Kubla Khan
By: shortstuff8379
CATEGORY: Drama, Episode Related
SEASON/SPOILERS: Season 10 “Unending”
WARNINGS: None
AUTHOR’S NOTES: The “Unending” plot bunnies are biting me hard, what can I say. The title of this is extremely random, by the way. Kubla Khan is a poem written by Samuel Coleridge, mostly thought up during an opium dream. For some reason, the imagery in the poetry screamed D/V to me. I was desperate for a title, and then I found the poem, and insanity happened. Here (http://www.sparknotes.com/poetry/coleridge/section5.rhtml) is a summary, and here (http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/stc/Coleridge/poems/Kubla_Khan.html) is the actual text of the poem. Knowing or understanding the poem is absolutely not necessary to read this story—it’s never mentioned or even alluded to. I was desperate for a title, and then I thought of this poem, and insanity happened. :D
AUTHOR’S WEBSITE:
http://shortstuff8379.livejournal.com/
“Oh, so what—we sleep together once, then what? We work together!” A disbelieving laugh sounded behind her. That, joined with the waves of indignation and acrimony crashing towards her, burned so hot she wondered if they could scorch. “And you know, even saying that part out loud sounds unbelievable.”
As Daniel hurled accusations and allegations at her, hurt warred with outrage, tears with anger.
“I mean, yes, yes, you've proven yourself to be…trustworthy on a professional level, and for that I am very proud of you, but on a personal level? Vala, come on, give me a break!”
Where was this tirade coming from? Had he been saving up these verbal bullets, waiting for her metaphorical armor to come down so he could strike?
“And this whole flirty sexual thing that you do, that's just your way of having a laugh at my expense. So I'm so sorry if I'm not more appreciative of that and I'm so sorry that you're bored. But don't you pretend it's anything else!”
As the final recrimination hit its mark, all hints of tears vanished, and anger reared up to take their place. Vala slowly stood, her back straight and her eyes blazing arctic fury as she turned to face him.
“You bastard.” She scoffed inwardly as he blinked at the biting tone of her voice. Had Daniel really believed she would just sit there and blithely accept his rantings?
No, she thought. He hadn’t reduced her to that— would never reduce her to that. Not even if they were trapped on this god-forsaken ship for a lifetime.
“Do you really think that little of me?” Vala took a step towards him, the heels of her boots clacking sharply in the otherwise silent room. “Is that all I am to you? An acquaintance? A mere colleague?” A discordant, bitter note sounded in her throat, too harsh to be called a laugh. “And even that title is given reluctantly, it seems. Silly me, I thought I’d done enough to prove myself to you.” She yanked her shirt on, viciously jerking the hem over her head and down to cover herself. She met his gaze, her brown eyes darkened with icy rage. “But it appears that I was mistaken.”
She turned and walked swiftly toward the door. When he called her name, she halted briefly, hand resting only for a moment on the cold metal handle before she wrenched the door open and disappeared.
She made it halfway to her quarters before he caught up with her.
The grip of his hand, the pull of his arm, had her whirling around and attempting to twist out of his hold.
“Don’t touch me,” she spat. His grip was like a band of iron around her upper arm; no matter how she tried, she couldn’t liberate herself. The first hints of fire flared into her eyes, melting the cold rage and replacing it with heated fury.
Her eyes narrowed when he didn’t release her. She forced some semblance of authority into her voice, forced the rage into a small ball in the pit of her stomach.
It didn’t make it any less potent.
“Let.
Reluctantly, Daniel slowly let go. As soon as she was freed, she took a step back, enlarging the space between them.
“You don’t get to hold me back, Daniel. You don’t get to yell at me, and expect me to simply take it like some submissive child.”
“Vala, if you’ll just let me explain—“
She cut him off. “No, Daniel. I don’t think I will. I don’t owe you that, the willingness to stay and listen to an explanation. I’ve given you enough.” The words were spilling out, almost beyond her control, a flood of pent-up emotion and resentments. She could almost see the words impact him, could almost pinpoint the instant they struck him like a blow. “I’ve given you everything. My trust, my respect, my friendship, my freedom. My affection, she almost added, but pushed the notion out of her mind almost before she could think it. Even if such a sentiment had once been true, it was no longer true, could no longer be true. Not after this.
Not after she’d heard what he truly thought of her.
“I’ve given you enough,” she repeated forcefully. “What have you given me, other than grudging toleration and the occasional kind word? You apparently don’t consider me a friend, or trust me, or even particularly like me. I’m nothing to you, other than an associate—or maybe annoyance is more accurate.” She laughed harshly. “I don’t know anymore.”
Not seeing (or choosing to ignore-- she didn't care to differentiate) the pain in his eyes, she turned, leaving him staring with a stunned expression on his face as she disappeared around the corner.
* * * *
Vala spent the rest of the evening in the Odyssey’s gym, beating the hell out of the punching bag Sam had created using the matter converter at Mitchell’s request.
By the time dinnertime arrived, the only thing she’d accomplished was bruising her knuckles; the anger was as fresh and potent as when she’d started. Her irritation only worsened when she arrived at the dining room to discover that all the seats were taken—except the one across Daniel. Vala half-considered turning around and leaving, hunger be damned, but the growling of her stomach insisted otherwise.
She studiously ignored Daniel for the entire length of the meal. He attempted to engage her in conversation, his voice tinged slightly with remorse, but she gave only abrupt, monosyllabic answers. She had no interest in alleviating his guilt, or whatever it was he was feeling.
She’s valued his emotions and opinions before, and look where it had gotten her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sam glancing at Daniel, confusion evident on her face. Daniel merely shook his head.
Vala ate as quickly as she could. The eight minutes it took to choke down her meal seemed unending.
Finally alone in the quiet of her room, Vala collapsed onto her bed, lying on her back and staring into the darkness of her quarters. Despite her best efforts, the anger was beginning to evaporate, and hurt was bubbling up to take its place.
She rolled onto her side, closing her eyes and hoping for the oblivion of sleep. When sleep refused to come after an hour of stillness and silence, she sighed and climbed out of bed.
She aimlessly wandered the halls of the Odyssey, eventually finding herself on the bridge. The blackness of space loomed before her, the endless landscape of too distant stars and planets taunting her from the confinement of the ship.
She’d forgotten what freedom felt like.
She’d meant what she said to Daniel- she had given up her freedom in exchange for a place on SG-1. She hadn’t minded, though, not really. The chance to have a place to belong, to have a family of sorts, had been an unexpected temptation she couldn’t force herself to resist.
Now, she regretted the sacrifice. Evidently, it had been worth nothing.
She stood for a while longer, contemplating the scene before her. The expanse of the universe in front of her made her feel small, insignificant—unbearably so.
When the feeling finally became too much, she turned, intent on returning to her room. The darkness there, at least, was intimately familiar.
As she moved, she saw him, leaning silently against the doorframe.
Her back instinctively straightened, her eyes widening imperceptibly in surprise before narrowing in suspicion. “What do you want, Daniel?”
Eyes on her, he took a slow step forward, then another when she didn’t back away.
“Just to talk. That’s it.” He raised a hand when she opened her mouth to refuse. “I know you don’t owe me anything.” Another step forward. “But I think I owe you this.” He was close enough now that she could see the plea in his eyes, the flash of regret. “Please,” he asked softly.
Though her instinct was to run, she nodded slowly, cursing herself as she did so.
“Okay.” He nodded in return, relief visible on his face. She could tell he’d expected either cold refusal, or heated argument.
She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of either.
She watched as he slowly gathered his thoughts, searching for words and phrases in the pattern of the floor and the stars glinting dully outside the ship— much as she had been doing earlier. She chose to ignore the similarity.
Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, he met her eyes and began to speak.
“Let me start, right off the bat, by saying that I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier.”
“Was it what you meant to say?” Her voice was quiet, unemotional.
Daniel gestured slightly, shrugging with his hands. Daniel spoke with his hands, she realized. No matter what the conversation, his hands were always moving, reaching, pointing, showing. They were more expressive then his words could ever be.
“Yes. And no. It is unbelievable that we work together, but only because I remember the way you were in the beginning. I never believed that you would be willing to settle down, to choose to stay with us instead of running away—I wanted to, but I couldn’t. When I first met you, you were a thief, a con artist, a liar. Now…” he stopped, a half-smile appearing on his face. “Now, I trust you with my life.”
A lump was slowly forming in her throat, but she forced her words past it. “Keep talking.” She wasn’t ready to forgive him. Not yet.
Daniel moved closer, stopping when he was directly in from of her. Echoing her earlier words, he said, “You’ve given us so much, Vala. Your trust, your friendship, your respect—and yes, in a way, your freedom.” He slowly raised a hand, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She fought between stepping closer to him and backing away from the tender gesture, finally settling on simply standing still. The lingering, persistent desire for his acceptance remained, no matter what she did to banish it. She’d told him once that she wouldn’t run. Maybe now was the time she could finally prove it to him—prove herself to him.
His hand slid down to rest under her chin, focusing her gaze on him. “Don’t ever think I don’t know that—that I don’t respect that.” His eyes were intensely blue, his voice achingly sincere. She felt the last pieces of her resistance begin to crumble. “You asked me before what I’ve given you,” he continued, “And it’s a valid question.” An affectionate smile slowly spread across his face. “You have so much more than you realize, Vala.”
The lump in her throat grew bigger. “Like what?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“You have my complete and utter respect. You have my trust, my admiration, my friendship.” The smile grew into a full-fledged grin. “You’ve held my curiosity hostage since I first met you on Prometheus.” His hand shifted again to cup her cheek. “It’s baffling. Every time I think I understand you, you go do something crazy and I discover a whole new side to you.” He moved forward slightly, until little more than an inch separated them. “And with each part of you I uncover, I find I love you even more.”
Vala’s eyes widened at the last admission. “You what?” After the earlier incident, she’d believed—truly believed—that he didn’t like her in the least, that he merely endured her presence as a member of his team. The admission that he loved her sent her mind spinning incomprehensibly. “But…but I thought…you said—“
“I was afraid, Vala.” At that confession, her eyebrows went up. That was a statement she’d never expected. “I was afraid that you were just toying with me.
Because you were desperate, because you were bored, because you just wanted sex—or all of the above. I didn’t want to risk getting hurt again.”
At those words, Vala’s final shreds of resistance faded away. She scoffed, the hint of fondness in the sound belying its harshness. “Do you really believe I could ever hurt you, Daniel? My Daniel?” As she said the words, she realized they were true. She could never hurt him—and he was hers. Had always been hers. “I was devastated, earlier. I thought I’d lost a person I considered my friend—my best friend.” Gathering her nerve, she said, almost inaudibly, “I thought I’d lost the person I had, somehow, despite everything, found myself in love with.”
Only a second passed after her confession before his lips found hers. Tender and passionate, desperate but gentle, soft yet firm, the kiss was full of contradictions. As they slowly separated, she thought it fitting, that their first real kiss be so conflicting, so defined by differences, yet so utterly right.
After all, so were they.
** The End **
Stories by Rating and Category
Copyright©2004-2011 Midnightstorms.net
All
Rights Reserved.