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Domme Vala

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Daniel knew it had been a mistake to have reacted to Vala's swat on his butt that day in his office, but that wasn't really under his control, now was it?

However, it was definitely a mistake today to have allowed her to come over to his house, and that had absolutely been under his control.

Now here he was stark naked on the floor of his own living room, effectively immobilized, the bane of his existence standing over him with a smirk on those...lips. Those wide, generous...gorgeous lips--

Nope. No way. Not going there. He wasn't falling for her or her crazy ideas. He was going to get out of this situation. This...awkward, humiliating, insane...situation.

He blinked at the rug and the toes of Vala's black stiletto-heeled shoes one inch from his face.

"Comfortable, darling?"

Damn it. How was he getting out of this?


Chapter 1: The Non-Incident that was Only an Aberration Anyhow

The swatting incident had happened months earlier, and while Daniel had never forgotten it, he had discounted it.

It was soon after Vala had tricked him into putting on those ridiculous bracelets. They had essentially tied the two them together, part of the interstellar con-artist’s brilliant plan to force Daniel’s help, on pain of death. The plan backfired of course, and Vala experienced just as much discomfort as Daniel had when they were more than a few dozen yards from one another’s presence. The effects were just starting to wear off, but the irritating woman insisted on hanging around his office, whining and annoying him. Pretty much par for the course.

Daniel stood at his worktable, making notes on a pseudo-Akkadian tablet. It lay like a stone jigsaw puzzle, the several pieces painstakingly fitted back into their original unbroken form, the god Enlil carved into the ancient grey slab. Vala, refusing to acknowledge personal space limits, lay on her stomach on the large table, leafing through what appeared to be a fashion magazine and kicking her feet back and forth in the air.

Vala turned a magazine page then glanced up, an errant curl from her black hair falling into one of her bright slate-grey eyes. "Daniel, do you happen to have one of cards?"

Daniel didn't look up from his work. "Yes I do, and no you can't."

Vala grunted in disappointment then glanced toward the door. "By the way, is the security escort still necessary?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

Rolling off the work surface and standing up, Vala strolled around the table, idly rolling up the magazine as she went. "I notice you've assigned a woman. Were you afraid that I might corrupt one of your impressionable young men?"

And as she passed Daniel, she hit him on the butt with the rolled up magazine. Completely caught off guard, he flinched at the sudden sting.

Then came the reaction. That reaction.

Why, he had no idea, but his cock throbbed to attention so fast his vision all but greyed out. He held himself still, actually managing to grate something out about saving someone the trouble of having to rebuff her advances.

The alien woman made a show of winking at the middle-aged female SF, who, unlike Daniel, managed to ignore Vala's sex-kitten act quite handily.

Vala rounded Daniel as she sauntered, her skintight black tank-top and slacks contrasting with the innocent pigtails that bound her black hair. Daniel found his cock tightening up even more at her proximity, his mind racing in panic. She still held the rolled magazine. Would she smack him again? God, what if she noticed his reaction? He swiveled his groin, angling it towards the table, everything from the waist down dying for Vala to notice, hell, everything from the neck down. Only his head screamed at him to stop this ridiculous reaction. A smack to the butt making him hard? He didn't do that, he didn't like stuff like that. It wasn't proper or dignified and it certainly didn't fit his view of himself.

Still talking, Vala's voice was a frustrated whine: "I'm so bored! What do you do around here for fun?"

Okay, good, this was doable, she hadn't noticed.

"I'm doing it," he said, keeping his voice level through sheer force of will. "I'm translating these artifacts from P4S-559."

"Oh. Are they valuable?"

He took a breath, forcing his willful cock to behave. It was just--just that he hadn't allowed himself any...enjoyment in a while. Sexual enjoyment, that was. Well, actually in any kind of enjoyment whatsoever, but that was neither here nor there.

"Well their historical value is immense," he said. "But there's no gold or jewels involved, if that's what you mean."


And he wouldn't be enjoying himself, not now and not any time soon, not in any way at all. There was no room for those kinds of feeling in his life, not any more. He had tamped himself down for years now, crushing any feelings until nothing was left, nothing but work. That was all there was, all he needed, all he could allow himself.

Vala moved one of the pieces of stone-tablet puzzle, nudging it with a delicate manicured finger.

"Don't touch that!"

She came up to him, arms akimbo. "Do you know what?" she demanded. "You need to occasionally get out from under the dust of dead civilizations and live a little. Why don't you take me out to dinner?"

But he was under control again now, her proximity no long a threat. She was wrong, he didn't need to get out from under his work, he needed to immerse himself deeper. He moved away from her to a shelf to get a piece of parchment, proud of how quickly he had controlled himself. "Look, you're not getting off this base any time soon."

"Why don't we go off world? I've got a great little deal cooked up with some traders on Katana."

Daniel returned to the table looking at the parchment. "No."

"We could be partners. We can split everything down the middle, sixty-forty."

He rolled his eyes and the conversation devolved from there, Vala trying to pretend the whole 'cuffing them together' thing wasn't her fault. As if. She had cost him Atlantis. A whole city, pristine, white, calm, clean, where he could bury himself in work and never come up again.

And that was the end of the Matter of the Rolled Up Magazine. Hardly a 'matter' at all. Just an...aberration. Yes, an aberration. In time, the bracelets' effect wore off and the two of them could survive being more than a few yards apart. However, aberration or not, Vala's effect on him only seemed to grow. She was the most distracting, aggravating, annoying, exasperating-- Somehow she knew exactly how to get in his way and under his skin.

Taking her out to dinner had been a terrible misjudgment on his part, and not just because Athena kidnapped her. It wasn't a date. It absolutely was not. Why the hell did he take her to Il Fiero instead of O'Malley's anyhow? He wouldn't make that mistake again.

So, yes, he was happy he got her back--um, the SGC got her back again after the kidnapping, happy she was safe, happy to have been instrumental in convincing her to stop running. After all, it was he himself who, in a moment of weakness, convinced General Landry to trust her. But having her on the team didn't really help the problem of her distracting...ness. Great, now he was making up words.

Avoidance was the best method, pretty much the only method left to him at this point. Mitchell insisted on team nights and Daniel didn't want to undermine the brash young commander, but there were only so many movies and so much bowling he could stand. He began to bow out more and more often these days, claiming too much work, so of course he had to actually be doing the work, therefore spending more and more time in his office until being off-world was almost the only time he wasn't there.

This was his life. It was calm and controlled, he liked it that way, and nothing was going to change it.