Ficlet Post: "F for Foolproof" (G)
You people are evil! *grins* I'm going to have too much fun with all these :D
I'll still take as many prompts as you like.
Title: "F is for Foolproof"
Author: Rigel
Fandom: SG-1
Disclaimer: Not mine (alas!) Don't sue
Categories: Gen, Humor, Team, Vignette
Rating: G
Wordcount: 738
A/N: Written for pepper_field who prompted me with the image below the cut :D
“So,” Jack drawled. “Anyone for plan B, then?”
“Sir?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call this-” he rattled his chains, “a completely successful negotiation now, would you?”
Sam flexed her fingers and tried, unsuccessfully, to scratch her nose. Being hung by the wrists, in chains and against a dank and rather foul smelling wall, was not exactly how she’d pictured her day ending. “We’ve been in worse situations.” She ignored his incredulous stare.
“I did warn you, Jack. The Mendronan people are very particular about-” Daniel began.
“Nuh!”
“But-”
“Nuh uh! Not another peep out of you on the subject, Daniel.” Jack glared. “This mess is entirely your fault.”
“Mine! It wasn’t me who decided that addressing the Chief Minister as-”
“You were saying about Plan B?” Sam cut them off before the argument could develop further. Teal’c caught her eye and she could have sworn she saw amusement lurking behind his stoic façade.
“Yes, Plan B. That would be where you come in, Carter.”
“Excuse me, Sir?”
“You know-” He circled his wrists around his shackles again. “Find us a way out of the restraints using some of that brilliant know-how you have locked away in that brain of yours.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “With what? Two toothpicks and a piece of string?”
“You have toothpicks hidden away on you? Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
She rolled her eyes. “These are pretty solidly made, Sir. I’d need at least an iron file and a week to put even a dent into them.”
“Plan C, then.” He gave Daniel a significant glance.
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“And what do you expect me to do.”
“I don’t know, decipher the Goa’uld dialect on the walls and find us the secret passage out of here. Do your thing.”
“I hate to break it to you, Jack but those are just the graffiti of former prisoners. I believe that one over there says ‘I shot a man in Reno.’”
Sam laughed and quickly turned it into a cough.
“Cash fans all over the galaxy, apparently.” Jack said dryly.
“Close enough.” Daniel shrugged.
“Quite.”
“Daniel Jackson is mistaken; the writings refer to this man’s wishing for eternal suffering and damnation upon his tormentors,” Teal’c interjected.
Jack bared his teeth in a smile. “We’ll move on to plan D.”
“Plan D?” Sam echoed, by now very amused.
“Teal’c is clearly the brains of this operation and will pipe up at any moment to inform us he has a way out of this mess.”
“I regret that I am unable to do so, Colonel O’Neill.”
“Don’t tell me having the strength of three men isn’t giving you at least some kind of advantage?”
“I cannot break these restraints.”
Jack looked thoughtful. “For crying out loud! I guess we’ll just have to skip plan E and go straight to plan F.”
“Plan F?”
“F, for foolproof.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Daniel muttered.
“You!” Jack shouted. “Yes, you out there. I know you can hear me.”
A burly looking guard sauntered casually over to the bars set into the cell door and peered curiously at the prisoners who had so offended the Royal Court.
“Go and tell Lord Whats-his-face that I’d like to address a few words to him.” The guard looked slightly taken aback. “You know the one,” Jack continued. “Tall, wears a rather hideous purple cape that he’s fond of swirling dramatically, speaks with a lisp.” The guard’s mouth fell open. “Smells of elderberries and obviously wears a hairpiece,” Jack continued, delighted at the increasingly horrified expressions on his team’s faces.
The guard shook his fist and threatened dire consequences before withdrawing.
“Jack, are you trying to get us killed even faster?” Daniel asked, appalled.
“Not at all.” He grinned and twisted his hands again. The shackles popped open and fell back against the wall with a muted clang. “And that is why you always carry a concealed knife.”
“I’m not even going to ask where that came from.”
“Good, ‘cos then I’d have to kill you.” He methodically freed them all from the restraints and stood watching them while they rubbed the circulation back into their wrists. “So, shall we get going before the universe’s most gullible prison guard returns with the cavalry?”
“I wasn’t aware that the Mendronans had a mounted army.”
“Daniel!”
“I’m coming, it’s just your metaphors are always completely wrong…”
//End//
I'll still take as many prompts as you like.
Title: "F is for Foolproof"
Author: Rigel
Fandom: SG-1
Disclaimer: Not mine (alas!) Don't sue
Categories: Gen, Humor, Team, Vignette
Rating: G
Wordcount: 738
A/N: Written for pepper_field who prompted me with the image below the cut :D
“So,” Jack drawled. “Anyone for plan B, then?”
“Sir?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call this-” he rattled his chains, “a completely successful negotiation now, would you?”
Sam flexed her fingers and tried, unsuccessfully, to scratch her nose. Being hung by the wrists, in chains and against a dank and rather foul smelling wall, was not exactly how she’d pictured her day ending. “We’ve been in worse situations.” She ignored his incredulous stare.
“I did warn you, Jack. The Mendronan people are very particular about-” Daniel began.
“Nuh!”
“But-”
“Nuh uh! Not another peep out of you on the subject, Daniel.” Jack glared. “This mess is entirely your fault.”
“Mine! It wasn’t me who decided that addressing the Chief Minister as-”
“You were saying about Plan B?” Sam cut them off before the argument could develop further. Teal’c caught her eye and she could have sworn she saw amusement lurking behind his stoic façade.
“Yes, Plan B. That would be where you come in, Carter.”
“Excuse me, Sir?”
“You know-” He circled his wrists around his shackles again. “Find us a way out of the restraints using some of that brilliant know-how you have locked away in that brain of yours.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “With what? Two toothpicks and a piece of string?”
“You have toothpicks hidden away on you? Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
She rolled her eyes. “These are pretty solidly made, Sir. I’d need at least an iron file and a week to put even a dent into them.”
“Plan C, then.” He gave Daniel a significant glance.
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“And what do you expect me to do.”
“I don’t know, decipher the Goa’uld dialect on the walls and find us the secret passage out of here. Do your thing.”
“I hate to break it to you, Jack but those are just the graffiti of former prisoners. I believe that one over there says ‘I shot a man in Reno.’”
Sam laughed and quickly turned it into a cough.
“Cash fans all over the galaxy, apparently.” Jack said dryly.
“Close enough.” Daniel shrugged.
“Quite.”
“Daniel Jackson is mistaken; the writings refer to this man’s wishing for eternal suffering and damnation upon his tormentors,” Teal’c interjected.
Jack bared his teeth in a smile. “We’ll move on to plan D.”
“Plan D?” Sam echoed, by now very amused.
“Teal’c is clearly the brains of this operation and will pipe up at any moment to inform us he has a way out of this mess.”
“I regret that I am unable to do so, Colonel O’Neill.”
“Don’t tell me having the strength of three men isn’t giving you at least some kind of advantage?”
“I cannot break these restraints.”
Jack looked thoughtful. “For crying out loud! I guess we’ll just have to skip plan E and go straight to plan F.”
“Plan F?”
“F, for foolproof.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Daniel muttered.
“You!” Jack shouted. “Yes, you out there. I know you can hear me.”
A burly looking guard sauntered casually over to the bars set into the cell door and peered curiously at the prisoners who had so offended the Royal Court.
“Go and tell Lord Whats-his-face that I’d like to address a few words to him.” The guard looked slightly taken aback. “You know the one,” Jack continued. “Tall, wears a rather hideous purple cape that he’s fond of swirling dramatically, speaks with a lisp.” The guard’s mouth fell open. “Smells of elderberries and obviously wears a hairpiece,” Jack continued, delighted at the increasingly horrified expressions on his team’s faces.
The guard shook his fist and threatened dire consequences before withdrawing.
“Jack, are you trying to get us killed even faster?” Daniel asked, appalled.
“Not at all.” He grinned and twisted his hands again. The shackles popped open and fell back against the wall with a muted clang. “And that is why you always carry a concealed knife.”
“I’m not even going to ask where that came from.”
“Good, ‘cos then I’d have to kill you.” He methodically freed them all from the restraints and stood watching them while they rubbed the circulation back into their wrists. “So, shall we get going before the universe’s most gullible prison guard returns with the cavalry?”
“I wasn’t aware that the Mendronans had a mounted army.”
“Daniel!”
“I’m coming, it’s just your metaphors are always completely wrong…”
//End//