SG1 gen fic: V is for Vodka
Title: V is for Vodka
Rating/Word Count: G, 328
Summary: Jack asks Martin Lloyd not to call him drunk. Written for sg-fignewton's alphabet soup
Martin groaned as he tried to open his eyes. His head was pounding and the room was swaying slightly, so he closed them again and buried his face in the pillow. He didn't remember how he got into bed, but he did know he didn't want to get out just now.
Moments later, the alarm clock on the night stand began blaring out an obnoxious tune. Martin struggled to turn it off, cursing and nearly crying in frustration. Mission finally accomplished, he sat at the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, wondering who had tuned the clock radio to a pop station. The housekeeping staff? Probably. He hated this hotel, but it was closest to the movie set.
He made his way to the bathroom in search of water. On the sink was a bottle of Tylenol, three bottles of water and a bottle of Gatorade. Attached to the mirror was a hand written note.
Martin;
It seems we need to discuss boundaries and rules once again. Please keep this in your wallet and refer to it as needed.
1) Do not phone Jack O'Neill except in cases of emergency EXTREME emergency.
2) 50's night at the local karaoke bar is NOT an emergency.
3) Your date thinking that you're weird does not mean she suspects you to be an alien. You're just weird.
4) You are not refer to back home as 'on your planet'. If you find yourself in a bind, say you're from Canada.
5) Under no circumstances are you allowed to drink vodka again.
Signed;
Jack O'Neill
P.S. I've asked the local sheriff to drop the drunk and disorderly charges, but she's put you on notice. "No more shenanigans!!" (her words) She's also left her number, apparently she's a 50's fan and thinks you have a nice voice.
Do not EVER put me in a position of having to hear a sheriff say something like that about you EVER again. Do you understand me?
Rating/Word Count: G, 328
Summary: Jack asks Martin Lloyd not to call him drunk. Written for sg-fignewton's alphabet soup
Martin groaned as he tried to open his eyes. His head was pounding and the room was swaying slightly, so he closed them again and buried his face in the pillow. He didn't remember how he got into bed, but he did know he didn't want to get out just now.
Moments later, the alarm clock on the night stand began blaring out an obnoxious tune. Martin struggled to turn it off, cursing and nearly crying in frustration. Mission finally accomplished, he sat at the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, wondering who had tuned the clock radio to a pop station. The housekeeping staff? Probably. He hated this hotel, but it was closest to the movie set.
He made his way to the bathroom in search of water. On the sink was a bottle of Tylenol, three bottles of water and a bottle of Gatorade. Attached to the mirror was a hand written note.
Martin;
It seems we need to discuss boundaries and rules once again. Please keep this in your wallet and refer to it as needed.
1) Do not phone Jack O'Neill except in cases of emergency EXTREME emergency.
2) 50's night at the local karaoke bar is NOT an emergency.
3) Your date thinking that you're weird does not mean she suspects you to be an alien. You're just weird.
4) You are not refer to back home as 'on your planet'. If you find yourself in a bind, say you're from Canada.
5) Under no circumstances are you allowed to drink vodka again.
Signed;
Jack O'Neill
P.S. I've asked the local sheriff to drop the drunk and disorderly charges, but she's put you on notice. "No more shenanigans!!" (her words) She's also left her number, apparently she's a 50's fan and thinks you have a nice voice.
Do not EVER put me in a position of having to hear a sheriff say something like that about you EVER again. Do you understand me?