"You're not lookin' so hot, Daniel."
Jack observed, arms crossed as he leaned on the doorway to the archaeologist's office.
"Really?" Daniel asked faintly, glasses askew and no less than twelve paged-through books sprawled on the table. "Because I feel rather warm."
Jack frowned, stepping closer.
His friend was a little sweaty, and, upon inspection...
Jack broke into a broad grin. "You have the chicken pox!"
Daniel blinked owlishly at him. He didn't have too many spots on his face, which was why it wasn't initially obvious he'd picked it up from Mary, the girl they'd saved on the last planet, at some point along the way.
"No." Daniel said.
"Yep." Jack said. "Common, let's go see Doc Fraiser. She'll tell you what's up."
"Chicken pox." Doctor Fraiser announced to the three members of SG-1 sitting on the cots and the one standing, amused, in the doorway. "All three of you."
Sam groaned, obviously trying to avoid scratching at a spot on her neck.
"I'm afraid I'll have to put you in quarantine." The doctor said, with no small degree of amusement. "We don't want to shut the whole mountain down."
The dismay was evident even in Teal'c's face, which had a spot almost directly next to the insignia on his forehead.
"Haha." Jack said. "Told you."
Quarantine got downright mindnumbing after a while, even for the one member of the team who was immune.
"How have three grown adults never had the chicken pox before?"
Jack asked, sitting on the foot of Daniel's bed, where he was translating a book about the size of a small child.
"I didn't go out much as a child." Daniel said, not looking up as he scratched at a scab on his neck. Jack slapped his hand away.
"I was a clean kid." Sam said indignantly. "Besides, us military brats didn't have that much contact with others off the base."
"Sad." Jack said. "I joined a team with a bunch of geeks. What about you, Teal'c? How come Junior's not steppin' in?"
Teal'c looked distinctly uncomfortable.
"I believe my near brush with death has temporarily weakened my symbiote. It must first focus on healing itself, and then it may heal me."
"Not a great time for that to happen." Daniel muttered, grumbling to himself.
The door swung open, and a nurse stepped in, wearing gloves. Doc Fraiser stood far outside the doorframe.
"Didn't you have chickenpox as a kid, too?"
Sam asked her friend, leaning off her cot so she could see her.
"I have a teenage alien at home who, as far as I know, has never had chickenpox. I'm not taking any chances." She said, watching the nurse who was checking up on them.
She finished up in a few minutes, after which Jack flopped down next to Daniel.
"I'm bored."
He complained.
Sam looked considering.
"I need to requisition four rolly chairs."
Jack told the HR woman, twirling a pen in his fingers.
"Important government work."
He promised.
She looked at him boredly, and handed him a form.
"Ready?"
Daniel asked, leaning close to Teal'c, whose face was stoic as ever.
"This seems dangerous."
He advised when the Jaffa nodded, and pushed him.
Teal'c went flying down the length of the room, neck-in-neck with Jack, who was laughing rather wildly.
The two came to a sudden stop at the opposite wall of the room, which was already lined with their cots, pillows, and blankets.
Jack's face hit the wall with a thud, and laid there for a minute, face-down, then rolled over.
"Did I win?" He asked.
"No."
Teal'c said.
"And no one can tell me how Daniel got a mysterious scratch on his arm in the middle of quarantine on an army base?"
Fraiser asked from the doorway, arms crossed as she once again watched her nurse do her dirty work.
All four members of SG-1 looked considering, then shook their heads.
"And why does Sam have a bruise on her elbow?"
"I thought it was a chicken pox."
Jack said, casually. He shifted a foot, pushing one wheel of the rolley chair further under the bed.
"Next time you four come hurtling out of that Gate, I'm not fixing you up."
Fraiser vowed, trying to look stern.
"Yes you will!" Sam called after her as the doctor walked away. "We're just too cute!"
"I am pleased to tell you your quarantine period is over."
General Hammond told four very relieved soldiers.
There were almost no spots left on anyone's face, and the ones that were there were little more than faint traces.
The quarantine doors hissed open, and they practically stampeded out, sick of life in one cramped tiny room.
Or maybe it was because of the rather large mural they'd drawn on the wall, obviously done in some contraband Crayola markers.
It got boring in quarantine when you had nothing to do but think about how itchy you were all day.