100_situations ficlet, at last
Title: Obvious
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Daniel Jackson
Table: Three
Prompt: #3, "Intelligence"
Word Count: 227
Rating: R for language
Summary: Daniel's pissed and Jack isn't helping.
Author's Notes: Set during "The Light."
Dammit, I fucking hate Goa'uld technology. Why can't it just work right for once in my life? Shit.
I barely resist the urge to slam the stupid thing into my desk - the only thing that holds me back is the knowledge that if I do, I may never get it working again. It worked just fine back on P4X-347, why won't it even fucking light up now?
"What is wrong with this thing?!" I roar out loud, and two heads turn to eye me warily. Okay, I'm calm. I'm calm. I'm thinking of beating someone senseless with this fucking hunk of junk, but I'm calm. "This thing isn't working," I say as evenly as I can. Well, duh, genius. They can see that.
"Did you check the batteries?" Jack asks, and I want to just grab him by the collar and slap that near-invisible smirk off his face. How dare he insult my intelligence? As if I wouldn't check something so obvious. Just because you're a fucking moron doesn't mean the rest of us are, Colonel O'Neill sir.
I've got to get out of here, because otherwise I may just kill someone. "I'm gonna talk to Hammond," I growl, and flee my office. Jack yells after me, but I swear, if he tries to stop me one more time, I won't be held accountable for my actions.
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Daniel Jackson
Table: Three
Prompt: #3, "Intelligence"
Word Count: 227
Rating: R for language
Summary: Daniel's pissed and Jack isn't helping.
Author's Notes: Set during "The Light."
Dammit, I fucking hate Goa'uld technology. Why can't it just work right for once in my life? Shit.
I barely resist the urge to slam the stupid thing into my desk - the only thing that holds me back is the knowledge that if I do, I may never get it working again. It worked just fine back on P4X-347, why won't it even fucking light up now?
"What is wrong with this thing?!" I roar out loud, and two heads turn to eye me warily. Okay, I'm calm. I'm calm. I'm thinking of beating someone senseless with this fucking hunk of junk, but I'm calm. "This thing isn't working," I say as evenly as I can. Well, duh, genius. They can see that.
"Did you check the batteries?" Jack asks, and I want to just grab him by the collar and slap that near-invisible smirk off his face. How dare he insult my intelligence? As if I wouldn't check something so obvious. Just because you're a fucking moron doesn't mean the rest of us are, Colonel O'Neill sir.
I've got to get out of here, because otherwise I may just kill someone. "I'm gonna talk to Hammond," I growl, and flee my office. Jack yells after me, but I swear, if he tries to stop me one more time, I won't be held accountable for my actions.