Ground
Mud... or coffee?
Daniel stretched aching arms above his head and yawned hugely, shaking his head slightly to remove a bit of grit from his eye. Relaxing again he looked around the site, rubbing his forehead absently.
The area was incredibly busy, SG-13 packing the tools into the several FREDs and finishing levelling off the earth in the filled-in trenches. The natives of the planet had insisted on the turf being replaced exactly as it was, and this had added almost an entire day to the end of the dig. Picking up the bucket with its bag of finds safely within, he sighed and began to trudge towards the others.
"You might want to clean your forehead," commented Doctor Gunn whimsically, the British archaeologist from SG-11 who had been onsite working as his assistant. Daniel blinked and looked at his hands.
"Did I leave another mud streak?" he inquired, dumping the bucket and its precious contents by the side of the FRED that Dr Gunn was kneeling beside, sorting through the rest. She looked up and nodded solemnly. Daniel let out a small snort and scrubbed his dirt-encrusted hand across his face again.
"Better?"
"Hardly."
"Figures."
Their short conversation was laden with weariness, four tense weeks at the dig taking their toll. The archaeologists had fretted to General Hammond about how futile a mere four weeks would be, but looking back now they were glad. The soil of P4X-771 was thick and damp and energy draining to move, and added to that it was incredibly staining. Every member of the SGC on this dig was covered at least to the elbow in the dark earth, and the cleaning products sent from Earth were proving useless. Daniel silently conceded as he looked at his hands that he was most definitely looking forward to a long hot shower back on Earth.
The familiar siren of the SGC echoed through the commissary as lunchtime was in full swing, the sound of chairs scraping back in a hurry almost drowning out the reassuring statement that this was, in fact, a scheduled activation. Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter exchanged glances as grumbling airmen resumed their seats.
"That's Daniel, right?"
"Most probably, sir." Sam looked with regret at her half-finished bowl of jell-o before dropping the spoon with a decisive gesture, "Shall we?"
Jack swept an ironic hand before her. "After you." He strode after her out of the commissary with a grin.
"Jack! Sam!" Daniel raised a weary but genial arm in a wave as the last of the team came tramping down the aluminium ramp, followed by the ponderous FREDs. Pushing his glasses up his nose he smiled as he reached his waiting friends.
"Place fall apart without me?" he asked solemnly.
"Oh, we barely knew you were gone," commented Sam with a wide-eyed expression.
"Our only clue was that the base's coffee consumption dropped by about two thirds," added Jack blandly.
"Oh really. Really." Daniel rolled his eyes and reached out to mock hit Jack on the shoulder. However the Colonel caught his wrist before he even touched him, turning his hands over with a reproving tut.
"Did you even think about cleaning up a little, Danny?" he said, shaking his head at the mud caked fingers and brown-stained hands of the archaeologist.
"Have you never been on – sorry, stupid question," Daniel made a face. "Most digs get pretty muddy, but nothing a good permanent shower won't take care of. I must say though, P4X-771 takes the prize for the worst I've come across." He held out his stained arms ruefully, and his teammates laughed.
"Well, don't let me keep you from that shower – I must say I don't begrudge you that dirt. Now if you'll excuse me, I left my pie..." and Jack gestured vaguely in the direction of the commissary and his abandoned lunch. Daniel's concentration was diverted however as he stared curiously at his hands, and he waved in friendly dismissal.
"Greater love hath no man that he lay down his pie fork for his friends," he intoned lightly. "And I just bet you left your bowl of blue jell-o behind, Sam..." he looked up with a grin at the Major, who dipped her head to hide a wide grin.
"Right as always. See you later, Daniel."
Daniel nodded absently, still staring at his hand. Shaking his head, he set off in the direction the rest of the expedition had gone.
An hour later the six members of SG-13 and the two archaeologists were sitting with damp hair and clean fatigues in the briefing room. General Hammond eventually came out of his office, clearing his preoccupied scowl to replace it with a slight smile.
"Good afternoon, SG-13, Doctor Jackson, Doctor Gunn. I'm glad to see you have - " he paused, looking at the one hapless person whose hand was visible above the table. "Did you not clean up properly, Doctor Jackson?" he asked, half remonstratively, half amused. Daniel cleared his throat and looked apologetically at the mud stains that for some reason had a definitely different tinge of colour to them than he remembered. Looking pointedly at the others, they all reluctantly pulled their similarly coloured hands above the table. Some even had smudges on their necks or faces, and Daniel himself was feeling rather uncomfortable with a smear of mud on his forehead. Blinking slightly he spoke up.
"It appears that the soil of P4X-771 has very... adhesive qualities, General," he said glumly.
"And what does Doctor Frasier think of this?" inquired Hammond, a little nonplussed as he realised for himself that the entirety of the archaeological team were in a similar state.
"She advises that we stay on base for at least 24 hours of monitoring," scowled Major Roberts, rubbing a mud-stained thumb across the brown knuckles of his other hands. Hammond sighed but looked slightly mollified.
"Indeed. Well in which case, we may as well continue with this debriefing. Doctor Jackson, a brief summary of your finds?"
"Of course, General."
Daniel wandered back to his office, longing for a cup of coffee after the long debrief. Then he remembered with a scowl that his favourite beans were still at his apartment. Dammit! Closing the door behind him with a little more force than necessary he dropped down in the familiar chair and stared blankly at the huge box on his desk, filled with little bits of pottery and a large piece of stone sticking up in the corner. What was- oh yes. The finds. All stained a pervading purplish-brown. Joy. Scrabbling in his desk drawer for his rough notebook, he began to methodically sort through them, checking each piece against the list of small finds tucked into the box.
Hours passed. After about four Daniel, feeling annoyed that none of his friends had come to find him but too weary to bother getting up, decided to close his eyes for just a bit. After all, it couldn't harm. He was rudely awoken by a sharp impatient tap on the door.
"Daniel, you here?" Jack strode in without waiting for an answer, a solemn Teal'c pacing in his wake. Daniel made a small annoyed noise and lifted his muzzy head.
"What now, Jack?" he asked, moving a piece of pottery from under his cheek and sitting up. Finding himself subjected to his teammates' intense scrutiny, he blinked.
"Jack? Teal'c?"
"Look this way a bit...? Oh for crying out loud, you too." Jack rolled his eyes and rummaged in his pocket.
"What? What?" Daniel was thoroughly irked now, and got to his feet. "Someone tell me what the problem is."
"It appears that the soil of P4X-771 reacts with something in our Earth's atmosphere," Teal'c said, a smile lurking in his impassive eyes.
"Which does what, exactly?" Daniel gave the pair a filthy look as Jack fished a mirror from his pocket.
"This?" O'Neill held up a small mirror that looked like it came from the infirmary. Daniel stared at his own reflection.
"I hate it when this happens," he sighed, flopping back into his chair.
"The purple is quite fetching though, Daniel," Jack could not conceal his smirk. Daniel scowled at his reflection again, the angry lines not concealing the fluorescent violet smudge on his forehead. "And the Doc says you have to come down to the infirmary as well," Jack said, pocketing the mirror. "The entirety of SG-13 looks identical. Frasier sent me to fetch you and Doctor Gunn. Is she here?"
Daniel got up again, yawned and found himself longing for coffee again. "She's in the archaeology lab further down the hall. Can we at least stop at the commissary for some coffee first?" This last held a note of pleading in it as he followed his friends to the door. Jack looked indecisive, but Teal'c shook his head.
"Doctor Frasier requested that you be brought immediately."
"But I'll bring you some, if you want," Jack added, wincing at Daniel's black look. Or should he say purple.
"I'm telling you, if this stain wasn't already colouring it, my arm would be bright red," complained Major Roberts about an hour later as yet another concoction was poured over the offending stain. "What is the point? I mean, at least we should be allowed to go home and just say that there was a chemical accident or something?"
"Humour me and stay here a while longer," Janet Frasier replied briskly, scrubbing at a tired lieutenant's wrist. "If we can work out what it was that was in the soil that reacted, we should be able to remove it without difficulty."
"And until then?"
"You can stay on base. The official story is quarantine until further notice."
"Sounds thrilling."
"And that's enough from you, Doctor Jackson," Frasier turned reproving eyes to where the archaeologist was lounging on a chair, one hand sitting soaking in a bowl of acetone and the other cradled protectively around a mug of the base's cheap coffee.
"I can't help it, I'm just like that," protested Daniel innocently, raising his eyebrows in an innocent gesture. Just then Sam and Teal'c decided to make their appearance.
"Any progress?" Sam came over to stare curiously at the purple limbs being scrubbed, dunked and otherwise scoured, their owners either sitting in long-suffering silence or sniping at the harassed infirmary staff. Janet looked up.
"We sent a MALP to collect a soil sample from the planet. You can take a look if you like; we're still trying to isolate the staining compound, I mean it's going to be something like a chromium compound, but we just can't be sure... and in the meantime, nothing really seems to be working." Her next words were drowned out by a disbelieving outburst from the normally quiet Dr Gunn.
"What the hell was that?" she yelled, holding up a dripping arm that was now tie-dyed with interesting pale green swirls among the purple. The nurse cringed back a bit and rummaged for the bottle label, and Sam shook her head slightly. Maybe she should go and have a look at that soil sample. Their mission that had been scheduled to start soon after Daniel returned was going to be right out the window if they didn't find some answers. However she couldn't hide a slight grin at the multi-coloured archaeologist and Captain Raymonds with a large purple stripe across his face, and she slipped out before it could be seen.
Teal'c came over to sit beside Daniel, who despite his coffee was looking miserable. He had tried to brush his short hair across his forehead to hide the violent lavender patch, but it was still uncomfortably clear, and there was no denying that with it he looked rather – odd, to be polite. Teal'c tried to grin encouragingly.
"I have brought you a present, Daniel Jackson," he said, trying to adjust his large bulk on the small infirmary chairs.
"Oh yes? What would that be?" replied Daniel, trying to keep the tired sarcasm out of his voice but failing miserably. Teal'c sighed and produced a black scrunched up piece of material, proffering it silently. His friend put down the coffee mug and took the item from him, looking puzzled. Teal'c smiled slightly.
"I often find this hat helpful to cover strange marks on the forehead," he commented, getting to his feet and heading towards the door. Daniel was about to launch a blistering reply, and then realised that this was supposed to be helpful, not a comment on how ridiculous he looked.
"Thanks, Teal'c" he said with a rueful grin, pulling the beanie down over his head with a purple hand. Teal'c paused at the door, inclined his head slightly, and then left.
It was three days later. No progress whatsoever had been made on the purple SGC members, and they were greeted with cheerful jeers as the 'Purple People' throughout the base. Daniel wandered around glumly with Teal'c's hat jammed firmly on his head, and wished for some decent coffee. Eventually he collared Jack and threatened to reveal his paperclip fetish if he didn't drive to Daniel's apartment to retrieve the special bag of coffee beans. Funnily enough this seemed to work, and the archaeologist's spirits lifted greatly as he set the kettle in his office to boil. Reverentially starting the ritual of creating a perfect drink full of caffeinated goodness, he even started to hum a little tune, resolutely ignoring the violet hands that were doing the necessary tasks.
Eventually all was done, and Daniel smiled in anticipation as he picked up the cup. His oasis of calm was shattered by the base alarm, and he yelped as the mug jerked from his hand and spilt across his knuckles.
"What did I do to deserve this?" he appealed to an uncaring sky, blowing feverishly at the scalding pain. It was no good; he'd have to go and see the doc again. Cursing in as many tongues as he could think off, he grabbed the cup and stalked off towards the infirmary.
Doctor Frasier looked up as Daniel walked in with his annoyed scowl fixed firmly in place.
"What can I do for you, Doctor?" she asked, rolling her eyes inwardly with a grin at the sight of the hapless archaeologist in her infirmary once again.
"I think I scalded my fingers on this freaking coffee," he replied, half angry, half mournful.
"And how long have you been told to be careful with hot drinks?" scolded the doctor with a grin.
"The manuals don't tend to deal with off-world sirens going off," he said succinctly, nodding towards the corner where the red swirling light had subsided. Janet laughed and took his wrist to examine the burnt area.
"Mmm, looks burnt," she agreed, looking carefully at the red blistering area on his hand. Then she blinked. "My God. It looks red!"
"Don't burns always go red?" Daniel raised his eyebrows ironically.
"But it's red! Not purple!" She traced the paler area where the coffee had splashed. "It's... cleaning?"
Daniel blinked and looked again. "You're right!"
"Aren't I always?" The petite doctor feigned hurt, then turned back to her tray of equipment and gauzes. "I'll do something about that burn, and then you have to show me what you used. I thought I'd already tried every single liquid in the base?"
"This is my special coffee," sulked Daniel, wincing as the doctor dealt efficiently with his fingers.
"That explains it..." Frasier said thoughtfully, laying gauze over the burns. "There, all done. Now, go bring the rest of the coffee beans."
"No way!" Daniel couldn't stop himself saying, then he felt rather foolish as the small doctor fixed him with a steely gaze. "I'll just go get it, shall I?"
"You do that."
General Hammond blinked as he entered the infirmary.
"Doctor Frasier?" he inquired, looking around at the happy chatter as the 'Purple People' were washing their stained arms with a clear brown liquid. "You said you'd found a solution to the mud staining problem?"
Janet nodded in way of reply as she scrubbed industriously at the forehead of the only miserable person in the room. "Yes sir, thanks to Doctor Jackson," she replied, dropping the cloth with a splash into the bowl of fragrant brown liquid. Hammond sniffed and his face took on an amused look.
"Why am I not surprised that it is Doctor Jackson's fault that the infirmary smells of coffee? But seriously, Doctor Frasier. Are you using coffee to clean this men?"
"My coffee, may I add," Daniel glowered.
"Congratulations, Doctors. Surely you should be happy that you are no longer – purple?" Hammond addressed the disgruntled archaeologist.
"Surely I should be unhappy watching my Jamaican Red Mountain being used cold as detergent?" he retorted. Janet grinned and got to her feet.
"It's doing the job, Daniel Jackson, take our thanks and be happy," she admonished. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."
Daniel sighed and reached for the bowl of clean water. He'd always loved coffee; he couldn't see his friends being surprised when he washed in it too. After all, what better way to wake up in the morning?
LAAAAAME ending. Let's think of something different, please. Reviews appreciated!
Author's note: I just spent two weeks on an archaeological dig at Vindolanda, on Hadrian's Wall. Trust me, it was almost as bad as the mud on P4X-771. xD Good inspiration, ne?
Kitty