The whole galaxy seemed to be rocking and spinning, and Daniel's head rocked and his stomach spun in agreement. He wasn't quite sure where he was but was unable, and unwilling, to try opening his eyes to find out. They felt all dried out and gummed together and he wondered if he had forgotten to take his contacts out again. No wait, that mission was over, so his glasses were around here somewhere.
The galaxy lurched again and Daniel had no choice but to roll over.
Leaning over the edge of whatever he was lying on, he tried desperately to be completely and violently sick. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to be sick and his insides were actually going to stay inside, Daniel collapsed onto his back. He waited there patiently for death, which he was sure was coming.
Several long moments came and went before he realized with bitter regret that he was still alive. A deep groan of frustration escaped him, causing his aching head to throb. He risked opening his eyes; and instantly shut them. Blinding white light stabbed his eyes like arrows and sent pain bouncing around the inside of his head.
At that point he realized he needed to use the bathroom. Learning from experience he opened his eyes just a crack.
He was in one of Jack's spare bedrooms; the one with the double bed. The pillow beside his was rumpled and the sheets were thrown back, which meant Jillian had been there at some point. She wasn't any more. He found his glasses on the nightstand, put them on and wondered why they didn't help things come into more focus. He got up, stood swaying for a moment and then made it as far as the hall and the bathroom without listing too badly, throwing up or tripping over his own feet. Wisely, he left the bathroom light off. He finished, washed his hands and then stuck his head under the shower and turned the cold water on full blast. The shock hit him hard and he clawed at the dial to turn it off. Leaning on the wall he tried to convince his cold-tightened chest muscles to let go of his lungs so he could breathe.
Then he toweled his hair and face and neck and dropped the towel on the floor.
Going back out into the hall he became aware of the smell of coffee. His stomach didn't react too adversely to the idea. He checked to see what he was wearing – nylon gym shorts and a t-shirt with a bold graphic of a mug of beer. The shorts he thought might be his, but the military issue ones all looked alike. The shirt was clearly Jack's.
Okay, but he was decent enough for the kitchen.
The smell of coffee pulled him inexorably. He got to the kitchen, hauled a chair away from the table and collapsed into it, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples and resting his elbows on the table.
"Good morning, sunshine," Jillian whispered.
She might have been whispering. To Daniel it sounded like someone had banged a gong inside his head. He winced.
"Have mercy, Jill," he begged. "Please don't yell."
"I'm not yelling. Do you want some coffee?" she asked.
Daniel whimpered. "I want you to kill me."
Had she just dared to laugh? He looked up. She was leaning against the counter with her arms folded across her waist, smiling at him.
"Um, Jill," he began hesitantly.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Last night, did we… I mean, did you and I….." he trailed off uncertainly.
"You don't remember?"
Daniel shook his head and realized his error too late. Even when his head stopped moving the room continued sliding back and forth and it felt like what was left of his brain sloshed around in his skull with it.
Jillian slunk towards him and draped herself across the table, resting her chin in her hand and giving him a sultry look. Daniel's mouth went drier than the Sahara.
"You really don't remember?"
"Oh my god, I'm in so much trouble, aren't I?" Daniel asked. His heart was hammering in chest now.
She looked down at the table briefly and when she looked back up her green eyes were dancing like fireflies and her mouth was curled in a grin.
"You passed out on the couch," she said, "Teal'c carried you to the spare room, put you in what you're wearing and I joined you there a little bit later."
"Oh, thank god," Daniel muttered.
"Do you really think I'd give you a night you couldn't remember? Even in a drunken stupor?"
His pounding head simply didn't want to deal with deciphering what she had just said.
"Am I in trouble for having to ask?" he asked, carefully. He was totally prepared to grovel if he had to.
"No," she leaned in a little further and offered in a chaste and gentle kiss. "It's actually kind of adorable."
Daniel was extraordinarily pleased that she thought he was adorable. He watched her slide off the table. Even hung over he couldn't help but appreciate the tight jeans and beige camisole.
He folded his arms on the table and rested his aching head on them, closing his eyes again.
He heard heavy footsteps then and the sound of cabinets doors opening and banging shut. He cracked one eye open and saw Jack rummaging around in his own kitchen. There were four people in the room actually – two Jillians and two Jacks. He squeezed his eyes closed again because it seemed safer with people multiplying like that.
"Morning, Daniel," Jack's voice was like P90 fire, loud and insistent and echoing. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"He wants me to kill him," Jillian answered.
"Don't bother," Jack said, with a theatrical sigh, "He wouldn't stay dead."
"I don't want you to kill me anymore," Daniel said. He heard the sound of a ceramic mug being placed on the table in front of him and inhaled the warm scent of coffee rising from it. He sat up, took a sip and glared at Jack as O'Neill slammed a drawer. "But if he makes another sound, shoot him for me."
The coffee was hot and bracing and his stomach didn't seem to mind too much.
"I don't know why you drink, Daniel," Jack said, sitting down in the chair across from him and diving into a bowl of Fruit Loops. "Didn't you tell me once you don't even like beer?"
"Yeah, and this is why!" Daniel said, and then winced again at the spike that drove itself into his forehead.
He risked opening his eyes again. Jack and Jillian's doppelgangers had disappeared, thankfully. Sam and Teal'c came in from the deck, looking like they had been jogging around the lake. Daniel was mystified. He knew Sam and Jillian had been drinking last night too. So why weren't they inches from death like he was?
"What's for breakfast?" Sam asked.
"Well, there's a choice of cold pizza and," Jillian paused and sniffed cautiously at the gallon of milk Jack had left on the counter, "Fruit Loops with questionable milk."
"Milk's fine," Jack murmured around a mouthful of cereal.
"Could you chew any louder?" Daniel asked. He threw Jack a look that suggested O'Neill was something stuck to the bottom of his shoe.
"Is there any place that delivers something that looks like breakfast?" Sam asked.
"At 7:30 in the morning?" Jillian asked.
"Oh my god can we please stop talking about food," Daniel whimpered. He took his glasses off and jammed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
The phone rang. Daniel was absolutely certain the sound would kill him. Sam was standing closest to it but Jack stood up quickly. His chair scraped across the floor as he did and Daniel moaned like the damned.
"I'll get it, Carter," Jack said quickly.
Sam stepped out of the way. No point in picking it up and having everyone in the SGC wonder why she was at O'Neill's house answering his phone at 7:30 am.
"Yeah, hello," Jack boomed into the receiver. "Hi, Mal."
"Jillian, please kill him," Daniel begged.
Jillian and Sam exchanged amused glances.
"He doesn't mean it," Jillian whispered.
"I think he does," Sam whispered back. She held her thumb and forefinger a tiny bit apart. "Just a little."
"Would you like me to kill him for you, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asked.
"Teal'c, please don't yell."
"I am not yelling," Teal'c responded.
"Okay, yeah," Jack said to the person on the other end of the phone, "We just need to pour Daniel into a passenger seat and we'll be there…..Yeah, there may have been alcohol involved…. Jillian's with us… Give us two hours."
Without further conversation, Jack hung up. He turned to find four sets of eyes trained on him.
"The clearance for the Navy divers came through, "he told them. "SG8 is getting ready to take them to 901. They want Daniel and Jillian and the rest of us are invited along."
The intelligence Daniel had returned with concerning Anubis had renewed the interest in P3X-901 – the drowned and ruined site of his former glory.
Daniel looked over at Jillian with apology in his bleary eyes.
"It's not exactly the beach you wanted to show me when I got back," he said.
Jillian shrugged.
"On the other hand, I finally got the funding for 901 that I wanted in the first place."
Jack clapped his hands together and Daniel winced in agony.
"Okay, kids. Clean up and we can stop at Denny's for breakfast on the way to work."
"Can we please stop talking about food?" Daniel pleaded.
There was a flurry of immediate activity as the SGC trained personnel scrambled to obey. Even Daniel gulped the rest of his coffee and stood. He had to rest his hands on the table for a moment to make the room stop swaying. But eventually it did; and when it did he was alone in the kitchen with Jillian standing next to him. Somehow she had refilled his coffee mug and was holding it out to him.
"Think you could drink this in a hot shower?" she asked.
"Will you come in and help me?" he asked, hopefully.
A slow, saucy smile teased at her lips. She slipped an arm around his waist and he slung one arm around her shoulders to help keep upright.
"I think that can be arranged," she said.
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