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Stargate SG1 and its characters are property of Stargate (II) productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money was exchanged. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations and story are property of the author. This story may not be posted anywhere else without the consent of the author.
Notes: Ring out that old tune! Unbeta'd yet again, so mistakes are mine, the glory is mine ... :P
Anyone who passed Colonel Jack O'Neill in the halls of the SGC this fine morning did well to steer clear of the man. Something was up; even those who didn't know O'Neill personally knew the man's reputation - all signs pointed to the fact that O'Neill was a man on a mission. Each airman, officer and civilian sent silent prayers to whatever higher power they believed in to grant O'Neill's poor victim strength and mercy.
Hands stuffed deep in his BDU pockets, rocking slightly on his heels and whistling a tuneless ditty as he waited fro the elevator on level 28, Jack O'Neill was feeling rather...mischievous. Having just come from a short meeting with General Hammond, Jack had become privy to some useful information - namely, the facts that: (a) SG-6 had acquired a hefty load of artifacts on P-somethingorother (okay, so he zoned out there for a bit), and (b) those artifacts had just this morning been delivered to the door of one Dr. Daniel Jackson. After a rather boring weekend at home while Daniel brooded at his apartment over the abandoning bastard Nick, the Crystal Skull and certain giant aliens, Jack was eager to pull his friend out of his funk. Swallowing a broad grin, Jack had rapidly excused himself from the General's presence, and here he was.
As the elevator doors rolled open, Jack was nearly bowled over by an equally eager Sergeant Siler and his fellow advocate of the Giant Wrench, both snapping off apologetic salutes as Jack not-so-neatly sidestepped them and plastered himself to the curving wall of the hemispherical corridor. Shaking his head slightly as Siler and his cohort rushed off for some wrench-requiring Control Room repairs, Jack swung into the empty elevator and reached for the button for level 18...to discover every floor already lit up.
"Siler," he muttered in disbelief. The reserved, stoic technician certainly seemed to have one mean sense of humor, and Jack filed that little tidbit of information away for future use with a sigh as the elevator began its long, irritating, much-interrupted rise to level 18.
By the time Jack escaped to level 18, leaving some poor unaware lieutenant to suffer the rest of the doomed elevator ride, his mood had fouled somewhat, but he quickly found it catching up with him as he sauntered down toward the closed door of Daniel's office. He grinned as the sound of Daniel muttering to himself floated through the door, and Jack rapped on the door as loudly as he could.
There was the clatter of a pen hitting a desk and the abrupt scrape of a chair against the floor, accompanied by a muffled "Geez". Jack waited with exaggerated patience outside (though he knew very well that the doorwas often closed, but was rarely locked), not entering until he heard Daniel called him in.
"Go away, Jack," was the irritated, unexpected greeting.
Deciding he'd take what he could get, Jack opened the office door with a flourish and stepped inside with a regal air. "Goooood morning, camper!" he chirped.
Daniel dropped his forehead to the desk with an audible thump, his right hand clasping a pen and the other wrapped around his abdomen. Jack winced. "Careful there, Dannyboy - don't want to dislodge any of those languages of yours, do you?"
A stinkeye of death was directed his way, and Jack frowned when he took in the pale hue of Daniel's face as well as the dark circles under the archaeologist's eyes. "You feelin' okay?"
Daniel's features smoothed out from his glare to a look of mild surprise. "Yeah, fine. Why?"
Jack shrugged, and another evil grin lit upon his face when his gaze fell on the quantity of artifacts strewn across the long table. "No reason. Heeeey..." He reached out to pick up an ivory-like tablet. "What's this? Laundry list?"
"Jack-" Daniel groaned.
"Ah. How could I even think that? Grocery list," he corrected himself smugly. Daniel's hand snapped out and retrieved the tablet, and Jack nosed around until he found a pair of twin statuettes modeled after what appeared to be Zeus hurtling lightning bolts. "Nice," he marveled.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Daniel grumbled, lunging forward to snatch back the carvings. His breath caught on the forward motion, and he froze momentarily, and unreadable expression fleeting across his face. He shook it off quickly, though, and sat down again with a grunt. "Jack, please let me get back to work," he begged.
"Sure." Jack seated himself on the corner of the desk. "Don't let me stop you. I'll just watch the curator of the Jackson Museum doing what he does best." He grinned as an unwilling little smile curled one corner of Daniel's mouth, and pointed to the sword Daniel had sitting in front of him as he scribbled furiously in his notebook. "Greek?" Jack guessed.
Daniel glanced at him briefly over the tops of his glasses. "Actually, this culture is a hybrid of Greek and Aztec - a pretty bizarre combination."
"I'll bet." Jack started juggling a few pens, tossing them in a finale that had the three of them landing neatly in the open drawer of Daniel's desk. The younger man swiped a hand over his forehead, sighing heavily.
"I really have to finish this, Jack," he said wearily. "Can you...possibly..."
Jack hopped up again, pacing the office. "Daniel, you've been locked in your apartment all weekend; you can't hide out forever."
"I know that, Jack, but..."
"So as soon as you're finished here..."
"Jack?"
"...we're blowing this joint and you, me, Carter and Teal'c are taking a little sojourn to Minnesota!" He reached for the closest artifacts perched on a shelf.
"Jack!"
"Don't worry; I'm just looking."
"No-Jack, I-"
"What?" Jack turned, two pieces of pottery in his hands, smile fading when he took in the fact that Daniel had paled about three more shades, looking nearly translucent. "Daniel?" he drawled.
"I don't...I don't feel so well," Daniel said worriedly, grimacing and wrapping both arms across his stomach.
"What; this some kind of scheme to get out of fishing?" Jack chuckled nervously, immediately putting down the pair of urns when Daniel groaned. He moved to the other man's side, crouching beside him. "What is it?"
"My side," Daniel gasped. "It's been a bit sore all weekend-" he laughed painfully. "Thought it was indigestion; it's been getting worse all morning."
"I knew it," Jack hissed, but very carefully tucked his hands under Daniel's arms. "Let's move you over to the couch, all right? Get you laying down before you fall down. I'll call Fraiser down here." The fact that Daniel didn't debate this shoved Jack's worry up another notch. Daniel hissed and bit back a pained cry as he was hefted slowly to his feet, attempting to curl over on himself as his knees buckled. "Easy, easy," Jack muttered. "Just a little farther," he coaxed, reflexively tightening his grasp as Daniel started to squirm. "Daniel-"
"Gonna be sick," Daniel panted, and promptly made good on his prediction, the little bit he'd managed to eat over the past few days making an abrupt return appearance. Jack steadied him as he retched and dry-heaved for long minutes before slumping forward bonelessly, sweating and shaking and allowing Jack to generally manhandle him onto the small couch. He settled on it with a strangled gasp of agony, and Jack squeezed his shoulder gently before rising to go to the phone. "I'll be right back," he promised.
Daniel curled up on his left side as much as he could, drawing his knees up toward his chest. He was dimly aware of Jack's voice speaking urgently into the phone on the desk, the sound nearly drowned out by the blood pulsing in his ears, throbbing in time to the rising pain in his lower right side. 'Appendix,' he thought blearily, and started a little when a hand touched his forehead. Daniel forced his eyes open to find Jack back at his side, his expression mirroring Daniel's own fear, and he thumbed away the tears of pain Daniel didn't even realize he was shedding. Daniel leaned into the touch, obscurely grateful for his friend's presence, and groped blindly with his right hand for something to hold onto.
Jack caught the flailing appendage, squeezing tightly as another wave of pain washed over Daniel and forced another whimpering moan, and his other hand gently pushed sweat-soaked strands of hair back from Daniel's burning forehead. "Take it easy," he heard Jack say soothingly. "Fraiser's coming; just hang in there."
Daniel nodded jerkily and squeezed Jack's hand tighter. "God, it hurts," he croaked, embarrassed at how high and weak his voice was to his own ears.
"I know," Jack said quietly, still stroking back Daniel's short hair. "It's probably your appendix. But don't worry; Fraiser'll have you fixed up in no time."
"Okay," Daniel whispered. His vision greyed as the pain intensified, and he did his best to concentrate on the comforting motions of Jack's hand. Then suddenly, more hands were on him, efficiently and painfully turning him over, a final burst of agony shot through his abdomen, and Daniel knew no more.
**
Still clutching Daniel's hand, Jack watched, shaken, as Fraiser and her small medteam efficiently moved Daniel to a gurney and hooked him up with an IV. Fraiser barked out numbers and stats that left Jack's head whirling, the practiced motions all around Daniel flowing easily like some morbid dance. Jack's stomach had lurched nauseatingly as Daniel had passed out when Fraiser and the team turned him onto his back, uncurling him. His friend was still frighteningly pale, and Jack turned to Fraiser. "Is he going to be all right?" he found himself asking past a lump in his throat as the team prepared to take off for the infirmary.
Fraiser found a moment to answer him, her gaze worried but determined. "I believe his appendix has ruptured, Colonel," she said briskly. "There may already be serious infection, judging from the seriousness of his fever. We need to move quickly - now- as in five minutes ago. Let's go, people!" she barked, and the gurney was swiftly removed from Daniel's office.
Jack found himself nearly running to keep up and keep his hold on Daniel's hand. "You'll have to wait outside, Colonel," Fraiser ordered when they reached the designated OR.
"Doc-" he began to protest.
"Colonel, you'll only be in the way and the last thing we need - what Daniel needs - is a human obstacle!" Fraiser snapped as the rest of her team and Daniel vanished inside. Jack nodded shakily, stepping back unconsciously. "We'll take care of him, Colonel," she said, tone much gentler as she opened the door. "We caught it relatively early after it ruptured and while there's danger, the infection likely hasn't spread very far."
"Right," Jack said hoarsely. "I'll just, uh...I'll go get Carter and Teal'c; they'll want to be here."
Fraiser nodded, and left him standing, frozen, in the corridor.
**
Consciousness returned slowly, silence giving way to faint buzzing, the darkness permeated by a faint grey. Daniel tried uselessly to open his eyes - it seemed like his eyelids were taped shut and wrestling 100-pound lead weights. He dimly became aware of a dull ache low in his belly that began escalating as he both drifted and was pulled away from the lull of sleep.
The buzzing became soft beeps of machinery, distant voices and the hiss of oxygen. He realized the last as a light weight around his nose and mouth, yielding a constant flow of cool air onto his burning face, made itself known. The pain reached a plateau, and Daniel couldn't get comfortable. Feeling himself break into a sweat, he shifted carefully and gasped softly when ache stabbed up his right side.
The quiet voices stopped, and a scrape on the floor was followed by a gentle, restraining warmth on his shoulder. "Easy."
Grimacing, Daniel forced his eyes open to see Jack sitting there, flanked by Sam and Teal'c. "Hey," he croaked.
His three friends smiled in relief, and Jack produced a cup of ice chips. He tugged the oxygen mask away carefully and spooned a few into Daniel's mouth, and Daniel relished the burst of liquid cold that slid down his dry throat. "Better?" Jack asked. He nodded, managing a half-smile.
"You scared us half to death," Sam said with a frown, coming around Jack to perch herself on the edge of Daniel's bed. "Why didn't you tell us you were sick?"
Daniel had the grace to blush, though he doubted his friends would be able to tell. He guessed he had a fever from the way he was hot and shivery all at the same time. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't think anything of it at first." He shifted again, and his discomfort must have shown on his face, because Jack hit the call button repeatedly.
Dr. Fraiser appeared at his left, the glare she directed at Jack dissipating into a soft smile when she met Daniel's gaze. "Welcome back, Dr. Jackson," she said warmly. "Need a little something to take the edge off?"
Daniel nodded. "Please." He glanced between Fraiser and his friends. "What happened, anyway? Last thing I remember, I was on my couch in the office."
"You passed out when Fraiser got there," Jack informed him, stil looking a bit shaken. "Your appendix ruptured. You could've died."
"What, again?" Daniel quipped as Janet returned and injected a painkiller in his IV port. His attempt at levity fell flat, and he cleared his throat. "But I didn't," he said with conviction. "I'm fine."
"You almost weren't," Sam said, squeezing his hand, "so for God's sake, tell us when stuff like this is happening. I don't think the Colonel's hair can take it."
They all laughed at Jack's expense, the colonel brushing a hand through his hair with dignity. "It's distinguished," he protested, though he grinned. Daniel felt the familiar drug-induced warmth spreading through his body, and his eyelids grew heavier again.
"Think I'm gonna turn in," he said lazily.
"You do that," Jack said, tousling Daniel's hair gently. "And then..."
Daniel was asleep before "we're going fishing" left his friend's mouth.
End!
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