A WORK OF STARGÅTE SG-1 FAN-FICTION—by Van ©2010
		Chapter 3

Hailey picked at her food.  The meal was palatable enough—oven-baked chicken, green beans, au-gratin potatoes, some crusty-crust crumble cake thing with an as yet unidentified fruit-filling for dessert—but she'd lost her appetite... most of it, anyway.  I should have kept my stupid mouth shut, she fumed.

She'd made the mistake of mentioning the auditory hallucination she might have experienced while alone in the lab.  'Tee-hee-hee...'  Did I even hear anything strange, or was it just a recirculating fan, somewhere, that needs a drop of oil?

She sliced off a bite of chicken and forked it into her mouth.  Not bad.  Not too dry and not too greasy.  As Air Force chow halls went, the SGC facility was pretty good—much better than Mitchell Hall at the Academy, that was for sure.

Anyway, upon their return to the lab, Hayley told the others she'd heard the sound—and Freya had wasted the next half-hour waving various Tok'ra instruments in her face.  Then, she'd insisted that Hailey report to the clinic.  Once there, Dr. Keller had wasted another half-hour poking, proding, drawing blood, and flashing the dreaded Penlight of Doom in her eyes.  She was fine!  Obviously, she was fine!

Major Carter had watched the entire process from her hospital bed, across the room, carefully suppressing her patented "brat-smirk" in a feeble attempt to disguise her amusement.  I'll have to get her for that, Hailey fumed, as she sliced off more chicken... somehow... someday.  Opportunities for "getting" superior officers were generally few and far between, though.

Keller had finally agreed there was nothing wrong with her, but had ordered Hailey to remain at the SGC for the night, "just as a precaution".  At least she'd talked the doctor out of incarcerating her in the clinic, like the unfortunate and also apparently perfectly healthy Major.

The guest quarters were okay... austere but comfortable... but Hailey wasn't prepared to stay the night.  For one thing, she didn't have her book!  She'd just started Taylor Anderson's third Destroyermen novel, and it was really good, just like the first two—but her copy was waiting on the nightstand back at her apartment, in town—and here she was, stuck under the Mountain.

Also... They can videoconference with half the freakin' galaxy, Hailey sighed, picking through the potatoes with her fork, but they don't get basic cable.  That wasn't quite true, of course.  Hailey knew some of the senior officers had CNN patched into their offices, but there was no TV in the guest quarters. She had to admit this was probably a good thing, from the perspective of Planetary Defense.  Wouldn't want a visiting dignitary from some alien civilization turning on the tube and finding 'American Idol', she reasoned.  They'd probably decide, right on the spot, that entering into an alliance with a race of blithering idiots was something they might want to avoid.

The potatoes were good, especially the parts with the crusty brown cheese, but they weren't enough to raise her spirits.

It had been an interesting and frustrating day.  Major Carter naked in the lab, transphase residue stuff all over the place—interesting.  They'd documented the patterns, but Freya/Anise couldn't explain what any of it actually meant.  In fact, she wasn't even sure it meant anything, speculating that "transphase folding" might have created the hot-spots.  Frustrating!  Earth's best minds were struggling to make sense of Tok'ra Physics—what their cautious allies were willing to share of it, that is—and it was exciting to be in the forefront of such knowledge, at the Major's side.  Of course, the civilian scientists at Area 51 would say they were the forefront—but everyone at the SGC knew Samantha Carter was the best and brightest.  In any case, they all had a long way to go before they could argue the ins and outs of Transdimensional Mechanics with a Tok'ra scientist.

Tomorrow would probably be even worse.  Freya would fiddle with her instruments.  Felger would periodically fetch coffee (and/or blue Jell-O for Major Carter, assuming Keller let her out of the clinic).  The Major, herself, would come and go, splitting her time between the lab and helping deal with the Impending Planetary Doom du jour.  And Hailey?  Lieutenant Hailey would get to watch.  It was frustrating, but there was nothing for it.  She'd finish her dinner, grab a workout, and then—

A forkload of beans halfway to her mouth, Hailey froze.

P3X-595!  I forgot about P3X-595!

Somewhere in Admin there was an SG-1 report documenting all the details of an off-world mission in which her mentor indulged in, or was induced into, public nudity!  She just had to read it, and being stuck at the SGC meant she could do it sooner, rather than later!

Hailey returned to her dinner.  This really is delicious, she conceded.  She couldn't remember one meal at the Academy where the vegetables weren't steamed to mush and over-salted, but these beans were actually al dente.

Hailey suppressed her smile,  She didn't want any casual observers in the dining hall to catch her grinning like an idiot—not that she was really up to anything that you could call mischief... technically.  It was her duty, after all, to examine all relevant information that might shed light on the current mystery, wasn't it?

There was no need to rush things.  Hailey had all night.

She went to Admin, pulled the report of the one-and-only SGC mission to P3X-595 (so far), signed it out, and carried the folder back to her assigned guest quarters.

She then went to the gym, dressed out, and put herself through a complete workout: Nautilus circuit, a two-mile run on the treadmill, and a half-hour of sparing with the punching bag.  She then showered and changed back into her uniform.  She was careful to grab the only clean T-shirt remaining in her locker, to use as a nightshirt, and headed back to her room.

Upon arrival, she carefully hung her uniform blouse and skirt from hangers and shook them out.  The blouse was okay.  The skirt was a little wrinkled, but it would be good for one more day.  She removed her bra and pulled on the heather-gray T-shirt.  Finally, she turned out all the lights, except the reading light on the nightstand, turned down the bed, climbed between the sheets, and settled back into the pillows she'd piled against the headboard.

Enough with the delayed gratification, already!  Hailey opened the mission report and began to read.

P3X-595 was one of the first planets ever visited by SG-1.  There was nothing remarkable about the climate, flora, or fauna in the immediate vicinity of the stargate.  Conifers, grassy meadows, and snow-capped mountains in the distance...  No surprise there.  Hailey flipped the page.

The SGC science community had reached the general conclusion that there was nothing coincidental about the similarity of the earth-like planets that were linked by stargates.  Granted, various teams had encountered desert planets, ice planets, water planets, and a handful with toxic atmospheres and/or hellishly hostile climates; but the vast majority of planets with gates mirrored the temperate regions of earth's Northern Hemisphere.  The theory was that the Ancient gatebuilders had purposely chosen similar conditions as they seeded the gate network.  This was more an observation than an actual theory; but then, the science of Xenogeography was still in its infancy.

Hailey smiled.  She'd reached the account of SG-1's first contact with the native population.  'Following the trail that leads from the stargate clearing down to a river valley,' Hailey read, 'we approached a village of more than a hundred small buildings, situated on both sides of a wide river that empties into a vast lake or inlet.  Both banks of the river have simple piers, areas of beach with canoes and small boats dragged above the waterline, and extensive drying racks for fishing nets.  Atop a low hill and surrounded by a ditch and palisade is a large structure of wooden logs.  The inhabitants—'

"Tee-hee-hee!"

Hailey slammed the folder closed.  That does it!  Hailey threw back the covers, sat up, and scanned the dark, empty room.  If I have to check out a tool box and fix the damn fans myself, I'll do it!

She heard what was unmistakably a tiny, metallic creak, looked up, and found that the louvered cover of the air duct register was open, and it was swinging by its hinge.

"What the—"

There was a flash—and Hailey collapsed on the bed, unconscious.

It was the worst, most fantastic, most incredibly erotic nightmare of Hailey's life.

She was on her back, on an endless plane of mottled gray, loosely woven cloth.  The sky was a uniform black, with the exception of the glaring yellow sun burning at ten o'clock high; but she couldn't concentrate on anything.  Strong, pale hands were sliding over her naked, spreadeagled body.  She was loosely bound at the ankles and wrists with some sort of soft material—but mainly, it was the hands, those countless, wonderful, horrible hands—holding her down, stretching her out, and gliding over her skin.  Sometimes they were warm, and sometimes cool, and sometimes their fingers would gently pinch her nipples, or cup her breasts, or lightly drag their nails across her inner thighs!  Wonderful!  Horrible!

And there were the faces—all the same, all pale and beautiful, and all seeming to float in the darkness, surrounded by rippling, drifting sheets of shining, raven-black hair—and they all belonged to Janet Fraiser!  Yes, they were all Janet... only their eyes burned with violet fire, and their sweet, girlish, bowed lips were curled in evil smiles that chilled Hailey to the bone.  Sometimes there was only one, a single pale Janet.  And sometimes, there were at least a dozen!  Their delicate teeth gently bit the flesh of her arms and legs, and nibbled on her toes.  They licked her entire body—thrusting their hot, wet tongues deep into her ears—and kissing her lips and face, exploring her mouth, and drawing the breath from her lungs.

But she couldn't concentrate!

Every time her mind began to clear and she could start sorting out the details of what was actually happening to her—flash—one of the Janets would touch her forehead with an outstretched finger, and she would be lost, again, in a warm, vague cloud of pleasure.

And then there were the wings.  She could see them beating and vibrating behind the Janets, behind their pale, naked, beautiful bodies, flashing with all the colors of the rainbow as they reflected the burning sun.  (Or was it the reading lamp?)  Their quiet drumming was a constant chorus as they stirred the air and lifted strands of the fairies' fine, silky, black hair.

And they were taking turns between her thighs—licking and probing, biting and nibbling—making her cum, over and over!  And they would cum themselves, as they made her cum!  Sometimes singly, while the others stroked their writhing, moaning sister's pale body, and sometimes in groups, the Janets did things to her—exquisite, undeniable, magical things—and as Hailey gasped and struggled in the throes of yet another orgasm—one or more of the fey beings would cum themselves!

It went on and on, longer than any dream Hailey could remember—but her responses to her fair-skinned, black-haired, fairy-winged lovers were becoming weaker and weaker—her physical responses, anyway.  Her arousal seemed to grow with each fresh bout of stimulation, as if her weakening muscles and ever-more labored breathing was fueling her pleasure!

I'm dying!  I'm losing my mind!

"Rest now, Little One," one of the pale Janets cooed, after one more infinitely pleasurable and seemingly endless orgasm.  She was cradling Hailey's head between her strong, pale thighs, and leaned close and kissed Hailey's lips (sending an electric thrill through the blonde's glistening, trembling body).  "We have what we came for."

"Who are you?" Hailey demanded, in an exhausted whisper.

The Janet smiled, extended her index finger, and touched Hailey's forehead.

Hailey opened her eyes.  The SGC clinic, she realized.  I'm in the SGC clinic.

She was on her back, tucked under the sheets on one of the hospital beds.  She was dressed in patient PJ's, hooked up to the usual monitors, and an IV was dripping clear liquid into her right arm.  She felt exhausted, absolutely drained.  Her lips were dry and her throat parched.

"What the hell happened?" she demanded.

Suddenly, a gentle hand was lifting her eyelids and a bright light was flashing in her eyes.  Hovering behind the glare was the beautiful, professionally detached face of Jennifer Keller.

Hailey hadn't even realized anyone else was there.  The Colonel's right, she decided.  Those lights are very irritating, and someone should say something.

"How do you feel?" Keller asked, giving Hailey's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Tired," Hailey gasped.  "What happened?"

As if by magic, Major Carter appeared on the opposite side of the bed and took Hailey's hand.  "You had us worried, Lieutenant," she said, with a reassuring smile.

"Ma'am," Hailey sighed.  She was too tired for a more elaborate greeting.

"You were late for work this morning," the Major said.  "You aren't exactly a notorious slacker, so I went looking for you.  The door to your guest quarters was locked and you didn't respond to my knock.  I had Security bring a pass key and an override card, and we found you naked on the bed, unconscious.  And your clothes—your panties and T-shirt, I mean—were under your body, arranged on the bed as if you'd been wearing them."

"That's how your uniform was, back in the lab," Hailey said.  She tried to sit up... but it was just too difficult.

"None of that, young lady," Keller scolded, placing a restraining hand on her shoulder.  A smile softened the rebuke.  "Just relax and let your strength return."

"Okay," Hailey whispered.  There was a time and place for displays of martial fortitude, and this was neither.  "That's how your uniform was," she repeated, focusing on the Major.  "Your panties, bra, and T-shirt were inside your pants and blouse, your socks were inside your boots, and your pants were bloused over the boot tops.   All proper and according to regulation.  It was... weird."

Carter pulled over a chair, sat down, and took Hailey's hand, again.  There was concern in her blue eyes.  "Lieutenant," she said, quietly.  "What do you remember?"

"I..."  Hailey tried to remember exactly what had happened in that room.  "I had a dream."

"Do you remember anyone else in the room?" Carter asked, gently.  "Do you remember anyone doing anything to you?"

Hailey blushed.  "I... The dream was about... fairies."

Major Carter's eyes widened.

"Suggestion," Doctor Keller said.  "She heard your story, and—"

"We've got to keep open minds," Carter interrupted, then smiled at the doctor.  "Things happen around here, remember?"

Keller frowned.  "Fairies?"

Carter shook her head.  "I've had an alien device planted in my head that gave me an imaginary friend, I've watched people swap bodies, I've interacted with a version of myself from a parallel universe and another that was a robot, and I've played den mother to a teenage version of Colonel O'Neill."

"Point taken," Keller sighed.  She'd started working her way through a thick stack of selected mission reports, part of her indoctrination as a new member of the SGC.  Things did happen around here.  She shifted her gaze to her patient.  "Tell us more about your dream," she urged, "and don't be embarrassed."

Hailey was still blushing, but she was among friends.  "Uh... there was a whole bunch of fairies."

"A bunch?" Carter inquired, flashing her familiar brat-smirk.

Hailey knew the Major was trying to lighten the mood, and she appreciated it.  "Bunch, flock, gaggle, whatever," she responded with a weak grin.  "Anyway, they, uh, held me down and did things to me.  You know... things."

Keller gave her shoulder another squeeze.  "You have very mild vaginal bruising," she said.  "It's not serious, but it's there."

"Tell me about the fairies," Carter said.

"They looked like Janet Fraiser," Hailey responded.  "All of them.  They were all exactly the same, only..."

"Yes?"

"They had very pale skin, Snow White pale, black hair, and violet eyes.  Kinda Goth.  Otherwise, they were all like Janet Fraiser."

"That's odd," Major Carter said.  "My Janet fairy looked exactly like her—tan skin, auburn hair, brown eyes."

"Yes," Keller intoned, favoring Carter with a coy expression, "that's certainly the odd part."

Carter smiled.  "Dragonfly wings?  Translucent?  Refractive across the entire spectrum?"

"Like a rainbow," Hailey nodded.  "Can I get something to drink?" she asked Keller.

"I'll get you some ice water," the Doctor said.

"Sierra Mist?" Hailey suggested.  "Sierra Mist Free?"

"Coming right up."  Keller nodded to a nurse, and she hurried away.  "Rest a while, and when you feel up to it, I'll have them bring you a lunch tray."

"Thank you," Hailey responded.

"I've got to brief the General," Major Carter said, giving Hailey's hand a final squeeze.  She stood, straightened the front of her combat uniform, then placed her chair back in its former position.  "We'll figure this out," she promised.  She looked around the room, then smiled at her protege.  "Your first stay in the SGC Clinic.  I can almost promise you it won't be your last, not after you're assigned to an SG team."

"I'm savoring the experience," Hailey muttered.

Carter waved as she made her exit, and Hailey waved back.

Hailey closed her eyes—then opened them, immediately.  The mission report! she realized.  Did she find the mission report?  Hailey sighed and closed her eyes, again.  She'll probably get the General to reclassify or redact the damn thing and I'll never find out what happened on P3X-595.

Two Dark fairies watched Hailey from inside the heating duct on the far side of the clinic.  Safely invisible, up near the ceiling and behind the register's metal grill, they sat cross-legged and gazed down at the slumbering Lieutenant.  The little blonde had drained a can of Sierra Mist Free while the nurse removed her IV, and now she was enjoying a nap.

"Poor thing," one of the pale Janets cooed, "we tuckered her out."  The fairy was dressed in a short, ragged kilt of black silk.  In addition, an elaborate harness of black rope hugged her torso.  The intricately interwoven, hitched, and knotted web framed her pert breasts, yoked her shoulders, repeatedly crossed over her flat tummy, encircled her tiny waist, then dove under the kilt.  It was tight enough to dimple her pale skin, but it was for decoration, rather than restraint.  Of course, it did absolutely nothing to preserve or establish anything even resembling modesty.

"We did, indeed," the other agreed.  She was dressed in a pair of skin-tight, black leather thigh boots.  They were simple, but well-crafted, moccasin-boots that laced up the front of the entire length of her legs with thin black thongs.  They were her only covering, other than a choker of shining silver that graced her throat.

"We know how to control the settings of the machine," the kilted fairy said.  "We can use the collected essence of the little blonde to make fey copies whenever we want.  They will make delightful slaves, feisty and almost begging to be punished."

The booted fairy slowly nodded.  "It must be after the Great Hunt.  When we achieve dominance over the Lightlings and have enslaved our Queen, we shall use the Biglings gate to journey to our true home.  Once there, we shall make many fey slaves."

Below, in the clinic, Doctor Keller was approaching Hailey's bed.  Behind her came a female nurse, carrying a covered tray.

Hailey opened her eyes and greeted them with a weak smile as they approached.

"Do you feel up to that lunch I promised?" Keller asked.

Hailey beamed.  "I'm starving!"

"I bet she is," the kilted Janet whispered in her sister's ear.

"Hush," the booted and silver-collared Janet whispered back.

The nurse set the tray on a wheeled table, rolled it close to Hailey's bed, and swiveled it over her lap.  Simultaneously, Keller pressed the appropriate button and Hailey's bed lifted under her into a semi-reclined position.

The nurse lifted the tray's cover.  "Enjoy."

"Thanks, Darla," Hailey responded.  Her lunch was a bacon-cheeseburger, with lettuce, tomato, and onion.  There was also as a large portion of french fries.  "I was afraid it was gonna be... hospital food," the patient confessed.

"You can thank the Major," Keller chuckled.  "She took one glance at the lunch menu and knew what you'd like."

"All hail the Queen," the fairies whispered, in unison.

"Sorry there's no beer to go with it," Keller continued.  "More Sierra Mist Free?"

Hailey nodded, and the nurse turned and left,  "Thanks again, Darla!" she called after her, and the nurse waved.

"Let us know if you need anything else," Keller said, her eyes on the medical monitors.  After a few seconds, she smiled, patted Hailey's arm, and followed the nurse.

Hailey sorted through the little plastic packets of mayo, ketchup, and mustard and began preparing her burger.  "No stone-ground mustard?" she called after the Doctor, in a teasing tone.

Keller laughed.  "I'll check the pharmacy," she called back, "but don't let your burger get cold waitin' for it."

"Strong, feisty, and resilient," the kilted fairy cooed, watching as Hailey took a huge bite from her burger.  "The perfect slave."

"As long as she doesn't escape," the booted fairy added.

"Of course, but the ever present danger of her squirming out of her restraints and reversing roles..."

"Icing on the cake," the booted fairy nodded... then frowned.

"What is it, First-Hatched?"

"I... I remember a cake," the booted fairy whispered.  "Zam baked it, and it had white icing... and candles, and it was for..."

"Yes, I remember," the kilted fairy whispered back, "It was for... I don't recall."

Just then, a third Dark fairy fluttered down the air duct.  She was dressed in a rope harness similar to the kilted fairy, but instead of a kilt, she wore a black silk loincloth with long, waving ends.  A bundle of black leather was tucked under her right arm.

"Hail, Dark Sister," the booted fairy said, climbing to her feet.

The newcomer bowed.  "Hail, First Darkling," she intoned, then shook out and extended her burden.  It was a jacket of black leather, similar in style to the First Darkling's boots.  It had long sleeves and a very abbreviated waist, and was something between a toreador jacket and a bra with sleeves.

The booted fairy extended her arms and allowed her sisters to dress her in the new garment.  The sleeves were reinforced at the wrists and laced tight, like a pair of bracers (or broad leather cuffs).  It also laced closed under her breasts, leaving her midriff and everything below fully exposed.  Her pale, firm breasts were also fully exposed, and were cupped and lifted by the jacket.  Cutouts in the back accommodated the root of her wings.

"Beautiful!" the kilted fairy gasped.

"Evil!" the loinclothed fairy agreed.

"It will do," the First Darkling conceded, "until we have artisan-slaves that can do better."  She focused on the loinclothed fairy.  "I am pleased, and you may claim your reward."  She turned and faced the kilted fairy.  "And if it will keep you from pouting, you may play, as well."

The bodies and wings of the pair of rope-harnessed fairies shivered with delight.

The kilted fairy untied the lower half of her harness, stepped behind the First Darkling, and embraced her from behind.  "Fold your arms behind your back, Boon-Captive," she whispered in her senior Sister's ear, "until they support my breasts..." she lifted her arms until her forearms were tucked under the First Darkling's jacket-cupped breasts.  "Just as I'm doing to you.  And make sure your wings are comfortable, as I'm about to squeeze you so tight you'll barely be able to wiggle."

With an evil grin, the loinclothed fairy looped and hitched the free ends of the kilted fairy's harness around both of her Sister's wrists, linking them wrist-to-wrist.  This involved a little cooperative squirming and groping, but was finally accomplished.  She pulled the final ends of rope from either side and tied a knot across the First Fairy's flat tummy.  Next, she reached under both captives and jerked off the harnessed fairy's kilt.  She balled one end of it into a wad, and stuffed it into the First Darkling's mouth.  "Spit that out," she purred, "and I'll leave you both where the Lightlings will find you."

The First Darkling glared at her sister (as was expected), but heeded the warning. 

The free fairy removed her loincloth and used it to give the front captive a tight cleave-gag, forcing the dangling end of the kilt deep into the First Darkling's mouth.  "This will prevent you from screaming and begging for mercy," she teased, then focused on the rear captive.  "Hold her legs apart," she ordered.

"It will be my pleasure," the ungagged captive purred.  She slid her pale, strong legs through her fellow prisoner's, and exerted a gentle, outwards pressure, causing the First Darkling's legs to splay apart.

The booted, jacketed, bound, and gagged captive probably could have defeated her fellow-prisoner's efforts to expose her sex, but she chose not to resist.

The free fairy knelt on the smooth, polished aluminum of the duct floor, clutched the First's inner thighs, and pulled them even further apart.  Her wings quivering and her tiny body shuddering with delight, she leaned close, and then, with a heartfelt sigh of desire, thrust her tongue between the First Fairy's labia.

"Naughty, wicked fairy," her fellow captive whispered in the First's ear.  "You enjoy being the Evil Mistress, but deep inside... you're a sniveling, quaking, cum-licking slave... just like the rest of us."

The First Darkling shivered in her bonds and her Sister's embrace as the lips and tongue of her other Sister worked their magic—but her eyes were focused across the clinic, where Jennifer Hailey was finishing her lunch.

My slave, the First Darling thought.  My tiny, blond slave... naked and helpless at my feet, fulfilling my every whim, suffering under my whip, grateful for whatever meager pleasures it might amuse me to share...  The Captive Queen, helpless to do anything but watch...  It will be... wonderful!