Title: Impartial Particles
Category: Hammond, Janet, humour
Rating/warnings, etc: PG, set in Season 2. ~500 words.
Summary: The SGC has been infiltrated. Not even General Hammond is safe.
Disclaimer: Stargate is not mine, obviously. No profit is being made and no infringement is intended.
A/N: Written for George Hammond Tribute Day, in lieu of actual Hammond Alphabet fic, since I wasn't brave enough to sign-up.
Inspired by kalquessa's fic C is for Caring (Cordiform), which was done for Teal'c Alphabet Soup. I highly recommend you read it! (All of them!)
Thanks once again to Cole for the assist.
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General George Hammond put his pen down and rolled his shoulders, the joints creaking perilously. It was a Sunday – he should've been spending time with his granddaughters, but instead here he was, hunched over paperwork and making his body hate him for it.
A follow-up twinge served as a reminder of his afternoon physical, a quarterly event organised for today by his canny CMO as soon as she'd discovered February 15th meant a relatively quiet schedule for both of them. She wasn't going to be pleased about the hunching; would tell him as much, without even blinking at the stars on his offending shoulders.
Not that he'd be wearing his uniform. He grimaced.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, a glinting light caught his eye. A smile replaced his frown. It was an unusual object to be found in an office like this, incongruous even, but he wasn't about to take it down. He'd been mildly surprised when Teal'c had knocked on his door that morning and then rendered almost speechless by the solemnly proffered gift. George had been genuinely touched. It had also gone a considerable way towards making up for his granddaughter-less weekend.
He shook his head in amazement. Even the girls would've been hard pushed to create something so…pink. And silver. And shiny. Quite how the Jaffa had acquired the necessary amount and variety of art stationary, George didn't know, not to mention how he'd then managed to get every single different kind represented on such a small surface area. There was evidently much to be said for Jaffa spatial awareness.
The clock softly chimed. 1500. Time for his appointment with the Good Doctor.
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Hammond wasn't cold, as such. Just feeling a little exposed. Psychologically as much as physically. It wasn't a sensation he was familiar with and he didn't like it. But it had to be endured and, to be completely fair, Doctor Fraiser did make the whole experience a lot more bearable than his previous doctor. He only wished these physicals didn't need to be quite so frequent.
"Due to your…maturity, Sir," the doctor had explained, tactfully.
He took a slow deep breath and continued staring at the wall. Then he noticed Doctor Fraiser had stopped. Was she finished already? He glanced back at her. No, she wasn't removing her gloves or telling him he could get dressed, now. In fact, she was standing perfectly still, a slight frown on her face. He felt his heart rate increase a notch.
"Sir?" He didn't think he liked the uncertain tone in her voice.
"What is it, Doctor?" he said, gently. If it was bad news, it wasn't going to be easy for her, either.
"Umm," she started, speaking slowly. "Did you, by any chance, receive a Valentine's card from Teal'c?"
George felt his eyebrows rise. "Yes, I did."
She looked faintly relieved. Well, good, because he was mystified.
"Doctor?" he prompted.
"Sorry, Sir," she apologised, and he caught a glimpse of embarrassment beneath her professional demeanour. "You have glitter…"
She didn't finish her sentence, for which he was very grateful.
Glitter? Damn stuff got everywhere...