Fic: Malek's Sock (SG-1)
Something silly. It's all Tels' fault. Really, it is. :)
After dressing in the usual brown uniform, Malek knelt to grab a pair of socks from his clothes chest. He found a brown one on top, but it had no mate. He rooted around for the other one, and when he didn't see it immediately, took a black one instead.
But it was folded with one that was more dark grey than black and didn't actually match. The next sock he found had faded to slightly
bluish.
None of them matched each other.
*No one is going to see them in our boots,* his host reminded him.
He was not going to wear non-matching socks. It was ridiculous, anyway. Where had they gone? It was as if someone had rooted through his clothes chest while he'd been away these past six weeks.
*Now you're being dramatic,* there was a strong sense of amusement at his expense drifting to him.
*Then you explain why we have no socks that match.*
*Poor laundering technique? Or perhaps... oh, I know-- an ashrak came and took one of each just to annoy you!* Had his host been in
control, he would've been chortling.
As it was, the amusement was intolerable. Malek shut it out and decided to pick beige socks. He normally wore the beige socks with
the desert uniform, but in this case, he would make an exception. Surely they were all the same color.
But they weren't.
There were three different shades of beige and two different lengths. And none of them matched another one.
He balled up all the socks and threw them across the room in a fit of pique. *Eighteen hundred years old and now I can never find a pair of socks. My undershirts go missing, and I receive other people's tunics. I never had these problems with the laundry before you.*
*It's Anubis,* his host assured him, practically giggling, *A very evil plot to ruin your day and make you look bad.*
*It makes you look bad, too,* Malek reminded his host, ignoring the rest of the comment.
His host was scornful. *As if I care whether our socks match.*
*Oh, be quiet.*
Feeling sullen, Malek brooded on the problem, wondering if he should go without socks altogether. But the boots were not that
comfortable, and though he could heal any blisters without much trouble, it was the annoyance of having to do so in the first place
that bothered him more.
He picked the two beige ones that were the closest in color and decided he would keep his boots on, no matter what happened.
Out in the Council chamber, he found Garshaw, Anise, Sina, and Jalen drinking tea. They all turned their heads to look at him, and for a moment, none of them spoke.
He nodded his head to them in polite greeting. "Good day."
Garshaw nodded back, smiling. "Malek. Welcome back. Thoran has some questions to put to you about the Jaffa tretonin project. He is in the research lab."
He thanked her and left, preoccupied with what Thoran wanted to know this time.
Behind him, the four women watched him leave. Sina murmured, with a sigh, "Oh yes, we are definitely glad he's back."
"That's a view I would enjoy all day long," Jalen added, licking her lips in appreciation.
Anise leaned forward as if to confide a great secret, and whispered, "I entered his room while he was away and I took a sock. Freya likes
to keep it under our pillow."
Jalen laughed. "We did the same!"
Sina shook her head, ruefully, and pulled something out of the pocket of her tunic and laid it on the table. It was a brown sock. "We
carry it around," she confessed. "And we keep his undershirt in our bed."
"Oh, you are all the most absurd Tok'ra to ever live in the tunnels," Garshaw declared, standing up and rolling her eyes. "Taking socks and shirts! Really, how ridiculous."
As she swept in her regal fashion toward the exit, the other three lowered their heads in chagrin and embarrassment.
At the mouth of the tunnel, Garshaw turned, flashing a grin, and she advised,
"If you intend on taking a memento, take something large. His tunic is very comfortable to sleep in."
And she walked out, leaving three shocked Tok'ra in her wake.
end
After dressing in the usual brown uniform, Malek knelt to grab a pair of socks from his clothes chest. He found a brown one on top, but it had no mate. He rooted around for the other one, and when he didn't see it immediately, took a black one instead.
But it was folded with one that was more dark grey than black and didn't actually match. The next sock he found had faded to slightly
bluish.
None of them matched each other.
*No one is going to see them in our boots,* his host reminded him.
He was not going to wear non-matching socks. It was ridiculous, anyway. Where had they gone? It was as if someone had rooted through his clothes chest while he'd been away these past six weeks.
*Now you're being dramatic,* there was a strong sense of amusement at his expense drifting to him.
*Then you explain why we have no socks that match.*
*Poor laundering technique? Or perhaps... oh, I know-- an ashrak came and took one of each just to annoy you!* Had his host been in
control, he would've been chortling.
As it was, the amusement was intolerable. Malek shut it out and decided to pick beige socks. He normally wore the beige socks with
the desert uniform, but in this case, he would make an exception. Surely they were all the same color.
But they weren't.
There were three different shades of beige and two different lengths. And none of them matched another one.
He balled up all the socks and threw them across the room in a fit of pique. *Eighteen hundred years old and now I can never find a pair of socks. My undershirts go missing, and I receive other people's tunics. I never had these problems with the laundry before you.*
*It's Anubis,* his host assured him, practically giggling, *A very evil plot to ruin your day and make you look bad.*
*It makes you look bad, too,* Malek reminded his host, ignoring the rest of the comment.
His host was scornful. *As if I care whether our socks match.*
*Oh, be quiet.*
Feeling sullen, Malek brooded on the problem, wondering if he should go without socks altogether. But the boots were not that
comfortable, and though he could heal any blisters without much trouble, it was the annoyance of having to do so in the first place
that bothered him more.
He picked the two beige ones that were the closest in color and decided he would keep his boots on, no matter what happened.
Out in the Council chamber, he found Garshaw, Anise, Sina, and Jalen drinking tea. They all turned their heads to look at him, and for a moment, none of them spoke.
He nodded his head to them in polite greeting. "Good day."
Garshaw nodded back, smiling. "Malek. Welcome back. Thoran has some questions to put to you about the Jaffa tretonin project. He is in the research lab."
He thanked her and left, preoccupied with what Thoran wanted to know this time.
Behind him, the four women watched him leave. Sina murmured, with a sigh, "Oh yes, we are definitely glad he's back."
"That's a view I would enjoy all day long," Jalen added, licking her lips in appreciation.
Anise leaned forward as if to confide a great secret, and whispered, "I entered his room while he was away and I took a sock. Freya likes
to keep it under our pillow."
Jalen laughed. "We did the same!"
Sina shook her head, ruefully, and pulled something out of the pocket of her tunic and laid it on the table. It was a brown sock. "We
carry it around," she confessed. "And we keep his undershirt in our bed."
"Oh, you are all the most absurd Tok'ra to ever live in the tunnels," Garshaw declared, standing up and rolling her eyes. "Taking socks and shirts! Really, how ridiculous."
As she swept in her regal fashion toward the exit, the other three lowered their heads in chagrin and embarrassment.
At the mouth of the tunnel, Garshaw turned, flashing a grin, and she advised,
"If you intend on taking a memento, take something large. His tunic is very comfortable to sleep in."
And she walked out, leaving three shocked Tok'ra in her wake.
end