"SG-1...You have a go."
General Hammond's voice echoed around the gateroom as the SGC's primary team made their way up the ramp to where the Stargate stood, glimmering in the harsh light of the embarkation room.
"Remember, your primary mission is to make peaceful contact with these people. Be as diplomatic as possible."
Colonel Jack O'Neill smirked to himself as three pairs of eyes turned to him. He raised his eyebrows in an expression of mock innocence to the control room before stepping through the event horizon of the Stargate's generated wormhole, followed closely by the rest of his team.
General Hammond moved away from the control room window shaking his head in amusement. Diplomatic. He'd have a medical team standing by for their return just in case. Suddenly a loud wail from the complex's alert sirens jolted him out of his reverie.
"Sergeant?!" he called in alarm.
"Sir...I don't know, Sir. The Gate's power...it's overloading....I don't understand....the repair team had fixed everything....the probe went through fine.."
As the young, bespectacled airman at the controls continued to ramble and the whine emitting from the gate reached ear-splitting level, there was a loud explosion and a simultaneous ripping sound as the wormhole disengaged.
The control room fell silent.
"SG-1?" Hammond ventured.
"No way to tell sir. The system's blown again. I think they might have got through...." The sergeant's voice trailed off.
*My God, let them be all right.* Hammond prayed.
~*~*~*~
Bright, golden light shone down on SG-1 as they stepped from the shadow of the monolithic ring.
O'Neill looked around dubiously. Unless he was very much mistaken, this was not P8C 329. That planet had been full of lush undergrowth: Tall trees, high grasses and exotic flowers that would have had Earth's botanists jumping up and down with excitement.
*Trees and moss* he thought to himself.
Instead they had found themselves standing on a dusty road, surrounded by fields, leading to a high stone gateway where he could just make out a sort-of-sentry standing to a very lopsided version of attention. The smell coming from the city was overpowering, and the ramshackle roofs of buildings he could see looked as though they were out of a medieval fairy story.
"Kids..?" he called to his team.
They crowded 'round him.
"It would appear we are not on our assigned planet, O'Neill." Teal'c, the huge, dark-skinned Jaffa stated with typical calm.
"Ya think?" came the reply.
Sam Carter tilted her blonde head towards the sky, shielding her eyes with one hand.
"It's possible the gate malfunctioned and sent us to the wrong planet." she frowned. "It's been suffering from power overloads recently because of it's continuous use, but the base's techs said it was fixed."
"Well, it's not like this sort of thing happens often." replied Jack with more than a hint of irritated sarcasm.
"Uh, Jack?"
Daniel Jackson, who had been fiddling in his backpack for a pair of binoculars, finally drew the group's attention. He had the lens pointed at the wooden gate and was reading the sign affixed to it.
"What's it say" Jack asked.
"The sign seems relatively new. It says ... ANKH-MORPORK. Barbarian Invaders welcome."
"'Scuse me?"
"That's what it says. There's also a crest. Two hippos, a shield, an owl, and two mottos. They seem to be written is Latin or a derivation therof. The first is: Merus In Pectum Et In Aquam. Lit:'Pure in mind and water.' The second is: Quanti Canicula Ille...In ...Fenestra...." Daniel's voice trailed away in disbelief.
"Which means what exactly?" Carter asked interestedly, turning to face the linguist.
"Umm....well....literally it kinda means...."
"Daniel?" Jack enquired, his tone clearly telling the younger man to hurry up.
"How much is that small dog in the window." Daniel announced.
His team mates stared at him. Carter raised her eyebrows while Jack shook his head in disbelief.
"Danny...I know there are a lot of languages floating around inside that adorable little head of yours, but could we just try that translation again?" he said
"That's what it *says*!" Daniel wailed.
Teal'c, who had retrieved his own binoculars interrupted.
"DanielJackson, the owl appears to be holding an ankh, in concurrence with the name of this town."
Daniel raised his binoculars again.
"Yes...Yes!" he cried. "The ankh is a powerful Egyptian symbol, representing life. Gods were often depicted carrying an ankh in Egyptian artwork!"
"So this is what? Another Goa'uld town? Sweet." Jack replied, bitingly.
"No....I don't think so. It doesn't look Egyptian influenced. Only one way to find out." Daniel stated, oblivious to the sarcasm in Jack's voice as he picked up his gear and headed in the direction of the city.
"Whoooa! Danny!" Jack called after him. Jackson turned around to look at him.
"What?"
Picking up on her commanding officer's wavelength, Carter called, "This is the wrong planet Daniel. We have to dial home. If something went wrong with the Gate the others will want to know what happened to us."
"Plus, we have some fun diplomacy to be getting back to remember?" Jack added.
"You want to go back for the diplomatic meeting?" Daniel asked incredulously.
"Oh sure. I'm sure it'll be a gas. Anyway they might throw us a party in the name of intergalactic relations." he joked.
"But.."
"Ah." Jack held up his hand. "We're going. End of discussion."
Carter headed towards the DHD. She punched in the 6 symbols for Earth and took a few seconds to locate the Point of Origin symbol before finally dialling the full address. The Gate started to spin, the inner track of 39 symbols whirring round with the grate of metal against metal. SG-1 stood back so they would not be caught in the outward spiral of the vortex when it opened. Six chevrons clanged into place. The team looked up at the Gate expectantly. The ring stopped spinning. The seventh chevron lifted, locked down and completely failed to cause anything other than the soft whisper of the Stargate's power draining away.
"Ooookay." Jack said slowly. "And *what* just happened?"
"Our gate must be completely blown. The system must be shut down on the other side." Carter cried in dismay.
"So we're locked out." O'Neill said flatly.
"Effectively, Sir, yes." she answered.
"Wonderful. Now what?" The question was directed more at himself than any of SG-1, but Teal'c took it upon himself to answer anyway.
"Might I suggest, O'Neill, that we head for the city of Ankh-Morpork."
Jack nodded and picked up his pack.
"OK campers. Hi, ho."
~*~*~*~
Sergeant Fred Colon of the Ankh-Morpork City watch was currently on guard duty at the gates to the city. He was slouched against the wooden gate-frame, his rather rotund body making it creak alarmingly. He was fiddling in his pockets for a match to light the smoke he had stuck behind his ear when a voice interrupted him.
"Uh, excuse me. I wonder if you can help us?"
Fred turned around to face the body belonging to the voice and found himself staring at the black clad chest of a man who, as his gaze travelled upwards, appeared to be greater than 6 feet tall and frowning. Daniel stepped from behind Teal'c to reassure the surprised Watchman.
"Oh...um...don't be scared. I'm Daniel. This is Teal'c."
The big Jaffa nodded his head in greeting. Fred looked the strangers up and down, before turning his attention to the gear they carried.
"You 'ere to invade?" he asked solemnly. "Cause there's prop'r procedure you've got to go through. Got a permit?"
Daniel looked at him in bemusement. Jack took this opportunity to speak up.
"Ah, excuse me?"
Fred turned his attention to him.
"Hi." Jack smiled. "I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill, US Airforce. We're not here to invade anything."
"US airforce, eh?" Fred drew the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it, taking a long drag. "Where's that then?"
"We just came through the Stargate." he said.
"Uh...the Chaapa'ai." Daniel added helpfully
Fred regarded them thoughtfully.
"Never heard of it." he replied. "'Ere, Nobby!" he shouted over his shoulder "You ever heard of a place called...Chappy?"
" 'sin Klatch, innit?" came the answer. A small, unidentifiable chimpanzee-like creature sidled into view from behind the Watch-post hut. SG-1 looked at him in astonishment.
"This 'ere's Corporal Cecil Wormsborough St. John Nobbs, Ankh-Morpork City Watch." Colon announced pompously.
"Nobby," the odd little man offered, holding out his hand to Teal'c who towered a good four feet above him.
"He's human?" Jack asked incredulously.
Daniel elbowed him in the ribs, but Nobby was quite unoffended.
"Oh yes. Absolutely. Well..it's never been proven otherwise."
"Uh...yes..well.." Daniel faltered. "The Chappy...Chaapa'ai isn't a place it's a thing." he made some wild hand gestures to indicate the size and shape of the Stargate. "It kind of transported us here from...."
"Aaaah." Fred nodded wisely. "Matter Transportation from one place to another by mystical forces. Magik"
"Yeah. Sorta." Daniel gave up.
"You'll be looking for your own kind then." Nobby chipped in.
"Our own kind?" Jack asked, puzzled.
"Wizards." Nobby stated sagely.
"Wizards." Jack said in slow disbelief.
"Aye," Fred replied, irked at being interrupted. "The Unseen University. It's just over the way. You can see the bell tower. Should be striking midday any minute now."
"Thanks." Daniel said. "We'll go there then."
Jack grabbed his arm.
"Are you serious. Wizards? Does this look like Oz to you?"
"Think about it." Daniel hissed. "Wizards? Scientists? Science is strange to these people, so they class it as 'Magik'. Remember the Dark Ages?"
"Like it was yesterday." Jack smirked. Raising his voice he called "Ok then campers, to the Emerald Palace. Come on Dorothy."
Carter, who had stayed out of the discussion to take some readings with one of her 'specialised doohickies' as the Colonel called them, looked up from her readouts frowning as she followed the rest of her team. The results that were showing up on the screen were outrageous. They showed high levels of something she couldn't identify. This was possibly a bad thing, but she couldn't tell. Unbeknownst to her, her scanners were detecting large pockets of Thaumaturigal Radiation. Magic was quite literally in the air.
~*~*~*~
Sam stared around her in amazement. The had reached Sator Square right in the middle of weekly market. The main building of Unseen University, the wizard's training college, stood between the Square and the River Ankh where, SG-1 had soon realised, the dreadful smell that permeated the city radiated from. It was currently, according to local clocks on the roofs of various Guilds, somewhere between 11.57 and 11.59. They had reset their watches in accordance to the clock on top of the University tower. The market square was crowded with all kinds of weird and wonderful stalls, and people to match. Dwarfs, trolls, barbarians, wizards, merchants. It looked like they were in they middle of some bizarre fancy-dress party. And to cap it all off, there was one peculiar little man with a tray around his neck who kept trying to sell them
"...sausage inna bun. Only two copper pieces. And that's cuttin' me own throat, that is."
She kept instinctively close to O'Neill as they tried to navigate their way to the front entrance of Unseen University.
"Sir, this is incredible. It's like the Brothers Grimm come to life." she stated in an awed whisper.
Jack didn't answer, merely nodded. He wouldn't admit it to her, but this had him thrown a little off as well. Suddenly, the chime of bells began to ring over the town from the Guild roofs. Most started at different times and the din was deafening.
"Midday." Daniel shouted unnecessarily.
~*~*~*~
In the bell tower of the Unseen University, the ancient bell Old Tom began to swing. It had no clapper, but continued to toll out the hours every day. It started its upward arc...
~*~*~*~
"Would someone shut those damned bells up for a se-" Jack's words were cut off as Old Tom hit the top of its arc and tolled out one, long, heavy peal of utter silence, drowning out all noise for miles around; then swung back down and up to the opposite side of the tower.
SG-1 stood with their mouths agape, watching the glitter of the bell far above. Twelve times it rolled out blooms of silence, until finally it stilled and the ruckus of Sator Square returned to a normal steady stream of noise.
"*What* the hell?" Jack asked, shocked.
"That's not possible...." Daniel stated.
"Perhaps we should continue." Teal'c suggested, heading towards the University. The crowd parted before him like the Red Sea in front of some giant, serene Moses. Daniel followed and, taking a few brief moments to grab the still astounded Carter's arm, so did Jack.
~*~*~*~
"Look. We're *not* from the Sto Plains, or Lancre, or Howondoland, or anywhere in Klatch. We are *not* wizards and we are most certainly not demons from the 'Dungeon Dimensions'! And we're *not hungry!* Thank you!" Jack finished angrily, drawing in a few deep breaths. They had been trying to communicate the mechanisms of the Stargate to this idiotic faculty for the past two hours. Even Carter had had no luck, and the look she got when she had entered the discussion was something between respect and righteous indignation from the senior wizards. It had taken Jack the best part of fifteen minutes to convince them she was not his wife, head-of-harem or maid of any description, anyway.
Mustrum Ridcully, Archchancellor of Unseen University regarded them suspiciously from under the brim of his hat which, incidentally, was quite a feat of engineering. It had fishing flies stuck to it, small drawers, a crossbow and a hidden bottle of Bentick's Very Peculiar Old Brandy in the pointy bit at the top, which unscrewed to become a cup.
"You're not politicians are you? Because then you'd be looking for the Patrician. Or alchemists?. Or Merchants? Or *ma-gi-cians?*" The last word was pronounced with such utter distaste it gave the impression that Ridcully felt the need to rinse his mouth out with soap for merely uttering the first syllable. He regarded Sam shrewdly. "You wouldn't be a member of the Seamstress' guild at all?"
Carter was about to retort that she hadn't sewn anything since she was twelve when Jack interrupted.
"No! I've explained this already. We're just looking for somewhere to stay until they fix our gate and we can go home."
"And you wish to stay *here?* Does this look like a *tavern* to you, young man? Might I suggest you try the 'Mended Drum' down the road for more suitable lodgings." Ridcully haughtily rose to leave. SG-1 also stood up, picking up their packs, when Carter's torch dropped from her pack. The Dean bent slowly down to look at it.
"What's this?" he enquired, adjusting his spectacles.
"A flashlight." she answered wearily, switching the device on to show him. The wizards gasped, impressed.
"A light without need for fire!" cried the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
"A magic lamp!" contributed the Senior Wrangler.
"A 'Flashed Light'." corrected the Chair of Indefinite Studies
"So!" Ridcully proclaimed. "You are wizards! Excellent"
Carter opened her mouth to explain that it wasn't magic but simple technology when Jack laid a silencing hand on her arm.
"You may rest here for a few days. Mrs Whitlow will show you to your rooms. Dinner is served after breakfast, brunch, lunch and tea but before supper and midnight snacks."
With that, Ridcully swept away with the rest of the faculty in tow (including the Dean who was still playing with Sam's flashlight), leaving them with the small, round, class-conscious but cheerful Mrs. Whitlow, housekeeper of the University and General of its servant army.
They were led through a maze of corridors, hallways and flights of stairs, twisting and turning until they grew dizzy just trying to map out where they were going. Finally they stopped in front of four adjoining rooms. Mrs Whitlow directed them each into one of the large chambers, settled them in and left. Sam, Daniel and Teal'c soon migrated into Jack's room for a quick conference.
"Well, at least we have somewhere to stay the night. And we can go back tomorrow and check on the Stargate." Daniel said optimistically, scanning the room.
"Not too shabby, eh?" Jack commented, seeing the other man's appraisal of his chamber. There was a desk and chair, an armchair, an 'en suite' as such and various other odds and ends of furniture and decoration. Some of it Jack felt he wouldn't want to touch with a barge pole, ten foot plus. However, the bed was a large four poster with enormous pillows and thick sheets.
"What do *you* think?" he asked Sam, lowering his voice and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. She shot him an mock-irritated, not-a-chance look and dropped into the armchair. He grinned.
"If this is a university, there's bound to be a library. Some historical records of this world." Daniel thought aloud.
"And?" Jack asked
"Well, for a start we could learn more about their culture. Especially the apparent existence of actual magic! And we need to find out what links this place has to Ancient Egypt..."
"Daniel, this place has more links to Never Never Land than Ancient Egypt!" Jack interrupted with annoyance.
"Then how did the Stargate get here? And why don't they use it?" Daniel questioned irritably "I have to find some sort of records. I'm going to look for the library." With that, he stepped out, slamming the door shut behind him. Sam looked up at Jack from her slouched position in the armchair and raised an eyebrow. Jack glanced at her and sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face.
"We'd better go after him. It's a big University out there."
~*~*~*~
Daniel made his way down another flight of stairs, following the rather vague directions he had procured from one of the rather confused student wizards. Behind him, the rest of SG-1 trudged on, arguing about directions.
"I'm sure he said 'left at the dining room'..."
"Which dining room. We've passed about twenty..."
"DanielJackson appears to know where he his going."
"Yeah. 'Appears' being the relevant term..."
"How many staircases can one place have? "
"I am sure we have passed that portrait before..."
Daniel tried to shut their voices out. They were reaching the lower levels of the University. He could almost feel the weight of the building above him. The library had be down here somewhere...
He turned right abruptly and continued on through a gently upward sloping corridor. Pushing open a heavy oak door, Daniel stopped and gaped in wonderment. The rest of SG-1 ran straight into him as he came to a dead halt, but he never even noticed. They had reached the Library.
~*~*~*~
The room was enormous. So much so that Daniel couldn't see the far wall at all. A huge glass dome soared above them letting in the heavy light of the world's sun. The dimensions of the library seemed to twist and turn in an almost psychedelic way: the floor was the wall was the ceiling was the floor. The shelves were scattered all around. Over 10,000 books surrounded the team. Some were over six feet high and a foot thick, some were the size of postage stamps and covered in soft silk. Some were chained to pedestals and trying to strain against steel links, some flew freely around the room. Traces of blue fire crackled along the shelves and the bookcases seemed to whisper faintly. From the upper level of the library Daniel could see over the balcony to the maximum security shelves below where the most powerful, dangerous books were kept. And, in a locked, barred, chained room, down a tunnel behind a heavy door...the Octavo. The Creator's grimore. The most powerful book on the Discworld, perhaps in the whole universe. No one was allowed to remain in the room with it for any more than 4 minutes 32 seconds due to its immense magical might.
All this was, of course, lost on Daniel and the rest of SG-1 as they gaped at the room in utter amazement.
"Can I help you?"
The voice was tired, bored and sounded as if its owner wanted to help them about as much as he would swim naked in the Arctic Ocean. A scruffy wizard in a long, filthy, tattered robes and a bent hat sloped out from behind the library desk. His hat was a dark, stained red and had the word Wizzard sewn on in sequins, most of which had fallen off. He had a beard, like most of the other wizards SG-1 had met, but it was matted and in need of a wash, much like the wizard himself. The man was followed, Jack noted with some interest, by a large wooden chest on legs. Lots of little legs. Sweet.
"I'm Rincewind. You'll have to excuse my not knowing or caring who you are. I'm a bit out of touch. I've just got back from EcksEcksEcksEcks."
Teal'c raised his eyebrows, while the others looked puzzled.
"EcksEcksEcksEcks." Daniel muttered.
"I take it you're the librarian then..." Jack began
"Oh no." Rincewind answered. "Librarian's ASSISTANT. That's the Librarian over there."
"Ook"
SG-1 looked over to where Rincewind was pointing.
"Uh...Sir?" Carter ventured.
"I see it, Major." O'Neill answered mildly.
'It' was a giant male orang-utan hanging from one of the book shelves regarding SG-1 disinterestedly. He had seen a lot of strange things in his time. Went with the magical library territory.
"Librarian? Uh...that's a mon..."
Quick as a flash, Rincewind was behind Daniel and had clapped a had over his mouth.
"Don't say it." he hissed. "Don't say that word. Ape. Orang-utan. Primate. But *never* the M word. Understand?"
Daniel nodded. Rincewind removed his palm from over his mouth.
"You're new." he stated.
"You have no idea." Jack replied.
"You would have know about him otherwise." Here, Rincewind jerked his thumb in the direction of the Librarian. "Who are you then?"
"I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill. United States Air Force."
"United States? Is that in Klatch?" Rincewind queried.
Jack sighed wearily.
"I've never heard of it," Rincewind continued. "And I've been all over Disc."
"Disc?" Daniel asked, beating Sam to the question by a split second. Rincewind turned his attention to him.
"Oh. Dr. Daniel Jackson. Pleased to meet you."
"Doctor?"
"Um. Yes. Not medical though. I'm an anthropologist. And an archaeologist."
Receiving a blank look, Daniel tried again.
"I study ancient civilisations? The way they lived? Their culture? Their languages?"
At last, the wizard's face lit up.
"Oh yes. Languages. I'm good at those. I speak Morporkian, Klatchian, Chimerian, High Borogravarian, Vanglemesht, Sumtri and Trob, to name a few." Rincewind announced proudly.
"Oh. Wow." Daniel conceded.
"And," Rincewind drawled smugly, "I can say "'Please don't kill me' in every known language on the Disc."
Before Daniel could formulate an answer to that, Sam stepped forward.
"You mentioned the...Disc? What is that?"
Rincewind goggled at her. He opened and closed his mouth.
"What's the Disc? What is the *Disc*?" He seemed about ready to fly off in indignant astonishment when he suddenly paused and something seemed to dawn on him.
"You're a...a...a...*woman*!" he cried in disbelief. The look that crossed Carter's face was priceless. Still, Jack stepped a little closer to her. The look on this guy's face said he didn't get out much, despite what he said.
"Your point?" Carter asked coldly.
"In the University?" Rincewind stuttered. "Not a maid? In the *Library?*!"
"Is that some sort of problem?"
"Not at all." The wizard said, composing himself extraordinarily quickly. "Merely rare. Anyway, in answer to your question, madam, *this* is the Disc." He made a grand, sweeping gesture. "All that is around you. All you see, hear, touch, taste and smell." he paused. "Especially smell." he added as an afterthought."Especially the Ankh." After a moment he resumed his speech. "*This* is the Disc. Carried on the back of Great A'Tuin the star turtle whom I have seen with mine own eyes, on the shoulders of the four great elephants Great T'Phon, Tubul, Jerakeen and Berilia, travelling through the cosmos like a giant forgotten pizza; to where, no one knows. For what purpose, no one knows. But what we do know is this..." he cried, then paused for a moment to consider exactly what it was they knew. "This is The Discworld." he finished rather lamely.
"Rubbish." Carter replied.
This threw Rincewind slightly.
"Eh?"
"Star turtles? Giant elephants? Disc-shaped planets? Impossible." she stated flatly
Rincewind stared at her. He was lost for words. These were the undeniable truths of existence. A touch shady perhaps, but one had to be patriotic when it came to such things. Or at least make sure you weren't caught being unpatriotic by someone who rampantly was. And here she was, this tall, blonde woman who wouldn't look out of place among the followers of Herrena the Henna-Haired Harridan, or the Goddesses of Ephebe, denying the undeniable. And Rincewind didn't have a clue how to answer her. He was lucky. He didn't have to.
"I can assure you madam that the facts are indisputable." Ponder Stibbons, the most logical mind in all of the University and a relatively young,'New Age' wizard, rose from behind a large stack of books.
"Ook" came the agreement of the librarian.
Ponder took off his pointed had and swept into a rather dramatic bow.
"Ponder Stibbons. Recent graduate of this...fine academy and the youngest member of its noble faculty.'Professor' of what has become popularly known as Techromancy." he introduced himself, dripping with greasy charm.
"Dr. Samantha Carter. Theoretical Astrophysicist."
"You what?" Ponder asked, confused, his lounge lizard act forgotten.
"I gained a doctorate learning that things like this cannot possibly exist." Sam announced. "It should not exist. Flatness is not a natural planetary state. There are the ecological ramifications for a start. Rain is created from atmospheric moisture gained from, in *very* simple terms, recycled water from the ground. If the world was flat, the water would "run off the edges" as it were. The ecosystem would collapse. And turtles should only grow so big. They're amphibians. How could an amphibious creature survive in the vacuum of space? And actually support *four elephants*? And furthermore, the consequences of such a plane of existance on the space-time continuum and the forces of reality, where magic should not exist would be..."
"Major." Jack interrupted.
Sam turned to look at him. Jack gestured to Ponder with a grin. He was standing with his eyes slightly glazed over.
"Is she finished?" Rincewind asked.
"I assure you, Miss. We have seen the Great Turtle. HEX has run hundreds of tests. The world is most definitely flat" Ponder said quietly.
"I've been over the edge myself. Seen the turtle and everything." Rincewind chirped, more enthusiastic now he had an ally.
"But, how? Why?" Sam asked desperately. "How could something as absurd as that exist? How could it come into existence?"
"Ah. This I can answer." Ponder proclaimed. "Religiously it is believed to be the cosmic cycle. The turtles were born in the cosmos and are travelling to the point of mating, where they will join, once, in union, thus creating the eggs which will hatch the new star turtles and new worlds."
"*That's* your universal creation theory?" Daniel asked in disbelief.
"Yes." Ponder replied. "It is know as the 'Big Bang' theory."
Daniel's jaw dropped and Jack was forced to stifle a laugh by a pointed glare from Major Carter.
"We have, as of yet, been unable to discover the actual, scientific nature of the universe, but I'm working on that at the moment." he added
Their attention was diverted from the young wizard however, by Teal'c.
"O'Neill, I would appreciate your assistance."
All five of them turned in time to see the Jaffa whack Rincewind's wooden chest over the lid with his staff weapon. After a few minutes brief struggle Teal'c somehow managed to get his staff weapon well and truly jammed in the mouth of the Luggage. The chest was attempting to eat the weapon whole.
"This object has been following me for some time. It refuses to leave me alone."
"Oh, yes. It'll do that you see. It thinks I'm it's owner. It's made from sapient pearwood, the most powerful magic substance on the Disc, I think." Rincewind informed them cheerfully. "It can carry anything and protects its master...me...against all foes. It'll follow you to the ends of the Disc. I know. Its done it before. And right over the edge as well. It can find you *anywhere*."
"Sounds like a German-Shepherd my brother used to have." Sam muttered, still put out over the Star Turtle.
"It's only trying to eat you. You can have it if you want it. I don't." Rincewind continued. "It's a bloody nuisance, to be perfectly honest."
Teal'c continued to fight with the Luggage. In the far corner of the library, a large,curious, leather-bound book on 'Morphosis for Beginners' left its place on the shelf and soared towards the crowd. It dived low over the luggage, startling the box and making it close it's lid shut on the staff. The next few seconds were a blur of activity as Rincewind lunged for the chest, Teal'c tried to pry the lid open and Jack rushed towards his team-mate. There was an ominous SNAP.
"Oh dear" said Rincewind.
~*~*~*~
The Luggage looked around it. It had no eyes, but it gave a damned good impression of looking. It turned itself up to Rincewind. Jack, Sam and Daniel stood mute beside the chest, in the space where the large Jaffa had been only moments before.
"Wha..?" Daniel ventured.
"Cough him up. Go on. Now." Rincewind demanded to the box. It's lid stayed defiantly closed.
"Please?" Rincewind coaxed. The Luggage retracted its feet and settled with a loud BURP. Rincewind sighed.
"He shouldn't of tried to open the lid." he said.
"Where..where *is* he?" a startled Sam asked.
"He's in the Luggage."
"*In* the Luggage. As in: inside the box?" Jack looked at the wizard suspiciously.
"He shouldn't of gone for the lid." Rincewind explained. "It doesn't like that. At all."
Jack glanced around at his three remaining team-mates. They were as shocked as he was. Carter was looking at the box as though it were a stick of dynamite ready to go off.
*She's not far wrong.* Jack thought.
He regarded the box for a few more seconds, then shook his head angrily.
"Just our luck."
~*~*~*~
Picture...
At the centre of the Disc is the Hub. In the centre of the Hub rises a tall column of grey rock and green ice, ten miles high. This is Cori Celesti. At the peak of this magnificent mountain is DUNMANIFESTIN, home of the Gods. A huge marble temple with fluted columns and pointed roofs and enormous floors. Past the centre chamber where the Chief God Blind Io meditates, past the room in which Fate and Destiny sit playing the cosmic game of chess, past the hall where Offler the Crocodile and Zephyrus sit playing the cosmic game of Twister: see the Lady. The Goddess who Must Not be Named. Her green, pupiless eyes cast over a model of the Discworld, the rattle of dice sounds in her cup, but somewhere a sound catches her attention. Her name, from a place of great magic by one she has never heard before. She reaches into the bag at her side and draws out a small, featureless figure like an uncarved doll. She turns it in her palm and suddenly it is a man. A soldier. A warrior. A new playing piece. She smiles eerily. She looks down to the small model of Unseen University, of the library, and without need to see, draws forth three more figures. One is a woman. She places the two soldiers before her and regards them thoughtfully, then picks up the man. Her smile widens. She throws the dice.
~*~*~*~
"Just our luck."
There was a brilliant flash of green and a small explosion. Then, when Sam had managed to blink the green spots out of her eyes, there was no Colonel.
"Sir!?" she called out in alarm.
"Jack?" Daniel tried.
"Now what!?" Sam directed this angry question at Rincewind and Ponder, who looked just as bemused (if not more so) as SG-1. What was left of it.
"Eh..um...well..er.." Ponder managed.
None of them knew. Neither wizard had any idea as to where Jack had disappeared to and could offer no explanation as to why. Sam turned slowly in the area where, seconds before, her Colonel had been standing. Crouching to the floor, she picked up a long silver chain in her elegant fingers. Dog-tags.
Daniel felt his sanity slipping slowly away from him.
*This is some sort of crazy, bizarre, twisted little dream.It has to be. None of this is possible. There is no such thing as a wizard university, grown-men do not just disappear, boxes do not walk around eating Jaffa and orang-utans do not understand English.*
"Ook."
Carter's head jerked sharply up in the direction of the Librarian. The other three also turned to look at the ape, who had climbed down from his position on the shelf and was watching them expectantly.
"Ook. Ooook, ook ook. OOook:ook ook. Ook."
Hardly believing she was about to ask her next question, she turned defeatedly to Rincewind and enquired
"What did he say?"
"He said 'Ook'."
The look Carter sent in his direction meant that Rincewind quickly added
"Roughly translated he said: 'He has been taken by she Who Must Not Be Named. He should not have spoken her name in the Library, a place of magic and wonder where mystical forces are at work day and night and often do overtime."
"He did not." Sam stated.
"He was *paraphrasing*." sulked Rincewind.
"Anyway, what Lady?" she suddenly demanded petulantly.
"THE lady. She Who Must Not Be Na-"
"Yeah. I got that. I still have no idea who you're talking about." Sam folded her arms and glowered at the wizard. It was not in her nature to be jealous, but if her Colonel was going to go around getting kidnapped be some 'Lady', she damn well wanted to know which one.
"Well, I can hardly jus' *tell* you, can I?" Rincewind complained. "She 'Must Not Be Named'. 'S'no good Not wanting to Be Named if people like me can jus' go tellin' people like you, is it? Eh?."
Holding Carter back from strangling the scrawny wizard, Daniel asked
"He's not *dead* though. Is he?"
"Dunno." Rincewind said.
"It depends what kind of mood She's in, really." Ponder added helpfully
"What are we going to do now?" Daniel turned to Sam. "This means you're in charge of SG-1."
"SG-1? What SG-1?! Me,you, and a Jaffa-in-the-box? We don't even know if the Colonel and Teal'c are still alive!"
"Oh, the big one's alive alright." Rincewind hurried to reassure them. "The Luggage doesn't *eat* people, per se., it's just stored him. He's in there." he pointed to the chest, which Daniel could swear was dozing lightly in the corner.
"And Jack?" he asked.
"I don't have a clue. He might be alive. Possibly. Maybe."
Sam's shoulders sagged.
"Maybe."
Rincewind and Ponder were quiet, regarding her sympathetically. The Librarian watched her also, a solemn expression on his primate features. Even the Luggage had the decency to look a little guilty.
Suddenly, Rincewind brightened.
"We could always ask." he proclaimed
"Ask who?" Sam's head snapped up and a glimmer of hope shone in her eyes.
"Death, of course."
~*~*~*~
He opens his eyes and looks around him. The world is a hazy grey, like San Francisco fog on a dull day. He is not alone. He can sense her. She is somewhere near.
"Who...are you? Where am I?"
A figure moves out from the mist.
**Do not be afraid of me. You called my name. I rolled my dice. You have chosen me. I have chosen you. I have helped you many times before. Not on this world. Not in this form. But many, many times.**
"I don't understand. Where am I? What the hell is going on?"
**Observe.**
Her voice lilts like a flute, soft and reedy. He tries to make her out, but his head is as foggy and confused as his surroundings. Then the mist clears and he is looking down at a flat world. No. A model of a flat world. As he stares the world becomes larger, rushing up to meet him and he is back in the Library. He can see people, figures. Five. Two. They are very familiar. A man. A woman. He peers closer. A woman. Something stirs inside him and he tries to catch hold of it, but it flees his mind as quickly as it came.
**Those who seek me never find me, but you have been my friend for many years, have you not? They say I have a soft spot for Last, Desperate, Million-to-one chances. Yours is thus. Regard. She. She is important. I shall not tell you why. You must think deeply. But first you must rest.**
He tries to tell her that he is not tired. That he does not wish to sleep, but his mind is already closing. He catches a glimpse of two brilliant green orbs for a brief second, but then they are gone. His mind turns to the woman. A name wells up inside him and reaches the tip of his tongue before it recedes, forgotten, and he drifts into oblivion with her image in his mind.
~*~*~*~
Deep in the basements of Unseen University, four people sat in a rough circle, legs crossed, heads bowed. One figure drew something from within the recesses of his robes. He laid two bits of driftwood and an egg (stolen from the University's cavernous kitchens) in a crudely drawn octogram surrounded, at each point, by eight candles. The figure raised his hands and began to chant softly. One of the others leaned over and whispered softly:
"So...what exactly does this involve again?"
The person on the right hand side bent over to reply.
"There are ten ways to perform the Rite of AshkEnte. This is the simplest."
"It would have to be." The third figure muttered crossly.
The speaker paused to glare at the interruption, but was bid to continue by his companion.
"Nine of the ways kill you instantly. The last one is merely very difficult."
There was some rapid mental calculation from two of the group.
"Er..I thought you said this was the simplest way, not the *only* way?!"
"It is. The ones that kill you are exceedingly more difficult." the speaker replied sarcastically. "What I *meant* was that these are the simplest tools to use. There is a big ceremony usually involved, but this works just as well."
"And if this works..."
"We will summon Death Himself, bind Him in the octogram and then you c'n ask Him about your friend yourself."
There was a contemptuous snort from the left. Daniel turned round to face Sam.
"You have a better idea?"
She didn't answer. Instead, all four fixed their attention on Ponder, whose voice had risen towards the end of the chant. Daniel watched entranced as the young wizard ended the chant, made a few complex sigils in the air with his hands and the egg lifted from the floor, split in two. The white and the yolk made the shape of a perfect skull, amidst the sudden wind that had picked up. Then the egg rejoined, sealing as though it had never been broken. Ponder dropped his hands to his sides and waited. Nothing happened.
"I told you it wasn't g-"
Sam was cut off as a blinding blue flash encompassed the room. All four were temporarily blinded. When their vision returned, it was pitch black. All the candles had been blown out by a sudden gust of cold, dank wind. All was silent. Then...
YES?
The four of them jumped. The voice that echoed through the room was as deep and hollow as aeons. The syllable sounded like the lid of a coffin slamming shut, writing on a cold stone slab each letter. Daniel looked wildly around for the source of the voice. He felt Sam's hand brush him as she groped in the dark for one of the extinguished candles.
GET ON WITH IT THEN. I HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY
After fumbling on the floor for a candle and the box of matches, she finally succeeded in acquiring some light. And immediately wished she hadn't bothered.
The figure was seven feet tall and draped in a long, coweled robe that could have been woven from the fabric of night itself. In one skeletal hand, he held an elegantly sharp scythe. From under his hood gleamed the white of polished bone and two huge, empty eye sockets like the remnants of a supernova. He was the Grim Reaper of tales and legend. The personification of all humanity's fears of death. And he was standing not more than a foot away from Samantha Carter. There. Himself
*Oh. My. God.*
~*~*~*~
IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO ASK, PLEASE DO IT QUICKLY. OTHERWISE....OH. IT'S *YOU*.
Sam, Daniel and Ponder turned as one to look at Rincewind. He coughed in embarrassment and ducked his head.
"I've spend the past few years trying to avoid him, you see. Done it quite well too." he muttered
INDEED. YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD MANY TIMES BEFORE. IT IS MOST ODD.
Death was thoughtfully quiet for a few moments. Then he seemed to mentally shake himself.
I TRUST THERE IS A REASON FOR MY SUMMONS. WIZARDS ARE OFTEN MOST RELUCTANT TO PERFORM ASHKENTE.
Sam cleared her throat. How did you address Death?
"Ah..excuse me? Sir? We, actually, are the ones who wanted to see you."
The tall robed figure regarded her for a moment.
YOU ARE NOT OF THIS PLACE. YOU ARE UNFAMILIAR. YOU DO NOT FIT.
She shifted nervously. The skull grinned at her from beneath the hood. He did not appear to be reprimanding her, merely curious. He was a lot easier to talk to than she had expected, but then she was becoming frighteningly used to the bizarre.
"No. We are from a place called Earth. We came here through the Stargate."
"The what?" Rincewind asked, confused.
"It's a gate that lets us travel to other worlds, other planets." Daniel explained in a whisper. The two wizards looked at him as though he were utterly mad. He wasn't sure that they would be incorrect on that assumption.
Death was watching Sam with an odd expression, insofar as his skull could hold any expression at all.
VERY WELL. YOU MAY ASK ME YOUR QUESTION AND I WILL ANSWER IT TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE.
"The best of your knowledge?"
I KNOW ALL
"Ah." Samantha took a deep breath. The shock of the past few hours was starting to seep in, and she was growing tired. *He could do this. He would do this for you.*
"When we arrived, there was another with us. A man. Colonel Jack O'Neill. He went missing from the library a few hours ago. Is he..." she paused, regaining her composure, at once welcoming and resisting the answer. "Is he dead?"
Death looked down at her. She found her gaze drawn into the deep, eyeless depths of his sockets. She was vaguely aware that she was trembling. He tilted his head slightly to the side, his gaze averted as he thought.
NO
Sam let out the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. She could have cried in relief. Or hugged the skeleton. She settled for giving him a faint smile.
YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE. YOU WILL UPSET THE BALANCE OF REALITY. IT'S NOT VERY STABLE AS IT IS, YOU KNOW.
Sam nodded. She didn't really understand what he meant, but felt that some participation on her part would be only polite. Death was silent for a few more moments, lost in some inner consideration. Then he drew himself up to his full, impressive height.
YOU WILL COME WITH ME. TO MY COUNTRY.
"Been there." Rincewind muttered to Daniel. "It's not very exciting. Very limited decorative skills, he's got. All black 'n' white and skull motifs. You know."
YOU WILL COME WITH ME AND WE SHALL LOCATE YOUR FRIEND. THEN I WILL HELP SEND YOU BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM. IF YOU ARE TO REMAIN HERE FOR ANY AMOUNT OF TIME HOWEVER, THERE IS SOME BUSINESS I MUST ATTEND TO. LIABILITY FOR YOUR LIVES IS NOT MINE TO HOLD HERE. I MUST HAVE THE LIFETIMERS FROM *YOUR* REALITY.
With that, Death snapped his fingers, and at once the whole party stood on the roof of Unseen University's main building. Rincewind took one look down, gulped, and closed his eyes; muttering to himself about the perils of any height above ground level.
"But...we can't go! I mean...go where?! How?! And all our stuff is still in those rooms!" Daniel exclaimed.
Death snapped his fingers for a second, then a third, time. Four military issue backpacks appeared on the roof. So did a horse. An *enormous* horse. It shook it's proud head and gazed upon the strangers. It was the horse that every knight-in-shining-armour dreams of. A magnificent white charger with hair like silk, hooves like marble and eyes like fire, and an ancient intelligence that radiated from its very soul.
BINKY. Death explained.
~*~*~*~
He wakes slowly, memories, dreams, swimming together in his mind in a blurry cacophony of images. As his vision slowly clears, he hears a voice calling.
**Jack. Wake up, Jack. It is time I speak with you.**
He looks up into a familiar face, smiling gently down at him. He returns the smile sleepily as his eyes drink her in. A tall, slender form, bent over him. A soft, smooth, beautiful face. Porcelain pale skin. Short, silky blond hair. Large green eyes...
No.
No! That wasn't right. Sitting up abruptly he shakes the last remnants of sleep from his addled mind. Not green. Blue. Her eyes were blue.
"Who are you?" he croaks.
**Ah. I see. I can change my form to suit you. But not my eyes. They say eyes are the windows to the soul. They are correct.**
His mind has cleared and he finally remembers. Standing up her faces her angrily.
"Who the hell are you? And where am I? And why in *God's name* do you look like Carter?"
She regards him, before shaking her head slightly. With that subtle movement, everything about her changes. Her short blonde hair becomes as black as midnight and lengthens to her waist. Her figure becomes taller, her skin almost snow white. Her eyes, though, stay exactly the same. Two pure green orbs gleaming at him.
**You still do not understand. You still do not know me, yet it was you who called me. Called my name.**
"Called you? I don't know who the hell you are!"
He glowers at her. His face twists angrily. He has been taken, from his home, from his team, from his friends. And he has no idea why. Or by whom. Or for what.
**You called me. In the Library.**
He searches his memory. Tries to recall a name he could have uttered. It seemed such a long time ago now. Sam, Daniel, Teal'c. They were the only names he remembered calling. The only ones he knew on this entire insane planet. Yet...
*Just our luck.*
Just. Our. Luck.
*Those who seek me never find me.... They say I have a soft spot for Last, Desperate, Million-to-one chances...*
"Oh, you *gotta* be kiddin' me."
~*~*~*~
*It's really rather beautiful.* thought Daniel Jackson.
The Disc was an extraordinary display of light and sound below them. Through the clouds he could see buildings, fields, the Circle Sea. The view was quite spectacular. And it wasn't as though he was unused to flying, as such, it was just he usually did it in an aeroplane. Not on the back of a mighty white charger, clinging to the robes of a seven foot skeleton, while keeping one eye on a dangerously homicidal wooden box strapped to the back of the saddle. He could also feel Sam behind him, one hand gripping the jacket of his fatigues, mumbling a prayer or a mantra, trying to keep herself sane. He had long ago given up any hope of this. It was bizarre, yes, but hell, if you couldn't beat 'em... Anyway. Jack was always going on about how only Daniel believed in 'fairytales'. Well, now he had a good comeback.
WE APPROACH MY COUNTRY.
Daniel looked up excitedly, aware that Carter had also shifted behind him.
Before them lay a vast country. Ground. Line. Flat line. Daniel cocked his head. If you turned a certain way you couldn't even see it. Yet somehow, supported on this knife-edge were a large, Gothic-style cottage, a garden, stables and, Daniel could see in the distance, a huge, golden cornfield. This, he admitted to himself, was slightly unexpected. Seeing the direction in which the archaeologist's gaze was directed, Death told him proudly
I DID THAT MYSELF. ADDS A BIT OF COLOUR TO THE PLACE, DON'T YOU THINK?
"Oh..Um.. Yes." Daniel struggled for an answer. "Very...nice."
Binky touched down smoothy in the garden. Death dismounted, turning to help an exhausted Sam down before stalking away towards his house, Major in tow. Well. It was nice to see the Grim Reaper had a sense of chivalry, Daniel thought grumpily, tumbling sideways off the horse. He regarded his surroundings suspiciously. It was like being in an old Black and White movie. Except for the cornfield just visible in the distance. He turned towards Binky and eyed the horse, faced with the immediate problem of getting their supplies, the Luggage and Teal'c off.
"Don't worry about that, young Sir. I'll see to it." An elderly little man had appeared behind him from nowhere. Daniel was starting to get used to it, so it came as no great shock.
"The master wants to see you in his study." he was informed.
"Thanks." he replied, making his way rapidly towards the cottage without even a backwards glance. The servant shook his head.
"These young ones, Binky." he rambled. "Too much confidence, not enough sense. Explorers, He said they were. Explorers. Sometimes too much curiosity's not good for you. Too much knowledge. I know."
And unfastening the backpacks, directing the Luggage on it's way and sending Binky to rest in his stable, Alberto Malich, 2000 years old plus, Wizard of the Eighth level (retired), Founder of the Unseen University, made his way back to his master's house.
~*~*~*~
It had, on first sight, surprised Daniel that Death lived in a cottage. Large as cottages go, but still a cottage. It therefore came as no great shock to discover that the 'cottage' was actually considerably larger on the inside than on the out. It had taken him twenty minutes of wandering round the various rooms to locate the study. At least, it felt like twenty minutes. His watch had stopped as soon as Binky had set foot on the ground outside. No time passed in Death's country. *Something* did, but it wasn't time in the context Daniel was familiar with. When he did reach the study, it was a cavernous room, miles across. It had taken him a mere few footsteps, though, to reach the desk in the centre. He was starting to wonder if his perceptions of dimensions wasn't slightly skewed.
AND YOU SAY HE IS IN THIS BOX.
Sam was attempting to explain to Death about Teal'c's present situation. They had tried, without luck, to open the box several times since Jack had disappeared. Once, Stibbons had almost lost his fingers. Death did not seem to be doing any better. Even at his orders, the Luggage stayed firmly closed.
"Yes. It won't let him go." Sam was staring despondently at the Luggage. It had been parted from Rincewind with a great deal of complaint. After she had pointed out that he'd told them the chest was a 'bloody nuisance', the wizard had replied:
"Yes, it's an evil little bugger sometimes, but I've had it *ages*. And it's got all my clean underwear in it."
They had finally managed to convince him that their friend was more important that his Y-fronts and had taken it with them in the hope that the Grim Reaper would have more luck than them. It had so far proved unsuccessful. Death looked up as Daniel appeared, then looked over at Sam.
YOU SHOULD REST. YOU ARE EVIDENTLY TIRED. WE SHALL BEGIN OUR SEARCH FOR YOUR FRIEND AFTER YOU HAVE GOTTEN SLEEP. ALBERT WILL SHOW YOU TO A ROOM.
Sam nodded mutely and turned to go with the manservant. Daniel made a move to follow, but Death called
NO. YOU SHALL STAY HERE FOR THE TIME BEING. I WISH TO SPEAK WITH YOU.
Daniel turned back towards the desk, taking the seat that Death motioned him into. The tall skeleton rose from his own chair and walked to gaze out of the enormous window which graced the entire back wall. It looked out into infinite mist, as far as Daniel could see, but there was no telling what the other saw in it's hazy depths.
YOU ARE DIFFERENT FROM THE OTHERS. YOU SEEK TO FIND MORE.
Daniel kept silent. He had no idea what Death was talking about.
WHY DID YOU COME HERE?
The question surprised Daniel.
"We came by accident. We explore other planets, other cultures. We ended up here by mistake. A malfunction."
YOU SEEK THE GODS. THE FALSE GODS.
Daniel looked at Death in confusion.
"The Goa'uld?"
YOU CALL THEM THUS.I HAVE SPOKEN WITH AZRAEL. MY MASTER. MASTER OF ALL. THE ROUND GATE WHICH YOU TRAVELLED THROUGH WAS NOT PLACED HERE BY ACCIDENT. IT ARRIVED SEVERAL DAYS AGO. YOU SEEK KNOWLEDGE OF YOUR OWN HISTORY. THE HISTORY OF...EGYPT?
In confusion, Daniel nodded his head.
I WILL SEND YOU TO KLATCH. THERE, IN DEJELIBEYBI, YOU WILL FIND SOME ANSWERS.
"Klatch?"
Death motioned to a large, jewelled model of the Disc in the corner of his study which had gone unnoticed by Daniel. He rose and stared at it. As he looked into it, he could feel the world rushing up to meet him and suddenly it was as though he flew once again on Binky. Below him was a panorama of sand, statues, houses. *Pyramids*. He gasped.
THEY ARE DIFFERENT FROM THOSE YOU KNOW OF, BUT ACHIEVE EXACTLY WHAT YOUR FALSE GODS WISH. YOU MAY TAKE YOUR BOX ON LEGS AND STUDY THEM FOR THE TIME YOU HAVE REMAINING ON THIS WORLD.
"And Sam?"
SHE WILL REMAIN HERE WITH ME. SHE HAS BUSINESS SHE MUST ATTEND TO. YOU WILL GO.
"Okay." Daniel answered dubiously. Then the archaeologist in him asked
"What did you mean, they achieve 'exactly what the false gods wish.'?"
IN THE CENTRE OF ONE OF THESE PYRAMIDS, ONE COULD LIVE FOR EVER. TIME IS STORED IN THEM. NONE PASSES, MUCH LIKE IN HERE. I AM SURE YOU WILL FIND IT FASCINATING. TALK TO THE QUEEN OF DEJELIBEYBI. SHE KNOWS A LOT ABOUT PYRAMIDS.SOMETHING OF A NATIONAL OBSESSION, I BELIEVE.
Death turned again to face the window. Then quietly:
WHAT IS IT LIKE? TO SEEK OUT GREAT KNOWLEDGE? I KNOW MUCH. ALMOST ALL. I HAVE NO TIME TO TRAVEL, REALLY. THE DUTY MUST ALWAYS BE DONE. DO YOU ENJOY IT? I HAVE NEVER BEEN OFF THIS WRETCHED WORLD TO VISIT ANOTHER. I AM ALWAYS ON OTHERS, BUT NOT IN THIS FORM. AZRAEL HAS MORE...SUBORDINATES, YOU MIGHT SAY.
It was such an odd question it took Daniel several moments to think of a reply.
"Yes. I do enjoy my work. The thrill of discovery. The rush of travelling to different planets and finding cultures both unique and similar. And I like working with my team, working at the SGC. I've seen other worlds, other races. I've been in space.I wouldn't give it up for anything."
Death nodded slowly, then composed himself.
THEN TO DEJELIBEYBI. TELL THEM I SENT YOU.
He moved towards Daniel and waved a hand casually at him. Daniel felt the world start to spin, then a pull at his body not unlike the feeling of travelling through the gate. As the blood pounded in his ears and he felt himself being sucked in by some unseen force, he heard Death mutter,
SPACE MONKEY.
And then he was gone.
~*~*~*~
He is sitting in front of a large model of the world. However, he pays it no attention. In his hand he is gently turning over a small, carved figure of a woman clad in military fatigues. He stares at it and marvels at it's beauty and fine detail. She, the other, left him long ago with his thoughts. He is glad. He still does not understand what she wants with him, although at least now he knows who she is. From what he can tell, there is no way in or out of this strange dimension. There is only the mist. And the model. He closes his hand over the figurine and paces over to the Disc. If he stares at it long enough he can see continents, countries, towns, houses and, eventually, individuals. He has tried searching for her, but he can find no trace of her.
*Carter.*
She has been in his thoughts for some time now. The other, the Lady, says Carter is important. That she is his key out of here. His...salvation, almost. He sighs. If only he could find her. Suddenly, a movement over Klatch catches his attention and he visualises Dejelibeybi. Two have just appeared. Daniel and the Luggage. Containing Teal'c. He searches wildly for any sign of Sam but finds none. He growls in exasperation and moves away from the model, sitting back down, cross-legged on the floor. He opens his hand and stares once more at the figurine, trailing a finger lightly over the carved face, then closes his eyes. He misses her.
"Carter."
~*~*~*~
Sam shot up in the unfamiliar bed. She had heard something. A whisper...a breeze. Her name? Confused, she took in her surroundings. Pink. Lots of pink. Where was she? Shaking her head to clear her sleep fogged brain, she remembered. The Disc. Death's house. She one more glanced around the room. She had been too tired last night to listen to what Albert had been telling her, but from what little knowledge had penetrated her exhausted mind she knew this to be the bedroom of Death's late, adopted daughter Ysabell. Throwing back the covers, she picked up her fatigues jacket, vest, boots and cap. She had slept in her trousers and jumper. Albert had offered to find her something of Ysabell's, or even of Death's granddaughter Susan--a woman in her early twenties she believed--but judging those two women's taste by the decor in her current room, she had declined. Wandering through the open door, Sam followed the smell of frying bacon. She'd had nothing since breakfast yesterday and, while there were ration packs in her backpack, she felt that the benefits of the local food against the aforesaid packs far, *far* outweighed the risks.
Finding herself in a roomy kitchen, she headed towards the stove where the smell was wafting from. In the frying pans were eggs, bacon and sausage. Her stomach growled.
"Hungry, love?"
She jumped in surprise to find Albert standing beside her. He handed her a plate and flipped two slices of bacon, a fried egg and a slice of sausage onto it, and guided her to a table in the centre of the room.
"There you are then."
"I thought that *he* wouldn't need to eat." Sam said, puzzled as she looked around the well stocked kitchen.
"Oh, he doesn't. And neither do you or I when we're up here. But I find a good breakfast is the best way to start the day. He mostly just drinks tea, you see." Albert informed her conspiratorially, sitting down with his own plate.
A thought struck Sam, and swallowing she asked:
"Where's Daniel?"
"Gone to Klatch, I believe. To study the pyramids."
Sam almost choked on the tea Albert had brought her.
"Klatch? Pyramids? When?"
"Last night, dear. The master sent him with the damnable box of that wizard. He wants to see you after breakfast. In the Lifetimers room. I'll take you there once you've finished. Oh. And I suppose *you'll* be wanting something to eat an' all then?"
This last sentence, Sam observed, was directed at the region of the floor. Curious, she bent down to look under the table and came face to face with a large pair of empty eye sockets.
SQUEAK?
Sam shot out of her chair in alarm, sending the small rodent diving for cover on Albert's lap. She stared at it in shock. Albert laughed.
"Oh, you needn't be scared of him, m'dear." He picked the creature up by the hood of it's robe. "This's just the Death of Rats."
The little skeleton rat, swathed in black, brandished a tiny scythe at her.
SQUEAK! SQUEAK, SQUEAK, SQUEAK!
"A mouse!?" Sam exclaimed
"Oh yes. Came from all that business back a few years ago when the master went on 'holiday' and split up into all sorts. Deaths of Rats, Gnats, Bats, Cats, Dogs, Hogs, Trees, Fleas, Bees, Flowers... etc. You name it, we had it. This is the only one who didn't go back. 'cept Fleas, I think. Not sure what happened to him, really." He set the rodent down on the table, where it promptly proceeded to swipe the remaining bacon and egg from his plate.
"If you're finished, I'll take you up to the Room of Lifetimers." Albert told Sam.
"Oh. Yeah." Sam replied. She had lost her appetite. She wasn't sacred of mice. She wasn't scared of much, actually. But getting up close and personal with a skeletal rat had not been on her list of Things To Do in a Lifetime. To her dismay, the Death of Rats decided to accompany them and clambered up the back of her fatigues to rest on her shoulder.
SQUEAK. it told her.
~*~*~*~
The Lifetimers room wasn't vast. It approached vast. Then passed it and came out on the other side. Row upon row upon row of hourglasses lined the walls, all shapes and sizes and all resting on a base with a name scratched into it in deep lettering. As Sam gazed around she saw some disappear as the sand they contained ran out, others appear from thin air with a top bulb full of fresh sand as the everyday births and deaths of the Disc proceeded on perfect schedule. Albert weaved between shelves with Sam in tow, still with the Death of Rats perched on her shoulder like a cloaked parrot with very sharp claws. Finally, they reached the aisle in which Death was standing clutching a Lifetimer. Three more stood at his feet. He glanced up as Albert approached, noting Sam.
THANK YOU ALBERT. LEAVE HER HERE.
The manservant nodded and turned to go. Sam looked him nervously. He gave her a reassuring smile and a pat on the arm, before disappearing back into the maze of hourglasses.
COME HERE, GIRL. REGARD.
Death held the Lifetimer he had been holding out to her. She took it in trembling fingers and turned it over in her hands so she could see the inscription.
JACK O'NEILL
She peered at the top bulb. It still appeared to contain quite a lot of sand. The thought was comforting to her. She noticed that there were a strange swells in the bulb, like an outwards bubble in the glass. She was momentarily confused, until she realised that Colonel O'Neill had not only *cheated* death on a number of occasions, but had actually been killed once or twice. This must be the effect on his Lifetimer. It wasn't until then that she noticed something else strange about the hourglass. *The sand wasn't moving*. She looked up at Death confused.
"I don't understand..."
I SENT FOR THESE FROM YOUR ASTRAL PLANE OF EXISTENCE. THEY ARRIVED THIS MORNING.
*They get UPS out here?* Sam thought mildly, still watching the frozen Lifetimer.
OBSERVE THESE. Death bent down, then handed her two more Lifetimers.
SAMANTHA CARTER
DANIEL JACKSON
Sam was relieved to see that there was still a considerable amount of sand left in both these hourglasses as well. There were also a number of 'bubbles' in the her own and Daniel's. She studied them closely. Daniel's seemed to be running fine. The sand trickled continuously through the neck to the lower bulb. But her own.... hers was in the same state of stasis as the Colonel's. The sand had paused in mid-flow. Her head snapped up to gaze, wide-eyed into the sockets of the Reaper's skull. He tapped Daniel's Lifetimer with a bony finger.
THIS IS HOW IT SHOULD BE. THE CONTINUAL PASSAGE OF ONE'S LIFE IN SMOOTH MOTION.
He then tapped Sam's hourglass in a similar way.
YOU ARE IN MY COUNTRY. TIME, AS YOU UNDERSTAND IT, DOES NOT PASS HERE. YOU DO NOT AGE. THIS IS WHY YOUR LIFETIMER NO LONGER FLOWS. WHILE YOU ARE HERE THE SAND WILL REMAIN IMMOBILE. HOWEVER, ONLY IF YOU ARE HERE. YOUR FRIEND IS NOT, THEREFORE HIS SAND SHOULD RUN PROPERLY THROUGH THE GLASS. THIS CAN MEAN ONLY ONE THING.
Death looked at her as if that thing should be as easily deducible as first-grade mathematics. Sam stared back blankly. Death sighed.
HE HAS BEEN TAKEN BY THE GODS.
Sam's body went rigid and her heart stopped. Her thoughts whirled round unintelligibly; except for one, horrifying fact.
*The GODS.*
Her frame shook. If they had him, and he was alive, he wouldn't be for long. Tears pricked at her eyes as her head drooped.
IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?
"He's been taken by the Goa'uld." she whispered softly.
WHAT ON THE DISC MAKES YOU THINK THAT?
She looked up at him through her eyelashes. A flutter of hope beat again
"You just said..."
THAT HE HAD BEEN TAKEN BY THE GODS. NOT THE GOA'ULD. THEY ARE FALSE GODS. I'M TALKING ABOUT THE REAL ONES. THE GODS OF DISCWORLD LORE AND RELIGION.
She shook her head, startled.
"The *real* Gods?"
IN THIS WORLD, THIS REALITY, ANY GOD CAN BE CREATED. AS LONG AS A FEW PEOPLE BELIEVE, THAT IS ENOUGH TO CREATE A GOD. WITHOUT BELIEF, GODS FADE AND DIE. WITHOUT BELIEF, WOULD YOUR GOA'ULD BE SO VERY POWERFUL? HERE, BELIEF MOULDS AND SHAPES A GOD...AN ANTHROPOMORPHIC PERSONIFICATION OF BELIEF, MUCH LIKE MYSELF.
Sam was amazed, but she didn't take much time to dwell on this sudden religious reality revelation. To her, there was only one important fact in all the information Death had just provided her. The Colonel was alive. Pulling herself back into her most military bearing and composure, she turned her head up to Death. She remembered the conversation she and Rincewind had had back in the Library.
"The wizard, Rincewind, he said something. That Colonel O'Neill had been taken by She Who Must Not Be Named...The Lady. What did he mean?"
LUCK
"It is?"
NO, *SHE* IS. THE LADY. LUCK
Sam stared at him.
"Oh, you *gotta* be kiddin' me."
~*~*~*~
She enters the room to finding him still siting, studying the figurine. She smiles softly.
**Do you understand yet?**
He glances up at her, then away, his eyes travelling back to the small form in his hand. She sighs and moves over to her playing board. She regards the model thoughtfully. Then, she turns and picks up three more of her carved dolls and looks at them. Her smile returns.
**I know that he is helping her as I am helping you. Perhaps she will understand him better. But, though he can go anywhere, anytime, it must be she who rescues you. Who makes you realise. I know where he is taking her. To them. To her.**
The cup appears once more in her right hand and the dice rattle. She walks over to where he sits in silence. She plucks the doll from his fingers amidst his angry protests. He follows her over to the board, still insisting that she return the figurine. She holds up a hand to silence him. She places the playing piece down in an area of the enormous model.
**She.**
And around her in a triangle she places the three. The well-built girl with magnificent chestnut hair.
**Maiden.**
The round, cheerful grandmother of fifteen sets of children
**Mother.**
And--at the point of the triangle--the tall, handsome, powerful woman in a long dress, black boots and a pointed hat.
**Crone.**
~*~*~*~
It was raining in Bad Ass. It often rained in Lancre. Death, Sam and the Death of Rats were trudging through the streets, leading Binky, who had the four SG members' backpacks attached to his saddle. Considerably *lighter* backpacks. Earlier, as they were preparing to leave, Death had explained--rather embarrassedly--that the curious white charger had been foraging in the rucksacks and had somehow managed to consume all of their rations. Sam felt more sorry for the horse than for herself. Saved her from having to eat them.
Sam had been worried that Death would cause a commotion among the local population, but they barely gave him a glance. Although they did give him a very wide berth.
*Natural sense of preservation.* She thought *What they don't see won't hurt them, what'll hurt them they don't see.*
The kingdom of Lancre was bordered on one side by the towering Ramtop mountains and on the other by the Sto Plains in which Ankh-Morpork rested. Death had landed just inside the village and had made them walk. Sam had no idea where they were heading. He had just told her to come with him, after his revelation about Lady Luck.
This had been occupying a large portion of Sam's thoughts for the past hour. When she had asked about Her appearance Death had merely answered WHATEVER SHE FEELS LIKE. This was bothering her more than she cared to admit. She dreaded to think of the effect a woman like that could have on the Colonel. If she could change her appearance at whim she could take on the form of anyone from Elle McPherson to Sara O'Neill.
*Sara O'Neill. God. Can you imagine...*
And the problem was, she could. Very clearly. And she was ever-so-slightly jealous.
The absolute *nerve* of this woman. Kidnapping the Colonel, taking him to some castle in the clouds and then tricking his mind into making him see something that wasn't there. She frowned. She missed him too. The last time she had missed him like this was when he was stuck on that planet for over three months with no way to get home. She had even admitted it to Janet. Her frown deepened. Then she worked nose to the grindstone to get him back and he didn't even *want* to come home. She kicked a loose stone irritably. What if that was the case now? She'd had experience with other commanding officers taking on SG-1 for a while, and she'd hated it. She'd have no one to talk to on the long missions. No one to bicker with. No one to flirt with. That was what she was missing most of all now. His sarcastic asides for her alone. Death was amiable enough, but he was still *Death*. It was very difficult to chatter with the Grim Reaper. Usually, you got one conversation with Death and that was it. In more ways than one.
She glanced up at her surroundings. They were now travelling on a path through the woods. The trees were dripping and the dirt beneath her feet had turned to mud. She wrinkled her nose. She could smell the rain. It permeated every bone in her body and rattled off the undergrowth. Above the trees she could see a curl of smoke rising and figured that was the direction Death was heading in. She trailed her feet slightly, still lost in thought. She didn't really care where he was taking her, as long as it led to the Colonel. She wanted to get him out of the Lady's grasp, Daniel out of Dejelibeybi and Teal'c out of the box. Damned Stargate malfunctions. When she got back she'd have Sgt. Siler's head. She kicked another rock vengefully.
ARE YOU ALRIGHT?
She raised her head to find Death watching her concernedly.
"Fine. Where are we going?"
TO SEE...AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE OF MINE. SHE WILL BE ABLE TO HELP YOU MORE THAN I IN THIS MATTER, I FEEL.
"Oh." Sam felt a tug on her trouser leg and absentmindedly bent down to scoop up the Death of Rats, who had been scampering alongside her for the past half an hour.
They emerged from the thick cluster of trees into a clearing. In it stood an old, ramshackle cottage. In front was an small lawn surrounded by herb beds and fruit bushes and behind a nearby tree stump was a small wooden outhouse. In the corner, about six large beehives spawned fat, yellow and black striped bees making sticky golden honey; unlike those in Death's own garden which were large, black and made a syrupy white substance that no mortal would dare sample. The cottage itself seemed to have grown from the very earth on which it stood, with its wooden walls and thatched roof. Sam could see several goats wandering aimlessly behind the house as she followed Death to the back door.
SHE BELIEVES THAT THE ONLY TIME YOU SHOULD USE THE FRONT ENTRANCE IS TO BE CARRIED OVER THE THRESHOLD, WED OR DEAD. Death informed her. SHE HAS SO FAR BEEN ABLE TO ADMIRABLY AVOID EITHER OCCURRENCE.
He opened the back door--more for Sam's benefit than his own necessity--and stalked through into the hall. Sam noted with interest a tall, pointed black hat hanging on a hook and nearby a rather battered broom leaning against the wall. Death led her through a flagged, ancient kitchen with a huge fireplace, table and rocking chair to a door opening onto narrow stairs. Following his tall, shadowy figure with the Death of Rats clinging to her shoulder, Sam found herself in a small bedroom with a cracked plaster ceiling and cold, stone floor. The dominant piece of furniture was the bed which stood in the centre of the room. On top of its home-made patchwork quilt lay a woman, deathly still. Sam guessed she was in her late sixties and wearing well. Her hair was knotted in a tight grey bun at her neck and her skin had a healthy glow which came with living in the country and getting plenty of fresh air and exercise. In her strong hands she held a placard. Bending closer, Sam read,
I ATE'NT DEAD
SHE'S OUT BORROWING. SHARING THE MIND OF ANOTHER. Death informed her. SHE'S VERY GOOD AT IT. ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL WITCHES ON THE DISC. *THE* MOST POWERFUL, I ACTUALLY BELIEVE.
Unsure of what to do next, Sam looked to Death.
WAIT A MINUTE
She followed his gaze to the figure on the bed. After a few seconds, her eyes began to flutter open. She stared up into Death's grinning face. Sitting up she checked her placard, then Death and finally caught sight of Sam.
"So, it's you, you old bugger. What do ye want with me?" The question was directed at Death and she surprised Sam with not only her frankness, but her familiarity.
I REQUIRE YOUR HELP, MISTRESS WEATHERWAX.
The woman's piercing blue eyes appraised Sam. She shifted. She felt distinctly uncomfortable under the witches scrutiny.
"What with?"
A COMPANION OF THIS YOUNG WOMAN HAS BEEN TAKEN BY THE LADY. SHE WILL NEED HELP TO RETRIEVE HIM. I FELL YOUR EXPERTISE OUTWEIGH MINE IN THIS TYPE OF SITUATION.
*What type of situation?* Sam wondered.
"Leave her wi' me."
THANK YOU. Death turned to Sam. I MUST DEPART. I HAVE MUCH I MUST ATTEND TO. YOU WILL BE PERFECTLY SAFE WITH MISTRESS WEATHERWAX.
Sam nodded dumbly as he turned, the Death of Rats leaping from her shoulder to attach itself to his robe. The thought of Death leaving actually scared her a little. He had been the one constant in her life since yesterday, and she had no idea who this woman was, or what she would do. And, admittedly, she had grown fond of him.
"I'll see you later." she said quietly.
UNDOUBTEDLY. he replied, before fading away, leaving only the farewell of the Death of Rats to echo hollowly round the room.
SQUEEEEAAAKKK!
~*~*~*~
The fire roared in the kitchen, heating the water in the kettle while the witch added tea leaves and milk to four cups. Sam had been led into the kitchen/parlour and sat down in one of the chairs at the table. A passing boy, at Mss. Weatherwax's summons, had run to fetch two more people to the cottage. Sam hadn't been able to make out their names. The witch hadn't spoken a word to her since Death left half an hour ago, merely led her downstairs. She watched the woman silently as she brought the steaming mugs over to the table and pushed one towards Sam, who nodded her thanks. Suddenly, the back door flew open.
"Cooee! Esme!? It's only me." A large, cheery woman about the same age as Samantha's host bustled into the kitchen, followed by a girl Sam guessed to be in her late teens or early twenties, heavily built with wonderfully shiny chestnut hair.
"Gytha. Agnes." Esme Weatherwax greeted them.
"Hello, Granny." the young woman replied.
Sam looked up at this. Granny?
* WED OR DEAD... SHE HAS SO FAR BEEN ABLE TO ADMIRABLY AVOID EITHER OCCURRANCE.*
Sam wrinkled her forehead in confusion. It was then the loud, motherly woman chose to notice her.
"Oh, hellloo! Who's this then Esme? She's not from round here."
"No. She's not." Granny Weatherwax agreed.
"Sit down Agnes. There's a good girl."
"Yes, Nanny Ogg." the youngest witch answered obediently, before rolling her eyes to Sam, who smiled. Granny. Nanny. They must be titles or salutations more than anything else, Sam deduced.
The two older witches sat themselves at the table so that all three were opposite Sam. Nanny Ogg tilted her head.
"What's her name, Esme?"
"Haven't the faintest." Granny Weatherwax sniffed. "Aint asked yet."
Nanny Ogg clucked her tongue. As a mother of fifteen, grandmother to countless and matriarch of the entire Ogg clan, she could tell that Sam was nervous. She peered at her. Young. Early thirties, maybe. About the same age as her Shirl. Beautiful features, short blond hair, figure indistinguishable under the bulky clothes she was wearing.
"What's your name, Pet?" she asked kindly. Sam was drawn to the woman's warmth like a moth to a flame.
"Sam Carter." she replied, ducking her head. It was almost instantaneous. You couldn't not feel like a young girl in this woman's presence. She had *Mother* written all over her. In capital letters. In permanent marker.
"Sam?"
"Samantha." she amended, looking up. Nanny Ogg nodded and smiled at her. "Where are you from, love?"
"Earth."
Agnes looked at her interestedly.
"From the earth. As in underground?"
"No. As in the planet. I'm not from the Disc."
Granny Weatherwax snorted, while Agnes regarded her like she was some sort of lunatic.
"Another planet?"
Nanny Ogg turned to Granny.
"How'd she get here Esme? Who brought her?"
Sam felt her face flush. They obviously thought she was out of her mind. She stood up angrily.
"Look. I'm *not* crazy. I'm from a planet called Earth. The United States of America. I'm a Major of USAF. I came here through the Stargate, near Ankh-Morpork. My C.O has been kidnapped and I need to get him back. I didn't ask for your help. I didn't come here for your help. And quite frankly I don't care if you think I'm a lunatic or not. But I was brought here for a reason..." and here she glared at Granny "...so either help me, or I walk out that door and you never have to hear from me again. Okay?"
Agnes and Nanny looked stunned. Granny Weatherwax studied Sam, who returned the stare defiantly. She had the feeling that not many, if any, crossed Granny Weatherwax that didn't regret it, but right now he primary concern, her *only* concern, was for Colonel O'Neill.
"Quite a temper." Granny remarked quietly, her lips quirking slightly.
"What did she say?" Agnes whispered. "What's a USAF. And a C.O?"
Nanny shook her head.
"Def'nitely not from round here. D'you hear that voice? That accent? And the way she spoke to *Esme*?"
Granny Weatherwax rose from the table.
"She was brought here by Him. The tall one in the big, black cloak. And she's bin put'n my care. So.." she turned to Sam. "..we'll help you. But we'll need to know what's broke afore we can fix it."
She turned to Nanny Ogg.
"What did you bring with you, Gytha?"
Nanny bent down and retrieved a medium-sized crystal ball from a bag at her feet.
"Brung this. Jus' like you asked."
"Agnes?"
"Some of Magrat's old spell books she left in the cottage before she left, Granny."
"Good. Set 'em on the table."
Granny picked up the lamp from where it stood on the shelf and blew it out. Darkness had fallen outside, so the only illumination was from the fireplace.
"Wait here." She turned and left through the door to the stairwell.
As soon as she'd gone, Nanny and Agnes turned to Sam.
"I've *never* heard anyone talk to Granny that way!" the young witch marvelled.
Nanny smiled.
"You're a brave girl. She'll like that."
Granny returned as quickly as she had left. She moved over to where the kettle still hung over the fire and threw a handful of herbs into the hot water. A strange fragrance wafted through the room.
"No need, really." she replied to Nanny's questioning glance. "But I'll bet this 'un's never done anything like this before?"
Sam shook her head.
"It's all headology." Granny sighed.
~*~*~*~
Sam was starting to settle into the company of the witches. The four of them crowded around the table and Nanny set her hands on the crystal ball.
"'S good for seeing things this, 'cept the picture's a bit squint. Now. Tell us what we're looking for."
Sam cleared her throat.
"Yesterday, my C.O ...Commanding Officer... Colonel Jack O'Neill was kidnapped from the Library at Unseen University."
Granny tutted.
"Wizards."
"We couldn't find him. Death took us to his country and told me that he'd been taken by The Lady. I need to get him back."
Nanny and Granny shared a glance.
"Ahem." Granny began. "Were you...That is to say are you....Have you ever.."
"Are you involved with this man. Romantically speaking?" Nanny interrupted
Sam's eyes widened in shock.
"NO! God no! He's my Colonel, for heaven's sake!"
"*Your* Colonel, eh?"
"Yes! No! It's not like that!"
"Then why're you gettin' all worked up?" Nanny asked. Sam gaped at her. Then she mentally shook herself and outwardly composed herself.
"He's my *Commanding Officer*." she explained slowly, as if all the answers to the universe lay in that one sentence.
Nanny shrugged
"If you say so, dear."
"Then why was he taken by Her?" Granny inquired. Sam shook her head.
"I don't know." she answered softly.
"Let's have a look then, shall we?" Nanny said after a few minutes to break the silence. The four of them leaned over the crystal ball. Sam stared into it's depths as it began to clear, revealing a man, clad in military combat-trousers and black vest. Shielding his eyes from the hot desert sun. Sam sighed.
"That him?" Granny asked her. "He wearing them clothes like yours."
"No. That's Daniel. He's in Klatch." She put her head in her hands.
"Don't give up yet." Agnes whispered encouragingly. "Look deeper."
Sam returned her gaze to the crystal ball, which began to fill with a white mist.
"Ah. Here we go girls." Nanny said optimistically. The fog began to clear. Again it reveal a man dressed it military fatigues, the SGC patch sown on the arm. His rough, angular face was drawn, his chiselled features troubled. He sat cross-legged in the centre of the mist. His gaze suddenly travelled up to meet hers, so that her was gazing directly into her eyes. Her heart hammered, her breathing slowed...
*Sam?*
His voice echoed in her head as she reached out to him with her mind, whispering his name too quietly for anyone's ears but his, only to find herself pulled back to reality by Granny's firm hand on her shoulder.
"Careful, now."
She looked up at Nanny Ogg who was watching the figure in the crystal.
"That's him?"
"Yes."
The witches continued to watch.
~*~*~*~
She enters her domain again. This time though the air is different. She smiles. They are watching. But they cannot see her just yet. With a simple thought, her appearance changes. She shrinks slightly. Her hair becomes short and blonde. Her face becomes older. She is clad casually in a pair of old jeans and a shirt.
**Jack?**
Even her voice is different. She moves towards him. He is tired and confused. He has had barely any rest and is unsure of what is happening to him now. He rips his focus away from some distant point in the ceiling.
**Jack?**
She glides towards him. Into the view of the watchers.
He turns.
~*~*~*~
*Oh, no. Oh, please God, no.*
~*~*~*~
He looks up at her. The voice, so familiar, yet impossible.
"Sara?"
~*~*~*~
*Come on Colonel. You know this isn't real. Please!*
The witches turned to watch her. They could tell something was very, very wrong.
"Who is she, Samantha?"
"His wife."
~*~*~*~
She moves to him, knowing *she* can see every move she makes.
**Hello, Jack.**
"You're not real. You can't be."
His mind still puts up resistance, even though she is gradually wearing him down. He is tired. It feels like years since he last slept
**It's all right. I'm here. It's me, Jack.**
She reaches him and puts a hand up to touch his face. Slowly, gently, she leans forward to catch him in a kiss. His arms wrap around her waist. He breathes a name.
"Sara."
~*~*~*~
Sam pulled sharply away from the crystal ball.
"*Damn* it!" she cried.
The three witches regarded her. Nanny Ogg spoke first.
"You never mentioned he was *married*."
"He's not. Divorced." Sam explained, her mind still numb.
"Eh?"
She looked up at their confused faces.
"You know? Divorced? As in separated? No longer married?"
The other women stared back at her, faces blank.
"Yer only *not married* if you've never *been* married. Or if he's dead and gone, dear." Nanny replied.
Sam was incredulous. These people didn't have divorce?
"Not in my world."
Granny shook her head.
"Then lets call this other one a...past flame, shall we? The important thing is gettin' him out of there. It ain't going to be easy now." She turned to look at Agnes.
"Get them books of Magrat's out then. She's bound to have something on the subject."
~*~*~*~
Six hours later, it was well into the night. The candles in Granny Weatherwax's kitchen had burned down to flickering, waxy puddles which cast strange shadows across the pages of the ancient books they studied. So far, all their attempts had been in vain.
"Nothing." Agnes sighed. "Nothing on Luck at *all*."
"Is it possible that we're looking in what you might refer to as 'the wrong bloody area?'" Nanny asked sweetly.
Granny looked up from the page she was studying.
"What d'you mean, Gytha?"
"Well...I still say this is something of a *romantical* nature."
Sam glanced up. She had long ago given up on trying to convince Gytha Ogg that the only relationship she had with Colonel O'Neill was a working one. In fact, if she remembered correctly, Nanny's exact reply to that had been:
"Oh, I'm sure it works *very* well, my dear, but that's not really the point."
The old woman was notorious for twisting words to suit herself. About an hour ago, Agnes had informed Sam of Nanny's love of cooking. She had learned about the infamous 'Carrot and Oyster Soup': "Carrots so's you c'n see in the dark, oysters so's you've got somethin' to look at."
Sam sighed despairingly.
"It's useless. We're never gonna find anything!"
Granny looked over at her. Then she shifted her gaze to the clock resting on a nearby shelf.
"Not at this hour. We'll keep going in the morrow. We all need our rest."
The three witches rose stiffly, stretching. Granny Weatherwax motioned Nanny Ogg over to her and had a quiet word in her ear. Nanny nodded. She walked back over to the table and sat opposite a depressed Sam.
"Now, love. We'll start again tomorrow and try and find something more. Between me, Esme and Agnes and all them books of Magrat's, we're bound to get your young man out." Nanny smiled in a motherly way. She did a lot of things in a motherly way. "But this is a small cottage and Esme don't really have the room and between you an me..." here, she leaned over and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "...'s a bit old and crumbly in here. Mine 's got much more modern conveniences. An' lots more room. You come with me the night and we'll all meet at mine in the morning. All right?"
Sam nodded wearily. She was much too tired to put up a fight. She picked up her jacket, vest and cap from where they had been discarded on the floor earlier and, bidding Granny Weatherwax goodnight, followed Nanny and Agnes out into the night. A chilling wind had picked up and the forest was swathed in black. Sam looked around her edgily.
"Aren't you worried, walking alone out here at this time?"
Nanny laughed.
"Not at all,love. What is there to be frightened of?" She grinned mischievously.
"Except us?"
~*~*~*~
Sam opened her eyes slowly. Sunlight streamed in from one of the high windows in Nanny Ogg's spare bedroom. One of her spare bedrooms. The amount of children she had, as she'd explained to Sam last night, called for quite a considerable amount of space. She eased her protesting body out of the bed and over to the night-stand. She had at least managed to get a bath last night, after they'd arrived. In a tin bathtub. Nanny's cottage was indeed more modern than Granny's, but not by much.
"Good morning, Pet!"
Nanny's cheerful voice shook her out of her reverie as she bustled in with an armful of clothes.
"I looked out some old stuff of our Shirl's and our Karen's and our Daff's." she burbled happily. "Got to get you changed out of them old things. They look worse than wot our Jason wears at the Blacksmith's Forge." She laid the bundle of clothes down on the bed and eyed Sam critically. "You're a tall lass, more like our Kev's wife than any o' my girls, but yer thin too. I think something of...Karen's." She rummaged around in the bundle. Sam walked over to study some of the items she'd brought. She closed her eyes when she saw some of them. Modesty did not seem to be a running trait in the Ogg household.
The two finally settled on a simple long, tan peasant skirt and a cream coloured, gypsy-style shirt. After twenty more minutes of deep exploration in 'Our Tracie's' wardrobe, Nanny also produced a pair of soft mules for her feet and a tooth-combed hair band to keep her fringe out of her eyes. Sam had to admit, she *was* more comfortable. They ate breakfast in Nanny's kitchen which, while being smaller then Death's and larger than Granny's, encompassed the same warm, relaxing atmosphere. Sam was shown pictures of innumerable grandchildren and great grandchildren and given a brief history on each one. She also learned that Nanny's cottage--in the centre of Lancre Town itself--was nestled between those of her eldest and youngest sons, Jason and Shawn respectively. She had just settled into a drowsy, midmorning stupor when the door to the cottage opened and Granny Weatherwax entered with as much dignity as a duchess.
"Good morning." she greeted them.
"'Allo, Esme." Nanny replied.
Granny cast an eye around the room.
"Young Agnes not 'ere yet then?"
"Not yet, Esme."
Granny sniffed in disapproval.
"Very well. We can't start wi' out her, so's we'll have to have some tea first. Make some tea, Gytha."
Without bothering to look up from her breakfast plate, Nanny automatically delegated.
"Make some tea, Ag...Samantha."
Sam looked up in surprise. Wordlessly she got up and moved to the kettle hanging over the fireplace.
*Dress like a Lancre girl, Act like a Lancre girl* she thought mildly. It was obvious the two older witches naturally expected subordinates to run after them. Subordinates in their particular personal dictionaries meaning any younger woman in the immediate vicinity. Still, they *were* helping her find the Colonel. She owed them some small courtesy in return at least. And making tea wasn't exactly the singularly most difficult thing she had ever done in her lifetime. As she was pouring the boiling tea into four mugs on the dresser, Agnes scurried in. She caught sight of Samantha and winced apologetically. Sam gave her a resigned smile and rolled her eyes. Taking two trips over to the table with the hot, steaming mugs, she eventually dropped into place beside Agnes, who was fidgeting excitedly. Granny noticed this too and, after taking a long sip of scalding tea, spoke.
"Out with it, girl."
Agnes beamed and produced a large, leather bound book from her bag.
"I was looking through Magrat's books last night and I found something."
The other three women looked at her expectantly.
"Jack O'Neill. I know where he is, why he's been taken, and how to get him back!"
~*~*~*~
She watches the scene with interest from her model. The girl is attractive. Far more than she had assumed from the military clothing she wore. She smiles widely. This is an excellent twist in the game! She looks over to where he rests, sleeping now. He is still confused, weary, unclear in thoughts and actions. The appearance of his wife...ex-wife... had fooled him for a few moments, but then he had pulled away. She returns her gaze to the model, to the kitchen. She had ensured that the girl had found the right spell. The book had fallen off the shelf as she was replacing another. She had intended to stop reading but the book had fallen open at exactly the right page. What were the chances of that? She knew. She could calculate them to precisely eighteen decimal places. But why waste time with that now? The scene unfolding below is so much more...interesting....
~*~*~*~
Sam and the witches stared at the page.
THE GODDESS WHO MUSTE NOTTE BE NAMED/THE LADY AND CONNECTED SPELLES THEROF.
Spelle Three: The Pow'r of Her Love
It hath often been discovered that The Lady hath fondness for laste chances. When a particular suitor is unable or unsuccessful in his pursuit of a beloved one, The Lady often intervenes on his behalf. She wille usually kidnappe the suitor in question and hold him until the appropriate spelle hath been performed nice and accurately. The spelle muste be performed by the suitor's intended who muste be willinge and wholehearted in her performance of the ritual.
"That's it?" Sam asked.
"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Nanny said, ignoring her. "Unable or Unsuccessful in Pursuit. Has he been either?"
Sam stared at her incredulously.
"He's my-"
"Commanding Officer." all three witches chimed in simultaneously.
Sam thought for a moment. It was ludicrous, but...
"Well, there are Air Force regulations. They define parameters between male commanding officers and the women under their command, or vice versa. If he *was* interested," she glared pointedly at each of the witches "...which he's *not*, then those would probably qualify him as 'unable'."
"Eureka!" shrieked Nanny Ogg. Agnes looked at her strangely.
"What does that mean?"
"It means 'Give me a towel' in Ephebian." Granny informed her. "Much of Ephebian philosophising is done while in the bath."
"So, what does the ritual involve?" Sam asked.
~*~*~*~
The candles were set in a perfect triangle on the floor. The crystal ball rested in the centre. Incense wafted through the room. The heavy curtains were tightly drawn. The three witches sat, crossed-legged, at each point of the triangle.
"Now," Granny Weatherwax began, reading from the large spellbook before her.
"D'you have anything of his? A piece of clothing? A personal object?"
Sam thought for a moment, then brightened. Reaching around her neck, she pulled off two sets of dog-tags. Quickly reading the IDs, she slipped one set back over her head and let the other dangle from her fingers.
"These."
Granny nodded.
"Sit in the triangle, then."
Sam stepped cautiously into the middle of the candles. The witches had gone over every step of the ritual in detail several times. Every question. Every response. It had still done nothing for her confidence. She placed one hand on the crystal ball. In it, she held a piece of parchment onto which Granny Weatherwax had written the spell. She wrapped the dog-tags firmly in her other.
"If this works, this might be goodbye." Agnes smiled. Sam returned the gesture. None of them were sure what would happen after the spell was cast.
"I appreciate all your help." She told them sincerely. Nanny gave her an affectionate grin.
"Say hello to your young man for us, then."
"Concentrate." Granny murmured.
Sam fixed her eyes on the crystal and conjured up an image of the Colonel in her mind. Around her, the witches began to chant nonsense words to her ears. The crystal began to swim. Granny's voice resounded in her ears from an incalculable distance.
"Whom do you seek?"
"Jack O'Neill."
She focused exclusively on the picture of O'Neill in her mind, forming it into a three-dimensional character. Face. Hands. Eyes. Voice. Scent. She imagined him in the room with her now, as her hair stirred in the powerful magical field being conjured by the witches low-pitched spell. Sight. Sound. Smell. Touch. She tried to bring him into her mind as the furniture rattled and the witches' voices began to climb in pitch.
"Where do you seek him?"
"In the grasp of the Lady."
She clung to his dog-tags like they were her lifeline. She forced her eyes open and stared into the milky depths of the crystal, remembering her last sighting of him. Her whole body was now in combat with a bone-jarring gale that was whipping through the cottage.
"Why do you seek him?"
"She has taken what is mine."
The door banged back against its hinges, the windows shook, the witches shrieked.
"Do you love him?"
The crystal cleared and suddenly she was being pulled forward, into a realm of mist and haze and confusion. Her body felt as though it was being ripped apart. Her mind reeled at the unrehearsed question.
*The spelle muste be performed by the suitor's intended who muste be willinge and wholehearted in her performance of the ritual.*
The answer came easily to her lips as she opened her mouth and uttered the words to complete and bind the spell.
"I do."
~*~*~*~
Her smile widens in delight as she regards the scene below her. She can feel the air crackle with raw magic and the wind begins to howl in her own domain. He sits up abruptly, his soldier's gaze already trained on her.
"What's happening?"
She ignores him and continues to watch her model as she sees the woman pulled from the kitchen. The mist around her is now spiralling, the fog rolling back like the very sky itself is being peeled away. His shouts continue over the rushing gale, but she pays him no heed. Then...there, in the corner of her vision, a hole rips into in the haze. Its depths glow a sharp, electric blue and he backs away quickly.
**Do not fear.**
A silhouette appears.
~*~*~*~
Sam felt herself jerked back into awareness as a loud, ripping sound tore the air like the disengaging of the Stargate's wormhole. She blinked, confused, and shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind. What had she just admitted?
She was standing in the middle of the same...room? ...that she had seen through Nanny Ogg's crystal ball. And there, a few feet away, was the Colonel. Her breath caught and her heartbeat froze.
"Sir?" she called out, gently.
"Carter?"
Her features split into a smile and she almost ran towards him, but suddenly her path was blocked. A figure rose before her. Two emerald eyes pierced her soul.
**It is not that easy.**
~*~*~*~
Jack froze as Sam started towards him, drinking the sight of her in. She was here. And very much out of uniform, he noted appreciatively. His mind spun. She--the other one--had told him that Sam was important. That she would be his way out of here. He hadn't believed her. Over the past few....hours?..Days?..Months?..he was no longer sure. During the amount of time he had been here, he had thought about her a lot. For 'a lot', read 'constantly'. Daniel and Teal'c he knew were safe, but he had never been able to locate Sam, and that had worried the proverbial hell out of him. At least now he knew she was safe and alive. And (just to recap in case his mind was playing some sort of sick joke on him) *here*. He began to move towards her, careful lest she disappear, when *She* appeared from nowhere.
**It is not that easy.**
Sam regarded her with a shocked expression which gradually turned to realisation, then coldly threatening.
"Get out of my way." she said, her voice low and dangerous.
**You dare order me, *Girl*?**
The Lady's menacing voice matched Sam's. Her eyes narrowed and her body tensed. Jack looked on in silence as the women stared each other down, expressions hard and icy. Sam's soldier's body took on almost feline grace as she moved slowly towards the goddess.
"Now." she hissed.
The Lady stood solidly between a confused Jack and predatory Sam, one more barrier separating them. Sam's fury was evident on her face.
**Last, Desperate, Million-to-one chances.** The Lady smiled eerily. **Jack.**
He felt himself unwillingly pulled towards her.
The Lady turned to him.
**There is only one way out of my domain now. She has performed her end of the bargain.**
"Bargain?"
**You must carry out yours. The spell has been cast. You must seal it fully.**
"Spell?" Jack was starting to fell seriously left out of the loop.
**Yes.** The Lady relaxed, and Sam cautiously stepped back a little. **Your admittance is the only wall left between you and your freedom. I will leave you to consider my words, to talk and accept.**
Her image began to fade, ghostly and ethereal, until only a suggestion remained, and her voice floated to his ears like a distant summer breeze.
**Tell me one thing.**
Her voice stirred the air in the room; a whispering laugh, wind through a wood.
**Do you feel Lucky?**
~*~*~*~
Jack watched until She had gone completely from his sight. He continued to stare at the empty spot for several minutes, lost in his own private world. His voice, when he eventually found it, was mildly distracted.
"Carter?"
She jumped, her head snapping up to immediate attention, her eyes diverted from where they had been staring awkwardly at the floor.
"Sir?"
"I am aware that, when speaking to you, it is customary for me to be more than slightly confused, but if you would just care to clarify what *exactly* is going on?"
Sam cleared her throat nervously. His voice was sweetly innocent, but she could hear the dark, authoritative tone of her Colonel behind the facade.
"Long story, Sir?" she pleaded. His eyes travelled from their distant vision to her face, and her raised and eyebrow.
"Carter?"
"Sir?"
"I'm certain I distinctly heard our hostess mention something about a bargain? And a spell?"
*Oh God*
"Yes, Sir." He nodded contentedly.
"And?"
With the clearly identifiable sinking feeling of a drowning woman, Carter began to recount the events of the past two days, from his disappearance in the Library to their relocation in Death's country to Daniel's departure for Klatch to her meeting with the three Lancre witches. She stopped when she got to Agnes' appearance with the spell book.
Jack was watching her with interest. She hadn't met his eyes once throughout her whole tale and he was starting to feel slightly suspicious. Her hands were clasped behind her back and her eyes were finding great interest in the floor. Her clothes and stance made her seem so much younger than the confidant, assertive, military Major he served side-by-side with on almost a daily basis. The colour was rising to her cheeks as he half-heard her begin talking about...witches? He couldn't help a small affectionate smile creeping over his lips at her embarrassment. This was gonna be good. Somewhere in the dark recesses of his brain, his natural sense of preservation alerted him to the fact that she had stopped speaking and seemed unwilling to continue. And that she was now watching him, hands on hips. Ah. *There* was his Major. What had she been saying?
"Cottage. Girl. Spell book. Then what?"
"We...um...did the spell which brought me here. To come and...rescue you."
"My hero." he grinned. "And this...bargain?"
Now her cheeks were burning as she stumbled over her words.
"There were...um...conditions to the..ah..spell, you see, and the only way to get here was to..well..I had to..." She trailed off, eyes closed. "Do I really have to tell you?" she enquired hopefully.
*Curiouser and curiouser*
"She said I had to keep my end. To...admit something? What?"
Was there no such thing as a mercy killing? Sam was beginning to wish feverishly that she'd just left him here.
"Sam?"
It was then she became aware that in her fisted hands she still held his tags and Granny's parchment. Forcing her eyes open and her mortification back, she handed them both to him. To his credit, he took them without comment. He slipped his dog-tags back on and unfolded the paper. As Sam watched, the part of her mind that was slowly turning insane noted with mild interest that it was the widest she had ever seen anyone's eyes go in her life. His eyebrows could have gone into orbit.
"Ah..ha."
She cursed internally as she felt the flush rise to her face again.
"Yes, Sir."
He cleared his throat uneasily. He glanced at the paper, the mist, the model disc, anywhere than at Carter. This was not good. At all. Now what did he do?
"This...um...admittance? I would have to be admitting that...I..?"
"Yes, Sir." Jack nodded.
"Major..." he began.
Sam closed her eyes again against the room. Rank. That wasn't a good sign.
"I believe I understand the nature of this...spell...but..."
He was struggling for words. He risked a glance up at Carter, who was looking for all the world like she wanted the ground to open beneath her feet and swallow her.
"It's not that..not like..." he trailed off.
"Major..." he tried again. Head still down, eyes still closed.
"...I'm your Commanding Officer.." Why had that made her smile? "...and you are as aware as I of the military regulations..."
Eyes opened. Suddenly she was watching him coolly, expressionless. Except...was there a measure of disappointment? Hurt? It was gone before he could confirm it. Her eyes turned to him. And, in retrospect, that was his downfall. Her face may have been masked, but her eyes were not.
*They say eyes are the windows to the soul. They are correct.*
*To hell with the regulations.*
Had he said that? Or was it her? Or was it either of them? It seemed to be more of a shared thought, a sudden decision. He had no idea who moved first, all he was aware of was the first, electric moment when he kissed her. When he *kissed* her, her lips soft, sweet and compliant. A small voice at the back of his mind--probably his conscience--politely knocked and asked him what the hell he thought he was doing, but he ignored it. He wrapped his arms 'round her tightly and lost himself in the moment. In her.
Sam slipped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer. She felt like she was again trying to conjure his image in the kitchen. Sight, Sound, Smell, Touch. Taste. The sensations overwhelmed her. Before coherent thought fled completely, somewhere from the recesses of her mind came a phrase from years ago.
*Yeah. My career is over.*
She was extremely surprised to find that, quite frankly, she didn't give a damn.
~*~*~*~
When they pulled apart minutes--or millennia--later, her head was reeling. Jack's forehead rested against hers, his breathing erratic.
"We're still here." he murmured softly.
She searched the still-functioning areas of her mind in confusion. She had him, in more ways than one, and that was all the spell had required. She had admitted that she loved him and he...hadn't.
"I think I see the problem." She looked up at him, eyes dark and hooded. He smiled.
"What?"
"She said you had to accept." He nodded. "And admit."
And he understood fully. She could feel it in the way his body suddenly tensed, his arms frozen around her. Panic began to grip her as her throat constricted and an involuntary tremble racked her frame. Silence held reign for an eternity.
*Fight or flight.* she thought. *I could walk away right now.*
But every muscle in her body was immobile. The hush that had settled over them was thick and heavy. The only noises Carter could hear was whisper of their breath and the synchronised beating of their hearts. Time was immeasurable as they stood, locked in a perpetual embrace. She waited, suspended in hellish limbo until the voice screaming inside her head could take no more.
"I love you."
It was no great moment of revelation. There were no fanfares, no fireworks, no violins. There was no intense flash of perfect clarity in which all their choices narrowed to a single, sharp point. There were only three words--soft, hesitant and unsure--to break the encompassing stillness.
Then, suddenly, he turned her head upwards and captured her in a lingering, gentle, agonizing kiss. As he broke away from her, she knew his next words had the power to break her. Infinite pause. Then:
"I love you, too."
The world exploded, the room spun and the dice rolled.
~*~*~*~
SG-1 found themselves standing on a dusty road, surrounded by fields, leading to a high stone gateway where they could just make out a sort-of-sentry standing to a very lopsided version of attention. The smell coming from the city was overpowering, and the ramshackle roofs of buildings he could see looked as though they were out of a medieval fairy story.
Déjà-vu.
Sam looked around her in astonishment.
"She put us back at the 'Gate!?"
"What? Who? Am I missing something?" Daniel was turning in small circles in complete bafflement, oblivious to the couple behind him, the Luggage sitting obediently at his heels. Letting Sam go, Jack glared at it.
"What's with the box?"
"Where did you come from?"
"Where did *you* come from?"
Sam interrupted the game of twenty questions with a silencing glare.
"Daniel?" she asked. The archaeologist beamed.
"I got sent to Klatch and it was just like Ancient Egypt! And they have theses pyramids there and you should see them! And you'll never believe some of the stuff I found out-"
Jack cut off the younger man's enthusiastic ramblings with a wave of his hands.
"Hey, hey, hey! What about Teal'c?"
"Oh. Yeah. He's...um..still in there." he pointed at the Luggage.
"Still?!"
"We couldn't get it to spit him out." Sam explained quietly.
O'Neill crouched down in front of the Luggage, which regarded him like a suspicious terrier.
"Open Sesame." he commanded. Even as Sam shook her head his flippancy, the Luggage gaped open.
"How in the-" she began, eyes wide as an utterly confused Teal'c clambered (and clambered was the only way to describe the Jaffa's desperate movements to get out of the chest) out of the open Luggage. Jack smiled smugly.
"Well, isn't that a stroke of-" Sam whipped round to face him "-randomised events leading to an event of favourable, unpredictable conclusion." he finished. She smiled.
Daniel and Teal'c glanced from one to the other, bemused, aware that they had missed out in a major factor of the conversation.
"Um...what happened to you guys, anyway?" Daniel enquired.
"Nothing much." Jack replied vaguley.
Teal'c prodded Daniel's shoulder.
"DanielJackson, I am confused?"
"You're not the only one." he muttered, then realisation hit. "Oh! About the past few days! Of course, sorry..."
Jack gestured to the 'Gate.
"Danny, dial us home, see if they got the line repaired yet. An' debrief Teal'c. I need to have a word with Carter." Daniel nodded compliantly and wandered off in the direction of the DHD with the Jaffa in tow.
"Now what?" Sam murmured, nervously.
"I have no idea." Jack admitted. "How about we concentrate on getting home, getting our story straight and go with the 'Let's-not-tell-General Hammond-everything' option?"
Sam smiled shyly and nodded.
"Then we'll decide where to go from here." he told her gently. "And it'll be OK, I promise." he reassured her. Her smile widened, trustingly.
"If you say so." Ensuring neither of the other two team-members were watching, she reached up and kissed him quickly. His grin widened.
There was a deafening *whoosh* and an ecstatic cry of "Whoo-hoo!". The couple turned to face the now-opened 'Gate, where Teal'c was watching Daniel with a curious expression.
"What is "Whoo-hoo" DanielJackson?"
"OK, people. Let's get out of here." Jack called. "Carter, send the signal."
Quickly dialling her GDO and picking up her newly-materialised backpack, she started towards the Stargate. She stopped beside O'Neill as he stood with the rest of the team, silhouetted against the shimmering backdrop of the wormhole, and followed his gaze downwards.
"It is *not* comin' with us."
The Luggage looked up at him pathetically. If it had had a tail, it would have wagged it.
"But its gotten kinda attached to me and Teal'c, and we *did* promise Rincewind we'd make sure it was safe, and we can always send it back later..." Daniel pleaded.
Jack looked at him and his puppy-dog expression, then at Teal'c and his raised eyebrow, then finally at Sam, who shrugged and smiled. He sighed.
"Fine. But we're *not* keepin' it." he announced, with a pointed glance at Daniel.
It hurried towards the archaeologist and followed SG-1 through the Stargate home.
~*~*~*~
EPILOGUE
The harsh light, the klaxons and the scurrying technicians and medics washed over the team as they emerged onto the ramp and back into the SGC. The lights, noise and activity, however, were suffused by a great sense of relief at their homecoming and by General Hammond's voice, welcoming his errant children home:
"Welcome back SG-1. It's good to see you safe. Debriefing in one.... What-in-the-Hell is *that*?!"
~*~*~*~
FINIS.
"THE GODS ARE JUST. THEY ARE ALSO SENTAMENTALISTS. I HAVE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO MASTER IT, MYSELF." Death: 'MORT' by Terry Pratchett
Story Notes: E-mail: Nike@saltcoats35.freeserve.co.uk
Season/Sequel Info: Post- Fair Game
Spoilers: Minor references to Hathor, 100 days and Shades of Grey.
Archive: SJRA
Feedback: Is appreciated. So is critisism, providing it's constructive. Keep in mind that this is my first ever fanfic!
Copyright © June 2000 Nike A. Johnston
Season/Sequel Info: Post- Fair Game
Spoilers: Minor references to Hathor, 100 days and Shades of Grey.
Archive: SJRA
Feedback: Is appreciated. So is critisism, providing it's constructive. Keep in mind that this is my first ever fanfic!
Copyright © June 2000 Nike A. Johnston
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]