Strange Encounters
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Title: Strange Encounters
Author: Ky (Venom_69)
Fandom: Stargate
Category: This is a class all on it's own, seriously...
Pairing: Daniel/Vala-ish Sam/Jack-ish Thor/Isis
Rating: Age Friendly.
Summary: ”Very funny Scotty, now beam down my clothes.”
Archive: My site. Anywhere else, sure, just let me know where so I can come visit.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, never will. Promise to put them back in the state I found them. Song’s not mine either. That would belong to Jimmy Barnes.
Author’s notes: Holy f*ckbuckets… that’s all I’m saying. Written for [info]napalm_isis
Date: 16/09/06
Copyright to Venom, 2006


Like a man with no home
I just don’t belong
I can’t help it when your love is gone
And it’s all I can do
To carry on
I can’t help it when your love is gone


The thing that one must try to remember is that love knows no barriers.

Men have been in love with all sorts of things over the development of humanity. They have loved beer, sports, repeatedly checking their crotches to ensure that their equipment is still present, hot women in school girl outfits with ribbons in their hair. Ahem.

Though, in fairness to the weaker sex, men are not the only ones to succumb to the weakness that is love.

Women, too, have loved. Shoes, cookies, nails, hair, discussing their partners err… shortcomings, expensive jewellery.

A man’s best friend (thusly, someone they love) is a dog. A woman’s best friend (thusly, something they love) are diamonds.

While it is tempting – and horrifically easy – to point out the obvious difference in intelligence in the sexes as pointed out in the above statement, this is not the point that I am attempting to make.

Love, as defined by the ‘research’ function of Microsoft word, is to feel tender affection for somebody, for example a close relative or friend, or for something such as a place, an ideal, or an animal.

I have learnt to be tolerant - Shut UP, Daniel! I can be tolerant - of love in other species. I am aware that love, while perhaps being something best saved for Earth’s soap operas, is also an ideal that is universally held.

Daniel calls me a cynic.

He is reading over my shoulder as I type this and commenting on what I have to say on the subject.

It’s my first mission report, will somebody please give me a break?

Now Daniel says that I need to be specific and not philosophical. He says that I need to relay the facts and not focus on the emotional impact of our adventure. If your eyes had seen what mine have been forced to witness, you would not be so quick to judge.

You would, however, be quick to reach for a bottle of bleach. (See my fancy human reference there? The General will like it, I’m sure… what do you mean I’m going to need to put bullet point summaries on this thing?)


It started in a galaxy far, far away… OK.

So it started when we were beamed up to an Asguard ship.

The Teal’c, I think.

I had been about to take a shower and was in the process of undoing my pants. This, however, went unnoticed. Hmph.

We were greeted by Thor, as he was later introduced to me, who looked just about as smug as an expressionless – but kind of cute – miniature grey alien can. One of his big, black, eyes may have even slipped down into a wink, but I can’t be certain.

He said, “Greeting.”

So I said, “Hello.”

It was a particularly beautiful moment.

“Hey Thor.” General O’Neill waved. He was shirtless – not bad, I must say – so no one wanted to ask where he’d been at the time of beam up.

Oh – I know. ”Very funny Scotty, now beam down my clothes.” Hee. Teal’c taught me that one. He’s a closet Tracker (Tekkie? Tacky? Something.) and while he favours Voyager, something about a Bun Of Steel, he’s seen every episode of every Star Trek and has imparted his wisdom on me.

I’m getting sidetracked.

“Greetings, O’Neill.” Thor said and I swear to something holy that the little guy grinned.

“How ya doin’?”

“I am well. And yourself?”

“Oh, you know. No complaints.”

“That is pleasant to hear.”

I guess the little guy took lessons in small talk.

“So, Thor, buddy, why’d you beam us up? Need someone to save a world again? Cause, you know, that’s not really my deal anymore.”

Mitchell raised his hand. “No, I do that now.”

“Indeed.” I think Teal’c growled.

“No, O’Neill. I have requested your presence to witness The Bonding.”

I immediately grinned. “Bondage? You know, I have a lovely collar that would look great with your skin…”

“Shut up.”

“Daniel, that’s not nice.”

“I know. Shut up.”


That boy is begging to be spanked.

*happy place*

“Thor…” Ah, Carter. The voice of reason. Who appears to be wearing smudged make-up. Interesting. “What’s The Bonding?”

“I believe it is something akin to your marriages on Earth.”

O’Neill coughed. Or perhaps choked on his own tongue. “You’re getting married?

I thought it was kinda sweet, personally.


Once we’d established that, yes, he was getting married, it appeared to be time to get the show on the road. The Asguard don’t really seem to be a patient race, I must say.

While Thor was going over what would be required of each person present, apparently I was required to stand there and look pretty (Daniel snorted at this, I’ll neuter him later), I went for a bit of a wander.

Lots of hallways, lots of grey. Not particularly inspiring.

Though the ship had lots of shiny things and flashing buttons on it and I was determined to find the big red button that says “Do not press.” Daniel said I couldn’t touch anything, though.

Yeah, right.

The ship was quite big – size matters, apparently – and it wasn’t long before I was forced to admit that I was geographically challenged.

OK, I was lost.

There were no other little grey guys floating - do they really have the ability to float? Note to self: Ask Carter. - around so I couldn’t even ask for directions. Which I totally would have.

No, really.


While not being able to find anyone/anything that looked like he/she/it could help me, I did, however, manage to stumble across a rather normal looking brunette.

Or rather, I ran into her and almost ended up on my ass.

“Who’re you?” She was raising her eyebrow at me. I suspect Teal'c had been giving her lessons.

“I’m Vala. Who’re you?”


“The Egyptian Goddess?”

She looked at me like I was nuts. “No… the human female.”

“Your mother named you Isis?”

“Napalm, actually. Isis is my middle name.”

OK then. “Right… thanks for sharing. Why are you on the ship?”

“My wedding is going to be held here.”

I figured we could worry about the disclosure issue in a moment. “Are you having a double wedding with Thor?”

“No… I’m his bride.”

Oh for the love of perfectly straight hair.


The wedding itself was strangely… well, strange.

Daniel says that he is going to cover the details in his own report (And he’ll teach me how to put a link in here so if this is read on computer you can automatically click it and up will pop his report… nifty little buggers, these computers.) as it was a “fascinatingly beautiful event.”




They had a reception on the main Bridge.

Thor had food laid out – the yellow ones looked good, Carter said not to eat them – and some liquid in varying colours. No one was really game enough to try that either.

I know that it’s custom to give gifts at Earth weddings but we were a little short on presents… or clothes, for that matter. (Though someone had beamed O’Neill up a shirt before the ‘big moment.’)

Mitchell had a deck of playing cards in his pocket and that was offered up at the main gift, it was the best that any of us could do at short notice, though I think I heard someone mention that Carter should offer her bra… Thor seemed to think the cards were something wonderful.

If only he’d know that she was wearing black lace today!


Oh God.

I’m sure that Isis is very nice and all, but the mental images associated with the “you may now kiss the bride” part of the ceremony had, by this point, made it impossible for me to look at her with a straight face… Actually, I was pretty sure I’d never be able to eat again.

“Yes, my love?”

“I think it’s time for you to give me my gift now.”

Thor looked uncomfortable, if it was possibly. “I was unaware that a gift was required.”

“I’m your bride.”


“We just got married.”


This was going to end in bloodshed, I could feel it.

“And you didn’t get me a gift?”

“If there anything that you desire, dearest?” Unlike most newly married men, Thor could at least beam something up from Wal-Mart if it was necessary…

“I was hoping you’d get me a studded collar.” She pouted. The woman actually pouted.

“Would that not be considered an inappropriate gift?”

"Yes… But Daniel got one for Vala!!!"

I saw 4 heads turn to look back and forth between Daniel and I while we both willed the floor to open up and swallow us.



And that, dear reader, is what happened.

As you can clearly derive from the above, I have been traumatised beyond the standard of the Geneva Convention and I will either now require extensive therapy or a really fast car.

Preferably purple.


So… how’d I do?






Disclaimer: While the basic events of this report are mostly true, there may be slight exaggerations. Any similarities to any person living and/or dead and/or ascended is completely intended and should not be taken lightly. While the above events have taken place, this report will self destruct in approximately 30 seconds to avoid any potentially incriminating evidence being used against the author in a court of law or a commissary debate.

Oh, and I like Chevy’s.

Just saying.