Cat's In The Cradle
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 does not belong to me.
A/N: A lighthearted little fic that wasn't supposed to be. I started writing and it went in a direction not intended. :P It is indeed lighthearted, but it feels a bit wistful to me as well.
Colonel O'Neill whistled a jaunty tune as he walked down the gray halls of the SGC, the light thud of his boots as it made contact with the ground a familiar and comforting sound to his ears. He got on the next available elevator and took it down to the commissary, the corners of his lips lifting in a cheery grin as he spotted two-thirds of his team loitering about the room.
He got in line and picked up his food — rotisserie chicken, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce today (or something like them; there was something never quite right with military food no matter where he was stationed) — and dropped into a seat beside Daniel. The archaeologist's tray seemed untouched, and by the looks of the thick textbook cradled in Daniel's lap, the colonel reckoned that it hadn't been for quite some time.
"No reading at the table, Daniel," he admonished half-jokingly.
"In a minute," the bespectacled man said absently, flipping a page.
Jack snorted. "Tell that to your chicken," he said, picking up his knife and fork and cutting into his own chicken thigh. He grimaced upon shoving the piece into his mouth. "Actually, maybe you'd rather forgo the chicken," he remarked, shoving a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth next. His grimace deepened as he reached for both the salt and pepper shakers, distributing both to the mound of spuds.
"What's wrong with the chicken?" Daniel asked belatedly, lifting his head to glance at him. He pushed his glasses further up his nose with his pointer finger.
"It's dryer than British humor is what it is," Jack said, tasting his newly seasoned mashed potatoes. He nodded to himself and took another bite.
Daniel continued on reading his book as if Jack had never spoken. The colonel continued to eat his dinner as a comfortable silence settled over the table.
Jack lifted his head as a familiar blonde blur passed by the table. "Carter!" he called out.
His 2IC slowed but didn't stop, raising a parfait cup of jiggling blue Jell-O in greeting. "Sir."
He raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
Carter smiled. "Can't stay, sir. I've got something waiting for me up in the lab."
Beside him, Daniel dropped his fist on the table, a triumphant, "A-ha!" tumbling from his lips. He pushed his chair back and absentmindedly patted Jack on the shoulder, and then headed for the elevator with his nose still stuck in his book.
The colonel huffed just as Teal'c dropped into the seat across from him. "And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon," Jack muttered under his breath.
The Jaffa raised his eyebrow in question.
"Kids," Jack said with a joking smile. "They grow up so fast."
Teal'c's eyes shone as the corners of his lips upturned in one of his slight smiles. "Indeed, O'Neill."