24 August 2000 – Osaka, Earth, Milky Way
“Is it not customary on this world to cook fish before consuming it?”
“First off,” Daniel frowns, “it’s sushi. It’s not supposed to be cooked. And, second,” he adds rather more quietly, “tone it down with the on this world stuff. Nobody’s supposed to know anything about anything we might or might not be doing when we’re not here.”
“I don’t think anybody could unravel that sentence, let alone the thought behind it,” Jack adds, poking at the rice that had come with their meal and making a mess of the chopsticks, “so I think we’re good. And I’ve also got to agree with T on this one: fish should be cooked before being eaten. Thoroughly. And preferably over open flames.”
His frown deepens. “We’re in Japan. It’s traditional.”
“We’re in a Japanese airport. This is as much Japan as the Gate Room is Earth.”
“Ex-nay on the ategay.”
Sam rolls her eyes at the both of them. “It’s like this, Sir,” she says, leaning across the table to adjust Jack’s hold on his chopsticks. “And, as long as we’re not obvious about it, I think we should be good. Though I’ve got to agree with the Colonel and Teal’c: however traditional sushi might be, airport sushi is probably an invitation to salmonella and Vibro vulnificus.”
Daniel reconsiders the items on his plate and pushes them away slowly. “You probably have a point. I’m going to go get… something else.”
“I shall come with you, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c says, practically (for him) jumping to his feet.
“All right,” he agrees slowly. “But we’re not just getting candy. Trust me, you don’t want to be on an eight-hour flight with a sugar high.”
Teal’c just inclines his head and leads the way back to the food court.
They end up getting a little bit of everything – well, a little bit of everything that can be trusted not to give them food poisoning. It ends up being a lot of pre-packaged and deep-fried foods. Daniel has a feeling Janet’s going to be giving them all a talk about cholesterol before long.
There’s also ramen – real ramen, without the ungodly amounts of MSG the kind he’d survived off of in college had had – and that’s what Daniel’s carrying when he rounds the last corner to the fairly secluded corner of Kansai International Airport that the team had managed to stake out for themselves while waiting for their flight to Honolulu on their way back to Colorado Springs. He pauses because there’s something about the way Jack and Sam are looking at each other – Sam with that bright, open smile that they rarely get to see and that brighter, even rarer laugh; Jack with a grin that makes it look like a great weight has been taken off his shoulders – that he can’t quite put his finger on. It’s almost like-
Teal’c jostles him, getting ramen all over the place. “My apologies, Daniel Jackson.”
“It’s alright. It’s only ramen,” he says, and by the time they’ve finished cleaning up the mess and gotten new ramen, Daniel’s lost the train of thought entirely and they go back to wasting away the hours until their flight is ready to board.