Summary: Pure, 100% crack, as in the kind that doesn't even make sense... I had chocolate beforehand.

Disclaimer: I could, possibly, be the owner. Don't actually know... Well, just in case: I do not own Stargate. Blah.

Notes: Has anyone seen my sanity? Looks like a bald chicken with teeth. I'll be sane if you found it for me...

Jack walked cautiously into the cafeteria, raising an eyebrow at the squeaky giggling coming from a shadowed lump in the corner.

"Daniel?" Jack called out.

The only reply was a rise in the volume of the giggling.

Wary, Jack crept closer. "Daniel... Doc' Fraiser wants to see you. Wants to make sure you're alright..."

"Stole my precious..." the black lump squeaked distractedly. Then, without warning, the lump that should be assumed to be Daniel started ruffling through the cooler, throwing bottles and cans behind him and, incidentally, right towards Jack.

Surprised, Jack didn't dodge the can headed right for his forehead and toppled, rather spectacularly too!

"Ow..." he groaned.

The 'lump known as Daniel' paused in its endeavors and turned towards the leader of SG-1.

Jack couldn't say exactly what happened next.

One moment Daniel was in the corner. The next he was being stepped on by a maniacally happy Daniel who was waving around the brown can that was the cause of his recent headache.

The Next Day

Jack looked up as Daniel walked into the infirmary with a steaming cup of coffee in hand, wincing when Janet pressed a little too firmly on his brand new goose egg.

"Jack! What happened to your head?" Daniel exclaimed, sincerely puzzled.

Jack shot him a glare and then transferred his evil eye to Janet. "The next time you restrict his coffee, I'm not going to be the one sent to find him."