Title: Not in Kansas Anymore (8/23)
Fandom: Stargate/Star Wars
Rating: M
Genres: crossover, romance
Summary: When Laura Cadman and Evan Lorne woke up in a storage room, they never thought it would be in a galaxy far, far away. And now they need to find a way back home, past Special Operations agents and stormtroopers, between the fronts in a war they thought they knew (from television, mind you). But no one ever said it would be easy.
A/N: Err, okay, let's try this regular updates thing again. Starting... now. Yes. Also, what happened to
starwars_fanfic? Is there still a moderation queue? Will I ever be able to post anything there again? Questions over questions... Also, am still promoting
yappichick's
fanart!
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Not in Kansas Anymore 1/23 )
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Not in Kansas Anymore 2/23 )
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Not in Kansas Anymore 3/23 )
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Not in Kansas Anymore 4/23 )
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Not in Kansas Anymore 5/23 )
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Not in Kansas Anymore 6/23 )
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Not in Kansas Anymore 7/23 )
Eight
“I said talk, you stupid Imperial bitch.” And she said that she is no stupid Imperial bitch, goddammit. That, however, doesn’t keep the stupid little ass from hitting her. Again. All across her goddamn face and she’s pretty sure that the split lip that’s the result of the third or fourth slap is just one of many things marring her face right now.
But things marring her face were never something keeping her from rolling her eyes when someone was being an idiot. “Look, Specialist, I’m Lieutenant Laura Cadman, and I need to speak a goddamn officer. Speak, you know, not being interrogated. Got that?”
Apparently… not. Good God, that guy really has some unhealthy fascination with bitch slapping people and she’s about to mention that - and get herself even deeper in trouble, yes she’s aware of that - when Tarles thinks he needs to spit at her again. “You’re an enemy POW and as such it’s my fucking duty to interrogate you. Got that?”
Oh please, what is this? The fucking Middle Ages? Someone’s got a God complex or something? Probably got yelled at by his drill sergeant one time too many or something. However, that’s no reason to fucking hit her, and she doesn’t even care if Major Lorne’s advice right now would rather be keep your mouth shut than engage because he’s hitting her and his people are supposed to be the good guys in this and the good guys do not hit their POWs during interrogations. Actually, the good guys don’t even interrogate and… “Hey, I asked you something.”
“Yeah,” she says and can’t help not fully keeping her agitation and irritation out of her voice, “and I’m just gonna tell you the same stuff over and over and over again. And then you’re gonna hit me again and in the end one of us will either have passed out or found a new toy to satisfy their unhealthy torture habits. And I’m guessing that will not be me.”
Okay. That… was stupid, even by her standards. And from the look of it the Specialist that was right there after they hauled her off that shuttle and put her in a holding cell and seems to having had a go at her for the last couple of hours isn't exactly seeing reason, either. So yeah, it’s probably gonna be another round of… no, no it will be a round of… is that… a scalpel… in that guy’s… “Specialist Tarles, you stand down right fucking now or I swear to I’tar, I will make you.”
Oh, hey, Doggie Girl, she thinks. How nice of you to finally stop by. Got tired of watching your hatchet man here beating me to pulp? Huh. And look how the hatchet man suddenly becomes a very frightened little boy, about to wet his pants at the sight of that big wolf-like creature who looks about ready to tear off a limb or two. “Hey, Boss, I was just…”
“You were having an unauthorized interrogation of an enemy POW. While you were supposed to collecting our casualties’ personal belongings and getting them ready for being shipped to their next of kin.” Oh, well, that sounds a lot less entertaining than a little torture round with that red-haired Lieutenant he picked up, so she totally understands why Tarles had a go at her instead. Well, not.
“Yes, ma’am.” Well. She has to say… it is kind of impressive how Doggie Girl managed to shut up that stupid asshole… just by standing in the doorway.
“Out, Specialist. And I don’t want to see you until I say otherwise. Understood?” Most certainly she did. But it really is kind of hard to misunderstand any of that when fangs that imposing are bared at you. Idly she wonders just for a moment what Sheppard and Lorne would give to have an enforcer like that among their officer corps but then her musing is interrupted by Tarles scurrying out of the room, not without throwing her one last look that is even more scathing than a scalpel could ever have been.
So. That’s one interrogator down. Which leaves the one that probably came to relieve him and start with the authorized interrogation. Kind of having lost her faith in the Rebels being the good guys, she steels herself for another round of being knocked around but… it never comes. Instead… Doggie Girl… she… walks around the chair she’s been tight to and… releases her bindings. And all she can think of for a moment is thank God because oh God it’s so good to get the blood flowing again and feel her hands and feet coming to life again, even if it feels like them being stabbed with thousands of little needles.
She doesn’t really dare looking at Doggie Girl at first, simply starts rubbing her wrists and ankles furtively, as if she needs to keep all her movement from her interrogator… who’s probably seen them, anyway. Then… then the harsh light shining down on her is replaced by a light that’s filling the entire room and is at least marginally less grating.
After having freed her, Doggie Girl comes walking around again and she still half expects her to tower over her again and take up the torture where Tarles left off. But… Doggie Girl just blecks her impressive teeth and says, “So… let’s do this again, Lieutenant.”
Yeah, right. She really is starting to get fed up with all this crap. “Please tell me this is a bad cop good cop routine and you’re the good cop. I could do with a change,” she can’t help saying, her voice just a little too heavy with weariness for her taste.
Again with the teeth blecking and she’s starting to suspect that Doggie Girl really is grinning when she’s doing that. Huh. “That depends on how cooperative you are, Lieutenant.”
Goddammit. “Hey, listen Doggie Girl, I’m fucking sick of all of you treating me like I’m some piece of rag you can toss around at your goddamn will. You’re fucking supposed to be the fucking good guys here, okay? Stop behaving like the fucking bad guys or I swear I will give you some piece of my badassery. Really, I’ve had it with that stupid shit you’re pulling here and…”
“Are you planning on ending your rant anytime soon or should I just leave the room and come back in a couple of hours, Lieutenant?” Doggie Girl simply interrupts her, in a rather conversationalist tone and for a moment all she can do is stare at the Shistavanen, possibly red-faced, maybe from anger or from embarrassment but she honestly doesn’t care.
All she does care about is that she just finally had a chance to get this all off her chest and quite honestly, she’d love nothing better than having the chance to express her fucking discomfort with a guy at a decent sandbag to go along with it. And that stupid Alsatian is still looking a cross between bored and actually amused and what the goddamn hell is so goddamn funny about this?
So she’s about to give that alien another tongue-lashing when Doggie Girl beats her to it. “Hey, look, I understand that you’re pissed off. Hell, I’d be pissed off at us if anyone of us did to me what Tar did to you. Rest assured he’ll be sufficiently disciplined.” Yeah, he fucking better be, she wants to add but she still doesn’t get a say, “As for you… why don’t you accompany me to sick bay and then tell me who the hell you actually are?”
Sick bay? Oh… wait… yes… sick bay. Sick bay would be a nice idea actually, because she somehow feels as if she’s aching all over and the cuts and bruises in her face are starting to hurt like a bitch. Or at least enough to make her swallow the stream of expletives she’d been prepared to spit at the wolf-like alien the moment she’d get a chance to talk again and say instead, “I… actually I could do with a band-aid and an aspirin.” Or whatever their equivalent is for that.
“I’m afraid we won’t be able to offer you that… whatever that is. You’ll have to make do with a bacta shot or two instead,” Doggie Girl offers, obviously willing to keep up the weird sort of uneasy truce they seem to have struck the moment she offered to take her to sick bay.
She shrugs, making a bit of a show of being indifferent. “Fair enough.”
At that, Doggie Girl just kind of shrugs herself and starts walking towards the cell’s door and she starts following her. She’s prepared to take the rest of the walk to sick bay in silence… but just when they’re about to leave the room, she suddenly hears a low growl emanating from Doggie Girl’s throat and then the words, “By the way, I’d rather prefer you’d address me with either Boss or ma’am, not Doggie Girl…” and then Doggie Girl makes a weird guttural sound that sounds vaguely like letters strung together to some kind of word and she’s pretty sure that she was just provided with a new nickname.
Which is why she can’t help grinning a little despite the fact that it fucking hurts and muttering, “Of course, Boss, ma’am.”
“Watch it, Lieutenant,” is her only answer but somehow she’s got the feeling it wasn’t meant nearly as threatening as it sounded. Huh.
~*~
TBC in
Chapter Nine.