Bored, bored, bored.
Jack O'Neill doodled aimlessly on his pad as Daniel pontificated about the wonders of some pre-Hellenistic ruins on planet whatever. He didn't have the heart to tell Daniel to put a lid on it - it had only been a couple months since he'd lost Sha're, after all.
So Jack was bored. While nowhere near as dumb as he would have people believe, he just wasn't that interested in what a musty piece of pottery buried under twenty feet of dirt might say about a long-dead civilization.
Teal'c was listening carefully to the presentation. The large alien seemed to have appointed himself as Daniel's big brother cum bodyguard and yet was keen to learn from him too. "I am a good warrior, Daniel Jackson, but an ignorant man," he'd stated simply when asking Daniel somewhat diffidently for his help in learning more about the ways of the Tauri. Hard to fight that.
Next to Jack, Carter was also listening. Although her area of geekdom was very different to Daniel's, she shared his fascination with the universe. Jack both looked forward to and dreaded the day when cynicism would replace the wide-blue-eyed naivete he saw now in the fresh young Captain.
A small smile tipped the corner of her lips, and she wrote something on her pad and turned it to face him.
Bored much, sir?
He returned the small smile. That obvious?
Glad it's not just me. I was seriously contemplating doing a lap dance.
A what? And Jack's mind went off someplace else. Someplace warm and happy filled with sweet little tank tops.
A tap dance, sir. You know; Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly.
Ah. Jack wondered just when he'd become a dirty old man then debated the merits of teaching Carter decent penmanship.
Another smile tipped her lips, as if she knew precisely what he'd been thinking.
You dance, Carter?
Not a bit, sir. That's how bored ...
"Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of us, Colonel O'Neill?"
The Texan drawl broke Jack out of his high school antics and he looked into the blue eyes of his irked CO. "No, sir," he said politely. Hammond was old school in the best way - he'd seen it, done it, could open up a tee shirt shop - but he had a very low BS tolerance.
Hammond eyed Jack and Carter consideringly, and Carter's cheeks pinked.
Damn, busted, Jack scribbled.
And now a giggle emerged from the serious young Captain who Jack could've sworn had a big stick up her butt.
An honest to goodness giggle.
Who knew she could sound so cute?
Careful, sir, we'll be getting sent to detention.
I bet that's a first for you, Carter. He could just bet that she'd been one of those straight-A types who'd looked down their nose at his kind.
Oh, you'd be surprised, sir. I wasn't always a goody two-shoes.
Really? Jack's interest was piqued.
Are they passing notes to each other?
General George S. Hammond rubbed his brow and blinked, not sure he could believe his own eyes. The Black Ops Colonel and PhD-holding Captain were actually passing notes!
When had the briefing room suddenly become home room?
And when had these two stopped battling each other?
There's a thin line between love and hate, George.
He so was not going there. It was enough that they seemed to have found a rhythm that worked for them. Albeit a childish, warped one.
But enough with the notes.
He slapped his palms down on the table, causing the two children's heads to jerk up and matching 'busted' expressions to flash over their faces. And now George felt like laughing. He shouldn't, and he wouldn't, but they were actually quite endearing - in an oddball sort of way. "Go on, Doctor Jackson," he told the good Doctor.
Daniel blinked rapidly. "Thank you, General," he said and turned back to his presentation.
George sighed then groaned when he saw the Colonel mouth the word 'Geek' to the Captain.
Who giggled again.
It was going to be one of those days.