Disclaimer: Just having fun with the characters for a little bit. Promise to give them back. Don't own them, never will. Sigh...

Author's notes: Hey to the following for reviewing the last chappie. feb04 (it makes me glad that you can imagine him saying so), Verb (shaking his booty? lol!), Desert Blossom-by-the-Sea (you could see it? whoo-hoo! I'm a-happy dancing, here!), BookWorm37 (honest to goodness, only thought of it when writing, lol!), kittn (breathe, doll, breathe!), t-sport (alright, now! lol!), stargategal (quiet in the library, please, lol!), Natters (as always, grateful for your giggles), Gwil (thanks for being my funometer, doll!), And, as always, to everyone at As The Stargate Turns. Possibly the most fun, babelicious (Phil and Matt aside, does hunkalicious sound ok to you two? lol!) and productive Stargate writer's group on on our small planet! Thanks to you, one and all.

The Colonel And Confusion

He opened the door, only to see a child sweep by on rollerskates. Maybe rollerblades, he just couldn't tell.

Certainly a child though.

A small, grey child.

Or not.

Because that didn't make sense. Did it?

General Hammond, he knew, would not allow the use of rollerblades on base, let alone the whole child issue.

He was only sure, of course, because he had asked for the very same on-base transport allowance himself, once upon a time.

He took the time to remember his C.O.'s ever so slightly sarcastic response. With hindsight, maybe his request had been a little unrealistic.

He screwed up his face.

He'd just been seeing things. Really, he had.

Despite a lifetime in the military, it was just waaay too early for him.

He had never been overly fond of mornings. Even as a basic concept, they sucked. Of course, this wasn't the morning. This was the afternoon. But he had just woken up from a nap, so it was like a morning. The theory held water, in his generally very much ignored opinion.

He shrugged and started to make his way to General Hammond's office.

Goddamn the extremely nice and important man, who'd woken him up just when he was getting involved in a seriously interesting and somewhat clothesless dream about...whoa, Jack!

Nope, he never thought about that, consciously, not if he could help it.

Much.

As he loped, somewhat dazedly, around the corner of the corridor, he found himself bumping directly into a large and immovable object. He lifted his eyes, which had been focussed at floor level, probably because he was sulking a tad about being ripped away from the pleasantly sleepy imaginings that he would deny unto death, only to find his gaze in close proximity to the gleaming white teeth of a certain Jaffa warrior.

That was odd.

Teal'c was smiling.

In fact, that was not true. He had seen Teal'c smile before.

No, he really had.

But this wasn't smiling in the normal sense of the word. This was a grotesque version of a grin. He was pretty sure that despite their current location under a mountain, there were currently people in New Mexico being permanently blinded by...whatever that was that T was doing with his face.

Possibly also in Argentina.

"Teal'c." It was almost a question. But apparently not quite enough.

The eyesight inhibiting one inclined his head and said, "O'Neill." Then he started with the whole bunch of disturbing rent-a-smile thing again.

God, but his teeth were white!

"Why are you...smiling, Teal'c?"

"I am not, O'Neill."

Well that just plain old wasn't true. The 'grin' remained. OK, it wasn't a smile as such, at least not a good one if you weren't going for the scary serial killer look, but it was a clear, if alarming, attempt at such.

He shook his head, somewhat dazedly, and started to move around Teal'c to continue on his way.

As he did, he felt the cogs in his mind finally kick into life. He could do that in a split-second offworld, straight from sleep, if the situation demanded it. But that was only because he never truly rested between gating out and getting back. Not really.

As his mind ground into gear, he suddenly realised something that should, in all honesty, have been obvious to him from the very moment he had opened the door to his quarters. The little skater had been really too gray to be considered healthy and his eyes had been very big, dark and familiar. Also, there was the naked issue.

Huh.

So no.

Not a child at all.

He turned back to his friend, whom appeared to be readying himself for a desperate chase after the currently extremely mobile possible alien infestation of the base.

"Oh, and one last thing, Teal'c."

Said Jaffa warrior raised an enormously self-satisfied eyebrow, which coupled with the grin borrowed from one of Satan's sofa buddies, was just too much.

Especiallyas he had just woken up, for cryin' out loud!

"Your impression of the police detective Columbo is indeed adequate, O'Neill. However, I think you will find that my own is far superior."

What?

"Ack!" He scowled and waved an ever so slightly irritated finger at the big man.

"I'll think about that later. Stop trying to dodge the bullet, Teal'c. That wasn't a kid, was it? And by the way, you can drop the seriously distressing smile thing now."

Teal'c looked almost relieved to let his featuresfall into their customary and kinda blank state. "No, indeed, O'Neill. That was Thor."

Oh, crap! There was just no way that this could ever be good.

"What was he doing, rollerblading around the base?"

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "He was not rollerblading, O'Neill. He was rollerskating."

Like that made any kind of difference! "Ooookay. And, if may I ask, why?"

"Thor did consider rollerblading, but thought that rollerskating would be a wiser first choice. I believe him to have been correct. His ankles are indeed quite fragile."

In frustration, he raised an eyebrow of his very own. "That's not exactly what I was asking, Teal'c."

There was no visible reaction from his friend. "I know, O'Neill. But any further information you require pertaining to this matter will be forthcoming from GeneralHammond when you arrive at his office."

Colonel Jack O'Neill employed his most grimacey grimace. "You aren't going to tell me, are you, Teal'c?"

He watched as his friend's face took on the subtle Jaffa cast of 'smug'.

"Indeed, I am not."

Oh, but darn him!

He turned away in disgust, marching himself away in his most repellant 'grumpy colonel' mode.

It kept him from being talked to by the geeksquad. Or anybody else, for that matter.

Which, given the lack of information he'd gotten from his friend-of-a-thousand-hats, was probably a good thing.

Oh, look! He'd just been woken up and had also been denied information by a supposedly reeeaaally loyal member of his own team,so he was, in fact, the repellantly grumpy colonel!

He glared at a passing SF, who flinched.

That made him feel a little better.

So much for Teal'c, though.

Gah!

So much for friends!