By the time he'd left the elevator and headed across the lobby towards the restaurant, Jack was feeling just a little guilty for what he'd done to the kid's stick. Just a little, mind you. Maybe he'd overreacted just a little. Of course he hated being ambushed, so that was part of it, he hated being forced to come to some convention about some books he'd never read, and that was another part of it. And he was frustrated beyond belief. Which was just adding to his grumpiness. All that had simply combined, and the kid had taken the brunt of his bad mood. Well… the kid's stick had. It wasn't like he'd beat him over the head with the thing or something, after all.
By the time Jack had waded through a growing crowd of screaming kids – all dressed in cloaks or weird robes and carrying broomsticks, sticks – which he'd now figured out were supposed to be magic wands – and the occasional frog (and one kid even had a white rat in his hand that Jack had overheard him call Scabbers) O'Neill was wishing he'd never heard of Harry Potter and wasn't feeling guilty at all for what he'd done. Disappearing into the sanctuary of the bar section of the bar and grill – a place that no children could follow him – he breathed a sigh of relief, and headed for the bar.
"Good afternoon."
He nodded at the bartender's greeting, looking at his watch. It was barely noon, and he was already feeling like he'd been up for days.
"Hi. How about a menu, a beer and some aspirin?"
The bartender smiled.
"Which order?"
"Surprise me."
He sat down at the bar, rubbing his temples, and the bartender slid him a menu, with a package of aspirin tablets on top of it. A moment later a glass of ice water followed.
"Thanks."
"You look like you've had a long day…"
Jack looked over at the speaker – it wasn't the bartender – and saw that a woman had joined him. She was older than he was, but he couldn't be sure how much older, and didn't look at all like she was anywhere near ready to slow down. She looked about as tired as he felt, though, and he found himself wondering if she had some kids here at the convention that she was herding around and had come for a little time away from them. Which made him feel an instant kinship with her.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," O'Neill told her, shaking his head, and taking the beer the bartender handed him with a nod of thanks.
She gave him a tight smile.
"I'd believe it. Are you here for the convention?"
He nodded, popping the aspirin and washing down with the water. And then shook his head.
"I'm not. Not really. But my friend – friends – are. I haven't even read the books."
"Have you seen the movies?"
"They have movies?"
She smiled, and this one was more amused.
"Obviously you're not a fan."
"It shows, huh?"
"A little."
The bartender handed him a beer, and looked at the woman, expectantly. She gestured towards Jack's beer.
"I'll have one of those."
"Coming right up."
"Are you?" Jack asked.
"Am I what?"
"Here for the convention."
She nodded.
"More or less."
"Meaning?"
She smiled.
"Meaning I'm not here because I have a child or children to watch over, but I'm here to keep track of things."
"Oh."
He had to admit that he kind of liked this lady. Or maybe he was just desperate for someone to talk to that wasn't waving a magic wand in his face and wearing a lighting bolt on his forehead. He stuck his hand out.
"I'm Jack."
She took his hand, and he wasn't surprised that she had a firm grip.
"Minerva."
OOOOOOOOOOO
"Well… it looks like there are a number of different things we can sign you up for Teal'c."
The three remaining members of SG-1 had made their way down to the lobby of the hotel as well, where people were checking in and also checking out the schedule of events for the convention the next two days. While there wasn't anything official on the books for that night, they had already overheard several plans for getting together and watching movies or reading books, and one dueling club – which made Daniel wonder just what weapons they'd be using – and why the parents standing around didn't seem to mind at all.
"There's Quidditch in the morning," Sam continued.
"What's that?" Daniel asked.
"Quidditch? It's the wizard sport… soccer played on brooms, basically."
"Several hundred feet in the air," Teal'c added.
Daniel gave them an incredulous look, and realized that this was another chance to try and prove to Teal'c that none of it was real.
"So… you think they'll be flying around on broomsticks, then?"
"Of course not, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said.
Daniel smiled. Maybe they were getting through to him, after all.
"Young wizards are not allowed to perform magic outside of school. Undoubtedly they will merely be giving a demonstration of how the sport is played, using regular broomsticks which do not fly."
Daniel sighed.
"I think I'll go see what Jack's doing."
"What about the schedule?" Sam asked.
"Just sign me up for whatever you guys are doing… I'll meet you guys later in the room – or in the restaurant, if you decide you're hungry."
"We'll be there shortly," Sam said. She'd need something to drink, soon, she was sure.
