Rigel (n) : awesomesaucery

abyssinia4077 posted a delightful series of 5 things fic here and seeing as it was a very special day...

Title: Chicken Feed
Author: Rigel
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Disclaimer: Not mine (alas!) Don’t sue!
Categories: Sam and Daniel friendship, gen
Rating: G
Wordcount: 509
A/N: A teeny flashfic offering for abyssinia4077 on the occasion of her birthday!

“It still tastes like chicken.” Daniel grimaced as he forked up another mouthful of food from the silver pouch of the MRE he was eating. “And you know; it’s even more disturbing given that this is supposed to be tuna fish.”

Sam was heating her own dinner in a pan of hot water over the fire. “I think I’ve got the tortellini.”

“That has a distinct poultry flavour as well.”

“You think so? I’d have described it as a more cardboard-like texture infused with bland.”

He snorted. “I can’t believe people live on this stuff for extended periods of time.”

“We’re here for two more days, it won’t kill us.” She smiled, and poked at her own meal which was still sealed within its foil bag with a stick; submerging it in the water again. There was one thing Sam hated with a passion, and that was eating rations cold. The chemical flameless ration heater provided in the packet was adequate to warm the meal, but she preferred them piping hot, taking advantage of a fire whenever she had the chance.

“It might kill my taste buds, I’ll never enjoy food again,” he pronounced mournfully.

“Did you add the mayo?”

“I added everything. I’m considering adding the milkshake powder; ‘cos at this point it can only be an improvement.”

Sam fished into a zipped pocket on her vest, and tossed him a small packet.

“What’s this?”

“Hot sauce.” She grinned.

“Where did you get that?”

“I might have liberated it from the colonel’s MRE stash.” She had the grace to look slightly abashed. “He won’t miss it, seeing as he never uses it anyway.”

Daniel added the sauce enthusiastically to his meal. “I always thought Jack actually enjoyed eating these things.”

“Daniel, you’re talking about a man who adds the peanut butter to the jambalaya to make it ‘satay’ – no really, I’ve seen him do it. He either has an iron stomach, or a really strange taste in food.”

“I can attest to that, he eats anything put in front of him. Kasuf couldn’t procure anything that would faze him in the least,” he smiled at the memory.

“And you?”

“It all tasted like chicken to me.”

She laughed at that. “Perhaps the Goa’uld bred different versions of chickens all over the galaxy.”

“Oh, it’s my belief that God ran out of flavors, and in a fit of pique just declared: ‘and the rest can taste like chicken’, it’s the cosmos’ perverse joke.” He looked ruefully upwards at the sky.

“And a paltry joke it is!”

“I’m not even going to comment on the awfulness of that pun.”

“Eggs-cuse me?”

“You have a fowl sense of humour, you know that.”

“I just enjoy the bantam.”

“That’s nothing to crow about.”

“Okay, I’m out,” Sam laughed.

“So am I.” He flashed a grin at her. “Eat your dinner.”

She settled herself companionably next to him, and opened the packet. Holding up a forkful, she eyed it dubiously. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, I think you might be right about the whole chicken thing.”