The Empty Road Ahead
Jul. 15th, 2008 12:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maychorianReposted commentfic here. I have a couple more, somewhere. Will find and post eventually.
Title: The Empty Road Ahead
Fandom: SG-1
Author: Maychorian
Characters: Daniel, a road
Summary: One day Daniel just got in his car and started driving.
Category: Oh, angst. So very much with the angst.
Timeframe: Season 3-ish.
Spoilers: FIAD, obliquely.
Rating: G/K
Disclaimer: Not mine. Getting no money. Have none for lawsuits.
Note: Written for LeapGate! A Stargate Comment Ficathon. Prompt was Daniel Jackson; driving.
One day Daniel just got in his car and started driving.
It started out as the usual morning drive to the mountain. The first three intersections were correct, right, left, left. The independent corner coffee shop with the convenient drive-up window and the unique roast, a steaming foam cup next to him filling the car with the scent of another country's mountain. At the next intersection, you had to go straight.
Daniel turned right. And he kept driving.
He had not decided to do it, he just did. He hadn't woken up that morning thinking, Guess I'll skip work today, just be totally irresponsible and make my team worry and drive General Hammond crazy. Guess I'll prove 'em right, all those people who thought I was going to crack. Looks like a good day for it.
The thought hadn't been in his head then, and it wasn't now, except as a low sort of discord like a deep current in a sea, felt but not seen, not acknowledged. He was just driving, that's all.
He wasn't even thinking about Sha're.
He most definitely was not thinking about Sha're.
He was just driving.
When the cell phone started to ring, Daniel reached over and shut it off, still keeping his eyes on the road. He stayed within the speed limit, with reasonable bumps above when passing. He checked his mirrors and used his turn signal when appropriate, let other cars merge with distinct politeness. It wasn't like he was on a subconscious search for vehicular suicide. No, not at all—that had never occurred to him. He wasn't driving recklessly. He was just driving.
He didn't stop for lunch. Or dinner. He wasn't hungry. He was just driving.
Maybe tomorrow he would drive back to the mountain.
Title: The Empty Road Ahead
Fandom: SG-1
Author: Maychorian
Characters: Daniel, a road
Summary: One day Daniel just got in his car and started driving.
Category: Oh, angst. So very much with the angst.
Timeframe: Season 3-ish.
Spoilers: FIAD, obliquely.
Rating: G/K
Disclaimer: Not mine. Getting no money. Have none for lawsuits.
Note: Written for LeapGate! A Stargate Comment Ficathon. Prompt was Daniel Jackson; driving.
One day Daniel just got in his car and started driving.
It started out as the usual morning drive to the mountain. The first three intersections were correct, right, left, left. The independent corner coffee shop with the convenient drive-up window and the unique roast, a steaming foam cup next to him filling the car with the scent of another country's mountain. At the next intersection, you had to go straight.
Daniel turned right. And he kept driving.
He had not decided to do it, he just did. He hadn't woken up that morning thinking, Guess I'll skip work today, just be totally irresponsible and make my team worry and drive General Hammond crazy. Guess I'll prove 'em right, all those people who thought I was going to crack. Looks like a good day for it.
The thought hadn't been in his head then, and it wasn't now, except as a low sort of discord like a deep current in a sea, felt but not seen, not acknowledged. He was just driving, that's all.
He wasn't even thinking about Sha're.
He most definitely was not thinking about Sha're.
He was just driving.
When the cell phone started to ring, Daniel reached over and shut it off, still keeping his eyes on the road. He stayed within the speed limit, with reasonable bumps above when passing. He checked his mirrors and used his turn signal when appropriate, let other cars merge with distinct politeness. It wasn't like he was on a subconscious search for vehicular suicide. No, not at all—that had never occurred to him. He wasn't driving recklessly. He was just driving.
He didn't stop for lunch. Or dinner. He wasn't hungry. He was just driving.
Maybe tomorrow he would drive back to the mountain.
