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D is for Don't Look Back
Mar. 2nd, 2015 08:28 amD 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!”
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!”
