fic: last men standing (stargate sg1)
of drabbles and ficlets challenge response
STATUS: Complete
SUMMARY: "Is this what it's supposed to feel like?" & "What is that thing on your head?"
RATING: PG
CLASSIFICATIONS: Jack, Jonas
ARCHIVING: Do not archive. Please ask.
FOR: yamadara & nel_ani
NOTES: Another combined response. Hope that's ok. *smoochies* to suzvoy for the kick-ass beta.
WORDS: 379
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Don't sue.
Copyright anr; September 2004.
* * * * *
Last Men Standing By anr
* * * * *
The hat bothers him.
Standing in the conference room, staring down at the Stargate, he watches Jonas approach from his peripheral vision. Watches the younger man's reflection in the glass window breach the doorway, pass the table, and halt somewhere behind his left shoulder.
He doesn't say hello. Or good to see you again. Or welcome back. He just stares at the stupid half-beret half-cap but-really-neither thing sitting on the top of Jonas' head. At the felt? leather? suede? thing that almost suits him in a 'wouldn't even suit a mannequin' kind of way.
And what he wants to say is, "what is that thing on your head?" because that's the sort of superfluous remark people expect from him. Or maybe, "get rid of it," because didn't anyone ever tell Jonas it's bad etiquette to wear a hat inside, or to a funeral...? Wants to say it and can't, the words sticking in his throat as he frowns and looks away.
Jonas takes a step closer, and then another, and then doesn't stop until they're standing side by side in front of the window. Parade rest with their hands at their backs, elbows loose and feet at shoulder width.
Old and new and the only two left. He thinks that'll probably mean something one day.
"I never thought..." Jonas stops and swallows hard. "Is this what it's supposed to feel like?" he asks eventually, and Jack thinks he's never heard the man's voice so small before. It's unsettling (thirteen down, ten letters, 'to make uneasy', and he'd answered 'T in a bikini' on last week's crossword just to see Carter's expression) and, despite decades of military training, he has to stop himself from flinching because this week's crossword will get no reaction and...
"No," he says. Then, "yes." He wants to add, "I don't know," but redundancy was the old him and he's still trying to work out who this new, post-SG1 him is now that Carter and Daniel and Teal'c are all...
"Jonas," he whispers and, while it is most definitely not a plea of any kind, his voice breaks anyway.
Jonas takes off his hat.
* * * * *
The End.
SEQUEL: Holding Pattern
Feedback: Always appreciated. *g*
STATUS: Complete
SUMMARY: "Is this what it's supposed to feel like?" & "What is that thing on your head?"
RATING: PG
CLASSIFICATIONS: Jack, Jonas
ARCHIVING: Do not archive. Please ask.
FOR: yamadara & nel_ani
NOTES: Another combined response. Hope that's ok. *smoochies* to suzvoy for the kick-ass beta.
WORDS: 379
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Don't sue.
Copyright anr; September 2004.
* * * * *
Last Men Standing By anr
* * * * *
The hat bothers him.
Standing in the conference room, staring down at the Stargate, he watches Jonas approach from his peripheral vision. Watches the younger man's reflection in the glass window breach the doorway, pass the table, and halt somewhere behind his left shoulder.
He doesn't say hello. Or good to see you again. Or welcome back. He just stares at the stupid half-beret half-cap but-really-neither thing sitting on the top of Jonas' head. At the felt? leather? suede? thing that almost suits him in a 'wouldn't even suit a mannequin' kind of way.
And what he wants to say is, "what is that thing on your head?" because that's the sort of superfluous remark people expect from him. Or maybe, "get rid of it," because didn't anyone ever tell Jonas it's bad etiquette to wear a hat inside, or to a funeral...? Wants to say it and can't, the words sticking in his throat as he frowns and looks away.
Jonas takes a step closer, and then another, and then doesn't stop until they're standing side by side in front of the window. Parade rest with their hands at their backs, elbows loose and feet at shoulder width.
Old and new and the only two left. He thinks that'll probably mean something one day.
"I never thought..." Jonas stops and swallows hard. "Is this what it's supposed to feel like?" he asks eventually, and Jack thinks he's never heard the man's voice so small before. It's unsettling (thirteen down, ten letters, 'to make uneasy', and he'd answered 'T in a bikini' on last week's crossword just to see Carter's expression) and, despite decades of military training, he has to stop himself from flinching because this week's crossword will get no reaction and...
"No," he says. Then, "yes." He wants to add, "I don't know," but redundancy was the old him and he's still trying to work out who this new, post-SG1 him is now that Carter and Daniel and Teal'c are all...
"Jonas," he whispers and, while it is most definitely not a plea of any kind, his voice breaks anyway.
Jonas takes off his hat.
* * * * *
The End.
SEQUEL: Holding Pattern
Feedback: Always appreciated. *g*