Title:
Pretty Baby
Author: Shannon
Rating: G
Spoilers:
General. Set S7-ish.
Summary: Last time Jack had checked,
he was fifty-years-old. So why was everyone suddenly acting like he
was five?
Author's Notes: For Commodore
Norrington
as she stumped me in the Name That Fic! game. Supposed to be a
drabble. This is not a drabble. Many thanks to Rinne
for beta-ing.
In retrospect, Jack probably should've realised something was up the moment SG-1 stepped through the gate and Sgt. Harriman's usually respectful face flushed red. The technicians around him all broke out in smiles and the normally stoic General Hammond practically bounced.
But Jack didn't notice. And therein lay the road to hell.
The first time he did notice something was odd, he was in the infirmary for the usual post-mission check-up.
Whenever the team arrived home uninjured, Janet would send a nurse or two over to help them settle. They'd chat with them, gossip about what had happened while they were gone (although Jack preferred the term chat) and get them into the dreaded hospital gowns. After that the nurses would leave them to wait impatiently as the Doc made her way through the check-up.
This time there were three nurses. And when they were done, they didn't leave. Instead they made their way over to Jack's bed and crowded around, talking animatedly. Dotingly, almost.
Jack found it a little odd at first. The nurses always flirted with him, yes, but typically it was only one at a time. And this wasn't quite flirting…
But when one of the nurses softly stroked his hair, it took all his strength not to moan happily. Who cared if it wasn't normal. It felt nice.
So he leaned back, closed his eyes, and let their talk wash over him. He didn't worry about what had caused it.
Besides, he'd just bought new deodorant.
The second time something strange crossed his vision, it was a day later and Jack was in his office.
Jack found it exceedingly bizarre having an office. Until he joined the SGC, it had never even crossed his mind to have one. He was an action man. Action men worked outside.
But still, he didn't mind it sometimes. It was his, a place away from the scarily smart people on base. And it was private. He could get all his paperwork done in there without interruptions.
Contrary to popular belief, Jack did do paperwork. It was impossible to be a Colonel without doing paperwork.
Of course, he only did the paperwork when he couldn't dump it on Carter or Daniel or Teal'c.
But this time he'd succeeded in the art of dumping. Which was why, five minutes after sitting down, he was rifling through his drawers, looking for his Gameboy.
After some time peering, he found it in the third drawer, hidden beneath scraps of paper and a week-old sandwich. Lying next to it was a square package.
He pulled out the Gameboy and the package and shut the drawer, before placing the items on his desk. Slowly, he peeled opened the package. A note slipped out and fluttered to the desk.
Thought you might like this.
Jack blinked and pulled out a box. Staring at it, he realised it was a game. How to Spell Your ABCs.
Brow furrowed, he gaped. What the hell?
After a rousing game of How to Spell Your ABCs, in which he followed the incredible guidance of Mr Man the Spelling Bee, Jack slowly wandered down to the commissary to meet his team for lunch.
As he rounded a corner, mind still focussed on the mystery of the game, he didn't notice the person heading towards him.
Thus, they crashed.
It took a couple of seconds for Jack's mind to react and all he could do was stare at the man opposite.
"Hi Jack."
"Hi… Lou."
Ferretti shook his head as he climbed to his feet. "Nice to see you've still got the skill of walking that you must have had when you were younger." He grinned.
Again, Jack stared. "Ferretti, you knew me when I was younger."
"Not that young." He helped Jack up. "See you around, Jack." Ferretti winked and strode away.
Jack gazed after him.
Carter was mid-mouthful and Daniel mid-sentence when he finally arrived and plopped into his seat. Teal'c showed up a minute later.
"Guys…" Jack started, stealing one of Carter's fries. She slapped his hand away. "Have you noticed anything weird going on?"
The other three exchanged glances. Teal'c raised an eyebrow and Carter smiled into her fork. Daniel blinked at him.
"Just what kind of weird are we talking about, Jack?" Daniel asked. "Is it in the I'm Addicted to Sparkly Lights, Our Friends Have Been Taken Over By Aliens, The World is Doomed or Why is This Lunchmeat Purple category?"
Jack grabbed a piece of pie off Teal'c's plate: he had two. No man bar Jack required two pieces of pie. "More the Why is This Lunchmeat Purple." He eyed the meat. "Why is it purple?" Blinking, he shook his head. "Anyway. Something's weird. The nurses... mothered me, I found a spelling Gameboy game, and Ferretti just said I have the skill of walking I had when I was younger. After crashing into him."
Carter stared very hard at her plate, lips quirking.
"Oh, for cryin'… Carter, you can laugh."
Bright-eyed and merry, she did. After several minutes of watching her try to breathe, Jack was feeling more than a little annoyed.
"What?"
Daniel grinned. "Oh, come on, Jack. You've got to admit that sounds a bit ridiculous. Just why is it weird?"
"It… just is." Jack glanced across at Teal'c. "C'mon, Teal'c, buddy, you think it's weird, don't you?"
Teal'c looked at the other two before returning his attention to Jack. "Indeed."
Jack stared at him. "I'm hurt, Teal'c. Really hurt. Even I can tell you don't mean that."
"Indeed."
"Oh, so it's the 'Indeed' treatment today. Fine. I'll see you all at the briefing later."
He snagged Daniel's bread roll and left the commissary, trying to ignore his teammates' laughter on the way.
By the time the briefing rolled around that afternoon, Jack was more than ready to just go home. He wanted to get away from the SGC; he needed to.
In the four hours between lunch and the briefing, Jack had:
• been laughed at by three different SG teams, including SG-3. He felt like pointing out to them (especially the damn SG-3 marines) that, hey, he was higher-ranked. He (well, his team, anyway) had saved the world several times. He was so much damn cooler than them, and so they shouldn't laugh at him.
But he didn't. Damn polite upbringing.
• tripped again, falling onto the ground, and consequently been asked if he wanted a Disney band-aid.
• had 'Hush Little Baby', 'Rock-a-bye Baby', 'Mary had a Little Lamb' and 'Baa Baa Black Sheep' sung to him. Several times over.
He was starting to feel like he was stuck in Bizarro World, where diapers and bottles were the items of choice, and Eric Clapton had been traded for Barney.
And he was starting to get very very irritated.
Halfway through the briefing, as Daniel began discussing how some writing on some statue from some planet SG-14 had returned from made reference to the Fountain of Youth, Jack cracked.
He leapt to his feet. "What's with all the references to damn babies!" he cried.
"Uh, Jack, this is the Fountain of…"
Jack raised a hand quickly. "I don't care, Daniel." He strode away from the table then spun back around. Hammond and his teammates stared at him. "All today, and yesterday - in fact since we got back - I have had people making baby cracks at me. The nurses petted my hair. Ferretti said I still walked like I was young. I've had nursery rhymes sung – yelled – at me all afternoon and somebody… somebody sewed the word 'diaper' onto my favourite hat!"
He glared around the room. "What the hell is going on?"
The others exchanged looks. Carter took a deep breath. "Colonel…"
He rocked back onto his heels. "Yes, Major?"
"You might want to check the map in the control room."
He eyed them all, then took off down the stairs.
The control room was relatively empty. There was Harriman at the computer, and a couple of other technicians poking at various blinking machines.
Jack headed straight for the map.
He looked it over. Country… Country… Another country… Continent… Huh. Small white rectangle in the centre of the ocean. It had writing on it.
Jack peered closely at the writing. It looked oddly familiar. He pulled out the pushpin and brought the paper to his face.
Dear Jack.
Happy 50th birthday! Can't believe you're so old now. You're making me feel absolutely ancient. I still remember this tiny little boy making all the mischief and getting ME in trouble.
Not that much has changed. Have a good birthday and check your damn answering machine more often. Maybe then I won't post things to your work with orders to stick it where everyone can see it.
Lizzy.
Dread slowly pooled in his stomach as Jack stared at his sister's writing. He took a deep breath, then slowly turned the paper over.
The paper was actually a photograph. Jack could only stare in dismay as a mud-covered, pale, brown-haired, naked little boy beamed brightly back.
"At least you were cute," a voice said behind him. "And three, instead of fifty." Jack glanced around to see Daniel and Carter grinning at him. Teal'c was practically dancing.
He looked back at the photograph. And his head slammed against the wall.