Today was just bad.
It started out badly, it is still going badly, and it will continue to go badly until I am back at home, in my bed with all thoughts of this godforsaken documentary out of my head, once and for all. As soon as the General informed me that the President ordered a documentary to be made so he would look like he contributed greatly to the Stargate program, I knew this was just really going to ruin my day.
General Hammond left it up to me to tell the rest of my team that they were scheduled to participate in interviews with this mediocre journalist who was already acting like he owned the place. I tried to give the guy a chance, I guess, as big of a chance as I would give anyone else. Just ask Sam. I tried to be polite. I even called him Mr. Bregman. Mister, for god's sake!
Anyways, when I told the team, they seemed about as happy about it as I did. Teal'c didn't even understand the goddamned point of an interview, let alone agree to do one. Looks like he will be hiding out with me for the next couple of days. Daniel and Sam, being much better people and more compliant than I am, agreed to speak to this Bregman guy. Better them than me. Sam's… well, Sam, and could keep any interviewer's attention, even with her big words. No way Bregman could make her look bad. Daniel was smart enough and much better at public relations, I guess you would say, than anyone else on the team so I was not worried Bregman would make a fool out of him, even if he could. None of us thought the public should know about the Stargate program and what happened on a daily basis at the SGC, but really, what say did any of us have in the whole matter. The most I could do myself was stay as far away from the documentary crew as possible. Even if that means hanging out in the Infirmary with Janet and her stupid needles all day.
Seriously though, that's where I am going. No way my wife of two years would shoo me out of the Infirmary, especially if she has already heard about the documentary team parading through base. She knows I don't warm up to new people well, especially new people who want me to talk to them about feelings and hard memories. Plus, I plain just don't like the man. Simple as that.
"Hey, Janet around?" I ask the orderlies while searching the room for my wife. She's not hard to miss, about a foot shorter than everyone else but just as tough as Teal'c. She can usually be found with either a big ass needle in her hand or that awful, awful little penlight everyone despises. I'd take the penlight over the needles, any day. The worst part is she knows it and always has the needle when it's my time for the mission physicals.
"I believe she is in the Commissary, Sir," One of them answered. I raised my hand in thanks and ducked out of there. It's not like I would actually want to spend any time there if it weren't for Janet. You kidding me? Still my least favorite place on base.
As I am riding the elevator up, my stomach crudely reminds me that I am actually hungry. I am so used to the Commissary food and coffee by now that it doesn't even seem that bad, especially if I get to eat with Janet. A lot of the time we can go multiple days without seeing each other on base, even when me and my team are not on a mission. Her schedule is so busy at all hours of the day and I spend a lot of my time training the SG teams. Our lives make for conflicting schedules. One thing I can say is I never looked forward to a pre or post mission physical before I met her.
I spot her immediately and can't help but smile. She looks beautiful, always. I've always been a sucker for her big brown doe eyes and her auburn hair. Every day that I wake up with her in my arms, I am reminded at what a wonderful woman I've married. After Sara and no hopes when it came for Sam, I was in a really low place, but I had accepted it. I never expected my little doctor to sweep me off my feet.
I remember it pretty vividly, the exact moment I realized that I was in love with her. It was after a mission that wen't badly, big surprise there, and Sam and I both needed stitches. She cut her arm tumbling through the gate. I remember her being more upset about tearing her new BDU jacket than receiving a moderately deep slice through the bottom of her forearm. Not sure how I cut my neck, but I did. Shallow, but Janet wanted to be sure it healed nicely.
She worked on Sam first, quickly and efficiently. All of us at the SGC appreciated Janet's skills in healing every ordeal that came through the Stargate was deeply appreciated by everyone on base, but I feel like SG-1 relied on her the most, and therefore was the most thankful for her. I knew I would not be alive at this moment if it had not been for her.
Sam's stitches were finished within ten minutes. She hopped off the table and I took her place.
"Hey, Doc," I said, smirking as she frowned at the scrape on my neck, "Am I gonna live?"
Her frown deepened. "It's not the worst that I have seen, especially from you, Colonel," She applied an anaseptic to my neck. I flinched. "I do suppose you'll live. This might sting."
"Ow, Doc!" She pushed the needle into my skin and began threading the stitches quickly. She smirked but kept her eyes on her work. "Ow."
Five minutes later, her work was finished. Sam had already left the Infirmary to start on her mission report, no doubt. "All done, Jack," She said and I hopped down off the medical bed. She only ever called me Jack when we were essentially alone. I didn't mind in the slightest. She made my name sound good.
I found myself lingering and not leaving immediately for some reason. I stared down at her, watching her scribble quickly on my medical chart that was probably the thickest file at the SGC, and it just clicked. I didn't want to leave because I didn't want to leave her. She was the one never failed to bring me back, physically, mentally, and emotional. It suddenly all made sense, somehow. The emotional part shocked me, I can remember not being able to do anything but stare down at her face, and she caught me staring. She looked up at me expectantly with a bemused smirk on her face and I know I had to say something, anything at all.
"Thanks… Janet," I said, flashing a brief smile, and booked it out of that Infirmary like a bat out of hell.
Once we began dating, I remember asking her if she remembered that exact moment. She said she remembered me awkwardly staring at her but that was all. After I explained to her the processes that were going through my mind, the simply profound revelations I was having, she still claimed all she remembered was that I was being awkward. Women.
Just as I begin walking towards Janet's table, that she is sitting at alone I might add, Bregman sits down at the table across from her. Bregman, of all people! I stop in my tracks, tilt my head, and resume walking back over to Janet. She sees me, smiles widely. Bregman turns around to look and shock fills his face.
"Colonel O'Neill! We have been looking for you all day." I silently thank God that the camera crew isn't with him at this moment. Not really feeling giving an interview just about now when I see the slimy man sitting alone with my wife.
I walk behind Janet and place my hands on her shoulders, massaging gently for a minute. I feel her relax slightly under my hands. Good to know that Bregman makes her tense, too. "I've had a lot of paper work to do, I'm sure you know how it is."
Bregman's confused eyes flicker between Janet and I, his face clearly questioning why my hands are on her shoulders and why she is allowing me this personal of contact. "Are you two, uh… are you?" His voice trails off, his hand motioning between the two of us, like that could somehow wrap up our relationship in a defining manner for him.
"Are we what? Together? Dating? Relatives? What?" I question, my voice sounding a little more sarcastic than I would have liked. But only a little more.
"Mr. Bregman, Colonel O'Neill and I have been married for two years."
Nothing more satisfying than the look that crossed his face in that moment.