Day Seven: Daniel (Layton)
I look at my reflection in disbelief. One eye is purple, the other a deepening black. Jack and his idea of rest. Writing in my journal is much too strenuous, but playing volley ball and having Jack fire it right at my head is apparently acceptable as a form of relaxation.
Jack had apologized almost non-stop since it had happened, even at some points during the night when he had been asleep. But I wasn't angry at Jack, because I did know that his intentions were good and really hadn't needed to hear the apologies. I really hadn't needed to hear Sam going on and on about how slight the chances of two black eyes from separate events were, either.
I had always been good at breaking the odds. This was nothing new.
I place a hand to my head as the headache returns. I don't know if it's because of the two black eyes--or something else. I think Sam is concerned about the light, but I'm the only one being affected. And even though I had been with the light longer than them, Loran has been here with it longer than any of us and he was fine.
Jack was hovering just behind me. Watching my every move. I sighed. He was terrified. A fifteen minute lecture from Janet about making sure I came to no more harm, and now I had another black eye. He hasn't let me out of his sight since the volley ball connected and sent me sprawling backwards onto the floor. Poor bastard. Too little too late, I'm afraid, Jack.
Janet was going to eat him alive. And I'd be desert.
I'd consider hiding--but Jack was in psycho mother hen mode. So my chances of slipping away were slim, at best. And the SGC would be checking in, in another five minutes. Sam, Teal'c, and Loran were on the other side of the room, tiptoeing around Jack. Well, Sam and Loran were tiptoeing. Teal'c was just keeping a fair distance.
Actually--they were probably keeping their distance from me and not Jack. I frowned as I thought this over. I know I haven't been in the best moods this morning. I woke up--had coffee like always, but I'm not feeling myself. And the raccoon eyes aren't helping.
I may have snapped at them once or twice. But I was sure I apologized. "Just take one more step, O'Neill," I growled.
Jack backed up quickly, eyeing me warily. I know, I said I don't blame him. I don't. But that doesn't mean I trust him. I'm out of eyes, and I really like my nose just the way it is.
Jack was on a major guilt trip--and hadn't even tried to blame me for it this time. Which, in all fairness, he probably could have. A little. Maybe. I wasn't exactly paying full attention to the game. But I hadn't wanted to play in the first place--and the glyphs on the wall beside the net were just so fascinating…
Probably not my smartest move. But thinking I might be good at volley ball wasn't the smartest of Jack's.
The 'gate begins to turn--and as one we turn to stare at the M.A.L.P. with dread.
"Sir?" Sam says.
"I'll talk," he tells her, before heroically moving in front of the camera. Jack was a brave man.
The General's voice comes through first. "Colonel O'Neill, how are you holding up?"
He looks fleetingly at me. "We're good, sir."
"I've asked Major Ferretti to put a care package together for each of you---"
"FERRETTI?" Jack and I demand at once.
"He seemed the best choice, Colonel. He knows all of you very well."
Yeah, sure. But we knew him too. He'd probably send back paper dolls and coloring books.
"Yes sir," Jack finally says reluctantly.
"Colonel, Dr. Fraiser is here--she would like to check on Dr. Jackson's eye."
We all tensed. Run, my brain yells at my feet. Run, you idiots.
"Colonel?" Janet's sweet little harmless munchkin voice comes flawlessly through the speakers on the M.A.L.P. "I would like to see Dr. Jackson. Immediately."
The 'run' message becomes more frantic but Jack has already snagged my arm. I just let one side of my face show, the side with the black eye she's already seen. She'll never suspect I'm trying to hide another black eye, will she?
I hear her sigh. "Daniel, what are you doing?"
"I'm fine," I say quickly, not sounding at all rehearsed. "Really, Jack's been making me rest and even hid my journal."
Jack throws me a grateful look, so I didn't finish the sentence with 'in favor of playing volley ball.'
"Daniel, I want you to look into the camera."
"I am looking into the camera, Janet."
Jack shakes his head frantically, in a 'don't play with fire' kind of way.
"All the way," Janet calls back, her voice distinctly less munchkin-like.
I sigh and turn around to face the camera. Even Loran, as far from Janet's voice as he could get on the other side of the room heard her gasp.
"Colonel O'Neill!" she shouts.
"It wasn't Jack's fault," I blurt. Damn. Why did I do that? This was absolutely Jack's fault. "I . . . I . . . walked into a door."
I can imagine her look of incredulity.
"A door, Daniel?" Beside me, Jack shivers at the sound of her voice.
"You know me," I said. Closing my eyes in regret of what I was about to say, I continued, "I'm a klutz." This was a complete and total lie, of course--but necessary.
Jack holds back a surprised laugh--which is good. Because had he laughed I might have just left him to Janet's mercies.
"Daniel, I can't believe . . ." she trails off. Probably realizing she can believe it. She sighs. "Just be more careful, alright?" she asks softly. "I can't come out there if something happens to one of you. You're on your own."
"I'll be careful," I agree.
"And please don't over work yourself. Colonel, I expect you to watch him better this time."
"Yes, ma'am," Jack says instantly.
"Alright SG-1," the General says. "We'll check in again tomorrow."
"Yes, sir," Jack nods.
F.R.E.D. comes slowly through the wormhole, and the moment it's through the event horizon dissipates. We look at in dismay for a moment, wondering what horrors Ferretti might have sent through for us, before Jack turns to me.
"Way to take one for the team, Daniel," Jack grins.
He means take one for him.
I glare at him. "If you think I did that out of some bizarre selfless need, Jack--you've got another thing coming. You owe me now. Go get me my journal from out from your pack--which was an ingenious hiding place, really--and just try to ask me to join you in another sports game 'for my own good.'"
He looks slightly startled. Behind us the other three have all gone silent.
"Alright," he says. "I'll get your journal but you still have to res--" he cuts off as I give him a look. The one I learned from Sam.
And she learned from Teal'c.
Jack goes off to get my journal and I walk over to F.R.E.D. There's five packs. Ferretti's care packages. Each is neatly labeled, Jackson, O'Neill, Carter, Teal'c and Loran. Sam wanders cautiously over.
"Are you alright?" she asks.
I toss her the pack labeled Carter. "I'm fine. Great. Excellent. Dancing in the rain FANTASTIC."
She snaps up Teal'c and Loran's packs and races off without comment.
I close my eyes and sigh. I think I'm losing it.
Jack comes up behind me, and holds out my journal. I take it from him, and sling my pack over my shoulder before heading back down the dais steps. He picks up his and follows me. My bag is actually pretty heavy, not too heavy to hold, but heavy enough to have me worrying about what Ferretti might have put in there.
I drop to the ground and start to unzip the pack. Jack is still standing, Just a few feet away. Just watching me. It's unnerving. I try to ignore him and finish opening the pack.
Jack's composure shatters as he sees the first item in the bag. He starts laughing. I was going to have to kill Ferretti, and possibly Jack.
I pulled it out. It was a blue helmet. A sticky note was attached to the side. It read 'For your protection and theirs,' in Ferretti's distinctive handwriting. I threw the helmet somewhere to the right and Jack gave me a surprised glance. I continued to ignore him and looked to see what else Ferretti had decided to torture me with.
There was a water filled pink eye mask, with instructions to freeze it and wear during the night. According to Ferretti's note this would help with my black eye, which was now actually black eyes. I threw it over with the helmet.
I found another one of my journals in the pack as well, which helped in increasing Ferretti's life expectancy once I was back on base, and a magnetic travel chess board. He'd drawn breasts on both the Queen pieces, and I was afraid to look at the Kings, but it was the thought that counts.
I took out the journal Ferretti had sent and glanced over at Jack. "What did you get?" I ask.
He looked down at his pack. I got the feeling he didn't want to know.
I hear a shout of "I'll kill him!" and look over at Sam. Teal'c is trying to calm her down, Loran looks like he's deciding whether or not he should run. There's a ball of pink yarn and knitting needles beside her feet. I wince. Ferretti had better be off-world on the day we come back, and if he knows what's good for him, he'd better stay there. I was guessing Sam had plans for those needles that had nothing to do with knitting.
Jack finally opens up his bag, I try to look inside, but he tilts it away from me. I had caught site of a note and a game boy. I sat back irritated. I got a helmet and he got a game boy? He takes the note out and reads it, becoming alarmingly pale.
"Oh SHIT!" he shouts.
"O'Neill?" Teal'c asks concernedly.
"Jack?" I demand.
He rips the note up quickly, looking stricken. "COFFEE!" he shouts suddenly. "Daniel, I need to make you some coffee."
I look down at the mug sitting beside me. "Jack, I have coffee."
"Humor me," he tells me.
For the last four years, Jack.
He pulls the military standard issue coffee out and rips the package open. I frown. "Jack, I still have a couple bags of my coffee left . . ."
"This is better," he insists, looking panicked.
"Jack--military coffee is horrible."
"You need some. It will be good for you."
Sam and Teal'c have wandered over, Sam forgetting about her homicidal thoughts as she watches Jack confusedly. Loran was hovering beside the door--probably thinking how insane we all were and wondering if he should just take his chances and run far, far, away.
"Jack," I say, getting to my feet. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Fine. I'm fine. But you need coffee. Lots and lots of coffee, as much as you can drink."
I frowned again. Jack was always telling me that I needed to drink less. What was this about?
"Are you sure, sir?" Sam asks. "What if I'm turning the light down too quickly, both you and Daniel are acting strangely," she says gently.
I was acting strange. I wasn't. I was perfectly fine. Jack, however. He looks relieved as the coffee starts brewing, and then he begins to gather up the remain bags of my favorite coffee.
"Jack, what are you doing with those?"
"Have to get rid of them," he says, and then he starts to mumble. Something about 'leaving no evidence.'
"That's my coffee," I snap. "You aren't doing anything with my coffee. If you want to drink that slush the military calls coffee, that's fine by me--but I want my French Mocha Hazelnut Columbian Ground Roasted Special Blend."
He doesn't listen, he takes off through the doors, Loran watching with large eyes as Jack runs for the door. I take off after him. "Hey! Get back here with my coffee! What the hell are you doing? JACK!"
My god, he's lost his mind. He runs out onto the beach, heading for the sea. I can hear Teal'c and Sam's footsteps behind me as we try to catch up to Jack. When I skid to a stop beside him, he's throwing my precious bags of coffee into the water like skipping stones. I grab his arm, but I'm too late to stop the last bag from sailing through the air, and disappearing in the waves.
Sam and Teal'c run up beside us, looking at us like we're nuts. Well, Sam was. Teal'c was just looking at us with that raised eyebrow of his and a kind of 'they're at it again' resignation.
"Jack?" my tone is pure disbelief.
He turns and glares at me. "What are you doing outside? You'll get a chill and Doc will probably stick a huge honkin' needle in my as--"
"A chill?" I interrupt. "A CHILL? Why the hell did you just throw away all of my coffee, Jack?"
"It's not good for you. Too much . . . sugar. You need military coffee." He grabs my arm and starts pulling me back to the palace.
I look at Teal'c and Sam in disbelief. Sugar?
"Have you lost it?" I snap.
"No," he growls. "It was a bad batch. Just let me get some coffee into you and you'll feel all better."
I decided that Jack's idea of humoring him was probably best. I think the light has driven him mad. Sam and Teal'c are following right behind us, whispering to each other in tones to quiet for me to hear.
When we finally made it back to the 'gate room, Loran was on the floor beside my pack, examining the Queen piece with wide eyes. Jack ignored him and headed straight to the coffee machine, quickly pouring a glass and shoving it into my hands.
I look at him strangely for a moment, wondering if perhaps he's drugged it, then take a cautious sip. I can feel the caffeine spreading through me on the first sip, and quickly take another, relishing the sensation. It's something I suddenly realize has been lacking the last few days.
Maybe Jack was right--maybe my coffee had been a bad batch.
"Ohhh . . ." I say, drinking down the rest of the coffee quickly. When did military coffee start tasting this good. Jack looks relieved. "Thank you, Jack," I tell him with a grin. "I don't know why, but this tastes really great."
He grins back.
"What is decaffeinated?" Loran asks.
I freeze. Decaffeinated was the work of the devil.
Wait, why would he . . .
"What?" I ask.
Jack's eyes go wide.
Loran points to the pieces of Jack's note from Ferretti. "Decaffeinated . . .?" he said with a frown. "What is that?"
Jack and I move at the same time, but I'm closer. I grab up the pieces of the note and try to place them back together.
"Daniel, Daniel, don't do that--" Jack was saying. "Just drink your coffee, please, just--"
It wasn't that many pieces, so it was easy to put back together. I looked at the note.
I switched all of the Doc's coffee to decaffeinated like you asked, but since you've given him a black eye don't you think you should cut him some slack?
"You switched my coffee to decaf?" I demanded.
Sam gasps and looks at Jack in disbelief. "DECAF?" I shout.
"Now, just calm down," Jack said. "I did that before any of this happened--it was to get back at you for winning that bet about Carter. Ferretti, he should have known better than to go through with it after everything that happened . . ."
"Decaf?" I demanded again. I must have been really out of it not to notice.
"No wonder he's been so--" Sam begins to say. I turn to glare at her.
"Indeed," Teal'c says, looking un-approvingly at Jack.
"You're a dead man, O'Neill," I growl. Teal'c neatly steps in my way as I make a lunge for him.
"That is not wise, Daniel Jackson," he tells me. "You must not overexert yourself."
"It was just a misunderstanding, Daniel," Jack says. "Here, have some more coffee." He pours another mug, and staying safely behind Teal'c carefully holds it out to me.
I grab it from him and start to drink it. My headache starts to fade. I gave a happy sigh and dropped to the ground beside the helmet to finish it off.
Jack steps cautiously closer. "Just take one more step, O'Neill," I said, repeating my comment from earlier. He freezes in place.
"Maybe I'll just go--play my game boy," he tells me.
"You do that," I nod, savoring another taste of pure caffinated coffee.
Jack wonders over to his pack and takes out his game boy. Sam catches sight of the chess pieces and snatches them away from Loran. Teal'c takes out an 'Enquirer' from his pack and sits down Kel-no-reem style to read.
They're all quiet so I just enjoy my coffee--and decide I'll let Jack live a little longer if he just keeps giving me refills.
"Oh Christ," Jack sighs.
"What's wrong?" Sam asks.
He shakes the game boy irritably. "There's only one game for this."
I'm not sympathetic. The caffeine doesn't work that fast. "So just play it," I tell him.
"It's Barbie: Pet Rescue . . ." he says.
I look at my reflection in disbelief. One eye is purple, the other a deepening black. Jack and his idea of rest. Writing in my journal is much too strenuous, but playing volley ball and having Jack fire it right at my head is apparently acceptable as a form of relaxation.
Jack had apologized almost non-stop since it had happened, even at some points during the night when he had been asleep. But I wasn't angry at Jack, because I did know that his intentions were good and really hadn't needed to hear the apologies. I really hadn't needed to hear Sam going on and on about how slight the chances of two black eyes from separate events were, either.
I had always been good at breaking the odds. This was nothing new.
I place a hand to my head as the headache returns. I don't know if it's because of the two black eyes--or something else. I think Sam is concerned about the light, but I'm the only one being affected. And even though I had been with the light longer than them, Loran has been here with it longer than any of us and he was fine.
Jack was hovering just behind me. Watching my every move. I sighed. He was terrified. A fifteen minute lecture from Janet about making sure I came to no more harm, and now I had another black eye. He hasn't let me out of his sight since the volley ball connected and sent me sprawling backwards onto the floor. Poor bastard. Too little too late, I'm afraid, Jack.
Janet was going to eat him alive. And I'd be desert.
I'd consider hiding--but Jack was in psycho mother hen mode. So my chances of slipping away were slim, at best. And the SGC would be checking in, in another five minutes. Sam, Teal'c, and Loran were on the other side of the room, tiptoeing around Jack. Well, Sam and Loran were tiptoeing. Teal'c was just keeping a fair distance.
Actually--they were probably keeping their distance from me and not Jack. I frowned as I thought this over. I know I haven't been in the best moods this morning. I woke up--had coffee like always, but I'm not feeling myself. And the raccoon eyes aren't helping.
I may have snapped at them once or twice. But I was sure I apologized. "Just take one more step, O'Neill," I growled.
Jack backed up quickly, eyeing me warily. I know, I said I don't blame him. I don't. But that doesn't mean I trust him. I'm out of eyes, and I really like my nose just the way it is.
Jack was on a major guilt trip--and hadn't even tried to blame me for it this time. Which, in all fairness, he probably could have. A little. Maybe. I wasn't exactly paying full attention to the game. But I hadn't wanted to play in the first place--and the glyphs on the wall beside the net were just so fascinating…
Probably not my smartest move. But thinking I might be good at volley ball wasn't the smartest of Jack's.
The 'gate begins to turn--and as one we turn to stare at the M.A.L.P. with dread.
"Sir?" Sam says.
"I'll talk," he tells her, before heroically moving in front of the camera. Jack was a brave man.
The General's voice comes through first. "Colonel O'Neill, how are you holding up?"
He looks fleetingly at me. "We're good, sir."
"I've asked Major Ferretti to put a care package together for each of you---"
"FERRETTI?" Jack and I demand at once.
"He seemed the best choice, Colonel. He knows all of you very well."
Yeah, sure. But we knew him too. He'd probably send back paper dolls and coloring books.
"Yes sir," Jack finally says reluctantly.
"Colonel, Dr. Fraiser is here--she would like to check on Dr. Jackson's eye."
We all tensed. Run, my brain yells at my feet. Run, you idiots.
"Colonel?" Janet's sweet little harmless munchkin voice comes flawlessly through the speakers on the M.A.L.P. "I would like to see Dr. Jackson. Immediately."
The 'run' message becomes more frantic but Jack has already snagged my arm. I just let one side of my face show, the side with the black eye she's already seen. She'll never suspect I'm trying to hide another black eye, will she?
I hear her sigh. "Daniel, what are you doing?"
"I'm fine," I say quickly, not sounding at all rehearsed. "Really, Jack's been making me rest and even hid my journal."
Jack throws me a grateful look, so I didn't finish the sentence with 'in favor of playing volley ball.'
"Daniel, I want you to look into the camera."
"I am looking into the camera, Janet."
Jack shakes his head frantically, in a 'don't play with fire' kind of way.
"All the way," Janet calls back, her voice distinctly less munchkin-like.
I sigh and turn around to face the camera. Even Loran, as far from Janet's voice as he could get on the other side of the room heard her gasp.
"Colonel O'Neill!" she shouts.
"It wasn't Jack's fault," I blurt. Damn. Why did I do that? This was absolutely Jack's fault. "I . . . I . . . walked into a door."
I can imagine her look of incredulity.
"A door, Daniel?" Beside me, Jack shivers at the sound of her voice.
"You know me," I said. Closing my eyes in regret of what I was about to say, I continued, "I'm a klutz." This was a complete and total lie, of course--but necessary.
Jack holds back a surprised laugh--which is good. Because had he laughed I might have just left him to Janet's mercies.
"Daniel, I can't believe . . ." she trails off. Probably realizing she can believe it. She sighs. "Just be more careful, alright?" she asks softly. "I can't come out there if something happens to one of you. You're on your own."
"I'll be careful," I agree.
"And please don't over work yourself. Colonel, I expect you to watch him better this time."
"Yes, ma'am," Jack says instantly.
"Alright SG-1," the General says. "We'll check in again tomorrow."
"Yes, sir," Jack nods.
F.R.E.D. comes slowly through the wormhole, and the moment it's through the event horizon dissipates. We look at in dismay for a moment, wondering what horrors Ferretti might have sent through for us, before Jack turns to me.
"Way to take one for the team, Daniel," Jack grins.
He means take one for him.
I glare at him. "If you think I did that out of some bizarre selfless need, Jack--you've got another thing coming. You owe me now. Go get me my journal from out from your pack--which was an ingenious hiding place, really--and just try to ask me to join you in another sports game 'for my own good.'"
He looks slightly startled. Behind us the other three have all gone silent.
"Alright," he says. "I'll get your journal but you still have to res--" he cuts off as I give him a look. The one I learned from Sam.
And she learned from Teal'c.
Jack goes off to get my journal and I walk over to F.R.E.D. There's five packs. Ferretti's care packages. Each is neatly labeled, Jackson, O'Neill, Carter, Teal'c and Loran. Sam wanders cautiously over.
"Are you alright?" she asks.
I toss her the pack labeled Carter. "I'm fine. Great. Excellent. Dancing in the rain FANTASTIC."
She snaps up Teal'c and Loran's packs and races off without comment.
I close my eyes and sigh. I think I'm losing it.
Jack comes up behind me, and holds out my journal. I take it from him, and sling my pack over my shoulder before heading back down the dais steps. He picks up his and follows me. My bag is actually pretty heavy, not too heavy to hold, but heavy enough to have me worrying about what Ferretti might have put in there.
I drop to the ground and start to unzip the pack. Jack is still standing, Just a few feet away. Just watching me. It's unnerving. I try to ignore him and finish opening the pack.
Jack's composure shatters as he sees the first item in the bag. He starts laughing. I was going to have to kill Ferretti, and possibly Jack.
I pulled it out. It was a blue helmet. A sticky note was attached to the side. It read 'For your protection and theirs,' in Ferretti's distinctive handwriting. I threw the helmet somewhere to the right and Jack gave me a surprised glance. I continued to ignore him and looked to see what else Ferretti had decided to torture me with.
There was a water filled pink eye mask, with instructions to freeze it and wear during the night. According to Ferretti's note this would help with my black eye, which was now actually black eyes. I threw it over with the helmet.
I found another one of my journals in the pack as well, which helped in increasing Ferretti's life expectancy once I was back on base, and a magnetic travel chess board. He'd drawn breasts on both the Queen pieces, and I was afraid to look at the Kings, but it was the thought that counts.
I took out the journal Ferretti had sent and glanced over at Jack. "What did you get?" I ask.
He looked down at his pack. I got the feeling he didn't want to know.
I hear a shout of "I'll kill him!" and look over at Sam. Teal'c is trying to calm her down, Loran looks like he's deciding whether or not he should run. There's a ball of pink yarn and knitting needles beside her feet. I wince. Ferretti had better be off-world on the day we come back, and if he knows what's good for him, he'd better stay there. I was guessing Sam had plans for those needles that had nothing to do with knitting.
Jack finally opens up his bag, I try to look inside, but he tilts it away from me. I had caught site of a note and a game boy. I sat back irritated. I got a helmet and he got a game boy? He takes the note out and reads it, becoming alarmingly pale.
"Oh SHIT!" he shouts.
"O'Neill?" Teal'c asks concernedly.
"Jack?" I demand.
He rips the note up quickly, looking stricken. "COFFEE!" he shouts suddenly. "Daniel, I need to make you some coffee."
I look down at the mug sitting beside me. "Jack, I have coffee."
"Humor me," he tells me.
For the last four years, Jack.
He pulls the military standard issue coffee out and rips the package open. I frown. "Jack, I still have a couple bags of my coffee left . . ."
"This is better," he insists, looking panicked.
"Jack--military coffee is horrible."
"You need some. It will be good for you."
Sam and Teal'c have wandered over, Sam forgetting about her homicidal thoughts as she watches Jack confusedly. Loran was hovering beside the door--probably thinking how insane we all were and wondering if he should just take his chances and run far, far, away.
"Jack," I say, getting to my feet. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Fine. I'm fine. But you need coffee. Lots and lots of coffee, as much as you can drink."
I frowned again. Jack was always telling me that I needed to drink less. What was this about?
"Are you sure, sir?" Sam asks. "What if I'm turning the light down too quickly, both you and Daniel are acting strangely," she says gently.
I was acting strange. I wasn't. I was perfectly fine. Jack, however. He looks relieved as the coffee starts brewing, and then he begins to gather up the remain bags of my favorite coffee.
"Jack, what are you doing with those?"
"Have to get rid of them," he says, and then he starts to mumble. Something about 'leaving no evidence.'
"That's my coffee," I snap. "You aren't doing anything with my coffee. If you want to drink that slush the military calls coffee, that's fine by me--but I want my French Mocha Hazelnut Columbian Ground Roasted Special Blend."
He doesn't listen, he takes off through the doors, Loran watching with large eyes as Jack runs for the door. I take off after him. "Hey! Get back here with my coffee! What the hell are you doing? JACK!"
My god, he's lost his mind. He runs out onto the beach, heading for the sea. I can hear Teal'c and Sam's footsteps behind me as we try to catch up to Jack. When I skid to a stop beside him, he's throwing my precious bags of coffee into the water like skipping stones. I grab his arm, but I'm too late to stop the last bag from sailing through the air, and disappearing in the waves.
Sam and Teal'c run up beside us, looking at us like we're nuts. Well, Sam was. Teal'c was just looking at us with that raised eyebrow of his and a kind of 'they're at it again' resignation.
"Jack?" my tone is pure disbelief.
He turns and glares at me. "What are you doing outside? You'll get a chill and Doc will probably stick a huge honkin' needle in my as--"
"A chill?" I interrupt. "A CHILL? Why the hell did you just throw away all of my coffee, Jack?"
"It's not good for you. Too much . . . sugar. You need military coffee." He grabs my arm and starts pulling me back to the palace.
I look at Teal'c and Sam in disbelief. Sugar?
"Have you lost it?" I snap.
"No," he growls. "It was a bad batch. Just let me get some coffee into you and you'll feel all better."
I decided that Jack's idea of humoring him was probably best. I think the light has driven him mad. Sam and Teal'c are following right behind us, whispering to each other in tones to quiet for me to hear.
When we finally made it back to the 'gate room, Loran was on the floor beside my pack, examining the Queen piece with wide eyes. Jack ignored him and headed straight to the coffee machine, quickly pouring a glass and shoving it into my hands.
I look at him strangely for a moment, wondering if perhaps he's drugged it, then take a cautious sip. I can feel the caffeine spreading through me on the first sip, and quickly take another, relishing the sensation. It's something I suddenly realize has been lacking the last few days.
Maybe Jack was right--maybe my coffee had been a bad batch.
"Ohhh . . ." I say, drinking down the rest of the coffee quickly. When did military coffee start tasting this good. Jack looks relieved. "Thank you, Jack," I tell him with a grin. "I don't know why, but this tastes really great."
He grins back.
"What is decaffeinated?" Loran asks.
I freeze. Decaffeinated was the work of the devil.
Wait, why would he . . .
"What?" I ask.
Jack's eyes go wide.
Loran points to the pieces of Jack's note from Ferretti. "Decaffeinated . . .?" he said with a frown. "What is that?"
Jack and I move at the same time, but I'm closer. I grab up the pieces of the note and try to place them back together.
"Daniel, Daniel, don't do that--" Jack was saying. "Just drink your coffee, please, just--"
It wasn't that many pieces, so it was easy to put back together. I looked at the note.
I switched all of the Doc's coffee to decaffeinated like you asked, but since you've given him a black eye don't you think you should cut him some slack?
"You switched my coffee to decaf?" I demanded.
Sam gasps and looks at Jack in disbelief. "DECAF?" I shout.
"Now, just calm down," Jack said. "I did that before any of this happened--it was to get back at you for winning that bet about Carter. Ferretti, he should have known better than to go through with it after everything that happened . . ."
"Decaf?" I demanded again. I must have been really out of it not to notice.
"No wonder he's been so--" Sam begins to say. I turn to glare at her.
"Indeed," Teal'c says, looking un-approvingly at Jack.
"You're a dead man, O'Neill," I growl. Teal'c neatly steps in my way as I make a lunge for him.
"That is not wise, Daniel Jackson," he tells me. "You must not overexert yourself."
"It was just a misunderstanding, Daniel," Jack says. "Here, have some more coffee." He pours another mug, and staying safely behind Teal'c carefully holds it out to me.
I grab it from him and start to drink it. My headache starts to fade. I gave a happy sigh and dropped to the ground beside the helmet to finish it off.
Jack steps cautiously closer. "Just take one more step, O'Neill," I said, repeating my comment from earlier. He freezes in place.
"Maybe I'll just go--play my game boy," he tells me.
"You do that," I nod, savoring another taste of pure caffinated coffee.
Jack wonders over to his pack and takes out his game boy. Sam catches sight of the chess pieces and snatches them away from Loran. Teal'c takes out an 'Enquirer' from his pack and sits down Kel-no-reem style to read.
They're all quiet so I just enjoy my coffee--and decide I'll let Jack live a little longer if he just keeps giving me refills.
"Oh Christ," Jack sighs.
"What's wrong?" Sam asks.
He shakes the game boy irritably. "There's only one game for this."
I'm not sympathetic. The caffeine doesn't work that fast. "So just play it," I tell him.
"It's Barbie: Pet Rescue . . ." he says.