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Fic - SG-1 - Thank You for Your Patronage!
Title: Thank You for Your Patronage!
Rating: G. So very G.
Characters: Sam and Daniel, Gen
Spoilers: "Holiday"
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
Summary/Note: Sooner or later, Daniel will run out of places to eat in Colorado Springs. A post-"Holiday" fic to answer one of the episode's less burning but more amusing questions, written in response to an anonymeme request.
Contrary to popular belief, Sam Carter did not spend the entirety of her down time at the SGC holed up in her lab. She had to eat, for one, and there were meetings and projects to check up on elsewhere. Plus, there was only so much staring at screens full of code anyone's eyes could take, or so said the nagging voice in her head that sounded like her father. She hadn't been in the program long before discovering the route through the SGC's halls, beginning and ending at her lab door, that would take her exactly twenty minutes to walk at a comfortable pace. With all of those distractions, Sam felt there was absolutely no basis for the Colonel's protestations that she worked too much.
She was reaffirming that resolution one day on level eighteen when a strangled cry interrupted her musing. Sam was less surprised than she might have once been that it came from Daniel's open office door. She dashed inside to find the archaeologist sitting at his desk, perfectly whole and healthy except for the bug-eyed stare directed at the creased sheet of paper he held in front of him.
"Daniel?" she ventured, coming over to the desk. It was strewn with the usual books and photocopies, along with a pile of half-opened mail. She remembered he'd planned to interrupt his own marathon work session with a quick trip home this morning to check on his fish and get a change of clothes. And the Colonel called her a workaholic.
Daniel stared at the paper a few moments longer before finally blinking and looking up. "Huh? What's up, Sam?"
"That's what I wanted to ask you," she said. "I heard you from the hall."
"Oh, yeah." He gave a frustrated sigh. "Sorry. It's nothing important, just my, uh...credit card bill."
She couldn't hold back a short laugh. "Hit the mall a little too hard this month, Daniel?"
He glared at her. "Funny. No, it's from the day I spent as a dying old man while Ma'chello ran around with my face and wallet."
"Uh oh. Shopaholic?"
"More like a bizarrely big eater. He managed to spend three hundred dollars at a place called Trudy's Diner."
Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Holy Hannah. I've been to that chain, he would've had to have eaten...well, several times more than I've ever seen you pack away. Didn't you feel sick when you got switched back?"
He shook his head. "No, I felt fine. Could the transfer have altered my metabolism?"
"I don't see how. Everyone was subjected to the problems and conditions of the bodies they inhabited. The Colonel had to deal with Teal'c's symbiote, Teal'c had to deal with the Colonel's hair..."
Daniel snickered. "I'm sorry I missed that one."
Sam sobered. "You were a little busy at the time."
He reached across the desk and squeezed her wrist gently. "All's well that ends well, right? Except for this bill." He gave it a rueful look and tossed it on the table top. "Maybe they made a decimal error?"
"Maybe. The police did report he was behaving oddly, so he could've just overpaid without knowing. Or maybe someone took advantage of his naivete." She shrugged as Daniel winced, clearly uncomfortable with that assumption. "Okay, fine, maybe he used your pretty face to make a lot of friends and treated them all to lunch."
Daniel froze. "Maybe he treated the entire restaurant to lunch."
They stared at one another in alarm.
Daniel snatched the phone receiver and dialed out to the diner. "Yes, hi, my name is Daniel Jackson. This is going to sound odd, but I need to speak to someone who was working on the day I came in two weeks ago." He gave the date and time listed on the bill and waited. "Hi, you probably don't remember me...Oh, you do...Did I?...That's very interesting. Thank you, you've been very helpful." He nodded at Sam in confirmation, then nearly dropped the phone as his eyes widened again. "Ah, that, uh, won't be necessary," he stammered. "Goodbye." It took him three tries to replace the receiver.
Sam tilted her head.
"I got the same hostess that was there two weeks ago. Apparently, 'I' declared that I was celebrating life, and I wanted everyone to, and she quoted, 'feast on me.'" He sighed.
"That's all she said?" Sam teased.
He sighed again and mumbled, "And she said if I came back and did it again, she might let me hit on her. Again."
Sam felt that Daniel was very patient in allowing her thirty seconds of uninterrupted laughter. She finally controlled herself enough to say, "Well, he certainly wasn't shy about asking for what he wanted."
"Good for him. Do you think I could get the SGC to comp me for the charge?"
She shrugged. "Sure, it was a work-related expense. Care and feeding of alien visitors."
"And their new friends."
She grinned. "Bet you'll never go back to that place, huh?"
"Not enough money in the world, Sam."
She pushed off from the desk. "I should get back to work. Do you want to grab dinner tonight?"
Daniel looked up from stuffing the offending bill back into its envelope. "Sure, but let's make it Chinese or something. I have a sudden aversion to burgers and fries."
"Sounds good." She turned to leave.
Sam later told herself that spotting the wry grin he tried to hide with paper shuffling business was the only reason she added, "And since the Air Force is paying your credit card bill this month, we'll feast on you."
If she was going to leave the base, it might as well be on someone else's dollar.
Rating: G. So very G.
Characters: Sam and Daniel, Gen
Spoilers: "Holiday"
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
Summary/Note: Sooner or later, Daniel will run out of places to eat in Colorado Springs. A post-"Holiday" fic to answer one of the episode's less burning but more amusing questions, written in response to an anonymeme request.
Contrary to popular belief, Sam Carter did not spend the entirety of her down time at the SGC holed up in her lab. She had to eat, for one, and there were meetings and projects to check up on elsewhere. Plus, there was only so much staring at screens full of code anyone's eyes could take, or so said the nagging voice in her head that sounded like her father. She hadn't been in the program long before discovering the route through the SGC's halls, beginning and ending at her lab door, that would take her exactly twenty minutes to walk at a comfortable pace. With all of those distractions, Sam felt there was absolutely no basis for the Colonel's protestations that she worked too much.
She was reaffirming that resolution one day on level eighteen when a strangled cry interrupted her musing. Sam was less surprised than she might have once been that it came from Daniel's open office door. She dashed inside to find the archaeologist sitting at his desk, perfectly whole and healthy except for the bug-eyed stare directed at the creased sheet of paper he held in front of him.
"Daniel?" she ventured, coming over to the desk. It was strewn with the usual books and photocopies, along with a pile of half-opened mail. She remembered he'd planned to interrupt his own marathon work session with a quick trip home this morning to check on his fish and get a change of clothes. And the Colonel called her a workaholic.
Daniel stared at the paper a few moments longer before finally blinking and looking up. "Huh? What's up, Sam?"
"That's what I wanted to ask you," she said. "I heard you from the hall."
"Oh, yeah." He gave a frustrated sigh. "Sorry. It's nothing important, just my, uh...credit card bill."
She couldn't hold back a short laugh. "Hit the mall a little too hard this month, Daniel?"
He glared at her. "Funny. No, it's from the day I spent as a dying old man while Ma'chello ran around with my face and wallet."
"Uh oh. Shopaholic?"
"More like a bizarrely big eater. He managed to spend three hundred dollars at a place called Trudy's Diner."
Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Holy Hannah. I've been to that chain, he would've had to have eaten...well, several times more than I've ever seen you pack away. Didn't you feel sick when you got switched back?"
He shook his head. "No, I felt fine. Could the transfer have altered my metabolism?"
"I don't see how. Everyone was subjected to the problems and conditions of the bodies they inhabited. The Colonel had to deal with Teal'c's symbiote, Teal'c had to deal with the Colonel's hair..."
Daniel snickered. "I'm sorry I missed that one."
Sam sobered. "You were a little busy at the time."
He reached across the desk and squeezed her wrist gently. "All's well that ends well, right? Except for this bill." He gave it a rueful look and tossed it on the table top. "Maybe they made a decimal error?"
"Maybe. The police did report he was behaving oddly, so he could've just overpaid without knowing. Or maybe someone took advantage of his naivete." She shrugged as Daniel winced, clearly uncomfortable with that assumption. "Okay, fine, maybe he used your pretty face to make a lot of friends and treated them all to lunch."
Daniel froze. "Maybe he treated the entire restaurant to lunch."
They stared at one another in alarm.
Daniel snatched the phone receiver and dialed out to the diner. "Yes, hi, my name is Daniel Jackson. This is going to sound odd, but I need to speak to someone who was working on the day I came in two weeks ago." He gave the date and time listed on the bill and waited. "Hi, you probably don't remember me...Oh, you do...Did I?...That's very interesting. Thank you, you've been very helpful." He nodded at Sam in confirmation, then nearly dropped the phone as his eyes widened again. "Ah, that, uh, won't be necessary," he stammered. "Goodbye." It took him three tries to replace the receiver.
Sam tilted her head.
"I got the same hostess that was there two weeks ago. Apparently, 'I' declared that I was celebrating life, and I wanted everyone to, and she quoted, 'feast on me.'" He sighed.
"That's all she said?" Sam teased.
He sighed again and mumbled, "And she said if I came back and did it again, she might let me hit on her. Again."
Sam felt that Daniel was very patient in allowing her thirty seconds of uninterrupted laughter. She finally controlled herself enough to say, "Well, he certainly wasn't shy about asking for what he wanted."
"Good for him. Do you think I could get the SGC to comp me for the charge?"
She shrugged. "Sure, it was a work-related expense. Care and feeding of alien visitors."
"And their new friends."
She grinned. "Bet you'll never go back to that place, huh?"
"Not enough money in the world, Sam."
She pushed off from the desk. "I should get back to work. Do you want to grab dinner tonight?"
Daniel looked up from stuffing the offending bill back into its envelope. "Sure, but let's make it Chinese or something. I have a sudden aversion to burgers and fries."
"Sounds good." She turned to leave.
Sam later told herself that spotting the wry grin he tried to hide with paper shuffling business was the only reason she added, "And since the Air Force is paying your credit card bill this month, we'll feast on you."
If she was going to leave the base, it might as well be on someone else's dollar.