Fic: C is for Clothes, Which Make the Man
I forgot to post earlier that Gen Fic Day is being celebrated in the SG-1 fandom today. The festivities are (as always) being graciously hosted by sg_fignewton, Benevolent Dictatrix of the Realm of Ship-free Stargate.
In honor of the day, Fig is hosting another Alphabet Soup like the one we did on Sam a while ago. Today's focuses on Daniel. My own small contribution lies beneath the LJ cut.
C is for Clothes, Which Make the Man
"You know, I can't help noticing that while you guys saved a bunch of my books and artifacts, there's a suspicious lack of anything like clothes in any of these boxes." Daniel casts a sideways glance at Sam, who is filling his new refrigerator with milk and condiments while he unpacks the boxes from Jack's garage.
"Well, we didn't know you'd be coming back," Sam answers. "You died."
"Ascended."
She rolls her eyes. "You need gigantic checkered shirts when you're occupying higher planes of existence as pure energy?"
"I liked that shirt. It was a perfectly good shirt."
"Well, now it's a perfectly good car shammy."
Daniel can't help but laugh at the supreme satisfaction in Sam's voice. Even if he really did like that shirt. "Has my entire former wardrobe been appropriated for car-waxing purposes?"
"No, most of it was donated to a homeless shelter." She finishes with the fridge and comes over to open another box of books. "I kept the most enormous of the windbreakers for Teal'c. Don't worry, I brought over some things I picked up for you to wear, and tomorrow we're going shopping."
Daniel can't decide if he's more amused or frightened by the maniacal glee with which she says that last word.
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I would just like to state for the record that I have been trying for a week to write something Very Serious Indeed for keywords like "cunning" and "combat" and "complex." Absolutely no dice. Then this morning, I mentioned to Mr. Bill that I had my "Letter C" Daniel ficlet due today, and nothing good to turn in, and he said "C is for clothes!" and then snickered. And thus this fic was born.
ETA: And you get two silly little giggle-fics for the price of one, because the irrepressible jd3000 has just totally one-upped me in my own comments. Be sure to scroll down and read.
In honor of the day, Fig is hosting another Alphabet Soup like the one we did on Sam a while ago. Today's focuses on Daniel. My own small contribution lies beneath the LJ cut.
C is for Clothes, Which Make the Man
"You know, I can't help noticing that while you guys saved a bunch of my books and artifacts, there's a suspicious lack of anything like clothes in any of these boxes." Daniel casts a sideways glance at Sam, who is filling his new refrigerator with milk and condiments while he unpacks the boxes from Jack's garage.
"Well, we didn't know you'd be coming back," Sam answers. "You died."
"Ascended."
She rolls her eyes. "You need gigantic checkered shirts when you're occupying higher planes of existence as pure energy?"
"I liked that shirt. It was a perfectly good shirt."
"Well, now it's a perfectly good car shammy."
Daniel can't help but laugh at the supreme satisfaction in Sam's voice. Even if he really did like that shirt. "Has my entire former wardrobe been appropriated for car-waxing purposes?"
"No, most of it was donated to a homeless shelter." She finishes with the fridge and comes over to open another box of books. "I kept the most enormous of the windbreakers for Teal'c. Don't worry, I brought over some things I picked up for you to wear, and tomorrow we're going shopping."
Daniel can't decide if he's more amused or frightened by the maniacal glee with which she says that last word.
---------------------------------
I would just like to state for the record that I have been trying for a week to write something Very Serious Indeed for keywords like "cunning" and "combat" and "complex." Absolutely no dice. Then this morning, I mentioned to Mr. Bill that I had my "Letter C" Daniel ficlet due today, and nothing good to turn in, and he said "C is for clothes!" and then snickered. And thus this fic was born.
ETA: And you get two silly little giggle-fics for the price of one, because the irrepressible jd3000 has just totally one-upped me in my own comments. Be sure to scroll down and read.