By: Lionchilde
CATEGORY: Angst, Humor, Romance
WARNINGS: References to serious car crash.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: This was written in response to the “Daniel has to teach Vala to drive” challenge by lifeofmatt. Not sure what happened. I made two attempts at a purely humorous, driving-centered story and it didn’t work. Maybe next time she’ll actually get a driving lesson… Setting here is about a year after my last D/V fic, Here and Now.
AUTHOR’S WEBSITE:
http://so-out-of-ideas.livejournal.com/
Headlights. Flashing headlights screamed past his eyes. That was all he saw. All he knew. And with each blast of someone’s high-beams in his face, he imagined that he felt the jolt of slamming brakes, felt her terror trying to rip its way out of his own throat. The car swerved hard into the hospital parking lot, and he grabbed the door handle.
Headlights became the blood-hued strobe of ambulance lights, and the scream in his throat became the shattering wail of the siren. His whole body went cold at the sight, though he tried to remind himself that it couldn’t have been Vala.
“Oh, God, Sam…” he tried to say, his mouth working without sound. Now the brakes did jam on—briefly, slowing the car as they slid under the emergency room awning.
“Go,” she told him. “I’ll park, just go.”
Daniel was already out of the still-rolling car, sliding through the half-open double doors, racing up the hall. Later, he would vaguely remember stopping at the desk, forcing her name past shaking lips. Now, there was only his back ramming up against the cold, impossibly smooth white wall outside the exam room. The stale antiseptic air and his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. He had to move. Had to go in…
“You’re a lucky woman, Mrs. Jackson,” declared the tired voice of an overworked ER doctor.
“Yes, I am,” Vala replied flippantly, and Daniel could already see the flirtatious little smile forming on her lips.
“I’m going to kill her,” he declared as Sam, Mitchell, and Teal’c jogged up. They eyed one another uncertainly, and Daniel pushed himself off the wall.
He almost melted when she sprang off the examining table at the sight of him. Whatever else, she was pale and shaken, and her eyes flooded with tears when he walked in. She ran to him before he could move, burying her face in his chest, and he stood for a moment, frozen with shock, before his own relief wound his arms tight around her. Part of him managed to retain his outrage, though, and he clung desperately to it as she began to apologize.
“Oh, Daniel, I’m so sorry, I didn’t make—”
“What the hell were you doing?” he interrupted, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her back to look at him. Her eyes widened, then narrowed with fury.
“What?” she demanded.
“I don’t believe you, I really don’t. I mean, this is just too much. You stole my car—and—and—and you could’ve been killed—”
“Stole?” she shot back. “Would you mind explaining how someone’s wife can steal his car out of their own driveway? With the keys her husband left sitting on the counter, no less? And, you know,” she added, pushing him away, “if you’d taught me to drive six months ago like you promised, this wouldn’t be happening, would it?”
Daniel’s hands balled up into impotent fists and he spun away, striding across the room. “No,” he shook his head, not turning. “I’m not going to let you play word games. You took the car. Not me. This isn’t my fault, Vala, I don’t care—”
“Obviously—”
“Excuse me?” he turned to face her again, eyebrows arching.
“I said obviously you don’t care,” Vala shouted back. “Oh…my wife could’ve been killed? Well, gee. Let’s not find out what happened. Let’s just turn into a giant buffoon and scream and yell at her in front of everyone—let’s not see if there might have possibly been a reason—”
“Oh, I’m sure you had a reason, Vala,” Daniel raked a hand through his hair. “You always have a reason! What you don’t have is—is—even the slightest sense of responsibility—or—or respect for anyone or anything but yourself! You—”
“Daniel,” Sam’s voice cut through his rage with cold command, followed a half second later by Mitchell, and then Teal’c.
“
“DanielJackson.”
His mouth snapped shut with a hard clack, and they stood glaring
at one another until Mitchell’s hand came down on Daniel’s shoulder. “C’mon,
Vala watched them go without a word, managed not to bite her lip until his back was turned, and then hurriedly went to gather her purse and the rest of her things from the chair beside the exam table. Sam looked on, her brow creased with compassion, and asked quietly, “You all right?”
“Never better,” Vala lied, shaking her head. She didn’t look up, though, and the purse slid from her hands. Lipstick, phone, perfume, scented body lotion, and a few things that Sam would rather not have seen came clattering out onto the chair before they started rolling down to the floor.
“I’ll get it,” Sam said, quickly moving to help. Tears came then, despite Vala’s best effort to fight them off. She felt herself beginning to shake again as echoes of her husband’s uncharacteristic cruelty flayed her battered self-esteem. Sam’s arm slipped comfortingly around her shoulders, and she stiffened, but a moment later, let herself be drawn into the unexpected hug.
* * * *
Daniel pushed the door shut hard behind him and tensed, his teeth clenching in anticipation of the continued argument. The slam echoed through the darkened house and then faded, bringing no response. No flicker of light from the upstairs hall, no familiar, accented voice, either angry or repentant, and he felt his stomach clench with dread.
“Vala, come on, not the silent treatment…” he called hopefully as he reached to turn on the lights. Still nothing, and the knot of dread grew colder with certainty. “Vala…? I really am sorry…” he went on, though he knew already he would get no answer.
With a heavy sigh, he trudged down off the foyer, dropping his jacket onto the table where the answering machine waited. The quietly blinking red light offered a measure of relief. A message—any message—meant he’d find her. If she hadn’t wanted him to, there would be nothing. No trace. And he’d never doubted for a moment that she had a way off earth without the Stargate or the SGC. Vala hated nothing more than being trapped…and while he hoped that someday she wouldn’t need an escape plan…
“Well, you didn’t do much to help in that department tonight, did you, Danny-boy?” he muttered to himself, closing his eyes as he pressed the button and waited for her voice.
What he heard, however, was not Vala’s voice, but a message from the publisher of the journal for which Vala had convinced him to write his new paper. The first one, in fact, that he’d written in several years. Her interest had surprised him, especially once he made it clear that there would be no monetary gain to be had from his scholarly work. She hadn’t cared—she really hadn’t cared about money, and continued to push him, reminding him of his own shelved dreams, insisting he could publish without compromising SGC security. Though she never said as much, he knew he’d hurt her with his suspicions…
And now he was so lost in self-recrimination that he nearly missed the import of the message. It seemed publication dates had been pushed up. SG-1 had been offworld, and Vala with them, so he hadn’t known. That had been the reason for her calls to both his cell and the base this afternoon. They were calls he hadn’t taken, though the messages had been flagged urgent, because he’d assumed that she’d been calling to complain about missing her manicure appointment again.
Her tearful, abortive apology echoed through his mind with new meaning and he closed his eyes again, shaking his head. “Didn’t make it,” he finished the sentence to himself, though his voice sounded strange—hoarse and alien to his own ears. She’d gotten it in her head to drive to Fedex and have the paper sent herself. That’s where she’d taken the car, not for the joy-ride he had accused her of in front of the team.
“Daniel, I’m so sorry, I didn’t make it.”
The repetition wasn’t out of his mouth a full second before he was sprinting to his office. As he’d expected, the door he usually kept locked had been flung open. The floor around his desk was scattered with loose notes and sheets from briefing reports, but he ignored them and hurried around to the locked drawer—or formerly locked drawer—on the left side. It too was open, hastily yanked almost all the way out of the desk, and inside it now, not the finished paper, but Vala’s scarf.
Daniel stared at it, swallowed hard, and collapsed into the chair at the desk. “You stupid son of a bitch,” he berated himself, and shook his head as he reached for the wisp of fabric. It slid sensuously between his fingers, evading him briefly before he managed to catch it.
Closing his hand around it, he lifted it to his lips and drew a breath. Faint perfume and Herbal Essence; vanilla lotion and the heady musk he knew only as Vala…
Vala. When he hadn’t taken her phone calls, she’d decided to go herself. Which of course meant breaking into his office, and somehow opening a locked desk with no more than a scarf. He had to smile at that, despite the tightening ache in his throat. Only Vala. By rights, she should have let the damned paper rot in the drawer.
His hand shot down at the thought, curling into a fist to slam the offending drawer back into place. It smashed inward, splintering in several places, and the ringing of the phone on the table punctuated the sound. Unconsciously, he dove for it, nearly dropping the receiver as he fumbled to release the scarf and hold the phone to his ear at the same time.
“Babe?” his voice cracked on the word.
“Hi, honey,” said the brightly sarcastic voice of Jack O’Neill.
“Jack,” he managed a weak laugh.
“You really screwed up this time, buddy,” Jack observed.
“Yep,” Daniel caught his upper lip between his teeth. Then he frowned thoughtfully. “Um…how do you know that?”
“Carter called me,” Jack replied nonchalantly.
“Why…?” Daniel wanted to know as he pulled his knee slowly up against his chest, curling his free arm around his leg.
“I’m supposed to tell you that she’s at Carter’s, Daniel,” Jack said gravely.
“What?” Daniel’s face tightened with pain and he pulled up the other leg, hunching over.
Jack sighed, saying nothing for a minute, and then went on, “I guess Vala’s gonna stay there for a while.”
“Wh—well,” he stammered, wetting his lips and swallowing convulsively. “What am I supposed to do, Jack?”
“Ah, geez, I don’t know,” Jack responded. “It’s usually not smart to ask the divorced guy for marriage advice, y’know?”
“C’mon, Jack,” he forced out.
“Just talk to her, Daniel,” Jack sighed. “Tell her how you feel…”
* * * *
Sam opened the door in a sleeveless white t-shirt and a pair of baggy pajama bottoms. Her eyebrow arched at the sight of him, but she silently pushed the door further open and moved aside to let him in. He ducked his head, clearing his throat as he walked inside.
“Thanks, Sam,” he offered.
“Yep,” she said, crisply, following him back to the couch, which Vala was approaching from the kitchen with a large bowl of popcorn. Daniel sighed inwardly. Of all times for Vala and Sam to bond… The two women had never really been close, thought they’d learned to get along well enough. It was the driving issue that had seemed to suddenly unite them. Sam asserted that Vala was entitled to that freedom, her habitual irresponsibility notwithstanding. Ideally, Daniel agreed…yes the thought of Vala behind the wheel of a car had always given him pause. Well, actually it had given him far more than “pause”…
Tonight, though, he could already see something cementing between the pair. Any other time, that would have made him glad. Sam Carter had been his teammate and a close friend for the better part of ten years. Of course he’d want Vala to enjoy a real friendship with her. But at his expense?
“Can we talk?” he asked softly, halting in front of Vala. She frowned, glanced down at the bowl of popcorn, and plopped onto the couch, hugging the bowl.
“I don’t…know…” she said, biting the long red fingernail of her index finger, then glanced questioningly toward Sam. “Sam, I’m not really in the mood for a chick flick tonight…”
“Wasn’t there a Star Trek marathon on tonight?” Sam asked with a thoughtful frown.
Daniel nodded, pursing his lips, “Ok…the silent treatment then.”
“Ooooh! Right!” Vala nodded, bouncing forward to grab the remote from the coffee table in front of her. “That sounds like fun!”
He sighed heavily, irritation warring with guilt, and studied them for a few minutes. Sam had moved over behind the couch and leaned her elbows on it, feigning interest in The Wrath of Khan while she and Vala began discussing the plausibility of the “Genesis Effect.” Rolling his eyes, Daniel forced himself to sink down on the cushion beside Vala.
For all her reaction, he might have been an extra throw pillow. No, he thought ironically. She’d be hugging a throw pillow…
“Vala, look,” he pleaded gently, leaning forward to rest his hand intimately on her knee. The muscles in her leg tensed under the caressing motion, and he felt her struggling not to respond. Slightly encouraged, he went on carefully, “I know what happened, and I’m sorry. I was wrong, ok? I made an awful mistake. I don’t—I don’t know what to do now except ask you to forgive me.”
She bit her lip and finally turned toward him, eyes glistening. He shifted slightly on the cushion to lean closer, resting his forehead against hers. “I should’ve checked the messages,” he admitted. “I didn’t know the dates had been pushed up…and then we got the phone call from the police…all I could think was getting there. It didn’t even enter my mind to listen to the voice mail then. I just had to get there…”
“So you could humiliate me?” her eyes suddenly sparked dangerously at the memory of what he’d said and done when he finally had gotten to her. She shoved him backward and sprang to her feet, still incongruously hugging the bowl of popcorn as she shouted, “You treat me like a child, Daniel!”
He stared up at her, eyes bulging, and shook his head in confused denial. “Vala, I—um…”
“Oh, well that’s a brilliant answer, Dr. Jackson!” Vala scoffed.
“Well, wha—whaddaya want?” he cried, snapping upright now and craning his neck to glare at her as his hands spread in a helpless gesture. “I said I was sorry, didn’t I?”
“Well, you’d think the man who speaks twenty-three languages could come up with something a little better!” Vala exclaimed mockingly. Daniel regarded her with a stupefied expression that came close to wresting a laugh from her, but she spun quickly, as if looking to Sam for agreement.
“You…want me to apologize in Goa’uld or something?” he asked, then gulped when she twisted back around to glare at him again.
“If you can’t figure out what I want from you, Daniel, I’m not going to tell you,” she said in a dangerously calm tone.
“Well, that’s…” he started as the popcorn bowl rose in her hands and flipped upside down over his head. He slowly closed his eyes as the fluffy, yellow-ish white kernels rained over him. “…helpful…”
Vala, by then, had already thrown the bowl down on the table and spun around, stomping off toward the bathroom. Daniel leaned forward again, planting his forehead in his palm, and watched her go with an exasperated shake of his head.
“I think you’d better leave, Daniel,” Sam said quietly.
His shoulders drooped at the comment, and he turned, looking up at her pleadingly. “Please, Sam, I…I just wanna don’t wanna leave it this way.”
She closed her eyes, giving a short nod and a sigh before she walked over to start picking up the popcorn.
Daniel walked down the hall to the bathroom, leaning quietly on the door for a second, then tapped it with his knuckles. “Babe…”
“What!” came the strident demand from the other side.
“Can you open the door so we can talk?” he asked softly.
“Talk!” she answered sharply.
“C’mon, Vala. Please,” he held his breath hopefully, listening for her movements inside, and slowly let it out again when the chain slid back. “Thank you,” he said with a smile as she leaned close to his face. He started to move inside with her, but her hand came up, flattening on his chest in a “stop” gesture.
“Daniel…” she bit her lip, her index finger then trailing up and around the buttons of his shirt.
“Whatsamatter, baby?” he whispered, reaching to clasp the hand in his.
She edged closer, turning so that her cheek barely missed his lips as she brought her mouth to his ear. “Go. Away.”
“Huh?” Daniel’s mouth hung open as she pulled away again. He started forward, hoping to make it through in time, but the door slammed in his face. “All right! Fine!” he yelled back. His palms pressed hard against the door, fingers widespread, then tightened into fists in frustration. “You wanna—you wanna be that way—then—then—then—fine!”
“Fine!” Vala shouted as he stepped back and turned to stomp up the hall. “I will!”
“Fine!”
A moment later the bathroom door ripped open behind him and, despite himself, he stopped at the end of the hall. “Daniel!” she called urgently.
He spun around, grabbing a double-handful of his own hair as he gritted, “What!” He could feel the veins in his neck standing out, knew his face had to be red with fury as she started toward him.
“Don’t leave!” Vala cried.
“Give me a reason not to,” he sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides with a slap.
“Because I forgot this!” she shot.
Daniel managed a half-step back as her foot snapped out, but the toe of her boot connected squarely with his gut and he doubled over. “Ow—” he broke off, coughing and struggling for air.
Sam rounded to corner just in time to see him fall, and the bathroom door slammed shut again. “Oh, boy…” she sighed. “You ok, Daniel?”
“Yep,” he managed, pushing himself back to his feet. He staggered slightly and threw out his hand to catch himself on the wall. “Never better.”
“Why did she kick you this time?” Sam asked.
“Oh, hey…” Daniel shrugged, forcing nonchalance. “You know…she’s…”
“…Vala?” Sam supplied when he trailed off.
“Pretty much, yeah,” Daniel agreed with a nod.
* * * *
“Psst.”
In the darkened bedroom, Sam held herself completely still, feigning sleep. When the sound didn’t repeat for several minutes, she began to relax. A small smile on her lips and she let herself drift toward sleep again.
“Psst. Sam!”
“What now, Vala?” she asked without opening her eyes. An hour ago, it had been Daniel’s t-shirt, which Vala apparently had lost the ability to sleep without wearing.
“I still can’t sleep,” Vala sighed petulantly. “Daniel always rubs my back!”
“Is that before or after you kick him goodnight?” Sam asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Hey,” Daniel asserted to the empty room as his fist came down in an agitated tapping rhythm on the mattress. “This is great. Got the whole bed to myself. Yep. The whole…really big…bed. No one stealing my covers. No one pushing her annoying little way onto my side. No back-rubs. No head on my chest… Ok. So let’s not think about the head on my chest or the back-rubs. I can even listen to music if I want…” he bolted upright, as if suddenly seized by a saving hand. “Music…”
Rolling to grab the remote control off the bedside table where Vala had left it, he flipped on the stereo and a moment later let out a loud groan. Keith Urban’s snappy, upbeat voice filled the room, declaring,
“…And maybe it’s a little too early
To know if this is gonna work
All I know is you’re sure looking
Good in my shirt
That’s right
Daniel tossed the remote over his shoulder and flopped back down on the bed in defeat. “Who the hell am I kidding?” he sighed as his fingers sought and found the edge of Vala’s pillow. He plucked it off the bed and rolled onto his side. Then, wrapping his arms possessively around it, he drew his knees up toward his chest. As the song wound it’s way through to the next chorus, his voice could be heard again, softly plaintive,
“…yeah, and all I know is you’re sure looking good…good in my shirt…that’s right…you look good in my shirt…”
* * * *
“Saaaaammmmmmmmmmmmmm…” Vala whined, forcing herself to keep her eyes straight ahead as Daniel walked into the commissary alone.
Sam’s deceptively strong arm hooked around hers and she grabbed the lunch trays, firmly steering Vala toward the table. “Just keep walking,” she whispered. “Don’t look, Vala!”
“Are you sure I’m doing the right thing?” Vala pleaded.
“Yes,” Sam promised, sitting the trays down with a clack for emphasis. She glanced over Vala’s shoulder towards Daniel and then met her gaze again. “You want the car, don’t you? Your own car…?”
Vala nodded, her face hardening for a moment. “You’re right. I know you’re right…but it’s just so hard when he’s all pouty…” she bit her lip.
“You just have to stick it out a little while more, Vala,” Sam encouraged. “Believe me, no one ever died of being pouty. Now come on, where’s that Vala Mal Doran edge?”
“I wish I knew!” Vala replied, pressing her hands to her forehead. “What’s wrong with me—” she broke off with a gasp, eyes widening, and utterly froze. “He’s coming, isn’t he?”
Across the commissary, the other two members of SG-1 were watching as Vala and Sam, followed by Daniel, came in to engage in the third afternoon of the junior-high-lunchroom saga. Mitchell stood to lose a sizable chunk of his paycheck in the pool going around the base if Daniel actually gave in and bought her the car. Teal’c, of course, knew better, but he still found the situation amusing.
“Y’think we should do something…?” Mitchell mused with a sigh. “I really hate to, but we gotta get this thing worked out before we go offworld Friday.”
“I believe it is often most unwise to interfere in marital disputes, Colonel Mitchell,” replied Teal’c mildly, his eyes moving slowly between Vala and the distant corner table where Daniel now sat pretending not to stare at her. “However, to anger Lt. Colonel Carter is always unwise…”
“Yeah, and ticking off Vala’s just plain insane,” Mitchell nodded reluctant agreement.
“Indeed,” Teal’c asserted.
“Well,
“I believe you are mistaken, Colonel Mitchell,” Teal’c replied.
“What!” Mitchell laughed. “He almost killed her himself…”
“I have fought beside DanielJackson for many years,” Teal’c
reminded him, which was as close as the
“Yeah, well…uh-oh…” Mitchell broke off as he saw Daniel rise from the table and grab the duffle-bad he’d carried in with him. He walked over to Vala and Sam with an air of grim determination.
Vala’s hands smacked down on the table as Daniel walked up. He paused, startled, and frowned from her to Sam and back again. “Um, hi…?”
“Hello,” Vala said frostily.
“I…brought you those things you asked for,” he said uncomfortably, setting the duffle down on the table beside her. “The black miniskirt…the other black miniskirt…the other black mini—”
“Okay, Daniel,” Vala interrupted. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he nodded, turning away again. He could feel her eyes following and stopped after a few steps. Then he turned slowly and walked back to her. She didn’t speak, but offered a tentative smile.
He cleared his throat, glanced down at the bag, and frowned again. “Your book’s in the side pocket. Put the little cap thing on your toothbrush for you, too…”
“Thanks,” Vala nodded. He didn’t move to go, and she cleared her throat expectantly.
“Those…uh…sandals that you never wear anyway?”
“Yes?”
“They’re in there. Because you asked.”
“Well, thank you, Daniel,” Vala forced a smile. “Was there…?”
“Yes,” he nodded before she finished the question.
“Yes? Yes, what?”
“Something else,” he cleared his throat again and looked down at the bag, suddenly nervous.
“Other than the blouses and my makeup?” Vala inquired.
“Open it,” he replied, waving his hand toward the bag. Vala frowned, shifting her head in an effort to meet his eyes, but he kept them firmly on the bag.
“Presents aren’t going to work you know,” she told him with a haughty sniff as she unzipped the bag to peer inside. Her mouth formed a small, nearly perfect “o”, for which Daniel felt an answering smile and a flush of warmth that flowed along his nerves and came to rest, glow-like, in his stomach. Her fingers pushed their way inside, describing an affectionate and possessive caress. “Oh, Daniel…Daniel Jackson, that is just…so…not fair!”
“Pick it up,” Daniel told her softly.
Vala pursed her lips, and her eyes twitched up to peer at his face again. “Why?” she demanded. “If you think this is going to make me come home, you’re wrong, Daniel…”
“I don’t…” he stopped, letting out a rueful breath. “I’m not going to say I don’t care if you come home. Of course I want you home; I miss you. Like crazy. But that’s not why I packed it.”
“Oh, really?” she asked skeptically. “Then why exactly is it so important that I take it out of the bag now, Daniel?”
“Vala, I’m not trying to manipulate you,” Daniel said with the slightest edge in his tone. “Now I guess…you can just believe that or not.”
She sighed in exasperation, but her fingers did tighten on the faded fabric and she lifted out the worn, once-black t-shirt. He bit his lip when her eyes lingered too long on the familiar hole in the sleeve. There was tenderness in the gaze now, though once or twice he’d seen her eyes drift there when she was contemplating whether a similar hole might look as good on the other shoulder. It didn’t help either that she knew he’d let her kiss it better the next time she shot him. Any other time, the memory of the events aboard Prometheus would’ve brought a secret smile to his lips…but now, he felt his brow crease anxiously.
Then the metallic glint caught her eye and she peered in again. Her eyes widened, and confusion briefly clouded her features before she thrust her hand back into the duffle to snatch the keys. “Daniel!” she sprang out of the chair, knocking him off balance as she flung her arms wildly around his neck. He reached back, catching himself awkwardly on the edge of a table behind him, but her lips had found him by then, and neither really noticed.
She pulled back far too quickly for his taste, and he leaned in again, but she deftly avoided his questioning lips and whispered close to his ear, “So, I get to drive home, right?”
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