Day Five: Teal'c____
(This part written by both of us)
The Tauri are a strange people indeed. This game, this 'Twister' is most intriguing. I along with the rest of SG-1 spent the previous night with this game. Though amusing, I'm not sure I wish to play it again.
We travel through the Stargate so that we may fight to defeat the Goa'uld. However, I find when we are not currently on a mission, the members of SG1 revert back to their pre-adult selves. Daniel Jackson and O'Neill much more so than Major Carter.
This game of Twister for example. It is not something I would have believed mature humans to enjoy taking part in. However, it seems that these 'games' serve to bond friendships here on Earth. Unlike O'Neill's game of sparring which does little more than serve to injure one of the participants as he did to Daniel Jackson yesterday. Something that disturbs me greatly even now. I cannot comprehend why he would use his advantage in the match to cause Daniel Jackson such harm.
I am ashamed to have taken part in Major Ferretti's betting. I received my winnings but they are tainted. I feel I must find Daniel Jackson and apologize. It seems that Daniel Jackson has already forgiven O'Neill. But I believe, on this occasion, Daniel Jackson may have been too quick to forgive O'Neill.
I rise to my feet and head towards Daniel Jackson's office. As I suspected, he is there, working at his desk--despite Dr. Frasier's orders for him to rest. And he is taking a sip of coffee from his mug--despite Dr. Frasier's orders for him to consume no caffeine. He can at times be as stubborn as O'Neill. Doctor Fraiser's orders are meant to help their bodies heal, and yet they disregard them.
I step into Daniel Jackson's office, he has yet to notice my presence. "Daniel Jackson."
He looks up at me distractedly, before his eyes roll back down to the book laying open on his desk. "Oh, hi, Teal'c."
"Are you not supposed to be resting as per Doctor Fraiser's orders?"
"She told me to rest last night."
"You did not."
Daniel Jackson looks up then. "I did a little."
I raise my eyebrow. "I believe Doctor Fraiser intended you to rest more than 'a little'."
"Well, I'd already rested a lot. In the infirmary," he tells me.
"I see." I know not to try and argue with Daniel Jackson about such matters. The result is always the same.
"Um . . . did you need something else, Teal'c? Because I'm kind of--"
"I have come seeking your forgiveness, Daniel Jackson."
He frowns. "My . . . what? Why?"
I walk towards his desk, placing the 50 dollars I had won in front of him. "I am ashamed of my actions yesterday, Daniel Jackson."
Daniel Jackson looks at the money in confusion. "You didn't do anything, Teal'c . . ."
"I should not have placed a wager against you, nor should I have allowed O'Neill to harm you."
"We were sparring, Teal'c. Sometimes people get hurt. Jack does all the time."
"He took advantage of your concern for him."
Daniel Jackson winces. "I'm sure he just wanted to remind me not to let my guard down during battle."
"Perhaps."
He pushes his book aside and meets my gaze. "You have nothing to apologize for, Teal'c, but if it will make you feel better--then I forgive you. And I'm not taking your money."
"Thank you, Daniel Jackson. I will leave you to rest." I turn to leave, knowing he will not, purposely leaving the money on his desk.
"Teal'c!" Daniel Jackson calls after me, but I do not turn.
I spend much time on this base--and so the confinement here has not been as hard on me as it has on the others. Or I should say, as it has been on O'Neill. However, I find I am at a loss as to what I should do. I walk down the halls in search of O'Neill, I am sure to find him not currently occupied.
I reach his quarters and knock, waiting for him to beckon me inside. Opening the door, I find O'Neill again playing with this child's toy he calls a yo-yo. "Hey, T, what's up?"
I frown. As usual, O'Neill makes little sense. Unsure of the proper response to such an obvious question, I choose to ignore it. "Do you wish to join me in a sparring match, O'Neill?" I ask as I clasp my hands behind my back.
O'Neill looks at me with a critical eye. I believe he is unsure of my intentions. "Um . . . sure. Winner buys pizza as soon as we're sprung?"
"Is it not the custom that the loser should buy the pizza, O'Neill?" I ask.
"Alright, fine. I'll buy the pizza." O'Neill tosses the yo-yo onto his desk.
I smile. "You may yet win a match against me, O'Neill." This was not necessarily true.
He raises an eyebrow. "Yeahseryoubetcha." He then stands and I turn to lead the way to the gym.
"The bruise on Daniel Jackson's forehead is quite large," I say casually.
"Yeah, that turnbuckle is pretty hard."
"Especially when thrown into it with such force," I say. My tone has become considerably less casual.
"He wasn't thrown, Teal'c, he tripped."
"He tripped because he was thrown, O'Neill."
"He tripped because he let his guard down and was tapped by my glove."
"O'Neill, are you suggesting that Daniel Jackson is to blame for his injury?" I ask darkly.
"What? No, of course not," he quickly responds. He is again looking at me warily.
"If Daniel Jackson is not to blame, O'Neill--then who do you believe is?"
"No one is to blame really, Teal'c. I mean it was kind of Daniel's idea to spar, but I admit I was a little caught up in what I was doing, I saw the opening and took it. I didn't mean to actually have Daniel get hurt."
One part of O'Neill's ramblings stand out and I raise an eyebrow. "It was Daniel Jackson's idea to spare?" I find this extremely hard to believe.
"OK well, maybe he didn't say he wanted to spar, but technically I didn't ask him to."
"Indeed." I do believe that O'Neill would not ask. He probably told Daniel Jackson that they would spar.
"And no, I didn't tell him we had to spar. I know what you're thinking, Teal'c," he comments as he begins to change into his sparring clothes. "Daniel needs to get in a little more training, it's good for him, better than sitting in that stuffy office surrounded by all those dusty rocks."
"I believe the only thing Daniel Jackson has learned from this--is to be wary of sparring with you," I say.
"Oh I think he's learned a little more than that, like never letting his guard down." I see a small smirk on O'Neill's face as he bends to tie his shoes.
We finish putting on our gear and enter the ring. O'Neill immediately begins to bounce on the balls of his feet. Hitting the air with his gloves. "OK, Teal'c, whenever you're ready."
I hit him swiftly, connecting with his side. I am ready.
O'Neill begins to move around the ring. He is blocking some of my punches, but has yet to have the opportunity to try to hit me. I smile in satisfaction. I see Daniel Jackson enter through the door, he walks quietly over to watch. O'Neill seems unaware of his entrance. "Come on, Teal'c, that all you got?" O'Neill is obviously being sarcastic. I am tempted to end this quickly, but Daniel Jackson seems to be enjoying the fight.
As O'Neill moves to strike out Daniel Jackson shouts, "Get those gloves up, Tigger!" O'Neill is both startled and confused by Daniel Jackson. He turns slightly to see where Daniel Jackson's voice has come from.
I hit him squarely on the jaw, and he goes tumbling backwards onto the mat. Daniel Jackson grins at O'Neill smugly, then begins to hum and sing a tune I am unfamiliar with. ". . . their tops are made outta rubba, their bottoms are made outta springs . . ." He gives O'Neill a finger wave, and O'Neill cranes his head to glare at his retreating back as he heads out the door.
I look down at the man sprawled at my feet, trying not to smile. "You should not have let your guard down, O'Neill."
