Title: The Trouble with Rocks
Author: C.S. Williams
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate, its characters, or anything therein. They belong to other companies with WAY more money than I have.
Spoilers: None that I can think of.
Pairing: Little teeny bit of S/J.
Enjoy!
* * * *
"DANIEL!" The shout echoed down the rocky crevice, and Jack O'Neill hoped it had managed to reach the archeologist above him that his friend was in trouble. And that it was because of the aforementioned archeologist that he was now hanging on to a wobbly rock and in a very precarious position. Of course, he'd been shouting for the past twenty-five minutes without results-wait, did he hear someone? Running towards him? Thank you, Daniel!
"Sir?" Oh, great. Did it have to be Carter? Of all the people to see him like this! "What are you doing, sir?"
"Rock-climbing, Major. What'd you think I was doing?" All right, he needed assistance, and he was doing a reasonably good job of pissing off the only one who could render that assistance. That stupid sarcasm was betraying him again.
He heard an amused chuckle above him. "Sir, do you need help?"
"No!" Now it was male chauvinism. It was working side by side with the sarcasm, trying to get him killed, he was certain. "I may not be a theoretical astrophysicist, but I think I can rock climb, Carter!"
Another chuckle. She was definitely laughing at him. "Of course, sir. Why were you busy shouting Daniel's name, then?"
He resisted the urge to swear vehemently under his breath. "I was, um, attempting to get him to, uh get ready to go." That sounded plausible. Didn't it? And when had his leg started to ache so badly?
"Daniel's back at the SGC, sir. I was sent to retrieve you. Are you sure you don't need any help at all?" The melodic voice that drifted down to him radiated the sensation that her amusement at his expense was not over. If he got out of here alive, the first thing he was going to do was wring that scrawny linguist's little neck!
"What did Daniel do, sir?"
Crap. He must have said that out loud. This time he did swear under his breath, and hoped that none of those local kids were hanging around with his 2IC. Which brought completely inappropriate images to mind, so he avoided it by answering her question.
"The guy asked me if I would mind grabbing his rocks-"
"Artifacts."
"Whatever. Anyway, he asked if I would please bring them back with me so he could discuss the fascinating aspects of the Mass-mass-massa-"
"Macedonian."
"Whatever! He wanted to discuss the language with that Nintendo guy- "
"Ninando."
"WHATEVER! So he wanted me to bring the stupid rocks--fine, have it your way, artifacts--back so he could confer with the local guy and then I slipped while I was grabbing at them, and this is where I ended up!" Why did that woman feel the need to make an unfortunate situation into something even worse? She was the most infuriating person he'd ever met! After that irritating archeologist, of course. And maybe Maybourne as well.
Sam Carter, meanwhile, was assessing the risk to her if she were to get down to help out her CO. She doubted General Hammond would be too pleased if his 2IC didn't come back, but on the other hand, half the SGC would probably thank her. She would probably get promoted to head SG-1 as well. She sighed; it was a difficult choice. Besides, he claimed he didn't need help! Why was she even bothering to think about it?
Well, she could answer that easily enough. She didn't want him to die. It was bad enough every time he went missing and she drove herself to exhaustion to get him back, she didn't want to think about what she'd be like if she knew he wouldn't be coming back.
With another sign of resignation, she knelt down and offered her hand to the colonel. Ignoring his protestations, she hauled him over the rocky ledge so that he was back on solid ground and then she immediately proceeded to laugh. Loudly.
"What?" he asked, irritated that she would find anything about the situation humorous. Of course, she had just saved his butt, and she could just as easily push him back over the edge so he would fall to his death.
Sam didn't answer immediately. It was hard enough to breathe.
"C'mon, Carter! Seriously, I've been hanging there for half an hour! My arms ache, and there's this pain in my leg that means it's cramped and I'm going to have one heck of a time making it up--Carter! I order you to tell me what you think is so funny!"
"Nothing, sir," she gasped, using one arm to hoist herself up into a sitting position.
"That was an order, Major!" Jack was getting a little angry now.
"Look down, sir," she managed, fighting to get air into her lungs.
He did, slightly wary that she was putting him on and that when he looked down, he would get vertigo and throw up. Casting a suspicious glance at her, he dragged his gaze to the cliff he'd been hanging on. "Oh, for crying out loud!"
The floor of the "hole", for lack of a better term, had been right below his feet. And on the opposite side from where he had been dangling, worrying about certain death (if not for him, then for Daniel Jackson), there were steps, STAIRS!, leading up to the edge of the hole. In other words, all he would have had to do was drop maybe a foot, and he would have been on solid ground! Instead, he'd ended up making a fool of himself in front of one of the most intelligent women he'd ever met. Great, just great!
He moaned, and heard the major's voice pipe up next to him. "Sir? If that leg of yours is cramped up, maybe you ought to lean on me until we get back to the SGC."
"Yeah, sure," he groused, but he suddenly didn't feel that bad. In fact, his leg was feeling better too. But if Carter had her heart set on helping him to the Gate, who was he to argue?
Maybe it hadn't been such a bad day after all. Jack could almost find it within his heart to forgive Daniel.
"We'd better get started," she said, taking his hand and putting it on her shoulder. "There are some Marines back home who are gonna want to start bidding on this videotape." She patted the camera next to her, swinging at her side.
On second thought, Daniel might want to start running. Very quickly.
Author: C.S. Williams
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate, its characters, or anything therein. They belong to other companies with WAY more money than I have.
Spoilers: None that I can think of.
Pairing: Little teeny bit of S/J.
Enjoy!
* * * *
"DANIEL!" The shout echoed down the rocky crevice, and Jack O'Neill hoped it had managed to reach the archeologist above him that his friend was in trouble. And that it was because of the aforementioned archeologist that he was now hanging on to a wobbly rock and in a very precarious position. Of course, he'd been shouting for the past twenty-five minutes without results-wait, did he hear someone? Running towards him? Thank you, Daniel!
"Sir?" Oh, great. Did it have to be Carter? Of all the people to see him like this! "What are you doing, sir?"
"Rock-climbing, Major. What'd you think I was doing?" All right, he needed assistance, and he was doing a reasonably good job of pissing off the only one who could render that assistance. That stupid sarcasm was betraying him again.
He heard an amused chuckle above him. "Sir, do you need help?"
"No!" Now it was male chauvinism. It was working side by side with the sarcasm, trying to get him killed, he was certain. "I may not be a theoretical astrophysicist, but I think I can rock climb, Carter!"
Another chuckle. She was definitely laughing at him. "Of course, sir. Why were you busy shouting Daniel's name, then?"
He resisted the urge to swear vehemently under his breath. "I was, um, attempting to get him to, uh get ready to go." That sounded plausible. Didn't it? And when had his leg started to ache so badly?
"Daniel's back at the SGC, sir. I was sent to retrieve you. Are you sure you don't need any help at all?" The melodic voice that drifted down to him radiated the sensation that her amusement at his expense was not over. If he got out of here alive, the first thing he was going to do was wring that scrawny linguist's little neck!
"What did Daniel do, sir?"
Crap. He must have said that out loud. This time he did swear under his breath, and hoped that none of those local kids were hanging around with his 2IC. Which brought completely inappropriate images to mind, so he avoided it by answering her question.
"The guy asked me if I would mind grabbing his rocks-"
"Artifacts."
"Whatever. Anyway, he asked if I would please bring them back with me so he could discuss the fascinating aspects of the Mass-mass-massa-"
"Macedonian."
"Whatever! He wanted to discuss the language with that Nintendo guy- "
"Ninando."
"WHATEVER! So he wanted me to bring the stupid rocks--fine, have it your way, artifacts--back so he could confer with the local guy and then I slipped while I was grabbing at them, and this is where I ended up!" Why did that woman feel the need to make an unfortunate situation into something even worse? She was the most infuriating person he'd ever met! After that irritating archeologist, of course. And maybe Maybourne as well.
Sam Carter, meanwhile, was assessing the risk to her if she were to get down to help out her CO. She doubted General Hammond would be too pleased if his 2IC didn't come back, but on the other hand, half the SGC would probably thank her. She would probably get promoted to head SG-1 as well. She sighed; it was a difficult choice. Besides, he claimed he didn't need help! Why was she even bothering to think about it?
Well, she could answer that easily enough. She didn't want him to die. It was bad enough every time he went missing and she drove herself to exhaustion to get him back, she didn't want to think about what she'd be like if she knew he wouldn't be coming back.
With another sign of resignation, she knelt down and offered her hand to the colonel. Ignoring his protestations, she hauled him over the rocky ledge so that he was back on solid ground and then she immediately proceeded to laugh. Loudly.
"What?" he asked, irritated that she would find anything about the situation humorous. Of course, she had just saved his butt, and she could just as easily push him back over the edge so he would fall to his death.
Sam didn't answer immediately. It was hard enough to breathe.
"C'mon, Carter! Seriously, I've been hanging there for half an hour! My arms ache, and there's this pain in my leg that means it's cramped and I'm going to have one heck of a time making it up--Carter! I order you to tell me what you think is so funny!"
"Nothing, sir," she gasped, using one arm to hoist herself up into a sitting position.
"That was an order, Major!" Jack was getting a little angry now.
"Look down, sir," she managed, fighting to get air into her lungs.
He did, slightly wary that she was putting him on and that when he looked down, he would get vertigo and throw up. Casting a suspicious glance at her, he dragged his gaze to the cliff he'd been hanging on. "Oh, for crying out loud!"
The floor of the "hole", for lack of a better term, had been right below his feet. And on the opposite side from where he had been dangling, worrying about certain death (if not for him, then for Daniel Jackson), there were steps, STAIRS!, leading up to the edge of the hole. In other words, all he would have had to do was drop maybe a foot, and he would have been on solid ground! Instead, he'd ended up making a fool of himself in front of one of the most intelligent women he'd ever met. Great, just great!
He moaned, and heard the major's voice pipe up next to him. "Sir? If that leg of yours is cramped up, maybe you ought to lean on me until we get back to the SGC."
"Yeah, sure," he groused, but he suddenly didn't feel that bad. In fact, his leg was feeling better too. But if Carter had her heart set on helping him to the Gate, who was he to argue?
Maybe it hadn't been such a bad day after all. Jack could almost find it within his heart to forgive Daniel.
"We'd better get started," she said, taking his hand and putting it on her shoulder. "There are some Marines back home who are gonna want to start bidding on this videotape." She patted the camera next to her, swinging at her side.
On second thought, Daniel might want to start running. Very quickly.