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Title: Nothing can be said to be certain
Fandom: SGA
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Black humor, references to canonical character deaths
Words: 590
Summary: In the depths of Stargate Command, unsung heroes toil away at thankless tasks. Written for Cliche Bingo and the prompt “Taxes”, based on an idea suggested by
scribblesinink.
Author's Note: Thanks to
scribblesinink for the beta and
sgafan and
elena_tiriel for Americanizing.
oOo Sergeant Hernandez found the relevant manual and hauled it off the shelf. She sighed as she lugged it over to her desk and opened it. If there was one thing she hated more than having to deal with the IRS or the CRA, or the multiple levels of the German tax system, or the sheer incomprehensibility of the Czechs—what had possessed them to hire that guy, Zelenka, anyway?—it was having to deal with the freaking British tax system.
If she ever had to call them, she couldn't understand a damn word they said, and it always sounded like they were writing everything down with quill pens or something. Even the name—Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs—made Hernandez feel like she wanted to start the Revolutionary War all over again.
Mind you, dealing with the tax authorities was nothing compared to dealing with the civilian scientists who worked for the SGC. The military were a breeze to handle, because most all of them just had their service pay, and the Air Force, or whoever, understood about people being out of contact for weeks on end. The civilian scientists first joined SGC and then—God help her—came and whined to her that they already had an accountant, and could handle their own tax affairs, thankyouverymuch.
At which point, she'd have to sit them down and give them The Talk. How it was in their contract that SGC would handle all their tax affairs. How they really couldn't tell some random accountant in Nowheresville, USA, that they'd been "out of the country" for six months when they couldn't actually name the country they had been in, or provide any evidence they'd been through border control. Sure, the new regs from Homeland Security might keep the country safe, but they made it a whole lot harder for her to do her job for an agency tasked with keeping the whole planet safe from being enslaved by aliens who made the Taliban look like a bunch of Girl Scouts.
Not to mention, the whole freaking mess had got a hundred times worse with the Atlantis expedition. More scientists, a whole new set of manuals—including that damn Czech one—and running into a second tax year before they'd even managed to make contact again. And then when they did....
Hernandez sighed again as she opened the manual. She was so not looking forward to having to explain to some plummy-voiced, pencil-pushing British bureaucrat that one of their citizens—sorry, subjects—was dead, and really wouldn't be paying any more taxes any time soon.
She remembered this guy too. Only met him a couple of times, but he'd stuck out from the herd because he'd been a nice man. Cute, as well. Pity ....
Reading the crib sheet at the front of the file, Hernandez rolled her eyes. Great: she'd forgotten the British were also very big on knowing what had happened to their people if they died abroad. So she'd also have to talk to a coroner, and yes, Hernandez was sure the guy was dead even though there wasn't a body to be shipped back, and yes, she already had sworn affidavits from witnesses confirming whatever story she picked from the list tacked to the wall of her office for cause of death without a corpse, and no, the witnesses weren't available to be interviewed further....
Sighing for a third time, Hernandez mentally steeled herself. Pulling a legal pad towards her, she wrote across the top: Doctor Peter Grodin.
Fandom: SGA
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Black humor, references to canonical character deaths
Words: 590
Summary: In the depths of Stargate Command, unsung heroes toil away at thankless tasks. Written for Cliche Bingo and the prompt “Taxes”, based on an idea suggested by
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Author's Note: Thanks to
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If she ever had to call them, she couldn't understand a damn word they said, and it always sounded like they were writing everything down with quill pens or something. Even the name—Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs—made Hernandez feel like she wanted to start the Revolutionary War all over again.
Mind you, dealing with the tax authorities was nothing compared to dealing with the civilian scientists who worked for the SGC. The military were a breeze to handle, because most all of them just had their service pay, and the Air Force, or whoever, understood about people being out of contact for weeks on end. The civilian scientists first joined SGC and then—God help her—came and whined to her that they already had an accountant, and could handle their own tax affairs, thankyouverymuch.
At which point, she'd have to sit them down and give them The Talk. How it was in their contract that SGC would handle all their tax affairs. How they really couldn't tell some random accountant in Nowheresville, USA, that they'd been "out of the country" for six months when they couldn't actually name the country they had been in, or provide any evidence they'd been through border control. Sure, the new regs from Homeland Security might keep the country safe, but they made it a whole lot harder for her to do her job for an agency tasked with keeping the whole planet safe from being enslaved by aliens who made the Taliban look like a bunch of Girl Scouts.
Not to mention, the whole freaking mess had got a hundred times worse with the Atlantis expedition. More scientists, a whole new set of manuals—including that damn Czech one—and running into a second tax year before they'd even managed to make contact again. And then when they did....
Hernandez sighed again as she opened the manual. She was so not looking forward to having to explain to some plummy-voiced, pencil-pushing British bureaucrat that one of their citizens—sorry, subjects—was dead, and really wouldn't be paying any more taxes any time soon.
She remembered this guy too. Only met him a couple of times, but he'd stuck out from the herd because he'd been a nice man. Cute, as well. Pity ....
Reading the crib sheet at the front of the file, Hernandez rolled her eyes. Great: she'd forgotten the British were also very big on knowing what had happened to their people if they died abroad. So she'd also have to talk to a coroner, and yes, Hernandez was sure the guy was dead even though there wasn't a body to be shipped back, and yes, she already had sworn affidavits from witnesses confirming whatever story she picked from the list tacked to the wall of her office for cause of death without a corpse, and no, the witnesses weren't available to be interviewed further....
Sighing for a third time, Hernandez mentally steeled herself. Pulling a legal pad towards her, she wrote across the top: Doctor Peter Grodin.
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Date: 2009-07-17 03:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-18 04:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-17 07:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-18 04:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-17 10:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-18 04:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-18 12:40 am (UTC)Nice pov use. I liked it!
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Date: 2009-07-18 04:49 pm (UTC)Glad you enjoyed the POV... she was a lot of fun to write!
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Date: 2009-07-18 02:29 am (UTC)Nicely done! *applause*
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Date: 2009-07-18 04:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-18 04:52 pm (UTC)Thanks for letting me know you liked it, and that it worked the way I intended, with the humor coming across and the mention of Grodin at the end.
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Date: 2009-07-18 06:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-20 09:34 am (UTC)And yes, I'm sure Rodney needed The Talk. *g* Probably not the only one, though...!
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Date: 2009-08-27 03:46 pm (UTC)Kavanagh also springs to mind!
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Date: 2009-08-29 04:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-22 07:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-29 09:42 pm (UTC)Yes, well, that would be because I'm weird and have a thing about "Must. Have. Taxes." in my fandoms. *g* The number of stories I've written in the Tolkien fandom in which post-Ring-War Faramir worries about taxes or some other terribly practical aspect of governing Ithilien/Gondor is frankly a little disturbing. So I was very amused to get this prompt on my card.
So I'm glad you enjoyed this take on SGC and some of the silly-but-serious things I wrote about. As for he list--I think with the rate at which SGC personnel die in highly-classified ways, having a cheat-sheet of non-classified causes of death she can use would make Hernandez' job much easier.
Thanks for commenting. (And ooh *looks at icon* any chance of any more Jack/Elizabeth fic from you any time soon?)
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Date: 2009-07-31 07:46 pm (UTC)Although if SG rare pairings goes prompt rather than exchange ficathon and there's a Jack/Elizabeth prompt, I will be writing something then!
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Date: 2009-08-22 12:31 pm (UTC)*feeds non-dairy chocolate to Jack/Elizabeth muse*
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Date: 2009-08-16 05:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-22 12:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-27 03:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-29 04:33 pm (UTC)And yes, I miss Grodin too. *feels urge to rewatch S1 just for Grodin*