"I wish I had a dollar for every time someone's said that," Shawn said,
smiling at Jack.
Jack nodded; he had only found out today, and already was hearing it a lot.
"So, how do you feel, really?" Fraiser asked, studying him critically. He looked fairly pale, and he seemed to moving stiffly, but he was very alert, and joking, so he was obviously not feeling any mental affects of his injuries. It helped that he hadn't had any head injuries.
"I'm a bit sore, and I feel stiff." He looked down at himself, bandages and a sheet. "And I could use some clothes and something to eat."
"That's good to hear." Fraiser took his pulse and checked his blood pressure, which was low. Of course, it'd go up a bit if he ate something, so that was a priority. "Think you're good to get out of bed?" She asked him. "If you're not, I can have something to eat brought to you. If you are, I'll allow you to go to the commissary."
"If I can get some pants, I'll go to the commissary."
"Colonel? He looks about your size. Do you have any spare uniforms here? Or should I go to supply?"
"I have some," Jack said, wondering how Shawn was able to get out of bed so soon when he was certain if it were him, she'd have strapped him to the bed and spoon fed him for at least another week. "I'll be right back."
O'Neill gestured for Jaffer to stay where he was, and then left the infirmary and went to the locker room, where he kept his extra uniforms. He always kept at least one, and usually two, and Jack pulled down a shirt and BDUs, but he only had dress shoes besides the boots he was already wearing, and he didn't want Shawn to have to go around in slippers or something. He stopped at the supply room, and grabbed a pair of new boots – guessing that Shawn was close to his size – a couple pairs of socks and a pack of underwear. No sense going commando if he didn't have to, and Jack knew from experience that BDUs could give a guy quite a rash under the right circumstances.
He walked past the two Marines guarding the door – different Marines, since the watch had changed – and smiled. Jaffer had jumped up onto the bed, pretty much taking up everything that Shawn wasn't, and it was apparent that Fraiser hadn't told him to jump up there. She was trying to pull him down by his collar, but the black lab had himself dug in well, and wasn't going to be moved.
"Damn it, Colonel," Fraiser complained. Shawn had his hand under Jaffer's black butt, and was pulling, but the young man was still weak, and the dog was a lot of stubborn when he wanted to be. Which was pretty much all the time.
"Jaffer, get down before the Doctor decides to neuter you." Jack said, tossing the clothing on the bed and gesturing for the dog to move. Jaffer moved, but only reluctantly, and the look he gave Jack was reproachful as he jumped back down to the floor easily.
"I guessed at your shoe size," Jack told Shawn, gesturing to the clothes. "But everything else should be close."
"Thanks, um..."
"Jack."
Shawn nodded, grinning, and Jack wondered what the boy called him in the future, but he didn't ask.
They both turned to Fraiser, who was glaring at Jaffer.
"Doc?"
She looked up, then realized that Shawn wanted to get dressed without her in the room. Like she hadn't seen everything anyways when she undressed him, Janet thought to herself, shaking her head.
"I'll wait outside for you two." She told Jack. "Keep Jaffer off my beds." With that final warning, she left the room and closed the door behind her.
"You always were the only one who control him," Shawn said, pulling off the sheet gratefully and looking down at Jaffer. "He'll listen to anyone, but won't do squat without hearing it from you."
Jack smiled and helped Shawn get dressed, watching the young man carefully for any wincing that would be a sign that he was in more pain than he was letting on. He moved slowly, but he didn't seem to be more than a little sore and stiff, just like he'd said.
When he was dressed – with the shirt unbuttoned because they couldn't get it buttoned around all the bandages swathing Shawn's chest and belly – Jack looked at his son critically.
"You're looking a little naked," he said, pulling out the dog tags that Sam had given him and handing them over.
"Where's my other necklace?" Shawn asked as he put the chain over his head and straightened them automatically.
"You'll have to get that from Daniel. He's been trying to figure out where the arrowhead is from since he saw it."
"It's from Ja-"Shawn cut himself off, giving Jack a look that O'Neill couldn't possibly interpret. "A friend of mine gave it to me," He said. "A good friend."
"Then make sure you remember to get it back."
"I will, Jack, thanks."
Shawn walked to the door carefully, looking as stiff as Jack had ever seen anyone look, and shook his head.
"I'm not sure I can make it as far as the commissary without help, Jack."
"Make it as far as the corner, and I'll help you when Fraiser isn't looking."
"Okay."
They walked out the door, and Jack smiled at the way Fraiser came over and gave Shawn another check-up. It was fun to see her annoying someone else for a change.
"Do you hurt?" She asked him.
"No, I'm just stiff, mostly."
Fraiser ran her hands along the inside of his open uniform shirt, looking for all the world like she was hugging him, even though Jack knew better, since she'd done the same thing to him a million times.
"No tenderness?" She asked, watching his reaction carefully.
Shawn shook his head.
"Here?"
"A little."
"How little?"
"Just a little."
"You're not too sore to make it to the commissary?"
"Never too sore to get to dinner."
"Don't worry, Doc." Jack told her. "If he needs you, we'll call."
"Why don't I believe that, Colonel?"
The two of them gave her identical innocent looks, and Fraiser shook her head. Bad enough she had to deal with one, but adding another person who was so similar to Jack was just going to drive her insane if she wasn't careful.
"If he so much as stubs his toe, I want you to call me," she told O'Neill, glaring at him.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"I mean it."
"I know."
"And keep your dog off my beds!"
"Yes, Ma'am."
Mumbling to herself, Janet turned on her heel and went back into the infirmary – probably to change the bed since Jaffer had contaminated it, Jack decided. He motioned for the Marines that had been guarding the door to follow him and Shawn, and then they made their way, slowly, to the commissary.
Jack nodded; he had only found out today, and already was hearing it a lot.
"So, how do you feel, really?" Fraiser asked, studying him critically. He looked fairly pale, and he seemed to moving stiffly, but he was very alert, and joking, so he was obviously not feeling any mental affects of his injuries. It helped that he hadn't had any head injuries.
"I'm a bit sore, and I feel stiff." He looked down at himself, bandages and a sheet. "And I could use some clothes and something to eat."
"That's good to hear." Fraiser took his pulse and checked his blood pressure, which was low. Of course, it'd go up a bit if he ate something, so that was a priority. "Think you're good to get out of bed?" She asked him. "If you're not, I can have something to eat brought to you. If you are, I'll allow you to go to the commissary."
"If I can get some pants, I'll go to the commissary."
"Colonel? He looks about your size. Do you have any spare uniforms here? Or should I go to supply?"
"I have some," Jack said, wondering how Shawn was able to get out of bed so soon when he was certain if it were him, she'd have strapped him to the bed and spoon fed him for at least another week. "I'll be right back."
O'Neill gestured for Jaffer to stay where he was, and then left the infirmary and went to the locker room, where he kept his extra uniforms. He always kept at least one, and usually two, and Jack pulled down a shirt and BDUs, but he only had dress shoes besides the boots he was already wearing, and he didn't want Shawn to have to go around in slippers or something. He stopped at the supply room, and grabbed a pair of new boots – guessing that Shawn was close to his size – a couple pairs of socks and a pack of underwear. No sense going commando if he didn't have to, and Jack knew from experience that BDUs could give a guy quite a rash under the right circumstances.
He walked past the two Marines guarding the door – different Marines, since the watch had changed – and smiled. Jaffer had jumped up onto the bed, pretty much taking up everything that Shawn wasn't, and it was apparent that Fraiser hadn't told him to jump up there. She was trying to pull him down by his collar, but the black lab had himself dug in well, and wasn't going to be moved.
"Damn it, Colonel," Fraiser complained. Shawn had his hand under Jaffer's black butt, and was pulling, but the young man was still weak, and the dog was a lot of stubborn when he wanted to be. Which was pretty much all the time.
"Jaffer, get down before the Doctor decides to neuter you." Jack said, tossing the clothing on the bed and gesturing for the dog to move. Jaffer moved, but only reluctantly, and the look he gave Jack was reproachful as he jumped back down to the floor easily.
"I guessed at your shoe size," Jack told Shawn, gesturing to the clothes. "But everything else should be close."
"Thanks, um..."
"Jack."
Shawn nodded, grinning, and Jack wondered what the boy called him in the future, but he didn't ask.
They both turned to Fraiser, who was glaring at Jaffer.
"Doc?"
She looked up, then realized that Shawn wanted to get dressed without her in the room. Like she hadn't seen everything anyways when she undressed him, Janet thought to herself, shaking her head.
"I'll wait outside for you two." She told Jack. "Keep Jaffer off my beds." With that final warning, she left the room and closed the door behind her.
"You always were the only one who control him," Shawn said, pulling off the sheet gratefully and looking down at Jaffer. "He'll listen to anyone, but won't do squat without hearing it from you."
Jack smiled and helped Shawn get dressed, watching the young man carefully for any wincing that would be a sign that he was in more pain than he was letting on. He moved slowly, but he didn't seem to be more than a little sore and stiff, just like he'd said.
When he was dressed – with the shirt unbuttoned because they couldn't get it buttoned around all the bandages swathing Shawn's chest and belly – Jack looked at his son critically.
"You're looking a little naked," he said, pulling out the dog tags that Sam had given him and handing them over.
"Where's my other necklace?" Shawn asked as he put the chain over his head and straightened them automatically.
"You'll have to get that from Daniel. He's been trying to figure out where the arrowhead is from since he saw it."
"It's from Ja-"Shawn cut himself off, giving Jack a look that O'Neill couldn't possibly interpret. "A friend of mine gave it to me," He said. "A good friend."
"Then make sure you remember to get it back."
"I will, Jack, thanks."
Shawn walked to the door carefully, looking as stiff as Jack had ever seen anyone look, and shook his head.
"I'm not sure I can make it as far as the commissary without help, Jack."
"Make it as far as the corner, and I'll help you when Fraiser isn't looking."
"Okay."
They walked out the door, and Jack smiled at the way Fraiser came over and gave Shawn another check-up. It was fun to see her annoying someone else for a change.
"Do you hurt?" She asked him.
"No, I'm just stiff, mostly."
Fraiser ran her hands along the inside of his open uniform shirt, looking for all the world like she was hugging him, even though Jack knew better, since she'd done the same thing to him a million times.
"No tenderness?" She asked, watching his reaction carefully.
Shawn shook his head.
"Here?"
"A little."
"How little?"
"Just a little."
"You're not too sore to make it to the commissary?"
"Never too sore to get to dinner."
"Don't worry, Doc." Jack told her. "If he needs you, we'll call."
"Why don't I believe that, Colonel?"
The two of them gave her identical innocent looks, and Fraiser shook her head. Bad enough she had to deal with one, but adding another person who was so similar to Jack was just going to drive her insane if she wasn't careful.
"If he so much as stubs his toe, I want you to call me," she told O'Neill, glaring at him.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"I mean it."
"I know."
"And keep your dog off my beds!"
"Yes, Ma'am."
Mumbling to herself, Janet turned on her heel and went back into the infirmary – probably to change the bed since Jaffer had contaminated it, Jack decided. He motioned for the Marines that had been guarding the door to follow him and Shawn, and then they made their way, slowly, to the commissary.