Notes and disclaimers in part 0/19 Chapter 13 "Did she just say...?" Methos glanced at O'Neill, not quite through indulging his shock. "Uh huh," he nodded. "She just gave you rank?" "Uh huh." "And you're just standing here?" "Uh huh." O'Neill's face was unreadable, but his eyes flashed with anger. "Well, get your ass up there before she changes her mind!" "Uh uh." "Are you insane?!" he whispered. "That's an order, Pierson!" Methos shook his head fiercely and looked back at Quinta, who was waiting patiently for some response. Not at all like her, he thought, confused. But then, he really didn't know her, did he? "Greetings, Quinta," he finally said, giving her a half nod in lieu of bowing. "I thank you for your generous offer, but I have other obligations which at this time do not allow me to accept the honor so graciously accorded." "Of course you do," she gushed, a little flustered, gesturing discreetly as she allowed the court to rise. "My apologies, Mr. President." Jack's loud snort of laughter quickly turned into a hacking cough. But Methos was too stunned to do more than stare wildly at the other man as he pounded his back. Mr. President?! How the hell had she come up with that?! "Forgive him, Quinta," Methos temporized. "Colonel O'Neill hasn't been well since we last parted company." "I see," she nodded. "Your most trusted advisor is, of course, given leave to excuse himself," she offered. "Thank you," Methos sighed. "Get out now!" he muttered just as Jack was getting himself back under control. "Not necessary," he smiled at Quinta, ignoring Methos' icy glare. "I'm perfectly fine. Wouldn't miss this for the world." Quinta nodded graciously, returning to her seat. "Now, may we discuss the terms of our alliance?" Methos heaved a silent sigh of despair as Jack cleared his throat, obviously suppressing another bout of hysterical laughter. The whole situation was ludicrous, he thought. He wasn't about to negotiate anything with Quinta -- not if he could help it. But maybe he could disabuse her of this bizarre notion. She seemed reasonable enough. "First," he began. "I'd like to know how you came to the conclusion that I am the President?" Quinta leaned back against the throne and smiled. "You are very clever, Methos. Having your people tell mine that you did not negotiate such important matters face to face. That the details must be worked out by underlings. Then, coming yourself to observe my fleet. To see with your own eyes whether I was worthy to be your ally. Still, you are our father's son. And yet..." she added slyly, obliquely referring to his assassination of Inanna. "A man who would do as you and I know you have done... Such a man would have to be true to his Immortal nature. To rule over his mortal flocks, as I do mine. Only that man would have the right to ascend the throne of Tok'ra and rule beside me." "Fascinating," Methos responded with a tight smile, hearing the undercurrent of threat couched in her words. "Just play along," O'Neill advised quietly and Methos nodded. "So," he smirked cruelly. "What did you have in mind?" *** "Marriage," Methos croaked in horror as the door closed and he fell limply into the nearest chair. When he had lost the ability to speak he couldn't recall. Probably after Quinta's strategic "proposal" had been announced. Luckily, O'Neill had immediately asked for a private room to discuss matter. And now, Jack was snickering. "I see what you mean about 'marry the girl or die.'" Methos glared furiously at the other man. "It's not funny, O'Neill! She's mad!" "About you!" Jack smirked. "You don't get it, do you?" Methos hissed angrily. "She doesn't just want a partner. She wants a partner in crime!" "Oh, come on, Mr. President," O'Neill grinned. "She seems okay. A little nutty, yeah. Way off on her facts. But--" "Will you listen to me!" Methos growled in frustration. "She a sociopath looking for a leader. Ever hear of tandem serial killers, Jack?" He watched as the other man's face grew still. "I don't know when she discovered Inanna murdered Tok'ra, or when she first came up with the idea of getting rid of her. But she didn't kill Inanna, Jack. And not because she didn't have the means at her disposal, but because she was incapable of striking down her control. Can't you see? Quinta needs to be led! And now that she views me as more powerful than Inanna..." He shook his head and turned away. "That's why she was looking for me." O'Neill watched him thoughtfully for a long moment. "I do get it, Pierson," he said soberly. "The question is, can you control her?" Methos pursed his lips. "Probably. She's a dog looking for a master and she already believes I'm it. But she's also a gun waiting to go off, Jack. Eventually, I'd have to point her at something." "We'll worry about aiming her later. For now," he smiled wryly. "You two kids get married." "What?!" Methos stood up so fast he nearly fell out of the chair. It was obvious now that Quinta had never felt any real familial affection for him. And why should she have? But still he had to admit, "She's my sister! And I've never even liked her much!" "So," Jack held up his hands, "we make it a sham marriage. You know, affairs of state, but you never do the wild thing. Just don't tell her that. I think she's kinda got the hots for you, Pierson." Methos grimaced in disgust. Quinta's need for him aside, in one sense there was no moral injunction among Immortals against siblings marrying -- although he'd never heard of such a thing, even if the sibling was mortal. There was, after all, no actual biological connection, nor the problem of incestuous offspring. Still, the psychological taboos were just as pertinent as those of mortals raised in the same cultural environment. It was unhealthy to say the least. At worst it was perverse. And yet, he'd seen plenty of royal siblings marry over the centuries and that had never bothered him. But this... For him? Methos' skin crawled just thinking about it. "I can't," he shook his head, shocked that O'Neill would even suggest such a thing. The social stigma against incest in the modern era was just as powerful as it had ever been. "You can," Jack insisted. "Because we also tell her it needs witnesses. All the formal stuff. That way, she's got to contact Hammond. We get a team in and a way out at the same time. And she thinks you're the President, right?" Witnesses? Hammond? "This is a nightmare!" Methos groaned, slumping back in his chair and covering his eyes. "And what the hell does her thinking I'm the President have to do with anything?" "He's got a job on Earth, right? A very important job." Methos lowered his hands and slowly nodded. "She does think I'm in charge. And she probably wouldn't interfere with that. But... Jack, she'd expect me to come back from time to time," he added nervously. "Screw that!" O'Neill told him. "We tell her there's an emergency, get you home and Quinta can kiss your skinny ass goodbye!" Methos hurriedly considered the idea. If he worked it right, made her think she'd insulted his honor or something, she might not even consider chasing him down once he was gone. "All right," he finally nodded. "I'll play Caesar to her Cleopatra. Let's just hope," he added at Jack's questioning glance, "there's no Mark Anthony around." *** "Another incoming signal from the Ishri, General. Do we respond?" Hammond frowned at the console. "We said there'd be no alliance, what more do these people want?" he muttered. "Uh, sir," the technician interrupted. "There's something odd coming through with it. Sounds like Morse Code." "Let's here it." The repetitive tapping sounded over the loudspeakers drawing the attention of everyone in operations. Behind them, one of younger technicians finally muttered, "What the hell is 'the good ship lollipop'?" Hammond suddenly laughed. "Son, it's the answer to a prayer! Sergeant," he ordered the technician. "Establish visual contact with the Ishri fleet." "But, sir, our orders..." "Our orders state that we are not to contact the Ishri. I don't believe there was anything in there about them contacting us. Remember, we have two people missing in their space and at least one of them is trying to reach us. And I guarantee you, it isn't Shirley Temple. You there," he turned to another tech as the first worked the controls. "Get Dr. Jackson and Major Carter down here now." A few moments later, just as Daniel and Carter were entering the operations center, the signal clarified into something more than static, as a hoped for, but despaired of image, at last revealed itself. Seated on what looked like a giant marble love seat were Methos and an unidentified woman, while standing beside them was the colonel. "It's them," Daniel whispered. "They're all right." Carter nodded as a palpable amount of tension drained from the room. In the days since that last transmission from O'Neill, too many questions had remained unanswered as their estimated time of arrival had come and gone. Had they been captured? Killed? Or were they simply unable to make contact? "Greetings from Ishri central!" the colonel announced, surprising every one as he broke protocol by not allowing the general to speak first. "General Hammond," he went on. "I have the great pleasure to announce to the world the impending nuptial bliss of our beloved President Methos and Supreme Leader Quinta of the Ishri Empire." "President? Methos?" Hammond uttered. This couldn't be a joke, he thought. Even O'Neill had his limits. "And here's the great man himself to say a few words on the subject." The Immortal in question sank deep into his chair, pressing the bridge of his nose with one hand as he shook his head. "Or, maybe not," O'Neill shrugged. "Anyway, wedding's set for.. Well, as soon as you guys arrive. Right here on the good ship Lollipop. And as you know, according to our ancient custom -- begun by the High Priests of the Mukluks in Emerald City when the moon was in the seventh house and Venus aligned with Mars -- all Presidential weddings must be witnessed by the finest contingent of our glorious President's very own Imperial Immortal Guard." Eyes bulging with the effort not to laugh, Hammond nodded in understanding. "Of course it must, Colonel. And may I tender my sincerest congratulations on your upcoming nuptials, Mr. President." No one did sullen better than Methos, he thought, silently laughing as the Immortal waved a hand in disgust. "Just make the arrangements," Methos sneered. "And be quick about it, or I'll have your stars! And don't forget to send my ruby slippers!" he added with a growl. "Certainly, Your Presidentialness!" At that, Hammond mentally added a sword to the list of ordinance he'd be including -- along with a pair of oversized ruby slippers from the costume shop he'd taken his granddaughter to the previous Halloween. Suddenly, Quinta began to speak and Daniel stepped forward to translate. "She's says she's sending a single transport ship through the combat gate outside our system to pick up the witnesses, who are most welcome. And she looks forward to sharing a mutually beneficial relationship with the subjects of Earth as we fight the Goa'uld together." Hammond cleared his throat. "Tell her we'll get back to her on that. Once we've made suitable arrangements of course." No way was he putting his people on one of her ships. Maybe the Tok'ra would be willing to loan them one of their transports which Teal'c could fly. Daniel translated the general's message and Quinta nodded at her husband to be. "Again I congratulate you on the cleverness of your subordinates, my bro--" Daniel stumbled over the last word as he saw Methos cringe and swallowed his shock. "Sorry, General, didn't get that last word. Probably a colloquial endearment." Thankfully, Hammond looked disinterested. A moment later, after being given leave to break off the contact, General Hammond stood back and sighed. "Major Carter. Dr. Jackson. Conference room. Now! And have someone contact Teal'c and Sergeant Bear."