Grill Mates
Jun. 6th, 2011 07:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stringertheoryTitle: Grill Mates
Rating: G
Characters: Jack and Sam
Word Count: 1676
Categories: friendship, humor
Spoilers/Warnings: None. Set in S5, post "Desperate Measures".
Summary: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sg1friendathon. Prompt was "Jack and Sam: Sam is secretly an expert at barbecuing."
Notes: Fantastic beta by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sg_fignewton. Thanks, dear!
Jack sucked in a deep breath of fresh air, grateful to be out in the sunshine after another overnight stay in the infirmary. He liked the doc well enough, but her office wasn't his favorite place in the world. He much preferred to spend his time like this—outside on a warm afternoon with his friends and his grill.
A light breeze blew across the yard, rustling the leaves in the trees and making the wind chime Carter had put up a year ago jingle pleasantly.
The team had gathered at Jack's house for a much-needed bit of downtime, and everyone had gravitated to the back porch to enjoy the great weather. Carter had disappeared inside, but Daniel and Teal'c were sprawled in chairs not far away from where Jack was fiddling with the grill, preparing it for the steaks Carter had brought. Daniel, beer in hand, was holding a one-sided conversation with Teal'c, who did little more than raise an eyebrow occasionally or give a nod of his head.
Jack rolled his shoulders gently. Thankfully, Carter had also brought the painkillers he'd forgotten on base, so the pain in his arm had moved from throbbing fire to dull soreness. Making sure to block his actions from the others, he carefully readjusted the sling holding his right arm and wiggled his fingers tentatively, wincing slightly at the corresponding twinge near his shoulder. He hated to admit it, but he probably would be in the sling longer than a few days as he had originally proclaimed. Fraiser was always right. He sighed inwardly and daydreamed about the next time he met up with Harry Maybourne. Swallowing the obscenity on the tip of his tongue, Jack squinted up at the sky, where fluffy white clouds floated by aimlessly.
“Now this would be a perfect day for fishing,” he called over his shoulder. “Just enough cloud cover, a little bit of wind to keep the flies away—” He glanced down at the grill, poking at the coals that were beginning to give off a pleasant aroma. “Still, a bit of barbecuing is a good enough substitute, eh?” He tossed a look at the others.
“Indeed,” Teal'c replied.
“It is nice to get off base for a while,” Daniel conceded, “though I really needed to finish the translation of those ru—”
“Ah, ah!” Jack turned to wave the poker he held in Daniel's direction. “We agreed: no talk about work.” Daniel opened his mouth to respond, but Jack gave the poker another waggle and felt slightly vindicated when Daniel remained quiet. “Good. Now do either of you see Carter—”
He was cut off by the swoosh of the sliding door opening and Carter herself answered.
“I'm right here, sir.” She slid the door back into place and approached him, carrying a shallow dish. “The steaks are ready,” she said, depositing the dish on the railing and then perching beside it to watch him. “How's the grill?”
“Hot and ready to go,” Jack replied.
Giving the coals a few more jabs, he inspected the steaks. They had clearly been marinated or coated in some sort of seasoning, but they also looked like choice cuts. He felt a ridiculous flicker of pride over Carter's meat buying skills.
With some difficulty, he managed to trade the poker he was holding for a roasting fork. He looked from the fork in his left hand to the steaks, then to the grill, then back at the steaks again. He'd gathered an impressive array of skills over the years; he was sure he could survive grilling left-handed. He just had to figure out the best approach. Aware of Carter watching him closely—and with doubt in her gaze—he stabbed at the topmost slab of meat. It took him three tries, but he eventually speared the steak and got it to the grill without dropping it in between. Carter, however, had cringed at each missed attempt and held her breath until the steak was safely on the rack. As Jack moved to select another one, he felt Carter's hand slip over his wrist.
“Sir, would you mind?” she asked, gesturing vaguely to the grilling area. His grilling area.
She looked harmless enough, but there was an underlying firmness to her question that made him certain this would turn into a battle if he refused. Jack wracked his brain for a good enough excuse not to give in.
“I thought you couldn't cook.”
Carter gave him a bland look. “Cook, no. Grill, yes.”
Jack wasn't entirely convinced by that argument, but he wasn't sure how to counter. A quick check showed him that he would get no support from the others. Daniel was peeling the label off his bottle of beer with just a smidge too much concentration, and Teal'c merely stared back at Jack with his typical stoicism, though the slight angle of one eyebrow indicated his amusement with the situation.
“Besides which,” Carter continued brightly, “no one expects you to match the excellence of the last meal you prepared for us with an injury plaguing you.” She motioned to his arm.
There was something that sounded suspiciously like a hastily muffled burst of laughter from Daniel's direction, but Jack was too busy trying to stare Carter down to spare Daniel a glare. He did his best to appear intimidating, sling and all. When Carter just gazed back at him, unaffected and unyielding, Jack decided to give in with good grace.
“Sure,” he said, handing over the fork. “Have at it.”
Face splitting into a smile, Carter took the proffered utensil and quickly began transferring steaks to grill. Jack retreated to the empty chair beside Teal'c, who was now clearly amused by the turn of events. Daniel—who had the good grace to at least affect a neutral expression—retrieved a beer from the cooler beside him, cracked the top, and passed it over to Jack. Then Daniel picked up the conversation again, enlightening them about the unidentified artifact SG-11 had discovered on their recent mission, Carter chiming in with her own intel about the device. Jack didn't bother to protest the shop talk, but let the sound wash over him while he kept a watchful eye on Carter's grilling. Though Daniel and Teal'c seemed at ease with the situation, Jack was skeptical as to Carter's skill with anything that involved the preparing of meals. He would never forget the first time they were subjected to Carter's cooking on P4X-593. He really hoped this wouldn't be a repeat performance; he was looking forward to steak. The finished products seem to prove his worries ill-founded, though, and he and Carter retreated indoors, where Teal'c and Daniel had just finished setting the table.
The O'Neills had always joked that you could tell the cooking was good when mealtimes were held in silence. If that was the truth, Carter had outdone herself. What was more, she had outdone him. The only sounds at the table were the clink of silverware against plate or the quiet request for someone to pass this or that. Even Daniel was quieter than usual, and silencing Daniel by any means was a feat worthy of some sort of award. As he savored another tender bite of steak, Jack eyed his second-in-command with silent admiration and not a little surprise.
Once the meal was over, they left Teal'c and Daniel to wash the dishes and headed back out on the porch, cups of coffee in hand while they watched the sun set. Jack sipped his coffee and stole glances at Carter from the corner of his eye. He was pleased to have discovered another skill in her—and an unexpected one at that—pleased that after five years there was still more to discover. His team would never cease to amaze him, it seemed. He liked that about them. He pivoted in his chair to look at her fully.
“When did you learn to grill?”
She didn't turn, but he could see her smile even in the dimming light.
“My dad,” she replied. “Whenever we both had a weekend free, we would grill out for the family. It was 'our' thing. Work took up a lot of his time, so we didn't get to do it nearly as much as either of us would have liked, but we managed it often enough that I picked up on the important parts.”
“Like how to avoid turning something black?”
She shrugged. “Unless you want it to be.” Sensing his stare, she glanced over. “My brother always preferred his steaks to be extra-well done,” she explained.
“I imagine it takes just as much skill to blacken and not ruin as it does to leave rare but not too...” he trailed off, waving his mug around in lieu of a free hand to flap, “rare.”
“About the same amount of skill it takes to blow up a sun, sir.”
Jack glanced over to find that her smile had edged into grin territory and he nodded gravely.
“Good to know, Carter.” He sighed and sank down in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “We ever need to use a sun to cook a steak just right, I know who to call.”
The sound of her snickers momentarily drowned out the chirping of the crickets. Jack took a noisy slurp of his coffee and looked up at the sky, where the stars were beginning to wink to life. From inside the house, he could hear Daniel and Teal'c—kitchen duty completed—heading for the porch themselves. As the door was pulled open, he leaned over to whisper conspiratorially to Carter.
“You know what the best part about cooking is, Carter?” he asked her.
“Sir?”
“Not having to do the dishes.”
Rating: G
Characters: Jack and Sam
Word Count: 1676
Categories: friendship, humor
Spoilers/Warnings: None. Set in S5, post "Desperate Measures".
Summary: Written for the
sg1friendathon. Prompt was "Jack and Sam: Sam is secretly an expert at barbecuing."Notes: Fantastic beta by
sg_fignewton. Thanks, dear!Jack sucked in a deep breath of fresh air, grateful to be out in the sunshine after another overnight stay in the infirmary. He liked the doc well enough, but her office wasn't his favorite place in the world. He much preferred to spend his time like this—outside on a warm afternoon with his friends and his grill.
A light breeze blew across the yard, rustling the leaves in the trees and making the wind chime Carter had put up a year ago jingle pleasantly.
The team had gathered at Jack's house for a much-needed bit of downtime, and everyone had gravitated to the back porch to enjoy the great weather. Carter had disappeared inside, but Daniel and Teal'c were sprawled in chairs not far away from where Jack was fiddling with the grill, preparing it for the steaks Carter had brought. Daniel, beer in hand, was holding a one-sided conversation with Teal'c, who did little more than raise an eyebrow occasionally or give a nod of his head.
Jack rolled his shoulders gently. Thankfully, Carter had also brought the painkillers he'd forgotten on base, so the pain in his arm had moved from throbbing fire to dull soreness. Making sure to block his actions from the others, he carefully readjusted the sling holding his right arm and wiggled his fingers tentatively, wincing slightly at the corresponding twinge near his shoulder. He hated to admit it, but he probably would be in the sling longer than a few days as he had originally proclaimed. Fraiser was always right. He sighed inwardly and daydreamed about the next time he met up with Harry Maybourne. Swallowing the obscenity on the tip of his tongue, Jack squinted up at the sky, where fluffy white clouds floated by aimlessly.
“Now this would be a perfect day for fishing,” he called over his shoulder. “Just enough cloud cover, a little bit of wind to keep the flies away—” He glanced down at the grill, poking at the coals that were beginning to give off a pleasant aroma. “Still, a bit of barbecuing is a good enough substitute, eh?” He tossed a look at the others.
“Indeed,” Teal'c replied.
“It is nice to get off base for a while,” Daniel conceded, “though I really needed to finish the translation of those ru—”
“Ah, ah!” Jack turned to wave the poker he held in Daniel's direction. “We agreed: no talk about work.” Daniel opened his mouth to respond, but Jack gave the poker another waggle and felt slightly vindicated when Daniel remained quiet. “Good. Now do either of you see Carter—”
He was cut off by the swoosh of the sliding door opening and Carter herself answered.
“I'm right here, sir.” She slid the door back into place and approached him, carrying a shallow dish. “The steaks are ready,” she said, depositing the dish on the railing and then perching beside it to watch him. “How's the grill?”
“Hot and ready to go,” Jack replied.
Giving the coals a few more jabs, he inspected the steaks. They had clearly been marinated or coated in some sort of seasoning, but they also looked like choice cuts. He felt a ridiculous flicker of pride over Carter's meat buying skills.
With some difficulty, he managed to trade the poker he was holding for a roasting fork. He looked from the fork in his left hand to the steaks, then to the grill, then back at the steaks again. He'd gathered an impressive array of skills over the years; he was sure he could survive grilling left-handed. He just had to figure out the best approach. Aware of Carter watching him closely—and with doubt in her gaze—he stabbed at the topmost slab of meat. It took him three tries, but he eventually speared the steak and got it to the grill without dropping it in between. Carter, however, had cringed at each missed attempt and held her breath until the steak was safely on the rack. As Jack moved to select another one, he felt Carter's hand slip over his wrist.
“Sir, would you mind?” she asked, gesturing vaguely to the grilling area. His grilling area.
She looked harmless enough, but there was an underlying firmness to her question that made him certain this would turn into a battle if he refused. Jack wracked his brain for a good enough excuse not to give in.
“I thought you couldn't cook.”
Carter gave him a bland look. “Cook, no. Grill, yes.”
Jack wasn't entirely convinced by that argument, but he wasn't sure how to counter. A quick check showed him that he would get no support from the others. Daniel was peeling the label off his bottle of beer with just a smidge too much concentration, and Teal'c merely stared back at Jack with his typical stoicism, though the slight angle of one eyebrow indicated his amusement with the situation.
“Besides which,” Carter continued brightly, “no one expects you to match the excellence of the last meal you prepared for us with an injury plaguing you.” She motioned to his arm.
There was something that sounded suspiciously like a hastily muffled burst of laughter from Daniel's direction, but Jack was too busy trying to stare Carter down to spare Daniel a glare. He did his best to appear intimidating, sling and all. When Carter just gazed back at him, unaffected and unyielding, Jack decided to give in with good grace.
“Sure,” he said, handing over the fork. “Have at it.”
Face splitting into a smile, Carter took the proffered utensil and quickly began transferring steaks to grill. Jack retreated to the empty chair beside Teal'c, who was now clearly amused by the turn of events. Daniel—who had the good grace to at least affect a neutral expression—retrieved a beer from the cooler beside him, cracked the top, and passed it over to Jack. Then Daniel picked up the conversation again, enlightening them about the unidentified artifact SG-11 had discovered on their recent mission, Carter chiming in with her own intel about the device. Jack didn't bother to protest the shop talk, but let the sound wash over him while he kept a watchful eye on Carter's grilling. Though Daniel and Teal'c seemed at ease with the situation, Jack was skeptical as to Carter's skill with anything that involved the preparing of meals. He would never forget the first time they were subjected to Carter's cooking on P4X-593. He really hoped this wouldn't be a repeat performance; he was looking forward to steak. The finished products seem to prove his worries ill-founded, though, and he and Carter retreated indoors, where Teal'c and Daniel had just finished setting the table.
The O'Neills had always joked that you could tell the cooking was good when mealtimes were held in silence. If that was the truth, Carter had outdone herself. What was more, she had outdone him. The only sounds at the table were the clink of silverware against plate or the quiet request for someone to pass this or that. Even Daniel was quieter than usual, and silencing Daniel by any means was a feat worthy of some sort of award. As he savored another tender bite of steak, Jack eyed his second-in-command with silent admiration and not a little surprise.
Once the meal was over, they left Teal'c and Daniel to wash the dishes and headed back out on the porch, cups of coffee in hand while they watched the sun set. Jack sipped his coffee and stole glances at Carter from the corner of his eye. He was pleased to have discovered another skill in her—and an unexpected one at that—pleased that after five years there was still more to discover. His team would never cease to amaze him, it seemed. He liked that about them. He pivoted in his chair to look at her fully.
“When did you learn to grill?”
She didn't turn, but he could see her smile even in the dimming light.
“My dad,” she replied. “Whenever we both had a weekend free, we would grill out for the family. It was 'our' thing. Work took up a lot of his time, so we didn't get to do it nearly as much as either of us would have liked, but we managed it often enough that I picked up on the important parts.”
“Like how to avoid turning something black?”
She shrugged. “Unless you want it to be.” Sensing his stare, she glanced over. “My brother always preferred his steaks to be extra-well done,” she explained.
“I imagine it takes just as much skill to blacken and not ruin as it does to leave rare but not too...” he trailed off, waving his mug around in lieu of a free hand to flap, “rare.”
“About the same amount of skill it takes to blow up a sun, sir.”
Jack glanced over to find that her smile had edged into grin territory and he nodded gravely.
“Good to know, Carter.” He sighed and sank down in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “We ever need to use a sun to cook a steak just right, I know who to call.”
The sound of her snickers momentarily drowned out the chirping of the crickets. Jack took a noisy slurp of his coffee and looked up at the sky, where the stars were beginning to wink to life. From inside the house, he could hear Daniel and Teal'c—kitchen duty completed—heading for the porch themselves. As the door was pulled open, he leaned over to whisper conspiratorially to Carter.
“You know what the best part about cooking is, Carter?” he asked her.
“Sir?”
“Not having to do the dishes.”