Checklist (G)
This is the first of the icon prompt ficlets. sela21k gets to go first, which is only fair since she waited twelve months for her last prompt! Jack with a little team silliness, plus Teal'c pwnage, because I can never help it. :)
Summary: Whatever happened to Jack's rule that the team should stick to rations off-world? Set some time in S1 after Brief Candle, but no real spoilers. 730 words. Rated G.
Checklist
Jack cast a wistful glance over his shoulder even as he faded into the shadows of the dining hall. The whoops and cheers as the six-tiered extravagance was borne away toward the main table suggested that no one planned to wait very long to get started. If he wanted a piece, he would have to go through the dreaded checklist in a hurry.
He found Sam leaning against a pillar near the back wall. She glanced up from her quiet conversation with Daniel as he approached, the smile on her face morphing into something Jack pretended wasn't a smirk.
"Is it that time again, sir?" she asked cheerfully.
"Yes, Carter," he grumped. "And let's do it quick, because I'm pretty sure it was chocolate."
"No chocolate here, Jack," Daniel corrected. "We've only found it off-world twice so far, you know. Maybe it's carob, or something like --"
"Yeah, yeah, chocolate is the best barter in the galaxy. But whether it's carob or something else, it looks good." Jack raked an impatient hand through his hair. "So. Checklist."
"Right." With that smirk still hovering at the corners of her mouth, Sam tried to look serious and attentive. "It's not 'only for you,' right?"
"Not unless they think I can eat six tiers at once, no." Jack peered back towards the center of the room, but his view of the main table was blocked by the eager crowds. "Do I have to worry about other drugs or narcotics?"
"No, sir, that shouldn't be a problem. I asked before the feast began -- there's nothing in it that's not common ingredients for the rest of the food, and I've already tested and cleared that."
"Yeah, Sam," Daniel chimed in, his face suddenly schooled into an expression of wicked innocence. "Not like the stuff on P3X-595 that made you -- ow!"
"Oh, was that your foot, Daniel?" Sam asked sweetly. "I didn't realize it was there. I thought it was still in your mouth."
"And there's no alcohol," Jack said hurriedly as Daniel's eyes sparked for battle. "Daniel said they only drink alcohol at funerals, to escort the dead."
Daniel, suddenly diverted from his friendly squabble with Sam, blinked at him in astonishment. "You listened?"
"I listen sometimes!" Jack said defensively. "And anyway, I feel bad for anyone who never gets the chance to kick back with a cold one."
"You know, Jack, the Ancient Egyptians were also awfully fond of --"
"Yes, Daniel. So you've told me many, many times."
Sam cleared her throat loudly. "Not that I want to interrupt this very important conversation, Colonel," she lied, "but it seems to me that covers the regular items on the checklist. Since since this isn't a Goa'uld-occupied world, we don't have to worry about the more unusual possibilities. It should be safe to eat, sir."
"Excellent!" Jack said, ignoring Daniel's automatic eye roll. "Better come and get some yourself, kids, before it's all gone."
"That's all right, sir."
"We're good, Jack."
"Your loss!" Jack called back to them as he hurried to the center of the hall, weaving through the laughing natives and nimbly avoiding multiple collisions. He licked his lips in anticipation. When was the last time he'd had the chance to really enjoy a hefty slice of moist, delicious...?
He stopped and stared.
One piece left out of that entire monstrosity?
Only one?
Even with this eager crowd, how could they possibly devour six huge tiers of cake so quickly?
Recognizing that now was not the time to analyze the proportion of eaters to slices, he homed in on that final slice of cake. Mouth watering, Jack reached across the expanse of tablecloth --
And a hand darted from Jack's left and snatched the final plate of cake from beneath his questing fingers.
"Hey!" Jack began indignantly, whirling on the interloper, then stopped abruptly.
Teal'c, two-tined fork in hand, raised a single eyebrow in polite inquiry. "Was there something you wished, O'Neill?" he asked calmly. He very deliberately cut a corner off the slice of cake and conveyed it to his mouth.
"I just..." Jack's voice trailed off as Teal'c took a second bite. "Nothing," he sighed. He waved a hand in resigned defeat. "Enjoy the cake, Teal'c."
"Thank you, O'Neill. I believe that I will."
Jack jammed his hands into his pockets and stalked away, muttering to himself in disgust.
Stupid checklist.
Summary: Whatever happened to Jack's rule that the team should stick to rations off-world? Set some time in S1 after Brief Candle, but no real spoilers. 730 words. Rated G.
Checklist
Jack cast a wistful glance over his shoulder even as he faded into the shadows of the dining hall. The whoops and cheers as the six-tiered extravagance was borne away toward the main table suggested that no one planned to wait very long to get started. If he wanted a piece, he would have to go through the dreaded checklist in a hurry.
He found Sam leaning against a pillar near the back wall. She glanced up from her quiet conversation with Daniel as he approached, the smile on her face morphing into something Jack pretended wasn't a smirk.
"Is it that time again, sir?" she asked cheerfully.
"Yes, Carter," he grumped. "And let's do it quick, because I'm pretty sure it was chocolate."
"No chocolate here, Jack," Daniel corrected. "We've only found it off-world twice so far, you know. Maybe it's carob, or something like --"
"Yeah, yeah, chocolate is the best barter in the galaxy. But whether it's carob or something else, it looks good." Jack raked an impatient hand through his hair. "So. Checklist."
"Right." With that smirk still hovering at the corners of her mouth, Sam tried to look serious and attentive. "It's not 'only for you,' right?"
"Not unless they think I can eat six tiers at once, no." Jack peered back towards the center of the room, but his view of the main table was blocked by the eager crowds. "Do I have to worry about other drugs or narcotics?"
"No, sir, that shouldn't be a problem. I asked before the feast began -- there's nothing in it that's not common ingredients for the rest of the food, and I've already tested and cleared that."
"Yeah, Sam," Daniel chimed in, his face suddenly schooled into an expression of wicked innocence. "Not like the stuff on P3X-595 that made you -- ow!"
"Oh, was that your foot, Daniel?" Sam asked sweetly. "I didn't realize it was there. I thought it was still in your mouth."
"And there's no alcohol," Jack said hurriedly as Daniel's eyes sparked for battle. "Daniel said they only drink alcohol at funerals, to escort the dead."
Daniel, suddenly diverted from his friendly squabble with Sam, blinked at him in astonishment. "You listened?"
"I listen sometimes!" Jack said defensively. "And anyway, I feel bad for anyone who never gets the chance to kick back with a cold one."
"You know, Jack, the Ancient Egyptians were also awfully fond of --"
"Yes, Daniel. So you've told me many, many times."
Sam cleared her throat loudly. "Not that I want to interrupt this very important conversation, Colonel," she lied, "but it seems to me that covers the regular items on the checklist. Since since this isn't a Goa'uld-occupied world, we don't have to worry about the more unusual possibilities. It should be safe to eat, sir."
"Excellent!" Jack said, ignoring Daniel's automatic eye roll. "Better come and get some yourself, kids, before it's all gone."
"That's all right, sir."
"We're good, Jack."
"Your loss!" Jack called back to them as he hurried to the center of the hall, weaving through the laughing natives and nimbly avoiding multiple collisions. He licked his lips in anticipation. When was the last time he'd had the chance to really enjoy a hefty slice of moist, delicious...?
He stopped and stared.
One piece left out of that entire monstrosity?
Only one?
Even with this eager crowd, how could they possibly devour six huge tiers of cake so quickly?
Recognizing that now was not the time to analyze the proportion of eaters to slices, he homed in on that final slice of cake. Mouth watering, Jack reached across the expanse of tablecloth --
And a hand darted from Jack's left and snatched the final plate of cake from beneath his questing fingers.
"Hey!" Jack began indignantly, whirling on the interloper, then stopped abruptly.
Teal'c, two-tined fork in hand, raised a single eyebrow in polite inquiry. "Was there something you wished, O'Neill?" he asked calmly. He very deliberately cut a corner off the slice of cake and conveyed it to his mouth.
"I just..." Jack's voice trailed off as Teal'c took a second bite. "Nothing," he sighed. He waved a hand in resigned defeat. "Enjoy the cake, Teal'c."
"Thank you, O'Neill. I believe that I will."
Jack jammed his hands into his pockets and stalked away, muttering to himself in disgust.
Stupid checklist.