Black on White | Stargate SG-1/Doctor Who
Fandom: Stargate SG-1/Doctor Who
Characters: Baal (Stargate SG-1), River Song (Doctor Who)
Rating: PG-13
Written for: dailyfics
Prompt: 07 - Symbol
Word Count: 304
Summary:
The piece of paper in Baal’s hand bears a message, written in Goa’uld. Not the hieroglyphs most use, but the oldest version of the language that dates back centuries. Not even the few System Lords remaining use it; a fact that makes his frown deepen.
Because the woman captured on the closed circuit security system isn’t included in that number. In fact, he has no idea who she is.
The image is black-and-white, and a little grainy. It shows the door open, which shouldn’t have been possible considering the locks on it, and then a figure enters his office. Her curly hair is pulled into a ponytail and she wears a loose blouse and tight trousers. She sits in the chair he is in right now, and casually breaks into the filing drawer of his desk.
Baal glances from the screen to the broken lock. He knows what she found there, what she rolled up before slipping it into an inside pocket of her jacket. It’s possible he should be angry about the theft, but all he feels is curiosity combined with a hunger to discover exactly what technology she uses to vanish into thin air.
She’s stolen the schematics for the cloning station. It’s a set-back to his plan. He switches off the tape and looks back at the note in his hand. She’s scrawled the symbols, the black ink sharp against the whiteness of the paper.
“Behave yourself, Sweetie.”
He doesn’t doubt that she knows what he’s up to. Her warning unsettles him enough to give him pause. Who is she is? And what does she know that he doesn’t?
The answers aren’t forthcoming. In lieu of them, and determined to stop the infiltration of the Ori, he has little choice but to ignore the note and carry on with his plan.
Characters: Baal (Stargate SG-1), River Song (Doctor Who)
Rating: PG-13
Written for: dailyfics
Prompt: 07 - Symbol
Word Count: 304
Summary:
The piece of paper in Baal’s hand bears a message, written in Goa’uld. Not the hieroglyphs most use, but the oldest version of the language that dates back centuries. Not even the few System Lords remaining use it; a fact that makes his frown deepen.
Because the woman captured on the closed circuit security system isn’t included in that number. In fact, he has no idea who she is.
The image is black-and-white, and a little grainy. It shows the door open, which shouldn’t have been possible considering the locks on it, and then a figure enters his office. Her curly hair is pulled into a ponytail and she wears a loose blouse and tight trousers. She sits in the chair he is in right now, and casually breaks into the filing drawer of his desk.
Baal glances from the screen to the broken lock. He knows what she found there, what she rolled up before slipping it into an inside pocket of her jacket. It’s possible he should be angry about the theft, but all he feels is curiosity combined with a hunger to discover exactly what technology she uses to vanish into thin air.
She’s stolen the schematics for the cloning station. It’s a set-back to his plan. He switches off the tape and looks back at the note in his hand. She’s scrawled the symbols, the black ink sharp against the whiteness of the paper.
“Behave yourself, Sweetie.”
He doesn’t doubt that she knows what he’s up to. Her warning unsettles him enough to give him pause. Who is she is? And what does she know that he doesn’t?
The answers aren’t forthcoming. In lieu of them, and determined to stop the infiltration of the Ori, he has little choice but to ignore the note and carry on with his plan.