What is it this time?
by
Denise

Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.



General Hammond got into the elevator and swiped his key card. Registering who its passenger was, a series of options available to no one else save Colonel O'Neill lit up on the control panel. With a sigh, he pushed the button for level 10. He always hated this part. Though he was good friends with General Michael Roberts, he still felt like a child reporting to the principal's office.

The elevator doors opened and George Hammond stepped into the halls of NORAD. The SGC and NORAD may essentially be neighbors in the same duplex, but George had definitely come to see Michael far more times than Michael had visited him. George nodded to the airman on duty and knocked on the familiar door.

"Come." he heard Michael say. George walked into General Roberts' office and saw the lean man stand up, a welcoming smile on his face. "George. Good to see you. I guess the fact that I am seeing you means your crisis is over?" Hammond walked across the spacious office and took Michael's offered hand.

"Mike. Yes. Everything's back to normal."

Michael gave him an odd look and chuckled. "George. Using normal and the SGC in the same sentence is an even bigger oxy-moron than military intelligence." George fell into their familiar game.

"Would a fly without wings be called a walk?"

"Is there another word for synonym?"

"Why is abbreviation such a long word?" Michael held up his hands in mock surrender.

"OK George, you win. So care to tell me what it was this time?" George sat down, took a deep breath and proceeded to brief General Roberts on the reason for locking down Cheyenne Mountain.

~~~~~

An hour later, General Hammond left General Roberts' office scarcely believing his luck. Michael had been oddly nonchalant about the whole thing. He sighed as he got into the elevator to return to his section of the complex. Now for the really fun part...cleaning up the mess.

The doors had scarcely closed behind General Hammond when five Air Force officers streamed into General Roberts' office.

"Sir, I take it the crisis is over?" Major Francis Copperfield asked his CO.

"Yes major. The commandos have left and the mountain is now open."

"Well, that's a relief. One of those jack-booted thugs actually frisked me," Major Marjorie Williams complained.

"Who are you kidding Margie, I saw the look on your face. I think you enjoyed it," Lieutenant Colonel Sam Seward teased, waggling his eyebrows.

"Not half as much as you did," Marjorie shot back, not missing a beat.

"Tsk, tsk. Don't ask, don't tell," Colonel Richard Seyborne said shaking his index finger at his friends.

"Children, children. We're getting off the topic here," Major Javier Hidalgo chided his friends. "General, care to tell us what it was this time?" General Roberts good-naturedly shook his head.

"People, you know what happens downstairs is classified," he reminded his staff.

"Sir, we're not asking for details just...why was the mountain locked down this time?" Seyborne clarified.

"My money's on a runaway virus. Remember Sam, those rumors we heard about cavemen."

"No, no, no, what about that red haired amazon. The one who had a hundred guys eating out of her hands," Marjorie reminded with a twinkle in her green eyes. "What ever she used...somebody tell me where I can get some."

"Oh, like John would let you use it."

"You think I'd give him a choice?" Marjorie retorted.

"What about those rumors about ghosts or people walking through the walls? You know Lieutenant Markem and Sergeant Yasaka are still in therapy. They still SWEAR they saw people walk THROUGH them."

"Well if someone could get through to them...they wouldn't be in therapy," Richard quipped.

"It's not a virus again is it? I hate viruses. Last time I got so many shots I swear I dreamed I was a pincushion."

"Really stuck with ya, hah?"

"At least we didn't have to totally evacuate this time. Last time we left in such a hurry I forgot my keys. I had to break into my own house," Javier complained.

"I remember. I had to bail you out when the Colorado Springs Police Department arrested you for B&E," Francis reminded his friend. Javier threw his hands in the air.

"Would you just let it go?" he exclaimed. "They dropped the charges for pete's sake."

Colonel Seyborne broke up the banter.

"General, you gotta tell us," he pleaded, "Aliens, viruses or Armageddon threat," he said clicking off the options on his fingers.

"People, all they do downstairs is analyze deep space radar telemetry. The only aliens they see in on the TV in a rec. room."

"But sir..." Roberts' held up his hand.

"However, if I were writing an episode of the X-Files, I would say a chemical spill caused Scully and Mulder to hallucinate about an invasion of aliens who disguise themselves with holographic projectors and devices that drain the memories of their victims and self-destruct rather than be captured so little evidence is left behind."

"OK. Who had aliens on the 24th?" Seyborne asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Not me. I had a virus on the 15th."

"Wait. I thought you hated viruses."

"I do. But I can live with them if they win me money. I won last month, remember. Bought my DVD player with the winnings."

"Well, it isn't me. I had amazons on the 28th."

"Does your wife know you're wishing for an amazon invasion?"

"Hey. I'm married, not dead." The general cleared his throat as he held up a piece of paper.

"Major Hidalgo, would you care to read the name of the individual who picked aliens on the 24th?" The major took the paper and read it. He tossed it back on the general's desk with a small degree of respectful disgust.

"Javier?"

"General Michael Roberts," he said resignedly.

"Again sir? You've won it twice," Colonel Seyborne complained.

"How do we know he's not cheating?" Lt. Colonel Sam Seward asked.

"Sam, the general wouldn't cheat...would you sir?" Marjorie asked. Roberts gave her a withering look. "Obviously not," she replied.

"Frankie, we need to start over. What do you choose?" Javier asked his friend grabbing a pen and paper off the general's desk.

"Aliens on the 21st."

"I want viruses on the 17th."

"Gotta go for amazons on the 12th."

"What the hell, Armageddon event on the 13th. Margie?"

"Virus on the 6th," she replied. Major Hidalgo scribbled down their choices and gathered the $20 bills tossed onto the desk. He turned to his CO.

"General, your guess?"

Roberts thought for a minute then tossed his money down.

"Aliens again, on the 31st." Javier dutifully recorded the guess and returned the paper and money to the general to be locked in his desk.

Satisfied their wagers were secure, the five officers left their indulgent general's office. As the door closed, Michael sat down and chuckled.

"George, having you as a neighbor may be a pain in the ass, but it certainly keeps things interesting." He fingered his winnings. "And profitable."

~fin~

 


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