Disclaimer: The characters of SG-1, yea even the entire SGC, are the intellectual property of Brad Wright and Jonathon Glassner who developed them for television where they then became part of Double Secret Productions, Gekko Film Corp, and finally MGM Television. I acknowledge their ownership and assure them that I in no way intend to make a profit from this bit of writing. Rumour has it that Gekko is leaving with RDA so I guess I'll have to edit my disclaimer. Bummer.

Rating: G

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A DAY IN THE LIFE OF GENERAL JACK O'NEILL

by Teand

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It was the paperwork that got to him; piles and piles and piles and what the hell had happened to the paperless office that was supposed to arrive with the new millennium?

"General O'Neill?"

He glanced up to see Sergeant... Damn, the guy had been around forever and now he was blanking on the name... Sergeant... Davis? No, that wasn't it. Walter Something. Hariman. Right. Anyway, the man was leaning into his office.

"Sir, SG-1 reports that they're taking heavy fire from a troop of Jaffa who seem to be following a new System Lord."

"I thought the place was uninhabited."

"Doesn't seem to be, sir."

Was it ever? "Well, keep me posted."

"Yes sir."

Requisition forms? Why the hell did he have to sign every damned requisition form that came into or out of the mountain? So it was a top secret facility – did that mean the he had to approve the condiment order? Would an extra case of sweet relish give the whole God damned game away?

"Sir?"

Hariman was back.

"SG-1 has been captured and the new Goa-uld..." The sergeant glanced down at the paper in his hand. "...Swamish, or something, is heading this way to destroy the world."

"Uh huh."

"Should we go to red alert, sir?"

"Can we stop this Swamish guy if he gets this far?"

"No, sir."

"Then let's save the bells and whistles for another time."

"Yes, sir."

Did the SGC have a personnel department? Yes, they did because the weekly department report was in his inbox. So why did he have to read every single file for every new recruit that ended up posted to Colorado Springs? Read the file, initial the file, and send the file back to personnel. It wasn't like he had any say in the matter.

"Sir?"

"What is it, Hariman?"

"SG-1 just called home. They've taken over Swamish's mother ship, destroyed his fleet by luring it into an asteroid field, and saved the world."

"Glad to hear it."

"Only one problem, sir."

"And that is?"

"Dr. Jackson's dead again."

Oh for crying out loud... "Let the infirmary know."

"Yes, sir."

How the hell did they go through so much ammunition in a week? Forty thousand rounds? Enough was enough. He was instigating a new 'aim before you shoot' policy for all SG teams. There had to be a form for that around somewhere.

"Sir?"

"Hariman."

"Lt. Colonel Carter is back."

"You mean SG-1 is back."

"No, sir. Apparently Teal'c is integrating Swamish's Jaffa into the rebellion and well, Dr. Jackson's still dead."

"Right. Teal'c say when he'd be back?"

"No, sir."

"That's going to screw with the payroll records again."

"Yes, sir."

Payroll wasn't happy but then he wasn't happy either because they needed half a dozen new forms filled out to authorize Teal'c being gone even though, technically, he was absent without leave since he'd left without asking. Not that he ever asked.

"General?"

"I'm busy here, Hariman." He glanced up. "Oh. Carter. What can I do for you?"

Her cheeks went pink. "I just wanted you to know that Pete and I are back together, sir."

"Good for you, Carter. Is there anything else?" he asked as she twisted the ring.

"No, sir."

"You sure?"

"Yes sir."

He was just going to take her word for it then. Was there a reason he had to initial the same report three times? And then sign that he'd initialed it?

"Sir?"

"Hariman?"

"Turns out the Tok'ra lied to us about supporting our team on P34 2X1."

"Of course they did."

"Should we send in SG-3?"

"Is the Pope a Catholic?"

"I wouldn't know, sir. I'm Episcopalian."

Where had Colonel Anders learned to write reports? Grad school? Who needed forty-two pages to describe a mission that lasted seven hours? Okay, rhetorical question since apparently Colonel Anders did. And who the hell was Colonel Anders anyway? Seemed like there were new officers in the mountain every damned week.

"General O'Neil?"

"Sergeant Hariman."

"Major Davis is here to give you a heads up about a new political coalition in Washington that intends to shut down the SGC."

"What's new about it?"

"Nothing much really."

"So tell him to go deal with it." The red phone rang. "Apparently I have to talk to the president."

Apparently the president had some free time and wanted to touch base and exciting heroic cakes and yak yak yak. He initialed some more reports, listened with half an ear, and wondered why the red phone had a hold button. Could he put the president on hold? Why not.

"Sir?"

"Back again, Carter?"

"Yes, sir. I just wanted you to know that Pete and I have called it quits."

He checked the clock. "Okay."

"I had doubts."

"New doubts?"

"The same doubts."

"Then you made the right decision."

"You really think so?"

"Sure." He fished a note written in a familiar loopy scrawl out of his inbox and frowned at it. "Seems that Thor feels we don't spend enough time together."

"You and I?"

"Him and me. If you'll excuse me Carter, I need to contact the Asgard and nip this in the bud."

"Yes, sir."

Since they weren't actually needed for anything, the Asgard picked up on the first ring. Metaphorically speaking. The conversation with Thor was awkward -- there'd been a new ship named after him that hadn't blown up yet.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Hariman."

"Dr. Jackson is in the infirmary."

"Alive?"

"Yes, sir. And he appears to have all his memories this time."

"Hallelujah."

"Yes sir. Oh, and the Prometheus is missing again."

"This have anything to do with Dr. Jackson?"

"I don't think so, sir."

With the Prometheus missing, the duty roster had to be redone, the president spoken to once more, and Thor re-contacted. Thor's line was busy. Fortunately, it turned out the Prometheus had merely taken a detour to pick up an unidentified alien life-form on the way home which then significantly aged half a dozen unnamed airmen before it was spaced.

The duty roster had to be redone again.

"Jack?"

"Daniel."

"It's after eight. You ready to head home?"

The stack of paperwork wasn't any smaller than it had been at the beginning of the day.

He wrote himself a quick reminder to have Hariman find more unnaturally aged pension forms and stood. "Sure. Why not?"

"So," he asked as they walked to the elevator, "how was your day?"

Daniel half turned and raised an eyebrow above the edge of his glasses. "I died."

"Right."

"Yours?"

He shrugged. "Same old, same old."

--end—