Just getting around to archiving these comment fics...

And We're Walking!
(Written for annienau08, posted here.)

Walter was instantly suspicious when the new girl slid into the seat opposite him, in the canteen. Oh, sure, she could be just looking for a place to sit (if the room wasn't half empty), or a friendly chat (if he'd ever spoken to her before), but he was fairly sure what this was all about. Once they heard about him, once they'd listened to the gossip or the rumours or the speculation (or the facts), they all came to find him.

"Hi!" she said, quite obnoxiously perky, despite the usual drab and hideously unflattering uniform. "I'm Darla!"

"Yeah," he said, his voice heavy with suspicious enquiry. He knew her name already. He knew every new arrival. It was part of his job.

"I just got here!" She actually tossed her hair over her shoulder, and then tried to look sly. Dear god. "Scuttlebutt tells me that you're the man to speak to."

Walter sighed. Yep. He'd known it. "About what?"

Darla leaned forward, eagerly, and got straight to the point. "What were they like?"

Well. In his heart of hearts, Walter had to admit that he kind of loved this. Because despite all the years, and all the changes, deep down, he knew he could still say that he'd been one of the originals. He'd seen it all, from black holes to alien hordes, bombs and celebrations and mass rescues and funerals. And even though he was merely a securi... an operations tech advisor now, he still knew: he'd been there. "Well, when he first arrived, Colonel O'Neill was—"

"Oh, not them!" said Darla, waving a hand dismissively. Walter stopped short, and gaped. Darla leaned her chin in her hands, and smiled, her eyes focusing on some distant, dreamy vision. "SG-6," she breathed, reverently.

---

The Magic Of Myth
(Written for aurora_novarum, posted here.)

"Do you not see it, O'Neill?"

Jack was trying. Honestly he was. But he just couldn't see Darth Vader.

It wasn't so much the slightly pleading tone – it was the fact that it was coming from a 6'3, 190-pound, 107-year-old Jaffa, whom he would have unhesitatingly backed against Vader in a fair fight. It was impossible to say no to that, which was how he'd ended up here, at the Washington National Cathedral, trying to see one tiny gargoyle in the shape of Teal'c's favourite fictional villain.

"There – between the two arches." Teal'c pointed, and Jack squinted. "At the bottom of the gablet."

"Okay, no, that's where I draw the line," snapped Jack, levelling a steady glare at Teal'c. "The only thing I'm seeing here is a steadily rising bill from my chiropractor." Teal'c looked at him. "I'm an old man, T. I sit on my ass all day, and my back aches. I don't want to stare at this goddamn church any more, okay?" Teal'c continued to look, patently not buying it. "I need a coffee." Teal'c looked some more. "Okay, five more minutes, but that's absolutely it. I'm bored out of my skull."

Teal'c turned serenely back to the cathedral, and gazed upwards, apparently having no problems seeing the tiny gargoyle he'd dragged Jack down here to visit – and on his weekend off, too. Jack sighed, and cursed Daniel for the umpteenth time for giving Teal'c that damn guidebook. Couldn't he have given Teal'c a book of – of microbreweries, or something?

Hmm, now that was a thought. Maybe for next Christmas.

At last Teal'c dropped his head, and followed Jack out, wearing a look that said that, cathedral or not, he'd certainly been to a very spiritual place. Jack rubbed his hands, glad to be on the move at last. "Okay, where to next?" he asked, fully expecting Teal'c to drag him – oh so reluctantly, of course – to an IHoP, Krispy Kremes, or similar place for the worshipping of empty calories.

"The Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum," said Teal'c, surprising Jack.

Jack thought about this as they got into his car. "Okaaaay," he said. "Doesn't sound too awful." In fact, although he'd never admit it, he'd been meaning to go there since he came to Washington. He'd not yet found the time. Galactic emergencies, interspecies diplomatic crises, stern instructions from his secretary to finish reading his memos - that sort of thing.

"Indeed. I would like to see an exhibition there," said Teal'c, sounding keen. A little too keen. Jack was beginning to get a bad feeling about this... "It is called 'Star Wars: The Magic Of Myth'."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud-!"

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And go here for Aurora's awesome sequel of awesomeness.