Title: Taking Turns
Author: Flatkatsi
Email: flatkatsi@optusnet.com.au
Status: Complete
Category: Humor
Pairings: None
Spoilers: None
Season: Pre season six
Rating: G
Content Warnings: Total and complete silliness.
File Size: 29kb
Archive: Jackfic, Incoming Wormhole
Summary: Jack’s ‘kids’ argue.
Disclaimer: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.
Author’s Note: My son gave me the idea for this one, but I don’t think he knew where it would lead. Thanks to Yllek for the beta. Blame Nutty for leaving me to my own devices. Remember – it is just a bit of silliness to fill in the hole where a real fic refuses to take up residence.
“It was my turn, Daniel Jackson.” Teal’c glared at his companion, causing the archaeologist to almost cringe, before straightening up and glaring back defiantly.
“It was not. You were first last time.”
“You are incorrect.”
“Am not.”
“I do not agree. You are wrong.”
“Not.”
“You pushed me.”
“Didn’t.”
“You did.”
The developing argument was interrupted by the irritated voice of the two men’s commander.
“Oh for crying out loud! I don’t know who’s worse – you two idiots or Carter.” Colonel O’Neill’s furious tone cut through their bickering. “Are either of you hurt? I mean anything except your pride?”
Teal’c rose gracefully from the ground in front of the gate, pushing off the soft body of his team mate, causing Daniel to give a strangled gasp.
“I am fine, O’Neill. Daniel Jackson broke my fall.”
“And I’m fine too, thank you for asking, Jack.” Daniel finally managed to rise, brushing down his BDUs while sending scalding looks towards the Jaffa. He turned to pick up his pack, muttering as he did so, “It was so my turn.”
“What was that, Daniel?”
“Nothing Jack. Nothing.”
“Good.” The Colonel’s voice was icy. “Let’s head out then. The ruins are that way, we need to hurry if we are going to reach them before dark.” He turned and started striding out, obviously expecting his team to follow.
“It was Teal’c’s turn, Daniel.” The soft comment was barely heard above the stamp of angry feet, but it carried to the head of the line.
“What was that, Carter?”
Major Carter’s face paled slightly, but she stood and faced her commanding officer with courage. “It was Teal’c’s turn, sir. Daniel was first through the gate last time.”
“Was not.” This wasn’t a mutter.
“You were, and I haven’t had my turn for ages. You always push in front.”
“Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Attention!” The loud command halted all discussion and the three protagonists straightened instinctively, Major Carter to parade ground precision. They looked guiltily into the thunderous countenance of Colonel O’Neill. He stood, his feet spread, his stance relaxed. Only the curling and uncurling of his hand around his P90 showed his agitation.
When he spoke, his tone was firm and controlled.
“I will not have this ridiculous discussion every time we walk through the gate. It was bad enough when you couldn’t agree on T-shirt colour. We sorted that, and look what happened – you argue about something else. Do you have any idea how ridiculous this is?” He paused. “Well, do you?”
The others dropped their eyes, but the silence stretched on. It was obvious that the Colonel wanted an answer.
“Yes, sir.”
“Indeed, O’Neill.”
“Sorry, Jack.”
“Good. Now let’s get a move on and try to act like professionals.”
There was quiet for several miles, the monotonous landscape passing almost unnoticed as they walked.
“We could go through together, sir.” Carter’s agile brain had finally come up with a solution to the problem.
“Yeah – that would work – not, Major. I can just imagine the complaints about who should be on the end of the line and who should be in the middle.” O’Neill’s voice was scathing. “You lot are worse than children. At least if you were kids I could smack you and send you to bed.”
“You can smack me any time, Colonel.” Carter’s tone was low.
“Indeed, O’Neill.”
The Colonel counted slowly and very loudly to ten with his eyes shut, almost as if he was hoping that when he opened them, the others would have been miraculously spirited away.
Nope – they were still there.
Then hope flared into life in his eyes.
“I’ve got it.”
“What, Jack?” Daniel’s voice was a little worried.
“I’ll do a chart. You can each have a different coloured star and I’ll mark the chart to show who went through first.” O’Neill beamed a wide smile. “I’ll put it up in the locker room.”
“In the locker room, sir? Where all the other teams can see it?”
“You have a problem with that, Carter?”
“There may not be room, sir. SG-2 has their “Whose turn it is to buy the pizzas” chart up there already.”
“Not to mention SG-9’s “I get to speak to the aliens first” chart, O’Neill.”
“I want a gold star.”
“Why should you have a gold star, Daniel Jackson? The symbol I bear should be reflected in the colour of my star. It is only right.”
“But gold is my favourite colour too. It echoes the colour of my hair.”
“It does not, Major Carter. Your hair is straw colour.”
“That is enough!” Colonel O’Neill’s eyes were dark – almost black with fury. “Do I have to take this to the General?”
This time the answers were all that he could have wished for. SG-1 moved forward, their mission once again their main concern.
One last comment was whispered into the silence.
Colonel O’Neill chose to ignore it.
“Can you smack me too, Jack?”