Ficlet.
Another ficlet request for lyssie, who wanted Hammond and a puppy. G. No spoilers.
It was, George Hammond admitted, one of the more harmless-looking things SG-1 had brought back over the years. Granted, he'd learned the hard way to reserve judgment on harmless, and in this particular case, was reserving judgment until Dr. Fraiser made sure it didn't have fleas.
"I think he likes you, General." O'Neill stood with the rest of SG-1 at the foot of the Gate ramp.
"We tried to refuse, General," Jackson added, "but breeding them is the Dolaran's passion, and I was afraid we were offending him. And with the amount of naquedah at stake…"
Hammond waved off his apologetic explanation. "I understand, Dr. Jackson," he said, even as the six-legged, four-tailed puppy-thing at his feet slobbered all over his pantleg with a tongue as big as its own head.
"At least it's cute, in a scientifically-curious sort of way." Hammond saw Major Carter bump O'Neill with her elbow when he snorted and said, "What, are you going to dissect it, Carter?"
Leaving ropy strings of saliva festooned around Hammond's knees, the puppy-thing wriggled its behind, tails a whirring blur. Carter was right; it had a peculiar charm. It was too bad it would have to live in the science labs. Kayla and Tessa would adore it.
"Shall I take it to the infirmary, General Hammond?"
"Thank you, Teal'c, yes."
At Teal'c's approach the puppy-thing squawked, the brash sound deafening for something so small. Crowding back against Hammond's legs, it urinated a foul stream all over his shoes.
Teal'c beat a stately retreat to a strategic position behind O'Neill, who blanched as Hammond toed off his shoes, careful not to step in the speading puddle. At his feet, the puppy-thing cowered, and Hammond sighed at its pathetic demeanor. He scratched it behind the ears and then gently scooped it up. It wriggled against his chest and hooted a deafening peal of joy in his ear, the sound eerily reminiscient of his brother-in-law's laughter after a few too many beers. It looked a little like Myron, too.
"Uh, General..."
"Colonel, you brought it home, you clean up after it," Hammond said, scratching Myron under the chin as he strode out the blast doors in his stocking feet.
Previous ficlet requests:
Say Goodbye to Broadway
Untitled Jack/Daniel
"Victory Fries" Sam/Jack
"31 Flavors" Jack/Teal'c
It was, George Hammond admitted, one of the more harmless-looking things SG-1 had brought back over the years. Granted, he'd learned the hard way to reserve judgment on harmless, and in this particular case, was reserving judgment until Dr. Fraiser made sure it didn't have fleas.
"I think he likes you, General." O'Neill stood with the rest of SG-1 at the foot of the Gate ramp.
"We tried to refuse, General," Jackson added, "but breeding them is the Dolaran's passion, and I was afraid we were offending him. And with the amount of naquedah at stake…"
Hammond waved off his apologetic explanation. "I understand, Dr. Jackson," he said, even as the six-legged, four-tailed puppy-thing at his feet slobbered all over his pantleg with a tongue as big as its own head.
"At least it's cute, in a scientifically-curious sort of way." Hammond saw Major Carter bump O'Neill with her elbow when he snorted and said, "What, are you going to dissect it, Carter?"
Leaving ropy strings of saliva festooned around Hammond's knees, the puppy-thing wriggled its behind, tails a whirring blur. Carter was right; it had a peculiar charm. It was too bad it would have to live in the science labs. Kayla and Tessa would adore it.
"Shall I take it to the infirmary, General Hammond?"
"Thank you, Teal'c, yes."
At Teal'c's approach the puppy-thing squawked, the brash sound deafening for something so small. Crowding back against Hammond's legs, it urinated a foul stream all over his shoes.
Teal'c beat a stately retreat to a strategic position behind O'Neill, who blanched as Hammond toed off his shoes, careful not to step in the speading puddle. At his feet, the puppy-thing cowered, and Hammond sighed at its pathetic demeanor. He scratched it behind the ears and then gently scooped it up. It wriggled against his chest and hooted a deafening peal of joy in his ear, the sound eerily reminiscient of his brother-in-law's laughter after a few too many beers. It looked a little like Myron, too.
"Uh, General..."
"Colonel, you brought it home, you clean up after it," Hammond said, scratching Myron under the chin as he strode out the blast doors in his stocking feet.
Previous ficlet requests:
Say Goodbye to Broadway
Untitled Jack/Daniel
"Victory Fries" Sam/Jack
"31 Flavors" Jack/Teal'c