"Sara's Journal - Thoughts" - By Vivian Ngan
TITLE: Sara's Journal - Thoughts
CATEGORY: SJ Romance
SPOILERS/SEASON INFO: Nothing really, except a general knowledge of Season One may help.
ARCHIVE: SJ Relationship Archive and Heliopolis; all others drop me a line first.
SUMMARY: The diary of Sam and Jack's daughter.
DISCLAIMER: All characters on Stargate SG-1 that appear in this story are owned soley and exclusively by MGM, Double Secret Productions and World Gekko Corp. The author is in no way appropriating these characters for monetary gains, and any infringement on the rights of the aforementioned companies is wholly unintended. References to place names and plot lines that appeared on Stargate SG-1 are likewise the property of the above companies.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I also wrote this in a fit of insomnia ... possibly not as flowy as the other one. Hope people still enjoy it though!
1. Sara's Journal
2. Sara's Journal - Thoughts
3. Sara's Journal - Valentine's Day
Copyright (c) Vivian Ngan January 2000
December 24th 20XX
Wow. I'm *so* tired ... even though I've just slept for 11 hours straight. Yawn. What a night.
The party was really good. I mean, it always is since Mom and Dad go about organising it as if they were on one of their missions. Dad's got the whole ordering people around routine perfected (like ordering me to light the fire for the barbeque and ordering Jake to rake the yard - I guess that's what you get when your Dad is a General) while Mom goes around double checking on Dad to see if he's doing everything right (he's got a tendency to cut corners). He always seems to enjoy her checking up on him though - I swear he'd do something stupid just so he could provoke her ... and the arguments they have are always colourful. Like yesterday, when Dad 'convinced' Jake to rake the yard (I use the word 'convince' liberally since Dad basically threatened to stick Jake into a military school if he didn't), he knew Mom would found out, but he did it anyway!
And find out she did. I was in the back yard with Dad trying to get the coals to light (actually, I was trying to get the thing to light while Dad was *pretending* to help - standing on the verandah with a beer in hand no less) when she ran out and squared up with him, hands on hips. "Jack - " in that tone that she always uses whenever she thinks he's done something no sane child would do, let alone a full grown adult - "I thought I asked you to clean the yard. I don't recall asking *Jake* to do it." Dad just grinned smugly and looked at her while gulping down beer, "Come on Sam, I'm helping Sara out here." Mom and I just *looked* at him and I blurted out "No he's not" (hey, I wasn't going to be his unwilling accomplice here - Mom is one person you *don't* want to mess with when she gets upset). He shot me a look but luckily Mom came to my rescue and proceeded to tell him off (quite good naturedly in fact) since I think she's clued into how he actually *likes* her to do that - telling him off like he was a kid, and him trying to defend himself. Hmm. If these weren't my parents I would've sworn that they were actually *flirting* ... but then that's quite a disgusting thought and I've just had this massive lunch ...
We had this semi-crisis too just before the guests were supposed to turn up. One of our multiple fridges (the one loaded with seafood and salad incidentally) cracked under the pressure and actually dared to break down (risking Mom's wrath in the process). Mom was livid. Absolutely *livid*. She stormed around the house trying to look for the instruction manual thing muttering "for crying out loud" so many times I thought she was going to bust a rib. And then Jake (in those rare moments of his when he actually cares about what goes on outside 'Planet Jake') came in to try and help her fix it, but even *he* gave up and skulked back up to his room.
In the end it was Dad who saved the day. He came into the kitchen after going to the health food shop to get that low-fat dip thing that Mom insisted they had to have at the party, and found me and her on the floor trying to see the circuits behind the fridge. And you should have heard what kinds of things she was saying - I guess the thing about hanging around too many sailors or soldiers or whatever is true since I hadn't even *heard* half the stuff that was coming out of her mouth at that point - that's when Dad (who was in one of his rather obscenely good moods) pretended to be shocked and said "*Samantha* ... don't teach Sara that language" and she just *glared* at him and Dad looked so pleased with himself for getting her back, since she's always telling him the same thing (it's true, half the words I know I learnt from Dad - she'd kill him if she really knew!). She was so stressed and frustrated I swear she just wanted to take the hammer and pummel it to death, which is weird since she's usually so calm and collected. "Jack - this damn fridge just broke down and if we don't fix it the seafood's going to go off and we won't have anything to eat at the party" (well, it's not like people come over *especially* for the food, but I guess it'd throw a dampener on any party if the guests happened to starve to death - not to mention increasing the number of "inebriated" people in the room, and Mom *loves* this house). So then Dad rather dramatically steps in front of the fridge, squaring off in front of it like he was going to shoot it down or something ... then gives it a huge kick. We all kind of stood there, and the cursed fridge actually starts up again! Dad was so smug, believe me - he just smiled at us and said rather coyly to Mom, "I pride myself on my expert handling of machinery" and she actually *laughed*. God knows why, it wasn't even all that funny - but I guess they must share the same sense of humour or something, since Dad's always making the lamest jokes and nobody but Mom laughs at them (or if they were extra lame, she'd try to hide her smile). Anyway, after Mom was satisfied that the thing wouldn't give out again I made my quick getaway, since I knew from past experience that they were going to do that hugging and kissing thing - which is all well and good for *them*, but they shouldn't really inflict me with it, you know? Honestly, *parents*.
But that's what they're always doing (hugging and kissing that is), which is I guess a better thing to see than your parents fighting. *Still*. Another weird thing is that they're always together, like they were joined at the hip or something and they don't seem to get sick it. I mean, I get that they're 'in love' (ick, bad, *bad* images coming in here), but still ... wouldn't it be kinda (no, make that extremely, terminally) boring, always hanging around the same person all the time? It's bizarre - even when they're doing completely different things they still manage to do them together - like when Dad's watching the hockey on TV Mom would be curled up next to him with her lap top working on some physics model, and during the commercials he'd start massaging her neck and stuff. Or when she's cooking he'll be in the kitchen doing all the paperwork that he couldn't get out of doing any longer to keep her company - and don't forget that they actually work on the same base too - that adds up to heaps and heaps and *heaps* of time together.
Oh Dad's calling me downstairs. We're supposed to be going to Uncle Daniel's tonight for a little get together - just the old SG-1 and General Hammond and Aunt Janet ... and of course, me and Jake and Cassie. Can't really ditch us at home, can they? (unless we didn't want to go, that is). I'm actually quite looking forward to it you know. I think it's because now I'm old enough to talk to people more - before I was just the baby that went around from person to person getting hugged and cuddled (okay, so that was when I was heaps younger ...) but now, I can actually talk to them. I mean, I found out yesterday that Uncle Teal'c and I were both obsessed with reruns of Friends ... it's such a classic. I mean, I know it was really popular back in my parent's day ... but it's actually pretty funny. Uncle Teal'c likes Phoebe and I like Chandler ... we had the coolest argument about that yesterday.
I also like talking to Uncle Daniel. Actually, I've always liked talking to him. I think that out of all the adults around me, he's actually been the only one to just talk to me. Talk as if we're equals rather than just an adult to some kid. I always liked that. Plus he's always telling me about ancient myths and stuff. I used to think it was such a yawn, but now ... I quite like it. I like imagining what it must've been like for other people in other cultures, way back in the mists of time (a bit poetic I know ... it's a phase ... really it is ...) when they still believed in gods and stuff (my parents are most definitely atheist ... never knew why, they're kinda really *really* against recognising any god as a God ...). I like it so much that I've started borrowing some of Uncle Daniel's more simple history books to read. Oh man. That sounds so lame. But I like to imagine what it must've been like ... especially Ancient Egypt and Ancient Greece. You should've seen the looks on Mom and Dad's faces when I made my way into the kitchen one time with one of Uncle Daniel's books in hand. Dad just frowned and said, "Ancient Egypt ... *sweet*." while Mom asked me why I was so interested in it ... is it *that* strange for me to be interested in history? (well, I guess it is, since as a general rule I hate reading ... but there was never anything cool to read about before, you know?) Then I told them I liked all the myths, particularly the gods and stuff and Dad had a coughing fit and practically spewed coffee all over the table. I told them my favourites were Amun-Re and Hathor and Mom's face went really really weird, like she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Don't know why they had such a big reaction to it ... another one of life's little mysteries I guess.
Now I have to go. I'm sure Dad's getting a minor stroke just trying to get me and Mom out the door in time. He is so preoccupied with time ... guess that's another thing that comes of having a General for a Dad. Military precision and all that. "1900 hours Sara ... we're gonna be late." Why can't he say 7 o'clock like everyone else? Anyway ... guess I'll just have to write more later ...