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New Fic: Father of Mine #8: The Good News and the Bad (SG-1/Buffy, PG-13)

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  • Danielle Ducrest
    THE GOOD NEWS AND THE BAD Part Eight of Father of Mine, a short time after the events of No Time For Primates. Additional Disclaimers: The Simpsons belong
    Message 1 of 3 , Sep 9 9:09 PM
      THE GOOD NEWS AND THE BAD

      Part Eight of 'Father of Mine,' a short time after the events of 'No
      Time For Primates.'

      Additional Disclaimers: The Simpsons belong to Matt Groening,
      Twentieth Century Fox and a bunch of other people. "I am not Yet
      Dead," written and composed by John Du Prez and Eric Idle, is a song
      from the musical Monty Python's Spamalot. If you're a fan of Monty
      Python, then you know that Spamalot is awesome, regardless of whether
      you've seen it or not, and you'd be right. Any copyright infringements
      were not intended. This song was used for entertainment purposes and
      to enlighten the ignorant masses to the brilliance that is Monty
      Python. The Simpsons references were also used for entertainment and
      not for profit.

      Spoilers: Additional spoilers are for a certain episode of The
      Simpsons. If you've seen it, you'll know which one I mean. If you
      haven't seen it, you wouldn't know which one I mean. They're not huge
      spoilers, honest, Scout's Honor *holds up three fingers.*

      Author's Note: Is anyone still reading this serial? Yeah? Yay! Geez,
      it's been a while, hasn't it? Don't despise me for taking so long to
      update, okay? I'm a former Girl Scout. If you've ever lived in the
      United States around February/March/April, I was one of thousands who
      sold you/tried to sell you delicious cookies. You can't possibly hate
      me…um…

      Author's Note #2: Why are you reading this? Go read the story! Go,
      now! Enjoy! Can you tell I have way too much fun writing Author's
      Notes?

      Summary: All is well at the mountain…until it stops being well and
      becomes the opposite, that special word that encompasses that
      what-the-crap-is-happening feeling.

      *****

      Alright. Worst-case scenario: the entire mountain was now a much
      shorter pile of rubble.

      No, scratch that. Worse-case scenario: the entire mountain was now a
      much shorter pile of rubble, and a Goa'uld ha'tak was seated on top of
      it.

      No, I'd got it. The entire mountain had been blown to smithereens, the
      space monkeys' ship was sitting on top of it, and a whole score of
      hairy little aliens were descending upon the population of Colorado
      Springs.

      None of these were, in fact, the case. I can't express how glad I am
      of that. The ha'tak would have been a nightmare, one that I was afraid
      that even the best contingency plans, laid down over eight years,
      wouldn't be enough to combat against. We'd had too many close calls
      with the Goa'uld to lower our guard. Even with the Prometheus
      constantly stationed in the solar system, there was always the chance
      that it wouldn't be enough. It almost hadn't been enough last spring,
      and I really didn't want to think about the events of last spring.

      The space monkeys attacking Colorado Springs would have been a bit much, too.

      Those were the various worst-case scenarios that I could imagine. I
      could also think of a number of
      not-quite-the-worst-but-pretty-close-to-it scenarios.

      I suppose now you're wondering which one came true. Well, let me give
      you an answer that's going to shock you.

      Nothing was wrong.

      There was a glitch in the phone lines.

      Yep, that's right. A glitch.

      Or something equally technical for which I really didn't care to hear
      the explanation but which Carter half-rattled off anyway.

      "And why exactly did I keep hearing songs about monkeys?" I asked.

      "I…don't know." Carter made a face. "Not yet."

      "Really?"

      "Yes, sir."

      The lack of a situation was a bit of a comedown. It was a welcome
      comedown, let me not be unclear on this point. However, considering I
      was running on adrenaline, I felt a teensy bit annoyed that I'd had to
      make a trip to the mountain instead of a trip to my nice, warm
      comfortable bed.

      I began to crash. If I didn't get any sleep soon, someone was going to die.

      Carter looked anxiously and apologetically up at me from her seat at a
      console. There was plenty of light to see by, but the gray paint on
      the walls gave the place a dreary look. This sensation was completely
      cancelled out by the view through the big glass window into the
      Embarkation Room. The Stargate caught the light of the overheads and
      reflected it, casting light into shadow, and boy am I tired if I'm
      thinking of poetic imagery at a time like this.

      "I'm sorry, sir, but it's going to take some time to sort out the glitch."

      "Fine." I sighed. "Work on it and then get some sleep. That goes for
      you, too, Danny."

      Daniel stood on the other side of Sam's chair with his head cradled in
      the palm of his hand. His head shot up and he blinked rapidly. "What?"

      I pointed a finger at him. "Get some sleep. Now." To Carter, I said,
      "Give me a report in the morning." I paused. "Later in the morning." I
      thought this over. "You know what, how about we make it this
      afternoon."

      "Yes, sir."

      I shuffled past her. I knew that the technician seated to Carter's
      left was tracking my progress to the door. The guard standing next to
      the wall tensed when he saw my grimace. Looked like I'd need to go see
      the doc. The painkillers I'd taken just weren't doing the trick. I'd
      worry about that when I woke up.

      I patted Daniel's shoulder on my way past, and he started again. He
      fell into step behind me.

      "Sir," Carter called.

      I paused, but I didn't feel like testing my pain threshold by turning
      around. "Yeah, Carter?"

      There was a pause. "Nothing, sir."

      Okay. Maybe she was about to ask about Cleveland, though who knew. I
      didn't want to talk about it here in the Control Room. I continued to
      shuffle and gritted my teeth as I descended the three steps into the
      corridor.

      Mad breakfast chefs, blue Jell-O showers and wacky phone connections;
      those were the highlights of life at the mountain in the past
      twenty-four hours. If only those I'd hadn't dealt with anything else
      in that time.

      I pushed Daniel in the direction of his on-base quarters. He didn't
      protest, though he did mumble a bit about a translation or whatnot.
      That was normal, so I ignored him. I waved off a number of questions
      after my health as I shuffled my way to my bunk. Once there, I
      promptly collapsed.

      Hulk Homer smashed his way through the solid wall of my office. "Homer
      mad! Homer smash! Homer want donuts!"

      She-Hulk, looking like an all-green version of Marge, appeared out of
      nowhere, carrying a crossbow in one hand and a sword in the other. She
      twirled and delivered a roundhouse kick to Hulk Homer's jaw. Hulk
      Homer fell with a crash to the carpeted floor. She-Marge threw the
      crossbow aside, straddled Hulk Homer and held the sword to his throat
      with a snarl.

      I leaned forward in my chair and peered at them over the edge of my
      desk. Huh. That was interesting. I wondered if they came in yellow,
      too.

      Xander Harris was perched on a corner of the desk. His eyes were
      pinned on the fight.

      "Bummer," he said.

      My eyes snapped open. The phone on the bedside table shrilled out an
      unasked for wake-up call. According to my watch, a little under an
      hour and a half had passed.

      I closed my eyes again. Visions of angry green Simpsons characters
      danced behind my eyelids. Hulk Homer sported a spinage-colored bruise
      around his left eye.

      The phone shrilled a second time. I patted the table, searching
      blindly for the phone. It had to be around here somewhere. I was
      determined to find it, preferably as quickly as possible, and hang up
      on whoever was calling. If it was urgent, they'd have to come
      knocking. I wasn't moving otherwise.

      I found the phone. Unfortunately, my search came to an end when my
      hand knocked into the cradle and sent cradle and phone tumbling to the
      ground.

      The noise of the crash as both objects hit the floor was drowned out
      by the music pouring out of the phone's tiny speaker.

      "/ I am not yet dead / I can dance and I can sing / I am not yet dead
      / I can do the Highland Fling / I am not yet dead / No need to go to
      bed / No need to call the doctor 'cause I'm not yet dead! /"

      I jumped, and then I let out a quickly stifled yelp of pain as my ribs
      lodged a formal protest. Ignoring them, I reached over the side of the
      bed for the phone.

      The back-up singers joined in. "/ He is not yet dead / That's what the
      geezer said / No, he's not yet dead / That man is off his head / He is
      not yet dead / So put him back in bed / Keep him off the cart because
      he's not yet- /"

      I replaced the phone in the cradle.

      Someone wasn't dead. Well, that was always good news, I supposed.

      I sat up slowly. I wasn't getting back to sleep now. The phone rang
      again. I ignored it.

      My eardrums didn't stay protected for long.

      Warning sirens boomed through the intercom. "General O'Neill to the
      Control Room!"

      I sighed even as I got up and made my way to the door and the hallway
      beyond it. "Now what?"

      I opened the door. I froze. I can't really say I felt surprised at
      what I saw just beyond my quarters. I was beyond feeling surprised by
      anything. Barney the Dinosaur could have walked in hand-in-hand with
      Apophis and a singing goat and I wouldn't have been surprised.

      There was only one thing to say in this situation. So I said it.

      "Oh. That's what."
    • WBH21C
      Great part! Bill =============================== The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist. ~Verbal Kint - The Usual
      Message 2 of 3 , Sep 10 4:01 AM
        Great part!
         
        Bill
         
         


         
         
         
        ===============================


        The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist.
        ~Verbal Kint - The Usual Suspects

      • broadsword_girl
        ... Thanks! Danielle
        Message 3 of 3 , Sep 10 9:43 AM
          --- In Xandergate@yahoogroups.com, WBH21C <wbh21c@...> wrote:
          >
          > Great part!
          >
          > Bill

          Thanks!

          Danielle
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