Title: It Was What They Did…
Author: Dragonfly
Spoilers: Yes. The Fourth Horseman: Part One
Genre: Gen, missing scene
Series: Yes, "Denial: 101"
Summary: Oh those nasty Ori and their plague…
A/N: Sorry it's been so long. I actually do have a couple others completed, but I want to post in order on here. Others can be found on my site. Thanks!
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Thump
"96"
Anticipation and excitement exploded within Jack.
Thump
"97"
He would be breaking his all time record.
Thump
"98"
He's never made it to 100 before.
Thump
"99"
"Sir?" Lance Corporal Edmund Johnson stormed through the door and caught Jack's ball inches before it bounced off his face.
Jack frowned. So much for a new world record. "I thought I told you I was in a very important meeting and NOT to disturb me." Jack reprimanded, though he was marginally impressed with his assistant's ever improving reflexes. …of course he wouldn't survive walking into Jack's office without them.
Yup, everything Jack did was to better the next generation. Even boredom induced…exercises.
"Uh…you did, sir," Edmund admitted, awkwardly tossing back the ball--which Jack caught with a smile. He was definitely breaking the kid in. "But I have your itinerary."
"Aaahh." Jack tilted his head back. Busted
"And you're needed ASAP in an emergency meeting with the Joint Chiefs, sir."
"Ah." This time Jack responded with less enthusiasm and stood. "Emergency, eh?" he queried without an inkling of real interest, leisurely looking for his hat under piles of paperwork.
Johnson handed it to him. "Yes, sir."
"Well," Jack put it on. "Can't keep the JC's waiting, now can we?"
"No, sir."
Jack took the briefcase his assistant handed him. "After all, that's what I'm paid the big bucks for."
"Yes, sir" Johnson held the door open for him.
"Yessirreee, attending every so called 'emergency' meeting they have just so I can show my pretty little face"
"Yes, sir" Edmund responded automatically just as Jack walked passed him.
Brigadier General Jack O'Neill paused in the doorway.
The younger man floundered. "I- I mean no, sir!"
Jack slowly, with an ominous look in his eyes, held out his hand. After a second Edmund reluctantly brought up his own.
"Keep it secret. Keep it safe." The older man whispered conspiratorially, dropping his ball into the sweating corporal's palm and walking away without another word.
Jaw slack, Johnson stared after him. His boss was a "Lord of the Rings" fan too. Edmund shook his head in awe. Wait until he told his girlfriend this one. She still didn't believe him when he told her how often the old veteran quoted "The Simpsons" and "The Wizard of Oz."
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He couldn't breathe. Jack couldn't breath, but he had to know. So he forced the acrid words out through his dry mouth. "Do," he had to clear his throat and try again. "Do we know the names of those who have been infected?" He hoped his voice came out smooth and detached…but at the same time, he didn't give a damn if it did or didn't. This was his family. This was his life he was asking about.
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After countless hours and a blur of endless meetings, Jack walked into his office, closed the door behind him, threw his briefcase and hat on the floor, sat down in his chair and hid his face in his hands.
"Jesus," he exhaled, then quickly made a grab for the phone—only to freeze when Edmund's voice came over the comm informing him that he already had Doctor Jackson waiting on the line for him.
Jack could kiss the man. He hit the button instead. "Daniel?"
"Hi! Yeah, Jack! I really can't talk." He greeted distractedly.
God it sounded so good just to hear his friend's voice. The last he had heard, none of his kids had been infected…yet, but this was the first he had had the chance to get living, breathing proof. And he didn't want to let go of it just yet. "Yeah, so, uh, hey…what's up?" He found himself asking, trying and failing to sound nonchalant as he stiffly sat back in his chair.
There was a pause. Then, "Well, actually I just ordered this new Archaeological magazine online. I'm kinda excited about it."
The smile never reached Jack's eyes. "You're not planning on doing anything stupid, are you, Daniel?
"Well, if I'm not completely satisfied they'll give me my money back, Jack" Daniel responded sagely.
"Anything that can get yourself killed or de-corporealized?" The older man reiterated gratingly.
"No."
Was it Jack, or did that actually sound like he regretted the fact? "Daniel!" he chided with what could technically be considered a squeak…if he wasn't a General in the United States Air Force. Because generals didn't squeak. They shot things that squeaked. Or…whatever.
"No, as in 'wehaveabsolutelynogoodplanwhatsoeverandwereallgoingtodie-No" The archaeologist replied tersely.
Jack frowned. "Oh" A pause. "Have you tried water?"
"Jack?"
"Water" Jack said again as if that explained it all. "It worked on that movie."
Daniel sighed and Jack could practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. "I have to go."
"Or, or, or how 'bout uploading a virus into their Mother Ships!"
"Bye, Jack"
"Do they have Mother Ships?"
"I'm hanging up now"
"Or, hey! You can give them a cold! Sneeze on 'em, Daniel!"
click
The sudden silence reverberated through Jack like thunder. Wit instantly rushing out of him, he slowly lowered the phone and placed it back on the hook.
They would beat this.
Raking his fingers roughly through his hair, the formal SG-1 leader leaned over and laid his head in his hands.
They had to.
It was what they did.
Jack sighed.
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The end…for now. (Sorry so short)
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