sg_wonderland: (Default)
J is for Jack's in Trouble Again

Author: sg_wonderland
Summary: exactly what the title implies
Word Count: 204

Matthew sighed heavily when he saw his wife pacing their front porch. He grabbed his lunch box and slowly got out of the truck, putting off the moment of reckoning.

“So, what's he done this time?” Matthew stepped in front of Margaret, forcing her to stop.

“I got called to school....again. Jack and some of his buddies decided to liberate the frogs from the lab that were supposed to be dissected.”

“The frogs were...?”

“Already dead and in formaldehyde. And then they decided to...set the frogs free.”

Matthew felt his lip twitch. “And so they....?”

“Went out to the main entrance, put cigarettes in the frogs mouths, lit the cigarettes and placed them all over the sidewalk.” Matthew snorted. “Don't you laugh! Don't you dare laugh!”

“Not laughing,” Matthew couldn't help the laugh.

“Get it over with now because you cannot go in there laughing.” She turned her face so that he couldn't see her expression.

Matthew pulled her close. “Five minutes. Then we go inside.”

It took them seven minutes to get all the laughing out of their systems.
sg_wonderland: (Default)
N is No One Gets Left Behind by sg_wonderland

Summary: what makes Jack the man he is
Characters: Jack O'Neill, original character
word count: 953
Era: Pre series

Gus was busy stacking firewood when he heard his neighbor shouting his name. “Gus? You got any rope? We got a kid in the pond.”

Gus dropped his ax and ran to his shed where his grandson was puttering with an old lawn mower. “Jack, grab me that rope. Hurry.” Jack snatched it and followed him, running to keep up.

“What's going on?”

“Don says there's a kid fell through the ice.”

Jack felt a shudder run through him. If there was one thing his granddad had pounded into his head was that he was not to go out on the ice without someone with him and certainly not this late in the season.

They broke through the trees to find a dozen or so folks standing on the shore, gesturing across the ice. There was a hole, about twenty feet from shore and a dark head bobbing in the water.

“Crow,” Gus grabbed a tall, thin man. “What can we do?”

“We've called the fire department but I...I don't think we can wait. I tried going out there but the ice won't support my weight.”

“Damn,” Gus looked around. “And you're the lightest one out here.”

“I'll go,” a young voice piped up.

Stunned, Gus whirled around. “Jack!”

“I'm the littlest one here, I don't weigh much.” He thumbed his chest.

“Jack, I am not letting you go out there. No damn way.”

“Gus, we could tie him off, let him crawl out there.”

Gus yelled, “Have you lost your mind? I'm not sending a child out there.”

Jack had grabbed the rope and starting knotting it. “Tie it around my waist.”

“Here,” Crow took the rope.

Gus grabbed Jack by the elbows. “Jack, slow down, think about this.” He stared into intense, suddenly adult brown eyes.

“Granddad, that kid's drowning, we can't just do nothing.”

Gus sighed, then took the rope. “Okay tie it around his waist and loop it though his belt loops. Jack, you holler when you've got hold of him and we'll pull you both in.” He took a deep breath. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“We can't just leave him out there to die.”


Jack inched his way across the ice, holding his breath as if that would make him weigh less. “Hey, hold on, I'm coming,” he shouted.

“Hurry, I can't hold on!” The voice was weak, frightened.

“Okay, grab hold.”

“I can't let go of Freddie!” The boy cried.

“Freddie?” Jack was shocked.

“My dog. If I let go, he's going under.”

“Man, I can't pull both of you out. Reach out, now!”

“No,” the boy was now sobbing.

“For crying...” Jack swore. “Can you pull him out of the water?” He hoped it was a small dog; if it was a big one, they were all three goners.

“I'll try.”

Jack saw a couple of paws scrabbling for purchase on the ice. He jolted forward, reaching as far as he could and finally got a grip on a sodden hairy leg. He yanked as hard as he could and the dog popped out of the water with a squeal. Without looking, Jack slung the dog behind him. “Come on, give me your hand.”


“I got your damned dog now give me your hands!” Jack got hold of mittens, then worked his way up until he had a good grip of the collar of the boy's coat. “Pull!” He shouted as loud as he could, feeling the boy's weight as he slid up on the ice, which was still slivering ominously. Slowly, they slid away from the hole and onto firmer ice. Jack could hear the continuous cries of “Pull!” behind him.

“Where's Freddie?”

Wildly, Jack looked around. Freddie was frantically skittering on the ice, his paws slipping and sliding, skidding back toward the center of the pond. Smothering an oath and breathing heavily, he took a better grip with his left hand and released his right hand momentarily, long enough to grasp whatever part of the dog he could get to. “Here,” Jack shoved the dog toward the boy, trapping him between the two of them. “Hang the hell on to him.”

It seemed like hours until Jack finally felt hands on his ankles, then his legs, firmly pulling them off the ice.

“Jack,” he looked up from his seat on the floor in front of the roaring fireplace. The rescued boy and his dog had been whisked away by the fire department and Gus had rushed Jack home for a hot shower, a change of clothes and a mug of chocolate. Gus fumbled, “That was an awful brave thing you did today, buddy.”

Jack ducked his head and blushed. “It was nothing. I knew you guys weren't going to let me fall in or anything.”

“It was still brave. I'm very proud of you.”

Jack hoped his flushed face was because of the fire but he suspected it was the warm feeling of praise from his normally taciturn grandfather. “Well, you and Dad always said that we should help people if we can. And you wouldn't have left him behind either, would you?”

Gus sighed at those earnest brown eyes. “No, I wouldn't. Still,” he looked down at his big strong hands that continued to tremble just a bit. “I...I just think we shouldn't mention this to your mother. At least for a while.”

Jack grinned. “She might be pretty mad, huh?”

Gus grinned back. “No 'might' to it, bud.”
sg_wonderland: (Default)
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.
sg_wonderland: (Default)
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.
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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!”

Jack's age

Jan. 15th, 2015 09:18 am
sg_wonderland: (Default)
So I'm doing a time travel fic for the latest alphabet soup. I cannot think SG! and time travel without strolling through 1969. Which begs the question.

How old would Jack have been in 1969? There are two differing camps on his birthdate. Both 1952 and 1957 are presented as his year of birth. One is spoken canon, the other from ID screencaps.

I confess that I am favoring 1952 simply because I think a 13-year-old Jack would be more interesting to present than a 8-year-old.

That's how I feel, what do you think?
sg_wonderland: (Default)
Summary: Sam struggles to reconnect with Daniel
Written for Fig’s On-world alphabet soup

H is for Half-life

I was engrossed in SG-12’s mission report when a flash of movement caught my eye. Glancing up, I realized Daniel was lurking in my doorway. Suppressing the inevitable sigh, I invited him in. Since his return, he won’t enter anyone’s room or lab or office without express consent. The door would always be left wide open. I have yet to figure out if it’s a method of discouraging personal conversation or if it was Daniel’s way of insuring a speedy escape. Consequently, I feel the chasm between Daniel and SG-1 widening every day.

He was stiff and formal and so clearly uncomfortable that I want to hug him tight but I realized that would lead to more stiffness and formality. There is this beautiful shell where a friend used to be and I hate it. “Daniel, you know you don’t have to ask me every time you want to come in.”

“I…I didn’t used to do that?” He perched uneasily on the stool opposite me, keeping the wide lab table between us.

“Oh, Daniel, you used to burst in one anyone, anywere, without thinking about it.” My smile fades. “I wish, just once, you’d come in here like your hair was on fire.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “We used to be pretty good friends, huh?”

“The very best.”

“So, if I asked you to do me a favor, it wouldn’t be strange?”

My heart gave a hopeful bounce. “Daniel, I would love to do you a favor.”

“This weekend? I need to show you something. Off-base, if you have the time, Sam.”

He looked so young, so lost that I couldn’t resist reaching across the table to take his hand. “You call me, anytime. I’ll be there,” I promise.


I fought the urge to ask where we’re going when Daniel picked me up early Saturday morning. I suppressed my curiosity as Daniel drove, with measured care, into a quiet subdivision that looked an awful lot like my own neighborhood. Slowing down, he shot me a quick look. “I just….just tell me if you think this is a good idea or not, okay?” Waiting for my nod, he quickly turned into a driveway and stopped.

I tumbled out of the car when I spotted the real estate sign in the yard. “Daniel, you’re buying a house!”

He was fumbling with his keys. “I might have…may have…already bought it.”

Turning, I surveyed the house. It was small, cottage-like, with flowers and a well-kept lawn. “Please tell me you have the keys?”

Finally, finally a smile. “Come on in.”


An hour later, we were sitting on the highly polished living room floor, devouring a fast-food breakfast. “So,” I asked, “what made you decide to buy a house?”

“I…I’ve been having trouble sleeping. Dr. Fraiser advised me to spend more time out of the mountain but I…”

“Didn’t have anyplace to go, outside the mountain?”

“Yeah. So I thought I should get my own place. I went to see a condo and I…well, I had a panic attack. Scared the realtor to death.”

“Daniel!” I exclaim, horrified.

“I just….I felt all boxed in and I couldn’t breathe anymore. But she opened a window and then I made it downstairs. She asked me if I’d ever thought about a house, which I hadn’t so she showed me a couple. When I saw this one, it seemed to be the right size and it’s not too far from the base. Lori, the real estate agent, said it was kind of small but since it was only me, she thought it might suit me.” He gave me a quick glance. “What do you think?”

I’d walked through the house with him, trying to see it through clinical eyes. “Yes, it’s small but the kitchen and bathroom have been updated so it’d be pretty low maintenance.”

“Did you know you can hire people to mow your grass and water your flowers?” He seemed amazed.

“And clean your house, too.” I patted his knee at his shocked look. “I’ll give you the name of the service that cleans my house.” I searched his face. “Are you sleeping any better?”

He shrugged. “Dr. Fraiser is still signing off on me to work.” Knowing Janet, I’d bet he had to persuade her not to ground him. “I have to get some furniture and stuff before I can move in.”

“Oh, you know I’m up for that.”

“Teal’c’s already offered. But you can come along.”

“Teal’c?” Somehow, I just couldn’t picture it.

“He was actually pretty forceful about going with me.”

One big difference in the new Daniel was his inability to prevent Teal’c – and the Colonel – from totally bulldozing their way over his objections. That, I figured, wouldn’t last long but the two of them were taking outrageous advantage of the circumstance.

“So, what do you think?” Daniel asked, his expression uncertain.

I thought about the house. The exterior was beautiful, precisely landscaped, the perfect facade. The interior so divergent: some rooms ruthlessly remodeled, all their wondrous history stripped away to be replaced by mere function. Other rooms were so empty that sound and light echoed on wall upon wall upon wall. I forced a smile. “I think it’s perfect, Daniel.”
sg_wonderland: (Default)





C is for Circumstance


Summary: Circumstance – events or conditions beyond someone’s control (The Microsoft Encarta Dictionary)




C is for Circumstance )



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July 2017

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