A WORK OF STARGÅTE SG-1 FAN-FICTION—by Van ©2010
		Chapter 5

Jack carried the unconscious, sheet-wrapped Anise/Freya into the clinic.  The Medical team that had responded to the emergency summons was right on his heels.

"Station three," Keller ordered as she rushed forward, pointing to the closest empty bed.

Jack gently laid the Tok'ra on the crisp, white sheets, stepped back, and watched Keller begin her examination.

"What are these marks?" Keller asked, indicating the lattice of fine, barely visible, red lines crisscrossing her patient's skin.

"Uh, she was tied down with thread," Jack explained.  "Lots of thread.  It was downright... Lilliputian."

Keller nodded.  "They don't look serious," she said, and used her stethoscope to listen to Anise/Freya's heart.  Her staff rolled forward the usual monitors and began applying leads to the still unconscious Tok'ra's body.

"She was awake, at first," O'Neill continued, "and was acting, uh, strange."

"Strange?" Keller inquired.

Jack took an additional step back and turned his back as Keller completely removed the sheet from the Tok'ra scientist's body and continued her examination.  "Uh, yeah," he continued.  "She was giggling and, uh, she wanted me to tie her up."

"Tie her up?" Keller demanded.

"Like I said," O'Neill shrugged, "strange.  I'm gonna need some photographs of those things," he said, half-turning and indicating the nude patient with a vague wave of the hand.

Keller and the nurses paused to stare at the Colonel.

"The ligature marks!" he said, defensively.  "It's evidence."

Keller and the medical team went back to work.

"Daniel," the patient said, weakly, her eyes fluttering open.  "Daniel Jackson."  By the timbre of her voice they could tell it was the symbiont that was speaking.

"Rest," Keller said, soothingly.  "You're safe."

"Daniel," Anise repeated, and her eyes closed, again.

Keller deployed her dreaded Penlight of Doom and examined Anise's pupils.  "She's out, again."  She turned to a nurse.  "Draw blood for a full panel."

"I bet she wants to tell him some Tok'ra scholarly stuff," O'Neill suggested, "Daniel, I mean."

"Like what?" Daniel asked.  He was just entering the clinic, with Teal'c one step behind.

"She was asking for you," O'Neill explained, nodding towards the still naked Tok'ra.

"Gentlemen," Keller intoned, "would you mind?"  She made a gesture and a nurse began pulling the privacy curtain closed.

"Daniel!"  It was Anise, again, and now she seemed fully awake.

Keller sighed, spread the sheet back over Anise/Freya's limp body with the help of a nurse, and motioned Daniel forward.  "Quietly," she warned.

Daniel nodded and approached the bed.

"Daniel," Anise repeated, in a whisper.

Daniel leaned close.  "Anise, what is it you want to—Hey!  Hey!"

Anise had tossed away the sheet, locked her arms around Daniel's neck and her legs around his waist, pulled him down onto the bed and atop of her naked body, and was enthusiastically planting kisses on his startled face.  "I love you, Daniel," she growled, and returned to sucking his face and nibbling his lips and ears.

"A little help here?" Daniel demanded.

Keller and the nurses were already doing their best to break the frenzied Tok'ra's hold.

"See?" O'Neill said.  "Like I said... strange."

"I believe she is aroused," Teal'c observed.

"Horny strange," O'Neill nodded.

"Four-point restraints," Keller ordered.

Teal'c and O'Neill stepped forward to help break the Tok'ra's hold on their SG-1 teammate.  There were no objections from Keller or the nurses.  As with the Goa'uld, the symbiont gave the Tok'ra host's body phenomenal strength.

"Oh, yes!  Bind me!"  This time it was Freya speaking.  "Bind me, Jack!"

"Uh, if you insist," O'Neill muttered, holding Freya's right arm and hand as the nurse buckled a padded cuff around her wrist.

"No!  Daniel, kiss me!"  Now it was Anise speaking.  "Don't let them take you away from me!"

By this time, the nurses had deployed the full array of restraints and were tightening the straps, binding the patient's wrists and ankles to the bed frame.

"Nooo!" Anise screamed, thrashing and tugging on the cuffs and straps.

"Can you give her something?" O'Neill asked.

"Not 'til I see her blood work," Keller responded, trying her best to hold down her patient's shoulders.

O'Neill leaned close and focused on the Tok'ra's wide, rolling eyes.  "Freya!" he barked.  "Settle down!"

Freya stopped struggling, and the nurses took advantage of the lull in the action to check the sensors, restore the covering sheet, and prepare to draw the required blood.

"Yes, Jack," Freya purred, smiling up at O'Neill.  "I am your captive—ahh-rrrRAH!  Release me!"  Anise had reasserted herself, and was tugging on the padded restraints with all her strength.

"Stop that!" Daniel ordered.  "Do what the doctor says."

Anise sighed, and stopped struggling.  "I love you, Daniel," she whispered.

"Relax and rest," Daniel added.  "We can talk... later."

"What he said," O'Neill agreed, and stepped back, motioning for Teal'c and Daniel to join him.  The nurse pulled the privacy screen closed, cutting off their view of the patient.

"What the hell is going on?" Daniel whispered.

"Apparently," O'Neill said, quietly, "the host has the hots for me and is into bondage."  He focused on Daniel.  "And the snake likes you, but she just wants to make out.  The Tok'ra are kinky.  Who knew?"

"It is as if her inhibitions have been suppressed by alcohol or drugs," Teal'c observed, "but I have never known the Tok'ra to indulge in intoxicants."

Daniel shook his head.  "This is... strange."

"That's what I said!" Jack nodded.

"Perhaps after we have dealt with the current situation," Teal'c suggested, "the three of you can share a meal and attend an entertaining event, such as a movie.  I believe it is called a 'double date'."

Daniel and O'Neill stared blankly at the towering Jaffa for several seconds.

"Good one, Big Guy," Daniel said, finally.

"Yeah," Jack agreed.  "Full marks."

"Thank you," Teal'c said, with a stiff bow and his characteristic, wry smile.

O'Neill glanced at his watch.  "Carter should be here by now."

"Perhaps scientific or technical issues have delayed her," Teal'c suggested.

"She still would've reported in," O'Neill muttered.  "Let's go find her."

Sam opened her eyes.  She was naked, lying on the concrete floor of an SGC passageway—a giant SGC passageway—and she was tied up.  Dammit, not again! she thought, and struggled to free herself.  This time only her upper body was tied, and it was more of the parachute rigging thread—rope, from her perspective—this time in blue.  Her bare legs were completely free, and she wasn't gagged.

What is it with these damn hallucinations? Sam wondered.  Why do I keep dreaming I'm Bondage Barbie?  She awkwardly hauled herself up until she was sitting on her naked rump, and looked around.

There was no sign of "fairies", or any other living things, for that matter.  She pulled on the ropes, again.  Her arms were folded behind her back and the blue rope pinned her upper arms to her torso.  From what she could see of her bonds, they were neat and symmetrical, like the first time.  Multiple horizontal bands passed above and below her breasts, squeezing them a little at the top and bottom.  Vertical strands hitched the ropes together between her breasts and yoked her shoulders.  More rope was hitched between her upper arms and torso, was tied in a diamond hitch around her waist and across her abdomen, and was looped through her thighs.

She could tell everything was linked.  When she tugged with her bound wrists, the strands around her thighs and across her shoulders tugged back.  Her questing fingers encountered nothing even resembling a knot.  "Dammit!" Sam muttered under her breath, and spent an additional minute making absolutely sure she couldn't free herself.

Finally convinced, she climbed to her bare feet and looked around, again.  She might or might not still be on sub-level 19 of the SGC.  There was no way to be sure.  The elevator doors—which would be giant elevator doors—were nowhere in sight, nor were any doors or control panels with signs or labels, none that she could read, anyway.  The pipes and conduits in the overhead—something like two-hundred feet overhead, from her perspective—were equally unhelpful.  Nothing in the makeup or configuration of her surroundings provided any clues as to her exact whereabouts... other than "somewhere under Cheyenne Mountain".

"Hello?"  Sam shouted.  No answer.  "Hello?  Is anybody there?"  Still no answer.  "HELP!!" she screamed, as loud as she could.  Her voice sounded normal to her ears, despite her body having "shrunk" to action-figure size.  It was a little high-pitched, but that was probably due to the elevated level of adrenalin in her blood.  Her heart was pounding and her throat was dry.

Sam tried again.  "ANYBODY!!  HEEEEELP!!"  This time she detected a faint echo... but again, there was no response.  "Well," she muttered under her breath, "if the rescuers won't come to Tiny Sam..."  She chose a direction and started jogging.

It was a little awkward running with her arms bound as they were, but she soon got the hang of it... and speaking of things that were hanging...  her breasts were flopping up and down as she ran.  "Bondage freakin' Barbie, with Boob Bouncing Action," she muttered as she ran.  "This is ridiculous!"

Sam was more angry than scared—angry with herself for concocting this crazy, stupid, bizarre hallucination.  What the hell is wrong with me?  I'm not into bondage.  And the fairy?  She'd loved Janet like a sister—no, like a best friend and sister—but Bondage Fairy Janet?  Am I cracking up?

Suddenly, Sam skidded to a halt.  A junction in the corridors had just come into view, and she saw movement—giant movement.

"HEY!!" she screamed.  "HEEEELP!!"

Two SFs came into view—two giant SFs, and they were coming right towards her.  They were obviously on duty.  There were always SFs patrolling the SGC's corridors, and Sam was very glad to see them—kinda.  From Sam's point of view, they were in the neighborhood of 150 feet tall!  Their boots alone were several feet taller than Tiny Sam!  The sidearms holstered on their hips were the Tiny Sam equivalents of the main guns of heavy tanks with colossal hand-grips!  And with their giant strides, they were getting close—fast!

"HEEEEELP!!  DOWN HEEEEERE!!"  They can't hear me, Sam realized.  "Hey—LOOK DOWN!!  AHHHH!"  Sam lunged to the side—but was too late!  One of the SFs stepped on her!

Sam blinked and sat up.  He stepped on me... but he didn't squash me!  The impact, or rather, the non-impact of the giant boot had caused a skin-crawling tingle to course through her entire body.  It wasn't like being shocked, but like a wave of nerve-numbing energy had washed over her form.

The SF stopped and stamped the boot that had—and hadn't—just trod on the naked, bound, indignant Major.

"What?" the other SF asked.

"I don't know," the Sam-stomper answered.  "Kind of a tingle in my foot."

"You stepped on me, you moron!" Sam shouted, jumping up and down with rage.  "You..." her eyes welled and she sat down on the concrete.  "You stepped on me!" she sobbed.

"Athlete's foot," the non-Sam-stomper chuckled as they rounded the far corner in a dozen giant steps.  "You should change your socks every few weeks, whether they need it or not."

"Very funny," the Sam-stomper huffed.  "It was a cramp or something," his voice echoed back.  Their colossal footfalls faded into the distance.

Sam folded her feet under her bound body and stood.  Her eyes were still wet, but she had regained her composure.  "I'm out of phase!" she whispered to herself.  It was getting increasingly difficult to believe that this was only a hallucination.  Something or someone has altered my space-time reference, she decided.  The physics were... incomprehensible, even for Samantha Carter.  Maybe the Tok'ra could make sense of it... or the Asgard or the Nox... but not Sam... not yet.

So... what to do?  Sam answered her own mental question.  First, get out of these damn ropes.  Then, find out where I am and find a way to contact the 'giants'.  Maybe I can write on the floor where somebody can't help but see it and—

"Tee hee hee!"

"Oh no!" Sam groaned, and turned in a frantic circle, searching her surroundings.  "Where are you?" she demanded.  "Get down here and untie me and—"  Sam's eyes popped wide and her blood ran cold.

Back down the corridor, in the direction from which she had come, a dozen—no, two dozen fairies were sauntering into view.  They were walking in a loose crowd, their rainbow wings folded behind their back, and they all looked like Janet Frasier!

"Wake up, Sam," Sam muttered under her breath.  She took a step back.  "This is too bizarre to be real.  Time to wake up!"

The fairies were in no great hurry, and were of two different kinds.  Half resembled the same tan, auburn-haired, diminutive doctor Sam had know and loved and shared adventures with for the past six or so years (not counting the elf-ears and wings).  The other half were fair-skinned and black-haired, fitting the description of the fairies in Jennifer Hailey's "hallucination".  The tan and auburn Janet-fairies were dressed in minimal, bikini-like costumes of sage, brown, and brightly colored cloth, while the pale fairies were similarly clothed in black silk or leather.  All were showing a lot of skin.  They continued forward, with Janet's familiar, endearing, dimpled smile on their pixie, Janet faces.

"Stay back!" Sam shouted, then turned and jogged away.  Looking back over her shoulder she saw the fairies keeping pace, skipping from foot to foot and fluttering their wings with each leap.  In fact, they were gaining on her!  "Shit!" Sam muttered, and quickened her pace to a full sprint.

The members of SG-1 (minus Sam) entered the conference room and took seats—then climbed to their feet as General Hammond descended the steps from his office.

"As you were," the General intoned, and everyone sat.  "How is our Tok'ra guest?" he asked.

"Horny," O'Neill muttered.

"Resting comfortably," Daniel corrected.

The General nodded.  "And Major Carter is still missing?"

"Indeed," Teal'c responded.

"And we still have no idea what's happening," Hammond continued.

"No," Daniel agreed, "but we do know something is happening."

"Profound," O'Neill muttered.

"By which I mean," Daniel continued, favoring Jack with a withering stare, "we know something more than hallucinations are involved."

Hammond frowned.  "I'm not calling the Chief of Staff and telling him my Command's been invaded by tiny fairies with magical powers that are kidnapping my female officers and visiting alien scientists and tying them up.  I need answers."

"God how I'd love to eavesdrop on that conversation," Jack muttered under his breath.  Hammond stared, and O'Neill cleared his throat.  "Ahem.  Yes, sir.  Answers."

Just then, Lieutenant Hailey knocked on an open door.  She was dressed in combat uniform, with her blond hair combed back and coiled in a tight bun.

"Enter, Lieutenant," Hammond said.  "Take a seat."

"General," Hailey acknowledged.  She nodded respectfully to O'Neill as she pulled out a chair.  "Colonel."

O'Neill nodded back.  "Report," he ordered.

"The amplified T.E.R. lit up Freya's guest quarters like a Christmas tree, especially the bed," Hailey responded.  "We photographed everything and collected what was left of the thread and 550 cord, preserving all the knots.  Speaking of which..."  She reached into a pocket, produced a sample vial, and handed it to O'Neill.  "I found this on the floor of Major Carter's lab the morning we found her, uh, on the floor."  A blush colored her cheeks.  "I forgot about it, 'til just now."

O'Neill held the vial close to his right eye and squinted at the tiny, intricately tied ball of thread it contained.  He passed it to General Hammond.  "Don't worry, Lieutenant," he said.  "You can't be expected to put together a puzzle when you only have one piece."

"Major Carter would have made the connection right away," Hailey muttered, "as soon as I had my... encounter."

"You were understandably distracted," Teal'c intoned (understating the obvious).  "You have made no error."

"You're not Sam, Lieutenant," Jack said, and Hailey's blush brightened.

Daniel frowned at O'Neill.  "Jack!" he whispered.

"For one thing," O'Neill continued, ignoring Daniel's rebuke, "you're quite a bit shorter.  For another, you don't have your doctorate in astrophysics, yet.  Don't worry, Lieutenant.  When you mess up, I'll tell you."

Hailey was still blushing, but the ghost of a shy smile curled her lips.  "Yes, sir," she muttered.  "Nothing else to report at this time, sir."

General Hammond nodded.  (He was also suppressing a smile.)  "Doctor Keller tells me she doesn't want to leave the clinic until the remaining lab work on her latest patient is complete.  Our Tok'ra guest continues to act as if she's intoxicated, although her preliminary blood work is perfectly normal, for a Tok'ra.  The effect, whatever it is, does seem to be fading with time."

"Oh!" Hailey gasped, and every head swiveled in her direction,  Her blush returned and she focused on the table.

"Lieutenant?" Hammond asked, with an encouraging smile.

Hailey swallowed, then cleared her throat.  "Uh, naquata, General," she answered.  "Major Carter acted a little tipsy, but I was just tired—very tired.  And Freya is, uh, wasted."

"Drunk as the proverbial skunk," O'Neill muttered.

"Naquata," Daniel said, nodding with enthusiasm.  "Sam has the naquata marker in her blood from when she was host to Jolinar."

"And as the active host of Anise," Teal'c added, "the level of naquata in Freya's bloodstream is much higher.  Very good, Lieutenant."

"Uh, it's just a hypothesis," Hailey said, "and I don't know if it means anything."

"Colonel," General Hammond said, "I'm assigning Lieutenant Hailey to SG-1 until we resolve this situation."  He stood, and the others quickly followed suit.  "I'm probably going to declare 'Threshold-Uniform' later today," he intoned, "after the rest of the search parties report back."

The codeword "Threshold" signaled a hostile alien invasion of the SGC through the stargate.  It would trigger automatic responses from the Department of Defense, such as a cordon of troops being thrown around the mountain and specially trained and equipped Air Force Special Forces and Hazardous Material Response Teams being activated, deployed, and sent into action.

"Threshold-Uniform" was a lesser level of alert and signaled a probable alien incursion, but of unknown intent.  It would trigger nearly the same response as "Threshold".  The troops and response teams would activate and deploy, but would remain on alert, awaiting orders.

Any form of "Threshold" was not declared lightly.  That sort of troop movement on American soil could only be explained away as a "training exercise" so many times before the press started asking embarrassing questions and demanding detailed answers.

Hammond sighed.  "And now, I have to make that phone call to the Chief of Staff."  His expression became even more serious.  "I don't have to tell you what you need to do now, SG-1.  Dismissed."  He turned and headed for the stairs.

SG-1 waited until the General was in his office.

"What we need to do now?" Hailey asked.  "Save the planet?"

O'Neill favored his new subordinate with a cool stare.  "Save the planet is a given, Lieutenant."

"He means Sam," Daniel explained.

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.

Hailey's blush returned, again.  "Oh."  She swallowed and met O'Neill's stare with a determined stare of her own.  "That would have been my first priority, regardless... sir."

Daniel and Teal'c shared a knowing grin.  O'Neill's expression remained unchanged, but he reached to his left sleeve, ripped off his Velcro-backed SG-1 patch, and slapped it on the pile patch on Hailey's left shoulder.  "Let's go save Sam," he said, and headed for the door.

At the moment, Sam needed saving, very badly!  She was running as fast as she could, but the Janet-fairies—what else could she call them?—were still gaining on her.  They were continuing to take skipping, prancing, wing-fluttering jumps, and some of them were actually flipping somersaults and striking elegant poses at the peak of their soaring arcs.

They're playing with me, Sam realized.  They can take me whenever they want.  And now they were taunting her!

"Run, Zam, run!"

"We're going to catch you, Zam!"

"Look at her titties dance!"

"Soon all of her will be dancing!"

Tee-hee-hee-hee!"

Sam continued running.  Her feet and shins were throbbing from running bare-footed on the concrete, her heart was pounding, and her bound bosom was heaving.

"She's so pretty!" one of the Janet-fairies giggled.

"Look at her tushie!" another laughed.

"And her legs!"

"And her pretty blond hair!  Didn't it used to be shorter?"

"Maybe we can give her a trim after we catch her!"

"Tee-hee-hee-hee-hee!"

"Enough!" Sam fumed, skidded to a halt, and turned to face her tormentors.  "Keep away from me!"

"She's all sweaty," one of the pale Janet-fairies noted.

"That means she'll be salty," a tan Janet-fairy added, and all the others giggled.

Sam slowly spun in a circle.  The Janet-fairies had surrounded her in a loose ring, and all were smiling evil smiles (cute, adorable, Janet Fraiser, evil smiles).  There was nowhere left for Sam to run, and as if to prevent the impossibility of Sam somehow levitating her way to an escape, the Janet-fairies in the back lifted into the air and hovered, their buzzing wings sounding a bee-like hum.  Sam was at the center of a half-globe of menacing (and devilishly cute) pale and tan Janet-fairies.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam demanded.

"It's your destiny, Zam," one of the Auburn-haired Janet-fairies said.  She had a gold collar around her throat.

"You are our Queen, Zam," a raven-haired fairy added.  This one had a silver collar.  "And we're going to make you dance!"

"And dance again!"

"And again!

"Forever!"

"Forever, as our Fairy Queen!"

"All hail the Fairy Queen!"

"All hail Queen Zam!"

"Get her!"

The Janet-fairies pounced, tackling Sam from all directions!

"Nooo!" Sam screamed.  She was at the bottom of a scrum of giggling, amorous Janet-fairies.  "Get off me!  Stop that!  M'rmpfh!"  They were kissing her face, thrusting their tongues into her mouth and her ears.  They were licking her throat and her shoulders, and arms.  They were licking, kissing, and nibbling everything—including her fingers and toes.  "MMMRFH!!"  Their delicate fingers stroked her skin, and they licked, kissed, nibbled, and nuzzled her breasts, nipples, labia, and clitoris—her everything!!

"This is the Great Hunt," one of the Janet-fairies whispered in Sam's right ear.

"And you are our prey," a Janet-fairy whispered from the left.

"Mrrrfh!"  The amorous assault between Sam's legs doubled in intensity. It was horrible—in a shiveringly wonderful sort of way.  Sam writhed and struggled, but the wet tongues, soft lips, and caressing hands were everywhere and she could do nothing to prevent the giggling crowd from working their erotic magic.

"Slowly, my Sisters," one of the fairies cautioned.

"This is only the first event of the Hunt," another added.  "Make her dance slooooowly."

Sam was going to cum.  She couldn't help herself.  "Mmmmpfh!"  It was difficult to breath, with flickering fairy tongues slurping in and out of her mouth, kissing her nose, and tickling her nipples and ribs.  Her arousal was building—and building.  She squeezed her eyes tightly closed—ignoring the wet kisses raining on their closed lids—put her head back—ignoring the lips kissing her stretched throat—went totally rigid—and came!

Sam was drifting in a cloud of contentment.  She felt wonderful, all over.  Okay, she was tied up, and more rope was tightening around her knees and ankles, but she felt wonderful!  Her bed was a cushion of smooth, warm, firm flesh, thighs and laps and gentle hands, and fingers were gently combing her hair and caressing her shoulders, and her breasts, and her tummy, and—

Sam's eyes snapped open.  She was surrounded by the Janet-fairies.  They were cushioning her body and gently caressing her skin.  "W-what are you?" she asked.  Blue rope was still being wound and cinched around her legs.  She tried to kick, but it was already too late to impede the process, especially with a dozen fairy hands holding her legs.

"Shh..."  One of the Janet fairies hushed Sam, pressing her index finger against Sam's lips.  "You know what we are."

"We are fairies," one explained.

"We are your subjects," one of the tan fairies added.

"And you are our prey."  This time it was one of the pale fairies talking.

"But you're... Janet," Sam whispered.  "You're all Janet."

The fairies laughed.  "Of course we are, zilly Zam," one of them giggled.

The fairies laughed again, and began a mocking chant.  "Zilly Zam, Zilly Zam, Zilly Zam—"

"Stop it!" Sam snapped, "and get your hands off me—MRRMPH!"  One of the Janet-fairies had stuffed a wad of silk cloth in her mouth, and another began wrapping a narrow band of silk around and around her lower face.  Meanwhile, rope was tightening around the soles of her feet and her big toes.  Sam was now tightly, intricately bound from shoulders to toes, and the horizontal and lateral, diamond-hitched blue strands were tight enough to dimple her tan, smooth flesh.

"Prepare The Queen for transport to the next event!" the pale Janet-fairy with the silver collar ordered.

"Bring the net!" The tan Janet-fairy with the Gold collar added.

Still reclined on the laps of a dozen of her captors, Sam watched a dozen more Janet-fairies, six pale and six tan, flutter forward, carrying a mass of black and desert-tan rope.  The mass was laid out to one side, and Sam could see that it was a rectangular net woven from the two colors, with long coils of single ropes on either side.

Sam was gently lifted and carried to the net.  She mewled complaints through her gag and squirmed, but against so many handlers, her struggles were less than useless.  They laid her on the net, the coiled ropes were passed from each side and through loops on the other, and pulled taut.  The net closed over her body, trapping her in its tan and black mesh.  A black-haired Janet-fairy took hold of each of the six black ropes, an auburn Janet-fairy of each of the tan, and they lifted into the air in a buzz of fluttering wings.

Sam mewled through her gag as she left the ground.  She was dangling in the net like slung cargo shared by a dozen helicopters.  The other Janet-fairies were now airborne as well, and Sam was carried down the corridor toward... "the next event"?

"Zilly Zam, our Fairy Queen," one of the Janet-fairies sang.  "We love you Zam, our Fairy Queen!"

The others took up the song, in multi-part harmony.  "Zilly Zam, our Fairy Queen; We love you Zam, our Fairy Queen!"

I think I liked it better when this was a hallucination, Sam decided, relaxing in her bonds.  Years of therapy, maybe—but at least it wasn't real.  What are they going to do to me?  What is 'the next event'?

"Zilly Zam, our Fairy Queen; We love you Zam, our Fairy Queen!"

The cloud of Janet-fairies, along with their helpless cargo, flew away down the deserted corridor... rounded the corner... and all was still.

Suddenly, the SGC's intercom crackled to life.

"This is General Hammond.  Condition Threshold-Uniform is set throughout the base.  I say again, Threshold-Uniform is set throughout the base.  All personnel designated non-essential report to your evacuation stations.  Any personnel who have seen Major Samantha Carter of SG-1 in the last two hours, report through your chain of command."