Diamonds are Forever

I carried three plates of "three cheese chicken" to the table then placed one in front of each person, all the while trying to remain upright despite the dog at my feet.

"Such amazing cooking skills!" David observed sarcastically. "Imagine that!"

"Shut up!" I replied, mock-offended, after translating the Goa'uld words that came to mind. "Or would you rather have your hot frozen food still cold?"

"It's fine," he replied before saying grace. Immediately after, he glanced over at the third person. "So how did Matt end up here?"

The teen stared at me, probably wondering how close I'd come to the truth. "His mother was a good friend of mine. In her will, she asked that he stay with me if anything happened to her."

My boyfriend's brows furrowed, concern growing on his face. "What happened?"

"She died of cancer," Matt answered.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright," the boy acknowledged, taking a particularly large bite.

"How was your trip to Germany last month?" David inquired, no doubt changing the subject away from what he thought was a painful subject for the high schooler. Matt perked up at the question; he wanted to know the answer, too.

I shrugged, wondering how I could prase the truth--a trip to the Tok'ra base--to make it sound normal. "Tiring. My travel partner thought about not going at the last minute, but I finally convinced him it would be worthwhile. Jacob doesn't come with us anymore; the council thinks he's more sympathetic with our culture than theirs. I'm glad I don't spend a lot of time over there; they'd probably think I'd turned evil."

"Does your inner child want to travel?" Matt asked, his question really meaning 'does Vinnet want to leave?'

"Yes and no," I replied. "I really enjoy it here, but they could always use my help there."

"Wait, are you German or American?" David interrupted.

"American," I answered honestly, dropping out of the metaphoric speaking.

"Wait, but?" David began, only to be interrupted by the phone.

"Can you answer that for me? It's probably Dad."

He nodded and leaned back to grab the portable phone on the counter behind him. "Hello?" He listened for a moment. "I think you've got the wrong number..."

"Who is it?" I wondered.

"I don't know," David replied. "Here."

I accepted the proffered phone from him. "Hello?"

"Reeses?" Jack's voice came over the phone.

"Here."

"Jacob called with some bad news," he informed me. "Said you'd want to know."

A weight settled in the pit of my stomach; not one of my calls from the SGC had ever begun with 'you'd want to know.' "Yes?"

"Vandrof's host died; he caught a few staff weapons blasts. Jacob wanted you to understand, though, that Vandrof's still alive."

"He needs a...?"

"Yeah. Didn't sound urgent. They've got a tank like Lantash had."

"Okay, thanks." I hung up then stared at my plate.

"He was trying to reach Reeses," David observed.

"That's my nickname at work," I explained, now picking at my food, suddenly not half as hungry as I had been before.

"That's funy. You can't stand peanut butter. I don't know why you even keep some around the house."

You'd laugh if I told you, I thought in reply.

"So how many do they need?" Matt inquired. "Can I--we--help?" he added, taking David into account.

"Just one. Remember the guy you met when you went with me?"

"Which one?"

I frowned, tyring to think of who he'd seen during his off-world excursion. "The pilot on the return flight."

His eyes widened. "Him? What happened?"

"He was shot. I don't know the particular circumstances, but with the the war and all..."

"That's horrible!" David interjected. "Did you know him well?"

I shrugged. "Friend of a friend. She's told me all about him. I finally got to meet him a few months ago."

"I'm sorry. Is he alright?"

"Stable," I replied simply.

"I'll pray for him," David promised.

Matt glanced to my boyfriend, looking worried, but he spoke anyway. "Do you know who you'll take with you to... visit him in the hospital?"

"I'll go with you if you want," the other offered.

"Uh, thanks," I relied, glanced back to the teenager. "But, no, I don't have anyone in mind yet."

The high-schooler grinned mischievously. "David siad he'd go."

I levelled an unappreciative glare in the boy's direction. "I heard him," I growled.

***

After the visitor had left, I sat in my office, pouring over notes on arious possible hosts, but Vinnet thought none of them would make a great host for Vandrof. Of those on that short list, a full half gave me the distinct impression that at the first mention of the word symbiote, a yes would no longer be possible.

I heard a light tap at the office door, and after a long sigh, I looked up to see Matt leaning against the door frame, Garshie at his feet. "Vinnet see anyone who could blend with Vandrof?"

I shook my head then allowed my symbiote to surface. "He is quite open-minded; no host could permanently bother him unless he held any Goa'uld in high regard. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for those we have contacted about becoming hosts. Usually, we find Tau'ri whose personality is imilar to the symbiotes'."

"God provides," Matt noted.

"If you see it that way," Vinnet replied cooly.