Title: Before The World Was Young
Author: Pepper
Fandom(s): Stargate SG-1
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 438
Featured Character(s): Jack, Daniel, Sam
Pairing(s): Moebius Jack/Sam
Summary: "Some people in this tent actually like deserts," grumbled Daniel.
A/N: Please, RDA, please don't do the accent.

I wrote this before NaNo, and forgot to post it. Since NaNo, all I can seem to write are snippets, to the point where I'm tempted to just post the snippets and give up any pretense that I'll ever write the surrounding story.

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"But I'm so BORED. Can't we go someplace else? Someplace..." Jack waved an all-encompassing arm, nearly knocking over Daniel's water jug, "that's not a desert?"

"Some people in this tent actually like deserts," grumbled Daniel, doing his best to ignore him. Jack had been harping on the same subject for the last several days, until Daniel was about ready to beg Sam to let him go see the Cubs win the World Series, if only for some peace and quiet. Screw the integrity of the timeline; Daniel was trying to write.

"Ireland. How about Ireland? There'll be people there, right? And I've always wanted to visit the old home country, to be sure, to be sure."

Daniel winced. He'd never understand how someone who'd claimed, one very boozy St Patrick's Day, to bleed in forty shades of green could be so bad at pulling off an Irish accent. People on other planets had a more authentic Irish accent than Jack. "God save Ireland."

"And, you know," added Jack, sounding a little aggrieved, "maybe while I'm there, I can talk to lots of people in my Irish accent - which, by the way, is extremely authentic - and it'll catch on, and then no one will be able to mock me."

---

"And then he threw me out," said Jack, mournfully.

"Oh?" said Sam, absently, as she fiddled with the controls of the time ship.

"He said I couldn't argue that my accent was authentic in one breath, and threaten to infect - infect! - poor, defenceless Neolithic Ireland with my version in another."

"Did he?"

"Yeah. And he said I should never have been allowed to rampage across history. And then he implied that the Dark Ages might be my fault!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah." Jack was getting the impression that Sam wasn't really listening. "Daniel's a big meanie," he added, half-heartedly.

"Mmm."

Sam swiped back a sweaty lock of hair from her face, and in all honesty, he was losing interest in his own complaints, too. It was hard to concentrate on feeling thwarted when her cheeks were flushed pink with the heat in this tiny tin can of a ship and she was frowning intently, completely unaware of the soot smut on her forehead, up to her elbows in technology so far beyond him he couldn't even describe it. Noticing the silence at last, she glanced back, eyebrows appearing above the rims of her ridiculous, adorable glasses.

She was so hot.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yes?"

"Wanna skip history, geography, and shop class, and go brush up on some biology?"

It was a terrible line. But Sam smiled anyway.

---

END.