fic- "By The Pricking II: Finding Daniel" Stargate SG-1 Part 1
Title: By The Pricking II: Finding Daniel
Author: CJ aka WritinginCT
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Daniel/OFC
Rating: R -Mature
Warnings: Vampirism (implied)/Romance
Disclaimer: I don’t own the recognizable characters I’m just inspired by them. Hopefully they’ve had fun playing in my sandbox.
Comments: Daniel was returned to his corporeal body without his memories, as they return he can’t place the flashes of memories he has of an ethereal woman. Can finding her help him find himself? Sequel to By The Pricking of My Thumbs. Set after Fallen/Homecoming.
---------------
Daniel was tired. Coming back to the SGC and attempting to reintegrate himself into the unfamiliar place and its unfamiliar people was exhausting. He hid it from everyone, although he suspected that those that knew “him” best saw right through him.
His memories had started to return, sometimes slowly, sometimes in an overwhelming rush. Times and places jumbled all over themselves in his mind. There were days he wanted to scream in frustration, and there were days he just wanted to stay in bed with the covers pulled up over his head.
His dreams haunted him. They would tease him with faces and sensations that he had a hard time reconciling as to if they were real memories or fantasies. Slowly but surely, he started putting them into perspective. He remembered Sha’re and Teal’c worked with him to put many other faces and names together. His team had closed ranks around him, supporting him, encouraging him, but at times smothering him.
There was one face in particular that teased him in his slumber. With raven hair and cat-like eyes, he sensed somehow that this woman was different. None of his teammates knew who she was and he found himself getting very frustrated that he couldn’t remember her in more detail. When he thought about her he could remember books and wine, firelight and the sultry sound of her laughter. But he couldn’t put her in context with anything familiar.
He tried putting her out of his thoughts and was fairly successful until he had the most erotic dream of his life featuring his nameless mystery woman. The dream had been so real, so powerful that he felt it had to be a memory. But who was she?
Daniel had finally secured a new place to live and spent his evenings trying to unpack the belongings that Jack had safely stored for him. That had come as a surprise. Daniel hadn’t really expected to have anything personal remaining from before his ascension, and his love and gratitude for his friends grew with each box he unpacked.
He was slowing going through the boxes of books and trying to put them in some logical order. He had saved these boxes for last. He knew the books would relax him and he yearned for it.
Daniel opened a nice bottle of a Spanish red wine that he been drawn to buying at his favorite wine shop. He couldn’t remember ever drinking anything from the Castina vineyard before but somehow the wine was familiar.
Glass of wine in one hand, he wasn’t prepared for the sudden intrusion of memories into his mind when he reached into the last box and pulled out a battered copy of Macbeth. The memory of sitting with the mystery woman with this book and this wine exploded in his brain. He saw them both sitting at low lit table but he couldn’t place where they were, but they obviously were enjoying each other’s company.
He sat cross-legged on the floor and set his glass of wine down and let the memory wash over him. Looking at the book he realized that there was a lump in the middle of it. Daniel was one for leaving slips of paper with notes in books, but closing a book around something chunky was akin to sacrilege in his eyes. He opened the book to find that the lump was in fact a flattened waxed paper wrapped parcel. Along side it was a folded piece of paper.
His hand trembled as he opened the paper to read its contents. He somehow knew this would answer his questions about the mystery woman but he was almost afraid to know the truth. The note was written on hotel stationary and he vaguely remembered that it was in the college area. Instantly his mind conjured up the image of her graceful hand as he read the words so carefully scripted in a beautiful archaic penmanship, “Daniel, I don’t think you’re lost anymore. If you are ever lost again, burn a petal from this rose. I will find you. I am the Queen of Sorcery after all. Be well lover mine, Hecate”
He read and re-read the words, not understanding. Lover mine she had called him and he remembered the sight of her naked in the moonlight, remembered touching her, tasting her. But who was she? Where was she?
He fingered the waxed paper parcel and instinctively knew what was inside it. The rose.
He opened the parcel carefully and folded back the paper to reveal its contents. He couldn’t contain his gasp of surprise when the rose was revealed. It was perfect, a beautiful crimson bloom. But what made him gasp and stare at it in disbelief was the fact that it looked freshly picked, like he had clipped it off the bush moments ago. How was it possible?
He shivered as if an arctic blast had blown through the room. Who was this woman? What did this all mean? With an odd sense of fear of the unknown, a truly unusual emotion for Daniel, he quickly rewrapped the rose and closed the book around it. He placed the book back in the box to get it out of his sight. He swigged down the remaining wine in his glass and decided that he had had enough unpacking for one night and went to bed.
He had hoped for a sedate, calming sleep but that wasn’t to happen. He had no sooner slipped into the arms of Morpheus when his dreams brought him into the arms of another, his mystery lover, his Hecate.
---------------
Night after night the dream replayed in his mind. And even as the rest of his memories readily returned, the details of who she was eluded him. He researched Hecate and found many myths and legends attributed to her, none of which triggered any remembrance on his part. He contacted the hotel from the note’s stationary and did find out that he had stayed at the hotel for one night, about a year and a half before he ascended, but again nothing was triggered in his brain.
Daniel found it hard to believe that his relationship with this mystery woman was a one night stand. There had to be more to it than that. The draw was too powerful. Although he had to admit to himself that his erotic dreams seemed to be the same events over and over. None of it made any sense.
---------------
He was sitting on his couch with his third glass of Castina red since dinner, a book open on his lap that he really wasn’t interested in. Daniel sighed and took off his glasses and scrubbed his face with his hand. Putting his glasses back on, his gaze fell on the copy of Macbeth lying on top of the other books in the shelf across from the couch. Closing the book on his lap and shoving it to one side, he stood up still staring at Macbeth. He swirled his wine around the glass and took a large taste. Setting the glass down on the coffee table, he crossed the room to the bookshelf.
Daniel stood there for a long moment just looking at the book, trying to decide if he really had enough wine in his system to justify the insanity of the direction his thoughts were taking him. Burn a petal she had written. What harm could it do? And besides, no one was around to see his slide into the realm of the bizarre.
Taking the book back over to the coffee table, he set it down and lit the fat sandalwood candle in the table’s center. Putting his glasses back on he took a deep breath and opened the book to remove the rose. Carefully folding back the waxed paper, he just looked at the rose for a long time. Finally with a nervous chuckle, realizing he was being silly, he plucked a single blood-red petal from the flower.
He didn’t hesitate and held it carefully over the candle flame. Not expecting it to burn readily, given how fresh the rose appeared, he was surprised when the petal immediately almost seemed to melt and something looking deceptively like blood dripped and flashed into the flame. The acrid smell of burning flesh and decay assaulted him and he jumped back in surprise.
Sitting there with a bewildered look on his face Daniel waited. Waited for something to happen, waited for her to appear magically, and more importantly wanting her to appear magically.
---------------
He sat watching the flame for a long time, waiting. He reached for his wine glass and was about to blow out the candle when an echoing whisper filled his apartment, “Daniel, Daniel, Daniel.” He whipped around frantically expecting to see her behind him. But there was no one there. He flopped back in the couch and with a casual toss threw his glasses onto the coffee table. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose fiercely. Deciding that this probably rated as the most bizarre thing he had ever had any semblance of belief in, he blew out the candle and went to bed.
Lying in the dark enjoying the feel of the coolness of the sheets, Daniel tried to sleep. And just as he was about to drift off, an errant breeze blew through his bedroom ruffling his hair and chilling him a little further. He sat up quickly, knowing that that all of his windows were closed and there was nowhere for that breeze to come from. He felt it pass by him again and could swear that he felt it caress his cheek.
He squinted trying to bring his nearsighted vision into focus. He thought he saw a fuzzy spot of light at the foot of his bed. He blinked and looked again, and sure enough there was, and it was getting bigger. It finally grew into a form he recognized, the glow and the tentacles a dead giveaway. Then her face emerged and he forgot to breath. He mouthed her name because he just couldn’t make a sound, “Hecate.”
She didn’t say anything, simply quirked an eyebrow and nodded once. Daniel finally realized he needed air and took a deep breath. He whispered, “I can’t remember you. No matter how hard I try. But I want to, more than anything.”
She smiled gently and he heard her words in his head, “Come to me, lover mine. You are just a little lost.” A flash of a fireplace and books and wine filled his mind and without being able to explain it, he knew exactly where she wanted him to go. He felt his eyes growing heavy and though he tried to fight it, his vision blurred and he nodded off to her voice in his head whispering, “Sleep now…”
---------------
tbc....
Note: This is the second of a planned trilogy of stories. The first story is By The Pricking of My Thumbs.
Author: CJ aka WritinginCT
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Daniel/OFC
Rating: R -Mature
Warnings: Vampirism (implied)/Romance
Disclaimer: I don’t own the recognizable characters I’m just inspired by them. Hopefully they’ve had fun playing in my sandbox.
Comments: Daniel was returned to his corporeal body without his memories, as they return he can’t place the flashes of memories he has of an ethereal woman. Can finding her help him find himself? Sequel to By The Pricking of My Thumbs. Set after Fallen/Homecoming.
---------------
Daniel was tired. Coming back to the SGC and attempting to reintegrate himself into the unfamiliar place and its unfamiliar people was exhausting. He hid it from everyone, although he suspected that those that knew “him” best saw right through him.
His memories had started to return, sometimes slowly, sometimes in an overwhelming rush. Times and places jumbled all over themselves in his mind. There were days he wanted to scream in frustration, and there were days he just wanted to stay in bed with the covers pulled up over his head.
His dreams haunted him. They would tease him with faces and sensations that he had a hard time reconciling as to if they were real memories or fantasies. Slowly but surely, he started putting them into perspective. He remembered Sha’re and Teal’c worked with him to put many other faces and names together. His team had closed ranks around him, supporting him, encouraging him, but at times smothering him.
There was one face in particular that teased him in his slumber. With raven hair and cat-like eyes, he sensed somehow that this woman was different. None of his teammates knew who she was and he found himself getting very frustrated that he couldn’t remember her in more detail. When he thought about her he could remember books and wine, firelight and the sultry sound of her laughter. But he couldn’t put her in context with anything familiar.
He tried putting her out of his thoughts and was fairly successful until he had the most erotic dream of his life featuring his nameless mystery woman. The dream had been so real, so powerful that he felt it had to be a memory. But who was she?
Daniel had finally secured a new place to live and spent his evenings trying to unpack the belongings that Jack had safely stored for him. That had come as a surprise. Daniel hadn’t really expected to have anything personal remaining from before his ascension, and his love and gratitude for his friends grew with each box he unpacked.
He was slowing going through the boxes of books and trying to put them in some logical order. He had saved these boxes for last. He knew the books would relax him and he yearned for it.
Daniel opened a nice bottle of a Spanish red wine that he been drawn to buying at his favorite wine shop. He couldn’t remember ever drinking anything from the Castina vineyard before but somehow the wine was familiar.
Glass of wine in one hand, he wasn’t prepared for the sudden intrusion of memories into his mind when he reached into the last box and pulled out a battered copy of Macbeth. The memory of sitting with the mystery woman with this book and this wine exploded in his brain. He saw them both sitting at low lit table but he couldn’t place where they were, but they obviously were enjoying each other’s company.
He sat cross-legged on the floor and set his glass of wine down and let the memory wash over him. Looking at the book he realized that there was a lump in the middle of it. Daniel was one for leaving slips of paper with notes in books, but closing a book around something chunky was akin to sacrilege in his eyes. He opened the book to find that the lump was in fact a flattened waxed paper wrapped parcel. Along side it was a folded piece of paper.
His hand trembled as he opened the paper to read its contents. He somehow knew this would answer his questions about the mystery woman but he was almost afraid to know the truth. The note was written on hotel stationary and he vaguely remembered that it was in the college area. Instantly his mind conjured up the image of her graceful hand as he read the words so carefully scripted in a beautiful archaic penmanship, “Daniel, I don’t think you’re lost anymore. If you are ever lost again, burn a petal from this rose. I will find you. I am the Queen of Sorcery after all. Be well lover mine, Hecate”
He read and re-read the words, not understanding. Lover mine she had called him and he remembered the sight of her naked in the moonlight, remembered touching her, tasting her. But who was she? Where was she?
He fingered the waxed paper parcel and instinctively knew what was inside it. The rose.
He opened the parcel carefully and folded back the paper to reveal its contents. He couldn’t contain his gasp of surprise when the rose was revealed. It was perfect, a beautiful crimson bloom. But what made him gasp and stare at it in disbelief was the fact that it looked freshly picked, like he had clipped it off the bush moments ago. How was it possible?
He shivered as if an arctic blast had blown through the room. Who was this woman? What did this all mean? With an odd sense of fear of the unknown, a truly unusual emotion for Daniel, he quickly rewrapped the rose and closed the book around it. He placed the book back in the box to get it out of his sight. He swigged down the remaining wine in his glass and decided that he had had enough unpacking for one night and went to bed.
He had hoped for a sedate, calming sleep but that wasn’t to happen. He had no sooner slipped into the arms of Morpheus when his dreams brought him into the arms of another, his mystery lover, his Hecate.
---------------
Night after night the dream replayed in his mind. And even as the rest of his memories readily returned, the details of who she was eluded him. He researched Hecate and found many myths and legends attributed to her, none of which triggered any remembrance on his part. He contacted the hotel from the note’s stationary and did find out that he had stayed at the hotel for one night, about a year and a half before he ascended, but again nothing was triggered in his brain.
Daniel found it hard to believe that his relationship with this mystery woman was a one night stand. There had to be more to it than that. The draw was too powerful. Although he had to admit to himself that his erotic dreams seemed to be the same events over and over. None of it made any sense.
---------------
He was sitting on his couch with his third glass of Castina red since dinner, a book open on his lap that he really wasn’t interested in. Daniel sighed and took off his glasses and scrubbed his face with his hand. Putting his glasses back on, his gaze fell on the copy of Macbeth lying on top of the other books in the shelf across from the couch. Closing the book on his lap and shoving it to one side, he stood up still staring at Macbeth. He swirled his wine around the glass and took a large taste. Setting the glass down on the coffee table, he crossed the room to the bookshelf.
Daniel stood there for a long moment just looking at the book, trying to decide if he really had enough wine in his system to justify the insanity of the direction his thoughts were taking him. Burn a petal she had written. What harm could it do? And besides, no one was around to see his slide into the realm of the bizarre.
Taking the book back over to the coffee table, he set it down and lit the fat sandalwood candle in the table’s center. Putting his glasses back on he took a deep breath and opened the book to remove the rose. Carefully folding back the waxed paper, he just looked at the rose for a long time. Finally with a nervous chuckle, realizing he was being silly, he plucked a single blood-red petal from the flower.
He didn’t hesitate and held it carefully over the candle flame. Not expecting it to burn readily, given how fresh the rose appeared, he was surprised when the petal immediately almost seemed to melt and something looking deceptively like blood dripped and flashed into the flame. The acrid smell of burning flesh and decay assaulted him and he jumped back in surprise.
Sitting there with a bewildered look on his face Daniel waited. Waited for something to happen, waited for her to appear magically, and more importantly wanting her to appear magically.
---------------
He sat watching the flame for a long time, waiting. He reached for his wine glass and was about to blow out the candle when an echoing whisper filled his apartment, “Daniel, Daniel, Daniel.” He whipped around frantically expecting to see her behind him. But there was no one there. He flopped back in the couch and with a casual toss threw his glasses onto the coffee table. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose fiercely. Deciding that this probably rated as the most bizarre thing he had ever had any semblance of belief in, he blew out the candle and went to bed.
Lying in the dark enjoying the feel of the coolness of the sheets, Daniel tried to sleep. And just as he was about to drift off, an errant breeze blew through his bedroom ruffling his hair and chilling him a little further. He sat up quickly, knowing that that all of his windows were closed and there was nowhere for that breeze to come from. He felt it pass by him again and could swear that he felt it caress his cheek.
He squinted trying to bring his nearsighted vision into focus. He thought he saw a fuzzy spot of light at the foot of his bed. He blinked and looked again, and sure enough there was, and it was getting bigger. It finally grew into a form he recognized, the glow and the tentacles a dead giveaway. Then her face emerged and he forgot to breath. He mouthed her name because he just couldn’t make a sound, “Hecate.”
She didn’t say anything, simply quirked an eyebrow and nodded once. Daniel finally realized he needed air and took a deep breath. He whispered, “I can’t remember you. No matter how hard I try. But I want to, more than anything.”
She smiled gently and he heard her words in his head, “Come to me, lover mine. You are just a little lost.” A flash of a fireplace and books and wine filled his mind and without being able to explain it, he knew exactly where she wanted him to go. He felt his eyes growing heavy and though he tried to fight it, his vision blurred and he nodded off to her voice in his head whispering, “Sleep now…”
---------------
tbc....
Note: This is the second of a planned trilogy of stories. The first story is By The Pricking of My Thumbs.