Quick Lessons in Cat Herding
Sep. 4th, 2011 03:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stringertheoryTitle: Quick Lessons in Cat Herding
Rating: G
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Cameron Mitchell, Jack O'Neill
Word Count: 1108
Categories: friendship, humor
Spoilers/Warnings: Missing scene from "The Shroud" (10.14). Spoilers for same.
Summary: Written for the![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sg1friendathon: "Cam, Jack. Herding cats."
Note: Beta by the wonderful![[personal profile]](https://s.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lolmac.
Jackson was still unconscious, and Cam had nearly worn himself out willing him to wake up.
They had been back from their little jaunt on the Ori ship for hours now, but Jackson still hadn't shown any signs of being in a hurry to rejoin the land of the living. Not long ago, the others had wandered off to eat, but Cam had stayed behind. He wasn't really hungry, and he felt that someone should be at Jackson's bedside at all times, just in case he came to. He felt that he should be at Jackson's bedside, and he wasn't leaving until Jackson woke up or someone dragged him away.
Dully, Cam watched the pulse of Jackson's heartbeat dance across the monitor. The sound of a voice at his elbow made him jump.
“Mitchell.”
Cam whipped around to find General O'Neill lowering himself into the chair beside his. Cam frowned at him, disconcerted that anyone could have come up on him without him noticing. He started to stand, but O'Neill waved him back down.
“Keep your seat,” O'Neill said, sighing as he settled into his own. He gave Cam an appraising once-over. “You look like you need it.”
“Long day,” Cam said, settling back.
“Long few months,” O'Neill replied.
“Yes, sir.”
They fell into silence, each pondering his own thoughts. In the bed in front of them, Jackson slept on, his breathing deep and even. Cam snuck a glance at O'Neill from the corner of his eye. The general was relaxed in his chair, his face calm, but Cam fancied he could see the tint of worry in his gaze as he watched the subject of their vigil. Guilt twisted in his stomach and Cam mentally berated himself for every single misstep he had made since taking over leadership of SG-1. Once through the list and back where he started—with Jackson unconscious in an infirmary bed and General O'Neill in from Washington for the occasion—Cam cleared his throat.
“General O'Neill,” he started quietly, “I want to apologize.”
O'Neill cut him a sharp look. “For what?”
“For all this,” Cam said, gesturing helplessly to Jackson. “If I had—” He stopped short as O'Neill waved a hand dismissively.
“Mitchell, if there is anyone on this planet who doesn't need your apology, it's me. Remember, I've been here before,” he said, encompassing the infirmary with circle of his finger.
“Yessir, but I—” Cam tried again.
“You ever had a cat, Mitchell?”
Cam blinked. “My gran had a couple, and my mom kept a mouser for the barn,” he said slowly, trying to locate the road the conversation had suddenly veered down.
“Ever try to catch any of them?” O'Neill asked.
“Only once, when I was about seven,” Cam answered, chuckling softly at the memory. “Gran asked me to held round up Ginger and Bobo for their annual visit to the vet. I shooed those cats all over that damn house for an hour before Gran just shook a bag of treats and they sashayed right into the carrier at her feet like that had been their plan all along.” Shaking away the memory, Cam frowned at the general. “Sir, I don't see what—”
O'Neill cut him off. “Leading SG-1 is like herding cats, Mitchell.” He threw a look in Jackson's direction. “Really opinionated, know-it-all cats.”
Cam allowed himself a small smile. “Yes, sir.”
“I had a slightly easier time of it than you do, since I outranked Carter.”
Cam nodded, thinking to himself that O'Neill also had a history with Daniel and a debt with Teal'c on which to build. All he had was almost dying in Antarctica and having read every SG-1 mission report ever. Not much in the grand scheme of things.
“Of course, even rank didn't help much,” O'Neill said thoughtfully. “Never does with SG-1. Carter stuns you with her techno-mumble-jumbo and springs into action while you're still dazed. Half the time you have no idea what the hell she's doing, so she gets away with a lot more than she should.”
“A lot of saving our asses,” Cam muttered, quickly tacking on a “Sir.”
O'Neill nodded. “Her finest quality,” he agreed. He motioned to Jackson. “Daniel pretends to follow and lets you get on with leading, but then he'll just disappear—”
“—Like that,” Cam added, brushing one palm across another.
“Exactly. And when he decides you're going in the wrong direction, he'll take off in the opposite one, and you just have to try to keep up.”
“Good to know I'm not the only one he does that to.”
“Oh, he does it to everyone,” O'Neill stated breezily. “From four-star generals down to the lowliest native of P3Y-whatever. And Teal'c has that whole Jaffa revenge thing.”
“It's not as bad now,” Cam advised.
“No?”
“I think he burned most of it off hunting down the Goa'uld,” Cam said. “I don't doubt it's still there,” he added at O'Neill's dubious look, “but I'm more worried about his Jaffa stubborn streak.”
“They all have stubborn streaks,” O'Neill said, grumpiness in his tone.
“Don't I know it.”
They nodded in unison. Cam yawned and O'Neill played with a loose thread on his cuff.
“And you have Vala to wrangle, too,” he added suddenly.
Cam shook his head and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “I leave that to Jackson.”
“Smart man.”
Cam shrugged. “Not like she'd listen to me anyway, and it's more fun to just let them argue it out.”
O'Neill nodded. Jackson's monitors beeped softly and he slept on, unaware of the two men watching him. Cam rubbed a hand over his face and stifled another yawn. O'Neill glanced over at him.
“You're doing a good job, Mitchell,” he said. “All team members considered.”
“Thank you, sir.”
There was a pause, and in the quiet Cam could hear Vala's laughter and Sam's voice from the hallway. As they drew closer, Teal'c's low responses became audible. O'Neill clapped him on the shoulder as they stood up to greet the returning team.
“You're doing a good job,” he repeated, “but if anyone else turns into a Prior, I'm gonna be a little angry.”
Cam could tell he was serious, but there was also a twinkle in his eye. Cam grinned and nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
Rating: G
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Cameron Mitchell, Jack O'Neill
Word Count: 1108
Categories: friendship, humor
Spoilers/Warnings: Missing scene from "The Shroud" (10.14). Spoilers for same.
Summary: Written for the
sg1friendathon: "Cam, Jack. Herding cats."Note: Beta by the wonderful
lolmac. Jackson was still unconscious, and Cam had nearly worn himself out willing him to wake up.
They had been back from their little jaunt on the Ori ship for hours now, but Jackson still hadn't shown any signs of being in a hurry to rejoin the land of the living. Not long ago, the others had wandered off to eat, but Cam had stayed behind. He wasn't really hungry, and he felt that someone should be at Jackson's bedside at all times, just in case he came to. He felt that he should be at Jackson's bedside, and he wasn't leaving until Jackson woke up or someone dragged him away.
Dully, Cam watched the pulse of Jackson's heartbeat dance across the monitor. The sound of a voice at his elbow made him jump.
“Mitchell.”
Cam whipped around to find General O'Neill lowering himself into the chair beside his. Cam frowned at him, disconcerted that anyone could have come up on him without him noticing. He started to stand, but O'Neill waved him back down.
“Keep your seat,” O'Neill said, sighing as he settled into his own. He gave Cam an appraising once-over. “You look like you need it.”
“Long day,” Cam said, settling back.
“Long few months,” O'Neill replied.
“Yes, sir.”
They fell into silence, each pondering his own thoughts. In the bed in front of them, Jackson slept on, his breathing deep and even. Cam snuck a glance at O'Neill from the corner of his eye. The general was relaxed in his chair, his face calm, but Cam fancied he could see the tint of worry in his gaze as he watched the subject of their vigil. Guilt twisted in his stomach and Cam mentally berated himself for every single misstep he had made since taking over leadership of SG-1. Once through the list and back where he started—with Jackson unconscious in an infirmary bed and General O'Neill in from Washington for the occasion—Cam cleared his throat.
“General O'Neill,” he started quietly, “I want to apologize.”
O'Neill cut him a sharp look. “For what?”
“For all this,” Cam said, gesturing helplessly to Jackson. “If I had—” He stopped short as O'Neill waved a hand dismissively.
“Mitchell, if there is anyone on this planet who doesn't need your apology, it's me. Remember, I've been here before,” he said, encompassing the infirmary with circle of his finger.
“Yessir, but I—” Cam tried again.
“You ever had a cat, Mitchell?”
Cam blinked. “My gran had a couple, and my mom kept a mouser for the barn,” he said slowly, trying to locate the road the conversation had suddenly veered down.
“Ever try to catch any of them?” O'Neill asked.
“Only once, when I was about seven,” Cam answered, chuckling softly at the memory. “Gran asked me to held round up Ginger and Bobo for their annual visit to the vet. I shooed those cats all over that damn house for an hour before Gran just shook a bag of treats and they sashayed right into the carrier at her feet like that had been their plan all along.” Shaking away the memory, Cam frowned at the general. “Sir, I don't see what—”
O'Neill cut him off. “Leading SG-1 is like herding cats, Mitchell.” He threw a look in Jackson's direction. “Really opinionated, know-it-all cats.”
Cam allowed himself a small smile. “Yes, sir.”
“I had a slightly easier time of it than you do, since I outranked Carter.”
Cam nodded, thinking to himself that O'Neill also had a history with Daniel and a debt with Teal'c on which to build. All he had was almost dying in Antarctica and having read every SG-1 mission report ever. Not much in the grand scheme of things.
“Of course, even rank didn't help much,” O'Neill said thoughtfully. “Never does with SG-1. Carter stuns you with her techno-mumble-jumbo and springs into action while you're still dazed. Half the time you have no idea what the hell she's doing, so she gets away with a lot more than she should.”
“A lot of saving our asses,” Cam muttered, quickly tacking on a “Sir.”
O'Neill nodded. “Her finest quality,” he agreed. He motioned to Jackson. “Daniel pretends to follow and lets you get on with leading, but then he'll just disappear—”
“—Like that,” Cam added, brushing one palm across another.
“Exactly. And when he decides you're going in the wrong direction, he'll take off in the opposite one, and you just have to try to keep up.”
“Good to know I'm not the only one he does that to.”
“Oh, he does it to everyone,” O'Neill stated breezily. “From four-star generals down to the lowliest native of P3Y-whatever. And Teal'c has that whole Jaffa revenge thing.”
“It's not as bad now,” Cam advised.
“No?”
“I think he burned most of it off hunting down the Goa'uld,” Cam said. “I don't doubt it's still there,” he added at O'Neill's dubious look, “but I'm more worried about his Jaffa stubborn streak.”
“They all have stubborn streaks,” O'Neill said, grumpiness in his tone.
“Don't I know it.”
They nodded in unison. Cam yawned and O'Neill played with a loose thread on his cuff.
“And you have Vala to wrangle, too,” he added suddenly.
Cam shook his head and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “I leave that to Jackson.”
“Smart man.”
Cam shrugged. “Not like she'd listen to me anyway, and it's more fun to just let them argue it out.”
O'Neill nodded. Jackson's monitors beeped softly and he slept on, unaware of the two men watching him. Cam rubbed a hand over his face and stifled another yawn. O'Neill glanced over at him.
“You're doing a good job, Mitchell,” he said. “All team members considered.”
“Thank you, sir.”
There was a pause, and in the quiet Cam could hear Vala's laughter and Sam's voice from the hallway. As they drew closer, Teal'c's low responses became audible. O'Neill clapped him on the shoulder as they stood up to greet the returning team.
“You're doing a good job,” he repeated, “but if anyone else turns into a Prior, I'm gonna be a little angry.”
Cam could tell he was serious, but there was also a twinkle in his eye. Cam grinned and nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
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on 2011-09-06 10:25 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2011-09-06 10:37 pm (UTC)