[fic] fourth cup café - SGA/SG-1
Title: Fourth Cup Café
Fandom(s): Stargate: Atlantis/Stargate SG-1
Pairing: gen
Rating: G
Word Count: 400
Written for: stargateland's "that's not canon" challenge. Total AU.
Summary: Daniel Jackson is the producer of a successful cable travel series. Unfortnately, his partner is his stepbrother Peter Kavanaugh.
Daniel sighed as he slid out of the car, wondering what his idiot stepbrother had gotten them into this time. Peter had ordered the full crew, cameras and all, up to Nowheresville, Wisconsin -- without consulting him.
So now here he was, standing in front of some greasy spoon hole in the wall, about to meet a restaurant owner who thought she was going to be interviewed for an episode of America’s Best-Kept Secrets. Daniel just hoped they didn’t get sued again for reneging on a contract. He prayed Peter hadn’t signed any paperwork.
Sighing, he pushed open the swinging door of the diner and went to meet his fate.
The inside of the diner was a bright, eye-searing yellow that strove for “cheery,” but achieved “assault upon the senses.” Three walls were stenciled with, of all things, obnoxious vines of pink and yellow flowers. The fourth wall was covered in the usual truck-stop memorabilia: framed photographs, hand-written testimonials, even a few album covers autographed by local musicians.
“There you are,” Daniel said, finally locating his brother in all that clutter. Peter was fiddling nervously with his idiosyncratic cowboy hat.
He grinned when he saw Daniel. “You came!”
“Of course I did,” Daniel replied. “Where is the owner?” he asked, looking around the diner. Not that he enjoyed crushing dreams, but it really was best to rip the bandage off as soon as possible.
Peter must’ve detected the coolness in Daniel’s voice, because his face fell. “It’s different this time,” he said quietly, pleadingly. “Just give this place a chance! You’ll love it, I promise.”
Daniel scrubbed his hand over his face. “That’s what you always say.”
“Mr. Kavanagh?” a voice chirped from behind Peter. As he turned, a petite woman was revealed.
A petite woman who was wearing army green coveralls. Daniel groaned inwardly.
“I’m Jennifer Keller,” the woman said, holding out her hand. Her smile was only a little forced.
“Peter,” his brother said, shaking her hand eagerly. “And this is my brother, Danny.”
Daniel shot him a glare for the use of his childhood nickname, which no one had used in years.
Then he looked at Keller, who seemed uncomfortable, but had the polite smile still pasted on her face, waiting for a response. Peter was radiating waves of tension in his direction. It was exhausting, as always.
“Nice to meet you Ms. Keller,” Daniel said, smiling back at her. “I’d love to see more of your operation.”
Fandom(s): Stargate: Atlantis/Stargate SG-1
Pairing: gen
Rating: G
Word Count: 400
Written for: stargateland's "that's not canon" challenge. Total AU.
Summary: Daniel Jackson is the producer of a successful cable travel series. Unfortnately, his partner is his stepbrother Peter Kavanaugh.
Daniel sighed as he slid out of the car, wondering what his idiot stepbrother had gotten them into this time. Peter had ordered the full crew, cameras and all, up to Nowheresville, Wisconsin -- without consulting him.
So now here he was, standing in front of some greasy spoon hole in the wall, about to meet a restaurant owner who thought she was going to be interviewed for an episode of America’s Best-Kept Secrets. Daniel just hoped they didn’t get sued again for reneging on a contract. He prayed Peter hadn’t signed any paperwork.
Sighing, he pushed open the swinging door of the diner and went to meet his fate.
The inside of the diner was a bright, eye-searing yellow that strove for “cheery,” but achieved “assault upon the senses.” Three walls were stenciled with, of all things, obnoxious vines of pink and yellow flowers. The fourth wall was covered in the usual truck-stop memorabilia: framed photographs, hand-written testimonials, even a few album covers autographed by local musicians.
“There you are,” Daniel said, finally locating his brother in all that clutter. Peter was fiddling nervously with his idiosyncratic cowboy hat.
He grinned when he saw Daniel. “You came!”
“Of course I did,” Daniel replied. “Where is the owner?” he asked, looking around the diner. Not that he enjoyed crushing dreams, but it really was best to rip the bandage off as soon as possible.
Peter must’ve detected the coolness in Daniel’s voice, because his face fell. “It’s different this time,” he said quietly, pleadingly. “Just give this place a chance! You’ll love it, I promise.”
Daniel scrubbed his hand over his face. “That’s what you always say.”
“Mr. Kavanagh?” a voice chirped from behind Peter. As he turned, a petite woman was revealed.
A petite woman who was wearing army green coveralls. Daniel groaned inwardly.
“I’m Jennifer Keller,” the woman said, holding out her hand. Her smile was only a little forced.
“Peter,” his brother said, shaking her hand eagerly. “And this is my brother, Danny.”
Daniel shot him a glare for the use of his childhood nickname, which no one had used in years.
Then he looked at Keller, who seemed uncomfortable, but had the polite smile still pasted on her face, waiting for a response. Peter was radiating waves of tension in his direction. It was exhausting, as always.
“Nice to meet you Ms. Keller,” Daniel said, smiling back at her. “I’d love to see more of your operation.”