lit_gal | Dark, Still Water

Dark, Still Water
SG1/Sentinel Crossover

When one of Daniel Jackson's friends goes snooping into the wrong computer network, the SG-1 team comes to Cascade to find her before the NID can. But the local detective assigned to assist them--and his very strange anthropologist partner--complicate an already complicated mission.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight

It's time for something to go right in Blair's life.

"What are we doing here?" Blair asked suspiciously as they stopped in front of Questscape. Brad's father ran this place.

"We have a little time to kill and I need to do a quick job for the Air Force. You know, walk on some little people," O'Neill answered with a smug grin. Blair glared at him, but the colonel didn't seem to care as he pulled into visitor parking. "You coming?" O'Neill turned around in his seat, and Blair could tell that something was up. The man looked way too amused.

"Yes," Blair said, grabbing his crutches. Distant thunder cracked, so hopefully they wouldn't be in there too long. With Blair's luck, it'd rain, he'd slip, and then he'd end up in a full body cast. Then again, in a full body cast, he'd have a good excuse to just hibernate until all this shit had managed to pass. That might be worth it.

"Well, this will be fun," O'Neill said, and he had that child-like look of glee in his face that made Blair wonder if the man wasn't slightly unhinged. Then again, anyone with as much combat experience as Jim had described probably was a little unhinged.

"Blair should not stress his injury," Murray said with a hint of disapproval, but he got out and held the door open for Blair.

"Oh, this will be worth it, T, trust me," O'Neill said. Walking around the car, he slapped Murray's arm. "He's going to enjoy this."

"What am I going to enjoy?" Blair demanded as he got the crutches under him. His better judgment told him he'd be better off staying in the car, but dying of curiosity didn't seem like a good solution.

"Wait and see," O'Neill said as he set off for the front door. Blair followed, Murray at his side. By the time they got inside, O'Neill had already talked his way past the secretary, and he was standing next to an open elevator, a security guard standing at his side. "This way, kids. So, what do you say that after this we go out for ice cream?" O'Neill sounded so damn cheerful that Blair was starting to wonder if the man planned to throw him off the roof of the building or something. Blair watched suspiciously as their escort pressed the button for the top floor.

The elevator didn't stop until it dinged open on the top floor. An older man with graying hair and the same long nose as Brad Ventriss met them in the hall.

"Mr. Ventriss?" O'Neill stepped forward and offered his hand.

"At your service. Colonel O'Neill?" Norman Ventriss smiled at O'Neill, but Blair could see the confusion. O'Neill had on cargo pants and a long sleeved shirt that was a truly obnoxious shade of green. He wasn't looking very authoritative. But then the way he stepped forward and clapped Ventriss on the arm made it very clear that he was in charge here.

"That's what the dog tags say," O'Neill answered cheerfully. Blair had to give the man credit—he was a master of body language. Ventriss' smile turned a little strained, but he lost his smile altogether when he glanced over at Blair. Murray took a half step forward and stepped between them, leaving Blair to wonder if his first assumption about Murray being a Sentinel wasn't right. Either that, or Blair just attracted a frightening number of Mother Hens.

"Colonel. I was surprised to hear someone from the Air Force was visiting. We can use the conference room," Norman Ventriss had all the charm his son didn't, but Blair actually found himself disliking the father even more than the son, and that was really saying something.

They made a strange parade as they all headed into a plush board room with leather chair. Blair aimed for the closest one and sank down. Between the pain pills, the fuzzy head, and the sore arm pits, Blair was already hating his ankle. Murray took a spot right behind him and simply stood.

"What can I do for you?" Ventriss asked as he gestured toward a chair, inviting O'Neill to sit. O'Neill perched on the edge of the table instead. This was definitely not what Blair had expected from a military colonel. Instead of spit and polish, O'Neill was radiating a sort of bored curiosity. He studied the art on the wall for a second as though expecting them to whisper secrets. The only thing they were whispering to Blair was that either they were reproductions or Ventriss just had way too much fucking money.

"You've done a lot of work for the military." O'Neill's voice sounded casual, but the way he suddenly focused on Ventriss totally felt like some sort of trap. Blair squirmed a little just watching it.

"I've always appreciated the work the government has provided. And I look forward to years of mutually beneficial contracts," Ventriss agreed quickly, but he also grabbed the back of one of the chairs. Oh yeah, he knew something was up.

O'Neill returned to studying the walls, and the silence grew tortuous. Finally he looked over at Ventriss with a resigned expression. "I'm afraid that's not going to be possible. The paperwork will follow in the next day or two, but I'm here to inform you in person that your security clearance has been revoked, both personally and the clearance of your company in general."

"What?!" Norman Ventriss lost every bit of color out of his face. "You can't—"

"Ah, but we can. We're the government, and the government pretty much does what it wants," O'Neill said, and that same childlike cheerfulness from earlier was back. Blair made a mental note to tread softly around O'Neill any time he seemed cheerful. He was scary when he was cheerful.

"Does this have something to do with Mr. Sandburg?" He looked fiercely toward Blair, and Blair sat up straight, suddenly a whole lot less tired. "Don't look so surprised that I know who you are. You're that teaching assistant who has a vendetta against my son. Don't think I'm going to take this lying down."

"I don't care how you take it," O'Neill said, and that was definitely a smirk. "And while this may have started with Mr. Sandburg, the federal government does not act on one man's word."

"I was never given any notice of a problem," Ventriss started, but he shut up when O'Neill stood up and took a step toward him.

"You should have known there was a problem," O'Neill said softly. "When you were notified that Mr. Sandburg was filing a complaint against your son, you hired a $500 an hour law firm to handle a case of plagiarism and threatened to pull university funding within earshot of at least three witnesses." That really made Blair sit up. Fuck. No way would the Chancellor stand up to that kind of pressure. His goose was so thoroughly cooked.

"I have a right to defend my family from the slanderous lies of..." Ventriss cut himself off, but his glare left very little to the imagination. Blair just wondered if Ventriss planned to finish that off with bastard, Jew, or fag. Blair knew full well how many irrational reasons people had for hating him.

"So, you believe Mr. Sandburg lied about the plagiarism?" O'Neill asked calmly. "Did he also lie about your son coordinating an attack against him, one that left him in the hospital?"

Ventriss looked like he might throw a blood clot for a second he turned so red. "Of course. My son is a responsible young man, unlike some people who cannot even make it to work on a regular basis. I have already filed a complaint about your rate of absenteeism," Norman Ventriss shouted, poking a finger in Blair's direction. Blair barely contained a groan. Oh yeah, he was so dead at work.

"Blair is working on highly confidential material. I think his word is worth something given his advances in a sensitive field that impacts the lives of front line soldiers." O'Neill crossed his arms and just considered Ventriss. The businessman looked from Blair to O'Neill and back, confusion written all over his face.

"But he's an anthropologist."

"One with a very unique perspective. However, he is only one man. The fact that I witnessed your son driving the men who assaulted Blair is another issue. Now, Blair is angry that I cannot testify in open court given the sensitive nature of my job and my inability to make court dates. However, your son is clearly a significant security threat. More significantly, he's a security threat that you are clearly unwilling to deal with. When your son is willing to commit felonies, I have to ask, what are you willing to sacrifice to cover up for that? At this point, I'm almost ready to believe... " O'Neill shook his head in exaggerated frustration. "What was that woman's name, Murray?"

"Connie Roberts," Murray answered, even though Blair had absolutely no doubt that O'Neill knew the name already.

"Ah yes. I'm ready to believe Mrs. Roberts who says that your son sent her and her family to Argentina for the express purpose of interfering with a police investigation. That your son used your money and your jet to send her to Argentina. The access you have given him is a clear threat to Air Force security. So, with the evidence I've gathered in less than a day, I have enough conclusive proof to pull your security clearance. That means that you are in default on the last two years of the current contract, and you'll need to contact the Secretary of State to arrange the repayment of any advances."

Norman Ventriss' mouth opened and closed several times, like a beached fish, and now Blair really couldn't keep the grin off his face. Oh man, he didn't even care if he got fired because this... this was so totally worth it.

"You have a nice day now," O'Neill said cheerfully as he turned and headed for the door so fast that Blair scrambled to get his crutches under him and follow. Okay, that was a shock. That was more than a shock. That was... that was what Blair had expected Jim to do, only Jim would have created havoc by arresting people instead of yanking government contracts. And this still left Brad on the streets, but it was going to be a whole lot harder for him to be a predator if his father cut him off from the money and power. A whole lot. And now Norman Ventriss was going to have a whole lot less money and power. Damn, too bad he couldn't short sell a few stocks of Questscape. Now if Jim would just follow through on his end and arrest the little shit, all would be perfect with Blair's world.

"Oh man. That... that was a thing of beauty," Blair said quietly once the three of them were safely inside the elevator.

O'Neill smiled. "There are some little people who I really enjoy stepping on. However, I don't make a habit out of stepping on people who don't deserve it."

"Indeed. That man does not deserve the trust others have placed in him," Murray agreed.

"You sing it, brother," Blair agreed enthusiastically. Murray looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. "I'll explain when my head isn't fuzzy with pain pills," Blair promised.

"You must rest yourself."

"Normally, I would argue, but I'm about out of steam here. I'm not even going to complain about you making things difficult at school."

"Geez, Sandburg. Does nothing make you happy?" O'Neill asked as the elevator opened onto the lobby.

"World peace, a really good piece of tongue, and seeing Brad Ventriss in jail for something serious enough to keep him there a while," Blair quickly answered. "But telling Ventriss I'm doing important confidential work for the Air Force? So not cool. Chancellor Edwards is going to be all over me on that one."

"Technically, it's true," O'Neill pointed out. Blair sighed and stopped for a second, rested his bruised underarms as he considered the three steps just outside Questscape's doors.

"Man, do not try to obfuscate with an obfuscator."

"I'm still hoping that you're going to pass that background check."

"Man, so not going to happen, O'Neill. But why would you even want that?"

O'Neill gave him a strange look. "You can call me Jack. And I looked at some of that work you had in your room."

Blair paused on the top step and glared murder at him. The man didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed about his breaking and entering.

"I've been on mission with men whose senses went out of control. If you can find a way to help a soldier in the field control a potentially life-threatening condition, you've got my backing, Sandburg." Suddenly O'Neill didn't look childlike or gleeful.

"You know Sentinels?" Blair rushed down the last two steps as he hurried after O'Neill.

"I know men who've had their sense go out of control. It's not pretty, and it's not safe," O'Neill countered.

"Well, if they don't have someone to guide them through it, of course it isn't. It's like a blind person suddenly being able to see. They'd flinch at every movement because they aren't used to it. Same thing."

"No, it's not the same thing," O'Neill stopped and held a hand up to stop Blair. "We are not having this discussion in the open, but just take my word for it. In the field, these senses are dangerous."

"Jim..."

"Ellison is not typical, and quite frankly, that makes me happy. I wouldn't want too many like him around." O'Neill got a sour look on his face before he turned and started heading back to the car.

"You're a riot, O'Neill. Jim's a good cop and a good man."

"He does not appear to be either," Murray contradicted him, and Blair glared at him.

"You are supposed to be on my side, here," Blair hissed. That made Murray tilt his head to the side in obvious confusion. Hobbling after O'Neill, Blair left Murray standing in the parking lot. This was a small victory, and he still had so many battles to fight that he didn't know where to start, but Blair could feel a little spark of hope for the first time in a long time. Oh yeah, Ventriss senior had gone for his throat, and he got gutted instead. Now that was justice.

"You look like you're in a better mood," O'Neill commented.

"One asshole dealt with and only about a dozen more to deal with," Blair said with a saccharine smile that made it pretty clear that he still considered O'Neill one of them.

"You're dangling your preposition," O'Neill commented with exaggerated horror and a sarcastic smile before he got in the front seat of the car. The man was officially strange.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

oceanandspace

"Murray took a half step forward and stepped between them, leaving Blair to wonder if his first assumption about Murray being a Sentinel wasn't right. Either that, or Blair just attracted a frightening number of Mother Hens."
>> oh goodie... XDDDD

""Ah, but we can. We're the government, and the government pretty much does what it wants," O'Neill said, and that same childlike cheerfulness from earlier was back. Blair made a mental note to tread softly around O'Neill any time he seemed cheerful. He was scary when he was cheerful."
>> oh, I can soooo imagine O'Neill react this way!!! XDD

anyway, your muse's been bugging you this last few days or what? not that I complain, I love reading a chapter a day! ^____^

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Dark, Still Water

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