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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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1/1
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7
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The Light Fantastic

Summary:

Sequal to: Many Happy Returns (yer - it's Clone-Jack again!)
Disclaimer: Anyone think I own Double Secret? Speak up now. *cricket chirp* Thought so.
Location: SG-1 Season 11? - regular continuity?
Spoilers: Very very few & minor.
Pairing: (everybody *grin*)
Rated: PG
Archive: Why would you want to? But here and... everyone else ask please.
Submitted through the Makebelieve_YG mailing list.

Work Text:

The Light Fantastic
by Darklady

Back from the library, Jon O'Neill dumped his backpack and checked his e-mail.

Junk.

Junk.

Disgusting junk.

Note from Carter. (Save that for later. )

And - oh lookie - one from NORAD `Deep Space Telemetry'. Jon clicked it open. Time to pay the rent.

G. Landry. 0830

Nothing more. But then - there wouldn't be. Not in an open e-mail. But? E-mail was safe enough when there was nothing in it - and encryption might have attracted attention from the sort of people who liked to *break* encryptions. Whereas Jon working part-time in the mountain? No secret.

Officially, he was a secure courier. Someone cleared to carry a locked briefcase between NORAD, the Pentagon, and other points of relevance. Factually he was... well, usually a secure courier, carrying a locked briefcase between SGC, General O'Neill, and Area 52. With the occasional side trip north to McMurdo and beyond. Sometimes documents. Sometimes `toys' for Carter and company. Lots of time bullion, since the Jaffa Council didn't take American Express.

Jon didn't mind. It suited his restless nature, it covered the bills, and it left enough time to make *most* of his classes.

Jon had shifted from the universe's fastest B.A. program to probably the planets slowest Masters. Two classes a semester, and even with that circumstances had stuck him with a few `incompletes' to do over. Fortunately, UC Colorado Springs was very sympathetic to service-related excuses. (Fortunate for *them, that is. Over the years the SG personnel - active and retired - had come to make up a fair part of the student body; plus a bigger portion of the faculty. Not to mention the substantial federal grants that had engorged the Anthro and Physics and Language departments at UCCS. The college President might not know about the mission - but he knew better then to piss off the Mountain. )

Still, Jon decided, he had better finish that paper for Dr. Wallis and e-mail it out tonight. Step past those blast doors and you never knew when ( or if ) you would be stepping out again.

Forty five minutes later - paper finished and proofed and printed ( just in case) and sent - Jon let himself go back to Carter's message. She was in town. Sweet. WIth Daniel. Better and better. And they were coming over after debriefing, which should be about...

OOOPS!

Jon scanned the living room. Not as bad as it could be ( by grad student standards - which consisted of `of you can walk on the floor that's good enough' ) but yesterdays pizza was still in the box and he was pretty certain the sheets wouldn't pass a sniff test.

He crunched the box into the trash and then - first things first - snagged the last set of clean sheets and headed for the bedroom.

That was the other good thing about his day job. Sam in Area 52, Daniel up north, the General in DC ( bringing a whole new meaning to the phrase `go fuck yourself') and on the best days whatever lucky dip of one or two or three duty called back to Colorado Springs. Disallowing the times when two out of three were off-world - which Jon resented bitterly ( if secretly). Not just because of the whole sleeping-alone thing. Although that would have been enough. He was a young man now. He had hormones to consider. Plus grades. Go without too long, and his study habits went to hell. Which you would think two degree-addicts would appreciate. There was also the whole going-off-world thing. Another thing Jon was going without.

Thinking of which? (Going without and tonight's *not* going without?.) Jon gave the pillows a quick fluff and headed for the bathroom. Toilet seat down. Dirty towels in the hamper. Lots of fresh and fluffy within arms reach of the shower. Razor in the drawer. Bath gel on the shelf. The fruity stuff Carter liked him to rub all over her. Peach melba.

Yum.

Had to get some adventure somehow.

Sure wasn't getting much *outside* of the bedroom.

So to speak.

Not that he could *totally* blame the Homeworld Security. It wasn't like they could ask a Major General to drop everything and trot off to this lab or that dig to think happy thoughts at whichever shred of Ancient tech was the special of the day. It was just... in Jon's opinion ... not the best use of his talents.

*brinnng*

"Hi Sam. Daniel."

He held open the door as they trooped through.

Daniel Jackson held out a brown paper bag. There was a damp smudge up one side, and little white boxes were beginning to poke though. "We brought Chinese."

"I had a craving for the Crab Potstickers." Sam smiled over her shoulder as she pulled out some plates.

From the glint in her eye, that wasn't the only thing the lady had a craving for.

To quote himself? Sweet.

TBC?

cKKR2006