Just a little team miscommunication courtesy or Jack’s twisted sense of humor.
190 words | rating: G
“Remember me when I’m gone,” Jack said, appearing at the door of Sam’s lab. Sam and Daniel looked up from the plan they were working on.
“Why?” asked Daniel. “What’s wrong?
“Are you sick, sir?”
Jack sat heavily on one of the stools. He didn’t even spin. “Yes, sick.”
“Oh, god. What is it? Cancer? Poisoning? What was that alien thing SG-9 caught last week-”
Sam interrupted him. “Sir, is it serious?”
Daniel looked panicked. “What can we do, Jack? Is there a treatment?”
Jack sighed. “Unfortunately, no.”
“No,” Daniel yelled, “this isn’t right. You can’t die. We’ll talk to the Tok’ra. They owe us.”
“Who said anything about dying?”
Sam and Daniel exchanged looks. “You did,” they said at the same time
“No, I didn’t. I said to remember me when I’m gone. Hammond just told me I’m being sent to Washington for the week. This is serious business. There’s no treatment for boredom by politician.”
Sam rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Sir-”
Jack just smiled.
“Sometimes I hate you,” said Daniel.
“Well, my work here is done,” Jack said with a clap. “See you next week.”