Never Go In Against An Archaeologist.

This whole thing was completely ridiculous. Utterly, fantastically absurd.
Nevertheless, Daniel nervously darted his eyes around the locker room, searching the shadows. He cautiously scouted every inch, all too conscious it could be anyone at the SGC, and he didn't think any female enlisted or officer would hesitate to hide out in here. Catch their prey when most vulnerable. Modesty was not the concern; no, he could bare his flesh as easily as a stripper could. More the issue was potential pain that could be inflicted on areas of his anatomy he preferred to remain pain-free, thank you. He was making himself way too defenseless, but this was a necessary evil after Jack had spilled about a gallon of Diet Dr. Pepper on him in the commissary.
Wait a minute...it could be Jack. On his way to the showers, Nyan had cornered him with a translation problem that absolutely had to be resolved immediately. He'd stood in uncomfortable stickiness, corrected a mistake that was rookie if he thought about it, for a good number of minutes. Plenty of time for Jack to make it down here and lie in wait. That shifty, lowdown bastard. Of all the people on base, he would be unfortunate enough to have Jack be his stalker - there was only one person who'd be worse. He wondered how much it had taken to pay Nyan off. Unless Nyan had been Jack's original target, had already been eliminated, and he'd been *Nyan's* hit. The assassin took over the kill's target until there was no one left.
Augh, this was so stupid! Why in the world the powers that be felt this was a morale building exercise was beyond him. Actually, the whole 'game' reeked of training practice. Only more juvenile. How would sneaking around and killing designated 'targets' with rubber bands while no one was around to visually witness the act even remotely build morale? If anything, it fostered subterfuge and deception. And stealth, Jack would remind him, strategy and cunning. Which ultimately all meant the same thing.
Whatever. If he wasn't careful, what it would bring for him was a very real pain in the ass. Or somewhere even more crucial. Resigned to his fate, Daniel quickly stripped every article of clothing off, save the rubber band around his wrist. He had no idea why, but he really didn't want to let himself get killed within the first few hours of the game. Actually, he'd like to stay alive long enough to make his own kill just to demonstrate to everyone he could, even if he didn't approve or like it. With that thought in mind, he slipped the rubber band off to have at the ready and suddenly realized he'd made a severe tactical error. He hadn't checked the showers, almost stupidly sauntered right on in. A six-foot and naked bull's-eye.
Screw the shower. He'd just give himself a quick sponge bath, using the sink. Out here, he could keep an eye on the door and the entrance to the showers. How long would Jack linger back there before coming to eliminate him in the dressing area? Not very. Of course, Daniel reasoned he could be letting paranoia carry him away. He'd feel like an idiot if it turned out no one was back there at all. But at least he'd still be 'alive'.
Snagging a washcloth, he doused it with a pump of hand soap and hot water. Spilling carelessly on the floor because his attention was elsewhere, Daniel carefully spread his feet around the puddle and locked his knees. He ran the cloth over his chest and down to his stomach, his flesh immediately breaking out in goose bumps as cool air floated over the wet surface. Gritting his teeth, he did a perfunctory sweep of his Diet Dr. Peppered groin - 'wouldn't you like to be a Pepper, too?' he thought sardonically - and finished by brushing the now cool cloth on his thighs. He slapped the washrag into the basin of the sink, briskly walking back to his cubicle for a towel. His cubicle that was in directly line of the door, and so uncomfortably close to the showers exit. Sighing, he tucked himself into the cubby to gain at least some cover, eyes still dashing to and from each of his marks. He added Seriously Unhealthy to his list of negative adjectives describing this game. Before all was said and done, he was sure to have an ulcer.
Doing a half-assed job of drying off, Daniel struggled to pull his dark grey boxer briefs one handedly up his still damp thighs, the other hand poised and ready to fire his rubber band. Kill or be killed, he had to remind himself, and was sickened by it. What was he doing? He wasn't going to stalk Janet down - trap her in her office or some dark corner somewhere to do what he had to do. It was far too sordid and reminiscent of...something he didn't want to even think about, let alone give voice to. Bad. Bad comparison. He had to get his mind off of that, giving up his stakeout on the door to yank at the stubborn cotton still clinging mid thigh.
And this, of course, was the time Doctor Janet Fraiser chose to make an appearance. Bursting quickly but alarmingly quietly through the door, she startled Daniel despite his preparation and he jerked. Task unfinished, leaving him unbalanced, he fell and knew it was going to hurt like hell. He tried to curl up to protect his bared assets, failing miserably and sprawling flat out on the floor. Rocketing pain burned through his groin, essentially crippling him as he heard the small woman curse under her breath and rush to his side. Something about him not being the right person...she was here because of the game! The game. Cunning and strategy... Emitting a pitiable groan, Daniel turned his head to locate Janet and pinned earnest, pain-filled eyes up at her. She relaxed, eyes softening.
"Daniel! Are you okay? Did you hit your head, or just your..." she trailed off, blushing a charming shade of pink. Well, well, wasn't that interesting? Janet had seen him naked about a thousand times and he'd never got that reaction before.
Game, set and match.
Without further ado, mostly because he didn't know how long he could keep up the deception, Daniel twisted, aimed his rubber band and lobbed it gently at Janet's left breast. And a fine breast it was, he thought with an internal smirk. The band hit with a thwap and plopped onto the floor. She gasped, mouth opening and closing in astonishment. The mirth he felt was wholly inappropriate, but also quite satisfying. Perhaps he had underestimated the value of this game.
"I'm good, Janet. But you're dead."
"You sneaky little..."
"Hey! Is it my fault you didn't consider me a threat?" Daniel laughingly teased, quickly yanking his shorts on before she got any ideas. "Out of curiosity, who were you coming here for?"
"Teal'c," she said with a smug grin.
Teal'c? That couldn't be right. If there were a betting pool, Daniel would have put all his money on his Jaffa friend to be the victor of this game...but he didn't understand how Janet thought the other man would be here. He searched her face with his best entreating look, gaining nothing but that same smug smile. Damn. She was dead, and she wasn't talking.
"You'd better get dressed, Daniel. You've got a date with Teal'c. Actually, I'm impressed you haven't already..." she solemnly trailed off, confusing him all the more. She stood up and gave him a little headshake. "As much as it would be nice to see you win this, I can't say I have confidence. Though the trick you just played on me was top notch."
"What trick?" he mumbled, remembered his throbbing...not pleasurably...member at last. Wincing, he reached a hand down to comically cradle his crotch. Janet giggled and blushed again, signaling all was forgiven. Then her words hit home. "Wait, what do you mean? Are Teal'c and I the only ones left now? Already?"
"You know I can't tell you anything. I've already said too much."
Janet's head bobbed toward the showers and she nodded emphatically, mouthing 'good luck' before slipping him her rubber band and exiting the locker room. Sitting on the cold floor, Daniel was at a loss as to what to do. He had thought it bad when Jack was his suspected assassin. Teal'c must have eliminated Jack... augh, it didn't matter. Obviously, by now Teal'c knew he wasn't going in to the showers, which meant it was only a matter of time before the Jaffa made his move. Crap. Crap! He'd told himself he didn't care about this stupid game, but now that he was this close to possibly winning the entire thing...well, he was only human. His competitive nature was something he hid very well, and when it surfaced? Look out, world. Look out, Teal'c.
Deciding Teal'c would never expect him to actually engage a battle, Daniel looked around the quiet room for anything that might aid his mission. The faucet dripped, a soggy sound floating over to him as the water plunked onto the soaked washcloth. And he saw it, the means to Teal'c's end - a dental mirror. Not exactly a mini-scope, but it could still be used to locate the other man's hiding spot. Grinning to himself, he scrambled to his feet and started to jog over there. Two steps away, he heard slight rustling movement from behind him and knew his friend was about to pounce. His grin widened at Teal'c's uncharacteristic giveaway, knowing the other man was probably reprimanding himself for it. He readied both rubber bands, pivoting around to face his attacker.
And promptly slipped in the puddle of water he'd made earlier. His arms flailed as he tried to regain balance, but he knew it was a hopeless struggle. Both his legs chose to go a different direction, both losing contact with the floor at the same time and flipping him backward. Turning his head, he saw Teal'c's smug, victorious expression change to one of alarm. He let go of one of the rubber bands, vaguely seeing it fly across the room as his head smacked the metal-rimmed sink.
Then all he saw were stars, blue and purple and bright red ones, for a good minute, and then Teal'c's face loomed above him. His friend's lips were moving, but no words reached his ears through the static still rumbling there. Frowning, Daniel tried to lift his head, getting about half a centimeter before he realized how foolish that was.
"Da..l...Jac...son...ou...not...mov..."
Words cutting in and out, Daniel found it didn't matter if he heard them all. He understood all too well that Teal'c was telling him not to move. No argument, there. Through the haze of pain, though, his mind wondered if his off balance shot had struck its intended target. It would blow everything for him to just come out and ask, but what else was he going to do? Fumbling with his remaining weapon, he was about to attempt speech when sound came back fully.
"You may be concussed. I will locate Doctor Fraiser," Teal'c grimly stated, frown cutting deep lines into his face as he started to move away.
"Wait, Teal'c...I have to know..." he weakly said.
"Yes, Daniel Jackson?"
"Did I get you?"
"You did not."
"Did you...did you get me?"
There was a long pause, and Teal'c's eyes narrowed suspiciously, flitting from his face down toward his hands. Before the other man had a chance to reclaim his rubber band, Daniel flicked his and watched it snap directly on the gold tattoo on his friend's forehead. Blinking, Teal'c reeled out of his sight for a moment and reappeared with a half amused, half perturbed light in his eyes.
"You truly are a shrewd warrior, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said, bowing his head in homage to Daniel's supposed skills. "I had believed you to be injured. It was a ploy in which I should not have been ensnared, especially considering it is the identical one you used upon Doctor Fraiser. Were I still in the service of Apophis, I would be punished severely for such an error."
He'd just won! Woo! Woo ho...woozy. Grayness started creeping around the edges of his vision as his stomach heaved slightly.
"Daniel Jackson? You are unwell."
"Oh, you could say that," he muttered, lifting a heavy arm to cup the back of his tender head. He pulled it away, examining it to find blood coloring his fingertips. "Wasn't really a ploy, Teal'c."
He heard Teal'c curse under his breath and fly out of the locker room, back only seconds later with Doctor Fraiser in tow. Jack and Sam followed, along with what Daniel swore was half the SGC personnel. Apparently, word had spread the game had come to the final two. Wincing, he realized he wasn't as immodest as he had claimed to himself, extremely alert and aware he was clad only in underwear in front of a fairly large group of gawkers. Blushing, he carefully sat up and strategically placed his hands across his lap.
"Daniel, don't you think you took this a little too far?" Jack chastised him, squatting down next to Janet, who was wreaking havoc on the back of his head and tutting. "I never would have guessed you had such a competitive streak."
Behind the joking, Daniel heard the concern and managed a small grin for the crowd. Anxious glances spoke of more than worry for his condition; they wanted to know who was the victor. All he managed was a hiss of irritated pain as Janet continued to probe his wound. Payback for tricking her earlier? She winked at him before peeling back both his eyelids to check his pupils.
"Well, it seems Teal'c and I both fell victim to one of the classic blunders. The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well-known is this..." she announced, pausing to look around at the gathered crowd.
"Never go in against an archaeologist when death is on the line," Teal'c added the punch line, to the delight of the now laughing and cheering audience.
Daniel smiled, inordinately proud of his accomplishment despite the headache. This game hadn't been so stupid after all.
The End

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Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, 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. This is a parody for entertainment purposes only. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted anywhere without the consent of the author.