She Who Is Powerful -- Muses Behaving Badly
by Shannon

E-MAIL: sdtirisheyes@yahoo.com
STATUS: Incomplete
CATEGORY: D/J, Challenge fic (Tok'ra Queen from Dan/Jan Archive), Crossover (Highlander, SG1, and a few others)
RATING: NC-17 eventually
SPOILERS: Nope
SEASON/SEQUEL: Future
SUMMARY: When muses run amuck, chaos ensues. Oh, and never trust Maybourne when he says something's harmless.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This piece of fanfiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. In other words, I only own the muses. Everybody else is owned by someone else. Dammit.
CONTENT WARNING: This will contain (in later parts) sex and body paint and various other things. However, so far, no sex. It is coming. I promise.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: My muses all ran away, so I'm ultimately responsible for this bit of insanity. If anyone should find my muse, please send her home. And if you should find her wrapped around a studly immortal formerly known as Death, please send him home too. BTW, the title refers to the translation of the name "Sekhmet"--literally, "She Who Is Powerful." Don't worry, it'll make more sense as the story goes on.
DEDICATION: Gotta dedicate this to all of the great authors on the list and to Pam V., my fabulous beta (yup, dear, that's what you are) who's put up with this coming in dribs and drabs for weeks now. The gal has the virtue of patience in droves. And all of the great fic you ladies write is keeping me sane while I study logic.

---

"Think anyone saw us?"

The man crouched beside the petite strawberry blonde lifted an eyebrow and smirked at her. "What, Sekhmet, you frightened of your author?"

The woman dropped to the ground gracefully, her lion's tail curling into her lap, and pouted. "I am not afraid of a little fan fiction author, Methos. And I'll remind you that you ran from her as well, my dear Death. Do you really think that our Shannon will forgive you for running any quicker than she will me?"

The lanky immortal grinned impishly and shrugged, dropping to a sprawl on the cement beside his fellow muse. "You're her SG1 muse, my dear. I just happen to be the studly immortal that inspires her lusty Immortal stories." For a long moment he studied the fidgeting Egyptian goddess of divine retribution. "Of course, my dear," he murmurred, hazel eyes narrowing, "that doesn't explain why you dragged me to Cheyenne Mountain. Do you not think our patroness will look for us here?"

Sekhmet shook her head decisively, reddish blonde curls bouncing, then risked a second look around. "No. She's gone to look for me in Cleveland."

Methos was strangely silent, his eyes widening incredulously.

Sekhmet smiled weakly at her fellow muse. "A very long story, Methos."

Methos shook his head, trying to clear the questions that sprang into his very old mind. "And Cheyenne Mountain? Home of the SGC? I thought you were running from your duties as a muse!"

Sekhmet grinned as she slowly got to her feet. "That is what Shannon thinks, Methos. No, we are here to fix her fic. A mission of mercy, you might say. Right now our poor author is stuck without even the merest glimmer of hope for any of her stories. Lord above, dearest, she's practically posted a bounty on my head!"

Methos glared up at the curvaceous woman from his not-too-comfortable seat on the ground. "We're here to fix her fic? That's your solution for her writer's block?" He stretched out his hand for her to take, his expression one of impatience.

Sekhmet easily hauled the tall man to his feet and stretched on her tiptoes to kiss the Immortal. "And that's just the beginning," she whispered to him. "Not only are we going to fix her fic, we're going to play matchmaker and have a little fun for ourselves."

Methos groaned. He was stuck. A beautiful muse and a mission. Might as well accept it. Shaking his head, he risked a glance around him at the cars in the parking lot. "So, my Goddess, what is your plan?"

Sekhmet grinned and grabbed the tall man's hand, tugging him towards the imposing guards at the entrance of the SGC. "We have to get inside."

Methos frowned. "Um, Sekhmet? I don't relish the idea of being shot trying to enter a very secure government facility." He would survive it, he was sure. Or, rather, rise from the dead. But he was tired of trying to explain the bullet holes in his favorite overcoat to his tailor. Besides, he really wasn't sure what would happen to his fellow muse. Wait, when had started caring about anyone other than himself? Something to ponder later, he decided.

Sekhmet stopped in her tracks and turned to face her fellow muse, a look of disbelief on her face. "Methos, don't be dense. One of the reasons that I'm Shannon's SG-1 muse is that I'm a goddess. As in divine." When it was obvious that Methos wasn't getting it, she blew out an exasperated breath. "Meaning super powers." At the lifted eyebrow, she arched one of her own. "They can't see us unless I allow it." She shrugged and started forward again, once again pulling a reluctant Methos towards the mountain. "Now, we have a few people to track down. The general, of course...I can't believe that fic is giving her fits. Then Janet and Daniel. And Sam and..."

"Jack, right?"

Sekhmet glanced over her shoulder at the Immortal, who shrugged.

"Hey, you talk in your sleep."

Sekhmet blushed and continued on.

Score one for the Really Old Guy, thought Methos. Closing the distance with Sekhmet, he allowed himself to look around. "So, how do we get in, oh Invisible One?"

Sekhmet scowled at him and shook her head. "We follow someone. Now shut up and pretend that you're not here. Oh, and hold onto me--otherwise you'll pop out of the invisibility."

That gave Methos a moment's pause. "You mean I have to hold onto you the entire time that we're here?"

Sekhmet sighed again. This was getting old. "No, you fool. We just have to be careful. We can't very well do muse business if we're invisible all the time. Now, come on." She started to drag the old man again towards the gate. "I see someone heading for the guard. This is our chance."

Methos shrugged. "If I die, I'll kill you Sekhmet," he mumbled.

Sekhmet shot his a flirtatious look. "I look forward to it. Now, let's invade the SGC."

Ten minutes later, the elevator containing one Air Force lieutenant and two muses was stopping at one of the SGC's subterranean levels. A look of abject worship graced the goddess's face, her apparent target not the oblivious lieutenant. But, since it was "quiet time," Methos couldn't exactly ask his fellow muse why she was staring at him like she was a cat and he'd just invented catnip. Then again, he thought ruefully, maybe the comparison wasn't that far off. All it took was one glance down at her leonine tail to see it twitching maniacally.

The elevator doors slid open and the three occupants stepped off. And into the SGC. Methos swallowed and glanced at Sekhmet, whose look had suddenly shifted to determined. But, again, he couldn't ask her why she was looking that way. Sometimes he really wished that he'd killed Cassandra just so he could hear other people's thoughts. Bad thought, he decided quickly, stepping closer to the still single-minded catwoman. He really didn't want to know what Sekhmet was thinking. He'd never
sleep again.

Sekhmet pointed down the hallway, guiding the taller man past closed doors along a twisting maze of hallways. Finally, the muses halted in front of an oddly deserted infirmary.

"Sekhmet?" whispered the rather ancient muse, suddenly nervous.

"Uh-hum?" responded the petite blonde, her attention riveted on a distant supply closet.

"What are we doing here?"

Sekhmet's eyes skittered up from the doorknob to meet Methos's. "We're breaking and entering, dearest. Now be a darling and reach into my bag for that silly jar." She had started moving forward, very aware that an empty infirmary was a rare thing and their time was definitely limited.

"Um, Sekhmet?"

The strawberry blonde glanced over her shoulder at Methos, a grin touching her lips. "Yes, Methos?"

"This is a canopic jar. As in an Egyptian canopic jar."

Methos was right. The jar appeared to be Egyptian and appeared to be a canopic jar that would ordinarily have been found in a tomb's funeral goods. "You're right. Now bring it here."

Methos started forward, then frowned, his skin paling. "You're not going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?" His voice was barely above a whisper as he neared the muse.

Sekhmet grinned and took the jar from Methos. Opening the supply closet, she laid the jar onto a pile of linens and carefully shut the door. "Now, Methos, don't worry. Maybourne--"

"Maybourne!"

""Shush. Yes, Maybourne, Methos. He swore to me that the jar is completely safe. It'll just help things along in this musty old place."

Methos decided that since discretion was definitely the better part of valor, he would just shut his mouth about the entire situation. Maybe there was a nice fic author who wouldn't mind hiding him from his own author. It was definitely a thought. "Well, Sekhmet, I won't have to kill you. Shannon'll do it for me."

Sekhmet finished closing the door and turned to face Methos, taking hold of his arm as they faded from view. "Don't fret so, Methos. Nothing is going to go wrong--I promise." Pulling her fellow muse from the infiirmary, she headed back toward the elevator. "Now, you mentioned Vegas?"

***************

Chapter One

***************

To achieve great things we must live as though we were never going to die.

--Marquis de Vauvenargues ( 1715-47)



If Janet Frasier had to describe the past few days with one word, it would be "odd." SG-1, bless them, had returned from a mission through the 'Gate two days ago unharmed, unscathed, unbruised, and generally in good spirits. Daniel hadn't even stubbed his toe. During their post-mission checkups, Jack hadn't even grumbled once.

Now Janet was beginning to wonder if her friends had been replaced by pod people. On a positive note, they couldn't have been replaced by those aliens that used holographic technology--that wincingly effective tone that blared every time someone came through the 'Gate safeguarded the SGC from that threat, at least. Which was a small comfort when she was sure that her friends were not acting like themselves.

It was that thought that occupied her as she went about the mind-numbingly-ordinary routine of organizing the infirmary. She could have left it to one of the orderlies or nurses, but it was oddly comforting in the predawn hours of a long night shift to re-stock the bandages, sutures, and other materiel (otherwise known as implements of pain and torture by Colonel O'Neill) that was vital to a well-run infirmary. Besides, it gave her a break from the mountains of paperwork that always threatened to overwhelm her desk.

A quick glance at the clock on the opposite wall told her that her all-night shift had now turned into a mid-morning shift. And still there were no major catastrophes, apparently. At least her nurses were getting some well-deserved rest after what the Marines had put them through. Alcohol poisoning was bad enough, but couple that with a strange toxin that also had LSD-like effects and the Marines almost put SG-1 to shame for being able to drive the medical staff crazy. Now the Marines were on stand down, with a few days of medical leave for each of the recently half-crazed Jarheads. With SG-1 not in harm's way and the Marines banished from the SGC for several days, the base had been surprisingly quiet.

However, the SGC never stayed that way for long. And, soon, those beds she'd stripped would each be holding some errant Airman or Marine. Or, God forbid, a recently-resurrected archaeologist.

Which meant that she needed to remake those beds.

Janet dropped the less than pristine sheets she’d stripped from the infirmary beds into the laundry hamper in the corner and headed for the linen cupboard, her mind going over her seemingly unending list of things she still had to do. After she finally left the base, she would be heading home for a quick catnap--then back to write up the reports on SG-3’s escapades with SG-8’s medical staff. Somehow, she was sure, there was some karmic or cosmic joke that explained the last 42 hours during which the Marines were out of control.

Thoughts of paperwork immediately brought her back to the topic of the unmade beds. Stifling a yawn, she reached for the handle of the linen cupboard door, momentarily surprised that the door stuck. Straightening her shoulders, she pulled a little harder on the door and it sprang open.

The jar tumbling towards her surprised her far more.

Cursing softly, she tried to catch the jar that someone had left on the linens. Fumbling with less-than-coordinated movements, thanks in large part to sleep deprivation, she felt the ceramic jar slip through her fingers. The sound of pottery splintering on the ground at her feet loosed another round of rather colorful metaphors from the petite doctor.

“Great,” she muttered, crouching in front of the jagged pottery shards and staring at it.

Odd, she thought, there’s something familiar about the jar. Exhaustion refused to clear from her brain and Janet gave up trying to remember where she had seen a similar jar. Then, she noticed something lying amid the debris. She leaned closer, her fingers moving carefully over the ruins of the jar. There, under a larger piece of heavily decorated ceramic, was a familiar shape.

“Dammit,” she breathed. Now she knew where she’d seen a similar jar. The Osiris Jar. Sarah. The jar provided some sort of stasis--that much she was sure of. Only...this Goa’uld looked dead. Didn’t it? Violating Jack O’Neill’s rule of “don’t look with your hands,” SGC’s CMO reached out and touched the Goa’uld corpse.

Only it wasn’t a corpse.

Janet’s last thought was that she was in very deep trouble.

~~~~~~~

Daniel glared at the paper airplane that had landed on the floor behind his desk. Not because it was a paper airplane, per se, was he glaring at the glider. No, he was glaring at it because in its winging its way past him, the glider's wing had sliced open his forehead. Which explained why he currently had a papercut on his forehead and why his best friend was laughing his head off.

All in all, not a good start to a Monday morning, Daniel decided as he pushed himself out of his chair and pressed his fingers to his forehead.

"You should let ole Doc Frasier take a look at that, Danny-boy."

Daniel glared at Jack as he took his fingers away from the cut and saw the blood. "And I'll tell Janet precisely how I ended up with such an odd wound," he replied, an evil glint in his blue eyes.

Jack had the good sense to look nervous. Janet Frasier was not known for having a sense of humor concerning the injuries of a certain archaeologist. Besides, she seemed to enjoy using needles on a certain colonel. "Now, now, Daniel, there's no need to tell the Doc how you got it."

Daniel sighed and returned his fingers to the cut, applying pressure. He was fairly certain that Janet was going to give him a lecture on how many germs he was introducing into the narrow, deep wound on his forehead, but right now he was damned if he cared. His forehead hurt, it was Jack's fault, and only Janet could make him feel better. "Whatever, Jack. I'm going to go find Janet and have her put a Band-Aid on my forehead."

Jack watched his best friend stomp out of his office and felt a grin tugging at his lips. Janet, indeed. He had some conversing to do with a certain major, he decided as he left Daniel's office, whistling "Waltzing Mathilda" off-key.

~~~~~~~

The infirmary was deserted. At first Daniel didn't think it odd. After all, with most of the medical staff nursing sprains, hickeys, or migraines, courtesy of the Marines of SG-3, it wasn't so odd that Janet would have sent her staff away to rest and recuperate. But Janet wasn't anywhere to be found in the infirmary. And that,
Daniel decided, was odd.

The blood had stopped seeping from the cut on his forehead, and Daniel glanced in a mirror as he passed. Not too gory, he thought as he paused to rake a hand through his short hair. Aside from the thin line of crusty blood at the site of the wound, he looked relatively...alive, he decided quickly. Too much thought and he'd high-tail it out of the infirmary to go on the hunt for a Band-Aid elsewhere.

"Janet?" he called, looking more closely at the infirmary. The beds were stripped and now lay bare of the pristine sheets he'd come to expect in the infirmary. On the other side of the infirmary Daniel spotted an open cupboard door. Odd, he thought, striding towards the door. Janet was practically compulsive about cleaning up after herself, which included closing doors once she'd finished with whatever lay on other side of said doors. Reaching out for the door handle, he heard something crunch under the sole of his combat boot.

Daniel glanced down at the floor, his blue eyes widening at the shattered pot shards that lay on the infirmary floor. "That's odd," he murmured to himself as he crouched beside the linen cupboard, his fingers moving deftly over the thin ceramic bits. Intricately drawn Egyptian images covered the pieces that he picked up and began fitting together.

Rocking back on his heels, his blue eyes narrowed as he deciphered the hieroglyphics. It was a quotation from the Egyptian Book of the Dead from the Chapter of Opening the Mouth:

"I am the goddess Sekhmet, and I take my seat upon the place by the side of Amt-ur the great wind of heaven."*

It took a moment for the words to sink into Daniel's weary brain. "Uh-oh," he muttered.

Grabbing a pillowcase from within the linen cupboard, he carefully gathered the pot shards and set them on the snowy linen. When the pieces were collected, he picked up the makeshift bundle and headed out of the infirmary, his destination clear.

Sam's lab.

Daniel ignored the curious looks he received as he hurried down the hallway, his focus entirely on reaching Sam and Jack before something bad happened to Janet. After all, whenever the world was on the brink of destruction, either Sam or Janet could figure out a way to fix it. As long as the other half of the dynamic duo was alright, nothing bad would happen to Janet.

He hoped.

~~~~~~~

Jack braced his arms against the wall, his body pressing Sam's body to the white-washed wall of her lab. His groan was swallowed by her hungry kiss as they each battled for dominance. It was a battle as old as time, and one that they'd finally given into after General Hammond had arranged a special dispensation for two of the most vital members of the SGC to finally be allowed to explore their feelings for one another. That was the "politically correct" version, as Sam would call it. Right now, all they were exploring was the tensile strength of the plasterboard walls and whether the universe would be kind enough to the oft-star-crossed couple to allow them enough time to actually finish what they had started. Their odds of success had increased infinitely since the video feed from the security cameras had been looped to show a much more sedate scene, thanks to Sam`s prescient hacking.

Sam arched against Jack as he quickened his pace, her body tightening around his as she started to climax. "Jack," she breathed, her nails scraping against the back of his neck as her legs tightened around his hips.

Jack, praying that his knees would not decide to fail him now, changed his thrusts minutely and felt the woman he loved shatter in his arms. His ardent kiss captured her scream of release, and only moments later he found his own.

Sam slowly lowered her legs to the ground, not at all surprised that they were quite shaky. "Not bad for an old man," she murmured softly as she pulled Jack down for another kiss.

“Old?" whispered Jack, one brow arching rakishly. He pressed Sam back against the wall again, his lips moving to the sensitive skin just below her right ear. "Too old to..." he trailed off to whisper in Sam's ear. Even though the two were alone in Sam's lab, she blushed furiously.

"Jack," she scolded, disengaging herself quickly from O'Neill's luxuriant embrace and beginning to hunt for her clothes in the midst of the chaos they had wrought. "I don't even think that is theoretically possible." Pulling on her underwear and trousers, she glanced over at the gloriously naked man lounging against her wall.

"Really? Wanna prove it to me?" Jack O'Neill looked...happy. A glitter was in his brown eyes and his lips were more likely to be turned up than down in recent days.

"Jack."

Jack O'Neill sighed and pushed off from the wall to start his own hunt for his clothes. Soon they were both dressed in their rumpled fatigues. Jack leaned against one of the counters in Sam's lab, eying his 2IC as she expertly adjusted a minute wire a fraction of a millimeter. Watching Sam work never failed to intrigue Jack, though he sometimes zoned when she started talking astrophysics. After all, he was only human. But he wasn't about to tell her that--it might mean not hearing her voice as she droned on about some anomaly or solar flare or particle acceleration that happened to have caught her interest. Just because he sometimes lacked interest in her topic did not mean that he couldn't appreciate her delivery.

"Jack, you can here to talk to me about Daniel?" Sam had moved back to the computer that she had abandoned upon Jack's arrival and their rather steamy interlude. Having her superior officer commandeer that particular spot of counter in her lab meant that she kept brushing past him as she worked. Not that she intended to have him move. The contact between them, minute as it was, was delicious, even after their much more intimate contact.

Jack nodded and grinned. The smile took about ten years off his face. He needs to smile more, Sam decided as she tried to stifle a matching smile.

"Yeah, Sam. You know what's going on between Doc Frasier and Danny-boy?"

That got Sam's attention. "Nothing's going on between Janet and Daniel, Jack. Why?"

Jack shrugged impishly and pushed off from the counter. "Nothing. Just that Daniel called her Janet. Thought it might be important."

Sam's blue eyes narrowed. Jack was not telling her something. Which meant that he had a plan. Which also meant that she had to warn Janet.

Jack seemed to sense her intention and stepped closer to Sam, his brown eyes determined. "Now, Sam." He was now effectively blocking her path to the door, his body crowding her back against the counter.

Sam met his brown-eyed gaze with an equally determined one. "Colonel, you can't play matchmaker between Janet and Daniel," she warned, her voice dropping to a whisper. She silently cursed herself for the husky tone that seemed to creep into her voice. "Sir, they're grownups."

Jack nodded, his brown eyes darkening. "Noticed that." He stepped a shade closer to her, his hands bracing against the counter to either side of her body. "Also noticed that you've gone back to calling me `Sir` or 'Colonel'."

Sam's blue eyes widened. Damn. "Um, Jack..." The rules had changed, that much was certain, Sam decided.
Jack's smile widened. "That`s more like it. Just keep calling me Jack, Sam," he whispered as his lips moved to within a fraction of the lips he had claimed not that much earlier. "Here, let me remind you why..."

The pounding on the door of the lab earned a frustrated groan from both Sam and Jack. A reprise of former events would have to wait. "Who could that be?" Sam muttered, clicking a few keys on the keyboard to reestablish the feed from the video camera before brushing past Jack on her way to the door.

Daniel stood in the doorway, the pillowcase held carefully in front of him. "Sam! Good, you're here. Is Jack here?"

Jack, who had been staring at the space that Sam had formerly been occupying, turned and waved half-heartedly at the harried archaeologist. "Yeah, Daniel, I'm here. Whatcha need?"

Daniel shook his head and stepped into the lab, careful not to rattle the pottery shards in the makeshift sling. "Actually," he began as he set his bundle on a miraculously clear spot on the counter, "I need you both." He looked up from the shards to spot the looks flashing between Jack and Sam. For a moment, he wondered what he might have been interrupting with his sudden arrival, then decided that ignorance was bliss.

It took Daniel clearing his throat for the mildly distracted Air Force personnel to turn their attentions fully to Daniel. Sam, a light blush creeping across her cheeks, smiled apologetically. "So, Daniel, what do you need?" She perched on one of the lab stools, the heel of her combat boot hooked on the metal rung.

Daniel frowned, catching his bottom lip with his teeth. "I found this in the infirmary." He glanced up from the pottery to meet Jack's gaze. "Janet's gone."

Jack's mouth quirked a fraction. "Well, that explains why there's no Band-Aid on your forehead. But what do you mean that Doc Frasier is gone?"

Sam glanced between the two men for a moment, then focused her attention on Daniel. "Band-Aid? Daniel, how did you get that cut on your forehead?"

Daniel shrugged. "That would be Jack's fault, Sam. He
launched a death glider--"

Jack glared at his best friend. "It was a paper airplane, Daniel," corrected a slightly miffed Jack.

Sam shook her head and pulled open a drawer under the counter, her fingers disappearing into the chaos of the drawer to reemerge with a handful of Band-Aids. She motioned Daniel forward while shooting Jack a reproachful look and settling the archaeologist on a chair. "Okay, Daniel, so what do you mean that Janet is gone?" She asked as she opened a Band-Aid and pressed the bandage to Daniel's forehead.

Jack muffled a chuckle as he spotted what was decorating the Band-Aid now fixed to his friend's forehead.

Elmo.

Sam shrugged at the look Jack shot her and leaned back against the counter to listen to Daniel. Let Jack wonder why she had Sesame Street Band-Aids in her desk. After all, a woman had to have her secrets.

Daniel had, however, fallen silent. The silence didn't last long. "Thanks, Sam. For the Band-Aid." He paused for a moment, as if he were deciding whether or not to continue. "When I went to the infirmary to find Janet, Jack, there was no one there."

"Maybe she just went to check on the Marines," offered Jack. He was going to enjoy reminding the Marines of their out-of-control behavior. Payback was heavenly.

Daniel shook his head and stood up from the stool. Moving to the pillowcase he had set on the counter, he pulled out the fragments he had managed to hastily reassemble. "I don't think so."

Sam cocked her head to one side. "What's that, Daniel?" Her blue eyes narrowed. "It almost looks like..."

Daniel nodded, "The Osiris and Isis Jars. I know." He stared down at the pottery pieces again. "I found it on the floor in front of the linen cupboard in the infirmary. It looked like Janet was restocking the infirmary." He glanced to Sam, who nodded, confirming his conclusions. "I think she got...infected."

Jack swore softly. Trust Daniel to phrase Janet's getting taken over by a damned Goa'uld in a relatively diplomatic manner. "Damned snakes. Well, she's gotta be somewhere on base, Daniel."

Daniel shook his head. "Her SUV is gone, Jack. She's left the base. And she's been taken over by a Goa'uld." He sounded so defeated; first Sha'are, then Sarah, and now Janet. Yet another woman he couldn't protect.

Sam walked to Daniel and laid a hand on his shoulder, her fingers squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry, Daniel, we'll find her." She motioned for Jack to accompany her, but stopped Daniel when he made to follow them. "No, Daniel, you need to stay here."

"But, Sam!"

Sam shook her head. "Uh-uh. We need to know who or what we're dealing with, Daniel."

Jack nodded and motioned to the pot shards. "We need to know which Goa'uld has Janet and you need to get in touch with the Tok'ra. They can take it out of her once we find Janet. Besides, if she comes back to the SGC, you can stall her." The twinkle was back in Jack's eyes as he gave Daniel a reassuring smile. "We'll call you when we find her."

Daniel nodded sadly, picking up the pillowcase with its precious cargo and heading back towards his own office. He had work to do and he just had to trust that Jack and Sam could find Janet.

Before it was too late.

~~~~~~~

Janet pulled her SUV to a stop in front of her house and sat staring at the pretty farmhouse for a moment. Or, rather, the Goa'uld that currently inhabited the petite form of Doctor Janet Frasier sat staring at the farmhouse.

I'm home, thought Janet. The ride home from Cheyenne Mountain had been...interesting, to say the least. The Goa'uld that had possession of her body had shifted to the background during the drive, though Janet could tell that the symbiote was very taken with the concept of a manual transmission. But, now, they were at the home that she and Cassie shared. And Janet felt herself being guided by the force within her.

Five minutes later, she was in her bedroom, a suitcase lying on her bed and clothes thrown haphazardly into the sturdy Samsonite shell.

Where are we going? she thought as she packed.

~Someplace safe~, came the reply from the symbiote.

I don't even know your name, pouted Janet as she closed the suitcase and hefted it from the bedspread.

The symbiote seemed to sigh and consider Janet's complaint. ~If I tell you my name, will you accept this situation until I can find a willing host?~

Janet nodded, even though she was nodding to herself.

~Sekhmet. As you are known as Janet Frasier, physician to Stargate Command, so was I once known as the goddess Sekhmet. I am daughter to Ra, sister to Hathor, and I will not allow myself to fall into their hands once more.~

Janet sat down on the edge of the bed, stunned. She was host to the sister of Hathor? The bitch who seduced Daniel and locked up the female population of the SGC so that she could try for world domination? Not to mention the daughter of Ra, the evil Goa'uld who nearly killed Colonel O'Neill, Daniel, and the rest of the soldiers sent during the first Stargate mission. Gee, I can really pick `em, Janet decided angrily.

~I understand your anger, Janet. I will not be with you for
long.~

Janet felt the sarcasm welling up. Could I get that in writing? she wondered.

~Hieroglyphics, Sanskrit, Greek, Assyrian, Babylonian or Minoan...take your pick.~

Janet felt a bubble of laughter building at the symbiote's off-handed promise. Her laughter died as she heard the front door opening downstairs.

"Mom, I'm home!"

Oddly, Janet and Sekhmet had the same reaction.

“Shit."

Janet rubbed her temples with her fingertips, wondering why Mondays could never be normal.

"Mom?" Cassie called again.

~Your daughter is unlikely to merely vanish, Janet. Make some excuse so that she will not be suspicious. And do not let her see your luggage.~

Janet broke herself from her reverie and shot a quick glance over her shoulder at the suitcase. She had to intercept Cassie before the teenager saw the suitcase and deduced that something was up. The symbiote--Sekhmet--was right on that subject. Standing, she brushed her hands over the trouser legs of uniform and decided that she looked presentable enough to lie to her daughter.

"Mom?" A note of panic had crept into the teenager's voice. Janet could hear the quickening of her daughter's footfalls up the stairs.

Janet pasted a smile on her face and stepped out into the corridor, nearly colliding with her daughter. "Cassie! How was school?" she asked brightly, brushing past her daughter.

Cassie arched an eyebrow, glanced at the slightly ajar bedroom door, and shrugged, following her mother back downstairs. "Same old, same old, Mom. I got an A on that American History test...hey, Mom?"

Janet glanced back at her daughter as they entered the kitchen. "Yes, Cassie?"

Cassie set her backpack on the kitchen counter and perched on a kitchen stool. "Why didn't you answer when I called before?" Her head was cocked to one side as she considered her mother.

Janet opened the refridgerator door and peered inside. "What would you like for dinner?" she asked cheerfully. Why was it so hard to be normal with her daughter. Oh, right, she had a snake in her head.

"Mom, it's three o'clock in the afternoon. Isn't it a bit early for us to be thinking about dinner?"

~Stay calm, Janet. Act natural.~

Janet winced.

"Are you feeling alright, Mom?"

"Fine."

Cassie nodded slowly. It had been a long time since she'd had the feeling that was creeping through her veins, but it was not a feeling to be quickly forgotten. She'd had it when Nirrti had tried to turn her into the "perfect" host. She'd had it when Sam was taken over by Jolinar. And now that sensation of sick knowledge was creeping through her around her mom.

Sam, she thought. She had to call Sam. Her adoptive aunt would know what to do now that Janet had been taken over by a Goa`uld. "Mom, I gotta go and call Brenda," she announced, sliding off the stool and starting for the living room.

Janet nodded at her daughter. "Sure, Cassie."

~I don't think so, child.~ Brown eyes glowed golden as the petite doctor suddenly raced after the teenager. Sekhmet found Cassie in the living room, the phone receiver in hand.

No, thought Janet frantically. This thing inside of her couldn't hurt her daughter!

But she was too late. Sekhmet had already extended her hand to touch Cassie's shoulder and the teenager whirled about, sudden fear dawning in her eyes. "Mom?" she asked weakly before she crumpled to the floor unconscious.

The phone receiver lay on the floor beside the stricken teenager, its steady beeping the only sound in the deathly still living room.

~~~~~~~

"The phone isn't working, Jack."

Jack quickly glanced over at a pale Sam, who was staring at the cell phone in her hand. "Sam, I'm sure that everything's all right. And we'll be at Janet's in two minutes." Even as he reassured his lover, he had to fight the fear that welled within him. "Everything will be okay."

Sam looked up, meeting Jack's brown eyes for the first time since they'd climbed into his truck. "Jack, what if Cassie confronts Janet?"

Jack stepped on the accelerator a little harder, his silence his only answer.

~~~~~~~

Cassie slowly regained consciousness, at once aware that she was no longer lying on the living room floor. In fact, she was now stretched out on the couch in the living room. Lifting her head from the cushions, she wondered at the achiness that seemed to engulf her entire body. It felt like she was recovering from the tail-end of a very bad flu.

Of course, a very bad flu would explain why she had passed out. Heck, she was shivering even as she felt heat coursing through her bloodstream.

But passing out due to the flu would not explain the fact that her mom's eyes had glowed and that she had sensed a Goa'uld within her mother. Blinking, she threw her jean-clad legs over the edge of the couch and instantly wished that she'd stayed where she had been. Her stomach would certainly have been a heck of a lot happier with her. But she had to call Sam.

The phone still lay undisturbed on the floor about four feet from her perch on the couch. The receiver was off the main body of the phone, but the phone itself seemed otherwise unharmed.

Lowering herself to the floor, Cassie slowly crawled towards the phone, fighting the bone-deep weariness that threatened to pull her towards oblivion. After all, it would be so easy to just lie down and rest for a few moments. Instead of giving in to that tempting voice within, Cassie kept moving forward until she reached the phone's receiver and picked up the cool plastic device. Moments later, the annoyingly upbeat woman announcing that she had to "Hang up and please dial your number again," was replaced by a dial tone. She dialed the number from memory as her eyes drifted shut.

Sam picked up on the first ring.

"Cassie?" came the worried voice of her surrogate aunt.

"Sam," whispered Cassie, her throat raw from disuse. She felt like she'd been asleep for days. Or, maybe, like she should sleep for days. "Mom's been..."

"Taken over by a Goa'uld--we know, Cassie. Are you alright?"

Cassie shook her head, then remembered that Sam couldn't see her. "Mom touched me...knocked me out...don't feel very well..."

The phone dropped from her fingers as Cassie decided that the carpeted floor was, in fact, very comfortable. Definitely the perfect place to take a nap.

~~~~~~~

Sam stared at the phone in her hands and then at Jack, who was just turning his truck into Janet's driveway. "I think she passed out, Jack," she whispered, as she slowly closed her phone and straightened her shoulders. "She said that Janet had touched her."

Jack nodded and pulled the truck to a halt a few yards from the front door. "Let's go in and get her, Sam." He quickly climbed out of the truck, his face set with grim determination. "And be careful--Doc may still be in there."

Sam nodded, following Jack up the porch steps to the front door. The door, ominously, stood ajar. Reaching out, Jack pushed the door fully open and stepped into the quiet house. The afternoon light was the only illumination in the living room--no other light had been turned on.

"Jack."

Jack turned from his cursory inspection of the kitchen to see Sam kneeling beside Cassandra's inert form. Sam had two fingers pressed to Cassie's throat, checking her pulse, as she quickly dialed a number on the phone.

"General Hammond, we're bringing Cassie to the Mountain. You need to have Doctor Warner standing by. We'll explain everything when we get there." Sam quickly disconnected the phone and swept her blue eyes over her "niece." "Jack, she's running a high fever." Sam lifted her blue eyes to meet Jack's brown ones.

Jack nodded and crouched beside Cassie, his hands finding secure purchase on the listless body. Moments later, Cassie was in his arms and all three were headed for his truck. He watched Sam open the passenger door and climb in, careful to fasten her seatbelt before she turned to face Jack. Jack carefully handed Cassie to Sam before closing the passenger door and hurrying to the driver's side.

As he climbed into the cab of his truck, he turned to face Sam, who was cradling Cassie's head against her shoulder. "Don't worry, Sam, Doc Warner'll fix her up just fine."

Neither of them said what they really thought: Doctor Warner was fine, but it was Janet that specialized in infectious diseases. And with Cassie sick, they needed Janet.

~~~~~~~

Daniel rubbed at his tired eyes before turning his attention back to the research he`d been doing on the goddess Sekhmet. That is, if the thing inside Janet was Sekhmet. So far, his request for help from the Tok'ra had fallen on deaf ears. Though Jacob Carter had promised that he would find out what the Tok'ra knew about Sekhmet. But considering what Daniel already knew, he was almost afraid of
what they would tell him.

That had been an hour ago. Just another hour since the goddess of plague had taken over his friend.

In that time, Sam and Jack had come back from Janet's house. There, they had found an unconscious and feverish Cassie lying on the floor. On Cassie's arrival at the mountain, Doctor Warner had promptly placed her in isolation, started a battery of tests on the sick teenager, and subjected Sam and Jack to a course of inoculations for everything from smallpox to the flu. Then, their arms and buttocks far sorer than they were when they arrived, Sam and Jack had promptly disappeared back to Colorado Springs to find the AWOL Chief Medical Officer.

Which left Daniel to "hold down the fort," as it were. So, instead of staring hopelessly at his dancing Egyptians, he was seated beside an unconscious Cassie, praying to a God he wasn't sure he still believed in to help the young woman wake up.

~~~~~~

George Hammond leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee, silently wondering how SG-1 would fix this very fine mess. So far, Jack and Sam hadn't checked in with the SGC--which could mean that they'd found nothing or that they'd found Doctor Frasier and been sickened by the possessed woman.

“It'll be fine, General. I promise you."

Hammond slanted a glance at the man standing in his doorway. "That a message from the Almighty?" he quipped, arching an eyebrow at the newly assigned base chaplain. Considering how close to death so many of his people came and how many deaths truly
occurred among his subordinates, he'd always considered it odd that there had never been a chaplain assigned to the SGC. A fact he'd recently changed.

Father Michael Sullivan, U.S. Air Force Captain, shrugged and stepped into the base commander's office. "I wouldn't presume to speak for the Almighty, sir. She might think it presumptuous."

Hammond grinned and leaned back in his chair. When he'd arranged for a chaplain, he hadn't expected to end up with a somewhat maverick Jesuit under his command. Then again, who else but an unconventional priest would agree to be assigned to the SGC? "Ah, so
God is a woman?"

Sullivan shrugged again as he sat down across from the general. "After spending a few months here, I figure it's a good thing to change from the expected."

Hammond nodded.

"They certainly didn't talk about rampaging goddesses in seminary," muttered the priest as he sipped his coffee.

A small smile slowly slipped from the general's face. "How is she?" He didn't have to specify whom he was speaking of--they both knew implicitly.

"Cassandra's slipped into a coma. Doctor Warner doesn't know what's wrong with her besides the fact that she is fighting some unknown virus." The priest raised tired hazel eyes to meet the general's gaze. "Unless Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter can find Doctor Frasier, I'm not sure that Cassandra will survive."

Hammond shook his head and stood. "And how's Doctor Jackson handling this?"

The sharply bitter laughter from the priest forced the general to turn around. "Oh, you mean my sparring partner when it comes to theology?" Sullivan shook his head. "He's ripping himself to shreds for not being able to protect Doctor Frasier and Cassandra." He harrumphed and took another sip of coffee. "As if he could. I think someone needs to talk to him."

"I see. Well, why don't you try and talk some sense into him?"

The priest unfolded his lanky frame from the chair and started toward the door before stopping and glancing over his shoulder at his commanding officer. "And if words don't work, do I have your permission to beat some sense into him?"

Hammond chuckled softly. "Without Doctor Frasier around to patch him back up, I don't think that would be a good idea, Father."

~~~~~~

Sullivan stood in the doorway of the infirmary, barely registering the nurses and technicians bustling around the daughter of their CMO. Instead, his hazel eyes were riveted on the slouched figure seated at Cassie's bedside. Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, the chaplain strode into the lion's den, two cups of coffee in hand.

"Daniel?"

Daniel raised bleary blue eyes at the sound of the chaplain's voice and offered a tired, crooked smile to the man handing him a steaming cup of coffee. "She hasn't woken up, Father."

The priest nodded and lowered himself into the chair beside the exhausted archaeologist before sipping his own coffee. Had it really been only an hour since Cassie had been brought unconscious to the base? wondered the chaplain. He ran one hand through his close-cropped hair and peered closer at the archaeologist. "That was what Doctor Warner told me, Daniel. How are you holding up?"

Daniel shot the priest a quizzical look. "I'm not the one who's sick, Father."

Sullivan shook his head. "No, Daniel, but you care about Cassandra. And Doctor Frasier."

Daniel stared down at his hands in his lap and took a deep breath. "I should have known," he whispered.

Sullivan raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. "What should you have known, son? That someone was going to leave a dangerous artifact for Doctor Frasier to find? That a Goa'uld would take over Doctor Frasier? That Cassandra would get sick again?"

Daniel frowned and lifted his gaze to meet the chaplain's. "Yes."

Sullivan crossed his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing as he gazed at the younger man. "Really? Are you a god?"

"No."

"Really? Then how, in God's name, do you think that you should be all-knowing?"

Daniel rocketed to his feet, blue eyes fixed on the still figure in the bed as he shoved his fingers through his short hair. "Because, Father," he bit out, "whenever I care for someone, they end up getting hurt." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and stared at the toes of his boots.

Sullivan gazed up at the young man who, according to all of his friends, had changed so much since coming back on board with the SGC. Gone was the gangly and naive Doctor Jackson who'd first argued for the need to balance the scientific and cultural with the military aspects of the SGC. Oh, Daniel still believed in those things--of that, Sullivan had no doubt. But the haunted young man who stood before him now seemed a pale ghost of what he had been before Cassandra fell ill. "Love is a risk, Daniel. But it is the best risk any man can take. Never give up on love because you're afraid you`ll hurt someone by loving them." Sullivan stood, and rested a strong hand on Daniel's shoulder. "You'll hurt Cassandra and her mother more by never giving them your love."

"This from a priest?"

Sullivan shrugged good-naturedly. He had noticed that Daniel hadn't told him he was wrong. "I wasn't born a priest, Daniel. And love's about more than just sex--it's about being there for someone else through the good and the bad. But, sometimes, you need to tell someone that you love them."

Daniel swallowed and glanced at Cassie, nodding. What if he never got a chance to tell Janet and Cassie how much he cared about them? "Yes, Father," he whispered roughly.

Sullivan smiled slightly and let his hand drop to his side. "Now, why don't I look after Cassie for you and you..."

The alarm klaxons that warned of incoming Gate travelers interrupted his suggestion. Sullivan watched as Daniel frowned. None of the teams off-world were due back anytime soon. Now what was happening? Sullivan wondered.

"Doctor Jackson to the Gateroom," came the thundering voice of General Hammond.

Daniel watched as the priest rose to his feet. "I have to--"

"Go. I heard." Sullivan offered a cockeyed grin. "I'll keep watch. If anything changes, you'll be the first to hear, Daniel."

Daniel nodded and raced out of the infirmary. This better be the Tok'ra, he thought, and they better have good news.

Behind him, Sullivan sat down in the chair that Daniel had abandoned, his warm hand closing over Cassie's still one. "Don't worry, Cassandra. Daniel and your Mom will fix everything," he murmured before leaning back in his chair. Pulling open a nearby drawer, he tugged a chubby paperback from its depths and opened it carefully, a look of sheer pleasure spreading over his tired features. "Now, where did we leave off last? Ah, yes-- `A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value'..." Sullivan glanced up from his reading of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to smile at the comatose girl. If nothing else, the girl was guaranteed to have interesting dreams with what he was reading her, he decided.

~~~~~~

Jack turned off the ignition and shot a skeptical look at Sam. "Okay, remind me again why Doc would come here, Sam." All in all, he probably had a right to be skeptical, decided Sam. In the three hours since they'd taken Cassie to the Mountain, they'd searched without success every place in Colorado Springs that Sam could remember Janet speaking of.

Well, every place but one.

Which was why they were now parked in front of a park. The actual park was screened from the road and the parking lot by a thick stand of trees, but Sam knew the basic layout from Janet's descriptions over coffee. Beyond the trees was a grassy field that was perfect for softball, a swingset, a slide, jungle gym, seesaws, and assorted park equipment. And just beyond the play area was a pond. Janet had once said wistfully that she wished she had time to feed the ducks.

It was a long shot, but it was the last place that Sam could think of.

"Jack, we have to try to find her."

Jack nodded. "Well, I'm not getting any younger, Sam. Let's get this over with." With those words, he climbed out of the cab of his truck, careful to pull the `Zat from under the front seat before he closed the truck door.

"We don't need that," argued Sam as they passed through the trees.

Jack arched an eyebrow. "Um, Sam, did you get a good look at Cassie? Doc or no Doc, I'm not letting her hurt you too." He did tuck the `Zat into the pocket of his jacket, though, his face still grim with determination.

How sweet, thought Sam. He's willing to kill my best friend to save my life. It's almost--twisted. "Just let me try to talk her down before you do anything drastic."

Jack nodded again. "Sure, Sam. Just remember that it's not Doc talking, it's the snake."

Sam didn't say anything--in part because she'd just spotted Janet. Her best friend was sitting on the bank of the pond. "Um, Jack, she's got a gun."

Jack nodded, carefully pulling the 'Zat from his pocket. "I see it. Distract her, Sam."

Sam nodded and slowly started towards her friend. "Janet."

Janet looked up at the sound of Sam's voice, her fingers tightening on the butt of the gun. "Sam. Go away." Tears had tracked their way down her face, leaving lines of mascara on her cheeks. All in all, she looked like hell.

Sam shook her head. "You know that I can't do that, Janet."

"I killed Cassie." The words were sharp, blunt, painful. Janet winced even as she spoke them. "This thing inside me won't let me stop it, Sam. It keeps telling me that what happened to Cassie wasn`t my fault." The bitterness tingeing Janet's words tightened Sam's chest and Sam suddenly was thanking whatever god was on duty for small blessings. "Sam, it's so strong."

Sam crouched in front of her best friend, her fingers closing over Janet's gun. "Janet, you didn't kill Cassie. The thing inside you is responsible for what's happening to Cassie. Janet, Cassie's sick, not dead." She waited for her words to sink in as she carefully tugged the gun from her friend's hands.

"She's not dead?" her words were filled with disbelief and hope.

Sam shook her head again, her eyes flickering to catch Jack's. "No, Janet. She`s still very much alive. But she needs you."

Unfortunately, Sekhmet caught the motion. {{Betrayer}}, came the throaty growl of the symbiote as Sekhmet launched herself towards Sam. The `Zat blast caught her in the nick of time and she tumbled onto Sam, golden eyes fading to brown.

"Well, that was fun," muttered Sam.

Jack glanced at Sam, who had quickly rolled out from beneath her best friend. "You okay?"

Sam nodded, shaken. Janet had lost control at that last moment and the thing inside Janet would have killed her. Not a pleasant thought, Sam decided. "Sure. We need to call Hammond and let him know we need a team to transport her."

Jack already had his phone out and had hit one of the memory keys. "Already on it. Hey, General, we found her. We're at--" he shot a quizzical glance at Sam.

"Coldwater Park," supplied Sam from her crouch beside Janet.

Jack repeated Sam's words and listened. Moments later, he was lifting the petite doctor over his shoulder and marching back to his truck. "We're not waiting for a team, Sam. Cassie's in a coma and Doc's gonna fix her." There was steel behind his words and Sam quickly climbed into the truck, the handing in of Janet eerily reminiscent of the handling of Cassie only hours before.

“Jack, what if she can't fix Cassie?" Sam whispered.

Jack glanced at his lover over the unconscious doctor's head as he started the truck. "Then we may have a bigger problem. If Janet's willing to kill herself because she `thinks' she killed Cassie, then how's she gonna live with herself if she does?"

The rest of the drive back to Cheyenne Mountain was in silence.

~~~~~~

Daniel stood beside General Hammond, eyes fixed on the event horizon. The Tok'ra had sent their I.D. through, warning the SGC that there would be four inbound travelers. Jacob Carter was one of the travelers, as was Anise, the Tok'ra archaeologist. The other two travelers were unknown quantities, as far as the SGC was concerned. All that their allies would say was that the two other travelers were very high ranking Tok'ra.

Jacob Carter was the first to step through the `Gate and he hurried down the ramp to shake Hammond's hand. "I hear that you have a problem, George."

Hammond offered a tight grin and nodded. "What am I in for here, Jacob?"

Carter was about to say something when Anise, and two men stepped through the event horizon onto the ramp, the wormhole closing behind them. "General Hammond, you already know Anise. May I introduce you to Ptah and Nefertem?" offered Jacob, pointing to the men in turn.

Daniel's eyes widened. "Ptah and Nefertem?" he queried, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Okay, he thought quickly, Ptah was the creator god of ancient Egypt and Nefertem was the patron god of perfume. Could this Monday get any odder? The men nodded in response to their names being mentioned and Daniel felt the beginnings of a migraine. Wasn't it bad enough that Egyptian mythology came true on a regular basis--couldn't it leave his little corner of the world alone for even a little while? "Ah."

Hammond glanced from an obviously pained Daniel to Ptah and Nefertem to Jacob Carter. "Would someone please explain what is going on here?" he demanded.

Anise stepped forward, a look of triumph on her attractive features as she introduced the oldest man first, then each man in turn. "This is Sekhmet's husband, Ptah, and this is one of her sons, General Hammond. The Tok'ra would greatly appreciate your assistance in recovering our Queen."

Hammond shot a look at Daniel, who had decided that a bottle of something strong was in his future. Once he'd finished that bottle, Daniel decided, he'd stuff Anise's snaky butt into the bottle and throw it into an open wormhole. There was a smile on Daniel's face by the time he looked at Anise again.

{Where is our mother?}} demanded Nefertem.

{{Be easy, Nefertem. Your mother cannot be far. Forgive my son, General Hammond. We have sought her for over two thousand years. In the end, even I had given up finding my beloved after Ra captured her.}}

Hammond nodded slowly. "Young man, your mother has been found. However," he added as a look of satisfaction spread across the young man's face, "she has taken up residence in the body of my Chief Medical Officer."

Anise chuckled softly. {{As well she might, General. Sekhmet's purview includes both disease and healing. Her medicinal feats are legendary. And she does have a preference for red-haired hosts.}}

Hammond's eyes narrowed. After that entire fiasco with the Tok`ra provided armbands that ended with a near-suicidal attack on Apophis`s ship, he did not like this woman one bit. Or trust her. "I see. So you think this is a wonderful situation, miss?"

Jacob grabbed Hammond's upper arm, stopping his forward momentum. "Old friend, we'll get this solved. Now, where is Sekhmet?"

George shook himself free of his old friend and glanced at Daniel, noticing the contemplative look that had come over his archaeologist. "She's on her way in. Jack had to `Zat her."

{{WHAT!}} came the unison cry from Anise, Ptah, and Sekhmet`s son.

Hammond glared at the visiting Tok'ra. "If you want your Queen, people, you had better find her a new host. She's not keeping this one." He spun on his heel and stalked out of the Gateroom, the others hurrying to keep up.

~~~~~~

"'Curiously enough, the only thing that went through the mind of the bowl of petunias as it fell was Oh no, not again. Many people have speculated that if we knew exactly why the bowl of petunias had thought that we would know a lot more about the nature of the Universe than we do now.'"

"What in God's name are you reading to her, Michael?" asked a startled General Hammond.

Sullivan grinned and closed the book, setting it on the bedside table. "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe. It's a classic, General," he added, turning to face his commander.

Hammond sighed, shaking his head. "They found Doctor Frasier."

Sullivan nodded, glancing at Cassandra's still form. "I know, Doctor Warner came in to tell me." Standing, he stretched the kinks out of his back. "Has anyone gotten in touch with Jonas Quinn?" he asked.

Hammond's eyes narrowed, his paternal instincts suddenly going off. "Jonas is off-planet, Captain. Why would we need to get in touch with Jonas?"

Sullivan, realizing his misstep, silently cursed himself. "No particular reason. He is, however, still a member of SG-1, sir--and Doctor Frasier's `illness' does impact SG-1."

Oddly, the general didn't look like he'd bought the priest's dissembling. "Really. We'll discuss this in greater detail later, Captain. You once played rugby, correct?"

Sullivan nodded slowly. "That and hockey. Why?"

"I need for you to be ready to stop Doctor Frasier if that thing inside her takes over again. She tried to attack Major Carter earlier and we already know what she did to Cassandra. I'd rather be too careful than regret it later."

Sullivan nodded, then noticed that they had suddenly developed an audience. "Sir, it's showtime." He cocked his head towards the door, where Sam and Jack had appeared, a definitely the-worse-for-wear Janet Frasier in between them. Behind the threesome he could see Daniel, and the Tok'ra contingent. In his time with the
SGC, he'd met both Jacob Carter and Anise. The others, however, were wild cards, decided the chaplain.

"Come in, Doctor Frasier," called Hammond, standing beside Cassie's bedside.

Janet took a tentative step forward, glanced from Jack to Sam, then took another. "What are her vitals?" she asked quietly, her voice hoarse. But not Goa'uld hoarse, Sullivan noted. The nurse stationed near Cassie quickly told the doctor and Janet stepped closer to her daughter. "I need to have my hands free, Sam. Please."

Sam met her friend's gaze for a moment, then nodded. Pulling out a box-cutter from her pants pocket, she sliced off the plastic restraints that they'd fastened around Janet's wrists. Sam offered the petite woman an encouraging smile and guided her closer to Cassie.

Janet rubbed her wrists for a moment before she stepped closer to her daughter.

Sweet Jesus, she thought as her brown eyes swept over her daughter's still form. What have I done?

~This is my doing, child. And it shall be my undoing, if you will allow me.~

Why should I trust you? she silently asked the thing in her head.

~Because only I can mend the damage, child. Twill be instantaneous--on my word as a mother.~

Janet nodded slightly and felt the symbiote take dominion. She was pushed to the background, still aware of what was going on but lacking any control.

{{I must touch the child}} rumbled the voice of Sekhmet from within Janet.

Daniel winced.

{{It will only take a moment to reverse what I have done.}}

Hammond nodded and Sekhmet laid her hand on the side of Cassie's face. For a moment Sekhmet was completely still, her own eyes closed, and then she stepped away from Cassie, shaking out her hands vigorously as she turned from her host's daughter. Behind her, a startled exclamation rose from Hammond and Sullivan.

Cassie blinked open her eyes, the flush of fever gone from her cheeks. "Hi," she offered weakly. "Where's Jonas?" she asked.

Hammond shot an accusing look at Sullivan, who had the grace to blush. "How are you feeling, Cassandra?" asked Hammond.

Cassie yawned and looked up at the inquisitive faces surrounding her bed. "I had the strangest dream about a pot of flowers. Otherwise, I'm just tired." Suddenly her eyes widened and she pushed herself to a shaky seated position. "Mom?"

Janet turned, her brown eyes glowing golden. {{I wish to apologize, daughter of my host, for causing you such harm. Your mother was in no way responsible.}}

Cassie swallowed the lump in her throat. So it wasn't all a bad dream. "Mommy?"

Golden eyes faded back to brown and Janet shook herself as if waking from a dream. "Cassie, honey?" She stepped back to the bedside to wrap her arms around her daughter. As her daughter began to cry, Janet perched herself on the bed and cradled her daughter against herself. "It's okay, honey. We'll figure out a way to fix this," she promised, raising her brown eyes to meet the general's.

~~~~~~

"Alright, people, we need options."

{{Are you certain that Doctor Frasier is unwilling to carry our Queen? `Tis a great honor.}} added Ptah, his expression one of confusion.

Daniel stared down at the pencil he'd snapped in half. "Sekhmet is the Eye of Ra. Goddess of divine justice, medicine and healing. An important warrior for the Tok'ra, by all accounts. So what was she doing in a stasis jar in the infirmary?" demanded the archaeologist as he laid the two halves of the pencil on the table.

{{That is irrelevant, Doctor Jackson}}, announced Anise from her seat to the right of Ptah. {{Can you not speak with the Doctor? Perhaps she will reconsider her desire to have our Queen removed if you speak with her.}}

Daniel stared, dumbfounded, at the Tok'ra. "You want me to convince her to give up her life, her personality, for your Queen?"

Anise smiled prettily and Daniel fought down a wave of nausea.

"If I may be excused, General, I need some air."

Hammond watched Daniel stomp out of the conference room, silently wishing that a moment of chaos might save him from the Tok'ra.

~~~~~~

The symbiote had been silent since it and Janet had learned of Ptah and son's arrival. Oddly, Janet was finding it unsettling to have the oft-annoying voice of the centuries old snake fall silent. And since she couldn't see patients or even catch up on her paperwork, she was bored.

She was, therefore, more than a little surprised when she heard a knock at her door.

"Come in," she called from her perch on the VIP quarters' couch.

Her visitor pushed open the door and Janet could see the SF guards just beyond the bemused chaplain. "How are you doing, Janet?" Sullivan asked as he shut the door behind himself.

Janet shrugged listlessly. "Fine. How's Cassie?"

Sullivan grinned as he sat down across from the CMO. "She's fine. Milking all the attention she can from your nurses while sharing her ice cream with Jonas. He just got back from P3X579."

Janet nodded. "I see. Ice cream." She fidgeted with a pulled thread from the couch, her fingers tugging on the fiber. "At least they're not completely alone, I suppose," she offered with a tired sigh. "Nurses count as chaperons."

Sullivan chuckled. "It could be worse, Janet. Think black lights, Led Zeppelin posters, and dozens of libidinous teenagers. The infirmary is downright tame in comparison."

Janet narrowed her eyes at the priest, suddenly getting an insight beyond the clerical collar. "And you say that you're sweet and innocent, huh? I think not."

The chaplain shook his head and pulled off his glasses to clean them on the fabric of his shirt. "That's beside the point. How are you doing, Doc? And what's that not-imaginary voice in your head saying to you?"

Janet shrugged, not quite meeting the chaplain's eyes. "She's been quiet since General Hammond told us that Ptah and Nefertem were here."

Sullivan's grin faded. "You mean Sekhmet`s husband and son."

Janet nodded again, gnawing on her bottom lip. "She doesn`t trust them. Or one of them. What`s more, she won`t tell me why." She rocketed to her feet and started pacing the small room, hands locked together behind her back. "What does Daniel know about this thing inside me?"

"I can find out, Janet. Should I ask him down here?"

Janet turned hopeful brown eyes on her friend. "I'd appreciate that, Sullivan. Oh, and one more thing."

Sullivan turned from his progress towards the door. "Yes?"

"Tell Jonas that if he lays a hand on my daughter, I'll let Colonel O'Neill loose on him."

Sullivan chuckled and left the quarters, hands in his pockets. He had a pair of lovebirds to warn.

~~~~~~

Jack set the pot shards back down carefully and turned his attention fully on his best friend. "Daniel, what are we dealing with here?"

Daniel sighed and let his head fall into his hands. "Okay, Jack, according to Memphis theology, Ptah was the creator god. He just was. He created the world and all the gods. He's the god of craftsmen, of pottery, and of creation. Basically, he's an inventor god."

“So how did he hook up with Little Miss Plague, War and Slaughter?" asked Sam, who had appeared in the doorway unnoticed by the two men until that moment.

Daniel waved a tired hello at the woman and motioned her into his office to join them. Not surprisingly, she sidled up next to Jack, who slid an arm around her waist. "As I was about to tell Jack, Sam, Sekhmet was the sister of Hathor. Or sometimes the same goddess. It gets--complicated," he decided, looking down at the pot shards that had once held Sekhmet. "Which means that she's Ra's daughter."

"Which makes that charming Nefertem Ra's grandson," added Sam. None of the SGC had been particularly charmed by the son of Sekhmet.

Daniel nodded, and pulled out a book, flipping to a marked page. "In some myths, Nefertem is actually the infant Ra...in others, he's the son of Sekhmet. But getting back to your question, Sam, Sekhmet and Ptah are an example of opposites attracting. Ptah is the creator and Sekhmet is the destroyer. He created the world and the heavens, and she was the divine spirit of truth and justice."

"Wonder Woman for the Egyptian gods?" offered Jack, before Sam jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. "Ow."

Daniel chuckled. "Something like that. She rode into battle with the pharaoh and slaughtered his enemies. Even Set and Apophis were afraid of her."

"Apophis was afraid of her?"

Daniel nodded. "She was also called the Lady of Life and her priests were great healers." Daniel closed the book he'd been perusing to give his friends his full attention, suddenly switching to full sarcastic mode. "But on a positive note she came very close to wiping out all of humanity on the orders of Ra." Rubbing his tired eyes, Daniel offered a crooked smile. "Makes me wonder why Ra locked her up. I think, guys, that I'm gonna go check on Janet."

As soon as Daniel was gone, Jack turned to Sam. "How are we gonna get that thing out of Doc?"

Sam shook her head, biting her lip. "That thing inside Janet needs a host to survive, Jack. The Tok'ra are looking...but would you want to have that thing inside you?" Resting her forehead against Jack's chest, Sam let out a shaky breath. "I want my best friend back."

Jack nodded, his hand rubbing soothing circles across Sam's back. "I know, Sam. And we'll figure out how to get Doc back. I promise." Jack lifted Sam's chin so that he could look in his lover's eyes. "Hey, have I ever broken my word?" he whispered before kissing her gently.

Sam offered a watery smile and nodded. "Then I'd better go and pump my dad for information." Reluctantly she disengaged herself from Jack's embrace and started out of the office.

"Oh, and Sam?"

Sam glanced over her shoulder. "Yes, Jack?"

"Find out how Ra captured Sekhmet. It could be important."

~~~~~~

Sam found her dad in the commissary, staring into a cup of lukewarm coffee. She slid into the plastic chair across from him and offered him a smile. "Hey, Dad."

"Sam. How's Doctor Frasier?"

Sam shrugged. "She's in guest quarters until we can figure out how to get Sekhmet out of her. Dad, how did Sekhmet get captured?"

Jacob frowned and stared back down at the coffee. Lifting the cup, he took a quick sip before he made a face and set it back down. "I don't know all the details, Sam. Anise is the expert on archaeology and Ptah and Nefertem have been pretty tight-lipped. I do know this, Sam. Someone betrayed Sekhmet and that was how she was captured by Ra."

"Why didn't Ra just kill her?"

Jacob shook his head. "I don't know, Sam. Everything that Anise has told me makes me think that she's a very dangerous woman to piss off. But she's also Ra's daughter and was his enforcer for eons." Jacob clasped his hands in front of him and stared down at them. "I think Ra figured that giving her enough time in isolation would render her pliable. And our records show that she was a damned efficient killing machine. The Tok'ra high council is chomping at the bit to get her back."

"So they don't just want to increase their ranks," offered Sam hopefully.

"No, Sam. They want to slaughter the Goa'uld. And they think they can with Sekhmet." Jacob met his daughter's eyes. "Sam, she could be the key." There was a glimmer of hope in Jacob's eyes that Sam hadn't seen for a long time.

"But who betrayed Sekhmet, Dad?" asked Sam, worry gnawing at
her.

Jacob shook his head. "I don't know, Sam. But it had to be someone close to her. Nobody else could have gotten close enough to her to betray her. And I don't think they'll stop at just locking her up this time."

“You think that whoever betrayed her before will try to hurt Janet before a new host can be found?"

Jacob nodded. "I do. Which means that we have to find out who had something to gain by Sekhmet being out of the way."

Sam sighed. "And stop them before they try to get Sekhmet out of the way permanently."

~~~~~~

The knocking at the door alerted Janet that she was about to have another visitor. "Come in," she called

Daniel stuck his head around the open door and met Janet's eyes. "I come bearing coffee," he announced as he stepped into the room.

Janet practically pounced on him, taking one steaming cup of coffee from Daniel. "We'll talk to Sullivan about having you canonized. So, what's happening out there?" she asked, plopping down on the couch and sipping the coffee. A slow smile of contentment spread across her lips. "Very good coffee, by the way."

Daniel grinned and sat down beside Janet. "Well, the Tok'ra are looking for a new host. And Sam's pumping her dad for information."

“Good old Dad."

Daniel nodded and sipped his coffee. "And Jack's trying to figure out how to fix this."

"And you?" Janet asked quietly.

Daniel set his coffee cup on the coffee table and stared at his hands. "I'm not the one...can she hear everything that you can?" he asked suddenly.

Janet shook her head. "I don't think she's listening. Actually, she's been really quiet since Ptah and Nefertem showed up. I get the feeling that she doesn't trust them." Janet sipped her coffee then sighed. "It's really strange...I've got this library of warfare and tactics and medicine spilling through my mind and yet I have no control over any of it." She tucked her feet under her body and leaned back against the couch. "She's so old, Daniel. She's strong and mean and..." her voice faded as she stared into the black depths of her coffee. "And I'm afraid that she's going to swallow me whole," she added, her voice barely audible.

Daniel swallowed. Janet had just voiced his own fear for her. "Janet." He hooked his fingers under her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes. "Janet, you are a strong, beautiful, intelligent woman. You are stronger than Sekhmet and you will not be devoured by her," he added, his soft words fierce. "I promise, Janet."

Janet could barely believe her ears. "You think I'm strong and beautiful and intelligent?" she breathed.

Daniel smiled slightly. "You know, it took seeing Cassie sick again for me to realize something." His face was now inches from hers and his fingers had moved to cup her cheek.

"What?" whispered Janet, her brown eyes fluttering shut.

The insistent knocking at the door earned a frustrated groan from both Janet and Daniel. Daniel rocketed to his feet and stomped to the door, wrenching it open and offering the unwelcome visitor a scathing glare.

Unfortunately, the visitor that Daniel was glaring at was General Hammond.

"Ah, sir, we were...we were just..." stammered Daniel, suddenly chagrined.

Hammond grinned slightly. So, he thought, the archaeologist had finally woken up to what was right in front of him. He owed that chaplain a drink now. "Doctor Frasier, you have a visitor. Doctor Jackson, I would appreciate it if you would stay with Doctor Frasier during this interview--for security purposes, I assure you."

Daniel's blue eyes narrowed. The general was leaving a great deal unsaid. "Who is the visitor?"

"The Tok'ra Ptah, Doctor Jackson. Sekhmet's consort, from what I understand." Hammond looked nervous, and well he should, decided Daniel. "Ptah wishes to become reacquainted with his Queen."

Daniel snorted and glanced over his shoulder at Janet.

Janet shrugged. After all, what harm could one little meeting do? "Do you want me to meet him in here?" she asked, rising from the couch and finding her shoes.

Hammond shook his head. "No, Doctor. I think that the conference room should serve purposes well enough. Now, if you're both ready, Ptah is waiting for us."

Daniel nodded and watched Janet come from behind and step in front of him. Their little conversation would have to wait for later, he decided as he followed the general and Janet to the elevator and then up to the floor where the conference room was located. The trip was taken in silence, as Janet didn't know what questions to ask and Daniel didn't know what words of advice to offer.

They arrived at the conference room too soon for both their tastes and General Hammond paused with his hand on the door knob. "Doctors Frasier and Jackson, if something goes wrong, just shout. I'll have a dozen SFs in the room in nothing flat." With that promise, Hammond opened the door and let the two doctors step through. "Ptah, you have ten minutes," he announced.

The Tok'ra called Ptah stood at the other end of the conference room, his back to the door. {{I thought to see my Queen alone.}}

Daniel frowned. "It's just..." he started.

{{It is alright, Daniel Jackson,}} interrupted Sekhmet, suddenly taking control of Janet's body. {{You're wishes are well-received, husband, and we thank you. Now, husband, what would you wish of us?}}

Ptah looked confused, eyes shifting between Daniel and Janet. {{Why, to bring you home, of course, Wife.}}

Sekhmet chuckled. {{Of course, dear brother. And how fare the Tok'ra?}}

Ptah frowned. {{We lack a queen, Sekhmet. Our numbers dwindle and we fight on all sides with enemies we cannot see.}}

{{Then things have not appreciably changed, husband. And our sons?}}

Daniel's ears perked up. Even though it twisted his guts to hear a Goa'uld speaking from Janet's body, the archaeologist in him wanted the information. He decided he'd figure out the ethics of it later.

{{Nefertem and Mahes still serve the Tok'ra, my Queen. Your adopted son Imhotep has been long dead for nine hundred years.}}

Sekhmet sagged against the table. {{Dead? My beloved son is dead?}}

{{But two of your other sons still live, my Queen.}}

Sekhmet straightened, barely restrained rage evident in her body language. {{How? How did this happen?}}

Ptah seemed to shrivel before his Queen's wrath. {{An accident. Imhotep was injured beyond all repair.}}

Sekhmet shook her head. {{Did not Nefertem try to heal him? I taught our son all that he needed to heal all manner of wounds.}}

{{Nefertem was called too late, my Queen. Imhotep had already passed to the Realm of the Dead,}} replied Ptah.

Sekhmet's eyes narrowed. {{I understand.}} She turned her back on Ptah. {{And Mahes?}}

Daniel racked his brain for a moment before remembering who Mahes was--The Lord of the Massacre. Gee, talk about a family reunion.

{{Mahes is on assignment, my Queen. He will rejoice at the news of your return to us.}}

Sekhmet nodded slowly, not turning to face her husband. {{He has not been told of our renewal?}}

Ptah shook his head. {{No, my Queen. Nefertem and I believed it best to surprise him.}}

Again, Daniel got the impression that this was not pleasing to Sekhmet.

{{Very well. You will now tell Mahes that his Mother Queen is alive and returned to him whole. Do you understand, husband?}}

Ptah nodded and bowed from the waist in reverence to Sekhmet. {{As you will it, my Queen.}}

Sekhmet let out a disgusted sigh. {{Go, husband. Do what we will.}}

Moments later, Ptah had left and Daniel and the Queen were left alone. Sekhmet slowly released control back to Janet, her eyes fading from golden to chocolate brown.

"I don't think she likes her husband much," announced Janet, dropping into one of the chairs.

"Or her son Nefertem."

Janet cocked her head to one side. "Gee, ya think?" she asked sarcastically before dropping her head to the conference table surface. "Lord, I thought I had problems," she whispered against the cool wood.

Daniel sat down across from her and reached out his hand across the table to take hers. "Hey, Janet, don't worry. We're gonna get her out of you and then you'll be able to do what you want."

Janet lifted her head from the tabletop and raised an eyebrow. "Really, Doctor Jackson? I certainly hope you have some suggestions."

Daniel grinned. "A few. But they'll have to wait `til we're alone."

Janet sighed and sat up straight in her chair. "Right. So, tell me about Sekhmet," she ordered, fingers laced together on the table surface.

Daniel leaned forward a bit, resting his forearms on the table. "First, tell me about the park. Jack and Sam found you beside a pond with a gun in your hands. Janet, were you going to kill yourself?" he asked softly.

Janet felt her cheeks burning and fought the urge to run as shame flooded her. Her eyes studying the wood grain of the table, she shrugged. "I...I'm not sure, Daniel. When I saw Cassie fall, it was like losing her all over again. I came so close to losing her to Nirrti, but at least then I wasn't to blame. This time it was my body. My hand that touched Cassie. It was my name Cassie called." Janet took a shuddering breath. "This thing--Sekhmet--she wouldn't let me hurt myself."

Daniel swallowed. "Never thought I'd be thankful for a Goa'uld," he whispered.

Janet looked up from the wood she'd been studying so loosely. "You don't understand, Daniel. I understand now that Sekhmet's response to Cassie wasn't rational--it was the reaction of a trapped animal faced with a threat. She just—reacted."

~Excuse me?~ piped up the sleepy voice of Sekhmet within Janet's mind. ~I'm a little more than some rampaging wildebeest.~

"She's awake," offered Janet in a conspiratorial whisper.

Daniel smiled gently. He couldn't imagine how odd it would be to share his mind with another entity. But it did give him an opportunity, he thought. "Janet, may I speak with Sekhmet?"

Janet's eyes narrowed. "Already tired of my conversation skills?" she asked, the edge taken off by the smile tugging at her lips.

Daniel shook his head, the hand that still covered her own gently stroking the skin. "Nope. But it might save some time if I just ask her some questions directly."

~I will speak with him, if you find it to your approval.~ offered the small voice within Janet.

Janet shrugged. "She's game." The doctor took a small breath. "Here goes."

One moment, Daniel could sense the presence of the doctor he'd come to care about. In the next moment, she was gone, replaced by the presence calling itself Sekhmet. "Greetings, Sekhmet," he offered quietly, uncertain of protocol.

Sekhmet's golden eyes narrowed as they swept the room. Settling on Daniel, the golden eyes softened. {{Greetings, Daniel Jackson, treasured of our host. You have questions. What would you wish to know?}}

Daniel's eyes widened at Sekhmet's choice of words.

Within Sekhmet, the part that was Janet yelped. Treasured? she thought frantically.

~Is it not true?~ demanded Sekhmet.

That's besides the point, lady, replied a miffed Doctor Frasier. You don't just tell Daniel Jackson that he is 'treasured.'

~Ah, you wish deception on my part. Very well.~

{{I have offended my host with my wording. Ask your questions, Daniel Jackson. I shall answer all truthfully save for those pertaining to the feelings of my host.}}

Janet felt herself sinking fast and gave up quickly, finding herself outmaneuvered. Oddly, she thought she heard Sekhmet's mind cackling wickedly at her host's newfound predicament. Damn the old bitch, thought a frustrated Janet.

Daniel swallowed. Suddenly he wished that he had his glasses to fiddle with. Right, back to the task, he thought quickly, fighting the urge to question the Tok'ra to clarify her statements. "Um, well, how did Ra capture you?"

Sekhmet chuckled mirthlessly. {{You do not...how does Janet say it...beat around the bush? My fall to Ra was long ago, Daniel Jackson. Why does it hold importance now?}}

Daniel frowned. The old Tok'ra was beating around the bush, something they certainly didn't have time for. "Do you think your husband or sons were involved in your being captured?"

For a moment, Daniel wondered if the old alien would kill him for those words. The golden eyes flared brighter and Janet's fingers tensed on the tabletop. {{You assume that I did not surrender of my own accord.}}

Daniel's frown deepened. "Did you?"

Sekhmet rose from the table, her arms crossed over her chest. Janet's chest, Daniel reminded himself. {{No, Daniel Jackson. I did not surrender willingly. To surrender to my father was to sentence my children to his domination.}} For a moment, a faraway look crossed over Sekhmet's face. {{Would you like to hear a story?}} She stepped to the window that overlooked the `Gate, her fingers reaching out to touch the cool glass. {{I once told this story to Imhotep when I made him my son. Would you like to hear the story of why I fell from Ra's grace?}}

Daniel nodded quickly.

{{Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young man. And this young man was actually the Goa'uld Ra, also known as the God of the Sun, in the shape of a man. This young man became the first Pharaoh and ruled over the land of Egypt for thousands of years. But as time passed, his mortal body aged until his hair was silver and his back was stooped with age. Looking upon this old man, his followers no longer feared him and began to plot against him. Now, the god of the Sun had many children, Daniel Jackson. And one of these children was a very prideful young woman who believed that she knew the truth. She was the treasured daughter of the most powerful Goa`uld and for him she did as he wished, all that he wished. She served as handmaiden to her own sister when Ra took Hathor as his bride. She served as his avenging angel when this followers displeased him.}}

Daniel swallowed convulsively. "So it's true?" he asked in a small voice.

Sekhmet, who had been idly tracing hieroglyphics on the glass, turned from the window. {{Every myth has a grain of truth. I slaughtered millions. I killed all who displeased my father. I ravaged worlds for the greater glory of Ra.}} She took a breath and pressed her palms to her belly. {{I was the monster that mothers warned their sons to beware.}} Her eyes, which had drifted shut while she spoke, suddenly opened. {{Yet even the lioness may be tamed.}}

"How?"

Sekhmet laughed softly, the sound much more pleasant than before. {{Do you know what it is to be feared by all who know you--even your own father?}} asked the creature within Janet. {{It is lonesome. To be hated for your vengeance, your ruthlessness. To have no meaning beyond your utility as a killer.}} Sekhmet paused, a smile passing briefly over her lips. {{But I digress, Daniel Jackson, for this is not the story I once told my Imhotep.}}

Daniel arched an eyebrow. "What, exactly, was Imhotep to you?"

Sekhmet sighed. {{He was our son. Our favorite...if a mother is allowed a favorite.}}

"But he wasn't really your son--was he? I mean, he was a mortal."

Sekhmet smiled. {{Yes, Daniel Jackson, Imhotep was mortal. A genius. Architect and artisan, master and servant to the pharaoh."

That's a Depeche Mode song, piped up Janet.

Sekhmet cocked her head to one side as Janet's mind flooded the symbiote with a quick rendition of the song. {{Ah.}}

Daniel's eyes narrowed. He got the distinct impression that he'd just missed something important; something neither woman would be willing to share. "What do you mean, `ah'?" he murmured.

Sekhmet turned her attention to the young man seated before her. {{Your Janet was merely sharing a cultural reference related to a comment.}} Offering a brilliant smile, she lowered herself into the chair she had previously occupied. {{You asked of our Imhotep, as well you might. He was mortal, born of human parents, and rose far above even his wildest dreams. He tamed a Queen.}}

Now it was Daniel's turn to cock his head to one side in confusion. "Tamed a Queen? How--" he trailed off at the wistful look on Sekhmet's face. He recognized that look; he'd seen it in his own mirror often enough. "But you called him your son."

Sekhmet chuckled softly at Daniel's note of amazement. {{You should understand better than most the convolutions that our familial relations undertake. Hathor was sister and mother to me, as I am sister and wife to Ptah.}} Sekhmet flinched as she spoke her husband's name.

"You don't like your husband."

Sekhmet smiled gently at the blunt statement. {{Marriage for a queen is not about love, Daniel Jackson. Love is a luxury to be envied from afar. Marriage for a queen is about survival.}} Her smile faded as she considered her next words. {{It is rare for love to become a part of a Queen's legacy.}}

"But it did?"

Sekhmet's smile returned. {{Ptah was my consort, my opposite in all things. Male to female. Creator to destroyer. In Ptah I found balance, not love.}} She made sure that she was meeting Daniel's gaze as she spoke her next words. {{Love came from unexpected quarters, Daniel Jackson. In the guise of one did not fear me.}} She chuckled, realizing that once again she had digressed. {{But, again, this is not the story I told Imhotep. You have allowed me to digress once again,}} she scolded softly.

"But you haven't answered my questions," Daniel pointed out.

Sekhmet arched an eyebrow imperiously. {{Questions after the story, Daniel Jackson. You remind me a great deal of my Imhotep--he too lacked patience.}}

Daniel's blue eyes narrowed. He had the distinct impression that this Queen was playing him. "So, the story?"

Sekhmet sighed. ~So much for diversionary tactics~, she thought.

Could've told you that, offered a glum Janet. He makes the tenacity of the Marines look like child's play.

~Wonderful.~

{{To continue, Daniel Jackson, Ra, the Sun God, found displeasure with his worshippers. Their faith in him as their god was slipping and their offerings to their God dwindled accordingly. As their faith lessened, their satisfaction at Ra's ruling lessened as well. In time, they began to plot the overthrow of the gods. Angered at their faithlessness and fearful of their plots, Ra summoned the Gods to him. Seated on his throne of gold, he asked for each God's judgment as to how to punish the people for their lack of devotion.))

Daniel nodded. So far, Sekhmet hadn't departed from the established version.

{{Seated on his throne, his Queen at his side, he asked each God what should be done about his foolish subjects. `Eldest of the Gods, Nun, father who created me, and my children, those I created, look upon the mortals who serve me. Watch how they scheme for our demise. Listen to their traitorous words. Tell me, oh Gods, what should be done to these faithless creatures? Give me your counsel: Should I destroy these beings that I created?'}}

Daniel frowned. "Ra didn't create man, Sekhmet."

Sekhmet frowned. {{Don't interrupt, Daniel Jackson. `Tis impolite. Now, where was I? Oh, yes.}} A beatific smile settled on her lips as she continued. {{Then Nun, Ra's father, said to his son, `Ra, my son, turn your Eye upon these fools and send the destruction raining down upon them that they have earned. Send your daughter Sekhmet to destroy these faithless creatures.}}

"The Eye of Ra is a jewel--a weapon."

{{That is not exactly true, Daniel Jackson. While it is true that Anubis has possession of the jeweled Eye of Ra, that is not all that the Eye of Ra is or will be. For the Eye of Ra is also Sekhmet and of her; I watch over the followers of Ra and deliver the divine justice of Ra.}}

Daniel cleared his throat and arched an eyebrow.

Sekhmet chuckled. {{I know, it's a little much,}} she admitted, referring to her earlier speech, failing to notice that she was adopting the speech patterns of her host. Sekhmet allowed a gentle smile before she continued. {{While I am not overly pleased that Anubis has my toys, I agree with your choices on Abydos. You could not have known that Anubis has no conscience, no soul, and no honor.}} She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her bosom. {{Death is a thief in the night. But to continue the story, Daniel Jackson: Ra had now received the counsel of the other Gods.}}

{{Ra looked upon his father, his sons and daughters, and smiled horribly. `My subjects are filled with fear at the sound of my voice and have fled into the desert and the mountains, hiding from my wrath at the sound of my voice.'}}

{{`Send the Eye of Ra in the form of Sekhmet against them!' cried the gods and goddesses as they fell to their knees before Ra. So, Ra summoned his daughter Sekhmet from the darkness and sent the fiercest of his children out to punish the mortals. She fell upon them like a lioness, and her greatest happiness was the slaughter of those who had broken Ra's laws. She hunted the men who had jeered Ra and had fallen away from the old ways and her vengeance was terrible. But as she killed, she saw the brutality that the mortals heaped on one another--the violence done to women and to children, and she grew angered. Her wrath grew and grew and as her anger grew, so did the carnage that she left in her wake.}}

{{After a time, Ra looked down upon his people from his pyramid and saw that his people had learned the error of their ways. His followers, fearful of his wrath, debased themselves before their god and begged him to stop his vengeance. Happy that his plan had worked, he sent word to Sekhmet to stop her slaughter.}}

Sekhmet's smile was vicious as she remembered and Daniel swallowed a gasp of surprise. {{But Sekhmet had found purpose in her wrath.}} Gone was any trace of the host.

"You didn't stop."

Sekhmet shrugged. {{I have shocked you, Daniel Jackson. Once Imhotep also reacted thus. It was part of what was beloved of him.}} Stretching her arms over her head, she rolled her head, ignoring her audience. {{But I tire of storytelling. I will rest now. You may speak with Janet now,}} she announced imperiously. For a moment, her golden eyes held the consciousness of Sekhmet, then the same eyes faded back to a warm brown.

Daniel was quiet as Janet got her bearings. "Are you alright?"

Janet sighed. She was getting used to not really being in control of the situation.

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