Stargate SG-1 fic. You may shoot me on sight.
So help me, it's SG-1 fic. Short, stupid, and silly, and it's probably been written by *someone* out there already.
Bills, Bills, Bills
Stargate SG-1 fic. Gen, no warnings, supposedly humor.
Something that kept Jack vaguely amused was that the paychecks of Stargate Command were paid out of the United States Air Force. This was not particularly surprising as the program had been under this particular branch's wing since its founding, but every so often he found himself wondering how Daniel Jackson's paperwork looked. Surely the Air Force was not regularly in the habit of employing linguists who, incidentally, tended to get airsick.
In any case, Jack recieved a regular paycheck on the second of every month, sum totalling about 96 thousand dollars per year. This was all well and good; Jack hardly paid attention to it, frankly. About 80 percent of his time, he estimated, was spent off-world fighting things he wouldn't dreamed of when he'd enlisted. 15 percent of his time was spent in briefings, and the other five percent was divided between watching TV on his couch and fishing. And god was his money ever wasted on cable television. 200 channels and nothing to watch, that was for damn sure. It was just that he kept forgetting to cancel while he was on earth. Seemed like he was always remembering things like that while walking 3 miles from the 'gate to the nearest village, or something like that. And hell, he wasn't doing anything with those 96,000 dollars per year anyway. Might as well waste a small chunk on cable TV for the occasional game he caught on ESPN.
Then, on March 2nd, while Jack was remembering that he really had to get started on those taxes because the IRS was not going to accept the old 'I filed late because I was fighting goa'uld on PSX355' excuse again, he opened his paycheck and found a big fat zero in the 'tendered' section.
Well. Time to call Hammond.
* * *
As it turned out he got to talk to the General the next day, along with the rest of SG-1 who, as it turned out, was suffering from the same basic problem of having no paycheck for the month. General Hammond walked into the briefing room, raised his eyebrows at the three affronted looks he got (Teal'c, as always, seemed unruffled. Jack was actually still trying to figure out what the general deal was with his citizenship anyway. Daniel was of the opinion he'd been granted political amnesty. Of course, Daniel had also been the one to explain taxes to the Jaffa. Jack had been glad to leave the task to the linguist). "I'm sorry to have given you all an unpleasant shock, but the news was delivered to me yesterday," Hammond grunted, handing out manila folders. "Here's the explanation."
Jack opened his and found - a bill. A sizable one. One that he did not fancy having to pay all at once. "What's this for?" he asked, squinting at the little numbers (he did not need glasses, thankyouverymuch. The time was coming, but it was not now).
"Well, the Air Force was taking a look at its budget, and it came to the conclusion that SG-1 is rather ... expensive," Hammond grunted. "So this is a bill. For lost field glasses, BDUs, a couple of FREDs, god only knows how many M-16s and Glock handguns, knives--"
"Okay, okay, we get the point," Jack sighed, rubbing the brige of his nose. "There has got to be a better way of paying this off than giving up our income for six months."
Hammond flashed him a tight smile. "I'm sure we can arrange something," he agreed, seeming almost amused. Well, that was all well and good for him, now, wasn't it? He wasn't the one paying for his own equipment.
Daniel chose that moment to lean over and mutter, "Given how often we get ourselves disarmed off-world, I think this was only a matter of time."
"Shut up, Doctor," Jack groaned.
He'd call and cancel his cable tomorrow.
fin
Maybe SG-1 gets better at hanging onto their weapons after season 3, but god, they do seem to be disarmed plenty often enough. XD;;
Bills, Bills, Bills
Stargate SG-1 fic. Gen, no warnings, supposedly humor.
Something that kept Jack vaguely amused was that the paychecks of Stargate Command were paid out of the United States Air Force. This was not particularly surprising as the program had been under this particular branch's wing since its founding, but every so often he found himself wondering how Daniel Jackson's paperwork looked. Surely the Air Force was not regularly in the habit of employing linguists who, incidentally, tended to get airsick.
In any case, Jack recieved a regular paycheck on the second of every month, sum totalling about 96 thousand dollars per year. This was all well and good; Jack hardly paid attention to it, frankly. About 80 percent of his time, he estimated, was spent off-world fighting things he wouldn't dreamed of when he'd enlisted. 15 percent of his time was spent in briefings, and the other five percent was divided between watching TV on his couch and fishing. And god was his money ever wasted on cable television. 200 channels and nothing to watch, that was for damn sure. It was just that he kept forgetting to cancel while he was on earth. Seemed like he was always remembering things like that while walking 3 miles from the 'gate to the nearest village, or something like that. And hell, he wasn't doing anything with those 96,000 dollars per year anyway. Might as well waste a small chunk on cable TV for the occasional game he caught on ESPN.
Then, on March 2nd, while Jack was remembering that he really had to get started on those taxes because the IRS was not going to accept the old 'I filed late because I was fighting goa'uld on PSX355' excuse again, he opened his paycheck and found a big fat zero in the 'tendered' section.
Well. Time to call Hammond.
* * *
As it turned out he got to talk to the General the next day, along with the rest of SG-1 who, as it turned out, was suffering from the same basic problem of having no paycheck for the month. General Hammond walked into the briefing room, raised his eyebrows at the three affronted looks he got (Teal'c, as always, seemed unruffled. Jack was actually still trying to figure out what the general deal was with his citizenship anyway. Daniel was of the opinion he'd been granted political amnesty. Of course, Daniel had also been the one to explain taxes to the Jaffa. Jack had been glad to leave the task to the linguist). "I'm sorry to have given you all an unpleasant shock, but the news was delivered to me yesterday," Hammond grunted, handing out manila folders. "Here's the explanation."
Jack opened his and found - a bill. A sizable one. One that he did not fancy having to pay all at once. "What's this for?" he asked, squinting at the little numbers (he did not need glasses, thankyouverymuch. The time was coming, but it was not now).
"Well, the Air Force was taking a look at its budget, and it came to the conclusion that SG-1 is rather ... expensive," Hammond grunted. "So this is a bill. For lost field glasses, BDUs, a couple of FREDs, god only knows how many M-16s and Glock handguns, knives--"
"Okay, okay, we get the point," Jack sighed, rubbing the brige of his nose. "There has got to be a better way of paying this off than giving up our income for six months."
Hammond flashed him a tight smile. "I'm sure we can arrange something," he agreed, seeming almost amused. Well, that was all well and good for him, now, wasn't it? He wasn't the one paying for his own equipment.
Daniel chose that moment to lean over and mutter, "Given how often we get ourselves disarmed off-world, I think this was only a matter of time."
"Shut up, Doctor," Jack groaned.
He'd call and cancel his cable tomorrow.
fin
Maybe SG-1 gets better at hanging onto their weapons after season 3, but god, they do seem to be disarmed plenty often enough. XD;;