Author: Amberfly
Series: George's Folly.
Title: The Midnight Feast. 01/
Warnings: None.
Feedback: Yes, on list or a_.au

For the ./group/Stargatekiddrabbles/

For the purpose of this story, Jack is a seven-year-old boy.

~o~

Jack whistled through his teeth, and wriggling onto his belly, heaved a sigh. Fidgeting and deciding lying on his belly was as equally as uncomfortable, he flipped back once more.

"Shoot! I am sooo bored! What to do…what to do…"

Pummeling his mattress with his fists, Jack had tried, but he couldn't fall sleep. He tried every trick he remembered. He tried counting sheep and then rather unwisely, he counted Unas. Frightening himself silly, he switched on his lamp, deciding to read his favorite Simpson comic instead.

"This is just peachy;" he complained," I'm a seven-year-old insomniac colonel."
Jumping out of bed, and wandering into the bathroom, Jack came up with a plan. He wondered how much toilet paper he could flush before making a gigantic mess. The experiment wasn't a success, and he watched with horror as toilet water bubbled up and spilled into Daniel's once tidy quarters. "Oops! That's gonna be a problem." Grabbing the clean towels, he piled them onto the floor, and slamming the bathroom door shut, picking his way through the seeping water, shrugged with disinterest.

"Dang! Think I'd have remember basic plumbing 101 Good thing these aren't my quarters…I'd be mighty pissed!"

The consequences of having bare feet and sodden pajamas meant he was uncomfortable, cold and cranky. The fact he'd brought this all on himself slipped past the little boy with the ginger freckles, and huffing, he grumbled some more. "What a mess!" Jumping back onto his clean bed, his wet and grubby feet staining the white sheets, Jack continued to complain to himself.

"Oh, great! How and I supposed to sleep if my bed is all wet and icky?" Banging his head repeatedly into his feather pillow, he added, "Maybe I can knock myself out, and wake up when this nightmare has ended."

To his annoyance, he managed to remain both conscious and bored. With another sigh emanating from the depths of his belly, he looked at his watch and said, "Mm! Whaddya know! Almost the witching hour! I do declare that its way past time for a little midnight snack."

Flipping onto his stomach and hanging upside down, Jack dragged out his box of contraband candy, and tipped the contents onto the bed. "What a fine selection this is! Daniel has excellent taste, as does Carter and George!" Jamming the lid back on the shoe box and pushing it back under the mattress, he skipped over to Danny's bar fridge to investigate its contents. Moving the milk and juice with a shudder, Jack's little hand searched until he found the Doctor Pepper he had spied earlier that day. "Ah! Come to Poppa!"

The night suddenly became far more interesting, and swinging his legs back and forth, Jack drank the forbidden soda, burping loudly with satisfaction. "Ah!" he said "A mighty fine drop from Chateau Jackson if I do say so myself."

Patting his pajama pocket, Jack took and then studied the Snickers bar with interest, reading all the ingredients carefully. "Sounds like this baby has all the essential food groups to me!" He ripped the top off the candy bar with his teeth, delicately spitting the paper onto the ground, and said, "Gentlemen, to follow that cheeky little drop of soda, the finest piece of candy Daniel's money can buy."

Enjoying himself for the first time since his accident, Jack reached across and fumbling with Daniel's CD's found the one he wanted. Always a huge fan, Jack sang along to the Beach Boys in his sweet treble, the high notes no longer any problem. Stifling another yawn, bored with the music, Jack wondered when the General might come and check on him again. Narrowing his eyes, he played the drama card and kicked at his blankets in temper.

"He's probably to busy saving the world to bother with me!"

The wet pajama bottoms uncomfortably sticking to his legs; Jack wriggled them down his hips and kicked them across the room. Looking down, he rolled his eyes at the 'Finding Nemo' boxers Hammond had insisted he wear. "Oh, for crying out loud!"

He hadn't wanted to wear them and had made a… fuss. A loud, foot stamping, fuss that everyone in a small radius had been privy too. "Hell no! I'd rather go commando! Don't fancy little fish that close to my tackle."

Shaking his head, Jack's sulky face stretched George's legendary patience to its limits. He folded his arms over his chest and eyed the cross little boy carefully. "Excuse me? You do remember who you are talking to, don't you?"

"Yeah, the man who wants to humiliate me more than I already am! I-am-not-wearing-those-damn-shorts!"

General Hammond growled deep in his throat, his patience spent. Tugging at Jack's jeans, and threatening to undress him personally, he made one final warning.

"Jack, if I have to undress you, I can assure you my hand will be across your behind before I am done. So, given your choices?"

"I am doing this under protest, sir!" Always one to admit to being out gunned, Jack snatched the underwear and ran into the bathroom to change. Slamming the door shut and sliding the bolt across, the little colonel felt his hair blush to the roots. "Yeah, like that's ever gonna happen, baldy!" He did however, get changed as requested.

Folding his arms and shuddering at the memory, Jack scanned the VIP room carefully. Striding around the room, inspecting it carefully, Jack's little fingers itched with mischievousness. The memory of his humiliation at the General's hands wasn't Daniel's fault, but he was the one who was going to pay the price.

Jack needed quarters for the interim, so the General assigned him Daniel's old room, with stern warnings not to touch anything. Daniel had made a token objection, scanning his room with wild eyes.

"Sir, wouldn't Jack be better of in another room? His old one? Any old one? Call Jacob, this is his fault after all!"

"Son, I have given this careful thought," said the General, "but this room is close to the one I am using. Besides, who knows what unsavory things the colonel kept in his room! I can trust you to have nothing that may… offend the boy!"

"Great, Jack's Playboys are safe while my research is in mortal danger!"

"I will talk to Jack, don't worry, he will know he's not to touch anything." George nodded his head, discussion over.

Jack was thrilled, and unwisely called out, "YES!" It was probably the duck waddle that did him in.

George gasped; eyebrows raised, and grunted his annoyance. "Come here young man, and wipe that smirk from your face!" Sitting down and pulling Jack between his knees, George Hammond tapped the small nose while reading him the riot act. "Jack, Doctor Jackson's personal items are not to be touched." Folding his arms across his ample stomach, George added with a disapproving frown, "Do not disobey me, airman."

Daniel studied the crafty little colonel's face and fought the urge to splutter with disbelief. He coughed politely and waggled his eyebrows up and down.

"That's it? Are you sure? Jack isn't thinking clearly at the moment! Maybe the room down the hall, or with you? Then you can watch him…all night if need be." Daniel was desperate. Jack's melting brown eyes and saintly smile hadn't fooled him.

"People," George said, never taking his eyes from Jack's face, "I am well aware Colonel O'Neill isn't the same man as he was this morning, but I am confident he remembers how to follow orders."

"Yep! Trust me!" Jack smiled, showing several missing teeth.

Sam and Teal'c exchanged nervous glances, while Daniel sunk into a chair. Rapping Jack's head with his knuckle, he said. "Jack, I know you! Do not touch anything in this room, hear me?"

Frowning and slapping at his friend's far larger hand, Jack replied, a hurt sniff punctuating every word. "Daniel! You crush me! As if I would touch any of your excellent candy or nicely chilled soda cans!"

"I mean it, Jack!"

Jack snorted at the memory of Daniel's outrage. "So, back to the music, let's see what Danny boy has here." Sorting through the CDs, tossing onto the bed what he rejected, candy bar jammed into his mouth, Jack jumped with fright as his door flew open. Looking up, and seeing the look of horror cross George's face, Jack sat perfectly still, hoping he'd not be noticed.

He was.

"Jack O'Neill, what in the blue blazes do you think you are playing at?"

"General!" Jack gagged as a piece of candy stuck in his throat. Spitting the sucked nut clear across the room and swiping his hand under his mouth, he dived under the rumpled bedcovers, and squeaked, "Night, sir, sorry if my singing woke you."

Sitting heavily on the side of the bed, George pulled back the covers and swatted the Finding Nemo clad backside sharply. "Front and centre, my boy!" Pulling the squirming child into a sitting position, George drew a deep breath.

Jack yelped. "Ow!" Gulping and scrambling further up the mattress, far away from the hard hand he'd just felt the little colonel's eyes widened with trepidation. "Something I can do for you?"

"Oh, yes, but not tonight, we have all day tomorrow to discuss what obeying orders means!" George wagged his finger under the child's nose, but seeing the look of confusion, lowered his voice. He pulled Jack into a hug.

"Jack, I think it will be for the best if you stay with me until the Tok'ra antidote takes effect. I know this has been hard on you, but it is only temporary. It will be okay, just have to remain positive! Can you do that for me, son?"

Jack lowered his eyes, refusing to allow the general to see his tears. "Can I stay with you? Really? Because. I hate being here, everyone looks at me! I feel like an exhibit at the zoo!"

This was the first time Jack had voiced his fears and his face crumpled into tears. Mostly crocodile tears, incase George wanted to discuss the plumbing seeping under the door soaking Daniel's papers. "Can we go now?"

George was always faster than he looked, both psychically and mentally. He hadn't missed anything. Leaning down, he said. "Well, given the fact this room is fast becoming under water, yes, you can sleep with me tonight. Tomorrow, after we discuss cause and effect at very close quarters, you can call Doctor Jackson and offer your heartfelt apologies. Patting Jack's little rump, he added softly, "And I do mean at very close quarters."

Jack gulped.

TBC..