Rascals - Chapter 18
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Several weeks had now passed, and they had begun to settle into this new life. O'Neill was in charge of the children, with Teal'c helping whenever he was not on some temporary assignment with another SG-team. Janet would also join them now and then.
O'Neill had to admit they were pretty cute and sweet most of the time. That did not mean they could not cause mischief from time to time, but it was usually not on purpose. They merely played and forgot about some rule or did not realise what the consequences of an action would be. Much like normal children - just very smart and knowledgeable children.
Like when he came into his office and they were playing some kind of game involving plastic dinosaurs and water guns. It was fortunate he had not gotten much of his report written yet, because every piece of paper in the room was soaked.
Sometimes laziness can be a saviour, he mused.
Or two days ago, when he, Teal'c, and Janet had been called to a meeting with Hammond to get the newest update from the Tok'ra. The children had somehow gotten into the meeting room, and had been playing there. However, they obediently left with the airman sent to escort them to their room, when Hammond and the others arrived.
Then Hammond had come into the room and sat down on a chair. A familiar sound could immediately be heard and Hammond got a strange expression. He rose again and checked the chair, retrieving a - whoopee cushion!
"How did this get here!" Hammond demanded, angrily.
O'Neill unsuccessfully attempted to swallow a grin. "No idea, sir." He sat down - only to be rewarded by the same sound as had just come from Hammond's chair.
Teal'c had lifted an eyebrow, but not said anything, while Hammond had looked stern. All of a sudden his expression had softened and he had started to laugh. He had thrown the prank toy to O'Neill.
"Kindly make sure the kids understand this prank was fun once, but they better not repeat it!"
O'Neill smiled a little at the memory of that.
Then there was yesterday, when Janet had somehow tripped an elaborate trap the little terrorists had set - and a bucket-full of plastic spiders, snakes, and various other plastic critters fell all over her. She had made a satisfactory scream, O'Neill would have to admit that, but boy had she been angry. He felt certain none of the children would ever attempt anything like that again.
Today had been a busy day for him, since Hammond had demanded he finally finish several reports that should have been done weeks ago.
He had spent most of the day in his office. When his stomach growled he suddenly - to his horror - realised it was two hours past dinner time! He jumped up and was about to run for the children's quarters, as they were probably very hungry by now, when his intercom beeped.
"This is Hammond. The guard on duty just informed me there's a delivery man waiting outside, demanding to be paid for the pizza, Coca Cola, and ice cream you ordered. Do you know anything about that?"
"Nothing, sir...eh...that is, I think I can guess."
"So can I. Kindly take care of it and make sure it doesn't happen again."
With a deep sigh O'Neill hung up and went to take the elevator to the surface to pick up the food. At least the children were resourceful. He had to give them that. He would not have to worry about them starving! He hoped they had at least bought enough pizza for him as well. He was getting very hungry.
O'Neill pushed open the door, using an elbow, since his arms were full.
"I brought your pizzas and other stuff. I realise I was running late, so it's okay this time, but next time please..." He put the large load down on the table and sat the bag with the soda and ice cream on the floor. "Ask me first..." He gaped at the children, who were standing in their messy beds, their faces completely hidden under some sort of paint. His first thought was that he hoped it was water based. They all wore what looked like rags, painted with more of the same colour. "What the..."
"We're Thilgrarians." Martouf explained.
"They can fly." Sam added. "At least they're supposed to."
"What the hell are Telegrams...or something?" O'Neill exclaimed, angrily. "And why are you jumping on the beds - dressed in rags and painted in the face."
"They are a race of Avians sapients, made extinct by the Goa'uld more than 1000 years ago." Daniel explained.
"Garshaw says she's seen one, once!" Sam added excited.
"These...rags should look like their feathers. Don't you think they do?" Daniel asked.
"We made them from some old sheets we got from Janet." Sam told him. "She said we could play with them. We painted them ourselves!"
"I doubt she meant you could shred them!" O'Neill shook his head. "Go to the bathroom and clean up. Now!"
"I'm hungry..." Daniel whined.
"I'm hungry too!" Martouf complained. "...and so is Lantash. Very hungry!"
"Wash your faces first." O'Neill took another look at them, then shook his head again. "I'll put out plates and stuff, then we can eat."
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