Title: Stage Management
Author: Pepper
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 580
Featured Character(s): Daniel, Jack, Sam
Pairing(s): Sam/Jack
Summary: Smooth, Jack. Very smooth.
A/N: holdouttrout, and I quote: "*pictures tall, handsome colonel sneaking around the base stealing lightbulbs* You should write that one next. Daniel should be involved." I spent most of today at work with nothing to do but work on a few ancient WIPs (and then most of this evening asleep. WTF?). These are not necessarily following a linear timeline. *shrugs*

1: Out Go The Lights
2: Actions Speak Louder
3: It's Closet Time
4: Stage Management

---

"Jack, what're you doing?"

Jack froze, caught in the act, with one hand on the lightbulb. And then quickly unfroze with a yelp, when the heat from the bulb made itself known to his fingers. "Ow! Dammit, Daniel!"

"What did I do?" protested Daniel. He frowned at Jack. "And you didn't answer my question."

Jack looked quickly around the closet. "I was just looking for some scalpels," he said smoothly, his eye lighting on the nearest box.

"No you weren't," said Daniel, in what Jack considered his deliberately irritating tone. "You were taking out the lightbulb."

Jack gave him a glare. "So why the hell are you asking?"

"Why are you stealing the lightbulb?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "To make the closet dark, Daniel." Honestly, didn't Daniel have anything better to do but ask silly questions?

"Why not just switch off the..." Daniel trailed off as he realised there was no switch. He ducked his head around the back of the door. No switch there, either. "Huh."

"Exactly," said Jack. "Now if you'll excuse me..."

"Why do you want the closet to be dark?"

Jack sighed, feeling put-upon. Sometimes, having scientists was like having five-year-olds. Why... why... why...? "Daniel. Do you really want to know?"

Daniel looked thoughtful – and then enlightened. "Oh! Practical joke." He nodded. "Okay, plausible deniability. Don't tell me."

"Exactly." Daniel turned to go, but just then, Jack had an idea. "Hey, Daniel, wait a sec..."

---

"Daniel?"

Daniel, caught in the act, yelped as his sleeve slipped away and his fingers made contact with the bare lightbulb. "Ow!" He stuck his fingers in his mouth, and turned to look reproachfully at Sam. "Whamigoogoogatvor?"

Sam gave him a long, slow look. "What're you up to, Daniel?" she asked, patiently.

Daniel looked shifty. "Whamagoofinkam-"

"Don't speak with your mouth full." Wow, where had that tone come from?

Daniel let go of his stinging fingers. "What makes you think I'm up to something?" Sam let her eyes range slowly from him, to the closet just down the hall from her lab that he was standing in, to the lightbulb she'd caught him trying to remove, and back to him again. Daniel sighed. "It's Jack's fault," he said.

Sam frowned. "Why did the Colonel ask you to..." she began, and then her eyes flew to the lightbulb. And a metaphorical lightbulb went off in her head. Her eyes widened, and she looked quickly at Daniel. Fortunately, he didn't seem to have been clued in. He shrugged.

"I dunno – some practical joke, no doubt. He promised I'd be safe if I helped him out with this, but I'm going to steer clear of here for the next few days, anyway. You should, too. And of the one near the women's toilets on 23, and the one opposite the lifts on 18."

Sam nodded slowly. "Uh, yeah," she murmured. "Steer clear. Yeah. That's... a good idea. I wouldn't want to get caught in one of the Colonel's... practical jokes." She shook her head, to clear it. "Um. Wait there a minute." She disappeared, and returned brandishing a heat-proof glove from her lab. "Try that."

"Oh, thanks, Sam!" said Daniel, brightly, and quickly unscrewed the bulb, hiding it at the back of a shelf behind half a dozen boxes of replacement mop-heads. "Thanks. And Jack told me not to get caught, so don't tell him you know."

Sam smiled warmly at Daniel. "Oh, I won't," she assured him. "Forewarned is forearmed, after all."

---

END.