SG-1 Fic: Of Virtue Fair (Vala, Mitchell, Carter, Daniel, O'Neill, Martouf, Nirrti; PG-13)
[Next entry: "SG-1 Fic: Coiled (Teal'c/Cameron; NC-17)"]
07/28/2007: "SG-1 Fic: Of Virtue Fair (Vala, Mitchell, Carter, Daniel, O'Neill, Martouf, Nirrti; PG-13)"
Title: Of Virtue Fair
Characters: Mitchell, Carter, Daniel, Vala, O'Neill, Martouf, Nirrti
Rating: PG-13
Words: about 4100
Summary: Once upon a time, there lived a girl pale of skin and dark of hair.
Notes: Fairy-tale crack fic. lyrstzha asked for another SG-1 fairytale ages ago, and I finally found a way to finish this. One line in this could frequently be found in Blackadder episodes.
Once upon a time, on a lonely planet in an isolated corner of the galaxy (our galaxy, thank you, not some other galaxy with a little girl name like Rainbowflower or Pegasus or Unicorn), there lived a girl pale of skin and dark of hair. Her eyes were bright, her lips were red, and if she looked at you in just the right light, at just the right angle, you might actually believe she was both fair and virtuous.
The girl lived in a flying fortress (currently grounded, because hell, everyone needs a little sunlight sometimes) with her stepmother, Nirrti. Nirrti fed and clothed her, and gave her lessons on important concepts and data, all referred to with acronyms or many syllable words, like DNA, or genetic recombination, or eyeliner.
Nirrti cared for the girl ('cared' in the loosest possible sense, anyway), because her mother had died in rather horrific, yet awfully mysterious, circumstances.
(At this point, you might be thinking that this doesn't sound like the Nirrti I've heard about. Nirrti, caring for a foundling? Out of the goodness of her apparent heart? It doesn't seem likely.
You'd be right. Nirrti was many things; nurturing was not one of them. The girl represented Nirrti's hope for an improved host for – well, we don't need to get into details. Let's just say that it wasn't what you would call a heartwarming situation.)
Together they lived more or less in harmony and contentment. Nirrti passed the time with research and a little torture (for kicks). Her young charge occupied herself with running the length and breadth of the fortress, learning to pocket small items without anyone noticing until they were long missing.
This state of affairs lasted for many years. But there came a fateful (and otherwise rather boring) day when Nirrti looked up from her machines and experiments and gazed upon her foster child. She saw she had grown; she was an adult now. "Step forward," Nirrti said, gesturing, "up onto this podium."
The girl did as she was told (which, believe me, was surprising. She probably thought there might be something of value to steal up there. She was wrong). Quickly, Nirrti turned on a machine, and the girl was suddenly surrounded by colours and words and pictures, all flowing around her.
It was magical.
But Nirrti didn't notice the beauty she had created with the careless flick of a few buttons. Instead, she frowned at the displays, reading, examining, rechecking. Finally, she said, "Step down," and her voice was cold.
She was not pleased.
When the girl left the room, Nirrti called her trusted aide, Martouf. He arrived quickly. "The girl is of no use to me. She is deficient."
"My lord?"
"She is not what I was hoping." Already, Nirrti was thinking about new experiments. "Also, she is far too attractive. As a host, that is acceptable. But she is not what I was looking for, and therefore cannot be allowed to live."
Martouf quelled the urge to roll his eyes. Nirrti was nothing if not vain. And evil. But also vain.
"Get rid of her. Now."
Martouf bowed. "Yes, my lord."
Now, if Martouf were a good aide, he would immediately see to it that the girl was killed. Martouf, however, wasn't all he appeared to be. We don't need to get into the details, but let's just say he wasn't to be trusted, and he wasn't really an aide.
(If you've ever met Martouf, you'd hardly be surprised. His gaze is honest, his cheeks are kissed with colour, and let's face it, he's a little too trusting. He's clearly an idealist – not precisely the type Nirrti attracts. Honestly, what the Tok'ra were thinking in sending him to be a spy, I have no idea.)
After his audience with Nirrti, Martouf went to find the young lady. It wasn't exactly an easy task, as she'd had many years to find hiding spots and quiet places to plot her games and play with her purloined toys. But Martouf had never been anything but persistent (and somewhat sexually repressed, but that's besides the point), and eventually he found her secreted away in an isolated section of the fortress.
She grinned at him when he walked through the door, her expression full of mischief. "Hi there." She was surrounded by various shining baubles and pieces of technology. Her hair was tied back tightly, and she was wearing one of Nirrti's old dresses – something from what Martouf remembered (not fondly) as the Black Leather Days.
"Hello," he replied, and came to sit beside her. "I have been ordered to get rid of you."
She laughed at him, because she'd never particularly found Martouf to be of very much interest. And he didn't have much in the way of sense of humour. Few people around here did.
But Martouf just stared at her until she stopped laughing. "Vala," he said, using her name carefully – few people had ever called her anything but 'girl' or 'you' – "this is unfortunately no laughing matter. Nirrti feels you are superfluous to her purposes. You are not what she hoped you would be. I am to take you away and dispose of you."
"Dispose!" She tossed her head, and yes, Martouf saw a little of Nirrti in her movements, in the set of her jaw. "I don't think so."
He nodded slightly. "I agree. It is both wasteful and cruel. But Nirrti will not allow you to leave here alive. We will have to plan." In reality, Martouf already had a plan. It had been available for some time now, a way for him to escape should his true identity be revealed. "I believe I know a safe place where we can go. At least, for some time. There are people we can trust."
*
This is the part of the story where we would normally discuss, in rather graphic detail, their escape from Nirrti's clutches. But really, is this an action movie? Do we need to know the minutia of the plans, the exact body count, or the damage done to the fortress? Do we need to know exactly what Vala wore, and what she brought with her, and the way she turned out to be a distressingly good shot? (Martouf had never had the opportunity to see her practice).
No. Suffice it to say that the body count was surprisingly high for the work of an unassuming spy and an untrained orphan girl. Woman. Person.
Suffice it to say that Vala wore more black leather, and Martouf barely batted an eye, even when she flaunted her ah, assets, rather brazenly (more Nirrti right there, Martouf thought) and called him 'sexy'.
Suffice it to say that the plan worked, and soon enough they were away and traveling to Martouf's contacts.
(And let's not even hint at the possibility that Vala and Martouf merely walked out of the fortress without even a hint of any trouble. That the guards simply nodded at them as they walked by. That Nirrti was so busy in her laboratory that she didn't even notice that Martouf was missing until close to eight days had passed. Because none of that would even remotely be close to the truth).
"So," Vala said, tossing her hair and giving Martouf a smile that, quite frankly, was a little over the top, "Where are we going?"
"I know people who might shelter you. They are. Ah. Miners."
Vala's smile dimmed slightly, and her, "Sounds like fun," wasn't exactly convincing.
Martouf didn't notice.
*
Before long, they arrived at a planet, and landed near a small camp with a rather makeshift series of small, functional buildings. People – all dressed in the same drab green and black – quickly came to greet them.
"Martouf," said a blonde woman, smiling happily, "it's great to see you!"
"Thank you, Doc," he replied, smiling in return. Privately, Vala thought his smile a little forced, but now didn't seem the time to mention it.
What? She had tact. Sometimes.
"Hey, Marty." The grey-haired man hardly seemed thrilled to see them. "What brings you this time?"
"Sir," the woman hissed at him, "Don't be such a Grump."
"Whatever, Carter. Martouf. Who's your friend?"
At this, Vala stepped forward, and straightened her shoulders. "I am Vala Mal Doran. Former charge of Nirrti's."
And before she could say much more, both the woman and the grey-haired man had drawn guns. Vala opened her mouth – because she really deserved better treatment than this, honestly – but Martouf shushed her.
"General O'Neill. Nirrti raised Vala from childhood, hoping that she would –"
At this point, Vala tuned out the rest of the explanation because 1) she knew the story and 2) two more men were walking towards the group. Two very interesting, if rather similar, men. She grinned. One of them grinned back, somewhat warily, but the other only had eyes for Martouf.
Vala was a smart girl, and I'm sure you won't be surprised to know that she wrote that one off right then and there, and turned the full wattage of her smile on the other one. "Hello there," she said, slowly, "nice gun."
He looked down at the gun in his hand, and yes. He was slightly flustered. "Ah. Thank you. And hello, um –"
"Vala." the General said. "Used to hang out with Nirrti, Daniel."
Daniel blinked at her. "Oh."
She winked back.
"That. Ah. That explains the clothes." And then he let out an explosive series of sneezes. He apologized abjectly, of course, muttering about allergies and pollens.
Vala shrugged it off. She was still pleased he'd noticed her clothes. "Do you like them?" She turned around slowly.
"They're interesting," Daniel replied, squinting.
"Yeah, yeah, Daniel. We get it. She's hot. She's wearing leather. She likes you. Now, can we get on with the actual work we're here to do?" The General rolled his eyes, and motioned to Carter to follow him back to one of the small buildings.
Vala didn't bother to watch them leave.
"Mitchell!" O'Neill yelled, after a few paces.
"Yes, sir?" The other soldier – because that's clearly what they were, Vala wasn't born yesterday, and she didn't believe they were miners – stopped looking at Martouf for a moment.
"Watch them!"
"No problem, sir!" He turned back to Martouf and asked, "So, Martouf. Long time, no see. How's it going with the Tok'ra, buddy? Everything jim-dandy? Guess you're done with that Nirrti gig, huh?"
Martouf smiled, and Vala was fairly sure it was the first time she'd seen him genuinely happy.
She was positive it was the first time she'd seen him swoon.
*
Later, she elbowed her way past Martouf and Mitchell – not yet naked, but she was sure it wouldn't be much longer before they were – and went to look for the so-called miners.
"Miners my ass," she muttered to herself, trudging along. If this was meant to be her prison, she'd be really very put out. It wasn't as though she'd done anything.
"Halt," she heard behind her, and she turned quickly, reaching for a gun that was no longer there. Mitchell had clearly 'liberated' it before he got googly-eyed at Martouf.
She found a very large man watching her, and she smiled automatically, really quite pleased. "Well hello to you too," she said, stepping forward.
He didn't even bat an eye. It was almost worse than Martouf.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, walking here and there, you know how it is. Stretching my legs." And she stretched her arms up a little, to emphasize this. The fact that it did amazing things for her cleavage was besides the point.
Not that he seemed to notice. Damn. "Are you – Jaffa?" Nirrti had had Jaffa, although they hadn't been this gorgeous.
"I was. Now I work with the Tau'ri, helping to free my people."
"How noble." she purred, and then frowned. "How is being here," she gestured around the rather grim and dirty camp, "freeing your people?"
Momentarily, the man looked annoyed. "There is a mine beyond the trees. We are providing security for naquadah mining operations."
"Ahh. Sounds fun."
"It is not."
Stepping closer, she hooked her arm around his. "Want to give me a tour, big guy?"
"I do not."
But she was walking forward, and he came with her. "What's your name, anyway?"
"Teal'c."
"Well, Teal'c," she said, already mentally calculating the probability of wooing him to her side, "I'm most pleased to meet you."
He frowned down at her. "Where is Colonel Mitchell?"
Grinning up at him, she said, "I don't think you want to know."
She was right. He really didn't want to know, although he had his suspicions. He'd long felt that Mitchell often formed inappropriate (if sometimes satisfying) fixations on those who were not of the Tau'ri.
It was Mitchell's way. And Teal'c was certainly not jealous.
*
As they walked, Vala managed to collect various souvenirs, including one zat gun, one round of bullets for a gun she didn't have, two rather attractive shirts, a shiny hair comb, a hat, Daniel's supply of allergy medication, Carter's data key, and O'Neill's collapsible fishing rod.
How she hid all of these items on her person – especially given how she tended to favour tight clothing – is really none of our business. It was all part of her air of mystery.
As they walked, Teal'c managed to liberate most of Vala's souvenirs, except for O'Neill's fishing rod, which he felt was superfluous to the mission. It also amused him to inform Vala that it was called a 'light saber' and was the most prized of all Tau'ri weapons.
*
This is the point of the story where technically, we should learn about Vala's new cozy domestic arrangements. We should be reading touching stories about how she came to be central to the lives of the Tau'ri soldiers. We should be tantalized by the meals that she created for them, ready to be consumed after a long, hard day of mine-related activities. Ideally, we would come to realise that O'Neill wasn't really best referred to as Grumpy, that Carter was more than just a Doc, that Daniel wasn't solely Sneezy, and that Teal'c enjoyed playing a good (understated) joke on the others.
Our eyes would light up (and our hearts would skip a beat) as we came to the passages describing Martouf's affection for Mitchell, and the way that Mitchell entertained Martouf with stories of flying and Earth and something called 'omelets', which Martouf simply could not picture, no matter how many times Mitchell described them (Martouf had never had much of an imagination, but we can't begrudge him that. His upbringing was stunted).
But is this a tale of love, and cooking, and character exploration? No, as Teal'c would say, it most certainly is not.
And if Vala was more of an annoyance than anything else, if Carter and Daniel and O'Neill ground their teeth, wondering what the hell they would do with her once the mining mission was complete (because they silently admitted that she was far too valuable to simply leave behind), and if Teal'c quietly stood in corners, trying not to laugh at all of them, well, we don't need to go into that.
(However, let me just leave you with this mental image: Martouf, sincerely trying to explain the understated beauty of Tok'ra bonding rituals to Mitchell, but becoming increasingly tongue-tied as Mitchell first undid Martouf's belt (elaborate), untied his shirt (overly layered), pulled off his boots (sensible and easy to remove), and then leaned forward to silence Martouf, while shoving his hands down Martouf's pants.
Martouf had never been more grateful for the Tau'ri lack of subtlety and propriety in his life).
*
It's tempting to leave the story here, to assume that Vala somehow worms her way in the hearts of the Tau'ri (not unlike heartworm in dogs, but let's not get into that), and is taken back to Earth, a valued ally with key information about Nirrti's dastardly ways.
But, of course, there must be more.
There always is.
Nirrti, when she finally noticed that Martouf was missing, began to put things together (she might have been mean and rather questionable in her dress sense, but Nirrti had always been very smart).
"Curse the Tok'ra!" she raged, when Martouf's true identity was finally confirmed. It took her a while, but eventually she tracked his escape.
She wasn't thrilled to find him with the Tau'ri. She was less thrilled to find Vala there as well.
Her anger, of course, called for a cunning plan, one that could not fail.
Thankfully, she knew Vala well.
*
"Baubles," the old crone said, as she approached the (shockingly unguarded) Tau'ri compound. "Shiny baubles, pretty baubles." Her voice was a ragged singsong, the words mixed up with hacking coughs. She was not, let me just clarify, a homey sight. But it was easy to tell, even though they were piled in an old basket, that her baubles were indeed shiny. And potentially precious.
Vala had spent too much time cooped up, bored, and frustrated with trying to get the 'light saber' working. Who could blame her for looking at those baubles like they were the answer to the universe's great mysteries? "Old woman! Please, come in. Would you like tea?"
"No, dearie," the old woman said, following Vala inside one of the buildings, and then slowly emptying her basket of trinkets onto a table.
It was just as well, since Vala 1) had no tea and 2) wasn't allowed to use the stove (that little fire incident had not yet been forgiven).
"Hmm," Vala said, picking through the pile. "These things look very expensive." She beamed at the (really, rather horrid) crone and nodded. "They would make lovely souvenirs."
The crone grinned, revealing broken teeth. "Yes, dearie."
Vala tried on this and that – a necklace, a bracelet, one of a hundred different rings. "So lovely," she muttered to herself, and then reluctantly returned each of the pieces. "I'm sorry, old woman, but I simply do not have the money for these. The people I live with keep me in abject poverty. It's really quite appalling." She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "I'm almost a slave, can you believe that? They even discussed locking me up in one of their cells!"
"Poor dearie," the crone said, patting Vala's hand.
Vala launched into her – rather modified, let's admit – tale of woe, gazing into the crone's eyes the entire time, and pocketing this trinket and that.
When the crone finally left, Vala was grinning.
So was the crone.
*
Well, what can we say? Vala, for all her cunning, was easily swayed by souvenirs.
Even poisoned ones.
Later, when Mitchell finally surfaced, he found Vala's apparently lifeless body lying in the middle of the compound.
"Well, darn!" he said, staring down at her. "This doesn't look good."
In fact, despite being apparently dead, Vala actually looked rather good. She'd managed to fall in a very attractive way, and somehow her skin had kept its rosy glow.
Some people have all the luck, don't they?
It wasn't long before Teal'c, Carter, Daniel and O'Neill returned to the compound. There, they found Martouf fussing over Vala's body (now neatly set out on a table in the medical building), and Mitchell providing (somewhat belated) security oversight.
"Huh," O'Neill said. "I guess that solves that problem."
Martouf frowned.
"It's too bad we didn't have time to ask her more about Nirrti's operation," Daniel said slowly.
Martouf scowled. He probably knew as much as Vala, but they never seemed to think to ask him.
"Her death is a tragedy," Teal'c said, slowly, and everyone assumed that he was being sarcastic. In fact he was not. He'd rather enjoyed the difficulties Vala had caused (except when they were aimed at him, but Vala had learned quickly). It had been amusing to see her play with the Tau'ri. Maybe he was working with them, but they could be most frustrating at times.
Martouf looked up from the device in his hand, and said, "In fact, she is not precisely dead."
"Really?" Carter asked, moving closer. "She looks dead."
"It is a simulated state."
Carter frowned. "How can that be?"
Martouf explained the technical details (which are superfluous to our purposes today). After a few minutes, Carter nodded. "That actually makes sense."
"I'm glad it did to you," O'Neill muttered.
Everyone ignored him.
*
Martouf worked all day and night, and in the morning, he came up with a solution to the problem.
Needless to say, no one was particularly pleased about the form of that solution.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," O'Neill said.
"I am not, General O'Neill," Martouf replied. "A piece of rather cheap jewelry triggered a stasis field around Vala after a period of contact with her skin. The design is rather ingenious. I suspect Nirrti."
(Truth be told, Martouf always suspected Nirrti. Even years after her inevitable death, Martouf would sometimes declare that schemes and traps could be attributed to Nirrti. Mitchell always smiled and humoured him.)
"Why wouldn't Nirrti just kill her?" Daniel pushed up his glasses as he asked the question.
"Nirrti's ways are most peculiar," Teal'c replied. Everyone had to admit that it was the truth.
"Whatever." O'Neill said, waving his hand. "Let's get back to this 'cure' Martouf has been so very kind to cook up."
"It will work," Martouf said. "Tau'ri DNA will serve to break the stasis field. It is a flaw in Nirrti's design."
"You saying we're caustic, buddy?" Mitchell slung his arm around Martouf's shoulder. "'Cause that's just hurtful."
"I would never –"
"Just kidding." Mitchell grinned, rubbed his hands together, and said, "Let's get on with it!" Leaning down, he kissed Vala's cheek. It felt like skin, not a stasis field.
"Very good, Colonel." Martouf smiled.
"Why's it got to be a kiss?" O'Neill asked. "Can't I just – poke her or something? With a stick that I've touched?"
"Your DNA needs to be mixed with traces of your saliva." Martouf motioned at Vala's body. "Please, General."
By now, O'Neill was beginning to suspect that Martouf was making this up. He and Mitchell had probably cooked up the scheme together. This was just one big laugh fest for them.
He'd never liked the Tok'ra. But what the hell. He bent and kissed Vala.
Nothing happened.
"Colonel Carter?" Martouf asked.
"Sure thing, Martouf," she said, leaning down, kissing Vala on the lips.
"Doctor Jackson? You are the last."
"What if it doesn't work?" Daniel looked doubtfully down at Vala's face, the curve of her cheek, the way her hair fell around her. "What then?"
"It will simply be a matter of repeating the process until a sufficient amount of DNA has been transferred."
"Oh, that's just great," O'Neill muttered, trying to ignore Mitchell's distressed murmur of "Ick, girls!"
Daniel sighed, not looking forward to listening to O'Neill bitch and moan if this didn't work. He closed his eyes, leaning closer and closer, until his mouth brushed Vala's. Just for good measure, he'd licked his lips before kissing her, and he made the kiss last.
He was just opening his eyes when Vala's head suddenly jerked forward. Hard.
"My nose!" Daniel yelled, as he fell back to the floor (it was a particularly dramatic and messy fall, his glasses flying to the side, clattering on the concrete. Someone stepped on them). Blood poured down his face. "I think it's broken!"
"That's what you get for kissing a girl without asking her first!" Vala retorted, pushing herself off the table. "The nerve of you people! That's it!" She turned, backing slowly from the room. "I'm leaving! I don't know why I stayed for so long!" (Yes she did – she'd been hoping to 'borrow' Martouf's ship, after filling it with some 'borrowed' naquadah. She'd just been waiting for the mining to be complete.)
And leave she did (taking three guns, two knives, a week's worth of rations, the 'light saber', two pairs of Carter's pants, a zat gun, and all of her purloined jewelry (the non-poison variety) with her. No one noticed her stealing, because they were all too busy either laughing at Daniel (Mitchell, although he kept it to himself), fussing over Daniel (Carter), frowning at Daniel (O'Neill), or secretly taping the entire ordeal (Teal'c).)
"Well," O'Neill said, much later, "I guess that's that. Let's go home, kids."
And they did, never to see Vala Mal Doran again.
(Hah! And if you believe that, I have some lovely real estate to sell you on a lively little planet called Sateda).
*
So ends our tale. As with many of Nirrti's schemes, the ending is rather anti-climatic. We can't really blame her – we all have our character flaws, after all.
And anyway, the entire debacle was a good confidence-booster for the Tau'ri. How proud they felt that, once again, they had foiled one of Nirrti's plans. It almost balanced out the frustration and annoyance brought about by Vala's mere proximity (although Carter is still annoyed about losing her pants, and Daniel still hasn't figured out where Teal'c has hidden that video tape).
The end.
