Barista Series - Chapters 41 -46
Barista Series - Chapters 41 -46
by dietcokechic
Summary: The continuing tales of Daniel's Barista (chapters 41 - 46). All five of these vignettes are related to one another and can just be read as one large stand-alone story.
Category: Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene/Epilogue, POV, Series
Episode Related: 501 Enemies, 502 Threshold, 503 Ascension, 506 Rite of Passage, 511 Desperate Measures, 512 Wormhole Xtreme, 513 Proving Ground
Season: Season 5
Pairing: Team
Rating: 13+
Warnings: minor language
Author's Notes: Okay, so after this posting, everyone will be current! (As of 8/19/05 that is).
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story was created for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
Archived on: 08/19/05
BARISTA STORIES - VIGNETTES 41-46
TITLE: The Barista - Vignettes 41-46
AUTHOR: dietcokechic
WEBSITE: http://www.dietcokechic.com/stargate
EMAIL: dietcokechic@hotmail.com
RATING: G - PG-13 (language warnings posted when necessary)
CATEGORY: Angst, hurt comfort, humor, drama, action, missing scene, (if I forgot anything, it wasn't on purpose!
SUMMARY: The Kira/Kyle/ -- the-thing-I-can't-mention-without-giving-too-much-away Barista arc bundled together in one fic! Oh don't worry - lots of Jack and Daniel, too!
SPOILERS: Everything up to and including Season 5 is fair game!
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
Title: Barista 41 -- Outside the Box
Spoilers: Vague references for 0501 - Enemies, 0502 - Threshold, 0401 - Small Victories; More concrete reference to 0503 - Ascension
Category General
Rating: PG (mild swearing)
I really am listening.
"...and then Dr. Feldman takes us through a doorway guarded by two military guys and shows us what appears to be a Lego piece..."
Well, sort of.
Kyle pauses, and looks at me with those beautiful eyes of his. "Kira, are you listening to me?"
I try not to look guilty. "Of course!" I reply. And if I had to reiterate back to him what he has been talking about for the last 20 minutes, I bet I would do a pretty good job. I really am listening to him. It's just that I'm not finding it particularly interesting.
Oh, don't get me wrong, I think it's great that Kyle has been hired full time to work for a well-respected aeronautical think tank. And it's fantastic that he's working on this great "secret" project that has him making mathematical models of weird things no one really understands. But that's just the problem really - I don't understand it either.
"Did it come with any of those cute little Lego men as well?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
"Kira!" Kyle replies with a slight frown as he shakes his head. Um. Guess the levity thing didn't work.
"Just kidding, Kyle," I reply giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I think it's great that your job is meaningful and challenging..." I pause as I realize something very, very important.
"I'm sorry I've been going on and on about it, Kree," Kyle adds apologetically, as he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close. One arm snakes up my back and begins toying with the hair at the nape of my neck. Some part of my brain registers that Kyle's roommates are out for the afternoon, but another part of my brain is screaming for attention in large, neon words. The words fade a bit, as I turn my attention back to Kyle, but they never quite disappear.
IS YOUR JOB MEANINGFUL AND CHALLENGING?
"So you're not buying mechanical difficulties?" Daniel asks somewhat seriously, as he pulls out his wallet to pay for his coffee.
"Daniel, you pulled another mysterious disappearing act again," I reply in exasperation. "You really expect me to believe you were held up due to mechanical difficulties?"
"It happens!" Daniel replies hotly. Is it just me or does he sound a wee bit defensive?
"For three weeks?!" I shake my head. "It's the 21st century, Daniel," I explain patiently. "I doubt there is anywhere on the planet that would 'trap' you for three weeks." Daniel gives a 'hmmmph' sound and reaches for his wallet. He eyes me critically as he hands me a twenty.
"Kira, are you all right?" Well, this is unexpected. And here I thought I was hiding it so well.
"Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?" I ask, as I hand over his change. As usual, Daniel places several bills into the tip jar. I swear, Daniel alone is paying for my textbooks.
"What do you mean?" Daniel asks looking a little wary.
"Oh, I don't know, Daniel..." I begin fumbling for words. "You just don't seem.." happy? content? I'm saved from having to come up with something by Daniel's cell phone. I chuckle to myself as I recognize a few bars of 'Walk Like An Egyptian' by the Bangles.
"Jack's discovered personalized ring tones," Daniel explains with a resigned sigh, as he steps away from the counter and answers the phone.
"Hi Jack." Well at least Daniel sounds normal on the phone to Jack. He always has this slightly cautious, 'what are you going to ask of me now' voice when he talks on the phone with Jack.
I'm not purposefully eavesdropping, but it's 2:00 on a Wednesday afternoon, and there aren't a lot of customers around. I grab a clean rag and wipe down the espresso machine.
"I spoke with her this morning," Daniel says. He switches the phone from one ear to the other as Jack replies. "She seemed fine, Jack. A little embarrassed, and more than a little bored, but fine." He pauses as Jack says something.
"Well gee, Jack, I don't know. Maybe because the rest of the base is thinking she's NUTS?" Daniel says in exasperation.
Nuts?
"Oh come on Jack, we've all been down that road before. If Sam says...," his voice drops off as he glances furtively in my direction. "If Sam says she has company then she probably does." Jack talks for several seconds.
"I know you are, Jack," Daniel says quietly. "We'll get this figured out." He pauses, as he looks my way with a smile. "Now if you excuse me, my coffee awaits!"
"Yes Jack, I am indeed at Kira's." I love it when they refer to the coffee shop by my name!
"Yes Jack, I will tell Kira hello from you," Daniel repeats, looking my way. I mouth 'hello back'.
"Kira says hi as well... I'll talk to you tomorrow, all right?" Long pause as Jack explains something that has Daniel rolling his eyes.
"He has seen that before you know," Daniel starts. Jack obviously interrupts him.
"I don't know, Jack - maybe six times? Can't we see something else?" He holds up a hand to stop Jack from talking. Naturally, as Jack is not in the local vicinity - it doesn't work.
"If Sam agrees, I'll be there," Daniel concedes. "Just give me a call tonight with the when and where. Bye Jack."
"Jack says hi" Daniel says, as he picks up his coffee.
"So I heard. How's he doing?"
"Jack?" Daniel says absently. "Oh Jack's fine. Jack's pretty much always fine." I'm definitely hearing something weird in his voice at the mention of Jack's name, but I'll leave it alone.
"And Sam?"
"Weird, classified story, Kira," Daniel replies candidly, as he takes a drink of his coffee. God, I love the fact that for some things he doesn't even try to make things up!
"Jack's arranging for a 'team night' this evening to cheer Sam up. Pizza and movies."
"That should be fun."
"Mmmm hmmm," Daniel replies noncommittaly. He takes a moment and looks around the near empty store. "Is there anyone who can watch the counter for a few minutes?" I give him an odd look.
"Sure. Hold on a sec." I head to the back and grab Louise away from her bean counting (okay, weekly inventory sheets). It's pretty much time for my break anyhow. I make myself an Italian soda and lead Daniel to the back of the shop.
"What's up?" I ask as we sit down.
"Actually Kira, I was going to ask you that." Huh?
"Huh?"
"I wasn't kidding when I asked you if you're all right," Daniel begins. "There is definitely something bothering you." Observant much?
"Just a little pre-graduation blues Daniel," I say casually. "It isn't a big deal."
"You don't graduate until next spring, right?" Daniel asks. I nod. Suddenly, I really don't feel like talking about this.
"And your classes are going all right?" He knows they are as he edits at least one of my papers per term. I always share the grade received with him. The professors think I'm a rock star (I'm pretty certain this is due to Daniel).
"Classes are going great, Daniel." I hear the desire to stop talking about this in my own voice; I know Daniel can hear it as well.
"So what's the problem, Kira?" Daniel asks softly looking at me with eyes nearly as gorgeous as Kyle's. I nearly lose it right there - He really does want to help.
"It's silly really," I begin in babble mode as I take off my glasses and rub my eyes. "I was hanging out with Kyle the other night and he said something. And then I couldn't stop thinking about it... And then I began to look at what I've done for the last five years..."
"Kira, breathe," Daniel orders. "Take a deep breath and just tell me what's wrong." I take his advice. I breathe in and out a few times, take another sip of my drink and then lay it all out on the table.
"Daniel, I'm 23 years old and am going to be graduating in less than a year with a Masters in Ancient History and Languages. And I haven't a damn clue what I'm going to do with it!" I say angrily. "My resume looks like crap because I've been merrily working in a coffee shop for the last 4 ½ years and I haven't any idea of where I want to go, or what I want to do with all of this!" I visibly slump in my chair now that I've bared my soul and voiced my fears aloud.
"Daniel, I want.. I need to work in a job that is meaningful and challenging," I say calming down a bit. "And I realize now that I'm not going to find it here working at Victors.." Apparently, I had been talking to my drink for the last 30 seconds or so, for now I look up. And there's Daniel giving me one of his patented smiles.
"Was it ever your plan to work at Victors for the rest of your life?"
"Of course not!" I reply. I mean Victor is great and all, but usually after you get the advanced degree, you tend to head away from retail.
Usually.
"Kira, there is nothing wrong with having held a steady job while attending school for the past four years." Well, when he says it like that...
"But, I'm a barista Daniel!" I reply. "Outside of the ability to make a mean cup of coffee from a handful of beans and a French press..."
"A very useful skill for a budding linguist and historian," Daniel adds.
"Right!" I say sarcastically.
"Kira, I'm serious!" Daniel insists. "You're a scholar. And scholars tend to keep strange hours. I'm not kidding when I say I think your experience here at Victors won't be the albatross you're envisioning.
"Maybe," I concede. "But it still doesn't help me figure out what I'm going to do when I graduate."
"What do you want to do?" I resist rolling my eyes. If I knew that Daniel, I wouldn't be in this state!
"All I know is that I adore languages and culture. I like the dead ones more than the live ones, as there's more mystery to be found there."
"Sounds like you should be taking some archaeology classes!" Daniel says smiling.
"No - no, you just don't get it, Daniel." I reply in exasperation. "Archaeologists spend hours and hours sifting through dirt, sand and worthless artifacts until they find the items that they need for their research. They pull together puzzle pieces from a gazillion different mediums." I shake my head - I know I'm not making any sense.
"What I like- what I love, is to be given fragments, specifically linguistic fragments, and combine those fragments with known oral and written histories. Through those, I can come up with complete story." Daniel gives me one of those looks again - a cross between, 'you're crazy' and 'you're a genius'.
"That's really want you want?" Daniel asks.
"Yes," I reply emphatically. "That's exactly what I want!" I sigh dramatically and take another sip of my drink. "And you tell me where I can find something like that."
"You might be surprised, Kira." He better not be making fun of me!
"And what does that mean?"
"It means," Daniel insists, "that you need to look outside the box."
"'Outside the box'?" I repeat.
"Yes!" Daniel says nodding. "Start doing what normal academics would do, and apply for internships at organizations or companies you admire. But at the same time, I recommend applying to one or two organizations that you might not think have anything to offer you."
"I'm not going to apply to the Air Force, Daniel," I know Jack is still holding out hope for me, but there is no way I'm going to go into the military.
"I'm not saying you have to, Kira," Daniel insists. "But there might be some other organizations out there just as crazy-sounding as the military. And you just might surprise yourself by seeing what they have to offer."
"You really think so?"
"Absoultely!" Daniel replies. "My name probably won't benefit you all that much, but I'd be happy to write you a letter of recommendation if you like."
"That would be great, Daniel! Thank you." Daniel glances at his watch and shrugs apologetically.
"I have to go, Kira."
"I should be getting back to work, anyhow," I reply. We stand up, and impulsively I throw my arms around Daniel and give him a big hug.
"Thank you."
"You're very welcome," Daniel says giving me a hug in return. "I'll talk to you soon, all right?"
"That is if you aren't trapped in foreign lands with mechanical difficulties," I reply cheekily.
"I think you've been hanging around Jack too long..." Daniel mutters, as he exits the store. It is only several minutes later that I realize I hadn't had a chance to ask Daniel what was bothering him.
It's now 1:00 in the morning and I've just finished submitting my resume to three universities, two foundations (one in London!) and an historical research center in Washington D.C. Yes, my CV is rather weak, but I'm hoping my course work and cover letters will at least get me an interview. Best case scenario? An internship that leads into a job. Daniel did mention getting my feet wet...
Now, all that's left is to hit the 'send' button on this one last application. I stare at the screen for several long minutes debating the pros and cons of hitting that innocuous little button. I mean, if Daniel managed to find a job working with the military whose is to say I won't find something similar? What was it Daniel said? 'Think outside the box'.
I don't even smoke, and yet here I am contemplating a cigarette...How can I honestly be considering this?! The screen prompt blinks phlegmatically back at me, offering no answers. I tell myself I'm being silly. I mean that odds of this even making it to someone's desk are...I read the screen again. 'We receive over 3,000 resumes every month...' Okay. The odds are vastly against my getting a phone call, let alone an interview. So what is the harm in applying?
What's the reason for applying? I ask myself.
Because there ain't nothing more outside the box than this! And with that, I hit 'send'.
Within moments the acknowledgement screen appears:
Thank you.
You have successfully posted your resume to the Central intelligence Agency resume database. We will review it against our current hiring requirements. If we find a match between your expertise and our employment needs, one of our recruiters will contact you.
Giggling a little to myself, I save the page and power down my computer. Wait until my friends here about this!
On second thought - maybe this is something I'll keep to myself for the time being.
Title: Barista 42 -- Another Day in the Life
Spoilers: 0504 -The Fifth Man 0506 -Rite of Passage
Category General/Humor
Rating: PG-13 (Language)
It's been three weeks since I sent out those applications. So far, I have heard a 'thanks, but we're not hiring' reply; 'send us an updated resume after you've graduated' reply; and a promising request for a translation sample from the London foundation. I never really thought I'd hear back from the CIA (3,000 resumes a month!), and I think I'm kinda happy about that.
"Kira, phone!" I cringe as I hear Stefan shouting my name. I have no idea why Victor even bothered to buy these phones with transfer buttons -all anyone does around here is scream at one another.
Due entirely to the noisy espresso machine of course.
"Got it!" I shout in return not feeling even remotely hypocritical; the machine is running after all.
"Hello?"
"Kira?" I smile to myself. Why if it isn't my favorite archaeologist!
"Hi, Daniel," I reply in a far better mood than I was in just moments ago. "We still on for this afternoon?" Daniel has been such an amazing help with this course I'm taking in linguistic classification systems. He keeps bringing up these crazy 'what if' scenarios that leaves me chomping at the bit to try to solve. This is by far my favorite class to date, and I'm seriously contemplating doing my thesis on alternative paradigms in the cataloging of ancient languages.
I am so the nerd.
"Yeah, about that..." Daniel's voice trails off. "I'm going to have to cancel on you, I'm afraid."
I try to hide my disappointment. "Should I even try and ask why?" After hearing years of both believable and unbelievable excuses (my favorite is still 'kidnapped by aliens'), I always give Daniel an easy out.
"Probably not," Daniel says with an audible sigh. "Hold on a second, Kira." I can only imagine that Daniel is now covering the phone, for all I can hear are muffled voices. Ah, but unbeknownst to Daniel, I have great hearing. Plus, the whole linguist thing means I'm pretty good at discerning conversations.
Even conversations I'm probably not supposed to hear.
"I'm going to ask her."
"Daniel, you can't!"
"I'm not going to say anything Sam -just ask."
"This is really not a good idea."
"And hacking into base security was?"
I'm doing my best not to laugh as Daniel comes back on the phone. "Kira, have you ever heard either Jack or I mention a Lt. Tyler in the last couple of weeks?" I think about it for a moment.
"No," I say finally. "Who's Tyler?"
"Er, no one," Daniel says too quickly, as he deftly changes the subject. "I'm not sure how long I'm going to be stuck on base, but I'll try and stop by in the next couple of days, okay?"
"Sure," I reply. "Take care of yourself, Daniel. And tell Sam hi from me." Daniel says goodbye and hangs up. I spend a couple of seconds staring at the phone.
I really do have weird friends.
I'm behind the counter when Jerk Number 351 comes through the front door (yes, we do keep track). Instantly I know he's a Jerk because of the way he's talking on his cell phone. Yeah, I know -cell phones may be the wave of the future, but they sure can be annoying.
"I don't care if you are caught, piggy back on the hack and give me a name!" Had this guy been in an office, he so would have slammed down his phone.
"Idiots!" he mumbles to himself, as he gets in the short line to order. I take the order of the woman in front of me, as I ponder the well-dressed Jerk behind her. I know I'm staring at him, but I can't help it -the guy looks really familiar. I have just finished counting back the nice lady's change, when it hits me.
"Q!" I say aloud.
"Excuse me?" Jerk sneers with a huff, as he steps up to the counter.
"Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like the character 'Q' from Star Trek?" Jerk frowns and does not look amused. I wonder if it is because he hears it all the time, or heck, maybe he is the actor who played Q!
"No," he says finally, glaring at me with poorly hidden scorn. Guess he's not an actor. I also don't think Jerk 351 likes me.
"My mistake," I say sweetly in return. It always throws these rude guys for a loop when I'm uber nice girl. It doesn't hurt me for karma either. "What can I get you?"
"Double tall Americano." He says it in a tone that implies I'm a lowly servant girl and he's the Lord of the Manor. Two or three years ago, that probably would have offended me, but now? Hell, I might even be more educated than him!
Even if I don't exactly know what I want to do with all this education.
I really wish he hadn't ordered Daniel's favorite drink though, it almost seems blasphemous, ya know? I (grudgingly) ring up the order and am not surprised when he gives me the exact change, and then only drops a few (lightweight) coins into the tip jar. He is just picking up his drink at the end of the bar when his cell phone rings.
"Simmons." Ah, so Monsieur Jerk has a name. He listens for a few moments and then smiles. It isn't a very nice smile.
"I knew it had to be one of the Wonder Twins who did it," he says with contempt. "Too damn smart for their own good..." He listens for a few moments. "How much did she see?" Apparently, whatever it was, it doesn't seem to concern Jerk Man. Er, I mean 'Simmons'. "A four digit number isn't going to tell them a damn thing," he replies cryptically. I really need to stop eavesdropping -it's always so unsatisfying to hear just one side of the conversation!
"And there is still no medical reason for their group delusion?" Obviously, he doesn't give a lot of credence to this particular delusion. Wonder what it is? He pauses while the person on the other end replies. "Good!" he replies, flashing that superior-looking smile (so similar to 'Q' I'll have you know...) "Keep me informed of anything new -I'll be on the base in 15." With that, he hangs up the phone, stuffs it into his suit pocket and picks up his coffee.
Base huh? I sure hope he's not heading to Cheyenne Mountain - I don't see him and Jack getting along too well. I hope he's like some kind of visiting Washington oversight guy or something (the suit is a dead giveaway), and will leave in the morning. He totally gives me the creeps.
Even if he does look like Q.
Stefan is behind the counter, and I'm on the machines when a cute teenage couple comes in a few days later. Rather than go straight up to the counter, they stand in the back of the store and contemplate the overhanging menu. I always laugh when I see folks do this -it's a coffee shop for crying out loud, I mean, it isn't like there are things on it you've never seen before.
"Damn, too young." Stefan murmurs under his breath as I take the order from a 30-something guy in line. It takes all my self-control not to cringe at his comment. You know for a minority himself, Stefan is completely un P.C.
"Plus, the kid is straight," I add, when I turn my back to get the 30-something's coffee bean order. Both of us know that we're talking about the cute 16-year-old boy and not the equally cute young woman hanging on his arm. I glance at the lovebirds behind my shoulder, and then turn back around and do a complete double take. Hey! She isn't just doing the teenage "hanging on your boyfriend's arm" thing; she's really hanging on his arm. I'm contemplating asking her if she needs help, when her boyfriend beats me to it.
"Cass, are you all right?" cute kid worriedly asks, giving his girlfriend additional support around her waist. Points for the boyfriend!
"I'm fine," she replies, sounding every inch a petulant teenager. Ah man! When did I get so old? "Just need some caffeine."
"You sure?" he asks not sounding convinced as he tightens his grip on her waist. "You feel a bit warm..."
"Don't you start with me, Dominic!" she says angrily, pulling away from his embrace. "It was all I could do to convince my mom to let me go to school today."
"You have been sick this past week."
"It was just a cold -no big deal." Boyfriend Dominic doesn't look like he believes her. "Besides," she croons (totally laying it on thick), "if I hadn't convinced her I was better, she wouldn't have agreed to let me go out tonight."
"She wouldn't have made you stay in on your birthday!"
"You don't know my mom," she mutters shaking her head. "Consider yourself lucky she didn't lock me an ICU or something."
"Oh, come on Cass -she can't be that bad." Wow. A boyfriend actually sticking up for mom -wonders never cease.
"Ha!" Cass replies, shaking her head. "Remember when I got the chicken pox last year? My mom totally took me back..." her voice trails off, and she shakes her head as if trying to dispel the memory. "It doesn't matter," she says finally. "Let's just say that I wasn't exactly sitting at home watching soap operas during the week I missed school."
"Bummer." Now he's sounding like the 16-year-olds I remember! They have just stepped up to the counter when I realize...
"Cassie!"
"Oh my gosh, Kira!" Cassie replies, all smiles. Wow! I seriously don't know if I would have recognized her had we just passed casually on the street. Cassie was a little girl when I saw her in the park a couple of years ago. And now? Well, let's just say I'm not surprised she has a boyfriend.
"How are you?" we ask at the same time.
"You first," I urge. No one is behind them, so there's no rush.
"Oh you know -school..."
"And boyfriends," I tease. Cassie blushes.
"Dominic, this is Kira," she says, introducing us.
"Hey," Dominic greets me, in that ever so effusive way teenage boys tend to have. Damn, there I go again! I am old!
"How are you?" Cassie asks. "Every now and then I hear about what you're studying from either Jack or Daniel."
"Really?" I can't help it -knowing that Jack and/or Daniel mention me to others makes me feel all warm and glowy inside.
"Oh yeah -the stories we heard from Daniel when you were in Egypt last year! I thought Jack was going to shove Daniel back thru the...well, back to the desert!" I grin.
"What would you like to drink?" I ask them.
"I'll have a tall iced mocha," Cassie says and Dominic..."
"I'll have an almond latte," Dominic finishes.
"Hot?" Cassie scoffs, "it's at least 80 degrees out!"
"I like my coffee drinks hot," Dominic explains. Fair enough. Cassie and I continue to chat about our favorite military guys (I'm smart enough to realize that I won't be making her happy if I ask how her mom is doing) as Stefan makes the drinks. I try to prevent them from paying, but Cassie won't hear anything of it. She is certain Jack would find out that I hadn't allowed them to pay for their drinks, and give her hell. Yeah, right.
Cassie is handing me over a ten-dollar bill and two quarters (total charge: $5.50) when all of a sudden I yelp and drop the coins on the counter; I've just been shocked!
My fingers might be smarting, but poor Cassie looks like she might faint. "Cassie, should I call your mom?" I ask, resisting the urge to shake my hands to stop their tingling.
"I'm fine," she whispers, looking at my fingertips. "Sorry, Kira."
"That'll teach me not to handle coins without being grounded," I joke. Cassie doesn't seem to find it particularly funny. They pick up their drinks from Stefan, and after assuring me that she'd tell her mom, and all those I know hello from me, left.
Right as she exited the door, our lights flickered. I look at my reddened fingertips and make a mental note to talk to Victor about having the store checked out by an electrician.
It's late when I get home. I eat leftover Chinese food directly out of the carton and power up my laptop for another rousing evening of linguistic literacy. I'm nearly ready to call it a night when I notice three new messages in my "junk" folder. I never get anything except spam in this folder, but haven't quite opted to have it all automatically deleted -- you never know when that cute TA from Antiquities is going to drop me a line...
I delete an advertisement for hair growth and another for GIRLS XOXOX. The third one just says, "Regarding Linguistic Position". I'm positive it's going to be a "position" that isn't exactly wholesome, when I read whom it's from.
No WAY. I blink and rub my eyes in disbelief. This so has to be a joke.
I read it again.
No joke.
"Dear Applicant,
My name is Judy, and I assist with the recruitment for the CIA's analytic component, the Directorate of Intelligence.
We want to thank you for submitting your resume to the CIA, and to ask you to complete the following documents as a next step in working with the Central Intelligence Agency."
The email goes on for another few paragraphs discussing how I made it through the first part of the application process and describes in detail what more they need from me. I read thru the entire email message twice and check out the three attachments. Apparently they want me to fill out an initial security form; school transcripts; and an original analytical or linguistic writing sample. Whoa. I sit in the dark and stare at my computer for several minutes in complete awe. It's one o'clock in the morning and I've just passed the first hurdle towards working for the CIA. I think words like "surreal" were invented for just such an occasion. I want to call a friend (or two), but still am not certain if that email will be there in the morning. What kind of name is "Judy" for a CIA recruiter anyhow?
I power down my computer and head to bed. I'm certain I'm going to dream about Mulder and Scully tonight. Oh, I know they're FBI and this is the CIA -but both are just so completely outside my league...
What the heck as I going to do next?
Title: The Barista 43 - Harbingers
Category: General, Angst & Humor
Episode Related: 511 - Desperate Measures
Rating: PG-13 (Stefan. Need I say more?)
Author's Notes: This one is short, but I'll be posting the sequel in the next couple of days. I swear, i'll try!
"They emailed me again," I say conversationally as Stefan and I go through the closing checklist.
"The Feds?" he asks, putting on his new "Best of Queen" CD. I look at the cover; maybe this one is "The Very Best of Queen" - I get them confused.
"I think that's only for the FBI," I say as I empty the coffee pots. It still feels a little strange to be talking to him about this. After the second email, I told myself I couldn't keep it all in (ah man, that's a Queen line, isn't it?) and told Stefan, Jeanne and Louise all about my impulsive application and the shocking series of events that followed.
It hasn't escaped my notice that I haven't told Kyle yet. I quickly shove that thought to the back on my mind, as I'm just not prepared to dwell on the Kyle Question right now.
"You'll never get it, Kira," Stefan says with authority. I raise an eyebrow.
"So you're an expert at governmental agencies as well as business management?" Stefan doesn't like anyone to know, but he has been slyly working on his MBA in the evenings for the past two years. Victor is so impressed, that he's bumped him up to full Manager, and I wouldn't be surprised if the have some secret coffee shop deal brewing behind the scenes. Stefan just shakes his head (he really doesn't like to talk about his pending degree).
"You're too damn smart, Kree," Stefan explains sagely. "You're going to see through all that slick party line bullshit and come to your senses.
Stefan isn't too keen on my joining the Central Intelligence Agency. Heck, I'm not so sure I'm keen on the notion either.
"There are plenty of smart people who work for the CIA," I argue. "And they aren't political!" Stefan just scoffs; I don't think he agrees with me. I'm about to tell him what they wanted from me this time (original research paper to go with my grades and signed affidavit that I haven't taken drugs in the last seven years), when I hear someone wrapping on the outside window. I turn around expecting some 9-to-5'er trying to get one last cup of coffee before heading home, when I catch sight of one casually dressed, but rather intense-looking Colonel Jack O'Neill.
I'm worried before I even get to the front door.
"I know you're closed, Kira," Jack says without preamble as I unlock the front door. He nods to Stefan and gently pulls me off to one side.
"Have you seen Sam?" He asks quietly, looking down at me with unreadable brown eyes.
Wow. He has some seriously nice-looking eyes.
"Sam Carter?" I ask just to make sure we're talking about the same person. To the best of my knowledge, Jack only knows one Sam, but I've never heard Jack call her anything but 'Carter', and needed to make sure. Daniel assures me that his calling Sam by her last name is a weird (but necessary) military thing.
"Yes. Sam Carter," he replies, sounding a little exasperated. "Have you seen her?"
"Recently?" Jack nods, and looks at me with an unreadable expression - yet another phrase I never thought was possible before now. "She and Daniel came by last week," I begin, before casting my eyes regretfully downwards. "But I haven't seen her since." Jack's face visibly falls with the news. "What happened to Sam, Jack?"
"She's missing," Jack replies in a clipped voice. "She was last seen at her gym two days ago, and no one has heard from her since."
"Any leads?" I chide myself as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Leads? Who uses words like that outside of police drama shows?
"Nothing," Jack replies soberly. "Daniel is checking the west end of town, and I'm doing the east."
"If I see or hear of anything Jack, I'll give you a call." After all, his phone number in my locker doesn't have to be exclusively for Daniel.
"That would be great, Kira," Jack replies already mentally checking off the coffee shop and thinking about the next place he should look (at least that's how it seemed to me).
"Good luck, Jack," I say sincerely. "I hope Sam shows up safe and well soon."
"Me too, Kira," Jack replies as he opens the door and softly shuts it behind him. He hasn't gone more then two paces before his cell phone is out and to his ear - I never even saw him dial. I wonder if he's calling Daniel. I stare at Jack through the window for several seconds as my mind whirls with dozens of horrible scenarios as to what might have happened to Sam. I silently send off good wishes for her safe return. I feel rather than hear Stefan behind me and turn back around, determined to get the final word in this time.
"Plenty of smart people work for the CIA."
I'm not surprised when I don't hear anything about Sam's fate for several days. Just when I'm starting to get a little worried (okay, a lot), Daniel shoots me an email and lets me know that Sam has been found. No details of course, but I learn that she is back at Cheyenne Mountain, safe and sound. Well, I don't know about sound - Daniel's email was rather terse, but she is back where she needs to be.
I am a little surprised a few days later when Jack and Daniel show up with Jack's arm in a sling. Without even realizing it (and completely against my will I might add), I find myself smiling.
"Hey, what's so funny?" Jack asks, as Daniel opens the door for him. Jack grudgingly grunts a thank you as they walk over to where I'm working the counter.
"I'm curious as to what excuse you'll use," I say in complete honesty. I know I'm not going to get the truth, and it's starting to get interesting to hear the stories they come up with.
"I was shot," Jack says succinctly. I look him in the eye and blanch. Holy crap, he's telling the truth!
"Oh my God, Jack - I'm so sorry!" I stutter. "I had no idea..." Jack holds up a hand to stop my mea culpa-ing.
"It happens," he says shrugging nonchalantly. Or at least trying to shrug nonchalantly.
"Actually, it happens a lot," Daniel adds helpfully. Jack gives him a dirty look.
"Not that often Daniel."
"I'm pretty sure you've been shot more times than I have, Jack."
"Maybe with a gun..." Jack begins.
"As opposed to what, Jack?" Daniel taunts. I can do nothing but watch them like a ping-pong match and wonder if they're ever serious. Jack glares at his friend and says nothing.
"So, Sam is all right?" I ask, breaking the silence.
"Sam's going to be just fine," Daniel says. Jack still has a vaguely haunted look in his eye, but he nods in agreement.
"Carter can pull through anything," Jack adds quietly. Well, there isn't much to argue on that, now is there?
I make their coffees; Daniel going for one of Stefan's disgustingly sweet macadamia nut mochas and Jack a tall drip.
"Could you leave a little room in it, Kira?" Jack asks, as he awkwardly reaches into his baggy khakis for his wallet.
"Want me to put some steamed milk in there, Jack?"
"Um," Jack replies, without looking up from his one-handed fishing trip for his wallet. "It isn't for milk." He glances up at Daniel as if daring him to contradict him. Daniel just rolls his eyes and reaches into his back pocket.
"Hey, it's your body, Jack," Daniel replies as he pulls out his own wallet. "You know as well as I do that Janet will be able to tell in less than a second if you've been drinking alcohol - it's completely none of my concern."
"Like the attitude, Daniel," Jack mutters, as he fumbles the wallet and it drops back down his pants.
"I got it, Jack," Daniel begins, as he opens his billfold and takes out a ten.
"There's no way you're reaching into my pants, Daniel," Jack remarks, as he concentrates on retrieving his wallet. I nearly die right there. Jack has no idea that Daniel was offering to pay not fetch! Daniel is turning a little red, and soundlessly replaces the bills in his wallet and walks over towards the concession stand; Jack appears to be completely oblivious as to what just happened. "Got it!" he declares holding up his wallet in victory.
He pays for the drinks as the door opens and Stefan walks through the door. Poor man. He missed the lines of a lifetime by just moments! I wonder if I'll tell him...
"Dr. J, Colonel," Stefan says in greeting, as he gives them a little five-fingered wave and heads towards the back room. "Kree, come see me as soon as they're gone," he whispers as he passes me.
I say goodbye to my favorite guys, and after making sure Karen (she's new) is okay by herself, head into the backroom.
"What's up?" I ask Stefan as he slips the apron over his head.
"What are you doing tomorrow night?" Stefan asks all too cheerful. It takes me a moment to work out that tomorrow is Friday. Kyle is out of town at some conference or something...
"Not much," I confess. I really should do something about that.
"Good!" Stefan slaps his hands together in glee. "You're coming over to my apartment."
"I am?"
"You are."
"Any particular reason?" I ask. Evenings with Stefan tend to be...interesting.
"You, Ms. Meyers, are going to be one of six Colorado preview screeners for a pilot television show!"
"I am?" I ask dubiously. What kind of show? For what kind of network? If this is one of those touchy feely ones...
"Oh yeah!" Stefan replies merrily, as he ties the apron snuggly across his hips.
"You'll love it!" he promises. "It's a science fiction show, and I know you have a thing for aliens." Hey! I don't have a thing for aliens! I mean, just because I think they exist. Somewhere...
"So help me Stefan, if this is another show about some testosterone-charged space captain and his love affairs on other planets..."
"You'll love it!" Stefan promises again, as he heads out to the floor. "Festivities begin at 7 PM sharp tomorrow - bring wine!"
Sighing, I wonder how I manage to get myself roped into such things. Maybe I should bring two bottles of wine.
The first one I'll share, but the second one will be all for me.
Title: Barista 44 -- The Viewing
Season: Season 5
Spoilers: 0512- Wormhole X-Treme!
Category Humor
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: This one is pure (albeit cheesy), unadulterated fun. Enjoy! Oh, and just in case it isn't blatantly clear, I know nothing about the television industry and am totally making all of this up.
"So who'd you sleep with to get this one?" Allison asks, as she settles herself into the overstuffed chair in the corner of the room. Alli used to work at Victor's before she went all high and mighty on us and started her own flower business. I can't wait until I can afford buy her stuff!
"I resent that!" We hear Stefan shout with exaggerated indignation, as he walks into the room balancing a large bowl of chips in one hand and homemade guacamole and salsa in the other. My mouth salivates at the thought of Stefan's guacamole - the man can cook! Or at least jazz up a few avocados.
Stefan really doesn't have a leg to stand on with regards to all of us wondering where the heck he got this television show from. His penchant for dating rather...interesting men has long been a source of much merriment for all.
"So what's the story?" Chris asks, taking a large handful of chips and unceremoniously dumping them in his lap for easy-access munching. Wordlessly, Stefan hands him a plate. Stefan met Chris at school. Shockingly, they both took an instant like to one another in spite of having virtually nothing in common. Chris is Hispanic, built like a linebacker and straight as an arrow. Apparently, the two are inseparable on campus and always do their group projects together. The best part is that because Chris is straight, Stefan's current boyfriend, Elliot, isn't jealous.
"We get to beta-view a pilot television show," Stefan explains, taking a seat between Elliot and me on the couch. Damn. Here I am once again, sandwiched between two gorgeous gay men.
I know! Poor me.
Absently, I think of Kyle and wonder what he would think of all of this. He definitely likes Stefan, but I'm not sure if he would have wanted to come to this. Would I have come if he hadn't? And why am I even thinking of things like this? Probably because I have a sinking suspicion that, he wouldn't have liked it.
But then again, I don't know if I'm going to like it either.
"Beta-view?" Allison asks, wrinkling her perfectly plucked eyebrows. Mine stay like that for maybe three days... I blame it on my rather hirsute Russian ancestry.
"Beta-view," Stefan replies nodding. "We," he begins throwing his arms around Elliot and me, "are a typical American family, testing a television show to see if it's marketable."
All of us burst into laughter. Chris laughs so hard, he nearly chokes. Allison hands him a glass of wine, but he waves it away and heads into the kitchen for a beer. Naturally, he brought his own beer.
"Oh come on,"Stefan grouses, as he looks at our amused faces. "It was the only way I could get the tapes. We're about to see something no one has seen before, isn't that exciting?"
"It could be complete crap," Chris offers coming back into the living room.
"Or it might be another X-Files," I offer. Everyone looks hopeful - we're all big fans of the X-Files, in spite of David Duchovny's dissatisfaction with the show, and what we're certain is his last season. Nostalgically, I think back to when the show really rocked.
"So what are we waiting for," Allison asks as she gets up and grabs the tape from the coffee table. "Let's get this show on the road."
Before the show even begins, we watch several ten, twenty and thirty-second "spots" for the show. 'Wormhole X-Treme!'? Gee, wonder who they're trying to be? I laugh at the opening credits.
"Prepare for an X-treme adventure! Four X-cellent heroes in an X-traordinary new sci-fi series! Starring Nick Marlowe as the wry Colonel Danning." We all laugh as Colonel Danning head buts what I'm sure must be an alien and states, "As a matter of fact, it does say Colonel on my uniform." He then grabs some green alien babe and kisses her senseless. I groan, grab the remote control and hit pause.
"Wasn't Nick Marlowe that guy from that soap?" I ask the room. Oh, aren't I the articulate one?
"Oh yeah," Alli says, nodding her head enthusiastically. "He was a frequent guest-star on 'Night Passions' for nearly two years," she sighs happily. "He so fathered Brooke's baby."
"That was Justin," Elliot interjects rather primly. Ah Elliot - you are such the fag. Oh, I know Stefan is totally gay as well, but usually he just plays the gay card when he's trying to impress or horrify. But Elliot? He's a regular fruit cocktail.
"No way!" Allison disagrees. "Everyone knows he was still trapped in Alaska when she conceived. The baby had to have been Greg's."
"Frozen sperm," Elliot says nodding. "Brooke was artificially inseminated with Greg's sperm."
"I don't believe you."
"I have the whole season on tape and can prove it." Prove it? Who the heck proves soap opera stuff?
"But what.."
"Ladies," Chris interjects, addressing both Allison and Elliot. "Can we please get back to the show?" He shoots me a dirty look and silently warns me not to stop the tape again. I can see how badly he wants to take the remote out of my hands. Before beginning again, I ask one last question.
"Did anyone actually see the word 'Colonel' anywhere on that guy's uniform?" Everyone shakes their heads - you'd think the writers would have caught that one. Or maybe it's the producer's job...
"Kira, quit being so critical!" Stefan chastises. "It's just a TV show." I sigh and hit play again before passing off the remote to Stefan and pouring myself another glass of wine. It's going to be a long night.
I watch as the dashing Colonel Danning (dashing, but short) interacts with some brainy military chick who seems fairly cool. For the life of me, I can't understand what the heck she's talking about, but I bet that's the idea. If what she's saying actually turns out to be real science, I'll betcha Kyle would understand. I am happy that she looks rather "normal" and isn't some gorgeous blonde babe in overly tight clothing whose previous career was modeling lingerie.
Next up in this menagerie of space explorers is Dr. Levant who apparently likes to look all pouty as he whines on about alien rights.
Aliens? //I was kidnapped by aliens//
Everything seems to slow down as I take in Dr. Levant's heart-felt plea to Danning (not that it did any good) and physical characteristics. He appears to be the same height, same build, has nearly the same glasses and even worries his lip in the same way as another Doctor I know.
I blink and quickly look over to Stefan. He just grins at me and shrugs - he sees it too. I know it! Before I can even wrap my mind around what I'm contemplating, I turn back to the TV to hear about Grell the Robot. A robot? Oh, come on!
We watch another five minutes of spots and then the pilot begins.
With half my brain, I listen to how this round ring thing transports people to and from other planets via a wormhole in space. Okay, now that is pretty cool. The show itself is complete sap however, full of slapstick humor and silly plastic props. Very much shades of Star Trek with perhaps a little X-Files thrown in. Colonel Danning is an obvious philanderer with questionable leadership skills; Major Monroe so needs to get laid; and can this Grell-bot even speak or is he only capable of raising that solitary eyebrow.
Ah, but it's the other half of my brain that is critically watching Dr. Levant and recording every mannerism, facial expression and word he says. Throughout the 41 minute show, I keep steeling glances at Stefan. At first, I think he's with me, but later I don't see him wondering why it is that Dr. Levant, an archaeologist and linguist, looks so damn similar to another archaeologist and linguist that we both know.
He's even wearing Daniel's glasses. I swear those are exactly Daniel's glasses.
The show ends and everyone takes a few minutes to stretch, eat and refill their wine glasses (or beer) before we fill out the questionnaire. Apparently, we have to work for this free screening.
I really want to corner Stefan for a few minutes, but he is taking the opportunity to play hostess and although he winks at me, doesn't stop long enough to chat. I steal Alli's chair in the corner as we reconvene.
"First question," Stefan says as he brings out the questionnaire. "On a scale of one to ten (ten being high), how would you rate this television show?"
"Six."
"Five."
"Five."
"Seven."
"Four."
Stefan laughs. "Well, this is going to be an interesting survey, isn't it?" He puts down 'five'.
"Question Two: Who was your favorite character?" Before we all blurt out our answers, Stefan amends the question. "I'm going around the room on that one. Let's start with Alli, and move clockwise." We all mumble our agreement
"Danning." Oh, big shocker there.
"Danning." This from Elliot of all people.
"Major Stacy Monroe," Chris says after a moment's pause. Naturally, the straight guy chooses the babe.
"Kira? Who'd you like best?"
"Guess!" I say a little too loud. I felt like I was underwater.
"We have Kira down for Dr. Levant," Stefan remarks casually, as he ticks off a box on his sheet.
"What about you, Stef?" Elliot asks.
"Oh, I thought Grell was just brilliant." Grell!
"Question Three: On a scale of one to ten (ten being high), was the show realistic?"
"Oh puh-leeze," I blurt out. "The military guys were walking around with giant 'Xs' on their backs!"
"I liked the 'Xs'," Allison says.
"Needed more glitter." This of course was from Elliot. We average our scores to a robust 'four' and move on.
"Question Four: On a scale of one to ten (ten being high), how would you rate the following: Acting, Costumes, Storyline, Special Effects?"
All of agreed that although the special effects in the beginning were a little weak (their wormhole portal was so lame), the ship at the end was wickedly cool. The storyline was interesting, if rather far-fetched (I know, I know - its science fiction). I thought the acting was pretty mediocre and over-acted, but Ellliot, Allison and Stefan loved it. Chris was closer to my camp on that one. All of agreed that the costumes could be better.
"Question Five: Do you believe in aliens?" Four sets of eyes dart in my direction. Apparently, my reputation precedes me.
"Oh come on," I say looking around the room. "This show aside, how can there not be alien life out there?"
"No contact," Chris replies.
"Hey, if I were an alien, I'd leave us the hell alone, too," Stefan adds, coming to my aid.
"Do you think there are flowers in outer space?" Ah, Alli - if there's oxygen, I'm sure there would be flowers and trees.
We go through over a dozen additional questions, some rather silly as they were more about marketing products than the show itself. I answer each question along with everyone else, but my mind can't seem to focus on anything except Dr. Levant.
//Kidnapped by aliens//
It must be the wine.
"All right, last question," Stefan pauses as he reads it, and then bursts out laughing.
"What's so funny?" I ask. Stefan shakes his head and hands me the paper. I read question ten aloud.
"Are you, or anyone you know independently wealthy, or affiliated with a television network looking to host new programs next fall?"
This show is so not going to see the light of day. Although I wonder...
What would Daniel say if I were to show it to him?
Title: Barista 45 -- Vicissitude
Spoilers: I'm Not Saying (you'll be able to figure it out)
Category: Angst/Humor
Rating: PG-13
It has been 48 hours since I watched that campy Sci-Fi pilot show over at Stefan's, and I'm still pondering over what to say to Daniel. I know one thing for sure - I have to say something. I mean, how can I not? Daniel has been teasing (dare I even think hinting?) about his unorthodox job for years - he can't possibly think my questions are anything weirder than what I see and hear every day.
Or maybe he can. After all, am I really considering...
"Kira."
"I'm listening," I reply automatically, adjusting the telephone to my ear.
"No you're not," Kyle answers tiredly, sounding abjectly disappointed in me. For several seconds there is uncomfortable silence.
Really uncomfortable silence.
"I'm sorry, Kyle," I say honestly, as I mentally curse myself for letting my attention wander. "You know me and telephones..." I told him on our very first date that I wasn't a very good phone person. I just don't see what the big deal is with the damn things. You want to talk to someone; you talk to them in person. And if you can't, you email them.
I never said I was logical.
"I know," Kyle says finally. He sighs and I can feel him shaking his head. "Kira..."
"Don't say it," I reply instantly.
"You don't know what I'm going to say," Kyle says a little defensively.
"Yes, I do." And I do, too. I know exactly what he's going to say, and I don't want to hear it. Not with my mind wrapped around what I'm going to say to Daniel; this whole bizarre CIA thing; figuring out what I'm going to write my dissertation on...
Oh.
The thought hits me like a ton of bricks. There are several very good and valid reasons for what Kyle is about to say.
I beat him to it.
"I'm sorry Kyle," I begin softly. "You're right - this isn't working. And it's completely my fault." My eyes fill with tears. This conversation might be a foregone conclusion, and it might be the right thing to do, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.
"I know you are, Kree," Kyle replies sincerely. I'll say one thing for dating a smart guy - he tends to "get" things far faster than the average Joe. He didn't even try to pretend like he didn't know what I was talking about.
Just like I didn't pretend with him. I wipe at my eyes as they begin to leak.
"You're preoccupied Kira," Kyle explains unnecessarily. "I know you have a lot going on, but I need to know that part of what you spend your day thinking about is me." I want to contradict him, but I can't. "Even when I'm with you Kira, I don't feel like I'm really with you," he continues. "It's like you're a million light years away, trying to figure out how to teach Sumerian to third graders." Okay, now that was stretching it.
I would never attempt to teach Sumerian to third graders.
Before I can give one of my patented, knee-jerk reactions to his (honest) assessment of me, I surprise myself by agreeing with him. "I know."
"I love you Kira, but we're just not in the same place in our lives right now."
"I know." Way to use multi-syllabic words, Kira. I want to say something - anything - but for the life of me, I can't think of a single thing to say.
In any language.
"Goodbye, Kira." I'm still struggling to come up with the perfect, classy line that will make everything just right... when he hangs up.
"You're moping," Stefan says, giving me a friendly nudge on the shoulder.
"I have every reason to mope," I reply, as I systematically take apart the (spare) espresso machine for cleaning. It might have taken me five years, but I can finally take the darn thing apart and put it back together without too much fuss. Cleaning machinery is very therapeutic.
"You know it was the right decision," Stefan says in an attempt to make me feel better.
"Can we talk about something else?" I really don't want to talk about it. I know Stefan is going to push me to do just that, when I'm saved by a bell. Colorado Bell, in fact. Stefan gives me a look that says, 'We're not done, here,' as he picks up the ringing telephone.
"Victor's Coffee," he says pleasantly. I kind of remember the last time I was pleasant...
"Kira?" Stefan repeats, looking at me oddly. "Yeah, she's here. May I tell her who's calling?" I swear, Stefan has the best manners of virtually anyone I know.
Except maybe Daniel...
He listens for a few seconds and his eyes grow large. "Sure, I'll get her for you." He puts the phone on hold and waves me over to him. "You'll want to take this in the back room, Kree," he advises handing me the phone. "It's the CIA."
Surreal doesn't even begin to describe how I feel as I lift up the receiver in the back room. It is 11:00 in the morning here in Colorado Springs, which makes it one-something on the East Coast.
"Hello?"
"Kira Meyers?" A voice asks. I don't recognize the voice, and thankfully, don't hear any giggling either. Although I had only told a handful of people about this whole thing, I know it still could have gotten around.
"Speaking." I never say things like this in "real" life, but it just feels right to be saying it to this disembodied voice from Virginia.
"Hi Kira. My name is Judy - we have emailed a few times regarding possible employment with the Central Intelligence Agency?
Oh
My
God
"You're offering me a job?" I squeek out. A warm chuckle reverberates through the phone.
"Oh no, honey - I'm not the one who does things like that!" Judy replies. I'm calling to see if you are available in two weeks for an in-person interview at the Hyatt Regency in Denver."
"Interview?" My voice sounds a little better, but not much. I can't believe this is happening.
"Yes, the Directorate of Intelligence is doing an interview blitz throughout the Midwest next week, and I'm calling to set up an interview time."
"With me?" I really have to stop saying such vastly intelligent things here...
"Yes, dear," she says smiling (I can hear it in her voice). With you." I don't have my calendar with me; I have no idea what my schedule is either at work or school; Instantly, I tell her I would. We talk logistics for a few minutes and she explains how all of this had been emailed to me last week, but apparently the message had been returned, which is why she was calling me directly. I'm way too stunned to even attempt to guess what might be wrong with my school email account.
I give Judy an alternate email address, and she lets me know that I can call her at any time if I have additional questions.
I'm trying hard not to think about the impending CIA interview. Instead, I'm thinking about Daniel and trying to come up with The Perfect Way to ask him about that television show. I actually don't see him for nearly a week, and do a double-take when he and Jack do appear - they're dressed in fatigues! Now it isn't so odd to see Jack dressed like this, but I've never actually seen Daniel clad in soldier attire, and it completely throws my game plan off kilter. I still have every intension of asking him about the show (and who knows - perhaps there is a very good reason why one of the characters in that God-awful pilot reminded me of him) but first I need to find out why he's dressed like an army guy.
Air Force guy.
"We have plenty of time, Daniel," Jack says as he pushes his friend inside. "You know you want it." I really hope they're talking about coffee here.
"It isn't that I don't want a decent cup of coffee, Jack," Daniel says, catching my eye and smiling. "It's just that I told Sam we'd meet her at 8."
"Carter can explain to the youngsters what to expect," Jack insists, clapping Daniel on the shoulder. "I need caffeine." I chuckle to myself as I hear Jack sounding very Daniel-like. "Besides," Jack says smiling widely, "you're buying."
"I am?" Daniel asks.
"Absolutely!" Jack replies. "We all decided that whoever is the..." Jack pauses for just a nanosecond, "bad guy, and thus has the easier of assignments, has to buy the rest of the team coffee."
"We did?" Daniel asks, frowning. "When did we decide that?"
"Carter, T' and I decided while you were getting cleared by Fraiser."
"Yeah, what's with that, Jack?" Daniel asks, completely ignoring the fact that his team apparently voted him as coffee boy when he wasn't looking. "We're not exactly going far, and we still have to be cleared by Janet? Does that seem right to you?"
"I don't make the rules, Danny, I just follow them." Daniel snorts.
"Right, Jack." Daniel orders their drinks (drip for Jack, double tall Americano for himself) and gives Jack a glinty look. "You know, I think I'm going to enjoy shooting you this afternoon."
"Well maybe I'll just shoot myself and prevent you from having all the fun," Jack replies. Now before I can even begin to decipher this conversation, they both turn (as one!) and look at me.
"Pretend, Kira," Daniel explains. "Our team is training some Air Force recruits today."
"And in this 'scenario', one of you shoots Jack?" I'm so not understanding this.
"It's a simulation, Kira," Jack explains. "We're trying to gauge how well these kids do during various simulated situations."
"And this one...?"
"This is the one will the Archaeologist gets his revenge and shoots everyone!" Daniel replies almost gleefully.
"I'm having Carter shoot me," Jack mutters. He and Daniel head over to the condiments area. "Kira, do you have any more cream?" Jack asks, holding up an empty carafe. Damn. I knew there was something I needed to do before the morning rush starts.
"Sorry about that Jack," I reply as I quickly pull out some half and half from the fridge. I'm in such a hurry to bring it to him, that I completely forget about our recent delivery of beans (usually delivered in the back, but the new driver was confused and dropped it off in the front), and trip over the bags lying between me and the empty cream canister. Right into and pretty much on top of Daniel.
Deja vu!
Jack has amazing reflexes, as he catches the cream container before it splats all over the floor, and Daniel (bless him) catches me. I'm not really complaining here (as if being pressed against Daniel is ever a problem), but I did have momentum on my side, and hit him pretty hard.
"Geeze, I'm sorry about that guys," I apologize slowly disentangling myself from Daniel's chest. "Daniel are you all right?"
"I'm fine Kira," Daniel answers in a voice that sounds a little like a cross between Satan and the Creature From the Black Lagoon. Instantly, I jump out of his arms and fall back over the bags of coffee. What the hell??
"Daniel?!" I ask, completely freaking out. "What the hell is wrong with your voice?"
"What?" Daniel says, looking completely mystified. I'm contemplating hyper-ventilating now. What is going on, here? Voices are not meant to sound like that!
"Ah dammit, Daniel!" Jack says angrily, reaching into Daniel's jacket. "What the hell are you doing wearing that thing already?" Realization flashes across Daniel's face. He smacks Jack's hand away, and taps at his chest before reaching down to help me up.
"I'm so sorry about that Kira!" Daniel says (in a normal voice, thank God). I look up at him in confusion.
"What's going on, Daniel?"
"Yes, Daniel," Jack repeats. "Explain to Ms. Meyers here why you scared the living crap out of her!" Jack is not a happy camper right now. Neither is Daniel, it seems.
"It's a voice box, Kira," Daniel explains, taking out a little black box. "We're pretty much going to use it to elicit the same reaction out of the recruits as it did to you."
"You're going to scare them into falling backwards over a bag of beans?" I reply shakily. Jack chuckles.
"Maybe not the beans part," Jack adds. "But we are trying to throw them a couple curve balls. We've found that a modulated voice box, combined with certain scenarios tends to bring out the best or worst in recruits. It is a very effective teaching aid." Effective for whom?
I'm still a bit shaken, but decide to use this (this being my discombobulation and their obvious guilt) to my advantage.
"Daniel?" I ask as he helps me to my feet.
"Yes?"
"Have you ever seen or heard of a television show called 'Wormhole X-Treme'? Much to my surprise, it is Jack that looks a little taken back.
"You saw that?!" Jack asks.
"Yeah," I reply. Yet again, I am completely confused. "You saw it as well?" I thought for sure (well, maybe) Daniel was somehow involved, but I sure didn't think Jack was!
"Jack was Wormhole's 'Technical Advisor'," Daniel says doing the whole bunny ear quote thing.
"You worked on that show, Jack?"
"Very briefly," Jack replies hastily, as if embarrassed by the whole thing. Which he probably is. I look back and forth between Jack and Daniel and don't understand what I'm seeing. Jack is the one who looks uncomfortable, not Daniel. Now, why would Jack be uncomfortable?
Then I get it.
"You're responsible!" I say, pointing at Jack. "Now, it makes sense!"
"What makes sense?" Jack asks, looking confused.
"You're the reason why that one character, that Dr. Levant guy, looks so much like Daniel."
"I am?" Jack asks. Now it's Daniel's turn to chuckle.
"Oh you caught that, did you?" Daniel says.
"Caught what?" Jack asks. Jack really needs to drink his coffee - he's a bit slow on the uptake this morning.
"Kira caught the similarity in the Dr. Levant character and myself," Daniel explains, slowly, to Jack.
"Why is everyone saying that?!" Jack moans. "That Nick guy looks nothing like me..."
"Kira is talking about me Jack," Daniel interrupts. "You know, archaeologist, linguist, works with the military..."
"Only instead of helping them out around here, apparently you do it on other worlds!" I'm cracking myself up here.
"So you saw some similarities between Daniel and that Levant guy," Jack repeats.
"Yep," I reply, nodding.
"Damn. And here I thought I was being subtle," Jack continues.
"Ha!" I exclaim. "You can't be subtle when you're talking about sending an archaeologist through a wormhole, Jack!"
"No," Jack says wryly, "I guess I can't." Daniel just stands there shaking his head.
"Kira, I'd love to know more about what you thought of the show," Daniel says, "but we need to get going."
"Yes. Going," Jack repeats. "Have recruits to scare and all that."
"Don't be too mean, Jack." I turn towards Daniel. "And try not to talk too much with that thing on, Daniel," I say. "It's pretty damn creepy."
"I'll try not too," Daniel says. I walk them to the door. They're already several yards down the street when I realize something.
"Daniel!" I shout after him. He turns back towards me.
"What is it, Kira?" Maybe it's for the best that all of this is rushed - no chance for Daniel to ask questions.
"Would you be a reference for me on a job application?" I ask in one breath. Daniel grins.
"Absolutely, Kira! I promise to say nothing but wonderful things about you!"
"That's great," I reply feeling a little guilty. "I'll tell you all about it the next time you come in."
"I look forward to it, Kira," Daniel says.
Good thing one of us does.
The interview is scheduled for 9:00 on a Thursday, with an Information Session to be held the evening before. I borrow a friend's car and drive up to Denver early Wednesday morning. I actually looked into staying at the Hyatt Regency to ensure that I get to everything on time. However, the cost of just a single night in that place, is nearly what I earn a week at Victors (part time, remember). I'm sticking to the original plan and staying with my aunt and uncle in Englewood. I'll commute the twenty minutes or so needed to get into Denver in the morning.
The ride up is uneventful, and I surprise myself by listening to classical music on the drive up (it was in the tape deck). I'm actually somewhat calm and feel pretty confident, as I take the proper exit and head into the city. I pay $10 and park in a nice secure lot with large spaces; there is no way I'm going to attempt to parallel park in a car that is not even my own - especially today.
I'm early of course, and as much as I want to head to The Tattered Cover (one of the best bookstores ever), I know that isn't the best of ideas. Besides, I'm really not near either of their stores. Can you imagine showing up late with the excuse that you lost track of time because you were browsing in a bookstore? I shudder at the thought, lock the doors and head towards the most comfortable place I know - a coffee shop.
It is very strange to be a "professional" barista in another shop. Dressed in my somewhat casual (the fancy one is for tomorrow) power suit, I know I must look like one of the business workers in the area. To make matters worse, I don't actually like coffee, so while I am finding comfort in the smell and all around chaos of the place, I can't just order a coffee and loiter. Instead, I order an iced tea. I accept my drink, tip the Barista and grab a seat next to a window in the corner. Within seconds I'm a combination bored/nervous. I take out my phone and call Stefan.
"I'm here," I say as he answers the phone.
"Any problems with the drive up?"
"Naaa," I reply shaking my head.
"Nervous?" I guffaw loudly in his ear.
"What do you think?" I ask.
"I think you reapplied anti-perspirant right as you exited the car, and are currently wondering if perhaps you shouldn't have chosen a different pair of shoes other than the Birkenstocks."
"I am not wearing Birkenstocks," I reply hotly. I actually changed out of the Birks as I left the car. I'm wearing ever so fashionable (and practical) sandals now. He's right about the deodorant though.
"Uh huh," Stefan replies. I can hear him grinning through the phone. "You'll do fine Kira," he says sincerely. "Just don't ask too many questions, try not to fidget, and whatever you do, don't pick your nose."
"Stefan!" Several people turn around at my outburst. "You're incorrigible," I remark, lowering my voice.
"Happily so," Stefan replies. "I have to go now, Kree - you'll do fine, don't worry about it."
"Thanks, Stefan," I answer feeling a little choked up. My friends rock. "I'll call you tomorrow after the interview."
"You'd better!" he insists. "Otherwise, I might sic Elliott on you." I'm smiling as we say our goodbyes.
I loiter for another thirty minutes, watching the baristas interact with "their" customers. I feel a twinge of something I can't quite articulate as I realize that sometime in the next year, I'm going to be leaving this job job I love. By choice, of course, but I know I'm going to have to. As much as I adore Victor and the shop and all the wonderful folks I work with - my future doesn't belong in coffee. Feeling a bit sad and nostalgic, I head across the street towards the Regency.
The first thing I notice as I nervously find the proper room and step inside is that there are no 'men in black'. In fact, most of the CIA staff present are women and they look quite normal in their pant suits. They're all older than I am, but are smiling and walking around introducing themselves to the other candidates. I give my name to the woman at the door (not Judy) and find a seat in the back row of the bank of tables. There are maybe ten other students/candidates in the room and it sounds like many of them are from CU. I feel like a country cousin.
The information session begins and once again, we are told how many applications the Central Intelligence Agency receives every month, and why all of us sitting in this room are possible candidates for intelligence work.
The hairs on my arms stand up as she says that.
The woman giving the presentation tells us a bit about her background and using Power Point slides, begins to give us a structural overview of the CIA. Everyone in the room are candidates to work for the DI - the Directorate of Intelligence. The DI, DST (Directorate of Science and Technology) and DO (Directorate of Operations) all report to the DCI (Director of Central Intelligence). Complete acronym soup!
I am so glad they didn't peg me for work in the DO. Those are the guys that go on "ops" and do all the scary things in foreign countries. A little light bulb flickers briefly in the back of my head. Hmmm - that sounds like something Jack would do.
The presenter goes on to tell us how the DI is divided into three main regional sections: Asia, Latin America & Africa; Near Eastern and South Asia; and Russia & Europe. Each of those areas has eight functional offices: terrorism, counter intelligence, weapons/intel/non-proliferation, crime & narcotics, information operations, collection strategies & analysis, chemical & biological, and transitional issues.
I'm taking detailed notes and wonder where they want to stick me. I mean, they must have to have some idea based on my skills and writing sample, yes?
The presentation continues with discussion on how much we'd get paid (salary is based on education and language skills). I follow this part with interest. Apparently, once I get my degree, I should be a 'GS-9' and depending on how many other languages I know (and if they're useful), I can receive up to $35,000 extra. My eyes nearly bulge out of my head right there. In theory, I could start working for them at $75,000.
Currently I make $18,000 and owe $25,000 in school loans.
We learn a little about what our day would be like working for the DCI and I am really surprised by how much cooperation there seems to be between agencies. Several different people come up and talk to us about their day-to-day experiences and it's pretty damn cool! One woman explained how she had worked for a year or so in the Latin American group, when one day she received a phone call (at home) at 3:00 in the morning, informing her that there had been a coup, and they needed some intelligence from her. Well, you aren't allowed to bring anything classified home with you (and of course can't talk about it on an un-secured line), so she had to head back into work to gather the data needed by the folks in the field. Almost three "nights" in a row, she would head home, only to be told that she was needed back at work. International security! Wow. I can't even imagine working on something so important. I have to admit, that alone makes it sound very worthwhile.
We take a quick break, and then the presentation on Security Clearance begins. The security officer quickly cuts to the chase and give us all the bad news first - getting top-secret clearance is not easy. It's not only intrusive and time consuming. It can take up to nine months for clearance! She also tells us about drugs. Now, everyone in the room had said, a) "No I haven't smoked pot in the last 12 months" and b) "No I haven't done drugs in the last seven years. Well, apparently, statistically speaking, two of us are lying! How's that for nutty?
She goes on to tell us about 'SF86' (the standard security form) and how we will be checked out by all the national security agencies, as well as having a very detailed history of our credit report pulled. There will of course be a polygraph and fingerprint session, and they will talk to both our formal references as well as "other sources" we might know you.
I think I'm nervous about those "other sources".
But the part that really makes me stop and think is this: If I am offered a position with the CIA, and if I accept, I pretty much lose my privacy for the duration of my employment with them. Anytime I go visit a friend outside the US, I have to let them know. If I meet someone "outside the Agency" for coffee or racquetball or something - I have to let someone know. I am not allowed to volunteer my time for a political party/person and I can't publish anything related to my field without going through a rather arduous review process.
And all my friends will be checked out as well.
I'm a little more somber as I leave the conference room and head back to the car. I really am excited about the type of work I might be allowed to do with them, but on the other hand, I'd have to work in Virginia. All first year new hires are required to do so, and there are no exceptions. All my friends would be "checked out" and then I would leave them! And I really don't know how I feel about not being able to publish outside of the Agency... I wonder if Daniel had to go through any of this when he accepted a position with the military. I mean, it might not be "top secret" clearance, but I bet Daniel had to sign a few forms and such. Lord knows there are plenty of things he isn't allowed to tell me about. On second thought - maybe he does have 'top secret' clearance. Maybe that's why he can't tell me anything.
Maybe Daniel and Jack actually work for the CIA!
I laugh at myself as I reach the car and unlock the door. Right Kira. Both Jack and Daniel work for a top-secret government organization inside a mountain in central Colorado.
And pigs fly.
Title: Barista 46 -- Crossing the Rubicon
Author's Notes: This one isn't written like a traditional Barista (Kira, first person), and reads pretty much like an everyday Stargate story (third person, team). I honestly can't recall if I've done one like this before... Regardless, this one is fun and a wee bit pivotal... (Damn. That was a hint, wasn't it?)
"Good morning, campers!" Jack O'Neill said jovially, as he sauntered into the gate room promptly at 0600. "Everyone ready for a fun-filled day on P7X-..." he looked at Major Carter expectantly.
"421 sir," Sam replied with a smile before continuing. "It's approximately 0900 on the planet, and we should have between four and a half and five hours of sunlight in order to reach our destination and set up camp." She was fairly certain the Colonel knew exactly where they were going, and why they needed to leave so early (elliptically speaking, the planet was incredible!), but if he liked to play the bumbling colonel every now and then, she wouldn't call his bluff. This is of course what a good 2IC does.
"I was just about to say that Carter," Jack said with a wave of his hand. He adjusted the brim of his cap and seeing that his team was present and accounted for, gave Walter the signal to dial it up.
"Sleep well, Teal'c?" Jack asked conversationally as the gate began to move.
"I successfully kelnoreemed, O'Neill," Teal'c replied in his usual even tone. After all these years, Jack O'Neill was still somewhat of an enigma to Teal'c. He could remain on watch for hours without scarcely moving, yet seldom could stay still (or quiet) for the sixteen seconds the gate took to lock onto an address. Curious.
"One of these days, I'll give that another go," Jack remarked as the third chevron locked. He leaned in slightly towards Teal'c. "I don't have to shave my head, right?"
Daniel listened to the morning banter dispassionately and concentrated hard on not yawning. It really was unfair how chipper Jack O'Neill was at 6 AM. Jack had this uncanny ability to not only come instantly awake no matter what the hour, but usually to do so in a good mood. Well, that is unless there was a very good reason for him not to be in a good mood. Say, waking up in a Goa'uld cell, or meeting the Tok'ra (especially Anise) - these tended to make Jack a little grumpy. No, Jack O'Neill was definitely a morning person.
Daniel Jackson on the other hand, was not.
Oh sure, he had worked on many digs. Often due to the location and extreme temperatures, Daniel usually had to be up with the sun (if not before). Many times, Daniel completely forgot about the early hour because he was so excited to get started on his work. However, this didn't make him necessarily a morning person. No, in order for him to be a true morning person, Daniel needed coffee - preferably a double tall Americano from Victors. Making his own using the French Press Sam had gotten him all those years ago was good - but it just wasn't the same.
And he never had enough refills.
Daniel sighed and mentally crossed his fingers that the mission would go smoothly and they would be back by Wednesday; he really needed to talk to Kira. Daniel frowned slightly as he felt the outlines of a single piece of paper his front jacket pocket. On second thought, he really needed to talk to Jack.
The bad news was that the source of the naquadah readings was a good 15 kilometers from the gate and the solar day ended in less than six hours. The good news was that it was a beautiful day.
Jack idly thumbed the safety of his P90 and wondered what was going on with Daniel. Yeah, sure this mission wasn't archaeological in nature, but Daniel usually had plenty to say about the planet. He hadn't spoken more than a few words to either Sam or Teal'c, and hadn't said anything to Jack except to signal when he needed to pee.
Something was going on, and as leader of SG-1 (not to mention Daniel's friend), it was up to Jack to figure it out. He slowed down his pace until he and Daniel were walking side by side.
"Nice day," Jack said conversationally. He grimaced even as the words came out of this mouth; he so sucked at small talk.
"Yeah, it is," Daniel replied sullenly, as he continued walking straight ahead. He was too lost in his own thoughts to really pay any attention to Jack. Jack was slightly surprised (and more than a little proud) to see that although Daniel's thoughts seemed to be a million miles away, he was holding his weapon correctly and his eyes really did appear to be tracking the terrain ahead.
Wow. He really does know what he's doing these days.
Deciding to forego small talk completely, Jack stopped short and turned to face Daniel. "You wanna tell me what's going on?" Daniel frowned.
"Well, I was walking..." Daniel began.
"Oh, cut the crap, Daniel," Jack interrupted good-naturedly. Daniel might be in a foul mood, but Jack felt just fine. "Something has been bugging you since we left the SGC - and it's more than the fact that we left too early for you to get a decent cup of coffee." In spite of himself, Daniel half-smiled. Jack knew about that, did he?
"You couldn't convince Hammond to let us leave just thirty minutes later?" Daniel whined, trying to keep the topic off him. He had actually forgotten all about his missed coffee, but now that Jack had brought it up...
"Hey, it was Carter's call," Jack backpedaled, holding up a hand in defense. Okay, so technically it was his call because he was CO, but it was Carter who had told him about the three-hour "gate lag" between worlds. Not to mention the fact that each "day" on this world was just sixteen hours long; six hours of sunlight and ten hours of darkness. Was it his fault that it made the most sense to get an early start?
"Yeah, I know," Daniel replied, having already forgotten the pain of foregoing his morning coffee.
"So, what's up?" Daniel stared into his friend's eyes and knew he couldn't wait any longer. After three hours of walking, he was pretty certain the planet was Goa'uld- free and there didn't seem to be any human colonies close to the gate. No major predators, no sentient vines... now was as good a time as any. Daniel reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. An extremely well-read piece of paper.
"Do you know what this is, Jack?" Daniel asked, waving the paper in his friend's face.
"No Daniel, I can't say that I do," Jack replied calmly. Jack's first reaction was 'divorce papers', but of course that couldn't be it. Funny what comes back to a guy after six years...
"At first I thought it was a joke," Daniel began as he started pacing up and down the mossy floor of the forest. "I mean, it had to be a joke..." Daniel's voice trailed off as he glanced down at the paper in his hands.
"Daniel, what does the letter say?" Jack asked gently. Whatever it was, it was obviously making Daniel very upset. Ipso facto - Jack was now upset
"It's from the CIA." Jack's brain froze for a moment as he did a mental double take. Well that was unexpected.
"The CIA wrote you a letter?" Jack asked, needing clarification. It was bad enough having the NID breathing down their necks, if his team was being harassed by the Central Intelligence Agency (although what the hell would those spooks want with them?), Jack needed to know.
"Yeah," Daniel answered morosely, glancing down at the paper again. "Jack, they even had my current address!" Considering how many times Daniel had moved or been declared dead, this was actually quite impressive.
"What does it say, Daniel?" Jack repeated, looking at his friend expectantly.
"It's a reference check," Daniel replied darkly as he started walking again.
"A reference check," Jack repeated matching Daniel's pace.
"Yes."
"Someone you know is looking to work for the CIA?" Daniel had oodles of scientists working under him. While Jack couldn't imagine anyone quitting a job at the SGC in order to work for the CIA, stranger things had happened. Say aliens building the pyramids for example.
"Someone we both know," Daniel clarified. He gave Jack a quick glance as he continued to walk forward. For the life of him, Jack could not think of anyone they both knew (at least someone close) who would ever want to work for the CIA - especially someone who would ask Daniel for a reference check before himself. Unless it was a scientist...
"Dr. Lee!" Jack said, snapping his fingers. "You didn't give him that raise he asked for and..."
"It wasn't Bill, Jack," Daniel scoffed in reply. "Besides, I did give him a 6% raise. He deserved it."
"You did?"
"Yep."
"I think Lee makes more than me," Jack mused aloud.
"I still make more than Bill, Jack."
"So, only you make more than me, then." Jack clarified.
"Well, I did decipher the Stargate after all..." This was a familiar game for the two men. Daniel actually did make more than Jack - but he didn't have a military pension nearly as good. Neither of the men were materialistic, and neither spent even half the money they earned (saving the world usually resulted in a hefty Christmas bonus), so the slight discrpency in pay wasn't a big deal.
"I give up Daniel," Jack said after thinking about it for a few more seconds. "Who do we both know that is applying to the CIA?"
"Kira."
"Kira?"
"Kira," Daniel affirmed with a nod.
"Our Kira?" Jack repeated, still not believing what Daniel was telling him.
"Yeah." Both men walked in silence for several moments.
"Intelligence Officer?" Jack asked, curiosity piqued.
"It doesn't say," Daniel replied holding up the letter to read for the thirty-second time. "I don't think so."
"Well, we'll just assume no on that one, shall we?" Jack added. "After all, she has known us for nearly five years and I'd hate to think we were some kind of test..."
"Jack, you're missing the point!" Daniel cried, stopping again as he faced his friend. "Kira wants to work for the CIA!"
"And you don't want Kira to work for the CIA," Jack clarified.
"God, of course not!" Daniel replied vehemently. "Do you?"
"Daniel," Jack answered patiently. "If I remember correctly, you also didn't want her to work for the Air Force or any branch of the military service."
"It's a post 9/11 world, Jack!" Daniel replied in a loud voice. "Of course, I don't want her working for the military!"
"She's going to graduate soon, Daniel," Jack continued in a rational voice. "She'll need to do more with her life than make a damn fine cup of coffee."
"I know that!" Daniel cried angrily. He just didn't know what to do about it. Or rather he did...
"Where do you see her working, Daniel?" Jack asked softly. Being the smart guy that he was, Jack had a fairly good idea of what Daniel was going to say next.
"Here, Jack." Daniel let out a long sigh and stopped moving.
"P7X-421?" Jack knew it was the wrong thing to say, but he just couldn't resist.
"Jack, would you be serious!" Daniel was in no mood for games. "I see her working with us. Here. Earth-here, that is. At the SGC." Jack nodded and looked thoughtful. He took a moment to look around. Ah trees...
"Carter, Teal'c you copy?" Jack asked as he keyed his mike.
"Copy, sir," Sam replied.
"I am here, O'Neill."
"We're going to stop here for the night. Why don't you and Teal'c do a perimeter sweep while Daniel and I get the tents set up?" Sam was a very good 2IC; she completely understood the Colonel's veiled order. He wanted to talk to Daniel. Alone.
"Understood, sir," she replied. "Teal'c and I will circle around and come back to you from the south. I anticipate it will take us twenty minutes."
"I believe it will be closer to thirty minutes, MajorCarter," Teal'c added. Jack looked away so Daniel couldn't see his lips twist upwards in a small smile - his team rocked! Daniel meanwhile had taken off his backpack and had begun to rummage around in search of the elusive tent.
"That would be great, T'. Yell if you need anything - O'Neill out."
"I think Teal'c has the tents," Daniel said, as he looked up from his half-open backpack. "I have the stove and fuel, Sam has the food, you have the.."
"Daniel."
"Well, you have to have one of the tents," Daniel corrected. "Because, Teal'c shouldn't be carrying both of them..."
Daniel!"
"What?!"
"Come here." Jack waved his friend over to a "clean" bit of a log. "Pull up a stump." Daniel's shoulders slumped as he allowed his pack to fall over and plopped down next to Jack on a mossy bit of wood.
"You want Kira to work for the SGC," Jack repeated.
"Yes." Daniel picked up a broken stick and began to dig in the dirt like a petulant child.
"You want Kira to work for you at the SGC." It was best if Jack fully understood the situation at hand.
"Yes." More digging. Had Daniel not been so intent on his digging, he would have seen Jack break into a very large and sincere grin.
"Well, it's about frickin' time!" Jack declared, slapping Daniel on the back. The jolt, combined with Jack's words caused Daniel to nearly fall of his log.
"What did you say?"
"You heard me," Jack replied, eyes dancing with merriment.
"You want Kira to work for the SGC?" Daniel knew Jack liked Kira, but he never imagined that he would agree to this.
"Daniel, I knew I wanted Kira to work at the SGC since the day your appendix decided to give up the ghost and Kira was there to save your ass." Jack grinned. "And not for the first time, I might add." Daniel was speechless.
"You've wanted Kira at the SGC for over a year?!"
"Yep."
"And you never said anything?" Jack chuckled as he shook his head.
"Daniel, I take it you want her with you - your team, I mean." Jack was 99.9% certain that Daniel and Kira's friendship was platonic, but there was that very strange day after Shifu...
"Of course I want her on my team!" Daniel cried, not catching any of Jack's innuendos. "She's brilliant, Jack! She has this amazing ability to look at a new language and figure out how to not just speak it - but organize it. Catalog it - make it available for others. I need someone like that on my team."
"Then she's yours," Jack said simply. "I mean, if she agrees that is."
"That's it?" Daniel was stunned at how easy this was.
"Daniel," Jack said with a sigh, "I did a cursory background on Kira two years ago."
"What?!" Instantly, Daniel was on edge.
"Hold on - hold on, let me explain."
"Please do." Now this sounded like the Jack he knew.
"When the hell did you lose your trust, Daniel?" Jack asked, completely taken back. He knew that Daniel had been thrown a curve ball here, but seriously, there was something going on with young Doc Jackson. Jack made a mental note to try to figure it out in the next couple of weeks. He knew it couldn't possible be all about Kira. Jack tried a different tact.
"Daniel," he started in a sincere voice. "It isn't unusual at all for me, or anyone in the higher ranks of the military, to run background checks on civilians that are spending a lot of time with our people."
"Really?"
"Really," Jack affirmed with a nod. "Remember last year when that that new guy, Collins I think his name was, left the SGC without notice?" Daniel vaguely remembered the incident. Gary Collins was a civilian contractor who had worked in biomedical. He nodded at Jack to continue.
"Well, it turned out that he was having a relationship with a cocktail waitress across town." Daniel looked at him expectantly. "She wasn't a cocktail waitress, Daniel."
"NID?"
"Yeah."
"Kira, is not NID, Jack."
"Of course she isn't, Daniel! I'm just making a point here."
"Your point being that you check up on people?"
"Yes!"
"You just randomly decided to do a background check on our Kira?"
"God, Daniel! You can be so damn dense sometimes!" Jack cried in exasperation. "I wanted her to work for the SGC!"
"You did?"
"Of course, I did! I knew right away that she wouldn't be interested in the military, but I was sure hoping she'd continue studying languages. And do you know how long those background checks can take..."
"Well then why didn't you tell me, Jack?!" Daniel was pissed. Pissed that Jack had run a check on Kira. Pissed that he hadn't told Daniel about it. Pissed that...
"Because Daniel, I knew she'd be your employee."
"So?" Daniel shimmered with belligerence and hurt.
"Daniel," Jack said taking his friends by both shoulders and roughly turning him towards himself. "She would be working for you. I couldn't very well tell you whom to hire."
"Since when has that..." Daniel's voice suddenly lost all traces of anger and animosity as he realized that Jack was right. "You've never told me who I can or can't hire." Daniel stated quietly.
"Nope."
"In fact, you've never bothered me at all about my staff." Realization hit Daniel like a pail of cold water.
"Uh uh," Jack agreed shaking his head. "I might have annoyed you about everything else under God's green earth, but never that."
"No," Daniel said nearly inaudibly. "You never have." A great whoosh of air whistled through his teeth as his head dropped heavily towards his hands. "I'm such an ass."
"Occasionally," Jack agreed amicably.
"So, let me get this straight, Jack," Daniel began. "You ran a check on Kira two years ago."
"Yes."
"And you've been waiting all this time for me to come to you and say I wanted her on my team?"
"Pretty much," Jack said shrugging. "I was curious which direction she would go with graduate school, but after she went to Egypt, I knew it was pretty much a foregone conclusion that she'd have to work for us."
Silence.
"You really didn't become a Colonel because of your looks, did you Jack?"
"Well, it didn't hurt.." Jack replied smiling, mentally sighing with the knowledge that everything was going to be okay. At least today anyhow. Off in the distance they could hear Teal'c and Sam returning. He helped Daniel to his feet as Teal'c appeared through the trees.
"Everything all right?" Sam asked worriedly. Something had obviously been bothering Daniel for a while, and Sam hoped she and the Colonel had talked about it.
"I believe so," Jack replied. "We good, Daniel?" He looked a little uncertainly at his friend.
"We're good," Daniel replied with an affirmative nod. He looked down at the crumpled paper in his hand.
"So, what are you going to do?" Jack asked. Now that Daniel knew that he wanted Kira at the SGC as well, Daniel had some decisions to make. Daniel looked at his team, eyes twinkling with delight.
"Make her a better offer."
So are you smiling? Grinning even? My goal here is to have each and every one of you positively bouncing up and down in happiness (I figure if I am, it's only fair you are too). Ah, but how is Daniel going to tell her? And what will our girl say? These, and other questions will be answered in the next exciting installment of.. The Barista! (Lol. Sorry - I couldn't resist!) Please let me know what you thought of this - there were so many ways this could have played out, and I really want to know if this worked for you. And if you have time - please sign my guestbook! It's shiny new and makes me happy. *g*
Thank you to Flatkatsi, Redbyrd and Shado for their pre-posting advice and a very special thank you to Louise who was with me all those months ago when the idea for this one struck. Thanks for the unflagging support Lou!
And just in case you're curious as to the title, here's the definition: The Rubicon is a river in Italy and (so the saying goes) the one that Julius Caesar led his army over the river and thus began a civil war. In common vernacular, the phrase is used to mean “take the decisive step”, “bite the bullet”, or “make one's move”. Now does it make sense?
Completed August 12, 2005
website: htp://www.dietcokechic.com/stargate
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Barista Series - Chapters 41 -46
by DietcokechicStory Bemerkung:
Okay, so after this posting, everyone will be current! (As of 8/19/05 that is). Site Navigation
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