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Title: Bad Day
Author: Ky (Venom_69)
Fandom: Stargate EssGeeWun. Been a while, eh?
Category: Humor
Pairing:
S/J
Rating: Mature Adult. Swear words and a hint of the good stuff.
Summary:
Archive: My site. Anywhere else, sure,
just let me know where so I can come visit.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, never will. Promise to put them back in the
state I found them. Song’s not mine either. That would belong to Daniel Powter.
Author’s notes: Credit to SOS
for the amusing line in this fic. Blame to Jo who tells me I was meant to be writing this for her… I don’t think
this is what she’d expected! Apologies for the song, but it fit!
Date: 10/06/06
Copyright © to Venom, 2006
***
You
work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
The camera don't lie
You're coming back down and you really
don't mind
You had a bad day
***
Daniel was having a bad day.
A really bad day.
There
weren’t enough words to describe exactly how bad this day had been, but Daniel was willing to try.
This morning,
for example, he’d lost his eyebrow brush down the toilet. That, he could live with.
Then, Teal'c called him and
said that he needed to go shopping.
At the mall.
Three days before Christmas.
That, he could also live
with.
But then, when they got to the mall, he’d backed into a pole. There was now a rather ugly dent in the back
of his shiny car. This would not be tolerated.
“Daniel Jackson?”
Daniel never thought that he would
get sick of hearing his own name. But in the last hour, he’d been asked so many questions that he was ready to explode.
It was like babysitting a two-year-old. A very annoying two-year-old.
Sigh.
“Yes, Teal’c?”
Teal’c
pointed to the antique store across the mall. “What is reproduction furniture?”
He just couldn’t
take it anymore.
“They make tables you shag on.”
***
Jack was having a bad day.
A
really bad day.
There weren’t enough words to describe exactly how bad this day had been, but Jack was
willing to try.
This morning, for example, he’d been smack-bang in the middle of the best dream ever.
There were good dreams, really good dreams, amazing dreams and then there was this one.
He’d had really
great dreams before – several, in fact – but nothing quite compared to this one.
It involved a bottomless
Carter, the hood of a 1957 Black Shevvy Convertible and his tongue. Even thinking about it made him tingle. He’d just
been getting to the good part – literally – and the shrill of his god damn cell phone had woken him.
Not
just woken him, but shocked the hell out of him. So much so that he’d fallen out of bed and hit the floor.
Face
down.
With a hard-on the size of Texas.
Then, after he’d sworn for the appropriate amount of time, he’d
answered the phone only to have the SGC in his ear. And it was Carter and she wasn’t asking him to fuck her so it sucked
– in the bad way.
But then, he’d had to come into the base on his day off and save the freaking world.
Again.
Could these people do nothing without him?
World saved, he’d gone to see Carter
and annoy… er, entertain her.
“Sir?”
Sigh. “Yes, Carter?”
“Can
I get your help with these, please?”
Was she thrusting her breasts out to him or was he still horny from the
dream? “Sure, where are we going?”
“Briefing room.” She gestured for him to pick up the…
whatever it was. “General Hammond wants to see these. I’ve spent the last few days working on a presentation for
him.” She looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “Daniel was going to help me, but Teal’c had some kind
of crisis, so I need someone to help throughout the presentation…”
If she weren’t so hot, he’d
shoot her.
***
Teal’c was having a bad day.
A really bad day.
There weren’t
enough words to describe exactly how bad this day had been, but Teal’c was willing to try.
This morning, for
example, he had awoken from Kel’no’reem only to discover that it was three days before the Earth holiday of Christmas
and he had yet to purchase the Cafeteria Cook a gift.
If he neglected to present her with a gift in three days time,
she would refuse to serve him the extra cheesey pizza for the next year and that would just not do.
Then he had been
informed that there was no one available to drive him to the mall – and the Big Bosses of this world still weren’t
comfortable with him driving alone.
Chickens.
But then, when he’d called Daniel Jackson and requested
assistance, he had been answered with a growl. A growl.
That boy needed a good kick up the mik’ta.
Teal’c
looked at the item in the display cabinet. It would be a perfect gift to exchange for the extra cheesey pizza, except…
“I
wish to purchase this in purple.”
“I’m sorry sir,” The sales assistant smiled apologetically.
“It doesn’t come in purple. Yellow is all we have.”
The Cafeteria Cook hated yellow. “I do
not wish to purchase the colour yellow.”
“I’m sorry sir.”
Did she not understand the
importance of the extra cheesey pizza? “I want this in purple!”
Humans!
***
Sam was
having a bad day.
A really bad day.
There weren’t enough words to describe exactly how bad this
day had been, but Sam was willing to try.
This morning, for example, she had been in the middle of a really great
dream.
There were good dreams, really good dreams, amazing dreams and then there was this one.
It had involved
Colonel O’Neill, a shower stall and her mouth. Even thinking about it made her mouth water. But then she’d woken
up. Only to discover that she’d fallen asleep in her lab. Again. On her laptop. Again. And she’d
drooled on the keyboard. Again. And she had little indents in her cheek from the keys. Again.
Then Daniel
had called.
He who had promised to be her savior and help her with the presentation for Hammond. He who had guaranteed
that he would be there to help her come rain, hail or shine. And he’d cancelled on her. Teal'c was having a crisis.
One that involved the mall. And he was “really sorry Sam but I can’t just leave the poor guy to suffer.”
He
just didn’t want to sit through her presentation.
Asshat.
But then, to make matter worse – or better,
depending how you looked at it – O'Neill had come to her lab. In a leather jacket. And slightly sweaty from saving the
world – apparently, anyway. Sam suspect it was more about saving the last of the red jell-o.
When she’d
managed to convince her brain that working would be a really great idea right about now, he’d announced that
he was bored and she should consider it her solemn duty to entertain him.
She’d convinced him to help her with
the presentation – Convinced meaning thrust her breasts in his general direction and said please. – and he’d
helped her carry all of the equipment to the briefing room. Helped her set it up, given her a little pep talk about how great
it’d all go.
And then laughed at her when Hammond called.
“How long did he say he was gonna be?”
“About
an hour.”
“What are you gonna do with all this?”
Sam shrugged. “Wait, I guess.”
“I’ll
wait with you, if you like.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Hey, Carter?”
“Yes,
Sir?”
“I spy with my little eye…”
Sigh.
It was going to be a long hour.
***
George
was having a bad day.
A really bad day.
There weren’t enough words to describe exactly how bad
this day had been, but George was willing to try.
This morning, for example, he had woken up, showered, got dressed,
looked at his daily planner and discovered that he had a meeting with Carter first up.
A three-hour meeting.
About technology.
Which meant she’d use the big words and he couldn’t bring his science dictionary
with him without looking like a twat.
Then, he’d put his reservations aside – it really was an important
meeting – and headed to the base.
He’d only been in his office for a few minutes when his daughter called.
She was stuck in traffic and Kayla had been in a small accident at school – something about a Frisbee and a banana peel
– and “dad could you please go and pick her up?”
So he’d been the good grandparental
and gone to pick up the crying child. He’d made sure she wasn’t permanently damaged and promised the teacher that
he’d take her to hospital at the first sign of trouble. He’d made her happy with a trip to McDonalds – and
a cheeseburger for himself, but he wouldn’t be telling Doctor Fraiser about that – and taken her back to her mother
who had now reached home.
But then, as he’d got back to the SGC and mentally prepared for a meeting and a migraine,
he’d been met with a rather angry looking Teal'c and a rather grumpy Daniel Jackson.
“Bad day?” he
asked, making idle conversation as the elevator descended.
“The people of his world are uncooperative and rude.”
Teal’c was growling. That was never a good sign.
Daniel held up a hand as the elevator stopped and the doors
open. “Don’t ask.”
Walking through the halls together, Hammond wondered if they were planning to
sit through the presentation with him. Not that he minded; Daniel and Teal’c playing footsie under the table was likely
to be far more entertaining that Carter's theory on whateverthehellitwasthisweek.
Daniel held the door open for them
and Hammond stopped mid-stepped as he was greeted with a view of someone’s ass – no doubt, O'Neill’s –
and a pair of very feminine legs wrapped around them.
The noises – oh god, the noises! – that they were
making were disturbing and Hammond was reasonably certain that his eyes and ears would never recover.
He coughed discreetly.
“Oh,
shit.”
Oh shit indeed. “Anyone want to tell me what is going on here? Beyond the obvious.”
Blonde
hair peeked up over broad shoulders, followed by a pale forehead and blue eyes that were cringing. “We were waiting
for you, Sir.”
So he could see. “And?”
“We got bored.”
“So you…”
Started fucking on the table? He just couldn’t say it.
The shoulders shrugged. “I’m not very good
at ‘eye spy.’”
There really wasn’t much to say.
Catching two subordinates screwing
was likely the worst part of his bad day.
And, seriously, O’Neill’s ass was destined to haunt his dreams
for months.
Shudder.
Teal’c was the only one who was brave enough – or stupid enough – to
speak at that point. “I was unaware that the briefing room table was an item of reproduction furniture.”
***
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