Title: Just another day in the infirmary
Author: Floopygirl
Season: Five
Spoilers: 'Just another mission', technically
Pairings: everyone. Some m/f, some m/m (I seem to have left out the f/f, unfortunately)
Rating: R, just about
Summary: Parody ending for my fic "Just another mission," leading on from chap 14. It does stand on its own however. Multiple pairings.
Disclaimer: not mine, not even when they're in psycho-lunatic land
A/N: This is my attempt to get back at the Soap Opera Fic of Doom for becoming hugely melodramatic and taking over my life. I hope it's ashamed! To be clear, this is a parody of my own writing, which also happens to take a dig at some of the fanon out there. I'm the only one who should be offended, I hope..
I'd like to dedicate this to Jack – for all the hand-holding he's given me (hugs) – and to anyone out there who thinks that "Just Another Mission" is a pile of bollocks, but has been too sweet to say so. This is for you.
BTW, feedback (constructive or otherwise) would be adored.
Sam stared up at the white, lined ceiling. Funny, she didn't remember seeing those before, but she passed it off as part of Jonas' home improvement efforts – he'd given up on the Weather Channel and moved on to BBC America and the constant reruns of Changing Rooms. She frowned: those Brits sure did weird things to their homes.
Suddenly she realised what was bothering her – the light! It was shining brightly into her big blue eyes, so brightly in fact that it brought tears to her eyes – cause that happened a lot. She liked to boast that 'Carters don't cry' but secretly she knew it was all hooey – why, if her Dad didn't have Selmak to take over when things got difficult, he'd be blubbing like a baby all the time.
Suddenly she realised that her spider sense were tingling – there was a Goa'uld in the room! Looking round frantically, and cursing the pain in her throbbing head in twenty-seven different languages (Daniel had taught her how), she noticed that Teal'c was sitting right next to her and she somehow hadn't noticed. She felt momentarily guilty but shrugged it off – his raised eyebrow thing was cool, but it only got you so much attention. Then she saw Jonathan, the love of her life, sitting next to him and ignored the jaffa altogether. Everyone else called him Jack, but she could call him Jonathan because he had feelings for her.
Unable to restrain herself, she reached her arms towards Jonathan to haul him into her embrace. With a move worthy of his Special Ops / Special Forces / Black Ops training, he jumped backwards, knocking his chair over and almost falling over in the process. Good thing he wasn't Daniel, or he'd have needed surgery. Sam frowned before realising that he was shy of showing his feelings in front of Teal'c – silly love-muffin. Only once she'd resolved that problem and taken off her 'thinking-face' did she notice the razor-blades of pain shooting up her arm and see that it was covering in bandaging. Immediately black spots flashed in front of her eyes – there's no point in wasting a good cliché after all – and she sank back down into her white, fluffy, inexplicably lined pillows. Damn that Jonas!
"Jack," she cried (figuring that she might as well milk her injury as much as she was worth, but thinking that using 'Jonathan' might be pushing it), "What happened?"
Jack looked grim. As did Teal'c. Really, the corners of his mouth drooped and everything.
"Carter, there was an accident."
Carter gasped and leaned further back into the cushions, wishing that someone would lower the bed for added effect. "No! What happened? Where... where's Jonas?"
Everyone sent her puzzled looks, completely thrown off track. "What?" Jack finally asked.
"You know, guy in the tightest shirts ever, eats a lot, has a sinful way with a banana." Sam explained.
The silver-haired man shook his head, while Teal'c looked at her in concern, while remaining expressionless. "I believe you are confused, MajorCarter. Are you not referring to DanielJackson, our teammate?"
Sam looked confused, as if her naquadah reactor had just blown up in her face. Except, without all the bleeding and grey matter and stuff, obviously – that would just be ridiculous.
"I don't think so," she muttered, but then her face brightened like when the sun burned through the smog in the atmosphere. "Oh, my head hurts? Do you think I have concussion – and that would explain it?" Sam was happy – she liked having concussion. She got to save the day and talk to cool hallucinations and even kissJonathan. Mmm.
Jack looked impatient, cause they'd, like, had a conversation for more than three minutes and it wasn't about hockey scores, the Simpsons, or how much he hated trees. "Carter, do you remember what happened?"
Sam thought hard but drew a complete blank. A really really empty one. "No," she replied. It suddenly occurred to her to wonder how she'd been injured. "Is that how I hurt my head and my arm and stuff."
Jack looked solemn. (He had to be really good at expressions, because he got to be in all the important scenes and participate in different ways, even if everyone knew that he liked wise-cracking best). "Sam, you were fiddling with an alien device and you made it blow up. It sent tendrils of blue electricity up into the air, burning your arm and slamming you against a wall. That's how you got the concussion."
Sam frowned. That didn't sound very likely – she was way too smart to do something that stupid. "Are you sure it wasn't Daniel who screwed up, not me?" she asked. "He always touches stuff and makes bad things happen."
Jack looked really pissed now. "Sam, it was definitely you – you were obviously having a blonde day." Sam ran a strand of hair through her fingers and pouted. "Daniel tried to save you, but the ceiling collapsed on him. We got him back safely but it looks bad. He had severe spinal damage, and I don't think he'll ever walk again."
Sam tried to look upset, but was finding it difficult. She was sure that Danny had screwed up, not her. Besides, despite pretending that Danny was like a brother to her, she didn't really like him and didn't understand why he didn't try and jump her – she knew she was hot! It had to be him – maybe he was gay or something? She eyed Teal'c speculatively – maybe that was why they always shared a tent off-world.
Teal'c nearly smiled as he saw his blonde goddess look at him but didn't dare – no need to betray the alien code of conduct. SamanthaCarter, as he liked to think of her in private, was so beautiful – how could he but love her? Even Junior loved her – and everyone knew you could trust your symbiote. Teal'c's only problem was that SamanthaCarter never noticed him – it was a real pain never having anything to say, no one ever paid you any attention.
In the microsecond it had taken Teal'c to do all that thinking, Sam noticed that Jonathan was staring pointedly at her. "What?" she asked, thrilled that he couldn't keep his eyes off her. Ever since their night together when they'd made sweet, passionate love... well, let's just say that he'd been a lot more attentive. Funnily enough, he hadn't seemed that upset when she'd told him that they couldn't be together until the regulations changed, or until the President finally got around to granting them that exception to the rules, but she was sure he was just hiding his pain. Everyone knew that Jonathan was good at hiding his feelings. Secretly they were Meant To Be Together!
Jack hid a sigh: she had that mushy look on her face again. He'd bet that she was thinking of when they'd shag again. In fact he already had – the betting pool on their behaviour after they'd got together (cause everyone could tell just from looking at their faces, despite his Special Ops training and all) was up to nearly a million dollars! If he won he'd be able to say, 'Screw the planet,' and retire, except that Sam would probably expect to be with him then. Oh crap.
"Don't you think you should use the hand device on Daniel?" he asked. "After all, it is your fault he got injured and everything."
Sam stifled a cute little sigh. Did he have to keep up the pretence about being unbiased over his teammates – she knew he loved her best! Plus, she hurt and she had a bad arm. "I suppose," she replied, totally lacking enthusiasm. "Even though I'm all injured and stuff..."
At that moment Janet teetered into the room, wearing a pair of very high heels. Sam had so much respect for her friend – she was actually absolutely tiny, but by wearing six-inch stilettos even during a twelve hour shift everyone thought she was merely very petite. Sam smiled smugly to herself: she was tall enough that she could wear combat boots instead of heels – much sexier – plus, when she and Jonathan kissed (mmm) their bodies squished up in the right places. She sustained a giggle at the thought of Jonathan's – wait for it – side-arm.
"Sam!" Janet shouted, tapping her heels on the ground, "You mustn't use the healing-device on Daniel. You still have a concussion!"
Sam tried to look upset. "Oh, shucks," she replied. "If you're sure..."
"What do you mean she can't?" Jack roared. (Sorry, was that Jonathan? I'm getting confused by whose POV we're in. Oops)
Janet looked stern and scary, as she well could, because she was so small. "This is my infirmary and you will be quiet or leave!" she announced.
"Napoleonic power-monger," Jack muttered. "Can I speak to Sam on her own then?"
Janet considered carefully, and then nodded brightly. "Sure," she said. "Come along Teal'c."
Sam stared at the jaffa in confusion – she'd thought the chair was empty. Huh? Teal'c sent a long, lingering look as he left the room. Sam thought she heard him whisper, "My love," but realised that she must have been mistaken – it must have been Jack. She threw her arms around him.
Jack pushed her away roughly. "What about your arm?" he asked.
Sam stared down at her left arm in confusion, until she realised that he was talking about her right one. "Oh, it's OK, the nerve endings have burnt out – it doesn't hurt at all."
Jack took a nervous gulp of air – the dry infirmary suddenly felt as hot and sticky as a swimming-pool. "Sam, it's good that you don't want to risk yourself," he began.
Sam brightened. "I'm so happy you don't want me to risk myself! Now I know that our night of hot, sticky, passionate, romantic love-making meant something and you love me! We're Meant To Be!"
Jack stared at her in horror. "You mean that shag? Carter, I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, but... you're rubbish in bed."
"What?" she exclaimed. How could he call her rubbish – she was a Sexinator in the sack! Her sapphire-dipped-in-the-ocean blue eyes filled with tears. "I don't you don't mean it – you're just in denial!"
Jack shook his head. "Sam, I'm sorry but it wasn't till I was inside you that I realised the truth. It's Daniel that I love, and that's why you have to heal him with the hand device."
"No," she declared. "I'm glad that Daniel's going to die – he was never into me and once he's gone you'll realise that I'm the one you love."
Jack felt a hot, intense rage run through him. "Fine," he bit out, like a wolf with sharpened teeth. His chocolatey-brown eyes turned black with fury. Swiftly, but not so swiftly that Sam couldn't have stopped him if she hadn't been a dumb blonde, he pulled out his revolver and shot her in the head. "I must go and be with the one I love," he melodramatically announced, before realising that the security cameras didn't have a sound feed. Damn it!
As he ran through the corridors to the operating theatre, hundreds of armed airmen jumped out at him, trying to take him prisoner. Jack inwardly sighed – if they'd been on his training course, they'd know that they should zat him first and ask questions later, instead of trying to take him out with hand-to-hand. Duh, he had level 50 super-duper!
He swiftly overpowered them all, with his many cool and yet sexy moves, and made it to Daniel's bedside. "Daniel," he gasped, overcome by emotion (and not out of breath from knocking down all those airmen, cause he was fit!), "Can you hear me?"
Daniel opened his big, beautiful blue eyes, which Jack found so much prettier than Carter's. "Jack..."
Jack stared adoringly at him. "Daniel, I need to tell you that I love you. I don't care if you never walk again, I want to be with you always and share your life and... you give blow-jobs, right?"
Daniel looked embarrassed. "Jack, I don't know what to say. I mean, I find you really hot with your silver hair and your washboard abs – how many crunches a day do you do again – but I just don't think of you that way. There's only one person out there for me, and that's... Siler."
Janet, who was just coming in to check on Daniel instead of worrying about the airmen in the hall, heard his words. She couldn't believe it – he was meant to love her. They were Dan & Jan 4ever – didn't he realise? She fainted from disappointment.
Jack heard a crash, but recognised Janet's cute yet essentially evil sigh so didn't turn round. He'd always known that the doc had had a thing for his Daniel. "Is that all you have to say?" he asked, melodramatically. (Embrace the melodrama, embrace it!)
Daniel stared into those chocolate eyes. If they'd only been coffee-coloured, he might have reconsidered... "Yes," he breathed.
Jack's eyes filled with pain, becoming lakes of misery and angst. He drew out his revolver (or was it a pistol?) and shot Daniel in the side, before blowing his brains out.
Daniel stared at his friend's body, lying in a pool of blood. "I knew I shouldn't have told him," he thought to himself, before clasping his hand to his side. It hurt but it didn't seem too serious. "Can anyone give me a hand here?" he yelled. Damn, if only Janet would wake up!
Janet woke up, only to find Daniel pale and shaking. "My love, what happened to you?" she asked, stroking his cheek with her hand. Then moving it lower down – there was no point in wasting an opportunity after all, and everyone knew she was a slut really.
"I die, I die," Daniel whispered. "Tell Siler that... his.. wrench... was... from..." His eyes turned glassy and Janet wept, overcome by grief. Slowly though she drew herself up: she was a Major in This Man's Army and she knew what she had to do.
General Hammond heard a knock on his door, which was always open. "Come in," he bellowed. He heard the clickety-click of a pair of very high heels and knew who it must be. He stared at the woman in front of him in horror – red hair, red eyes, red blood staining her clothes – what had happened?
"General," she announced, "There's been a tragedy! Daniel's died!" She paused momentarily and appeared to remember something. "Oh – and Jonathan, and Sam," she added, figuring that using Jack's real name was the last thing she could do for her blonde friend.
The general looked very sad and glanced at the photo of his two granddaughters, reassured to know that they were safely away from it all. "We'll have to have a memorial service," he decided. "The president can come and give a speech."
"The president," Janet breathed in awe. "They'd be so happy. Oh, thank you General!"
"That's OK Doctor," Hammond replied indulgently. He'd always had a thing for redheads anyway. Plus his most troublesome team was dead – it was worth declaring a national holiday. At least there wouldn't be any more forms requisitioning ten colours of jello!