Gen Fic: Five Legends About SG-1 That Aren't True

First posted to the web December 2008.

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#1. Thor does not like Jack best. Jack's not the “go-to” guy everyone thinks he is, believe me I know. He wants you to think that, just like he wants you to think that he's Thor's right hand man. Not true. Even if he did get a ship named after him. Thor likes Sam, too, because she's “primitive” enough to blow things up. Like the Jack O'Neill. No surprise there in my opinion. Siler's taking bets on who Thor beams up next and the odds are in my favor. And the ship Thor named after me? Sam didn't blow that one up... yet.

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Gen Fic: World in Our Hands

First posted to the net December 2008. Written for the prompt snowman.

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Sam saw the glass tilt and swirl and tilt again as Daniel turned the snow globe in his hand. The globe held a snowman complete with a carrot nose, tiny charcoal eyes, small red mittens, and a silvery blizzard on command.

“Sorry, Sam” he said noticing her curiosity. “My parents had one of these with them in Egypt. Before I'd ever seen snow, I spent hours turning it upside down, watching the crystals fall, and wondering what it would feel like to touch the real thing. I thought the world inside the globe was magic. Even now, now that I've seen all the snow Colorado has to offer,” he waved at the real thing out the window, “these little things are...special.” He held out his hand to return the treasure to her.

“You thought it was magic, Daniel, because it is. Watch.” She put her hand over his, wrapping their fingers together, and twisted, sending the snowflakes swirling. Hands together, they watched the little whirlwind of white settle on the tiny cap of the always laughing snowman. “An untouchable world. Small, safe, and happy. A world we hold in our hands. What more wonderful magic is there than that?”

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Gen Fic: No Free Lunch

First posted to the web August 2008.

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“O'Neill set me up,” Cam whispered, crouching behind a boulder and looking into the cave beyond. He panned his weapon around slowly using the light on the scope to check for any threats in the darkness. “Definitely a set up.”

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Gen Fic: In the Present, the Past

First posted to the web March 2008.

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Daniel remembers many things clearly about his parents.

Not their deaths, oddly enough. Not that he doesn't remember it, because he does, he remembers it well; but that's not what he remembers most.

What Daniel remembers is that they told him to put away his tools when he was done with them because an archaeologist needs to have a sense of order to understand the chaos of the centuries.

“Daniel, do you have that last crate packed? We'll need to tie the whole thing down, so let me know when you're done,” Sam said. “Be careful with that thing. It's probably older than General O'Neill and twice as valuable.”

Daniel smiled. “Don't let Jack hear you say that.”

“Exactly how old is the general?” Vala asked. “And when do I finally get to meet him?”

She and Sam discussed the legendary General Jack O'Neill while Daniel continued packing. He tugged the last bit of tissue paper around a vase from a dynasty that would make Ming look like last Tuesday, and would keep his department in tears of joy for months.

oo~~OO~~oo

What he remembers is that they taught him to love language, and its discovery. He remembers at the ripe old age of seven brushing the dirt gently away from faint hieroglyphics on a temple wall, trying to read the story revealed there, while his parents knelt on either side of him.

“Will this translation take you long, Daniel Jackson?” Teal'c leaned over Daniel's shoulder to look at the artifacts arrayed carefully for transport. “Some of the script seems familiar. If you require my assistance....” His voice faded away.

“I'd be happy to have your help, Teal'c,” he answered. Some of the writing was a Goa'uld variant and some of it—some of it—was in Ancient. He had tablets, scrolls, hours of video footage, all waiting for him to unlock their secrets—when he had time, when he wasn't off world, when he could spare an hour or two. He secured the lid on the last crate and tried to figure out when he'd have a free day to immerse himself in discovery.

oo~~OO~~oo

What he remembers is that his parents wouldn't let him bring his artifacts into the house, or the tent, or wherever it was they called home at the time. They gave him space in one of the outbuildings for his “treasures” and made him keep all of them—animal, vegetable, or mineral—in a safe spot away from their living quarters. Until they found him sleeping beside his discoveries to protect them from grave robbers—at which point they'd dragged him inside and put him to bed, treasures scattered all about the floor.

“So, Daniel,” Vala stuck her chin in his shoulder, startling him, “can we sell any of this stuff on the black market—or on eBay?”

Daniel shrugged his shoulder to dislodge her. “Nothing here but a bunch of scrolls no one can read and some broken pottery. I can't see there being a big market for this outside the SGC."

“We spent all week digging up things we can't sell?”

"<i>I</i> spent all week digging up things we can't sell. <i>You</i> spent all week heating up MRE's.” Which wasn't entirely true because Vala, in her own irritating and persistent way, had helped. She'd been surprisingly careful handling Daniel's artifacts, and surprisingly methodical helping Sam collect and label soil samples. And those MRE's, the one's Vala had heated up, those she'd forced on Daniel and Sam, making them eat even when they didn't want to.

“I told you I could cook,” she whispered in his ear.

oo~~OO~~oo

What he remembers is that they never let him go anywhere alone. It was unsafe to venture too far into narrow tunnels that held unknown dangers. No matter how tempting the discovery, they kept him by their side, watching and waiting until it was safe to go farther.

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