[NCIS/Stargate: Drabble] "Hell of a Thing" [G]
Title: Hell of a Thing
Author: Ami Ven
Word Count: 300
Prompt: (very, very, very late) birthday present for sharp2799
Fandom: Stargate SG-1/NCIS
Character(s): Jack O’Neill, Jethro Gibbs
Setting: part of my Highly Classified Verse
Summary: “How’s the fishing?”
Hell of a Thing
Jack saw a second pickup truck park beside his own, but didn’t get up, even when he felt someone settle onto the grassy riverbank beside him.
“How’s the fishing?” asked Gibbs.
“Haven’t caught a thing,” Jack replied cheerfully, and cast his line again.
“Hmm,” said Gibbs, setting up his own fishing rod.
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the river. Each reeled in and re-cast their line a few more times, without a single bite.
Then Jack said, “So… aliens.”
“Hell of a thing,” said Gibbs. “I guess you got copies of our reports?”
“Yep. Good work, your whole team. It’ll be nice, having some actual trained investigators in the know. SG-1 is good, but…”
“You expect this kind of thing to keep happening?”
Jack sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. If it was up to me, I’d keep every bit of alien tech locked up tight, but some money-grubbers in Congress figured that making a profit is more important than safety.”
“And that would be why we’re meeting out in the woods instead of either of our offices,” Gibbs observed.
“That, and the fishing’s good here.”
“I don’t play games, O’Neill. My team, we find the truth, and I don’t give a damn how that makes you or your people look.”
Jack cast his line again. “Good.”
“Good?”
“Look, Gibbs, we didn’t have to read your team into the program, even after your boys found those Ancient doodads. We could have confiscated everything, kept you in the dark. But your team has a reputation for solving tough cases - and weird ones - and not caring how high and mighty your suspects are.”
“Even Air Force generals,” said Gibbs.
Jack grinned. “Exactly.”
There was another beat of silence.
“So… aliens,” said Gibbs.
“Hell of a thing,” Jack agreed.
THE END
Current Mood:
mellow
Author: Ami Ven
Word Count: 300
Prompt: (very, very, very late) birthday present for sharp2799
Fandom: Stargate SG-1/NCIS
Character(s): Jack O’Neill, Jethro Gibbs
Setting: part of my Highly Classified Verse
Summary: “How’s the fishing?”
Hell of a Thing
Jack saw a second pickup truck park beside his own, but didn’t get up, even when he felt someone settle onto the grassy riverbank beside him.
“How’s the fishing?” asked Gibbs.
“Haven’t caught a thing,” Jack replied cheerfully, and cast his line again.
“Hmm,” said Gibbs, setting up his own fishing rod.
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the river. Each reeled in and re-cast their line a few more times, without a single bite.
Then Jack said, “So… aliens.”
“Hell of a thing,” said Gibbs. “I guess you got copies of our reports?”
“Yep. Good work, your whole team. It’ll be nice, having some actual trained investigators in the know. SG-1 is good, but…”
“You expect this kind of thing to keep happening?”
Jack sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. If it was up to me, I’d keep every bit of alien tech locked up tight, but some money-grubbers in Congress figured that making a profit is more important than safety.”
“And that would be why we’re meeting out in the woods instead of either of our offices,” Gibbs observed.
“That, and the fishing’s good here.”
“I don’t play games, O’Neill. My team, we find the truth, and I don’t give a damn how that makes you or your people look.”
Jack cast his line again. “Good.”
“Good?”
“Look, Gibbs, we didn’t have to read your team into the program, even after your boys found those Ancient doodads. We could have confiscated everything, kept you in the dark. But your team has a reputation for solving tough cases - and weird ones - and not caring how high and mighty your suspects are.”
“Even Air Force generals,” said Gibbs.
Jack grinned. “Exactly.”
There was another beat of silence.
“So… aliens,” said Gibbs.
“Hell of a thing,” Jack agreed.
THE END
Current Mood:
mellow