Title: Explicit Orders (Part 1 of 2. Or maybe Part 1 of 3, I haven't decided yet.)
Rating: K. (No actual explicit content, don't worry!)
Pairing: Underlying Sam/Jack in future part(s)
Category: Humour. Not designed to be laugh-out-loud, just mildly amusing.
Feedback: If you read this and enjoy, please review! If you read this and don't like it, tell me – but nicely, please :)
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine (belonging to Gekko Corp. and such) and the obsession with team night is totally made up. I love my imagination.
"Cancel team night? Are you nuts?"
The three other members of Jack O'Neill's team exchanged nervous glances. It had been Sam who had hazarded the suggestion. In truth, Daniel acknowledged with a pang of guilt, he'd persuaded her to do it, pleaded with her to do it. Offered jello. Lots of jello.
The Air Force officer he knew so well now stood to attention before her CO, hands clasped tightly behind her back. Even Teal'c, who was rarely one to show unease, shifted slightly to reaffirm his stance. As Jack's glare burned into each of them in turn, Daniel was suddenly very glad he hadn't come to break the news alone.
Telling Colonel Jack O'Neill that none of them could make team night really was nuts.
"The thing is, Jack," Daniel began courageously. He faltered as soon as Jack's gaze snapped back to him. "The thing… the thing is…"
"Well?" O'Neill's eyebrows were raised so high it was threatening.
"Well, sir," Sam tried, "what I think Daniel is trying to say is…"
She trailed off, looking to the archaeologist for help. He offered: "We're all busy."
"Yes. Busy." Sam raised her chin as Jack glared at her. "Sir."
"Busy doing what, exactly?"
"Work, sir."
"Work?"
"Yes, Jack, work is when you actually…" He stopped himself. Bad move, Daniel. Very, very bad move.
Jack swore at him, coarsely, maliciously and very loudly. Suddenly the commissary was silent around them. A spoon clinked on a saucer. Jack span on his heel towards the offensive sound and an enormous marine made an amusing dash for the door. Sam couldn't resist the faintest of smile at the spectacle. She should have known better: some colonels in the US Air Force could smell smirks, and Jack O'Neill was that kind of Colonel.
Uh–oh.
She wasn't sure how long the next torrent of profanities took, only that it might possibly have broken a world record. They had come here to the commissary in the hope that a public setting might deter Jack's wrath. Unfortunately, their audience had produced no such effect and one of the new recruits sitting directly behind O'Neill looked as though he was about to burst into tears.
"Colonel, if I may…" Sam began cautiously after he had finally run out of expletives. She tensed, anticipating another outburst; instead he gave a grunt, permission for her to continue. She hesitated, but his swift, slicing glance prompted her to resume her explanation. "It's not that we don't want team night to go ahead, we do…" – Daniel was nodding his head in fervent agreement – "it's just that, well …we have orders… sir."
"And a mission," Daniel added quickly, before Jack could respond, "tomorrow. And we have, er, orders. Well, actually, Sam and Teal'c have orders, I have …stuff… to do. And I just thought, well, as neither Sam nor Teal'c can make it tonight, I should take the opportunity to finish off those translations SG-12 are waiting for…"
He trailed off, rather belatedly. Jack was staring at him intently; Daniel swallowed. When Jack spoke, his voice was dangerously low.
"Did we, or did we not, have a specific briefing about team nights before a mission? Did we, or did we not, reach a decision? Did I, or did I not, make my opinions clear?"
Daniel glanced at Sam, wondering if that was supposed to be rhetorical or whether they were actually expected to answer. Teal'c had no such reservations and spoke for the first time in the whole debate. How he always managed to get away with being the silent one was entirely unfair, Daniel decided. Still, he felt a lot safer knowing the Jaffa was there to hide behind in case of emergency.
"You were quite adamant on the matter, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "I believe you laid down a number of domestic decrees–"
"House rules," Daniel interjected.
"–explicitly outlining the decisions you had made."
Explicitly was right, Sam thought, with irony.
"Yes I did, Teal'c," Jack replied. His voice was remarkably calm but had not yet lost its razor edge. Around them, the commissary was beginning to recover its hum of conversation. "And do any of you remember the standing orders I gave regarding team night?" His gaze shifted expectantly to his second-in-command and she rattled them off hastily:
"One: team nights are exclusively for the relaxation and recreation of members of SG-1. Any guest or visitor will only be admitted by consensus of all team members, or alternatively, by order of Colonel O'Neill.
"Two: team nights are to take place on the first available date after downtime has been announced. If downtime is not announced, but more than two members of the team are present on-base, team night will take place at the first opportunity."
"Three: Carter will not work during team nights." Jack always took it upon himself to recite the third point.
"Four," Sam continued, as if she hadn't detected the sardonic glee in her superior's tone, "team nights directly preceding a mission are always to take place in a neutral location. Five: team nights directly preceding a mission are always to take place. Six: team nights will always involve cake. Seven…"
"There."
Daniel, who had almost as much trouble paying attention to regulations as Jack did to science, said, "Sorry?"
"Points four and five of the Team Night Code!" Jack barked, making the poor airman behind him jump again. "Carter." She repeated them. He nodded imperiously.
"Oh. I thought you said point four twice by accident," Daniel replied apologetically to Sam.
"No, Daniel," Jack answered for her. "Point four is about location. Point five is about the issue we are currently discussing."
"You know, I never understood point four…"
"Daniel, we went through this! Right after those missions to P8X–442 and P3R–290."
They shuddered in unison – with the exception of Teal'c, who just said, "Those were indeed unfortunate encounters."
"Yes," Jack agreed grimly, "they were. Which is why I felt it necessary to instigate the Team Night Code." When Daniel continued to look bewildered, Jack sighed loudly. "Carter! Explain to him why I felt it necessary to instigate the Code."
Sam opened her mouth but lacked a response. Not wanting to provoke another outburst from her commander, she took a guess: "Superstition, Colonel?"
"A bit of a strong word, Carter, but it'll do," Jack conceded. "I like to call it taking precautions."
"I still don't understand," Daniel replied.
"Nor do I, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "What relevance has team night to our mission preparations?"
Jack rolled his eyes. "Does no-one ever listen?"
Sam thought it wise not to point out that General Hammond had reprimanded the Colonel only hours before in their briefing for not paying attention. Fortunately, Daniel had enough sense not to mention it either; Teal'c just gazed knowledgeably into mid-distance.
Making another show of rolling his eyes, Jack sighed. "Carter?"
Sam gritted her teeth. This was wholly unfair. It was true, though, that she was probably the only other member of the team that understood the ritual and superstition that military personnel could assign to dangerous operations. Do things right and you get out alive. Alter the ritual and the results might not be worth thinking about. So much for scientific scepticism.
"The mission to P3R–290 took place after a team night started at my house; we spent the rest of the evening at Daniel's apartment," she explained. "Needless to say that on the mission we were both… adversely affected. The team night before the mission to P8X–442 was held at your cabin, Colonel. On the mission you ended up–"
"Yes, thank you, Carter," Jack snapped. "I think we all remember how I ended up." He turned to Daniel and Teal'c. "Now do you get it?"
"You think we were injured according to whose house team night was held at?" Daniel asked, trying hard not to laugh.
"This is not funny, Daniel," Jack fumed.
Teal'c observed: "It appears an unlikely explanation for the inauspicious events encountered upon those missions."
"Easy for you to say," Jack muttered. "You weren't… 'adversely affected' on any of them. Which further supports my theory, in fact."
"But Colonel," Sam said, "what has that got to do with tonight? We're not asking to go to anyone's house or quarters, we're just asking for the evening to be postponed."
"Oh, no, Carter. You want to break point five of the Code. That is to say, you want to cancel a team night directly preceding a mission. Postponing it until after the mission is just the same as cancelling it."
"What's wrong with cancelling it?" Daniel wanted to know. Jack shifted his gaze slowly to Daniel and said, slowly and emphatically:
"P3X–985."
There was a tight-lipped silence amongst all four members of the team.
"And guess what?" Jack continued, after he was satisfied that designation had produced the desired effect. Sam answered in spite of herself.
"We cancelled team night the previous evening."
"Exactly." Jack folded his arms. "Now. Unless you want to risk a repeat of that darned awful experience, I suggest we meet at 1900 hours, as planned, in the rec room, as planned. Any objections?" He looked pointedly at each member of his team. There was mumbling and shaking of heads.
"Good. 1900 hours, then. And Carter?"
"Sir?"
He surveyed her with a twinkling sentiment of mystery in his eye; she blinked back at him as he smiled coyly.
"Bring cake."
A/N: To discover the significance of guests, work and cake at team night, be sure to check back for Part 2!