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Title: The Coffee Shop
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1 AU
Prompt: 346 - Non Sequitur
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: Part 1 of an all-human AU wherein Jack is a USAF Spec Ops vet trying to rebuild his life after leaving the the Air Force following a disastrous mission.
Jack was wiping down the counter, less because it was dirty and more for lack of anything else to keep himself occupied as Bingo Lady kept on chattering away. Her name was Molly or something like that, but her primary topic of conversation was the local bingo circuit and usually all he had to was flash a little of the O'Neill charm and let her blather on while she drank her coffee. She was retired from the University Payroll office, but had come back to work part-time - probably to support her bingo habit, Jack thought. She was nice enough, obviously lonely, and frequented the coffee shop where Jack worked on her lunch breaks.
The Cantina was a coffee shop that drew a large number of patrons from the local university campus, being less than a block away from the south entrance. Faculty, staff, and students all found the atmosphere pleasant and welcoming. The owner was an old buddy of Jack's. He could still remember the looks on everybody's faces when T had announced he was leaving Special Ops, leaving the Air Force for crying out loud, to go open a coffee shop! It was laughable.
Bingo Molly gathered up her napkin and trash and stuffed it into her coffee cup. "You enjoy the peace and quiet while you can, Jack," she said as she dropped some coins in the tip jar.
"I'm sorry?" he asked, not having been paying close enough attention to understand the apparent non-sequitur.
"The students. They’re back in a week, you know. Everything's always so crazy when they're here." She sighed and shook her head. Jack nodded sagely and waited for the door to close behind her before rolling his eyes. "They pay your salary, lady," he whispered under his breath.
Personally he was looking forward to their return. Of course there were still a decent number of kids around, taking summer courses, but he couldn't wait for the hustle and bustle of the regular semester. He’d loved it last spring, not just in the shop but walking back and forth, watching the kids play ultimate extreme whatever-the-hell, listening to their yells and shouts of victory, watching them study, and laugh, and learn, and argue. It reminded him why he had done what he did, why the sacrifices were worth it.
They had all said that T was crazy not to reup, and had outright laughed at his plan to open a coffee shop, of all things. Kawalsky had been diligent about trying to change his mind, even through that last night when they all took T out to toast and roast him. The elite special ops boys, on top of the world, shooting pool, shaking their heads at their stubborn almost-former teammate. Lots of beer, lots of backslapping.
That was the last night they would ever all be together.
The next time Jack saw T was at the memorial service. Even that was pretty fuzzy. He remembered sitting next to Barbara and how tightly she gripped his hand; he remembered holding Ferretti's sister. T had hung back, offered brief condolences to the families, and slipped a business card into Jack's pocket. "If you ever have need, O'Neill."
The damn coffee shop.
Jack had almost thrown it away in anger, or maybe jealousy. But he didn't. He tucked it away in his desk drawer, where it lay for several months. Months of physical rehabilitation, psych evaluations, medical leave until he finally decided, over the Air Force's strong objections, to get the hell out of there. It wasn’t until he was packing up that he found the card again. He was dialing the number before he knew it.
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1 AU
Prompt: 346 - Non Sequitur
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: Part 1 of an all-human AU wherein Jack is a USAF Spec Ops vet trying to rebuild his life after leaving the the Air Force following a disastrous mission.
Jack was wiping down the counter, less because it was dirty and more for lack of anything else to keep himself occupied as Bingo Lady kept on chattering away. Her name was Molly or something like that, but her primary topic of conversation was the local bingo circuit and usually all he had to was flash a little of the O'Neill charm and let her blather on while she drank her coffee. She was retired from the University Payroll office, but had come back to work part-time - probably to support her bingo habit, Jack thought. She was nice enough, obviously lonely, and frequented the coffee shop where Jack worked on her lunch breaks.
The Cantina was a coffee shop that drew a large number of patrons from the local university campus, being less than a block away from the south entrance. Faculty, staff, and students all found the atmosphere pleasant and welcoming. The owner was an old buddy of Jack's. He could still remember the looks on everybody's faces when T had announced he was leaving Special Ops, leaving the Air Force for crying out loud, to go open a coffee shop! It was laughable.
Bingo Molly gathered up her napkin and trash and stuffed it into her coffee cup. "You enjoy the peace and quiet while you can, Jack," she said as she dropped some coins in the tip jar.
"I'm sorry?" he asked, not having been paying close enough attention to understand the apparent non-sequitur.
"The students. They’re back in a week, you know. Everything's always so crazy when they're here." She sighed and shook her head. Jack nodded sagely and waited for the door to close behind her before rolling his eyes. "They pay your salary, lady," he whispered under his breath.
Personally he was looking forward to their return. Of course there were still a decent number of kids around, taking summer courses, but he couldn't wait for the hustle and bustle of the regular semester. He’d loved it last spring, not just in the shop but walking back and forth, watching the kids play ultimate extreme whatever-the-hell, listening to their yells and shouts of victory, watching them study, and laugh, and learn, and argue. It reminded him why he had done what he did, why the sacrifices were worth it.
They had all said that T was crazy not to reup, and had outright laughed at his plan to open a coffee shop, of all things. Kawalsky had been diligent about trying to change his mind, even through that last night when they all took T out to toast and roast him. The elite special ops boys, on top of the world, shooting pool, shaking their heads at their stubborn almost-former teammate. Lots of beer, lots of backslapping.
That was the last night they would ever all be together.
The next time Jack saw T was at the memorial service. Even that was pretty fuzzy. He remembered sitting next to Barbara and how tightly she gripped his hand; he remembered holding Ferretti's sister. T had hung back, offered brief condolences to the families, and slipped a business card into Jack's pocket. "If you ever have need, O'Neill."
The damn coffee shop.
Jack had almost thrown it away in anger, or maybe jealousy. But he didn't. He tucked it away in his desk drawer, where it lay for several months. Months of physical rehabilitation, psych evaluations, medical leave until he finally decided, over the Air Force's strong objections, to get the hell out of there. It wasn’t until he was packing up that he found the card again. He was dialing the number before he knew it.