Happy birthday, Kalquessa!
Happy (belated) birthday to Kalquessa, who granted me my benevolent dictatrix status and is the most squeeful addition to my flist. I hope your day was as delightful and warm and funny as you are yourself! :)
The crackiness beneath the cut is not fic. It's a birthday note of sorts, set in late S7, because Kalquessa and very silly grins go automatically hand-in-hand.
Er. You do live in California, right?
And if someone doesn't get the point... well. It's for Kalquessa. Keep that in mind. :)
KALQUESSA
"Kree!"
Automatically, the team swung into action. They couldn't bring their most powerful weapons off-base, off course. Even Jack, who never went anywhere unarmed, had only brought a discreet pistol with him to a picnic outing at the park in the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo. But Sam and Daniel ducked under some bushes, sharing cover with a trio of offended pink flamingos, while Teal'c and Jack fell back against the gnarled trunk of a spreading oak. Tense and ready, they waited to see what would happen next.
"Loved it, guys!" called an all-too-familiar voice, even if it seemed a bit more higher-pitched than usual. "I give it a 8.5."
Quick reactions spared the four members of SG-1 from blurting anything incriminating aloud. Instead, they shared three eye rolls, two raised brows, four grimaces, a quick hand signal or two, and one collective sigh.
"Unbelievable," Jack muttered, and he rose to his feet just as the annoying figure of a younger Jack O'Neill sauntered into the clearing, whistling off-key.
"Excellent!" his clone exclaimed, making a beeline for the cooler under the tree. "I'm dying for a beer." He grabbed a can and nodded at each adult in turn. "Daniel. T. Carter. Jack." He beamed as obnoxiously as possible. "How're you all doing?"
Sam brushed some flamingo feathers out of her hair and eased between the glowering colonel and the smirking teenager. "It's nice to see you and all," she told the carbon copy of her CO with fixed politeness, "but I think we'd appreciate a little explanation."
"Something to explain that kree, too. I'm sure that Jack here is going to share that with us. Now," Daniel added, his voice layered with that dangerous sweetness that any incarnation of Jack O'Neill could recognize as potentially deadly. Teal'c loomed benignly behind him, but with that particular head tilt that suggested that the loom could turn menacing whenever he felt like it.
"Actually, the kree thing was just to make you jump," clone!Jack cheerfully admitted. "I do need your help, though. Cheese elves and attack penguins. The very future of the planet is probably at stake." He paused for a moment, considering, then added, "Well, maybe not the planet. But California at the very least."
The crackiness beneath the cut is not fic. It's a birthday note of sorts, set in late S7, because Kalquessa and very silly grins go automatically hand-in-hand.
Er. You do live in California, right?
And if someone doesn't get the point... well. It's for Kalquessa. Keep that in mind. :)
KALQUESSA
"Kree!"
Automatically, the team swung into action. They couldn't bring their most powerful weapons off-base, off course. Even Jack, who never went anywhere unarmed, had only brought a discreet pistol with him to a picnic outing at the park in the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo. But Sam and Daniel ducked under some bushes, sharing cover with a trio of offended pink flamingos, while Teal'c and Jack fell back against the gnarled trunk of a spreading oak. Tense and ready, they waited to see what would happen next.
"Loved it, guys!" called an all-too-familiar voice, even if it seemed a bit more higher-pitched than usual. "I give it a 8.5."
Quick reactions spared the four members of SG-1 from blurting anything incriminating aloud. Instead, they shared three eye rolls, two raised brows, four grimaces, a quick hand signal or two, and one collective sigh.
"Unbelievable," Jack muttered, and he rose to his feet just as the annoying figure of a younger Jack O'Neill sauntered into the clearing, whistling off-key.
"Excellent!" his clone exclaimed, making a beeline for the cooler under the tree. "I'm dying for a beer." He grabbed a can and nodded at each adult in turn. "Daniel. T. Carter. Jack." He beamed as obnoxiously as possible. "How're you all doing?"
Sam brushed some flamingo feathers out of her hair and eased between the glowering colonel and the smirking teenager. "It's nice to see you and all," she told the carbon copy of her CO with fixed politeness, "but I think we'd appreciate a little explanation."
"Something to explain that kree, too. I'm sure that Jack here is going to share that with us. Now," Daniel added, his voice layered with that dangerous sweetness that any incarnation of Jack O'Neill could recognize as potentially deadly. Teal'c loomed benignly behind him, but with that particular head tilt that suggested that the loom could turn menacing whenever he felt like it.
"Actually, the kree thing was just to make you jump," clone!Jack cheerfully admitted. "I do need your help, though. Cheese elves and attack penguins. The very future of the planet is probably at stake." He paused for a moment, considering, then added, "Well, maybe not the planet. But California at the very least."