Well, finally got a good list of words to write an SG-1 fic with. Just as random infor, I picked this to be season three just for the heck of it, lol. Have fun!
I'm trying hard not to laugh. I really am. But it's kind of hard when a little face too darn cute to be legal is balking up at you with an expression you're used to seeing on a thirty-three-year-old man. It seems that Daniel finds his métier in getting into trouble.
"Well…isn't this a perfect fiasco?" I grumble. And I am annoyed. Some. But right now the humor of the whole situation is getting to me more than it probably should.
"It's not my fault," Daniel insists, little-kid face scrunching into an inscrutable expression.
"Would you like to expound on that?" I really don't blame it. I know it wasn't. But listening to him argue with the body and voice of a four-year-old is just too darn fun. I go for displaying a little bit of acrimony at him for getting us into more crap, but it doesn't work. I settle on sticking with annoyed.
The kid--and I can't help thinking that way, looking at him--crosses his arms. "I'm not the one who tripped on the statue's foot and knocked the device off the altar, Jack."
Okay, true, but really. "You should have warned me it was there!"
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not omniscient!"
"Oh, for cryin' out loud…" I'm still trying to figure out a feasible possible reason why the thing I knocked off when I tripped changed him in the first place. Not to mention that I'm still trying not to laugh out loud at the poor guy. The last thing I need is for my size-fluctuating archaeologist to be harrying me.
But after that, there's an uncomfortable silence until I break it. "Uhm, yeah…so anyway, we should probably go find Carter and Teal'c and start working on…well, you know, fixing this."
"No!" he exclaims suddenly.
I look at him strangely. "You wanna be four?"
"No! I mean…no. I mean, I don't them to see me like this." Daniel looks down at himself, draped in his black t-shirt and green jacket. They reach to the floor on him, and his pants, which he couldn't keep on no matter how hard he tried, have been abandoned a few feet away where he finally got frustrated enough and just stepped out of them after waddling around for a couple of minutes ranting about the whole situation.
I raise an eyebrow. "You can't stay here."
"I know that, Jack, thank you," he huffs. "I mean, just let me look at the thing. Maybe it's simple. The language does look a little familiar…"
"Is anything ever simple though?" I comment. He gives me a look, so I sigh. "Fine. Have it your way. You've got an hour until we're supposed to meet at the 'gate anyway. If you're not six feet tall again by then, we're bringing that thing and heading back to the SGC. Deal?"
Daniel rolls his eyes and heaves a big sigh, obviously trying to show me that he's still very much any adult, but it comes out making him seemed even more childish. "Fine," he sighs. "Deal."
I can't help but snicker, and he gives me a dour expression. I hold up my hands and take a couple of steps back, "Okay, shutting up. Go…translate your thingy."
He is sooo not happy about this being a little kid thing--and he's only been that way for about ten minutes. I gotta admit, I was a little scared when that bright white beam shot outta that little round device I knocked off the alter-like thing. It hit Daniel right in the chest, and he yelled, and then I couldn't see…
Well, I found out about a minute later what it did, and that he'd only shouted in surprise, but of course, when it hit him I assumed the worst. I kept right on assuming it until the light died down and I had a bite-sized Daniel on my hands.
I walk around the inside of the small temple, looking at all the little squiggles I wouldn't be able to read to save my life and tilting my head at them. I do that for about twenty minutes, leaving Daniel alone to do his thing--though I'm pretty sure that he won't figure it out like, right now; when stuff like this happens it's never that easy to fix--when suddenly there's a flash of light behind me.
"Daniel!" Heart jumping, I spin around quickly, thinking that he must have done something to make it worse, or maybe even--well, no need to jump to conclusions.
Instead, I'm looking at my own six-foot archaeologist--with no pants on.
"Ya!" I turn around again, and hear Daniel yelp at the same moment and quickly pick up said pants and pull them on. After a moment he clears his throat, and I assume it's safe to turn back around again.
I do, but at the same time I end up with my mouth hanging open stupidly. I can't figure out how he did it.
"What?" he asks uncomfortably, straightening his shirt and jacket out again.
"How….how did you--?"
Daniel shrugs and interrupts me. "It can't always be complicated." And he picks up his pack and the device and heads for the door pronto.
I start after him. "Okay, that's just wrong on so many levels," I mumble. But he hears me, and now he's frowning in that thoughtful way.
"Have we really been doing this so long….?" He doesn't have to finish the thought, and we look at each other.
"Maybe we outta leave that thing here," I suggest, pointing to the small round device in his hand.
Daniel quickly sets it down on the nearest flat surface. "Good idea." Then he books it, and I follow as quickly as my bothersome knees will allow.