// FINALLY, I'm finishing this. Whew, after this is done, I can concentrate on less tasking stories. Here it is, the worst dinner anyone
// has ever had to eat, even SG-1.
// See chapter one for details and the like.
// Authors Note: I will now rant uselessly for a few sentences. Why? Because I feel like it! Besides, I'm bored; couldn't you tell?
Chapter Three: Diabolical Dinner
Jack O'Neill stood at the door to the SGC's commissary, his longtime best friend in galactic misadventure Dr. Daniel Jackson
standing next to him. Coincidently, Danny boy was also the guinea pig for Jacks newest test of the safety of the SGC personnel. "Daniel,
we settled this: you're going first."
As usual, Daniel was being unreasonable. "Jack, I never agreed to a coin toss, and YOU never even called out whether you were
heads or tails. You just flipped the coin, looked at it, and said 'yep, I win.'"
"The tosser is always heads, Daniel, unless they state otherwise. Duh. Now get going." He gave Daniel a shove in the doors
direction, a little surprised when the archaeologist/anthropologist/polyglot so effectively resisted Jacks efforts to force the younger
man through the doorway first. 'Note to self: forbid Teal'c to train Daniel in hand-to-hand anymore.'
"Sir, Daniel, what are you two doing?"
Jack turned to regard his 2IC, Major Sam Carter, as she and Doctor Frasier joined the two men. 'Let's see, how not to make this
sound ridiculously childish...'
"Daniel's refusing a direct order to go before me in the dinner line."
Carter rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of disgust. 'Oh well, I tried.' Doc Frasier, on the other hand, took a more proactive
stance on the situation, crossing her arms and glaring at O'Neill in a way that promised him a needle-riddled death in the near future.
Taking the subtle hint, he let go of Daniel.
"Fine." Jack took a look behind the two majors. "You two seen Teal'c and Jonas anywhere?"
"We are right here, O'Neill." Teal'c voice came from directly behind Jack, causing him to jump.
"Don't DO that Teal'c," he admonished the Jaffa. 'Jeez, how does such a big guy move so silently?' "And you..." he pointed his
finger at the Kelownan next to Teal'c, then motioned into the commissary, "you go first. In there, go. Now."
The alien opened and closed his mouth several times before making a strangling sound that Jack took to mean no. 'Wow, Jonas does
a good imitation of a fish when he's scared.' "Ohfercryinoutloud, come on people! We're SG-1, we don't back down from anything,
certainly not our own commissary." He turned back to Teal'c. "Teal'c. Big, strong, trustworthy, loyal, healthy Teal'c"-
"What is it you wish me to do, O'Neill?" There was a hint of resignation in Teal'c voice.
"Pick up Daniel and toss him into the commissary."
All of them turned as a sound that sounded half like a grunt, half like a scream emanated from Doc Frasier. "This is ridiculous.
Five full-grown adults, two of them military, one a former First Prime, and one who's died half a dozen times, afraid to go into a stupid
room. Why? Because there's food they don't like in there. Well, you all have a nice little party out here, I'm getting something to
eat." And with that, their petite CMO stalked into the commissary.
"You see," Jack pointed at her retreating form "that's all I was asking for."
"Jack, shut up and let's get something to eat." Daniel followed the Doc inside.
The rest of SG-1 followed the two doctors inside, meeting at the line for food, which consisted of six people: them.
"Teal'c, you gonna get something this time?"
"I would rather have my tenlak burned by a Goa'uld fire stick, O'Neill."
Jack turned to Daniel. "Tenlak?"
Daniel blushed at the question, coughed once, then whispered the translation into Jack's ear. "Ooh...I'll take that as a
tentative no," Jack quipped as he selected a few dishes that seemed safe. 'Let's see, nothing can go wrong with a baked potato, right?
Right.' Everyone selected water to drink, except Daniel that is. Addicted to coffee as he was, he tried the tea in lieu of his normal
caffeine dependency. Jack couldn't resist asking a question on the way back to their usual table.
"Daniel, do you even know what goes into that stuff?"
"Of course, Jack; I recognize the smell. It's herbal tea with honey and vanilla extract."
"Really? How...delicate a choice, Danny."
"Jack, I need coffee. When I can't have coffee, I substitute tea instead. I recognize the smell from the special the tea shop
had last time I visited downtown to take in a movie."
Jack adopted a tone of shocked disbelief. "Noooo. You actually do stuff outside of the mountain?"
"Of course! I have a life outside the SGC, you know."
Several eyebrows at the table were raised simultaneously.
"Seriously, I do."
More raised eyebrows.
"Fine, I have a 'living quarters' outside the SGC. Happy?"
Jack would have given one of his usual sarcastic comebacks had he not seen something else at that moment that intrigued him.
Lieutenant Hailey, the blond hobbit-sized genius officer Sam had recruited for the SGC from the Air Force Academy, stalking across the
room with a look that meant business. Jack followed her path with his eyes and saw the terminus (yes, he knew what that word meant) of
her vector (that one meant foot, right?): lieutenant Grogan, laughing and lounging with a couple of other junior officers of SG-4.
"Carter, you're pint-sized protégée is about to start something."
Sam turned in her seat. "Uh-oh. Grogan's in for it."
Jonas craned his neck to see. "Too bad, I always liked him. Reminds me of you, Colonel."
"What are you talking about, he's nothing like-" Jacks next words were stolen from his throat before they could be uttered by
what came next.
Hailey gained a little speed, now in a light jog, and at five feet from Grogan, dived at him. The two fell to the floor, Hailey
sprawled on top of the larger Grogan. He never got out a word of protest, because Hailey immediately began to make out with him. It
seemed no one was more surprised by this than Grogan, by the look of it. Didn't seem to stop him from returning the gesture a moment
later, though.
"Well, that's new," Jack couldn't help but say.
"Lieutenants," Sam yelled at them.
Hailey and Grogan immediately disengaged themselves from one another and stood up, a little shamefacedly. "Sorry, ma'am," they
both said simultaneously.
Sam's expression softened a little. "Maybe the two of you should go someplace else, off-base perhaps, if you want to continue
your previous 'conversation.'"
The two junior officers nodded, then jogged off out of the room.
Quinns face had adopted a confused look. "Is it wrong, what they just did?"
"Yes, Jonas, it is." Jack thought maybe, just this once, he would help the alien out with Earth decorum. Besides, this was the
only type of decorum Jack really knew anything about anyways.
"Oh. So they're not old enough for a relationship?"
"What? No, they're old enough. They couldn't be in the Air Force otherwise."
"Are either of them married?"
"No. Look, you're missing the-"
"A religious law against them seeing each other? A problem with their faiths?"
Daniel, Janet, and Sam were holding back laughs by now and Teal'c had a slight smile on his face. "No, now shut up and listen-"
"Oh, maybe a health issue? One of them has a condition or a disease, maybe?"
"SHUT IT, JONAS!"
The polite alien nearly fell out of his seat at O'Neills outburst. Daniel winced. "Ok, that's one deaf ear. Jack care to move
to the other side and balance things out?"
"Quite, Daniel." Jack turned his attention back to Jonas. "Jonas, those two can't be caught doing...what they were doing
because that sort of thing is forbidden in the military."
"Oh," realization dawned on Quinns face. Then he became confused, again. 'He's like that WAY too much.' "So, how come you guys
weren't brought up on charges those times when you were," the alien searched for the correct word, "involved in such ventures?"
'Did he just call Laira a 'venture?!' Jack sighed in annoyance and frustration. "Because it's only between two military
officers that this is forbidden, Jonas."
'Ah, got it Colonel, thanks."
"My pleasure." 'Darn it, there's not enough sarcasm in the world for that statement.'zJack would have refused to look at Jonas
any further had a loud BANG not come from Jonas' mouth. He whirled his head around just in time to see Quinn going flying backwards off
his chair and impact with a passing Sergeant Siler.
Teal'c and Janet were soon on their feet, helping both men recover from the unexpected effects of...what?
Carter beat Jack to the punch. "Jonas, your pizza did that?"
An unsteady looking Jonas Quinn sat down. "Er...I...uh...I mean...what?"
"Your pizza. That's what you were eating? That's what exploded?"
Quinns eyes refocused on Jacks Major. 'Darnit, I've got to stop thinking about her like that, it's not right. She's right,
though, oh so very right. WE would be even MORE right together. Yep, right like a couple of-wait, has anyone noticed I haven't been
here, mentally speaking, for the past fifteen seconds? No? Good, but I better cut this out anyways. Addiction lies down this road.'
With a serious bit of effort, Jack brought his attention back from scenarios of him, Sam, and no interfering regs to Sam and Jonas
talking about exploding pizza. 'Well, not AS interesting as what I was thinking about, but it'll do.'
"I see," Carter murmured. "So it's only the pepperonis that are explosive."
"Does anyone else hear that ringing?" Quinn was shaking his head, trying to expel some imaginary bells from the inside of his
head. Most of them weren't paying attention, though; this sort of thing had become all too common in the SGC today to be fazed by it.
Speaking of which...
"Jack, what's the matter?"
Jack looked at Daniel. "If Jonas' pizza is exploding, I don't even want to *think* about what will happen if I bite into my
burrito."
The archaeologist nodded in agreement. "Good point. You might wind up vaporizing half the base. No telling what a purple
burrito has inside of it."
'*Purple* burrito?' O'Neill examined the object in his hands. Nope, same color as all burritos. "Daniel, my burrito isn't
purple. Why would you-"
"Gah!" Jackson ducked his head. "Would somebody get rid of that parrot?!"
SG-1 and doc Frasier started staring at Daniel like he had grown two extra heads. After a moment he became aware of their stares.
"What," he asked in that of so innocent way of his. 'Hey, that's MY innocent look he's using! Hmm, wonder what else of mine he's been
using lately.'
"Um, Daniel," Sam starting speaking slowly, like she was addressing a toddler, "there's no parrot in the commissary. And the
colonel's burrito is it's normal color, not purple."
"Are you feeling well, DanielJackson?"
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I just wish everyone wasn't wearing tye-dye today." He went back to his tea for a moment. Then he
bellowed over his shoulder, "Will somebody turn off that damn rap music?!"
'Okay, ignore your best friend who has currently gone psycho. That's MacKenzie's department. There's a baked potato that needs
eating.' Jack took his knife and cut down the center of the veggie, then took his fork and stabbed deep into the innards of the potato.
Expecting resistance, he pulled to get the thing to split open. Imagine his surprise when his arm, completely without his permission,
went totally overboard and instead knocked his glass of water all over Daniel.
"AAAAHHHH! IT BURNS, GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF!" The young man started thrashing and lashing about before falling
backwards off his chair. Frasier was at his side in a moment, examining his 'burns.' "Okay, Daniel, it's all right. Let's go down to
the infirmary and get that looked at." Her tone was low, smooth, and soft, almost...motherly? 'It sure smacks of something like that,'
Jack thought.
As they made to leave, Carter asked, "Janet, is he really burned?"
She was quick to answer. "No, the tea is making him...sense things that aren't real. The water's fine. Now, if you'll excuse
us." With that, both doctor disappeared from the room. 'Funny,' Jack thought, 'she seemed in a hurry. Wonder why.'
Teal'c turned to him. "Why did you spill your water on DanielJackson, O'Neill?"
Jack shrugged. "Dunno. I was just using my fork to open up my baked potato when-" Jack suddenly got a good look at his fork, or
rather what was left of it. "Son of a..." The prongs were completely gone; it was like something had dissolved the end of his utensil.
"What the Hell happened to it?"
"Probably the same thing that happened to your knife, sir." Carter pointed to the small lump of metal that once had a dull blade
at one end; now, it was a paperweight.
Out of sheer grim curiosity more than anything else, Jack picked up the fork and slowly drove it into the yellow-white innards of
the baked potato. In a couple of seconds, nothing remained of the stainless steel instrument.
"Amazing," Carter breathed.
"Indeed."
"Well," Jonas thought out loud, "at least it didn't blow up on you Colonel."
"Yeah, lucky me." Jack went through his jumpsuit pockets, looking for a container carrying a durable set of plastic utensils.
"Fortunately, I came prepared." On further experimentation, he found plastic didn't melt in the innards of the potato from Beyond. He
reached for the salt.
"Salt on a baked potato, sir?"
"Baked potatos are boring, Major. It needs this little touch, trust mee-ooucch!"
His potato was on fire! Moments after sprinkling it with salt, the thing had burst into flames, spreading the fire to his
sleeves. Jack started the whole stop-drop-and roll thing that everybody who's been through kindergarden knows, but after fifteen seconds
it still wasn't out! He was about to panic when he felt a cold torrent of wetness engulf him and the heat on his arm dissappate. He
looked up to see a big form holding an empty water jug standing over him. "Thanks Teal'c."
"Of course, O'Neill." The big man helped Jack to his feet. Looking at the now soaked and burnt out remains of his former meal,
Jack felt hunger begin to gnaw at his insides, bringing with it a sense of mounting frustration and, therefore, sarcasm.
"Well, what fun this has been." Jack quipped. "I wonder how we could make it any more interesting?"
"What the Sam Hell is going on in here?!"
'Note to self: must stop inviting wrath of God through witty statements.' Jack turned to see his rotund CO, General George
Hammond charge into the commissary. Astonishment, confusion, and fury arced through his features as he approached the table SG-1 was
sitting at. "Colonel, what's going on here?"
Jack swallowed once, hard. He had only seen Hammond mad like this a few times; none of them were memories he particularly
enjoyed...actually, that wasn't true. There was that one instance in the time loop when he and Teal'c had been doing some golfing
through the Stargate. 'In the middle of my *backswing?! Hehe, yep, I'm still the comeback king.'
"COLONEL!"
"Sir!" Jack jumped off his seat, knocking his knee into the underside of the table in the process. 'OK, owww.'
"Would you mind telling me what exactly is going on in this base?"
Jack didn't miss a beat. "Expeditions to other planets through the Stargate, or as we like to call it in military lingo, deep
space radar telemetry."
Carter held back a laugh at his statement. Any glee Jack might have gotten from that, however, was drained away by the look on
his COs face. "Jack, I'm a hairs breath away from losing it right now. What I've just seen and heard on my way down here is worse than
ANY of the past debacles this base has ever been mired in. I want an explanation, now."
Jack gave a long-suffering sigh. "It's the cook sir."
"What about him?"
"He's a menace, that's what."
Hammond frowned in confusion. "I don't understand, Jack. You're saying the *cook* caused all of this?"
"Yep, exactly."
"He is an evil rivaled only by that of the Goa'uld, GeneralHammond."
"Really, really weird stuff." Jonas picked pieces of explosive pepperoni out of his sandy blonde hair. "Even for Earth dishes."
Carter was up next. "The things that have been coming out of that kitchen, sir...i-it defies the mind how such things can even
be possible. I was working on that Jell-o in my lab with a lithium-argon laser for two hours and I'm telling you, sir, it's impervious
to physical harm."
"So, you're all telling me that the cook is responsible for, among other things," Hammond began counting off on his fingers,
"dozens of officers breaking regs in plain view, sometimes even in the hallways and embarkation room, the waste disposal system being
clogged up by some sort of unidentified super glue, explosions with no identifiable trace of normal chemical munitions material sounding
all over the base, psychotic behavior in a number of people caused by some sort of hallucination, a sticky thirty-eight foot deep hole
being found in the commissary storage closet, a rash of fires breaking out in the crates carrying food supplies for the base, and reports
of a some sort of 'living sludge' now haunting the heating ducts?" Exasperation, annoyance, and disbelief battled for control of the
older mans features. Clearly, he hadn't eaten in the commissary today.
Jack took a moment to tally the score in his head. "Yep, all courtesy of 'biological Ali' in that there kitchen," he indicated
with a wave of his hand.
"I'm sorry, Colonel, but I have trouble believing ANY cook could be that bad."
In answer of his CO's statement, Jack picked up some of the greenish gunk off of Carters' plate and handed it to the General.
Sam's eyes widened, Jonas gaped at Jack's audacity. Teal'c raised an eyebrow. The entire room froze, watching their general, awaiting
his reaction.
With a look that suggested he was a little suspicious but determined to prove Jack wrong on this ridiculous sounding charge,
Hammond took the spoon and swallowed the substance, almost instantaneously choking and gagging on it. "That's it," the general wheezed
between gasps for air, " he's fired. The cook's fired!"
A round of applause the likes of not heard since Apophis' two orbiting motherships went up in flames six years ago swept through
the commissary. Several airmen began to race through the halls of the SGC announcing the good news. Jack was fairly certain he could
hear the rumblings of a round of spontaneous applause break out on the upper levels of the base.
Appearing not to notice the general hullabalo around him, Hammond limped off towards the exit of the commissary. He paused for a
moment in his steps, then turned to Jack. "Colonel, do you know where doctor Frasier is at the moment?"
"Yes sir, she's-"
Carter butted in quickly. "In Daniels quarters, sedating him from the effects of the hallucinogenic tea."
Jack, Teal'c, and Jonas stared curiously at Sam. She turned her 'do as I say or I'll rearrange your leptons' look on all of them
in one quick round-about glare that, somehow, Hammond seemed to miss. "Yessir," Jack added, "that's where they were headed...probably."
Hammond nodded wearily. "Thank you Colonel." Then the older man turned and left. As he left, Jack could have sworn he heard
his boss mutter, "Honestly, you'd think a former Wendy's employee would be a better cook."
The three remaining men turned to Sam. "Well," Jack asked for all of them.
"Janet and Daniel need some time alone, sir," was all she said.
'Enact senior officer voice mode.' "Major..."
"...I think something happened to her because of the pasta."
"Something...like?"
"Something hormonal."
"Major!"
"She had the look of one in a state of skel no mak," Teal'c said.
"Hey, I know what that means," Jonas began. "I think it translates roughly to in heat-oww." The Kelownan jumped slightly. Jack
didn't miss the look Carter flashed him briefly. "-ing ducts...in heating ducts. Yeah, that's it."
"Riiighht. Carter, you could have just said so."
"Really? Hints were strong enough for you, sir?"
"C'mon Carter, you know me; I don't do subtle. In fact I SO don't do it, I don't even know what it is." 'I also don't do smart,
as evidenced by my previous statement.'
Quinn got up from the table. "There's a candy machine two floors up. I'm going to go to it, get my evening meal."
"That one's empty," Carter supplied.
"Okay then, I'll try the one eight floors up."
"Nope, they got that one, too. Carter, I think you, Daniel, and the Doc raided that one particularly early in the day, didn't
you?" The death glare he got from his 2IC was more than enough to confirm his statement.
"...Okaaay, I'll try the one fourteen floors up."
"Also empty," Teal'c supplied.
Quinn gave a heavy sigh. "Well, there's always Dairy Queen."
Carter's eye widened. "Jonas, that's four miles outside of the base and you can't legally drive."
"Major Ferretti owes me a favor, trust me you don't want to know why." With that, he left for sweeter treats.
Not at all surprised that the days meal had yet AGAIN turned psycho (literally in this case), Jack went for plan B: Fruit Loops.
As he got up from the table, he saw Sam open her mouth. "Yeah, I know, Fruit Loops for everyone. Teal'c, your usual ten bowls?"
"Thank you O'Neill, but three will suffice for now."
"Gotcha." He made towards the dry foods storage. He was halfway there when he spotted something odd. "Siler..." The sergeant
was making his way out of the commissary. He had his hand in his coveralls, near a suspicious, box shaped lump. The officer quickened
his pace away from O'Neill. "Sergeant!" There was no doubt in O'Neill's mind now.
Siler took one look over his shoulder at the Colonel, then made a break for the door, cereal box in hand. Jack ran after him.
"Sergeant, get back here with MY FRUIT LOOPS!"
~Finis
// There it is, done. May none of you ever suffer a late dinner fate like this one.
// It begins with an 'r', ends with a 'w', and has 'evie' in the middle. Gimme some of those please, they taste SOOOO good.
// Btw, is a fire stick that thing they use to torture people that makes their eyes and mouth glow? I'm not sure about that detail;
// think can you help me with this?
// has ever had to eat, even SG-1.
// See chapter one for details and the like.
// Authors Note: I will now rant uselessly for a few sentences. Why? Because I feel like it! Besides, I'm bored; couldn't you tell?
Chapter Three: Diabolical Dinner
Jack O'Neill stood at the door to the SGC's commissary, his longtime best friend in galactic misadventure Dr. Daniel Jackson
standing next to him. Coincidently, Danny boy was also the guinea pig for Jacks newest test of the safety of the SGC personnel. "Daniel,
we settled this: you're going first."
As usual, Daniel was being unreasonable. "Jack, I never agreed to a coin toss, and YOU never even called out whether you were
heads or tails. You just flipped the coin, looked at it, and said 'yep, I win.'"
"The tosser is always heads, Daniel, unless they state otherwise. Duh. Now get going." He gave Daniel a shove in the doors
direction, a little surprised when the archaeologist/anthropologist/polyglot so effectively resisted Jacks efforts to force the younger
man through the doorway first. 'Note to self: forbid Teal'c to train Daniel in hand-to-hand anymore.'
"Sir, Daniel, what are you two doing?"
Jack turned to regard his 2IC, Major Sam Carter, as she and Doctor Frasier joined the two men. 'Let's see, how not to make this
sound ridiculously childish...'
"Daniel's refusing a direct order to go before me in the dinner line."
Carter rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of disgust. 'Oh well, I tried.' Doc Frasier, on the other hand, took a more proactive
stance on the situation, crossing her arms and glaring at O'Neill in a way that promised him a needle-riddled death in the near future.
Taking the subtle hint, he let go of Daniel.
"Fine." Jack took a look behind the two majors. "You two seen Teal'c and Jonas anywhere?"
"We are right here, O'Neill." Teal'c voice came from directly behind Jack, causing him to jump.
"Don't DO that Teal'c," he admonished the Jaffa. 'Jeez, how does such a big guy move so silently?' "And you..." he pointed his
finger at the Kelownan next to Teal'c, then motioned into the commissary, "you go first. In there, go. Now."
The alien opened and closed his mouth several times before making a strangling sound that Jack took to mean no. 'Wow, Jonas does
a good imitation of a fish when he's scared.' "Ohfercryinoutloud, come on people! We're SG-1, we don't back down from anything,
certainly not our own commissary." He turned back to Teal'c. "Teal'c. Big, strong, trustworthy, loyal, healthy Teal'c"-
"What is it you wish me to do, O'Neill?" There was a hint of resignation in Teal'c voice.
"Pick up Daniel and toss him into the commissary."
All of them turned as a sound that sounded half like a grunt, half like a scream emanated from Doc Frasier. "This is ridiculous.
Five full-grown adults, two of them military, one a former First Prime, and one who's died half a dozen times, afraid to go into a stupid
room. Why? Because there's food they don't like in there. Well, you all have a nice little party out here, I'm getting something to
eat." And with that, their petite CMO stalked into the commissary.
"You see," Jack pointed at her retreating form "that's all I was asking for."
"Jack, shut up and let's get something to eat." Daniel followed the Doc inside.
The rest of SG-1 followed the two doctors inside, meeting at the line for food, which consisted of six people: them.
"Teal'c, you gonna get something this time?"
"I would rather have my tenlak burned by a Goa'uld fire stick, O'Neill."
Jack turned to Daniel. "Tenlak?"
Daniel blushed at the question, coughed once, then whispered the translation into Jack's ear. "Ooh...I'll take that as a
tentative no," Jack quipped as he selected a few dishes that seemed safe. 'Let's see, nothing can go wrong with a baked potato, right?
Right.' Everyone selected water to drink, except Daniel that is. Addicted to coffee as he was, he tried the tea in lieu of his normal
caffeine dependency. Jack couldn't resist asking a question on the way back to their usual table.
"Daniel, do you even know what goes into that stuff?"
"Of course, Jack; I recognize the smell. It's herbal tea with honey and vanilla extract."
"Really? How...delicate a choice, Danny."
"Jack, I need coffee. When I can't have coffee, I substitute tea instead. I recognize the smell from the special the tea shop
had last time I visited downtown to take in a movie."
Jack adopted a tone of shocked disbelief. "Noooo. You actually do stuff outside of the mountain?"
"Of course! I have a life outside the SGC, you know."
Several eyebrows at the table were raised simultaneously.
"Seriously, I do."
More raised eyebrows.
"Fine, I have a 'living quarters' outside the SGC. Happy?"
Jack would have given one of his usual sarcastic comebacks had he not seen something else at that moment that intrigued him.
Lieutenant Hailey, the blond hobbit-sized genius officer Sam had recruited for the SGC from the Air Force Academy, stalking across the
room with a look that meant business. Jack followed her path with his eyes and saw the terminus (yes, he knew what that word meant) of
her vector (that one meant foot, right?): lieutenant Grogan, laughing and lounging with a couple of other junior officers of SG-4.
"Carter, you're pint-sized protégée is about to start something."
Sam turned in her seat. "Uh-oh. Grogan's in for it."
Jonas craned his neck to see. "Too bad, I always liked him. Reminds me of you, Colonel."
"What are you talking about, he's nothing like-" Jacks next words were stolen from his throat before they could be uttered by
what came next.
Hailey gained a little speed, now in a light jog, and at five feet from Grogan, dived at him. The two fell to the floor, Hailey
sprawled on top of the larger Grogan. He never got out a word of protest, because Hailey immediately began to make out with him. It
seemed no one was more surprised by this than Grogan, by the look of it. Didn't seem to stop him from returning the gesture a moment
later, though.
"Well, that's new," Jack couldn't help but say.
"Lieutenants," Sam yelled at them.
Hailey and Grogan immediately disengaged themselves from one another and stood up, a little shamefacedly. "Sorry, ma'am," they
both said simultaneously.
Sam's expression softened a little. "Maybe the two of you should go someplace else, off-base perhaps, if you want to continue
your previous 'conversation.'"
The two junior officers nodded, then jogged off out of the room.
Quinns face had adopted a confused look. "Is it wrong, what they just did?"
"Yes, Jonas, it is." Jack thought maybe, just this once, he would help the alien out with Earth decorum. Besides, this was the
only type of decorum Jack really knew anything about anyways.
"Oh. So they're not old enough for a relationship?"
"What? No, they're old enough. They couldn't be in the Air Force otherwise."
"Are either of them married?"
"No. Look, you're missing the-"
"A religious law against them seeing each other? A problem with their faiths?"
Daniel, Janet, and Sam were holding back laughs by now and Teal'c had a slight smile on his face. "No, now shut up and listen-"
"Oh, maybe a health issue? One of them has a condition or a disease, maybe?"
"SHUT IT, JONAS!"
The polite alien nearly fell out of his seat at O'Neills outburst. Daniel winced. "Ok, that's one deaf ear. Jack care to move
to the other side and balance things out?"
"Quite, Daniel." Jack turned his attention back to Jonas. "Jonas, those two can't be caught doing...what they were doing
because that sort of thing is forbidden in the military."
"Oh," realization dawned on Quinns face. Then he became confused, again. 'He's like that WAY too much.' "So, how come you guys
weren't brought up on charges those times when you were," the alien searched for the correct word, "involved in such ventures?"
'Did he just call Laira a 'venture?!' Jack sighed in annoyance and frustration. "Because it's only between two military
officers that this is forbidden, Jonas."
'Ah, got it Colonel, thanks."
"My pleasure." 'Darn it, there's not enough sarcasm in the world for that statement.'zJack would have refused to look at Jonas
any further had a loud BANG not come from Jonas' mouth. He whirled his head around just in time to see Quinn going flying backwards off
his chair and impact with a passing Sergeant Siler.
Teal'c and Janet were soon on their feet, helping both men recover from the unexpected effects of...what?
Carter beat Jack to the punch. "Jonas, your pizza did that?"
An unsteady looking Jonas Quinn sat down. "Er...I...uh...I mean...what?"
"Your pizza. That's what you were eating? That's what exploded?"
Quinns eyes refocused on Jacks Major. 'Darnit, I've got to stop thinking about her like that, it's not right. She's right,
though, oh so very right. WE would be even MORE right together. Yep, right like a couple of-wait, has anyone noticed I haven't been
here, mentally speaking, for the past fifteen seconds? No? Good, but I better cut this out anyways. Addiction lies down this road.'
With a serious bit of effort, Jack brought his attention back from scenarios of him, Sam, and no interfering regs to Sam and Jonas
talking about exploding pizza. 'Well, not AS interesting as what I was thinking about, but it'll do.'
"I see," Carter murmured. "So it's only the pepperonis that are explosive."
"Does anyone else hear that ringing?" Quinn was shaking his head, trying to expel some imaginary bells from the inside of his
head. Most of them weren't paying attention, though; this sort of thing had become all too common in the SGC today to be fazed by it.
Speaking of which...
"Jack, what's the matter?"
Jack looked at Daniel. "If Jonas' pizza is exploding, I don't even want to *think* about what will happen if I bite into my
burrito."
The archaeologist nodded in agreement. "Good point. You might wind up vaporizing half the base. No telling what a purple
burrito has inside of it."
'*Purple* burrito?' O'Neill examined the object in his hands. Nope, same color as all burritos. "Daniel, my burrito isn't
purple. Why would you-"
"Gah!" Jackson ducked his head. "Would somebody get rid of that parrot?!"
SG-1 and doc Frasier started staring at Daniel like he had grown two extra heads. After a moment he became aware of their stares.
"What," he asked in that of so innocent way of his. 'Hey, that's MY innocent look he's using! Hmm, wonder what else of mine he's been
using lately.'
"Um, Daniel," Sam starting speaking slowly, like she was addressing a toddler, "there's no parrot in the commissary. And the
colonel's burrito is it's normal color, not purple."
"Are you feeling well, DanielJackson?"
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I just wish everyone wasn't wearing tye-dye today." He went back to his tea for a moment. Then he
bellowed over his shoulder, "Will somebody turn off that damn rap music?!"
'Okay, ignore your best friend who has currently gone psycho. That's MacKenzie's department. There's a baked potato that needs
eating.' Jack took his knife and cut down the center of the veggie, then took his fork and stabbed deep into the innards of the potato.
Expecting resistance, he pulled to get the thing to split open. Imagine his surprise when his arm, completely without his permission,
went totally overboard and instead knocked his glass of water all over Daniel.
"AAAAHHHH! IT BURNS, GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF!" The young man started thrashing and lashing about before falling
backwards off his chair. Frasier was at his side in a moment, examining his 'burns.' "Okay, Daniel, it's all right. Let's go down to
the infirmary and get that looked at." Her tone was low, smooth, and soft, almost...motherly? 'It sure smacks of something like that,'
Jack thought.
As they made to leave, Carter asked, "Janet, is he really burned?"
She was quick to answer. "No, the tea is making him...sense things that aren't real. The water's fine. Now, if you'll excuse
us." With that, both doctor disappeared from the room. 'Funny,' Jack thought, 'she seemed in a hurry. Wonder why.'
Teal'c turned to him. "Why did you spill your water on DanielJackson, O'Neill?"
Jack shrugged. "Dunno. I was just using my fork to open up my baked potato when-" Jack suddenly got a good look at his fork, or
rather what was left of it. "Son of a..." The prongs were completely gone; it was like something had dissolved the end of his utensil.
"What the Hell happened to it?"
"Probably the same thing that happened to your knife, sir." Carter pointed to the small lump of metal that once had a dull blade
at one end; now, it was a paperweight.
Out of sheer grim curiosity more than anything else, Jack picked up the fork and slowly drove it into the yellow-white innards of
the baked potato. In a couple of seconds, nothing remained of the stainless steel instrument.
"Amazing," Carter breathed.
"Indeed."
"Well," Jonas thought out loud, "at least it didn't blow up on you Colonel."
"Yeah, lucky me." Jack went through his jumpsuit pockets, looking for a container carrying a durable set of plastic utensils.
"Fortunately, I came prepared." On further experimentation, he found plastic didn't melt in the innards of the potato from Beyond. He
reached for the salt.
"Salt on a baked potato, sir?"
"Baked potatos are boring, Major. It needs this little touch, trust mee-ooucch!"
His potato was on fire! Moments after sprinkling it with salt, the thing had burst into flames, spreading the fire to his
sleeves. Jack started the whole stop-drop-and roll thing that everybody who's been through kindergarden knows, but after fifteen seconds
it still wasn't out! He was about to panic when he felt a cold torrent of wetness engulf him and the heat on his arm dissappate. He
looked up to see a big form holding an empty water jug standing over him. "Thanks Teal'c."
"Of course, O'Neill." The big man helped Jack to his feet. Looking at the now soaked and burnt out remains of his former meal,
Jack felt hunger begin to gnaw at his insides, bringing with it a sense of mounting frustration and, therefore, sarcasm.
"Well, what fun this has been." Jack quipped. "I wonder how we could make it any more interesting?"
"What the Sam Hell is going on in here?!"
'Note to self: must stop inviting wrath of God through witty statements.' Jack turned to see his rotund CO, General George
Hammond charge into the commissary. Astonishment, confusion, and fury arced through his features as he approached the table SG-1 was
sitting at. "Colonel, what's going on here?"
Jack swallowed once, hard. He had only seen Hammond mad like this a few times; none of them were memories he particularly
enjoyed...actually, that wasn't true. There was that one instance in the time loop when he and Teal'c had been doing some golfing
through the Stargate. 'In the middle of my *backswing?! Hehe, yep, I'm still the comeback king.'
"COLONEL!"
"Sir!" Jack jumped off his seat, knocking his knee into the underside of the table in the process. 'OK, owww.'
"Would you mind telling me what exactly is going on in this base?"
Jack didn't miss a beat. "Expeditions to other planets through the Stargate, or as we like to call it in military lingo, deep
space radar telemetry."
Carter held back a laugh at his statement. Any glee Jack might have gotten from that, however, was drained away by the look on
his COs face. "Jack, I'm a hairs breath away from losing it right now. What I've just seen and heard on my way down here is worse than
ANY of the past debacles this base has ever been mired in. I want an explanation, now."
Jack gave a long-suffering sigh. "It's the cook sir."
"What about him?"
"He's a menace, that's what."
Hammond frowned in confusion. "I don't understand, Jack. You're saying the *cook* caused all of this?"
"Yep, exactly."
"He is an evil rivaled only by that of the Goa'uld, GeneralHammond."
"Really, really weird stuff." Jonas picked pieces of explosive pepperoni out of his sandy blonde hair. "Even for Earth dishes."
Carter was up next. "The things that have been coming out of that kitchen, sir...i-it defies the mind how such things can even
be possible. I was working on that Jell-o in my lab with a lithium-argon laser for two hours and I'm telling you, sir, it's impervious
to physical harm."
"So, you're all telling me that the cook is responsible for, among other things," Hammond began counting off on his fingers,
"dozens of officers breaking regs in plain view, sometimes even in the hallways and embarkation room, the waste disposal system being
clogged up by some sort of unidentified super glue, explosions with no identifiable trace of normal chemical munitions material sounding
all over the base, psychotic behavior in a number of people caused by some sort of hallucination, a sticky thirty-eight foot deep hole
being found in the commissary storage closet, a rash of fires breaking out in the crates carrying food supplies for the base, and reports
of a some sort of 'living sludge' now haunting the heating ducts?" Exasperation, annoyance, and disbelief battled for control of the
older mans features. Clearly, he hadn't eaten in the commissary today.
Jack took a moment to tally the score in his head. "Yep, all courtesy of 'biological Ali' in that there kitchen," he indicated
with a wave of his hand.
"I'm sorry, Colonel, but I have trouble believing ANY cook could be that bad."
In answer of his CO's statement, Jack picked up some of the greenish gunk off of Carters' plate and handed it to the General.
Sam's eyes widened, Jonas gaped at Jack's audacity. Teal'c raised an eyebrow. The entire room froze, watching their general, awaiting
his reaction.
With a look that suggested he was a little suspicious but determined to prove Jack wrong on this ridiculous sounding charge,
Hammond took the spoon and swallowed the substance, almost instantaneously choking and gagging on it. "That's it," the general wheezed
between gasps for air, " he's fired. The cook's fired!"
A round of applause the likes of not heard since Apophis' two orbiting motherships went up in flames six years ago swept through
the commissary. Several airmen began to race through the halls of the SGC announcing the good news. Jack was fairly certain he could
hear the rumblings of a round of spontaneous applause break out on the upper levels of the base.
Appearing not to notice the general hullabalo around him, Hammond limped off towards the exit of the commissary. He paused for a
moment in his steps, then turned to Jack. "Colonel, do you know where doctor Frasier is at the moment?"
"Yes sir, she's-"
Carter butted in quickly. "In Daniels quarters, sedating him from the effects of the hallucinogenic tea."
Jack, Teal'c, and Jonas stared curiously at Sam. She turned her 'do as I say or I'll rearrange your leptons' look on all of them
in one quick round-about glare that, somehow, Hammond seemed to miss. "Yessir," Jack added, "that's where they were headed...probably."
Hammond nodded wearily. "Thank you Colonel." Then the older man turned and left. As he left, Jack could have sworn he heard
his boss mutter, "Honestly, you'd think a former Wendy's employee would be a better cook."
The three remaining men turned to Sam. "Well," Jack asked for all of them.
"Janet and Daniel need some time alone, sir," was all she said.
'Enact senior officer voice mode.' "Major..."
"...I think something happened to her because of the pasta."
"Something...like?"
"Something hormonal."
"Major!"
"She had the look of one in a state of skel no mak," Teal'c said.
"Hey, I know what that means," Jonas began. "I think it translates roughly to in heat-oww." The Kelownan jumped slightly. Jack
didn't miss the look Carter flashed him briefly. "-ing ducts...in heating ducts. Yeah, that's it."
"Riiighht. Carter, you could have just said so."
"Really? Hints were strong enough for you, sir?"
"C'mon Carter, you know me; I don't do subtle. In fact I SO don't do it, I don't even know what it is." 'I also don't do smart,
as evidenced by my previous statement.'
Quinn got up from the table. "There's a candy machine two floors up. I'm going to go to it, get my evening meal."
"That one's empty," Carter supplied.
"Okay then, I'll try the one eight floors up."
"Nope, they got that one, too. Carter, I think you, Daniel, and the Doc raided that one particularly early in the day, didn't
you?" The death glare he got from his 2IC was more than enough to confirm his statement.
"...Okaaay, I'll try the one fourteen floors up."
"Also empty," Teal'c supplied.
Quinn gave a heavy sigh. "Well, there's always Dairy Queen."
Carter's eye widened. "Jonas, that's four miles outside of the base and you can't legally drive."
"Major Ferretti owes me a favor, trust me you don't want to know why." With that, he left for sweeter treats.
Not at all surprised that the days meal had yet AGAIN turned psycho (literally in this case), Jack went for plan B: Fruit Loops.
As he got up from the table, he saw Sam open her mouth. "Yeah, I know, Fruit Loops for everyone. Teal'c, your usual ten bowls?"
"Thank you O'Neill, but three will suffice for now."
"Gotcha." He made towards the dry foods storage. He was halfway there when he spotted something odd. "Siler..." The sergeant
was making his way out of the commissary. He had his hand in his coveralls, near a suspicious, box shaped lump. The officer quickened
his pace away from O'Neill. "Sergeant!" There was no doubt in O'Neill's mind now.
Siler took one look over his shoulder at the Colonel, then made a break for the door, cereal box in hand. Jack ran after him.
"Sergeant, get back here with MY FRUIT LOOPS!"
~Finis
// There it is, done. May none of you ever suffer a late dinner fate like this one.
// It begins with an 'r', ends with a 'w', and has 'evie' in the middle. Gimme some of those please, they taste SOOOO good.
// Btw, is a fire stick that thing they use to torture people that makes their eyes and mouth glow? I'm not sure about that detail;
// think can you help me with this?