Daniel/Vala Fic-"You and I, Both"
Disclaimer: All characters the property of MGM Pictures. All are used without permission of their owners.
Rating: R
Summary: Daniel/Vala post “Counterstrike”.
Notes: This one started out with PWP in mind but the characters had other ideas. Who knew?
Thanks to sunshine and sarahjane, my fellow fic writers from the Farscape realm, for their suggestions and help and especially to sarahjane for her significant help (i.e. writing) with the ending. I know this isn’t necessarily canon; I’m not sure Daniel is quite at this point yet but…I couldn’t help but wish he was.
All mistakes remain mine. This is my second SG1 story.
Shut your eyes and think of somewhere
Somewhere cold and caked in snow
By the fire we break the quiet
Learn to wear each other well
~~~Snow Patrol, “Shut Your Eyes”
He wandered the halls, hands shoved deep in his pockets, head down. The base was on night watch, as close to lights out as it got.
He should have gone home hours ago.
The photograph in your office.
Sha're
He'd done quite a job of letting go of his wife. The picture still hung on the wall, a constant companion, and maybe too much time had passed since the name had crossed his lips.
The dust of discovery. Ancients. Ascension. So many other losses, too many to count…
Distractions.
What lay in his heart now was not the same as what coursed through his body. Not lust, not even desire, necessarily but something almost as compelling.
Need.
Believe it not, I know how you feel.
Relief.
...or risk being left behind.
So he walked, passing by her door on each round, the innocuous grey deceptively innocent. She knew how to drive him insane, how to challenge every notion of adult behavior that he held in any kind of esteem, yet intrigued him just when he thought he had her figured out.
Mitchell would have already cut to the chase. Sometimes he wondered if Mitchell already had. He seemed more her type--reckless, take charge--a man who would gladly handle a woman like her.
He didn't know why the thought kept him awake at night.
"Daniel Jackson?"
Teal'c's bulk interrupted his forward progress; head down, Daniel hadn't seen the silent mass in front of him.
"Teal'c!" Daniel put one foot back, regaining his balance.
"Are you well?" Teal'c raised an eyebrow in inquiry.
"Um…fine. You? Isn't it a little late?"
"I had the same thought upon seeing you.” He tilted his head, making Daniel feel like the big man would see right through him. “You are not going home this evening."
It wasn’t a question.
"No...No. I--Teal'c.” He put a hand on Teal’c’s shoulder. “I'm sorry. About Dakara."
Teal'c nodded his acknowledgement. “My brothers annihilated entire villages of innocents, only to find themselves destroyed."
Daniel heard the catch in his friend's voice, betraying his emotion.
"They were desperate," he said.
"So said Colonel Mitchell. We have all suffered a loss today." Teal'c nodded towards the door. Daniel followed his gaze.
The grey door, innocuous, like every other in this corridor...
"Yes. Yes, we have."
"Perhaps Vala Mal Doran would find comfort in your words. As I have."
Words? If it were only that easy.
Daniel shrugged, then looked at him. "Are you going to be all right?"
Teal'c nodded. "My concern is for Bra'tac. General Landry has provided him accommodations.” His eyes softened but his voice was still strong. “I was on my way to see him."
"Well...I won't keep you."
"Nor I, you.” Teal'c nodded again. “Good night, Daniel Jackson."
Daniel thought he saw a faint smile cross the man's lips. What kind of signals was he giving off, anyway?
He stepped towards the door, taking one hand out of his pockets, head still down. Three sharp raps, no response. He was about to turn away when he heard her voice, soft and low.
"Come in."
He opened the door just wide enough to slip through like he was trying to avoid detection. As if every damned corridor didn't already have a security camera aimed at it.
So much for stealth.
She sat on the edge of the twin size bed, still wearing the long sleeved black t-shirt that she had managed to alter so that it wasn't quite regulation. The sleeves were pushed up. A pair of Air Force issue grey gym shorts covered her legs to her upper thighs, the remaining skin bare.
Long legs, smooth and pale, bare feet, the curve of her neck-
He tore his eyes away.
Enough.
She didn’t look up. He walked past her bed to the small desk near an open closet door. The desk was tidy--a hairbrush, a black leather bound journal and a pen, shiny hair clips. An SG1 patch.
He turned to the open closet. A wealth of black, green and Air Force blue filled most of the space, along with a few brightly colored blouses. Someone had obviously taken her shopping.
His fingers reached for the SG-1 patch.
"Colonel Mitchell gave me that."
Daniel turned around at the sound of her voice, the patch in his hands.
She shook her hair back. "He said as team leader, he wanted to make sure I had my 'eyes on the prize'." She shrugged. "I assume he meant it as an incentive."
"Yeah. That seems right." He put the patch down. "So...has he been by to check on you?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Colonel Mitchell? No. Why would he?"
"Team leader and all that."
"He gave that to me after General Landry allowed me to stay. Colonel Carter brought some non-regulation clothing not too long after, in the event I needed it."
"Oh..." He felt like a fool.
"I suspect the general ordered her to."
"No. Sam's pretty empathetic to your situation."
"Is she?" Vala turned away.
He could see the sag of her shoulders, weighed down by this cramped little room, suffocating in its blues and greys and greens. It was suddenly too much, and he slid his eyes around, away from her.
Small television in the corner on a plain table. Nearly colorless walls and bedding, nothing that personalized it but the little hair clips on the desk. She could be gone tomorrow and there would be nothing left to show she'd ever existed.
"Can I sit?" he said, before really registering that there was no place but the bed.
She moved towards the pillows at the head of the bed, making space for him. He sat down, close enough that they were almost touching.
"Why are you here?" she said.
"I...I thought you might need to talk." He sat up straight, trying to keep his eyes on the wall in front of him.
"So you felt sorry for me."
"Vala..."
"Do you think I abandoned her, Daniel? My daughter?”
He glanced sideways. Her gaze was fixed on the wall in front of them, faraway. “What do you think?” he asked.
“How can you abandon something that was never yours? I would have stayed with her. I believed it, believed I could save her. You believed it with…Sha’re?”
“Yes.” He nodded his head once, certain.
“Yet, she was lost to you.”
“Sometimes choices aren’t ours to make. We live with the outcome whether we like it or not.”
“Tomin loved me.” She turned to him and gave him a half smile. “I thought I could do it, live there, among his people. Make a home. Raise a child…” She paused, fingers twisting in her lap. “What Adria’s doing is wrong. If you all hadn’t beamed me back, I would have found a way to stop her.”
“You’d have been risking total destruction.” He reached out, grabbed her hands in both of his.
“Are you?” She turned to him fully and leaned forward, encroaching on him, breathing his air. She smelled sweet; earthy, alien. Familiar. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, within his reach.
He didn’t want to be played. Vulnerable woman, grieving mother, abandoned wife-whatever the role was today…
I don’t want to be played.
“I’m too tired for games, Daniel.”
He looked straight at her, finally, not ducking away, not distracted. He smoothed his fingers over her cheek, soft under his touch. Her breathing was steady but his sped up in rhythm with his heart, the warmth of her skin flowing through his veins, stirring him deep within.
Who was playing whom?
“Daniel…”
“Ssh…” He rested a finger on her lips then moved into her, brushing his lips over hers. Hand on her knee, moving slowly upwards. She turned her body towards him, pressing into his chest, her hands in his hair.
"Daniel." His name parted her lips.
Crazy. This is crazy.
Now he was doing the leading, going somewhere he thought she had wanted to go; somewhere he'd refused to be led.
Why now? Is this what you want? What is she to you?
Is it what she wants?
She was one more thing he couldn't decipher, speaking a language he didn't understand.
Her hands slid up his chest and under the shoulders of his jacket. He shrugged it off, lips still pressed against hers. Her fingertips feathered down his arms to the waistband of his pants as she tugged his t-shirt free then slid her hands along his stomach and chest, down again, fingers fumbling with his belt buckle.
Suddenly she pulled away and studied him, eyes wide and liquid, betraying the solitude that permeated the room, making it, and her, so much smaller. All her masks were stripped away. What was left was a testament to something he could catalog: A host. Tortured. Used. Discarded.
Wife.
Mother.
"Daniel." She was still looking at him, no trace of a smile, none of that sardonic glint in her eyes. Waiting.
Her real face?
His call.
He could do up his pants and turn around now, leave her-
"I...appreciate..." She cleared her throat and shrugged. "The effort..."
"No. It's not--"
This time she put her fingers over his lips. "I don't know what this is, but I know what it's not. And I know it's not what I want." She gave him a half smile. "Not now, anyway.” She drew her fingers away.
"There's someone else?" The words came out before he stopped to think about them--about anything when it came to her.
What the hell is wrong with you? What did you want? Expect?
He was past thinking. Was he really that juvenile that he couldn't stand the idea that her interest might turn to someone else?
Mitchell?
Damn the devil in his ear.
She has a husband.
"Someone else?" She laughed deep in her throat. "Colonel Mitchell? Teal'c?" She paused, raised an eyebrow. "Colonel Carter, perhaps? You don't analyze the living very well, do you?"
He sighed. "I...You looked...Like you needed..." He sat there, pants still unbuckled, his desire not ebbing in spite of how stupid he felt.
"Needed." She turned away, staring at the naked grey wall. "Perhaps. But not now."
"I...I'm sorry." He moved to stand but she grabbed him by the wrist, holding him in place.
"I'm not Sha're."
"No."
They sat close enough that he felt her sigh, saw the rise and fall of her chest as he glanced at her.
"I'm afraid, Daniel." The words came slowly, close to a whisper. "I've brought something into this world and I'm not sure I can stop it."
"It's going to be okay." He put his arm around her, pulling her close. She leaned against him.
I'm not Sha're.
Was that all he'd needed?
"Adria will stop at nothing," she said.
"Vala." He pulled away, cupped his hand under her chin and turned her face towards him. "You're not in this alone.” He tried to look past the moisture glistening in her eyes as she bit her lip, struggling for composure. "It's our fight. Not just yours.”
He watched the realization flare deep in her eyes: my fight, not ours. Then it was gone, replaced with grace and giving. He shivered slightly; sudden knowledge, cold, settling bone-deep.
The need was his.
She nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder, hair tickling his neck, warm breath at his ear. “Thank you,” she said.
He held her close and dropped a kiss into her hair. Breathing her in one last time, he stood, ran the backs of his fingers along the silk of her cheek. Her eyes drifted closed as he slowly trailed his fingertips along her jaw line. With a soft exhale, an unspoken whisper of promise, he turned and slipped silently from her room.
#END#
Rating: R
Summary: Daniel/Vala post “Counterstrike”.
Notes: This one started out with PWP in mind but the characters had other ideas. Who knew?
Thanks to sunshine and sarahjane, my fellow fic writers from the Farscape realm, for their suggestions and help and especially to sarahjane for her significant help (i.e. writing) with the ending. I know this isn’t necessarily canon; I’m not sure Daniel is quite at this point yet but…I couldn’t help but wish he was.
All mistakes remain mine. This is my second SG1 story.
Shut your eyes and think of somewhere
Somewhere cold and caked in snow
By the fire we break the quiet
Learn to wear each other well
~~~Snow Patrol, “Shut Your Eyes”
He wandered the halls, hands shoved deep in his pockets, head down. The base was on night watch, as close to lights out as it got.
He should have gone home hours ago.
The photograph in your office.
Sha're
He'd done quite a job of letting go of his wife. The picture still hung on the wall, a constant companion, and maybe too much time had passed since the name had crossed his lips.
The dust of discovery. Ancients. Ascension. So many other losses, too many to count…
Distractions.
What lay in his heart now was not the same as what coursed through his body. Not lust, not even desire, necessarily but something almost as compelling.
Need.
Believe it not, I know how you feel.
Relief.
...or risk being left behind.
So he walked, passing by her door on each round, the innocuous grey deceptively innocent. She knew how to drive him insane, how to challenge every notion of adult behavior that he held in any kind of esteem, yet intrigued him just when he thought he had her figured out.
Mitchell would have already cut to the chase. Sometimes he wondered if Mitchell already had. He seemed more her type--reckless, take charge--a man who would gladly handle a woman like her.
He didn't know why the thought kept him awake at night.
"Daniel Jackson?"
Teal'c's bulk interrupted his forward progress; head down, Daniel hadn't seen the silent mass in front of him.
"Teal'c!" Daniel put one foot back, regaining his balance.
"Are you well?" Teal'c raised an eyebrow in inquiry.
"Um…fine. You? Isn't it a little late?"
"I had the same thought upon seeing you.” He tilted his head, making Daniel feel like the big man would see right through him. “You are not going home this evening."
It wasn’t a question.
"No...No. I--Teal'c.” He put a hand on Teal’c’s shoulder. “I'm sorry. About Dakara."
Teal'c nodded his acknowledgement. “My brothers annihilated entire villages of innocents, only to find themselves destroyed."
Daniel heard the catch in his friend's voice, betraying his emotion.
"They were desperate," he said.
"So said Colonel Mitchell. We have all suffered a loss today." Teal'c nodded towards the door. Daniel followed his gaze.
The grey door, innocuous, like every other in this corridor...
"Yes. Yes, we have."
"Perhaps Vala Mal Doran would find comfort in your words. As I have."
Words? If it were only that easy.
Daniel shrugged, then looked at him. "Are you going to be all right?"
Teal'c nodded. "My concern is for Bra'tac. General Landry has provided him accommodations.” His eyes softened but his voice was still strong. “I was on my way to see him."
"Well...I won't keep you."
"Nor I, you.” Teal'c nodded again. “Good night, Daniel Jackson."
Daniel thought he saw a faint smile cross the man's lips. What kind of signals was he giving off, anyway?
He stepped towards the door, taking one hand out of his pockets, head still down. Three sharp raps, no response. He was about to turn away when he heard her voice, soft and low.
"Come in."
He opened the door just wide enough to slip through like he was trying to avoid detection. As if every damned corridor didn't already have a security camera aimed at it.
So much for stealth.
She sat on the edge of the twin size bed, still wearing the long sleeved black t-shirt that she had managed to alter so that it wasn't quite regulation. The sleeves were pushed up. A pair of Air Force issue grey gym shorts covered her legs to her upper thighs, the remaining skin bare.
Long legs, smooth and pale, bare feet, the curve of her neck-
He tore his eyes away.
Enough.
She didn’t look up. He walked past her bed to the small desk near an open closet door. The desk was tidy--a hairbrush, a black leather bound journal and a pen, shiny hair clips. An SG1 patch.
He turned to the open closet. A wealth of black, green and Air Force blue filled most of the space, along with a few brightly colored blouses. Someone had obviously taken her shopping.
His fingers reached for the SG-1 patch.
"Colonel Mitchell gave me that."
Daniel turned around at the sound of her voice, the patch in his hands.
She shook her hair back. "He said as team leader, he wanted to make sure I had my 'eyes on the prize'." She shrugged. "I assume he meant it as an incentive."
"Yeah. That seems right." He put the patch down. "So...has he been by to check on you?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Colonel Mitchell? No. Why would he?"
"Team leader and all that."
"He gave that to me after General Landry allowed me to stay. Colonel Carter brought some non-regulation clothing not too long after, in the event I needed it."
"Oh..." He felt like a fool.
"I suspect the general ordered her to."
"No. Sam's pretty empathetic to your situation."
"Is she?" Vala turned away.
He could see the sag of her shoulders, weighed down by this cramped little room, suffocating in its blues and greys and greens. It was suddenly too much, and he slid his eyes around, away from her.
Small television in the corner on a plain table. Nearly colorless walls and bedding, nothing that personalized it but the little hair clips on the desk. She could be gone tomorrow and there would be nothing left to show she'd ever existed.
"Can I sit?" he said, before really registering that there was no place but the bed.
She moved towards the pillows at the head of the bed, making space for him. He sat down, close enough that they were almost touching.
"Why are you here?" she said.
"I...I thought you might need to talk." He sat up straight, trying to keep his eyes on the wall in front of him.
"So you felt sorry for me."
"Vala..."
"Do you think I abandoned her, Daniel? My daughter?”
He glanced sideways. Her gaze was fixed on the wall in front of them, faraway. “What do you think?” he asked.
“How can you abandon something that was never yours? I would have stayed with her. I believed it, believed I could save her. You believed it with…Sha’re?”
“Yes.” He nodded his head once, certain.
“Yet, she was lost to you.”
“Sometimes choices aren’t ours to make. We live with the outcome whether we like it or not.”
“Tomin loved me.” She turned to him and gave him a half smile. “I thought I could do it, live there, among his people. Make a home. Raise a child…” She paused, fingers twisting in her lap. “What Adria’s doing is wrong. If you all hadn’t beamed me back, I would have found a way to stop her.”
“You’d have been risking total destruction.” He reached out, grabbed her hands in both of his.
“Are you?” She turned to him fully and leaned forward, encroaching on him, breathing his air. She smelled sweet; earthy, alien. Familiar. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, within his reach.
He didn’t want to be played. Vulnerable woman, grieving mother, abandoned wife-whatever the role was today…
I don’t want to be played.
“I’m too tired for games, Daniel.”
He looked straight at her, finally, not ducking away, not distracted. He smoothed his fingers over her cheek, soft under his touch. Her breathing was steady but his sped up in rhythm with his heart, the warmth of her skin flowing through his veins, stirring him deep within.
Who was playing whom?
“Daniel…”
“Ssh…” He rested a finger on her lips then moved into her, brushing his lips over hers. Hand on her knee, moving slowly upwards. She turned her body towards him, pressing into his chest, her hands in his hair.
"Daniel." His name parted her lips.
Crazy. This is crazy.
Now he was doing the leading, going somewhere he thought she had wanted to go; somewhere he'd refused to be led.
Why now? Is this what you want? What is she to you?
Is it what she wants?
She was one more thing he couldn't decipher, speaking a language he didn't understand.
Her hands slid up his chest and under the shoulders of his jacket. He shrugged it off, lips still pressed against hers. Her fingertips feathered down his arms to the waistband of his pants as she tugged his t-shirt free then slid her hands along his stomach and chest, down again, fingers fumbling with his belt buckle.
Suddenly she pulled away and studied him, eyes wide and liquid, betraying the solitude that permeated the room, making it, and her, so much smaller. All her masks were stripped away. What was left was a testament to something he could catalog: A host. Tortured. Used. Discarded.
Wife.
Mother.
"Daniel." She was still looking at him, no trace of a smile, none of that sardonic glint in her eyes. Waiting.
Her real face?
His call.
He could do up his pants and turn around now, leave her-
"I...appreciate..." She cleared her throat and shrugged. "The effort..."
"No. It's not--"
This time she put her fingers over his lips. "I don't know what this is, but I know what it's not. And I know it's not what I want." She gave him a half smile. "Not now, anyway.” She drew her fingers away.
"There's someone else?" The words came out before he stopped to think about them--about anything when it came to her.
What the hell is wrong with you? What did you want? Expect?
He was past thinking. Was he really that juvenile that he couldn't stand the idea that her interest might turn to someone else?
Mitchell?
Damn the devil in his ear.
She has a husband.
"Someone else?" She laughed deep in her throat. "Colonel Mitchell? Teal'c?" She paused, raised an eyebrow. "Colonel Carter, perhaps? You don't analyze the living very well, do you?"
He sighed. "I...You looked...Like you needed..." He sat there, pants still unbuckled, his desire not ebbing in spite of how stupid he felt.
"Needed." She turned away, staring at the naked grey wall. "Perhaps. But not now."
"I...I'm sorry." He moved to stand but she grabbed him by the wrist, holding him in place.
"I'm not Sha're."
"No."
They sat close enough that he felt her sigh, saw the rise and fall of her chest as he glanced at her.
"I'm afraid, Daniel." The words came slowly, close to a whisper. "I've brought something into this world and I'm not sure I can stop it."
"It's going to be okay." He put his arm around her, pulling her close. She leaned against him.
I'm not Sha're.
Was that all he'd needed?
"Adria will stop at nothing," she said.
"Vala." He pulled away, cupped his hand under her chin and turned her face towards him. "You're not in this alone.” He tried to look past the moisture glistening in her eyes as she bit her lip, struggling for composure. "It's our fight. Not just yours.”
He watched the realization flare deep in her eyes: my fight, not ours. Then it was gone, replaced with grace and giving. He shivered slightly; sudden knowledge, cold, settling bone-deep.
The need was his.
She nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder, hair tickling his neck, warm breath at his ear. “Thank you,” she said.
He held her close and dropped a kiss into her hair. Breathing her in one last time, he stood, ran the backs of his fingers along the silk of her cheek. Her eyes drifted closed as he slowly trailed his fingertips along her jaw line. With a soft exhale, an unspoken whisper of promise, he turned and slipped silently from her room.
#END#