TITLE: The Trouble with Teal'c
AUTHOR: Cyn(di)
EMAIL: custardpringle@yahoo.com
RATING: PG for language, non-human cannibalism
CATEGORY: drama, humor, crossover
SUMMARY: Teal'c finds a new pet. 'Gate/Trek crossover.
SPOILERS: I hope not.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: No, Jack's stapler fetish has nothing to do with the actual
plot. In fact, it has nothing to do with anything. And I don't know whether
Teal'c has an apartment or not, but it was convenient for me to pretend, so
don't hurt me. Please.
I don't own these people. Wish I did, but I don't.
--------------------------------------------------
The general looked around gravely. "Teal'c, Major Carter, Doctor Jackson, go see what you can find in the way of-" his mouth twitched-"wheelbarrows. I'll be monitoring the situation through the security cameras as soon as the control room is clear."
The other three nodded and left. As they hurried down the corridor, scooping up the occasional errant tribble to be dealt with later, Sam muttered, "We'd better hope there are some staplers down there."
"Why?" wondered Daniel, overhearing.
"Colonel O'Neill keeps stealing mine." She rolled her eyes.
"I think I have an extra. You can borrow it."
-----
Fifteen minutes later, said Colonel was standing on his best friends's desk, glowering at the sea of fur that was nearly up to his knees. Idly, Jack began fiddling with the stapler he had picked up from the desk, but he swiftly pocketed it when the door (which fortunately swung outward) opened. The glower softened slightly at the sight of his team with a large wheelbarrow. Each.
"You were right, sir," Carter informed him in surprise. "We found an entire room filled with wheelbarrows on a lower level. They're helping enormously with the cleanup work."
Daniel was looking around the room in dismay, although a large portion of it was no longer visible at all. "This place is going to be a mess. I won't be able to find anything."
"I was not aware that your office was particularly organized to begin with, Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c helpfully.
Jack finally lost patience. "Would you people cut the crap and get those things out of here?"
-----
It took little more than an hour to rescue Colonel O'Neill from Dr. Jackson's office, but that was by no means the end of what needed to be done. Over the next week, everybody who worked at the SGC, no matter what their rank or position, was enlisted to help get rid of the tribbles. Apart from a few lucky soldiers who were sent out to purchase additional cages and wheelbarrows, the entire base was busy carting the animals to the gate room and dumping them through onto their proper planet. Even General Hammond joined the labor for a few hours a day.
Finally, though, they were gone. The final boxes were emptied through the Gate, which was locked out of the dialing computer. (Not that anyone could have gotten through; Major Carter estimated the Gate there would be totally buried in less than a month.) A cheer went up throughout the mountain when Hammond announced that the last tribbles were gone.
-----
Daniel Jackson sat in his blessedly tribble-free office, watching the printer spit out his report. There hadn't been much to report on, since they hadn't done anything on their last mission. Still, he had written a couple of pages about why they hadn't done anything, since he had to write something.
All he had to do was staple it together, drop it on the General's desk, and finally get home for his first good night's sleep in a week.
Wait a minute. Was that chirping coming from the ventilator?
Daniel got up, looked through the grille, and saw nothing. Of course. He'd been hearing tribbles chirp incessantly for days, and the noise would probably be running through his head for a while yet. And where was the stapler, anyway? It didn't seem to be anywhere in his desk, although he had found a candy bar that had miraculously escaped the clutches of both tribbles and Jacks.
Suddenly, Daniel stiffened, remembering something Sam had said to him. Something about staplers . . . He clenched his fists.
"JACK!"
-----
Inside the ventilator shaft, the tribble cowered back further from the anger of the human outside. It knew it wasn't like this creature. In fact, there didn't seem to be any creatures like it anywhere. That would change, though, the tribble would have thought were it capable of doing so. All it had to do was get at the food the human was holding.
Then it would have plenty of company.
--------------------------------------------------
Sorry, LiRA(). Being evil myself, I just didn't have the heart to kill the things. What was your idea?
--------------------------------------------------
The general looked around gravely. "Teal'c, Major Carter, Doctor Jackson, go see what you can find in the way of-" his mouth twitched-"wheelbarrows. I'll be monitoring the situation through the security cameras as soon as the control room is clear."
The other three nodded and left. As they hurried down the corridor, scooping up the occasional errant tribble to be dealt with later, Sam muttered, "We'd better hope there are some staplers down there."
"Why?" wondered Daniel, overhearing.
"Colonel O'Neill keeps stealing mine." She rolled her eyes.
"I think I have an extra. You can borrow it."
-----
Fifteen minutes later, said Colonel was standing on his best friends's desk, glowering at the sea of fur that was nearly up to his knees. Idly, Jack began fiddling with the stapler he had picked up from the desk, but he swiftly pocketed it when the door (which fortunately swung outward) opened. The glower softened slightly at the sight of his team with a large wheelbarrow. Each.
"You were right, sir," Carter informed him in surprise. "We found an entire room filled with wheelbarrows on a lower level. They're helping enormously with the cleanup work."
Daniel was looking around the room in dismay, although a large portion of it was no longer visible at all. "This place is going to be a mess. I won't be able to find anything."
"I was not aware that your office was particularly organized to begin with, Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c helpfully.
Jack finally lost patience. "Would you people cut the crap and get those things out of here?"
-----
It took little more than an hour to rescue Colonel O'Neill from Dr. Jackson's office, but that was by no means the end of what needed to be done. Over the next week, everybody who worked at the SGC, no matter what their rank or position, was enlisted to help get rid of the tribbles. Apart from a few lucky soldiers who were sent out to purchase additional cages and wheelbarrows, the entire base was busy carting the animals to the gate room and dumping them through onto their proper planet. Even General Hammond joined the labor for a few hours a day.
Finally, though, they were gone. The final boxes were emptied through the Gate, which was locked out of the dialing computer. (Not that anyone could have gotten through; Major Carter estimated the Gate there would be totally buried in less than a month.) A cheer went up throughout the mountain when Hammond announced that the last tribbles were gone.
-----
Daniel Jackson sat in his blessedly tribble-free office, watching the printer spit out his report. There hadn't been much to report on, since they hadn't done anything on their last mission. Still, he had written a couple of pages about why they hadn't done anything, since he had to write something.
All he had to do was staple it together, drop it on the General's desk, and finally get home for his first good night's sleep in a week.
Wait a minute. Was that chirping coming from the ventilator?
Daniel got up, looked through the grille, and saw nothing. Of course. He'd been hearing tribbles chirp incessantly for days, and the noise would probably be running through his head for a while yet. And where was the stapler, anyway? It didn't seem to be anywhere in his desk, although he had found a candy bar that had miraculously escaped the clutches of both tribbles and Jacks.
Suddenly, Daniel stiffened, remembering something Sam had said to him. Something about staplers . . . He clenched his fists.
"JACK!"
-----
Inside the ventilator shaft, the tribble cowered back further from the anger of the human outside. It knew it wasn't like this creature. In fact, there didn't seem to be any creatures like it anywhere. That would change, though, the tribble would have thought were it capable of doing so. All it had to do was get at the food the human was holding.
Then it would have plenty of company.
--------------------------------------------------
Sorry, LiRA(). Being evil myself, I just didn't have the heart to kill the things. What was your idea?
