book - one of several scattered around him.
Well, at least he knows it is her. She cheers herself with that thought as she straightens and props her chin on one palm, elbow on the counter. Reaching out with her free hand, she gives his book a little nudge. “Dinner, Daniel. You need to take me to dinner. I’m starving.”
He bats at her hand irritably, sending her a brief frown before he resumes reading. “You know the way to the mess hall, Vala.”
“Of course I know the way, silly,” she responds lightly, sidling closer to him. “But I want to go to dinner with you.” She pokes his khaki-covered bicep in synchrony with ‘you’. “Actually I think you should take me out for dinner, out of the mountain.”
Daniel sighs, and lifts his head to stare at her, brow furrowed and looking adorably befuddled. “And why would I do that?”
“Because we still haven’t had our date yet!” she says earnestly, suppressing the urge to bat her eyelashes at him (it really irritates him, and never works anyway). “Our official first date,” she amends, “since the original one was so rudely interrupted.”
He sighs again. “Vala...it wasn’t a date. How many times do I have to keep saying that?”
“I know, I know...two friends and co-workers, blah blah blah,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “Really, Daniel, how long are you going to drag out that nut on your chest?”
Daniel blinks rapidly, automatically glancing down at himself before meeting her gaze again. “Wha-? Oh! That’s chestnut, Vala. Chestnut.” He adjusts his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. “Etymology suggests-“
“Yes, yes. Spare me the lecture, Daniel!” she interrupts. “As I was saying, you really need to come up with a new excuse. That ‘not a date’” - she uses air quotes - “line is getting tired. No one is buying it.”
He blusters, cheeks reddening and mouth opening and closing fruitlessly. It’s not the most attractive of looks, but she senses that might be a conversation for another day.
After a deep breath or two, he seems more in control. “Vala, I need to get my notes in order for tomorrow’s mission briefing, and it’s going to be a late night as it is. Go ask Cameron or Teal’c to go for dinner.”
His tone is final, but she takes comfort in the fact that it is neither angry nor frustrated.
“I’ll leave you to it then, Daniel,” she tells him as she flounces out of his office. “We’ll plan our date for another night.”
His protest is half-hearted at best and Vala smiles as she heads to the elevator to go the mess hall. Now she really is starving.
***
Early the next morning, the team discusses their next mission to PX-something or other. Really, why does SGC insist on these ridiculous alpha-numerical designations? Names, now that is a clever idea. And so much easier to remember. The Daniel in her head begins a lecture on binary code extrapolation and she tunes him out, unable to contain a yawn. Glancing up quickly, she is relieved to see only Muscles appears to have noticed, and if she is not mistaken that arch of his eyebrow is one of amusement.
She amuses herself by doodling on her notepad. Certainly Daniel will assume she is taking notes on the mission, and see this as diligent and industrious of her - won’t he? If he knew the truth, he’d be disappointed, and would most likely accuse her of not being serious, of making a mockery of the system and their efforts. She isn’t, though. She is fully capable of dividing her attention in more than one direction at a time. Honestly, how did he think she survived in the wilds of the galaxy? Good looks and charm only get a girl so far.
Besides, she knows her team will always have each others’ fives. No, wait. It is sixes. Like the clock; six refers to someone behind you. Though personally she thinks her behind is a ten. Worst-case scenario, an eight. Those horrid one-piece coveralls, for instance. She shudders inwardly.
The real Daniel drones on, much as the Daniel in her head often does. She thinks to herself how sad is it that he lectures her in her head as much as he does in reality, and has to hide her sigh of melancholy.
Returning her attention to her notepad, she quietly flips to a clean sheet of paper and proceeds to draw a fairly decent caricature of Daniel, if she does say so herself. Adding glasses gives it that final touch, and distinctively distinguishes the picture from Cameron, if she were ever to draw one of the Colonel. For added measure, she writes Daniel’s name underneath the drawing.
Daniel
She admires her scrolling penmanship; how the little loop at the bottom of the ‘D’ of his name swirls into the ‘a’, the flourish of the ‘l’ at the end. Her keen eye spies something else as well, something she’d never noticed before. If one were to switch two of the vowels in Daniel’s name, one would end up with ‘denial’.
With an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, she sits up straighter, clutching the notepad to her chest, and turns her full attention to Cameron, who has taken over the briefing from Daniel. Now is not the time to ponder her own capacity for denial.
*****
Fini
.