TITLE: The Trouble with Teal'c AUTHOR: Cyn(di) EMAIL: custardpringle@yahoo.com RATING: PG for language, non-human cannibalism CATEGORY: drama, humor, crossover SUMMARY: Teal'c finds a new pet. 'Gate/Trek crossover. SPOILERS: I hope not. AUTHOR'S NOTE: No, Jack's stapler fetish has nothing to do with the actual plot. In fact, it has nothing to do with anything. And I don't know whether Teal'c has an apartment or not, but it was convenient for me to pretend, so don't hurt me. Please. I don't own these people. Wish I did, but I don't.
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Teal'c walked into Daniel's office, narrowly avoiding a stack of large boxes near the door. "Good morning, Daniel Jackson."

The archaeologist looked up from his translations. "Morning, Teal'c."

"Why do you have these enormous boxes of snack food in your office?" the Jaffa inquired, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Oh . . . those. That's a stockpile of potato chips I found in a closet down the hall. Nobody else seemed to want any. You can have them if you want."

"Daniel Jackson, I do not believe this is acceptable breakfast food."

"It doesn't matter," Daniel groaned. "Just take them. I don't think I can finish them on my own before they go stale."

Teal'c ate a chip cautiously, then consumed another handful with relish. "Thank you. These are quite good."

-----

Thirty-six hours later, SG-1 was seated at the briefing room table with an extremely disgruntled General Hammond.

"You see, sir," Jack was explaining, "there was a very good reason why we couldn't explore the planet. Really."

"And what might that be, Colonel?"

"Well, actually, ah . . . you won't believe this, General, " Jackson interjected nervously.

"Out with it, Doctor," Hammond frowned. "What happened?"

"The ground was completely covered in heaps of small furry creatures. We couldn't have gone anywhere without crushing them. It was lucky that I could even get to the DHD to get us home."

The General turned to look at Carter. "Major, do you have any idea why the MALP showed no sign of these things when we sent it through?"

"None at all, sir," she said bemusedly. "But when we arrived, the probe was partly buried in the, um, animals."

"Tribbles," said Jack suddenly. Everyone stared at him.

"Sir?" said Sam in astonishment.

"Those were tribbles. There's no other way to describe them."

"Are these the same 'tribbles' that have appeared on Star Trek?" asked Teal'c curiously.

Jackson nodded. "Jack, I think you've gotten this guy a little too into that show . . . "

"Allow me to explain, Daniel Jackson," the Jaffa interrupted. "I found the purring of these animals to be quite soothing and brought one back with me, believing it to be a potential aid in meditation."

"It should have been turned over to Doctor Fraiser for examination first," Hammond said.

Teal'c nodded. "That is precisely why I chose to conceal it. I did not believe that possession of such an item would be condoned."

"Whoa, T," Jack groaned. "You've only been here a few years and you're already learning to cheat the system. Hey, Daniel, what's up? You look kinda sick."

Daniel had paled. "Teal'c, is the tribble in your room right now?"

"Indeed it is."

"Along with the potato chips I gave you yesterday?"

"That is correct. Is there a problem?"

"You could say that, yeah."

Understanding flashed on O'Neill's face. "Don't you remember that episode, T?"

"Yes," Teal'c nodded. "It would appear that we do indeed have a problem."

"Wait a minute," Sam said in alarm. "What's going on here?"

"Carter," explained Jack patiently," a tribble left alone with food produces more tribbles. Fast."

She stood up in a hurry, followed by the rest of the team. "We'd better get down there."

"Please do so, SG-1. Teal'c, once this has been resolved, I'll be wanting to have a word with you."

There was no response, and General Hammond realized that the people he was addressing were gone. He was talking to an empty conference room.

-----

Barely two minutes later, SG-1 was racing down the corridor to Teal'c's room. Sam arrived first, opened the door, and confirmed their worst fears. "There are a lot of tribbles in here. A few hundred, I'd say."

O'Neill groaned theatrically. "For crying out loud, T, what were you thinking? You're even more of a Star Trek fan than I am. You should've known better."

The Jaffa looked at him. "That is true, O'Neill. However, it is also true that you have informed me many times of the show's wholly fictitious nature. The thought did occur to me momentarily, but I dismissed it as absurd." Unnoticed, a young, adventurous tribble edged towards them.

"Great. Just great," Jack sighed. "Pin it on me, why don't you? And where did all these potato chips come from? What do you have to say for yourself, Daniel?"

"Don't try to blame me, Jack. I found a huge stock of them in a storage room and shared with Teal'c. How was I supposed to know he'd decide to adopt a tribble?"

"Damn." Still determined to find a scapegoat, the colonel whirled on Sam. "What about you, Carter?" Two more tribbles joined the first.

"Me, sir?" asked the visibly startled major. "I had nothing whatsoever to do with this."

He shrugged. "Well, since Teal'c and Daniel and I have each taken the blame for this mess in turn, I thought you might like to join in the fun."

"Thanks, sir, but no thanks."

"On the good side," Jackson pointed out, "thgey're all confined here. We can keep them contained until we return them to their own planet." As he spoke, the three wayward tribbles slipped between his legs and wandered down the hall.

"Yeah, sure," Jack assented. "Let's just get rid of them as soon as possible. God knows what'll happen if they get out."

-----

The valiant escapees separated somewhere down the corridor. One fell asleep and was captured by an alert Trekker airman who took it to Dr. Fraiser to be quarantined. Another was found by a somewhat more ignorant soldier who said, "Hey, you must be somebody's pet. Amazing what they find off-world. I'll just let you stay in my quarters until I find out whose you are."

Admittedly, this was fairly accurate, if not particularly wise.

The third tribble hit the jackpot: the storage room where Daniel had found his potato chips. In what passed for thinking in a tribble brain (or lack thereof) it reasoned thus: a) This place contained a large quantity of edible material. Therefore, b) many tribbles could live here. Instinct provided the natural conclusion: c)many tribbles had to be produced.