No title, but I call it Island Paradise Lost in my head

Mmm...warm...cozy...I am not going to work today. I snuggle deeper into my comforter and two things strike me simultaneously. 1) I'm not in my bed; and 2) it's not my comforter I am snuggling with, but something else.
Alarm courses through me and I cautiously reach behind me with my right hand. Correction. Someone else!!
Whipping my hand back to me, I freeze in fear. My heart is pounding so hard I swear I can hear it, and I try to decide what to do. The Someone stirs behind me and an arm reaches out, encircling my waist. Reason flies out the window and I lose it totally. Drawing in a breath to let out an ear shattering scream, I am silenced before I can make a peep. The arm around my stomach quickly shifts positions to snake around my neck, hand clamping around my mouth.
"Shh! I'm not going to hurt you, but you can't make any noise," a surprisingly gentle voice whispers in my ear. "Now, I'm going to take away my hand. Please don't scream, all right?"
Feeling I don't have much choice in the matter, I manage a small nod and an embarrassing whimper. The hand retreats from my face and takes up occupancy on my shoulder. It gives me what, under usual circumstances, I would consider a reassuring squeeze and then he's speaking again. "It's not safe to talk here. Follow me."
The hand on my shoulder does not move. Flight is not an option and something about the Someone's voice tells me I shouldn't make a ruckus. I resign myself to acquiescence now, escape later. I fumble for my glasses, surprised to find them. Huh. Small blessing.
Fuzz becomes clear, and I take in my surroundings. I, er, we, seem to be in a...bush? No, that's not right. Upon closer examination I can tell that a makeshift shelter of large palm leaves provides protection from the sun and most likely conceals us from anything that may pass by. This has to be a dream. It's far too surreal to be real and I really am far too calm.
The Someone tugs me to my feet and I finally look at him. Relief washes over me, I'm sure visibly. He doesn't look like a serial killer or rapist. Of course, neither did Ted Bundy. He's wearing a black T-shirt, army green fatigue pants, and boots. Military? My unease is not abating. Still, behind his own glasses, his cerulean eyes are transmitting anything but threat. In fact, I swear I see a little confusion in them. Not reassuring.
I finally become aware of what is causing Someone's need for stealth. Loud, raucous laughter is a precursor to the herd of ten unbelievingly large men trampling our way. All are dressed in some sort of animal skin and have long, unruly hair. They look human, I think. Their facial features seem a little off - a little too big for their heads. Or something. Wonderful. Neanderthals.
Eyes wide, I look at Someone and thank my lucky stars I awoke with him. He glances my way and my thoughts are mirrored on his face. He raises his left hand to his face and gives me the `shush' gesture. Duh. I nod and we begin to move silently away from The Burly Boys.
Due to my lack of footwear - thank goodness I wore socks to bed - we travel slowly for about half an hour. Estimating that we are far enough away, Someone relaxes a bit and turns to me, still speaking in hushed tones, I note. "OK. I think this is good. First things first. My name is Daniel."
He pauses, obviously waiting for a response. Cat's got my tongue and I continue to stare mutely at him.
"And your name is...?"
"Oh. Oh! Sorry. I'm not quite, uh, not quite, uh...I'm still really out of it. I'm Carrie." I stupidly thrust out my hand.
"Carrie," he smiles tentatively and grasps my hand, "It's nice to meet you. Nice pajamas." He says this with a bigger grin.
"Nice pajamas?? Nice pajamas?" I sputter, glancing down at my favorite Curious George in a spacesuit T-shirt and scrub bottoms. "What's that supposed to mean? And what's going on here? Where am I? What-"
He interrupts, "Sorry! They just remind me of something. Do you have any idea how you happened to arrive on this lovely island resort?"
We're on an island. Great. Surrounded by water. Great.
"I haven't a clue. I'm going with my `it's all a dream' theory. Last thing I remember is going to bed reading Dostoevsky. Imagine my shock when I found you had replaced him! It's not every day I wake up with a strange man. You can safely consider me completely and utterly ignorant." That came out bitchier than I intended, but Some... Daniel doesn't seem to notice.
"Interesting. So, you weren't on P4X 875 and you didn't commit a crime resulting in your being flung through the Stargate onto Alcatraz courtesy of the Desprins?" Daniel thinks aloud.
"What!?" I practically scream, "You're a criminal?! Those men? Criminals? I'm on a prison? Why?"
I fully realize that Daniel doesn't know why I'm here any more than I do, but hysteria wins this particular battle.
"Like I said, last night I was at home, in Minnesota, far from here. Wherever here is! Then, poof! I was just here. I didn't do anything! How am I gonna get out of here? Oh, tell me this isn't real. It's not real. I'm dreaming and any second I'll wake up..."
Daniel breaks through my ramblings, "Carrie. Carrie! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. Please calm down." He grasps my shoulders, shaking me slightly, "Let me explain! I can explain..."
Lucidity regains control and I quiet down, nodding to Daniel. I don't trust myself to speak. He peers at me apprehensively so I nod again, the only reassurance of my sanity I can offer at this point.
"I think you are going to need a little background information," he begins. "In 1928, a major archaeological find uncovered what is now known as the Stargate..."

"So our last mission was to P4X 875, which we thought uninhabited. UAV and MALP readings revealed no indications of civilization, and we determined that it would be a potential site for a research colony. We set out to gather our samples, and had only been there three hours when we were attacked by 20 very unfriendly and very unexpected, uh, natives. We were strong-armed into a large cave and subsequently led into a courtroom, for lack of a better description. Our captors identified themselves as a race of people called Desprins. Apparently, the foundation of their belief system is that the `outside' world was sacred ground and not to be damaged in any way. You know, `hurt not the earth, neither the sea, nor the trees...'
While they were cave-dwellers, they were anything but primitive. It was amazing, really! These people existed entirely on what they could find in the caves, had devised a very sophisticated hydroponics system for plant/food growth, rain water was collected both for drinking and power...," Daniel's eyes practically glowed with the memory, "Amazing. But, anyway. Where was I? Oh, yes. We had unknowingly broken one of their fundamental laws. Their judicial system is extremely harsh and we were instantly sentenced to life imprisonment. Here."
Even after listening to Daniel's diatribe of the Stargate's history, I am enthralled with the continuing story. "Why are you the only one here? What happened to SG-1?"
"I was coming to that. We managed to convince them - don't ask me how, I don't really know myself - that it was unnecessary to banish all of us. At first Jack volunteered, but I couldn't let that happen. I already witnessed the SGC without him for 3 long months." Daniel shuddered. "I argued and, uh, won. It was decided that I be sent here and my friends home. We were separated at that point. I can only assume that it was so Jack, Sam, or Teal'c could not view where I was being transported. That was three days ago.
When I arrived here, the `Gate was being guarded by the men we saw earlier. From what I have gathered, they are the `cream of the crop' prisoners and the Desprin High Council has obtained their services to ensure no prisoners escape. They are very diligent. The water is infested with very I'm not sure what they are, actually, but I am sure that I don't want to venture into the water." He once again shudders at a memory and looks at me pointedly.
I assure him, "Oh, don't you worry about me. The last place I want to be is in the water. Can't swim."
Eyebrows raise at this. "You come from the land of 10,000 lakes and you can't swim?" he teases.
"Shut up! It's not entirely my fault. I have a very large family. When the first shift went to lessons I was too young, and by the time the second came around, I was in the sixth grade. The image of a pudgy eleven year old in Beginner One with five year olds was enough to make me resigned to a life on land," I retort defensively.
"OK, OK!" Hands fly up. "I won't mention it again."
"I'm sorry. I just get that a lot." I am instantly apologetic for my rudeness. "So, you've been here three days. Any thoughts on how you are going to get home?"
Not that that helps me.
"Been thinking about that. I'm pretty sure that General Hammond will have sent SG-1 and SG-9 to negotiate for my release. I doubt they will have much success. Ultimately, I'm on my own. Even if I could manage to distract the guards long enough to dial Earth, I don't have a GDO. Not much help. I could try to go somewhere else, but the problem still exists. And now, there's you to consider..."
"What do you mean? I'm dreaming, remember?" I can't resist, "Give me another ten minutes, I'll wake up and be out of your hair. Just pinch me, that'll prove it."
To my shock, he does.
"Ow! Geez. I was kidding. Still, it's good to know I'm real, huh?"
Daniel shakes his head with bemusement. I'm not positive, but I swear he mutters, "Just like Jack..." before clearing his throat and stating, "Seriously, Carrie. I don't know about you, but I am not prepared to spend the rest of my life here. I'll figure something out."
I believe him. All earlier thoughts of escape have vanished, replaced with images of my family and friends. What if I never get out of here?
"Hey, you OK?" Daniel queries. "Did I say something to upset you?"
He reaches out to brush something off my cheeks. Tears.
Embarrassed by the unconscious show of emotions, I sniffle. "No, no. Thinking about my family. I'll be fine. I just don't want to be here longer than I have to, you know?"
"Yeah, yeah I do. I don't have a family, but there are things I need to be doing," he replies almost sadly.
I want to ask him what exactly, but at the last moment reconsider. I try a lame joke instead. "You know that all work and no play makes Danny a dull boy, don't you?"
He winces and frowns at me.
"Sorry. It's like I can't help myself. Seriously though. If you want a ready made family, I have a couple of brothers and a handful of sisters I'd be willing to spare..." Before I know it, I'm at it again. Really have to work on that defense mechanism. "Sorry again. Can I ask you something? Why are you hiding from the guards? They obviously know that you're here."
"They do," he affirms, "and so do some of the other prisoners. Everyone else I have seen seems relatively non-threatening, but based on a previous prison experience, I've chosen to remain as invisible as possible. I'm not, uh, known for my fighting prowess."
"I see," I agree. From our short time together, I assume he fights with words not fists. When he has to.
"And, uh, I have yet to run across any female prisoners." Again the eyebrows lift as he glances at me.
"I...see," I mutter. "Then I'd best be invisible too, huh?"

Four days of invisibility. Four days of trying to stem the pervading thoughts of my friends and family. Four days of listening to the exploits of Daniel and the rest of his team. What are they, superheroes or something? Colonel Smartass, Major Pollyanna and the Incredible Tulk. And of course Wonder Boy. Four days of listening to Daniel Jackson, Ph.D. in just about everything, expound on every random idea we've had on how to escape our island prison. Four days!!
At first it wasn't so bad. But there's a limit to anyone's patience.
We focused on keeping an eye on The Burly Boys' activity, watching for a window of opportunity. Seems the boys are about as bright as they look and we shouldn't really have too much of a problem distracting them away from the `Gate long enough for us to dial out. We figured that out the first day, and have spent the past three days rigging the island with little surprises for them. The traditional rope nets, nooses, and strategically placed deep holes should be a decent diversion.
It's hotter than hell on this Godforsaken rock, and as a result my scrubs have become Daisy Dukes and my T-shirt miraculously transformed into a tank top.
I have a serious sunburn going. I look like a lobster, truth be told. And what I wouldn't give for a toothbrush. Shampoo. Ben & Jerry's Lowfat S'mores Ice Cream. Any `real' food would be good, actually. We found a shallow pond for drinking water and have been eating `Daniel approved' roots and plants. The ultimate lose weight quickly diet. The lack of food just adds to my crabbiness.
I am really trying not to be irritable, but I swear if Daniel speaks for more than five minutes at a time I am liable to kick him. I don't care where we go, I'm just sick of this place.
Daniel's rambling about the pros and cons of `Gating to Psomethingorother. I wonder if he knows that I am not listening. He glances up when I don't respond to a question and catches me glaring at him, a wounded look flashes over his features. Whoops.
"Look, Daniel. It's not that I don't care about what you're talking about. It's just that I don't care where we go, as long as we eventually get home. Let's keep working and not talk for a while, OK?" I sigh, really trying very hard not to sound like the bitch I have become.
"OK," he agrees compliantly, and once again begins rummaging for camouflage.
It's astonishing what you can throw together when you have to. We found some decent sized shells, tied them to some branches, and voila! Instant shovels. And look at my shoes. Pretty they are not, but surprisingly functional. I've only gotten a couple of slivers from the soft wooden soles, and the blisters between my toes from the vine straps have hardened into decent calluses. I could run in these babies.
The examination of my feet is cut short when I hear the strangest thing.
"If I had a million dollars, I would buy you a house. (I would buy you a house.) And if I had a million dollars, I'd buy you furniture for your house...," a soft tenor voice wafts in my direction.
Ha! My revenge for hours and hours of mind numbing lectures. I sit back to enjoy the show. There's something very odd-humorous about watching a skinny archaeologist rooting around for branches and whatnot to cover a gaping hole while singing the Barenaked Ladies. I finally managed to coerce Daniel into short-izing his pants, much to his chagrin, and the chicken legs add the finishing touches to my amusement.
I tiptoe up behind him as he sings, "I'd buy you a fur coat..."
I add the echo, "But not a real fur coat, that's cruel."
Taken off guard, he spins toward me and I tumble backward into our latest dig. Hey, it works!
"Are you OK!?" Daniel peers over the edge, "I am so sorry! You shouldn't sneak up on a person like that! Carrie? Carrie, are you OK?"
I try to squelch the gurgles of laughter I am emitting. They must sound like gurgles of pain. It's hopeless. Days of labor and the hot, hot sun have fried my brain rather effectively.
"Hold on! I'll get you out of there! Just try not to move!"
Spoken like a man with experience. I regain a semblance of control.
"Hee hee hee hee! I got you singing it! Hee hee hee!" I gasp through the giggles. I focus on him through tear filled eyes. His face goes from concerned, to embarrassed, to angry?
"Geez, you scared me! I thought you broke grab this."
Daniel lowers a thick vine down to me, grumbling the entire time. Guess I'm not the only one suffering from irritability. I clutch it, he pulls and I scramble up the side of the hole.
Once again on solid ground, my laughter subsides slightly. Daniel still looks mad.
"Can you please stop laughing? It's really quite annoying."
"I know, but...your face! I can't help it! I'm sorry!" I can't seem to stop.
He looks at me for a long moment, trying to hold back a grin. "I suppose that song was better than `Girlfriend in a Coma'. For a while there, I didn't know which one was in my head worse!"
"It's terrible, isn't it?" I concur. "I don't know why, but I always get them in my head and they won't go away!"
We lie on the ground for a bit, resting. More serious thoughts replace the silly song lyrics. Our days of strategizing are complete. In the morning we will make our escape attempt.

"Daniel? Daniel, wake up!" I nudge him. "We should get going. Have you decided where we'll `Gate to?"
"Mmm...what?" Daniel murmurs. "Can't we sleep some more?"
I can't believe I have to be the mother here. I poke him ruthlessly. "Get up! We should head to the `Gate before The Burly Boys become more alert. Now answer my question: where are we going?"
"What? Oh!" Daniel lurches upright. "I'm ready! I'm up!"
As though to emphasize his readiness, his hands move to rub his eyes. Why is it that he is about ten years my senior and he still reminds me of my little brother?
"All right. OK. I've been thinking about it. I think we should `Gate to P4X 884, where SG-1 picked up Urgo, remember? Togar might have the technology to `Gate us home. Even if he doesn't, I'm pretty sure he'll remember me and be willing to help us. The problem is going to be distracting the guards long enough to dial and get out of here, and to keep them from following us through..."
"Yeah, I've been thinking about that, too."
Daniel shoots me a very familiar raised eyebrow look.
"What? I'm no genius, but I am capable of thought!" I indignantly reply to the silent question. "How exactly do you think we deceive, inveigle and obfuscate The Burly Boys? I know we have all these fantastic traps throughout the island, but they won't do any good unless we can get the brutes to run into them. The way I figure it, we need to get them at least a mile away and/or booby trapped in order for you to dial. I'm the obvious choice for a distraction..."
"Why do you think you should be the bait? I've got longer legs than you and therefore faster. I should lead them away..." Daniel protests.
"Hey, I don't like the idea of offering myself to the horny cretins, either, but think about it. They haven't seen a woman for who knows how long. I know I'm not the greatest catch in the world - but I have a feeling that that won't matter," I interrupt, lifting my own eyebrows in emphasis, quickly continuing before he can break in. "And besides, I don't know the first thing about the DHD thingy, or the `Gate. You can do it faster..."
"I don't like it. I don't want you to potentially sacrifice yourself for this. It might not even work!"
"Daniel, it'll be fine! I run seven miles a day, short legs or no. I'm little. I am fairly confident I will be able to, if nothing else, hide from them. I can lead them to the traps and swing back around towards the `Gate. Just give me a ten minute head start before dialing and hang around for a maximum of fifteen minutes after that. Any sign of `em and you get out of here! You'll know where I am and can come back for me with reinforcements. If it's necessary. I'm sure we'll go through together." I try to sound confident, hoping my fear isn't showing through the bravado.
He seems to see my logic and gives a resigned sigh. "OK. But I still don't like it."

We head for the `Gate and find The Burly Boys half dozing yet. Perfect. Daniel is positioned on the left side of the `Gate and I the right. God, I hope this works.
Drawing in a deep breath, I exit from my concealed position into clear view of the guards. I am unnoticed. I don't believe this is the best plan we could come up with. I sigh at the lack of reaction and decide verbal and visual stimulation are needed.
"Oh, boys?!" I call out in what I hope is a sultry voice. Embarrassed at having to exploit my feminine attributes, I arch my back, rub my right hand across my stomach and down my hip. Hoping fervently I look sexy, not ridiculous, I continue, "How you doin'?"
Smooth. Really smooth. I've become the female Joey Tribbiani.
All ten cease movement at the sound of my voice and their heads snap up in my direction. For one sick and excruciatingly long moment, time stops. Then I ...oh God help me...turn and begin running.
I start out slowly, turning back only once to make sure all of them have taken the bait. The worst plan in the world seems to be working like a charm. I pick up speed, my adrenalized legs pumping faster and faster. I try to keep my head straight, to remember where our traps are laid and pattern my flight to zig and zag around, hoping this will lead my pursuers to them.
Behind me, thunderous footsteps sound alarmingly close and are getting closer. Resisting the urge to make the cheesy horror movie victim error of turning around in the middle of a chase, I will my legs to increase their speed. With not a little glee, I can hear the disgruntled groans of several Burly Boys as they fall prey.
Encouraged by these successes, and the euphoria of runner's high I'm already experiencing, I relax a bit. Continuing my random pattern, I make a gradual arc back toward the `Gate. The noises of the guards have reduced, and I am sure at least half of them have been indisposed. I grin like a madwoman. I'm doing it! I'm almost there, I'm almost ho-oh shit!!
I'm falling into one of my own cleverly concealed traps. Shit. Shit. Shit.
I land with a thud, not lucky enough to be unscathed this fall. The air rushes from my lungs, and I feel my right wrist throbbing beneath me, the pain shooting up into my shoulder. I gasp for breath I can't seem to catch and struggle into a sitting position, all the while dreading the meaning of the approaching footfalls. At least Daniel made it. I look up to face my fate.
Three brutes gawk down at me like I am an anomaly. Which of course I am. One retrieves a branch and extends it to me.
Direct command, no room for interpretation. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I climb. I know when faced with one attacker you are not supposed to submit, but all my self defense knowledge flies out the proverbial window. I dumbly stare at The Burly Boys, but am pleased there are only three left standing.
All three start for me at once. I wince and brace for the oncoming attack. I am shocked when they simply grab me and start hauling me back in the direction of the `Gate. Along the trek, we free the unfortunate beasts I caught. I can't help the small smile as it reflects on my face.
We are nearly there when I catch a slight movement in the underbrush. What...Daniel?? Dammit. He gives me the `shush' sign, but it's too late. One of the guards has noticed my distraction, calls for two of his companions and heads straight for Daniel. He doesn't have a chance, is dragged out and flung next to me. We exchange glares and are forced to continue to the `Gate clearing.
The Burly Boys are none too pleased with us. We are knelt down and surrounded, effectively blocked from escape routes. To my horror, I see the morning exercises have awakened the other prisoners, who are now gathering to enjoy the spectacle.
"How far'd you get?" Daniel hisses. "And are you OK?" He eyes the arm I'm clutching to my chest.
"I did very well, thank you," I hiss back through clenched teeth, ignoring his question to ask my own. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"
"I couldn't leave you. I thought of another plan. I was only able to get a portion of it done, so I hope it works..."
"You hope?"
"Yeah, well. I'm sure Sam'll figure it out."
"You dialed Earth even though we can't go there." I am not pleased.
"I didn't want to take the chance that Togar would erase my memory again when he returned me home. Instead, I dialed Earth and tossed rocks through using Morse Code... I only got through S.O. and part of the last S. But Sam will know. She'll figure it out."
"What if she doesn't? Now we're both shit out of luck. You could have been saved, Daniel. If your memory was erased, you still would have remembered here, right?"
"We don't know that. I couldn't..."
We are both so involved in our argument, I almost forget where we are. Until the Brute in Charge intervenes with a bemused look at Daniel.
"Your woman?"
Heck of a bunch of conversationalists. Daniel freezes as though he's not sure how to respond. Either answer has disaster written all over it. He hesitantly puts his arm around me protectively.
"Yes, she's uh, my, uh, woman," he stutters.
"Real convincing!" I whisper without thinking.
"No. Our woman," Brute in Charge growls and wrenches me from Daniel's suddenly strong grasp.
Daniel lunges for me, but is intercepted by a meaty fist forcefully slamming into his jaw. He goes down but springs back up quickly. Best impression of a Weeble Wobble I've ever seen. Five of them jump on him with a violence I've only seen in movies.
He's hidden from my view by his attackers, but I can hear the punches and kicks, his groans coming through loud and clear. Leave him alone!
I don't realize that I have screamed this out loud until my own attackers return their full attention to me. I see Daniel slump lifelessly to the ground and lie there unmoving. A part of me is glad that he won't have to see what's about to happen.
What's about to happen, I am positive, is that I am going to be raped to death. Or into a catatonic state. It's hard to say which is the lesser evil.
Hands grope me brutally. They are all over me, I want them off me! Get off me! I instinctively try to wrestle, kick, claw - hell - spit at my multiple violators. I'm too weak. I can't stop them but I won't stop trying. Getoffmegetoffmegetoffme!!
Apparently one of them is irritated by my unwillingness to participate. A huge paw slaps me hard across the face. My glasses are knocked askew and darkness eats around the edges. I would like nothing more than to succumb to it, but luck is not on my side. I remain conscious, vision thankfully impaired by the cock-eyed glasses.
Through my tortured haze, I think I hear something. What...? The attack seems to change tempo, and I feel some of the men step away. I don't know what is diverting their attention, but I am grateful for it. What is that noise? God get them off me!
And suddenly they are gone, scampering away like rabbits into the cover of the jungle. I identify the noise I thought I heard as gunfire. What? God thank God.
Then I remember...shit, Daniel! I get my bearings the best I can, straighten my glasses and crawl over to him.
Before I reach my destination, running legs block the short distance between me and Daniel. No! My vision is beginning to waver in and out, focus becoming increasingly difficult. No! Leave him alone!
Strong arms grab me from behind and I flail my left elbow backwards, gratified by the smack of flesh against flesh and the accompanying groan.
"Geez, I think she broke my nose!" I hear faintly, surprised both by the tone and length of the sentence. Huh?
"Keep an eye out for the natives, will ya? Danny?" the voice continues.
The attack has stopped long enough for me to realize that I'm surrounded by the good guys now. Exhaustion takes over and I wilt face down, unable to move. My eyes lock onto Daniel's crumpled figure and I latch onto his arm. I won't let go, they can't make me.
"Daniel? Daniel!" the gruff voice calls and I see Daniel shift somehow. The owner of the voice is cradling him halfway on his lap.
I hear someone sobbing. Why won't they shut up?
I am being gingerly turned over and moved, a soft hand reaches out to touch my face. To brush away the tears streaming down my cheeks. Daniel and I are side by side now.
"Shh, it's OK. You're OK." A feminine voice whispers. "Just relax. We're getting you both out of here."
I snap back into full consciousness, and swallow my pending hysteria. My hand clutches harder at Daniel's arm and I look over to him. God, what did they do to him?
"Miss, he'll be all right. He's been worse off than this and survived. Really, he just looks bad." The gruff voice I assume belongs to Jack O'Neill soothes, seeing my distress. "You can't keep our Danny-boy down. I on the other hand am going to need major medical attention!" I hear the grin in his voice, an attempt to draw a response. I don't. Concern replaces the teasing, "Carter, she all right?"
Hands gently probe me and I am not able to refrain the hiss of pain as they contact my wrist and shoulder. "Looks like her right wrist is sprained and right shoulder badly bruised. She must have fought them a bit. Her cheekbone also has a decent sized bruise. No serious damage from what I can see. I'm more concerned with psychological damage, Colonel. You saw those men. They were-"
"No, I'm OK," I croak. It hurts to talk. I look away from Daniel, at last seeing those around me. Jack is holding Daniel with one arm, his other wiping blood from his nose. Sam kneels next to me, but I see on of her hands on Daniel's leg. There are six other camouflaged people on the edge of my vision. A booming voice cuts through my observations.
"O'Neill, I believe the prisoners are beginning to approach the Stargate once again. It would be wise to make our departure immediately."
Gaping up at the massive form, I fight the urge to laugh, "Whoa! You really are the Incredible Tulk!" Low chuckles from Jack and Sam and an extremely arched eyebrow from Teal'c ensue. "What? Did I say that out loud?"
Jack begins to respond, but before he can we all hear a rustling in the jungle underbrush. Panic swells in me. I don't ever want to see those men again. Sam moves away quickly to dial Earth.
"Can you walk?" Jack asks me.
I don't trust my legs, but nod. Still reluctant to lose my hold on Daniel, I stumble to my knees. Jack lifts Daniel with a groan and I follow suit. On my shaky legs, I hobble with them toward the active `Gate. I don't have time to be awestruck, as my vision is once again unreliable. I'm back on my knees and before I can figure out it happened, I'm floating. Teal'c's capable arms grasp me around the shoulders and beneath my knees, carrying me toward the `Gate. Steps away from the event horizon, I give in to shock and exhaustion. Everything fades to gray, then black.

"Miss? Miss!" A rude hand intrudes, shaking my shoulder persistently. My head snaps up.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Miss, are you going to buy one of those? Or just stare at them all day?" the video store clerk snidely quips, indicating the Stargate and Swiss Family Robinson DVD's I am clutching.
"Er. I'll take this one," I mumble abashedly, handing him the Stargate DVD and follow him to the register.
I really need to get a life.
The End

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  Hawk50 Nancy Bailey Carrie AnnO  
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Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a parody for entertainment purposes only. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted anywhere without the consent of the author.