Christine (aka) Pineapple >^..^< (chris4short) wrote,
Christine (aka) Pineapple >^..^<
chris4short

[FIC] True Confessions of Mop & Glo

True Confessions of Mop & Glo
By Christine, Chris4Short
Summery: A POV from the SGC janitorial closet.
A/N: I fully hold Jess and my active imagination and sudden spare time wholly accountable for this. “This” being the pure, and utter, fluff you are about to read.



~*~*~*~


Well there they go at it again... we never get any privacy anymore. As soon as that door opens we know we will be pushed, shoved, jostled out of the way. Making room for them. I wish I could just lean a bit to the right and –

“Ow!”

Score! Square hit in the behind! Maybe they will think twice about shoving me aside in their passion. If only Glo had that kind of passion for me.

“Not on your life, Mop!” Glo said from her perch across the closet. “You spread me around! At least these two come in here together every afternoon. You just take me for granted!”

I don’t bother repling and telling her she is made to be spread around… she is responsible for the amazingly clean and tiddy floors. Which as we speak the two are seeming to want to use…. Oh! Oh! My handle eyes!

~*~*~*~


Like clock work, they are back. Glo is still not speaking to me, so I am now thinking about running to Hollywood and selling my story to some top notch producer. I think: ‘Science Twins Do Closets’ is rather catchy.

Strange this time no pushing me out of the way, rather just some talking. Maybe I should take notes for the dialogue parts.

“I just don’t know,” the pretty blonde says. “If we are caught then we would be transferred off on to different teams. Then we would never see each other.”

“Oh I think we can still make some time for the broom closet conversations,” her male companion replies. “After all, who is going to tell?”

I decide to wack the man for that statement. I will! I will! If Glo will not have me, then what am I?

“A damn mop!” Glo screams.

“Call the authorities! I’m being man handled!” I cry as the man grips me and tips me back rather harshly into a corner. “For the love of Bucket! Glo call someone!”

It stops, and my world goes dark once more. Oh God! I’m dead, I have been snapped in too like my cousin! No! Now all I’m good for is kindling!

“For Pete’s sake, lad, calm down,” I hear Bucket say. “They left. You are a wimpy mop if you think they will take your wackings.”

I cried, I’ll admit it.

~*~*~*~


“We need to practice the ‘respirator’?” the woman said the next day.

“Yeah, umm I figured it was part of playing Doctor,” he said.

“Wrong doctor.”

“Hmm no, no I have the right one. You are the only doctor that can revive me!”

I’m about to hurl. Either that or start pounding him on the head. Thankfully she clamps her mouth on him and shuts him up.

“I would hurt you Dr. Jackson if you were talking about another doctor,” she said after a moment that was dangerously close to another slobber fest that had happened a few days before.

“I would never dream of doing anything that may make you hurt me,” the Dr. Jackson said. His eyes lit up as a though dawned. I’m thinking another good whack when he says, “Maybe the next time I get hurt I can use you as my respirator.”

“Hmm maybe some extra practice is good.”

“I knew you would see why playing doctor was a wonderful idea, Dr. Carter.”

~*~*~*~




Ok some explaining before you read:
This little ditty is wholly and patialy Jess's (jessm78and my fault. Jess for saying she saw a pic (which i *think* i still have yet to verify sadly) of Daniel hurt (again) and on a respirator... (season 9 pic) and mine because i made a comment "Oh is that what they call sam kissing daniel".... well it evolved, or fell apart, take your pick, from there to a speculating of what goes on in broom closets...
Tags: daniel, fic, sam
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