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Tidbits

by Fig Newton
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Teal'c and Daniel discuss the relative merits of cultural knowledge. No spoilers, but set at least in S3-4 to give Teal'c time to accumulate his knowledge of pop culture.

This was written for Aelfgyfu, who requested, "Teal'c actually explains something in American culture to Daniel (who is, let's face it, not always the most clued-in guy)."

Daniel, busy scribbling in his journal by firelight, was vaguely aware that Jack seemed to be in harangue mode. Since he was seated on the other side of the campfire and he wasn't shouting, Daniel chose to ignore him. On some subconscious level, his brain mapped the simple logic: Jack wasn't snatching away his journal and demanding that he pay attention; Sam was on watch, pacing the perimeter; ergo, it must be Teal'c who was getting the lecture. That also explained the lack of any audible response -- Teal'c was probably letting his eyebrow do all the talking.

The sound of Jack's voice faded after a while. He'd probably turned in; he was scheduled to take the second watch that night. Daniel turned a page, thought for a moment, and continued to catalog his observations on the interesting variations to Linear B that he'd filmed in the ruins two klicks away.

Teal'c must have moved with his usual cat-footed silence, for Daniel's first warning of his presence was when Teal'c settled down next to him. Daniel slanted a glance at his friend, noting the cross-legged posture, straight back, closed eyes, and raised chin. To anyone outside the team, Teal'c would've presented the perfect picture of kel no reem. Daniel, however, noted the slight twitch in the jaw that suggested that Teal'c was struggling with something.

"All right?" he asked mildly. He closed the journal to show he was ready to talk, but kept his pen in place as a bookmark to show that he could return to his writing if Teal'c preferred not to discuss whatever was bothering him.

After a moment, Teal'c opened his eyes and turned to look at him. "O'Neill has very strong views regarding the Springfield Isotopes," he observed.

"He does, huh?" Daniel waited, hoping for another clue. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he had no idea if the Springfield Isotopes were Jack's hockey team, baseball team, or basketball team. Or possibly chess club.

"I can understand the joy of seeing one warrior challenge another, even if it is more satisfying to partake in the challenge myself," Teal'c continued. "But the purpose for this particular obsession escapes me."

Daniel absently traced the spine of his journal. "Lots of people feel a special connection with their hometown or state, even after they've moved away," he offered. He knew that Teal'c had no such emotional tie to his birthplace; perhaps that was why he was so baffled by Jack's enthusiasm. "I know Jack is a Minnesota boy at heart, but after so many years in Chicago, it's understandable that he wants to cheer for the..."

His voice trailed off under the weight of Teal'c's unbelieving stare. "What?" he asked uncertainly.

"Daniel Jackson." Teal'c tilted his head to one side. "What are you talking about?"

"Ah, the Springfield Isotopes?" Daniel flipped a hand. "This team of Jack's from the capital of Illinois."

Teal'c's eyebrow arched high, and he regarded Daniel with something that looked almost like pity. "Springfield," he explained patiently, "is the fictitious city in which the Simpson family resides. The Isotopes are the local minor league baseball team."

"Oh," Daniel said blankly. "Well, then."

Teal'c laced his fingers together and contemplated Daniel, much the same way Daniel himself contemplated an alien artifact. "Daniel Jackson, this is not the first time we have learned that I possess a greater knowledge of Tau'ri popular culture than you."

"I took you to see The Fellowship of the Ring," Daniel said defensively.

One side of Teal'c's mouth tipped upward in a gently mocking smile. "I believe that is 'geek' pop culture. It does not count."

Daniel huffed a little. "Look, you know things get pretty busy for us. I have a life outside the SGC. I just don't choose to spend it watching The Simpsons!"

"And yet it is part of American culture, is it not?"

"Certainly," Daniel replied readily. "I'm not embarrassed to admit that I don't keep up with pop culture. I have my own interests."

"Yet could it not be said that much of the mythology and legends you so avidly pursue were based upon the popular culture of their time?" Teal'c turned his head to gaze into the dancing flames of their campfire. "In the end, Daniel Jackson, it seems to me that the ancient cultures you study were equally obsessed with sports and entertainment, just as the Tau'ri are today. I do not understand why you so value ancient mythology, yet reject The Simpsons and O'Neill's teams."

Daniel chuckled. "Or tabloids?" he suggested.

"Indeed." Teal'c's eyes warmed.

Daniel scrambled to his feet and stretched. "You have a point," he said. "Ancient entertainments weren't any better than today. At least blood sports have evolved to include protective padding, and we've done away with sacrifices -- the literal kind, anyway." He suppressed a yawn. "On the other hand, Teal'c, let's be honest. My knowledge of ancient cultures can help us off-world. I seriously doubt that pop culture will come in handy when we're dealing with the Goa'uld."

"Not necessarily," Teal'c disagreed. "On P3X-871, we might have put some of Doctor Alan Grant's knowledge to good use."

"Who?" Daniel's brows drew together. "That was the planet with the dinosaurs, right? Is Alan Grant someone at the SGC? I don't recognize the name..."

Teal'c allowed himself a small, rueful sigh. "Never mind, Daniel Jackson," he said. "You have the final watch tonight. I suggest you get some rest."

"Good idea, Teal'c." Daniel yawned again. "'Night."

Teal'c watched him go, then turned his attention back to the flames. He needed to kel no reem before relieving Major Carter.

Still, as his heartbeat slowed and his breathing grew shallow, Teal'c reflected that while Daniel Jackson remained woefully ignorant of some of the greater joys of modern Tau'ri life, at least he was spared the worst of O'Neill's diatribes. Perhaps there was merit in his position, after all.
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