Fic: Printer Mayhem (Sam/Cam)
Title: Printer Mayhem
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Sam/Cam
Prompt: #011 Perhaps
Word Count: 160
Rating: T+
Summary: “Perhaps that wasn’t such a great idea.” Sam sucks her lower lip into her mouth and studies Cam thoughtfully.
Notes: Written for drabble123. 5/08/08. This one makes me cringe a little.
“Perhaps that wasn’t such a great idea.” Sam sucks her lower lip into her mouth and studies Cam thoughtfully.
“No?” he returns. ”You’re realising this now?”
She shrugs. “Apparently so.”
“Of course. That would have to be the way of it.”
“Hey!”
“Sorry.”
”Anyway, as I was saying,” Sam continues, aiming a glare at him, “I think I should have pressed the other button.”
”Yeah?”
“Yup. I imagine that way it would have created an image on the page as it’s supposed to and not - “
“Spurted ink all the colours of the rainbow at us?”
She offers him a sheepish grin. “Exactly.”
“Let’s try it then. It’s not like we can get any dirtier.” He nods at the Ancients’ version of a colour printer.
Sam reaches for the button, presses it.
“Ah, crap!”
“Well,” Cam says, wiping his face clear of the itty bits of confetti-like material the machine spits at them. “I’m glad our printers don’t do that.”
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Sam/Cam
Prompt: #011 Perhaps
Word Count: 160
Rating: T+
Summary: “Perhaps that wasn’t such a great idea.” Sam sucks her lower lip into her mouth and studies Cam thoughtfully.
Notes: Written for drabble123. 5/08/08. This one makes me cringe a little.
“Perhaps that wasn’t such a great idea.” Sam sucks her lower lip into her mouth and studies Cam thoughtfully.
“No?” he returns. ”You’re realising this now?”
She shrugs. “Apparently so.”
“Of course. That would have to be the way of it.”
“Hey!”
“Sorry.”
”Anyway, as I was saying,” Sam continues, aiming a glare at him, “I think I should have pressed the other button.”
”Yeah?”
“Yup. I imagine that way it would have created an image on the page as it’s supposed to and not - “
“Spurted ink all the colours of the rainbow at us?”
She offers him a sheepish grin. “Exactly.”
“Let’s try it then. It’s not like we can get any dirtier.” He nods at the Ancients’ version of a colour printer.
Sam reaches for the button, presses it.
“Ah, crap!”
“Well,” Cam says, wiping his face clear of the itty bits of confetti-like material the machine spits at them. “I’m glad our printers don’t do that.”