A/N: Thanks all, I know it was quite mean of me to leave it off where I did, but this story is only about 5,000 words, so I should be able to type it all up fairly quickly.

Previously...

Jack leaned into the table further. Everyone followed, until all of SG1 was leaned over the table in a tight huddle, over the syrup and jam. "Okay, Daniel, it was like this..."

Ch 2: Jack's Problem

Yesterday...

Colonel Jack O'Neill led his weary team out of the wormhole and down the metal ramp, their mission completed successfully and without incident. In fact, the only extraordinary thing about the mission had been the ungodly amount of walking between the Stargate and... anything else.

The combination of mile after mile of rocky, "gently" sloping terrain and the radically altering climate of P3R121, which featured daytime readings in the low 100s and nighttime readings in the 40s all factored into the fact that Colonel O'Neill couldn't ever remember being more sore and uncomfortable in his own skin. No doubt at some point he had been, but no specific incident came to mind at the moment. Sure, his knee hurt, but at this point in his career that was basically a given. His back hurt as well and his legs and feet were killing him – he even thought his hair was hurting.

He supposed it didn't help any that the rest of his team had spent the entire mission acting like kids playing hooky on a beautiful day. While the technological and architectural findings had been nil, which usually put a damper on both of his scientists' enthusiasm, they had turned the laundry list of samples to be collected into a scavenger hunt of sorts. Even Teal'c had joined in.

When Jack actually saw Carter and Daniel racing to a plant with spiky purple things, Jack felt old. Very old. Three days and nights on P3R121 and Daniel was as... Daniely as he ever was. And Carter was downright perky. Even her hair was still bouncy. Teal'c – well, he was sort of perky too, in his own Jaffa way.

Such was everyone else's good moods that Jack had actually been standing at the base of the ramp for a good five minutes, ruminating, and had yet to speak to the General, who was listening to Carter and Daniel's reports with that patient, slightly glazed look he seemed to reserve for the two of them when they got like this. Finally, they both paused to breathe at the same time, and Hammond was able to say, "Infirmary, people. Debrief in one hour." A chorus of 'yes sirs' and SG1 was off to the infirmary, Jack's least favorite place on base.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Dr. Janet Fraiser liked to think she knew more about the many officers and civilians who worked at the SGC than anybody. After all, she was the CMO. Everyone reported to her eventually. Still, she felt there were few people she could read as well as the four members of SG1, who collectively had a file cabinet all to themselves in her office, what with the wide variety of bizarre medical emergencies they tended to attract.

Of course, some of them were easier to read than others. For example, Janet guessed the mission had been fulfilling but uneventful by the way Sam, Daniel, and Teal'c all calmly entered the infirmary, greeted her pleasantly, and sat down in a row on a gurney, waiting patiently for their turns.

But she knew, based on the not-so-subtle way Colonel O'Neill was shifting uncomfortably, darting his eyes around the room, and favoring his knee as he walked, that he did not share his teammates' sentiments. He barked out a few answers to her routine questions and seriously looked as if he was considering zatting her when she tried to shine the penlight in his eyes.

"Rough mission?" she asked casually as she took his pulse. He gave her the look that plainly said he wasn't in a particularly chatty mood (when was he ever?) But, as always, the rest of the team was quick to make up for their Colonel's grumpy attitude.

From Daniel and Sam's joint recap, Dr. Fraiser quickly extrapolated a few key details: hot days, cold nights, rocky ground as mattress, lots of walking, O'Neill's bad knees. So the grumpy mood at least wasn't completely without merit. "Ice your knee until your debriefing in ten minute intervals, and although I'm probably wasting my breath yet again, you would feel a lot better with a simple..."

"I am not taking a bath, Doc," the Colonel said firmly.

Janet sighed, suddenly picturing a tiny Colonel O'Neill being dragged to the bath by his mother, kicking and screaming the whole way. "Soaking in the Whirlpool in the locker room is not 'taking a bath,' Colonel," she told him mildly, signing off on his chart. "But if it would make you feel better I could bring Cassie's old rubber ducky in tomorrow – she's outgrown it but I think he's still sea-worthy. Or tub-worthy, rather."

"Very funny, Doc. Oh, Carter! You're up! The good doctor and her shiny needles await!" he called loudly, getting to his feet.

"Think about it, Colonel," Janet called as the Colonel and Major swapped places.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Sam Carter was having an excellent week so far. After a blissfully peaceful mission where the most dangerous thing around had been her CO's increasingly bad mood and its correlating sarcasm, they had returned in one undamaged piece for a change, the Colonel's bad knee and sore back (which he still probably thought none of them knew about) notwithstanding.

To top that off, they came home to find that SG7 had found an unidentified alien device on their last mission and brought it back for her, and SG11 had something long and challenging for Daniel to translate, so he was probably ensconced in his own lab just as she was.

As she thought of Daniel, she glanced at the clock and realized it was almost two in the morning and she was officially through her first pot of coffee of the night. That meant it was time to go to Phase 2: rejuvenating shower wake-up call. She quickly got to a stopping point and made her way to the locker room, not even bothering to switch the sign from 'Men' to 'Women.'

In all her years at the SGC, the only person she'd ever run into in the locker room at this time of night was Daniel, who resorted to the shower wake-up technique occasionally, if he was out of coffee or something. Sam forced herself to jump into an ice cold shower to wake up, then dodged the water stream and added the hot water for the remainder of her shower.

After a quick shower, she got dressed again and headed back to her lab, not bothering to dry her hair. The entire process only took about twenty minutes, but now she'd be good for another two hours of hard work in the lab.