"Hey, Teal'c, where's Major Carter?" Jonas asked. Teal'c looked up from Pride and Prejudice.
"I believe she is in the Commissary with Colonel O'Neill," he replied. "Colonel O'Neill expressed a desire to eat cake."
"Right," said Jonas. "Hey, five bucks says it's blue Jell-o!"
Teal'c gave him a long, blank stare, as only a Jaffa can. "I do not understand your meaning, Jonas Quinn," he said.
"Oh, it's an earth custom I picked up off Colonel Dixon," Jonas explained. "Placing wagers on things. You know, just for fun."
"You wish to gamble money, Jonas Quinn?" Teal'c asked.
"No! No," said Jonas hurriedly. "It's just a joke, that's all. You know: I bet you five dollars Major Carter's eating blue Jell-o right now!"
"How do you plan to determine if this is the case?" Teal'c asked.
"Well, I'll go down to the Commissary and check," said Jonas.
"And how will I know that you have told the truth?" Teal'c demanded. "You could easily lie, in order to ensure that you would win the money."
"Ah, come on, I wouldn't do that!" Jonas protested.
"We have known each other only a very short time, Jonas Quinn. How do I know that you would be true to your word?"
Jonas opened his mouth to reply, and then shut it again. "You know what, it doesn't matter," he said. "I'll catch- I'll SEE you later."
He left, and Teal'c grinned quietly to himself. Jonas was so delightfully easy to wind up…
*************************************************************
"So," said Sam, taking a spoonful of blue Jell-o. "Any thoughts on our new team member?"
Jack sighed. "I dunno, Carter," he said. "Jonas is desperate to be involved, the Russians are pushing for one of their folks on the team, Hammond just wants me to make up my mind…"
"Well, it has been three months, Sir," Sam pointed out.
"What do you think?" Jack asked her.
Sam was taken aback. "It's not really my decision, Sir," she said.
"Yeah, but you're on the team as well. I just want your opinion."
"Well…" Sam hesitated. "What about Jonas?"
"Ah, come on…" Jack began.
"Well, would you rather have a Russian?" Sam demanded, a little testily.
"I'd rather have ANYONE than a Russian, Carter," Jack said.
Sam subsided a little. "What have you got against Jonas, anyway?" she asked.
"Nothing," said Jack. "It's just… I don't know if he's up to the job."
"He's a fast learner, Sir," Sam pointed out. "Medically so. And he's physically fit; – I think he would do fine."
"Yeah, well, I'm not sure I'm happy with him being oh-so-smart and all-knowing," said Jack, angrily stabbing at a piece of pie.
"Daniel was," said Sam quietly.
"I know," Jack replied. "But Jonas isn't Daniel."
"That's your problem with him?"
"I don't have a problem with him," Jack objected.
"Sir?" said Sam questioningly.
Jack sighed in frustration. "I guess it's just that he's… trying to take Daniel's place, ya know? Just the thought of him in Danny's lab, reading all his books, poking around in all his stuff, it's just…"
He stopped, and put his hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples in frustration. Sam hesitated. Then, very carefully, she edged her hand along the table until, very gently, she laid it over his. He didn't look up, and he kept his eyes closed, but after a few seconds he turned his hand palm upright and grasped hold of her fingers, and she squeezed back in response.
After a moment, she said, softly: "We should clear out his apartment."
"Yeah," Jack murmured. "We'll do it this weekend."
"Teal'c will want to help."
Jack only nodded.
Slowly, they let go, and went back to cake.
********************************************************************
"Alright, Bosworth, pay up," said Colonel Dixon, holding his hand out to the airman.
"Sir?" Bosworth questioned, following the Colonel's gaze across the Commissary to where Carter and O'Neill were sharing cake.
"Pay up, I said," Dixon repeated. "They're sleeping together."
"How do you know that, Sir?" Bosworth asked.
"Look at them; they're holding hands!"
"So? That doesn't prove anything!" Bosworth protested.
"Sure it does," said Dixon.
"No it doesn't," Bosworth argued. "Their team-mate just died. They're just being… you know, comforting. Friendly."
"Oh, so you'd hold my hand like that, would you?" Dixon asked dryly.
"Well, if you wanted me to, Sir," said Bosworth, frowning a little.
"What, you think I want you to?"
"Well… no, Sir, to be honest."
"So you WOULDN'T hold my hand like that?"
"Well… No."
"So, they're sleeping together," Dixon concluded. "You owe me fifty bucks."
"But Sir, isn't it a little hard to prove?" Bosworth objected. "I mean, conclusively?"
"Oh, fair enough," Dixon relented with a sigh. Then he brightened slightly. "Alright, but ten bucks o' mine says Dr. Jackson isn't really dead."
"I'll take you on that, Sir," said Bosworth.
"I just hope they don't clear out his apartment," said Dixon. "He's bound to be back sooner or later…"
~*~
Story Notes: WARNINGS: No pies or Jell-o were harmed in the writing of this fanfic.
SPOILERS: Up to beginning of Season 6, really.
SPOILERS: Up to beginning of Season 6, really.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]