"No"
"Yes"
"No"
"Yes"
"NO"
"YES"
"Jack, I'm hanging up." Daniel grumbled into his home phone as he paced his bedroom in front of an empty suitcase, which had been shoved off his desk onto the floor earlier in a one-minute tantrum.
He had known since yesterday that his vote to go on the fishing trip instead of bother with the hassle of sending Jack to a deserted planet was going to turn his allotted downtime into a tedious week of boredom and guilt, the result of which were frequent fits that Dr. Jackson had gotten in the habit of having whenever Jack imposed his outrageous personality upon him.
The boredom came when he remembered there was absolutely nothing to do at Jack's cabin except for sitting by the lake and playing Homicide with Teal'c, a game that was their own elaborated version of Clue, but whoever lost had to attempt to kill Jack in whatever way the perpetrator in the game had ended up doing it to the victim.
It was twisted fun in its own way, because Jack had no idea how many times he'd come close to almost getting whacked in the kitchen with a candlestick by Teal'c wearing a Mrs. Peacock gown.
But even carving knives, Colonel Mustard, and billiard rooms lost their appeal after a while.
The guilt would emerge from all the hours Daniel was inevitably going to waste playing that game of the mentally unstable when he could be doing research or going on some digs around his own home planet.
The Archeologists simply could not remove the sound of his lonely books from his mind as he locked up his office at the SGC for the week. They pleaded with him by flipping their pages back and forth as he did some tidying here and there before shutting off the lights. The words written on every piece of their ancient paper fluttered up and around the room spelling out messages of longing to him, expressing their desire to be read for eternal days on end.
Daniel whimpered as he paused in his pacing to afford a moment of reverent silence towards the poor, neglected babies.
He had tried to call Sam that morning to change yesterday's fatal vote but the line had been occupied by the man whose sole purpose in life during his downtime was to make sure his former teammates were properly attired for the adventurous sport of casting fishing lures into a lake that hadn't seen a catch worthy creature since Jack had pushed Daniel into it last Summer.
"Daniel, if you hang up on me I'll kidnap your collection of 17th Century exploratory logs and stuff them into a sea worthy crate that is booked for a ride on the next wave of the California coast"
Daniel whimpered again, "I hate you" he sniffed bitterly.
"I am to delighted to hear that for the twentieth time this month, seventy-second time this year, and eleven thousand, eight hundred, and sixty fourth time in the whole decade I've known you" Jack tallied in response, "Now you are going to pack that light brown button up shirt with the beige Dockers, and for the last time, YES YOU WILL WEAR IT"
Daniel muttered curses to himself in an old, Arabian dialect as he yanked out the two items and tossed them in a rebellious manner into his suitcase before sitting down on his bed to mope.
"Good boy" Jack cooed derisively, "I promise I'll buy you a huge supply of your favorite cappuccino once we get to Minnesota"
Daniel perked reluctantly at this statement, "With the caramel melt whipped topping and cinnamon bakery spices?" he asked hopefully.
"Yea, and those little chocolate ships you like"
"Okay" Danny replied, suddenly all affection and snuggly attitude at the mere mention of his favorite caffeine treat.
When it came to coffee, Daniel was like a fluffy cat: he would pounce around stubbornly with his head in the air if you commanded him to do something he didn't like, but wave a cup of fresh java under his nose and he'll be purring to do your bidding for the rest of the day.
"But we have to go to Minnesota before we can get coffee, and we have to pack before we can leave for Minnesota" Jack reminded him, "So get out that linen fabric t-shirt with the gray stitching and those white jean shorts"
Daniel obeyed willingly now that he had an image of frothy, swirling, liquid bliss in his mind.
"And the violet shirt with those dressy slacks, the ones Lt. Manson gave you as thanks for helping her make Dr. Finchmen jealous enough to finally ask her out"
Daniel studied the pants he held, "That's where I got these?"
Jack sighed, "Daniel, the fact that I remember the story behind a product of your exploits with a red headed rocket, who is so hot she can melt snow just by standing in it, with more clarity than you is simply against every code of male nature"
Daniel thought for a moment, but all he recalled of the incident with Lt. Manson was some surface flirting to motivate the man of her affections into taking action. Not to deny that the Lieutenant was beautiful, but Daniel saw no reason why him having done a favor for a friend should be a prominent memory.
"Sadly, I have no time to remind you just how oblivious you are to the female species even though seventy percent of them are more than aware of you. Teal'c's having a hard time choosing hats" Jack said, "If I find anything plaid in your luggage when I do a preliminary check before we leave this afternoon you can forget the cappuccinos"