Chapter 4: Celebrate!
Sam had determined which hat Teal'c was going to wear, and all of them followed suit by donning black knitted caps. Even General Hammond.
Once at the tavern, which was surprisingly crowded for mid-week, they really "let their hair down" and partied. Even Teal'c displayed a lack of decorum, although he wasn't able to blame his brew – ginger ale – for it.
The gang completely monopolized one of the pool tables. Several times Carter "whupped" them soundly, eliciting low whistles and congrats from everyone but O'Neill. He always hated to lose.
The comrades-at-arms swapped stories with relish, usually but not always remembering to edit them for classified information, although considering the din of the tavern, most likely no one would've heard anything. Or believed the stories if they had heard.
Reliving the Tok'ra armband incident was a given, of course. "Remember the face on that waitress when we ordered three..." here Daniel silently corrected him, holding up four fingers ... "four steak dinners each?" said Jack, grabbing a handful of popcorn.
"Yeah, well, how about the look on the face of that guy who called me 'Geek,' when I sent him flying across the room?" reminisced Daniel with relish.
"None of those guys knew what hit them," added Sam. "We really kicked butt together that night."
The General could've offered his side of the story, the strings he had to pull to get the charges dropped, the aggravation and the paperwork. But he didn't. After all, they had been under the influence of alien technology and could hardly be held accountable for their actions.
Closing time came all too soon for this bunch. Out in the parking lot...
"Carter!" Jack called out. She turned. "Got something here for you, a copy of what I gave Hammond." He pressed the folded square of paper into her palm. "Let me know what you think," he added.
She nodded. "Yes, sir, I'll check it out."
Was he looking for a critique? Or, considering what had happened, or rather didn't happen, at the meeting, was something else going on?
Sam thought about this all the way home. In fact, she thought of nothing else. As soon as she hit the first light in her house, she quickly unfolded the paper. The title popped out at her.
No Time for Us
Time, time, time and again
get those g'oulds, get all of 'em.
No time for us.
Time for torture, time for death.
Run for it, can't catch your breath.
No time for us.
Help those people relocate,
Quickly now, right through the gate.
No time for us.
Always bad guys on the scene,
Super bad and super mean –
So no time for us.
Time to save the world (and, Babe, you are my world), but...
No time for us.
Her eyes brimmed with tears. One dropped on Jack's scrawled signature, sinking into the paper and spreading the ink. Then she noticed the p.s. – "Let's talk," with a tiny heart penned next to it.
Slowly, she refolded the paper and slid it into her pants pocket, her hand holding it close against her side. We will.
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