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Happy SG-1 Gen Fic Day, everyone
Not sure what I'm talking about? Take a look at previous round-ups for Gen Fic Days and Alphabet Soups.
Comment here with links to new fic, older fic, commentfic and drabbles, recs, meta, picspam, vids - anything, as long as it's gen and related to SG-1. Shameless self-promotion is cheerfully encouraged! The theme of the day is On-world, although fanworks can involve any subject.
If you're an On-world Alphabet Soup contributor, this is where you post links to your story. If you're unsure of procedure, please take a quick look here.
On Tuesday, I'll post a round-up of all links and (hopefully) the complete anthology of On-world Alphabet Soup.
Let's revel in the squee! :)
Not sure what I'm talking about? Take a look at previous round-ups for Gen Fic Days and Alphabet Soups.
Comment here with links to new fic, older fic, commentfic and drabbles, recs, meta, picspam, vids - anything, as long as it's gen and related to SG-1. Shameless self-promotion is cheerfully encouraged! The theme of the day is On-world, although fanworks can involve any subject.
If you're an On-world Alphabet Soup contributor, this is where you post links to your story. If you're unsure of procedure, please take a quick look here.
On Tuesday, I'll post a round-up of all links and (hopefully) the complete anthology of On-world Alphabet Soup.
Let's revel in the squee! :)
Tags:
'M' is for 'You Must Remember This'
Jack O’Neill really hates time-travel.
The rest is HERE.
K is for Knit
http://wyomingnot.dreamwidth.org/789848.html
L is for Lockdown
L is for Lockdown
It hadn't been until 2050 hours Saturday evening, almost four hours after SG-3's return – and one hour after they'd started showing signs of serious illness – that Janet abruptly realised there was a bigger problem afoot than she'd thought. When a tech from one of the labs on level twenty had wandered in asking for calamine lotion or the equivalent, one glance at the small reddened area on the man's neck had sent her heart into her throat and her hand to the telephone.
Read the rest here: Alphabet Soup: L is for Lockdown
U is for Unheimlich
ANYWAY. Soup!
U is for Unheimlich.
S is for Sprained Ankle
"Hey, isn't that Daniel's car?" Sam asked.
The colonel pulled up in front of her house, set his parking brake and turned off the ignition. "Is it?" He climbed out and walked around the front of the truck.
Sam hurried to open the passenger door and swing her legs out. It was better to establish right away that she wasn't helpless. But the cane Janet had given her felt awkward, and she was actually glad for the helping hand as she climbed down from the truck. When the colonel's hand continued to hover at her elbow, however, she said, "Thanks, sir; I've got it now." The hand went away, but he continued to hover, in that overly casual way that wouldn't fool a two-year-old.
When the hand returned as she reached the foot of the porch steps, she gave into the inevitable and accepted his help to her front door. The colonel reached past her and rang the doorbell.
Sam looked at him. "Definitely Daniel's car."
He just smiled. "Should be open."
Sam turned the knob and swung the door inwards, nearly hitting Daniel with it. "Oh, sorry!" She stepped into the house. "Oh, good, you turned the a/c on." She wiped away a bead of sweat from her temple.
"Yeah, sorry," the colonel said. "Gotta get the truck fixed one of these days." He crowded into the hallway behind her. "Daniel? Want to give us enough room that I can shut the door and stop air conditioning the neighborhood?"
Daniel stepped back a scant foot.
"Sheesh," the colonel muttered. "Excuse me, Carter."
Sam moved enough so that the door could be shut. "Daniel?"
Daniel appeared to be telegraphing a message to the colonel with his eyebrows. After years of trying, Sam had stopped attempting to intercept and decipher those messages. She sniffed the air. "What's that I smell?"
Daniel gave her a sudden smile of blinding charm. "Oh, that's Teal'c, in the kitchen."
"This I have to see." The colonel squeezed past them both.
"Come sit down," Daniel urged. "How are you feeling? How's the ankle? You must be tired. And hot. Jack really does need to get the air in his truck taken care of." All the while he was inexorably moving them into the office she'd set up in the front room and guiding her into a chair.
"Daniel."
"You just rest there." Daniel patted her shoulder. He jerked a thumb toward the doorway. "I'll just…"
"Daniel!"
But he was already out in the hallway, where he turned to give her another bright, false smile before sliding the pocket door closed.
Sam stared open-mouthed at the door for a few moments, then set her jaw. She got up from her chair, turned away, and hobbled toward the entrance into the dining room, where there was a second pocket door. Silently easing it part-way open, she moved into the dining room, limping straight ahead toward the living room. She didn't even make it halfway.
Through the archway on her right she could see down the hall to the kitchen, where the colonel stood at the counter, his back to her. Until he turned around and started back to the front room. Their eyes met. Sam froze like a deer caught in the headlights. The colonel darted in from the hallway and turned her around. "Now, Carter, you should be resting. Not traipsing around."
Sam tried to resist their progress back into the office, but when you couldn't plant both of your feet and had a large and determined man, who you were accustomed to obeying, who had other ideas… In no time she was back in the chair she'd just left. "Sir, I'd really like to put my feet up. I'd be much more comfortable in the living…"
The colonel wheeled her desk chair over and carefully lifted her injured foot up onto it. "How's that?"
The foot immediately started to throb, but Sam wasn't about to admit it. She gritted her teeth. "I'd really be much more comfortable…"
The hallway pocket door opened and Daniel slid into the room, shutting it behind him with a furtive glance down the hall toward the kitchen. "Hey, Sam. How's the foot?"
"The foot?" Sam took a deep breath. "The foot is going to kick somebody's butt if you guys don't tell me what's going on."
The colonel tutted disapprovingly. "No need to get snippy, Major. Teal'c's cooking. That's all. I'll go check in on him, shall I?" He exited through the door Daniel had just entered, giving Daniel what was undoubtedly a meaningful look on his way past.
Sam glared at the closed door, then shifted the glare to Daniel, who was folding and unfolding his arms while appearing fascinated by her bookshelves. He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses a few times before finally looking in her direction. "So."
"So what’s Teal'c cooking, and how big of a disaster area is my kitchen?"
"Oh, we'll clean it up," Daniel said hastily. He tried out another smile on her. It faded quickly as she continued to glare. "He's making soup."
"It's 86 degrees out!"
"Well. But." Daniel waved a hand at her. "It seemed appropriate."
"I am not sick! I have a sprained ankle. I'm not an invalid, and I don't need chicken soup!"
"If only."
She hadn't noticed the colonel coming back in via the dining room. Startled, she jumped a little, jarring her ankle. "Ow! What?"
"What?" He slid the door shut.
"'If only' what?"
His face was a strange mixture of concern for her pain and the bland look that meant he was hiding something. "Nothing. You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Okay. Good. Excellent. Oh, Daniel."
Daniel's expression was wary. "Yes."
"It's time."
Daniel closed his eyes briefly. "Oh, hooray."
The colonel moved to usher Daniel through the hall door. "Pray for us," he whispered to Sam as he slid the door shut behind them.
This time Sam stayed put in her chair while she contemplated just what sort of painkiller Janet might have given her, that would confuse her into thinking her life had turned into something strongly resembling a French farce.
The colonel returned. The look on his face was one Sam couldn't remember ever having seen before. "Definitely not chicken soup."
Daniel was right behind him, gulping from a tall glass of water. He closed the door. "Jaffa soup," he gasped.
"Gimme that." The colonel took the glass and drank.
"Smells weird, looks disgusting, tastes…" Daniel shuddered.
"Do you think he could tell we hated it?" the colonel asked.
"I really don't think we were very successful at hiding it, Jack."
Sam was listening to the unmistakable sound of her garbage disposal unit. "Yeah, he knows." The sound stopped. Footsteps approached. The colonel thrust the empty water glass at Daniel and struck a nonchalant pose.
The pocket door slid open. Teal'c stood in the hallway looking at them.
"Hi, Teal'c," Sam said, smiling in what she hoped was a kindly fashion.
Teal'c entered the room and stood at attention before her, hands clasped behind his back. "Major Carter, I regret to inform you that I have failed in my attempt to create a healthful meal for you to enjoy. I am deeply chagrined."
"Oh, hey," Sam said. "It's okay, Teal'c. I couldn't begin to tell you how many meals I've tried to prepare that have ended up going down that disposal. I really appreciate the fact that you made the effort, honestly. Please don't feel bad about it, okay? Promise me?"
Teal'c looked stoic. His head dipped an inch in acknowledgment.
The colonel went over to place a hand on Teal'c's shoulder in manly commiseration. "I think what Teal'c is trying to say here, Carter…" He waved a hand to encompass himself and Daniel. "What we're all trying to say here, is…"
"What Jack's trying to say, Sam," Daniel said, bending down over her solicitously and placing a hand gently on her arm, "is: Where do you keep your takeout menus?"
Sam burst into laughter.
The colonel pointed a finger in the air. "Yes, that's it. In a nutshell."
"Middle drawer next to the sink," she managed to say.
"I am purchasing."
"Buying, Teal'c. You're buying." Teal'c and the colonel left the room.
Daniel rubbed his hands together. "Let's get you more comfortable in the other room."
Still laughing, Sam just nodded, and allowed herself to be helped up from the chair. She was clearly going to spend the next few days being hovered over, cosseted, and pampered, so she might as well just give in now.
Who knew a sprained ankle could be so entertaining?
http://sid.dreamwidth.org/294265.html
http://sidlj.livejournal.com/293935.html
P is for Plan
O is for Observance
And Jack... well, Jack gave the standard military talk: base SOP, chain of command, what meals to skip in the mess. But mostly, he spent a lot of time holed up in the office he liked to pretend he didn't have, because General Hammond seemed to consider these weeks excellent opportunities for Jack to catch up on his paperwork.
He glared at the numerous requisition forms and staffing evaluations and budgets threatening to collapse his desk. After a moment’s thought, he reached past all of those to pick up the orientation course evaluations for the previous day’s presentations. That had been all Daniel and Carter; these would be a breeze. The only negative those two ever got was overusing geek speak. He could sign off on these in short order and head to lunch with a (mostly) clear conscience.
He picked up the first form, eyes skimming quickly almost to the end before stopping abruptly and rereading several sections in consternation. With a mental shrug, he put that paper off to the side and grabbed the next one, this time reading carefully from the start. A frown crossed his face, and he turned the page over as if looking for the April Fool’s sign. Of course, it was June, but there had to be some explanation for the out of character remarks, and suddenly moving backward in time wasn't entirely out of the question.
Jack thumbed through the next several evaluations, which were all substantially the same, with a sinking heart. There went his quiet lunch. What the hell had Daniel been up to yesterday?
Read the rest at my DW or my LJ.
V is for Vodka and Victories (sp. pyrrhic)
by
C is for Camping
You wouldn't believe how many tabs I had to open for this.
C - Colorado Springs, cook, cabin fever, conspiracy, climbing the walls, comforts of home, ceremony, camping, Chicago, cleaning crew, coffee, costume party
The first time Teal’c got to see the world outside the Mountain they were chasing a shapchanging alien bomb. Teal’c hadn’t been on Earth more than a few weeks then. He got his information about his new alien home from CNN, and he thought Earth was a pretty scary place.
Jack had offered to show him around, but it was a promise he found surprisingly hard to keep. The second time Teal’c left the Mountain it was to help him and Carter pack up Daniel’s apartment, since they thought Daniel was dead. He also got to come to Daniel’s wake, which Jack supposes doesn’t really count as either a social occasion, or as seeing Earth. (Fortunately Daniel wasn’t dead. That was also when Jack discovered Monty Python didn’t translate across cultures.)
The third time Teal’c got to go out also involved exploding aliens. Only this one didn’t explode after all, and she got to stay. (They’d just found out Teal’c had a boy about Cassie’s age a few weeks before, and that’s an associational road Jack isn’t going to go down, thanks so much.) He has to admit that a visit to a mothballed Titan missile silo was probably not what Teal’c had in mind when he asked to be shown Earth (missile silos seem to be a recurring motif in the life of one Colonel Jack O’Neill, but let that pass), though.
It wasn’t that Teal’c never got outside. They were outside every time they stepped through the Stargate. (It was usually raining.) But it also wasn’t Earth. He knew Teal’c wanted to see Earth. He wanted to understand it. (Good luck there, big guy.) The paperwork seemed to go on forever, though. Teal’c didn’t officially exist, and in the eyes of Washington, the easiest way to deal with little problems like that was to ignore them. (And Teal’c.)
He got to see plenty of the Springs on his next outing, since he was hiding from the NID while a big bug turned him into a bunch of little bugs (that would grow up to be big bugs and then bye-bye Earth). But it was after that (Carter helped him put the boot in; she was still pissed with little Timmy Harlowe of the flexible morals) that they finally got permission to take Teal’c on an honest-to-God outing.
You’d probably think camping wouldn’t be anyone’s first choice. They do plenty of that at work. But Teal’c’s interested in how people who were born free choose to spend their time, Jack likes camping, Daniel said the contrast between camping for fun and camping because they had to would probably interest Teal’c, and Carter announced she made a mean s’more. General Hammond liked the idea. (General Hammond probably thought they couldn’t get into much trouble in The Garden of the Gods.)
The gear fills the whole back of the truck, so Carter follows them on her bike. They’ll stay here overnight, go back to the house to unload (and shower), and then down to that Italian place Daniel likes for Sunday dinner. A nice low-key introduction to the pleasures of Earth. (Jack wonders what the folks back home get up to for fun, but having visited scenic Chulak a couple of times now, he doesn’t wonder very hard.)
It’s car camping, but they find a nice spot. Trees just don’t smell the same anywhere else. Carter’s efficient, clearing level ground, arranging all the tools. She’s brought a bright blue bubble tent; he’s brought his old red Coleman (sleeps four, but not if one of them’s Teal’c and they’re going to be storing a lot of gear inside). The tents go up quickly: Carter’s talking about the engineering aspects of tent construction; Daniel’s contributing the history of tents (which go all the way back to Sunday School; no surprises there). Jack’s pulled out a lawn chair to...supervise.
He’s always liked the outdoors. His grandfather first introduced him to it. The first summer he spent outside of Chicago was a revelation. Sara liked it too: whenever he was home, they’d load up the truck of the moment and take off for whatever wilderness was closest. Even while she was pregnant. Even with the baby. (He doesn’t think of Charlie if he can help it, but some parts—the good parts—of his life are so intertwined with those eight brief years he had with him that forgetting Charlie would be like lobotomizing himself. That’s why the pictures are still on his living room wall.)
Teal’c looks a little wacky in civilian clothes. Like they’re some kind of costume he isn’t really sure about. He does what Carter tells him, and the tents look like they’ll stand. Jack shifts gears from ‘supervisory’ to ‘managerial’ to get the rest of the truck unloaded. and the gear stowed. They brought wood with them; he builds the fire in the firepit himself. Some things you have to leave to the experts.
Teal’c is asking Daniel if this is a customary form of recreation among the Tau’ri. Daniel is tripping over his own tongue, trying to be fair and accurate and list all the possibilities. (As usual, the explanation doesn’t go well.) Jack thinks Daniel’s looking at the trees instead of the forest: Teal’c isn’t asking if this is what normal people do as much as he’s asking if the four of them are doing it the way normal people do it.
Yeah, pretty much.
Everything’s set up by mid-afternoon. Jack runs the truck down to the parking area and walks back; by then, Daniel’s talked Carter into hiking up to look at some local petroglyphs. Jack adjusts his chair so it’s facing the firepit and the sun’s at his back, makes sure the cooler is close to hand, sits down, and cracks a beer.
Teal’c sits down beside him. Jack hands him a bottle of juice.
“I would not have expected recreation on your world to be so...quiet...O’Neill,” Teal’c finally says.
“Wait ’till you see a hockey game,” Jack answers. He knows Teal’c’s probably seen them on ESPN. The real thing’s better.
They sit in silence for a while, which is fine. Jack likes silence, and likes having nothing to do, and likes being places where the possibility someone is going to shoot at him is vanishingly small. And Teal’c isn’t a chatterbox. That’s one of the things Jack likes about him.
“It is odd,” Teal’c says at last, “to be presented with so many choices.”
And that’s something that might actually call for him to say something profound and Colonel-ish, but he hears Carter and Daniel coming back, arguing about something, and he lets the moment go.
Dinner is hot dogs, cooked over the fire. (They’ll have to fire up the camp stove to cook breakfast, but they don’t really need it now.) His grandfather’s battered old percolator nestles in the coals so the caffeine-addicts can have their coffee; Jack sticks to beer. After they’ve roasted hot dogs (and every other dinner-related thing that can conceivably go on the end of a roasting fork) it’s time for dessert.
Carter talks about making s’mores when she was in the Girl Scouts. Daniel disentangles Teal’c from the idea that the Tau’ri have a caste of child warriors. Jack shows Teal’c how you put them together. Teal’c gets the first one by default. They’re all watching as he shoves the first square into his mouth (whole). Waiting for the review.
“I believe this is the taste of freedom,” Teal’c pronounces gravely.
And nobody laughs.
Y is for Annual Physical
1200 Words. Somewhere in the first three seasons.
==========
“If we just had a physical three months ago—which we did—why are we having another one now?”
“That was a quarterly physical, Daniel. This is an annual physical.”
“‘Annual’ implies ‘yearly.’ As in: ‘once every twelve months,’” Daniel protested.
“And amazingly, this time last year, here we were.”
The two of them were sitting side by side on a bench in a waiting room in their underwear. Teal’c always took up a lot of the docs’ time, and while Carter got the same treatment he and Daniel did (more or less), the Air Force in its infinite wisdom had decided long ago that these exciting bonding sessions weren’t meant to be co-ed. Maybe it was the underwear thing. In which case, Jack was very very worried about the medical department’s grasp of a Gate Team’s average working day.
The rest is HERE
I is for Insight by GateGremlyn
Gen, Friendship, Team,
Maybe PG for a couple of bad words
Episode tag for season 10's The Shroud
“Oh, my,” Daniel sputtered as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Tell me you didn't.”
“I did,” Sam said. “To a general. And me just barely out of the academy. I thought for sure I was done.”
“What did he do?”
“He said,” and Sam put down her beer bottle so she could place both hands on her hips, “he said, 'Young lady, I may be wrong, but I'm a general. The only people who can tell me I'm wrong are my staff. And you aren't one of them... yet. So keep your opinions to yourself.'”
Daniel grabbed a tissue to wipe his eyes. “I can so see you as a wet-behind-the-ears lieutenant. Did you keep your opinions to yourself?”
“Well, let's say I kept them to a select group of people,” she admitted. “Okay, I've told you about a time I cried, now somebody else tell one.”
They were at the easy part of night when, lubricated with a few beers, the stories came. It was a time-honored tradition for SG-1, especially after a mission like the one they'd just had. Seeing Daniel as a Prior, knowing they'd started a war they weren't sure they could finish.... Well, it had been a rough few days.
“I cried when my son was born,” Teal'c said.
“Tears of joy,” Sam said with a nod. “I get that.”
“No, not tears of joy,” Teal'c said. “Tears of sorrow that my son would someday serve Apothis.”
“But you were in the service of Apothis,” Daniel said. “Didn't you want your son to follow in your footsteps?”
“No,” was Teal'c's blunt reply.
“Well, T, that's not a problem anymore,” Jack said from his chair by the fireplace. “Ding dong, the witch is dead.” He raised his bottle in a toast. “And about time, too.” Jack had stayed at Cheyenne Mountain to brainstorm with the brass about how to defeat the Ori. Now they had nothing to do but what the military did so well: hurry up and wait. In the brief respite before the storm to come, he had dragged the old team to the cabin for a few days of peace and quiet. They flew out tomorrow.
“I've cried,” Daniel said into the stillness.
“Yeah?”
“I cried when you made two-star general.”
“Knew you were going to miss me, didcha?”
“No. I feared for the people in Washington.”
“Yeah, I get that, too.” Sam leaned forward so that she could whisper in Daniel's ear, an act that was an abysmal failure considering her state of inebriation. “I don't think you were the only one who cried over that.”
“Oh, very funny, you two. You both know that Washington needed me.”
“And that might be the scariest thing of all,” Daniel said. On his way for refills, he grabbed a handful of empties and brought them to the kitchen. “So, Jack,” he said as he passed out fresh bottles, “you haven't shared your tearful moment. Did the mess run out of pie? Did Siler hit you with his wrench?” He grinned and slid into the chair, propping his bottle on his knee.
“Perhaps he was given more forms to sign by Sergeant Harriman,” Teal'c suggested.
Sam snorted. “That would definitely make him cry. Come to think of it, it would make me cry.”
“Why?” Daniel asked. “He just gives them back and has Walter do them anyway.”
“Laugh it up, you two,” Jack said, “but my inadequate record-keeping skills have kept several people employed over the years.”
“Good point,” Daniel said. “And with that, it's time for me to head to bed.” He drained his beer and stood, a little unsteady on his feet.
They'd argued about the room assignments earlier, and Daniel had won the cot in the spare room. Teal'c had the bed and Sam the couch. Jack, as the master of the cabin, had the double bed in the main bedroom. He'd offered to give up his bed, of course. But no one would let the man paying for the food and at least part of the beer do that.
As everyone started to shuffle themselves to their spots, Sam grabbing her her sleeping bag from Daniel who had snatched it and was now playing keep away, Jack said, “I have cried.”
“Yeah?” Daniel finished his tug-o-war with Sam and sat back down. “Jack, it's just a game, you don't have to--”
“When you died,” Jack said. “Ascended. Whatever. I cried then.”
“You did not!” The alcohol made Sam bold. “Not even a tear. 'Cause I watched. I cried, Teal'c cried, Janet cried, but you never even let on it even bothered you.”
The silence which they'd enjoyed for the last couple of days was no longer friendly and comfortable. Teal'c stood in the doorway; Sam hugged the sleeping bag; Daniel came to stand by Jack's chair.
When Jack finally looked up, Daniel said, “I don't think I've ever seen you cry, except maybe when you were in pain. But never for anything else. Not even when you were being tortured by Ba'al.”
“You remember that?” Sam asked in shock. “You said you didn't remember anything from when your were ascended.”
Daniel continued to stare at Jack. “Maybe it was being a prior or having Merlin's memories downloaded or something. But yeah, I remember. Not all of it,” he added, putting up a hand to forestall further questions, “but some.”
“You remembered Ry'ac,” Teal'c said. “Was that not from your time ascended?”
“I still don't know why that memory came back,” Daniel said. “Maybe the memories are jolted by trauma.”
“Having a brain dump from an Ancient wizard would be traumatic, that's for sure.” Jack rose, making Daniel step away from his chair, and tossed a pillow at Sam. “Anyway, I... wanted you to know that. God knows why.”
“Jack,” Daniel started.
“Don't make a thing of it, Daniel. I just wanted you to know. Now...” he rubbed his hands together “...who's making breakfast?”
“Why didn't you tell us, sir?” Sam asked.
Teal'c came back into the room and sat in his chair. Daniel sat on the coffee table. Jack looked around the room, defeated, before he sank back into his chair. “What did you want me to say, Carter?”
“That you cared; that you felt what the rest of us felt; that you missed him.”
“It hurt too much, I guess.” Jack shrugged his shoulders, looking not at his friends but at the floor. “I didn't know how to say it,” he added. And finally, “If I said it, it would make it real.”
“Why now?” Daniel asked quietly.
“Because I'm old, and I'm afraid one of us is going to die without getting a chance to say it. We keep dancing around the whole death thing, but sooner or later, it's going to catch up to us.” Jack picked up a bottle off the floor. “And I've had too much to drink.”
“Say what?” Daniel prodded.
“You're not really going to make me.” Jack glared at the non-Prior Daniel with the small smirk and the tired eyes.
“How often am I going to get the chance?” The smirk turned to a smile. “So what were you going to say?”
“That you made a lousy Marcel Marceau.”
“I like Marcel Marceau.” Daniel put his hands in front of him and mimed being in a box.
“What is a Marcel Marceau?” Teal'c asked.
“Not a what, a who,”Sam explained. “Marcel Marceau was a mime.” Seeing Teal'c's confusion she added, “A mime. A person who has a white face and tells a story through movement.” She turned to Jack who was still glaring at the Daniel-in-the-box. “Not to pry, but why Marcel Marceau?”
Without stopping Daniel said, “When I beamed him up to the ship, he said I looked like Marcel Marceau.”
“You two have some very weird conversations.” Sam shook her head in confusion.
“I have been to the ballet with ValaMaldoran. A mime is a dancer then.”
Teal'c's sage nod took Daniel out of his box. “No, Teal'c, not a dancer. A mime uses movement, but not rhythmic dancing. Like this.” He went back to feeling his way around the box.
“Oh, good. Daniel's in a box,” Jack said. “Somebody lock it and throw away the key.” He turned and started down the hallway to the bedrooms. “I'm not making breakfast.”
“Come on, Jack, say it.” Daniel abandoned his box and followed as Jack made his way out of the room.
“You're a pain in the ass.”
“Thank you. But that's not what you were going to say.” Daniel was at Jack's shoulder.
“If I told you to go to hell, would that work?”
“Been there, done that.”Daniel turned himself around so that he was walking backward as he and Jack maneuvered down the hall. “Been there, done that, with you. Besides, it's never worked before, telling me to go to hell.”
“It never works to tell you anything!”
As the bickering voices faded, Teal'c looked at Sam. “Will he ever say it?”
“After 11 years?” Sam flattened out the sleeping bag before she looked down the hall. After a last “Come on, Jack!” followed by a “Have you lost what little is left of your mind?” Sam said, “I think he just did.”
~::~