Title: Have I Ever Told You...?
Author: Jewels
Email: jhantor@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Standard stuff. Don't have time to go through all the rubbish. I only have a 60wpm average. I don't own these guys. Thank you!
Summary: Martouf has something to say...
Rating: G
Timeline: Before D&C. Well duh.
Archive: Anywhere that asks nicely.
Notes: Ok, mini challenge I'm setting myself. I have sod all to do in this internet cafe. My task: to write a fic before the time runs out. *G* Oh... sh... uh... sugar.

**

"Twenty three minutes and counting..."

Someone gave this computer a sense of humour. And if I ever find out who the smug bastard was, I will hunt him down and gut him, dragging his entrails back to Earth and drapping them like tinsel on the Stargate.

That does, however, presume that my companion and I will get out of this situation in anything less than several thousand pieces, scattered across half this sector.

I'm reliably informed that's rarely a good thing.

"Twenty two minutes and *erk!!*-"

The computer's rather infuriated tones are cut off in a squeal of electronics, and I turn my head to see a bundle of wires ripped out of the wall, the fact that they still rest in the culprit's hands, and the fact that he is the only other person on the Teltak with me, leaving no doubt that it was Martouf who committed the small act of vandalism.

"Thank you." I say quite sincerely.

Martouf smiles kindly at me and returns back to the pilot's chair. Not that there was any problem with him abandoning it. Once all the engines, the navicomp and the steering system went down, there was no point in anyone even sitting at the controls. If not for the fact that they're the most comfortable chairs on board.

Oh, and then the self destruct activated. If I'm going to go to my grave in this ship, it might as well be in comfort.

"Samantha..." I look up from my rather dire thoughts of my iminent demise to look at Martouf. He looks rather uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. And I know it has a lot of padding, so it can't be the upholstry.

"What?" I ask gently. It's already too quite in the ship. Like in a church or a library. There's something inhibiting you from speaking loudly.

"There is something I wanted..." He takes a deep breath. "Have I ever told you...?"

A loud squealing interrupts him. I turn back to my console, where burning electronics start to fizzle, the vaporising metal producing a sound not unlike... well... vaporising metal. There really isn't another sound that matches it.

I jump up from my console. I don't particularly want to go early via painful electrocution should the console overload. Why the Goa'uld never heard of surge protection is beyond me. Would it be so hard? One little circuit breaker per console?

"Sorry." I say, as I return my attention to Martouf, edging nearer his console, leaning against the separating segment between pilot and copilots seating.

"Samantha," he starts again. "I'm sorry for getting you into this."

I wave a hand dismissively, trying to act non-chalent. "Oh that. Well, if you hadn't asked me to come along..." I'd probably wouldn't be about to die. "I'd still have done something risky anyway. Living on borrowed time anyway. Everytime we step through the Gate, SG1 defies SGC survival statistics."

"Oh." Martouf says quietly. "Well, there was something I wanted to say."

I narrow my eyes with a slight smile. "Oh?" I ask. "What's that?"

"Well...." He takes a deep breath. "Have I ever told you-?"

A shadow cuts across the light reflecting from a nearby moon, plunging the cockpit into darkness. Another Teltak. Inside, beige clad figures can be seen, along with two olive green clad, obviously male figures. I try to restrain myself from behaving in a manner most unbecoming of a major, and plastering myself to the transparent barrier separating us from a vacuum, and waving madly.

One of the figures holds a piece of paper up to the window. 'HOLD ON!' it says, in rather distinctive english characters.

I grin madly, turning back to Martouf, trying not to laugh out loud. "What was that you were saying?" I ask gleefully.

He looks at me wistfully. "Never mind." he says softly, lowering his eyes.

-End