Pulling on the collar of his long sleeve, Jack strolled through the corridors heading for the infirmary. Not his favorite place, but at least he wasn't a mere colonel anymore. One of the good things about being promoted. Well, that and not having to undergo pre- and post-mission exams by little Napoleon and her minions. He definitely missed going off-world, but he could gladly live without those. Now that he was the base commander – a one-star general – the only thing in which the Doc could overrule him was medical issues. There was also no more Hammond around to order him to get checked out over something as little as a cut on his arm or face.

He turned the last corner and stepped over the threshold. Peering around the infirmary, it didn't take him long to find the petite brunette. "Doc," he called out, raising his brows in a silent question when her head snapped in his direction. He nodded to several of his men on the hospital beds, wincing as his eyes took in all the machinery and medication.

"General O'Neill?" Janet questioned, walking up to him. It was as if the infirmary was getting more crowded by the day and she could swear the number of patients was growing exponentially. Wrapping her stethoscope around her neck, she glanced up at him.

"Doc," he replied, his eyes narrowed at her snappy tone of voice.

Resting both hands on her hips, she arched an eyebrow. "With all due respect, Sir," she sighed and waved her hand around to encompass her infirmary, "I have patients to attend to. I told the head nurse to cancel all physicals, so if you could please come back later?"

"I'm not here for a physical," Jack grimaced and, realizing he sounded a bit petulant, pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "I'm still missing some reports, Doc."

"I am aware of that, Sir."

Motioning with his hand, he looked at her. "So…?"

"Unless someone mysteriously solved the problem of my undermanned staff overnight Sir, I don't have them yet." When suddenly everyone seemed to stop whatever they were doing and Janet could swear she'd hear a needle drop over the soft beeping from the hearth monitors – the only audible sound at the moment – her eyes widened in shock. Raising her hand, she covered her mouth with it. "I apologize, Sir. That was disrespectful and-"

Jack rested his hand on her shoulder and gave her a small grin. "Doc, I know… Hammond and I are working on it. As a matter of fact, you're supposed to receive a dozen or so personnel files by the end of the week. I just need to know I can send my people out there." Carter had delivered her schedule at his office way before 1700 hours yesterday and he was still missing some blood work for some of the airmen on that roster.

"Of course, Sir," she frowned, nodding. "One of the lab techs delivered some files about half an hour ago…"

"Your office?" He inquired, glancing around the infirmary to see if the CMO was needed anywhere.

Janet nodded and signaled to one of the nurses she would be back in a few minutes. "Follow me, Sir."

"How bad is the backlog?"

"Bad," she replied, turning left in the corridors and heading for the elevators.

Following her lead, Jack found himself wandering the same corridors he'd just come from. "Stairs," he simply said as Fraiser reached for the elevator button.

"The standard blood work usually takes between eight and twenty hours," Janet informed him as they took the stairs to level twenty-two, where her office was located. "It mostly depends on the work load in the lab," she explained. "A more extensive analysis takes up to thirty-six hours and sometimes a follow-up is needed because we're dealing with outer space, different planets and aliens."

He opened the door and let her go in first. "Yes…"

"With the backlog," she continued, stalking down very similar corridors as the ones on the level above. "It takes at least twenty-four to thirty hours for the results of standard blood work to reach my desk. Don't even get me started on the extensive analyses, Sir."

"I see," Jack mumbled as they turned the corner. "So, I take it you don't have the results yet of SG-6 and the teams that came after them?"

Entering her office, Janet quickly located the pile of paperwork and rummaged through the files. "SG-6?" She asked, absentmindedly.

"They got back from P2X-913 two days ago, on Monday?" He replied, leaning against the doorpost. "A simple recon turned into a first-contact mission and they stayed with the locals for about forty hours."

She nodded, remembering the exam she had done herself on two members of the team. "I highly doubt it, Sir." Making some notes, she looked up the older results and was happy to inform him that the three teams he'd been waiting for were all cleared. Of course, they still had to undergo a pre-mission exam, which might require another blood sample and analysis because they'd been on downtime for almost a week now since their return.

"Crap," Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, before using his nails to scratch at an annoying itch. "Guess that means a delay in plans, huh?"

"Most likely," she acknowledged. "Are you alright, Sir?"

"Peachy," he replied, frowning. "Why?"

Placing the files back on her desk, Janet took a step closer and gestured to his face. "You look a bit flushed, Sir."

"It's hot in here," he whined, pulling on his collar.

"Maybe you should take the elevator instead of the stairs, Sir," Janet suggested, knowing that the temperature here was actually lower than the sometimes-tropic temperatures in the infirmary.

Jack rolled his eyes, exasperated. "It's about the only exercise I get these days, Doc."

"Yes Sir," she curtly replied. "Do you want me to go down to the lab to ask if they have the results for SG-6 and the rest, Sir?"

"I can go myself," he sighed.

"The results are confidential, Sir," she gently reminded him. "The lab only has a code for the samples, no names."

"Then, by all means, go get those results, Doc."

Ushering the General out of her office, Janet closed the door. "Don't get your hopes up, Sir."

"I never do," Jack replied. "You can find me in my office, doing paperwork," he added with disgust.

"Yes Sir."

Sam grabbed his shirt and pulled him flush against her, her hips grinding against his. "Want you," she told him, her eyes darting around the corridor.

Jack tried to pull her off him, his fingers digging into the soft and warm skin of her waist. It was like her hands were everywhere, her arms wrapped tightly around him. He dropped his head to her shoulder, trying to keep himself under control as her short nails dug into his back and her other hand grabbed his six, making sure he couldn't move as she ground against him. Logically, he knew he could overpower her; though she was already level three advanced, he was level IV and had been working in black ops for years. But he didn't want to hurt her – much – and her supple body felt so good pressed against him.

Splaying his fingers over her skin, he felt her muscles tense under his palms and her nails dug even deeper into his back. The feeling elicited a small frisson of pleasure in him. "Carter," he groaned, his nose still buried in the crook of her neck. She had showered earlier and though there was a faint scent of a nondescript shower gel, her pure Carter-scent was invading his nostrils. The natural scent and warmth of her skin arousing him even further. Reining in his desires, he moved his hands up and straightened her top, trying to cover as much of her bare skin with it as possible. "Let go of me," he ordered, trying to push her away. When it was obvious she wouldn't obey and simply kept nuzzling and biting his neck, he grabbed her hips roughly and backed her into the wall next to him.

Jack woke with a groan and rubbed his face tiredly. He'd been having another one of those dreams, dammit! What the hell was wrong with him? "Pathetic," he mumbled, rolling over the side of his bed and landing with a thump on the floor, silently hoping that a few push-ups would clear his head. It wasn't that he never dreamed of Carter – he did – but they were so realistic and… erotic. Of course he had his fantasies about her, he was only human after all! But they weren't like these dreams that almost seemed to haunt him these past few days. With a grunt, he let himself fall on the floor, his arms no longer supporting his lean form. Exhausted, that was what he was. These dreams – or more likely the consequential sleepless nights and sexual frustration – were exhausting and yet he was expected to get up and go to the base. He'd never been one to sleep in, but right now… and he couldn't even call Carter – purely to function as the base's 2IC, nothing more – because SG-1 was going off-world today.

"Oh, for crying out loud," he muttered under his breath as he got up. Jack pulled off his shirt and flung it in the laundry basket before taking off his boxers too and starting the shower. His subconscious had the worst timing ever, because he had to be on base in half an hour and send Carter and her team off in less than two – he couldn't pleasure himself knowing that and face her. Just one look with those bright blue orbs and the guilty feelings would probably show on his face. It was bad enough she was moving on with that cop and he couldn't have her anymore – not that he ever could have her… but she couldn't know how he still dreamed of having a life with her, making love to her or simply have her in his life as something more than a coworker, second-in-command or friend. Let alone that he had dirty fantasies about her and pleasured himself while thinking of them. Nope, definitely couldn't tell her that!

Lathering his body and rubbing some shampoo in his hair, Jack tried to ignore his needs and stepped under the warm water to rinse it off. He wasn't sure he could take another cold shower. It was still freezing and there had been lots of snowfall last night when he turned in, the house was cold and he'd probably end up in the infirmary if he kept using cold showers several times a day before stepping out in the winter wonderland of Colorado Springs. Why couldn't he have dreams like this on the summer weekends when he had all the time to catch up on his sleep and cold showers without falling ill?

Rocking on his feet, Jack stuffed his fists in his pants as the elevator descended to level twenty-five. He'd checked at the sign-in and Carter wasn't here yet. Daniel and Teal'c were, but he wasn't surprised by that, they hadn't even left the base yesterday – but he'd felt compelled to ask, otherwise it could raise suspicion. As the car slowed and the doors opened, he looked around the mostly-empty corridor and walked towards the locker room to get dressed in his BDUs.

He grimaced at the smell of the room and made a mental note to ask Walter about getting someone to do something about it. Just because there were a lot of sweaty bodies in here every day, didn't mean it had to smell like there were a lot of sweaty bodies in here every day. He could swear the smell got worse every day or maybe it was just his nose – instead of eventually not noticing it anymore, he became acutely aware of it. Lucky me. Opening his locker, he pulled out two clean pairs of BDUs. "Blue or green?" He asked himself, glad no one was around or they might think he'd finally gone mad after all his years in the service. Not blue, he told himself. It reminded him of Carter's eyes. He threw the blue pair back in his locker and made another mental note to get some clean BDUs in here. Too bad they didn't have black BDUs – Carter looked hot in black, especially when she was carrying her weapons too.

Thumping his head against the next locker, Jack tried to forget about how hot Carter was for a moment. It was hard because, God, he couldn't think of anything or any one time she didn't look hot to him. "Pathetic," he scolded himself again. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, his mind immediately conjured up the image of her in his dream this morning. He could practically smell that sweet scent of hers again, instead of the musty, sweat smell that was everywhere here. Mentally shaking himself, he quickly got dressed and pushed the memory of the dream to the back of his mind. No time for Jack and his foolish feelings, General O'Neill had work to do.

For a moment he considered going back up to the infirmary to ask Fraiser about those results he'd requested yesterday, but he knew she'd let him know as soon as she had them. No need to add to her workload already. It was time he and Hammond made it clear to the higher-ups that they needed more people in the infirmary and the labs. They had started out small eight years ago, but now instead of nine teams they had back then, they already had twenty-five off-world teams and more in training. It wouldn't be much longer until they had over thirty teams, he guessed. And they needed it; outer space was big.

Jack walked back to the stairs, his fingers drumming against his thigh as he proceeded through the corridors. The SFs all gave him a respectful nod, which he returned – thank God they weren't saluting him anymore. It had driven him crazy that whenever he'd walked by people would salute when he'd become general. They had never done that when he'd been a mere colonel, albeit the most senior as well as second-in-command of the base. He couldn't remember anyone saluting Hammond all the time, either. It was ridiculous; in their line of work formalities weren't that important. They were the first line of defense against alien attacks, for crying out loud! Who had time to salute?

"General O'Neill!"

Swiveling on his feet, he came face-to-face with Fraiser. "Doc."

"I just thought I'd let you know Colonel Barnes came to the infirmary-"

"What, why?" Jack barked, walking towards her.

"Sore throat, runny nose, congestion and sneezing," Janet summed up. "Probably a common cold, Sir," she replied patiently when he gave her a blank stare. "But I called down to the lab and they promised me they'd have the results by the end of the morning."

Frowning, he thought for a moment. "You're saying he has an alien cold?"

She smiled at that, shaking her head. "No Sir, from what he told me the symptoms started off-world and are at their peak now."

"That's supposed to reassure me?"

"A common cold takes about two to five days for symptoms to show, their peak starts two to three days after the onset of symptoms."

"Ah," he nodded. "So he didn't bring an alien virus to Earth, just an Earth virus to another planet where the people aren't exactly primitive but their medical care doesn't rival ours either."

Janet pursed her lips in thought. "Yes Sir, it looks that way. I will let you know as soon as I have the results; a common cold isn't considered dangerous for us on Earth, but the strains mutate quickly and we don't know the exact physiology of the aliens on P2X-913, Sir."

"Roger that," Jack replied, before turning back to the stairs. "Thanks Doc," he threw over his shoulder before going down three floors to check the control room, then go back to his office and wait for SG-1's departure.

Fumbling a bit with his gun, Daniel finally got it in its holster and looked up. "Come on, Sam. You could just ask Jack, I'm sure he'll listen to you."

"The General told me the planet could wait," she sighed, putting on her pack.

Grabbing his staff weapon, Teal'c inclined his head. "Indeed Daniel Jackson, the inhabitants of P2X-913 clearly stated the Goa'uld have not been there for quite some time. The most logical presumption is they will not return soon."

"He's doing this on purpose," he grumbled. "Just to bug me he sends us off to this uninhabited planet, while he knows I want to investigate the culture of P2x-913 and-"

"Daniel," Sam interrupted him. "I was the one who made the mission roster and I asked the General about the planet; he indicated we could go after we're done with this mission."

Making an impatient gesture with his hands, he finally bent down and grabbed his pack. "But I have to research several artifacts after this mission and process whatever we find on this planet. It will be days before we get to P2-"

"Colonel Carter and O'Neill are correct," Teal'c intoned with a raised eyebrow.

"Fine," Daniel huffed, still upset. "Did you guys hear about SG-6's CO?"

Walking out, heading towards the gate room Sam glanced over her shoulder. "What about Colonel Barnes?"

"Daniel Jackson, is it not impolite to spread unverified information about another person?"

"Janet told me," he defended himself. "He's got a cold."

Stopping in his tracks, Teal'c turned towards the young archeologist trailing behind him. "I do not understand the significance."

"It's possible he got his cold here, went to P2X-913 and infected the population!"

"Holy Hannah," Sam gasped. "That's horrible."

Daniel blushed and fumbled with his glasses. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so excited."

"I see," Teal'c uttered quietly. "What is Doctor Fraiser's next course of action?"

"She's still waiting for the lab results and there's a good chance another team has to be sent to the planet to warn the inhabitants of The Bright Plains – that's what the locals call their land," he informed them as they entered section C.

Sam entered the gate room, nodding to the airmen present and the personnel – and the General – in the control room. "Wouldn't it be safer to send them a transmission?"

"Who knows," Daniel shrugged. "SG-6 has only had a brief introduction, we have no idea what their means of communication are. Just think, Sam! We could offer to go that planet and-"

"Focus on the mission you're about to embark upon, Space Monkey!"

Looking up, he saw Jack smirk behind the window in the control room. "I am focused," he replied affronted.

"Ready, SG-1?" Jack asked through the PA, looking down on the gate room and his favorite team – family, really.

"Yes Sir!" Came Carter's reply, with a small grin.

He signaled Walter, who dialed up the planet. "Just because it looked uninhabited, Daniel, doesn't mean it is," Jack gently reminded them. "Watch your six, SG-1," he added when the wormhole engaged.

"I'd love to watch her six all day."

Pivoting on his heel, Jack glared at the airman who'd made the comment. "Another one of those comments and I'll have your six thrown in the brig, Airman!" He barked, feeling enraged the little punk had spoken like that about his Carter.

"Yes Sir! I apologize, Sir! I didn't mean to sound disrespectful-"

"Really?" he growled. "Then how exactly did you mean it to sound?" Seeing the little punk had no reply to that, Jack narrowed his eyes at him and stepped closer. "Colonel Carter has done more for this country – this planet – than you can imagine, Airman! Like all the other people working here, she should be treated with respect!"

"Yes Sir!"

Walter cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sir? Doctor Fraiser is on the phone for you, Sir."

Shaking his head, Jack tried to clear it. He hadn't even heard the phone ring. "Get out of my sight," he barked at the disrespectful airman, before turning back to Walter. "Give me that punk's name so I can have him transferred. I'll be in my office," he added, turning to the spiral staircase. Taking the steps two at once, he reached the briefing room quickly and strode into his office. Plopping down in his chair, Jack leaned over his desk and grabbed the phone to hear what the Doc had to say.