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Open Arms

Chapter 4

Casey sat up and looked around, then let out a sigh of frustration. She was sure that a great deal of time had passed between the time that Framone had taken her and Methos, and now. She could feel it. But nothing in her memory would offer any clues as to what had happened. Crawling to her feet, she examined the door, hoping that this time she could locate some way of operating it. She looked over when she heard Methos beginning to stir. He was recovering, from what she didn’t know. He looked up at her from where he lay on the bed. "Been here, done this, have the tee-shirt," she said. Then began pacing.

"Ah," Methos said, sitting up. "So this is where you and Duncan were." He looked around, also aware that something had happened to them, but unable to discern what that something was.

"Can’t say much for the view, or the hospitality, or the host. Come to think of it, the bed isn’t too comfortable either." Casey dropped to the floor, sitting cross-legged. "I looked again, but I can’t find any controls for the door this time, either. No vents - already looked. Well, one, but it’s too small for me to fit into."

Methos was walking around the room, examining the carefully decorated walls. "Bit over the top, isn’t it?" He said, nodding at the erotic murals.

"Yeah, typical Goa’uld…no taste." She sighed. "You wouldn’t happen to have a deck of cards, would you?"

The young/old man grinned and shook his head. "Nope. Sorry."

She huffed a sigh. "Boring. Very boring. I might get so bored that I’ll have to do something."

"Like what?"

With a wicked grin, she went to the table that sat against the wall. It had been near the bed the last time she'd had the misfortune of being held here. There was, however, a crystal pitcher filled with water, sitting on it, beside a bowl of what appeared to be fruit. She didn’t trust Framone. Most probably the fruit was poisoned, or at least drugged. She took the pitcher and poured the water around the edges of the door, grinning with satisfaction when she heard the crackle of sparks on one side. She then dropped it to the floor, and picked up a large piece. "I think these paintings need a bit of touching up, don’t you?" She began to cut into the wall, scrapping the paint away in some places, slashing the wall in others.

"I never knew you had such destructive tendencies," Methos said, watching her. "Hey, that’s not how that should look." He grinned and found a piece of glass, and stepped beside her. "This gent here needs a bit of adjustment," he said, slashing the wall.

"Oh, now see, you’ve gone and made him all lopsided," Casey giggled. "Oops…guess that was too much. Sure changed that rooster to a hen, didn’t we?"

Methos laughed out loud. Casey had a reputation for her wicked sense of humor, and it was said that it never failed her, no matter what the situation. Duncan was right, Casey was much tougher, much stronger, than any one suspected.

Their ‘redecorating’ was halted by the sounds of something or someone moving on the other side of the door. There was a muffled whining noise, and after several minutes, they could see something cutting through, making a hole large enough for them to crawl out of.

When they entered the corridor, Framone stood waiting with a group of guards. His eyes were glowing. He was livid.

"I am not amused," he said, his dual voice cold and angry. He had not intended for them to regain consciousness until he had reached his destination. Experience had taught him that Casey was a fighter, and that she would fight him every step of the way. Sedation was meant to keep her, and Methos, under control until he was ready to deal with them. Once again this woman was interfering with his plans. He should have kept them in a regular cell, he thought angrily. His affection for this lovely young woman had overcome his distrust of her. It would not happen again.

Casey shrugged. "Yeah, well I thought it was hilarious, so as long as one of us had a good time-"

Framone backhanded her across the face, her head twisting to the side with the force of the blow.

Methos moved towards her, intent on putting himself between her and Framone, but the guards held him back.

She touched her lip with her tongue, tasted the blood that was flowing. "Ooh, big man, beating on a woman. I got away from your sorry ass before. I’ll do it again. Seems to me that Daniel was waiting for you, the last time. The only thing that kept him from killing you then and there was the Fire. We’ve already been through the Ceremony of Fire. This time nothing will stop him. He will find you. And this time he will kill you. He’ll have your head bouncing off your shoulders before you can say ‘snake-head’."

The Goa’uld hissed with anger. "Take them!" he commanded harshly.

The guards grabbed the two Immortals and followed Framone. Casey tried to remember each turn they made, every detail of the corridors they walked through. Not easy to do when each corridor looked exactly the same.

When they stopped, they stood in front of a small cell. The force field was lowered, and Casey and Methos were unceremoniously shoved in.

"Gee, was it something I said?" Casey yelled at the retreating backs of the guards.

Methos shook his head. "You're gonna get us killed."

Casey groaned. "News flash, Old Man - they’re going to kill us anyway. Might as well piss ‘em off while I can." She was already surveying their new surroundings. "Damn! You’d think they could use big air vents like everybody else!"

Methos was about to answer when the room shuddered around them. "That cannot be good," he said softly.

"No, I think we’re under attack. Think it could be the Calvary?" She asked, hope in her eyes.

As much as he hated to kill the light that was shining in her green eyes, he knew he needed to be honest with her. Methos sighed. "I doubt it. I don’t think they know where we are. If he could get to Earth and not be detected, I doubt that his escape was noticed. There isn’t anything to definitely link our disappearance to this guy."

She snorted. "Not unless you consider that people saw us being ringed up in the middle of the street!"

"Don’t count on any of the good citizens of Colorado Springs to come forward and report that, even if anyone did see it," Methos said cynically.

The room shuddered again, making her fall against the man beside her. His arms went around her protectively. His lanky frame held hidden strength, she noted silently, her hands on his upper arms as she tried to regain her balance. Another shudder and then the lights around them dimmed, and the force field that held them in this prison flickered out. They looked at each other and grinned. They were running through the corridors when they heard the distinct clink of armor. Jaffa. A lot of them, from the sound.

"So, where to?" Methos whispered.

"I don’t know…the last time I never made it out of that room except to ring down…and…" she grinned. "Let’s see if we can find out where we are…maybe it is the Prometheus out there, and we can just ring over!"

He shook his head, but followed her anyway as she took off in the opposite direction of the approaching Jaffa. The corridors twisted and turned, and it felt as if they were running in circles. He was fairly certain they were.

They had passed the room where they had first been held, the hole in the door the only recognizable sign. They turned another corner, and came face to face with…

"Osiris," Casey whispered, a shiver going up her spine.

The woman turned and looked at the two interlopers, her eyes glowing. "Well, well, what have we here? Jaffa, Tau’ri kree!"

"Shit!" the youngest Immortal said.

"I take it she didn’t just invite us to tea," Methos whispered.

"I think we’re invited, but I don’t think tea is involved," Casey replied softly.

Osiris approached Casey, ran a finger lazily across the young woman’s cheek. "I should kill you now, for what you did the last time we met," the Goa’uld said softly.

"Hey, if we’d been able to take that sarcophagus out, you wouldn’t be here, cupcake," Casey replied calmly. She watched as the features of the beautiful Goa’uld twisted angrily.

"This time I will kill you!" Osiris hissed.

"Well, you can try," Casey replied.

The Jaffa roughly grabbed the two humans and marched them toward a waiting tel'tak...a small cargo ship used to move between larger ships when the transport rings weren't utilized.

"You just make friends everywhere you go, don’t you?" Methos said, flinching from the hold the Jaffa had on his arm.

"Yeah, real talent of mine," Casey grinned. "But on the upside, these guys don’t speak one word of English, and I’ve been on her ship before."

"And this means?"

"If we’re lucky, we can get one of those gliders and get the hell out of Dodge."

"You can fly one of those machines?" Methos asked, eyes wide.

Casey's grin widened. "Well, not exactly…but how tough can it be if a friggin’ Goa’uld can do it?"

In spite of the fact that they were now prisoners of Osiris, in spite of the fact that he felt as if the Jaffa holding him was about to break his arm, Methos laughed out loud. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"Daniel thinks I’m a goddess," Casey replied, a twinkle in her eye. "Don’t worry Methos. We’ll get out of this. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. I feel it, deep inside," she said, serious once again.

He nodded. He had also heard about Casey and her ‘feelings’. Every SG team she had ever worked with had learned to trust them. That was good enough for him.

They were in a cell identical to the one they had escaped from only a short time ago. Casey was pacing, her fingers beating matching tattoos against her thighs.

Methos was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wall, his eyes closed. "If you don’t stop that I will sit on you," he said at last.

"Sorry," she murmured. She dropped down beside her companion. "It’s just that-" her soft voice broke on a sob.

The young/old man opened his eyes. At the look of pain in hers, he put his arm around her and drew her close.

"He was beating Daniel," she whispered. "I don’t even know…oh, god, I miss him, Methos!"

"Shh. Don’t worry. You’ll be with him soon enough. Besides, haven’t you heard that absence makes the heart grow fonder?"

She tried to smile. She leaned her head against her friend, and the two of them managed to fall into exhausted sleep. 

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