foothold situation
by greensilver
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“This town has been taken over by the Goa’uld,” Daniel said, sounding a little desperate.
Jack evidently hadn’t been prepared for that revelation; his fingers clenched over the handle of the gas pump, emptying an additional five dollars of premium unleaded into his truck.
“Jack.” Daniel made a grab for the pump, splattering Jack’s jeans with drops of gasoline as he swung the nozzle away from the truck. “Listen. This town-”
“I heard you, Daniel! Would you keep your voice down?” Jack batted at the front of his jeans, stabbing a finger in the direction of the cab. “Get in. We’ll talk on the road.” He screwed the gas cap back on, hopped into the drivers’ seat as casually possible, and didn’t pause to look at Daniel until they were a good mile away from the gas station.
“What,” Jack said, “what exactly is it – that makes you think this place has been taken over?” He made a vague gesture with one hand; the other remained white-knuckled around the steering wheel. “Glowing eyes, hand devices, what?”
Daniel stared at him in complete silence, eyebrows climbing toward his hairline.
“Daniel?” Jack’s fingers drummed out a rapid, anxious beat on the wheel. “Ah, dammit, Daniel-”
“There’s no Starbucks here,” Daniel said, words nearly inaudible.
Jack’s fingers stilled; for a moment, the only sound was road noise. Then Jack twisted in his chair, looking relieved and furious all at once. “What?”
“There’s no Starbucks here. Eyes on the road, you’re going to get us killed.” Daniel slouched down in his chair, yanking at the seatbelt with a faint grimace. “There wasn’t any coffee in the gas station, so I asked. Jack, there’s no coffee here.”
“Daniel,” Jack said, and stopped. He gradually eased his grip on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed firmly on the deserted highway that stretched out before them. “This is Minnesota,” he started again, “and not every little bait-and-tackle village is going to have a Starbucks.”
“Not even the gas station, Jack.”
“Would you stop that?” Jack let Daniel’s bemused silence stretch out for a few moments before giving in. “Look, assuming I don’t kill you first, I’ll put coffee on when we get to the cabin.” He lifted a finger. “On one condition.”
“Well, technically that would be two conditions-” Daniel said, cutting himself off when Jack started to turn his way. “What condition?”
“When we get back to base,” Jack said, “restrain yourself from declaring a foothold situation if the coffee pot is empty. That’s an order.”
“I’ve never seen you stock anything but freeze-dried,” Daniel muttered. “I’m not making any promises.”
“At least I have a coffee maker.”
“Yes, and the two of you are probably contemporaries.”
“If my coffee maker and I are too old for you,” Jack said, glaring at Daniel for emphasis, “you can always go without.”
Daniel smiled at him, a little too sweetly. “I’m not that much of a masochist.”
Jack gave him a smug smile in return. “I didn’t think so.”
“I like coffee too much for that,” Daniel said. “I’ll settle.”
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