Log: Dr. Oswald & Grier (Benito/John/Helen) Who: Dante Oswald & Irish Grier (Benito/John/Helen) When: January 12th, Late Morning (Backdated) Where: Dr. Oswald's Office What: Grier's Psych Evaluation
Seated behind the large red oak desk was Dante Oswald currently looking through a magazine of sports that he really didn't care about, but there was nothing else to read yet. A pair of frames sat on the bridge of his nose, the leather desk chair he leaned back in was comfortable. The entire room seemed to fit the idea of a psychiatrist from the early 20th century. There was a fainting couch and everything seemed to have a very rustic but Victorian gothic style to it with dark colors and bits of golden decoration. Degrees and certificates announcing his academic achievements littered the wall behind him, a reminder to whoever sat in the chair opposite him that he indeed had the paperwork to back himself up.
The buzz sound of the door meant that there was someone waiting. The magazine closed and Dante glanced briefly at his watch before placing it in a drawer and standing up to greet the person who walked through the door. There was a member of security outside to make sure that whoever came in came without any weapons, but even still, only Mr. Smith really could pose a threat to Dante should they choose to attack without weapons in hand. A press of the button on his desk and the click of the door unlocking followed, and whoever was on the other side would come through. Which would be Irish Grier since it was her day for her evaluation.
He had a sedative and a strait jacket prepared. The sedative was mandatory and the strait jacket just depended on Grier's mood.
Grier had forgotten how long this evaluation was going to take and if he was going to talk to everyone, in which case she dressed very simply. Plain black pants and a long sleeved black shirt. No jewerly. No shoes. Her long hair was tied back and she cut her nails down very low, because some of her people had a problem with Ozzie and might take it out on her body.
She came in and rolled her shoulders as if entering a battle. It was kind of like sticking her in a cage with free range on a lot of personas that would love to come out and unleash their frustrations on her and the one person in the room. Not that men, especially older ones, thought someone like Grier could pose a problem. Except she had six people with their own ways of hurting and it didn't matter what size someone was, or what their skill was.
"Got the goods?" She said, knowing he'd have a sedative and maybe other things just in case. She hadn't seen him since she found out she was having thoughts that weren't entirely hers, and she wondered if he was going to ask her about that since she'd wrote about it.
"As always," he patted the familiar wooden box which had the syringes he needed and folded next to it was the strait jacket. He lifted it up, allowing it to unfold and showed it to her, "I wasn't sure of your size and color, but I thought we'd go with something classic. That is if you think you might need it. I don't know how temperamental some of your companions might be. And frankly, after my last chat with John, it does make me feel a little more self-assured."
"I wouldn't wear it when Benito is around." Grier said with a halfhearted smirk. Benito spent a great part of his life in a straight jacket. The memories were in her head, and it made her a little panicked right then. She licked her lips with a bit of nervous frustration. She didn't mind this - Ozzie was safe. He wouldn't let anyone do anything but it was still a pain in the ass to give everyone that control, and knowing she might slip up in the future because of it.
He put the jacket back down on his desk, free for Grier to take should she want to use it. He motioned for a chair, "Do sit. We'll get you ready then and have a chat with something easy to talk to. Or perhaps willing to talk? Yes? Ruth and Helen are usually pleasant. We'll get down to the less favorable ones eventually." John. Benito. But not Garm. Garm was actually one of Dante's favorites.
"Helen is pleasant if you give her something good to drink, sure. Angelica might be easiest to start out with. Boring for you, maybe, but it's easier. Unless you want to try hypnotism and get someone else completely." Grier leaned forward and put a hand on his desk. She'd been having dreams, black outs, and it had happened when she was a teenager and someone was coming out. She'd only had Ruth for about a year now, so maybe it was a year by year process. She didn't know how many times she'd lived before, or if it was really her, and not just some ability to pick up on people who had lived before. Grier didn't ask the questions like that because the answers would probably give her a headache.
He didn't hate Angelica, but as Grier already addressed, she was boring. Not nearly as entertaining as the others, though she might be good to start off with. But the implication of pulling someone new from Grier's past lives sounded better than talking to the likes of John. Tapping his nose thoughtfully, "We'll have a chat with the regulars for now, then see if we can pluck someone else out of you." If they were successful, he hoped they were interesting.
Dante flipped open the box and pulled the syringe out, along with a rubber band and a small vial of rubbing alcohol with a cotton ball. He walked over to Grier, taking her arm gently and dabbing the now alcohol soaked cotton ball over the vein just below the bend of her elbow. "I've spoken enough with Angelica and I have a bottle of wine that I'm sure Helen might like," he informed politely. Wrapping the rubber band around Grier's arm, he then injected the clear liquid into her blood stream, "Did you want the strait jacket? I do intend to have a chat with our friend John, still."
"We could start with John." Grier said with a smirk. "You know I always like the bad news first." Get him done with now and then by the time she got to be back things would be over and she wouldn't feel the throbbing headache that came with John. She relaxed a little even though she wanted to grab the syringe and jam it into his neck a couple times and see how he liked getting poked. Grier knew these thoughts were not entirely on her own.
"Straight jackets freak me out, Oz. Listen... there's something I wanted to talk about before we started all of this. I need a glass of water."
He raised an eyebrow at her, the drugs would be settling in soon enough but they'd be isolated to her body, she'd still be able to speak normally, or perhaps with a very slight slur. Dante guided Grier to a chair and grabbed a bottle of water from a mini-fridge he kept colas in there should he decide to treat himself to a rum & coke. Twisting the cap off, he handed it to Grier patiently.
"Drink up, you have about ten minutes before the drugs taken effect," he said addressing the water with a nod of his head and leaning against the desk in his suit, folding his arms and looking at her intently, "What did you want to talk about?"
Grier drank some water. It was cool and the drugs always made her feel a bit weird at first, before they kicked in. She had some different kinds of drugs back in her room in a box just in case she needed to knock herself out or make herself completely zoned out so no one could do anything. It was the only defense she had against certain people, was effecting her body.
"You know that I've been getting good at pushing people in and out. I can remember what happens better than I ever have before. I can even realize, consciously, when they are doing something I would oppose and be able to kick them out of the drivers seat, so to speak." Of course she never tried this with John and sometimes Benito could trick her and keep memories from her, but still. She was doing stuff she'd never been able to before. Like forcing people back on her terms, not theirs, for one thing.
"The problem I'm experiencing is that I'm having thoughts I don't think are my own." Said the girl who could turn into six entirely different people, as though she was suddenly a crazy person and not a psychic at all.
While she spoke Dante had taken a notepad out and began writing bits of information she spoke down. He made sure to look up at her, give her eye contact to let her know he was listening to what she was saying, but his hand moved to write the illegible scribble that he'd be the only one to know how to decipher. "And what sort of thoughts would you claim not to be your own?" he questioned and looked up at Grier again, fascinated by the development of her ability and how she was progressing. It was all interesting from a psychological standpoint. Dr. Bishop might not give a rat's ass about someone like Grier, but to Dante she was a treasure trove. Unappreciated and certainly not used nearly enough by Stargate to its advantage.
"Please be specific," he added, "I want to know what makes you feel like they're not your thoughts, beyond any obvious observations."
"Well, I certainly don't want to cut various parts off of someones body for fun and I definitely don't want to have sex with hookers or various people here at the base. I also knit on my own time and, believe me, that's not something I do for recreation." She liked to go skiing and drive fast on her motorcycle and play in the gym and spar with Lex. She didn't like knitting sweaters and abusing hookers.
"Example..." She took a sip of water and smirked. None of this was anything she had admitted to anyone, most of all Lex. "I thought about how fun it would be to stick my dick in Micah's mouth. Only in more of detailed sort of thought... definitely Benito, and I don't have a dick." She added out of annoyance and she rolled her eyes.
He scribble down notes though he found it almost funny the way Benito thought only it would be particularly bad should Grier accidentally move in on those ideas. Considering she had no penis to stick into Micah's mouth, it would be awkward and Grier would be embarrassed. "You're making progress though in pulling him back after he's in control, that's something, though it looks like you'll need to work on your psychic shields further." Dante put the pad away and folded one arm across his chest the other waving side to side as he continued.
"Benito is probably your strongest past life and his impulses are unfortunately ones that are more likely to manifest," he spoke, "You may want to make a point to take the time to enjoy the things that you do enjoy more. It's good that you can at least differentiate the thoughts of others separately from your own. If those thoughts do get stronger, you need to tell me immediately." Because it might mean bringing out those responsible and possibly talking to Dr. Bishop about playing a bit of the evil doctor to make their point. Stargate was the one in charge here, and should they abuse Grier or her body, the consequences wouldn't be pretty.
The drug was probably settling in now, he held up the strait jacket, "We'll talk to John first. You'll want this one should I say something that doesn't make him happy. After John I need to speak with Benito." Which meant that Dante definitely wanted her restrained beyond just medications. John was violet and cruel, Benito was...Benito. He held the jacket open for her to slip on.
"Am I the only patient you have to dress up?" Grier said a little slowly. She hadn't really heard too much of what he said since her vision was a little blurry and she felt dreamy. Like she could fall asleep at any minute, but she was still so very awake, and she battered her eyelashes and did what he asked anyway. Because it was a good idea. Strapping down for the big bad things in life that wanted her to do horrible things. Like hack up a stripper and stick non-existent body parts in various places on other peoples bodies. She nearly giggled at the thought as he tied her up and she moved to the place in her mind which she knew to be John territory. Except that she'd just been thinking about Benito and he, like Dante had said, was her strongest.
He wiggled a little since he was trapped. It took a couple of moments before he looked up and saw a man behind a desk he recognized.
"Hi, Dottore Bello."
"Ah...Benito..." Dante didn't hide the slight disappointment in his voice but he leaned back against his desk, "So glad of you to come out to chat." He'd been hoping for John, he really wanted to have some words with him about what he did to Grier the last time he'd been out. But this would do for now. He moved around to sit behind his desk and sat in the large chair there, leaning back into it and propping his feet onto the surface of the desk.
"So how've you been since the last time we chatted? Anything you want to indulge to me that you might be keeping from Grier?" he smiled faintly, "You know the whole patient/doctor privilege. I treat you as an separate entity from Grier, unless you want her to know everything."
"I've been stuck to the bed," with handcuffs. "the past four times. I end up watching the tellie." Which was something he rather enjoyed about this particular age and wouldn't mind staying in Grier long enough to enjoy all the things that came with such things. "Is this the way I should be forced to live?" Benito believed they should share a body and not be brought out out of necessity every now and then. He believed himself a generous sort of man.
"Why---ahhh. You drugged us." He was going to ask why he was drooling. Then he smiled lazily. "Could you wipe? I appear to have no control of my hands."
Dante wrote down a couple of notes and spoke as he sketched a picture of a silly face on the corner of his pad, "A little drooling never hurt anyone. And there's nothing wrong with a bit of television. There are some good shows on. Reruns are always fun too. For example. Sandford & Son. Fantastic show, now. It's been awhile since we've talked, I'm sure there's more you've done than just watch TV. Any reason in particular that Grier might stick you to a bed?"
"I fucked her boyfriend." He said, pouting. "I do not see the problem. He didn't know and I have every right to a sex life." He licked his lips and tried to catch the drool since the handsome doctor wasn't going to help. He growled and then let out a whine. "Come on, Dottore. Fammi leccarlo dalle palle al capo... ahhh. I lie a little. You don't really want to talk about reruns, do you? I can answer questions for you she wouldn't. I know her mind. I can search it, even." He grinned, but continued to try to lick the drool, which was only making her chin very shiny.
"English, Benito, English. I don't speak Italian, probably never will, and I'd prefer that you use a language that I understand," Dante tapped his pen against his desk, "With Lex? Really. I can't imagine why she'd be upset with you at all." A very subtle eye roll and the sound of his pen scraping onto the paper again, "So you can search it? Interesting. I take it that's how you were able to bed Lex without him knowing? Are you also able to do things without her being aware?" Which wouldn't surprise him, but he'd like Benito to say it himself.
"I can search her thoughts, memories, and block things from her. Do you think I can take things away from her? That would be interesting." He spoke carefully, because his English was good only because of Grier. In his own time, he didn't even know a single word of the language, and now he was speaking with a drool. Only because he thought that Ozzie was good looking and liked to look at him and give him whatever he wanted.
He put his feet down and slipped on a pair of glasses, "You seem to enjoy torturing, Grier. I'm sorry, the word torture seems a tad cruel, right? You seem to enjoy making Grier's life...difficult. Any reason in particular? Perhaps angry that she is the dominant personality and you're just along for the ride and that's how you entertain yourself?" It was just a series of questions, nothing sounding personal. If anything Dante looked entirely took relaxed as a girl currently possessed by the past life of a psycho sitting in a chair drooling on herself.
"You all have the wrong perception. We share a body. It shouldn't matter who is a vessel. We should help one another. Give each other time and enjoyment. I don't get to do anything. The one she thinks about, the one she fears most? He gets to kill. Some get to drink and have fun and others get to have hobbies. I am all alone. I am tied to the bed watching your television shows." So he was going to find a way to push Grier back once and for all. Perhaps even do so by pretending to be her. He had access to her memories, so he could easily decide what she'd do or say to someone, and make it seem convincing.
"Fascinating," was Dante's minimal response because he was making notes under Benito's name under the paper. Could be problematic. Shouldn't be brought to the surface often. Maybe once a month until he learned better. He didn't like the idea of disposing of a psychic like Grier, not with such a unique ability, but if Benito got out of hand, he might have to recommend research into the termination of that past life. If not further. Which was even more a pity because Dante actually liked Grier as a person. Very pleasant and seemed to handle all of this well enough.
Chewing on the end of his pen, he stopped to look up at Benito, "I think that's a long enough chat for now, Benito. Get John, would you?"
He muttered in Italian for a length of time that seemed to end very abruptly. "I do not know how. We do not sit around having conversations, you see. I've never talked to them. I'd love to, though. John sounds lovely." However he was feeling particularly tired and didn't want to talk to the pretty man who didn't want to talk to him. Maybe another day. Perhaps when he was Grier and no one knew. It was a plan.
After nearly ten minutes Grier's eyes closed and when she woke it wouldn't be her. It was a grunt and more jerks of the chair because John Baxter didn't know that Grier had been drugged, so he would be as well, and that they were straight jacket and tied to a chair. He growled and bit her lip hard enough till he delt enough pain and tasted blood. He stopped moving after a while and simply stared at Dante, a small smile forming.
Dante stood up from his desk as he moved to grab a manila folder from a file cabinet that sat near his desk. It was John's file and unfortunately rather bare considering how few times he'd been able to speak with the wretch. Grier didn't like bringing him out much and for that Dante respected, he could see from a psychological stand point at how John affected her mood. But this was a psych evaluation. "So John, according to the medical report here, your last mission was in...August 4th. You were sent out to execute Joanne and upon returning proceeded to cut Ms. Grier's chest open." There was a pause before he continued, leaving room for John to say anything should he want to.
"You do realize that the more damage you do to her, whatever reason you decide to do so, could very well lead to you never coming out again. Or at least far less often than you're allowed to," he put the open folder on his desk, "I'm here to make sure that you can be allowed out, and so this would be a good time to tell me how I should encourage Grier to have you out more often."
John shrugged as much as he could. He wouldn't have said anything, but he wanted out. Not tied to a chair. There were things he could be doing. He'd died of a heart attack and Grier had a young body. There was so much he could do and never get in trouble for it, because it would all be on her.
"You are the shrink. You tell me what I need to do." He growled low in her throat.
"Yes, I'm the shrink, but I'm here to point out what you might be doing wrong, how you choose to handle it is merely your choice," Ozzie responded in a light-hearted manner, "I'm merely presenting the fact that if you happen to damage the goods, you'll unfortunately have to suffer a consequence." He clicked the pen repeatedly, it annoyed him but really he was testing John's temper, how much he would stand for, how much before he tried to get up again.
"Might be doing something wrong does not mean I am." He watched the man click the pen. He wanted to stick the pen in his ear very hard. Repeatedly. "I do not know how long I have been out. A day, or two, doing as I wish is not so much to ask."
The clicking continued and he smiled, "Now, just some routine questions. When in control of Grier's body, how do you respond to pain? Do you still not feel it? Also, in relations to what happened with Joanne, I'm curious to know your feelings while you tracked her down, what happened when you...disposed of her, and your feelings afterward leading up to Grier's injury."
"Your questions are meaningless." John closed his eyes. "I feel pain. I like it. I like this body. I like giving this body pain. I have no idea who Joanne is, but if I hurt her she probably deserved it and I liked it. Is that enough for you? If you aren't going to let me out then I'd much rather not be present. Behaving, as you say, does not get me out. I have not been out since I taught her a lesson for keeping me in. Behaving will not work and I will not attempt it again." He shifted in the seat as much as possible. "You should kill her. You should kill us all."
"What makes you feel that way?" Dante went on, unfazed by John's words and merely interested in answers to his questions so he could simply organize it all on paper later. He continued the clicking, "Why the need to kill all of you? She'll be reborn and then just like you, some back life that gets to come out an play occasionally, and then you have to wait all that time again. Hmm?"
"I don't care." John just wanted other people to suffer. He believed that he was the best and if Grier were to die, perhaps someone new would be better. More like him. Someone less fragile and ignorant. "We're done if you cannot help me." And since the chair was not attached to the ground, thrashed around enough till he landed head first on the ground, crushing Grier's head against the floor and causing a black out.
Dante cursed and stood up, moving over quickly to where Grier had fallen and lifted the chair away from her, seating it back up. The pen was discarded on his desk and he was lifting Grier in his arms carefully, placing her gently on the fainting couch he had mostly because it amused him. Oh, and it was great for when he wanted to take a nap too. In one of his filing cabinets was a blanket and pillow he had for such occasions.
A sigh and he was moving his large arm chair over to where she was. He pulled out a small vial and opened it, sticking it under Grier's nose. Smelling salts, that he hoped would wake her, otherwise he'd have to take her to Dr. Bishop, which would just annoy him in the end.
Groaning and a splitting headache woke her up. Her eyes came open and she saw, very closely, Dante Oswald. Her arms were useless and she felt like someone had beat the living crap out of her. Something on her face hurt and when she opened her mouth she realized it was her jaw. She'd complain. However, having Dante Oswald so close to her, Helen couldn't help but lean forward and lick his cheek.
"Hello, Handsome."
The slick feel of Grier's tongue against his cheek had him panic for a moment that Benito had returned. However the severe lack of Italian and the slight change in pitch to her voice made it obvious who it was. Helen. She was a minx, a vixen if Dante ever met one and thankfully he hadn't been that tipsy in order to stop a sixteen year old Grier possessed by a seductress from making him break a law. He didn't believe in sleeping with underage girls. He liked his women. Preferably naked and dancing against a pole for him to watch. Every man had their vices. Oswald enjoyed cigars, drinking, and exotic dancers.
"Nice to see you again, Helen," he moved her so she was lying on her side and slowly began to undo the latches and ties of the straitjacket. Helen, unlike Benito or John, didn't need to be restrained, though she'd find her body still very weak in general. By the time he'd have Angelica around the drug would wear off completely and he had a book about unicorns ready for her in his drawer. "Some wine?" he moved away from her, absently rubbing at his cheek and taking a bottle of wine out from a cabinet.
"It's been a while." She noted as she laid there looking up and wondering why she felt so very drunk. Had Grier been drinking again? Although she couldn't draw back any memories which meant Grier was getting better at blocking and people had come before her. Which she hated. Helen imagined she ought to be number one. After a few moments of loving the fact she was alive, and could hear and taste and move she sat up.
Only one glass was served and as he returned he presented it to her, "Here. It's a good year." The last time he drank during a session with Helen, needless to say, it had embarrassed Grier, made himself feel like an idiot, and seemed to tear down a patient/doctor trust that he usually prided himself on. "So, what have you been up to? I take it that Grier is allowing you out regularly, correct?" Or more so than others.
"Thank you," She said with an attempted smile. All the picture coming into clarity. Grier was often drugged for the more annoying members of their little club. Helen looked at him and shook her head. "Not as often as usual. If it's a new year, not in over a month. Which is a little depressing. I do love ringing in the new year." She wiped her face off on the sleeve of the shirt she was wearing. Too much clothes. Grier was always wearing pants and long sleeved shirts. Thick socks. Thick shoes. Where was the pizazz? Helen drank the rest of her wine and sat it on Dante's desk.
"How are you?" She asked, honestly wanting to know.
Grier was supposed to bring at least one of them out on a weekly basis. She apparently had not been doing so which meant that Dante would have to talk to her about that. He moved to sit in his desk chair, drawing his pad onto his lap again again and looking up at her with a pleasant smile, "I'm fine, thank you, Helen. Unfortunately this meeting is business, so I'll have to move past the usual small talk." He motioned to the wine bottle on his desk, "Feel free to have another glass as we move along." Writing Helen's name in nearly illegible writing he started again.
"Any reason in particular Grier might not want to bring you out? What happened the last time?" it seemed to be a trend in Grier keeping her past lives subdued. John hadn't been out since August and Benito seemed to force himself out more than he was really allowed. And they tended to drag Ruth out when they wanted to see how accurate her precognition was. But Grier was usually drugged up severely when that happened. "I'm not asking because I'm assuming you did it, but it seems to be a trend."
"I don't have access to her memories, Dante. I never have. Last thing I heard I wasn't good for anything except being used as a party favor. Maybe she hasn't been to any parties lately?" Helen guessed with a shrug. She leaned forward, a little off base, since she was drugged. She poured herself more wine and then smiled. "You have a cigarette, darling? A cigar. I don't mind at all." She licked her lips at him and frowned that, although Grier was now of age, this man still wasn't going to pay her attention. "I just want to taste something smokey and rich before I get dragged back again."
Opening up a a drawer he pulled out a box of cigars and opened it, offering one to Helen with a smile, "She should be bringing you out more often though. If anything to see your affect on others around the base." Though he, himself, was more than aware of the charms of Helen. He wanted her to interact with people that weren't Stargate big wigs or horny security guards. "I'd like to hear about how Lex reacts to you, or when she spends time with Betty, June, and Winnie." He made a notation in a margin that he'd like Beck to peer into her head for a week or so. Just to see if those impulses earlier she spoke of could be differentiated.
"You want me to see if I can affect people around the base? Sweetie, if you want something from me, all you have to do is ask." She licked her lips at him and pouted like the drama queen she used to be, but rolled her eyes and took one of the cigars out and lit it up. "Sounds like you want to cause some trouble. I'm sure Lex won't have anything to do with me, and those girls... not that fun." She admitted with a slow slur, considering she was drugged and drinking.
"I'm afraid after a few puffs of that I'll have to take it back and you'll have to relinquish command to Grier once more," he said calmly. He spoke with Garm and Ruth on a regular enough basis that interviewing them wasn't necessary. What he really wanted to do, though, was try a bit of hypnotism. See if there was anyone that was trying to find their way out. Dante pulled a cigar out for himself, slipping it into his mouth and then strike a match against the side of its box and lighting the tip. "Lex has already had to deal with Benito, apparently, so when you deal with him, I'd prefer you at least tell him who you are."
"I can do that... if you promise to set up more meetings and let me out. Even just to let me sit here, alone, drinking. I do like to be out. Some conversation wouldn't kill, now would it? I can be good. I don't care about causing her any problems. I just want to live a little." Helen grinned again and sat the cigar down, downed the last of the wine, and leaned back into the chair comfortably.
Dante cocked his head to the side, "I can arrange for that easily, Helen." She was the least of his fears. If Benito or John ever made requests or demands like that, he'd have laughed in their faces. But with ones like Helen or Angelica, he could pull a few strings. But he did add as an after thought, "No instigating illicit affairs though. I support Grier's relationship with Lex because it seems to give her a sense of normalcy. So kindly don't toy with that part of her personal life."
His pen tapped against the desk a couple of times before allowing Helen to enjoy herself a bit more. He never understood why Grier didn't bring her out more often. She was charming, as long as she wasn't trying to get you drunk. "Okay, I believe it's time now, Helen. I'll probably be seeing you again soon." He smiled briefly, pushing the ash tray towards her and then waiting for her to hand over the reins to Grier.
She wasn't too picky about things and when Grier came back into her own head she felt like she'd been hit by a bus. Repeatedly. She could remember fragments of conversation, but since it came from her own voice she also got a lot of inner thoughts mixed and couldn't really be sure who said what. Although she had a mental image of Ozzie naked and it made her make a frustrated noise as she reached forward to brace herself on the edge of his desk. Not in the straight jacket anymore and her mouth tasted like cigar. She licked her lips. Wine, too.
"Was that everyone or.... more tomorrow?" Because she was done. Grier wasn't going to put herself through anymore. "Did you give me something else? I feel dizzy."
"Helen came out for a chat, she had some wine," Dante was moving around the table to support her, "And that's enough for today. I'm sorry about the headache you may have. John was a bit temperamental and you might get a bump." He pointed to his own head where hers might feel the soreness of the fall. Once he was sure she was steady he was standing again, going back to her folder, and closing it simply. They were done for today, and she was probably worn out.
He moved about his usual business, "You need to bring Helen out more often, and keep John restrained as much as possible." Which was his nice way of saying that Grier needed to do something about keeping the John out of the picture. John wasn't let out often, and he wasn't going to have him come out under his own request. However if Smith decided otherwise, she'd have to obey, even if Dante would advise against it.
"Grier," he paused serving himself wine, looking up to see that she was already at the door. "About Benito...be careful. In fact I'd recommend not allowing him out for a good while. He's getting a little too comfortable in your skin." It was the best warning he could give her without divulging anything that Benito had actually said. But his concern for Grier to keep her identity for herself was his priority. He liked Grier, probably because she saw him regularly.
Insanity was entirely too common among those at Stargate, and he preferred to keep the sane ones around for as long as possible.