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The key to power...is patience.

[A smirk blooms on his pouted lips. Hit a nerve, did he? Better make sure to go back and tapdance all over it.]

That's the rub, isn't it? Willingly. Kind of an important qualifier.

[Being obtuse on purpose. How's that last thread of patience holding on?]

I am not unable to grasp it. I'm very able to grasp that wormholes in Peacekeeper hands would have the same damn effect.

In my hands, Crichton. Do you think, for a moment, I'd be letting people like Grayza be in control of such decisions?

I've seen you on the end of her leash, Grasshopper. Or, should that be boot licker?

[The mental image still makes him shudder.]

I did what I had to to survive. As have you. Tell me: how did that end up?

[He's hiding his hands behind his back, which is for the best as they are very, very eager to rip his head from his body.]

[Something malicious flashes in Crichton's suddenly cold blue eyes.]

You already know the answer to that question.

[Scorpoius isn't the only one straining to keep his hands to himself now. Crichton's leather gloves creak as he flexes and unflexes his fingers.]

I just gotta know. After everything you've done. After everything. Do you really think I'd ever trust you?

[He is silent for a long moment at that, considering the question.]

Trust, no. But work alongside? You know my objectives. My methods. That much could be accomplished if you were not so foolishly stubborn...and so foolishly stubborn merely out of spite.

See, that's the part you really don't get. Oh, yeah, I'm spiteful against your crocodile ass but this... I'm not keeping this from you for spite alone. This power isn't yours to have. The Ancients didn't give it to you. I'm not going to, either.

[A stony silence.]

Then we are condemned, to this cycle, until one of us is dead.

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