Title: Kite Flying Day
Author: A. Karswyll
Rated: K
Words: 722
Summary: Jack O'Neill intends to take Cassandra out to celebrate the holiday on February 8th. Now, if he can just convince Doc Fraiser that it really is okay to fly a kite in winter.
Season 2
8 February 1998
Bundled up for the weather and the activities of the day, Jack O'Neill stepped out of his truck onto the snowy ground and his winter boots crunched the recently fallen snow beneath. The sun was bright in the cloudless sky and there was a light wind that made one hitch scarves up over one's chin and stuff mitted hands into deep jacket pockets.
The city ploughs hadn't been by yet to remove the snow that had fallen last night on the street, but the Fraisers and other people on the block had already been out this Sunday morning and shovelled their walkways and sidewalks clear. Good thing, because he didn't look forward to stomping through any snow but the snow on the sledding hill where he was taking Cassie for their day out together.
She'd even called last night, excited about the new snow and wondering if it might interfere with part of their plans. He'd been able to reassure her that as long as it didn't storm today as well, the plans would be fine.
He walked up the cleared path, up the front steps onto the front porch, and rang the doorbell of the Fraiser house. In moments the door was opened by Janet, bundled up in an overly large sweater, who waved him inside.
"Good morning Colonel. It's a fine day for sledding isn't it? Cassandra's just getting some last minute things together."
"Good morning Doc," Jack returned the greeting, "and it sure is a great day."
"Hi Jack," Cassie appeared from the interior of the house, carrying a sledding saucer, a satchel of things swinging in her hand, and wearing her winter pants already.
"Hi kiddo," Jack returned. "Ready to finish getting dressed and go?"
Cassie shook her head as she leaned the saucer against the wall and set the satchel down with a noisy clunk on the entranceway floor. "I can't find my kite. Mom, where is it?"
"Kite?" Janet looked nonplussed.
"Yeah, my kite. I need it today."
Janet furrowed her brows at her daughter. "I thought you and the Colonel were going sledding today."
"Oh, we are," Cassie answered cheerfully. "But that's later. We have to fly kites today first."
Jack did his best not to fidget under the look that Janet turned on him in turn. After a moment, he surrendered. "It's Kite Flying Day today."
In response to that one of Janet's eyebrows arched in curve that would have made Teal'c envious. "In winter?"
Jack tried to look casual.
Janet did not look impressed.
"Come on, it may be winter, but it's still a great day to fly a kite. It's sunny and there's a light wind," Jack cajoled.
Janet pursed her lips and then turned to her daughter. "Go check in the guest closet if it wasn't in the back closet with the beach things. You might find the kite there."
Cassie nodded and disappeared back into the interior of the house.
Janet turned back to him when Cassie was out of earshot. "In winter Colonel?"
"Hey! Kites aren't just a summer activity. And it really is Kite Flying Day."
The look Janet gave him reminded Jack all too strongly of the looks Carter, Daniel, and Teal'c were wont to give him when he told them what holiday it was. Really, he didn't make these dates up so why did everyone look at him like he did?
She said a third time, "In winter?"
"Kites only need wind to work so really, they can be flown in any season. And it's not like I'm taking her out to fly one in a thunderstorm like crazy old Ben Franklin."
"I would hope not," Janet said sharply.
Cassie bounded back into the entranceway and held her colourful prize aloft. "Found it! I'm ready to go now!"
Janet looked from him to her happy daughter and then back to him with a resigned look. "Okay Colonel. You guys have fun today."
"Thanks Doc," Jack stated, knowing that she was granting her permission to take the kite with them. Said kite was passed to him to hold while Cassie finished getting her parka, toque, mittens, scarf and boots on. Kite, saucer, and satchel in hand they headed out into the brisk winter day to fly a kite to celebrate the day.
Showing posts with label Quirky Holidays Series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Quirky Holidays Series. Show all posts
"National Puzzle Day" [drabble, team, T]
Title: National Puzzle Day
Author: A. Karswyll
Rated: K
Words: 795
Summary: January 29th is a holiday that Jack O'Neill enjoys but when he asks for help one too many times, he finds himself making an unexpected bet over crosswords.
Season 7
29 January 2004
Jack turned the page of his morning newspaper with a soft rustle. The sound was lost in the low murmur of conversation and the rattle and clicking of cutlery and dishes in the commissary. Nine days after inauguration the news of the new president's swearing in no longer dominated the front page but it was still prominent in the interior pages and his eyes skimmed headlines and articles.
At last he reached the funnies and puzzles and he folded the paper back on itself to isolate the crossword puzzle. A crossword was an excellent way to take part in today's National Puzzle Day if he did say so himself. He might even try his hand at one of those Japanese math puzzles to really celebrate.
He pushed his tray to the side, careful not to push it into any of the trays of his teammates, and set the paper down and searched through his pockets for something to write with. Finding a pen, he uncapped it, and began penning in his answers to the clues. After writing in a handful of the answers he frowned at twenty-two across and looked up across the table at his second-in-command. "Hey Carter?"
"Yes Sir?" Carter looked up from her breakfast.
"I need a four letter word. Prefix with matter, proton or particle."
"Anti."
"Thanks," he looked down at the puzzle and penned her answer in.
"Sir?"
"Yeah?" Jack kept his eyes on the crossword as he studied the next across clue.
"Don't you think you can finish one without asking for help?"
"What?" he looked up at her in surprise.
"Your crosswords. You always ask me for help."
"I don't."
"You do too," Daniel interjected from his seat diagonal across the table as he looked up from his linguistic journal.
"Don't," Jack insisted.
"Do."
"Don't."
"You do O'Neill," Teal'c ended the argument from his seat on the left.
"Oh," Jack cleared his throat and looked back at Carter. "Sorry Carter, didn't mean to bother you with it."
"It isn't a bother Sir. It's just..." Carter looked a bit uncomfortable, "I think if you thought about it instead of asked me right away, you would get the answer yourself."
Jack thought about it and then thought about what holiday it was, and he leaned across the table. "Is that a challenge Major?"
Carter responded in kind and leaned across the table. "Do you want it to be Sir?"
"I don't know Major. What are you offering up?"
"Well," Carter leaned back to ponder things and then her expression brightened and she challenged. "A week worth of KP duties Sir."
"That's quite a bet there. You ready for a week of KP Major?" Jack taunted.
"Are you Sir?" she countered with a saucy little grin. "So this is the bet Sir. You finish a crossword without help and I do a week's worth of KP. You don't finish the crossword and you do a week's worth of KP."
Jack thought it over and then nodded his agreement. "Deal."
"So it's a bet." Carter stood beside the table and picking up her tray. "I'll go find another crossword for you—"
"No science journal stuff!" he objected.
"Don't worry Sir, I'm just going to find a different newspaper to get today's crossword from. There should be a New York Times or even a Cheyenne Edition around somewhere. And remember Sir, no getting help!"
"Don't worry Sam," Daniel chimed in, "I'll make sure he doesn't get any help from me."
"Good," Carter gave a satisfied nod and head high, sauntered away.
Jack watched her go. When the doors swung shut behind her, he pulled his eyes away and cleared his throat upon finding Daniel and Teal'c were giving him looks. "What? It's National Puzzle Day you know, I can't turn down doing a puzzle today."
Daniel shook his head. "If you say so Jack, if you say so."
"It is!"
"Oh, I don't doubt it's one of your weird holidays but really Jack, if you wanted to do a week of KP why didn't you just say so?"
Jack wagged his pen at Daniel who was looking oh so innocent. "Just you wait Daniel, just you wait. I'll complete the crossword and the next couple missions you'll be suffering through Carter's cooking."
He frowned. Actually, on second thought, maybe he should lose the bet. Nah, he shook his head, Carter hadn't managed to mess up MREs yet and besides, he hated doing dishes. Decision made he turned back to the crossword he'd started to get some more practice in. And if worst came to worst, and he didn't manage to finish the crossword and win, he could always bet double or nothing and give it another go.
-FINISHED
Author: A. Karswyll
Rated: K
Words: 795
Summary: January 29th is a holiday that Jack O'Neill enjoys but when he asks for help one too many times, he finds himself making an unexpected bet over crosswords.
Season 7
29 January 2004
Jack turned the page of his morning newspaper with a soft rustle. The sound was lost in the low murmur of conversation and the rattle and clicking of cutlery and dishes in the commissary. Nine days after inauguration the news of the new president's swearing in no longer dominated the front page but it was still prominent in the interior pages and his eyes skimmed headlines and articles.
At last he reached the funnies and puzzles and he folded the paper back on itself to isolate the crossword puzzle. A crossword was an excellent way to take part in today's National Puzzle Day if he did say so himself. He might even try his hand at one of those Japanese math puzzles to really celebrate.
He pushed his tray to the side, careful not to push it into any of the trays of his teammates, and set the paper down and searched through his pockets for something to write with. Finding a pen, he uncapped it, and began penning in his answers to the clues. After writing in a handful of the answers he frowned at twenty-two across and looked up across the table at his second-in-command. "Hey Carter?"
"Yes Sir?" Carter looked up from her breakfast.
"I need a four letter word. Prefix with matter, proton or particle."
"Anti."
"Thanks," he looked down at the puzzle and penned her answer in.
"Sir?"
"Yeah?" Jack kept his eyes on the crossword as he studied the next across clue.
"Don't you think you can finish one without asking for help?"
"What?" he looked up at her in surprise.
"Your crosswords. You always ask me for help."
"I don't."
"You do too," Daniel interjected from his seat diagonal across the table as he looked up from his linguistic journal.
"Don't," Jack insisted.
"Do."
"Don't."
"You do O'Neill," Teal'c ended the argument from his seat on the left.
"Oh," Jack cleared his throat and looked back at Carter. "Sorry Carter, didn't mean to bother you with it."
"It isn't a bother Sir. It's just..." Carter looked a bit uncomfortable, "I think if you thought about it instead of asked me right away, you would get the answer yourself."
Jack thought about it and then thought about what holiday it was, and he leaned across the table. "Is that a challenge Major?"
Carter responded in kind and leaned across the table. "Do you want it to be Sir?"
"I don't know Major. What are you offering up?"
"Well," Carter leaned back to ponder things and then her expression brightened and she challenged. "A week worth of KP duties Sir."
"That's quite a bet there. You ready for a week of KP Major?" Jack taunted.
"Are you Sir?" she countered with a saucy little grin. "So this is the bet Sir. You finish a crossword without help and I do a week's worth of KP. You don't finish the crossword and you do a week's worth of KP."
Jack thought it over and then nodded his agreement. "Deal."
"So it's a bet." Carter stood beside the table and picking up her tray. "I'll go find another crossword for you—"
"No science journal stuff!" he objected.
"Don't worry Sir, I'm just going to find a different newspaper to get today's crossword from. There should be a New York Times or even a Cheyenne Edition around somewhere. And remember Sir, no getting help!"
"Don't worry Sam," Daniel chimed in, "I'll make sure he doesn't get any help from me."
"Good," Carter gave a satisfied nod and head high, sauntered away.
Jack watched her go. When the doors swung shut behind her, he pulled his eyes away and cleared his throat upon finding Daniel and Teal'c were giving him looks. "What? It's National Puzzle Day you know, I can't turn down doing a puzzle today."
Daniel shook his head. "If you say so Jack, if you say so."
"It is!"
"Oh, I don't doubt it's one of your weird holidays but really Jack, if you wanted to do a week of KP why didn't you just say so?"
Jack wagged his pen at Daniel who was looking oh so innocent. "Just you wait Daniel, just you wait. I'll complete the crossword and the next couple missions you'll be suffering through Carter's cooking."
He frowned. Actually, on second thought, maybe he should lose the bet. Nah, he shook his head, Carter hadn't managed to mess up MREs yet and besides, he hated doing dishes. Decision made he turned back to the crossword he'd started to get some more practice in. And if worst came to worst, and he didn't manage to finish the crossword and win, he could always bet double or nothing and give it another go.
-FINISHED
"Clean Out Your Fridge Day" [drabble, Jack & Sam, K]
Title: Clean Out Your Fridge Day
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 1,178
Summary: Engaged in of one his least favourite holiday on November 15th, Jack had hoped to get it over and done with before Carter, Teal'c, and Jonas get to his house for team movie night.
Season 6
15 November 2002
Jack held his breath and peered into the bowels of the beast. Spying another transformed creature he gingerly reaching in and, holding it by the very tips of his fingers, drew it out. Holding the offensive thing at arm's length he deposited it directly into the garbage and not onto the counter cluttered with things already taken from the beast.
He reached into the beast again and—brrriiinnng—he jolted at the sound of his doorbell and knocked his head on the shelf and cursed at the flash of pain. Jack rubbed at his forehead as he pulled his head out of the refrigerator and bellowed in annoyance, "It's open! Come in!"
Sticking his head back into his fridge he could hear his front door open and close, and approaching footsteps, even though sound was muffled by the barrier of the open fridge door.
"Um..." his unexpected visitor trailed off, "um, Sir?"
Jack leaned back, to look around the open fridge door, with a Chinese takeout carton in his hand and looked up at Carter. She looked rather surprised and unsure as she stood in the entrance to his kitchen holding four boxes of pizza and two shopping bags hanging from her hands.
Surprised at seeing her himself, Jack twisted his wrist around to look at his watch. It was time for movie night already? Crap, it was. A touch sheepish he got up off the floor in front of his fridge. "Sorry, Carter, I thought I'd have this done before you guys got here."
Eyeing him, and the countertop cluttered with things from his fridge, Carter cautiously pushed things around to make room for the pizza boxes and drinks and snacks on the counter. "What are you doing?"
"Cleaning out my fridge of course." Jack checked the interior of the takeout carton, and finding it empty except for a few noodles clinging to the sides, tossed the carton.
"I can see that, but... why now?"
"'Cause it's the 15th."
"What does the 15th have to do with anything?"
"It's Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day," Jack pointed at his calendar pinned to his kitchen wall.
"Ah, one of your days is it Sir?" Carter said with a twinkle in her blue eyes.
"They aren't my days," Jack said indignant, "they're real holidays."
"Yes Sir," she agreed dutifully.
"Watch your tone Carter," he waggled a finger at her.
"Sir, yes Sir," Carter said in the perfect respectful subordinate voice of hers.
Jack rolled his eyes and didn't even know why he bothered. He'd yet to meet anyone who could beat Carter at playing the innocent-subordinate-who-was-really-mocking-you card. It was those blue eyes, and that smile, you could never believe she could be that devious.
She poked at some of the items on the counter. "So, any ideas why today is the day you clean out your fridge?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, why now, in November? Why not in the spring or something with spring cleaning?"
He shrugged and turned his attention back to his refrigerator. "No idea. I always thought it had to do with Thanksgiving, you know? Making room for all the leftovers you have afterwards."
Carter made a sound that could be agreement—or it was just a sound to say she was listening—as she shuffled the items on his countertop around with clinking noises. "Ugh, is this a piece of cake from your birthday last month?"
"What? No, of course not," he pulled his head out of the fridge again and glanced over his shoulder at her. "The cake didn't even make into the fridge."
"Ah, that sounds more likely," she agreed cheekily as more countertop items moved. "Don't know why I'd think cake would last that long around you."
Jack shook his head and turned back to his task. The tomatoes were still good but the lettuce had gone all limp and slimy so he tossed the package.
Ah, there's where it had gone, he thought with satisfaction as from behind the nearly empty pickle jar he pulled out the ceramic figurine, tucked against the back of the fridge. Juggling the tomatoes, figurine, and jar he moved to the counter and set them down with the other items that were to go back in the fridge.
Carter cocked her head at him and pointed to the ceramic figurine. "I've been meaning to ask. Why do you keep a ceramic frog in your fridge? We never know what to do with it when we've, ah, had to clean out your fridge for you."
"You mean you don't have one in your fridge?"
"A ceramic frog?" Carter gave him a strange look. "No Sir."
"I don't mean a frog, but something with baking soda in it?"
"Is that what that stuff is?" she asked as she poked at the white mass visible in the frog's wide open mouth.
"Yes, that 'stuff' is baking soda."
"Seems a rather, er... strange way to store baking soda. Doesn't it go bad exposed in the fridge like that?"
Jack shook his head. "It isn't for storage Carter. You mean your mom didn't keep baking soda in the fridge to help keep the fridge smelling clean?"
Carter looked a bit surprised, and after a moment, shook her head. "No."
"Ah well, mine did," Jack said with a shrug as tapped the ceramic head of the frog. "Lots of people just used the open boxes I think, but we always used stuff like this frog."
"Huh."
"Huh what?"
"Actually Sir, I never gave it much thought, but your fridge always did smell... better than one would expect considering what was spoiled when we had to clean it out."
Jack couldn't help but quirking a grin at her at that. He could well imagine what his leftovers, and just the regular food, had mutated into when stranded off-world, having a bit of experience in seeing what happened when the whole team got stranded off-world for a bit and no one was around to clean out their fridges.
Brrriiinnng!
Well, Jack thought as he looked around his still disorderly kitchen, sounded like the rest of the team was here. "Door's open! Come in!"
His front door opened and closed again and shortly two aliens were standing in the entrance to his kitchen. Both raised their eyebrows at the clutter though it was, typically, Jonas who openly looked surprised and not Teal'c.
"Hi guys, go ahead and put movies by the TV and then come help Carter with the pizza," he waved them towards the living room. As the wide-eyed Jones trailed after Teal'c, he was struck by an idea. Leaning towards Carter he said quietly, "Pst, Carter? When I was stuck with Maybourne a couple weeks back, who cleaned out my fridge?"
"Um," Carter flushed a bit, "I did."
"Jonas didn't help?"
"Ah, no Sir," she said warily. "It was just me."
"Excellent," Jack grinned deviously and rubbed his hands together. Raising his voice he called out, "Hey, Jonas! You want to partake in a traditional Earth activity?"
-FINISHED
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 1,178
Summary: Engaged in of one his least favourite holiday on November 15th, Jack had hoped to get it over and done with before Carter, Teal'c, and Jonas get to his house for team movie night.
Season 6
15 November 2002
Jack held his breath and peered into the bowels of the beast. Spying another transformed creature he gingerly reaching in and, holding it by the very tips of his fingers, drew it out. Holding the offensive thing at arm's length he deposited it directly into the garbage and not onto the counter cluttered with things already taken from the beast.
He reached into the beast again and—brrriiinnng—he jolted at the sound of his doorbell and knocked his head on the shelf and cursed at the flash of pain. Jack rubbed at his forehead as he pulled his head out of the refrigerator and bellowed in annoyance, "It's open! Come in!"
Sticking his head back into his fridge he could hear his front door open and close, and approaching footsteps, even though sound was muffled by the barrier of the open fridge door.
"Um..." his unexpected visitor trailed off, "um, Sir?"
Jack leaned back, to look around the open fridge door, with a Chinese takeout carton in his hand and looked up at Carter. She looked rather surprised and unsure as she stood in the entrance to his kitchen holding four boxes of pizza and two shopping bags hanging from her hands.
Surprised at seeing her himself, Jack twisted his wrist around to look at his watch. It was time for movie night already? Crap, it was. A touch sheepish he got up off the floor in front of his fridge. "Sorry, Carter, I thought I'd have this done before you guys got here."
Eyeing him, and the countertop cluttered with things from his fridge, Carter cautiously pushed things around to make room for the pizza boxes and drinks and snacks on the counter. "What are you doing?"
"Cleaning out my fridge of course." Jack checked the interior of the takeout carton, and finding it empty except for a few noodles clinging to the sides, tossed the carton.
"I can see that, but... why now?"
"'Cause it's the 15th."
"What does the 15th have to do with anything?"
"It's Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day," Jack pointed at his calendar pinned to his kitchen wall.
"Ah, one of your days is it Sir?" Carter said with a twinkle in her blue eyes.
"They aren't my days," Jack said indignant, "they're real holidays."
"Yes Sir," she agreed dutifully.
"Watch your tone Carter," he waggled a finger at her.
"Sir, yes Sir," Carter said in the perfect respectful subordinate voice of hers.
Jack rolled his eyes and didn't even know why he bothered. He'd yet to meet anyone who could beat Carter at playing the innocent-subordinate-who-was-really-mocking-you card. It was those blue eyes, and that smile, you could never believe she could be that devious.
She poked at some of the items on the counter. "So, any ideas why today is the day you clean out your fridge?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, why now, in November? Why not in the spring or something with spring cleaning?"
He shrugged and turned his attention back to his refrigerator. "No idea. I always thought it had to do with Thanksgiving, you know? Making room for all the leftovers you have afterwards."
Carter made a sound that could be agreement—or it was just a sound to say she was listening—as she shuffled the items on his countertop around with clinking noises. "Ugh, is this a piece of cake from your birthday last month?"
"What? No, of course not," he pulled his head out of the fridge again and glanced over his shoulder at her. "The cake didn't even make into the fridge."
"Ah, that sounds more likely," she agreed cheekily as more countertop items moved. "Don't know why I'd think cake would last that long around you."
Jack shook his head and turned back to his task. The tomatoes were still good but the lettuce had gone all limp and slimy so he tossed the package.
Ah, there's where it had gone, he thought with satisfaction as from behind the nearly empty pickle jar he pulled out the ceramic figurine, tucked against the back of the fridge. Juggling the tomatoes, figurine, and jar he moved to the counter and set them down with the other items that were to go back in the fridge.
Carter cocked her head at him and pointed to the ceramic figurine. "I've been meaning to ask. Why do you keep a ceramic frog in your fridge? We never know what to do with it when we've, ah, had to clean out your fridge for you."
"You mean you don't have one in your fridge?"
"A ceramic frog?" Carter gave him a strange look. "No Sir."
"I don't mean a frog, but something with baking soda in it?"
"Is that what that stuff is?" she asked as she poked at the white mass visible in the frog's wide open mouth.
"Yes, that 'stuff' is baking soda."
"Seems a rather, er... strange way to store baking soda. Doesn't it go bad exposed in the fridge like that?"
Jack shook his head. "It isn't for storage Carter. You mean your mom didn't keep baking soda in the fridge to help keep the fridge smelling clean?"
Carter looked a bit surprised, and after a moment, shook her head. "No."
"Ah well, mine did," Jack said with a shrug as tapped the ceramic head of the frog. "Lots of people just used the open boxes I think, but we always used stuff like this frog."
"Huh."
"Huh what?"
"Actually Sir, I never gave it much thought, but your fridge always did smell... better than one would expect considering what was spoiled when we had to clean it out."
Jack couldn't help but quirking a grin at her at that. He could well imagine what his leftovers, and just the regular food, had mutated into when stranded off-world, having a bit of experience in seeing what happened when the whole team got stranded off-world for a bit and no one was around to clean out their fridges.
Brrriiinnng!
Well, Jack thought as he looked around his still disorderly kitchen, sounded like the rest of the team was here. "Door's open! Come in!"
His front door opened and closed again and shortly two aliens were standing in the entrance to his kitchen. Both raised their eyebrows at the clutter though it was, typically, Jonas who openly looked surprised and not Teal'c.
"Hi guys, go ahead and put movies by the TV and then come help Carter with the pizza," he waved them towards the living room. As the wide-eyed Jones trailed after Teal'c, he was struck by an idea. Leaning towards Carter he said quietly, "Pst, Carter? When I was stuck with Maybourne a couple weeks back, who cleaned out my fridge?"
"Um," Carter flushed a bit, "I did."
"Jonas didn't help?"
"Ah, no Sir," she said warily. "It was just me."
"Excellent," Jack grinned deviously and rubbed his hands together. Raising his voice he called out, "Hey, Jonas! You want to partake in a traditional Earth activity?"
-FINISHED
"Babbling Day" [drabble, Jack & Sam, K]
Title: Babbling Day
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 730
Summary: October 21st is not a holiday Jack O'Neill marks with particular relish, but for his two babbling geeks on the team he will endure—for the day.
Season 2
21 October 1998
Jack listened to the weekly science geek congress babble on about their weekly findings and wished—not for the first time—that these briefings weren't a requirement he had to attend as team leader. Jeez, and he still had to attend the Daniel-type geeks briefings this afternoon.
Last week the geeks had been all excited about the ongoing development of longer ranged recon probes that had developed into the UAV. Things like that he could appreciate.
Long dissertations on the analysis of the sound waves used by the bald, white, and naked aliens and white alien plants of PJ2-445 were mind numbing. Just listening to them go on and on was threatening to bring on a headache like the one he'd gotten three days ago on the planet from said alien plants.
As the projector was turned off and the briefing room lights were turned back on Jack rubbed his eyes. Didn't Foldger know two, or even three, syllable words?
Pressing his palms into his eyes he took a breath and reminded himself of his promise to hold his tongue and let the geeks babble all they liked today. He was seriously reconsidering that, though. Next year, yes next year, he'd hold his tongue only for his geeks: Carter and Daniel.
Feeling better with that decided he lowered his hands and opened his eyes to find one of his geeks, Carter watching him with her head cocked at a curious angle.
"What?"
"You okay Sir?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
Carter's blue eyes flickered around the room before returning to him. "You've been very... quiet today Sir. Are you sure there are no aftereffects of the infrasonic frequencies produced by the plant-like organisms of PJ2-445? You and Daniel were exposed for a long period of time and Teal'c had his symbiote to buffer his susceptibility."
Jack groaned. This was the thanks he got for keep his trap shut? Carter eyeing him like she was on the verge of reporting him to the needle pushers? "I'm fine Carter. No need to go a hollering for the Doc."
She worried her bottom lip and glanced away.
Sighing he ordered, "Spit it out Carter."
"Sir?"
"You've still got something to say, spit it out."
Her cheeks reddening a bit she spoke, "Are you sure? You're really—"
"Quiet," Jack rolled his eyes and finished for her. "Yes, you've said that already Carter. Really, I thought you'd appreciate no interruptions from me. Let you talk about your doohickeys all you want."
"I..." Carter trailed off, and then clearly changing her mind about what she was going to say, instead said, "Why have you not been, er, your usual self today?"
"Because of the holiday."
"Holiday?" she blinked at him.
Jack gave her a crooked grin. It clearly had not been an answer his second had expected. "Yeah, it's Babbling Day today."
"What is Babbling Day?"
"Come on Carter, you don't know what it is? You're a card carrying member," he teased. He thought about it for a moment and corrected himself, "No, actually you and Daniel are summa cum laude graduates."
She just looked even more baffled. "I've never heard of such a day Sir."
"No, I didn't think you would have Captain. But trust me, today is the day I let you guys get away with all sorts of blatherskite." Proud of himself at managing to use that word today, he lifted a finger and wagged it at her. "But only today."
Carter looked even more perplexed and absently gestured her acknowledgement when one of the other geeks in the room prompted her that it was her turn to speak.
Jack felt his grin deepen, it always was fun baffling his geeks, and made shooing motions with his hands. "Go Carter, talk about how you talk to your plants."
She gave him one last puzzled look and then she got up and made her way to the front to report her latest discoveries.
Settling back into his chair Jack wondered if he'd be able to get a similar reaction from Daniel when the rock geeks did their talks. It was something to look forward to this afternoon anyway. And he admitted to himself privately, Carter sure got animated and hot when she got going with her technobabble so he settled into to enjoy the rest of Babbling Day.
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 730
Summary: October 21st is not a holiday Jack O'Neill marks with particular relish, but for his two babbling geeks on the team he will endure—for the day.
Season 2
21 October 1998
Jack listened to the weekly science geek congress babble on about their weekly findings and wished—not for the first time—that these briefings weren't a requirement he had to attend as team leader. Jeez, and he still had to attend the Daniel-type geeks briefings this afternoon.
Last week the geeks had been all excited about the ongoing development of longer ranged recon probes that had developed into the UAV. Things like that he could appreciate.
Long dissertations on the analysis of the sound waves used by the bald, white, and naked aliens and white alien plants of PJ2-445 were mind numbing. Just listening to them go on and on was threatening to bring on a headache like the one he'd gotten three days ago on the planet from said alien plants.
As the projector was turned off and the briefing room lights were turned back on Jack rubbed his eyes. Didn't Foldger know two, or even three, syllable words?
Pressing his palms into his eyes he took a breath and reminded himself of his promise to hold his tongue and let the geeks babble all they liked today. He was seriously reconsidering that, though. Next year, yes next year, he'd hold his tongue only for his geeks: Carter and Daniel.
Feeling better with that decided he lowered his hands and opened his eyes to find one of his geeks, Carter watching him with her head cocked at a curious angle.
"What?"
"You okay Sir?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
Carter's blue eyes flickered around the room before returning to him. "You've been very... quiet today Sir. Are you sure there are no aftereffects of the infrasonic frequencies produced by the plant-like organisms of PJ2-445? You and Daniel were exposed for a long period of time and Teal'c had his symbiote to buffer his susceptibility."
Jack groaned. This was the thanks he got for keep his trap shut? Carter eyeing him like she was on the verge of reporting him to the needle pushers? "I'm fine Carter. No need to go a hollering for the Doc."
She worried her bottom lip and glanced away.
Sighing he ordered, "Spit it out Carter."
"Sir?"
"You've still got something to say, spit it out."
Her cheeks reddening a bit she spoke, "Are you sure? You're really—"
"Quiet," Jack rolled his eyes and finished for her. "Yes, you've said that already Carter. Really, I thought you'd appreciate no interruptions from me. Let you talk about your doohickeys all you want."
"I..." Carter trailed off, and then clearly changing her mind about what she was going to say, instead said, "Why have you not been, er, your usual self today?"
"Because of the holiday."
"Holiday?" she blinked at him.
Jack gave her a crooked grin. It clearly had not been an answer his second had expected. "Yeah, it's Babbling Day today."
"What is Babbling Day?"
"Come on Carter, you don't know what it is? You're a card carrying member," he teased. He thought about it for a moment and corrected himself, "No, actually you and Daniel are summa cum laude graduates."
She just looked even more baffled. "I've never heard of such a day Sir."
"No, I didn't think you would have Captain. But trust me, today is the day I let you guys get away with all sorts of blatherskite." Proud of himself at managing to use that word today, he lifted a finger and wagged it at her. "But only today."
Carter looked even more perplexed and absently gestured her acknowledgement when one of the other geeks in the room prompted her that it was her turn to speak.
Jack felt his grin deepen, it always was fun baffling his geeks, and made shooing motions with his hands. "Go Carter, talk about how you talk to your plants."
She gave him one last puzzled look and then she got up and made her way to the front to report her latest discoveries.
Settling back into his chair Jack wondered if he'd be able to get a similar reaction from Daniel when the rock geeks did their talks. It was something to look forward to this afternoon anyway. And he admitted to himself privately, Carter sure got animated and hot when she got going with her technobabble so he settled into to enjoy the rest of Babbling Day.
Labels:
drabble,
friendship,
holiday,
jack&sam,
Quirky Holidays Series,
rated:K,
stargate
"National Dessert Day" [drabble, Jack/Sam, M]
Title: National Dessert Day
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: M
Words: 1,850
Summary: Lt. General Jack O'Neill finds out, after his wife leaves for her morning run, that it is October the 14th and that means it is National Dessert Day! He just didn't expect his innocent attempt to celebrate the day to go down the path it does.
AN: Er, it moved from fluff, to sap, to smut. Don't ask me how, take it up with my three muses—a seal, a penguin, and a polar bear. I swear, they must be handing me off to each other while I'm writing like author-hot-potato or something.
Season 15
14 October 2011
Jack rolled over in bed, groping blindly for the warm body that should be beside him. Feeling nothing but rumpled sheets and the far of the edge of the mattress his head popped-up off his pillow and he squinted around the bedroom. Pale sunlight was just creeping through the large window, illuminating the many pictures and framed medals and awards hung on the walls—his and hers—but the warm body he was looking for wasn't in sight.
Cracking a big yawn he sat up in bed. Hearing running water on his left he looked towards the ensuite bathroom and saw that the door was closed, which answered the question of where his wife was.
Swinging his feet over the mattress, he set them onto the carpet and stood up. Rolling his neck and shoulders, Jack listening to the crackles of protest his body made and scratched his nails through his short hair.
"Good morning," Sam said cheerily as she stepped out of the bathroom in running sweats and tight jogging top, her long brown-dyed hair tightly restrained in a ponytail.
"Morning," Jack rumbled in return. "Going for a run this morning?"
Sam nodded. "Just for an hour."
"M'kay, enjoy yourself. Watch out for traffic," Jack cautioned as he habitably did. Not that Sam couldn't handle D.C. as she kept up her fitness schedule whenever she was in town with him, but it would just be ridiculous for her to get hurt while running for exercise and not running from perusing aliens. "Want breakfast when you get back?"
"Sure, I'd enjoy it." Sam crossed to her dresser and picked up her cell phone that had been sitting on top. Slipping it into her back pocket, she rounded the bed and brushed a kiss against his mouth. "See you in an hour."
Jack absently nodded and watched as she disappeared down the staircase with her ponytail bouncing. He did regret not being able to go with her but it had been years since his knees had been in good enough shape for running. So it looked like he'd stick to the swimming to try and keep himself somewhat fit. He grimaced at that thought and got his butt moving. He'd promised Sam breakfast after all.
After finishing in the bathroom and dressing for work, he made his way downstairs. His knees creaked and he wondered, not for the first time sadly in his six years of living in the townhouse, how much longer he'd be able to manage them without too much pain.
Finding the local classical music station on the radio, his eyes landed on his calendar. It was Friday, October the fourteenth. And there, written on the otherwise innocent white square were three words: National Dessert Day.
Score!
Jack grinned as he draped his Class A jacket and tie over a kitchen chair. Now what dessert should he tempt Sam with when she got back? Rummaging through the cupboards and pantry for the breakfast pancake ingredients he thought it over. Well, jell-o was her favourite dessert—even if she did like the blue—so a jell-o concoction would be good.
Squinting at the bag of pretzels he wondered how they'd gotten on the shelf beside the flours and rolled-oats and other baking things. The pretzels should be on the shelf with the chips and crackers.
Wait.
Pretzels?
Didn't Cassie make a dessert with pretzels and jell-o? Pulling his head out of the pantry, he went to the kitchen counter and pulled open one of the drawers to reveal the clutter of cooking books and recipes on sheets of loose paper and torn from magazines.
Sorting through the loose recipes, he sorted out the ones in Cassie's writing, from the big looping letters of when she was first learning to write English to the clean and easy to read writing that she wrote in now.
Ah, there it was, Pretzle Jello Dessert. The spelling and loopy letters made it clear it was one of Cassie's earlier culinary discoveries.
Jack stuffed the other recipes back into the clutter and shut the drawer. Reading the recipe over, he saw that the pretzel crumb crust would take only ten minutes to bake, the cream cheese spread for the middle would only take a few minutes to mix, but it was the settling of the jell-o topping that would take hours.
Checking the time, he saw that there was no way even with using ice water to set the jell-o quickly that it would be ready to eat when Sam got back, but it would be definitely ready for dinner after work. And there would be enough time to get breakfast ready too after making it.
Setting the recipe on the counter, he got out two mixing bowl, the baking dish, electric beaters, kettle, and a few spatulas. In the fridge he found a stick of butter, cream cheese, and the tub of whipping cream. He walked back to the pantry and grabbed the bag of pretzels, found the sugar, and stood there looking over their two dozen boxes of jell-o.
Hum... well the recipe called for two packages, so with a shrug Jack grabbed two boxes of jell-o: one blue, one red.
Jack put the kettle to boil and whistling along with Bach, crushed the pretzels. Then he reached for the butter, mixed it in with some sugar, and spread the mix into the baking pan and popped it into the oven.
Wiping out the bowl, he dropped the full block of cream cheese in, added more sugar, and turned on the beater. Cream cheese splattered against the bowl.
"Whoops," Jack turned off the beater and checked to make sure there was no white splatters on his work clothes. Seeing none, he turned the beater back on at a slower speed. After mixing the cream cheese and sugar together, he beat in the whipped topping and set the bowl aside for later.
He grabbed the second bowl and poured in hot water from the kettle. Mixing the blue jell-o with the hot water first he stirred until everything was dissolved and added the red jell-o, and he was pleased when it all turned purple.
Jack figured if it was purple Sam wouldn't bug him about it being strawberry red which was what the recipe called for—and only went to show that red was better—or about him eating blue if he made it just blue for her. Putting the bowl of jell-o into the fridge to chill, the oven timer went and he pulled out the pretzel crust and set it on a rack to cool.
Dessert prepared but not together yet, he got down to making his homemade pancakes. The mix only took a few minutes to prepare so he turned back to the dessert.
Touching the the pretzel crust, he found it cool enough. He spread the cream cheese and whipped topping middle over the crust and then put the pan next to the still chilling bowl of purple jell-o in the fridge.
Turning back to making breakfast, the first pancake was on the skillet browning nicely when he heard the key in the door. Leaning back from the stove a bit, Jack looked from the kitchen across the open living room, and watched Sam appear in the living room from the entrance way. She was an enticing sight, all bright-eyed and cheeks rosy from her run with wisps of her hair escaping from her ponytail.
"Mmm, something smells good."
Jack smiled and waved the flipper at the stove. "First pancake is almost ready."
Crossing to him, she peered over his shoulder as he flipped the first pancake over. "Looking good. We got any of that cherry syrup left?"
"Should be in the fridge," Jack nodded at the appliance. When she turned her back to him, his eyes landed firmly on her very nicely rounded rear as she open the door. Said rounded rear paused, and then her attractive backside straightened, and she cast a look at him over her shoulder with eyebrow raised.
"Jack? What's in the fridge?"
"Dessert."
"Dessert? We haven't even had breakfast yet and you're making dessert?" Sam was exasperated as she took the syrup from the fridge and shut the door. "What about what your doctor said last week?"
Jack flipped out the pancake onto a waiting plate. His mood souring a bit he said in irritation, "I know what the doctor said. I was there." Holding her gaze and seeing the worry in her eyes, he then sighed and turning his attention back to the stove poured more batter into the skillet. "I know what he said and I am going to do better Sam. It's just, today is National Dessert Day."
"Oh." Sam was quiet then and all he heard was the syrup bottle being put down on the table.
He started a little when he felt Sam press up against him from behind, her hands curving around his thickened waist to link in front, as her head pressed against his shoulder.
"Did I ever tell you thank you?" she said softly against his shirt.
Jack felt his irritation give way to confusion as he self-consciously poked at the pancake. "Thank me for what?"
"For all those silly holidays you had us celebrate as a team."
"They weren't silly," he grumbled.
She squeezed his waist. "Yes, some of them were very silly. But some days, God, it was only you that got us... got me though. So... thank you. Thank you."
Jack felt the back of his neck heat and redden. He groped for something to say and finally settled on a gruff, "You're welcome."
"Turn off the stove please?"
"But the pancakes aren't done," Jack protested with a frown.
"I know, still, turn off the stove please."
Puzzled, he did as asked and turned the stove off. Sam unlinked her hands, and then grabbing his shirt, she pulled him around so that she was leaning against his front and looking him in the eye. Giving him a slow, soft smile her hands let go of his shirt and slid up, cupping his face as she raised her lips to his.
The kiss was gentle and intimate, a soft burn of leashed passion.
"Well, we should celebrate the holiday then Jack," the words whispered over lips, "but I think I can keep the doctor's orders in mind for more... activity, so that you can eat your dessert and I can enjoy my own dessert."
Jack felt his heart jolt hard at hearing how she rolled that word over. As his blood thickened and arousal stirred he had to clear his throat twice before he could say anything, and even then his voice was not really his. "H-how?"
Sam's blue eyes gleamed wickedly and made his blood pound hard.
"Oh, I think you know how."
Feeling one of her hands slide from his chin, down over his chest and venture low Jack decided that unlike the past fourteen years this holiday from this day forth, was only going to be celebrated in one way from now on.
With dessert.
-FINISHED
AN2: If interest in the dessert the full recipe can be found at www-dot-tasteofhome-dot-com/recipes/Pretzel-Jello-Dessert
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: M
Words: 1,850
Summary: Lt. General Jack O'Neill finds out, after his wife leaves for her morning run, that it is October the 14th and that means it is National Dessert Day! He just didn't expect his innocent attempt to celebrate the day to go down the path it does.
AN: Er, it moved from fluff, to sap, to smut. Don't ask me how, take it up with my three muses—a seal, a penguin, and a polar bear. I swear, they must be handing me off to each other while I'm writing like author-hot-potato or something.
Season 15
14 October 2011
Jack rolled over in bed, groping blindly for the warm body that should be beside him. Feeling nothing but rumpled sheets and the far of the edge of the mattress his head popped-up off his pillow and he squinted around the bedroom. Pale sunlight was just creeping through the large window, illuminating the many pictures and framed medals and awards hung on the walls—his and hers—but the warm body he was looking for wasn't in sight.
Cracking a big yawn he sat up in bed. Hearing running water on his left he looked towards the ensuite bathroom and saw that the door was closed, which answered the question of where his wife was.
Swinging his feet over the mattress, he set them onto the carpet and stood up. Rolling his neck and shoulders, Jack listening to the crackles of protest his body made and scratched his nails through his short hair.
"Good morning," Sam said cheerily as she stepped out of the bathroom in running sweats and tight jogging top, her long brown-dyed hair tightly restrained in a ponytail.
"Morning," Jack rumbled in return. "Going for a run this morning?"
Sam nodded. "Just for an hour."
"M'kay, enjoy yourself. Watch out for traffic," Jack cautioned as he habitably did. Not that Sam couldn't handle D.C. as she kept up her fitness schedule whenever she was in town with him, but it would just be ridiculous for her to get hurt while running for exercise and not running from perusing aliens. "Want breakfast when you get back?"
"Sure, I'd enjoy it." Sam crossed to her dresser and picked up her cell phone that had been sitting on top. Slipping it into her back pocket, she rounded the bed and brushed a kiss against his mouth. "See you in an hour."
Jack absently nodded and watched as she disappeared down the staircase with her ponytail bouncing. He did regret not being able to go with her but it had been years since his knees had been in good enough shape for running. So it looked like he'd stick to the swimming to try and keep himself somewhat fit. He grimaced at that thought and got his butt moving. He'd promised Sam breakfast after all.
After finishing in the bathroom and dressing for work, he made his way downstairs. His knees creaked and he wondered, not for the first time sadly in his six years of living in the townhouse, how much longer he'd be able to manage them without too much pain.
Finding the local classical music station on the radio, his eyes landed on his calendar. It was Friday, October the fourteenth. And there, written on the otherwise innocent white square were three words: National Dessert Day.
Score!
Jack grinned as he draped his Class A jacket and tie over a kitchen chair. Now what dessert should he tempt Sam with when she got back? Rummaging through the cupboards and pantry for the breakfast pancake ingredients he thought it over. Well, jell-o was her favourite dessert—even if she did like the blue—so a jell-o concoction would be good.
Squinting at the bag of pretzels he wondered how they'd gotten on the shelf beside the flours and rolled-oats and other baking things. The pretzels should be on the shelf with the chips and crackers.
Wait.
Pretzels?
Didn't Cassie make a dessert with pretzels and jell-o? Pulling his head out of the pantry, he went to the kitchen counter and pulled open one of the drawers to reveal the clutter of cooking books and recipes on sheets of loose paper and torn from magazines.
Sorting through the loose recipes, he sorted out the ones in Cassie's writing, from the big looping letters of when she was first learning to write English to the clean and easy to read writing that she wrote in now.
Ah, there it was, Pretzle Jello Dessert. The spelling and loopy letters made it clear it was one of Cassie's earlier culinary discoveries.
Jack stuffed the other recipes back into the clutter and shut the drawer. Reading the recipe over, he saw that the pretzel crumb crust would take only ten minutes to bake, the cream cheese spread for the middle would only take a few minutes to mix, but it was the settling of the jell-o topping that would take hours.
Checking the time, he saw that there was no way even with using ice water to set the jell-o quickly that it would be ready to eat when Sam got back, but it would be definitely ready for dinner after work. And there would be enough time to get breakfast ready too after making it.
Setting the recipe on the counter, he got out two mixing bowl, the baking dish, electric beaters, kettle, and a few spatulas. In the fridge he found a stick of butter, cream cheese, and the tub of whipping cream. He walked back to the pantry and grabbed the bag of pretzels, found the sugar, and stood there looking over their two dozen boxes of jell-o.
Hum... well the recipe called for two packages, so with a shrug Jack grabbed two boxes of jell-o: one blue, one red.
Jack put the kettle to boil and whistling along with Bach, crushed the pretzels. Then he reached for the butter, mixed it in with some sugar, and spread the mix into the baking pan and popped it into the oven.
Wiping out the bowl, he dropped the full block of cream cheese in, added more sugar, and turned on the beater. Cream cheese splattered against the bowl.
"Whoops," Jack turned off the beater and checked to make sure there was no white splatters on his work clothes. Seeing none, he turned the beater back on at a slower speed. After mixing the cream cheese and sugar together, he beat in the whipped topping and set the bowl aside for later.
He grabbed the second bowl and poured in hot water from the kettle. Mixing the blue jell-o with the hot water first he stirred until everything was dissolved and added the red jell-o, and he was pleased when it all turned purple.
Jack figured if it was purple Sam wouldn't bug him about it being strawberry red which was what the recipe called for—and only went to show that red was better—or about him eating blue if he made it just blue for her. Putting the bowl of jell-o into the fridge to chill, the oven timer went and he pulled out the pretzel crust and set it on a rack to cool.
Dessert prepared but not together yet, he got down to making his homemade pancakes. The mix only took a few minutes to prepare so he turned back to the dessert.
Touching the the pretzel crust, he found it cool enough. He spread the cream cheese and whipped topping middle over the crust and then put the pan next to the still chilling bowl of purple jell-o in the fridge.
Turning back to making breakfast, the first pancake was on the skillet browning nicely when he heard the key in the door. Leaning back from the stove a bit, Jack looked from the kitchen across the open living room, and watched Sam appear in the living room from the entrance way. She was an enticing sight, all bright-eyed and cheeks rosy from her run with wisps of her hair escaping from her ponytail.
"Mmm, something smells good."
Jack smiled and waved the flipper at the stove. "First pancake is almost ready."
Crossing to him, she peered over his shoulder as he flipped the first pancake over. "Looking good. We got any of that cherry syrup left?"
"Should be in the fridge," Jack nodded at the appliance. When she turned her back to him, his eyes landed firmly on her very nicely rounded rear as she open the door. Said rounded rear paused, and then her attractive backside straightened, and she cast a look at him over her shoulder with eyebrow raised.
"Jack? What's in the fridge?"
"Dessert."
"Dessert? We haven't even had breakfast yet and you're making dessert?" Sam was exasperated as she took the syrup from the fridge and shut the door. "What about what your doctor said last week?"
Jack flipped out the pancake onto a waiting plate. His mood souring a bit he said in irritation, "I know what the doctor said. I was there." Holding her gaze and seeing the worry in her eyes, he then sighed and turning his attention back to the stove poured more batter into the skillet. "I know what he said and I am going to do better Sam. It's just, today is National Dessert Day."
"Oh." Sam was quiet then and all he heard was the syrup bottle being put down on the table.
He started a little when he felt Sam press up against him from behind, her hands curving around his thickened waist to link in front, as her head pressed against his shoulder.
"Did I ever tell you thank you?" she said softly against his shirt.
Jack felt his irritation give way to confusion as he self-consciously poked at the pancake. "Thank me for what?"
"For all those silly holidays you had us celebrate as a team."
"They weren't silly," he grumbled.
She squeezed his waist. "Yes, some of them were very silly. But some days, God, it was only you that got us... got me though. So... thank you. Thank you."
Jack felt the back of his neck heat and redden. He groped for something to say and finally settled on a gruff, "You're welcome."
"Turn off the stove please?"
"But the pancakes aren't done," Jack protested with a frown.
"I know, still, turn off the stove please."
Puzzled, he did as asked and turned the stove off. Sam unlinked her hands, and then grabbing his shirt, she pulled him around so that she was leaning against his front and looking him in the eye. Giving him a slow, soft smile her hands let go of his shirt and slid up, cupping his face as she raised her lips to his.
The kiss was gentle and intimate, a soft burn of leashed passion.
"Well, we should celebrate the holiday then Jack," the words whispered over lips, "but I think I can keep the doctor's orders in mind for more... activity, so that you can eat your dessert and I can enjoy my own dessert."
Jack felt his heart jolt hard at hearing how she rolled that word over. As his blood thickened and arousal stirred he had to clear his throat twice before he could say anything, and even then his voice was not really his. "H-how?"
Sam's blue eyes gleamed wickedly and made his blood pound hard.
"Oh, I think you know how."
Feeling one of her hands slide from his chin, down over his chest and venture low Jack decided that unlike the past fourteen years this holiday from this day forth, was only going to be celebrated in one way from now on.
With dessert.
-FINISHED
AN2: If interest in the dessert the full recipe can be found at www-dot-tasteofhome-dot-com/recipes/Pretzel-Jello-Dessert
"Moldy Cheese Day" [drabble, Jack/Sam, K]
Title: Moldy Cheese Day
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 3,415
Summary: It is October the 9th and Jack is officially moved into his new D.C. home. Inviting his old team and commander to a housewarming get together, he takes time to mark the occasion and eat cheese.
Season 8
9 October 2004
Jack adjusted one of the platters set out on the table in his new dining room of his Virginian townhouse. Popping a piece of cubed cheese into his mouth from the platter, he took a step back and looked over the selection of three red wines and nine flavours of cheeses in cubes and wedges laid out. Everything looked good to him and he gave a satisfied nod.
Checking his watch again to see how they were doing for time, he rocked back on his heels and called out, "Carter! You ready yet? They'll be here soon!"
"In a minute!" was yelled down the stairs from upstairs.
"That's what you said last time!" Jack shouted back. Really, the woman could kit up for a mission in less than two minutes and they had started preparing for this hours ago and she still wasn't ready! What was she doing? Dyeing her hair or something?
"I mean it this time, in a minute!"
The doorbell cut off any response Jack would have made. Taking another piece of cheese, he ate it and then wiped his fingers on the hem of his blue shirt and crossed to the front door. Opening it, he found George Hammond in a grey shirt and black slacks holding a ribbon wrapped box on his new front steps.
"Sir, come on in," Jack greeted as he gestured the man in, "you're the first to get here."
"It's George now Jack," Hammond reminded the younger general as he stepped over the threshold and presented his gift. "I think this will warm you up some nights in your new home."
"I'll get it right one day George." Jack accepted the gift and pulled down the ribbon around the box to read that he had just been presented with a twelve-year-old whisky bottle of Johnnie Walker's Black Label. His eyebrows raised, "Nice, Sir, very nice. Thank you."
"George," the man reminded.
Jack made a rueful face and led to the kitchen-dining area.
"Still buying furniture?" Hammond asked as they walked through the open living room.
Jack looked at the sparse furniture: a two-person sofa, lounger, and coffee table. "I'm still trying to make up my mind about paying to have my old stuff in storage shipped out here or buying new."
Hammond gave him a sympathetic look. "I chose a few of my favourites to bring with me and the rest I bought new."
Jack sighed but tucked the advice away in his mind. In the kitchen, he set the gift on the part of the kitchen counter that had been kept clear for said gifts and then waved to the spread on the table. "Help yourself Sir—George. The wine that is beside the cheese platter is the wine that goes best with those cheeses—or anyway that's what the shop girl told me—so feel free to have as many glasses of wine on the go as you'd like."
Footsteps down the stairs had Jack looking away from Hammond and the table to see Carter descending from upstairs. His universe seemed to narrow down as first he saw her black sandal clad feet with toenails painted a sharp red, then the long line of her bare legs leading into the short cocktail dress with its deep V-neckline generously displaying the curves of her breasts, up to her beautiful face framed by the flaring strands of her blonde hair. For such a stunning statement, her expression was shy as her teeth worried lips that were painted a sharp red as she stepped off the last stair.
Jack cleared his throat, but couldn't think of anything to say as he stood rooted in place. The amused voice of his former commander in his ear made him abruptly aware that there was more than just the two of them in the room.
"I would advise breathing Jack," Hammond said in a low voice before stepping past to greet Carter with his hand outstretched . "You are looking wonderful tonight."
"Thank you Sir," Carter flushed prettily as she accepted the outstretched hand.
"At ease Sam, at ease," Hammond patted her hand that he held reassuringly. "I'm retired now remember? It's just George now."
Jack made his feet move and covered the short distance to the two. Clearing his throat again, his eyes connected with hers and he said, "Yeah, you look... great."
"Thanks," Carter gave him a small smile and relaxed some.
The doorbell rang and Jack gestured towards the door, "I'll um, I'll just go get that."
Turning away, he blew out a breath. He knew Carter, he'd worked beside her in the field for seven years but the woman... the woman every now and then made everything male in him sit up and take notice and it had gotten worse since they'd started... well he wasn't really sure what they'd started but it was complicated.
Opening his front door he found the last two guests on his doorstep. Daniel was wearing a blue and white plaid shirt beneath his open jacket and was holding a long thin box with two hands. Teal'c in his brown fedora stood behind him, wearing one of his weirdly patterned shirts in green and was holding... a bundle of firewood? On the steps beside their feet were their overnight bags.
"Daniel, Teal'c, glad you made it."
"No thanks to your directions," Daniel rebutted. "You said you lived in the house on the end."
"It is the one on the end."
"It's the end unit of the townhouse," Daniel countered.
Jack shrugged. How else was he supposed to say it? Quirking a look at the wood in Teal'c's hands he inquired, "What's with wood T? I don't have a fire pit out back yet but I could put one in."
"DanielJackson informed me that it was customary for the guests to a warming of the house celebration to offer wood as a gift," Teal'c replied.
Jack gave Daniel a quizzical look. "What have you been teaching him?"
"It's true Jack, the term 'housewarming' comes from a time when guests would bring gifts of firewood to build fires in the fireplaces to warm the house and repel evil spirits by creating a protective atmosphere of warmth."
"If you say so... Thanks then Teal'c, too bad the new fireplace is gas. Well, come on in," Jack stepped back from the doorway and motioned them in. "You can leave your bags in the entrance for now—we'll take them upstairs after the tour."
The two men did as instructed and stepped into the townhouse.
"Wow," Daniel looked impressed as he looked around the open design of the first floor over. "I can see why you got the end unit. Those bay windows are beautiful."
"Some of the views are good too, especially out back," Jack explained with some pride as the windows were one of the reasons he'd gone with this unit over one of the squished-in-the-middle ones. The many big windows were not the best security for controlling access, but there were other security tradeoffs like his old place had had. "There's a park behind this place instead of more houses."
"A selling point?" Daniel promoted with a grin.
Jack smiled and nodded and led them over to where Carter and Hammond were.
As the three men and Carter exchanged their own greetings, he took the gift of bundled firewood from Teal'c so the man could clasp forearms with 'Hammond of Texas' and set it beside the boxed bottle of whiskey. It had been some time since everyone had seen each other as Hammond had been living in D.C. for some time now, first heading up HWS and now in his retirement as a special advisor.
Daniel turned from greeting Hammond and offered his gift with both hands. "Here Jack."
Jack took the long thin white box and feeling that it had a bit of weight to it, he set it down on the kitchen counter. After digging out a knife from a drawer to cut the tape he lifted off the lid. Nestled on the packaging foam was a bronze sword about two and half feet in length with a blade that was leaf-shaped and the hafting plate had rounded shoulders.
Jack whistled low as he reached into the box and picked up the sword, feeling its weight in his hands. As he held the weapon he felt Carter move close and peer over his shoulder.
"Wow," Carter agreed.
Daniel looked pleased at both their reactions. "It's a replica—that is fully functional and crafted in the same manner of an original—of a Late Bronze Age cloidhem which is Gaelic for 'sword.' The form itself is widely distributed in Europe but the one you're holding is a native Irish version of which slightly more than twenty swords have been found in Ireland."
"Irish you say?"
Daniel bobbed his head and smiled. "I thought you'd like that."
Jack put the bronze sword back onto the foam and reached out, gripping the young man firmly on the arm. "Thanks Daniel."
Daniel's smile broadened and it was plain he was thrilled his gift had gone over so well. "I thought it would go well on the wall with your medals."
"It will," Jack assured as he returned the smile. Then lifting his hand from Daniel's arm he waved it at the cheese and wine landed table, "Well, help yourselves. Teal'c, do you want ginger ale or juice? It's cranberry."
"Cranberry juice."
Jack crossed to the fridge and took out the plastic bottle and poured Teal'c a drink into one of the wine glasses on hand and handed it over. Return the bottle to the fridge he close the door and they joined the three at the dining table. Carter handed the glass that had been poured for him earlier and he raised it up, "Sláinte!"
His four guests raised their glasses and echoed the Gaelic toast to health.
When the toast ended Daniel stepped up beside him with his glass of wine in hand. "Cheese and wine Jack? I was more expecting peanuts, pretzels, and beer. Not… this." He used the hand holding the glass to gesture at the table.
"What, an old Irishman can't be cultured?" Jack quipped.
Daniel gave him a look that said plainly he would not be taken in by any of Jack's tricks on this.
"Okay, okay," Jack surrendered. "Carter said if I wanted cheese, no beer."
Daniel turned a considering look towards Carter in her testosterone rising black dress as she chatted softly with Hammond and Teal'c.
Jack braced himself when Daniel looked back at him with a speculative look on the younger man's face—it wasn't hard to get speculative when Carter was wearing something like that—but to his relief Daniel didn't say anything about it.
"But why cheese?" Daniel asked.
"Because I'm celebrating," Jack explained. He had a reason for not having peanuts or chips for snacks after all. "And I thought it important to mark it."
"Yes, that's why we're here."
"No, I'm marking that the move here official means I'll never have to deal with it again."
Daniel furrowed his brow in puzzlement. "What are you talking about?"
"The holiday."
"What holiday?"
"Moldy Cheese Day," Jack announced.
"Moldy Cheese Day?" Daniel echoed incredulously. "What kind of holiday is that?"
"Indeed O'Neill," Teal'c rumbled. "Why would one mark a day that celebrates the decomposition of a nourishing food?"
"Hey, don't ask me why the holiday exists. I didn't make it up—"
"Sometimes I swear you do—" Daniel muttered.
"Hey! I heard that Daniel," Jack glared at his younger friend before continuing, "As I was going to say—I'm marking it because as of today I will never have to clean out my fridge again because of getting stuck off-world."
"Oh," Daniel said. He looked down at the glass in his hand, before looking up again with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yeah, some of those were... yuck."
"Yuck? You know what, twenty-three languages—"
"Twenty-six now."
"—and 'yuck' is the best word you can come up with?"
"I have to agree with Daniel," Carter stepped up beside them with Hammond at her side. "There isn't a much better word for dealing with the stuff in your fridge than 'yuck.'"
Jack hadn't cleaned out his fridge as many times as his teammate had—as it seemed he got stuck off-world alone more than they did so they did it for him—but he could see where they were coming from. When there had been base lockdowns he'd had to do it for himself, not to mention cleaning out Daniel's fridge all those times he'd 'died'... never for Carter though, and Teal'c living on base didn't have that issue.
"Your leftovers were bad," Carter continued.
Daniel shuddered. "Not as bad as the salsa though."
"No," she agreed, "never as bad as that and I still can't believe you kept claiming that was a science experiment."
"It was," Jack insisted.
"Toxic concoction is more like it," Carter retorted.
"Indeed," Teal'c affirmed.
Jack looked the three in the face, Daniel determined, Carter teasing, and Teal'c resolute, and surrendered. He could win sometimes when it was just Daniel, but you'd think after seven years he'd know to just throw in the towel when Carter got started, not to mention Teal'c. Must be the stubborn Irish in him. "Okay, okay, yuck it is."
As the three celebrated the win in their own ways, Jack found his gaze caught by Hammond who raised his glass in silent toast. Jack returned it. He knew that his old commander understood in ways his former team didn't, or hadn't, grasped yet. He was celebrating yes, but he was also mourning. No more moldy food meant no more trips off-world. More than his promotion to commanding SGC where he'd managed to sneak a handful of trips off-world, this move to D.C. meant he was grounded. Most likely for the rest of his life.
"So, son," Hammond gestured to the table, "I've been snacking on a few but why don't you tell us what I've been snacking on?"
Jack nodded and pointed to the first platter of cheeses and bottle of wine behind it, "Now with the Pinot Noir are three soft cheeses: brie, camembert, and feta."
"I am unfamiliar with the words brie and camembert," Teal'c stated.
"They're all cheeses, just different names for specific ones. Brie is a mild, creamy cheese, the camembert a rich, creamy cheese and the feta is a white salty Greek cheese. The brie and camembert are cut into the wedges and look pretty much the same so the fork-tine patterns on some mark them as the camembert. The crumbly cubes of course are the feta and you've had feta in those Greek salads you like ordering at O'Malley's."
Teal'c popped a cube of feta into his mouth and nodded.
"The second platter with the Zinfandel behind it has harder cheeses: Asiago cheese, blue cheese, and gouda cheese."
"Asiago?" Daniel promoted and ate some brie. "That sounds Italian."
"It is, Italian I mean, and it's got a rather nutty flavour to it—that's the white cubes on that platter. The blue cheese has a sharp and salty flavour to it and is in wedges, so is the gouda cheese which is yellow in colour and is sharp and salty in flavour with a bit of spice to it."
Daniel made a face. "I can't believe you bought blue cheese."
"What is wrong with the blue variety of cheese?" Teal'c asked.
"Blue cheese is a cheese that has had mold added," Daniel wrinkled his nose, "and it smells like moldy socks."
"Do you not consume a fruit-flavored dessert made from collagen extracted from the boiled bones, connective tissues, and intestines of animals?" Teal'c countered.
Jack chuckled. "He's got you there Daniel."
"It smells," Daniel insisted; his glasses riding high on his scrunched up nose. Pointedly, he took some camembert and ate the wedge.
Jack just chuckled again and moved on. "The last bottle is the Valpolicella." Jack frowned and he tried to remember what the shop girl had told him about the cheeses. "Well those three are all artisan cheeses and I don't remember what they're called."
"I'm surprised you knew all you just told us," Daniel teased.
"Hey, it's been a while," Jack kept his face very straight. "I can't remember everything all the way back to the beginning of the program."
Daniel gave him a curious look.
"Yeah, I've been saving up all this cheese from the first year for a special occasion—and this is it. Hey, don't look at me like that Daniel. You don't think I let you guys throw out all my science experiments now did ya?" Jack protested.
The two men, and even Hammond, cast dubious glances at the cheeses they'd just been eating. Daniel even went so far as to put down the second wedge of camembert he'd just picked up.
Jack slid a glance at Carter from the corner of his eye and even though she—his co-shopper—was looking spectacularly innocent herself, the wicked gleam in her blue eyes was just too much and he couldn't keep in a snorted chuckle. That was too much for her it seemed, and she promptly started giggling which made it impossible for him not to laugh too.
"Funny Jack," Daniel said as he picked up the piece of camembert again, "very funny."
"I thought so," Jack grinned wickedly and put his glass down on the table and clapped his hands together. "Now, who's up for a tour of the new house? We've still got time to kill before dinner is delivered."
"I would enjoy a tour of your new abode," Teal'c said.
"Before we start though," Daniel put his glass down, "what's for dinner?"
"Mexican."
"Mexican?"
"Yeah, nachos and cheeses, I figure it'll go good with the cheese." Jack popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and grinned when Daniel gave him a look. Oh, he wasn't joking about the Mexican but he was about the nachos and cheese. He'd actually ordered pozole and some other real stuff from a small ethnic place, and not Tex-Mex or anything.
"Now, the tour!" Jack stepped back from the dining table and swung his arms out. "You've seen the living room and kitchen. Follow me, and we'll go out back for a look at the back deck and backyard."
Setting off, Jack found himself rather enthused as he showed his new home off to Daniel, Teal'c, and Hammond. After showing off the deck and backyard, he directed the guys back into the house and up the stairs. When they reached the second floor, he stepped off the staircase into the small hallway and pointed things out.
"That's the laundry stuff and the bathroom is between the two bedrooms. You two will be sharing the big one," Jack addressed Daniel and Teal'c, "so feel free to bring your bags up later. There's a computer set up in the room too for a home office, but it's not really a home office 'cause I'm not willing to put up with the security needed for it so don't expect me to be in there using it. Carter might be though as she's in the second bedroom which is computer free."
Jack ignored the look that Daniel gave him at that statement. Carter was sleeping in that bedroom, just like she slept in the other bedroom at the cabin, and everything between them and the future was... complicated.
He gave a shake of his head and returned his attention to the men poking around his new house. There wasn't too much to see, the rooms had as little furniture as the first level but there was more stuff up on the walls up here from his old place than downstairs.
Jack checked his watch and realised that it was close to delivery time. "I'm heading back downstairs because the take-out should be here shortly. Feel free to look around here more and upstairs—it's just my bedroom and the really big bathroom with the jacuzzi tub but the view's really good—and I'll call you when dinner's set out."
"I'll help you put away the platters," Carter offered.
"Thanks," Jack accepted and turning they started down the stairs. As they moved down, he cast a look at the women beside him and when she gave him a small smile at catching his look, he himself gave a satisfied nod.
Yes, the future was complicated, but good.
-FINISHED
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 3,415
Summary: It is October the 9th and Jack is officially moved into his new D.C. home. Inviting his old team and commander to a housewarming get together, he takes time to mark the occasion and eat cheese.
Season 8
9 October 2004
Jack adjusted one of the platters set out on the table in his new dining room of his Virginian townhouse. Popping a piece of cubed cheese into his mouth from the platter, he took a step back and looked over the selection of three red wines and nine flavours of cheeses in cubes and wedges laid out. Everything looked good to him and he gave a satisfied nod.
Checking his watch again to see how they were doing for time, he rocked back on his heels and called out, "Carter! You ready yet? They'll be here soon!"
"In a minute!" was yelled down the stairs from upstairs.
"That's what you said last time!" Jack shouted back. Really, the woman could kit up for a mission in less than two minutes and they had started preparing for this hours ago and she still wasn't ready! What was she doing? Dyeing her hair or something?
"I mean it this time, in a minute!"
The doorbell cut off any response Jack would have made. Taking another piece of cheese, he ate it and then wiped his fingers on the hem of his blue shirt and crossed to the front door. Opening it, he found George Hammond in a grey shirt and black slacks holding a ribbon wrapped box on his new front steps.
"Sir, come on in," Jack greeted as he gestured the man in, "you're the first to get here."
"It's George now Jack," Hammond reminded the younger general as he stepped over the threshold and presented his gift. "I think this will warm you up some nights in your new home."
"I'll get it right one day George." Jack accepted the gift and pulled down the ribbon around the box to read that he had just been presented with a twelve-year-old whisky bottle of Johnnie Walker's Black Label. His eyebrows raised, "Nice, Sir, very nice. Thank you."
"George," the man reminded.
Jack made a rueful face and led to the kitchen-dining area.
"Still buying furniture?" Hammond asked as they walked through the open living room.
Jack looked at the sparse furniture: a two-person sofa, lounger, and coffee table. "I'm still trying to make up my mind about paying to have my old stuff in storage shipped out here or buying new."
Hammond gave him a sympathetic look. "I chose a few of my favourites to bring with me and the rest I bought new."
Jack sighed but tucked the advice away in his mind. In the kitchen, he set the gift on the part of the kitchen counter that had been kept clear for said gifts and then waved to the spread on the table. "Help yourself Sir—George. The wine that is beside the cheese platter is the wine that goes best with those cheeses—or anyway that's what the shop girl told me—so feel free to have as many glasses of wine on the go as you'd like."
Footsteps down the stairs had Jack looking away from Hammond and the table to see Carter descending from upstairs. His universe seemed to narrow down as first he saw her black sandal clad feet with toenails painted a sharp red, then the long line of her bare legs leading into the short cocktail dress with its deep V-neckline generously displaying the curves of her breasts, up to her beautiful face framed by the flaring strands of her blonde hair. For such a stunning statement, her expression was shy as her teeth worried lips that were painted a sharp red as she stepped off the last stair.
Jack cleared his throat, but couldn't think of anything to say as he stood rooted in place. The amused voice of his former commander in his ear made him abruptly aware that there was more than just the two of them in the room.
"I would advise breathing Jack," Hammond said in a low voice before stepping past to greet Carter with his hand outstretched . "You are looking wonderful tonight."
"Thank you Sir," Carter flushed prettily as she accepted the outstretched hand.
"At ease Sam, at ease," Hammond patted her hand that he held reassuringly. "I'm retired now remember? It's just George now."
Jack made his feet move and covered the short distance to the two. Clearing his throat again, his eyes connected with hers and he said, "Yeah, you look... great."
"Thanks," Carter gave him a small smile and relaxed some.
The doorbell rang and Jack gestured towards the door, "I'll um, I'll just go get that."
Turning away, he blew out a breath. He knew Carter, he'd worked beside her in the field for seven years but the woman... the woman every now and then made everything male in him sit up and take notice and it had gotten worse since they'd started... well he wasn't really sure what they'd started but it was complicated.
Opening his front door he found the last two guests on his doorstep. Daniel was wearing a blue and white plaid shirt beneath his open jacket and was holding a long thin box with two hands. Teal'c in his brown fedora stood behind him, wearing one of his weirdly patterned shirts in green and was holding... a bundle of firewood? On the steps beside their feet were their overnight bags.
"Daniel, Teal'c, glad you made it."
"No thanks to your directions," Daniel rebutted. "You said you lived in the house on the end."
"It is the one on the end."
"It's the end unit of the townhouse," Daniel countered.
Jack shrugged. How else was he supposed to say it? Quirking a look at the wood in Teal'c's hands he inquired, "What's with wood T? I don't have a fire pit out back yet but I could put one in."
"DanielJackson informed me that it was customary for the guests to a warming of the house celebration to offer wood as a gift," Teal'c replied.
Jack gave Daniel a quizzical look. "What have you been teaching him?"
"It's true Jack, the term 'housewarming' comes from a time when guests would bring gifts of firewood to build fires in the fireplaces to warm the house and repel evil spirits by creating a protective atmosphere of warmth."
"If you say so... Thanks then Teal'c, too bad the new fireplace is gas. Well, come on in," Jack stepped back from the doorway and motioned them in. "You can leave your bags in the entrance for now—we'll take them upstairs after the tour."
The two men did as instructed and stepped into the townhouse.
"Wow," Daniel looked impressed as he looked around the open design of the first floor over. "I can see why you got the end unit. Those bay windows are beautiful."
"Some of the views are good too, especially out back," Jack explained with some pride as the windows were one of the reasons he'd gone with this unit over one of the squished-in-the-middle ones. The many big windows were not the best security for controlling access, but there were other security tradeoffs like his old place had had. "There's a park behind this place instead of more houses."
"A selling point?" Daniel promoted with a grin.
Jack smiled and nodded and led them over to where Carter and Hammond were.
As the three men and Carter exchanged their own greetings, he took the gift of bundled firewood from Teal'c so the man could clasp forearms with 'Hammond of Texas' and set it beside the boxed bottle of whiskey. It had been some time since everyone had seen each other as Hammond had been living in D.C. for some time now, first heading up HWS and now in his retirement as a special advisor.
Daniel turned from greeting Hammond and offered his gift with both hands. "Here Jack."
Jack took the long thin white box and feeling that it had a bit of weight to it, he set it down on the kitchen counter. After digging out a knife from a drawer to cut the tape he lifted off the lid. Nestled on the packaging foam was a bronze sword about two and half feet in length with a blade that was leaf-shaped and the hafting plate had rounded shoulders.
Jack whistled low as he reached into the box and picked up the sword, feeling its weight in his hands. As he held the weapon he felt Carter move close and peer over his shoulder.
"Wow," Carter agreed.
Daniel looked pleased at both their reactions. "It's a replica—that is fully functional and crafted in the same manner of an original—of a Late Bronze Age cloidhem which is Gaelic for 'sword.' The form itself is widely distributed in Europe but the one you're holding is a native Irish version of which slightly more than twenty swords have been found in Ireland."
"Irish you say?"
Daniel bobbed his head and smiled. "I thought you'd like that."
Jack put the bronze sword back onto the foam and reached out, gripping the young man firmly on the arm. "Thanks Daniel."
Daniel's smile broadened and it was plain he was thrilled his gift had gone over so well. "I thought it would go well on the wall with your medals."
"It will," Jack assured as he returned the smile. Then lifting his hand from Daniel's arm he waved it at the cheese and wine landed table, "Well, help yourselves. Teal'c, do you want ginger ale or juice? It's cranberry."
"Cranberry juice."
Jack crossed to the fridge and took out the plastic bottle and poured Teal'c a drink into one of the wine glasses on hand and handed it over. Return the bottle to the fridge he close the door and they joined the three at the dining table. Carter handed the glass that had been poured for him earlier and he raised it up, "Sláinte!"
His four guests raised their glasses and echoed the Gaelic toast to health.
When the toast ended Daniel stepped up beside him with his glass of wine in hand. "Cheese and wine Jack? I was more expecting peanuts, pretzels, and beer. Not… this." He used the hand holding the glass to gesture at the table.
"What, an old Irishman can't be cultured?" Jack quipped.
Daniel gave him a look that said plainly he would not be taken in by any of Jack's tricks on this.
"Okay, okay," Jack surrendered. "Carter said if I wanted cheese, no beer."
Daniel turned a considering look towards Carter in her testosterone rising black dress as she chatted softly with Hammond and Teal'c.
Jack braced himself when Daniel looked back at him with a speculative look on the younger man's face—it wasn't hard to get speculative when Carter was wearing something like that—but to his relief Daniel didn't say anything about it.
"But why cheese?" Daniel asked.
"Because I'm celebrating," Jack explained. He had a reason for not having peanuts or chips for snacks after all. "And I thought it important to mark it."
"Yes, that's why we're here."
"No, I'm marking that the move here official means I'll never have to deal with it again."
Daniel furrowed his brow in puzzlement. "What are you talking about?"
"The holiday."
"What holiday?"
"Moldy Cheese Day," Jack announced.
"Moldy Cheese Day?" Daniel echoed incredulously. "What kind of holiday is that?"
"Indeed O'Neill," Teal'c rumbled. "Why would one mark a day that celebrates the decomposition of a nourishing food?"
"Hey, don't ask me why the holiday exists. I didn't make it up—"
"Sometimes I swear you do—" Daniel muttered.
"Hey! I heard that Daniel," Jack glared at his younger friend before continuing, "As I was going to say—I'm marking it because as of today I will never have to clean out my fridge again because of getting stuck off-world."
"Oh," Daniel said. He looked down at the glass in his hand, before looking up again with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yeah, some of those were... yuck."
"Yuck? You know what, twenty-three languages—"
"Twenty-six now."
"—and 'yuck' is the best word you can come up with?"
"I have to agree with Daniel," Carter stepped up beside them with Hammond at her side. "There isn't a much better word for dealing with the stuff in your fridge than 'yuck.'"
Jack hadn't cleaned out his fridge as many times as his teammate had—as it seemed he got stuck off-world alone more than they did so they did it for him—but he could see where they were coming from. When there had been base lockdowns he'd had to do it for himself, not to mention cleaning out Daniel's fridge all those times he'd 'died'... never for Carter though, and Teal'c living on base didn't have that issue.
"Your leftovers were bad," Carter continued.
Daniel shuddered. "Not as bad as the salsa though."
"No," she agreed, "never as bad as that and I still can't believe you kept claiming that was a science experiment."
"It was," Jack insisted.
"Toxic concoction is more like it," Carter retorted.
"Indeed," Teal'c affirmed.
Jack looked the three in the face, Daniel determined, Carter teasing, and Teal'c resolute, and surrendered. He could win sometimes when it was just Daniel, but you'd think after seven years he'd know to just throw in the towel when Carter got started, not to mention Teal'c. Must be the stubborn Irish in him. "Okay, okay, yuck it is."
As the three celebrated the win in their own ways, Jack found his gaze caught by Hammond who raised his glass in silent toast. Jack returned it. He knew that his old commander understood in ways his former team didn't, or hadn't, grasped yet. He was celebrating yes, but he was also mourning. No more moldy food meant no more trips off-world. More than his promotion to commanding SGC where he'd managed to sneak a handful of trips off-world, this move to D.C. meant he was grounded. Most likely for the rest of his life.
"So, son," Hammond gestured to the table, "I've been snacking on a few but why don't you tell us what I've been snacking on?"
Jack nodded and pointed to the first platter of cheeses and bottle of wine behind it, "Now with the Pinot Noir are three soft cheeses: brie, camembert, and feta."
"I am unfamiliar with the words brie and camembert," Teal'c stated.
"They're all cheeses, just different names for specific ones. Brie is a mild, creamy cheese, the camembert a rich, creamy cheese and the feta is a white salty Greek cheese. The brie and camembert are cut into the wedges and look pretty much the same so the fork-tine patterns on some mark them as the camembert. The crumbly cubes of course are the feta and you've had feta in those Greek salads you like ordering at O'Malley's."
Teal'c popped a cube of feta into his mouth and nodded.
"The second platter with the Zinfandel behind it has harder cheeses: Asiago cheese, blue cheese, and gouda cheese."
"Asiago?" Daniel promoted and ate some brie. "That sounds Italian."
"It is, Italian I mean, and it's got a rather nutty flavour to it—that's the white cubes on that platter. The blue cheese has a sharp and salty flavour to it and is in wedges, so is the gouda cheese which is yellow in colour and is sharp and salty in flavour with a bit of spice to it."
Daniel made a face. "I can't believe you bought blue cheese."
"What is wrong with the blue variety of cheese?" Teal'c asked.
"Blue cheese is a cheese that has had mold added," Daniel wrinkled his nose, "and it smells like moldy socks."
"Do you not consume a fruit-flavored dessert made from collagen extracted from the boiled bones, connective tissues, and intestines of animals?" Teal'c countered.
Jack chuckled. "He's got you there Daniel."
"It smells," Daniel insisted; his glasses riding high on his scrunched up nose. Pointedly, he took some camembert and ate the wedge.
Jack just chuckled again and moved on. "The last bottle is the Valpolicella." Jack frowned and he tried to remember what the shop girl had told him about the cheeses. "Well those three are all artisan cheeses and I don't remember what they're called."
"I'm surprised you knew all you just told us," Daniel teased.
"Hey, it's been a while," Jack kept his face very straight. "I can't remember everything all the way back to the beginning of the program."
Daniel gave him a curious look.
"Yeah, I've been saving up all this cheese from the first year for a special occasion—and this is it. Hey, don't look at me like that Daniel. You don't think I let you guys throw out all my science experiments now did ya?" Jack protested.
The two men, and even Hammond, cast dubious glances at the cheeses they'd just been eating. Daniel even went so far as to put down the second wedge of camembert he'd just picked up.
Jack slid a glance at Carter from the corner of his eye and even though she—his co-shopper—was looking spectacularly innocent herself, the wicked gleam in her blue eyes was just too much and he couldn't keep in a snorted chuckle. That was too much for her it seemed, and she promptly started giggling which made it impossible for him not to laugh too.
"Funny Jack," Daniel said as he picked up the piece of camembert again, "very funny."
"I thought so," Jack grinned wickedly and put his glass down on the table and clapped his hands together. "Now, who's up for a tour of the new house? We've still got time to kill before dinner is delivered."
"I would enjoy a tour of your new abode," Teal'c said.
"Before we start though," Daniel put his glass down, "what's for dinner?"
"Mexican."
"Mexican?"
"Yeah, nachos and cheeses, I figure it'll go good with the cheese." Jack popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and grinned when Daniel gave him a look. Oh, he wasn't joking about the Mexican but he was about the nachos and cheese. He'd actually ordered pozole and some other real stuff from a small ethnic place, and not Tex-Mex or anything.
"Now, the tour!" Jack stepped back from the dining table and swung his arms out. "You've seen the living room and kitchen. Follow me, and we'll go out back for a look at the back deck and backyard."
Setting off, Jack found himself rather enthused as he showed his new home off to Daniel, Teal'c, and Hammond. After showing off the deck and backyard, he directed the guys back into the house and up the stairs. When they reached the second floor, he stepped off the staircase into the small hallway and pointed things out.
"That's the laundry stuff and the bathroom is between the two bedrooms. You two will be sharing the big one," Jack addressed Daniel and Teal'c, "so feel free to bring your bags up later. There's a computer set up in the room too for a home office, but it's not really a home office 'cause I'm not willing to put up with the security needed for it so don't expect me to be in there using it. Carter might be though as she's in the second bedroom which is computer free."
Jack ignored the look that Daniel gave him at that statement. Carter was sleeping in that bedroom, just like she slept in the other bedroom at the cabin, and everything between them and the future was... complicated.
He gave a shake of his head and returned his attention to the men poking around his new house. There wasn't too much to see, the rooms had as little furniture as the first level but there was more stuff up on the walls up here from his old place than downstairs.
Jack checked his watch and realised that it was close to delivery time. "I'm heading back downstairs because the take-out should be here shortly. Feel free to look around here more and upstairs—it's just my bedroom and the really big bathroom with the jacuzzi tub but the view's really good—and I'll call you when dinner's set out."
"I'll help you put away the platters," Carter offered.
"Thanks," Jack accepted and turning they started down the stairs. As they moved down, he cast a look at the women beside him and when she gave him a small smile at catching his look, he himself gave a satisfied nod.
Yes, the future was complicated, but good.
-FINISHED
"Techies Day" [drabble, Jack & Sam, K]
Title: Techies Day
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 818
Summary: Colonel Jack O'Neill makes it a habit to celebrate the less 'traditional' holidays in some way, so how to show his appreciation to the techie in his life on October 3rd?
AN: My little show of appreciation to all techies out there on this day.
Season 5
30 September 2001
Sunday morning Jack considered the date marked four days ahead on the calendar hanging in his kitchen as he drummed his fingertips on his countertop. His scribbled note read 'Carter Day' but to the rest of the world it was 'Techies Day.'
What to do, what to do.
His toaster popped and still pondering what to do he began spreading blueberry jam on the toast. The butter knife slowed and he looked consideringly at the kitchen appliance on his countertop. Carter had just lost hers two or so months ago—to a stargate in her basement—and maybe he could get her one?
Jack discarded the idea with a shake of his head. She had probably already replaced it and a while a toaster was technically a doohickey it was not really a doohickey. He felt on Techies Day his own techie deserved something... something deserving.
He wasn't having much luck though thinking up something that was appropriate and safe to give.
Taking the first bite of his toast he picked up the phone and dialled a number. It was picked up after two rings and after listening to the greeting of the sixteen-year-old speaker he said, "Hey Cass? I've got a project for you..."
Wednesday afternoon Jack paused outside the closed door to Carter's lab and checked it for bio-hazard, nuclear reaction, or other Do-Not-Enter signs that occasionally decorated it. Seeing the door was bare he figured it was closed because either Carter wasn't in or she wanted to be left alone.
He adjusted his grip on the small package he carried wrapped in plain brown paper that hid the ThinkGeek.com logo on the box and fished out his keycard and slid it though the reader. The lock disengaged and he stuck his head through the door. He saw that Carter was in; treating her chair like a stool by perching on the edge of the seat as she sat at her counter-table-desk and beyond the usually electronic beeps of the room there was the steady click-click of typing.
Stepping into the room he cleared his throat, "Carter?"
The typing paused and Carter lifted up her head to look across the counter at him. "Sir? Can I help you?"
Jack shook his head as he stepped further into the room right up to the counter. "It's October the third today Carter."
"Yes Sir, it is," Carter gave him a quizzical look.
Jack tsked. "It seems you've forgotten what October the third is."
Carter looked a little pale and worried now. "I'm sorry Sir, but I don't remember what's today."
Jack mentally chided himself: he meant to get her excited about the date, not wind her up into a bundle of worried nerves. "Relax Carter, it's just—here." He set the package on the counter and pushed it across the surface to her.
Sam felt a little less worried now as she reached for the small package the Colonel had just set down. It must be one of those weird holidays that he was always celebrating. While he usually just told everyone what day it was and 'encouraged,' that is ordered, them into participating he sometimes marked them with cards and even more rarely with gifts.
Pulling off the brown paper she looked at the "ThinkGeek: stuff for smart masses" logo on the box and then gave the Colonel a searching look. What was, or how had he come across a website like that and did she want to know what said website sold?
The Colonel just looked expectantly back at her.
Picking up a handy blade she sliced through the tape, opened up the box, and had to laugh at what was inside. There, nestled in the foam packaging peanuts was a four inch by four inch silver toaster. And it was not just a small toaster—it was a USB toaster hub. A very cute USB toaster hub with a thumbdrive shaped like a piece of buttered toast with a smiley face on it as well.
She couldn't help smiling as she pulled the two things out of the box and set them on the counter beside her laptop. "How did you manage to find these Sir?"
He rocked back on his heels looking both smug and a little sheepish. "Cassie helped. The smiling toast thingy to plug in the top is actually from her."
Sam gave an amused shake of her head as she fingered the smiling toast shaped thumbdrive. She could see getting that from Cassie, but the toaster hub from the Colonel? That was a surprise. "Thanks Sir and just what is today?"
"Com'on Carter, I give you a doohickey and you still can't figure out what today is?"
"Nope, sorry."
The Colonel tsked again, though it was harder to do with that very smug look on his face. "It's Techies Day Carter. So, happy Techies Day."
-FINISHED
USB toaster hub and thumbdrives can be viewed at www.thinkgeek.com/product/ee91/
Author: A. Karswyll
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rated: K
Words: 818
Summary: Colonel Jack O'Neill makes it a habit to celebrate the less 'traditional' holidays in some way, so how to show his appreciation to the techie in his life on October 3rd?
AN: My little show of appreciation to all techies out there on this day.
Season 5
30 September 2001
Sunday morning Jack considered the date marked four days ahead on the calendar hanging in his kitchen as he drummed his fingertips on his countertop. His scribbled note read 'Carter Day' but to the rest of the world it was 'Techies Day.'
What to do, what to do.
His toaster popped and still pondering what to do he began spreading blueberry jam on the toast. The butter knife slowed and he looked consideringly at the kitchen appliance on his countertop. Carter had just lost hers two or so months ago—to a stargate in her basement—and maybe he could get her one?
Jack discarded the idea with a shake of his head. She had probably already replaced it and a while a toaster was technically a doohickey it was not really a doohickey. He felt on Techies Day his own techie deserved something... something deserving.
He wasn't having much luck though thinking up something that was appropriate and safe to give.
Taking the first bite of his toast he picked up the phone and dialled a number. It was picked up after two rings and after listening to the greeting of the sixteen-year-old speaker he said, "Hey Cass? I've got a project for you..."
. . .
Wednesday afternoon Jack paused outside the closed door to Carter's lab and checked it for bio-hazard, nuclear reaction, or other Do-Not-Enter signs that occasionally decorated it. Seeing the door was bare he figured it was closed because either Carter wasn't in or she wanted to be left alone.
He adjusted his grip on the small package he carried wrapped in plain brown paper that hid the ThinkGeek.com logo on the box and fished out his keycard and slid it though the reader. The lock disengaged and he stuck his head through the door. He saw that Carter was in; treating her chair like a stool by perching on the edge of the seat as she sat at her counter-table-desk and beyond the usually electronic beeps of the room there was the steady click-click of typing.
Stepping into the room he cleared his throat, "Carter?"
The typing paused and Carter lifted up her head to look across the counter at him. "Sir? Can I help you?"
Jack shook his head as he stepped further into the room right up to the counter. "It's October the third today Carter."
"Yes Sir, it is," Carter gave him a quizzical look.
Jack tsked. "It seems you've forgotten what October the third is."
Carter looked a little pale and worried now. "I'm sorry Sir, but I don't remember what's today."
Jack mentally chided himself: he meant to get her excited about the date, not wind her up into a bundle of worried nerves. "Relax Carter, it's just—here." He set the package on the counter and pushed it across the surface to her.
. . .
Sam felt a little less worried now as she reached for the small package the Colonel had just set down. It must be one of those weird holidays that he was always celebrating. While he usually just told everyone what day it was and 'encouraged,' that is ordered, them into participating he sometimes marked them with cards and even more rarely with gifts.
Pulling off the brown paper she looked at the "ThinkGeek: stuff for smart masses" logo on the box and then gave the Colonel a searching look. What was, or how had he come across a website like that and did she want to know what said website sold?
The Colonel just looked expectantly back at her.
Picking up a handy blade she sliced through the tape, opened up the box, and had to laugh at what was inside. There, nestled in the foam packaging peanuts was a four inch by four inch silver toaster. And it was not just a small toaster—it was a USB toaster hub. A very cute USB toaster hub with a thumbdrive shaped like a piece of buttered toast with a smiley face on it as well.
She couldn't help smiling as she pulled the two things out of the box and set them on the counter beside her laptop. "How did you manage to find these Sir?"
He rocked back on his heels looking both smug and a little sheepish. "Cassie helped. The smiling toast thingy to plug in the top is actually from her."
Sam gave an amused shake of her head as she fingered the smiling toast shaped thumbdrive. She could see getting that from Cassie, but the toaster hub from the Colonel? That was a surprise. "Thanks Sir and just what is today?"
"Com'on Carter, I give you a doohickey and you still can't figure out what today is?"
"Nope, sorry."
The Colonel tsked again, though it was harder to do with that very smug look on his face. "It's Techies Day Carter. So, happy Techies Day."
-FINISHED
USB toaster hub and thumbdrives can be viewed at www.thinkgeek.com/product/ee91/
Labels:
drabble,
friendship,
holiday,
jack&sam,
Quirky Holidays Series,
rated:K,
stargate
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