Disclaimer: Of course I didn't create any of these characters, shows, ect… I own nothing and get no $$ but I do have fun playing with them ;)
Buffy-verse - takes place Season 2 after What's My Line 1 + 2;
Star-Gate - early seasons where every your heart is content to stick them.
All mistakes are mine; if any one is interested in Beta-ing I'd appreciate it.
1.
"Daniel, will you tell Carter how much fun we're going to have fishing in MInnesota?"
Daniel looked up from his texts, fingers holding his places in two separate books, to see Jack and Sam in his doorway, Sam looking rather like Jack had shanghaied her on her way to her own lab. Sam was regarding Jack with badly concealed irritation, which, Daniel supposed, was as vocal as Sam would be to her CO that she wasn't going for whatever Jack had up his sleeve.
"We're, ah, going fishing?" Daniel turned his gaze back to Jack, Jack wearing one of his forcefully happy grins.
" 'Course we are Jackson. What else do men do when given a week of leave? Teal'c is already packing…"
Daniel resisted rolling his eyes, "That's because you've never dragged Teal'c out to your pond in the middle of no where, set him up with a pole, and let him sit with his line out before finally admitting after four days there are no fish in the pond…"
Jack huffed in irritation, "Lake, Daniel… and I keep telling you, the joy of fishing is fishing, that's why it's called fishing, not catching."
Daniel flicked his eyes to Sam during Jack's theatrical defense of his notion of fishing; Sam had one of her looks she seemed to keep in stock for Jack, one that said she found it amusing, enduring even, but that if she was going fishing she was coming back with something to show for her time… And knowing Sam, she would catch nothing less than a fish worth mounting.
"Jack, as much as I enjoy the great Minnesotan outdoors, I've made other plans."
Jack swung his gaze to Sam and she simply shrugged her shoulders, both turning back to Daniel, waiting for him to share: "I'm going to visit an old friend, recently moved to California."
"Daniel, you old dog, you have friends? You meet on a dig in some dry, sandy place in your past?" Jack grinned.
"No, a damp, foggy one: England; London actually" Daniel supplied. "He was the curator of the British Museum."
Interest fled from Jack's gaze but Sam still looked on, attentive. "Ah, well, you don't know what you're missing" Jack chastised, turning to Sam, opening his mouth as she crisply cut him off, "You and Teal'c enjoy your fishing, Sir."
"You don't know how relaxing it can be until you try it…" Jack enticed.
Sam lifted her armful of binders, books, and paperwork, "Maybe next time. I've promised myself some time to work of the implications of the technology we found of P3X-223 and see if I can develop any practical applications for - "
"Carter, enough; Daniel, we leave tonight if you change your mind…"
Daniel shook his head, "No. I have a few of my own projects" Daniel nodded to a box partially packed with texts, one that these two would eventually make their way into.
Jack made a disgusted noise, "No one here knows what a vacation is… One day" Jack threatened, waiving his finger around, "One day I'm going to make all four of us go on a vacation and it will be mandatory. I'll have Hammond make it orders. I know he likes fishing…" Jack turned heal, moving off down the hallway.
Daniel and Sam shared a look. "How long to you think Teal'c will last?"
Sam smiled, "Teal'c might like it. Or, he'll force Jack to take him back to civilization with in forty-eight hours. To bad they don't charter something, go to the boundary waters where the real fishing is."
Daniel grinned, "I think I have a book somewhere about the boundary waters. I'll give it to him before I go."
Sam met Daniel's wolfish smile with her own, "Might do Jack some good. Or Teal'c might enjoy seeing Lake Superior. Swing by my office before you go see Teal'c off."
Daniel nodded, "Will do. And enjoy your week off, Sam."
Sam shifted her load, "You do the same. What are you working on?"
"I've kept records of some native languages that I've had problems translating. I seem to be on the right track, but grammar and the contextual markers aren't landing in any coherence… Giles always had rather a genius for ancient and esoteric languages, I'm hoping he and I might put our heads together and come up with something…"
"And where will you tell him the text is from?"
He shared a commiserating look with her, "He'll respect when I say I can't say."
Sam raised a brow, "I don't know many who will back off finding the source of something as fascinating as what we bring back"
Daniel relaxed forward, leaning on his forearms and keeping his fingers in their places, remembering his friend: "Giles will. He is a man, I sense, who respects secrets."
Sam considered Daniel, considered this, "He was the curator of the British Museum?"
Daniel nodded.
"What is he doing in California?"
Daniel grinned, recognizing Sam picking up pieces to a new puzzle. "I never asked. We've kept in touch, writing back and forth, trading bits of translations over the years. I wrote him when I returned from Abydos. After a couple of months he wrote back saying he had just moved state side, sending a new address."
"Is he in L.A.?"
"No, a small town on the coast up the 101, a couple of hours north of LA; Sunnydale." Daniel dangled another bit of the puzzle that was Giles in front of her. He'd always enjoyed the man's company, Giles being one of the few he'd tried his theories of Egyptian Pyramids originating in outer space. Giles had sipped his scotch, nodded along, fiddled with his glasses, rolled up his sleeves and pointed out occasional inaccuracies in his Egyptian translations but listened and nodded and "hmmm"ed along, letting Daniel into any vault he wanted with in the museum and even providing access to some storage Daniel wouldn't have know to ask for.
Giles had never ripped the idea to shreds, although Daniel always left with the feeling Giles knew things he wasn't sharing; like how he'd never weighed in one way or the other on Daniel's revolutionary hypothesis… like how he'd never even seemed to have an opinion on the radical hypothesis. Like Daniel had said, Giles was a man who respected secrets… And Sam was, at heart, someone who thoroughly enjoyed diving the source of things and understanding mysteries.
"Sunnydale?" She repeated.
Daniel didn't doubt she'd en-mass a small search around Giles, The British Museum, and Sunnydale. He wondered what she'd find. He nodded, "Sunnydale."
"Sounds like a nice place to spend your week off." Sam smiled at him. "Enjoy the beach and sun."
Daniel had a brief, horrifying mental vision of himself shirtless in tropical, brightly colored board shorts, standing beside a blunt surf board, and the beach boys blasting in the background. And then one of Giles, similarly dressed, stiff and british beside him, perhaps muttering "Good Lord, Man" at Daniel for producing such an image in his head.
Daniel came back to Sam taking her leave, and Daniel turned back to his texts, trying to forget what his brain had just thrown up inside his head. Truly disturbing; what ever Giles was doing, Daniel doubted Giles had thrown off his head to become a Cali beach bum. He thought, if there was ever an event overwhelming enough for Giles to throw his hands up at God and turn away from man, Giles would retire himself to a small cottage on the foggy coasts of England and drink himself to uselessness; not don neon colored apparel, tan, and flirt up women in the unrelenting cheeriness of California. There were just certain things a british man didn't do; at least not that one…
