Yesterday I watched the SG-1 ep 'Moebius' again (ficlet)
Part 1, anyway. And it cracked me up as much as it did the first time. I love alt-Daniel and alt-Sam and their geeky hot-librarian ways. And part of me got to wondering what that lunch conversation between Sam and McKay was like.
Oh Boy
SG-1 snippet
Sam, McKay
Spoilers: Moebius
Sam is tired of the Cheyenne Mountain food already, and she can't imagine an alternate version of herself eating here everyday. Maybe alternate Cheyenne Mountain has good cooks.
McKay doesn't seem to mind the food at all. He's shoveling it into his mouth, alternately smiling and talking. "So," he says, and Sam gets a view of food that she didn't need, "astrophysics, eh? Not bad, not bad. It's a shame we didn't have women like you in my department, because, let me just say, you really are hot in that librarian-with-a-naughty-secret kind of way, you know --"
"Oh boy," Sam mutters to herself, looking down at her grayish chicken. She'd hoped McKay might give her more information about the situation, but instead, his chatter is grating.
"-- though it's too bad your hair isn't longer, I can just imagine you pulling it out of a bun, shaking it around a little." He shakes his head to illustrate, smiling in a way Sam can only imagine is supposed to be charming.
"I've got a lot of very important work to do here - being head scientist, you understand - but maybe later we can retire to my, ah, abode? Have a little tete-a-tete? That's French, by the way, I speak it because I'm Canadian." He winks at her. "Man of the world, you might say," he adds, leaning back, stroking his chest smugly.
She chokes slightly.
"You okay?" he asks.
She nods slowly. "Yeah, I just feel a little --" like I might throw up at your pathetic ego, she wants to say. But she's had a lifetime of tamping down on those impulses. She knows how to keep quiet, even when she wants to scream. Now - in a military base, surrounded by power - isn't the time to change. She bites her lip.
McKay doesn't seem to notice, still talking about how important he is, how brilliant his work is. Why does she always seem to be surrounded by self-important men? "About finding the Stargate, I was thinking -"
"Why don't you just leave that to the experts?" He pats her hand, almost stroking, and she pulls it back, fast, disguising the movement by adjusting her glasses.
How anyone can be an expert on something they've never seen, she has no idea.
McKay's already changed the subject again.
"-- you, my neighbour - she's really very hot, you know - maybe we could make a night of it."
"Shut up," she says quietly, and then quickly stuffs some chicken into her mouth, chewing hard.
"What?" McKay is paying attention now, looking agitated.
Darn. "I'm er, really feeling shut up down here." She waves her hand around. "It's stuffy. I need some air."
His eyes narrow, but she smiles at him, and he shakes his head, smiles back. "That's the military for you. Stuffy. You should --"
"-- get some air," she finishes, standing.
"I'll escort you --"
"No," she says. "Stay. I'll be back. Finish your pie."
"Hmmm, pie. Very important, fuel for the brain. You know, once I lived for a week only eating different kinds of pie. It was quite the --"
Sam moves as quickly as she possibly can in her skirt, and doesn't look back when he calls her name.
Oh Boy
SG-1 snippet
Sam, McKay
Spoilers: Moebius
Sam is tired of the Cheyenne Mountain food already, and she can't imagine an alternate version of herself eating here everyday. Maybe alternate Cheyenne Mountain has good cooks.
McKay doesn't seem to mind the food at all. He's shoveling it into his mouth, alternately smiling and talking. "So," he says, and Sam gets a view of food that she didn't need, "astrophysics, eh? Not bad, not bad. It's a shame we didn't have women like you in my department, because, let me just say, you really are hot in that librarian-with-a-naughty-secret kind of way, you know --"
"Oh boy," Sam mutters to herself, looking down at her grayish chicken. She'd hoped McKay might give her more information about the situation, but instead, his chatter is grating.
"-- though it's too bad your hair isn't longer, I can just imagine you pulling it out of a bun, shaking it around a little." He shakes his head to illustrate, smiling in a way Sam can only imagine is supposed to be charming.
"I've got a lot of very important work to do here - being head scientist, you understand - but maybe later we can retire to my, ah, abode? Have a little tete-a-tete? That's French, by the way, I speak it because I'm Canadian." He winks at her. "Man of the world, you might say," he adds, leaning back, stroking his chest smugly.
She chokes slightly.
"You okay?" he asks.
She nods slowly. "Yeah, I just feel a little --" like I might throw up at your pathetic ego, she wants to say. But she's had a lifetime of tamping down on those impulses. She knows how to keep quiet, even when she wants to scream. Now - in a military base, surrounded by power - isn't the time to change. She bites her lip.
McKay doesn't seem to notice, still talking about how important he is, how brilliant his work is. Why does she always seem to be surrounded by self-important men? "About finding the Stargate, I was thinking -"
"Why don't you just leave that to the experts?" He pats her hand, almost stroking, and she pulls it back, fast, disguising the movement by adjusting her glasses.
How anyone can be an expert on something they've never seen, she has no idea.
McKay's already changed the subject again.
"-- you, my neighbour - she's really very hot, you know - maybe we could make a night of it."
"Shut up," she says quietly, and then quickly stuffs some chicken into her mouth, chewing hard.
"What?" McKay is paying attention now, looking agitated.
Darn. "I'm er, really feeling shut up down here." She waves her hand around. "It's stuffy. I need some air."
His eyes narrow, but she smiles at him, and he shakes his head, smiles back. "That's the military for you. Stuffy. You should --"
"-- get some air," she finishes, standing.
"I'll escort you --"
"No," she says. "Stay. I'll be back. Finish your pie."
"Hmmm, pie. Very important, fuel for the brain. You know, once I lived for a week only eating different kinds of pie. It was quite the --"
Sam moves as quickly as she possibly can in her skirt, and doesn't look back when he calls her name.