What do you do when you’re trapped on a desert island
which is something short of paradise with nothing to do? Swap stories, I guess.
Season: Early 7
Episode references: Crossroads, Crystal Skull, Watergate, Gamekeeper, What did I forget?
Rating: G-PG
Pairings: How do I put this? SG-1/ Other? Maybe just a little S/J UST?
Warnings: None. Unless you
are disturbed with the concept of kissing teenagers.
Category: I have no clue what to call this. You tell me…
Length: +/- 15,000 words
Disclaimer: not mine yada, yada, yada
……………………………………………………..
They were
due for a change of luck. All Jack O’Neill wanted from the current assignment
was no one shooting at them, no lousy weather, no bickering allies, and no injuries or alien diseases. And really, was that too much to ask?
Apparently
Jack hadn’t been specific enough with his wish list.
Oh, it had
started off well enough. MALP telemetry and video playback said they were headed to a nice warm beach complete with blue skies
and palm trees. The schedule only called for a standard 24 hour preliminary survey
(animal, vegetable, mineral and astronomical with an eye out for natives and Goa’uld), but Jack felt sure he’d
find an excuse for some lounging and maybe even a swim. The weather as they stepped
out of the gate was perfect; warm sunshine with light ocean breezes.
It was only
after the gate had winked out behind them that they began to realize something was wrong. The MALP transmissions had clearly
shown an expansive coastline. However the view before them was mostly water.
On top of that, the MALP itself was gone.
“Where
did the MALP go?” Daniel asked.
“Where
did all the land go?” Jack countered. The Stargate sat proudly in the center of a small island, not much more than a
sand bar, with only a couple of trees and absolutely no sign of recent activity; human, alien, or animal.
“Land does not go, O’Neill. It is by its nature fixed,” Teal’c said. Jack stared
at his jaffa friend for a long moment and finally decided that the reply had been another example of Teal’c humor.
“Well,
this land went somewhere,” Jack said, gesturing for them to take in the view. “How is that possible?”
“I’m
not sure, Sir,” Carter said as she stepped toward the water’s edge. “I
suppose it might be high tide…” she sounded dubious.
“High
tide, huh,” Jack said. “So that means we are stuck here for, what, six hours?”
“Well,
it would if we were on Earth,” she answered shading her eyes with her hands as she scanned the sky. “At home the
tidal cycle is approximately twelve hours from high tide to high tide or six hours from high to low.”
“I hear
an implied ‘but’ in your voice, Carter.”
“Well,
Sir, that cycle time is based on the length of Earth’s rotational period combined with the lunar orbit. We haven’t yet calculated the rotational period of this planet or charted its night sky. That’s part of what this mission is for.” Reaching
into a vest pocket, Carter pulled out a small filter which she held in front of her sun glasses.
Daniel slowly turned in a circle, considering the small island. “So how long until the waters do recede,
Sam?” he asked with interest.
“I couldn’t
say,” she answered still staring at the bright afternoon sky. “I think I see two or possibly three moons but I
can’t be sure. I could conduct a simple experiment which might give us
a rough idea, but it will take an hour or so.”
“Do
it,” Jack ordered. “Daniel, you and Teal’c look for any signs
of the MALP and start a survey of the perimeter while Carter runs her experiment. Let
me know if you find anything of interest.”
“Okay,
Jack, but what do we do with the other forty-five minutes?” Daniel asked with a smile.
The island was so small that the archeologist and the jaffa could easily circle it in a matter of minutes. At Jack’s glare Daniel laughed. “Come on Teal’c
let’s see what’s out there.”
“Indeed.”
Carter had
already dropped her pack and begun rummaging inside. Jack expected her to pull
out one of her electronic doohickeys, but instead she extracted a tiny geologist’s hammer, a tape measure, and a pair
of tent spikes. Moving confidently to the waters edge, she contemplated the various
boulders until she found one which suited her. Crouching by the rock Carter scraped at the ocean side of the bolder for a
few minutes pausing periodically to measure something Jack could not see from his position.
Finally she stood up and walked a short distance further along the beach. “Colonel, could you give me a hand
for a second?” she called.
“What
do you need, Carter?”
“Go
stand next to the DHD, please.”
Moving to
stand next to the stargate’s dial home device, Jack looked at his second in command. “Here?”
“That’s
fine, Sir. Catch,” she said and she lobbed the tape measure to him holding onto the end of the plastic tape so that
it streamed out behind the compact case. “Just hold it at the base of the DHD.”
He did as she requested, while she squatted at the waters edge. “What
does it read?”
“Eighteen
feet, seven and a-half inches,” he called.
“Fine,
would you please lock it down and hold it there for a minute?”
“Whatever
you say, Carter,” he said. He turned slightly and leaned against the DHD. Jack
watched the major with mild interest as she stabbed the first tent stake firmly into the sand at the end of the tape. She stamped first on top of the stake and then on each side, wedging the stake in
place. Walking back toward him, Carter stooped next to the tape measure and planted the other stake. Carter stood and surveyed
her work, checked her watch, and nodded. “Okay, Sir I can take that now,” she said holding her hand out for the
tape measure as she approached.
“That’s
it?” he asked, surprised.
“That’s
it. In about an hour I should be able to make a rough estimate of the tidal periods
on this planet.”
A few minutes
later, Daniel and Teal’c completed their slow orbit of the island.
“What
did you find?” Jack asked.
“Sand
and water, O’Neill,” Teal’c reported.
“I can
see that,” Jack grumbled. “What else did you find?”
“Teal’c
pretty much covered it, Jack,” Daniel said. “There is nothing interesting
on this island: no caves or signs of human habitation, a total of five palm trees, and the occasional large rock suitable
for sitting on or leaning against. That’s about it.”
“No
sign of the MALP?”
“I didn’t
see anything,” Daniel said. “Did you Teal’c?”
“I believe
the MALP left in that direction,” Teal’c said pointing to the east. “I found faint tracks leading into the
water at that point. The terrain drops off sharply there.”
“Swell. Okay campers, I guess we catch a few rays while we wait for Carter’s experiment
to tell us when the land is coming back.” Jack suited actions to words
and, dropping his pack, he removed his vest and jacket before stretching out on the sand.
After an hour,
Carter pulled out the tape measure, and with Daniel’s help, made a few measurements. The water level had actually risen
although not significantly. “The change would seem to indicate that the tidal cycle is days in duration rather than
hours,” Carter reported. “Although perhaps the planet is experiencing a convergence of its multiple moons which
is causing unusually high tides,” she posited.
“Fine.
Daniel, dial us up,” Jack ordered “Let’s go home.”
Carter went
to retrieve her tools while Daniel made for the dial home device. “Uh oh,” he said.
“What,
uh oh?” Jack demanded irritably.
“It’s not responding. The symbols don’t light
up when I press them, the gate doesn’t dial, and the chevrons don’t engage. Nothing.”
“Great!
Just great,” Jack grumbled. “Carter!” He called.
“I’m
on it, Colonel.” Carter opened up the DHD. She crouched next to the pedestal
and considered the alien innards of the device. This time when she reached into
her pack she pulled out voltmeters and the other electronic gizmos that Jack considered her stock and trade. “This doesn’t
make sense,” she muttered after a few minutes.
Jack did not
care for the sound of that. If something didn’t make sense to Carter then
that something was seriously whacked. “Major?”
“There's
nothing wrong with it, Sir,” she complained. “All the crystals are in place and in good shape. Every test I’ve
runs says the thing should work. If only it had power which, for some reason
I can’t determine, it doesn’t.”
“No
power?” Jack asked. Carter shook her head.
Jack took a deep breath. “Okay, no sweat. We’re due to report
in after four hours which is less than three hours from now. Once we’re
four hours overdue for contact, Hammond will have a tech dial us up. When that happens,
we explain the problem. Hammond sends through a naqueda reactor. Carter hooks it up. And we dial home. No problem, right?”
“Sounds
reasonable, Sir,” Carter said.
“What
do we do until then?” Daniel asked. “Try to retrieve the MALP?”
“It’s
worth a shot, I guess.” Carter replied.
“I knew
I should have packed my snorkel and flippers,” Jack said.
Before anyone
was allowed to go for a swim, Carter ran a quick check on the water. “Water, sodium, chloride, calcium, magnesium, and
sulfur plus a few trace elements; looks comparable to regular sea water,” she said with a shrug. “The water itself
should be safe, Sir. I can’t speak for whatever lives in it, of course.”
Jack looked
to Teal’c who nodded. “I will endeavor to locate the MALP,” he said as he unlaced his boots and removed
his vest, jacket and t-shirt. “My symbiote can sustain me for long periods
under water, even without kel-no-reem. Do not be concerned unless I fail to surface
in fifteen minutes.” Accepting one end of the rope Daniel held, Teal’c
followed the faint tread marks to the water’s edge and made a long shallow dive into the water.
Thirteen and
a half minutes later by Jack’s watch, Teal’c surfaced and began to make powerful yet economical strokes toward
the shore. “The ocean floor drops off sharply in this vicinity, O’Neill, and there are a number of large rocks. However I was able to locate the probe and secured the rope to its frame,” he
said taking the thin drab towel Carter offered him with a nod. “We can now attempt to pull it from the sea.”
‘Attempt’
was apparently the operative word. The sea clung to its prize. All four of them straining together on the rope could only make a foot or two of progress and, the moment
they paused to rest, the short length of rope gained with such effort slid back into the sea.
“Okay,
hold it,” Jack called after the third try. “We don’t need to kill ourselves over this. There has got to
be an easier way. You wouldn’t happen to have a hydraulic winch in your pack would you, Carter?”
“No,
Colonel, but I might be able to rig something that will give us a mechanical advantage.
Let me think about it for a minute,” Carter said, contemplating the rocks and trees in the immediate vicinity.
Jack stretched
broadly and threw himself back down on to the sand, watching Carter as she did her genius-thing. Daniel dropped next to Jack and adjusted his hat to shade his eyes.
Teal’c stood placidly for a moment and then, with a puzzled tip of his head, walked to a large flat rock nearby.
Teal’c
examined the rock thoughtfully and then, spreading his fingers, ran his large hands across the surface. “Teal’c,”
Daniel asked, noticing his friend’s odd behavior. “Why do you keep staring at that rock?”
“It
reminds me of a similar rock from a beach where I spent time in my childhood,” Teal’c said simply still contemplating
the rock in front of him.
“Chulak
has beaches?” Daniel asked a split second before Jack said, “You had a childhood?”
“Indeed,
I have fond memories of the region called the Grey Coast.”
“Grey Coast?” Jack said with a snort.
“That sounds even less romantic than this pile of rock and sand.”
“On
the contrary, O’Neill,” Teal’c said as he turned to face his friends. “By moonlight the sands of the
Grey Coast
glimmered as if made of starlight, and the waters shone as if they were liquid silver.”
“It
sounds lovely, Teal’c,” Carter called as she closely examined the nearest tree. “I hadn’t realized
you had such a poetic soul.”
“Bra’tac
has often said that all men are poets when speaking of love.”
“Love?”
Daniel asked, “Is the Grey Coast
where you met Ryac’s mother?”
“No,
Daniel Jackson, the Grey Coast is where I met she whom I loved and lost many years before I ever met Drey'auc,” Teal’c
said solemnly.
“Your first sweetheart, T’?” Jack asked. “Now that’s a story I want to hear.”
“It
is a lengthy tale, O’Neill.”
“We
seem to have plenty of time,” Daniel said, taking a seat on the sand. “I’d like to hear your story too.”
Carter looked up from the tree trunk she had begun scraping at with her knife and nodded as well.
“As
you wish,” Teal’c said. “After the death of my father, at the hands of Chronos, my mother and I moved to
Chulak...”
***
Life was difficult
for the adolescent Teal’c and his mother. They moved often from village to village looking for work to provide for their
needs and a place to call home. No matter where they went they faced suspicion and mistrust.
Five summers
after Teal’c received his first prim’ta, his mother took him to a seaside village on the Grey Coast. She had found work
for them both sorting the catch that came in on the fishing vessels every morning. When
he worked he worked hard, but Teal’c was given time to join the local boys in their war games by the ocean in the afternoons.
The youngsters
mirrored the mistrust of their parents. They used every opportunity to belittle the outsider.
Once they learned that Teal’c had no father, and more importantly why, the harassment grew. Every afternoon Teal’c would head to the beach intending to keep his temper and every afternoon he
lost it when one or another of the local boys spoke ill of his father.
The situation
continued in this manner for many days until Teal’c unexpectedly found acceptance among them.
One afternoon,
the oldest boys devised a challenging scenario for the group. ”Kree!” Da’tac
, the unofficial leader, called to gather the young men around him from their sparring. “We shall spend the rest of
the afternoon in a battle simulation. Four factions will be selected to defend territory and to attack the territory of the
other factions,” he explained. Da’tac pointed to three other older boys, drawing them to his side. The four took
turns selecting teammates from among the remaining boys.
The selection
continued. The squad leaders pointed or called names, and the young jaffa slowly sorted into their factions until, suddenly,
the selection was finished. Some youngsters were not selected by any of the factions;
a handful of the smallest boys and Teal’c. The four leaders turned away, ignoring the outcasts as if they did not exist.
“The field of battle will extend from this point south to the edge of the village and east through the forest as far
as the great mound road,” the commander began.
Teal’c
felt his blood boil. “Da’tac,” he demanded as he stalked to the older boy’s side. “What of them?”
he asked pointing to the other outcasts, but knowing the answer.
Da’tac
looked up from the map he had begun to sketch in the sand. “They are not wanted for this mission.” His imperious
stare made it clear that Teal’c also was not wanted. Teal’c clamped down on his anger. He would show Da’tac.
“If
you and the other leaders do not want them, then I will take them for my faction.” Teal’c said. Da’tac opened his mouth to dismiss the suggestion, but Teal’c continued. “Give us a territory
and we will do battle.”
By this time
Teal’c had the attention of everyone on the beach. Da’tac looked to the other leaders and then gave Teal’c
a nod. “Very well, your faction shall defend this area,” he said
tracing a small, undesirable portion of the battlefield.
Teal’c
nodded his acceptance.
Over the next
few hours, Teal’c devised unorthodox strategies to play to the strengths of his small band and by the end of the evening
his faction had claimed the entire field. From that point onward, Teal’c was accepted by the young men of the Grey Coast, and adored by the youngsters he had led to victory.
Every afternoon
as the boys trained and fought, a collection of girls would stand in the distance to watch.
Teal’c noticed one girl in particular. She had a noble bearing and
elegance which outstripped her years. She did not come to watch the training
every day, but on those occasions when she was a member of the audience Teal’c fought that much harder in the hopes
of gaining her attention and approval.
One evening
Teal’c noticed that, when the other girls left, she who had captured his attention did not head back to the village
with them, but walked further down the beach. A short while later, when the boys
broke off, he followed her. Once he was close enough to see her sitting on a
rock near the sea, Teal’c decided to act as if he had not pursued her.
Pretending
he did not know she was there, Teal’c jogged down the beach, shadow boxing as he went.
When he felt sure she must have seen him, he dropped to do some push ups and then did a hand stand. As Teal’c hand-walked along the edge of the water, the sand suddenly washed out from beneath the
fingers of one hand. And losing his balance, Teal’c fell. When he heard
her laughter ringing out across the beach, he was mortified. Teal’c stood
up and started walking stiffly away but she called out to him.
“Wait.
Please, I did not mean to laugh at you. I am ashamed to have laughed at a warrior of such skill and courage,” she called.
Teal’c
turned slowly toward the girl. She rose from the large flat stone where she sat
and walked toward him. At this distance she was even more beautiful than he had realized. Her dark eyes flashed from her honey
golden face.
“I am
Teal’c,” he said.
“Yes,
I know. You are the stranger who has recently risen to prominence in the training
circle,” she said. “I am called Shan’auc.”
“Greetings,
Shan’auc of the Grey Coast,”
he replied, pleased that she had noticed him and taken the effort to learn his name. “Why do you sit alone on the beach
at this hour, Shan’auc?”
“I do
not sit alone,” she corrected. “I sit with the most promising warrior trainee in the district. If you will join me,” she said pointing back to the flat rock.
Teal’c
smiled and with a nod gestured for her to lead him. “I thank you,” he said. “But I am not the most promising
trainee.”
“Oh,
but you are, even Bra’tac says so.”
“Bra’tac,
first prime to Apophis? You know him?” Teal’c asked.
“Yes. Master Bra’tac is friend to my father.
I have known him all my life. There is no better judge on Chulak of a
warrior’s potential. If he says you are marked for greatness, then I believe
him.” She smiled. Teal’c
could not be sure what he found more unbalancing: that Master Bra’tac knew his name, or that Shan’auc smiled at
him.
Embarrassed,
Teal’c changed the topic of conversation. He asked Shan’auc about
her family and her people. They sat and talked until it was fully dark, and then he walked with her to the edge of the village. He did not attempt to escort her farther, believing that his attentions would not
be welcomed by her family.
After that
night, Shan’auc joined the other girls on the ridge without fail. And without
fail she and Teal’c would meet in the evening at the rock by the ocean.
At each successive
meeting, Teal’c was more overwhelmed by Shan’auc. He had never spent
so much time in the presence of a young woman, and he had never seen anyone so beautiful and so charming. He could not understand why she chose to spend time in his company, but he did not care to question it. Teal’c knew that the season would end and his mother would take them elsewhere.
Shan’auc was as far beyond his reach as true acceptance among the people of this world, and for the same reason.
During the
afternoon bouts, Teal’c began to notice another member of the audience. Every
few days, a straight, proud figure in the gray cloak of Apophis’ warriors stood alone on the ridge. This man watched the boys as they fought, but disappeared when the last skirmish ended.
One afternoon,
as usual, Teal’c found some excuse to lag behind as the other boys made for the village. He would wait until they were
well gone in order to go unobserved to the stone by the sea and his meeting with Shan’auc. But as he turned he came face to face with the warrior.
“You
are the one called, Teal’c,” the man said.
“I am,”
Teal’c replied, fighting not to stare at the man’s forehead. It bore the golden mark worn only by the loftiest
servants of Apophis. “Master Bra’tac,“ Teal’c said with a bow.
“You
are not from the Grey Coast,”
Bra’tac said. “Who is your father?”
Teal’c
winced inwardly. Teal’c revered his father, and yet did not wish to speak
of him. For Teal’c knew from sour experience what would happen once he did so.
Still, when the right hand of your god asks a question, you fail to answer at your own peril. “My father was Ronac, former first prime to Chronos,” he said.
“Why
are you here on Chulak, Teal’c, son of Ronac?” Bra’tac asked with disdain.
“My
father lost favor in the eyes of Chronos,” Teal’c replied, stiffly.
“For
what reason?”
“He
lost a battle,” Teal’c said through clenched teeth.
“So
Chronos sent him away as punishment for his cowardice?” Bra’tac sneered.
“No.”
Teal’c felt rage boiling up in him again. “Chronos murdered my father for failing to do the impossible,”
he spat. “and then exiled my mother and me lest we infect Chronos’ jaffa ‘with his weakness’. But
my father was no coward!”
With frightening
speed, Bra’tac armed his staff weapon and leveled it at Teal’c. Teal’c glared at the older man, but did
not back away. Bra’tac stared intently at the boy, weighing his soul.
Then Bra’tac
disarmed the staff and returned it to his side. “Clearly you are no coward,
Teal’c, son of Ronac,” he said. “But you must learn to control
your temper if you are to be my apprentice.”
“Your
apprentice?”
“I can
teach you, boy, but can you learn?” the master said. Teal’c looked at him in confusion. “You have
an intuitive grasp of tactics, and you have the ability to inspire others. But even more importantly you understand that sometimes
it is better to live for one’s god than to die for him.” Teal’c had never thought of it quite that way before.
“However,” Bra’tac continued, “you must learn when to speak out for what is right, and when to hold
your tongue.” Teal’c bowed in acquiescence.
Bra’tac
studied the young man again. “You will do,” he said, nodding decisively. “I will speak with your mother
in the morning.”
“Thank
you, Master Bra’tac,” Teal’c said. “You honor me too much.”
Bra’tac
smiled. “In the mean time, go. Take your run,” he said pointing,
up the beach in the direction of the rock. Teal’c blinked, trying to decide if his new master knew what, or rather who,
waited at the end of his evening run.
“Tek
ma te, Master Bra’tac,“ Teal’c bowed.
“Until
tomorrow, Teal’c,” the older man said, and he turned back to the village.
Teal’c
waited until Master Bra’tac was nearly out of sight, and then, giving a shout of triumph, charged down the beach at
a breakneck pace. Shan’auc saw him coming and stood to meet him. With another inarticulate cry of joy, Teal’c
scooped her into his arms and swung her around. Shan’auc laughed; Teal’c
had shown occasional glimpses of humor in her presence but never such unbridled excitement.
Teal’c
stopped spinning and placed her back on her feet, but he did not let go. Instead he kissed her soundly. Bra’tac’s
offer had opened a new future for Teal’c which he had not previously dared contemplate. Now he chose to seize the chance
for another future he had thought his outcast state made impossible.
Shan’auc
did not recoil from his kiss. In fact she returned it with an enthusiasm to match
his own.
For the rest
of the evening they sat together on their rock. Teal’c spoke of his meeting with Bra’tac and kissed Shan’auc
in equal measure. “I told you Bra’tac thought well of you,” she said. “In time you will become first
prime.”
Teal’c
then spoke at length about his father and his life before his father’s disgrace and untimely death. It was a novel experience to have someone express sympathy for his father instead of scorn. The words of support and affection from Shan’auc led, of course, to more kissing. It was quite late
when they finally parted.
After Bra’tac
publicly acknowledged Teal’c as his apprentice, Teal’c and his mother found acceptance as never before. He continued
to train with the other young men in the afternoons, but worked with Bra’tac as well.
Even with his new responsibilities, Teal’c found time to meet with Shan’auc. His affection for her blossomed into a great passion.
But, the night
that he raised the question of a formal courtship his new found happiness crumbled.
“I cannot
marry you, Teal’c. Not now; not ever,” she said in quiet sorrow. “When
the summer ends I will leave the Grey Coast.” Teal’c stared, not comprehending her words. “I will go to the
temple of the Red Hills to begin training as a priestess.”
Teal’c
objected, but she would not be swayed. “You will serve the god in your way. I
will serve him in mine,” she said.
He argued,
and raged and begged. Shan’auc tried to remain calm but in the end she returned harsh word for harsh word and stormed
off down the beach.
Teal’c
did not see Shan’auc again until her last night in the village. The priests
had come to escort the novitiate away. Teal’c could not bear it and retreated to their rock to glare at the sea. Once it was fully dark, Shan’auc came to him across the beach made of starlight.
She tried again to make him understand.
“The
thought of leaving you breaks my heart, Teal’c,” she said quietly, “but being selected for the temple is
a high honor for my family and my village. I cannot disgrace them.”
Teal’c
bowed his head. The pain of disgrace he knew well. He could not ask her to face
that on his behalf, and so, after one final, passionate kiss, he allowed her to walk away.
***
“I was not permitted to see her again,” Teal’c concluded.
“Oh,
Teal’c,” Daniel said. “That is so sad.”
Privately,
Jack agreed. He had known there was history between Teal’c and the priestess the moment she’d stepped through
the gate and back into T’s life, but he hadn’t realized that she had been his first love.
Aloud, he
chuckled. “Somehow, I hadn’t expected you to behave so much like every other adolescent male, T’,”
he said, thumping the larger man on the back. “I always assumed you were too sensible to strut like a peacock for the
ladies.”
“A peacock?” Teal’c asked.
“I’ll
show you a picture when we get home, Teal’c,” Carter said absently as she sheathed her knife and began to wrap
the rope around the doctored tree trunk.
Standing to
take hold of the rope, Teal’c asked, “Do you wish us to make another attempt, Major Carter?”
Carter nodded.
“I couldn’t quite rig a capstan with the materials available, but I’ve peeled the bark and created a break
of sorts. These angled cuts should allow the rope to move easily in one direction but resist pulling in the other. It won’t
be as effective as a full ratcheting effect but it should help,” she replied.
Jack also
took hold of the rope but he didn’t drop the subject, “So, Shan’auc was the first girl you ever kissed?”
he asked. Teal’c nodded. “That explains the sparkage,” Jack observed, remembering again the power of the
reunion he’d witnessed.
“Indeed,”
Teal’c said, as he drew powerfully on the rope.
Jack and Daniel
threw their weight onto it as well and the rope began to move. Carter also pulled,
while monitoring the tree and her makeshift tool. When the team paused to adjust
their grips or ease their muscles, she jammed the rope into a vertical notch cut into the trunk to act as a break. Thus the sea slowly gave up its hold on the MALP.
“Ha!”
Jack yelled in triumph when the MALP finally came to rest on dry sand. “Okay. Daniel, you and I will give this thing
a once over. Carter, you and Teal’c check your experiment again,”
he said, as he watched the MALP drip sea water.
“Colonel?”
Carter asked.
“We
may not be able to fix it, Major, but Daniel and I ought to be able to figure out if it’s broken,” Jack replied.
Carter nodded
and, picking up her tape measure, led Teal’c away to check the water levels. Daniel
and Jack began to pull seaweed off the MALP as they examined the probe for obvious damage.
The head lights were broken, the sensor dish canted at an unfortunate angle, and the video camera didn’t look
too happy, but the general frame and the drive train seemed to be intact.
A few minutes
later, Carter and Teal’c returned.
“So,”
Jack said. “Has the water started going down, yet?”
“It
has not, O’Neill. It has in fact continued to rise,” Teal’c
reported.
“I can’t
explain it, Colonel,” Carter said. “Not only has the water level risen, the change has accelerated. Tidal cycles
shouldn’t change in rate.”
“Is
this a problem, Major?”
“Well,
Sir, unless the tide begins to ebb, I estimate the waters will reach the base of the DHD in approximately three and a half
hours.”
Jack checked
his watch. “We should still have an hour to get the DHD fixed once Hammond checks up on us,” he calculated aloud. Carter nodded. “Then it’s no problem. We’ll need to move our base camp closer to the gate though,” he said. Carter nodded again, and went with Teal’c to move the tools and other belongings they had left scattered
on the beach to higher ground.
“Okay,
Daniel,” Jack said. “Grab the remote and let’s see if this thing is willing to respond to commands.” Jack bent over to check the engine on the robotic probe. After who-knew-how-many hours under water he doubted the MALP would do anything without a complete overhaul,
but stranger things had been known to happen. Daniel hit the switch on the remote
and the MALP’s engine burped an unreasonably large amount of sea water right into Jack’s face.
Daniel howled
with laughter.
“What?”
Carter demanded, as she returned.
“Jack
just… the MALP… it… Kawoosh!” Daniel flung his arms up and out in imitation of a fountain as he gasped
for breath around his laughter.
Jack stood
up slowly, water streaming down his face. “Okay, Daniel, that’s enough,” he said as if speaking to an unruly
child. “It wasn’t that funny.”
Daniel’s
chortle subsided to a giggle. “If you say so, Jack.”
Jack flapped
his wet t-shirt rapidly. “I don’t get why it did that,” Jack said, tipping his head and wiggling a finger
in his ear to clear the water.
“The
MALP is designed to blow compressed air through the engine compartment on start-up to clear out water or airborne contaminants
which might damage the electric engine, Sir,” Carter explained while holding out a towel; the same thin towel Teal’c
had used earlier.
Jack stared
at Carter for a long moment. Then he gave her a rakish grin and took the towel before turning back to Daniel. “You know,”
he said. “T’s story reminds me of a particular summer afternoon I spent by the water with a pretty girl,”
he said.
“Oh,
really?” Daniel said with interest. “And did that pretty girl give Jack O’Neill his first kiss on that particular
summer afternoon?”
“Now,
Daniel,” Jack said, “you know I never kiss and tell.”
“Maybe
not, Sir,” Carter said dryly, “but you certainly know how to behave like a tease.”
Jack smirked
at her.
Blinking innocently,
Carter picked up the screw driver he had dropped when the MALP had given him his unexpected bath. “I’ll see if
I can get the MALP engine to run, Colonel. You might as well satisfy Daniel’s
curiosity while I work.”
“Just
Daniel’s curiosity, Carter?” Jack asked. “Now I’m hurt.”
***
The summer
he was sixteen, Jack ran with a crowd of high school guys. Back before cable
television came to rural Minnesota and long before the invention of the X-Box, kids more or less lived
outside in the summer. His crowd particularly enjoyed baseball and street hockey. A couple of the older guys had girlfriends, but most of the gang were unattached and seemed reasonably
happy that way. Jack had a paper route and mowed lawns for pocket money
which he regularly blew on Hot Rod and Mad magazines.
Society was
changing and the world was in turmoil but, except for what came through their televisions on the evening news, most of that
just passed their small town by. Some of the guys referred to the place as, “Nowhere, Minnesota, just twenty miles north of No Place In Particular”. They spent endless hours
discussing where they would go and what they would do once they were old enough to get out.
At the time, the small town had felt like purgatory. But, from roughly thirty years away, Jack knew that it had in
fact been heaven.
In July, one
of the guys, Tom Simmering, organized a canoe trip for a large group of kids. Tom’s
girlfriend was invited, so that meant the other girlfriends were invited. And
with the girlfriends came the friends of the girlfriends, and the kid sisters of some of the guys. The event became a major
logistical challenge. The number of kids who were willing/ allowed to go kept
changing, the sources for borrowed canoes kept reneging, and only a few of the kids had access to vehicles. Anyone less stubborn
than Tom would have given up. As it was, he almost tossed in the towel half a
dozen times. The guest list swelled to over thirty at one point but by the actual day it had settled to fourteen: nine guys
and five girls.
On the morning
of the trip they managed to strap the seven borrowed canoes on top of the three borrowed vehicles, but it took awhile. Nine
Indians all wanted to be chief. Toes got stepped on, heads got knocked, and canoes
got dropped or nearly dropped. The girls stood back and laughed at the impromptu slapstick show the guys performed. It didn’t take long for Jack to realize that his suggestions were being ignored and that all of the
hands were just getting in each others way, so he stood back to watch as well.
It also gave
him a chance to watch the girls. Two of them fit the girlfriend designation. In
Jack’s opinion, the two soon-to-be seniors wore makeup and clothing more suitable for a trip to the city than a trip
to the lake. The other three girls included one ‘friend of a girlfriend’
and two ‘kid sisters’. Jack wondered if he could snag one of them for his canoe partner. He didn’t get that many opportunities to talk to girls, and a relaxed day on the water might be a
good chance.
Of the three,
he noticed Claire Simmering, Tom’s sister, the most. A year behind him
in school, Claire had large blue eyes, blonde hair, and the sweetest round little … knees. Unlike the older girls Claire
had chosen to dress sensibly for a day on the water. She had Tom’s old
ball cap, a large, man’s dress shirt with its tails tied at her waist, short blue shorts, white knee socks, and a pair
of Keds. The knee socks and short shorts had an intoxicating effect on Jack.
Finally, after
more than half an hour to stow the gear, everyone piled in for the forty-five minute drive to the lake. Once they arrived,
more confusion ensued as the canoes and the picnic baskets and coolers were unloaded. Then the jockeying for canoes began.
The two girlfriends shared canoes with their boyfriends, of course. But somewhat surprisingly, two of the other girls nabbed
a canoe between them. Even so, Jack managed to maneuver so that he ended up with
Claire in his canoe.
The seven
canoes started out together, the occupants laughing and talking back and forth across the water. Jack joked with the guys
in the other canoes, but Claire didn’t say much. With Claire in the front, Jack watched her pony-tail swing as she followed
the conversation going on around her.
After an hour
or so, the group began to spread out. Two of the all-guy canoes began to race, with Mike Paulson singing the Hawaii 5-0 theme at the top of his lungs. Claire laughed as she watched them pull away. She had
a charming laugh.
“Mike
is such a goof,” Claire said.
“He
is that,” Jack agreed, although if he’d had another guy in his canoe, he would have joined in on the race and
probably bellowed the theme song right back at Mike.
Claire smiled
over her shoulder at him. “Not that there is anything wrong with goofs,”
she said. “I like people who are willing to be silly.”
“Me
too,” he agreed, relieved. They paddled in silence for a few minutes. *Say something, you idiot,* Jack admonished himself.
“I haven’t seen you around recently. Have you been gone somewhere?” he finally asked.
“I just
got back from two weeks at scout camp,” she said.
“Scout
camp? Aren’t you a little old for that?”
“Not
really,” she replied. “Next year I can be an assistant counselor if I want, but this year I was in the primitive
unit.”
“The
primitive unit?” he repeated. “What the heck’s that?”
“Instead
of sleeping on bunks in cabins we set up our own tents and built our own beds by lashing logs together and stretching ropes
across them,” she explained. “We cooked all of our own food instead of eating in the mess with everyone else,
and we learned basic survival and orienteering skills.”
Jack was impressed.
“Sounds like hard work,” he said.
“Not
really. We got to go swimming every day, and we had plenty of time to hang out and talk.
Plus, over the campfire every night we told stories and sang songs.”
“Like
what?” he asked.
Claire broke
into a jaunty, nonsense song about storm-damaged billboards, “Chew Coca Cola chewing gum, Drink Wrigley Spearmint beer,
Kennel Ration dog food makes your complexion clear…” Jack laughed
in appreciation.
When she finished,
Jack sang a sprightly song he particularly liked filled with puns and abrupt topic shifts which led to light innuendo.
Claire rested
her paddle on the gunnels so that she could applaud. “I hadn’t heard that one,” she said. “Do you know the one about the…” She trailed off as she turned to look back at him.
“Hey,
Jack,” a voice called. Jack turned to see Tom and his girlfriend, Staci,
pulling up nearby. “I see you got stuck with the kid,” Tom said. “Sorry about that. I hope she isn’t being too much of a drag.”
“We’re
getting along fine,” Jack replied, insulted on Claire’s behalf.
“Well,
if she gets to be too obnoxious, just push her overboard,” Tom said. Staci
laughed. Tom reached over and set Claire and Jack’s canoe rocking.
“Back
off, Jerk,” Claire said.
Tom grinned
and shoved down harder on the gunnel, clearly trying to tip over his sister and Jack.
“Stop it,” Claire complained, pushing her brother on the shoulders. That set the other canoe rocking precariously
as well.
“Tom!”
Staci cried out. Jack kept his center of gravity low and tried to maneuver his canoe out of the older boy’s reach. Unless Tom stopped screwing around, one canoe or the other was going to capsize. The
question was which one.
Claire also
kept her balance and stayed low, but Tom overreached himself in his drive to upset his sister both figuratively and literally. Suddenly, with a cry of dismay, Tom and Staci hit the water as their canoe tipped
past the point of no return.
“Come
on, let’s go,” Claire called putting her paddle in the water and beginning to stroke firmly.
“But
don’t we need to…” Jack began.
“They’ll
be fine,” she interrupted. “It isn’t that deep here. Besides,
Steve and Linda will be here in a minute if they need help getting back in.” Jack looked back at the couple in the water. Tom had already righted their canoe and begun collecting their wayward belongings. They seemed fine. With a shrug, Jack put paddle to water and in a few minutes they
had left Tom and his girlfriend behind.
Claire rested
her paddle again as she blew out a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“I just get so angry at him sometimes. He can be such a… a
…”
“Goof?”
Jack suggested.
“No,
I told you I like goofs. Part of Tom’s problem is that he isn’t willing to be a goof.” Claire pulled off the ball cap to wipe her brow and then placed it back on her head. “It’s
warm out here isn’t it?” she asked.
Jack was about
to say that he thought it was pleasantly cool when Claire threw off the large man’s dress shirt she had been wearing
to reveal a bikini top, modest by today’s standards but showing off shoulders and midriff.
“Um,
yeah. Yeah it is kind of warm,” he agreed.
For the next hour or so Jack’s attention was continually drawn to Claire’s shoulders and back. Her pony
tail moved gently across her shoulder blades as she paddled and the ends fluttered in the light breeze.
Eventually,
they saw the lead canoes pulled up on a sandy beach. Jack and Claire pulled in
next to them. Some people swam while others sat in the sun and talked. Sun bathing was considered healthy then. No one had heard of SPF and suntan lotion was meant to make you more likely to tan. Jack wondered if Claire
would want to lay out, and if she did whether he might be asked to put lotion on the shoulders he had been watching all morning.
“You
want to swim?” Claire asked.
Of course,
a swim would be good too. “Absolutely,” Jack replied. He pulled off
his tennis shoes and his t-shirt before charging into the water. Once up to his chest, Jack turned to watch Claire. She had already toed off her own shoes and was peeling off the knee socks.
Suddenly, Jack’s head was shoved under water. He surfaced to see Mike laughing at him. “Why you…”
he swore and began chasing Paulson to dunk him in return.
Revenge accomplished,
Jack turned to look for Claire. She was in the water up to her shoulders and
Jack felt slightly cheated that he hadn’t gotten to see the other half of her bikini.
Just then, Claire took a deep breath and made a surface dive, giving Jack a quick flash of her bikini bottoms before
her firm young legs pulled straight into the air and then sank beneath the surface.
Jack was still marveling at the sight, when his own legs were yanked out from under him and he went under again.
Jack surfaced
with dire plans for Paulson forming in his mind. Only it wasn’t Mike who
grinned at his disgruntled expression, but Claire. She laughed and swam quickly
out of his reach. Claire was a strong swimmer, but Jack managed to catch her.
Laughing he lifted her up out of the water and dropped her with a mighty splash.
They played
tag until lunch was called and everyone left the water. Claire offered Jack her towel after she rubbed it briefly across her
arms and legs. He accepted, grinning as he scrubbed the towel across his hair.
Jack tried not to sulk when Claire put the large shirt back on over her bikini.
After lunch
a debate ensued. Part of the group wanted to head back to the cars the way they came; another wanted to continue on around
the lake. Eventually it was decided to split up. Jack asked Claire which way
she wanted to go. “Whichever way Tom doesn’t,” she replied.
The other
six canoes loaded up and split off. “You ready?” Jack asked when
Claire made no move toward the canoe.
“Just
a minute,” she said. “I need to um…” she waived vaguely at the tree line, “I’ll be right
back,” she finished.
While she
was gone, Jack made a last sweep of the area just to make sure the group hadn’t left anything behind. Then he climbed into the canoe. The metal floor of the canoe was hot on his bare feet. Fumbling for his
shoes, Jack jammed his toes into them. Keeping low, he shuffled down the length of the canoe to the stern seat. Just as Claire came out of the tree line, Jack turned around to sit and, stepping on a shoe lace, lost his
balance, pin-wheeled comically, and fell overboard. Claire smiled broadly but did not laugh. “Are you okay?” she
called as he waded back to shore dragging the canoe.
“Just
promise me you won’t tell Tom or Mike, and I’ll live,” he replied, walking up the bank and wiggling a finger
in his ear to clear the water.
“I promise,”
she replied, again offering her towel. She watched intently as Jack rubbed the towel up and down his arms and across his chest.
Jack caught her gaze and held it as he dried his hair. Was it his imagination or was she standing just a little too close?
He dropped the towel around his shoulders and just looked at her. She looked back. Jack’s heart pounded as he took a
small step in her direction and, when she did not step back to maintain the distance, he took another step. Her dark blue
eyes grew wide as he slowly moved closer, and then they closed.
Standing alone
on the shore, Jack and Claire kissed.
He clearly
felt the warmth of the sunshine on his shoulders, the heat of her body through the white cotton shirt, and the burning of
her lips on his. “Wow,” he breathed when they finally parted. He
couldn’t believe it. He had actually kissed a girl! And not only that,
but he had kissed a girl who was both pretty and fun. He felt like he could fly.
“Yeah,
wow,” Claire agreed with a giggle. “You certainly know how to show a girl a good time, Jack O’Neill.”
“You
ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Jack said and kissed her again.
Eventually,
they realized they had to catch up with the others, who had left some unknown time before. Instead of hugging the coast they
struck off across the middle of the lake.
Along the
way, Claire sang other silly camp songs including one about a ‘little boy, little girl, in a little canoe’ where,
having gotten the little girl out on the moonlit lake, the little boy says, ‘I think you better kiss me or get out and
swim’. Claire stopped to explain that there were two different endings
to the song. One which answered the ‘Whatcha gonna do in a little canoe, with the moon shinning all a… boats floating
all a… girls swimming all a-bout?’ with a cry of ‘Splash’
and one that ended with a loud smooching sound.
“Which
was the original ending?” Jack asked, curious.
“I have
no idea,” Claire replied. “Some girls sing it one way, some sing
it the other.”
“Which
way do you prefer?” he asked.
“You
know, I always figured the boy was being a jerk for demanding a kiss, and it would serve him right to leave him sitting there
in the middle of the lake,” she said. “But, I’m beginning to think there might be something to be said for
the other response.” She flashed a flirtatious grin over her shoulder. If
he hadn’t already lost his balance once trying to walk the length of the canoe Jack would definitely have taken her
up on that unspoken offer.
Claire laughed
at Jack’s look of consternation and blew him a kiss. Turning to the front, Claire broke into another song. This time
it was a song about trying to fix a broken banjo which used tongue rolls to simulate the sound of the banjo. Jack couldn’t
help but imagine kissing her again and battling such a talented tongue. Shaking
his head, Jack decided that he had completely misjudged the Girl Scouts.
Thanks in
small part to Claire’s orienteering skills and in large part to luck, Jack and Claire managed to arrive at the cars
only shortly after the others. They sat next to each other for the car ride back to town playing footsie along the way.
Jack and Claire
became ‘an item’ and dated until about October when Claire dropped him in order to date a senior. The guy was an intellectual grind who claimed he was going to become a doctor.
***
