Ficlet: Settling In, Gen, PG
Well, I can't *possibly* miss Gen Fic Day. Alas, I have no actual fic to post. But here's a little snippet (that was going nowhere in my WIP file) from between S8 and S9- Jack's settling in at the Pentagon, and his new assistant doesn't quite know what to make of him:
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Devereaux sorted through the pile of new mail, well into another typical day at the Pentagon. It was the first day of her second week working for her new CO, General O'Neill, and she still wasn’t sure what to make of him. He seemed at first like a complete hardass, with a sarcastic comment for nearly every occasion, except that the sarcasm seemed as often directed at himself as anyone. He'd dismissed three assistants before her, and she took a perverse pride she'd already lasted longer than any of them. He was a workaholic, like every other senior officer in the place, but with a subtle difference that had taken several days for her to place. Where other officers seemed to spend as much time jockeying for position as anything else, this one was all business. The sixteen hour days he put in were all on Air Force business.
And what business. She'd thought it was a joke when she'd first been briefed and was still getting stunning shocks on a daily basis. Department of Homeworld Security? United States Starship Prometheus? Air Force teams that traveled to other planets? She'd heard people who'd worked in intelligence departments talk about the seductiveness of being an insider, knowing things other people didn’t. Devereaux didn't think she could ever go back to watching the evening news, knowing how much more was going on that was never revealed.
"Good morning, Sergeant."
She looked up to see Lt. Colonel Davis, the general's next appointment and someone she'd already come to rely on to keep her in the loop. "Good morning, sir. Do you have the report on space force deployment?" Being able to ask questions like that still tickled her.
"Yes, we're going to need to increase recruitment by at least--" He broke off as another man came up behind him.
"Hello," at first glance the man had seemed like any civilian with slightly rumpled hair and a well-cut suit, a visitor pass pinned to his lapel. On second glance, he had bright blue eyes and a pleasant smile that immediately made Devereaux far better disposed toward him than the usual run of the mill visitor.
"Daniel!" Lt. Colonel Davis turned around and smiled with real pleasure, holding out a hand to the newcomer. "It's great to see you."
"Hi, Paul. You're looking good," the man shook Davis' hand. "How's Jack?"
"I'm taking bets on whether he shoots the Joint Chiefs or drives them insane first," Davis said drolly.
Devereaux realized with a faint shock that the newcomer had called the general by his first name. She'd never heard anyone else do that. Davis was turning to her, "Daniel, this is Sergeant Lisa Devereaux. Devereaux, Dr. Daniel Jackson."
Devereaux shook the hand hand he held out politely, "Pleased to meet you, sir."
"Likewise," Jackson said. "I was hoping to catch Jack…"
"I'm sorry--" Devereaux began, just as Davis said, "Go in."
"Colonel?" Devereaux gave him a puzzled look. The general had a full schedule today.
Davis brushed aside her interruption, "The general will want to see him, Sergeant."
"But sir," Devereaux began to protest, but Jackson was already walking past her desk to open the general's door without knocking.
"--uh-huh?" The general's voice was a little muffled, and Devereaux stifled a smile as she saw that he was turned away from the door, chair tipped back and his feet propped casually on the window sill. Several wads of paper lying near the door showed her that he had been indulging in what was already a familiar pasttime to the sergeant, lobbing the wads back over his shoulder to try and hit the basket near the door.
As she watched, Jackson neatly caught the ball of paper that came flying toward him, and pegged it back at O'Neill, hitting him smartly on the back of the head. The chair dropped with a crash and his head came around with a jerk. When he saw Jackson he said into the phone, "I'll have to call you back." He dropped the phone back in its cradle. "Daniel."
"Jack."
"What'cha doing here?"
"Thought I'd see if you wanted some lunch." Jackson said.
The general grinned. "Sure." He jumped out of his chair and reached for his hat and jacket.
Devereaux hadn't seen the general look this pleased about anything in the week she'd worked for him, but her job was to keep him on schedule. Somewhat reluctantly, she reminded him, "Sir, you have a lunch appointment."
"Reschedule it, Devereaux," he ordered cheerfully. He turned to Daniel, "She's a pit bull. Worse than Walter. Has no mercy."
"You mean she doesn't let you push her around," the other man corrected with a conspiratorial glance at Devereaux. She smiled back involuntarily.
"You said lunch--" O'Neill reminded him. "Stop flirting with the help and let's get going. You're buying, by the way."
"I thought you were a highly paid senior officer now," Jackson returned with amusement in his voice. He fell into step with the general's long-legged stride.
"Do you know how much it costs to live in DC--" the senior officer's complaint trailed off as they disappeared down the hall.
Devereaux looked back with bemusement to see Davis grinning after them. "At the SGC they call that the Jack and Daniel Show," he said. "Has to be seen to be believed."
"Does he always talk to the general that way?" Devereaux couldn't help asking.
"Hell, no," Davis said, still grinning. "Sometimes they argue at the top of their lungs. Daniel's one of the few people I know that General O'Neill can't intimidate."
"He didn't even knock," Devereaux said.
"His theory is that General O'Neill hasn't knocked on his office door in all the years they've known each other, so why should he?" Davis looked at her puzzled expression. "They're old friends and teammates. From when O'Neill was a colonel and still leading a team through the stargate.
"Oh?" Devereaux said. The general used to lead a team through the stargate? That explained a lot.
"Yeah, Daniel's still on SG-1. The number one first contact team. When he's corporeal." Davis grimaced faintly as he muttered the last sentence. He cleared his throat and added, "He's also Director of Linguistics and Cultural Studies for Stargate Command."
She blinked and revised her opinion of the pleasant man's importance upward several notches, then the previous statement registered, "When he's what?"
Davis shook his head. "It's a really long, really weird story. You'll find that there are a lot of those about the general and his friends."
"Before today, I didn't realize he had friends," Devereaux said incautiously.
Davis took two steps inside the general's office and picked up the photograph that sat on his desk. Deveraux had seen it before, a group of people in civilian clothes, apparently at a picnic. He turned it around and showed it to Devereaux. She easily picked out the general and realized the man sitting shoulder to shoulder with him was Daniel Jackson. There was a pre-teen girl sitting on his other side with O'Neill's arm around her and behind her a smiling woman with reddish brown hair. An attractive blond woman stood with her hands on Jackson's shoulders and a large black man wearing a baseball cap stood beside her, behind O'Neill and Jackson. The balding man in the casual shirt beside him she recognized with a slight mental shock was General George Hammond. Davis pointed to the blond woman and the black man, "Lt. Colonel Carter and Teal'c. They're the rest of SG-1."
"Who are the others?" Deveraux asked. She looked at the woman and the young girl. "Wife and daughter?"
"No, more SGC people. Dr. Janet Fraiser was the base CMO. She's dead-- killed during a medevac under fire. The girl is her daughter, Cassie. They were close to SG-1. General Hammond--"
"I've met him," Devereaux said. She looked at the body language. "I guess General O'Neill must miss them. They seem very close."
Davis glanced at the photo. "Yeah, I'm sure he does." He smiled, "Don't worry, the general won't take a long lunch." He glanced down. "Can you fit me in later today to go over these deployment figures?"
"Yes, sir," Deveraux said, already mentally juggling the general's schedule. "Four o'clock?"
"Fine," Davis said, and turned to leave. "Oh, Sergeant?"
She looked up to see him smiling again. "Sir?"
"Cheer up, it could have been an alien invasion."
She smiled back politely as he left the outer office. "An alien invasion might have been less trouble," she muttered, looking at the general's schedule. She sighed and reached for the phone.
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Devereaux sorted through the pile of new mail, well into another typical day at the Pentagon. It was the first day of her second week working for her new CO, General O'Neill, and she still wasn’t sure what to make of him. He seemed at first like a complete hardass, with a sarcastic comment for nearly every occasion, except that the sarcasm seemed as often directed at himself as anyone. He'd dismissed three assistants before her, and she took a perverse pride she'd already lasted longer than any of them. He was a workaholic, like every other senior officer in the place, but with a subtle difference that had taken several days for her to place. Where other officers seemed to spend as much time jockeying for position as anything else, this one was all business. The sixteen hour days he put in were all on Air Force business.
And what business. She'd thought it was a joke when she'd first been briefed and was still getting stunning shocks on a daily basis. Department of Homeworld Security? United States Starship Prometheus? Air Force teams that traveled to other planets? She'd heard people who'd worked in intelligence departments talk about the seductiveness of being an insider, knowing things other people didn’t. Devereaux didn't think she could ever go back to watching the evening news, knowing how much more was going on that was never revealed.
"Good morning, Sergeant."
She looked up to see Lt. Colonel Davis, the general's next appointment and someone she'd already come to rely on to keep her in the loop. "Good morning, sir. Do you have the report on space force deployment?" Being able to ask questions like that still tickled her.
"Yes, we're going to need to increase recruitment by at least--" He broke off as another man came up behind him.
"Hello," at first glance the man had seemed like any civilian with slightly rumpled hair and a well-cut suit, a visitor pass pinned to his lapel. On second glance, he had bright blue eyes and a pleasant smile that immediately made Devereaux far better disposed toward him than the usual run of the mill visitor.
"Daniel!" Lt. Colonel Davis turned around and smiled with real pleasure, holding out a hand to the newcomer. "It's great to see you."
"Hi, Paul. You're looking good," the man shook Davis' hand. "How's Jack?"
"I'm taking bets on whether he shoots the Joint Chiefs or drives them insane first," Davis said drolly.
Devereaux realized with a faint shock that the newcomer had called the general by his first name. She'd never heard anyone else do that. Davis was turning to her, "Daniel, this is Sergeant Lisa Devereaux. Devereaux, Dr. Daniel Jackson."
Devereaux shook the hand hand he held out politely, "Pleased to meet you, sir."
"Likewise," Jackson said. "I was hoping to catch Jack…"
"I'm sorry--" Devereaux began, just as Davis said, "Go in."
"Colonel?" Devereaux gave him a puzzled look. The general had a full schedule today.
Davis brushed aside her interruption, "The general will want to see him, Sergeant."
"But sir," Devereaux began to protest, but Jackson was already walking past her desk to open the general's door without knocking.
"--uh-huh?" The general's voice was a little muffled, and Devereaux stifled a smile as she saw that he was turned away from the door, chair tipped back and his feet propped casually on the window sill. Several wads of paper lying near the door showed her that he had been indulging in what was already a familiar pasttime to the sergeant, lobbing the wads back over his shoulder to try and hit the basket near the door.
As she watched, Jackson neatly caught the ball of paper that came flying toward him, and pegged it back at O'Neill, hitting him smartly on the back of the head. The chair dropped with a crash and his head came around with a jerk. When he saw Jackson he said into the phone, "I'll have to call you back." He dropped the phone back in its cradle. "Daniel."
"Jack."
"What'cha doing here?"
"Thought I'd see if you wanted some lunch." Jackson said.
The general grinned. "Sure." He jumped out of his chair and reached for his hat and jacket.
Devereaux hadn't seen the general look this pleased about anything in the week she'd worked for him, but her job was to keep him on schedule. Somewhat reluctantly, she reminded him, "Sir, you have a lunch appointment."
"Reschedule it, Devereaux," he ordered cheerfully. He turned to Daniel, "She's a pit bull. Worse than Walter. Has no mercy."
"You mean she doesn't let you push her around," the other man corrected with a conspiratorial glance at Devereaux. She smiled back involuntarily.
"You said lunch--" O'Neill reminded him. "Stop flirting with the help and let's get going. You're buying, by the way."
"I thought you were a highly paid senior officer now," Jackson returned with amusement in his voice. He fell into step with the general's long-legged stride.
"Do you know how much it costs to live in DC--" the senior officer's complaint trailed off as they disappeared down the hall.
Devereaux looked back with bemusement to see Davis grinning after them. "At the SGC they call that the Jack and Daniel Show," he said. "Has to be seen to be believed."
"Does he always talk to the general that way?" Devereaux couldn't help asking.
"Hell, no," Davis said, still grinning. "Sometimes they argue at the top of their lungs. Daniel's one of the few people I know that General O'Neill can't intimidate."
"He didn't even knock," Devereaux said.
"His theory is that General O'Neill hasn't knocked on his office door in all the years they've known each other, so why should he?" Davis looked at her puzzled expression. "They're old friends and teammates. From when O'Neill was a colonel and still leading a team through the stargate.
"Oh?" Devereaux said. The general used to lead a team through the stargate? That explained a lot.
"Yeah, Daniel's still on SG-1. The number one first contact team. When he's corporeal." Davis grimaced faintly as he muttered the last sentence. He cleared his throat and added, "He's also Director of Linguistics and Cultural Studies for Stargate Command."
She blinked and revised her opinion of the pleasant man's importance upward several notches, then the previous statement registered, "When he's what?"
Davis shook his head. "It's a really long, really weird story. You'll find that there are a lot of those about the general and his friends."
"Before today, I didn't realize he had friends," Devereaux said incautiously.
Davis took two steps inside the general's office and picked up the photograph that sat on his desk. Deveraux had seen it before, a group of people in civilian clothes, apparently at a picnic. He turned it around and showed it to Devereaux. She easily picked out the general and realized the man sitting shoulder to shoulder with him was Daniel Jackson. There was a pre-teen girl sitting on his other side with O'Neill's arm around her and behind her a smiling woman with reddish brown hair. An attractive blond woman stood with her hands on Jackson's shoulders and a large black man wearing a baseball cap stood beside her, behind O'Neill and Jackson. The balding man in the casual shirt beside him she recognized with a slight mental shock was General George Hammond. Davis pointed to the blond woman and the black man, "Lt. Colonel Carter and Teal'c. They're the rest of SG-1."
"Who are the others?" Deveraux asked. She looked at the woman and the young girl. "Wife and daughter?"
"No, more SGC people. Dr. Janet Fraiser was the base CMO. She's dead-- killed during a medevac under fire. The girl is her daughter, Cassie. They were close to SG-1. General Hammond--"
"I've met him," Devereaux said. She looked at the body language. "I guess General O'Neill must miss them. They seem very close."
Davis glanced at the photo. "Yeah, I'm sure he does." He smiled, "Don't worry, the general won't take a long lunch." He glanced down. "Can you fit me in later today to go over these deployment figures?"
"Yes, sir," Deveraux said, already mentally juggling the general's schedule. "Four o'clock?"
"Fine," Davis said, and turned to leave. "Oh, Sergeant?"
She looked up to see him smiling again. "Sir?"
"Cheer up, it could have been an alien invasion."
She smiled back politely as he left the outer office. "An alien invasion might have been less trouble," she muttered, looking at the general's schedule. She sighed and reached for the phone.