Windows 10

Jun. 7th, 2016 07:37 pm
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I've only had it a few hours but I'm pretty certain I hate it. I knew where everything was in XP. I have to figure out how to load, download, buy something to write with because, evidently, no office on 10. You have to buy it separately. What a rip-off. It may be a while before new fic flies but I'm fairly sure (Hopeful, more accurately) that all my stuff is still safe on the jump drive.
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So the finale of Downton Abbey aired last night. And, for reasons known only to them, my cable provider chose last week to rearrange channels. Vanished into the ether was the local PBS channel, the Food Network, TV Land.

I finally figured out I could watch the midnight. So, yes, I was up until 2 AM watching TV.

Would I have done anything differently for the ending? I don't think so, it hit all the right notes for me. One scene that I wish I'd seen would have been in the previous episode where Edith tells her parents why she is leaving Downton, that Mary has deliberately sabotaged her sister's happiness and that she feels Cora and Robert are complicit. They allowed Mary to badger and bully Edith for years, as if it were part of her birthright and never called her on it, made no attempt to stop it. I think Edith should have called them on it so they would finally realize they (especially Robert) are at least partly responsible for Mary's selfish willfulness. I might have to fanfic that one.

And now, it's another phone call to the cable company since I realize one of the channels that has disappeared is ION TV. Yes, the only channel that airs Saving Hope in the US. Sighs heavily.....
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Title: J is for Journal
Summary: Teal’c, on the advice of Daniel Jackson, had begun to record his thoughts. In this entry, he ponders on those odd Tau’ri women.
Word Count: 527
Characters: Teal’c. Peripherally, Jack, Daniel, Sam, Janet.
Era: Classic team
Category: General musings, no dialogue
Author’s Notes: Although I would love to do so, I don’t have the energy to do one of these for every single episode: some of Teal’c’s impressions, as years progress. For Alphabet Soup.

The Tau’ri have many strange habits. This, I should have realized from my first encounters with them, as they brought a woman into battle. I at first took her for a concubine but O’Neill and Daniel Jackson both spoke to her, looking directly in her unveiled face, without benefit of the protection of either husband or male relative. At least, she had shame enough to cover her head, although, to be precisely honest, O’Neill and Daniel Jackson do so also, even though both have taken a First Wife.
Then, I believed her to be a slave guard, her life belonging to Daniel Jackson, for it was immediately apparent that he was not battle trained. He speaks before being spoken to, does not solicit O’Neill’s permission and readily divulges information best kept secret. He is either a foolish man or a brave one. Possibly both.
However, when Captain Carter asked me to relinquish my weapon upon reaching their world, I did so. Their weapons were strange to me but I found myself at a disadvantage. I gave her my weapon but kept silent so that I may observe.

I labor to understand the inclusion of Daniel Jackson and Captain Carter on O’Neill’s team. Daniel Jackson’s strengths would be better utilized by his remaining within the safe confines of the base; I have encountered no other Tau’ri with his capacity to learn and understand about unknown enemies.
Captain Carter remains even more of an enigma. Through conversation with her and Daniel Jackson, I have learned that she is unmarried, yet is allowed to own property and reside in such property without the required protection. And has no restrictions placed upon how she may purchase necessities for this home. Although I am loath to query, it becomes apparent that this is not an anomaly on this world. The healer, Dr. Fraiser, appears to be allowed the same latitudes.
I have never encountered a situation where mere women are allowed to place themselves in such vulnerable situations. And yet, neither seems to seek a mate within this base, which would seem to offer an unlimited selection of potential husbands.
Perhaps this lack of male companionship can be attributed to the costumes both women choose. Captain Carter covers her body with the same apparel that the men wear while Dr. Fraiser’s attire cannot have been selected to elicit interest.
Although apparently healthy, neither woman has become either a Second Wife nor have borne children from a husband. I do not understand fathers who allow their daughters to squander their child-bearing years.
When Captain Carter and I are more acquainted, perhaps I will query if she wishes me to assist her in obtaining a husband.
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So CBS is picking up the pilot for the MacGyver reboot. (Also, oddly enough, one about Dr. Phil's younger days.....).

MacGyver will be about how he came to the Phoenix Foundation and maybe some of the backstory. I'm reserving judgement, all I ask is they not screw it up.
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Ended up with 16 inches of snow. Pretty much what they predicted.

Didn't lose power or cable or internet so I can still entertain myself.

Currently 9F at 6:41AM so I ain't opening the door any time soon.

Supposed to be near 50F by end of the week and if this all melts quickly.....

I took a few pics (through the window) but I don't know how to post them here. They're on my Facebook but that's in my real life name so I won't link to that. If you're interested enough to look at some pics, WKYT is the tv station I usually watch and they have lots of pics and videos.
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The weather folks have decided to start naming all major storms and not just hurricanes. And so they've named this one Jonas. Yeah, that's what I said, Jonas. Two of what could be argued are the least favorite characters from stargate.

Anyway, if you check the snow forecast, I'm somewhere buried beneath the 8-14 inches prediction. The snow I can handle; I just hope we don't get the ice, the sleet, the freezing rain. That the power stays on, the water pipes don't freeze.

I'm just gonna grab the books, the flashlight, the blanket and hope for the best.
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Good heavens, no one won the powerball last night! Wednesday's jackpot is estimated at $1.3 billion.....yes that is billion with a b....
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Thank goodness the American media has something to talk about besides He Whose Name I Am Tired of Hearing. Powerball fever sweeps the nation! Every TV channel is doing live stand-ups of folks buying lottery tickets.

The jackpot is unimaginable. I mean, I literally cannot wrap my head around that kind of money. If one person wins and takes the cash pay-out, they will win nearly $500,000,000. Yes, that is five hundred million dollars!

And, of course, the next question is: what would you do with that kind of money. (Yes, I have a ticket. How could you not?) Buy a house, buy ten houses? An island? A car for every day of the week?

I would take care of my family first. None of my siblings would have to worry about mortgages or car payments or how they are going to send their kids to college.

I would build myself a nice house. Not Highclere Castle but something that has enough room to have company and has plenty of outdoor space and a good view. And, unfortunately, it would also have to include gates and fences because the nuts would be swarming the place.

Get a nice set of wheels. I don't need an Italian sports car but a nice spacious SUV might be nice.

I would build three things for my community. A new library and a new community center that includes things like a fitness center and a movie theater, or something for the young folks to do. And some type of venue for live music, plays, etc. There is such a wealth of musical talent in my area; I'd like to foster that somehow.

I would set up a foundation through which to funnel all the donation requests you know you're going to get. I'd like to focus on scholarships, mental health issues, food insecurity, employment opportunities.

I'd take myself off to do some things strictly for myself. Travel to Hawaii and Ireland, two of my dream trips. Visit some of my online friends; Australia and England, here I come! Maybe take in some Stargate cons, see some folks live and in person. Attend some University of Kentucky basketball games. Even some of those away from home, like Italy or the Bahamas......

If you hear a big thunk around 11PM local time, it'll be me falling out of the recliner.......
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Richard was forced to cancel his weekend commitments due to debilitating back pain. On his site, there is a list of people who have agreed to receive and forward cards to RDA. Although online well wishes are nice, it has been pointed out that it may well be some time before Rick can sit comfortably at a computer to view them.

On the website, click on the get well update in the box on the right and you can find the email addresses of folks who will give you, on request, their address so you can send the card that will then be forwarded to Rick.

Please think about picking up a card or sending a note to a man who has given us so much pleasure and happiness over the years. Keep him in your thoughts and send him happy vibes and let him know we love him!
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So ION TV just finished airing the first season on Saving Hope. And how could I have forgotten how damned good Michael was? I don't know when they will start airing season two, which I have not seen, as this is as far as American TV got when airing the show originally.

I owe a lot of folks comments on some stellar fic and artwork but I've been very under the weather for several months. Bad side effects from the meds I have been taking to get my thyroid kick-started have kept me tied down too long. But the doctor cut back on one med and started me on another so we will see.

I'm going to put this under a cut because it is very NCIS spoilery for last night's episode.

Read more... )
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A is For Alpha, by SG-wonderland

Summary: The SGC’s inability to create an outgoing wormhole results in SG1 spending a week visiting the folks at the Alpha Site.

Word count: 1951
Characters: Colonel Jack O’Neill, Major Samantha Carter, Teal’c, Dr. Daniel Jackson, Colonel David Spencer, assorted Alpha Site personnel
Era: Classic team
Categories: Team interaction/interaction with Alpha site personnel
Author's notes: Stranded off-world but no danger. For the Off-world Alphabet Soup

A is for Alpha Site
Colonel David Spencer allowed himself two minutes of self-pity as he strode toward the mess for the evening meal. Life on Alpha usually chugged along quietly, like the well-oiled machine upon which the military insisted. However, this morning a wormhole malfunction threw a monkey wrench squarely in the midst of that machine, leaving it squeaky and laboring toward an uncertain future. Well, technically, that would be four monkey wrenches.
He took a deep breath before entering the mess hall and facing his biggest problem head on. SG-1 was seated at his designated table and as far as he could calculate, would be his honored guests for at least a week.
“Colonel O’Neill, Major Carter, Dr. Jackson, Teal’c,” he greeted his guests. “Sorry I’m late.”
O’Neill waved his hand languidly. “That’s okay; we’ve already been greeted by both the waiter and the sommelier.” Dr. Jackson choked. “Something funny, Daniel?”
“There’s no such thing as a beer sommelier, Jack.” Spencer thought he detected a noticeable twitch to Dr. Jackson’s lips. He knew that SG-1 was the most unusually manned team at the SGC but he was surprised at the casual attitude Jackson had toward his commanding officer. He had to keep reminding himself that Jackson wasn’t military.
O’Neill rose. “I’d just as soon we get in line. We don’t expect special treatment, Colonel Spencer. We’re just another team as long as we’re here.”
“Just keep telling yourself that, Jack.” Spencer snorted as he followed them through the line. He wasn’t going to share with O’Neill the SG-1 gossip that was already running rampant across the base. He doubted that Major Carter could blow the whole base up with the contents of her pack; that Dr. Jackson was likely to either fall dead at any moment or get snatched by aliens; that Teal’c could lift a Jeep with one hand. And Spencer knew enough about O’Neill to know that most of the truth about his service would never be known.
Spencer just hoped his staff got past the hero worship phase quickly. The gate techs had flocked to help Major Carter analyze the data from the SGC and his aide hadn’t been able to articulate multi-syllable words as she handed SG-1 their visitor passes although he couldn’t fault her for the rooms she had assigned them. The barracks at C1 were the best visitor accommodations available, with several semi-private sleeping rooms and a designated officer’s quarters.
“So, David, is there anything specific we can do for you while we’re here? I can tell you that Teal’c and I are gonna be completely useless in fixing the SGC’s problems. Daniel might be able to fetch coffee or something.”
Spencer took his time perusing the night’s offering as a cover for the thoughts churning through his mind. “Let me think about that, Jack, and I’ll get back to you. I’m sure we can think of something to occupy your time.”
“I can tell you, Colonel Spencer, that Jack’s already scoped out your water source to determine if there are, in fact, any fish in that river.” Jackson pointed to the fajitas.
“Uh, Dr. Jackson, just so you know, the cook goes pretty heavy on the spices.” Spencer pointed out.
“Daniel has asbestos intestines, so he can probably handle it. Now, me, I think that baked chicken and stuffing looks pretty good.”
“The dish does appear most appetizing, O’Neill.” Spencer believed it was the first words he’d heard Teal’c speak. Major Carter and Jackson were quietly bickering about something as they selected desserts and drinks.
“Give it a rest, Carter.” O’Neill trailed them back to the table. “When have I ever treated you like ‘the girl’?” He took the seat beside Jackson. “Carter’s got her knickers in a twist because I assigned her the officers’ quarters. And it has nothing to do with her sex; it has everything to do with her tapping on that laptop the whole damned night and keeping me awake. That way, Daniel can sneak in and argue with her and Teal’c and I can finally get a full night’s sleep. Five days in a real bed without the two of them yammering at me all the time? I’m treating this as a vacation.”
“I’ll yammer at you every night before bedtime.” Jackson promised.
“Indeed you will not, Daniel Jackson, as my sleeping accommodation is adjacent to that of Colonel O’Neill.”
Both Carter and Jackson grinned unrepentantly.

Spencer made a point of getting to the mess extra early the next morning; therefore, he was more than a little disconcerted to find SG-1 already seated and plowing through breakfast.
“It doesn’t make sense for the wormhole to ‘know’ the difference in outgoing or incoming.” Carter waved a fork at Jackson.
“How many times have I heard you say ‘something-something-intuitive’?” Jackson rose to refill his coffee. Then, with a shrug, he just brought a carafe to the table.
“The wormhole isn’t capable of intuitive, independent thinking.” She countered at his return.
“So it’s like Jack?”
“Hey,” Jack frowned. “I was just minding my business here, eating my eggs. I didn’t ask to be insulted. By the way, Spencer, these eggs are really good.”
“That’s because they’re fresh eggs.”
“What?” O’Neill pushed the eggs around his plate.
“We’ve got an agricultural co-op going here. We raise chickens, cows, and pigs.”
“Are you growing crops?” Jackson asked excitedly.
“We are, Dr. Jackson. Would you like to take a look at the operations?” Please say yes, Spencer was thinking.
“I’d love it.”
“Me, too.” Carter flushed. “I mean, I’d love it if Daniel went out to look at the corn and beans, sirs.”
“And left you the hell alone?” O’Neill drawled.
“I would never say that, sir.” Carter replied primly.
“No, because I said it for you. Okay, Daniel, you get to tour the farm. Carter, back to the wormhole problem. Teal’c…”
“I will accompany Daniel Jackson on this farm tour.”
“Okay, keep in touch, kids. Spencer, why don’t you brief me on your security procedure? And you can let me know if you need anything.”

Spencer glanced behind him as Jackson and Teal’c followed Dr. Martinez toward the farm. “So, is there a reason Teal’c decided to go with Dr. Jackson?”
O’Neill shot him a quick glance. “No offense intended but until Teal’c has assured himself of your base security, he’s liable to bird-dog both Daniel and Carter.”
“So that’s why one of the guards reported they observed him walking a perimeter several times last night?”
“Just get used to it, I have.” O’Neill shrugged. “Teal’c’s got some kind of a Jaffa life bond thing going…don’t ask. So what’s your procedure for incoming wormholes?”
Spencer led him into the control room. “We don’t expect regular incoming like the SGC so….”

Spencer, O’Neill and Carter had already selected their dinners and were eating when Daniel and Teal’c finally made it. “You kids missed curfew again; your mother and I were worried.”
“Jack, they have the most amazing growing season here! They can get three full crops in a calendar year.” Jackson was slightly flushed under his boonie.
“Daniel, what have I told you about sunscreen?” O’Neill used his fork to tap the end of Jackson’s nose.
“I should have warned you about the sun,” Spencer apologized.
“Medical after dinner, Daniel.”
“Oh, but, Jack, Dr. Peyton was going to show me how they graft fruit trees.”
“I will escort Daniel Jackson to seek the proper medical care. Let us obtain a meal, Daniel Jackson.”
“Dr. Peyton and her trees will still be there tomorrow, Daniel.”

Spencer and O’Neill weren’t running when they entered the infirmary but both men were definitely moving fast.
Teal’c greeted them at the door. “Daniel Jackson was uninjured, Colonel O’Neill. Dr. Peyton suffered a serious cut while demonstrating a procedure. We immediately transported her to this facility and the medical staff is assessing her condition.”
“Jack.” Daniel pushed through the doors; O’Neill drew a sharp breath at the splashes of red splattering the khaki T-shirt. “Not my blood, Jack. Connie was showing me how they graft and they use really, really sharp knives and maybe I was talking too much and her hand slipped….”
Jack rested his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “She’s in good hands, Daniel. Sounds like you and Teal’c did everything right.”
“They did, Colonel O’Neill.” A scrub-clad woman had followed Daniel into the room. “She’s got eighteen stitches in her hand, Colonel Spencer, and she’ll be on medical leave for a week or so but she’s damned lucky. If she’d been alone, she likely would have bled out before anyone found her. Dr. Jackson held pressure on the wound while Teal’c carried Dr. Peyton to the Jeep and then drove her right here.” She smiled at the two men. “And they both need to get cleaned up and maybe have some quiet time. I know that had to have been very traumatic.”
“On the contrary, Dr. Men, Daniel Jackson and I encounter many unexpected situations off-world; emergency medical aid is not unknown to any member of an SG team. However, I would welcome a shower and clean clothing. Daniel Jackson expressed a desire for a cup of coffee several hours ago. We should seek to fulfill that desire in all due haste.”
“Okay, shower, change of clothes, coffee. In that order.” O’Neill steered Jackson toward the exit.
“I’ll catch you over at the commissary,” Spencer said. “I want to check on Dr. Peyton first, and then I’ll be right over.”
“I wasn’t exaggerating, Colonel.” Dr. Men beckoned Spencer to follow her. “That injury could have easily been fatal.”
“Do we need to revisit medical procedures for the farm?”
“It wouldn’t hurt, Colonel Spencer.”
“Write up a proposal, Dr. Men. And I’ll talk to General Hammond; maybe we can get Dr. Fraiser out here for a few days and have her give us an assessment of what we can do better.”
“Thank you, sir. Dr. Peyton is right through here.”

There were cheers on both sides of the wormhole when a MALP lumbered through, carrying a cage of live mice. Carter turned toward O’Neill. “That looks like a successful outgoing wormhole, sir. All subjects arrived alive and unharmed.”
“Alright! With your permission, General Hammond, SG-1 will arrive in approximately one hour.”
“We’ll be expecting you. Good work, Alpha Site and Major Carter. SGC out.”

In the two weeks since SG1 had departed, Colonel Spencer had gotten a request for changes in medical procedure, a proposal to have Major Carter posted temporarily to Alpha for teaching purposes, three not-so-off-hand inquiries about how to apply for a position on a gate team and two people who had wondered about the possibility of stocking the lake with fish, indigenous to Earth and edible.
He realized that SG1, whether intentional or not, had left their mark on Alpha.
sg_wonderland: (Default)
So one of the local channels, for unfathomable reasons, airs two episodes of Stargate SG1. And there's really no rhyme and reason for the episode order. Last night, the first was Prototype. Daniel is smart and smokin' hot and you could write a bunch about how he is standing in for Jack O'Neill by suggesting Khalek is too dangerous to live.
The Daniel/Khalek scene is full of sexual innuendo and, if he'd lived, there could have been some nasty, dirty, smutty slash fiction. That pairing just begs for it. If I could just figure out how to make it work.
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Summary: Yet another Daniel Jackson birthday
Jack/Daniel slash fic

“I hate the IOC.” Daniel declared as he slumped on their bed.
Jack peered over his reading glasses. “You do? There’s a news flash.”
“Four hours. Four hours, Jack, to discuss a minor alteration to the original treaty.”
Jack tucked a marker in his book, set it aside and leaned over, sliding his arm around Daniel’s chest, bringing him down across the bed so that Daniel’s head was nestled in Jack’s hip. “Hi,” he swooped down for a quick kiss.
“I wrote my resignation while I was there.” Jack’s eyebrows rose. “In thirty-seven different languages.”
Jack’s fingers tousled Daniel’s already disheveled hair. “Did you hand it in?”
“I wanted to, I really wanted to!”
“But you didn’t?”
“You know what I promised the President. But they could have picked a better day for this.” Daniel knew he was whining and frankly, didn’t care.
“Hey, the cake will still be good tomorrow.” Jack glanced at the clock. “Well, later today.”
“Yeah, but I’m used to a certain amount of personal attention on my birthday. The highlight of my day shouldn’t be getting propositioned by a foreign ambassador!” Even as Jack silently promised to discover the name of the ambassador, he couldn’t fault him (or her) for his taste. At fifty, Daniel might be even more attractive than he had been at twenty-five. His hair had the subtle sheen of a sprinkling of grey hair, the lines only brought attention to his expressive eyes, the suits he was now required to wear flattered the well-toned body.
“Well, tomorrow, I mean today, you can have the day off. Sleep in, pig out, do whatever you want to do.”
Daniel groaned. “I wish I could. I have a meeting with the disclosure committee at…” his brain stalled, “some time in the morning.”
Jack grinned wickedly as he rolled over until he had Daniel pinned beneath him. “I’ll get you out of it.”
Daniel smiled back at him. “Yeah?”
Jack shrugged. “I know a guy. So you wanna get naked or you gonna sleep in your clothes?”
Daniel’s eyes were already reacting to his prone position. “I’m going…” He faded off.
Jack sighed as he deftly undressed his sleeping partner, eased the covers out from under him before turning out the light. “Happy birthday, Dr. Jackson.”
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Because today is Magnavox's birthday and she demanded this after Ireland's historic fic. And because her wish is always my command......

An Irish Country Honeymoon

“Okay,” Daniel groused. “I am here, on time and have brought my passport. Who in the hell needs me so badly that I have to get up at oh-dark-thirty?”
Jack waited as Daniel fastened his seatbelt. “The who would be me.”
“You?” Daniel quirked an eyebrow as he felt the jet engines accelerate.
“I always need you. You know that.” Jack suddenly turned serious.
“I know that.” Daniel squeezed his hand back. “But where are we going?”
“You just got an urge to weekend in Ireland?”
“Not a weekend. Got us both a week.”
“A week?” Daniel realized his questions weren’t getting him the answers he required.
“Thought you might like a honeymoon. You know, after the ceremony.” With a big smile, Jack handed him a sheet of folded paper.
Daniel unfolded the paper, his mind frozen. “They did it?”
“They did indeed. And where else would a good Irish boy want to be married but on the Old Sod?” Jack’s Irish accent had not improved over the years. “Just waiting for, you know, you to say yes.”
Daniel’s eyes sparkled. “That was never in question. So, a week in Dublin?”
“Ceremony in Dublin. A week in our own secluded country cottage. Just the two of us and a field of cows. Or maybe sheep. So, what do you say?”
“I say that I love you very, very much and I would love to spend the rest of my life with you.” Daniel leaned over to meet Jack’s kiss. “And the rest of our lives start today.”
“Today.” Jack agreed.
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Please be aware that there is a site, ebook-tree, that has stolen numerous fics without author permission and are selling them for profit. I'm only one of the many people who have been f**ked over by these people.

So let me set the record straight. I didn't authorize this, I get no money for this and you NEVER HAVE TO PAY TO READ MY FICS! I post on my Dreamwidth, my LiveJournal and Archive of Our Own.

I'm not making any money out of this. I write because I love the fandom, the characters, the shows and mostly, for my own satisfaction. It gives me pleasure to create and I share that freely.

Don't pay to read my fics! Ever. There are people who publish ezines and charge for them. That's totally their right to do so but certainly make sure that the creator of the work is the one who is getting paid.

As further proof of their audacity, they have stolen published works of Stephen King and Anne Rice, to name a couple.

Edit: my fics have now been removed. I suppose the backlash was getting a bit too hot!
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One Hundred

“Gotta delivery for ya, Dr. J.” The corporal wheeled the dolly into Daniel’s office.
“Ok, th…whoa, what is that?” He eyed the garishly decorated box.
“Don’t open ‘em,” he slid the box onto the desk. “Just deliver ‘em.”
“Thank you,” Daniel grabbed a knife and cut the packing tape and ripped into the box. “Huh.” The box, the entire box, was full of Snicker bars. And not the mini ones or even the regular size. No, it was the really big, satisfy-your-hunger size.
With a grin, he grabbed the phone and dialed. “Hey, you.”
“Happy anniversary, my baby.”
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D is for Don’t Look Back
Time Travel Alphabet Soup
Author: Sg-wonderland

“So,” Jack nestled another log into the dying fire. “1969. What a year.”
Daniel clasped the tin cup holding his coffee; Jack fervently hoped he wasn’t preparing an oral dissertation about the differences of 1969 coffee and the current offering. They’d all been subjected to babblings about any number of things, none of which were about the really important stuff like the moon landing, the Mets and Woodstock.
“Actually, sir, I’ve been thinking,” Sam piped up while Daniel was drawing breath, “I wonder if we haven’t already inadvertently shifted the time line.”
“Because?” Jack stretched out his legs.
“Because Project Blue Book’s official end date was December of 1969 and was officially closed in January of 1970.”
“You think our being here may have caused it?” Daniel frowned.
“It makes a certain kind of sense.”
“It does. But who have we interacted with that has that kind of power?”
“That’s probably out of our scope of reasoning although I suppose it is possible….”
“So, 1969,” Jack drawled. “What were you guys doing?”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly. “We were in Greece. My parents and I. My mother was sick that whole summer. She seemed to be really sick but I’m relying on the memories of a four-year-old.”
“I thought you were four and a half?”
Daniel grinned. “When Mama said no, I would always tell her I was four and a half or five and a half or whatever. Even if it was the day after my birthday, I would add that ‘and a half!’”.
“You had to be the worst brat in the world.” Jack shook his head.
“I sometimes, mostly, well, almost always got my way. The advantage of being an only child, I suppose.” Daniel blinked innocently.
“You were a brat.”
“Anyway, we spent the whole summer on an island off the coast of Greece. There was a neighbor, Eleni, who brought food and cleaned. After a couple of weeks, Mama got better and Papa and I would go to the market every day and shop.” Daniel leaned back and his eyes grew wistful. “It was wonderful. We would swim in the early mornings. In the afternoon, it would get hot and we would sit and read the newspaper or listen to music or just take a nap. Then in the evening, we would eat dinner on the terrace while the sun went down or even take another swim. I think it was the most time, you know, real time, I ever spent with my parents.” He sighed loudly. “So, Jack,” he said too brightly, “what about you?”
“I was almost seventeen and wanted my own car so bad I could taste it. So my grandfather said if I worked on the farm with him, he’d help me buy it.” Sam choked back a laugh. “Something funny, Carter?”
“Absolutely not, sir.” She grinned unabashedly.
“I presume Captain Carter is displaying her disbelief that you would be well suited to the life of a farmer, O’Neill. I understand they are required to rise at an extremely early hour and should be prepared to provide a full day’s work.” Teal’c paused. “With a minimum of complaints.”
“I’ll have you know I was an excellent farmer! I drove the tractor, milked the cows, and pitched hay. Whatever needed done, I did.”
“And you got your car?” Sam shook her sleeve down to grasp the coffee pot off the fire and poured herself a refill.
“Oh, yeah,” Jack smiled dreamily. “It was a ’57 Bel Air hardtop. Man, that car would fly!” Before Teal’c could speak, Jack said, “I don’t mean fly as in ‘leave the ground.’ I mean fly, as in ‘go real fast.’”
“And you did?” Daniel asked.
“If my folks had known how many drag races I got into, I’d still be grounded.” Jack finished off his coffee. “So Daniel was skinny-dipping in the Mediterranean.” Ignoring the squawk from Daniel, he continued on, “I was shoveling,” Jack paused, a wicked gleam in his eyes, “manure in rural Minnesota. What were you doing, Carter?”
Sam rose slowly. “As I was all of one year old, sir, I suppose I was perfecting my already impressive walking skills. Good night.” She toasted them with her coffee before she strode toward the vehicle.
There was a long silence before Jack asked, “So. 1969. What a year!”


sg_wonderland: (Default)

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