Smaller Victories
Part Three
(Daniel's POV)
Of all the mysteries that surround me daily, Jack has to be the most complex.
The debacle on PX-928 yesterday was no surprise, nothing new. Jack
not listening to a word that I have to say is typical in the extreme.
I'll admit that, for a moment, I honestly thought he expected me to... with
the alien creature....
But I really should have known better. For someone as fiercely mothering
as Jack it was out of the question.
He's the only reason Paul hasn't asked me out to that new Italian in town
I know he's dying to take me to. Although... I am kinda thankful.
I like Paul, he's a great guy with a healthy outlook on life and solid morals.
For the military. But while I'd love to spend time with him as a friend,
I know that Jack's mother-hen-someone-wants-to-get-into-Daniel-Jackson's-pants
radar is bang on this time.
Unlike most of the humans and aliens he scares off because he's convinced
they're only interested in my body and couldn't possibly want to just talk
to me, Paul's definitely after more than good conversation.
Not that I mightn't get desperate some day soon and accept. I'm a
hot blooded male, for Christ's sake! Jack may get his kicks from blowing
things up but I need more intimate forms of release.
If I wait for Jack to ask we're in real danger of being dead by the time
he plucks up the courage.
I've had my suspicions regarding his intentions toward me for some time.
But after the replicator incident aboard The Blackbird he's been in full predator
mode.
He just needs to move that along into courtship sometime very soon because
I'm running out of resources here!
When he came to apologise for the hundredth time for not listening to me
and unwittingly suggesting I have sex with an alien, I laid it on so think
he had to crawl through it.
I did the big eyes magnified behind the glasses. I did the pouty lips.
I even ruffled my own hair a couple of times, under the pretext of nervously
setting my glasses straight.
This is not easy!
When he didn't seem to be shifting away from apology and closer to asking
me out I played my trump card.
I walked over to the cabinet at the back of my office and retrieved a fresh
bag of Colombian coffee. From the very bottom shelf. A couple
of inches from floor level. Right at the back.
Am I mean?
I even threw in a wiggle just for good measure.
When I straightened, Jack looked flushed and flustered. He muttered
something about an interdepartmental memo - probably the longest word he could
manage at that moment. Memo. And then he vanished.
There's something very satisfying about uttering a long string of bright,
base words in a very loud voice while throwing an expensive wireless mouse
wall to wall across the office. Carefully of course. Wouldn't
want to break anything valuable.
Only when I'd calmed down and made myself a pint of coffee in the mug Sam
bought me for Christmas did I bother to pick up the pieces.
I spent the rest of the day filling in a requisition form for a new mouse.
~ ~ ~
part four