Title: I Love You Like Pancakes

Fandoms: Stargate, Sanctuary, Fringe

Rating: K+

Summary: For scifiland's Bingo Card – I Love You Like Pancakes. Full entry, with picspam, macro and fanmix, here on lj: .#cutid1

A pair

Generally, when one thought of pairs, an image formed in their mind of perfect little pieces, either identical, or exactly apposite. A pair was something that fit together neatly.

Sam and jack were neither identical nor opposite, but something in between and infuriatingly hard to define.

Sam loved learning. Each new morsel of information she gained was a gift. Jack considered school, and anything remotely related to it boring. They were opposite in that respect.

They were both willing to die in service of their country, of their planet, or for their family. They were soldiers, trained to do what was necessary no matter what it cost them. They were identical in that respect.

They did not fit perfectly together, nor act as twins or opposites, but they complimented each other.

They were a pair.


He saw condemnation in her eyes. He wanted the earth reborn, peace once again. He wanted vampires.

She saw it as a selfish ploy to gain power. But power without aim is useless, and just as likely to turn on the person that acquired. Just like one of her abnormals. Oh, how easy it must be to sit and criticize others for their dreams, their worlds, when she sat as ruler of her on personal empire.

And while he would always consider himself the noble hero to save humanity from themselves, long after he had lost the ability to do so, and her the damsel in distress, she saw things a little differently.

Helen Magnus had done away with such stereotypes long ago. Still, she was no damsel in distress, and Nikola Tesla was no hero.

In her world, he was the villain.


Seeing green never seemed like the right turn of phrase for him, maybe because he'd never heard it before the age of ten. Really, you only saw green if you were looking at a forest, or you felt really ill. No, when he was jealous, he did not see green.

He saw Olivia sitting in a coffee shop, talking to another guy. It wasn't as if they were forced to share a table, there were plenty empty seats, and judging by the fact that both their cups were now empty and neither had moved they were enjoying themselves.

And it hurt, just a little. Because they hadn't been able to have an easy conversation over coffee for months.


She brushed the bangs out of her eyes. It had been a long day, she'd been forced out of bed at three in the morning to investigate a case, and she simply hadn't had time to pull the infuriating strands of hair back.

Olivia remembered, from the one time in her childhood were she had gotten a Fringe (and immediately disliked it) that it took weeks to grow long enough that she could push it behind her ears (always a temporary solution, as any movement and they would be once again in front of her face) and a month or two before she could integrate it into her favoured ponytail. She was not at that stage yet.

When she walked onto the crime scene, Peter looked at her with suspicion and Walter remained characteristically oblivious. When she walked into the lab, Astrid's face showed understanding, but not before the slightest hint of fear flashed through her eyes.

Why hadn't she pulled it up? Because she was used to it. Because she had had a fringe since she was a teenager. Because it was one of those slips she blamed on the Secretary, one of those moments she forgot who she was.


Walter had been doing it for 7 years and it never got old.

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He got a tiny little thrill from saying it. Originally, many had been annoyed. It was cook for the first month or so, but got a bit tired after a year.

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But soon enough, everyone came to accept it. When new members were indoctrinated, they were discreetly advised about all of the SGCs unwritten rules and quirks. And Walter was one of those quirks.

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Nobody understood why he did it, with military codes unusually lax at Earth's first line of defence (which two particular members benefited from greatly), and civilian consultants making up a great deal of the employees. It may have been protocol, but protocol blew out of the window at the SGC.

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He did it because he was used to it.

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He did it so he had a purpose, other than passing notes.

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He did it because he liked the repetition.

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He did it because he had absolutely no skills, and got to witness one of the most amazing things on Earth.

And then he would repeat.


It seeped into her skin, then into her bones, until she swore the marrow had been replaced by a crystalline structure. She felt brittle, like she might break at the slightest touch. And she was trapped in a cage of white and blue, her only hope of escape being firmly rooted in the ice, as if the ancient walls had shaped themselves around the ring.

The only company she had was currently unconscious with internal bleeding and broken bones, far more brittle than she.

And so she continued chipping away at the ice holding the DHD like a jewel encased in glass.

She needed to rid the ice from her bones.