FIC: "Weakness Defined" 1/1
Sep. 8th, 2005 11:09 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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mitchells_sg1Title: "Weakness Defined"
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
deani_bean
Fandom: SG-1
Rating: T
Category: slash (pre-slash)
Spoilers: up through Season 9, "Ex Deus Machina"
Pairing(s): Cameron/Teal’c, Daniel/Teal’c
Summary: General Landry has figured out Cameron's kryptonite.
Warning(s): Language
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 is owned by people who are not now nor have they ever been nor will they ever be me, no matter how much I want it.
A/N: I'd been toying with this idea a little while. Not really sure why, but I thought it might be interesting. At the very least, it'd just the idea out of my head.
"Weakness Defined"
“Well, your service record is impeccable, Mitchell. So, what’s wrong with you?”
“Sir?” asked a confused Colonel Mitchell.
“Nobody’s perfect. Everyone has some kind of character flaw. What’s yours?”
“...Sometimes, I can be impatient. Sir.”
“All pilots have Type A personalities. I’m talking about your ‘kryptonite’. Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out...”
Yes, kryptonite. Pop culture references were so much easier to use when dealing with others, especially if the reference was something fairly universal. Well, universal to Earth, anyway. In other words, there weren’t a whole lot of Earth folks who didn’t know what kryptonite was, and if they didn’t, then Landry would be shit out of luck. Fortunately for him, Lt. Colonel Cameron Mitchell was a born and bred American who certainly knew what Landry had meant by ‘kryptonite’: weakness.
Everyone had a weakness. For General Hank Landry, it could be argued that he was a control freak, that it was absolutely necessary that he was in control of a situation. Whoever said that would be wrong, of course. Landry’s weakness? His damn near nonexistent family. But he acknowledged that to himself. “Know your own weaknesses,” someone had once said. Landry wasn’t sure what the point of that was, but he knew that it was important. It was equally important to know others’ weaknesses, particularly when those folks were under a person’s command.
Like Lt. Colonel Mitchell, for example.
The kid was perfect. With a perfect record. Eh, if not perfect, then exemplary. Extraordinarily exemplary. So exemplary, in fact, that he’d been promised practically anything he wanted in exchange for nearly losing his life in Antarctica. And what had he wanted? To join SG-1. The SG-1. Those were some awfully big shoes to fill with that request, but he got it. Because Cameron Mitchell was just that kind of guy.
Ah, but there were always catches with getting what a person wanted. So, naturally, there was a catch to putting Mitchell on the team. Specifically, there wasn’t any team, and Mitchell was going to have to build a new one, something General O’Neill had conveniently forgotten to mention. That Jack, ever the comedian, even if he didn’t always do it intentionally. Yet, that was the catch to putting Mitchell on SG-1. It came as quite the disappointing shock to the young man, but he was solidly convinced he could have the SG-1 he wanted, and at first, Landry had thought that was Mitchell’s weakness: ambition.
Landry would be the first to admit he’d been wrong on occasion. Only to himself, of course. In retrospect, he should’ve known ambition could never have been Mitchell’s weakness. He had yet to meet an officer of any branch of any military body that wasn’t at least moderately ambitious to some degree; he’d even wager that it was a requirement. That shot down that idea. So, if not ambition, then what?
Not that Landry was so bored out of his mind that all he had to think about was the weakness of the SGC’s flagship team’s commander. Far from it. But sometimes, the internal workings of Cheyenne Mountain ran so smoothly that Landry swore he could take a running start from Level 1 and slide cleanly on his ass all the way down to the gate room. Which was irritating. He hadn’t been kidding when he told Mitchell he liked to yell at folks; the people under his command there truly were too good at their jobs, especially that Walter. He was beginning to wonder if maybe he should start calling him “Radar.” A sergeant with premonitory clerical powers was like a television: useful but mostly just grated the hell out of a person’s nerves.
Yep, too damn good for their own good. That efficiency is what gave him a few moments to spare every so often to muse on Mitchell’s weakness. Not that he’d come up with anything right away after he’d ruled out ambition. To be perfectly honest, weeks had gone by, and he hadn’t come up with jack shit.
Until Washington. Well, just after Washington, technically.
True, he knew Mitchell was desperate to get the original SG-1--minus Jack O’Neill, of course--back together again, but there was something a little...off about how he bounded down to the gate room the moment he heard that Teal’c was on his way from Dakara. Landry didn’t think a brand new puppy missing its momma would’ve been so eager. Not even trying to rationalize the offbeat behavior, he dismissed it at the time as another plea for the Jaffa to rejoin the team, even though the trip to meet with the committee in Washington, DC, was at the forefront of all their minds.
And what a disaster that had been. Man, he would’ve loved an opportunity to actually give Vala a swift boot to the rear. Regardless, it gave him an opportunity to see Mitchell and Teal’c beside each other for the first time up close. The colonel was edgy, but then, they all were, considering the situation was getting to the point where Landry was two steps away from tearing out all the hair he had left. Thinking back now, he realized that there were...things. Little things. Little clue things that didn’t entirely register in his brain as actual clues.
Mitchell stared at Teal’c. Commented that everything the Jaffa said was ‘genius’. Practically hovered over the man. Hell, he might as well have been wearing a damn leash as he tagged along. So why wasn’t a bell the size of Texas clanging in his head when he saw Mitchell eyeing Teal’c like a starving man with a Christmas ham while they were in those god-awful leather getups Vala had them wearing?
For the record, General Landry thought that the Jaffa were a fairly upstanding people, if a little archaic in their ways. Off the record, Hank Landry thought the Jaffa were... Well... The Jaffa were kind of wacky. Even Teal’c, who appeared to be the most normal of them all. Normal by Earth standards, that is. Nevertheless, even Teal’c was a bit wacky. And he had his kryptonite, too. Alongside a healthy dose of vengeance, a blind man could see how...attached he was to Daniel Jackson.
Landry had read the files. Sure, the two of them alone had gone through a ton of crap together, but it didn’t really excuse their behavior, though. Mitchell had already figured it out from pretty early on, too. If any little thing went wrong with Dr. Jackson, Mitchell took the next gate out to tell Teal’c, and it seemed like the Jaffa just literally dropped everything to come running. God forbid that something would happen to Trouble Magnet Jackson. Who’d Teal’c think he was, Jackson’s Knight In Shining Armor? Landry understood loyalty and all, but Teal’c and Jackson were just ri-goddamn-diculous. Still, he tried like hell to dismiss it because... Teal’c was a Jaffa, and... The Jaffa were kind of wacky.
On the other hand, had it not been for those two, Landry might’ve never figured out the puzzle. He’d been watching from the control room when the Jaffa had left for Dakara again after the not-quite-a-team failed to rid themselves and the rest of the SGC of Vala, though not for a lack of trying. But the wacky Jaffa and wacky archaeologist had to hug. They hugged, and Landry happened to be in just the exact position that allowed him to see some of Colonel Mitchell’s face. Again, he’d tried to dismiss the activities. That jealous look on Mitchell’s face when they hugged had to be explained away as Mitchell wanting to be part of the friendship that the original SG-1 shared. And yeah, that explanation would’ve worked if Jackson hadn’t been skittish as all hell afterwards, suspiciously glancing at both Mitchell and Vala until Teal’c had disappeared through the stargate. Still, Landry tried not to notice too much.
So he called Jack. There were things that Landry was sure hadn’t been recorded in any of the original SG-1 files, and he intended to inquire about Teal’c and Jackson, specifically. Not wanting to just flat-out ask, he beat around the bush a little, and Jack seemed vague and a tad evasive, but that wasn’t anything new, really. He’d known Jack for a decent while, and... Sometimes, the man was about as forthright as a two-by-four to the head or as ambiguous as VCR instructions. Unfortunately, this was one of those times when Jack had chosen to forego the lumber for the paper. Landry wasn’t entirely amused and hung up, still scratching his head. Maybe he was beginning to be affected by that Jaffa wackiness. Or maybe he needed some time off already. Watch a good ol’ football game or something.
Then there was that goddamned basketball game. He wondered how Mitchell had managed to get them split up into teams that would allow him to play one-on-one a bit with Teal’c. He supposed there was some typical logic to it; it wouldn’t be fair to have two athletic jock-types play against a skinny woman and a geek. And Lord knows only the Jaffa might have the patience to handle playing on the same team as Vala. Plus... Locals versus Aliens. Sure. That made sense. Anything could be rationalized if a person thought long enough about it, right?
Eh, who was he kidding? Something wasn’t adding up. The theory began forming in his head right then and there, even if clues had been springing up for weeks. At the briefing, Mitchell quickly picked out his seat right next to Teal’c, so when it came time to meet the supposedly defecting Goa’uld Nerus, Landry purposely put himself between Mitchell and Teal’c, noting a frown briefly flickering over the colonel’s countenance.
...Yeah. Not a good sign.
Now, Hank Landry was not a stupid man. Crotchety and stuck in his ways, yes. But stupid, no. He went over the facts in his head: what he’d seen, what could be misconstrued, and what he’d have to be mentally deficient to overlook. The main points were obvious. Landry even reflected on every little thing he could dredge up in his mind: the looks, things said and not said, the hero-worship that went beyond standard hero-worship. The opportunity. The jealousy. There was no one else that had caught the young man’s eye aside from the Jaffa. No, Landry was not a stupid man.
A single flaw in an otherwise flawless man. A weakness.
He’d honestly never had to deal with “don’t ask, don’t tell” before then. He’d suspected it among a few of his men in the past, but they were smart enough not to let their hormones run away with them. Granted, he didn’t even know if such a thing would apply to Mitchell and Teal’c. Besides, Teal’c didn’t appear remotely interested in Mitchell; he was completely wrapped up in Daniel Jackson, so that was at least something. However, it didn’t seem to deter Mitchell any before Landry had it all figured out. He’d have to do something. Not necessarily discourage it, as that wasn’t really his way nor his business in general, but he couldn’t have Mitchell’s feelings jeopardizing any future missions, seeing as how he’d managed to get the entire original SG-1 team--sans Jack--back together again, just as he’d wanted. Mitchell would have to get over it.
Someone once said that to overcome weakness, a person must face it directly. Or something to that effect. So when the opportunity came up with the Ba’al Situation, Landry set his plan into effect.
“Gerak may be able to shed some light on this.”
“I will speak with him,” Teal’c offered.
“Very well. ...Colonel Mitchell, you’re with Teal’c. Doctor Jackson, I want you to dig up all the information you can on Edison, Virginia. Colonel Carter will join you as soon as she’s settled in...”
He sent Jackson off with Carter and Mitchell off with Teal’c, even though logic dictated that he do the opposite. If he had to, Landry would continue to pair up Teal’c and Mitchell as much as possible. At least until he’d proven the Jaffa wasn’t a liability. One way or the other, Mitchell was going to tough it out.
Despite his discovery, a small part of Landry was kind of proud that he’d figured out Cameron Mitchell’s kryptonite. Of course, if he’d known then what he knew now, he probably would’ve prevented himself from ever having thought about it in the first damned place. Discovering that one of the SGC’s top guys was interested in another guy wasn’t exactly what he might call an everyday occurrence. Hell, it was probably more rare than a Buffalo nickel. Either that, or the head honchos just didn’t pay it any mind, which was probably what he should’ve done, all things considered.
Nevertheless, even though Landry sometimes thought there was some merit to the old saying that ignorance was bliss, he’d always been the type who’d rather just know and wish he didn’t know. Yet there was something to be said about being prepared. He knew it was better to know now than to have it shock the bejesus out of him later. Then again, for all he knew, this little potential drama could be more entertaining than back in 1985 when he was glued to his seat wondering who shot JR Ewing. It was certainly going to make things interesting around the SGC. But he wasn’t going to push things. When it came to Cameron Mitchell, Landry wasn’t going to ‘ask’; that didn’t really apply to Mitchell, anyway. Because it wasn’t men, as would be the first conclusion.
It was just one man.
Author:
deani_beanFandom: SG-1
Rating: T
Category: slash (pre-slash)
Spoilers: up through Season 9, "Ex Deus Machina"
Pairing(s): Cameron/Teal’c, Daniel/Teal’c
Summary: General Landry has figured out Cameron's kryptonite.
Warning(s): Language
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 is owned by people who are not now nor have they ever been nor will they ever be me, no matter how much I want it.
A/N: I'd been toying with this idea a little while. Not really sure why, but I thought it might be interesting. At the very least, it'd just the idea out of my head.
"Weakness Defined"
“Well, your service record is impeccable, Mitchell. So, what’s wrong with you?”
“Sir?” asked a confused Colonel Mitchell.
“Nobody’s perfect. Everyone has some kind of character flaw. What’s yours?”
“...Sometimes, I can be impatient. Sir.”
“All pilots have Type A personalities. I’m talking about your ‘kryptonite’. Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out...”
Yes, kryptonite. Pop culture references were so much easier to use when dealing with others, especially if the reference was something fairly universal. Well, universal to Earth, anyway. In other words, there weren’t a whole lot of Earth folks who didn’t know what kryptonite was, and if they didn’t, then Landry would be shit out of luck. Fortunately for him, Lt. Colonel Cameron Mitchell was a born and bred American who certainly knew what Landry had meant by ‘kryptonite’: weakness.
Everyone had a weakness. For General Hank Landry, it could be argued that he was a control freak, that it was absolutely necessary that he was in control of a situation. Whoever said that would be wrong, of course. Landry’s weakness? His damn near nonexistent family. But he acknowledged that to himself. “Know your own weaknesses,” someone had once said. Landry wasn’t sure what the point of that was, but he knew that it was important. It was equally important to know others’ weaknesses, particularly when those folks were under a person’s command.
Like Lt. Colonel Mitchell, for example.
The kid was perfect. With a perfect record. Eh, if not perfect, then exemplary. Extraordinarily exemplary. So exemplary, in fact, that he’d been promised practically anything he wanted in exchange for nearly losing his life in Antarctica. And what had he wanted? To join SG-1. The SG-1. Those were some awfully big shoes to fill with that request, but he got it. Because Cameron Mitchell was just that kind of guy.
Ah, but there were always catches with getting what a person wanted. So, naturally, there was a catch to putting Mitchell on the team. Specifically, there wasn’t any team, and Mitchell was going to have to build a new one, something General O’Neill had conveniently forgotten to mention. That Jack, ever the comedian, even if he didn’t always do it intentionally. Yet, that was the catch to putting Mitchell on SG-1. It came as quite the disappointing shock to the young man, but he was solidly convinced he could have the SG-1 he wanted, and at first, Landry had thought that was Mitchell’s weakness: ambition.
Landry would be the first to admit he’d been wrong on occasion. Only to himself, of course. In retrospect, he should’ve known ambition could never have been Mitchell’s weakness. He had yet to meet an officer of any branch of any military body that wasn’t at least moderately ambitious to some degree; he’d even wager that it was a requirement. That shot down that idea. So, if not ambition, then what?
Not that Landry was so bored out of his mind that all he had to think about was the weakness of the SGC’s flagship team’s commander. Far from it. But sometimes, the internal workings of Cheyenne Mountain ran so smoothly that Landry swore he could take a running start from Level 1 and slide cleanly on his ass all the way down to the gate room. Which was irritating. He hadn’t been kidding when he told Mitchell he liked to yell at folks; the people under his command there truly were too good at their jobs, especially that Walter. He was beginning to wonder if maybe he should start calling him “Radar.” A sergeant with premonitory clerical powers was like a television: useful but mostly just grated the hell out of a person’s nerves.
Yep, too damn good for their own good. That efficiency is what gave him a few moments to spare every so often to muse on Mitchell’s weakness. Not that he’d come up with anything right away after he’d ruled out ambition. To be perfectly honest, weeks had gone by, and he hadn’t come up with jack shit.
Until Washington. Well, just after Washington, technically.
True, he knew Mitchell was desperate to get the original SG-1--minus Jack O’Neill, of course--back together again, but there was something a little...off about how he bounded down to the gate room the moment he heard that Teal’c was on his way from Dakara. Landry didn’t think a brand new puppy missing its momma would’ve been so eager. Not even trying to rationalize the offbeat behavior, he dismissed it at the time as another plea for the Jaffa to rejoin the team, even though the trip to meet with the committee in Washington, DC, was at the forefront of all their minds.
And what a disaster that had been. Man, he would’ve loved an opportunity to actually give Vala a swift boot to the rear. Regardless, it gave him an opportunity to see Mitchell and Teal’c beside each other for the first time up close. The colonel was edgy, but then, they all were, considering the situation was getting to the point where Landry was two steps away from tearing out all the hair he had left. Thinking back now, he realized that there were...things. Little things. Little clue things that didn’t entirely register in his brain as actual clues.
Mitchell stared at Teal’c. Commented that everything the Jaffa said was ‘genius’. Practically hovered over the man. Hell, he might as well have been wearing a damn leash as he tagged along. So why wasn’t a bell the size of Texas clanging in his head when he saw Mitchell eyeing Teal’c like a starving man with a Christmas ham while they were in those god-awful leather getups Vala had them wearing?
For the record, General Landry thought that the Jaffa were a fairly upstanding people, if a little archaic in their ways. Off the record, Hank Landry thought the Jaffa were... Well... The Jaffa were kind of wacky. Even Teal’c, who appeared to be the most normal of them all. Normal by Earth standards, that is. Nevertheless, even Teal’c was a bit wacky. And he had his kryptonite, too. Alongside a healthy dose of vengeance, a blind man could see how...attached he was to Daniel Jackson.
Landry had read the files. Sure, the two of them alone had gone through a ton of crap together, but it didn’t really excuse their behavior, though. Mitchell had already figured it out from pretty early on, too. If any little thing went wrong with Dr. Jackson, Mitchell took the next gate out to tell Teal’c, and it seemed like the Jaffa just literally dropped everything to come running. God forbid that something would happen to Trouble Magnet Jackson. Who’d Teal’c think he was, Jackson’s Knight In Shining Armor? Landry understood loyalty and all, but Teal’c and Jackson were just ri-goddamn-diculous. Still, he tried like hell to dismiss it because... Teal’c was a Jaffa, and... The Jaffa were kind of wacky.
On the other hand, had it not been for those two, Landry might’ve never figured out the puzzle. He’d been watching from the control room when the Jaffa had left for Dakara again after the not-quite-a-team failed to rid themselves and the rest of the SGC of Vala, though not for a lack of trying. But the wacky Jaffa and wacky archaeologist had to hug. They hugged, and Landry happened to be in just the exact position that allowed him to see some of Colonel Mitchell’s face. Again, he’d tried to dismiss the activities. That jealous look on Mitchell’s face when they hugged had to be explained away as Mitchell wanting to be part of the friendship that the original SG-1 shared. And yeah, that explanation would’ve worked if Jackson hadn’t been skittish as all hell afterwards, suspiciously glancing at both Mitchell and Vala until Teal’c had disappeared through the stargate. Still, Landry tried not to notice too much.
So he called Jack. There were things that Landry was sure hadn’t been recorded in any of the original SG-1 files, and he intended to inquire about Teal’c and Jackson, specifically. Not wanting to just flat-out ask, he beat around the bush a little, and Jack seemed vague and a tad evasive, but that wasn’t anything new, really. He’d known Jack for a decent while, and... Sometimes, the man was about as forthright as a two-by-four to the head or as ambiguous as VCR instructions. Unfortunately, this was one of those times when Jack had chosen to forego the lumber for the paper. Landry wasn’t entirely amused and hung up, still scratching his head. Maybe he was beginning to be affected by that Jaffa wackiness. Or maybe he needed some time off already. Watch a good ol’ football game or something.
Then there was that goddamned basketball game. He wondered how Mitchell had managed to get them split up into teams that would allow him to play one-on-one a bit with Teal’c. He supposed there was some typical logic to it; it wouldn’t be fair to have two athletic jock-types play against a skinny woman and a geek. And Lord knows only the Jaffa might have the patience to handle playing on the same team as Vala. Plus... Locals versus Aliens. Sure. That made sense. Anything could be rationalized if a person thought long enough about it, right?
Eh, who was he kidding? Something wasn’t adding up. The theory began forming in his head right then and there, even if clues had been springing up for weeks. At the briefing, Mitchell quickly picked out his seat right next to Teal’c, so when it came time to meet the supposedly defecting Goa’uld Nerus, Landry purposely put himself between Mitchell and Teal’c, noting a frown briefly flickering over the colonel’s countenance.
...Yeah. Not a good sign.
Now, Hank Landry was not a stupid man. Crotchety and stuck in his ways, yes. But stupid, no. He went over the facts in his head: what he’d seen, what could be misconstrued, and what he’d have to be mentally deficient to overlook. The main points were obvious. Landry even reflected on every little thing he could dredge up in his mind: the looks, things said and not said, the hero-worship that went beyond standard hero-worship. The opportunity. The jealousy. There was no one else that had caught the young man’s eye aside from the Jaffa. No, Landry was not a stupid man.
A single flaw in an otherwise flawless man. A weakness.
He’d honestly never had to deal with “don’t ask, don’t tell” before then. He’d suspected it among a few of his men in the past, but they were smart enough not to let their hormones run away with them. Granted, he didn’t even know if such a thing would apply to Mitchell and Teal’c. Besides, Teal’c didn’t appear remotely interested in Mitchell; he was completely wrapped up in Daniel Jackson, so that was at least something. However, it didn’t seem to deter Mitchell any before Landry had it all figured out. He’d have to do something. Not necessarily discourage it, as that wasn’t really his way nor his business in general, but he couldn’t have Mitchell’s feelings jeopardizing any future missions, seeing as how he’d managed to get the entire original SG-1 team--sans Jack--back together again, just as he’d wanted. Mitchell would have to get over it.
Someone once said that to overcome weakness, a person must face it directly. Or something to that effect. So when the opportunity came up with the Ba’al Situation, Landry set his plan into effect.
“Gerak may be able to shed some light on this.”
“I will speak with him,” Teal’c offered.
“Very well. ...Colonel Mitchell, you’re with Teal’c. Doctor Jackson, I want you to dig up all the information you can on Edison, Virginia. Colonel Carter will join you as soon as she’s settled in...”
He sent Jackson off with Carter and Mitchell off with Teal’c, even though logic dictated that he do the opposite. If he had to, Landry would continue to pair up Teal’c and Mitchell as much as possible. At least until he’d proven the Jaffa wasn’t a liability. One way or the other, Mitchell was going to tough it out.
Despite his discovery, a small part of Landry was kind of proud that he’d figured out Cameron Mitchell’s kryptonite. Of course, if he’d known then what he knew now, he probably would’ve prevented himself from ever having thought about it in the first damned place. Discovering that one of the SGC’s top guys was interested in another guy wasn’t exactly what he might call an everyday occurrence. Hell, it was probably more rare than a Buffalo nickel. Either that, or the head honchos just didn’t pay it any mind, which was probably what he should’ve done, all things considered.
Nevertheless, even though Landry sometimes thought there was some merit to the old saying that ignorance was bliss, he’d always been the type who’d rather just know and wish he didn’t know. Yet there was something to be said about being prepared. He knew it was better to know now than to have it shock the bejesus out of him later. Then again, for all he knew, this little potential drama could be more entertaining than back in 1985 when he was glued to his seat wondering who shot JR Ewing. It was certainly going to make things interesting around the SGC. But he wasn’t going to push things. When it came to Cameron Mitchell, Landry wasn’t going to ‘ask’; that didn’t really apply to Mitchell, anyway. Because it wasn’t men, as would be the first conclusion.
It was just one man.
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