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A Man And His Plushie: A Comedy of Errors 3/4
by Meredith Bronwen Mallory
mallorys-girl@cinci.rr.com
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PART THE THIRD: "In Which Jack Dances"
"Jack," Daniel stated dryly, standing in the doorway of the isolation chamber. The Colonel was having a Steve Martin 80's moment, shouting the lyrics to "King Tut" at the top of his lungs and making a rather drunken attempt to 'walk like an Egyptian'.
"Hey, Danny!" Jack said brightly, "Just the stud muffin I wanted to see!"
"We told you," murmured one of the four nurses clustered fearfully behind Daniel.
"Stud muffin?" the younger man mouthed, scores of new tally marks dancing in his head.
"King Tut!" Jack sang loudly in a key all his own, "How'd you get so funky? Funky Tut! Disco Tut! Dancing by the nile..." Briefly, the air force officer lapsed into keeping the beat of the song, before proceeding to sing-- in a truly blood-chilling falsetto-- "The ladies loved his style!"
"Um, Jack?" the linguist approached the dancing man with the utmost care, "How would you like to go home right about now?"
"Wonderful idea! Abso-frigg'n-lutely brilliant!" Jack praised lavishly, pressing what might have been-- but couldn't possibly be-- a kiss against Daniel's temple. "No wonder they say you're a genius!"
"Yes, yes," the other man replied, utterly flustered, "I'm sure that's it, Jack." Sighing, he turned to the nurses, "And this stuff will just wear off?"
"Yes," the redhead handed over the patient's chart, "Dr. Fraiser didn't want to give him anything because she didn't know how it would react with what is already in his system."
"I see, I..."
"Hey!" Jack, who up to this point had been gazing dotingly upon his friend, turned and seemed to register the nurses' presence for the first time. "Hey, hey! You girls get away from Daniel. We've had enough problems for one day!" Stepping in front of the archaeologist, he picked up a clean syringe with surprising skill and wielded it like a sword. "Back! Back, I say! You can't have him!"
"Jack," Daniel grabbed the older man's wrist, "Come on..."
"More's the pity," Nurse Greenwood lamented, eyes widening when almost visible steam seemed to emit from the enraged Colonel's ears.
"She didn't mean it!" Thuyen assured, trying to help Daniel wrestle the weapon away, "She's young and silly. Don't listen to her. I certainly don't."
"Thanks," Greenwood deadpanned.
"You just all stay back," the Colonel ordered, setting down the syringe and ushering Daniel carefully out of the room, "and things will be fine. For crying out loud!" he began to mutter what Daniel heard to be-- or at least _thought_ he heard to be, "I was here first!"
The linguist blinked, "And he can go home like this?"
"Well, he can't stay _here_ like this!" Batterman called, watching them disappear around the corner.
"Well," Greenwood cleared her throat. "That was interesting."
"Huh," said Jones, rolling her eyes. Thuyen just picked up the chart that had fallen in the scuffle, dusting it off.
"I guess," she said, flipping through it briefly, "I'll take this to Dr. Fraiser and let her know the Colonel has officially left the building."
"No _now!_" Batterman hissed, "She's in her office with Major Carter, discussing things."
Thuyen looked annoyed, "It'll only take a second."
"No, no," Jones intervened, "they're _discussing_."
"Oh," Thuyen considered, smoothing her uniform, "well, then."
"Oh, Dannyboy, the pipes, the pipes are _calling_..." the Colonel smiled when he hit a previously undiscovered note in the human vocal range. Wincing, Daniel pressed a single finger to his lips, surprised when Jack actually silenced.
"Jack, could you not sing?" he whispered, feeling all at once patently ridiculous and rather like a victim of the twilight zone.
"Sure, sure," the older man whispered back, touching a finger to Daniel's nose, "If you want me to." His arm, previously slung over Daniel's shoulder's, moved down to snugly encircle his waist. Disturbed, Daniel took off his glasses, cleaned them on the edge of his BDU's and, upon replacing them, looked down at the strong hand still resting on his hip.
"Tell me this is a dream," he said suddenly, finding his face far too close to Jack's to qualify for reality.
"It's a dream!" Jack replied, highly amused by this prospect. Energetically, he dragged Daniel down the hall to the elevator, paying no heed to the three young recruits scrubbing nearby.
"Help. Me." Daniel gulped as the doors began to close.
A young recruit with short-chopped black hair and a shark-like smile caught his eye, saying-- "Sorry, Doctor. He outranks us."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Home at last," Daniel said, banging his head slightly against the steering wheel of his car.
"Yup," Jack cheered, unbuckling his seat belt and scrambling for the front door like a kid let out to recess.
"It's a really good thing that _everything_ in that damn mountain is classified," the linguist murmured, pocketing his keys and feeling rather grateful for the company of two SFs they'd shared an elevator with. Jack's repeated requests to see Daniel's appendix scare were, quite honestly, beginning to worry the younger man.
"Alright!" the Colonel pulled Daniel into the house, rubbing his hands together eagerly, "What, oh, what should we do first?" He eyed his friend with a frankly dangerous, hungry gleam.
Shivering slightly, warmth coiling in his back, Daniel held up a finger, "Jack. Think about this. It's not a dream."
"It's not?" the forty-five year old soldier looked chest-fallen, "Damn. That's no fair!"
"Granted," the younger man murmured, mostly to himself.
"So I'm going to really regret this in the morning, right?"
"Precisely."
"Damn," Jack whined again, gazing on Daniel with longing that just _couldn't_ _be_ _there_, "I never catch any breaks."
"At least the universe isn't conspiring to drive you as crazy as the archaeological community thinks you are."
"True," the older man considered, "and I don't have a galaxy wide club of groupies looking to lay me at every turn." Jack looked very insulted, eyeing the corners as if the offending females might materialize from the shadows. "I'm not putting up with it anymore! Those girls are gonna have 'ta answer to me!"
"That's a truly frightening thought," Daniel squeaked, trying to usher Jack towards the bedroom without actually giving into temptation and touching the older man. "So, why don't you go to bed now? There will be less for you to be embarrassed about in the morning."
"Ah!" Jack seized on the idea, bounding off down the hall.
"And it will be much easier for me to keep my hands to myself," the linguist muttered, eyeing the offending body parts suspiciously. "I think."
Thankfully, Jack had broken the sound barrier with the speed by which he changed into an old t-shirt and boxers. Thusly, Daniel found himself standing in the doorway, watching his friend root around madly in the bed.
"Where is it?" the Colonel worried, "Where? Where!?" He pounded the bed, oblivious to his audience, "Come here, baby. Come to the nice Colonel. The Colonel loves you, yes he does. I have coffee.."
Daniel blinked and considered cleaning his glasses again.
"Ah hah!" Triumphantly, Jack waved his prize in the air, the object a mere shadow in the fading sunlight. Happily, he clutched it to his chest and proceeded to flop down into unconsciousness.
Smiling wanly, Daniel closed the door behind him, "Night, Jack." Then he made an invisible tally in the cooling evening air.
On the cusp of sleep, Jack stroked the little Daniel-plushie's hair, chuckling to himself. "Submitted for your approval. The innocent archaeologist, on a journey of sight, sound, and absolutely besotted Colonel. He has passed into another dimension... he has entered... the O'Neill Zone!"
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NEXT TIME:
Jack's Dark Secret is revealed at last! Just how will Daniel react? Will the Colonel loose more than his (already questionable) sanity? Or will he gain something even better than front row season tickets to Avalanche games _and_ a twenty four hour excuse to torture Senator Kinsey?
TUNE IN NEXT TIME....
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