Locking Down the Beans
"Coffee?"
Jack jiggled the bag tantalizingly close to Daniel, but just out of arms length. "Maybe. Kinda."
"So, it is coffee?"
"Ummm… nope. Brightman said no to coffee."
"Tease." Daniel pulled his BDU jacket over the sling on his arm, wincing at the pull of stitches hidden under a layer of surgical gauze. "I'm still trying to figure out why being shot in the shoulder would stop me from drinking coffee."
"Futzes with your antibiotics?" Jack held the bag up to his nose and took a deep breath. "Ah, the sweet smell of…"
"If you think you can reduce me to begging, then you're wrong. Oh, and for your information, I'm off the antibiotics." Declaration aside, Daniel found it hard not to be drawn to Jack's almost lewd obsession with the contents of the bag. "Do you have to do that?"
"Yep."
"Well, take it somewhere else."
Jack made a half-hearted effort to look hurt. "So, you don't want what's in the bag? Okay, fine by me but you're the one that has to explain to Carter why you rejected her gift."
"That's from Sam?"
"Sure! Why not."
Daniel glared hard at Jack over the rim of his glasses. "Liar."
"Only sometimes, and only when it benefits me."
Daniel slid off the infirmary bed and held out his hand. "Jack, just give me the bag!"
"You sure?" He held the bag out and then pulled it away as Daniel reached for it. "Nope. You know, I don't think you're quite ready for these."
"How about letting me be the judge of that?"
Faster than a man who was just shot oughta be, Daniel snatched the bag out of Jack's hand and held it up to his nose. "Oh…"
"Uh huh," Jack drawled in agreement.
"Coffee! And… oh, yes… hmm… thought you said it wasn't coffee?"
"Would it help if I said it was coffee dunked in chocolate?"
"Coated beans?" Daniel's eyes fluttered closed as he took in another sinful breath.
"Ahem!"
"Not now, Jack." Daniel inhaled deeply, almost forcing the bag up his nose. "I can't remember the last time… oh, it's been sooo—"
"Doctor Jackson!"
Startled into place, he opened his eyes to a slightly worried Jack, and whispered, "That's Doctor Brightman standing behind me, isn't it?"
Jack nodded.
"Right."
"I'll take those, please," a disembodied hand demanded over his shoulder.
"A-ah," Daniel stuttered, "these aren't mine?"
"And I was born yesterday, Doctor Jackson. I ordered you off coffee for a reason."
Daniel flicked his gaze from Jack to the bag and back again, in a silent request for help. "That was an order? I though it was just one of a long list of suggestions. You know, like no tennis, no sparring with Teal'c, no arm wrestling."
Brightman moved around Daniel and snatched the bag before Jack could take it. "No coffee, no alcohol, and PT several times a day. I don't know where in my 'short' list of suggestions you could have got the impression that these were merely guidelines to be considered and disregarded."
Jack snickered, and then quickly held his hands up in self-defense when Brightman turned on him. "General? Something you'd like to add?"
His smile quickly faded. "Nope."
"Then perhaps there's some non-corporeal System Lord you'd rather be hunting so we can end this lockdown and Doctor Jackson can continue his rehab without the threat of being taken as a host again?"
Jack fidgeted with the front of his shirt and squared his shoulders. "I guess this is where I exit stage left and get back to… you know…"
"Being the man?" Daniel suggested.
"Thank you, Daniel." Jack turned to leave, but as he got to the door he looked back over his shoulder to the bag of coffee beans Brightman was still holding. "Ah, Doc? I don't suppose there's any way I could…" Brightman's dour expression said it all. "Right," Jack conceded with a half-shrug. "I guess you're on your own, Daniel."