"No way."
"Yes! I swear."
"Seriously? Teal'c?" Sam asked.
"If you met him, you'd see it too," Cassie assured from the other end of the phone line.
"All right, I believe you. So, I bet your professor doesn't have much trouble keeping control of the class then."
"Nope. They're all terrified of him." Cassie laughed. "I'm the only one who's had the guts to go up and talk to him."
"Good for you!"
"Thanks. He marked an answer on my test wrong, but I knew it was right. Angie warned me not to say anything, because he'd fail me or kick me out of class for it." She chuckled before finishing, "I think they all would have dragged me back to my seat if they weren't afraid of bringing his wrath upon themselves. He was really nice about it, though. That's when I knew he was just like Teal'c: big, foreboding exterior, but a total softy on the inside."
Sam laughed. "That's Teal'c, all right. Of course, you've never seen him take on a System Lord."
"Oh, I know nobody can kick butt like my Uncle T." Cassie laughed. "Speaking of which, I know a few guys I might like to have him take care of, so to speak."
"Just give him a call. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to help."
She laughed, then added, "Honestly, I might."
"Uh oh. That bad?"
"No, not really," she admitted. "It's just that guy I told you about. Now he's started sending me flowers. They've shown up every week for a month. I've tried to turn him down gently, but he just doesn't seem to get it."
"I'm far from an expert on these things, Cassie, but I think you need to be direct. The longer you let him go on thinking he has a chance, the worse it's going to be for him."
"I know, but I don't want to be a total bitch."
"Cassie, sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind." She quickly amended, "But still try to be nice about it. Don't crush the guy, but make it clear that you're not interested."
Sam heard a long sigh come across the line. "You're right." A smile was more than evidence in Cassie's voice as she added, "What would I do without a wise old woman like you giving me advice."
"Hey, I'm not that old!"
"You're only as old as you feel, right?" Cassie's laughter was interrupted by a loud knocking sound. "Can you hang on a second, Sam? Somebody's at my door."
"Sure." Sam flipped through her TV Guide as she waited for Cassie to return, hearing the faint sound of jumbled teenaged voices through the receiver. Moments later, Cassie returned. "Sorry 'bout that."
She tossed the magazine back on the table. "You got company?"
"Yeah. My friends from down the hall just showed up. We're gonna study for awhile, then catch a movie."
"Sounds fun. I'll let you go, then. Will I see you next weekend?"
"Yep. I'll be there."
"Okay. See you then. Love you, Cass."
"Love you too."
Sam hung up the phone and headed for the kitchen. She hadn't eaten all day, and it was already 4 pm. She hadn't been hungry, but now she was starving. She opened the refrigerator and was instantly disappointed by what she saw. Half-eaten takeout food and condiments. Closing it, she opened the freezer and was greeted with equal disappointment. Not even a frozen dinner. She hadn't been grocery shopping in over two weeks.
Hoping for a stockpile of canned or dried goods, she headed for the cabinets. The selection there was sparse, made up mostly of foods that had found their way into the cabinet long ago but had never found their way out. Popcorn, soup mix, mac 'n cheese, canned pears, frosting. -- She often bought frosting with the intention of putting it on a cake. Not once had it ever made it that far nor had she ever actually made a cake to put it on.
She continued her search. A can of French fried onions caught her attention. She'd bought them intending to make one of those casserole dishes she liked, but she really had no idea how to cook one. She knew it involved green beans and the onions went on top, but beyond that, she was clueless. She'd always meant to look up a recipe for it, but here they were over a year later, still occupying space in her cabinet. Who was she kidding? She was never going to make a casserole. Sam Carter and cooking did not mesh. She grabbed the onions, contemplating whether they would be a good snack on their own. Looking at the label, she realized that there was a recipe right there on the back waiting for her. "Huh. Why didn't I see that before," she muttered as she put the can back, holding out hope that she might one day eat that casserole after all.
She opened the next cabinet, and before she could scour it, the phone rang. It took two rings before she reached the caller I.D. It read 'Jackson, Daniel'.
She didn't answer. After the fourth ring, her machine picked up, and she heard a familiar voice speaking in a calm, formal tone.
"Colonel-Doctor Samantha Carter. This is Doctor Daniel Jackson. I have a naquada reactor here that's going to blow up if I don't get help immediately. Please pick up the phone. This is a life and death situation."
Sam knew Daniel well enough to realize that there was no impending doom. Along with his tone of voice, the "Colonel-Doctor" had been the most obvious giveaway. Though he'd never used that particular title before, "Captain-Doctor" had been a common nickname he'd used when they first met. He'd even called her "Major-Doctor" once or twice, but only when he was merely pretending to address her formally.
Daniel continued, "Not buying it huh? Well, call me back by tomorrow, or I'm going to make a request to send the entire Air Force to your house to check on you." He paused for several seconds. "Seriously though, Sam, I wish you'd to talk to me. I want to know--"
She picked up the phone and interrupted him, "Hello, Daniel."
She heard the smile in his voice, "Hey!" She could picture his expression. It had to be his 'I'm too adorable for you to be upset with me' smile. "How's your day been?"
"Good. It's been good. "
"I'm glad." He paused. "I've been wanting to talk to you, and I was really hoping you'd let me buy you dinner as a peace offering."
"Why should you make the offering? I'm the one who screwed up."
"Hmm. . . good point. You should buy."
"Daniel, I think that's where you were supposed to tell me I didn't screw up," she joked.
"Sam, I shouldn't have to tell you this again, but you didn't screw up."
The corners of her mouth crept upward. "Thanks, Daniel."
"No problem." He was smiling again as he asked, "So. . . does that mean I still have to pay?"
"It does now," she joked with a giggle, temporarily forgetting the complication that had arisen in their friendship.
"Great! I'll pick you up at seven. Dress nice."
Before she could refuse, the line went dead. When did he learn to do that? Sam wondered as her stomach rumbled. She shrugged. She ought to at least find a snack to tide her over until dinner.
"No way."
"Yes! I swear."
"Seriously? Teal'c?" Sam asked.
"If you met him, you'd see it too," Cassie assured from the other end of the phone line.
"All right, I believe you. So, I bet your professor doesn't have much trouble keeping control of the class then."
"Nope. They're all terrified of him." Cassie laughed. "I'm the only one who's had the guts to go up and talk to him."
"Good for you!"
"Thanks. He marked an answer on my test wrong, but I knew it was right. Angie warned me not to say anything, because he'd fail me or kick me out of class for it." She chuckled before finishing, "I think they all would have dragged me back to my seat if they weren't afraid of bringing his wrath upon themselves. He was really nice about it, though. That's when I knew he was just like Teal'c: big, foreboding exterior, but a total softy on the inside."
Sam laughed. "That's Teal'c, all right. Of course, you've never seen him take on a System Lord."
"Oh, I know nobody can kick butt like my Uncle T." Cassie laughed. "Speaking of which, I know a few guys I might like to have him take care of, so to speak."
"Just give him a call. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to help."
She laughed, then added, "Honestly, I might."
"Uh oh. That bad?"
"No, not really," she admitted. "It's just that guy I told you about. Now he's started sending me flowers. They've shown up every week for a month. I've tried to turn him down gently, but he just doesn't seem to get it."
"I'm far from an expert on these things, Cassie, but I think you need to be direct. The longer you let him go on thinking he has a chance, the worse it's going to be for him."
"I know, but I don't want to be a total bitch."
"Cassie, sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind." She quickly amended, "But still try to be nice about it. Don't crush the guy, but make it clear that you're not interested."
Sam heard a long sigh come across the line. "You're right." A smile was more than evidence in Cassie's voice as she added, "What would I do without a wise old woman like you giving me advice."
"Hey, I'm not that old!"
"You're only as old as you feel, right?" Cassie's laughter was interrupted by a loud knocking sound. "Can you hang on a second, Sam? Somebody's at my door."
"Sure." Sam flipped through her TV Guide as she waited for Cassie to return, hearing the faint sound of jumbled teenaged voices through the receiver. Moments later, Cassie returned. "Sorry 'bout that."
She tossed the magazine back on the table. "You got company?"
"Yeah. My friends from down the hall just showed up. We're gonna study for awhile, then catch a movie."
"Sounds fun. I'll let you go, then. Will I see you next weekend?"
"Yep. I'll be there."
"Okay. See you then. Love you, Cass."
"Love you too."
Sam hung up the phone and headed for the kitchen. She hadn't eaten all day, and it was already 4 pm. She hadn't been hungry, but now she was starving. She opened the refrigerator and was instantly disappointed by what she saw. Half-eaten takeout food and condiments. Closing it, she opened the freezer and was greeted with equal disappointment. Not even a frozen dinner. She hadn't been grocery shopping in over two weeks.
Hoping for a stockpile of canned or dried goods, she headed for the cabinets. The selection there was sparse, made up mostly of foods that had found their way into the cabinet long ago but had never found their way out. Popcorn, soup mix, mac 'n cheese, canned pears, frosting. -- She often bought frosting with the intention of putting it on a cake. Not once had it ever made it that far nor had she ever actually made a cake to put it on.
She continued her search. A can of French fried onions caught her attention. She'd bought them intending to make one of those casserole dishes she liked, but she really had no idea how to cook one. She knew it involved green beans and the onions went on top, but beyond that, she was clueless. She'd always meant to look up a recipe for it, but here they were over a year later, still occupying space in her cabinet. Who was she kidding? She was never going to make a casserole. Sam Carter and cooking did not mesh. She grabbed the onions, contemplating whether they would be a good snack on their own. Looking at the label, she realized that there was a recipe right there on the back waiting for her. "Huh. Why didn't I see that before," she muttered as she put the can back, holding out hope that she might one day eat that casserole after all.
She opened the next cabinet, and before she could scour it, the phone rang. It took two rings before she reached the caller I.D. It read 'Jackson, Daniel'.
She didn't answer. After the fourth ring, her machine picked up, and she heard a familiar voice speaking in a calm, formal tone.
"Colonel-Doctor Samantha Carter. This is Doctor Daniel Jackson. I have a naquada reactor here that's going to blow up if I don't get help immediately. Please pick up the phone. This is a life and death situation."
Sam knew Daniel well enough to realize that there was no impending doom. Along with his tone of voice, the "Colonel-Doctor" had been the most obvious giveaway. Though he'd never used that particular title before, "Captain-Doctor" had been a common nickname he'd used when they first met. He'd even called her "Major-Doctor" once or twice, but only when he was merely pretending to address her formally.
Daniel continued, "Not buying it huh? Well, call me back by tomorrow, or I'm going to make a request to send the entire Air Force to your house to check on you." He paused for several seconds. "Seriously though, Sam, I wish you'd to talk to me. I want to know--"
She picked up the phone and interrupted him, "Hello, Daniel."
She heard the smile in his voice, "Hey!" She could picture his expression. It had to be his 'I'm too adorable for you to be upset with me' smile. "How's your day been?"
"Good. It's been good. "
"I'm glad." He paused. "I've been wanting to talk to you, and I was really hoping you'd let me buy you dinner as a peace offering."
"Why should you make the offering? I'm the one who screwed up."
"Hmm. . . good point. You should buy."
"Daniel, I think that's where you were supposed to tell me I didn't screw up," she joked.
"Sam, I shouldn't have to tell you this again, but you didn't screw up."
The corners of her mouth crept upward. "Thanks, Daniel."
"No problem." He was smiling again as he asked, "So. . . does that mean I still have to pay?"
"It does now," she joked with a giggle, temporarily forgetting the complication that had arisen in their friendship.
"Great! I'll pick you up at seven. Dress nice."
Before she could refuse, the line went dead. When did he learn to do that? Sam wondered as her stomach rumbled. She shrugged. She ought to at least find a snack to tide her over until dinner.