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femslash_fluffTitle: Food for Thought
Author: kimly
Challenge: [55] Sam/Janet, commissary, coffee cake
Challenger:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ncruuk
Fandom: SG-1
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~690
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't profit, only fluff
Spoilers: None – but Heroes never happened in my playground
Archiving: Only with the author's permission
Jack O’Neill leaned against a support pole in the base commissary. A cup of coffee was clutched in one hand from which he idly drank from when not frowning. For the life of him, he could not understand what was going on between his 2IC and the base CMO.
They sat across from each other at the end of a table. Each had a cup of coffee meticulously prepared and subsequently ignored off to the side. An overturned tray rested between them; a piece of coffee cake placed just so. He watched as Carter fussed with its placement until Frasier stilled her hands with her own.
As he watched, Carter took a jack knife from her pocket and sliced off the bottom off Frasier’s identical dessert. A couple of cuts to the edges to change its shape and the slice was positioned against the original piece on the tray.
The piece was moved and shortened and rounded in turn as the pair discussed and possibly argued about where on the tray the slice should rest. Each new placement required Carter to take a new thin slice from the chunk of coffee cake. Failed attempts were scraped from the tray and piled on a discarded plate.
As Carter shaved off an edge and cleaned up the tray, Frasier acquired two more plates of cake and set them beside her tablemate.
From across the room, O’Neill watched as the two women spoke animatedly with occasional gestures to and about the sculpture on the tray. The knife returned and Carter removed a cube shaped portion from one of the undecimated pieces of coffee cake. When she was satisfied it was the exact dimensions she required, she proceeded to hollow out the little cube. Task complete, it was placed on top of the carefully proportioned slab.
A heated debate started as Frasier moved the cube to a different location only for Carter to move it back. After several rounds, Frasier grabbed the discarded knife – O’Neill was a step from the pole before realizing she was attacking the initial piece of cake from the tray and not his 2IC – and made a notch in the side of the dessert. He resettled himself against the pole to see what Carter would do.
Frasier then moved the little cube to her initial location. Carter broke out into a large grin as she absorbed whatever point the Doc was making. She nodded enthusiastically and also moved to make more cuts into often manipulated portion of coffee cake.
O’Neill had had enough. He pushed himself off his support and wandered over to the table. “Whatcha doin’, Carter?” he asked. “Hi, Doc,” he added remembering there were two people at the table.
“Planning, Sir,” answered Carter at the same time Frasier responded, “Good afternoon, Colonel.”
Carter neatly notched the adjoining side of the cake square before returning it to the tray.
“Perfect,” Frasier acknowledged. Sam smiled, happy that the outcome was to both their likings. Granted this make a little more work for her in the long run, but the results would be more than worth it.
Left stewing, O’Neill barked. “Carter!”
“Yes, Sir?” she calmly replied, while scraping the various mounds of cake from the upturned tray and onto the discarded dishes. Frasier just grinned behind her coffee cup.
“Carter,” he started again, more composed. “What were you planning?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“New deck for the Frasier household, Sir.”
“New deck? What’s the matter with the old deck, Doc?”
“No room for the hot tub, Colonel,” the doctor explained reasonably.
“…” O’Neill just stared at them for a moment before shaking himself back into the present. “Why cake, Carter?”
“Visual aids, Sir,” Carter answered as she and Frasier moved to head out.
“Excuse us, Sir,” the Doctor asked as she slipped behind him.
O’Neill sat heavily into the chair Carter had just vacated. “I’ll never understand those two,” he murmured to himself. He only caught snippets of their conversation as the duo walk away. But he really didn’t need the images ‘new door from bedroom’ exploded behind his eyes when combined with the aforementioned ‘hot tub’.
~fin~
Author: kimly
Challenge: [55] Sam/Janet, commissary, coffee cake
Challenger:
ncruukFandom: SG-1
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~690
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't profit, only fluff
Spoilers: None – but Heroes never happened in my playground
Archiving: Only with the author's permission
Jack O’Neill leaned against a support pole in the base commissary. A cup of coffee was clutched in one hand from which he idly drank from when not frowning. For the life of him, he could not understand what was going on between his 2IC and the base CMO.
They sat across from each other at the end of a table. Each had a cup of coffee meticulously prepared and subsequently ignored off to the side. An overturned tray rested between them; a piece of coffee cake placed just so. He watched as Carter fussed with its placement until Frasier stilled her hands with her own.
As he watched, Carter took a jack knife from her pocket and sliced off the bottom off Frasier’s identical dessert. A couple of cuts to the edges to change its shape and the slice was positioned against the original piece on the tray.
The piece was moved and shortened and rounded in turn as the pair discussed and possibly argued about where on the tray the slice should rest. Each new placement required Carter to take a new thin slice from the chunk of coffee cake. Failed attempts were scraped from the tray and piled on a discarded plate.
As Carter shaved off an edge and cleaned up the tray, Frasier acquired two more plates of cake and set them beside her tablemate.
From across the room, O’Neill watched as the two women spoke animatedly with occasional gestures to and about the sculpture on the tray. The knife returned and Carter removed a cube shaped portion from one of the undecimated pieces of coffee cake. When she was satisfied it was the exact dimensions she required, she proceeded to hollow out the little cube. Task complete, it was placed on top of the carefully proportioned slab.
A heated debate started as Frasier moved the cube to a different location only for Carter to move it back. After several rounds, Frasier grabbed the discarded knife – O’Neill was a step from the pole before realizing she was attacking the initial piece of cake from the tray and not his 2IC – and made a notch in the side of the dessert. He resettled himself against the pole to see what Carter would do.
Frasier then moved the little cube to her initial location. Carter broke out into a large grin as she absorbed whatever point the Doc was making. She nodded enthusiastically and also moved to make more cuts into often manipulated portion of coffee cake.
O’Neill had had enough. He pushed himself off his support and wandered over to the table. “Whatcha doin’, Carter?” he asked. “Hi, Doc,” he added remembering there were two people at the table.
“Planning, Sir,” answered Carter at the same time Frasier responded, “Good afternoon, Colonel.”
Carter neatly notched the adjoining side of the cake square before returning it to the tray.
“Perfect,” Frasier acknowledged. Sam smiled, happy that the outcome was to both their likings. Granted this make a little more work for her in the long run, but the results would be more than worth it.
Left stewing, O’Neill barked. “Carter!”
“Yes, Sir?” she calmly replied, while scraping the various mounds of cake from the upturned tray and onto the discarded dishes. Frasier just grinned behind her coffee cup.
“Carter,” he started again, more composed. “What were you planning?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“New deck for the Frasier household, Sir.”
“New deck? What’s the matter with the old deck, Doc?”
“No room for the hot tub, Colonel,” the doctor explained reasonably.
“…” O’Neill just stared at them for a moment before shaking himself back into the present. “Why cake, Carter?”
“Visual aids, Sir,” Carter answered as she and Frasier moved to head out.
“Excuse us, Sir,” the Doctor asked as she slipped behind him.
O’Neill sat heavily into the chair Carter had just vacated. “I’ll never understand those two,” he murmured to himself. He only caught snippets of their conversation as the duo walk away. But he really didn’t need the images ‘new door from bedroom’ exploded behind his eyes when combined with the aforementioned ‘hot tub’.
~fin~
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