"General, do I have to?"
Daniel was vastly amused. Jonathon 'Jack' O'Neill, full-bird USAF colonel and allegedly all grown up, no, make that definitely all grown up (he'd given ample proof of that last night), was whining like a recalcitrant ten year old.
"Yes, Colonel, I'm afraid you do."
General Hammond was in 'fatherly, but firm' mode. Jack was beginning to look mulish. Daniel settled back against the wall, arms folded, and prepared to watch the developing contest with interest.
"It would really be far better if you were to do it. You know, senior officer on the base and all. It would be far better for morale. They need to know that you care." Jack tapped his closed fist over the general location of his heart.
Hammond shook his head regretfully as he pretended to consider it.
"Well, you may have a point there. But the fact remains that I can't be in two places at once. And I'm now committed to be elsewhere."
Score one to the General. Jack's eyes took on a slightly strained expression, but he rallied gamely.
"Send Kovacek if you've got another engagement. I should really be here, just in case of emergency. Besides, he'd be much better at it. More diplomatic."
Hammond pursed his lips. "Oh, I think the skeleton staff can manage for a couple of hours, Jack, it's not a big deal. It's not as if you'll be off base, strictly speaking. You'll be on hand to deal with anything urgent that comes up, as will I. And in fact, Major Kovacek has already agreed to act as 2IC for that couple of hours to free you up."
Jack muttered evilly under his breath. Daniel was just close enough to him to work out that the words 'low', 'cunning' and 'bastard' figured in there somewhere. Jack caught Hammond's hardening expression and switched tacks.
"Sir, I really don't feel I'm the best man for the job. You know me - bluff military man. Austere, forbidding--"
"Marshmallow when it comes to kids," Daniel put in and received a glare for his pains as Jack's voice rose to drown his out.
"Forbidding," Jack repeated heavily. "Too tall. Too thin. I'll just scare 'em. You really need someone more approachable for this kind of job."
"Then you'll just have to be approachable, Colonel. I'm sure you'll manage. Call on your special training and play the role."
Jack looked put out. "Sir, my 'special training' mostly involved lessons in being the total opposite of 'approachable' - it certainly didn't equip me for this."
"Good point," Daniel murmured, then shrugged as he found himself on the receiving end of his own hard stare from the General. "Sorry," he added, and subsided.
Jack went back on the offensive. "If you don't mind me asking, what is this other engagement you have anyway?"
Hammond looked - not smug, exactly, but definitely pleased with himself. Relieved, even. "I've been invited to a cocktail party with the NORAD contingent upstairs."
Jack's eyes widened. "And you'd blow this off for that?" The 'how can you be so heartless?' tag to this statement wasn't said out loud, but hung in the air between them nevertheless.
Hammond pursed his lips, rose above it and shook his head with a fine display of regret. "I don't see that I have a choice. Now you know as well as I do, Jack, which of the two I'd rather go to. But I really don't have a leg to stand on. The cocktail party was arranged after the kids' Costume Party it's true, but I have to go fly the flag. All the top brass will be there. I really can't send anyone else to deputise."
"Then maybe we should reschedule?"
Hammond's eyebrows rose. "I can't ask NORAD to reschedule to suit the SGC's requirements."
Daniel smothered a grin. Hammond could do 'clueless' really very well when the circumstances demanded - almost as well as Jack could, and that was saying something. He settled himself more comfortably against the wall: this tussle was shaping up to be a good one, and he was determined to enjoy it to the max.
Jack was looking increasingly desperate. Daniel noted it and almost felt the first stirrings of sympathy - almost. "No, Sir, you can't. But you could reschedule the Costume Party and competition."
Hammond began to shake his head before Jack had finished speaking.
"I don't see how. It's on the twentieth of December - and you know as well as I do that most of the families have their Christmas leave arrangements in place - starting from the twenty-first. We can't make it any later."
Daniel watched Jack clutching at a straw. "We could have it the day before."
"Hardly. The last of the off-world teams is scheduled to return on the nineteenth. And as far as I remember, they're not due to be back until late evening, Earth time."
Jack consulted the sheaf of papers in his hands. "Ah, that team would be... damn," he muttered, "SGs 2 and 6. And Amy Griff is probably one of the contestants." He continued in a stronger voice, stabbing at the schedule in his hand with a forefinger, "What about here? We have a free slot on, uh, the twelfth." He looked up triumphantly. "The twelfth would be fine. No teams due to be off world at all and only a budget meeting scheduled for the morning. Just think how refreshing a change of pace in the afternoon would be. And it's a Friday, so no worries about school the next day."
"And move the whole shindig up more than a week? Leaving only one week to go? I don't think so, there'd be a riot if we cut down the preparation time that much. Besides, you know how these budget meetings tend to drag on once the bean counters get their teeth into things."
Jack saw an opportunity and pounced. "The budget meeting would have to be wound up quickly if you had an afternoon engagement. It would be just the thing to stop it dragging on."
Again, a regretful shake of the head. "Since when did the Pentagon bean counters take any notice of base personnel's private lives? No, Colonel, that one won't fly either. I think you're just going to have to bite the bullet on this one. In my absence on official business, you're going to have to be the one to do the judging for the Best Costume contest at the party, and on the date already set - otherwise the contest will have to be cancelled. I'm sure you'll rise to the challenge and do your usual excellent job," Hammond said and briskly turned away. He played his trump card over his shoulder as he went. "I know how much you'd hate to disappoint the kids - and I know how much Tessa and Kayla are already looking forward to this, now that they're able to enter for the first time seeing as I won't be judging this year."
Jack smiled wanly as he finally recognised defeat. "Oh yeah. Nothing but a Goa'uld incursion could dampen my enthusiasm, Sir." He fired off a sloppy salute to Hammond's retreating back. "And a Merry Christmas to you too, General."
Daniel pushed himself away from the wall and fell into step beside Jack as he turned in the direction of his office. Jack was scowling and grumbling softly every step of the way.
"Cheer up, Jack. How bad can it be? It's a couple of hours out of a lifetime."
"Yeah, but the repercussions will rumble on for a lot longer than that. You know what's gonna happen, it happens every year. My name will be mud, no matter what decision I make. I'll be burned in effigy by all but one of the kids on the base. Or, more likely, by their parents. It all gets very competitive."
"It's a Best Costume contest, for Pete's sake."
"It's a lose/lose situation, Daniel, a poisoned chalice. And this year, I'm gonna be cast as the villain of the piece," Jack said glumly.
"I'm sure it won't be that bad. It's just a bit of fun for the kids," Daniel said firmly.
"A bit of fun that almost started World War III last year, remember? That Petersen kid?"
Daniel frowned as he cast his mind back, and shook his head. "I don't really remember - I managed to av --" he caught himself smoothly, "I wasn't actually there."
"I told ya about it though, didn't I? No? The Petersen kid - you've seen him around, I'd guess: about yay high, and about yay wide too?"
Daniel's brow cleared as the light dawned. "The one who went as a Christmas ornament? Large, round and red?" He grinned. "Good choice, I thought - he can't have needed much work to become very nearly perfectly circular. I heard about the costume. Never heard exactly what happened at the contest though."
Jack's lips quirked. "When you're right, you're right. And what happened was, his mom thought he was a stone cold certainty to win outright. The costume was good too - paper mache job, it musta taken a while. But, as it turned out, a bit over-ambitious: the thing kept slipping down to just beyond the kid's knees and he couldn't walk that well in it. When it came to the stairs, he tripped and fell, and put a pretty big dent in one side of it. Didn't hurt himself, luckily, he was too round to do anything more than roll to a gentle stop up against the wall."
Daniel shrugged. "Okay, so he tripped. So what? Especially since he was okay?"
"The big deal was, when he tripped, Robyn Myers was coming down the stairs right behind him. Robyn Myers went on to win. When Hammond announced the result, Sergeant Petersen got a little... overwrought. Innuendos ensued. Accusations were made. Lieutenant Myers responded in kind. Soon both of them were pissed at Hammond, albeit for different reasons. It took a lot of the zing out of the party: feelings ran high, battle lines were drawn, sides were taken and before you knew it there were two hostile camps, one at either end of the room, muttering at each other and at the few non-coms who were left in the middle. The atmosphere was distinctly frosty. And that's a further complication. The politics of the whole thing. Petersen and Myers were at daggers drawn for months afterwards, long after the kids had forgotten it. The word on the grapevine is that Petersen's pulling out all the stops this year, and after last year, who knows what she's gonna come up with? She's gonna be majorly pissed if the kid doesn't win this time, and everyone else is gonna be majorly pissed if he does."
"So, your choice is fairly straightforward, I'd've thought. You can't let yourself be influenced by past events. Sergeant Petersen is just one individual. Would you rather have one person pissed at you, or all the rest of the base?"
Jack stopped dead and turned to look Daniel square in the eye. "You do realise where Petersen works, don't you?"
"The commissary. So?"
"Have you forgotten what these guys can do to your food if you piss them off severely enough?" Jack said darkly, and shuddered. "You watched that documentary on cable too. The food's bad enough at times, without having someone spitting in it, or worse, lots worse, before it gets to ya."
Daniel shuddered in sympathy - that documentary had been revolting. "Eeeewww. But come on, Jack, can you really, honestly imagine anybody taking this that seriously?"
Jack started walking again as he replied, "Myers did. She only stopped bringing in sandwiches a couple of months ago. I'd probably never be able to eat a hot meal on base again."
"Poor baby. No, seriously," Daniel added hastily as he caught the glare headed in his direction, "I feel for you, I really do. It's a ticklish position to be pushed into. But trust me, it'll be a nine day wonder. I'm sure you're making a lot of fuss about nothing."
Jack draped an arm around Daniel's shoulders.
"I'm glad you feel that way. 'Cause that tells me you won't mind coming with, to watch my six."
Daniel's step faltered and he stiffened.
"Say what?"
"Plan B. Everyone should have a Plan B. You're coming with. Teal'c and Carter too. It's gonna be a team effort."
"Jaaaack. We can't." For the first time, Daniel's amusement with the situation was starting to waver.
"Why not? It's the ideal solution. You're much more diplomatic than I am," Daniel opened his mouth to protest but Jack forestalled him with an upraised hand and a slightly raised voice, "Carter's a lot prettier and Teal'c's bigger. Between us we've got all the bases covered. You act sweet and reasonable with the moms, Carter charms the dads and Teal'c... Teal'c looms. To defuse any potential violence. We all play to our strengths and we should get out in one piece, with no unpleasant after-effects."
Daniel frowned slightly, momentarily distracted from the bigger picture. "You haven't mentioned your own role in this."
Jack waved a hand airily. "Supervision. Command is my thing, and deployment. Tactics. Getting us out alive."
"Minimising the risk of adulterated food?"
"That too."
Daniel burst out laughing. "Sorry, Jack. Nice try, but it ain't gonna happen."
"How d'ya work that out?"
"Lots of over-excited kids aren't my thing."
"Make it your 'thing'. You said yourself, it's only a couple of hours out of a lifetime."
"Nope, sorry. You're on your own with this one."
"Aw, c'mon, Daniel. You can't just hang me out to dry like that. Whatever happened to solidarity, comradeship, supportiveness? 'Sides, I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."
With a judicious purse of his lips, and apparently apropos of nothing, Daniel said thoughtfully, "I wonder how Sam and Teal'c would react to being cast in the respective roles of eye candy and stock heavy in this scenario?"
Jack considered for a moment before he said cheerfully, "Oh, my guess is not quite as negatively as they'd react to the news that I'd discovered who'd started the rumour about Carter being a part-time professional jello wrestler and Teal'c being her agent."
Daniel was aghast. "You wouldn't! That was a complete misunderstanding, a total misinterpretation of what I actually said!"
Jack looked sympathetic. "Yeah, well, I know that. You said what you said in all innocence. But as far as I recall, disembowelment with a soup spoon was mentioned somewhere along the line - and that was only Carter. Teal'c's comments were a tad more direct."
"That's blackmail! It's outrageous!"
Jack's eyebrows rose as he said blandly, "'Blackmail' is such an emotive term, don't ya think? I prefer to think of it as motivational man management. The hallmark of good leadership."
Daniel was officially starting to get alarmed. Now he was finally starting to take this seriously. And his prospects were bleak. Jesus! The kids' Best Costume contest! He was starting to think he might prefer to be marooned, alone, for a long, long time, on a tropical island with only a pet mongoose and a couple of million hungry mosquitoes for company, if even half of what Jack had told him about last year's events and their aftermath were true.
"Daniel?" A sideways glance told him Jack was not going to be deflected. Daniel decided to try needling.
"You're really chickening out of judging a kids' costume competition on your own?"
"Yeahsure yabetcha I am." Jack was unrepentant. "I haven't got this far through a dangerous career and dare I say it, relatively unscathed, without developing a healthy sense of self-preservation."
Okay, so needling wasn't necessarily the best way forward. Maybe wounding Jack's pride would work.
"You can't. Just think how it'd look."
Jack pursed his lips. "I have thought. And the way I look at it, it's sound tactical sense to share the grief. We're a team, Daniel, we stand or fall together. No-one gets left behind."
"Well, yeah - in a dangerous field situation --"
It was a weak rejoinder, and Daniel knew it.
"Trust me, this is a dangerous field situation. And in those circumstances, I just hate splitting my team -- call it force of habit. Call it anal. Call it whatever you damn well please, but for now let's just go find Carter and Teal'c, break the good news to them and get them on board. And Daniel? Think 'jello'. Be convincing."
END