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Boredom - Revised
Long-winded details were finally winding down, as Colonel Jack O'Neill returned - smothering
yet another yawn, to the sideboard in search of coffee, caffeine, a stimulant. Something, anything
was called for, to bolster his flagging interest, and perk up his brain-dead somnolence.
He hated after-lunch meetings!
He hated that feeling, the one that came creeping up over him, no matter what he ate, or when,
or how stringent he was with the menu. The feeling that his eyelids weighed a ton, his body felt
too heavy, too comfortable and too well satisfied. And his brain was slowly and surely shutting
down from far too many statistics, too much incomprehensible information, with never a bottom
line in sight.
Was there even a bottom line to some of this stuff '" Walters, from EnServ, just liked
to hear the sound of his own voice - 'for cryin' out loud.'
And now, all he wanted to do was rake off all of those handouts and bullshit files and folders
from atop the conference table, climb up, and then curl up in a ball and enjoy a post-lunch
siesta. Never mind General Hammond and the other department heads...
Let them find their own flat surface, it's every man for himself, or herself.
Never mind that he never took a nap during the daytime.
Unless he was hogtied to a sick bed, and incapable of running away.
But, boredom did that to him. And he was bored, in spades!
So far, the agenda had covered the present state of U.S. readiness, the military response, the
Air Force and Cheyenne Mountain in particular, the planned shutdown of the Stargate for
preventive maintenance and the temporary reassignment of effected personnel, a plea from
General Hammond for shutting off unnecessary lights and equipment, thereby conserving
resources, and had now segued into the increased usage of toilet paper and cleaning supplies.
How do you over-use toilet paper?
He hated after-lunch staff meetings!
He could see Carter over there with Major Sylvia Burns, both acting like they never wasted
toilet paper, and always turned unnecessary lights off.
Us? They can't be talking about us."
O'Neill poured himself a cup of the steaming hot beverage, stirring in an ice cube to prevent
scalding his mouth, while watching his 2IC. She wasn't seated across from him as usual, or
beside him like he preferred. She had a habit of quietly punching his shoulder, in agreement or
not, when he made a valid point during a presentation, discussion, or an argument. Maybe that's
why he found himself bored out of his skull. He hadn't had those little nudges to keep things
interesting, to keep him alert just waiting, anticipating those few brief touches they shared in
public.
Sam Carter knew she was being watched as she enjoyed, along with her friend Sylvia, a
quiet game of "Make fun of the speaker." So far Major Walters, who saw himself as quite the
ladies man, was providing the only two females present, with enough ammunition to keep up
their silly, boredom-reducing antics. As long as General Hammond didn't call them on it.
Looking around the table, Carter watched the faces of the other staff members present. Each,
and every one had that glazed look, the one that said, "My butt has reached its limit of useless
information, and my brain has shut down." She continued scanning the faces, realizing one face
in particular was missing.
Where had the Colonel gotten?
She felt a niggling disappointment about being late to the meeting. Although she'd arrived before
General Hammond, she hadn't been early enough to grab a seat by the Colonel. "Make fun of
the speaker" was always more fun with him, and then once upon a time, a rousing game
between Daniel and the Colonel of "You did/I didn't" would've brought this stupor-producing
staff meeting to its proper conclusion. Too bad Daniel had ascended. She missed Daniel, and
those oddball moments.
Surreptitiously glancing around the conference table again, her eyes wandered to the sideboard
where they caught and held the dark amber eyes of the officer, for whom she'd been searching.
O'Neill rolled his expressive brown eyes, at the speaker.
Wally seems to have found another head of steam and is heading where no man has
gone before.
Shr understood the clear statement, yet it remained unspoken. And then O'Neill held up his cup of coffee, very slightly, as if in salute. An instant blush stained her cheeks, and brought a smile to her face. Carter looked down at her hands clasped in her lap, yet O'Neill caught a glimpse of
the blush AND her dimples. Sam enjoyed the flutter of butterflies in her stomach.
A simple smile on his lips, and a smirking grin blowing his mind, O'Neill sauntered
back over to his chair, carefully setting his coffee cup down, and then took his place at the broad
table.
That quick infusion of caffeine seemed to have done the trick. Or it could have been Carter's
blush, and/or those dimples. Either way, he felt alive again and ready for fun and games himself. Looking
over at the General, O'Neill was pleased to catch Hammond in the act of smothering a yawn.
Boredom seems to be contagious, but then again, maybe Walters had worn out his subject
matter and his welcome.
O'Neill looked up, catching the eye of a dietary aide hovering near the coffee urn, and motioned
for the man to bring a coffee for the general.
General Hammond glanced up from his notes as the fragrant, steaming hot cup was placed at his
right hand, and then up at the dietary aide, with questioning eyebrows raised toward a non-
existent hairline. The Sergeant tipped his head toward Colonel O'Neill, before returning silently
to his position at the coffee urn.
General Hammond looked over at his 2IC, sending him a grim thank you for the coffee.
It was Hammond's custom to allow his staff unlimited floor time when giving monthly reports.
Most often, these staff meetings were the only contact, outside of the O club, that his people
had between several of the more mundane departments, like Environmental. He was loath to
shut the major down, especially if he had relevant information to disseminate, but even his
patience was wearing thin.
As Major Marvin Walters, Environmental Services, droned on and on, determined to have his
fifteen minutes of fame at every monthly staff meeting, Colonel O'Neill had already reached his
limit. He'd been nice, considerate even, had shown an interested facial expression, had also
shown an interest, up to a point, even when Walker was boring as hell. And now, it was
time for the man to shut-the-hell-up!
**************************************************
Scraaatch, thump.
Scraaatch, thump.
Scraaatch, thump.
It was a small noise, but the repetition was distracting, causing Major Walters to lose his place,
forgeting the thread of his information. It came from the upper-rank end of the large table, and
looking up he caught Colonel O'Neill in the act of peeling the Velcro cover from his watch then
thumping it back into place, again and again. The Colonel seemed distracted, but you never
could tell with O'Neill, even Walters knew that dumb act was a front.
O'Neill felt angry eyes turned his way, but continued with his diversion, it wouldn't hurt
old Wally one iota to stew a bit.
Scraaatch, thump.
Scraaatch, thump.
"Colonel, Colonel O'Neill, may I continue?"
O'Neill turned a blank stare toward the object of his harassment, and then looked all around
him as if to ask who me?
"Colonel, if you can just bear with me for a short while longer, I'm getting to the crux of my report."
O'Neill grimaced, and mouthed "sorry."
I'll just bet you are, you arrogant son of a, Walters found his thread and
continued.
Only to be interrupted again, this time by the continuous rumble of restless fingers drumming on
the solid wood table.
Walters stopped speaking again, turning furious eyes toward the culprit.
O'Neill continued the soft rumble on the table top, waiting for Wally to speak. He looked down
the table, catching Carter's eye with waggled eyebrows, and a slow wink. She hid her grin
behind a soft cough.
"Colonel O'Neill, sir, I really must insist."
"I think you need to bring it on home, son," the General intervened, looking at his own watch,
because he could, and had the stars to prove it, "The hour is growing late, we've been at this all
afternoon, and I have a dinner appointment."
"But sir, I still have several points - "
"Only the high spots, son. Only, the high spots."
"Yes, sir," a dejected Major replied. Damn O'Neill, one of these days I'm going to finish
my report without that smart aleck interfering.
***************************************************
"All I'm saying, General, is you gotta' jump in a lot sooner, sir. Major Wally already thinks I'm
a dumb, smart aleck, son of a Bi, sorry sir, but you get my drift."
"Jack, sometimes that's the price of leadership," the General chided, with a smile.
"There's got to be a way, sir," O'Neill was deep in thought. "I don't mind taking the heat, sir, I
just hate being the bad guy, all the time."
"I'm sure you'll figure something out, son."
"A memo, I'll send out a memo. We'll have planned seating, name cards, Carter can sit by
me, keep me straight. I, you'll, we'll all sit together, so I don't have to be the bad guy, it's
bad for my morale, sir."
Hammond laughed at O'Neill's antics, as he was meant to.
"Soo, General, you have a date? Way to go, sir, anybody we know?"
"As a matter of fact, Colonel, yes. You do know them."
"Them, sir." O'Neill's eyebrows rose, almost hitting his hairline.
"Them, Jack." Hammond grinned, "Tessa and Kayla have invited me for happy meals and a
movie, and I don't want to be late."
"Yes, sir, I mean, no, sir. Good night, General, see you tomorrow '" bright and early."
The older man threw a goodbye wave over his shoulder as he walked down the SGC hallway,
turning a corner to catch the elevator.
O'Neill stood in the middle of the hall, smiling, watching his retreating figure.
"He's gone, Carter, you can come out now."
The tall, slim figure of his 2IC emerged from a darkened sub corridor.
"How did you know it was me, sir?" She asked in a faintly surprised voice.
"How did I know it was you? Come on Carter; give me some credit. I'm Special Ops trained,
for cryin' out loud. Plus, we've worked together how long now? Five, no six years? I
recognized your moves. And, I smelled your perfume, do you realize that no one else in the
SGC wears that scent, nobody.
She smiled to herself, was that good or not so good? But she was pleased that he should
recognize her favorite scent, and identify it as only hers alone.
"So Carter, it's kind of late, have you had supper? If you haven't, Mess hall's open, I'm
buying."
"I'd like that, sir."
"Carter, Sam, I went off duty," he looked at his watch, "I officially went off duty ten minutes
ago. Do you think you could make it through dinner calling me Jack?
"Yes, sir, Jack. I think I just might."
Smiling, they turned, and headed for the dining hall, dinner and a pleasant evening.
"So Ca, eh, Sam, I've been thinking, about our staff meetings. I'm trying to compose a memo, to keep me out of trouble. I am the 2IC around here, right?
She nodded.
"And, with the General's approval, what I say goes, right?
Again, Carter nodded as they moved down the darkened corridor.
"So," he said, as they turned the corner, "I was thinking -"
The End
Rev. 05-28-05
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