Tarnished Heroes
A Daniel Jackson
Stargate SG-1
Adult FanFiction Series
By
Moon Mistress
a/k/a Lisa Beth Darling

Chapter Twenty-Five

The Risin’

Bruce Springsteen

**

From the Independent Film Session 9;

Voice Over;

Therapist to “Simon” an Alternate Personality

“Simon” A Mass Murderer and Alternate Personality to “Mary”

**

Wednesday Afternoon

Planet Earth

Greenbrier, Colorado

The shower was very helpful and made her feel as well as smell better. Andy was waiting for Calla in the living room with a pot of fresh brewed coffee when she came down the stairs. “There you are, love, now let’s have a look at you. Turn ‘round.” Calla did as he asked. “Very nice, much better. Come here and lay your head in my lap.”

“Excuse me?” She’d started to sober up and didn’t like the double meaning in the statement.

“Your eyes are all red and puffy, come; I’ll take care of it before your children come home.” Andy pulled a small bottle of Visine from his pocket and smiled. “If you lay in my lay it will go easier.” He explained. “That’s right, come on over here.” He coaxed.

The aroma of the fresh coffee was heavenly and she couldn’t wait to get a sip of that but she did want to keep her…well…her little indiscretions to herself and away from her children. After last night, Calla became acutely aware of what a lousy job she was doing. Each day that she slipped a little further away from the Real World and succumbed to that circus on the television and her self-imposed imprisonment, it got harder and harder to use her magick and keep the children in the dark. If there was something from the Mortal World which could aid her then Calla was all for it. There was no need for the children to know what she’d been up to. They had far too many suspicions already; young people should not be burdened by having to take care of a lunatic parent. Lying down on the couch, she put her head in Andy’s lap.

“That’s a girl, take a breath and look that way.” Andy pointed at the fireplace and dropped two drops of the clear liquid into each green eye. “Just stay there for a moment, dahling. Let it work its way in, that’s right.” Andy stroked her head and her forehead. “Close your eyes for a minute, love. They’ll feel good in no time.” Once again, she did just as he asked and closed her eyes. The clear drops were cool and felt soothing to her tired bloodshot eyes. Lying in his lap, Andy played with her hair. He’d had a good long time to wander around the first floor of Chez Jackson and take in all it had to offer while she showered including all of the photographs of the happy family of four in the entryway and on the walls. Photographs of the son, Nicholas, in his baseball uniform and the daughter, Colleen, accepting an award of some kind—the awards themselves were probably in the kids’ rooms—were on the walls along with baby pictures of the twins. More photographs of Doctor and Professor happily smiling, touching, holding hands were on the mantle. That was just the living room. The room which looked like The Husband’s office there were more photographs and more books than he could count on the floor to ceiling shelves. More artifacts in here; pots, swords, masks, more pots, some type of utensils and statutes, Andy didn’t really know what any of them were but was quickly reminded that The Husband was an archeologist and Andy still didn’t know exactly when The Husband was coming home. “There, all better now, you can sit up if you like.” Calla looked up at him with clearer eyes. “Look at you all fresh faced.”

“I never wear make-up.” She said and sat up. “Coffee?” Calla walked away and came back with two cups along with creamer and sugar bowl on a tray. “Thank you for your help.”

“Oh, I’m not done yet, love.” Andy crooned and took the cup of coffee, black, from the tray. “Look what I’ve got for you.” On the coffee table were four neat white lines of powder. “This’ll fix you right up.”

“What is it?” Calla asked as she added the sugar and cream to her coffee and then took a sip.

“Coke.” Andy said politely. Well, her husband certainly kept her well sheltered, didn’t he? Not that he’d blame the bloke any. “Like this watch me.” Andy took a short clear straw, which was also on the table, put one end in his nose and the other on the beginning of one white line. He sniffed it back in one inhale. “Now you try.” He handed Calla the straw. She took it but just twirled it around in her fingertips while she contemplated her next move. “Go on, it’ll wake you up and give you an energy boost.”

That sounded good. She could use a good boost. As she saw Andy do, Calla put one end into her nose and the other on the white line she inhaled it in one sniff. “OH!” She cried out as the powder burned her nostrils and she dropped the straw. Her hands came up to her face and it reddened instantly.

“Give it a moment, love, trust me, you won’t mind that the second time.” Andy encouraged and drank his java. “Ready?” He asked and bent over to do the second line before she could protest. Sniff. Up it went and he handed the straw to her. “Don’t worry; if you get too buzzed we’ll just smoke a joint to calm you down.”

Andy had pot. She didn’t. Calla took the straw and hastily drew the last line up the other nostril. WOW! Not like pot. Not like pills or booze. This stuff had a punch that, as Andy told her, packed with energy. Calla didn’t feel tired anymore now she wanted to do something. “That’s good stuff.” She remarked with a wink.

“I thought you’d like it.” Andy returned with a smile. “So tell me, how are you holding up, dahling? Have you heard anything from Daniel?”

“Nothing,” she said sadly. “I guess I’m doing as well as can be expected.”

“Doing lots of painting, I hope. Get your frustrations out, dear.” Andy sipped off the coffee again. “You can’t spend anymore time looking at that rouge site. Who would do such a thing?” He wondered aloud. “Have you any idea where they got that…ah…footage?”

Calla was suddenly bursting with energy and found herself in a chatty mood, should he ask the right questions that was. “No.”

“That’s a shame. It’s awful really just dreadful.” Andy sympathized. “What you and your husband do is your business, so what if you taped it a few times?”

Ah, the right question. “Daniel and I didn’t tape ourselves making love,” she said and curled up on the couch next to him. “David did it.”

“David?” Andy inquired. He’d always wondered how that site came to be and now was his chance to find out. “Who’s David, dahling?”

“Daniel’s brother, twin brother.” She clarified and held the warm cup to her lips. “He bugged our house and broadcast our lives live over the Internet.”

“Ah,” Andy gasped, “the monster!” His hand landed on her knee. “That’s really just a horrible thing to do, isn’t it, love?”

“Yes, I understand he made a good deal of money from that site.”

“So it’s David who’s put this site up?”

“He’s dead.” Calla said. “David died years ago, Daniel killed him.” Since Daniel was off world, it really couldn’t be David. “They tell me it’s someone who downloaded and saved those files all these years and they’ve put this site up again.”

Yes, David had charged and Andy spent quite a few shillings on that site downloading those files but it was worth every halfpence.

“Can’t someone shut it down?”

“They’re trying but they’re not having any luck.”

“I’m sorry, dahling, but did you say Daniel killed his twin brother?” Andy said easily, as easily as that hand was sliding up her thigh. “Over this site?”

“More than that, David was a very bad man.” She said slowly. “Very bad,” Calla pushed her hair aside and took another sip from the coffee the cup was almost empty. “He pretended to be Daniel he kidnapped me and tried to take me away.”

“The scoundrel!” Andy cried. “So then your Daniel is really your Knight in Shining Armor, isn’t he, love?”

“Yes he is. It was all a very long time ago. Do you have any more of that?”

“I believe I do, love.” Andy opened the black zippered case again. “Anything else I can do for you?”

”You know that, I, well, I like to smoke.” She paused and he nodded. “Well, I’m out and the press is everywhere…..”

“You want weed?” Andy laughed. “Sure, love. I’ll have it here for you by morning; in the meantime you can keep some of mine, hey?” Among other happy items, the little zippered case contained an ordinary film canister. There was no film in it just pot and he put a few good-sized buds down on the table for her. “That’ll hold ya ‘til morning.” Andy’s little case had two amber bottles, one with a small spoon and one with a dropper top. He took the one with the small spoon and white powder and cut up three more lines on the coffee table. “There ya go, one and a half each.” He handed her the straw.

“I don’t suppose you have any of those lovely mushrooms?” Sniff. Up it went. While it still stung her nose and made her want to sneeze, Andy was right it did get easier with practice.

“I’ll tell you what, love” Andy sighed, “you show me some of your paintings and I’ll see what I can do about that as well. Deal?” Andy‘s line went up his nose and they split the last one. Calla looked around for something to put the fresh buds in and Andy handed her a cigarette pack, it had three cigarettes left in it. “You keep them.” Calla put the buds into the crush-proof box and then slipped it into her pocket.

They went up to the attic and she showed Andy the paintings she had but Calla hadn’t been working on anything new, well not very much, she did have one painting on the easel

Oh, damn! She dashed across the room to cover her work-in-progress but was too late.

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about, dahling!” Andy gushed and held his hands out to the easel. “Yes, very good indeed!”

“It’s not finished.” She stammered and reached for the drop cloth.

“That’s Daniel, isn’t it?” Andy asked suddenly.

“What?” Why would he think Daniel was in the painting? “No, it’s…” she looked at the canvas. How did that happen? She’d been working on a rather bleak depiction of her night with Kanan’s Guards. It was supposed be a woman surrounded by twenty-five men but instead there was Daniel in the midst of twenty-five naked women. They were all lusting after him while he guzzled wine from a gold chalice his naked body shining in the full moonlight. Each woman had dark hair, dark eyes, full round hips that matched fuller rounder breasts. Calla threw the cloth over the canvas. “Like I said, it’s not finished.”

“Well hurry up, I can’t wait to see it when it’s done. It’s very erotic.” Andy said coyly. Yes, he’d have to bring her more of those mushrooms and show her how to make tea. “When’s he coming back anyway?”

“Monday.”

“Mom? You up there?” Nicholas called from the doorway on the second floor. There was a strange car in the driveway when he pulled in and an unwelcome scent in the air of his house.

“Yes up here, Nicholas.” She called back. “How do I look?” Calla asked quickly as she heard Nick’s heavy footsteps coming toward them.

“Fine,” Andy muttered and gave her the thumbs-up just as the big boy came through the door.

“Hi,” Calla said nervously and held her arms for her customary hug. “How was your day?”

Walking into the room the scent was strongest and his dark eyes focused on Hartley, Nicholas’ nostrils flared in the air. “Hi, Mom. Who’s your friend?” He came in close for the hug she wanted.

“Nicholas I’d like you to meet Andrew Hartley. Andrew this is my son, Nicholas.” She introduced the two men and they shook hands.

The boy had a heck of a grip. “Nice to meet you Nicholas.” Andrew said in an almost painful tone.

“You too. I think I’ve….” He sniffed the air, “met you before. Something about you is…” another sniff of the air… “familiar.”

“I missed you in New York I’m afraid.” The mood was suddenly tense, Andy didn’t like the way the oversized teenager was looking at him. “I should probably be going and let you get on with your evening.” He said to Nicholas and then turned to Calla. “I’m going to be in town for a few days so I want to see your gallery while I’m here, yes?”

“Sure we can go tomorrow if you like.” Calla agreed. “It’s not open right now….”

“Not open? For heavens’ sake! Why not?”

“I sort of got swamped….” She muttered.

“Well, duh!” Andy intoned. “You’re letting money just pass you by. Open ‘er up, dahling! Strike while the irons’ hot.”

“If I do business with you, will you take care of all of that for me?”

“Of course, love! That’s what agents are for to run interference and deal with the details.” Andy reached out and gave her a very warm friendly hug. Behind him, Nicholas cleared his throat. “Night, love. See you tomorrow. No need, I’ll show myself out.” Andy turned to Nicholas for the last time. “It was nice to have met you, Nicholas.” He held his hand out once more. This time when Nick shook it, he did so in a more gentlemanly manner.

“You too.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner, Andy?” Calla asked suddenly.

Andrew mulled it over a few moments, Nicholas was shooting daggers at him with those dark eyes and Andy didn’t know why that should be. They hadn’t met before. “No, but, what if I take you out to dinner?” He suggested. “You have to get out of this house, love.”

“I’m afraid it would be you, me and the press.” She quipped with a sad smile.

“Offer’s still on the table, love. What do you think, a night out? I’ll pick you up at seven?” Calla didn’t say yes and she didn’t say no but she gave an almost unnoticeable nod in Andy’s direction. With a smile, the Englishman made his way through the attic door.

Nick listened hard while he went down the second floor steps and out the front door, he didn’t stop listening until he heard the car start up and then back off down the drive way. “What are you doing?” He asked his mother. “Like you didn’t spend enough time with him in New York you have to go out to dinner with him here?”

“I don’t know why you’re being so rude but I don’t like your tone and I don’t owe you any explanations, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“The TV and papers have already got you and him hot and heavy in the sack.” Personally, Nicholas understood why, Hartley was rich, successful, single and good looking. Calla was shy, introverted, successful, beautiful and married. A match made in Media Heaven. If his Mother was cheating on his Father, the least she could do was be a little more discreet about it. “What do you think they’re going to do when you go off to dinner with him?”

“Eat it up?” She challenged. “Fuck them.” Her tone turned defiant. “They’re only Mortals, we’re not like them. Why should I let them keep me prisoner in my own home?” Seemed the coke gave more than energy it made her a little brazen as well. Secretly she hoped Andy had more of it and would share it with after dinner this evening, perhaps along with a cup or two of that lovely tea. “Why should I care what they have to say about me?”

“Where is this coming from?” Nick asked in shock. “Where the hell is my Mother?”

“Are you blind?” She shot at him.

“Why should you care? I dunno….” Nick stammered, “how about how it affects Cole and me, we’re taking a bunch of heat at school….ya know…..how about, I dunno…DAD when he comes home!!” He was no longer stammering but shouting clearly.

“You forget your place, Son.” Calla spat. “If the time comes I may owe your Father an explanation but not you.” She pushed past him but Nicholas seized her wrist in a harsh grip.

“One more pill, one more toke, one more shot and you wouldn’t have been on my floor last night, you would have crawled into my bed.”

“Wouldn’t you have been the lucky boy?” She quipped in a nasty voice. “We’re not like them.” Calla hissed. “Wasn’t it you who offered to take me into your bed this morning? Did my refusal sting? Jealous Nicholas? It doesn’t suit you.”

“When I said you could sleep in my bed I didn’t mean it like THAT.” Nick roared and tightened his grip. Dad wasn’t here and Mom was spinning way out of control, he had to do something to reign her in. “I’m not gonna let ya go out with that creep he only wants one thing from you. But the bloody Brits’ already gotten it, hasn’t he? And now he wants mo…..”

The loud crack from the palm of her free hand across his face almost sent him into an uncontrollable rage. “I don’t believe you did that.” Nicholas gasped and rubbed his sore cheek with his free hand. Corporal punishment was never allowed in the Jackson Household and that was the first time since they were born that she’d struck either of her children in anger or otherwise. Calla had to jump up to slap his face but that didn’t stop her.

“You’re not a boy any longer, you want to talk like a man, act like a man then take your licks like one too.” Calla twisted, wriggled, and tried to pull her wrist free of his grasp. “I’m tired of being alone in this house! Let me go or I’ll force you to let go.”

“You already hit me and now….” He stopped and looked down into those eyes staring so defiantly back at him and his stare narrowed with defiance of their own. “Callestah, are you threatening me? Are you that far gone?” Nick bent at the waist to look her in the eye and tightened his grip just a little more and watched her wince in pain. “’Cause I wouldn’t do that if I were you, I know you’re not stupid, Lady. Don’t push me.”

“Good advice, why don’t you take it?” Well she was well aware that Nicholas made for a fine opponent and that he was even capable of besting her especially in her present condition. “I’ll give you a run for your money, boy. Now let me go. I’ve a dinner date to get ready for.” Her lips barely moved but her words were clear as crystal. Nick dropped her wrist.

Screw this shit, he didn’t need it. Maybe it was high time someone gave Dad a little competition, at the very least maybe it would wake him up. From the way he caught her looking at the Brit he was just the guy to do it. “Fine, if that’s the way you want it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, you’re just as pigheaded as Colleen. We’ll see how Dad feels about your new friend when he gets home.”

“Yes, I suppose we will.” Calla turned her back and left the attic.

Andy didn’t want to share Calla with the spotlight or her ill-tempered son tonight he wanted her all to himself. Therefore, they drove down to Crystal Lake where they had a picnic supper and watched the sunset behind the mountains. Always the consummate gentleman, Andy brought a wicker basket filled with finger foods, plates, utensils, glasses and bottles of wine along with a wool blanket that they spread out on the ground. The evening was warm as the moon rose and the entire night Andy was very charming and kept a steady supply of illicit drugs coming her way. They started the evening with a little cocaine and Chardonnay. After dinner they moved on to weed and whisky. Happily buzzed she stretched out on the blanket and laid her head in his lap. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Andy asked and ran his hand down her back.

“A wonderful stress free evening.” Calla sighed.

“Not a problem, love. After the last few days, dahling, you deserve it.” He clinked his full shot glass against her and down the hatch they both went. “So you’re going to let me into your gallery tomorrow right, love? Let me have a look at things and straighten them out for you.”

“If you wish but I don’t know why you want to bother.” Cuddling against the warmth and weight of him although she knew she shouldn’t become accustomed to such things, Calla closed her eyes and breathed in deep of the night air. She shouldn’t lay here in his lap in his arms, Daniel would be very furious if he found her this way and he’d have every right to be. Not to mention the fact that she had enough damage control to conduct when he did come home. Still, Daniel wasn’t here and sometimes Human Touch can be so grounding, it can make all of Life’s Problems fade away even if just for a little while.

“I told you, you’ve got to strike while the iron is hot. You are a very hot commodity right now, Professor Jackson. Why should all those bloody vultures cash in—on you, I might add-- and you be the one that’s left out in the cold?” Reaching over he picked up the flask of Seagram’s and filled her shot glass. “You should call a press conference of your own, stop running from them and use them to your own advantage.”

“You know a lot more about this stuff than I do.” She sighed.

“That’s why you should hire me.” Andy quipped. “Go on, bottoms up.” He took down his shot and she took down hers.

“I don’t suppose you’ve any of that….”

“Tea?” Andy asked brightly as he gazed at the stars and full moon above, the lapping of the lake. It was all very romantic. “I thought you’d never inquire.” He sat up and took the thermos from the picnic basket he poured two cups of the steeply stewed brew. The mushrooms had been sitting in there for almost two hours so unlike the light tincture she drank the other night, this should be quite potent. Far away from the press, pictures, the Internet and that brute Nicholas, he handed a cup over to her. “It’s still warm, careful.”

Sitting up on the blanket her shoes off and her hair down the simple cotton skirt rode up her thigh as Calla took the porcelain cup from his hand with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Always glad to help.” Andy commented with a smile as he took a long drink of the warm bitter tea and so did Calla. It was a lovely late spring night Andy had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves long ago. Now he kicked off his own shoes and turned on his side to look at her. In the moonlight, that soft round thigh taunted him it just begged him to reach out and run his fingertips along its curve. Something in her eyes did the same. So he did. Her skin was the softest smoothest thing his hand had ever touched upon. Last Saturday night he had her naked and under him on the couch in his brownstone. Calla hadn’t been herself then, she’d been passed out and unaware of what he was doing. Tonight was different. Andy drank down the last of the tea in his cup and waited. Just as he knew she would, Calla followed him and settled the empty teacup on the ground.

“I want to see you,” Andy whispered and pushed the hem of the skirt higher on her thigh.

“We shouldn’t…” Calla said softly.

Andy’s kiss cut off her words. “There’s no shame in reaching out.” Andy told her and brushed the hair away from her face. Taking her small hand in his own he brought it down to the hard place between his legs. “I want you, love.” Andy’s lips brushed over her lips. “Want to touch you,” those lips were covering her neck and his fingers were fumbling with the hem of the white cotton shirt covering her. “I want to taste you, make love to you.” The shirt slid up her body and over her head.

She shouldn’t, she knew she shouldn’t. But the feel of his hand was very nice and the tea was making her head spin and then… “Promise you won’t tell?”

“I’ll take it to my grave, I swear.”

Andy was slimmer than Daniel was but just as tall and if she closed her eyes maybe…

With one hand, he reached under her and unsnapped the white silk bra. Andy slid it over her arms and tossed it over in the grass with the blouse. “Those photographs don’t do you justice, love.” He whispered. His lips closed down over a hard nipple and Callas’ hand closed down over the back of his head.

“I can’t do this,” she moaned. “Andy please..”

“Yes you can.” Andy told her. “It’s all right, everything’s all right.” His hand reached under the skirt and up the space between her legs. “Come on, dahling, give it to me.”

“No,” her voice was weak and her mind and body filled with the hallucinogenic tea. Andy didn’t wait for her to give it up one hand firmly pushed one thigh away from the other. Her eyes rolled open as he smiled over her, his hand running endlessly over the bald patch between her legs.

“I really like that, love.” He said expectantly. “Very sexy, I can’t wait to slide my tongue in there.” The palm of his hand on that soft triangle, Andy’s fingers below, he pushed his index digit into her. Calla’s back arched.

“No,” she said again and opened her eyes. Andy was smiling down at her.

“Yes, say yes.” He coaxed.

“No,” Calla asserted in a stronger voice and tried to sit up.

Perhaps he should have made the tea stronger or dosed it with the Rohypnol that worked so well on her Saturday night. Little minx was trying to get away from him. Andrew Hartley hadn’t waited eighteen years and killed two men to be turned down by her. No. No. No. He wedged himself tight against her. The hand that had been between her legs pinned her far arm to the blanket and his free one worked the belt at his waist. “Don’t fight, Calla, just do what I want and everything will be all right.” His hard cock dropped free of the linen trousers.

Calla tried to escape, tried to use her magick to fend him off or traverse her across the Astral to home but the drugs, the tea, the wine, or combination of all of the above had her deep within its grasp, just as deep as Andy did.

Nicholas? If nothing else maybe her powers of telepathy still worked. Nicholas!

The line in her head was just as dead as her magick.

Wiggling, writhing, squirming, trying to get away, she pushed further and further back on the blanket. Andy’s hand the one that was pinning her down was within reach of her teeth. How many times had she yelled at the twins for biting each other? She didn’t know but it seemed effective enough. Calla chomped down on the pale hairy flesh of his forearm.

“Ouch!” Andy’s grip eased as he naturally pulled away from the pain.

Calla rolled away from him and skittered away on the grass. She would have run but standing wasn’t an option. “Stop,” she told him. “Andy, don’t do this.”

Andy looked down to see that he was bleeding. “You wretched little cocktease!” He bellowed.

Cocktease. Wasn’t the first time she’d heard that expression, was it? Michael Blood called her that once. David—well Daniel as David-- said it was a very bad thing to be. Down on the ground on her hands and knees, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she stuttered and grabbed for the blouse. Andy grabbed the other end of it. “Please, I’m sorry.” Calla cried. “I can’t do this, I love my husband I would never betray him!” She pulled on the flimsy cotton blouse. As far as she could see, there was four Andrew Hartley’s tugging on the other end of the blouse.

Andy let go of it, as predicted, she fell over backwards into the soft grass. He pounced onto of her. “You can’t leave me like this.” He warned through tight lips. “Come on, love, at least give us a hummer.” His thumb played with her bottom lip. “Do this for me and I’ll make sure you get all the weed and shrooms and coke you want, love, bright and early in the morning. I’ll even throw in a few other goodies. Hum?” When her mouth didn’t readily open for him, his hand found the pressure points at her lower jaw and forced it open. “That’s it, good girl, now.”

Not knowing what else to do and hoping he would be true to his word and let her go after Calla took his cock into her mouth and down her throat. Calla did so desperately need that package he was going to bring her tomorrow. If she didn’t do this for him now perhaps he would not do that for her later.

In the warm late spring night, laying in the grass, with the full moon and stars shining above, Calla gave in and blew him off as he wanted. Andrew was easy, not like Daniel who’d become a challenge over the years. Andy came fast and hard. His spunk was bitter and he made her swallow it even though she wanted to spit him out.

David—as himself and as Daniel—had other words besides ‘cocktease’ for her. Chief among them were Junkie and Strawberry. Although she really wasn’t aware of either of those words or what they meant, Andrew Hartley was doing his damndest to turn her into his own little Strawberry and doing a mighty good job of it.

Sometime around 3am Andrew Hartley dropped Calla off at her front door reminding her that he’d be by before noon with her package of goodies. He thanked for a lovely evening and then drove off. Nicholas was waiting in the darkened living room. “Have a nice night?” She reeked of the Brit and she didn’t even have the decency to straighten out her hair or her clothes, her blouse was inside out.

“Leave me alone,” she muttered and stumbled her way to Daniels’ office. Calla slammed the door shut and locked it. She fumbled in her purse for that cigarette pack Andy left behind earlier and the marijuana inside. Calla had smoked the last of her resin here at Daniels’ desk and the pipe was still in the center drawer she stuffed as much weed into the bowl as she possibly could. Sitting there curled up in Daniels’ chair shaking so badly she almost couldn’t light the pipe, Calla drew deep hits of the piney smoke. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I’m so sorry, Daniel.”

Andy purposefully neglected to tell Calla one small detail regarding the marijuana he gave her; it was laced with LSD. As such and knowing her as he did already, Andy parked the car about a quarter mile down the road and waited. He didn’t have a great view of the house but he could see the lights within. In fifteen minutes the light in the living room clicked off. A few moments later, a light came on upstairs in what he guessed was one of the twins’ rooms. Soon after that, it shut off again. Andy figured Nicholas’ had waited up for his mother, they’d had a few words and he’d gone to bed.

The light in the left corner room on the first floor stayed on. That was The Husbands’ office. Frail, scared, alone, and soon to be (unknowingly) tripping her ass off, Calla had settled in The Husbands’ favorite room for the rest of the night. Well, that was probably Par for the Course, now wasn’t it? Andy imagined that Calla wouldn’t want spend the cold nights alone in a cold bed, now would she? Of course not. The Husband spend a great deal of his time in The Office and she would feel close to him there as her bare bottom sat in his chair, her fingers running over his keyboard, wishing for any sign, any closeness to her Dearly Beloved Daniel, anything, yes, anything at all that would bring her closer to him.

A half hour later with all lights remaining the same, Andy walked the distance to the Jackson house under cover of darkness. He crept up the front porch and peeked into The Office window. Calla was slumped over the desk, her legs tucked beneath her in the black leather chair. The computer was on and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what site she’d been visiting, now did it? Certainly not. Calliendanny.com was becoming very popular indeed especially with the citizenry of Greenbrier, Colorado and surrounding towns.

Of course, the legitimate photography site was just as popular. A few more days to go in the voting and Calla was a sure winner in all categories. Which, of course, placed Tom Dyer in the running for the coveted Best in Show Award, that award was only voted upon by member of the association running the contest. The Estate of Thomas H. Dyer stood to gain a lot of capital in the very near future.

Dear, dear, Calla, her life was falling apart all around her and there was no one to help pick up the pieces. The only one she ever wanted to help her was off in the deepest depths of Japan digging in the dirt for some moldy old relics that no one gave a shit about. Yes, poor Calla indeed.

Well, now, he hadn’t gone to all this trouble just to have one foray—ill gotten as it may have been-- with the lovely Calla Jackson. Andrew Hartley had gone to considerable trouble to set himself up this way. The murders of Tom Dyer and Antwone Hartley were, well, they were crimes of passion. At least Dyer was. Hartley’d been following Calla around for months waiting for his opportunity to strike. Watching through the window of the college class room as first Tom Dyer plied her with alcohol and guilted her into posing for him and then brought that brute Antwone Brooker onto the scene, well that was really just too much for Andy. Calla was terrified, couldn’t they see that? What was wrong with them? But all right, perhaps it was innocent.

Then again, perhaps it wasn’t. Andy watched Calla stumble to her car. He couldn’t see what she was doing in there except for the spark of the lighter every few seconds. That much told him she was either smoking weed or crack. Calla didn’t strike him as a crack head. A little while later she weaved an unsteady path back to the building and conducted her class. Andy waited. She argued with Dyer and then left. He followed her back to her car, watched her fall down, and vomited into the grass and underbrush. He couldn’t believe it when she drove away.

Andy didn’t know Daniel was leaving the country or he might have timed things a bit better. If he’d known Daniel had an airtight alibi he would have killed Booker sooner. The USAF issued a very official statement to the police that Doctor Daniel Jackson was on assignment for the government from the day before Booker was killed until the following Monday. Few people would argue with that.

Andrew approached Hartley when he returned from the post office and asked to see the images. Dyer fell all over himself as he stumbled to get the key into the lock of his classroom. Yes, Andy presented himself as being very interested in Tom’s work and as wanting to represent him in various circles and galleries.

One look at the photographs Dyer so proudly presented him with sent him over the edge. With little warning, Andy sucker punched Dyer in the kidney as the bent forward he reached down and snapped his neck. The silver nitrate was just a nice flourish on his part as far as Andy was concerned. He ripped up the photographs and did his best to destroy the negatives. He slunk out of the room and off the campus without being seen.

Booker was more difficult than Dyer was; he wasn’t impressed with credentials or names. It wasn’t until Hartley told him that he thought Booker could make a small fortune modeling for photographers, painters, and sculptors that he even showed the slightest curiosity. The Best Buy where Booker worked was closed for the night; they went into the Employee Break Room where Hartley showed Booker a portfolio of artists he represented. As Booker gazed the famous photos and paintings and the big names in the black portfolio, Hartley rose easy and broke his neck with one blow to the back of his head. Getting Booker into the dumpster took a bit more work. As with Calla last Saturday and Sunday night, what good are a car and driver for if you don’t use them?

If The Husband had stayed stateside, all would have been well and all would have been good. Surely, Doctor Daniel Jackson would be the prime and logical suspect in such a case. The jealous husband taking his rage out on the photographer and model who’d seen his beautiful wife naked and touched her all over, thereby somehow damaging the male ego and ever-loving machismo.

The police had no suspects other than perhaps Professor Calla Jackson. Andy hadn’t meant for that to happen to all. What good was she to him if she were in prison?

Now with him on the porch staring through the glass at her and Calla asleep at Daniels’ desk, pipe of his special weed in her limp hand, slipping out of his the loafers on his feet, Andy tried the window and found it open. People in the country were so trusting. Earlier he’d noticed the house didn’t even have an alarm system. Inside the well-greased track, the sash threw up easily and without a sound, the same way Andy made his entrance into the room. Just the small desk light and computer screen gave any light into the dark room with its floor to ceiling bookcases and unlit hearth.

Earlier tonight he had to admit the blowjob was very nice. Andy wanted more than that and he didn’t want to wait for it. Tomorrow he’d bring her a package of goodies the likes of which she could only have wished for previously. Tonight he intended to have a bit more that slick, bald, sweet wet spot between her legs.

Quietly nearing her, he turned his gaze to the monitor. Now Andy had viewed these files more than a thousand times over the years and he knew each one by heart but what she told him earlier today about David the twin brother helped to shed new light on them. All the while, he’d been watching these bits of footage he’d noticed three in particular that seemed…out of character…for the man in the videos. Calla said the twin had pretended to be Daniel and that the twin, David, bugged the house and broadcast their lives live via the Internet. Might David not have been brazen enough to come in and have himself taped with her, sending it first live over the Internet and then archived for sale? It seemed plausible enough to him. The bothersome part was, like this morning, those were the files she was watching. This was one had her bent over the couch again. If that was David, the twin, he liked the over-the-couch thing. Two of the files were that way and one was in the bedroom with her facing the bedroom door.

Yes, the door. Andy went over and checked it, gave a soft pull and twist and realized it was locked from the inside. Nosey brat wouldn’t bother them now.

At some point Calla had stripped off her clothes and sat naked at The Husbands’ desk in his chair at his computer with the laced weed in her hand. If she was dreaming or hallucinating then it didn’t take a genius to figure out whom she was thinking about. Now the question was; how to make her believe that was what was happening? Andy crept around behind her and stroked the back of her head. If she didn’t see him, chances were the drugs were making her think she was dreaming of The Husband. Tonight that was fine with Andy. A few strokes and she began to move, just a little at first and then she began to make very low guttural sounds in her throat as though she were trying to talk to him.

Perhaps she was too weak to lean over the desk, he thought, as he looked her over from head to toe. Yes, perhaps she was. Her legs might not hold her. Andy did his best at an American accent, “Sit on my lap.” He whispered in her ear and picked her up from the chair. Calla offered no resistance. For a moment, he leaned her against the desk and as he freed his cock realized his call was right, Calla began to collapse to the ground. He caught her in time to settle her naked skin on his. One arm around her chest and cupping that tender breast, holding her close to him he reached out with the other and brought them closer to the desk. Against his inner thigh she was wet, oh god, she was so wet and ready, it just oozed from her like a well oiled-machine. The tip of his cock slid up against it.

“Daniel,” it was more a slurred rush of air than a name but Andy caught it just the same. It was the tone more than anything that caught his attention it was hot and lustful. Sweet as a Siren’s Song just as she’d uttered it so many times on those tapes. Daniel was one lucky bugger that was true but he was selfish as well and Andy intended to teach Daniel how to share his toys like a good little boy.

Yes, yes, calm down now, everyone gets a turn.

The hand that had been bringing them to the desk slipped between them, grasped the base of his cock, and guided his cock inside while the one at her breast tightened holding her firmly to him. That was all she needed. The acid wasn’t like the Rhoypnol, no not in the least. The prescription made her pliable but unresponsive whereas the acid made her pliable and very responsive. She was happily hallucinating about her husband while he slid in and out of her and she ground her hips down on his lap. Sooner or later she wouldn’t need the drugs she’d come to him on her own but for now this was good enough.

Andy’s exit was just as smooth as his entrance. When he’d had his fill of her for the early morning hours he just slid out of her and then out of the window. Leaving Calla slumped over Daniels’ desk in Daniels’ chair with the computer still on calliendanny.com. He’d see her again in a few hours, after the twins went to school, and he’d have a magic box of supplies with him. The Husband was still nowhere around.

No, it wouldn’t take long at all before that loyalty gave way and she was begging him for it.

End of Chapter Twenty-Five of
Tarnished Heroes
An Adult Stargate FanFiction Novel
By
Moon Mistress
Continue to
Chapter Twenty-Six