Hammond's Presidential Bid

Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 belongs to MGM and associated parties

Colonel Jack O'Neill was relaxing in his room, recuperating from his most recent mission and making little origami swans, when someone knocked on his door.

Jack sighed and put aside his swan, which looked more like a duck now that he thought about it, and went to answer. He hoped it was Daniel or Teal'c. He really hoped it wasn't Carter. No amount of apology from her was going to make his backside stop stinging. Then again, the only reason Daniel or Teal'c would visit him now was to snicker at him, so maybe he hoped it wasn't them, either.

He was lucky (or not, depending on your viewpoint) when the visitor turned out to be some nameless airman who was quivering with excitement at the prospect of talking to Colonel O'Neill, fearless leader of the SGC's flagship team. Jack tried to make himself look imposing. 

"Yes, airman?" he said.

"General Hammond requests your presence immediately, sir," replied the airman. He surreptitiously tried to peek around Jack.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jack demanded.

"Well, sir," said the airman, "I was just wondering if the rumors were true. I mean, if Major Carter really . . ."

"Dismissed!" Jack yelled, losing all composure. The frightened airman fled in fear of his life. Colonel O'Neill was known to have a fondness for his P90 that bordered on the unnatural and tended to put the fear of God into his inferiors on the base.

Jack grumbled. So help him, if Hammond wanted to talk about that . . . incident from his latest mission to P7S-982 . . .

He was just about to walk out the door when he thought better of it. Sometimes the General could be long-winded. Nowhere near as bad as Daniel or Carter, but bad enough. He decided to take something to keep himself entertained, and stuck one of the origami ducks in his pocket.

He walked to Hammond's office, studiously ignoring the stares and whispers of SGC personnel he passed along the way, and knocked on Hammond's door.

"Come," came the response.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" said Jack, opening the door.

"Of course, Colonel. Please have a seat." When Jack glared at him, Hammond chuckled. "Oh, right. Sorry. You can stand."

Jack tried to mentally calculate how many inches away his P90 was.

"Now, Colonel, I had an idea that I wanted to run by you. I've noticed that this year's Presidential candidates are a terrible bunch. I am personally shocked that our great nation couldn't come up with anything better than . . ."

Jack tuned out at this point, absentmindedly reaching for his origami. He studied the little bird. Maybe if he folded the wings a little differently, it would start to resemble a swan.

" . . . I mean, what are the Republicans thinking? And don't even get me started on the Democrats . . ."

No, it was definitely the head that was all wrong. Swans were supposed to have elegant heads, damn it! Elegant!

" . . . and I took him aside, and I said, 'Son, I'm sorry to say this, but I just don't think you're President material . . . Colonel? Are you listening to me?" 

"Yes, sir," said Jack.

"Anyway," continued Hammond, "I decided that if you want something done, you have to do it yourself. Since I'm retiring in a few months . . ."

"Retiring?" cried Jack. "When was this decision made, sir?"

"Several months ago. I sent a memo."

"I never get my memos," muttered Jack.

"Actually, Colonel, I think your origami falcon there used to be one."

"It's a duck," said Jack. Well, that cleared up the mystery of the missing memos, anyway.

"My point, Colonel, is that I've decided to run for the office of the President of the United States!"

"What, sir?" Jack gasped, dropping his swan/duck/falcon. "Can you do that? I mean, you have to have a lot of money..."

"I've been living in Cheyenne Mountain for the last seven years," said Hammond. "The paychecks tend to pile up."

"Oh," said Jack. "What party are you running for?"

"Colonel, I am a general of the United States Air Force. What party do you think I'm running for?"

"Yes, sir," said Jack, feeling stupid. "I shouldn't have asked, sir."

"I just hope Nader isn't angry I replaced him."

Jack and General Hammond walked downstairs to the control room, hoping to tell everyone the good news. Unfortunately, the only person in the room was Daniel, who was drinking coffee and looking forlorn. He brightened considerably when he saw Jack.

"Hey, Jack," he said. "How's . . . " He shut up as Jack shot him a glare that had "P90" written all over it. Or perhaps "zat gun." Daniel wasn't as good at telling apart Jack's glares since he'd unascended. Or should that be "descended"? Daniel stared off into space, caught up in the intricacies of language, and completely forgot about Jack and Hammond.

"Um, Daniel?" said Jack, worried about the thoughtful look that had come over Daniel's face. He knew that face usually preceded some of Daniel's more detailed lectures, and he didn't have the time or the patience to pretend to listen right now.

"Jack?" said Daniel, making a mental note to study the problem more later on in his office. "Oh, origami! I've never seen anyone do a canary before."

Jack looked at the paper in his hands, which he had picked up before leaving Hammond's office. "It's actually a falcon," he said. "Or a swan. Or something. But that's not the point. Hammond has an announcement to make."

"I'm running for President!" said Hammond.

"Oh," said Daniel. "Who's your running mate?"

"You know, I thought long and hard about that, Dr. Jackson. I've decided the person I trust the most is . . . is . . . well, you know him. Little guy with glasses, usually sits at that computer over there?"

"Chevron Guy," supplied Daniel.

"Yeah, that's him," said Hammond. "Chevron Man."

"Guy," said Jack.

"What?"

"Chevron Guy, sir."

"Of course, colonel. Do I look stupid? Now, where's everyone else?"

Hammond, Daniel, Jack, and Swan/Duck/Falcon/Canary all trooped down the hallway, looking for someone else to tell. The random airmen had mysteriously disappeared. Jack vaguely wondered why that always seemed to happen. 

They eventually got to Carter's office. Daniel knocked on the door, and Hammond went inside. Jack, who was definitely not ready to face Carter yet, hid behind his origami. Unfortunately, she decided to join them on their search for the rest of the ever-elusive SGC personnel. They grabbed Teal'c out of kel'no'reem, and even went to the infirmary to find Dr. Frasier, but ran away when she decided they all needed vaccine boosters that involved sticking long needles in their backsides. Jack especially winced at that thought.

Finally, though, everyone at the SGC knew, and Hammond, Daniel, Teal'c, Carter, Jack, and Swan/Duck/Falcon/Canary/Seagull/Bluebird/Squirrel found themselves back in Hammond's office.

"Well, that was exhausting," said Daniel cheerfully. "But mostly everyone knows now."

"I will be sure to inform Master Bra'tac," said Teal'c. "Though he is unable to vote."

"Thank you, son," said Hammond. "Oh no! There's someone I forgot to tell!"

"Who?" Daniel, Teal'c, Carter, Jack, and S/D/F/C/S/B/S asked simultaneously.

"My running mate! You know, Chevron Dude."

"Guy, sir."

"I think he's got the day off," said Daniel. "Chevron Guy #3 was at the computer this morning."

"We can call him," suggested Carter.

"No, I'll just wait until tomorrow to tell him," said Hammond. "I can't wait to see the look on Chevrolet Guy's face!"

"Chevron, sir."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Come on, SG-1, we're going out! Pizza on me!"

And Hammond, Daniel, Teal'c, Carter, Jack, and S/D/F/C/S/B/S (who really did look like a swan after all) went out and had pizza.

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