Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Well Folks, here's part Three of The Janet's Mission series. I may not be able to add anymore for a while, because I have a hell of a week coming up. So enjoy, and if you haven't, read the prequels! (They might make this make slightly more sense)

Jack O'Neill had had enough.

It was bad enough when Doc Frasier followed them offworld to poke him with her weapon of choice, but when she had shown up to team movie night, that was a little much. Last time he checked, she was not a member of SG-1.

That night had been hell. Two shots and Chicago. What a waste of film.

At least she didn't say anything about the pizza and the beer.

Still, he refused to go back to the Infirmary. He was only going to get poked again.

When Monday morning rolled around and it was once again time for him to slap his alarm off and head into work, it was harder for him than usual.

He was due for another Lyme booster. And he was not due to go off world until Wednesday, which meant two full days of paper work and meaningless briefings.

He could get a nap in then.

But he would not go in for those shots. No. Had he not had enough holes poked in him within the last week?

Life just wasn't fair.

He had once again scheduled this appointment at the very end of the day so he could slip out quietly without the doc noticing. It was the brilliant plan.

It hadn't worked the first time, thanks to Carter, but this time he hoped it would.

He had ordered Carter to keep her mouth shut in front of Janet.

He applauded his own brilliance.

As Jack pulled into his parking spot in the Cheyanne Mountain lot, he couldn't help but smile to himself.

No needles today, he would make sure of it.

But then his smile faded.

He had a mountain of paper work instead.

Maybe he could go pester Carter in her lab, that was always fun.

He didn't understand how Carter didn't mind being poked from every which way.

Maybe it was a female thing.

Yes, that was it. A female thing.

But Daniel didn't mind either. What did that mean?

Jack shuddered. He didn't want to know.

He sighed and resigned himself to his mountain of paperwork.

The day passed slowly for Jack. Too slowly. Yes, the mountain of paperwork on his desk was slowly diminishing, but not quickly enough for him. By 1300 hours, he needed to move around, to stretch his legs a little bit.

But where would he go?

Carter's lab?

No, she would probably hand him right over to the Doc. She had just had her booster a half hour ago.

Teal'c?

No, he would do his eyebrow thing and want to know why he was not finishing his paperwork.

Daniel's?

Ah yes. Perfect. To Daniel's it was.

As Jack entered Daniel's lab, Daniel had his nose buried deep in what looked like some new fascinating device.

"Enjoying ourselves, are we, Spacemonkey?" Daniel jumped.

"Jack! Don't sneak up on me like that!" Daniel stated, trying to catch his breath.

"Sorry. Got any new doohickeys in here that I can play with?"

"None that I feel comfortable letting you juggle."

"Comfort is in the eye of the beholder, Daniel. What's that?"

"No! Sg-4 just brought that back! And what's that supposed to mean? 'Comfort is in the eye of the beholder?'"

"Exactly what it sounds like, Danny boy."

"Whatever." Daniel shook his head. "Still, I have a lot of work to do. So if you don't mind – " He pointed towards the door.

"Aw, and I was just getting settled. Well, if you insist…"

"..which I do…" Daniel growled through gritted teeth.

"I'll just be on my merry way. Make sure that project is ready for the fair, young man. I expect you to win first prize this year."

And with that, he waltzed out the door.

Daniel shook his head.

Sometimes he wondered how he'd managed to put up with him for so long.

Finally, it was 1500 hours. He could go home!

Just as he was walking out of the locker room in his street clothes, he raised his bag in front of him.

And a good thing he did, too. As soon as he had done so, he felt a thud, as though someone had just run into him.

Someone very small.

"Haha! Got you, Doc."

"Colonel, you need your booster!"

"Doc, I'm not going to get it. I'm done for today and I'm out of here."

"Colonel…"

"Doc. Don't make me carry you back to your domain. What did Carter tell you this time?"

"That you had ordered her to tell me nothing."

"Good. Then she knows how to listen. So sorry, Doc, but I've got reservations for tonight. Toodles!" Janet could only stare at him as he walked down the hallway.

"Toodles? You said toodles to Janet?" Sam asked Jack in amazement.

"Yeah," Jack answered. "What of it?"

"Who says that anymore?"

"Aw, Sam, lay off him." Daniel said, fiddling with his napkin.

"Yes. I said toodles and walked out without the needle treatment. Speaking of treatment, where is our waiter."

"Right here," Said a voice behind him and before any of them saw anything, Jack felt an all two familiar sting.

"BLOODY HELL!" he screeched.

The restaurant went silent.

"Everything is okay, folks, continue your meal." The server stepped in front of the table.

"Hello, my name is…"

"We know what your name is," Jack snapped. "I take it you already have the drinks and you're buying us dinner?"

"That is correct, Colonel," Janet replied simply. She motioned to another server behind her.

"For you, Colonel, a Bud Light; Daniel, a diet coke; Sam, a scotch on the rocks; and Teal'c, a ginger ale."

"Thank you, Doctor Frasier."

"What did you get, Jan?" Sam asked curiously.

"Water with lemon. Nice and healthy. Now, if you'll excuse me, a minute, I should go return the uniform I borrowed."

"How did you find me this time, Doc?"

"Colonel, your mistake was the word "reservation". So if you don't mind, I'll be right back."

Jack couldn't help but watch her. Her stubbornness was somewhat admirable.

He shook his head.

The doctor? Admirable?

Heh.

She was nothing but a Napoleonic Needle Pusher.