Year after Year - The SGC Drill Camp
by Sammy
RATING:PG - language
CATEGORY: [HU] [1st] Action/Adventure
SPOILERS: None, but you should know what Simmons
thinks about Sam &(and)what about Jack. Ah, and you
should really know who Walter Davis, the Chevron Man,
is (played by Gary Jones if that helps)!
SUMMARY: ...the SGC's annual Drill-Camp. Not at all“Good morning campers”
CONTENTS WARNING: I think Janet is a *little* bit
sarcastic. Then again, this is my writing style ;-)
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Yap, my thank goes to my 2 Betas:
Tigerly, the lovely Nicole, who over-wrote my translation. The result is better
then my original German Version :) THAAAAAAAAAANK YOU !!!
And, my sweet Auri, who didn't have *that* much work with betaing the german
part, but who's also the person who keeps me up writing fics. Love ya.
FEEDBACK: The Stuff,
the Germans write much to less,
that’s why I translated the Fic. So, C’mon guys :o) I
have these very special brownies here... I can’t
imagine you do *not* want ‘em...
Drill Camp, how do I hate thee? Let me count the
ways…
Year after year, each time 'better' than before. So,
if you haven't guessed already, I am at Drill Camp.
The fifth, and *last*
day of Drill Camp. And I still
haven't killed anyone yet. So, you may ask, why don't
I feel jubilated that this damned function is nearly
over huh? Well, let me tell you why - today is the
day of the dreaded Final Event.
So campers, what have they cooked up
for us this time?
Let's see…walls, mud holes, all those fun and
exciting things. Oh, and let's not forget the ever
lovable slope, forever welcome in our hearts. I look
over to Major Davis standing beside me, his eyes
returning my hopeless gaze. Seems like he loves this
Drill Camp highlight as much as I do. Anyone else up
for a twenty-five kilometer run dotted with sand bags
and mud? Anyone?
Funnily enough, the crowd does not go wild.
Light droplets of rain begin
falling upon my head,
quickly turning into huge, enormous heiffer sized
drops which bombard the already muddy earth like ten
pound mortar bombs.
"Captain, Lieutenant, your turn!" Chirps the all
too
cheery voice of the Drill Instructor. Oh joy, I'm so
excited.
Davis pushes me forward with a hand on my shoulder.
"C'mon!" Is it just
me or is he entirely too
enthusiastic? I withold the urge to groan and follow
after him, thinking to myself that it could be worse…I
could be running with one of my perpetually giggling
nurses.
I start off the run with a light jogging tempo,
thinking that maybe later on I can increase my pace.
Oh, who am I kidding?
We all know that I'll be
dragging myself on my hands and knees as soon as I
reach the finish line.
After five minutes of steady jogging, we reach
a wall,
seemingly custom-made to suit tall people like myself.
I grin as I notice that some kind soul has hung a
rope to aid in climbing. I grasp it and clamber my
way over, yelling back a warning to Davis about the
slippery quality of the wall.
We are met with a further seven minutes of peaceful
jogging interrupted by only the occasional
conveniently placed sandbag when we come to it. The
River. Last year we had to balance our way across the
raging water on a thoughtfully provided log.
Evidently, this year's organisers
have decided that
balancing was far too easy, and have thus decided that
we should all swing our way across with the aid of a
hanging rope. I reach up to grab a hold of the soggy
horsehair and test it's payload. God-damnit. I feel
like Captain ClingMonkey. Cute nickname, right?
Thank god there's nobody
else watching me, well except
for Davis, but that's a given. I let go of the rope
and search through my pockets for my climbing gloves.
Oh no…could this
get any better? I've left the damned
things back at the camp. Well isn't that great.
Sighing, I give myself
up to my fate and reach up
again to hold the slimy wet rope. The rain continues
to bucket down upon us as we swing our way across the
river, hand over hand like a pair of suicidal monkeys.
After what feels like an eternity of swinging we reach
the opposite side. Oh, for the love of solid ground.
My arms ache as I
shake them out, slightly relieving
them on the tension.
Our relief is short lived, however, as before us
looms
The Slope. It is every soldier's dream come true,
open land spreading
in either direction for at least
two miles. Joy. I rummage through my pack for some
rope. Great, I packed it right at the bottom of the
bag. Gee Janet, that was talented, *real* talented,
seeing as you should know this trail already. Ah
well, knowledge comes to those who wait.
I wrestle the rope out of my back pack and hand it to
Davis, who proceeds to secure it around a tree. He
flashes me a look that oozes "Ladies First.' And I
frown. Well, I suppose, it could be worse. I could
be dealing with Colonel O'Neill, who was unfortunately
unable to join us on this very wonderful and exciting
experience.
The 'slope', as it is called, is made of wood and
descends at an alarming angle. It's at times like
these that I am grateful for the gripping quality of
my heavy-duty combat boots. The heavy rain makes the
wall as slippery as ever as I make my way down it,
trying desperately not to fall. Not that a little
more mud and water would make any difference either
way, I'm already wet through to the skin. Oh for a
nice hot shower…
I reach the bottom of the slippery wall and wait as
Davis descends and comes to stand beside me. We turn
around simultaneously, greeting the next obstacle
with dubious eyes.
Oh no…please tell me this isn't real…Alas, it is. My
'beloved' Scree Field, loosely translated into a field
of endless scrapes and bruises. Anyone who can get
through this without a blemish deserves a medal.
Thwack. Davis comes down
with a thud at my feet,
having slipped upon a loose stone. I offer him an arm
and pull him up. Come to think of it, we’re not such
a bad team, Davis and I. He may just be a technician,
but he knows how to get the job done.
Thwack! I *hate* this field! Did I mention how much
I hate this field? I hate this field. I have already
fallen over twice and we haven't even reached the
half-way mark. Davis isn't doing much better mind
you…Woooah, we grab at each other's arms as we stumble
down again. Damnit, have I mentioned how much I hate
this?
My hands are covered in tiny cuts and bruises. I
don't even want to think about my face…let alone my
shins! The sight of Davis's battered from is more
than enough for me. Poor guy, he's kissed the floor
at least six times already, thankfully, the end is
almost in sight.
…I think I may have spoken too soon. Before us looms
the mud pit, carefully designed to have an optimum
effect on infecting open wounds. And what better way
to do that than to crawl through a pool of mud on your
stomach with your MP-15.
Sergeant Davis is gasping like an old man in front
of me. I guess being a technician doesn't require a lot
of physical exertion, huh?
I'd laugh myself silly if this damned trail
weren't so
demanding. Davis looks a treat. The Mud Man - The
SGC's very first DIY horror movie.
6 Minutes Later
Ahh, a blissful reprieve from the Mess stand. Coffee.
Oh, joyous day. I take a sip, and nearly spit it out
again. Ugh! Who the hell is cooking in there? Fire
them at once! I barely swallow down the nasty liquid
before Davis and I are on our way again, this time to
the shooting range.
Soo, what's on the menu this time huh? Some idiot put
Simmons up in charge of the target designs, which bear
an uncanny resemblance to Colonel O'Neill. Charming,
though I must admit that I do get some sort of twisted
joy out of shooting the cardboard cutouts, although
I'm not too sure of what my dear friend Sam would have
to say…
Wow. Who would have guessed that Davis was such a
good marksman? When was his last mission again?
My score this year has
improved since last time, but
unfortunately for me, is still not good enough. I
definitely need to practice more often. Nevertheless,
the show must go on!
When is this thing finished again?
30 minutes later.
I feel duped. We set out for five minutes with high
spirits, things were looking good, not an obstacle in
sight. Turns out that our five minute run was
actually a half-mile marathon. Running always was my
favourite discipline. Davis and I didn't talk much as
we ran, time wasn't the problem, it was just hard,
demanding.
A glint of something catches my eye. Wait a
second…was that…oh thankyou god! The end lies in
blissful wait a couple of yards away. Encouraged, we
both pick up our pace a little and Davis's eyes light
up. Not Goa'uld golden, mind you, but Davis blue.
The finish line looms,
four hundred metres, two
hundred, fifty…twenty-five, five, none! Yes! Oh
thankyou god. Now, for a hot shower and something
else that is warm…no, not *that* kind of warm.
Granted, this mud coating
that I'm sporting is kinda
warm, but not exactly what I had in mind. Help help.
I've fallen and I
can't get up. I've lost the will to
stand, so I stay lying in my puddle of mud like a
wallowing hippo I'm exhausted. And yes, before you
ask, I did end up crawling past the finish line on my
hands and knees. Maybe I should change my
profession…a real live psychic maybe?
----------------------------------------
"Hey, you're back already" Sam greets me as I trudge
my way in to the locker room, covered from head to tow
in mud and wanting nothing more than a long, hot
shower.
"Let me hug you hon!"
What, are you kidding? Home again at last. A shower
and a nap and then back home to my daughter Cassie.
"Davis told me that you got paired off with him." Sam
starts. Oh, no, please, can't this conversation wait
till later? "Yeah," I affirm wearily, "I don't think
I would have made it with anyone else."
Sam grins in amusement. "Hey, I talked to General
Hammond and he said that you were one of the best ten
women on the course. You've been cleared to take part
in our next mission."
Despite my fatigue, my mood lightens, "Really?" I
ask, "I've wanted to go through the Gate for a long
time! This is great. One question though, When *is*
the next mission?"
The Major laughs and places her hand on my shoulder.
"Calm down Janet, it's not for another two weeks."
I nod, and move towards my locker. "Shower." I'm so
tired I can barely for a coherent sentence.
"Pardon?"
"Shower. I need a shower."
"Didn't you have one at the camp?"
"The water was cold." That was all that Sam was going
to get for an answer as I disappeared around the next
corner, throwing off my muddied cams and slipping into
the warm soothing comfort of hot water and steam.
---------------------------------------
Ohhh, that shower felt *so* good. Better than sex.
Well, I *suppose* it was better than sex…I haven't had
much for comparison in a long while.
Wrapped in my fluffy towel I pad my way over to the
lockers and open the door. There's nothing in it.
Right. Someone is going to die. Who the hell has
stolen my clothes?!?
I am *not* impressed. Now I'm going to have to make a
dash for my quarters clothed in my towel, nothing
less. I look through the other lockers. No-one else
has left behind a uniform. Shit. God must have
something against me today, in a really big way. When
I get a hold of this idiot…he is going down like never
before. They don't call me Doctor Death for nothing!
Ah, what the hell, I mutter, slamming the final locker
shut. It's already late, I figure. Nobody will see
me. I walk you to the hallway. All clear. It's now
or never, Janet. I make my streak towards my quarters
with as much dignity as possible, hoping to god that
everyone is either at home or has already gone to bed.
O-ho, apparently never would have been a better
choice. Daniel comes wandering around the corridor and
I barrel into him with an 'oomph', accidentally
letting my towel slide to the floor. Oh shit.
Of all the inconvenient…
I stop down and gather the towel to my chest hurriedly
as he gasps and covers his eyes, his cheeks flushing a
deep cherry-red, as do mine. Oh, this is so
embarrassing. And, as much as I'd love to talk to
him, I think he'd understand if I didn't stop to talk
right *now*. I mutter my apologies as I squeeze past
him to the other corridor. There! My Door! I'm
saved.
-----------------------------------------------------
A knock sounds at the door. Oh no, who is it now?
Can't I even get a break? The knock sounds again, I
sigh, perhaps I should at least look to see who it is.
I move to the door and open it, finding Daniel
standing there, complete with two cups of coffee in
his hands. Did he have those with him a few minutes
ago as well? Nah, he can't have done. Well it
doesn't matter anyway, I guess I had better let him
in. After all, it would be rude to refuse the coffee,
and, to be serious, the man who's holding the cups is
not so bad himself.
"Janet?"
What? Ah, oh yes, the coffee. "Please come in." Is
my skin flushing red again? I take the proffered cup
and sit on my bed, leaving the desk chair vacant for
him to join me. Ahh, the cup is perfect. I love a
man who knows my coffee. Did I just think that? No,
you must be hallucinating again.
We sit in silence, unsure of what to
talk about.
Well, there's work and there's Cass, she's on vacation
right now, off skiing with a youth group.
Eventually Daniel gets up and
makes reluctant excuses
to leave. My head starts a minor battle with my
heart, unwilling to part company with him just yet,
but unsure of what to do with him if he doesn't go.
I open my mouth to
stop him but it's too late, he has
already gone. Ah well. At least I have my dreams,
and what wonderful dreams they are too. To some,
Daniel comes across as a sneezing freak, but to me,
no. Only to me - he is the sweetest geek in all the
world.
Finis
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