Curing common ailments….by roo

Jack O'Neill hated feeling like this, but knew there was nothing he could do but wait it out.

Man could walk on the Moon, give the Hubble telescope a corrective lens, and build returnable Space Shuttles but could not cure the common cold. No way. No how.

He swallowed painfully again, his throat sore. It was weird; his nose was runny and bunged up at the same time. How could that be? His head ached, little fireworks going off, wearing him down. His eyes hurt, his ears ached, dammit even his teeth hurt. Worse was when he tried to eat and breathe at the same time. Couldn't be done in his current condition. Crap.

He shifted in bed, feeling too hot again. Was it time for another hot lemon or blackcurrant drink he wondered? Had the requisite four hours passed?

It was quiet in the house. Relatively quiet outside too for late afternoon. Hard to believe that Charlie could play that quietly. His mouth quirked up in memory of what half an hour, forty minutes previously when he'd woken up from hot aching restless sleep to find his small son curled up next to him.

"Don't be mad daddy. I know mommy said you were sick but I wanted to see you."

"Thangs, sport. Bud, I don't want to give you this nasty cold, okay?"

Charlie nodded, "Maybe mommy can kiss it better," he suggested. Jack smiled at the wicked thought that intruded, but his comment to Charlie turned into a dry cough instead. His son scrambled off the bed, "I'll get mommy,"

"Good idea" croaked Jack closing his eyes. A few moments later Sara appeared. He knew if his nose wasn't so bunged up he'd be able to smell her perfume, light, subtle but there. Much like the lady herself. A cool hand pressed against his forehead, calming the fireworks briefly, before lifting off again. His eyes popped open, already missing the coolness.

"Hey," she smiled down at him. He smiled back, and then sniffed, one hand groping for the tissue box. She handed him a tissue as his nose ran again. "Bet you feel a rotten as you look," she commented.

"Thangs bery buch," he grumbled.

"Just hang on little longer, while I sort some things out and be right back,"

"I'll be here,"

"You better be, flyboy!" his answer was a sneeze. Everything still ached as he waited for whatever it was she was doing, for her return. He tried to will the headache away, tried to sleep. And didn't realise he'd drifted until he felt a dip in the bed.

"What..?"

"Ssshh. Here's a hot lemon drink for you. It's cooled slightly so you can drink it now."

He hoisted himself up a bit and reached for the drink, hoping it would provide some respite to the ills that ailed him. That proved it, brain totally fried. He didn't know he could think like that let alone say it…He finished the drink and scooted down into bed again, sprawling slightly, seeking cooler spots.

Eyes tight shut, he tried to relax and let the soothing comforting thingies in the hot lemon do their magic stuff. Not that it had particularly worked so far, but a few extra Vitamin C's couldn't hurt along with the Tylenol.

Eyes wide open. He realised Sara hadn't left...which meant…He turned over.

"I was wondering when you'd notice. Poor baby, you must really be out of it!"

"So wad's the plan. Wad aboud Charlie?"

"Operation clean up and R&R. I managed to engineer a sleepover for Charlie tonight,"

"This been you're gonna kiss it better?" he asked hopefully.

"Not exactly but trust me. You'll feel better." she laughed at his crestfallen flushed bleary face.

He watched confused as she got out of bed dressed in bed shorts and tank top and got him clean boxers and t shirt and then turned the shower on.

"You've been stewing in there for long enough, so come on out and clean up a little. Just a quick rinse then out again. I know you feel hot but a warm shower is better than a cool one okay?"

Wearily he dragged himself out of bed, "You cobig id?" he asked nasally.

"You don't have the energy flyboy," sadly he knew she was right. The warm shower did feel good but he was glad to get out. Sara waited for him with the towels, drying him off carefully and dressing him.

Back in bed he blew his nose again, he still ached, his throat was still sore. As he lay down Sara eased a pillow onto her lap and guided his aching head there. She fitted something dark over his eyes.

"What?"

"Don't get excited, it's just one of those sleep eye masks they give you on the plane. Though it would block out some of the light for you."

"Oh,"

Thee next thing he felt was something cool being rubbed over his forehead. And it stayed cool. Dampening the fiery headache. Light fingers gently rubbed his skull in circles and eased the throbbing headache too.

"What?" he asked again

"Shhh"

So he shut up. He could get used to this, pillowed in his wife's lap while she did some magic head massage. It was kind of soothing. Taking the shower had refreshed his body but in other ways, Sara was correct. He really didn't have the energy for anything else. Who knew fighting cold bugs could be so tiring? He didn't know his wife could do this. "Thanks", he mumbled as he drifted off to sleep at last.

Sara stared down at him. He was just like a big kid sometimes. Always wanting to know what was going on. But he was never a good patient, apart from when he was really feeling ill. At that point he got pretty quiet. And nobody felt good when they had a cold, common or not. So she considered it her duty for the sanity of all concerned if she helped him out a little bit.

Charlie had given her the idea when he came downstairs suggesting she make it okay if she just kissed dad better- like she would do for him when he scraped his knee or whatever. She drew the line at kissing a man with a nasty head cold, however adorable he was, and even if he was her husband. With luck the feverish part of the cold would be gone by tomorrow and then he'd just have the congested nose bit. And assuming it didn't go to his chest and get a cough, well he'd bugging her and Charlie at home for at least another few days at least. There was no way he'd be able to fly like this anyway.

Jack mumbled something and turned over slightly, his mouth partly open as he couldn't breathe through his nose. That and his hot hand on her leg dispelled any romantic notions she might have had, and she knew what that gleam in his eye meant when he'd asked about the shower earlier. Even when they were ill, you couldn't keep them down.