Title: Personal Questions

rated: G

Pairing: Sam/Ba’al

For: A challenge on rolleson’s journal.

“If you could rule over any Goa’uld, who would it be?”

Sam frowned. “That’s what we humans call a ‘hypothetical’ question,” she growled, wondering why it was so difficult for Lord Mister Allknowingness Ba’al to grasp the basic concept of the game.

Ba’al ran a hand over his wrist, reminiscing the loss of his hand device. “What’s wrong with that?”

“This game only works if you ask personal questions.”

“Define personal…”

Sam picked up a stone from the cave-like environment, and threw it as hard as she could into the blackness that surrounded them. The single pen-light she had found in her pocket was running low on battery and provided only a dim, yellowish hue. “Something secret, that you wouldn’t normally tell other people – or, aliens in your case.”

“I would never normally tell anyone the answer to that,” replied Ba’al truthfully.

“Still, it doesn’t count.”

“Fine, how about you start then?”

“How many queens have you had?”

Ba’al smirked, “That’s hardly very personal.”

“Then why did you avoid it?”

“Eleven.”

“Eleven!”

“My turn then?” said Ba’al, looking pleased. “What is your iris code?”

“Very funny,” said Sam, pointing the light straight into his eyes as punishment.

He batted her away. “Not personal enough?”

“Look, I’ll ask another one – see if you get the hang of it. What is the name of your host?”

“No idea.”

“Typical Goa’uld,” she rolled her eyes.

“Is it my turn again?”

“I wish it weren’t…”

“What’s the gate address of Atlantis?”

“You’re really struggling with the difference between ‘personal’ and ‘secret’ aren’t you?”

“Do you find me attractive?”

Sam coughed. “Beg your pardon?”

“Is that not a legitimate question?”

“Uh…”

“What?” Ba’al tried in vain to look innocent.

“There must be a better way to pass the time…”

“Rescue is four hours away, unless you have a better idea…” Ba’al looked her up and down suggestively.

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, I do not find you attractive,” replied Sam sternly.

“Bullshit.”

Sam shook her head. “No, you can’t call ‘bullshit’ on a personal question. That’s a different game altogether.”

“I grow tired of these Earth games. ‘Enslavement’ is far more amusing, yet regrettably illegal on this planet.”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes,” sighed Sam, shaking her head in dismay. “I find you attractive. But now it’s my turn thank god…”

“I am god.”

Sam shook her head, “Oh boy…”