Insert Title Here
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ // Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate, blah di blah, you've heard it before. Wish I did though...
// Author's note :
// Dedicated to my dear spider plant Albert, who sits on my windowsill slowly dying.
// Sorry, honey.
// Also dedicated to my uncle's university friend, who owned the original boring plants.
// Bwhahaha.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I placed the container carefully on the corner of my desk, stood back and dusted the dirt off my hands satisfactorily.
For an order, I actually didn't mind this too much...
Mackenzie, that lowlife shrink, had decreed that the morale of the SGC was pretty low following the Christmas season.
Jack had muttered that the morale would have been hell of a lot higher if the psychiatrist had not been at the Christmas party with his suspect tortillas.
I am inclined to agree.
So General Hammond listened to him, of course; can't have his men getting depressed now, can we?
Mackenzie's answer?
Plants.
Plants to uplift the spirit and make the base a brighter place.
My ass.
"Since when has a damn plant ever made me feel better?" yelled Jack, as the airman at the door with his leafy package cringed.
But we're underground, right?
So not ordinary plants.
No no.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Doctor Jackson," the General had come up to me before a briefing, about a week ago.
I looked sideways at him. When the General used that tone, there had to be a favour.
"Do you recall the debrief report you made for P9Y-450?"
I raised my eyebrows and then frowned.
Suuuure I was going to remember those P numbers for every planet we visited.
"The one with the temples you said were reminiscent of Ancient Babylon?"
That jogged a memory. I remembered standing and staring in wonder around at the huge step pyramids, foliage spraying everywhere and blossoms dancing on the breeze. The greenery even extended deep inside the buildings, flourishing in alien darkness.
Photosynthesising with infra-red, Sam said. Pretty, in a way.
Plants in general are pretty. Mostly pretty boring.
It made you yearn for the Ancient Hanging Gardens of Babylon; a pang crossed me as I also recalled that the site of those same gardens were slap bang in the middle of Iraq. Not so safe for an archaeologist there right now.
"Doctor?"
Yeah, yeah I remember. What about them?
The underground red-blossomed spider-plant thingies. Oh yes.
According to the inscriptions on the pyramids themselves, those particular plants were the delight of the people of the city.
Were they potent narcotics, that kind of delight?
Uh, don't think so. Just pretty. And underground. Of course, if I'd been allowed to stay and study further, instead of dragged off towards the pretty generator...
That earned me a dark look from both Jack and Sam.
Deal with it, machine-obsessed friends.
"Well, Doctor, I think you've just been allowed to go back. SG-13 are off there this afternoon."
Whatever for?
They're going to collect plants?
Ah well. Another chance to study those great inscriptions!
Cut out the sarcasm. I'm serious.
There must have been something in my face, because Jack just rolled his eyes, and Sam ducked her head, the way she always does when she's hiding a smile. Teal'c reacted normally.
You know, the eyebrow shooting off the top of the head?
I don't know. You'd think, after all these years, my team would be a little more tolerant?
Chah.
ANYWAY, SG-13 and I rattled off to P9Y-450. Got to copy down more translations whilst soldiers harvested pretty spider plants.
Got shanghaied into carrying said pretty plants as well.
Joy.
Pretty BORING, as I said.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Listen up!" said General Hammond.
Most of the SGC personnel were hanging around the commissary. Jack was in a sulk and hiding in his office.
Probably because the Gate Room was stacked with flowers.
I'm guessing the airmen weren't finding it too great either.
I digress.
General Hammond decreed that every room in the base had to have one of these spider plants in it.
Why?
Morale.
Won't they die?
Special alien underground plants. Deal with it.
Damn, was the word etched into most faces.
I'm not too fussed; plants are pretty boring, but nice, in a way.
Better not say that in front of Jack.
Risk being labelled a pansy again.
Just had to be in Jack's office to see his reaction, though.
I already told you, right?
Ha, ha, ha.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Daniel?"
Sam poked an entreating face around my door.
I looked up, setting down the teapot.
No, I have not converted from coffee!
I was using the teapot as a watering can, of course.
For George.
George is my alien spider plant.
Why the hell is it called George?
Just because.
Say hello to George, the boring plant.
Sam is the only one who knows about George's name.
Cannot face mass ridicule if Jack found out.
Cannot face scary General if he finds out about name either.
Sam had come into my office, warily looking about as if she was about to be discovered doing something bad.
She was carrying a spider plant, too.
Why'd you bring that?
You want me to look after it?
But the orders...
Ah, it's cluttering up your lab. Just while you do this particular experiment.
I shrugged. Can't see a problem with that.
Sam smiled with relief, and carefully set down her plant next to mine.
Then left – rather hurriedly, as I recall.
Anyway, stuck with Sam's equally boring plant for a few days.
I looked at it critically. She didn't seem to have been watering it too well...
Okay, these plants need no natural sunlight, but they still needed water!
I gave it a judicious sprinkling.
Not really fair, seeing it next to healthy George.
Decide to write pointed label and stick it on, for when ...it.. was returned to Sam.
It.
What the hell, it can be called George, too.
Finished writing out label.
GEORGE, A BORING PLANT.
Ha.
Water it anyway.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, getting more than a little ridiculous now.
First it was Teal'c.
Daniel Jackson, this plant form is preventing me from Kel'nor'eeming productively.
You what?!
How can a plant... oh, never mind.
George now sits on the desk, with George, a boring plant, and George, another boring plant.
Teal'c had also been neglecting George. Another pointed label is in evidence.
Next, Jack wandered in a few days later. I was busy sorting out my files from the obelisk writings on P7J-881.
What?!?!
Find your own damn coffee, Jack! That substance is not allowed from my sight!
Huh?
Am now forced to explain presence of George, George and George.
Refuse to explain name choice!
Wonder to self on choice of name, too.
Maybe its because they're so borin- no!
Am blackmailed into taking Jack's plant into care.
I hate it when he grins like that and calls me spacemonkey.
I also hate it when I'm forced to do stuff for him, just because he knows about the whole green-Jell-o-and-imaginary-Janet incident.
Cringe.
Mmmm...
Green Jell-o and Janet...
Did I just say that out loud?
Eheheheh....
Shut up, okay! It was a dream! And then it... okay, you don't need to know.
Am exceptionally annoyed by blatant blackmail attempt.
Jack now owns George, an EXTREMELY boring plant.
Hah.
Actually, I'd be surprised if it survives. I don't think Jack watered it once.
Hmm... the desk is getting a bit crowded now...
I'll move George over on top of the computer monitor.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!
Crap, I'm picking up Jack habits now...
That was Sergeant Siler who just left. He'd better secure that Snickers bar stash.
Or else George, the likewise boring plant, will die!
Muhahaha!
Cursed as discovered not enough boring epithets to label all these plants.
I swear more appeared overnight. Okay, I'm supposed to be looking after nine, but where did these other five come from??
Resort to writing label in Babylonian.
Water the hordes of Georges.
Curse again at my tender-hearted ways.
Try and sit down at desk again, and attempt to work.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That's it.
No more Mr Nice Archaeologist.
I absolutely refuse to care for all of these plants! No matter how much water they need!
I moved the one blocking the door and sighed, flicking on the light switch as I began the day, an hour earlier than everyone else because of those damned Jaffa transcripts.
Ouch, George doesn't look so good. He's new; I can tell, because he's slap bang in the middle of my files.
That makes 34.
Decide to hatch a cunning plan.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I picked up George, an excessively boring plant.
George was the only plant left, sitting innocently on the corner of my desk. He can stay there; no point in me getting into trouble, is there?
I know exactly where this spider plant is going, however.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"WHAT THE SAM HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?!?"
General Hammond's yell echoed around Cheyenne Mountain. I swear the trees on the top must have trembled.
I jumped up from my desk and ran innocently and hurriedly towards the noise, meeting Sam, Jack and several airmen on the way.
We got to General Hammond's office.
Or at least, the doorway of his office.
Beware the dread General face.
"Are these plants not supposed to be, each one, looked after and kept by each one of you?"
Uh-oh. Sweetness of tone is not good in angry people.
"And perhaps one of you might care to explain why every – single – one – is labelled GEORGE???"
"That's their names, sir," said Jack without thinking.
Excellent.
Right into the trap.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jack is now trying to explain the reason why the spider plants are there. He tried to tell the truth, poor guy.
I lied outright, of course.
Me, mild-mannered Doctor Jackson, commit plant abuse?
This could only be the diabolical work of one grey-haired Colonel.
Hah.
That pays back for the blackmail thing.
Sam nearly got me caught though. Luckily, today she's on my side.
In your face, Jack!
What's that, General?
Why are some of the labels in Babylonian?
.......
Oh crap.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Nooo!
Ultimate humility!
Entire base, or at least those personnel without plants, are cautioned.
Even Chevron Guy is having to do morning chores in the commissary with most of the airmen who had 'mislaid' George.
Teal'c got to catalogue stores.
Sam got to help him – un-computer aided.
Kinda funny.
This isn't though.
"Pass that bucket back up here, Danny! Or else!"
Or else what, Jack? I get soapy water on my glasses again?
Actually, that's pretty annoying.
So's scrubbing the Stargate.
Have you any idea how high that thing is?
How precise and detailed the carvings are?
How difficult it is to clean with a TOOTHBRUSH?
That's not the worst though. Jack got the last line.
Double-crossing bastard.
When we've finished this, I have to endure Janet's questions on green Jell- o.
He is SO dead.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ \\ It was late at night, I was young and foolish, I confess... Endure the lame humour. Just tell me how to make it better by pressing that little review button!
\\ DO IT NOW!
\\ ....
\\ ^-^;
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ // Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate, blah di blah, you've heard it before. Wish I did though...
// Author's note :
// Dedicated to my dear spider plant Albert, who sits on my windowsill slowly dying.
// Sorry, honey.
// Also dedicated to my uncle's university friend, who owned the original boring plants.
// Bwhahaha.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I placed the container carefully on the corner of my desk, stood back and dusted the dirt off my hands satisfactorily.
For an order, I actually didn't mind this too much...
Mackenzie, that lowlife shrink, had decreed that the morale of the SGC was pretty low following the Christmas season.
Jack had muttered that the morale would have been hell of a lot higher if the psychiatrist had not been at the Christmas party with his suspect tortillas.
I am inclined to agree.
So General Hammond listened to him, of course; can't have his men getting depressed now, can we?
Mackenzie's answer?
Plants.
Plants to uplift the spirit and make the base a brighter place.
My ass.
"Since when has a damn plant ever made me feel better?" yelled Jack, as the airman at the door with his leafy package cringed.
But we're underground, right?
So not ordinary plants.
No no.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Doctor Jackson," the General had come up to me before a briefing, about a week ago.
I looked sideways at him. When the General used that tone, there had to be a favour.
"Do you recall the debrief report you made for P9Y-450?"
I raised my eyebrows and then frowned.
Suuuure I was going to remember those P numbers for every planet we visited.
"The one with the temples you said were reminiscent of Ancient Babylon?"
That jogged a memory. I remembered standing and staring in wonder around at the huge step pyramids, foliage spraying everywhere and blossoms dancing on the breeze. The greenery even extended deep inside the buildings, flourishing in alien darkness.
Photosynthesising with infra-red, Sam said. Pretty, in a way.
Plants in general are pretty. Mostly pretty boring.
It made you yearn for the Ancient Hanging Gardens of Babylon; a pang crossed me as I also recalled that the site of those same gardens were slap bang in the middle of Iraq. Not so safe for an archaeologist there right now.
"Doctor?"
Yeah, yeah I remember. What about them?
The underground red-blossomed spider-plant thingies. Oh yes.
According to the inscriptions on the pyramids themselves, those particular plants were the delight of the people of the city.
Were they potent narcotics, that kind of delight?
Uh, don't think so. Just pretty. And underground. Of course, if I'd been allowed to stay and study further, instead of dragged off towards the pretty generator...
That earned me a dark look from both Jack and Sam.
Deal with it, machine-obsessed friends.
"Well, Doctor, I think you've just been allowed to go back. SG-13 are off there this afternoon."
Whatever for?
They're going to collect plants?
Ah well. Another chance to study those great inscriptions!
Cut out the sarcasm. I'm serious.
There must have been something in my face, because Jack just rolled his eyes, and Sam ducked her head, the way she always does when she's hiding a smile. Teal'c reacted normally.
You know, the eyebrow shooting off the top of the head?
I don't know. You'd think, after all these years, my team would be a little more tolerant?
Chah.
ANYWAY, SG-13 and I rattled off to P9Y-450. Got to copy down more translations whilst soldiers harvested pretty spider plants.
Got shanghaied into carrying said pretty plants as well.
Joy.
Pretty BORING, as I said.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Listen up!" said General Hammond.
Most of the SGC personnel were hanging around the commissary. Jack was in a sulk and hiding in his office.
Probably because the Gate Room was stacked with flowers.
I'm guessing the airmen weren't finding it too great either.
I digress.
General Hammond decreed that every room in the base had to have one of these spider plants in it.
Why?
Morale.
Won't they die?
Special alien underground plants. Deal with it.
Damn, was the word etched into most faces.
I'm not too fussed; plants are pretty boring, but nice, in a way.
Better not say that in front of Jack.
Risk being labelled a pansy again.
Just had to be in Jack's office to see his reaction, though.
I already told you, right?
Ha, ha, ha.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Daniel?"
Sam poked an entreating face around my door.
I looked up, setting down the teapot.
No, I have not converted from coffee!
I was using the teapot as a watering can, of course.
For George.
George is my alien spider plant.
Why the hell is it called George?
Just because.
Say hello to George, the boring plant.
Sam is the only one who knows about George's name.
Cannot face mass ridicule if Jack found out.
Cannot face scary General if he finds out about name either.
Sam had come into my office, warily looking about as if she was about to be discovered doing something bad.
She was carrying a spider plant, too.
Why'd you bring that?
You want me to look after it?
But the orders...
Ah, it's cluttering up your lab. Just while you do this particular experiment.
I shrugged. Can't see a problem with that.
Sam smiled with relief, and carefully set down her plant next to mine.
Then left – rather hurriedly, as I recall.
Anyway, stuck with Sam's equally boring plant for a few days.
I looked at it critically. She didn't seem to have been watering it too well...
Okay, these plants need no natural sunlight, but they still needed water!
I gave it a judicious sprinkling.
Not really fair, seeing it next to healthy George.
Decide to write pointed label and stick it on, for when ...it.. was returned to Sam.
It.
What the hell, it can be called George, too.
Finished writing out label.
GEORGE, A BORING PLANT.
Ha.
Water it anyway.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, getting more than a little ridiculous now.
First it was Teal'c.
Daniel Jackson, this plant form is preventing me from Kel'nor'eeming productively.
You what?!
How can a plant... oh, never mind.
George now sits on the desk, with George, a boring plant, and George, another boring plant.
Teal'c had also been neglecting George. Another pointed label is in evidence.
Next, Jack wandered in a few days later. I was busy sorting out my files from the obelisk writings on P7J-881.
What?!?!
Find your own damn coffee, Jack! That substance is not allowed from my sight!
Huh?
Am now forced to explain presence of George, George and George.
Refuse to explain name choice!
Wonder to self on choice of name, too.
Maybe its because they're so borin- no!
Am blackmailed into taking Jack's plant into care.
I hate it when he grins like that and calls me spacemonkey.
I also hate it when I'm forced to do stuff for him, just because he knows about the whole green-Jell-o-and-imaginary-Janet incident.
Cringe.
Mmmm...
Green Jell-o and Janet...
Did I just say that out loud?
Eheheheh....
Shut up, okay! It was a dream! And then it... okay, you don't need to know.
Am exceptionally annoyed by blatant blackmail attempt.
Jack now owns George, an EXTREMELY boring plant.
Hah.
Actually, I'd be surprised if it survives. I don't think Jack watered it once.
Hmm... the desk is getting a bit crowded now...
I'll move George over on top of the computer monitor.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!
Crap, I'm picking up Jack habits now...
That was Sergeant Siler who just left. He'd better secure that Snickers bar stash.
Or else George, the likewise boring plant, will die!
Muhahaha!
Cursed as discovered not enough boring epithets to label all these plants.
I swear more appeared overnight. Okay, I'm supposed to be looking after nine, but where did these other five come from??
Resort to writing label in Babylonian.
Water the hordes of Georges.
Curse again at my tender-hearted ways.
Try and sit down at desk again, and attempt to work.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That's it.
No more Mr Nice Archaeologist.
I absolutely refuse to care for all of these plants! No matter how much water they need!
I moved the one blocking the door and sighed, flicking on the light switch as I began the day, an hour earlier than everyone else because of those damned Jaffa transcripts.
Ouch, George doesn't look so good. He's new; I can tell, because he's slap bang in the middle of my files.
That makes 34.
Decide to hatch a cunning plan.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I picked up George, an excessively boring plant.
George was the only plant left, sitting innocently on the corner of my desk. He can stay there; no point in me getting into trouble, is there?
I know exactly where this spider plant is going, however.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"WHAT THE SAM HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?!?"
General Hammond's yell echoed around Cheyenne Mountain. I swear the trees on the top must have trembled.
I jumped up from my desk and ran innocently and hurriedly towards the noise, meeting Sam, Jack and several airmen on the way.
We got to General Hammond's office.
Or at least, the doorway of his office.
Beware the dread General face.
"Are these plants not supposed to be, each one, looked after and kept by each one of you?"
Uh-oh. Sweetness of tone is not good in angry people.
"And perhaps one of you might care to explain why every – single – one – is labelled GEORGE???"
"That's their names, sir," said Jack without thinking.
Excellent.
Right into the trap.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jack is now trying to explain the reason why the spider plants are there. He tried to tell the truth, poor guy.
I lied outright, of course.
Me, mild-mannered Doctor Jackson, commit plant abuse?
This could only be the diabolical work of one grey-haired Colonel.
Hah.
That pays back for the blackmail thing.
Sam nearly got me caught though. Luckily, today she's on my side.
In your face, Jack!
What's that, General?
Why are some of the labels in Babylonian?
.......
Oh crap.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Nooo!
Ultimate humility!
Entire base, or at least those personnel without plants, are cautioned.
Even Chevron Guy is having to do morning chores in the commissary with most of the airmen who had 'mislaid' George.
Teal'c got to catalogue stores.
Sam got to help him – un-computer aided.
Kinda funny.
This isn't though.
"Pass that bucket back up here, Danny! Or else!"
Or else what, Jack? I get soapy water on my glasses again?
Actually, that's pretty annoying.
So's scrubbing the Stargate.
Have you any idea how high that thing is?
How precise and detailed the carvings are?
How difficult it is to clean with a TOOTHBRUSH?
That's not the worst though. Jack got the last line.
Double-crossing bastard.
When we've finished this, I have to endure Janet's questions on green Jell- o.
He is SO dead.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ \\ It was late at night, I was young and foolish, I confess... Endure the lame humour. Just tell me how to make it better by pressing that little review button!
\\ DO IT NOW!
\\ ....
\\ ^-^;