Correspondence
Going back over some old Stargate fics and trying to see if I can finish them, seeing as I've had them hanging around for what feels like forever. I've been chipping away today at one that's a series of letters from Jack's mom, Head of English at the local high school, and the source of his grammar nitpicking and inherent distrust of scientists.
See, being an old-fashioned sort of guy, and one who's spent most of his adult life travelling with the army, I imagined Jack might write letters. We've seen him do it, too, at least once that I can remember - the letter to Hammond, where he almost resigned. He was a lot more open and honest in that letter than he ever usually is out loud.
Each letter is fairly short, so I figure I could just about manage one per episode.. I've written some, scattered over the first three seasons, and now I'm trying to fill in the gaps. I'm not gonna write Jack's letters. What he's written should be reflected by his mom's reactions.
Oh heck. I just want to know if it's dead boring or not. This is the letter for 'Brief Candle':
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Dear Jonathan,
Well, in answer to your (rather strange and somewhat morbid) question, people on my side of the family have generally been fairly long-lived. You know all about your grandfather, of course. When he finally passed on, it was such an event that it was reported in the local paper, did you know that? The Petersons are a healthy lot, with all their own teeth and hair right up until the end. As for the O'Neill's, your father isn't so sure of the details. There isn't any history of disease that he can remember (of course, your aunt did die of cancer a few years ago, but she was quite a heavy smoker in her day - thank goodness you gave them up - such a disgusting habit). However, the O'Neill's do have a history of... interesting demises. Talk to your father about it sometime, he has quite some anecdotes. They've always been good at finding exciting trouble. Ask him about his Uncle Albert and the pear tree. Please keep yourself safe, Jonathan - I don't want to see you included in their numbers.
What brought on these thoughts of old age? Or can't I ask? Honestly, darling, could someone not have come up with a better cover story than 'deep space radar telemetry'? If I hear that lie from you once more, you'll find that you're never too old to be put across your mother's knee, "Bird" Colonel or not! If you can't tell me what you are doing, I will accept that... ungraciously, perhaps (who do they think I might tell? The local sewing circle?), but I'll accept it. But I do not wish to be told lies.
Whatever it is, I believe that it's dangerous. Well, either that, or so boring that it's got you thinking about your old age. Don't worry, darling, that's still a long way off - you're still a little boy to me! But then, perhaps you always will be. A mother's prerogative.
Tell me more about this team of yours, if you can. I'm always interested in the people in your life, and the little tidbits of information about them that you've been dropping into your letters have piqued my interest. They don't sound like your usual collection of - what's that word? 'Grunts'? Such a descriptive term! I'm finding it very hard to picture you leading a team with scientists as a permanent fixture. Of course, that is probably my fault, but as Head of English I feel it's my responsibility - no, my *duty* - to be constantly at war with the Science department. I hope I haven't colored your view of scientists and science, though. I'm sure there are some very likeable scientists out there... somewhere. Perhaps you have found some. I hope so.
I have to go, darling - essays to mark, you know. Take care of yourself, and stay safe.
All my love,
Mom.
See, being an old-fashioned sort of guy, and one who's spent most of his adult life travelling with the army, I imagined Jack might write letters. We've seen him do it, too, at least once that I can remember - the letter to Hammond, where he almost resigned. He was a lot more open and honest in that letter than he ever usually is out loud.
Each letter is fairly short, so I figure I could just about manage one per episode.. I've written some, scattered over the first three seasons, and now I'm trying to fill in the gaps. I'm not gonna write Jack's letters. What he's written should be reflected by his mom's reactions.
Oh heck. I just want to know if it's dead boring or not. This is the letter for 'Brief Candle':
------------------------
Dear Jonathan,
Well, in answer to your (rather strange and somewhat morbid) question, people on my side of the family have generally been fairly long-lived. You know all about your grandfather, of course. When he finally passed on, it was such an event that it was reported in the local paper, did you know that? The Petersons are a healthy lot, with all their own teeth and hair right up until the end. As for the O'Neill's, your father isn't so sure of the details. There isn't any history of disease that he can remember (of course, your aunt did die of cancer a few years ago, but she was quite a heavy smoker in her day - thank goodness you gave them up - such a disgusting habit). However, the O'Neill's do have a history of... interesting demises. Talk to your father about it sometime, he has quite some anecdotes. They've always been good at finding exciting trouble. Ask him about his Uncle Albert and the pear tree. Please keep yourself safe, Jonathan - I don't want to see you included in their numbers.
What brought on these thoughts of old age? Or can't I ask? Honestly, darling, could someone not have come up with a better cover story than 'deep space radar telemetry'? If I hear that lie from you once more, you'll find that you're never too old to be put across your mother's knee, "Bird" Colonel or not! If you can't tell me what you are doing, I will accept that... ungraciously, perhaps (who do they think I might tell? The local sewing circle?), but I'll accept it. But I do not wish to be told lies.
Whatever it is, I believe that it's dangerous. Well, either that, or so boring that it's got you thinking about your old age. Don't worry, darling, that's still a long way off - you're still a little boy to me! But then, perhaps you always will be. A mother's prerogative.
Tell me more about this team of yours, if you can. I'm always interested in the people in your life, and the little tidbits of information about them that you've been dropping into your letters have piqued my interest. They don't sound like your usual collection of - what's that word? 'Grunts'? Such a descriptive term! I'm finding it very hard to picture you leading a team with scientists as a permanent fixture. Of course, that is probably my fault, but as Head of English I feel it's my responsibility - no, my *duty* - to be constantly at war with the Science department. I hope I haven't colored your view of scientists and science, though. I'm sure there are some very likeable scientists out there... somewhere. Perhaps you have found some. I hope so.
I have to go, darling - essays to mark, you know. Take care of yourself, and stay safe.
All my love,
Mom.