Title: Visitors and Fish
Rating: PG-13, because under all that pretension and fabric, they really do have rather wicked senses of humor….
It’s an AU. There is no timeline! But it follows my story A Maneuvering Busi
Judging from what follows, it’s probably a very good
thing that these characters don’t belong to me. God only knows what atrocities
I’d inflict upon th
Author’s Note: Okay, so in case you missed it, earlier this year I somehow found myself writing a really crazy story where the SG-1 people kind of went all…period piece on me. And now, apparently, I’m doing it again. I’m not entirely sure that there’s a justification for inflicting more highly ridiculous Austen-ized Stargate fic upon the world. Still, I have to admit that despite its insanity (which I freely admit to), I love Gateshire quite a bit, and writing about it and our characters in such a wacky scenario is horribly addicting. Which is how you all have found yourselves reading this—I simply couldn’t stop myself. So, my apologies.
prompt I used for this was, “Using a storage closet for something other than
its intended purpose, but not for the standard fandom purpose of clandestine
romantic liaisons.” Needless to say, it caused me a bit of worry, seeing as
I’ve written not one, but two
previous fics centered around
the various happenings in storage closets. But apparently, there are some ideas
that just never outlive their useful
Also? familyarchives saved this fic. It was a different (and I think much less generally adorable) story before she let me ramble at her. So, thank you for that, m’dear. kate98, caroly_214, and control_freak80 beta’d and they’re lovely for doing it because as you can imagine, beta-reading a story like this is quite the task.
Colonel Jack O’Neill was entirely aware that his current position was more than a little unusual. After all, it wasn’t everyday that you came across a man who was reduced to hiding in his own storage cupboard. In his opinion, this is what listening to the rules of polite society brought one to—getting covered in dust while wedged between a crate of currant preserves and a somewhat ridiculously large jar of pickles.
general, Jack had very few lofty ambitions in life. Being retired after an extr
troubles had begun with the unexpected arrival of an unwanted houseguest—though
admittedly, other than Teal’c, Jack tended to view most interlopers as such. The
young man, who called himself Jonas Quinn, claimed to be a distant cousin of
O’Neill’s several times r
Unfortunately, Jonas had recently found himself in somewhat difficult circumstances. Being the eldest son of a fairly wealthy family, he had always been given every luxury in living and education. However, that liberality had returned to haunt his family when the somewhat earnest young man had gone so far as to express pro-American sentiments during a local ball.
the weight of the scandal heavily, Jonas had immediately been expelled from all
good society in his village, and after his parents safely and irrevocably settled
the family fortune upon Jonas’s younger brother, they had strongly suggested he
search out Jack O’Neill. After all, the Colonel was the only other m
O’Neill thought the circumstances surrounding his young relation’s banishment
so ridiculous (and because his wife had been in the room and would have d
Unfortunately, as it turned out, there was very little a formally educated young man with no money nor useful connections was qualified to do.
Still, Jack was certain he could overcome this particular obstacle given time. Time, however, was proving an issue. Not that Jonas thought there was any particular rush, but Jack knew if a position could not be found soon, bloodshed might soon follow.
turned out, Jonas had seen his admittance into the house as a sign of fellow
feeling, and was now continually seeking him out in an effort to further
improve the acquaintance between th
this had led to Jack’s current position, uncomfortably ensconced in his own
storage cupboard in what he suspected was a somewhat desperate att
When the door to the cupboard swung open and the sounds of another person rummaging around could be heard, he realized that it was not only desperate, but ultimately futile.
to be discovered any moment, Jack was surprised when the door merely swung shut
once again—with the newest interloper inside. From his vantage point, he could
not make out the figure that had entered, but over the sounds of shuffling and
the clamor of a crate falling to the ground, he heard a f
whispered into the dark
“Jack?” his wife responded, sounding equally flabbergasted with his presence. “What are you doing in here?”
Because the response ‘hiding from my entirely too enthusiastic relative’ sounded a bit ridiculous, Jack quickly came up with another. “Doing inventory of our currant preserves. Cook mentioned we might be running a bit low.”
Admittedly, he wasn’t sure that his excuse had been any better than the truth.
Listening to his wife’s laughter, he could tell it hadn’t mattered—she hadn’t believed him anyway. “Jack, you don’t even like currant preserves. You couldn’t think of a better story than that?”
“I wasn’t expecting to have to come up with a story at all,” he pointed out. “It’s not as though there’s much cause for conversation in storage cupboards.”
She managed to find him in the dark and easily slid her arms around his waist. “You couldn’t have just told me that you were hiding from Jonas?”
He shuffled closer, ducking his face into her neck. “I prefer to think of it as a strategic withdrawal.”
“Ah, of course,” she allowed. “My mistake.”
Jack got the distinct impression that his wife was merely humoring him. Luckily, he was in general too besotted with her to mind much. “What about you?”
“Oh, I’m hiding from Dr. McKay.”
If Jack had even in passing thought of Jonas as an unwelcome guest, then he wasn’t certain that there was a word for Rodney McKay’s presence in his household. Previously a famed scientist in London, the past months had seen a considerable decline in the general confidence placed in his scientific findings, thanks to the repeated publications of a widely unknown entity—one ‘S. O’Neill.’ While the articles published from this anonymous mind were brilliant, they also tended to clash with some of Dr. McKay’s own long-standing theories about physics.
Enraged by both the decline in his visibility as the leading scientific mind in Britain and what he perceived to be the egotistical and often fallacious assumptions made by his invisible competitor, Dr. McKay had set about finding the reclusive fellow scientist and proving him a fraud. This of course, had led him right to Jack O’Neill’s doorstep.
arrival, the impudent little man had d
came to the current state of affairs. Dr. McKay was d
That had been nearly a week ago. True to his word, the scientist refused to leave, and Samantha in turn refused to give him the satisfaction of granting his desire to confront his rival, instead preferring to toy with him. And while Jack O’Neill loved his wife’s occasionally devious nature (it was, in fact, one of the many reasons he had married her), he couldn’t help but wonder if or when the charade would end and they would be able to return to their blissfully peaceful existence.
Of course, with Jonas in the house as well, Dr. McKay’s presence was just an added annoyance.
“What has Dr. McKay done now?” Jack asked.
discovered that the conservatory had been converted into a laboratory and is proceeding
to rant about how he knew Mr. S. O’Neill was here all along and he d
“And you chose the storage cupboard?”
hear her amus
couldn’t help but chuckle at that, drawing her a little closer. “A noble
thought indeed. I haven’t seen any l
“That’s a shame.”
“Absolutely. However, as long as we’re here….” He pulled his wife closer.
“What exactly are you insinuating, Jack O’Neill?” was her outraged response—though he suspected that the outrage was more than a little exaggerated.
Before he could further elaborate on his decidedly shocking thoughts, the door to the storage cupboard once again swung open, revealing Teal’c standing in the doorway.
Jack was beginning to regret the allowance of Teal’c as an exception to the rule about unwanted visitors. “Teal’c, if you’re going to interrupt, you may as well come in. Make certain to shut the door behind you.”
bowed his head and did so, shutting th
“What does Walter want now?” While Walter was one of the most efficient servants on the staff of Cheyenne Manor, he was also the most…persistent.
“I did not inquire.”
“Of course not,” Jack muttered—right before the door opened yet again. “Oh, for God’s sake, what now?”
familiar voice asked into the dark
Laughing helplessly into his wife’s neck and wondering what on earth their latest interloper could want, Jack replied, “Daniel?”
“Jack! There you are.”
had always had a bit of a talent for drawing things out unnecessarily. “So it
By now, Daniel had completely entered the cupboard and shut the door without a second thought, taking little notice of their surroundings. “Oh, I wanted to tell you that I was talking to Jonas earlier, and I have an idea.”
“Fantastic,” Jack muttered.
Somehow, Sam maneuvered around her skirts and laid a powerful kick on his shin. Letting out a yelp and nursing the new bruise on his leg, Jack couldn’t help but think that yes, he really did love his wife. “What’s your idea, Daniel?” she asked.
“Sam? I didn’t know you were in here. Wait. Why are you in here?”
“It’s a long story.”
before Daniel could ask her to tell it, the door opened once again. By now,
Jack was almost accustomed to the blinding light that accompanied a new arrival
in their strange little congregation. He even went so far as to shuffle
backwards into the wall a little in the att
from the sounds of crashing and a decidedly f
“My apologies, Janet Fraiser. I did not move quickly enough to avoid our collision.”
right, I’m fine…” Janet’s voice trailed off, glancing at all of th
you don’t, would you mind shutting the door?” Jack asked. After all, even
though the current arrang
“Fine, but I’m lighting a candle first. I won’t be able to see what I came in here for otherwise.”
“And what, pray tell, was that?”
“I’ve run out of a few herbs, and I know Sam keeps a stock around here somewhere.”
Sam pulled away from him just then, and while Jack managed to suppress the desire to protest, he was decidedly unhappy with the new state of affairs. “I’ve a few back here, Janet. What do you need?”
Jack was almost expecting the door to open before she could answer. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily), he wasn’t disappointed.
“Mr. Teal’c!” exclaimed the new arrival upon opening the door.
“Greetings, Walter Harriman.”
“Have you found Colonel O’Neill?”
“Indeed, I located O’Neill in the back of this cupboard some time ago. However, as you neglected to instruct me on what to do once this task was accomplished, I thought it best to await further instruction.”
Jack had to stifle a snicker. It was sometimes easy to forget that the often stoic foreign man had his own impressively devious mind.
He sighed. “Yes, Walter?”
“I have a few papers that require your signature.”
“Also, I feel compelled to mention that while I encourage you to entertain company, storage cupboards are not typically considered the best venue. Would you like for me to arrange for tea to be served in the parlor?”
that it didn’t se
“I suppose you should, Walter. And pass me those documents to sign.”
It was probably inevitable that by the time the papers reached Daniel, disaster was imminent. So when Daniel reached back to pass the documents to Sam through some suspiciously unstable shelves, Jack only had enough time to wince and pull Sam out of the way of the falling jars, which promptly smashed on top of the now useless documents.
foiling one of Walter’s few successes in getting his
Choking a bit around her words, Janet’s voice asked, “Dear God, what is that?”
Sam buried her face in Jack’s chest in an att
“Bad pickled herring,” Jack muttered.
“Who would bother to pickle bad fish?” a new voice wondered aloud.
Wait a moment. That had sounded suspiciously like… “Jonas?”
That’s what he had thought. So much for his brilliant plan. “When did you get here?”
“Oh, I came in with Mr. Harriman, Colonel.”
He should have guessed. “Walter!”
these days, r
“I’ll make a note of it, sir.”
Jack had the sinking suspicion that this was one order that would manage to slip Walter’s mind.
“Oh, there’s certainly no need for that, Colonel. I think this is a great game you’re all playing. May I ask what happens next?”
“That man is still here? For heaven’s sake, Sam, why don’t you just…?” Janet started.
“I don’t want to give him the satisfaction,” Sam replied in a rather annoyed tone. “He’s just so…so…so….”
Before they could find out what exactly Dr. McKay was, they were presented with the man himself, who so abruptly opened the door that Jonas and Walter proceeded to tumble into the hallway.
“You found us!” Jonas exclaimed in a delighted voice.
“Found you? You’re all insane!” Dr. McKay proclaimed as they began filing out of the cupboard. “Insisting scientists who obviously live here don’t and flocking into cupboards for secret meetings and…eating pickled fish?” He backed away, hands now gesturing at a rather alarming pace. “I give up! Talking to S. O’Neill isn’t worth this much trouble!”
it looked like they would be ridding th
A dangerous glint came into his wife’s eye, and Jack prepared himself for the very real possibility of having to shield Daniel from her extracting a painful vengeance. Luckily, before she could begin, McKay interrupted.
“You? You’re S. O’Neill?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes,” she snapped, turning her wrath onto a more legitimate recipient. “If you hadn’t been so amazingly close-minded, you would have discerned that days ago. Now if you would be so kind as to leave our house at your earliest convenience, we would appreciate it.”
Jack’s heart soared. At least one probl
him wish that he could just grab his wife and drag her back into that storage
closet. Unfortunately, the odious stink of the bad herring still lingered in
his nostrils—he couldn’t quite face subjecting th
She shot him a sympathetic look. “I absolutely agree. However….”
Purposely lagging even further behind their company, Samantha smiled at him. “However, there’s a door leading down to the wine cellar right around the corner.”
It was official—the smartest thing Colonel Jack O’Neill had ever done was marry a genius.
her hand, he pulled her down the hall and away from their guests, her laughter