"So where did Cassie go?" Jack asked as he took a drink of his juice, and grimaced.
"A friend of hers invited her on a fishing trip with some members of her church."
"Fishing?"
"Yup."
"Male friends?" Jack asked, instantly alert. He'd have to beat some kid up if-
"No, just girls."
"Ah."
"Don't worry, Colonel. It's well supervised. I made sure before I allowed her to-"
"I'm sure you did."
She took a drink of her beer.
"How come you didn't clear that with me?"
"Clear what? Cassie going fishing?"
"Yeah."
"Why would I?"
"Because..." He trailed off, visibly trying to figure that out. Why would she clear that? Janet smiled and finished her beer, letting him stew on that, which was fun to watch in his current drugged condition.
"She's fine, Colonel."
He nodded, and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes.
"Are you getting tired?" The medication could make him drowsy, but it shouldn't have happened quite so quickly.
"Nah. The room's spinning."
"What?"
"Huh?"
"You're dizzy?"
"No. I'm fine. The room's a little messed up."
She came over and sat next to him, running her hand along his forehead. No fever.
"Follow my finger, Colonel."
He looked at the finger she held up, and tried to focus on it as she moved it around. His head moved a lot more than her finger, and Janet frowned.
"Concentrate."
"I am."
"Try harder, okay?"
"Okay." He visibly tried to concentrate, and when she thought he was ready, she moved her finger again. This time he did a little better.
"That's better. We'll feed you, then you should probably go to bed."
"It's only..." He looked at the clock. "...Five thirty."
"I know."
She stood up and went to get herself another beer.
"So I don't have to go to bed?"
"No. You still should."
"But-"
She shook her head.
"Just do what I tell you, Colonel."
"I'm not tired. It's not my fault the room's spinning."
"Colonel..."
"Doc..."
The possible argument was averted by the doorbell.
"Dinner's here."
"Joy."
Janet smiled. Now he was surly. She, of course, wasn't concerned. Jack O'Neill had no attitude Janet Fraiser couldn't handle. She'd seen him at his worse, and he was far from it tonight. She opened the door, and was still smiling when she took the pizza from the delivery girl, and paid her, then carried the pizza to the coffee table so he didn't have to try getting up and coming to the table.
"What kind did you get?"
"Pepperoni."
She brought plates, and paper towels, and he opened the box.
"I can handle that."
"Good."
As it turned out, he couldn't. She hadn't ordered extra cheese, but whoever had made it, had loaded it up. The pizza also had a lot of sauce, and it was extremely messy and hard to eat neatly even for Janet. Jack was having a fiasco. The first bite he took brought all the cheese and sauce off his slice. Luckily it missed his chin, which would have hurt like hell.
"Agh."
"Colonel? Let me help you..." She reached over to take the slice from him, but he pulled it away.
"I've got it."
"No you don't."
"Yes I do."
All the toppings came off the slice again, and landed in his lap – which could have been disastrous if he'd been wearing less clothing, but was just messy as it was.
"Shit."
Janet laughed.
Jack scowled.
"Want a plate?"
"No."
He was being stubborn, and Janet shook her head, but left him alone. She did reach over and button his shirt, though, tucking the arm in the sling inside his shirt so he wouldn't do to his chest what he almost did to his lap. Jack let her, but he scowled the entire time, feeling she was maybe being just a little over-protective. Which was the way she always was with her patients, and he knew it.
By the time he gave up on eating, Janet was close to tears from suppressed laughter. Jack was a mess. His pants were drenched with sauce and cheese and pepperoni, his shirt was covered with it, and his hand and face were smeared. His mood was foul – not at all helped by her grinning every time he tried to take a bite – and by the fact that he was hungry and she'd decided to pick the hardest thing in the world to eat. Why not give him rice and chopsticks next time?
He dropped the soggy slice of pizza back in the box with a scowl, and watched as she finished the last beer of the six-pack.
"I'm glad you're finding this so amusing."
She snorted. She couldn't help herself.
"I'm sorry, Jack."
"No, you're not."
"No, I'm not."
"You're drunk."
"No, I'm not."
She wasn't, either. Sure, she'd finished the first beer, and had had another – you had to have a beer with pizza – unless you were on medication, of course – but that had only been two beers. Then she'd had the third, and by then she had decided that what the hell? It wasn't going to kill her to get pleasantly buzzed. She'd just call Sam and have her come take her home. By the time she'd finished the six-pack, she was more than pleasantly buzzed, but she wasn't exactly drunk, either. Well... maybe a little.
"You're not driving tonight." He told her. He, of course, was stone-cold sober. Just doped up.
"Sam can come get me."
"Sam's in California."
"She can get me when she comes home."
"Uh huh."
Jack nodded, trying to think about what was wrong with that statement, but for the life of him, he couldn't.
"I wish she was here."
"Anxious to get rid of me?" Fraiser asked him, smiling.
"Nah."
He changed the subject, and looked down at himself, and frowned. The chat had allowed him to forget how messy he was, but he couldn't stand to look like this for too long. Fraiser followed his gaze, and burst into giggles.
Jack scowled.
"You did this on purpose." He accused.
"No, I didn't." She wiped tears from her cheeks, still laughing.
"I'm going to go take a shower."
"You can't."
"Yes I can. It's my house."
"You'll..." He'll what? She focused on that for a moment. Something about... his... arm... "You'll get wet."
Jack shook his head.
"That's the whole idea behind a shower, Janet," Jack told her, using his one free saucy hand to push himself to his feet. "I'll be back." He staggered uncertainly down the hall and into the bathroom.
"A friend of hers invited her on a fishing trip with some members of her church."
"Fishing?"
"Yup."
"Male friends?" Jack asked, instantly alert. He'd have to beat some kid up if-
"No, just girls."
"Ah."
"Don't worry, Colonel. It's well supervised. I made sure before I allowed her to-"
"I'm sure you did."
She took a drink of her beer.
"How come you didn't clear that with me?"
"Clear what? Cassie going fishing?"
"Yeah."
"Why would I?"
"Because..." He trailed off, visibly trying to figure that out. Why would she clear that? Janet smiled and finished her beer, letting him stew on that, which was fun to watch in his current drugged condition.
"She's fine, Colonel."
He nodded, and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes.
"Are you getting tired?" The medication could make him drowsy, but it shouldn't have happened quite so quickly.
"Nah. The room's spinning."
"What?"
"Huh?"
"You're dizzy?"
"No. I'm fine. The room's a little messed up."
She came over and sat next to him, running her hand along his forehead. No fever.
"Follow my finger, Colonel."
He looked at the finger she held up, and tried to focus on it as she moved it around. His head moved a lot more than her finger, and Janet frowned.
"Concentrate."
"I am."
"Try harder, okay?"
"Okay." He visibly tried to concentrate, and when she thought he was ready, she moved her finger again. This time he did a little better.
"That's better. We'll feed you, then you should probably go to bed."
"It's only..." He looked at the clock. "...Five thirty."
"I know."
She stood up and went to get herself another beer.
"So I don't have to go to bed?"
"No. You still should."
"But-"
She shook her head.
"Just do what I tell you, Colonel."
"I'm not tired. It's not my fault the room's spinning."
"Colonel..."
"Doc..."
The possible argument was averted by the doorbell.
"Dinner's here."
"Joy."
Janet smiled. Now he was surly. She, of course, wasn't concerned. Jack O'Neill had no attitude Janet Fraiser couldn't handle. She'd seen him at his worse, and he was far from it tonight. She opened the door, and was still smiling when she took the pizza from the delivery girl, and paid her, then carried the pizza to the coffee table so he didn't have to try getting up and coming to the table.
"What kind did you get?"
"Pepperoni."
She brought plates, and paper towels, and he opened the box.
"I can handle that."
"Good."
As it turned out, he couldn't. She hadn't ordered extra cheese, but whoever had made it, had loaded it up. The pizza also had a lot of sauce, and it was extremely messy and hard to eat neatly even for Janet. Jack was having a fiasco. The first bite he took brought all the cheese and sauce off his slice. Luckily it missed his chin, which would have hurt like hell.
"Agh."
"Colonel? Let me help you..." She reached over to take the slice from him, but he pulled it away.
"I've got it."
"No you don't."
"Yes I do."
All the toppings came off the slice again, and landed in his lap – which could have been disastrous if he'd been wearing less clothing, but was just messy as it was.
"Shit."
Janet laughed.
Jack scowled.
"Want a plate?"
"No."
He was being stubborn, and Janet shook her head, but left him alone. She did reach over and button his shirt, though, tucking the arm in the sling inside his shirt so he wouldn't do to his chest what he almost did to his lap. Jack let her, but he scowled the entire time, feeling she was maybe being just a little over-protective. Which was the way she always was with her patients, and he knew it.
By the time he gave up on eating, Janet was close to tears from suppressed laughter. Jack was a mess. His pants were drenched with sauce and cheese and pepperoni, his shirt was covered with it, and his hand and face were smeared. His mood was foul – not at all helped by her grinning every time he tried to take a bite – and by the fact that he was hungry and she'd decided to pick the hardest thing in the world to eat. Why not give him rice and chopsticks next time?
He dropped the soggy slice of pizza back in the box with a scowl, and watched as she finished the last beer of the six-pack.
"I'm glad you're finding this so amusing."
She snorted. She couldn't help herself.
"I'm sorry, Jack."
"No, you're not."
"No, I'm not."
"You're drunk."
"No, I'm not."
She wasn't, either. Sure, she'd finished the first beer, and had had another – you had to have a beer with pizza – unless you were on medication, of course – but that had only been two beers. Then she'd had the third, and by then she had decided that what the hell? It wasn't going to kill her to get pleasantly buzzed. She'd just call Sam and have her come take her home. By the time she'd finished the six-pack, she was more than pleasantly buzzed, but she wasn't exactly drunk, either. Well... maybe a little.
"You're not driving tonight." He told her. He, of course, was stone-cold sober. Just doped up.
"Sam can come get me."
"Sam's in California."
"She can get me when she comes home."
"Uh huh."
Jack nodded, trying to think about what was wrong with that statement, but for the life of him, he couldn't.
"I wish she was here."
"Anxious to get rid of me?" Fraiser asked him, smiling.
"Nah."
He changed the subject, and looked down at himself, and frowned. The chat had allowed him to forget how messy he was, but he couldn't stand to look like this for too long. Fraiser followed his gaze, and burst into giggles.
Jack scowled.
"You did this on purpose." He accused.
"No, I didn't." She wiped tears from her cheeks, still laughing.
"I'm going to go take a shower."
"You can't."
"Yes I can. It's my house."
"You'll..." He'll what? She focused on that for a moment. Something about... his... arm... "You'll get wet."
Jack shook his head.
"That's the whole idea behind a shower, Janet," Jack told her, using his one free saucy hand to push himself to his feet. "I'll be back." He staggered uncertainly down the hall and into the bathroom.