#yeah her adoption papers are forged because shes from another planet

[nymphthroughthestargate]

Maybourne's Stunt

a mini fic by mushroom

unintentionally, but this is the fic that tells you Nymph's planet designation!

Jack groaned when he walked into general Hammond's office to see colonel Harry Maybourne standing there.

"always happy to see you, Maybourne." Jack greeted sarcastically, voice dripping with disdain.

Maybourne thrust a piece of paper towards Jack, which he snatched away and glanced over.

"a transfer order? for what?"

Hammond looked furious, which wasn't a good sign. Maybourne stood up straighter, an air of self-importance wafting off of him like a tangible stench.

"I'm to take that alien you found on P3X-483 to the Groom Lake Facility immediately."

Jack blinked. "P3X...?"

Hammond sighed, and shook his head like he didn't want to clarify. "His orders are for Nymph."

That made Jack angry.

"Maybourne, there is no way in hell I'm letting you take away my kid to experiment on her!"

"She's not your kid, colonel!" Maybourne retorted.

at this point, Jack was seconds away from beating him senseless. "I have perfectly forged paperwork saying she is!"

"gentlemen, let's take a second before we do anything we might regret." Hammond gave a look to both of them, trying to get them under control. Jack paced around the room.

"trust me, general, I'm not going to regret anything I'd do to that man."

Maybourne scoffed, but a glare from Jack made him realise that he wasn't joking.

"call the president, tell him it must be a mistake!" Jack slammed his hands on the general's desk, getting more angry the more he thought of what would happen to Nymph if Maybourne were allowed to take her. no, she was definitely better off in Cheyenne mountain with him and his team. they were her family, and he wasn't going to let anything happen to her.

as Hammond picked up the red phone, Jack stormed out to inform Sam, Daniel, and Teal'c about the crap that the disgrace of a colonel was trying to pull.

~ • ~ • ~

"sir, he can't be allowed to take her! it's not right!"

Sam was almost near tears. Daniel wrinkled his nose like he had smelled something foul, and Teal'c looked ready to kill the man.

"I know, Carter, I'm not gonna let him take her. she's our kid, she belongs with us." Jack was scowling, and pacing around Sam's lab.

"if general Hammond can't reach the president - which he hasn't been able to do in a while - how are we going to stop Maybourne?" Daniel asked.

"I don't know, Daniel, but we'll think of something! we always think of something!"

Sam flinched a little at Jack's sudden raise in volume, which made him lower his arms back to his sides and take a breath.

"I don't know how we're going to get her out of this, sir. when Teal’c was infected with those bugs, he ran away; and the Tollan went to the Nox. we need to keep her with us, and the only way to do that is to somehow get those orders rescinded. if the general can't reach the president, or worse can't get him to agree to let her stay, I don't know what else we can do." Sam went to wipe away a tear, and at that moment Nymph walked into the lab, holding her stuffed toy.

"what's going on?" Nymph asked, looking worried. she glanced back and forth at all their faces, growing more concerned as she looked.

"come here, baby," Sam sniffled, holding her arms out in a beckoning manner. Nymph floated over and crawled into Sam's lap, looking up at her tear-stained eyes.

Sam took a deep breath. "a man is trying to take you away, because his team wants to study you. we see you as the wonderful little girl you are, but he and his team will only see you as something that came through the stargate."

"but uncle Teal'c came through the stargate, too!" Nymph exclaimed, pointing at Teal'c.

"yeah, and this man tried to take uncle Teal'c away, too, but we stopped him. and we're going to try our best and stop him from taking you away."

"I will not allow harm to come to you, Nymph," Teal'c said reassuringly. Nymph just held on tighter to Sam. Hammond's voice over the intercom summoned SG-1 to the command room, and Sam simply stood up and carried Nymph with her.

Maybourne was waiting impatiently in stargate command, next to Hammond and in full witness of several SGC personnel when the team walked in.

"finally. I have my orders, colonel. I have to take her with me." Maybourne looked almost proud of himself, which made Jack feel sick.

Nymph read Maybourne, and his motives and morality made her heart sink. as she hid behind Sam, she burst into tears. her wails echoed in the cramped space, and everyone promptly turned to look at Maybourne with the fury of a thousand suns. five separate SFs rolled up their sleeves and stepped forward threateningly. Teal'c simply took one step to close the space between him and Maybourne, his towering physique and freezing glare being all the threat he needed. Jack looked ready to charge. Sam and Daniel were trying their best to calm the cries, but very little information of what could happen, their reassurances fell short.

Hammond was heavily considering letting this wall of protective, angry military men descend on Maybourne, but at the very last minute barked out an order to stand down.

"now listen closely, colonel Maybourne, because I wouldn't lose any sleep over letting them tear you to pieces." Hammond growled, his voice low and furious. "I simply have no desire to file all that paperwork. now take your transfer order, shove it in the garbage, and get the hell out of my base! if you try a stunt like this again, I'll have you thrown out."

Jack turned to walk away, but before anyone could stop him he promptly decked Maybourne in the face.

"no regrets," he said, shaking the hand that punched Maybourne, who ran out of the room with a glare and a really bad bruise.

"you know I'm going to have to court martial you for this, right?" Hammond sighed, a secret gleam of pride in his eye. an SF raised his hand and spoke up.

"court martial him for what, sir? I didn't see anything."

"I didn't see anything, either," a technician added.

"I don't think you'll find anything of note on the security feed, either, sir," Walter Harriman piped up. "unfortunately, the footage of the last two minutes seems to be corrupted beyond repair."

Jack shrugged, and Hammond shook his head with a smile.

"you're a little too lucky, colonel."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, sir." Jack smiled.

"so I don't have to go away?" Nymph asked, worried.

Sam grinned, and picked her up. "nope, you're stuck here with us!"

Nymph smiled wide enough to show her pointed teeth, and her heterochromatic eyes sparkled with glee as she hugged Sam tighter.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

Head cannons for Bruce Wayne and all his kids

Oh shit.  You don’t ask much, do you.  Okay, let’s do it, hell yeah, let’s talk about the Waynes et al at parties.

Bruce is not a particularly social person, left to his own devices, but the charming hedonist Bruce Wayne persona gets a lot done, so he throws galas and parties and shit on a fairly regular basis.  Contrary to popular opinion, he actually doesn’t sleep with models very often (some of those girls are younger than his kids), but he does tend to gravitate toward them.  His kids aren’t surprised by this, because Bruce just sort of orbits between clusters of models and makes sure they’re not drinking underage, but it BAFFLES the press, which is part of the reason that everyone assumes that Bruce Wayne is a playboy who sleeps his way through every model in the city.

Dick is actually genuinely a very charming guy.  He grew up in a circus, which is a huge crowd, so he learned how to talk to people pretty young and kept it up as he got older.  Even on days when he’s not really in the mood to play nice with the crowd, he comes off as endearingly weary rather than prickly or rude.  He’s easily one of the more trusted Wayne kids, especially once he’s off doing his own thing as Nightwing--his grasp on the amount of trouble the press can cause improves exponentially as a cop, so suddenly he’s very good about making sure the others don’t get themselves into too much trouble.

Jason, obviously, is not a presence at parties.  However, every once in a while someone will approach part of the Wayne family with a question about him and it always goes one of two ways.

Reporter: So we’re coming up on the anniversary of Jason Todd’s tragic death, do you have anything to share about your son?Bruce, thinking about the article he read that morning about the Red Hood, teeth gritted: We miss Jason every day.

Reporter: So we’re coming up on the anniversary of Jason Todd’s tragic death, do you have anything to share about your brother?Dick: [twenty minute monologue about his beloved brother intended purely to embarrass Jason in the event that any of it actually makes print]

Tim isn’t super comfortable with large crowds, but he’s generally reliable in terms of not, you know, causing a riot.  That being said, he also tends to run down his mental filter an hour before the gala ends, so the savvier reporters know that they can get the good shit from Tim Drake in the last thirty minutes of his presence at a party.  This can be somewhat ameliorated by giving Tim a more problematic Bat to keep an eye on, but on the other hand sometimes Tim will just lie his ass off to a reporter for fun and that’s the story of how everyone thought for a while that Wayne Enterprises was building a moon colony.

Stephanie actually has a very bad track record.  This is mostly because, while she won’t defend Bruce (”he’s a grown-ass man,” is her reasoning), she’ll go the fuck to bat for most of the others, and has punched out more than one reporter on their behalf.  More commonly, however, she’ll stare a reporter dead in the eye while she breaks their camera or phone or recorder.  One time she slowly tore off a sheet of notes and stuffed it into her mouth and ate it while the reporter gaped at her.  Bruce has paid for several expensive recording devices or cameras because of Steph.

Cass is very cooperative and very uncooperative by turns.  She’ll smile nicely for the camera and play the game, but also God save the upper class snob who actually pisses her off.  Up until she reaches the end of her patience, Cass is implicitly trustworthy.  Afterward, she is a candidate for ending the gala early by way of violence, or she might just disappear and be found four hours later eating an entire platter of hors d’eurves alone on the roof.  

Damian basically cannot be trusted at a gala for love nor money.  He’s absolutely charming, of course, when he wants to be, but he’ll also bite the hand that feeds as soon as he’s bored or no longer getting anything out of it.  He’s on the top of the list to be chaperoned at parties because he’ll tell the press absolutely anything to fuck with people, especially Tim.  One time he successfully sold an entire story to a tabloid about how Tim had kidnapped him once.  Dick is the unspoken Damian-wrangler whenever possible.

Barbara sometimes shows up with her dad.  Not often, though, because she’s undercover, natch.  That being said, after every Wayne gala, Oracle sends the Batcave a Greatest Hits of what the press and social media put out about it.  Duke’s SnapChat usually makes the list.  Babs has handed in more than one Batkid like this, sometimes on purpose and sometimes not.

Duke is So Tired.  He puts up with So Much at parties.  One time he had to grab Cass around the waist and keep her from punching a Times reporter in front of a Daily Planet reporter.  That being said, he has a flourishing SnapChat story full of videos of him narrating shit at parties, including videos ‘guest starring’ the others when they get into trouble.  Bruce has used these videos as evidence to put his kids on probation before.  Bruce knows you tried to stab a reporter with a fork, Steph, Duke has it on video with the caption he asked if it was true she was carrying Dick’s illegitimate child and while your technique was flawless, it would be so, so great if you could just Not.

Alfred is years and years past being surprised by any of this.  It’s a known fact that if any of the Batkids shows up to Alfred with a complaint to the tune of “So-and-So did this, isn’t that shocking”, Alfred will stare directly back at them and say, “You are aware of the fact that I have been supervising Wayne children at galas since before you were born, correct?”  Literally nothing fazes Alfred and nothing has in years.  

Sometimes other people show up.  One time it was this enormous young man built like a fridge with black hair and inhuman blue eyes and a permanent scowl of concentration when he handled delicate glassware (he only broke two) and stayed three inches from Dick at all times.  Another time it was a twelve-year-old who kept petting the sleeve of his suit in fascination, with black hair and the strangest bursts of wisdom.  Sometimes it’s just some random kid--a handsome young black man with strange tattoos on his arms, a skinny boy who talks at a hundred miles an hour and puts away food like it’s his job, just people.  Getting a legitimate answer about these people depends heavily on who you get to first.

Reporter: Mister Wayne, can you tell me who your companion is?Bruce, kind of tired: One of my kids’ friends?  They wanted company.

Reporter: Mister Wayne, can you tell me who your companion is?Tim, whipping out a forged document: Bruce adopted Connor last week, I’ve got the papers to prove it.Bruce, sensing Shenanigans from across the room: Tim, I will pay you to stop.Connor, bristling: Stop taking pictures of me.Reporter: Can we get a last name from Connor?Connor, backing toward the nearest window: NO.