A/N: Wow, I updated, said I would, didn't I? Does anyone care?
Population of the world: *shakes head*
Flameshadow: *pouts* Oh well, This chapter doesn't really go anywhere, and its real short, but, its here! Hopefully I'll update more soon and get to something resembling a plot. Hopefully. And, hopefully I wont have to write anything else even close to J/S fluff *shudders* I hate fluff, but it couldn't not happen, you'd have to blind not to see the sparks flying! Agh!
Janet Frasier leaned over a cup of dark coffee, savoring her break. She'd known this was a busy hospital, that's why she took the job, but this place rivaled the SGC! If she had just stayed in the military, she would have had plenty of free time, and plenty of authority and respect. Ah, but that would have been a waste of her talent.
After the SGC was shut down, she had intended to stay with the military, for she considered that to be where her loyalties lay. She had expected to help tons of injured soldiers with strange ailments, but it was not so. Being involved in the constant struggle against the Goa'uld had made her forget that in America it was technically peacetime! The strangest injuries she had to treat were sunstroke and the occasional diabetic, but usually just pulled muscles or broken bones, which, though painful were no challenge. She couldn't believe it, but she was actually beginning to get bored with her passion!
That was when she had been called by a major hospital. They had heard about her wide variety of experience and expertise. So, she had left the military and come here. She was certainly faced with a wicked onslaught of terrible diseases and injuries, and they were challenge enough to occupy her, but it still wasn't as fulfilling as working with the stargate, nothing really could be, she guessed. It was also a bit frustrating, she found, and it became increasingly difficult not top relate a case to, say, nanocytes, or strike up a casual academic discussion about the science behind hand devices. But, y'know, she was getting used to it, and after many months the whole project began to slip into the dreamlike haze at the back of her mind.
"Frasier, to the ER, stat!" Shouted a tall man with graying blonde hair, wearing a white uniform and a facemask, in an authoritative voice.
But there was always something, like this man who reminded her so much of Colonel O'Neill. Things that great may go down easily from existence, but never from memory.
She sighed 'I didn't finish my coffee. Ah well, I wonder what it is this time'… her thoughts began to list possibilities and treatments as she was broken from her nostalgia, and ran down to see the new patient.