Fic: Anise Rides Again (Part 3)
Title: Anise Rides Again (3/?)
Fandom: Stargate SG1/Supernatural
Rating: PG
Character: Anise/Dean Winchester, Jack O’Neill, Daniel Jackson, George Hammond, Sam Carter, Teal’c
Disclaimer: Stargate, Supernatural and their characters are the property of their respective creators. I own nothing.
Summary: While delivering vital information to earth, Anise takes a new host.
Previous parts here
The year before he died Charlie was diagnosed with ADD. The guidance councilor had said something about excessive fidgeting and trouble focusing. To be completely honest, Jack had been a little busy making chains with the paperclips on the woman’s desk to catch some of the finer points, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean’s father had had a similar conversation. Maybe it was the contrast. Anise had kept a tight rein during the two days they’d been here and Dean’s mealtime appearances were kind of jarring. Anise was regal, controlled, still and Dean, well, wasn’t.
Dean ate everything, even the commissary’s too-dry meatloaf, like he was starring in the food-sex scene in Tom Jones, but now he broke off his edible romance to stare at Daniel in horror. “Dude, how have you not seen them?” He demanded, appalled at Daniel’s ignorance. “They’re like an essential piece of our cultural heritage.”
“Indeed,” Teal’c agreed gravely. “I have seen the original trilogy numerous times.”
Dean nodded emphatically. “See? And he” -he flapped a hand at Teal’c- “is an alien. What’s your excuse? Were you raised in a cave by really nerd-y wolves?”
Daniel sputtered as Dean and Teal’c tag-teamed him with reasons to watch Star Wars. Jack hid his smile behind his coffee mug. Carter was going to be sorry she’d passed up lunch for a doohickey when she heard about this. Well, maybe not, but she’d be sorry she missed the blue jell-O.
Teal’c was in the middle of a surprisingly lengthy lecture on the deeper meaning behind Darth Vader’s character arc when the PA summoned them the control room. Jack stared longingly at his dessert as he headed out. Behind him, Dean and his SF shadow scrambled to follow.
Dean dodged past Daniel and Teal’c to fall in beside Jack. “Do you think it’s the Tok’ra?” He asked, shoveling a fork-ful of pie into his mouth.
Jack frowned at the plate in the younger man’s hand. “You’re actually bringing that?” Why hadn’t he thought of that? The General probably wouldn’t mind too much as long as he didn’t talk with his mouth full.
Dean gave him a look. “Dude, pie!” he indicated the dessert with his fork. It was, Jack had to admit, a good point. It would have been a better point with cake, but you love the one you’re with.
Carter was already in the control room, seated in at the computer and conferring with General Hammond when they arrived. The General looked up as they arrived. “Oh, good. You brought Anise,” he said, evidently missing key Dean indicators like the pie and the way he was checking Carter out. Then again, Jack was pretty sure the General had never actually met the kid when he was the kid. And they did look alike, sort of like identical twins with radically different personalities. Maybe they should invest in one of those Tollan collar thingies so they could always know who was talking.
The sound of the gate firing up interrupted Jack’s musings. Walter sang out the chevrons while Carter did the boring exposition thing. “Since we’ve been unable to raise the Tok’ra on the radio we’re going to send a MALP through,” she explained, gesturing to where the MALP sat waiting at the base of the ramp. Dean jumped as the gate kawooshed open and Jack smirked. Seeing newbies’ reactions never got old. You’d think Anise would have warned him though.
“Here we go,” Carter murmured to herself as she steered the MALP up the ramp and through the event horizon. “We’re receiving telemetry,” Carter announced after a few seconds as a view of an unassuming wall of Tok’ra tunnel appeared on the monitor. Carter began a slow pan of the room. Slumped by the wall, about 45 degrees into the pan, was a dead Tok’ra. He wasn’t anyone Jack recognized, but the uniform was unmistakable.
There was a distinct plop like the sound of a slice of cherry pie hitting the floor, followed by the muffled clatter of a fallen fork and plate. Jack turned just in time to see Dean’s eyes flash as Anise took over. “We must go,” Anise declared.
There was sympathy in General Hammond’s eyes as he turned to face Anise. “We will be sending a team,” he agreed, “but I can not let you leave this planet.”
“They’re my people,” Anise protested, grief and desperation clear in his voice. Jack wondered who the dead man had been. A friend? Colleague? Lover?
“I understand that,” Hammond agreed gently, “but they’re not Mr. Winchester’s.”
A subtle something shifted in the set of his shoulders and Jack knew Dean was back in charge even before he opened his mouth. “Look,” he said, “ I’m not running off to join the Tok’ra circus, but I say we cowboy up and deal with this.” He gestured angrily toward the monitor and the image of the dead Tok’ra.
“Cowboy up?” The General repeated with genuine amusement. “Son,” he chuckled, “do you even know how to use a gun?”
Dean bristled like an affronted cat. “Since I was seven,” he snapped.
Teal’c did his raised eyebrow of surprise. “Is that not unusual among the Tau’ri?” He asked.
“Damn right it is,” Jack growled. He had the sudden urge to hunt down old man Winchester and give him a piece of his mind. What the hell had the man been thinking? What the hell kind of parent gave his seven-year-old a gun? It was a miracle nothing had happened, a miracle he still had a son.
Dean ignored them both, his eyes still locked on the General. “Sir, no one here knows those tunnels like Anise does. You need to find the Tok’ra. You need to figure out what’s going on. We can do that.” Hammond still looked skeptical. After all, how hard would it be for Anise to be pulling the strings here? Jolinar did a damn fine Carter impersonation and they actually knew her well enough that they should have been able to spot the difference. “Look,” said Dean, clearly getting annoyed, “the sooner we find these people the sooner I can get your damn space demon out of my head.”
General Hammond sighed. “Son,” he said, “I can’t just clear a civilian for gate travel.”
“Ah” -Daniel raised his hand- “I’m a civilian,” he pointed out. “You cleared me.” Heck, they’d cleared everyone from Daniel’s grandfather to Felger and Coombs. At least Dean wasn’t an elderly mental patient or a complete idiot.
The General sighed again. “Colonel,” he said, turning to Jack, “ you will be leading the mission.”
So it was Jack’s call then. Dean turned to appeal to him, determination in his eyes. If it had been Anise looking out of them Jack would have said no, but, as it was...“Let’s give him a gun,” Jack said with shrug. “We’ll see if he qualifies.”
*****
Three hours later, it was SG-1 plus guest at the bottom of the ramp, suited up and waiting for the next gate out.
2<<(3)>> 4
Fandom: Stargate SG1/Supernatural
Rating: PG
Character: Anise/Dean Winchester, Jack O’Neill, Daniel Jackson, George Hammond, Sam Carter, Teal’c
Disclaimer: Stargate, Supernatural and their characters are the property of their respective creators. I own nothing.
Summary: While delivering vital information to earth, Anise takes a new host.
Previous parts here
The year before he died Charlie was diagnosed with ADD. The guidance councilor had said something about excessive fidgeting and trouble focusing. To be completely honest, Jack had been a little busy making chains with the paperclips on the woman’s desk to catch some of the finer points, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean’s father had had a similar conversation. Maybe it was the contrast. Anise had kept a tight rein during the two days they’d been here and Dean’s mealtime appearances were kind of jarring. Anise was regal, controlled, still and Dean, well, wasn’t.
Dean ate everything, even the commissary’s too-dry meatloaf, like he was starring in the food-sex scene in Tom Jones, but now he broke off his edible romance to stare at Daniel in horror. “Dude, how have you not seen them?” He demanded, appalled at Daniel’s ignorance. “They’re like an essential piece of our cultural heritage.”
“Indeed,” Teal’c agreed gravely. “I have seen the original trilogy numerous times.”
Dean nodded emphatically. “See? And he” -he flapped a hand at Teal’c- “is an alien. What’s your excuse? Were you raised in a cave by really nerd-y wolves?”
Daniel sputtered as Dean and Teal’c tag-teamed him with reasons to watch Star Wars. Jack hid his smile behind his coffee mug. Carter was going to be sorry she’d passed up lunch for a doohickey when she heard about this. Well, maybe not, but she’d be sorry she missed the blue jell-O.
Teal’c was in the middle of a surprisingly lengthy lecture on the deeper meaning behind Darth Vader’s character arc when the PA summoned them the control room. Jack stared longingly at his dessert as he headed out. Behind him, Dean and his SF shadow scrambled to follow.
Dean dodged past Daniel and Teal’c to fall in beside Jack. “Do you think it’s the Tok’ra?” He asked, shoveling a fork-ful of pie into his mouth.
Jack frowned at the plate in the younger man’s hand. “You’re actually bringing that?” Why hadn’t he thought of that? The General probably wouldn’t mind too much as long as he didn’t talk with his mouth full.
Dean gave him a look. “Dude, pie!” he indicated the dessert with his fork. It was, Jack had to admit, a good point. It would have been a better point with cake, but you love the one you’re with.
Carter was already in the control room, seated in at the computer and conferring with General Hammond when they arrived. The General looked up as they arrived. “Oh, good. You brought Anise,” he said, evidently missing key Dean indicators like the pie and the way he was checking Carter out. Then again, Jack was pretty sure the General had never actually met the kid when he was the kid. And they did look alike, sort of like identical twins with radically different personalities. Maybe they should invest in one of those Tollan collar thingies so they could always know who was talking.
The sound of the gate firing up interrupted Jack’s musings. Walter sang out the chevrons while Carter did the boring exposition thing. “Since we’ve been unable to raise the Tok’ra on the radio we’re going to send a MALP through,” she explained, gesturing to where the MALP sat waiting at the base of the ramp. Dean jumped as the gate kawooshed open and Jack smirked. Seeing newbies’ reactions never got old. You’d think Anise would have warned him though.
“Here we go,” Carter murmured to herself as she steered the MALP up the ramp and through the event horizon. “We’re receiving telemetry,” Carter announced after a few seconds as a view of an unassuming wall of Tok’ra tunnel appeared on the monitor. Carter began a slow pan of the room. Slumped by the wall, about 45 degrees into the pan, was a dead Tok’ra. He wasn’t anyone Jack recognized, but the uniform was unmistakable.
There was a distinct plop like the sound of a slice of cherry pie hitting the floor, followed by the muffled clatter of a fallen fork and plate. Jack turned just in time to see Dean’s eyes flash as Anise took over. “We must go,” Anise declared.
There was sympathy in General Hammond’s eyes as he turned to face Anise. “We will be sending a team,” he agreed, “but I can not let you leave this planet.”
“They’re my people,” Anise protested, grief and desperation clear in his voice. Jack wondered who the dead man had been. A friend? Colleague? Lover?
“I understand that,” Hammond agreed gently, “but they’re not Mr. Winchester’s.”
A subtle something shifted in the set of his shoulders and Jack knew Dean was back in charge even before he opened his mouth. “Look,” he said, “ I’m not running off to join the Tok’ra circus, but I say we cowboy up and deal with this.” He gestured angrily toward the monitor and the image of the dead Tok’ra.
“Cowboy up?” The General repeated with genuine amusement. “Son,” he chuckled, “do you even know how to use a gun?”
Dean bristled like an affronted cat. “Since I was seven,” he snapped.
Teal’c did his raised eyebrow of surprise. “Is that not unusual among the Tau’ri?” He asked.
“Damn right it is,” Jack growled. He had the sudden urge to hunt down old man Winchester and give him a piece of his mind. What the hell had the man been thinking? What the hell kind of parent gave his seven-year-old a gun? It was a miracle nothing had happened, a miracle he still had a son.
Dean ignored them both, his eyes still locked on the General. “Sir, no one here knows those tunnels like Anise does. You need to find the Tok’ra. You need to figure out what’s going on. We can do that.” Hammond still looked skeptical. After all, how hard would it be for Anise to be pulling the strings here? Jolinar did a damn fine Carter impersonation and they actually knew her well enough that they should have been able to spot the difference. “Look,” said Dean, clearly getting annoyed, “the sooner we find these people the sooner I can get your damn space demon out of my head.”
General Hammond sighed. “Son,” he said, “I can’t just clear a civilian for gate travel.”
“Ah” -Daniel raised his hand- “I’m a civilian,” he pointed out. “You cleared me.” Heck, they’d cleared everyone from Daniel’s grandfather to Felger and Coombs. At least Dean wasn’t an elderly mental patient or a complete idiot.
The General sighed again. “Colonel,” he said, turning to Jack, “ you will be leading the mission.”
So it was Jack’s call then. Dean turned to appeal to him, determination in his eyes. If it had been Anise looking out of them Jack would have said no, but, as it was...“Let’s give him a gun,” Jack said with shrug. “We’ll see if he qualifies.”
*****
Three hours later, it was SG-1 plus guest at the bottom of the ramp, suited up and waiting for the next gate out.
2<<(3)>> 4