Stargate -- "All Around My Hat"
slash_100, prompt 007: Days
big damn table
Also written for au100, prompt 007: Days
half-sized damn table
All around my hat,
I will wear the green willow
All around my hat,
For a twelvemonth and a day
And if anyone should ask me
The reason why I'm wearing it,
It's all for my true love,
Who is far, far away
All Around My Hat | Prompt 007: Days | G | 2000 words
The first time the wreath shows up on Jack’s desk is three days after Daniel...after that fool Jonas Quinn had showed up with his radioactive box of super naquada and his too bright smile, neither of which are enough to apologize for what he’d done and what he didn’t keep from happening. The wreath is made of a few green branches twisted around each other and tied into a circle, the leaves long, thin, perfect ovals, but Jack doesn’t recognize the plant itself. It sits in the center of his desk and he puts it to one side, picks up the reports underneath, and goes to do them in the commissary. It’s gone when he returns a few hours later, and he thinks nothing of it. Must have been sent to the wrong office or something.
The next day, he doesn’t even go to his office before they’re sent on their next mission.
***
The wreath shows up again a few days later, after the remains of SG-1 have gotten back from the mission to rescue Thor and his pet scientist. Successful on the latter, not so much on the former. Just like last time, Jack puts the wreath to the side to get to the papers beneath. He makes a mental note to figure out where they’re coming from on his way home that evening, but he doesn’t spare it much more thought.
He’s probably just missing his memos again.
***
It appears again the very next morning on Jack’s front porch, and he almost trips over it on his way out the door. It convinces him that they’ve been for him, but that only brings more questions. Who’s sending them, and why? And what are they made of, anyway? He picks up the wreath and takes it with him, dumping it on the passenger seat while he drives to the mountain and sneaking it into the complex under his coat. For some reason, he doesn’t want everyone to see it.
He heads to Carter’s office after he’s gotten into uniform to see what she thinks. (Actually, his feet carry him to Daniel’s office - it’ll never belong to Quinn - but he walks on past. He can’t go inside yet, even if he wanted to ask Quinn anything.) She’s got her head bent over a laptop when he walks into her lab and drops the wreath onto the desk. She starts at the sound, squints at the wreath with eyes that have been focused on a screen too long, and then squints up at Jack. “Sir, why is there a dead plant on my desk?” she asks.
“It’s a wreath,” he corrects. “I want to know what it’s made of.”
“Ask one of the biologists,” she says testily. She’s still unhappy with him for not letting her cry on his shoulder, but he has his reasons. She wants him to mourn, but he knows that will kill him, as surely as if he were to eat a bullet. And he doesn’t deserve that kind of out. He didn’t before, and he sure as hell doesn’t now.
“Come on, Carter, do me a favor,” Jack says, and she sighs.
“Is that an order, sir?”
“No,” Jack says, with something resembling his usual level of cheerfulness. “Just a favor for a friend.”
Carter nods and pokes at the wreath a bit. “Willow,” she says eventually. “Cut fresh, I would think, rather than dried, so it’s still green.”
“Thanks, Carter,” Jack says, taking the wreath back “See you in the briefing.” He takes it back to his office with him, leaving it there when he goes to his 1000 briefing. It’s gone when he gets back, and he has a mission that afternoon.
***
There’s a wreath on his kitchen table when he gets back from the mission two days later, and he looks around the sunlit room, almost expecting the person leaving them to jump out and yell “surprise!” They don’t, of course, but Jack feels like he as the right to be a little on edge. It was their first real mission since...their first real mission without...
The fourth Jack had selected just wasn’t cut out for field work, and Jack knows the pile of personnel files will be back on his desk when he gets in tomorrow. He might let Carter pick the next one. Maybe she’ll have more luck.
But the wreaths. It’s disconcerting that whoever it is can get into both his office and his house undetected. He can’t just ignore it anymore, but he doesn’t know how to proceed. It isn’t a feeling he likes very much at all.
***
“Perhaps you should consider their meaning, and then the source will become clear,” Teal’c says, splitting another grape from its stem and popping it into his mouth. It’s been three weeks since the wreaths moved into his kitchen, but they’ve been on missions at least once each week, so Jack could ignore them a bit longer. Replacement #2 lasted two missions, but couldn’t handle dealing with real, live people instead of the stuff they’d left behind. Jack had asked Teal’c to pick #3, and the wreaths had come up in the course of the conversation.
“That was more D-Daniel’s…thing,” Jack says, embarrassed and angry to have tripped over his name like that. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“I believe you know more than you assume, O’Neill,” Teal’c says, with that inscrutable not-quite-smile of his. “DanielJackson often spoke of your constant presence in his office. I am certain you must have...raised something.”
“Picked up, T,” Jack corrects, without even thinking. “It’s ‘picked up’.”
“As you say.”
“You might have a point, though,” Jack says, gathering his dishes onto his tray and standing up. “Thanks, T.”
“Indeed,” Teal’c says, inclining his head. He watches Jack go with a wide - for him - smile, but only shakes his head when Carter sits down and asks its cause.
***
Over the next two months, Jack does research when he can, but it doesn’t get him very far. Google only brings up funeral homes and stories of Japanese samurai and shops specializing in handmade furniture. Wikipedia gives him lots of technical, scientific crap, and so do the pile of plant guides Carter drops off in his office out of pity. He’s on the verge of giving up when Hammond sends them to Antarctica, and then the wreaths are the last thing on Jack’s mind.
***
He considers asking the Daniel hallucination about the wreaths, since Daniel always did know everything, but it’s so hard to concentrate that he usually forgets to ask until Daniel’s disappeared.
And he’s only talking to himself anyway, since Daniel’s a hallucination and all, so what’s the point?
***
Even Jack has to admit that he recovers from the sarcophagus addiction pretty damned quickly, but he knows not to question his luck. He’s a man on a mission, now: figure out what the wreathes mean and who’s sending them. There had been a vase of slender willow branches on the little table by his bed in the infirmary, though no one seemed to know how it had gotten there or who replaced the branches each day so they never wilted. Jack is desperate to know what’s going on.
Carter’s books and the internet were no help, so Jack finally gathers up the courage to go to D-Jonas’ office. He’s certain some of the books there will be able to help...if he can find any in English. He goes down there one afternoon just before he heads home and there’s Jonas, bent over some tablet. Jack’s breath catches in his throat and Jonas looks up. “Oh, Colonel O’Neill, can I help you?” he asks with that vapid grin.
“Nah, just looking for a…a book,” Jack says, stepping into the room. He fidgets, looking around the office. He hasn’t been down here since... “Something about the...cultural significance of willow,” he said, slightly proud of himself for getting the words right. Daniel would be proud…Oh God, Daniel.
Quinn jumps out of his chair and starts looking over the shelf behind him. “These might help,” he says finally, handing Jack a stack of books. “Actually, we have a tradition about the willow in Kelowna,” he adds thoughtfully as Jack settles the pile more securely in his arms. “Lovers will carry a sprig or wreath when they’re separated, to remember the other until they’re together again.”
The pieces slide together in Jack’s brain. “Thanks, Quinn...Jonas,” he says. He all but runs from the room to his office, ignoring the strange looks from the personnel he almost runs down. He puts the books down on the desk and boots up Google. A few modifications to the search he’s been running for weeks and there it is, in the form of an old ballad. Jack can’t help but smile.
The wreath is on his pillow when he gets home that night, and for the first in months he sleeps through the night, his dreams filled with loving blue eyes and wrapping a big, warm body up in his arms and never letting go.
***
New wreaths appear on the pillow next to his every morning, and he starts plucking off a sprig and carrying it with him throughout the day, even on missions. He just shakes his head at Carter when she asks about it, but he can see in Teal’c’s understandingly cocked eyebrow that the big guy understands. Quinn smiles even more brightly when he sees the sprig for the first time, but he doesn’t mention it.
***
Jack doesn’t say anything about it the next time he sees Daniel, either, in the elevator before that ill-fated mission against Anubis. But even so, Daniel glances at Jack’s pants pocket and smiles slightly before the elevator restarts, and Jack knows that no matter what happens, everything’s finally going to be alright.
***
Jack keeps careful count, and on day 366 he’s all smiles, whistling to himself as he heads down to the locker room to get ready for the day’s mission. It’s reassuring that they’re going to be off-world today. He doesn’t expect to find Daniel sitting on his couch or anything. He gets into uniform unhurriedly, since he’s running early. He’s not in the mood to sit around twiddling his thumbs today. Carter walks into the gear-up room as he takes a sprig of green from his locker and tucks it into one of his vest pockets, the top few leaves poking out like a corsage.
“Sir?” Carter asks. She’s gotten used to her CO carrying a sprig of willow with him on missions, but he usually tucks it deep into one of his pockets.
“A twelvemonth and a day,” Jack quotes at her as she fastens her own vest and bends to tie her boots. “I’m expecting good things today,” he says when she continues to look confused. T and Quinn walk in, and Jack waves to them as he and Carter leave the room. “So, where are we headed today?” he asks, and Carter throws him a glare that would freeze the blood in his veins, but he’s just in too good a mood.
“Vis Uban,” Carter says sharply. “The Lost City Jonas thinks he’s found.” Jack doesn’t even grimace anymore at the mention of Quinn’s name; if anything, he smiles slightly in thanks. “I’m reasonably certain you were at that briefing. Sir,” she added, almost as an afterthought.
“Probably,” Jack agrees as they walk into the ‘gate room, taking his pack from an SF and putting it on. He watches indulgently as the rest of his team and Reynold’s SG-3 put on their packs and take their weapons, and then the ‘gate engages and Hammond is wishing them Godspeed. Jack salutes up to the control room and follows the team through the ‘gate. “See you soon, Danny,” he whispers, then he closes his eyes and walks through the horizon. Soon, he thinks to himself as he looks around at the dirty sand and scrubby grass on the other side, soon.
Feedback is better than chocolate.
big damn table
Also written for au100, prompt 007: Days
half-sized damn table
All around my hat,
I will wear the green willow
All around my hat,
For a twelvemonth and a day
And if anyone should ask me
The reason why I'm wearing it,
It's all for my true love,
Who is far, far away
All Around My Hat | Prompt 007: Days | G | 2000 words
The first time the wreath shows up on Jack’s desk is three days after Daniel...after that fool Jonas Quinn had showed up with his radioactive box of super naquada and his too bright smile, neither of which are enough to apologize for what he’d done and what he didn’t keep from happening. The wreath is made of a few green branches twisted around each other and tied into a circle, the leaves long, thin, perfect ovals, but Jack doesn’t recognize the plant itself. It sits in the center of his desk and he puts it to one side, picks up the reports underneath, and goes to do them in the commissary. It’s gone when he returns a few hours later, and he thinks nothing of it. Must have been sent to the wrong office or something.
The next day, he doesn’t even go to his office before they’re sent on their next mission.
***
The wreath shows up again a few days later, after the remains of SG-1 have gotten back from the mission to rescue Thor and his pet scientist. Successful on the latter, not so much on the former. Just like last time, Jack puts the wreath to the side to get to the papers beneath. He makes a mental note to figure out where they’re coming from on his way home that evening, but he doesn’t spare it much more thought.
He’s probably just missing his memos again.
***
It appears again the very next morning on Jack’s front porch, and he almost trips over it on his way out the door. It convinces him that they’ve been for him, but that only brings more questions. Who’s sending them, and why? And what are they made of, anyway? He picks up the wreath and takes it with him, dumping it on the passenger seat while he drives to the mountain and sneaking it into the complex under his coat. For some reason, he doesn’t want everyone to see it.
He heads to Carter’s office after he’s gotten into uniform to see what she thinks. (Actually, his feet carry him to Daniel’s office - it’ll never belong to Quinn - but he walks on past. He can’t go inside yet, even if he wanted to ask Quinn anything.) She’s got her head bent over a laptop when he walks into her lab and drops the wreath onto the desk. She starts at the sound, squints at the wreath with eyes that have been focused on a screen too long, and then squints up at Jack. “Sir, why is there a dead plant on my desk?” she asks.
“It’s a wreath,” he corrects. “I want to know what it’s made of.”
“Ask one of the biologists,” she says testily. She’s still unhappy with him for not letting her cry on his shoulder, but he has his reasons. She wants him to mourn, but he knows that will kill him, as surely as if he were to eat a bullet. And he doesn’t deserve that kind of out. He didn’t before, and he sure as hell doesn’t now.
“Come on, Carter, do me a favor,” Jack says, and she sighs.
“Is that an order, sir?”
“No,” Jack says, with something resembling his usual level of cheerfulness. “Just a favor for a friend.”
Carter nods and pokes at the wreath a bit. “Willow,” she says eventually. “Cut fresh, I would think, rather than dried, so it’s still green.”
“Thanks, Carter,” Jack says, taking the wreath back “See you in the briefing.” He takes it back to his office with him, leaving it there when he goes to his 1000 briefing. It’s gone when he gets back, and he has a mission that afternoon.
***
There’s a wreath on his kitchen table when he gets back from the mission two days later, and he looks around the sunlit room, almost expecting the person leaving them to jump out and yell “surprise!” They don’t, of course, but Jack feels like he as the right to be a little on edge. It was their first real mission since...their first real mission without...
The fourth Jack had selected just wasn’t cut out for field work, and Jack knows the pile of personnel files will be back on his desk when he gets in tomorrow. He might let Carter pick the next one. Maybe she’ll have more luck.
But the wreaths. It’s disconcerting that whoever it is can get into both his office and his house undetected. He can’t just ignore it anymore, but he doesn’t know how to proceed. It isn’t a feeling he likes very much at all.
***
“Perhaps you should consider their meaning, and then the source will become clear,” Teal’c says, splitting another grape from its stem and popping it into his mouth. It’s been three weeks since the wreaths moved into his kitchen, but they’ve been on missions at least once each week, so Jack could ignore them a bit longer. Replacement #2 lasted two missions, but couldn’t handle dealing with real, live people instead of the stuff they’d left behind. Jack had asked Teal’c to pick #3, and the wreaths had come up in the course of the conversation.
“That was more D-Daniel’s…thing,” Jack says, embarrassed and angry to have tripped over his name like that. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“I believe you know more than you assume, O’Neill,” Teal’c says, with that inscrutable not-quite-smile of his. “DanielJackson often spoke of your constant presence in his office. I am certain you must have...raised something.”
“Picked up, T,” Jack corrects, without even thinking. “It’s ‘picked up’.”
“As you say.”
“You might have a point, though,” Jack says, gathering his dishes onto his tray and standing up. “Thanks, T.”
“Indeed,” Teal’c says, inclining his head. He watches Jack go with a wide - for him - smile, but only shakes his head when Carter sits down and asks its cause.
***
Over the next two months, Jack does research when he can, but it doesn’t get him very far. Google only brings up funeral homes and stories of Japanese samurai and shops specializing in handmade furniture. Wikipedia gives him lots of technical, scientific crap, and so do the pile of plant guides Carter drops off in his office out of pity. He’s on the verge of giving up when Hammond sends them to Antarctica, and then the wreaths are the last thing on Jack’s mind.
***
He considers asking the Daniel hallucination about the wreaths, since Daniel always did know everything, but it’s so hard to concentrate that he usually forgets to ask until Daniel’s disappeared.
And he’s only talking to himself anyway, since Daniel’s a hallucination and all, so what’s the point?
***
Even Jack has to admit that he recovers from the sarcophagus addiction pretty damned quickly, but he knows not to question his luck. He’s a man on a mission, now: figure out what the wreathes mean and who’s sending them. There had been a vase of slender willow branches on the little table by his bed in the infirmary, though no one seemed to know how it had gotten there or who replaced the branches each day so they never wilted. Jack is desperate to know what’s going on.
Carter’s books and the internet were no help, so Jack finally gathers up the courage to go to D-Jonas’ office. He’s certain some of the books there will be able to help...if he can find any in English. He goes down there one afternoon just before he heads home and there’s Jonas, bent over some tablet. Jack’s breath catches in his throat and Jonas looks up. “Oh, Colonel O’Neill, can I help you?” he asks with that vapid grin.
“Nah, just looking for a…a book,” Jack says, stepping into the room. He fidgets, looking around the office. He hasn’t been down here since... “Something about the...cultural significance of willow,” he said, slightly proud of himself for getting the words right. Daniel would be proud…Oh God, Daniel.
Quinn jumps out of his chair and starts looking over the shelf behind him. “These might help,” he says finally, handing Jack a stack of books. “Actually, we have a tradition about the willow in Kelowna,” he adds thoughtfully as Jack settles the pile more securely in his arms. “Lovers will carry a sprig or wreath when they’re separated, to remember the other until they’re together again.”
The pieces slide together in Jack’s brain. “Thanks, Quinn...Jonas,” he says. He all but runs from the room to his office, ignoring the strange looks from the personnel he almost runs down. He puts the books down on the desk and boots up Google. A few modifications to the search he’s been running for weeks and there it is, in the form of an old ballad. Jack can’t help but smile.
The wreath is on his pillow when he gets home that night, and for the first in months he sleeps through the night, his dreams filled with loving blue eyes and wrapping a big, warm body up in his arms and never letting go.
***
New wreaths appear on the pillow next to his every morning, and he starts plucking off a sprig and carrying it with him throughout the day, even on missions. He just shakes his head at Carter when she asks about it, but he can see in Teal’c’s understandingly cocked eyebrow that the big guy understands. Quinn smiles even more brightly when he sees the sprig for the first time, but he doesn’t mention it.
***
Jack doesn’t say anything about it the next time he sees Daniel, either, in the elevator before that ill-fated mission against Anubis. But even so, Daniel glances at Jack’s pants pocket and smiles slightly before the elevator restarts, and Jack knows that no matter what happens, everything’s finally going to be alright.
***
Jack keeps careful count, and on day 366 he’s all smiles, whistling to himself as he heads down to the locker room to get ready for the day’s mission. It’s reassuring that they’re going to be off-world today. He doesn’t expect to find Daniel sitting on his couch or anything. He gets into uniform unhurriedly, since he’s running early. He’s not in the mood to sit around twiddling his thumbs today. Carter walks into the gear-up room as he takes a sprig of green from his locker and tucks it into one of his vest pockets, the top few leaves poking out like a corsage.
“Sir?” Carter asks. She’s gotten used to her CO carrying a sprig of willow with him on missions, but he usually tucks it deep into one of his pockets.
“A twelvemonth and a day,” Jack quotes at her as she fastens her own vest and bends to tie her boots. “I’m expecting good things today,” he says when she continues to look confused. T and Quinn walk in, and Jack waves to them as he and Carter leave the room. “So, where are we headed today?” he asks, and Carter throws him a glare that would freeze the blood in his veins, but he’s just in too good a mood.
“Vis Uban,” Carter says sharply. “The Lost City Jonas thinks he’s found.” Jack doesn’t even grimace anymore at the mention of Quinn’s name; if anything, he smiles slightly in thanks. “I’m reasonably certain you were at that briefing. Sir,” she added, almost as an afterthought.
“Probably,” Jack agrees as they walk into the ‘gate room, taking his pack from an SF and putting it on. He watches indulgently as the rest of his team and Reynold’s SG-3 put on their packs and take their weapons, and then the ‘gate engages and Hammond is wishing them Godspeed. Jack salutes up to the control room and follows the team through the ‘gate. “See you soon, Danny,” he whispers, then he closes his eyes and walks through the horizon. Soon, he thinks to himself as he looks around at the dirty sand and scrubby grass on the other side, soon.
Feedback is better than chocolate.