Crickets chirping...? Appeal for gen fic! (Let's call it SG-1 Gen Fic Day.)

[sg_fignewton]

I have the immense privilege of tagging for sg1_debrief, which mostly entails skimming through the newsletter's flist in search of gen fic. (The maintainers do the really hard work, and I think the other taggers cope with a lot more volume than I do.) There's always less gen fic than ship fic, but I'm resigned to that as par for the course by now

Comments

[ankh_lj]

I found a snippet recently:

The crumpled ball of paper flew toward the wastepaper basket, bounced off the rim, hit the wall and landed with a pathetic whisper of a sound next to ten similar crumpled balls of paper. Daniel glared at it. Since it didn't have the decency to land where it was supposed to, at least it could have made a thud or knocked the basket over or... Great. Apparently he had a burning desire to be a litterbug. Daniel was ... What the hell was Daniel doing? Daniel was sulking, said man thought to himself with self-disgust. God, Daniel, get over it. Jack didn't mean it. It's not like the guy broke your heart. Scowling at the remaining sheets of his coffee-sodden notes - Hand written! Fifty-seven pages! - from which he was supposed to write his latest report, Daniel snatched up the paper and crumpled it with satisfying violence before tossing it at the wastepaper basket. It joined its fellows on the floor. The waste-basket remained mockingly empty.

***

Ouch. Hate to be that paper. Well, there was a definite pout to Daniel's lips, the skin seemed tighter around the eyes and mouth as if being drawn back by some hidden force. The shoulders were hunched. And those hands were curled into fists. Jack noted all of this and quashed the urge to bang his head against the nearest wall. Great. Just what he needed. Daniel mad at him. He entered the office, almost tiptoeing as he entered Daniel's, um, den. Somehow, making any excessive sound seemed like a really bad idea.

"Ah ... Daniel? You busy?"

"Always." Clipped and to the point.

Oh, that was *so* not good. Come on, Jack. Bite the bullet. Say the damn words and try and fix this. "Look, Daniel. I ... Well, you know that I... Uh. You know."

Daniel looked up at that. "What, Jack?"

Ah hell. He was going to make him say it. He was going to have to play kiss and make up. Uh, kinda. Jack stepped closer, placed something on the coffee-stained desk and shifted restlessly on the spot, looking intensely uncomfortable. He steeled himself then said the words Daniel needed to hear: "I'm sorry I spilt coffee all over your desk and your notes. And I'm sorry I broke your mug. It was an accident, I swear."

Daniel tilted his head to one side, clearly weighing the apology and the gift. A sudden smile lit his face, warming Jack with its brilliance and suddenly everything was just fine.

"Your own Homer mug, Jack? That's…" Daniel searched for the right words. "It's much better than my old mug anyway. I have more notes I can use in my journal and I have video footage. I'll make some coffee. You get to help me clear up." Ducking his head to hide his grin, Daniel grabbed the Simpson's mug and practically bounced out of his seat and headed for the coffee pot. Apparently, one apology and a second-hand mug made everything right with his world.

A decidedly happy camper now, Jack began crumpling paper, whistling tunelessly to himself as he picked up a dozen crumpled, coffee-stained paper balls from the floor and tossed each one into the wastepaper basket with superb accuracy. Running out of ammo, he turned to fetch more paper. Daniel was glaring at him, venom in his look. Oh for crying out loud...

[sg_fignewton]

Hee hee hee!

I loved the eloquence of Jack's first attempt. SO him.

And such a perfect picture of the pushme-pullyou of the two of them, when Daniel gets mad all over again because Jack has THE NERVE to aim better than he does... :)

[aurora_novarum]

LOL! Poor Jack, he doesn't even know why Daniel's mad at him the second time around.