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badly_knittedTitle: Always Useful
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Jack O’Neill, Daniel Jackson.
Rating: PG
Setting: Early Season Two.
Summary: Jack has a slight problem, but Daniel has the solution.
Written For: Challenge 435: Amnesty 72 at
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fan_flashworks, using Challenge 425: String.Disclaimer: I don’t own Stargate SG-1, or the characters.
A/N: Quadruple drabble.
“Dammit!” O’Neill muttered as his bootlace snapped. He should have known taking his boots off was a mistake, but seeing Daniel bathing his hot and aching feet in the cool water of the stream, he’d given in to temptation and joined him. He didn’t entirely regret it; he’d welcomed the rest even if he hadn’t needed it as badly as Daniel had. Not that Daniel was any kind of wimp, he was surprisingly tough for a civilian scientist; no doubt living on Abydos had helped toughen him up, but he hadn’t yet developed the military habit of ignoring physical discomfort and keeping going no matter what.
Daniel swallowed the last of the energy bar he’d been eating and gave O’Neill a questioning look. “What’s up?”
“My bootlace broke, and I don’t have a spare set. You don’t happen to…?” O’Neill trailed off hopefully. “I’d ask Carter, if she was here, but…” Once again, he trailed off; as soon as they’d arrived, he and Daniel had headed one way to scout out the area while Carter and Teal’c had gone in the opposite direction. They were in communication via their radios, but that wouldn’t solve his current predicament.
Shoving the empty snack wrapper in his pocket, Daniel shook his head. “No, sorry. I’ve got this though.” Digging in his pack, he pulled out a ball of string, offering it to O’Neill.
“You don’t carry spare bootlaces, but you’ve got a whole-ass ball of string?”
“You don’t have bootlaces either,” Daniel pointed out. “String, on the other hand, is useful for all kinds of things. No archaeologist would be caught dead out in the field without a ball of string. We use it to mark out grids during a dig, tie things together for carrying, and when necessary, to replace broken laces.” He grinned. “I recommend using it double for extra strength.”
“Right.” O’Neill took out his belt knife, cut a length of string, and folded it in half.
“Knot both ends. Makes threading it through the lace holes easier.”
“You’ve done this before.”
“Oh yes, many times,” Daniel assured him.
“Because you don’t keep a spare set of bootlaces in your pack.”
That drew another grin from Daniel. “I don’t need to. I have string!”
O’Neill snorted, ripping the broken lace from his boot and threading in the temporary replacement. “Guess I know who to ask if I ever need string.”
The End
Daniel swallowed the last of the energy bar he’d been eating and gave O’Neill a questioning look. “What’s up?”
“My bootlace broke, and I don’t have a spare set. You don’t happen to…?” O’Neill trailed off hopefully. “I’d ask Carter, if she was here, but…” Once again, he trailed off; as soon as they’d arrived, he and Daniel had headed one way to scout out the area while Carter and Teal’c had gone in the opposite direction. They were in communication via their radios, but that wouldn’t solve his current predicament.
Shoving the empty snack wrapper in his pocket, Daniel shook his head. “No, sorry. I’ve got this though.” Digging in his pack, he pulled out a ball of string, offering it to O’Neill.
“You don’t carry spare bootlaces, but you’ve got a whole-ass ball of string?”
“You don’t have bootlaces either,” Daniel pointed out. “String, on the other hand, is useful for all kinds of things. No archaeologist would be caught dead out in the field without a ball of string. We use it to mark out grids during a dig, tie things together for carrying, and when necessary, to replace broken laces.” He grinned. “I recommend using it double for extra strength.”
“Right.” O’Neill took out his belt knife, cut a length of string, and folded it in half.
“Knot both ends. Makes threading it through the lace holes easier.”
“You’ve done this before.”
“Oh yes, many times,” Daniel assured him.
“Because you don’t keep a spare set of bootlaces in your pack.”
That drew another grin from Daniel. “I don’t need to. I have string!”
O’Neill snorted, ripping the broken lace from his boot and threading in the temporary replacement. “Guess I know who to ask if I ever need string.”
The End
