(no subject)

EKUU:

Jim stretched out along the old professor’s saggy baggy sofa. He yawned tiredly accepting that jet lag had to have something to do with the afternoon’s weirdness. Surfing the measly four channels – there was a fifth channel but it was just a sea of snow – revealed a movie from the 1960s ‘Siege of the Saxons’, horse racing, a kiddy program and local weather.
Blair sailed into the room. “You watching this?” he pointed his nose at the screen as he set down a tray on the small table by Jim’s sofa.
“No.” Jim said, eyeing the goodies on the tray.
“Good.” Blair disappeared to get his own tray. Returning, he flopped down on the arm chair by the fire that he had appropriated as his own, tray balanced on his lap. Leaning over he took possession of the three remotes. Jim’s fingers twitched. Flicking open one cover and pressing a button moved the television channel to AV1. Jim breathed a sigh of relief as a small grey box, draped with a crocheted doily, tucked by the side of the television stack of video and DVD players lit up.
The professor had cable.
Moving up the cable channels with a speed which may have made Jim’s stomach shuffle uneasily, Blair made a quick and rapid assessment of the offerings. He settled on Stargate SG:1.
Jim closed his eyes just for a second.

from MS

Jim sniffed; the aroma of chicken impinged on his senses. Reluctantly he opened his eyes, a large bowl of creamy chicken soup enticed his senses. Beside it sat a tuna fish on white -- Blair's version of comfort food. He didn't generally like soup. He always tasted the metallic residue of the can. Picking up a triangle of sandwich, glad that Blair hadn't trimmed the crust off, he took a bite.

*gagg* Celery... tuna with chopped up celery? Jim swallowed without tasting. So now his taste buds were on the fritz? Normally he managed to detect the celery before it made it to his mouth

"Carter's such a babe." Blair noted between slurps.

The team was fighting the big guys wearing all the snake armor. The scene brought back the strange vision he had in the catacomb.

"Eat your soup, Jim."

"It would taste better with beer."

Blair shook his head, his eyes still rivited to the TV. "Na huh, no beer until we figure out what caused that spell at the Keep."

Jim was too tired to push the issue and just a little concerned himself that Blair might be right. Not that he'd ever admit it to the kid. He stirred the soup and took a spoonful. No can after-taste.

"It's from a carton. Garden something. I like it." Blair answered his thoughts with ease. "What's up with Jack? He's being an ass."

The scene had switched to some military looking compound. The leader was trying to get his team to toe the line. "He's just doing his job."

"He doesn't have to be a jerk."

"He's not."

"You military guys just stick together."

"I'm just saying it's his job, Sandburg. See? That Teal'c guy's obeying."

"My point, he's Jaffa. They're military." Blair started on his sandwich.

"Why do you watch it, then?" Jim asked, once again sucked into the Sandburg madness that had become his life. They had the weirdest conversations.

"I told you, Carter's a babe."