![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
waldos_writingsTitle: From the Unofficial Reports of Colonel Jack O'Neal - Children of the Gods
Posted on: August 11, 2000
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/Daniel, eventually
Word Count: 1821
Summary: "If anyone ever knew I was doing this, I would have them taken out and shot." Jack takes a page from Daniel.
If anyone ever knew I was doing this, I would have them taken out and shot.
But Daniel writes in a journal every night, and I’m not sure I’m not reading into things, but he looks a little more peaceful after he’s sorted his thoughts out on paper. He sits on the end of the couch each night and gets some more translating done, but before the end of the night he pulls out this green notebook and just writes for like an hour. He thinks I think he’s still working on the pictures, but even he can’t translate what he’s not looking at.
Daniel is ... interesting.
Quieter than most people think. He loves to tell you everything about everything old and dead, but he never talks about himself. He hardly says a word at home at night. It’s like he was raised with that ‘children should be seen not heard’ thing and never got over it.
I’m not quite sure if he likes me. I don’t think he likes much about about the military and sometimes I get the impression that I get lumped in right along with the rest of it. Sometimes. Sometimes I think he thinks I’m the only friend he has in the universe.
I’m trying to push his paperwork through as fast as I can, but the great bureaucracy that is the United States Military, but ... I think I could walk it to D.C. faster.
I’ve been pretty low in my life. But I’ve never been well and truly... stuck like he is. He really couldn’t walk way from this project if he wanted to. I guess we should all just be glad he doesn’t seem to want to. Or something...
I felt like such and ass the other day. The mess was having... I don’t even know anymore, I just remember telling Daniel that there was a reason we call it a ‘mess’ in the military instead of a cafeteria. Anyway, I suggested we grab burgers on the way home. It wasn’t until he tried to frantically come up with a reason not to that I realized he didn’t have any money. So I covered dinner and felt like an idiot the whole time. It was just one of those things I’d never thought about until then. I want to try and remember to tell him I’ll take him to the DMV so he can get his license replaced this weekend. Coming back from the dead must be hell for a civilian.
Why hasn’t the military done anything about this? Maybe they didn’t think of it either.
He doesn’t talk much about what his life was like there - on Abydos. I think I made the mistake of not listening terribly intently once too often. He notices things like that.
Anyway. He acts like I don’t want him around. I’m not sure what else I can do, short of spelling it out, to let him know that I’ve never liked living alone. I’ve lived in dorms, I’ve lived in barracks, I’ve lived with my wife and child... when it gets too quiet, I start hearing things. Makes me think I’m going nuts. I’ve tried getting his nose out of the books he had ordered for his office, but I’m not getting very far. He doesn’t seem to like hockey and although I know he has some basic astronomy skills - he used them to chart some of the stuff from Abydos - he’s not real keen on going up on the roof at night.
I can’t imagine feeling foisted off on people. Not like this. He literally has no where else to go. I don’t know where his family lives, but to the best of my knowledge, he hasn’t tried to contact them. So... in the mean time... I guess I’ve... adopted him, for lack of a better word.
He knows his stuff. I know I’ve never been one to be completely forthcoming with complements, but when it comes to things old and buried, Daniel knows his stuff. He makes these logic jumps that just mystify the hell out of me. And, of course, when he does my first instinct is to give him crap, but I hate feeling like the slow learner in the group! Carter seems to follow him, but most of the time I can’t follow her either. I don’t mean to hurt his feelings or anything, but I get a little sick of asking people to explain things to me. I’m not dumb. Despite what my ex-wife might tell you. I’m just not used to hanging out with the brain trust of the free world.
I’d say I’d tone down the sarcastic remarks, but I know myself better than that. Some days I can’t believe I ever made it to Colonel in this man’s Air Force with my tendency to talk first and think later.
Anyway, Daniel’s gonna need to develop a thicker skin if he’s gonna play with the big boys. I’ve never known a man who shows his emotions more openly than he does. It’s a little disconcerting. I don’t know how to react to him when he gets that kicked puppy look after I cut off another of his “life and times of the Egyptian Gods” lectures.
We’re getting a unit of Marines here tomorrow or the day after, and they’re gonna eat him alive. Hell, there are a few AF guys on the base who I’m keeping an eye on. I don’t like some of the scuttlebutt I’m hearing in the locker room.
He may be a civilian, he may be a scientist, he may be a geek - okay, he is a geek - but some of these airmen better get real used to his presence at he SGC or I’m gonna make their lives hell. I’d like to see any one of them do what he does. He made the damn gate work, he gets to be on the team. It sort of works that way.
Besides, he’s looking for his wife for Christ’s sake. I know if Sara were out there I’d be going nuts if my hands were tied. He proved his worth to the team on Abydos. He got us there, he got us home - yeah, it was a bit sticky in the middle - but when it came down to it, he did what we needed to have done. He’s earned his stripes.
Besides, I like him. He might be surprised to know that. But anyone who takes even half of my sarcastic comments literally is a fun guy to hang out with. I think he’ll eventually stop taking me - and the rest of the world - universe?- quite so seriously. I’ve sort of made it my pet project to loosen him up a little. It’s a fairly serious undertaking; he’s pretty uptight.
Actually, he has his moments. When we brought him back from Abydos he was in these huge robe things that looked and smelled like they had been made from an ancient camel. So while the docs poked at him and let him get cleaned up, I grabbed him some fatigues. And a Boonies hat.
Why the military thinks we need hats that look like something my grandfather would have worn to walk down and get the newspaper, I’ll never understand. Give me my cap any day of the week. Anyway, I gave him one of those dumb hats, just trying to get him to smile. And the dork wore it on our mission to Chulak.
I don’t know if he just wasn’t going to argue the point - though that’s not terribly his style - or if he did it to poke back at me.
Oh well, at least with the string around it, he’s not as apt to loose it.
Sometimes I find myself caught between being the good-old-soldier and joining the other guys in picking on him and being his friend and trying to help him fit in. First thing that had to be done after getting him some clothes was getting those glasses fixed. I figured that he was enough of a geek all ready that he didn’t need to be called Poindexter for having tape around his glasses. They just needed a screw. The look on his face when I handed them back was.... priceless. You’d think I’d given him the gift of sight itself or something. Get a grip, Danny, it’s just a freaking screw.
On the flip side of that coin was the look he gave me when I told him Marlin was expecting him this morning for work on the firing range. He wants nothing to do with guns. Tough. Every man, woman and child on my team will be able to defend themselves. I’m sending Teal’c once we get permission to put him on the team. He’s pretty handy with that staff weapon he brought back with him, but I’d like to know he can use normal ordnance when the battery runs out on that thing.
Daniel should think himself lucky, actually, I just want him to be able to aim and fire and sidearm. I’m not going to put anything automatic in his hands if I can possibly avoid it.
I called down and told Marlin to take it easy on him. The guy used to be a drill sergeant, and can still be a bit of a jerk. I think he’d put Daniel into shock without even trying too hard if I didn’t tell him to play nice. I’d teach Daniel myself, but that might look a little weird. We have a weapons expert on the base, why would I go around doing another person’s job? Besides, Daniel needs to get out and meet people.
Ack. It’s getting late. I should go round him up and head out. It’s not like I’m getting any work done here anyway.
He’s definitely one of those total egg-head types. I think if he was left to his own devices, he’d work in that office until he fell asleep. I have to drag him out of there everyday. He usually tells me to go on ahead, that he’ll stay on base, he wants to get one or two more pages done or something. But nobody should be condemned to a diet of Air Force food, especially after sleeping on an Air Force bed. I don’t know why he keeps arguing with me. We have the same discussion everyday. He says he’s gonna stay and get some work done, I tell him not to be dumb, he can bring the work home and he gives in.
Truth be told, it’s getting old. I’m a poet and I don’t know it.
Why am I writing this stupid thing when I could be at home grilling steaks and watching ESPN or something? Okay, I figured I’d give this journal thing a try, but I still don’t get it. I think I’ll just chuck it.
Posted on: August 11, 2000
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/Daniel, eventually
Word Count: 1821
Summary: "If anyone ever knew I was doing this, I would have them taken out and shot." Jack takes a page from Daniel.
If anyone ever knew I was doing this, I would have them taken out and shot.
But Daniel writes in a journal every night, and I’m not sure I’m not reading into things, but he looks a little more peaceful after he’s sorted his thoughts out on paper. He sits on the end of the couch each night and gets some more translating done, but before the end of the night he pulls out this green notebook and just writes for like an hour. He thinks I think he’s still working on the pictures, but even he can’t translate what he’s not looking at.
Daniel is ... interesting.
Quieter than most people think. He loves to tell you everything about everything old and dead, but he never talks about himself. He hardly says a word at home at night. It’s like he was raised with that ‘children should be seen not heard’ thing and never got over it.
I’m not quite sure if he likes me. I don’t think he likes much about about the military and sometimes I get the impression that I get lumped in right along with the rest of it. Sometimes. Sometimes I think he thinks I’m the only friend he has in the universe.
I’m trying to push his paperwork through as fast as I can, but the great bureaucracy that is the United States Military, but ... I think I could walk it to D.C. faster.
I’ve been pretty low in my life. But I’ve never been well and truly... stuck like he is. He really couldn’t walk way from this project if he wanted to. I guess we should all just be glad he doesn’t seem to want to. Or something...
I felt like such and ass the other day. The mess was having... I don’t even know anymore, I just remember telling Daniel that there was a reason we call it a ‘mess’ in the military instead of a cafeteria. Anyway, I suggested we grab burgers on the way home. It wasn’t until he tried to frantically come up with a reason not to that I realized he didn’t have any money. So I covered dinner and felt like an idiot the whole time. It was just one of those things I’d never thought about until then. I want to try and remember to tell him I’ll take him to the DMV so he can get his license replaced this weekend. Coming back from the dead must be hell for a civilian.
Why hasn’t the military done anything about this? Maybe they didn’t think of it either.
He doesn’t talk much about what his life was like there - on Abydos. I think I made the mistake of not listening terribly intently once too often. He notices things like that.
Anyway. He acts like I don’t want him around. I’m not sure what else I can do, short of spelling it out, to let him know that I’ve never liked living alone. I’ve lived in dorms, I’ve lived in barracks, I’ve lived with my wife and child... when it gets too quiet, I start hearing things. Makes me think I’m going nuts. I’ve tried getting his nose out of the books he had ordered for his office, but I’m not getting very far. He doesn’t seem to like hockey and although I know he has some basic astronomy skills - he used them to chart some of the stuff from Abydos - he’s not real keen on going up on the roof at night.
I can’t imagine feeling foisted off on people. Not like this. He literally has no where else to go. I don’t know where his family lives, but to the best of my knowledge, he hasn’t tried to contact them. So... in the mean time... I guess I’ve... adopted him, for lack of a better word.
He knows his stuff. I know I’ve never been one to be completely forthcoming with complements, but when it comes to things old and buried, Daniel knows his stuff. He makes these logic jumps that just mystify the hell out of me. And, of course, when he does my first instinct is to give him crap, but I hate feeling like the slow learner in the group! Carter seems to follow him, but most of the time I can’t follow her either. I don’t mean to hurt his feelings or anything, but I get a little sick of asking people to explain things to me. I’m not dumb. Despite what my ex-wife might tell you. I’m just not used to hanging out with the brain trust of the free world.
I’d say I’d tone down the sarcastic remarks, but I know myself better than that. Some days I can’t believe I ever made it to Colonel in this man’s Air Force with my tendency to talk first and think later.
Anyway, Daniel’s gonna need to develop a thicker skin if he’s gonna play with the big boys. I’ve never known a man who shows his emotions more openly than he does. It’s a little disconcerting. I don’t know how to react to him when he gets that kicked puppy look after I cut off another of his “life and times of the Egyptian Gods” lectures.
We’re getting a unit of Marines here tomorrow or the day after, and they’re gonna eat him alive. Hell, there are a few AF guys on the base who I’m keeping an eye on. I don’t like some of the scuttlebutt I’m hearing in the locker room.
He may be a civilian, he may be a scientist, he may be a geek - okay, he is a geek - but some of these airmen better get real used to his presence at he SGC or I’m gonna make their lives hell. I’d like to see any one of them do what he does. He made the damn gate work, he gets to be on the team. It sort of works that way.
Besides, he’s looking for his wife for Christ’s sake. I know if Sara were out there I’d be going nuts if my hands were tied. He proved his worth to the team on Abydos. He got us there, he got us home - yeah, it was a bit sticky in the middle - but when it came down to it, he did what we needed to have done. He’s earned his stripes.
Besides, I like him. He might be surprised to know that. But anyone who takes even half of my sarcastic comments literally is a fun guy to hang out with. I think he’ll eventually stop taking me - and the rest of the world - universe?- quite so seriously. I’ve sort of made it my pet project to loosen him up a little. It’s a fairly serious undertaking; he’s pretty uptight.
Actually, he has his moments. When we brought him back from Abydos he was in these huge robe things that looked and smelled like they had been made from an ancient camel. So while the docs poked at him and let him get cleaned up, I grabbed him some fatigues. And a Boonies hat.
Why the military thinks we need hats that look like something my grandfather would have worn to walk down and get the newspaper, I’ll never understand. Give me my cap any day of the week. Anyway, I gave him one of those dumb hats, just trying to get him to smile. And the dork wore it on our mission to Chulak.
I don’t know if he just wasn’t going to argue the point - though that’s not terribly his style - or if he did it to poke back at me.
Oh well, at least with the string around it, he’s not as apt to loose it.
Sometimes I find myself caught between being the good-old-soldier and joining the other guys in picking on him and being his friend and trying to help him fit in. First thing that had to be done after getting him some clothes was getting those glasses fixed. I figured that he was enough of a geek all ready that he didn’t need to be called Poindexter for having tape around his glasses. They just needed a screw. The look on his face when I handed them back was.... priceless. You’d think I’d given him the gift of sight itself or something. Get a grip, Danny, it’s just a freaking screw.
On the flip side of that coin was the look he gave me when I told him Marlin was expecting him this morning for work on the firing range. He wants nothing to do with guns. Tough. Every man, woman and child on my team will be able to defend themselves. I’m sending Teal’c once we get permission to put him on the team. He’s pretty handy with that staff weapon he brought back with him, but I’d like to know he can use normal ordnance when the battery runs out on that thing.
Daniel should think himself lucky, actually, I just want him to be able to aim and fire and sidearm. I’m not going to put anything automatic in his hands if I can possibly avoid it.
I called down and told Marlin to take it easy on him. The guy used to be a drill sergeant, and can still be a bit of a jerk. I think he’d put Daniel into shock without even trying too hard if I didn’t tell him to play nice. I’d teach Daniel myself, but that might look a little weird. We have a weapons expert on the base, why would I go around doing another person’s job? Besides, Daniel needs to get out and meet people.
Ack. It’s getting late. I should go round him up and head out. It’s not like I’m getting any work done here anyway.
He’s definitely one of those total egg-head types. I think if he was left to his own devices, he’d work in that office until he fell asleep. I have to drag him out of there everyday. He usually tells me to go on ahead, that he’ll stay on base, he wants to get one or two more pages done or something. But nobody should be condemned to a diet of Air Force food, especially after sleeping on an Air Force bed. I don’t know why he keeps arguing with me. We have the same discussion everyday. He says he’s gonna stay and get some work done, I tell him not to be dumb, he can bring the work home and he gives in.
Truth be told, it’s getting old. I’m a poet and I don’t know it.
Why am I writing this stupid thing when I could be at home grilling steaks and watching ESPN or something? Okay, I figured I’d give this journal thing a try, but I still don’t get it. I think I’ll just chuck it.