100_situations fic
Title: Threats
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Daniel Jackson
Prompt: #1, "Finger"
Word Count: 202
Rating: PG
Summary: Civilians are stronger than you'd think.
Author's Notes: I originally intended to have the NID capture him, but it ended up being a conspiracy whackjob with a lot of conviction instead. Oh well.
It was hard to maintain a brave face when he pulled out the knife. "Why are you doing this?" Daniel asked again, feeling fresh blood tricking down his face and chest. "I told you already, I don't know anything."
The man narrowed his eyes. "I doubt that very much, Doctor Jackson." He waved the knife under Daniel's nose. "I can see that conventional roughing-up isn't going to work here. Do I have to resort to cutting off limbs before you'll talk?"
"I'm an archaeologist," Daniel repeated stubbornly. "I'm a linguist too. Sometimes I translate things for the government. I'm not a soldier; I don't have access to security codes." It was only a half-truth.
The blade came to rest against his immobile hand, caressing the restraints that kept his fingers splayed. "I can start cutting off fingers," the man offered. "Which one would you like to lose first?" The tip hovered over his index finger. "How about this one?"
There was a loud bang, and the man's eyes widened in surprise before he slumped at Daniel's feet, blood welling up from a hole in his chest. "How about none of them, you son of a bitch!" Jack snarled, and holstered his gun.
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Daniel Jackson
Prompt: #1, "Finger"
Word Count: 202
Rating: PG
Summary: Civilians are stronger than you'd think.
Author's Notes: I originally intended to have the NID capture him, but it ended up being a conspiracy whackjob with a lot of conviction instead. Oh well.
It was hard to maintain a brave face when he pulled out the knife. "Why are you doing this?" Daniel asked again, feeling fresh blood tricking down his face and chest. "I told you already, I don't know anything."
The man narrowed his eyes. "I doubt that very much, Doctor Jackson." He waved the knife under Daniel's nose. "I can see that conventional roughing-up isn't going to work here. Do I have to resort to cutting off limbs before you'll talk?"
"I'm an archaeologist," Daniel repeated stubbornly. "I'm a linguist too. Sometimes I translate things for the government. I'm not a soldier; I don't have access to security codes." It was only a half-truth.
The blade came to rest against his immobile hand, caressing the restraints that kept his fingers splayed. "I can start cutting off fingers," the man offered. "Which one would you like to lose first?" The tip hovered over his index finger. "How about this one?"
There was a loud bang, and the man's eyes widened in surprise before he slumped at Daniel's feet, blood welling up from a hole in his chest. "How about none of them, you son of a bitch!" Jack snarled, and holstered his gun.