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

This story is dedicated to
Red
&
Andy DuFresne; I hope too, boys, I hope.

Some day, girl
I don’t know when,
We’re gonna get to that place
where we really wanna go
and we’ll walk in the sun
’cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run
Born to Run
Bruce Springsteen

Chapter One

Calla jolted awoke in the bed. Daniel was already awake and sitting beside her. “You all right?” Her eyes wildly searched the bedroom as if she didn’t know where she was. “You had that dream again. I know I saw it.” He tapped the side of his head.

Slowly the haze lifted and her thudding heart slowed to a normal pace as she recognized the room around her and turned her damp eyes to him. “I’m sorry,” Calla said quickly. A deep frown cross her pretty lips as she reached out for her husband. “I’m so glad you weren’t late.” She whispered.

Daniel hugged her tightly and stroked the hair silky auburn cascading down her back. “I’m glad you were so strong and you held on and that you didn’t surrender.” Eighteen wonderful years together—thirteen of them post-Kanan-- and some times these dreams still plagued her. Usually when she was overly tired or worried about something, certainly they didn’t come to her all the time…well not anymore. Naganti Kanan, dead as he was, never left her life. “So,” he said lightly still holding her, “what are you up to today? You don’t have a class until 11:30.”

“I know, we’re deciding where we’re going on our annual trip today” she sighed against his neck and took her arms from him. “I thought I’d pick up a few things at the store before heading over to the university.” Calla nuzzled her face against the warmth of his hand and then kissed it as he rose. “Colleen has a swim meet today, are you going to make it?”

“Sure,” Daniel said, “what time?”

Calla picked up her PDA on the night stand and looked through it. “4:30 at the high school.”

“I’ll be there.” He said proudly.

Colleen was an excellent swimmer and now in her senior year she was the captain of the girls’ swim team and had many ribbons and metals under her belt. His daughter didn’t stop with swimming she was on the dive team and part of the chamber choir as well as part of the school orchestra. In the orchestra she played the violin. When her friends came over in the evening she played the electric guitar in the basement while they accompanied her and sometimes it got a little raucous.

Boys called day and night, they were always showing up at his front door looking for his daughter. Sometimes Daniel found himself thinking of all the fathers of all the girls he’d ever dated, all the little ‘conversations’ they’d had and how, back then, he just though dad was butting in and being over protective. Many was the time Daniel found himself thinking of Ares and the way he wrapped his arms around Calla and held on tight. How many years they’d spent apart and couldn’t get back. Now, here he was with his own daughter, he didn’t want to let Colleen out of the house never mind out of his sight. Colleen was seventeen and just as beautiful as her mother. She was bright and giving and sometimes Daniel thought she was too trusting. Although Calla insisted that he leave her alone, that she was strong and could take care of herself and that let her date whoever she chose to--a luxury Calla never had—Mother kept a stern eye on her Daughter and just which males were coming and going from the Jackson Household.

Nicholas was more the typical male he excelled at anything to do with motors and working parts. His prized possession was a 1969 Fast Back Mustang that he and Daniel restored from a pile of rubble. The damn thing was fast and loud! Nicholas loved that car. He loved computers and math and was the star running back on the football team and centerfield for the baseball team. As for his musical ability he was often found in the basement with his sister and their mutual friends hitting the drums. Not to mention, he seemed exceptionally popular with the ladies.

Nicholas, like his sister, had his choice of who he did and didn’t want to date. Oh, to have been either of them, Daniel thought longingly, how grand it must be. Nicholas was big and strapping like his grandfather. He towered over Daniel by a good five inches and he looked just like Ares, from those deep smoldering eyes to that flowing jet black hair. A few years ago, Daniel and his son began lifting weights in the basement at night Nicholas had arms as big as the trunks of small trees with torso and legs to match. Luckily for all of them, Nicholas lacked his grandfather’s cruel streak, he had just as big of a heart as he did a body and was part of a mentoring program for inner city kids. Nicholas really seemed to like that last one.

Either or both of the kids could have easily skipped grades at any time. They could have entered college a few years ago but they seemed genuinely happy where they were. They had loads of friends and were having just as much fun as a teenager should, they weren’t bored or complaining about the stupidity of their teachers—not any more than any other teen anyway-- and Calla liked them being with people their own age if not their own level. Neither Nicholas nor Colleen was ever caught talking down to anyone, Calla would be most furious at that.

They both had their Exceptional Gifts as Calla called them. Both were telepathic as well as telekinetic. Both could travel the Astral Plane with the same ease as their mother and both had her healing abilities but luckily for the twins, they could heal themselves as well. Calla said that was the human part of them, self-preservation and selfishness. Daniel could still remember standing there looking at her thinking she had to be kidding, if anyone on the planet knew anything at all about self-preservation and perseverance it was her. Selfishness, however, was still a characteristic that Calla lacked.

The Growth Spurt which had so concerned Daniel earlier in the twins’ lives stopped around the time they were six and entering first grade. They looked like third graders but as the years went on their peers seemed to catch up to them—except Nicholas, you’d be hard pressed to catch up to him. Daniel asked Calla one night made what the aging process start and stop in people like her. Calla told him that the aging process didn’t actually stop but rather it slowed to an almost unrecognizable pace when an Olympian reached a point that was either their greatest sorrow or their greatest joy. Ares stopped aging the first time he was victorious in battle which was somewhere around twenty-five, that was roughly four thousand years ago and he still easily passed for 45. Eros stopped aging the first time he had a virgin, somewhere around the ungodly age of fourteen, that was somewhere around three thousand years ago and at the time of death he could have passed for 25. The longer an Olympian lived the more they aged the catch was, you had to stick around a few hundred or more years in order to really see it. Zeus being over 7,000 years old appeared as an old man because, well in truth, he was old. For as long Daniel was with her, Calla promised to do her best to keep him young and healthy even though he was not a God. Although the thought crossed his mind he didn’t ask her about making Immortal, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to stick around Planet Earth quite that long. But two or three or four hundred years with her sounded right fine to him.

Daniel wanted to ask her when she had stopped growing. But it was a moot question. In his heart it was obvious; Calla stopped growing the day her beloved brother, Eros raped her in their Father’s form. However, she didn’t actually stop aging until Daniel took her away from Naganti Kanan. In fact, if he wanted to pinpoint that exact moment, she didn’t stop aging until they made love back in his old quarters on the base. If he ever got up the balls to ask her that, he was sure she’d say the same.

In that respect—and many others-- his kids were far more fortunate than their mother. They were still growing and aging right on schedule.

Yes, Daniel Jackson’s children were almost all grown up now and about to graduate from high school and they turned out very well. Very well balanced. Very….normal…in a lot of respects. That was due more to their mother than their father who kept his career with SG-1 going strong until the twins were around ten. At that time he felt it best to leave the saving the world duties to a younger crowd—not that he was what anyone would call ‘old’, at fifty-something he still looked exactly the way he did on the day he first met Calla and felt even younger. Working out with his son didn’t hurt that fact any and Calla seemed to really appreciate the way his arms and chest curved and bulged, especially without a shirt, she was always running her hands over him even in her sleep. Yeah, that was a nice side benefit. While she complimented him on his new physique she never said what she actually meant, no she left that in code or in Calla Speak. He wasn’t as bulked and sculpted as say, Ares, or Kanan or even Nicholas but he was bigger than before. Daniel understood that now she considered him strong enough to protect her and keep her safe. The burden of protecting him of worrying about his safety while he tried to protect her was somewhat lifted from her shoulders. In other, more Old Fashioned Terms, now he was big enough for her to let him Be The Man.

Daniel Jackson didn’t give up on the Stargate program, that wouldn’t be like him, instead he remained with the USAF and the SGC, recapturing his earlier position as Head of Cultural, Archeological and Linguists Research—with an all male staff of assistants-- and he still went off world when the occasion called for it. Other than Teal’c he was the last active member of SG-1 still at the SGC. Sam got married years ago and while she stayed on with SG1 for a few years after that she decided she wanted a family and stepped down from Saving the Universe to take a research position with NASA. Three months ago she got divorced and moved back to Colorado with her daughter, Amanda a big and intelligent eight year-old. Jack O’Neill semi-retired from the SGC seven years ago but he was known to nose around from time to time and haunt the hallways. Seemed none of them ever lost their taste for their adventures and the Stargate.

Sooner or later Daniel Jackson would have to leave the military as well and he and his wife would have to leave Colorado. Being fifty-something and looking thirty-something was one thing, he could pass it off as ‘healthy living’ or ‘good genes’ but when he still appeared this way at seventy, he’d have some heavier explaining to do and so would Calla. Eventually, they would have to disappear from here and start over somewhere else. Daniel was fairly certain she knew that already but they had yet to discuss it with any seriousness or detail.

It was his wife that he was most proud and in awe of. The scars she once bore on the outside of her body were far easier to heal than those knotted deep and coarse within her. Calla scratched and clawed her way out of the abyss and he was there to help her but she’d done the bulk of the work on her own. Crawling through years of shit and muck—things that were so nasty and evil that he expended a lot of energy just trying not to think about them--she managed to come out clean on the other side. It wasn’t easy on either of them and it wasn’t pretty by any means. The road back was long and full of ruts, detours and pitfalls. Here and there they both stumbled or faltered but with the help of the other they got up and went forward; together. Nothing major you understand, just the normal worrying about the next hurdle and how to tackle it, indeed whether or not it was even surmountable. There were no affairs of the heart or lustful infatuations of the body for either of them.

While before he would feel a twinge of guilt when she would look up at him and tell him with all the sincerity in her heart that he was the only man she’d ever wanted, and wish with all his heart that he could say it back to her with just as much sincerity and knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t say he never wanted another woman before her, or let’s face it, not even directly after her. Daniel could say, with all the sincerity in his heart that after the night of her Infamous Bath and the Dream, the following day spent in the attic he never wanted another woman. Many pretty ladies had come and gone and some even tried to get his attention—especially since he’d bulked up a little-- but those ladies couldn’t have his attention and he never even entertained the idea.

Somewhere along the line the two Walking Wounded became the two Battle Scared, a bit worse for wear but still buying green bananas and looking forward to Tomorrow rather than back to Yesterday. She still got scared from time to time, like her dream just now. Every once in a great while she would just disappear, she wouldn’t come home on time or no one knew where she was. On those times he knew where to find her, it took him a while to figure it out, but for some reason she was heading back to 1313 Mockingbird Lane in Silver Springs. Three times over the years he found her in her car staring at the house. That’s all just sitting there and staring at it. She’d come out of her daze when he called her name and tell him that she’d forgotten something in there and she had to go back and get it. When it asked what it was she didn’t know. He’d tell her she hadn’t left anything behind and she couldn’t go back in the house because they didn’t live there anymore. The last time which was more than a year ago following a huge blow out with her Father, Daniel had to drive her home from 1313 Mockingbird Lane because she didn’t come out that deep daze when he called her name, no matter how loud he said it or tried to get her attention. Daniel picked her up out of the car and put her in his car and drove her home. He and Teal’c went back for her car the next day. Calla had been sort of spacey for the next week or more.

But that was over a year ago and she’d been right as rain since then. Before that she hadn’t an episode since he stepped down from SG-1. Daniel asked her what she and Ares fought about it was clear she did not want to discuss it. He figured Ares had finally gone far in his lust for her and Calla put a stop to it.

In the fall when the twins started first grade, after a year of self-imposed isolation, she came to him with a new idea; she wanted to go to school. From the look on her face and the tone of her voice he knew she expected him to pooh-pooh the suggestion but, truth was, he thought it was a great idea. If she wanted to go to school and earn a degree in anything that was good with him, he’d happily pay the tuition costs—which is of course what she was worried about most. Calla was relieved but insisted that she would repay the money to him one day.

And so, Calla Jackson enrolled at the University of Colorado, Silver Springs with an eye toward a degree in Fine Arts. Just under three years later she graduated not with a mere Associates Degree but with a Master’s Degree in Art History and a Bachelor’s in Music theory. Everyone, Jack, Sam, Teal’c, Ares, even General Hammond flew in for the occasion, were there to celebrate with her when she received, what she called, her Pedigrees. He still remembered and could feel every inch of the moment when she walked across the stage in her black cap and gown and accepted what was due to her. What she worked for. What she earned. Earn it she did, she spent a lot of sleepless nights cracking those books and burning the mid-night oil. Being a Goddess had its advantages but when it came to new things, they still had to be learned, didn’t they? That still took a bit of time.

Degree in hand Calla went from school to school looking for a teaching position. For a while she taught grade school art and seemed to have a lot of fun with that. She went onto middle school and high school where the challenges were more difficult. Calla had some successes there but on the whole didn’t like dealing with teenagers and people whose lives were so consumed by their hormones they couldn’t think straight. Five years ago she’d been accepted back to the University of Colorado at Silver Springs as Professor Calla Jackson, Professor of Fine Arts. Up until last year she worked full time at the University. Last year she opened a small gallery of her own in Silver Springs not too far from 1313 Mockingbird Land and made the Professorship part-time.

Over the years Calla sold several of her paintings in small galleries just like it. After she became a Professor at the university and having sold several paintings locally Calla gained a bit of notoriety in the Art World. With her credentials and incredibly unique subject matters, Calla sold paintings in Los Angles, San Francisco, New York City and Miami and she’d been contacted by galleries in Europe—those invitations she politely declined without explanation. Those galleries within the US that courted her and struck her fancy she accepted their polite invitations to show her work and shipped off her paintings each tagged with a price and small Bit About This Piece. Though her artwork was reviewed most favorably—by most critics, one had called her work ‘misogynistic’ and she took great offense at that--she never attended a single opening or saw her art hanging in any of those fancy galleries, she did, however accept the checks that rolled in.

At first those checks were small but very nice, a few hundred here and there. Then they got a little bigger and a little bigger. Each piece that sold for a higher and higher price seemed to have something in common with her time with Naganti Kanan or David or Eros or Rowan/Psyche. Daniel wished she’d stop painting those pieces or throw out the really old ones at least. In time he came to understand that doing such would be tantamount to asking her throw out part of herself. Each painting representing some small piece of her heart or soul that she’d sold in order to hang onto her sanity through those dark times. Each piece that sold, that was accepted and went away, seemed to bring back the piece of her heart or soul it originally represented.

Yes, with her wildly dark and often cold and brutal images she was becoming something of a mysterious recluse in The Art World. Calla thought that was funny. In fact she thought that was downright hysterical.

Calla’s gallery, Blooming Lotus, she named it, displayed her work—priced much more inexpensively than in those fancy galleries in the big cities and with brighter subject matters-- along with that of other local artists. It was open four nights and one day a week.

Two days and one night a week Professor Jackson taught painting and art appreciation at the university. On Mondays she taught class from 8am to 11am and on Thursday, her late day, from 11:30am to 3:00pm she taught class to the real college-aged kids. Tomorrow being Friday with her one night class from 8:30 to 11:30, it was mostly filled with part-time students and older people. Those people who were working on getting a degree or just furthering their education in their spare time. With her gallery open Monday to Thursday 11am until 7pm and Saturday evenings from 5pm until 10pm. Of course, she opened it for special occasions such as the opening of a new exhibit and she and her artists received a good deal of local press coverage.

It was those 19 to 21 years olds who seemed to inspire and enlighten and uplift her. Calla saw hope in them and if she could find it in them then surely it must reside in her as well. In the evenings when they sat and had coffee after dinner in the living room or maybe tucked away up here on the porch, she’d talk about her favorite students and rave about their skills. It was so good to see her so happy and alive. Naganti Kanan had never seen her this way and that bastard didn’t have a clue as to what he’d missed out on.

Calla was one of most popular and well-liked professors on campus. Every year her honors class went on a field trip to the museum of the class’ choice. The only stipulation being the museum had to be within the Continental United States. She wasn’t taking anyone out of the country. Every year Daniel went along for the ride at the college’s expense. They’d gone to Los Angles and to the Guggenheim in New York, they went to the Smithsonian in Washington, DC twice. Last year, on what seemed like a lark to Daniel they class voted to go to the Museum of the Old West in El Paso, Texas (where Calla insisted on at least going through Corpus Christi much to Daniel’s chagrin. Calla wanted to see where David had been living in the years preceding his sudden arrival in Colorado. She knew that Daniel knew David’s last known address and made him take her by the house. It was a faded yellow duplex with junky old toys in the weed riddled front yard. Out back in the alley, at 11:30 in the am, men were drinking beer straight out of the can and jawing. Before leaving Corpus Christi they went back the garage where David had last been known to hold a job. Calla never said anything about the trip but she painted it later.)

Calla was most democratic when it came to the class’ destination. Each member of the class wrote down their suggestion on a slip of paper and put it in a fish bowl. Calla picked five slips, wrote them down on the board and the class voted.

Even though she had a limited budget to work with she never failed to get them where they wanted to go, bargain hunting was something she never lost her taste or her talent for. Although she still didn’t go very far from home, she really seemed to enjoy those three to four day trips with her class and the time with her husband.

She was a most extraordinary woman.

Yes, most extraordinary. Last year, just before their anniversary, she’d come to him with a great grin on her face and holding something behind her back. Daniel knew he was in for something and waited for it. Calla asked if he remembered that painting he hated so much but she wouldn’t part with? (‘That painting’ being the one of him and Rowan in their bed and which she entitled Secret Lovers). He said he did and hoped she was about to tell him she’d finally burned the goddamn thing. But…well… no. Calla had, in some very strange way, always liked that particular piece. Daniel supposed if you were an outsider who didn’t know the tale behind the image you might think it was very romantic and erotic but he did know the story behind it and so he never saw it that way. The last he’d heard of it she’d shipped it off to a show in Los Angles.

“I sold it.” She said and presented him with a check for thirty-five thousand dollars in payment for her tuition.

The gleam in her eye and the smile on her face as she gave it to him was remarkable, she was so proud of herself that Daniel just couldn’t tell her ‘no’. Calla explained that the buyer paid twenty-thousand dollars for the painting that he so despised and that she’d saved the other fifteen out of her own pay. While accepting the check he told her that she didn’t have to do this. The next day Daniel deposited the money into their joint savings. That was all right with Calla, she didn’t care what he did with the money it was the act of giving it to him that was important to her.

Looking over at the clock by the bed he wiped the last of the sleep from his eyes. “So, I guess you’ll know where we going by this afternoon?” Daniel asked.

“Yes, I suppose so. You’re just interested in the free trip.” She complained happily.

“Nothing wrong with free, I like free, free is good.” Daniel kissed the top of her head.

“What are you doing today? Anything exciting?” She asked and tossed the covers back. Calla slipped into her robe.

“Yeah, cataloging the artifacts found on XG7899.” He said with a moody smile.

“Oh, sounds like fun.” Calla wrapped her arms around him again. “Phew, you stink.” She teased. Of course she was partly to blame for his masculine odor this morning. As always, last night was very heavenly. “Wanna take a shower with me?” Her eyes lit up.

Daniel looked at the clock again he still had another hour before he absolutely had to get on the road. “Yeah,” he ran his hand through her hair, “I do.”

“Good.” Calla smiled wide, closed her hand down around his and pulled him toward the master bathroom with a laugh. “I just hate it when you turn me down.”

“Yeah,” Daniel taunted and followed her. “That happens soooo often.” He rolled his blue eyes. “What a horrible husband I am, how do you stand it, Mrs. Jackson?”

“Stop,” she cooed and shut the bathroom door. “You’re an awful flirt.”

“Me? I’m not the one who brought us in here,” Daniel got hold of the sash of her green robe. “And, correct me if I’m wrong,” the robe hit the bathroom floor, she wasn’t wearing anything more, “wasn’t that you last night? You know, the one that was, ah,…”

“Stop, she said again let out a blushing laugh. “Are you complaining, Doctor Jackson?” It was her turn to begin the undressing and he was only wearing those deep blue silk PJ bottoms that she liked to wear the top to. “Is that what I’m hearing? Complaints?” Her fingertips slipped into the waistline of the pj bottoms and she descended along with them to the floor.

“Not at all.” He stepped out of the loose cloth.

With his cock half hard she nuzzled her face against it her hair fell over him in a soft embrace. She kissed the tip of it before rising slowly to her feet. Both of them buck naked she pressed herself against him and listened to the rhythm of his heart. “I love you, Beautiful.” She cooed against the warm flesh of his chest.

“I love you.” Daniel returned and felt his cock stiffen further. She was going to wait until they were in the shower. Yep, sure enough…

Calla let go of him and turned on the shower head in the spacious stand-up shower in the master bathroom. Testing the temperature with the palm of her hand before climbing in, she left the door open waiting for him.

“I should shave.” He muttered looking in the mirror.

“I’ll shave you,” she invited. “Bring the razor.”

He did like it when she shaved him and she was very good at it. Daniel picked up the shave gel and the double blade razor as he hopped into the shower. “Go right ahead.” He said happily as he handed them over to her and stuck his chin out and waited. “Go on. Careful now don’t cut me.”

“Oh, of course not, my Lord.” She sighed with a roll of her eyes and kiss on his cheek. “Come on, under the water, we have to get your face wet first.” Calla nudged him forward to wet his whiskers. After lathering his handsome cheeks she very carefully and skillfully guided the razor over his face twice. The first time going down and then second going up. As she shaved, Daniel moved his face to help her, his nose twitched or he stretched his chin and as always she followed his movement. Her jaw stretched to the left when his did and her lower lip stretched down in a frown when she guided the razor between his nose and upper lip. Daniel started to giggle. “Stand still or you’re going to get cut.” She warned.

Purposefully he twitched his nose again and watched her subconsciously follow along in this silent game of Follow The Leader. Daniel couldn’t help it, she was shaving him with that look of focused concentration on her face, she was so serious and being so careful not to nick him. In her focused daze she didn’t notice what he was doing and without thinking about it she followed him along for another moment or two.

Suddenly, her eyes turned up to him and the blade stopped in place. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Calla planted her fists on her slender hips and pouted, one little fist clutching the disposable razor.

Daniel exploded with laughter.

“Oh, you’re terrible! You can just finish this up on your own.” She warned and tried to hand him the razor. Instead of taking it he just laughed a little harder and wrapped his arms around her, smushing shaving cream into hair and onto her face. “Ick!” She cried and blindly stumbled for the water. Washing the white lather off her face she turned around. “Now I will smell like you all day.”

“Good,” Daniel said and pulled her in close, “everyone will know there’s a man in your life.”

“Everyone already knows that.” Calla reached up and began to spread out what was left of the shaving cream on his face. “Now, stand still, I’m almost done.”

“I can do this myself, Kitty.”

“But I like doing it.” She said earnestly.

“Go on, I’ll behave.” Daniel told her and waited while she finished cleaning off the whiskers from his face.

“There,” she said as she took a step back in the hot water and rinsed off his face. “Very smooth.”

Daniel rubbed his hand across his jaw, “Yep,” he agreed, “very smooth. Thank you.”

Suddenly her hands were on his thighs. “Do you really want to thank me?” She asked and licked her bottom lip.

“What did you have in mind, Kitty?” He sucked on his full bottom lip while groping out for her waist.

“Well, I thought that….” One hand slid around to his firm buttocks, “perhaps…if it wasn’t….” she gave him a good squeeze, “too much trouble,” the other hand slipped from his outer thigh to the growing area between his legs and began to pump him under the warm water. “You might find a way to show me,” her lips encircled his nipple and she heard the quickening of his heart beat, “how much you appreciate my efforts.”

“I dunno, Kitty, it is a lot of effort on my part.” He taunted her.

Calla did her own bit of teasing as she turned her back to him and reached up to grab the shower bar, her hips and that fine ass jutted out toward him.

Eighteen years and they still made love at least twice a day. It was the first thing she wanted to do when she woke in the morning and the last thing she wanted to do before she fell asleep in his arms at night. Him too for that matter. Daniel took her hands down and turned her around. “You never gave up,” he said softly with wonder in his eyes. He brushed his hand through his wet hair. “Do you know how much I love you?”

“Not as much as I love you.” Calla stood on tiptoes to kiss him.

The gleam in her eye told him she wanted him but she thought he was lying. “I mean it, Kitty.” He reached out and brought her close under the hot water. “Do you have any idea how in awe I am of you?”

“Me?” She asked with a giggle and nuzzled against his chest and the warm water washed over them. “What have I done, Daniel? You’re the one who saves the Universe time and again.”

He let out a chuckle, his little wife, so modest. “Yeah, but you’re the one who saves us time and again.” Daniel reached behind him and turned off the water.

“What are you doing?” She asked lightly. “We haven’t even washed yet.”

“I wanna make love to my wife, in our bed. Not here.” He told her. Daniel opened the shower door. “You can wash me off later if you want.”

“Never.” Grabbing a towel, Calla followed him back to their bed. Once outside the bathroom door they could hear the phone ringing. “It’s not for us,” Calla groaned happily. With two teenagers in the house the telephone was almost never for them. “It’s probably just Amy wanting to know what Coley’s wearing today.” She scooted in under the covers and held them back for him.

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed as the phone stopped ringing and climbed in next to her. Just as his lips closed down over hers………..

“Mom!” Nicholas bellowed from the bottom of the stairs. “Mom! Phone!”

“Take a message, I’m in the shower,” she called back.

“Christ, are they at it again?” Was heard being mumbled from the bottom of the stairs. “Maaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Nicholas shouted with something akin to frustration. “Moth-er! It’s that gallery in New York! I think you wanna take it.”

In the bedroom, Daniel and Calla had been snickering at the tone of their son’s voice but that stopped abruptly. “Oh,” she groaned without happiness or pleasure. “I’m sorry, Daniel.” She looked over at the clock it was only 7:30 here but in New York it was 10:30. Calla picked up the phone. “Hello.” All he could hear was her end of the conversation. “Yes…..Really?” Her voice rose. “Who? Are you serious? I can’t believe this. No, no, no, that’s fine. Just fine. Yes, all right. Thank you. Bye.”

“What’s up?” He asked. Calla was flabbergasted she just sat there staring at the phone. “Kitty?” Daniel took the phone out of her hand and hung it up. “Something wrong?”

“No,” slowly she came out of the daze. “You know that painting, Woman in chains?” Calla grabbed his hand. “The one you thought was unfinished or abstract?”

Another painting he hated to think about. “Yeah.” Daniel agreed through tight lips.

“It sold for fifty thousand dollars!”

“Are you shittin’ me, Kitty?”

“No.” She was just as shocked and amazed as he was. “They’re FedExing the check today. Oh my gods! Daniel! Fifty thousand dollars for that piece of shit!”

Yeah, ok, first things first. “It’s not a piece of shit obviously someone likes it…a lot.” Daniel complimented. He hated the fucking thing just as much as he hated the other one but… “Kitty, this is fantastic. Look at you! Fifty grand for a painting!” He was excited for his wife as he licked his lips and smiled wide. “We have to go out tonight and celebrate.”

“Don’t you think that’s a lot of money?”

“Hell, yeah it is.” He agreed happily. “Someone thought your work was worth every dime of it.” To the big galleries she shipped off her darker paintings and it was for them that she was becoming known for. Here at home she sold calmer more peaceful images of a wide variety of things. But in New York and LA she sold images of Kanan and Rowan and Omar and Eros’ Tower and the Norwich State Hospital and all those nasty things in between. Yes, over the years Calla got much ‘better’ but the events of her life, like Kanan, never really left her and she spent the rest of her days painting the darker images out of her mind.

Calla blushed and then smiled sheepishly at him. “They did.” She said quietly and grabbed his hands with a bright gleam in her eyes. “Andrew Hartley bought it.” Calla whispered as though saying it would suddenly make it untrue. “Andrew Hartley bought my painting for fifty thousand dollars.” Without warning Calla jostled around in the bed, her little fists and feet pounding against the mattress as she did the Universal Happy Dance. “Oh my gods!” Her head reeled from the astounding amount of money that was coming their way. “Where shall we go?”

“Any where you want. You’re paying.” He told her with a grin and kissed his wife. “Who’s Andrew Hartley?”

“He’s a very famous art dealer.” She said. “It’s not just the money this time, Daniel.”

“A little recognition? You’d get more of that if you went to those openings and shucked your work around a little harder.” Daniel laid them both back on the bed, her in his arms with her head on his chest. He brought his hand up in the air, holding his thumb and forefinger about two inches apart he dragged it through the air as though he were reading words on a marquee. “Calla Jackson,” he said proudly, “world famous artiste.”

“Stop,” she giggled and nuzzled against him.

“I’m very proud of you. By any chance, could we get back to what we were doing before the phone call or are you too excited?”

“I’m excited all right.” She cooed at him. “Come here you.”

End of Chapter One of
Tarnished Heroes
An Adult Stargate FanFiction Novel
By
Moon Mistress
Continue to
Chapter Two