A MAN AND HIS PLUSHIE: A COMEDY OF ERRORS
Author: Meredith Bronwen Mallory
Feedback: Onlist or to mallorys-girl@cinci.rr.com
Author Website:
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Category: Humor, Romance
Date: August 12th, 2003
Status: Complete
Series: None
Season/Spoilers: Upgrades-- Seasons 1-3
Archive: Alpha Gate. Area 52. Jackdaniels. Anyone else please ask.
Synopsis: A response to Leaper182's challenge and based on a silly picture I drew (). Jack's dark secret is about to be revealed.
Notes: I wrote a humor piece for stargate. Hey, don't laugh-- it's the FIC that's supposed to be funny! -_-;;;; Seriously. Thank you, as always, for taking the time to read this story. I'm so pleased that you did! The rest of this piece is on my hard drive awaiting final touch up, but I'm going in for some minor surgery and thought posting this might cheer me up and speed the editing process. A big, huge thanks goes out to Leaper 182, who came up with the challenge (posted bellow), to Sharon and Huntress for their kind feedback, and to Ayashi for her always-astounding beta services. All mistakes are mine. This is a little bit out of my usual style, so I hope it's up to par.
WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE--- FEEDBACK.
(Yeah, I know I'm pathetic. S'okay! ^_~)
Warnings:
A
R
N
I
N
G
S
P
A
C
E
Silliness. Fluff. Steve Martin references. Cuteness. Slight sexual suggestions. Lack of shame.
DISCLAIMER: Do I look like I'm in charge? Didn't think so. Needless to say, I do not own Stargate. I don't even own the couch I'm sitting on! Our beloved SG-1 is property of Double Secret Productions, Showtime/ Viacom, MGM/UA, and Gekko Productions. All of these groups have some very scary lawyer people in dark suits, so I am not going to mess with them. Even though they should be taking better care of our colonel and his pet archaeologist. The only thing I own is the idea for the story itself. Feel free to email me if you want to archive or link to this fic-- I'd be honored.
DATE BEGUN: July 24th, 2003
DATE FINISHED: August 13th, 2003
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A Man And His Plushie: A Comedy of Errors 1/
by Meredith Bronwen Mallory
mallorys-girl@cinci.rr.com
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PART THE FIRST: "In Which There is Mischief and Mashed Potatoes"
There are things in this universe that are not meant to be played with. Of course, their very forbidden nature calls us to toy with them, dabble in them, just as a little lady named Pandora couldn't resist opening her Christmas presents just a *wee* bit early.
So to speak.
Needless to say, demons would be loosed on the world, the Stargate would be unburied, and Jeff Goldbloom would end up having his nose fall off in "the Fly". Having such sterling examples of what _not_ to do, one would think young Cassandra Fraiser would have known better.
She did. That's the point.
"Cassie!" Jack bellowed, shooting up from his place on the couch. The wrappings of what had seemed like a perfectly innocent, spontaneous gift from his ward, wafted to the ground, but the child was no where to be seen.
"Come on, Sir," Sam poked her head out from the kitchen, grinning in a manner totally unbecoming a woman of her rank and supposed mental stability. "It's cute!"
"This is not funny," Jack plopped back down amidst the tissue paper wreckage, sounding more petulant than angry. In his hand, he held the small, obviously labored over, plushie. Stitched meticulously, soft thread-hair arranged just so and dressed in fine detail, right down to the cute little glasses. Blue button eyes winked in the lamplight, made cheerful by the small, pleasant half-smile sew in. Carefully, Jack fingered the miniature BDU's clinging to the soft form, mentally cursing the evils of alcohol, loudmouthed 2 IC's and young girls armed with so-called "woman's intuition."
"You have to admit, Colonel," Janet said, leaning over the back of the couch. "She did a really great job with it, didn't she?"
"I guess so," the man smiled despite himself, "what I'm trying to figure out is..." His deceptively quiet voice rose at least three decibels, "why in the name of all that's holy did you make this, Cassie!?"
Cassie, who's innate sense of self-preservation had finally kicked in, only giggled-- her voice floating out of whatever cupboard she'd hidden herself in.
"It was an art assignment!" she explained a little more loudly than necessary, voice coated with innocence. "We had to sew a 3-D toy or doll, see how much detail we could work into it."
Jack raised an eyebrow at Janet.
"She's telling the truth!" the doctor motioned a cross over her heart, "I have the rubric in the study, if you want it. Cassie got an A-."
"Minus?" the colonel sounded affronted, patting the plushie's soft, brown hair, as if to soothe it's wounded pride.
"The teacher got upset when I wouldn't let her keep it," Cassie explained, having more to the relative safety of the kitchen doorway, where she could still bolt if need be.
"Figures," Jack rolled his eyes, "tell Mrs.-What's-her-face she needs to get in line."
"For what?" Sam cracked, "The firing squad?"
This earned her a glare. "Daniel happens to be a widower, Major," Jack pointed out almost primly, "with as crazy as his past relationships have been, not to mention the fact the girls always get snaked, I doubt he needs everyone and their mother chomping at the bit to date him."
"And of course," Janet soothed, "your desire to protect him from such potentially casual relationships is _completely altruistic."
"Yeahsureyoubetcha," he murmured, half in sarcasm and half in distraction, turning the plushie over in his hand. Covertly, he glanced out of the corner of his eye, then pinched the toy's tiny behind.
"Uncle Jack!" Cassie scolded, vaulting over the back of the couch to land beside him, "Mom's right, you are a pervert."
"That's just a vicious rumor," Jack winked. Presently, he sighed, fiddling with the stuffed creature's hair, and the little patch on his mini-BDU's reading "Jackson".
"You're not mad at me, are you, Uncle Jack?" Cassie asked, pressing up against his side. "I thought it might make you smile. Isn't it cute?"
"It is very cute," Jack affirmed. "And, no, I'm not mad," he held up a finger, "I _might_ have been," he teased, "but since you're the prettiest alien I've ever seen, I'll just have to forgive you."
"Jack!" Janet warned, shaking her head.
"What? She _is_ an alien," Jack tousled the young girl's hair, "born in Canada, right, sweetheart?"
"Yes, Uncle Jack," Cassie replied dutifully. Stretching up, she cupped her hands together and whispered, "Mom helped me with the really tiny sewing."
"Well, why else did your mother spend all those years in medical school?" he grinned, "Sewing up cadavers was just practice for the real challenge of tiny Daniel plushies! Seriously, Cass," he pressed a kiss to her forehead, "you did a really great job. Where'd you get the glasses?"
"At a doll shop in the outlet mall," Sam replied, making a run for the kitchen as the sound of something metal hitting the floor rang out. Janet followed close on her heels, her voice joining in Sam's string of curses.
"MRE's might be safer," the colonel joked, nodding his head towards where Sam had disappeared, "Was she serious?"
"Yup!" Cassie bounced a little, "that's where we got his tiny boxers, too. I had to sew the BDU's myself."
"He has _boxers_?" Jack's large finger stole up against the plushie's belly, ready to pull down it's pants and get visual proof. "Please tell me he isn't anatomically corr--"
The soft chime of Janet's doorbell interrupted, as Jack's eyes went wide with alarm.
"-- oh, shit." Wildly, he turned to Sam, who looked suspiciously harried from whatever had malfunctioned during the meal-making process. "I thought they called and said they would be late 'cause of traffic!?"
"Don't look at me, sir!" Sam waved her hands.
"I'm assuming we still have a dinner to eat, right?"
"You're just lucky you're my commanding officer," Sam huffed. "Maybe I'll answer the door right now..."
"Alright, already. For crying out loud!" Jack looked mournfully at the incriminating evidence clutched tightly in the crook of his arm. "What am I gonna do with this?"
"Here!" Cassie held up the gift-bag, which Jack deposited the plushie in with surprising gentleness. Hurriedly, she turned towards the hall, "I'll hang it underneath your coat!"
"Quick thinker," Jack considered, kicking the tissue-paper under the couch.
"She gets it from me," Sam and Janet remarked in perfect synchronization, the smaller woman adding, "Cassie, get the door when you're through!"
"It's freezing out there," Daniel grumbled good-naturedly as he stepped into the living room, still bundled up from head to toe, eyes and glasses the only things visible between his scarf and oversized snowcap.
"Indeed, the weather is not at all amiable," the Jaffa beside him intoned, "what delayed you in answering the door?"
"Uh--" Jack smiled helplessly, "Sam killed the food. Again."
"She did not," Janet waved a hand in dismissal, "the spaghetti just boiled over a little, that's all."
"I'll take your coat, Daniel," Cassie chirped with forced helpfulness. Jack eyes her gratefully as Daniel began stripping off his heavy winter gear.
"Are you sure you don't want help with that?" the archaeologist called as Cassie and Teal'c returned to the hall closet.
"Don't worry about it, Daniel," Sam gestured to the warm living room, the newly lit fire playing over the wine-colored walls. "You sure got here fast."
"Thanks, Sam," Daniel said, snapping his fingers. "You just reminded me. Jack, I'm gonna kill you."
"Me?" Jack was the picture of innocence.
"He has informed me of his intentions repeatedly, O'Neill," Teal'c said.
"Teal'c says you're the one who taught him how to use the back roads!"
"Well..." Jack was silent for a moment, as if trying to come up with an excuse. "Yeah."
"I'm lucky my car isn't pancaked against a tree, the way he drives!" Daniel pointed accusingly at the alien man.
"Trees only hit cars in self-defense," the colonel pointed out. With a raised eyebrow, Teal'c moved towards Sam.
"MajorCarter," he said with great gravity, "we have brought the pummeled potato innards."
"And if they weren't mashed before," Daniel laughed, "they are now."
"Thanks, Teal'c," Janet said, accepting the heavy covered bowl. "We have spaghetti, mashed potatoes, and cornbread. Sounds like a nice meal to me."
"Who brought dessert?" Daniel inquired, doing a very good job of injecting false worry into his voice.
"Yo," Jack raised a hand, "Dessert officer, reporting for duty."
"That," said Daniel fatally, "was what I was afraid of."
Dinner passed as calmly as it could, considering the fact the company was made up of three Air Force officers, two aliens, and an incredibly trouble-prone linguist. Jack, Janet and Sam discussed Cassie's rather impressive proficiency scores, and the move to eighth grade she'd be making the following year. Cassie whined that math was too hard and history was too easy, while Daniel comforted her with the fact AP classes would be available when she reached high school. Jack strenuously objected to Daniel's "geekification" of Cassie, at which point Teal'c picked up a piece of cornbread and inquired as to why it was not shaped like the vegetable it was named for. By the time they'd finished dessert-- which consisted of slightly burnt peanut butter cookies-- and shooed Cassie off to bed, they were relaxed enough to joke about what Jack called the "armband affair" that had rocked the SGC earlier that week.
"You should have headed for the gate, though," Jack lectured, pointing his trigger finger at Daniel.
"Teal'c insisted on staying," the linguist shrugged, then blushed when Jack pointed out that Daniel and Teal'c were not surgically attached to each other. "Alright," he admitted, "I insisted on staying, too."
"No one gets left behind," Sam confirmed, smiling at those gathered around the table. "Not if we can help it."
"But--" Jack began.
Janet grinned. "Since when does Daniel follow orders?"
"Come off it, sir," Sam added, "we're a team."
"Daniel still should have gone to the gate," Jack muttered, but left the subject alone. In his mind, Sam's panicked expression, distorted by the force-field, suddenly faded into Daniel's well-loved features, memory and fear clashing as the image of Daniel on Apophis' ship surfaced as well. The space behind his lungs pinched, an old, schoolboy giddiness mixed with an adult's fear and love. The other's seemed to sense his sudden internal quiet, and for a few minutes they all had their last round of dessert in silence.
After a halfhearted attempt to play charades-- during which Teal'c misinterpreted Janet's impression of an elephant to be a System Lord in a snit-- they congregated in the hallway, laughing quietly and loathe to bring the evening to an end. Jack shrugged on his leather jacket, eyeing the increasing fall of snow with slight worry and tucking Cassie's gift bag under his arm.
"You gonna be able to drive in this weather, Danny?" he tapped the glass.
"Yeah," Daniel shrugged, "We'll take the main roads this time." He ribbed Teal'c playfully, though the Jaffa merely raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"What's what?" Jack turned around, looking much like a cat chasing it's tail.
"The bag you're holding, Jack," Daniel pointed out dryly.
"This?" Jack blinked at the offended item. "Oh, it's a present from Cassie."
"Really?" the linguist cast his glance between Jack and the suspiciously blushing Majors on the other side of Teal'c. "What did she get you? I thought your birthday was in March."
"It is," the older man held the bag away. "She just felt like giving me something. Spontainous-like."
"Well, can I see-like?" Daniel joked.
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"Because."
"Because why?"
"Just because."
"That's not a reason!"
"Can I see your appendix scar?"
"Of course not!" the younger man howled in embarrassment. O'Neill grinned.
"Well, then you can't see my present."
"That makes absolutely no sense," Daniel took a deep breath. "That's totally unrelated."
"How so?"
"My scar is... private. It is on my body, after all." Janet, Sam and Teal'c shared a glance before turning back to the increasingly more animated exchange.
"Well, maybe Cassie bought me a nipple ring!" Jack nodded, feeling fully vindicated.
"Sir!" Sam's voice reached a rather high note.
"Daniel," Jack said, ignoring her, "don't raise your eyebrow at me. You ain't got nothing on Teal'c, and when you do it you look like you're nauseous."
"I--"
"DanielJackson," Teal'c stepped between the two men, "It would be prudent for me to return to base sometime this evening."
"You're right, Teal'c," Daniel cast a dirty look at Jack, "I'm sorry. Let's go."
"Drive safe, Daniel!" Jack called, the tone of his voice the only indication of any peace offering. The Colonel waited until the other two men where safely in their car before turning to his hostesses.
"Not a word," he warned, with a wink, "Remember. They'll never find the bodies."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jack put the plushie on his nightstand, propped up between the lamp and the picture of Charlie, smiling in his grass-stained tee-ball uniform. The little toy seemed at once obscenely cute, comforting and a little silly. In the morning light, it actually looked rather forlorn, reproaching Jack as the Colonel made his bed before heading to work. Eventually, he began sitting the miniature 'Daniel' against his pillows before leaving.
And if the plushie sort of... migrated to the point of being cradled against Jack's chest during the night, well....
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NEXT TIME...
General Hammond receives a reminder why his hair has never grown back. Jack gets into trouble (again). Fraiser's medical staff reveal their not-entirely-professional admiration for the members of SGC's flagship team. Daniel becomes convinced the universe is out to get him. All this _and_ Teal'c's brief sex ed lecture!
TO BE CONTINUED...
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