Chapter 7
By the time SG-1 had returned, Jack had improved slightly but it was slow going. After all the post-mission protocol, the first thing Daniel did was to go and sit by his friend's side. At least Jack was able to breathe on his own again, though still not without the aid of an oxygen mask. His lungs were still compromised.
Dr. Brightman was pleased with the samples that SG-1 had brought back with them, though according to Daniel, the Venastrans' were slightly put out that the Ambassador's 'touch' had brought about the General's downfall, though he was heard to remark that Jack's hand had almost burned his hand too with it's heat. Daniel felt mollified that Kaytan should at least suffer some small thing in return for almost killing his friend.
Not that Daniel was a vindictive man by any means, but the alien's attitude when they had first asked for a sample was anything but friendly towards them. With a great deal of patience and a hell of a lot of tact, he'd explained the situation that through no fault of theirs, or Jack's, that Jack and everyone else just happened to be allergic to them; though he wasn't about to prove it one way or another that it was a real problem with them all. He'd kept his hands to himself, and would accept that the Doctor was right in her hypothesis.
Placating the Venastrans' was a difficult job, but Daniel won out in the end and the reluctant and somewhat broody Ambassador acquiesced; then Sam, wearing surgical gloves, swiped a couple of sterile swabs over each of the man's hands. She'd sealed them in separate containers and they returned home, with Daniel reassuring them that it had in no way compromised their negotiations.
Sam came into the room and sat with him for a while, before leaving to work in her lab. Teal'c came by and stood sentinel at the foot of Jack's bed, watching over the two of his friends while they slept; Daniel was resting his head on the side of Jack's bed and snoring lightly, too tired to be bothered to move, yet too anxious to leave. He wanted to await the verdict from the lab where they were working hard to effect a cure.
After many hours of trial and error, Dr. Brightman entered the room and administered the final preparation of medication that they all wanted desperately to work on Jack. She patted Daniel's shoulder as he sat up and watched.
Now all they had to do was wait and hope.
Two days later:
The fire racing through his veins seemed to have dulled and the heavy ache of his limbs had eased. Noises began to filter through to him as he lay there, stiff with pain. The tightness of his chest eased greatly and he found breathing was easier to accomplish. His throat was dry and his tongue felt furry and tasted like something had crawled in there and died.
His eyelids were heavy though he could see a brightness through them, meaning that wherever he was there were bright lights above him. Soft voices penetrated his mind; voices that he knew. His friends.
He tried to prise his eyes open but they weren't co-operating yet, so he drifted back to sleep because it was easier than fighting against it.
"Jack?"
Someone was calling him, but he was reluctant to respond.
"C'mon Jack. I know you're in there. It's time to wake up!"
He moved his head slightly, trying to get away from that annoying person dragging him from his rest.
"He's trying to wake up Doctor. I'm sure of it. He moved."
Dr. Brightman moved closer and pulled her pen-light from her pocket. Lifting the nearest eyelid carefully, she flicked it towards the exposed pupil.
Jack flinched and pulled away with a grumble; he'd been quite happy to stay asleep. In fact he'd almost managed to drown out the voices again.
He blinked a few times adjusting to the brightness of the infirmary.
Dr. Brightman was smiling down at him and for a moment he felt totally disoriented, wondering how he came to be there. Then it slowly sank in. He'd been sick, sicker than he'd felt in a long time. He recalled sending SG-1 and 3 off on a rescue mission and then…? He groaned when he realised he'd collapsed in the control room in front of everyone. He remembered feeling dizzy, then Daniel and Dave Dixon were grabbing him as his legs gave way, then nothing.
"Crap!" he croaked softly.
"General?"
"Doc."
"Feeling better?"
"No!"
She smiled knowingly which irked him. How would she know if he was or wasn't?
"You're obviously feeling better Jack, considering that you've been out of it for the past two weeks or so!" Daniel stated with a grin.
"Two weeks?"
Daniel nodded and his grin widened, confirmed by the fact that Dr. Brightman grinned too.
Jack blew out a breath, but it ended up a cough. He groaned afterwards, feeling like a mule had just kicked him in the ribs.
"What the hell happened?"
"You touched, Jack!"
"Uh? What?"
"You shook hands with Ambassador Kaytan. Remember?"
"And?"
"Well, not only were you allergic to his touch, but you were also allergic to the beer you drank or rather hardly drank."
"Huh?"
"You had an extreme reaction to the secretions on the Ambassador's skin General in combination with a chemical reaction to the beer. You've been very sick. Your lungs were compromised from the reaction, and we had to put you on the ventilator, that's why your throat probably feels a little sore."
Jack nodded as Daniel spooned a few ice chips into Jack's mouth for him. Jack savoured the feel as they melted and slid down. He gestured for some more and Daniel obliged.
It took a little effort but Jack managed to bring his hand up to his face and grimaced at the bandage wrapped round it.
"Doc?"
"The point of contact sir. Your hand badly blistered as if you were burned. It'll be fine in a few days General."
"Okay. So does this pose a problem Daniel?" he asked wearily.
"No. We've explained everything to the Venastrans. We had to go back and take a few samples from the Ambassador's skin, but eventually he understood. They're still willing for the negotiations to go ahead. When you're fully recovered of course."
"I can't wait. Guess I won't be shaking hands on the deal then?"
"Not unless you wear gloves Jack."
"If it's any consolation General. I tested everybody's reaction and they would all be in the same boat. There is something in the Venastrans' skin that reacts badly when in comes into contact with human skin. Dr. Jackson wasn't fooling General. You will have to wear gloves next time. Though I wouldn't recommend that you drink that brand of beer again sir."
He shrugged and yawned, feeling worn out already.
"Yeah, whatever," Jack sighed, too tired now to be bothered with trivial details.
Daniel was smirking and Jack glared up at his friend.
"What?" he asked testily really wanting to close his eyes and go back to sleep again.
"It's just...well, what would everyone say if they knew you'd become allergic to beer Jack? I'll be ordering you orange juice next time we go to the bar," he snorted.
"Daniel!" Jack warned with a growl which sounded far less menacing as it should have, considering his voice was so croaky.
"Get some rest sir," the Doctor said, "I'll be back later to check on your progress." Turning to Daniel, she shot him a 'no-nonsense' glare. "And there's no need for you Dr. Jackson to stay here any longer. The General is improving now, so there's no excuse. Go home and get some proper sleep."
"Yeah, you do that Daniel," Jack said with a hint of a grin.
Daniel was about to object but thought better of it when she deepened her scowl.
"I'll...em...see you later Jack."
"Go home Daniel. You look worse than I feel!"
"Thanks Jack," he responded with sarcasm.
Jack sighed and closed his eyes.
"Just...go home!" Jack reiterated drifting off to sleep. "And Daniel..."
"Yes Jack?"
"Thanks..."
Daniel grinned, despite Jack's bark, he was more than happy to see his friend on the mend.
"You're welcome Jack," he answered with a huge yawn of his own.
"...but if you ever buy that crap again so help you god...
Doctor Brightman interrupted his warning and hurried Daniel away, leaving her patient to go back to sleep.
Chapter 8
After making good progress over the next ten days, Jack was finally released and allowed to go home to recuperate for another week, much to the relief of the nursing staff. Within the allotted week though, he was back, unable to stay off the base, complaining he'd spent too long away already.
He was welcomed by his ex-team-mates as well as Walter who'd genuinely missed him, and the rest of the teams and personnel that inhabited the lower levels beneath NORAD.
He hadn't been back more than 30 minutes when the first problem arose over something quite trivial, and he began to wonder why he had bothered to return so quickly. However he relaxed slightly and breathed a sigh of relief when the klaxons resounded around the walls, and soldiers rushed into the gate-room to take up their positions. This was what it was all about.
The silver Trinium leaves of the iris swirled across the opening of the wormhole to block access to the SGC.
Jack hurried down to the control room followed by Sam, Daniel and Teal'c, who were still wary of his early return to work and had practically followed him everywhere.
"What've we got Walter?"
The technician smiled up at his CO. It was good to see the General back again. They had all been worried about him. Who'd'a thought that he would have missed the irreverent and sometimes exasperating spirit that was General O'Neill.
"It's from P3Z 730 sir."
"Isn't that the planet where SG-14 ran into trouble with the Jaffa?" Jack asked, shocking everyone by his knowledge of that planet's designation and those events even when he wasn't really with it at the time. Jack had collapsed just after the rescue team had gone there to retrieve the embattled team. "What?" he asked at their surprised faces. He wasn't going to tell them that he'd read through the reports a little while ago; let them think he had some brains for a change.
"Er...yes sir, it is," Sam replied in astonishment. This man would never cease to amaze her. He certainly wasn't as dumb as he made out. He couldn't be, otherwise he wouldn't be a General, she reasoned.
"Hello SGC," came the heavily accented voice floating across the universe via the M.A.L.P that had been left behind in the rush to evacuate.
Everyone looked up at the monitor, seeing several Jaffa moving into positions. The aliens obviously hadn't realised there was a camera filming every move they made. Did they think the people of Earth were that stupid, and just how did they know the address to dial?
Jack glanced across at his friends to see if they had spotted the troops taking up positions too. He responded anyway, wondering what it was they wanted.
"This is General Jack O'Neill. How may we be of help to you?"
"Greetings General Jack O'Neill. We wish to offer you the hand of friendship between our two worlds. May we invite you and your people to our visit our lands so that we may trade."
Jack turned, a surprise clearly written on his face as well as something else. He looked down at his still scarred hand and cringed in remembrance of what had happened after the last time he'd offered someone his hand to shake. The blisters had nearly all gone but the residue of hard skin was still a reminder.
He looked up to the monitors again. They could all see that these people had no real intention of becoming friends. They were amassing troops beyond the gate. In all likelihood another trap.
"Oiy!" Jack sighed to himself and shook his head. He turned back to the microphone.
"Ah...Ya know, I've been there, done that whole 'hand of friendship' thing. It turned out it bit me, so, I don't think so. Thanks, but no thanks. Certainly not with all those Jaffa you have hiding around the area just waitin' to ambush anyone who arrived there. I'll tell you what though, you wanna try that friendship thing with the people of PZ52 918. They'll give you a rousing welcome I'm sure. They have one heck of a welcome wagon just dyin' to be offered to friendly folks like yourselves. Oh! And don't call us...we'll call you. Have a nice day!" Jack said snidely, and gestured with a hand slicing across his throat meaning for Walter to cut the transmission and shut the gate down; which the technician did with a grin.
"Or we could give him a few bottles of that beer Jack?" Daniel suggested.
Jack glared daggers at him for even bringing that subject up again. He was never going to live down the fact that he was allergic to whatever it was it had contained; damn foreign stuff. He glanced down at his hand again then looked up to see his old team looking at him with suspicion.
"It's fine thanks, and I have every intention of keeping it that way. From now on...no more shaking hands...with anyone!" Once bitten, twice shy, his mind confirmed and he was sooo not gonna acknowledge the jibe about the beer.
"Not even the President?" Daniel asked; his voice mocking.
Jack pouted and rolled his eyes.
"Oiy!" he sighed before turning away to leave them to it. He retreated to his office watched closely by his friends.
Daniel, Sam, Teal'c, and Walter burst out laughing as Jack took the stairs two at a time. Yes sir, it was good to have Jack back in the driving seat again. They'd sorely missed him.
Jack sat down in his chair, behind his highly polished desk and sighed. He had a job to do and was determined to do it to the best of his ability, though that little part of the ritual of shaking hands to confirm friendships or deals; well, he was sooo gonna let Daniel be the first one to shake on it next time.
The End.
I hope you all liked the story. Thanksto those of you who sentreviews. Please let me know if you enjoyed this...I need feedback!