W is for Washington, by Redbyrd (G)
Sep. 22nd, 2024 02:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
goddess47 posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
stargateficrecShow: SG-1
Rec Category: Jack O'Neill
Characters:Pairings: none
Categories: gen, day-in-the-life
Warnings: none
Word Count: 2,054
Author on DW:redbyrd
Author's Website: AO3 Profile
Link: W is for Washington
Author's Summary:
Jack's new job meant he had to move to Washington, DC. And now, here he was, and damnit, he missed saving the world. He could do this, really he could. But it would be so much easier if a Trust agent would pop out from behind a bush and try to shoot him.
Why This Must Be Read:
Another story written for the Alphabet Soup fests. This one for the Jack Alpha-bit Soup.
Jack's promotion to General and head of Homeworld Security means moving to Washington, DC. With that comes a new apartment, new commute to work, and new co-workers, and a new appreciation for the work George Hammond did for them.
Jack O'Neill walked through the last Pentagon checkpoint and headed for the Metro station, his steps deliberately purposeful. He'd covered the stars on his shoulders with a light jacket he really didn't need in the cool spring air. He'd expected to feel their weight at the SGC, where lives rode on his decisions every day. Here, without the faces of the people who depended on him, they were frighteningly ephemeral. The idea that he, of all people, could lose touch, become another Pentagon desk jockey- that made his palms itch for his P-90, or even the slight weight of a zat.
He found his metrocard, swiped it through the kiosk and took the down escalator. His truck was still in transit, along with the rest of his belongings- he had a couple of suitcases which had already been delivered to his new apartment. As a colonel, Jack had tended to disparage the kinds of services that generals got- as a general, it was definitely convenient. Especially since his new position carried with it security requirements that would have made it hard to find a suitable place on his own. He grimaced and scanned the station platform. Since the Trust had grabbed Daniel last year- and that idiot Conrad had taken Carter three years before that- they'd all had to be more alert on their downtime. Which in some ways was a blessing, Jack sometimes thought. After seven-plus years of adrenaline-pumping action offworld, it was awfully hard to just turn all those reflexes off. In fact, Jumper had suggested an official bodyguard which Jack had adamantly refused. But no one in the station was taking the least notice of him.
The train swooshed in and Jack boarded. There were only a half dozen others in the car at this hour. He glanced at his watch. Late, but he should make it to the agent's office with a good forty minutes to spare. The girl- whatsername- Sharon, Sherrie, something like that- had said she'd be there until ten.
He found the office without a lot of trouble, rang the night bell.
Rec Category: Jack O'Neill
Characters:Pairings: none
Categories: gen, day-in-the-life
Warnings: none
Word Count: 2,054
Author on DW:
redbyrdAuthor's Website: AO3 Profile
Link: W is for Washington
Author's Summary:
Jack's new job meant he had to move to Washington, DC. And now, here he was, and damnit, he missed saving the world. He could do this, really he could. But it would be so much easier if a Trust agent would pop out from behind a bush and try to shoot him.
Why This Must Be Read:
Another story written for the Alphabet Soup fests. This one for the Jack Alpha-bit Soup.
Jack's promotion to General and head of Homeworld Security means moving to Washington, DC. With that comes a new apartment, new commute to work, and new co-workers, and a new appreciation for the work George Hammond did for them.
Jack O'Neill walked through the last Pentagon checkpoint and headed for the Metro station, his steps deliberately purposeful. He'd covered the stars on his shoulders with a light jacket he really didn't need in the cool spring air. He'd expected to feel their weight at the SGC, where lives rode on his decisions every day. Here, without the faces of the people who depended on him, they were frighteningly ephemeral. The idea that he, of all people, could lose touch, become another Pentagon desk jockey- that made his palms itch for his P-90, or even the slight weight of a zat.
He found his metrocard, swiped it through the kiosk and took the down escalator. His truck was still in transit, along with the rest of his belongings- he had a couple of suitcases which had already been delivered to his new apartment. As a colonel, Jack had tended to disparage the kinds of services that generals got- as a general, it was definitely convenient. Especially since his new position carried with it security requirements that would have made it hard to find a suitable place on his own. He grimaced and scanned the station platform. Since the Trust had grabbed Daniel last year- and that idiot Conrad had taken Carter three years before that- they'd all had to be more alert on their downtime. Which in some ways was a blessing, Jack sometimes thought. After seven-plus years of adrenaline-pumping action offworld, it was awfully hard to just turn all those reflexes off. In fact, Jumper had suggested an official bodyguard which Jack had adamantly refused. But no one in the station was taking the least notice of him.
The train swooshed in and Jack boarded. There were only a half dozen others in the car at this hour. He glanced at his watch. Late, but he should make it to the agent's office with a good forty minutes to spare. The girl- whatsername- Sharon, Sherrie, something like that- had said she'd be there until ten.
He found the office without a lot of trouble, rang the night bell.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-23 03:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-09-23 03:13 pm (UTC)Thanks!