SGA/traders snippet
“Ma’am.” The marine passed over the stranger’s wallet.
Carter flicked through the leather wallet pulling out Grant Jansky’s credit and business card. A security swipe card showed a picture of the man before her. At the back of the wallet where bills should live was a sheaf of well-thumbed photos. Sam extracted the first one and grinned.
“Who’s this?” Sam asked even though she knew the answer. Two boys stood as close as skin, knock-kneed and grinning cheekily with wide, wide mouths. The photo was faded, but Sam would have laid a bet that the eyes framed by those long lashes were sea blue. The shock of light, curly hair was a practical joke waiting to happen. Sam’s day wouldn’t be complete if she couldn’t get a scan of this photo and post it on the SGC intranet.
Grant leaned out of the marine’s grasp to peer at the upside down, dog-eared photograph. “That’s me and Rodney at Mrs. Anderson’s, before Rodney went back to Auntie Ruthie and I went into the ‘system’ never to get out.”
“That’s Rodney all right, but there isn’t an ounce of fat on him. On either of you,” Sam smiled.
“Jeannie was a bit skinny too, but Auntie Ruthie liked her more so she got treats sometimes.” Carter’s fingers flicked through the sheaf of photos and withdrew a second photo of three stick-thin creatures staring at the lens, the downward slanting mouths were as belligerent as sin. The contrast between the two photos was horrible.
“The…”
“Auntie Ruthie wasn’t well, but she got medication and got better. And then Jeannie and Rodney had to go back and live with her. But I was her only her nephew and I didn’t go back.” Grant looked at her directly. “I think I was the lucky one.”
Carter flicked through the leather wallet pulling out Grant Jansky’s credit and business card. A security swipe card showed a picture of the man before her. At the back of the wallet where bills should live was a sheaf of well-thumbed photos. Sam extracted the first one and grinned.
“Who’s this?” Sam asked even though she knew the answer. Two boys stood as close as skin, knock-kneed and grinning cheekily with wide, wide mouths. The photo was faded, but Sam would have laid a bet that the eyes framed by those long lashes were sea blue. The shock of light, curly hair was a practical joke waiting to happen. Sam’s day wouldn’t be complete if she couldn’t get a scan of this photo and post it on the SGC intranet.
Grant leaned out of the marine’s grasp to peer at the upside down, dog-eared photograph. “That’s me and Rodney at Mrs. Anderson’s, before Rodney went back to Auntie Ruthie and I went into the ‘system’ never to get out.”
“That’s Rodney all right, but there isn’t an ounce of fat on him. On either of you,” Sam smiled.
“Jeannie was a bit skinny too, but Auntie Ruthie liked her more so she got treats sometimes.” Carter’s fingers flicked through the sheaf of photos and withdrew a second photo of three stick-thin creatures staring at the lens, the downward slanting mouths were as belligerent as sin. The contrast between the two photos was horrible.
“The…”
“Auntie Ruthie wasn’t well, but she got medication and got better. And then Jeannie and Rodney had to go back and live with her. But I was her only her nephew and I didn’t go back.” Grant looked at her directly. “I think I was the lucky one.”