"Phil, engrave that on something."
I don't like the remixed version of the Sealab 2021 theme song. The old one was so peppy. This is like the emo version. Lame.
I'm nearly done with my Twelfth Night paper. This is good. However, Jack & Daniel won't shut up, so I've spent the last 40 minutes writing about them instead of Viola and Orsino. This is bad, productivity-wise, but good in a 'get these chatty bastards out of my brain' way.
Cough on People
In which Jack is annoying and not terribly concerned with hygeine. Daniel, for some reason, finds this appealing.
"Jack."
"Yes, Daniel?"
"Do you mind?"
Jack thought back over his actions in the last couple of minutes, searching for anything so annoying that Daniel would feel the need to comment on it. He'd yawned loudly, broken two of Daniel's pencils, dropped a book on the floor (not even getting a jump out of Daniel), and moved several of Daniel's precious artifacts/paperweights out of alignment. Not bad for a day's work, but nothing Daniel hadn't easily overlooked before.
Jack gave up and asked. "Do I mind what?"
"You just coughed on me. I'd prefer that you not do so again," Daniel explained slowly, not taking his eyes off the books on the desk in front of him.
"I did not cough on you!" Jack cried indignantly.
"Jack," Daniel deigned to glance up at him, though his eyes kept shifting back to his book intermittently, "I think I can tell when I've been coughed on."
Jack made a tsk tsk noise. "Ending a sentence with a preposition. Honestly, Daniel."
Daniel cast him a withering look. Jack shrugged. "Whatever. Maybe somebody else coughed on you. I know I didn't."
"You're the only other person here," Daniel pointed out, setting down his pen and turning in his chair to face Jack full on.
"Look, maybe I cleared my throat a little, but I'm all the way over here," Jack waved a hand through the air between his chair and Daniel's.
"Okay, so the next time you need to clear your throat," Daniel pronounced 'clear your throat' with quote marks around it, "Cover your mouth or something. Didn't your mother teach you it's not polite to cough on people?"
"Don't you bring my mother into this!" Jack waved an affronted finger at Daniel.
Daniel, who had half-turned back to his book, looked up at Jack and blinked.
"Have you gone insane?"
"Well, if anything was going to drive me insane, it'd probably be you," Jack huffed. "I mean, sitting here for hours in silence, paying no attention to me at all and then suddenly out of nowhere bad-mouthing my mother..."
"Jack," Daniel began, speaking in a slow, calming tone, like he was talking Jack down from the ledge of craziness back into the office building of rational thought, "A: You've been here for a total of twenty minutes, ten of which were spent raiding my refrigerator; B: I've learned better than to encourage you by speaking to you or otherwise acknowledging your existence, and C... I've... I've never even met your mother." Daniel frowned. "My point is... I know what it feels like when someone coughs on me!"
Jack looked at Daniel speculatively. "Oh really?"
Daniel straightened, moving as far from Jack as he could without scooting his chair around the desk. Jack leaned in, following Daniel's movement. He turned his head and coughed demurely into his palm, meeting Daniel's eyes pointedly over his splayed fingers.
"Bastard," Daniel muttered with conviction. Jack smiled and dropped his hand. He scooted his chair closer, blatantly invading Daniel's space. He looked at Daniel and tried very, very hard not to smirk. Daniel tensed, but did not back away.
Jack cleared his throat, keeping his lips clearly, firmly shut. Daniel rolled his eyes, shook his head, and relaxed his shoulders. Jack held up a hand, the international sign for 'but wait, there's more!' Daniel obeyed.
Jack leaned in close, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. He could feel Daniel's breath on his cheek, the corner of his mouth. He watched Daniel's eyes widen, then fall half-shut. Jack felt a smile twitch across his mouth as he abruptly changed course and coughed, not at all demurely, on Daniel's neck.
Daniel lurched back in his seat, nearly toppling over. He grabbed on to the edge of his desk and stopped his descent, though his reprieve came at the expense of a sheaf of papers. He looked up from the paper-littered floor to stare at Jack in disbelief, not to mention several other words starting with dis-: disgust, disapproval, disinterest...
Well, no, that wasn't entirely accurate. He did look a bit disgusted as he wiped a hand over his neck and down his shirtfront, but his eyes were shining.
"You know, it occurs to me... I've almost certainly got any germs you're carrying at this point," he said quietly, deliberately leaning in close to Jack. "If you're really trying to pass something on, Jack, there's a better way to go about it."
"Oh?" Jack breathed, "Is there?"
Daniel hummed his affirmative against Jack's lips. He skated a hand up Jack's arm to his neck, then his jaw, tilting his head for a better angle. Jack allowed himself to be guided, opening up to Daniel and feeling only slightly guilty. He'd originally come over looking for a little entertainment, and maybe some winter flu sympathy Frasier and the nurses on base hadn't been at all interested in providing. Instead he had an archaeologist sucking his tongue and, in a day or two, he'd have a Daniel of his very own to chide about the impoliteness of coughing on people. Jack grinned against Daniel's mouth. Things were looking better and better.
Meh. I'll print my paper in the morning. L's asleep anyway, and her printer's the only functioning one in the house. Curse you, Xerox Workcentre 5200! Curse you and all your non-functioning technological brethren!
I'm nearly done with my Twelfth Night paper. This is good. However, Jack & Daniel won't shut up, so I've spent the last 40 minutes writing about them instead of Viola and Orsino. This is bad, productivity-wise, but good in a 'get these chatty bastards out of my brain' way.
Cough on People
In which Jack is annoying and not terribly concerned with hygeine. Daniel, for some reason, finds this appealing.
"Jack."
"Yes, Daniel?"
"Do you mind?"
Jack thought back over his actions in the last couple of minutes, searching for anything so annoying that Daniel would feel the need to comment on it. He'd yawned loudly, broken two of Daniel's pencils, dropped a book on the floor (not even getting a jump out of Daniel), and moved several of Daniel's precious artifacts/paperweights out of alignment. Not bad for a day's work, but nothing Daniel hadn't easily overlooked before.
Jack gave up and asked. "Do I mind what?"
"You just coughed on me. I'd prefer that you not do so again," Daniel explained slowly, not taking his eyes off the books on the desk in front of him.
"I did not cough on you!" Jack cried indignantly.
"Jack," Daniel deigned to glance up at him, though his eyes kept shifting back to his book intermittently, "I think I can tell when I've been coughed on."
Jack made a tsk tsk noise. "Ending a sentence with a preposition. Honestly, Daniel."
Daniel cast him a withering look. Jack shrugged. "Whatever. Maybe somebody else coughed on you. I know I didn't."
"You're the only other person here," Daniel pointed out, setting down his pen and turning in his chair to face Jack full on.
"Look, maybe I cleared my throat a little, but I'm all the way over here," Jack waved a hand through the air between his chair and Daniel's.
"Okay, so the next time you need to clear your throat," Daniel pronounced 'clear your throat' with quote marks around it, "Cover your mouth or something. Didn't your mother teach you it's not polite to cough on people?"
"Don't you bring my mother into this!" Jack waved an affronted finger at Daniel.
Daniel, who had half-turned back to his book, looked up at Jack and blinked.
"Have you gone insane?"
"Well, if anything was going to drive me insane, it'd probably be you," Jack huffed. "I mean, sitting here for hours in silence, paying no attention to me at all and then suddenly out of nowhere bad-mouthing my mother..."
"Jack," Daniel began, speaking in a slow, calming tone, like he was talking Jack down from the ledge of craziness back into the office building of rational thought, "A: You've been here for a total of twenty minutes, ten of which were spent raiding my refrigerator; B: I've learned better than to encourage you by speaking to you or otherwise acknowledging your existence, and C... I've... I've never even met your mother." Daniel frowned. "My point is... I know what it feels like when someone coughs on me!"
Jack looked at Daniel speculatively. "Oh really?"
Daniel straightened, moving as far from Jack as he could without scooting his chair around the desk. Jack leaned in, following Daniel's movement. He turned his head and coughed demurely into his palm, meeting Daniel's eyes pointedly over his splayed fingers.
"Bastard," Daniel muttered with conviction. Jack smiled and dropped his hand. He scooted his chair closer, blatantly invading Daniel's space. He looked at Daniel and tried very, very hard not to smirk. Daniel tensed, but did not back away.
Jack cleared his throat, keeping his lips clearly, firmly shut. Daniel rolled his eyes, shook his head, and relaxed his shoulders. Jack held up a hand, the international sign for 'but wait, there's more!' Daniel obeyed.
Jack leaned in close, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. He could feel Daniel's breath on his cheek, the corner of his mouth. He watched Daniel's eyes widen, then fall half-shut. Jack felt a smile twitch across his mouth as he abruptly changed course and coughed, not at all demurely, on Daniel's neck.
Daniel lurched back in his seat, nearly toppling over. He grabbed on to the edge of his desk and stopped his descent, though his reprieve came at the expense of a sheaf of papers. He looked up from the paper-littered floor to stare at Jack in disbelief, not to mention several other words starting with dis-: disgust, disapproval, disinterest...
Well, no, that wasn't entirely accurate. He did look a bit disgusted as he wiped a hand over his neck and down his shirtfront, but his eyes were shining.
"You know, it occurs to me... I've almost certainly got any germs you're carrying at this point," he said quietly, deliberately leaning in close to Jack. "If you're really trying to pass something on, Jack, there's a better way to go about it."
"Oh?" Jack breathed, "Is there?"
Daniel hummed his affirmative against Jack's lips. He skated a hand up Jack's arm to his neck, then his jaw, tilting his head for a better angle. Jack allowed himself to be guided, opening up to Daniel and feeling only slightly guilty. He'd originally come over looking for a little entertainment, and maybe some winter flu sympathy Frasier and the nurses on base hadn't been at all interested in providing. Instead he had an archaeologist sucking his tongue and, in a day or two, he'd have a Daniel of his very own to chide about the impoliteness of coughing on people. Jack grinned against Daniel's mouth. Things were looking better and better.
Meh. I'll print my paper in the morning. L's asleep anyway, and her printer's the only functioning one in the house. Curse you, Xerox Workcentre 5200! Curse you and all your non-functioning technological brethren!