Day Two: Sam___
(This part written by Layton Colt)
"Daniel, be careful," I warn.
"Sure, Sam," he tells me. But he's using the same tone he does when he responds to the Colonel telling him to get a life, or leave the base for a day. Or eat. So I get the impression I'm being humored.
"Daniel, really," I begin.
"I know. I'm being very careful," he reassures me.
His tone, however, is still anything but reassuring. I sigh and resign myself to his methods. It was me, after all, who called for him to come help me. The device he's currently flipping over in his hands was brought back by SG-7 two weeks ago. It's a small rectangle, made almost entirely from naquaada. We aren't sure what it does, or what the writing on it says. But it's my job to figure out the former, and Daniel's the latter.
"It almost looks like Greek," he tells me, carelessly running his fingers over the writings etched on the surface. "But I can't be sure--and it isn't entirely. Perhaps it's a mix of languages, or the results of a Greek culture left to grow and evolve on their own . . ."
My eyes begin to glaze. Nothing like listening to Daniel to realize how the Colonel feels when he's listening to me. Or when he's listening to Daniel. I wince. Poor Colonel O'Neill. No wonder he hates scientists.
"Did you hear me, Sam?" Daniel is asking me.
I look up. "What?" I say.
He sighs. Daniel's used to us. He's gotten in the habit of explaining things more than once. And, on occasion, more than twice.
"It's definitely a variant of ancient Greek. I think I can translate it," he says.
He's such a sweetheart. I love it when he summarizes.
The door to my lab crashes open, that sound quickly followed by a loud 'clap' as the Colonel enters and slaps his hands together. "So what are we doing today, kids?" he asks with a grin.
Daniel winces and turns to face the Colonel. "Tired of playing with your yo-yo already, Jack?" he asks.
The Colonel frowns, obviously trying to decide if he's been insulted or not. With Daniel, it's always hard to tell.
"We're working on the item SG-7 brought back, sir," I put in quickly.
"Ah--what was that one from again? Good ole' PX08395, was it?" he asks with a grin.
Daniel makes a face. "It was PXP8753, Jack," he corrects.
"Yes, well, anyway," the Colonel says. He nods to the item in Daniel's hands. "What's it do?" he asks.
"We aren't sure yet, Jack," Daniel tells him before I get the chance. "That's why we're here, studying it."
I sigh. And take the device from Daniel to place on the counter between us. I love Daniel to pieces, and the Colonel is the best commanding officer I've ever met, let alone served under, but put them together--and you were sure to end up with fireworks.
"Where's Teal'c?" I ask, cutting the Colonels sure to be caustic retort off at the start.
"He's in the gym," he tells me. "I was sparring with him, but he got pissy because I kept winning." He rocks back on his heels and Daniel and I share a look.
The Colonel never won against Teal'c.
No one won against Teal'c.
"Well--you should go get yourself some pie, or something," Daniel says distractedly. He's leaning against the counter now, staring intently at the words on the device, his mouth moving as he attempts to translate.
The Colonel frowns. "The pie doesn't taste as good anymore," he complains.
"At least Urgo is gone, though, sir," I point out. "And in a week we'll be able to return to active duty."
He shrugs. "I'd almost give it all up for another piece of pie that tastes like that piece of pie tasted."
I nod. I could relate. That was the kind of pie one might sell their souls for.
"I just wish we'd had more of a chance to communicate with him," Daniel says. "Learn more about his creators, his purpose--"
"His purpose," the Colonel annunciates clearly. "Was apparently to annoy the hell out of us and make us fat."
I can't help it. I giggled.
The Colonel grins at me, pleased his humor was being appreciated. Daniel rolls his eyes. "Don't you wonder about him at all, Jack? He was a life form, not the kind we're used to, to be sure, but a living, interactive intelligence all the same."
"He was annoying," the Colonel says. As though this alone was enough justify putting an end to his existence.
Daniel shakes his head, giving up on the discussion, and turns his attention back to the device.
"Oh come on, Daniel--you can't honestly tell me you're sorry he's gone. How the hell were we supposed to have lives with a nightmarish imaginary friend following our every move?"
Daniel sighs. "That's just it, Jack. He wasn't imaginary. Maybe he wasn't flesh and blood, but he was real."
I nodded. "I agree with Daniel, sir."
The Colonel rolls his eyes at both of us.
"Jack, why don't you go spar with Teal'c some more?" Daniel asks. "Sam and I are going to be working on this for a couple of days, minimum."
"I thought we could all go eat. We have to eat."
"I'm not hungry, sir," I say quickly.
Daniel nods his agreement. "I had a Fifth Avenue a couple hours ago."
The Colonel grimaces. "You need real food. Both of you. Feed your brains. Come eat--and then I bet you'll come back and figure this thing out in no time." He grins at us then, proud of himself for thinking up such wonderful advice.
"Sorry, Jack. But I don't have time to eat, I think I'm on to something . . ."
The Colonel then looks to me, giving what I've come to interpret as, come on, be the reasonable one--set a good example. Unfortunately, I was with Daniel on this one.
"I'm sorry, sir. But we have to get this done, maybe in a couple of hours . . ."
His face falls and he stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. Sure," he says with a nod.
Daniel glances up at him. "We would, Jack, but--" he begins.
The Colonel cuts him off. "Don't worry about it," he says in a clipped voice. Then he turns to leave the lab.
"I'm sorry, Jack! We'll get something to eat later, okay?" Daniel calls after him. The Colonel doesn't slow down. "Where are you going?"
The Colonel doesn't turn as he responds.
"I'm going to play with my yo-yo."
TBC--let the madness begin . . .
