new fic (Supper Conversation) SG-1/Bones #4
Title: A Little Supper Conversation
Fandoms; Stargate SG-1/Bones
Author: karrenia
Claim: stargate, general series
Rating: General Audiences
Words: 1,827
Prompt #58 dinner
21/100
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 belongs to Gekko Film Corp., MGM Productions,
Glasner/Wright, as do all of the characters who appear here or are mentioned; they are not mine.
Bones is the creation of Hart Harrison and its respective producers; again they do not belong to me. The story picks up shortly where the previous story "By Invitation Only" left off.
"A Little Supper Conversation" by Karen
It was hardly the most conducive setting in which to ask, but Temperance Brennan
had been in worse situations. Off hand, she could not quite put her finger on an exact time and place where such an occasion had occurred, but that was beyond the point.
She had lots of questions about why Daniel Jackson had required her services in the official capacity as a forensic anthropologist, but that matter had been dealt with, more or less to everyone's satisfaction.
The vision sequence, or the glimpse of the remote past vouchsafed by the ancient Celtic stones and weapons, was just that, past, as far as she was concerned.
Daniel meanwhilehad been quite fired up and excited about testing the other less deadly artifacts, such as the Cauldron of Plenty, instead of the spear and sword, in different combinations, or in different sequences.
She could well remember that barely-restrained enthusiasm from their days together in graduate school, and while she still fond it quite charming, in its way, an older more sober approach might find it a bit trying at times.
At the moment she sat on the edge of an examination table in the well-appointed if
somewhat Spartan-looking medical facility of the base, waiting for the woman
introduced as Dr. Janet Frasier to finish perusing her charts and the results of her physical.
If they had bothered to ask her, Temperance would have politely but firmly informed everyone concerned, that was fine, perfectly fine. In fact, she felt kind of tingly all over, from the tips of her toes all the way to the roots of her curly auburn hair.
"So, Doc," she finally spoke up when she got tired of waiting. "What's the verdict?"
"You're in stable condition," Dr. Fraiser replied after a moment, as she made eye contact, offering a small smile. "Which comes as something as a surprise considering how long you were, shall we say beyond conscious recall in your fugue state."
"You've got a medical terminology for vision sequences?" she asked, kicking her legs against the exam table. "I get a funny feeling that Daniel's holding back on me about what all goes on around here."
"I'm not surprised," Janet replied with a brisk nod. "It's a requirement for working here.
You were brought in as an emergency specialist in his current project, and I no
doubt that he would have asked you to fill out and sign an non-disclosure form."
"Air force protocol?"
"Yes. It's also base policy, I'm certain you'll understand," Janet replied.
Temperance exchanged a quick glance with the other woman, and noted that Janet was fiddling with the pen attached to the clipboard that held her medical chart.
"Okay, I guess, I can deal with that, but can I ask you about Daniel, I mean, is he always that, well, for lack of a better word, reckless?"
Janet turned and placed the chart back on the desk before she turned around and answered the question. "You knew him, back in the day, right?"
"Right," Temperance nodded.
"Then, you'll understand when I say, 'most of the time, and not as much as when he first began working here." Janet smiled. "He's a difficult one to know."
"Somehow, I believe that." "How long have you known Doctor Jackson?"
"For almost three years, going on four," Janet replied.
Temperance sighed and looked down at her bare feet. "My feet are cold."
“Your clothing and shoes are on that table over there; ready whenever you are."
"Sure, I'll give you a clean bill of health. So, you're free to go."
"Thanks," Temperance said.
"You're welcome." Janet replied as she sat in the chair by her computer terminal,
allowing the other time and privacy to get dressed.
Temperance got up from the exam table and went to gather up her clothes and shoes wondering if the effects of the vision fugue, or whatever it had been had affected her in more ways than just physical, because if what she was contemplating was not as daft a thing as she had ever done, well it came darn close.
She laughed at the image conjured up in her mind, or the potential conversation she would have with her partner, Agent Seeley Booth when she returned to Washington D.C and laughed. "Even if I pared it down to the basic facts, it's still going to be hard to believe."
She finished dressing, and walked across the length of the medical area,
waving goodbye to Dr. Fraiser as she went out the door, where she was met by her
escorts.
Temperance had been told their names, but she couldn't really tell them apart, so it hardly mattered. "Lead on, boys," she smiled.
***
The uniformed airmen that had provided as her escort was surprisingly both brisk and polite, and he knew his way around this confusing maze of corridors branch corridors and rooms, that was the base.
In the back of her mind Temperance realized that if she had been forced to rely on her own resources and the very abbreviated map of the premises she had made when she arrived, she would have soon become very, very lost.
"I've been a long time dry," she said. "Might you boys know where I could get something to eat and drink."
"At the cafeteria, Ma'am," one of the airmen said.
Somehow that sight among all the military-looking officers and airmen, and paraphernalia, brought a little bit of reassurance.
She glanced across the distance of the room, and found Daniel sitting at a table with three people who had been witnesses to her and Daniel's short-lived trip to the past.
Her escorts took up positions at the door, and she went to collect a tray and plastic spoons and forks from their dispenser. She ordered a Caesar Salad and bottle of water.
She went over to where Daniel sat with his teammates, ignoring the occasional sidelong lingering looks she got from various uniformed men seat around them at other tables. It was much easier to deal with facts and data and possible motives and reactions when she was not standing face to face with that person. She squared her shoulders, leveled her tray of Caesar Salad and asked, “Dr. Jackson, may I join you?”
“Temperance,” Daniel swallowed, “Of course,” and with that same awkward charm and old-fashioned gallantry that she remembered from their graduate school days, Daniel stood up, and walked around to the opposite side of the table, he pulled out a chair for her. She thanked him and sat down.
Daniel nodded and went back around to his side of the table, his glasses teetering at an precarious angle off the bridge of his nose. He blushed and straightened them.
Teal’C asked in between bites of his own meal, “What exactly is forensics pathology?”
“It’s an obscure branch of clinical pathology,” she replied. “Working with the FBI is really a side of the kind of work we do at the Jefferson Institute. “
“I see,” Teal’C remarked raising one eyebrow a fraction of an inch.
“Do you,” she laughed. “Well, you’re a quick study, I must say. In any case, as you know Daniel here and I met while in graduate school, he was into linguistics and anthropology, and I was into forensics. In our line of work it helps to specialize.”
“Otherwise you get lumped together for the sake of convenience,” Daniel added.
“The FBI need the services of our team in order to deal with shall we say, the cases that don’t standard parameters. Forensic anthropology is the application of the science of physical anthropology.”
“Which is what, exactly, Jack asked.
“Study of a human skeleton in a legal setting, most often in criminal cases where the victim's remains are more or less skeleton zed.”
“Lovely,” Jack griped.
“A forensic anthropologist can also assist in the identification of deceased individuals whose remains are decomposed, burned, mutilated or otherwise unrecognizable.,” Carter added pretending to not see the irritated expression that crossed Colonel O’Neill’s face.
In the back of her mind Sam thought, bet he think is dry and boring and not very good dinner-time conversation, but Teal’C did bring it up.’
“The adjective "forensic" refers to the application of this subfield of science to a court of law.” Daniel added.
“So that was why Daniel insisted in bringing you in to identify and trace those artifacts.”
“Yes, although I am not completely certain that we experienced while, for lack of a better word, interfacing with them, was real,” Temperance sighed and realized that while she had been talking she had also been idly stirring and shifting the leaves of lettuce of her half-eaten plate of salad. She paused and set the fork back down on the table.
“Sometimes I really do get caught up in my work,” Temperance sighed. “
“Speaking of which,” Carter asked, finishing with her own meal and stacking the trays and napkins into a neat pile. “Has General Hammond decided on what’s to become of the artifices?”
“Not as yet, if what Daniel and Dr. Brennan experienced is any indication, it might be too dangerous to allow them to be displayed for the public in a museum,” replied Jack.
“Do you really believe that we saw was merely a product of sensory overload, or merely an elaborate hallucination?” Daniel asked.
“My own common sense, training, and innate skepticism tells me that it was just an elaborate hallucination,” Temperance replied.
“Yeah, but what does your gut instinct tell you,” Daniel challenged with a friendly smiled and she saw that familiar devil-may-care sparkle in his blue eyes.
“I’m a scientist, we don’t have gut instincts,” she replied mock-severely and the flashed a grin of her own, “At least, not with substantial scientific proof to back up our gut instincts.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Daniel replied.
“It was real,” she sighed. “And having admitted to that, I would have to agree with Colonel O’Neill that it would be too dangerous to expose the general public to whatever forces are at work among those ancient stones.”
“I hate to say this, but I told you so,” Jack smirked.
“Stop it, Jack!” Daniel exclaimed, “This was never a contest.”
“Yeah, I know, Daniel, but allow me a brief moment of glory, okay?”
“Okay, okay.”
“Which leaves with what options,” Carter asked.
“We can leave them locked up where they are for now, pending further study,” Daniel replied, “After that, we can ship to some other place where we store all the unknown artifacts.”
“All the others?” Temperance asked with a slight frown. “Just how many are we talking about here? Thinking it through for a few seconds she muttered and held out her hands in front her, shrugging her shoulders. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
“Agreed,” Jack smiled and reached out his own hand to shake hers. “Are we agreed?”
“Yes, I believe we are,” Temperance replied. “After all, stranger things have happened.”
Fandoms; Stargate SG-1/Bones
Author: karrenia
Claim: stargate, general series
Rating: General Audiences
Words: 1,827
Prompt #58 dinner
21/100
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 belongs to Gekko Film Corp., MGM Productions,
Glasner/Wright, as do all of the characters who appear here or are mentioned; they are not mine.
Bones is the creation of Hart Harrison and its respective producers; again they do not belong to me. The story picks up shortly where the previous story "By Invitation Only" left off.
"A Little Supper Conversation" by Karen
It was hardly the most conducive setting in which to ask, but Temperance Brennan
had been in worse situations. Off hand, she could not quite put her finger on an exact time and place where such an occasion had occurred, but that was beyond the point.
She had lots of questions about why Daniel Jackson had required her services in the official capacity as a forensic anthropologist, but that matter had been dealt with, more or less to everyone's satisfaction.
The vision sequence, or the glimpse of the remote past vouchsafed by the ancient Celtic stones and weapons, was just that, past, as far as she was concerned.
Daniel meanwhilehad been quite fired up and excited about testing the other less deadly artifacts, such as the Cauldron of Plenty, instead of the spear and sword, in different combinations, or in different sequences.
She could well remember that barely-restrained enthusiasm from their days together in graduate school, and while she still fond it quite charming, in its way, an older more sober approach might find it a bit trying at times.
At the moment she sat on the edge of an examination table in the well-appointed if
somewhat Spartan-looking medical facility of the base, waiting for the woman
introduced as Dr. Janet Frasier to finish perusing her charts and the results of her physical.
If they had bothered to ask her, Temperance would have politely but firmly informed everyone concerned, that was fine, perfectly fine. In fact, she felt kind of tingly all over, from the tips of her toes all the way to the roots of her curly auburn hair.
"So, Doc," she finally spoke up when she got tired of waiting. "What's the verdict?"
"You're in stable condition," Dr. Fraiser replied after a moment, as she made eye contact, offering a small smile. "Which comes as something as a surprise considering how long you were, shall we say beyond conscious recall in your fugue state."
"You've got a medical terminology for vision sequences?" she asked, kicking her legs against the exam table. "I get a funny feeling that Daniel's holding back on me about what all goes on around here."
"I'm not surprised," Janet replied with a brisk nod. "It's a requirement for working here.
You were brought in as an emergency specialist in his current project, and I no
doubt that he would have asked you to fill out and sign an non-disclosure form."
"Air force protocol?"
"Yes. It's also base policy, I'm certain you'll understand," Janet replied.
Temperance exchanged a quick glance with the other woman, and noted that Janet was fiddling with the pen attached to the clipboard that held her medical chart.
"Okay, I guess, I can deal with that, but can I ask you about Daniel, I mean, is he always that, well, for lack of a better word, reckless?"
Janet turned and placed the chart back on the desk before she turned around and answered the question. "You knew him, back in the day, right?"
"Right," Temperance nodded.
"Then, you'll understand when I say, 'most of the time, and not as much as when he first began working here." Janet smiled. "He's a difficult one to know."
"Somehow, I believe that." "How long have you known Doctor Jackson?"
"For almost three years, going on four," Janet replied.
Temperance sighed and looked down at her bare feet. "My feet are cold."
“Your clothing and shoes are on that table over there; ready whenever you are."
"Sure, I'll give you a clean bill of health. So, you're free to go."
"Thanks," Temperance said.
"You're welcome." Janet replied as she sat in the chair by her computer terminal,
allowing the other time and privacy to get dressed.
Temperance got up from the exam table and went to gather up her clothes and shoes wondering if the effects of the vision fugue, or whatever it had been had affected her in more ways than just physical, because if what she was contemplating was not as daft a thing as she had ever done, well it came darn close.
She laughed at the image conjured up in her mind, or the potential conversation she would have with her partner, Agent Seeley Booth when she returned to Washington D.C and laughed. "Even if I pared it down to the basic facts, it's still going to be hard to believe."
She finished dressing, and walked across the length of the medical area,
waving goodbye to Dr. Fraiser as she went out the door, where she was met by her
escorts.
Temperance had been told their names, but she couldn't really tell them apart, so it hardly mattered. "Lead on, boys," she smiled.
***
The uniformed airmen that had provided as her escort was surprisingly both brisk and polite, and he knew his way around this confusing maze of corridors branch corridors and rooms, that was the base.
In the back of her mind Temperance realized that if she had been forced to rely on her own resources and the very abbreviated map of the premises she had made when she arrived, she would have soon become very, very lost.
"I've been a long time dry," she said. "Might you boys know where I could get something to eat and drink."
"At the cafeteria, Ma'am," one of the airmen said.
Somehow that sight among all the military-looking officers and airmen, and paraphernalia, brought a little bit of reassurance.
She glanced across the distance of the room, and found Daniel sitting at a table with three people who had been witnesses to her and Daniel's short-lived trip to the past.
Her escorts took up positions at the door, and she went to collect a tray and plastic spoons and forks from their dispenser. She ordered a Caesar Salad and bottle of water.
She went over to where Daniel sat with his teammates, ignoring the occasional sidelong lingering looks she got from various uniformed men seat around them at other tables. It was much easier to deal with facts and data and possible motives and reactions when she was not standing face to face with that person. She squared her shoulders, leveled her tray of Caesar Salad and asked, “Dr. Jackson, may I join you?”
“Temperance,” Daniel swallowed, “Of course,” and with that same awkward charm and old-fashioned gallantry that she remembered from their graduate school days, Daniel stood up, and walked around to the opposite side of the table, he pulled out a chair for her. She thanked him and sat down.
Daniel nodded and went back around to his side of the table, his glasses teetering at an precarious angle off the bridge of his nose. He blushed and straightened them.
Teal’C asked in between bites of his own meal, “What exactly is forensics pathology?”
“It’s an obscure branch of clinical pathology,” she replied. “Working with the FBI is really a side of the kind of work we do at the Jefferson Institute. “
“I see,” Teal’C remarked raising one eyebrow a fraction of an inch.
“Do you,” she laughed. “Well, you’re a quick study, I must say. In any case, as you know Daniel here and I met while in graduate school, he was into linguistics and anthropology, and I was into forensics. In our line of work it helps to specialize.”
“Otherwise you get lumped together for the sake of convenience,” Daniel added.
“The FBI need the services of our team in order to deal with shall we say, the cases that don’t standard parameters. Forensic anthropology is the application of the science of physical anthropology.”
“Which is what, exactly, Jack asked.
“Study of a human skeleton in a legal setting, most often in criminal cases where the victim's remains are more or less skeleton zed.”
“Lovely,” Jack griped.
“A forensic anthropologist can also assist in the identification of deceased individuals whose remains are decomposed, burned, mutilated or otherwise unrecognizable.,” Carter added pretending to not see the irritated expression that crossed Colonel O’Neill’s face.
In the back of her mind Sam thought, bet he think is dry and boring and not very good dinner-time conversation, but Teal’C did bring it up.’
“The adjective "forensic" refers to the application of this subfield of science to a court of law.” Daniel added.
“So that was why Daniel insisted in bringing you in to identify and trace those artifacts.”
“Yes, although I am not completely certain that we experienced while, for lack of a better word, interfacing with them, was real,” Temperance sighed and realized that while she had been talking she had also been idly stirring and shifting the leaves of lettuce of her half-eaten plate of salad. She paused and set the fork back down on the table.
“Sometimes I really do get caught up in my work,” Temperance sighed. “
“Speaking of which,” Carter asked, finishing with her own meal and stacking the trays and napkins into a neat pile. “Has General Hammond decided on what’s to become of the artifices?”
“Not as yet, if what Daniel and Dr. Brennan experienced is any indication, it might be too dangerous to allow them to be displayed for the public in a museum,” replied Jack.
“Do you really believe that we saw was merely a product of sensory overload, or merely an elaborate hallucination?” Daniel asked.
“My own common sense, training, and innate skepticism tells me that it was just an elaborate hallucination,” Temperance replied.
“Yeah, but what does your gut instinct tell you,” Daniel challenged with a friendly smiled and she saw that familiar devil-may-care sparkle in his blue eyes.
“I’m a scientist, we don’t have gut instincts,” she replied mock-severely and the flashed a grin of her own, “At least, not with substantial scientific proof to back up our gut instincts.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Daniel replied.
“It was real,” she sighed. “And having admitted to that, I would have to agree with Colonel O’Neill that it would be too dangerous to expose the general public to whatever forces are at work among those ancient stones.”
“I hate to say this, but I told you so,” Jack smirked.
“Stop it, Jack!” Daniel exclaimed, “This was never a contest.”
“Yeah, I know, Daniel, but allow me a brief moment of glory, okay?”
“Okay, okay.”
“Which leaves with what options,” Carter asked.
“We can leave them locked up where they are for now, pending further study,” Daniel replied, “After that, we can ship to some other place where we store all the unknown artifacts.”
“All the others?” Temperance asked with a slight frown. “Just how many are we talking about here? Thinking it through for a few seconds she muttered and held out her hands in front her, shrugging her shoulders. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
“Agreed,” Jack smiled and reached out his own hand to shake hers. “Are we agreed?”
“Yes, I believe we are,” Temperance replied. “After all, stranger things have happened.”