"Lunch?" Daniel tossed a pomegranate to Hades.

She caught it. "So you have that myth."

"Yep." Daniel pulled a chair up across from Hades. He set a closed file on the table. "Is it true?"

Hades leaned back in her chair and rolled her eyes around the concrete walls. She paused briefly, craning her neck back to get a good, long look at the surveillance camera. "No. Dad needed his son to look more main-stream. No one would believe mass murder, so kidnap and rape had to do." She pressed her fingers into the pomegranate, then though better of it and put it down.

"Worried you'll stain you're cloths?" Daniel attempted a scathing remark. He needed to practice.

"Naw." Hades looked down at the cheap cotton. "If anything it might improve it."

He returned to interrogating. "So you are male?"

"Where did that come from?" Hades was surprised, and a tad insulted.

Daniel rejoiced inwardly. It felt good to be surprising Hades for a change. "Son. You described yourself as a son."

"It's a very personal question." She squinted a bit and flicked her eyes to the ceiling. "It also doesn't make sense. I'm—" She waved her hand over the nape of her neck, "back here."

Daniel sighed, "You once had a male host."

"I'm not answering that sober."

"Why?"

"The usual reasons." He raised an eyebrow, so she continued, "Because it is a long and—" Hades suddenly became very interested in a scratch on the table. She ran a nail along it. She looked up at Daniel through her eyelashes. "Complicated story."

"O.K. then." Daniel shuffled opened the file in a manner he hoped was impressive. Inside was a crash course in interrogating goa'uld. Tips, priority questions, etc. It was the only way General Hammond would let him talk to Hades. But hades didn't need to know that. "How about another story?"

"Shoot."

"What are you doing with Cronus' territory?"

"Oh." Hades clucked in disappointment. "That's an easy one. Inheriting it. Kinda. I don't really do anything? I'm more of a figure head."

Daniel shuffled the papers again. Was there a pointer for dealing with counter-culture goa'uld? Of course not, they were called tok'ra and Hades was not one of them. So what was she? "Who does run things?"

"Miranda." Daniel gave her a blank look. "First prime. Wonderful woman. Very good at her job."

"And her job is, exactly?"

"Part time empire-to-republic transitioner." Hades bit her lip, then frowned. "Is that a word?"

"No." He was starting to regret wanting to talk to this goa'uld.

Hades nodded thoughtfully. She perked up. "I declare it to be."

Finally some God like behavior. "It's also not a job."

Hades shook her head. "No. It's definitely a job. I've seen her doing it."

Daniel glared at her for a moment. Hades waited patiently. "Fine. Next question. Who are you?"

"Hades."

"What is your relation to Cronus?"

Hades opened her mouth and closed it again. She dropped her happy-go-lucky demeanor and studied him carefully. "Aren't you the…mythology expert?" She over enunciated the title.

"Yes, but myths and reality don't always match up. I want to know what you actually are." He crossed his arms and waited.

Hades gave in. "I'm his son." She leaned forward. "His good for nothing, black sheep, prodigal son." She smirked. Then blinked and faltered. "I'm sorry. I'm making you uncomfortable." She shrank back into the chair.

"No." Daniel swallowed. He close the file and pushed back his chair. "I think that's—"

"May I ask a question?"

He froze. "Sure." He kicked himself inwardly. Why did he say that?

"May I have pen and paper?" She was serious.

"Probably not. Out of curiosity, why?"

Sarcastic incredulity danced across her face and disappeared. "I want to write." She leaned forward again. Slower this time, as if she worried she would scare him off. "You're very inspiring."

"Thanks." He walked to the door. Fighting the whole way not to run.

"One more?" He turned. Hades made direct eye contact. There was an intensity in her eyes—but that wasn't it. A curiosity—but that wasn't quite right either. Curiosity was there, yes, but also a note of care. He wanted to say empathy, but that wasn't something goa'ud did. "Who was she?"

"What?"

Hades looked away to search for the words. She took a breath. "People who've… lost someone. They have this look." She looked up at him, hoping he'd understood.

"Sha're."


Daniel returned to the debriefing room to find a crowd at the window and the gate open. He had heard the alarm on the way, but hadn't paid attention. He was too lost in thought.

He found and unoccupied section of glass and peered down.

The iris was shut.

A silver haired first prime was standing on the ramp. Which didn't make any sense because the iris was shut. She was dressed in a grey business suit. Absurdism was obviously the order of the day, so Daniel resolved to roll with the punches from that time forward.

The jaffa looked down her nose at General Hammond and the heavily armed Stargate personnel arrayed before her. "I need my god back."


The world and characters depicted in this story belong to Roland Emmerich, Dean Devlin, Jonathan Glassner, Brad Wright, and the Sci-Fi Channel. No profit is made off their use herein.