[Stargate: Fiction] "That Time the Boys Got Turned into Toddlers" [SG-22, G]
Title: Five Times SG-22 Didn’t Get Thrown into a Naquadah Mine #1 (Or, That Time the Boys Got Turned into Toddlers)
Prompt: writerverse Challenge #3, prompt #11 ‘five four times #1’
Word Count: 1,705
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Stargate SG-1 ( SG-22, original characters)
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings: none
Note(s): (a) in case anyone was wondering, this takes place vaguely Season 2 (b) Gryffydd is a Welsh name (the character is American) pronounced Griff-ith.
Summary: “Sir,” said Gryffydd, “this is my team.”
Sequel To: Not Another Naquadah Mine
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_bookclub
That Time the Boys Got Turned into Toddlers
One of these days, Captain Igraine Gryffydd thought to herself, she was going to end a mission without being rendered unconscious. Just once.
For a moment, she contemplated just staying down- the planet they’d been surveying had been declared uninhabited by SG-6, and the silence indicated she really didn’t have a reason to get up- only for the split second before she remembered her teammates.
“SG-22, report!” she snapped, even as she sat up.
That turned out to be a bad idea, and her head throbbed painfully. “Ow!” Gryffydd said. “What the hell did we-?”
She broke off as she finally took in the sight of the ruins they’d been cataloguing- and the three small boys lying on the ground, wearing miniature SGC uniforms.
“Well… crap.”
*
“Incoming wormhole,” reported the sergeant on duty. “Receiving SG-22’s IDC.”
“Open the iris,” Hammond ordered.
The metal barrier slid away, and the event horizon shone brightly blue for a moment before four figures walked calmly down the ‘gate ramp. The first was clearly Captain Gryffydd, with two standard-issue packs over one shoulder and a toddler-sized child on the other hip. Two more kids clung to her free hand and the fabric of her BDU pants.
“Sir,” she said, glancing up at the Control Room with something very much like a wince. “We’ve got a problem.”
Hammond leaned closer to the microphone. “Captain, who are these children? Where is your team?”
“Sir,” she said again. “This is my team.”
*
“She’s right, sir,” said Janet Fraiser, studying the computer print-outs before holding them out to Hammond. “The DNA is a complete match, for all three of them. Lieutenant Tobias, Gunnery Sergeant Vicks and Doctor Flannigan are perfectly healthy three-year-old boys.”
They both looked over to where SG-22 sat on the examination table, Gryffydd in the middle, with mini-Levi in her lap and the other two close at her side as she read them the words on Janet’s medical posters.
“And we have no idea what did this?” Hammond asked.
“Sam and Daniel are going over the photographs and video Gryff brought back from the planet,” she replied. “Dr. Flannigan was recording when the… incident happened, but there seems to be no immediate cause. They weren’t touching anything, no beams of light, that sort of thing.”
“Then there’s nothing to do but wait?”
Janet sighed. “For now? I suppose not.”
“Thank you, doctor,” said Hammond, and crossed to stand beside the examination table. “Captain?”
She straightened as best she could. “Yes, sir?”
“Your head is shiny,” said mini-Tobias.
“Toby!” Gryffydd said, sharply.
“Thorry,” mini-Tobias mumbled.
“It’s all right, son,” Hammond said, smiling. “Dr. Fraiser says your boys are perfectly healthy.”
Gryffydd slid off the table. “Can you three sit here for a minute?” she asked. “I need to talk to the general right over there, where you can see us.”
“Okay, Gryff,” said mini-Levi.
“Sir, what am I going to do with them?” Gryffydd asked, as soon as they were out of earshot. “I can’t keep them on base, and I definitely can’t take them back to The Frat House.”
‘The Frat House’ was their joking name for the two-story house the four members of SG-22 had bought together in the suburbs of Colorado Springs. It was essentially a bachelor pad, if not a little cleaner since they were hardly there, and absolutely not child-proof.
“Then you want to keep them with you?” Hammond asked. “I’m sure we could find someone else-”
“No!” she said, then added, “sir. They’re my team, sir, no matter how old they are.”
The general nodded. “I understand. It’s after lunch hours- I’ll tell the mess to make up some sandwiches. You can keep them there until I’ve made arrangements.”
“Yes, sir. And, sir? Thank you.”
He smiled. “Don’t thank me yet.”
The cook on afternoon duty brought them a plate of sandwiches, and Gryffydd set about pouring cups of juice, cutting off crusts and trying to figure out her mini-team.
Mini-Tobias, it turned out, wanted to be called ‘Wally’, and spoke with a lisp that Gryffydd wouldn’t tell him she found adorable. Mini-Levi talked twice as much as his adult self, which was saying something, and mini-Vicks didn’t talk at all- the most Gryffydd had gotten out of him was “Jason, ma’am,” when she’d asked what he wanted to be called, so soft she almost didn’t hear it.
None of them had asked why they were there, or why Gryffydd was looking after them, or asked for their parents. She didn’t know if that was a side effect of what had happened to them, but she wasn’t about to complain now. If they were lucky, Sam and Daniel would find a way to reverse it, and she’d have her grown-up team back soon.
She hoped.
“Ma’am?” asked the sergeant who usually operated the ‘gate. “General Hammond asked me to tell you that everything’s ready, and you can leave when you’re done eating.”
Gryffydd smiled. “Thank you, sergeant.”
‘Everything’ turned out to be a sedan from the motor pool with three car seats in the back, and an escort to a two-bedroom apartment in a quiet neighborhood.
“You’re all set, Gryff,” said Dave Dixon, who she knew had kids about this age himself and who had been supervising the airmen now packing up their tools. “You’ve got three little beds, one big one, clothes and toys, and enough peanut butter and juice boxes to last for a couple of weeks.”
“Thanks, Dave,” she said, taking the key he handed her.
“Hey,” he said, “Jackson and Carter are the best eggheads we have. They’ll figure this out.”
It was dark by the time she got her three small teammates into the apartment, wrangled into their pajamas and tucked into bed, but Gryffydd didn’t fall asleep for a long time.
She still woke up early the next morning, early enough to have a cup of coffee before she heard little feet in the hall, and receive an e-mail from the SGC that nothing had been found. It was the same every morning after that- another e-mail with no news, then breakfast and (for Gryffydd) enough coffee to fortify her for their trip to the local park.
Surprisingly, being temporary parent to three little boys wasn’t as hard as she’d thought. There were a few mishaps, of course, like the time Levi had run up to her at the playground, wheezing, and she’d called Janet in a panic, only to remember Levi had been asthmatic as a kid and have him breath into a paper bag. Or when she’d had to fix a leaky sink and left her toolbox out, then came back to find Wally and Jason having a sword fight with two of her heavy wrenches.
Gryffydd was starting to think she might not be so bad at this temporary parenting thing when she woke suddenly in the middle of the night, feeling like Miss Clavel from theMadeline picture books. “Something is not right,” she murmured, and headed for the boys’ room.
Levi was in the bed against the far wall, arms tight around his teddy bear. Wally was in the middle, sprawled on his back just like when he was older. And Jason had the bed closest to the door, completely cocooned in the covers. As an adult, she realized, he’d picked the bedroom right at the top of the stairs, and when they bunked somewhere new, he always chose the place nearest the point of entry- his protective streak must have started early.
Gryffydd had almost turned to leave when she realized the lump of blankets was shaking slightly.
She crouched beside the bed and peeled back the covers. “Hey, buddy,” she said. “What’s the matter?”
Jason blinked at her through tear-filled eyes, then launched himself forward into her arms. Gryffydd caught him automatically, tucking his head against her shoulder and heading back out to the living room.
“Hey, hey,” she said, rubbing a hand up and down his small spine. “You just let it out, kiddo.”
“R-real men aren’t s’posed to cry,” he hiccupped, sounding like he was repeated something heard often.
“Of course they are,” she said, soft but firm. “Real men aren’t ashamed of their feelings. You feel sad, Jason, you go ahead and cry.”
Small arms tightened around her neck. “I love you, Gryff,” he said.
“Love you, too, Jase,” she said.
Gryffydd had only just fallen asleep, propped up in her own bed with Jason still in her arms, when her phone rang.
“Wha’zzat?” the boy asked, sleepily.
“Phone,” she said, and answered it, “Gryffydd.”
“Gryff!” said Sam Carter’s voice. “We’ve got it! Get your boys back to the SGC, ASAP!”
In a flurry of sleepy questions and little shoes, Gryffydd managed to get them dressed and back to Cheyenne Mountain. SG-1 was geared up and ready to go with then, though the flagship team stopped at the ‘gate.
“We think it’s best if you take them alone,” Daniel told her.
“See you on the other side,” said Jack.
Gryffydd gave him a mock-salute, and led her team back into the ruins.
*
“Gryff? Gryff, c’mon, wake up!”
She blinked, then focused on the three faces above her. The three adult faces.
“You’re back to normal!” she cried, sitting up.
Tobias pulled her to her feet, then right off them again as he spun her in an enthusiastic circle. “I am so glad I can do this again,” he said, setting her back down. “I’ll go tell the others we’re back.”
Levi kissed her cheek. “You’re the best, Gryff,” he told her, and started after Tobias.
“Sir?” asked Vicks, softly. “I just…”
She smiled. “How much do you remember?”
“Nothing solid,” he admitted. “It’s sort of fuzzy, like my first memories of being three. But I do remember… I mean…”
“Jason Vicks,” she said, “I am so proud of the man you’ve become, and I am even prouder to have you as a member of my team.”
Gryffydd only had a split-second view of his beaming smile before he pulled her into a hug. “I will never forget this, Gryff,” he said, using the nickname he only rarely called her. “Never.”
She hugged him back. “Me, neither.”
THE END
Current Mood:
groggy
Prompt: writerverse Challenge #3, prompt #11 ‘five four times #1’
Word Count: 1,705
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Stargate SG-1 ( SG-22, original characters)
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings: none
Note(s): (a) in case anyone was wondering, this takes place vaguely Season 2 (b) Gryffydd is a Welsh name (the character is American) pronounced Griff-ith.
Summary: “Sir,” said Gryffydd, “this is my team.”
Sequel To: Not Another Naquadah Mine
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_bookclub
That Time the Boys Got Turned into Toddlers
One of these days, Captain Igraine Gryffydd thought to herself, she was going to end a mission without being rendered unconscious. Just once.
For a moment, she contemplated just staying down- the planet they’d been surveying had been declared uninhabited by SG-6, and the silence indicated she really didn’t have a reason to get up- only for the split second before she remembered her teammates.
“SG-22, report!” she snapped, even as she sat up.
That turned out to be a bad idea, and her head throbbed painfully. “Ow!” Gryffydd said. “What the hell did we-?”
She broke off as she finally took in the sight of the ruins they’d been cataloguing- and the three small boys lying on the ground, wearing miniature SGC uniforms.
“Well… crap.”
*
“Incoming wormhole,” reported the sergeant on duty. “Receiving SG-22’s IDC.”
“Open the iris,” Hammond ordered.
The metal barrier slid away, and the event horizon shone brightly blue for a moment before four figures walked calmly down the ‘gate ramp. The first was clearly Captain Gryffydd, with two standard-issue packs over one shoulder and a toddler-sized child on the other hip. Two more kids clung to her free hand and the fabric of her BDU pants.
“Sir,” she said, glancing up at the Control Room with something very much like a wince. “We’ve got a problem.”
Hammond leaned closer to the microphone. “Captain, who are these children? Where is your team?”
“Sir,” she said again. “This is my team.”
*
“She’s right, sir,” said Janet Fraiser, studying the computer print-outs before holding them out to Hammond. “The DNA is a complete match, for all three of them. Lieutenant Tobias, Gunnery Sergeant Vicks and Doctor Flannigan are perfectly healthy three-year-old boys.”
They both looked over to where SG-22 sat on the examination table, Gryffydd in the middle, with mini-Levi in her lap and the other two close at her side as she read them the words on Janet’s medical posters.
“And we have no idea what did this?” Hammond asked.
“Sam and Daniel are going over the photographs and video Gryff brought back from the planet,” she replied. “Dr. Flannigan was recording when the… incident happened, but there seems to be no immediate cause. They weren’t touching anything, no beams of light, that sort of thing.”
“Then there’s nothing to do but wait?”
Janet sighed. “For now? I suppose not.”
“Thank you, doctor,” said Hammond, and crossed to stand beside the examination table. “Captain?”
She straightened as best she could. “Yes, sir?”
“Your head is shiny,” said mini-Tobias.
“Toby!” Gryffydd said, sharply.
“Thorry,” mini-Tobias mumbled.
“It’s all right, son,” Hammond said, smiling. “Dr. Fraiser says your boys are perfectly healthy.”
Gryffydd slid off the table. “Can you three sit here for a minute?” she asked. “I need to talk to the general right over there, where you can see us.”
“Okay, Gryff,” said mini-Levi.
“Sir, what am I going to do with them?” Gryffydd asked, as soon as they were out of earshot. “I can’t keep them on base, and I definitely can’t take them back to The Frat House.”
‘The Frat House’ was their joking name for the two-story house the four members of SG-22 had bought together in the suburbs of Colorado Springs. It was essentially a bachelor pad, if not a little cleaner since they were hardly there, and absolutely not child-proof.
“Then you want to keep them with you?” Hammond asked. “I’m sure we could find someone else-”
“No!” she said, then added, “sir. They’re my team, sir, no matter how old they are.”
The general nodded. “I understand. It’s after lunch hours- I’ll tell the mess to make up some sandwiches. You can keep them there until I’ve made arrangements.”
“Yes, sir. And, sir? Thank you.”
He smiled. “Don’t thank me yet.”
The cook on afternoon duty brought them a plate of sandwiches, and Gryffydd set about pouring cups of juice, cutting off crusts and trying to figure out her mini-team.
Mini-Tobias, it turned out, wanted to be called ‘Wally’, and spoke with a lisp that Gryffydd wouldn’t tell him she found adorable. Mini-Levi talked twice as much as his adult self, which was saying something, and mini-Vicks didn’t talk at all- the most Gryffydd had gotten out of him was “Jason, ma’am,” when she’d asked what he wanted to be called, so soft she almost didn’t hear it.
None of them had asked why they were there, or why Gryffydd was looking after them, or asked for their parents. She didn’t know if that was a side effect of what had happened to them, but she wasn’t about to complain now. If they were lucky, Sam and Daniel would find a way to reverse it, and she’d have her grown-up team back soon.
She hoped.
“Ma’am?” asked the sergeant who usually operated the ‘gate. “General Hammond asked me to tell you that everything’s ready, and you can leave when you’re done eating.”
Gryffydd smiled. “Thank you, sergeant.”
‘Everything’ turned out to be a sedan from the motor pool with three car seats in the back, and an escort to a two-bedroom apartment in a quiet neighborhood.
“You’re all set, Gryff,” said Dave Dixon, who she knew had kids about this age himself and who had been supervising the airmen now packing up their tools. “You’ve got three little beds, one big one, clothes and toys, and enough peanut butter and juice boxes to last for a couple of weeks.”
“Thanks, Dave,” she said, taking the key he handed her.
“Hey,” he said, “Jackson and Carter are the best eggheads we have. They’ll figure this out.”
It was dark by the time she got her three small teammates into the apartment, wrangled into their pajamas and tucked into bed, but Gryffydd didn’t fall asleep for a long time.
She still woke up early the next morning, early enough to have a cup of coffee before she heard little feet in the hall, and receive an e-mail from the SGC that nothing had been found. It was the same every morning after that- another e-mail with no news, then breakfast and (for Gryffydd) enough coffee to fortify her for their trip to the local park.
Surprisingly, being temporary parent to three little boys wasn’t as hard as she’d thought. There were a few mishaps, of course, like the time Levi had run up to her at the playground, wheezing, and she’d called Janet in a panic, only to remember Levi had been asthmatic as a kid and have him breath into a paper bag. Or when she’d had to fix a leaky sink and left her toolbox out, then came back to find Wally and Jason having a sword fight with two of her heavy wrenches.
Gryffydd was starting to think she might not be so bad at this temporary parenting thing when she woke suddenly in the middle of the night, feeling like Miss Clavel from theMadeline picture books. “Something is not right,” she murmured, and headed for the boys’ room.
Levi was in the bed against the far wall, arms tight around his teddy bear. Wally was in the middle, sprawled on his back just like when he was older. And Jason had the bed closest to the door, completely cocooned in the covers. As an adult, she realized, he’d picked the bedroom right at the top of the stairs, and when they bunked somewhere new, he always chose the place nearest the point of entry- his protective streak must have started early.
Gryffydd had almost turned to leave when she realized the lump of blankets was shaking slightly.
She crouched beside the bed and peeled back the covers. “Hey, buddy,” she said. “What’s the matter?”
Jason blinked at her through tear-filled eyes, then launched himself forward into her arms. Gryffydd caught him automatically, tucking his head against her shoulder and heading back out to the living room.
“Hey, hey,” she said, rubbing a hand up and down his small spine. “You just let it out, kiddo.”
“R-real men aren’t s’posed to cry,” he hiccupped, sounding like he was repeated something heard often.
“Of course they are,” she said, soft but firm. “Real men aren’t ashamed of their feelings. You feel sad, Jason, you go ahead and cry.”
Small arms tightened around her neck. “I love you, Gryff,” he said.
“Love you, too, Jase,” she said.
Gryffydd had only just fallen asleep, propped up in her own bed with Jason still in her arms, when her phone rang.
“Wha’zzat?” the boy asked, sleepily.
“Phone,” she said, and answered it, “Gryffydd.”
“Gryff!” said Sam Carter’s voice. “We’ve got it! Get your boys back to the SGC, ASAP!”
In a flurry of sleepy questions and little shoes, Gryffydd managed to get them dressed and back to Cheyenne Mountain. SG-1 was geared up and ready to go with then, though the flagship team stopped at the ‘gate.
“We think it’s best if you take them alone,” Daniel told her.
“See you on the other side,” said Jack.
Gryffydd gave him a mock-salute, and led her team back into the ruins.
*
“Gryff? Gryff, c’mon, wake up!”
She blinked, then focused on the three faces above her. The three adult faces.
“You’re back to normal!” she cried, sitting up.
Tobias pulled her to her feet, then right off them again as he spun her in an enthusiastic circle. “I am so glad I can do this again,” he said, setting her back down. “I’ll go tell the others we’re back.”
Levi kissed her cheek. “You’re the best, Gryff,” he told her, and started after Tobias.
“Sir?” asked Vicks, softly. “I just…”
She smiled. “How much do you remember?”
“Nothing solid,” he admitted. “It’s sort of fuzzy, like my first memories of being three. But I do remember… I mean…”
“Jason Vicks,” she said, “I am so proud of the man you’ve become, and I am even prouder to have you as a member of my team.”
Gryffydd only had a split-second view of his beaming smile before he pulled her into a hug. “I will never forget this, Gryff,” he said, using the nickname he only rarely called her. “Never.”
She hugged him back. “Me, neither.”
THE END
Current Mood:
groggy