It's the little things. (More Trick or Treat fic.)
Essentials: Beer & Coffee
(HL/SG-1, for not_hathor's treat bag)
The guy in front of Jack was shoving his shopping cart ahead slowly, taking up a lot of the aisle. Admittedly, at 3 AM there was no real reason he shouldn't. The cart was loaded with decent bread, good deli meats and cheeses, a bag of coffee and a container of cream, and now he was picking out beer. Jack would have been in more of a hurry, but the guy had good taste and he was always interested in new beers to try.
Jack also knew that kind of limp, and had seen the cane hooked over the cart. He wasn't hurrying a man with more white hair than he had who was down a leg or two.
The guy looked up and gave him a slanted grin. "Not in a hurry, or waiting for me to get out of your way?"
"More like waiting to see what you pick. We agree on roast beef, Havarti, and Ugly Mug so far."
That got a wider grin and he picked up a couple six packs, not at random. "What, you don't like pumpernickel?"
"Nah. No point getting used to the really good stuff." Jack gave the beer he'd chosen an interested look. "Ghost River Black Magic? Blue Moon? Where do they get these names?"
"Ghost River's outside Memphis, where the brewery's located. Blue Moon, I couldn't tell you. How do you feel about Newcastle?"
"Good stuff." Jack snagged a six pack of the Black Magic, too. "That'll fill a couple bags. Need a hand loading your car?"
"Nah, I'm good. Handicap tags are useful in winter around here." He held out a hand. "Joe Dawson."
"Jack O'Neill. Always good to meet another beer man. But you want the local cream, not the store brand. That stuff goes bad too fast." Partly it was the local stuff being fresher, and the rest of it was the locals using a screw top on the carton instead of the old folding funnel. (Anyone in the Mountain more than a month learned which essentials lasted longest and why. It was almost a rite of passage to clean out your fridge after the first mission run long or base lock-down.)
That got him a quick grin. "Ah, another coffee man. Thanks. I'll keep it in mind."
He made no move to turn around and Jack shrugged. "Last good deed offer. Need a runner?"
"Limp's that obvious, huh?" He shrugged, nodded. "Sure, thanks, sir."
"Colorado is hell on old bones," Jack agreed. "Mine just aren't aching tonight." He eyed Joe suspiciously. "Sir."
"Yeah, it is, and I've got a couple friends who are going to owe me for coming here in winter to help 'em set up a business. And hell, if you're gonna be nice to an old marine, I'll be nice and not tell you how far the 'officer' sign flashes when you're off duty. Sir." For an 'old marine' -- which Jack actually believed -- it was still a pretty wicked grin.
Jack laughed his ass off all the way to the milk shelves. Original post on Dreamwidth | Leave a comment on DW | Read
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