Chapter Text
Colonel Jack O’Neill was nothing if not practical and predictable. He liked his beer cold, his clothes comfortable, and his ponds without fish. So, when he’d inherited his grandfather’s cabin it only made sense that he’d spend as much free time there as possible. And he did. When he had free time, which, quite frankly, wasn’t really as often as he’d like. Almost never, come to think of it.
But hell, this was his downtime, and he was damned well going to take it this time. Barring any little gray aliens beaming him up, or unscheduled off-world activations with a Tok’ra IDC, he was going to sit on his little dock, drink his cold bottle of brew, and he was going to fish. For no fish. Like he liked it.
“But doesn’t it get boring?”
He eyed his geeky best friend across the desk with a scowl. “Excuse me?”
“Just sitting there not actually catching anything,” Doctor Daniel Jackson explained, shoving a paper under yet more papers. “Seems to me that would be extremely… I don’t know. I just don’t see how it’s entertaining.”
“Daniel, there is absolutely nothing boring about fishing.”
“Except the part where you’re literally doing nothing because there’s no fish?” The archaeologist raised his eyebrows.
Jack waved his hand around. “Oh, that. Well, it’s about relaxing. Just sitting with a line in the water.”
“Daniel Jackson is correct,” Teal’c monotoned, standing at parade rest beside the colonel. “It is boring.”
“Don’t listen to him, Daniel. You’d love it. You could even sit reading a book if you wanted.”
“Wait,” Daniel said, and Jack thought he had him now. “I wouldn’t have to actually fish in the empty pond?”
“Nope.”
“And I could bring whatever books I wanted?”
“Yep.”
“And you wouldn’t care that I was reading? For work.”
Jack fiddled with the pen on the desk in front of him. “Daniel, you could read to your little heart’s content.”
There was a knock on the open door and Jack turned around. Chief Master Sergeant Walter Harriman was standing there with a hesitant smile.
“Nuh uh,” Jack replied, shaking his head.
“Sir?”
“Nope. Not today, Walter. Today I’m going fishing.”
“Okay, sir,” the man replied. “I was actually looking for Doctor Jackson, though. General Hammond received a call he’d like to discuss with you, Doctor.”
Jack spun back towards his friend, placing the pen back on his desk. “Well, sounds like you aren’t going fishing with me,” he stated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Maybe next time.” And with that he turned for the door again and slipped past Walter before the NCO could change his mind.
He headed to the one place he knew he could find his last great hope. Well, first great hope, if he were to be honest with himself, but he was as much a realist as he was practical and predictable. He’d saved her for last so he could make a fast exit if she turned him down. Again.
Leaning on the doorframe to Major Samantha Carter’s lab, he admired his second-in-command for a moment. She was fully engrossed in some project he couldn’t name, a little furrow between her eyebrows and a pen between her teeth. He watched as she tapped something into her laptop and then grabbed her pen, jotting something down on the paper in front of her, before scrunching up her nose in apparent disgust.
“Well, that can’t be right,” she muttered.
She still hadn’t noticed him, so he tapped on the door with a knuckle, smiling when she finally looked up and then stood, eyes wide. “Sir!”
“Easy, Carter,” he replied, stepping inside as she returned to her seat. “Just checking in on you before I head out.”
“Oh, right. You’re headed to your cabin?”
“Yep,” he replied, popping the “p” at the end. “You planning to step away from work during our downtime?”
“Ah, no, probably not, sir,” she said, shrugging. “Too much work to do.”
“Even the brightest stars burn out, Carter,” he told her, tilting his head. “I could make it an order, you know.”
She frowned. “You’d really do that, sir? It’s not even late, yet.”
He glanced down at his watch. She was right. It was barely after 1600 hours. Far too early for his second to ever consider leaving voluntarily. Not without an incentive.
“No, I won’t order you to go home, Carter,” he said, coming to stand in front of her desk and eyeing an object sitting to the side of her laptop. “But I was kinda hoping you’d go fishing with me this time.”
She grimaced for a brief moment before she schooled her features into an apologetic smile. “I don’t think I can, sir. So, so much to do.”
“Ah.” His chest ached. Even though he wasn’t surprised – he’d been trying to get her to join him at the cabin for years, after all – it still hurt. “Not even if you could bring your work with you?”
Her eyebrows went up. “I can’t take alien technology off base, sir.”
“Of course not,” he said, picking up the object he’d been looking at and rolling it around in his hand. “But you could bring your laptop. Make it a working vacation. You’ve got lots to do on there too, doncha?”
“Uh…”
“I might even be up for hitting up a museum on the way.”
“I don’t know, sir. I-”
“And there’s this little diner off ninety-one that serves the best pancakes you’ve ever had in your life.”
She placed her pen on her table and lowered her head, a small smile playing around her mouth. Then she looked up at him under her lashes and he smiled back, shrugging.
“Please?” he asked.
“When are you heading out, sir?”
“Whenever you say yes.” He dropped the little object back where he found it and placed both hands on her table, leaning down into her direct line of sight. “Carter, I’d really like to show you the place.”
“Okay,” she agreed softly, raising her head and meeting his eyes. “But I’m going to need to pack.”
“Yes!” he replied, standing back up straight and barely restraining himself from pumping a fist. “I’ll swing by to pick you up at your place tomorrow morning, bright and early. 0600, Carter.”
“Wow.”
“It’s a long drive.”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned to leave, then, stopping just inside the doorway and turning back to face her. “And Carter?”
“Sir?”
“Pack for a week.”