The Fire Still Burns – Part 13
Janet took a step back, pulling off the surgical gloves as she did so. "You can put your shirt on now, sir." Half turning to throw the gloves in a nearby disposal bin, she continued to give instructions to Colonel O'Neill, all the while keeping an eye on her patient. Oh yes, the rash was almost gone. Her gaze roamed over the muscles rippling as he buttoned his shirt and she smiled to herself, lowering her eyes to the instrument tray in front of her. There was nothing wrong with appreciating the view but it was, she told herself, a purely professional interest. Laughing, she scoffed at her own thoughts.
"What's so funny, Doc?"
Whoops. Janet realized she had been daydreaming far too much and gave herself a swift mental kick. Smiling brightly and willing herself not to blush, she answered, "Nothing, sir. I'm just pleased with your progress."
"Uh huh." Much to her embarrassment Colonel O'Neill raised an eyebrow, gave her a knowing look, nodded slowly and twisted away slightly to finish buttoning his shirt.
"You'll need to put on some weight before your review, Colonel. That's only to be expected after a serious illness." Janet picked up the folder she'd prepared and hurried into an explanation of its contents. "There's a diet plan here that I'd like you to follow." She turned the blue plastic cover and tapped the first page with her fingertip. "I've included plenty of carbohydrates and protein rich foods…"
"Let me see." She looked up in surprise as the folder was pulled from her hand and watched as the colonel swiftly turned the pages. It wasn't long before he was staring back at her. "You've missed some stuff here, Doc."
"Sir?" She schooled her features into an expression of puzzlement, even though she knew exactly what coming.
"Where's the beer?"
Yes, she had been right.
"I explained, sir. The medication I've given you to take home is sufficient to ensure the bacteria are completely eradicated. The important thing now is to build your system back up and that you rest. The cardiovascular tests results were very positive, but you shouldn't tax yourself too much. I'd suggest a gentle regime of exercise to begin, in conjunction with the physiotherapy…"
"Ah!" A long finger was suddenly waving in her face. "Stop. I know all that. You explained it all when you told me I was going home. Now…" The colonel pointed accusingly down at the folder. "I ask again – where's the beer? And what about that cocktail – the one with the fruit and the naked woman. I intend to have one of them every day." He grinned evilly. "The cocktail I mean, of course."
"Are you sure? After all, you still get pretty tired. Even one a day might be too much for you in your weakened condition." She returned his evil grin with one of her own. "The cocktail I mean, of course."
Colonel O'Neill smiled happily back at her, obviously enjoying their banter. He jumped off the bed he'd been sitting on, showing no outward sign of stiffness or pain. Oh, they were there, Janet knew. She had been only half joking when she made the comment about his tiredness. It would be a while until he was back to full strength, but… She looked down, straightening her lab coat and blinked a couple of times to clear her suddenly blurry eyes…considering how close it had been…
"Hey, Doc, how about letting me out of here? I'll read through this properly, I promise – when I get home."
"No scratching."
"Of course not."
"You'll be sensible?"
He gave her another of his far too appealing smiles. "Can't say that for sure, Doc, but I'll do my best."
"You'll do more than your best, Colonel, or I'll have you back here faster than you can say Long Island Tea."
To Janet's surprise, instead of looking contrite and agreeing with her – not that she expected that anyway – Colonel O'Neill pulled a small notebook and pen from his back pocket and started writing.
"Long Island Tea – that's one I hadn't thought of. Plenty of alcohol in that. Yep…" He beamed. "It goes to the top of the list. Thanks, Doc. Got any more suggestions?"
"Out!" She pointed dramatically at the infirmary exit, hoping he'd leave before she succumbed to the laughter she could feel bubbling up inside her.
"I'm going, I'm going. Sheesh – anyone would think you didn't like me!"
Just as Janet thought she had managed to avoid breaking down in front of him, the colonel's head popped back around the door. "So – beer is out but spirits are okay? Thanks for clarifying that. Bye now."
And he was gone.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
"Makepeace."
"O'Neill."
Colonel Makepeace clasped his hands behind his back as he moved further back in the elevator car. He gave his fellow officer a quick glance. The man looked okay – sort of. There were a few blotchy looking patches on the back of his hands and it looked like he'd lost some weight, but apart from that he seemed fine – probably could have been back at work days ago instead of lazing in the infirmary having the pretty little nurses give him sponge baths. It wasn't for nothing that flyboys had a certain reputation with the women. Not that marines had anything to complain of in that respect…
"Hammond tells me you did a good job of being in charge." O'Neill's voice was a bit off too. It sounded dry. Like he needed a good long drink. Robert smirked, knowing Doctor Fraiser's standing orders for no alcohol while recuperating.
"Thanks, but I can't say I'll be sorry when you're back. Far too much paperwork and all those meetings with Hammond and the other section heads – those scientists, how do you cope?"
"I tend to tune out for most of it. You know – kept one ear on what's going on and the other planning my weekend."
"Won't be much planning for a while, I bet." He gestured to the folder in O'Neill's hand. "I see the Doc's given you plenty of do's and don't's."
The other man nodded, his expression glum. "Yeah, and this time it's harder than usual. No beer at all. Only cocktails and naked women. Oh, my floor." He was out the door before Robert could respond.
The man must still be delirious. For a moment Makepeace thought of reporting him to Doc Fraiser, but decided against it. The guy was, after all, a fellow colonel, even if he wasn't a marine.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
The chilly weather meant a barbeque wasn't an option and Colonel O'Neill wasn't really supposed to be spending too much time out of doors anyway. The last thing he needed, Janet had informed them, was to get another cold. In fact, she had said – very firmly – if they were intending to have a meal with him, better to make it home cooked and stay inside in front of the fire.
Not wanting to risk the doctor's ire or their commander's health, they had agreed. So here they were, a week after his release from the infirmary, sitting listening to him clattering around in the kitchen muttering disgustedly about the lack of Chinese or pizza.
Sam exchanged looks with her teammates and called loudly, "Would you like some help, sir?"
"I'm throwing some casserole dishes in the microwave, Carter. My biggest decision is whether to put the potato in before the stew or the stew before the potato or even, wait for it, them both in at once. I think I can cope."
There was the sound of the microwave door closing then the clinking of glasses.
"Could I assist you in carrying the beverages, O'Neill?"
Instead of answering, the colonel just appeared at the door, a tray of drinks held carefully in both hands. Sam stayed seated, but it was hard to just watch as the man stepped slowly down the short steps into the living room. She wanted to take the tray from him and tell him to sit and relax, but knew how well that would go over with the fiercely independent colonel.
"Pick your poison." The tray thumped slightly on the table as the colonel released it a little too soon. Daniel reached out a hand to steady the tall glass of water Teal'c had requested and Colonel O'Neill gave a sigh of obvious frustration as he virtually fell into his favorite armchair.
"Tired?" Daniel asked without looking up from pouring two white wines.
The disgusted grunt he got in answer was clear enough for them all to turn their attention to other topics. Daniel handed one of the glasses of wine to Sam. "Where's your beer, Jack? Did you leave it in the kitchen?"
"Nope, that's mine." The colonel pointed to a second glass of water on the tray.
"Water?"
"Yes, Daniel – water."
"But I thought…"
"What? That I was really going to spend the next few weeks experimenting with cocktails?" The colonel shook his head. "I'm not that stupid. The medication the Doc prescribed is doing its work and I don't need to be loading my system with more alcohol for no reason."
"But then why did you keep arguing with…" Sam stopped and grinned, having answered her own question. Because he could. Because it was fun.
The deep rumble of a car approaching the house could be heard through the noise of the wind outside. Colonel O'Neill straightened and morphed into command mode, rapidly snapping out orders. "Quick – that's the doc. I forgot to tell you I'd invited her. Carter, go answer the door, but take your time. Daniel, there's a glass in the refrigerator – you'll know which I mean as soon as you see it. Bring it in here. T, grab the piece of paper under that book and hand it to me."
By the time Sam was back in the living room with Janet, the colonel was lounging back in his chair, a tall glass filled with fruit and umbrellas in one hand and a list in the other.
"Oh, hi Doc. I was just discussing the relative alcohol content of various beverages with T and Daniel. It's amazing how they vary." He waved the glass. "Want a cocktail?"
The End
Author note: That's it - all done. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for the wonderful reviews throughout the story - they were much appreciated and helped me to keep going.