"Fourteen down," Rodney calls out as he flashes a Cheshire cat smile at her.

Correction: she really hates him.

"Thirty-nine across," he crows, somehow managing to stretch 'across' into a four-syllable word.

"Jesus Christ," Sam mutters under her breath.

How the hell is Rodney finishing the crossword so quickly? From the moment he presented her with the challenge of seeing which of them could finish today's New York Times crossword puzzle first, she knew there would probably be certain clues he'd figure out faster than she would. But she assumed the same would be the case for her, and their respective advantages would cancel each other out for a neck-to-neck, mad dash to the end.

But that's not what's happening because he's -- not to mince any words -- kicking her ass.

"Twenty that Carter correctly finishes first."

Sam looks up from her crossword just in time to see Colonel O'Neill slap a twenty dollar bill on the commissary table. She knows he likes to root for the underdog, but this is ridiculous.

"Sir, I appreciate the support, but--"

"I'll see that bet, Jack."

Completely forgetting about the colonel, Sam swivels her head to the right. "Daniel?" She manages to leave off the 'Et tu' that's running through her mind.

To his credit, Daniel does look abashed as he lays a twenty on top of the colonel's. And he does sound sorry when he says, "Sorry, Sam." But then he adds, "I wouldn't normally bet against you, but Rodney's really kicking your ass."

"Yes. Thank you," she grumbles through clenched teeth.

Oh, she'll have her revenge, she decides, and it'll be plenty painful. What could she do? Confiscate his coffee? Yes. But there should be more ... Somehow come up with a reason for Daniel to be sent somewhere on assignment with Dr. Lee? Ooh, now that's an idea ...

"Carter, focus," the colonel orders as he taps on the puzzle.

"Oh, right." Sam hunches over her crossword, but is almost immediately distracted by Rodney announcing the completion of two more clues.

Goddamn, annoying jack--

"Don't worry about, McKay," Colonel O'Neill says, his voice surprisingly quiet. "I know you'll beat him."

Normally Sam would be appreciative -- maybe even downright ecstatic -- of his unwavering belief in her, but she isn't in the mood to have smoke blown up her ass. Even if it's well-meaning smoke.

"Sir, it really is very nice you're betting on me and everything, but I don't--"

"Oh, I'm not betting on you, Carter, as much as I am on the fact someone may have slipped McKay yesterday's crossword."

Now Colonel O'Neill's the one with the shit-eating, Cheshire cat smile.

"You didn't," Sam says, not entirely sure whether to be horrified or impressed.

He waggles his eyebrows. Her brain kicks into overdrive.

Would it even matter that Rodney is working on the wrong puzzle? At the rate he's going, he'll definitely finish his crossword before she finishes hers. And she's sure all his answers will be correct. Then again, he did challenge her to complete today's crossword, which he isn't doing. And that would mean all his "correct" answers would actually be incorrect. And that would mean ...

Careful to keep her expression neutral, she sneaks a quick peek at Rodney (who's being cheered on by Daniel -- that little traitor) before leaning towards the colonel and whispering, "Bet Daniel double or nothing and we'll split the winnings."

-the end-

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