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Saramund's Shipfix
Viewing Habits

`Whatcha watching?`  The voice behind me asked, making me jump in my seat and making my heart pound.

            `Dammit, Jack!  Stop scaring people like that.`  I snarled, putting a hand to my heart and glaring up at him through my glasses.  He, damn the man, grinned back unrepentantly.

            `Well?`

            `Well what?`

            `Whatcha watching?`

            `It`s called Rugby Union, Jack.`  I replied, turning back to the game.

            `Rugby what?`

            `Union.  It`s a football game.`

            `Like gridiron?`

            `No.`  I swallowed a laugh, as the image of the tights-clad so-called footballers of this country, popped into my head.  Rugby Union was a long way from gridiron.  A long way.

            `Soccer, then?`  Jack continued.

            `God, no!` I snorted once again.  `Jack, tell me something.  If you`re so sport mad, how is it that one, you don`t recognise that this isn`t anything like soccer, and two, you don`t know what Rugby Union is, when it`s one of the biggest games in the world, behind soccer and golf?`

            `Really?`  Jack sat down now, completely absorbed in the new sport on the television.  `Damn.`  He swore when the two sides met in a ruck, the impact echoing over the speakers.  `That has to hurt.`

            `It does.`  I replied absently.  Jack shot me a look.

            `You`ve played this?`

            `When I was in Cardiff doing some additional study, yeah.` I confirmed.  He raised an eyebrow in shock.  I shrugged.  `It was that or cricket.`

            `Cricket?`  The other eyebrow raised, this time in confusion.

            `You`re kidding, right?  You don`t know what cricket is?`

            `A singing insect in summer?` He guessed.  I glared at him, trying to keep some of my attention on the game before me.  Wales were winning, and that was a surprise against South Africa. 

            `No.  It`s like softball, only not.  The bat isn`t round, there`s no bases and no foul-line, and you only have to run between two spots on the field to get a run.`

            `That doesn`t sound anything like softball.`

            `About as much as rugby union is like soccer, Jack.  Now shut up, I`m watching the game.`  Suddenly, the room was full of laughter and giggles.  I shot looks at all of my team-mates, who were curled over (yes, even Teal`c) in fits of laughter.

            `What?`  I asked them at large, then when they didn`t answer (my guess is they couldn`t, due to lack of breath from laughing) I turned back to the game, which had less than eight minutes to go.

            `Daniel. Just asked me to shut up cause.`  Jack said between laughs.

            `He`s watching the game!`  Sam squealed in a high-pitched tone, before breaking into more laughter.

            `It is indeed amusing to hear words that would normally inhabit O`Neill`s mouth be uttered by DanielJackson.`  Teal`c said when he`d regained breath.  I frowned, purposefully ignoring them.  Six and a half minutes, now.  Eighteen to twelve, only a converted try in it, and South Africa could win.  And they had the ball.  I cast a quick look at Sam, who was rolling around on the floor beside the television, holding her stomach and gasping for breath as she laughed, then turned my attention back to the game.

            `Sam, stop!`  Jack gasped, kicking her gently in the hip and he leant over for breath.

            `Sorry sssir.  I can`t.`  She replied, snorting.

            `She snorted!`  Jack exploded, collapsing back and sliding off his chair.

            `Are you guys drunk?`  I finally demanded, incensed.  My eyes didn`t leave the television, with only two minutes and ten metres to go, so I missed the look Jack and Sam gave each other, but I did get the pause in hilarity, and then the guffaw of hysteria.

            `Drunk he drunk!`  Jack and Sam both gasped.  `Oh God!`  I ignored them for a while, leaning forward as South Africa got closer to the try line, pushing Wales back through the weight of their scrummage.  I checked the stats and noticed that they were at the 19th phase and gaped.  I looked at the time, seventy six seconds left.  Upset of the century about to occur if Wales could keep them out.  Five metres and thirty seconds.  I think I stopped breathing.

 

*thunk*

 

            `Oh, shit.`  Sam whispered as she looked at the now blank screen on the television.  I stared at it with incomprehension.  What happened to the game?  Where was the picture?  `Daniel.`  Sam called my name.  I turned my eyes towards her.  `I`m sorry.`  She held up the cord, which she`d just knocked out of the wall.  I looked at it, looked at her, back at it and then shut my eyes.

            `Sam.`    Someone else said.

            `Yes, Jack?`

            ` I would suggest you run.`  Teal`c suggested. Sam took his idea to heart and ran out of the room like a rabbit.  I followed her, bellowing all the way.

            `Samantha Jane Carter, you are a dead woman!`  I think I heard her laughing as she ran out of the house and down the street.  After about a kilometre, I began to see the humour as well, and as I ran, I started to laugh.  Before long, I was laughing to hard to even try to run, and ended up collapsed on a wall overlooking the park, laughing.  Sam approached carefully, as if I was a wild animal.  I smiled at her, and stepped closer.  Wrong move.  I tackled her, going for her weak points.

            `Jack!  Teal`c!`  Sam squealed as I tickled her feet.  `Help!`

            `Nope.`  I heard Jack say. I cast a look up at him.  He was sat  back with Teal`c on the same wall I`d been on, having followed slowly after us, and was enjoying the show.  I grinned at him and went on punishing Sam, who was squealing and struggling.

            `You`re all bastards!`  She cursed as she laughed.

            `Yup.`  I replied, unrepentant.

 

 

-fin-