He'd developed his first secret language at the age of twelve, when his friends in school had wanted to hide a list of their crushes from the girls. As a late-bloomer, he really didn't care about the romance, but he found that the challenge of hiding meaning within something so easily recognizable held an addictive allure even then. The girls had eventually captured a copy of the key, but it had still been a fun game, one he'd play for years.
Now, as an adult fluent in six languages and competent in a dozen more, that tingle of excitement still affected him. As he put the last jot and tittle on the codex, he felt it once again. Only, unlike his earlier attempts made over the years, this one was replete with grammar and syntax. The irregular verbs had been the most challenging — giving him nervous indigestion on more than one late night, as he contemplated dropping them completely — and making sure not to replicate the structure of any known language had made it even harder. He'd even gone so far as to make his own phonetics system.
Oh yes, for over six years he'd worked on the concept of his language — using shore leave, holidays, and sick-time — and turned his mind to the pursuit of something he'd likely never share with anyone. But he found it fun and relaxing in the same way other people found fishing, reading fiction, or playing chess fun. He sat in the mess hall, triumphant and beaming at the work, and smiled as Ben Krieg sat down at the table beside him.
"You look uncharacteristically chipper. What's going on?"
"Oh, it's just a hobby project I've been working on," O'Neill said as he reached for his drink. It was closer than he'd expected and his hand knocked over the cup, spilling the contents on his notebook. His smile fell as Ben scrambled back, rescuing his lunch tray before fleeing the table. Tim sat stunned, watching the ink smear the table and fade as the ice tea soaked through the paper.
"I hope that wasn't something important," Ben said, returning with a cleaning cloth.
"Well, it's a setback," Tim said, finally snapping back to reality. "The fun part was putting it together in the first place, but thankfully it's all up here." He tapped his forehead.
Ben eyed the soggy notebook and the one hundred sheets of soaked through paper with a raised eyebrow.
Tim chuckled at his skeptical co-worker. "That's the great thing about languages, Ben; it's always with you. No equipment necessary."
A/N: My thanks to Scorp, for her second set of eyes.