The Trouble With Eavesdropping
PART 7
~~~~~~~~
JACK'S POV
~~~~~~~~
Daniel you dog!
I can't believe what I'm seeing here. Daniel is not only doing a damn good
impression of a Casanova, but that dip move of his is sweet! If I ever find myself
having a semblance of a social life again, I am *so* going to remember that move.
Poor Kira. The kid looks completely shell shocked. Daniel is never going to hear the
end of it. At least not from me! I can't help but grin a little as I watch as Daniel
carefully releases one completely dazed Barista. Danny, you did good.
Now it's time to clean house. Or at least kick a little collegeic ass.
I put on my scariest Colonel face and cautiously open the bathroom door. The punks
might be barely out of their teens, but that doesn't mean they can't cause some
damage. I'm heading into this unarmed; a crowded bar in no place for a loaded
weapon. I know it's the right call, but I feel a little naked without my trusty P-90 or
at least a handgun. A zat would be perfect, but that wasn't exactly an option here…
Red is standing against the back wall doing looking absolutely nothing like James
Dean as he lights up a cigarette. I let out a small snort of disgust as I look at the No
Smoking sign directly above his head.
"So I take it reading isn't a prerequisite for college huh?" I say conversationally as I
take several steps towards him.
"Huh?" Red says looking up.
"No Smoking." I say pointing to the sign.
"Go away Old Man." Red says with all the glorious bravado of youth. God, kids are
stupid.
I take another couple of steps towards him and shake my head. "It says No
Smoking." Before Red can even so much as blink, I grab hold of the cigarette and
flick it into the sink on my right.
Red stares at me as if I've grown a second head. Actually, it's a little like how we
looked at Daniel when he came back from that alternate reality and we were all
pretty certain he was nuts.
"What is your PROBLEM dude?" Dude?
"My problem," I say as I take the final step into his personal space and shove him
hard against the wall. "Is that a son of a bitch and I'm really not allowed to kill you."
Red's bravado slips several notches with that statement and I can see some definite
fear in his eyes.
Good.
"What the hell do you want with me, man?" He says struggling to escape my grip.
"I want so many things from you JAROD." I say as I reach into his jacket pocket.
"Beating the crap out of you is definitely on the top of my list." I feel the thin plastic
bag beneath my fingers and pull it out. "But barring that, I'll just see what you have
here."
"You're robbing me?!" Red says incredulously. I just shake my head. Nope. Guess
again. Suddenly the genius realizes that I had just called him by his given name; he
jerks his head back slightly completely confused. "How'd you know my name?"
"I know all pond-scum who carry drugs." I say slapping his face not so lightly with
the bag of little white pills.
"Shit man, that hurt!" Red says as he again struggles to escape my grasp. What a
pansy! This kid wouldn't last a week in basic training. Hey! That's an idea..
"What are these?" I ask keeping my voice completely devoid of emotion. It's a little
scary how quickly I can return to being the bad-ass O'Neill of a couple of years ago.
I've always been a pretty good Officer, but after Charlie…
Let's just say I wasn't a very nice guy after my son died.
Red looks at the pilfered baggie and shrugs. "Never saw it before." He says trying
to look nonchalant as he gives me a lazy smile. I swear to god, if I weren't an
Officer I'd wipe that smug look off his face in two seconds flat.
"Right." I say tightly. "So you wouldn't mind if I were to take these to a lab and
say, test them for barbiturates or amphetamines?"
"Fuck man, you a cop?" He still doesn't look as scared as I would have liked, but he
is beginning to look wary.
"You should be so lucky." I say pocketing his stash. I step even closer towards him
so that I'm now towering over his slight 5'8 frame. Geeze, even Carter is bigger than
this punk. I smile slightly at the image of Carter beating the crap out of this kid.
Apparently Red here has taken my smirk for something else.
"You're not going to rape me, are you?" He asks as his voice betraying his emotions
as the kid finally shows a decent amount of fear. His eyes begin to dart wildly
around the room as he frantically searches for a way out.
"No, I'm mot going to rape you!" Jesus Christ, *this* from the guy who was
planning on using a date rape drug on a girl? I grab a firm hold of Red's jacket and
shove him none too gently against the wall.
"Tell me what's in the bag." I say very slowly as I glower at him with what I know
are very cold eyes.
"They're just some happy pills, man." Red says dejectedly. Now that he knows his
ass is safe, he's back to being just surly.
"Happy pills?" I repeat.
"Yeah, you know- just something to help you relax a little."
"To help you relax, or to help a girl relax?" Suddenly the kid gets it. He takes in my
hard set eyes and Do Not Joke with me demeanor. He knows why I'm here.
"Fuck!" He gasps as he struggles again to get out of my grasp. "You're Kira's Dad!"
Nothing strikes fear in the hearts of young men, than the possibility of being found
out by her old man.
Not even attempting to set the kid straight, I continue. "So you admit to these being
'reefers' and that you had planned to drop a couple of these into Kira's drink."
"I only have the drugs man, Rick's the one who's planning on using them." And he
turns over on a dime. Nice to know these two are such close friends.
Behind me I hear the door open and quickly I lean forward and wedge my knee
forcibly against the kid's scrotum. He makes one wrong move and he'll be singing
soprano for a week. Judging from his wide-eyed look, he knows I'd most definitely
do it.
"Plumbing's backed up." I say conversationally over my shoulder as my grip tightens
on Jarod's shoulder. I mouth the words, 'Do Not Speak' and the kid nods his head
rapidly up and down in understanding. I hear the door open and close again and
focus my attention back to Red.
"Here's what I need you to do for me Jarod," I begin as I ease my knee back from
between his legs. Jarod looks at me unhappily and I see resignation behind those
light blue eyes of his.
And then I see his eyes flare back to life with hope. Hope?
Crap! I realize what's going to happen just microseconds before it does. I can't
*believe* I was so stupid. I whirl around to face what I know must be Curly.
The good news is that I stopped the knife from stabbing me in the back. The bad
news is that I couldn't prevent it from stabbing me in the front.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Note from author: See how nice I am? Wouldn't this have been a wonderful place
to put a cliffhanger? But I didn't. 'Cause I'm nice. That and the If You Don't Finish
Soon I'll Kill You notices were starting to mount up.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
"God Dammit!" I roar as instinct takes over and adrenaline floods my senses. I
quickly knock the knife out of his hand and in a move that would have made Teal'c
proud, lay the kid flat on his back in less than three seconds. I resist the urge to
beat his face to a pulp.
Barely.
I can't believe I let this sorry son of a bitch stab me!
~~~~~~~~
SAM'S POV
~~~~~~~~
"Colonel!" I shout into my headset. "Sir, talk to me! Tell me what's happening in
there!" All I hear is muttered cursing and the sound of something, or rather
someone, being knocked to the ground.
Obviously the Colonel has other problems on his mind. I think this is only the
second time I have seriously regretted being a female officer with the SGC. There is
just no way I can casually walk into the men's restroom and see what's going on.
Besides the obvious gender issue, I know I'm a little scary looking at the moment
and would stick out like a sore thumb the second I step inside.
"Daniel!" I call into the headset. "Daniel, the Colonel needs a little backup in there!"
Although Daniel was not on the right frequency to hear the Colonel's little chat with
Jarod, he clues in on my tone of voice instantly.
"Kira, we'll talk again soon." He says quickly. "Have a great birthday and don't
forget to take a cab home!" He calls out as I hear him rapidly walking away.
"He still in the bathroom, Sam?" Daniel asks softly under his breath.
"Yeah." I reply. "Daniel, he's not alone in there."
"Gotcha."
Several seconds pass as I listen to conversation fragments as Daniel makes his way
across the bar. Suddenly he stops up short and I hear someone curse at him as
Daniel obviously bumps into someone.
"Whoa!" Daniel says.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"Head's up Sam, Red just ran right past me and is on his way out the door as we
speak." I glance up from my console of electronic equipment, and sure enough,
there he was exiting O'Malley's front door.
"You get the Colonel." I say into Daniel's ear. "I've got Jarod." With that I pull off
my headset and open the van door just as Jarod comes stumbling down O'Malley's
front steps and straight into me. It's funny how readily I now call this kid Jarod.
Pseudonyms are great for ephemeral individuals, but once we see them face-to-face,
calling him anything but his real name just seems stupid.
"Going someplace?" I say trying to sound casual as I block his only effective escape
route. Behind me is a line of taxis waiting to take drunken partiers home and all
around me are parked cars.
"Jesus!" He says as he looks up and catches sight of my face. "What the fuck
happened to you?" Apparently I'm scary looking enough to make him forget his wild
run from the bar.
"Inability to communicate." I say casually shrugging. Jarod looks at me like I'm
crazy and tries to push me aside. I stand firmly in his way and only flinch slightly as
he shoves hard against my ribs as he attempts to get past me on the left. Hopefully
he didn't hear my small grunt of pain. I grit my teeth tightly and slowly exhale.
Christ that hurt!
"Get out of my way lady!" He shouts clearly frustrated.
"What's your hurry?" I ask. I really hope this guy just stands down. Daniel didn't
think we should bring our weapons and surprisingly the Colonel agreed. Still, what I
wouldn't give for a nice trusty Beretta at my side.
Jarod again looks around the darkened, nearly empty parking lot. The few taxi
drivers visible all seem to have their heads down as they either read newspapers or
attempt to catch a little sleep. In the dim moonlight, I see him pause and slowly
turn back towards me. He stares at me coldly.
"Get out of my way, Bitch." He ducks his head down like a quarterback and
attempts to zigzag past me. Silently I apologize to Janet and bring my casted right
arm firmly down against the top of his head.
~~~~~~~~~~
DANIEL'S POV
~~~~~~~~~~
I can feel Kira's eyes on my back as I slowly open the bathroom door. Jack is sitting
against the back wall of one of the stalls muttering to himself as he unbuckles his
belt and pulls it out of the loops. The unmoving form of what can only be 'Curly' lay
sprawled a few feet to Jack's left. In the center of the bathroom a bloody knife
stands out starkly against the gleaming white floors.
This can't be good.
"Jack?" I call out softly as I take a step towards my friend. I have learned the hard
way that it is never a good idea to sneak up on one Colonel Jack O'Neill.
"Huh?" Jack says awkwardly twisting around to look at me. "Daniel?"
"You were expecting someone else?" I reply lightly as I walk the remaining distance
and kneel between Jack and Curly. I can now see that Jack is bleeding from a gash
just above his waist band and am more than a little worried about the young man
lying face down off to my left. My hand is surprisingly steady as I reach out and
place two fingers against Curly's neck. I let out an audible sigh of relief as I find a
strong steady pulse.
"I'm the one injured here Daniel!" Jack gripes as he hands me his belt and motions
for me to bind Curly's hands.
"No offense Jack, but seeing as you're Special Ops and all that, I was a little worried
you might have killed the guy." I say as I wrap the leather belt several times around
Curly's hands and then buckle it together.
"For crying out loud Daniel, I do know the difference between a combat situation and
a bar fight!"
"I know you do Jack." I say turning around to face my friend. "But I could see at a
glance that you would probably live, and the guy lying unconscious on the ground
was an unknown. See, a friend of mine has been trying to drill it into my head that I
need to secure the area and make sure all non-coms are accounted for and safe
before taking care of myself and my team."
Jack grumbles as he eases himself onto his knees. "I did say something about the
importance of protecting teammates if they're injured."
I help Jack stand and wince slightly as I catch sight of the not so insignificant tear in
his leather jacket.
"I believe you said, 'If one of us is downed with a staff blast, make sure we're out of
the line of fire and concentrate on the enemy or retreating to a safe location.'" Jack
was about to interrupt when I continued, "AND when I said something about needing
to make sure the injured person was ok and giving medical aid, YOU replied that
medical attention can wait until the enemy had been neutralized or a more secure
location found."
"You actually LISTENED to me?" Jack asks incredulously as I pull his jacket apart
and ease his t-shirt out of his pants. I lift up the disconcertingly damp material to
get a better look at his knife wound.
"I listen to you Jack." I say as I eye the three inch jagged tear across his abdomen.
"I might not always agree with you, but I do listen." I automatically reach down for
my trusty bandana only to realize that I'm not wearing my BDUs.
"I don't think I'm in danger of bleeding to death Daniel." Jack says sardonically as
he raises his eyebrows slightly at our predicament. The lower half of his t-shirt is
saturated in dark blood and although he is right in the fact that he probably won't
bleed to death, we still should do something to stem the flow.
"Even so Jack, we probably should stop the bleeding first before you walk out the
door and scare the hell out of all the patrons."
"Point taken." Jack says nodding as he looks around the room. We both note the
roll of paper towels above the sink but prior experience has taught me that those
sheets aren't particularly absorbent. I look down at my own jeans and t-shirt and
curse the fact that I didn't bring in a jacket of my own. Well actually I did, but it's
currently lying on a barstool somewhere.
"Jack, I know it's cold out. And I know the whole loss of blood thing is going to
make you colder, but you need to lose the jacket." I'm already pulling my own skin-
warmed t-shirt over my head.
"Daniel," Jack says clearly confused as to why I'm suddenly shirtless in a cold bar
bathroom. " I know you are proud of your newly formed pectorals, but I have a set
of my own and since mine are more impressive, you really should put your shirt back
on."
"Jack, quit being an ass." I say shivering slightly as I help him ease his arms out of
his sleeves.
"You realize if Kira were to walk in right now, she'd probably faint at the sight of one
shirtless Jackson."
I refuse to blush. "Gimme your jacket Jack." I say tiredly as I pull his jacket away
from his body with one hand and press my mostly clean t-shirt firmly against Jack's
knife wound with the other.
"Ow!" Jack hisses as he glares at me.
"Sorry." I say apologetically. "You got this?" I ask as I ease back on the pressure
I'm applying.
"Yeah." Jack says as places his bloody right hand over my own. Ew. Thanks Jack.
I pull my hand away and quickly rinse it off in the sink before pulling on Jack's
jacket. I try not to think about the cool breeze I feel through the jagged tear or the
tacky slickness of Jack's rapidly cooling blood against my bare stomach.
I am about to ask Jack if he's ready to leave when we both hear Sam's voice in our
ears.
"Colonel?" Sam says sounding slightly breathless. "You all right?"
"Just Peachy Captain." Jack says giving me a look.
"Sam, Jack's been stabbed." I add receiving yet another patented Jack O'Neill glare.
"Sir!" Sam says clearly concerned.
"I'm fine Carter- just nicked." Jack says shaking his head slightly as if daring me to
contradict him.
Fine Jack! Have it your way. "Sam, what about the other kid?" I ask as I glance
down at Jack's assailant.
Neither Jack nor I miss the long pause before Sam replies. "He won't be bothering
anyone else this evening."
"Captain..?" Jack asks clearly curious as to what Sam is talking about. Before Sam
can explain any more, we both hear the telltale sound of fire sirens in the distance.
"Sir, Daniel," Sam says hurriedly as the noise of the sirens draw closer. "I realized
neither of you were going to walk out of that bar unnoticed, so I called in a little
backup."
"Carter, what the hell are you talking about?" Jack asks. At that moment the loud
shrill of an emergency fire alarm is heard throughout the building.
"I called the bar and chatted with John, the bartender guy who offered to help us
out. He was the one who thought tonight might be an excellent evening for a little
live action fire drill. He then called a friend over at Local 17 and the rest Sir, is
history." Sam shouts over the din of the alarm. Outside we can hear scared voices
and knocked down chairs as everyone rushes to find an exit.
"The fire fighters are cordoning everyone to the left of the building Sir." Sam yells.
You and Daniel as free to exit through the kitchen and walk around the back towards
the van."
"Sweet." Jack mutters. "You did good Captain!" Jack shouts as he motions for me
to grab the unconscious Curly. I'm not exactly enthusiastic as I bend down to hoist
the unresponsive man over my shoulder. Unlike his friend, this kid was fully-grown
and probably weighed as much as me. I had just finished hauling him semi-upright
and was preparing to throw him over my shoulder when he begins to stir.
"Who the fuck are you?" He asks belligerently as he grimaces painfully and rubs his
head.
Before I can say anything Jack turns around. "Remember me?" Jack shouts as he
gives the younger man an absolutely scathing look. Curly stays silent and glares
back at both of us. He hasn't failed to notice that his wrists are bound.
"Move!" Jack orders as he opens the door and watches as the last of the patrons
exit through the front door. He looks back and gives me a small nod as he takes
point and walks out the door. I gently push Curly out ahead of me. I have not
forgotten that this is the guy who wanted to rape Kira, but at the moment he is
incapacitated and not in a position to make trouble. I'm just not vindictive enough
to kick a dying horse. Thank god.
~~~~~~~~
JACK'S POV
~~~~~~~~
Well this didn't exactly go down like I imagined, but any mission you can walk away
from is a good mission. Or something like that. I open the final door to the outside
and pause a moment as a wave of dizziness hits me. I steady myself by using the
railing to my left and shoot Daniel what I hope is an encouraging look.
It isn't like I'm really all that injured. In the grand O'Neill scheme of things, this little
scrape barely registers. Still, getting stabbed in the gut isn't exactly on my list of
ton ten things to do during downtime. I ease the pressure off of my belly and am
thankful the bleeding has mostly stopped. I grunt slightly as I again apply pressure
and take a moment to look down at the multitudes of bar patrons, fire fighters and of
course the curious locals.
It IS a mess. There must be at least three fire engines parked in the main lot, and
scores of nervous people are standing on the sidelines looking worried and anxious.
Fire drills are major buzz killers.
"Hey!" I hear Daniel shout as I turn around and catch Curly trying to make a break
for it by leaping over the stairs. Daniel quickly follows suit and I'm rather pleased to
watch as Daniel catches up with the kid and grabs him none too gently by his jacket
collar and knocks him down on his ass. The kid stands back up and glares at Daniel
but doesn't try to run away again.
"Carter!" I shout into my radio. "It's a little nuts out here. Can you give us a sign
as to where you are?" And Carter, bless her heart, does just that. A faint beam of
light suddenly appears not too far from us on our right. It moves in a tight curve in
our general direction and then is turned off.
"Gotcha. Stay put Captain, we're on our way."
I carefully maneuver myself down the stairs and after making certain Daniel has
everything under control with Curly, walk the short distance to our ever so clichéd
white van.
"Hey Carter." I say casually as I walk up to where she is chatting with John the
bartender. Off to the right I see a rather surly looking Red handcuffed to a bike
rack. He's holding a bag of ice to his head.
"Sir!" She says turning around to face me. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes in
my short sleeved attire and the way I'm holding what is obviously Daniel's t-shirt
against my middle.
"First things first Captain." I say sounding all military in front of our guests.
"Report."
"Yes Sir." Carter says nodding. Carter is a damn fine 2IC. She can read me better
than just about anyone and unlike Daniel, actually follows nearly all of my orders.
With her left arm, she throws Daniel an extra pair of handcuffs and motions for him
to lock Curly up next to Red. Daniel happily complies.
"The firefighters are finishing up with their drill and are encouraging all the bar
patrons to call it a night and head on home." She grins as she looks at Daniel. "I
think Kira has definitely had a birthday she'll remember Daniel!" Daniel blushes and
looks over at John.
"I suppose you saw the whole thing huh?" Daniel says addressing John.
"Oh yeah!" John says with a big grin. "I think over half the bar saw your Don Juan
impression my young friend."
"Great." Daniel says clearly not happy with the notoriety.
"Ah, don't be too hard on yourself kid." John says giving Daniel a gently cuff on his
shoulder. "You prevented your friend from being drugged, right?"
Daniel stands a little taller. "Yeah, I did."
"So what are we going to do with them Jack?" Daniel asks pointing in the direction
of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.
"Well, Carter and I got Red's confession on tape and I have the little happy pills in
my pocket so it's pretty much a done deal that these two are going to jail." I say
looking pointedly at the two idiots arguing with one another.
"AND," John adds cheerfully. "I had Delores use a fresh sponge and bag what she
cleaned up that spilled drink of your girlfriend's."
"She's not my girlfriend." Daniel says hotly.
"Your friend who happens to be a girl." John amends holding up two hands to ward
off Daniel's wrath. "Which means, it really is an open and shut case against them."
I am very happy to see the would-be rapists suddenly freeze in mid argument as the
realization that they really could be going to jail sinks in.
I turn to the pair. "Actually, I have a little proposition for you two." I say slyly as I
walk the dozen or so steps to where they are leaning against the bike stand. "You
can go to jail where I'm certain two young strapping youths such as yourselves will
be very popular for the 3-5 years you remain in prison." I pause to let that little
image work its way into their psyches. "OR you can spend just one night in a
holding cell and allow yourselves to be escorted to the local army recruiting center.
From there you will have a 24 hour escort until you are firmly ensconced in the
vigorous fun that I like to call Basic Training."
"You're telling us we have to join the military?!" Red asks in amazement.
"Oh no!" I say holding up my slightly bloody left hand in assurance. "You have a
CHOICE of joining the military. You don't HAVE to join. You can CHOOSE to go to
jail and become play toys to lovely men called Bubbah or Leroy. Your choice." I
then walk away to give them some time to think about that. I know what they'll
choose.
"I like how you think my friend." John says giving me a grin and a small nod. He
then spies my, or rather Daniel's bloody t-shirt and frowns. "You need some medical
attention?"
I waive him away with my free hand. "Nahh, I'll be fine. Thanks for all your help
John." I say sincerely. I start to hold out my left hand and then stop. It's one thing
for me to bleed all over Daniel; it's something completely different to do so over a
virtual stranger.
"You take care Colonel." John says giving me a final nod as he walks off towards the
firefighters.
"Colonel," Carter says lightly touching my elbow and leading me back in the direction
of the van. "Why don't you have a seat here and let me take a look at that."
"It's just a scratch Captain." I grumble more for show than anything else. I know I
need to have it looked at; I just don't want anyone else to think I need to have it
looked at. I sit where Carter asks me to sit and allow her to remove both Daniel's
thoroughly ruined t-shirt bandage and my own blood-drenched undershirt. For such
a little wound, it sure did bleed a lot.
"A little more than a scratch Colonel." Carter chastises as she tuts over the jagged
tear in my flesh, cleaning it with that horribly stinging peroxide and then applying
butterfly bandages across three separate points.
"Janet may want to stitch this Sir." Sam says apologetically as she fastens the last
bandage in place and then wraps my abdomen three times with an ace bandage to
hold everything in place.
"Déjà vu." I say smiling. It couldn't have been more than 24 hours ago when I was
doing the exact same thing to Sam. Speaking of which..
"How are you doing Carter?"
"I'm fine Sir." Sam says a little too quickly.
"uh huh." I reply clearly not buying it. Carter then excuses herself and pops into
the van for a moment. She returns holding a clean t-shirt and three Tylenol.
"It's Daniel's." She explains. That's right! Daniel was going to crash at my place
after we dropped Sam back off at the SGC. Daniel might not like it when I get all
father-figure on him and insist that he come and stay with me after a particularly
nasty mission, but he still would rather sleep in my guest bed than the SGC any day
of the week.
I'm awfully glad about that.
"Sam!" Daniel says in a shocked voice as he rounds the corner from where he was
talking with Red and Curly. "I can't believe you did that!" Did what? Daniel stares
and Carter and Carter stares right back at Daniel. I say again; did what?
"Kids?" I say slowly as I down the Tylenol with cold coffee. Blech.
"Sam knocked Red unconscious with her cast!" Daniel says flailing his arms around,
clearly shocked beyond words that she would do such a thing.
"Come on Daniel, it's not a big deal." Carter says clearly embarrassed. Inside I'm
grinning like an idiot. Carter, brained the guy with her casted arm? Way to go Sam!
"Not a big deal! Sam you could have seriously hurt yourself!" Daniel says in a huff
as he carefully grabs hold of her injured right arm and gently rotates it first to the
right and then to the left.
"Aha!" He says as stops his movements and points to a spot on her arm. "It's
cracked!"
"Carter?" I say as I gingerly stand up and make my way over to where she and
Daniel are standing.
"It's just a little crack Sir." Carter says in explanation. "I'm sure it's not anything
serious." She turns back towards me. "Sir would you please put your shirt on! It's
bad enough we have Daniel here looking like a Playgirl Pinup dressed in leather, we
don't need young co-eds falling for you as well!" I'm going to blame that little
outburst on Carter's meds. Daniel's blushing 6 ways to Saturday and I'm suddenly
feeling very cold.
And more than a little naked.
*************************************
"So Jack," Daniel says as I pull on my (or rather his) t-shirt. Doc Fraiser was
allowing me to go home tonight, but only if Daniel drove and only after I had
promised to return tomorrow for a follow up. I had indeed needed a couple stitches
(all right- 6) but Doc was more worried about how dirty the knife (and Daniel's t-
shirt) might have been and wanted to put me on some antibiotics to counter any
potential wiggly things that might want to harm me. When *don't* wiggly things
want to harm me?!
Fraiser was more pissed at me for letting Carter mess up her pretty cast. Sam had
to have the whole thing redone and only after several new x-rays and some rather
angry-sounding words directed at both me and Carter. I was actually quite happy to
have Nurse Hendrikson put in my stitches; Janet was in a mean mood.
Red and Curly had been picked up by Colorado Spring's finest at around 11 and I
was quite happy to use my rank and status to expedite the whole process. Carter,
Daniel and I only gave the briefest of statements before the pair had been hauled
away. I'd work with Army recruitment tomorrow to get them into the next basic
session. One officer noted that I was Air Force and asked why I wasn't going to
enlist the pair into my own branch of the military. I had just looked at him as if he
was nuts; I don't want them anywhere NEAR my branch thank you very much!
And Kira? Well, that last I saw, her friends were helping her into a cab. She kept
looking around the parking lot obviously looking for someone. And I'll bet you dollars
to donuts I know who.
"Yes, Daniel?" I say in my patient Colonel voice.
"I've been thinking…" I resist rolling my eyes. Daniel, you're always thinking.
"About?"
"Something John said." Daniel replied as he helped me lace up my boots. It's
funny; we don't even give this lacing of boots thing a second thought. Between
Carter, Daniel and myself, we've had 7 dislocated shoulders, 13 bruised or broken
ribs, a dozen sprains and 3 staff blasts too many. Which means, all of us are quite
comfortable having help lacing up our boots. If you're going to be macho about the
pain and discomfort, you've got to pick your situations. Lacing up your boots is just
not one of them.
"John the bartender?"
"Yeah."
"He said something to me right before after he figured out who I was."
"It's been a long night Daniel," I reply as we leave the infirmary and walk down the
nearly silent corridor. "I'm going to need a little something more to go on."
"He called me harmless." Daniel says as we reached the elevator.
"Harmless huh?"
"Jack, I'm serious!" Daniel says clearly upset. "I've been on SG-1 nearly 2 years
now and have seen things and done things most people can't even imagine! How is
it that a complete stranger can call me harmless?!"
The elevator arrives and we step in. We ride in silence through several levels before
I speak.
"Daniel, you said it yourself; you've seen things and done things the rest of the
world probably can't even fathom. Hell, you've died probably more times than any
human on this planet and you're still here! You've kicked Goa'uld ass and SAVED the
frickin' world for crying out loud- why should you care what some guy in a bar thinks
about you?"
Several more floors zipped by while Daniel pondered my latest outburst.
"You're right Jack." Daniel said eventually as he shoved his hands in his pockets and
sighed. "I'm not harmless."
"That's right." I agree as the elevator doors open and we step outside into the cool
night air. "Harmless is just not a word I'd use to describe you Daniel." Anyone who
had ever judged Dr. Daniel to be just 'harmless' usually changed his mind pretty
damn quick.
Daniel opens up the passenger door for me and I ease myself into the front seat.
Daniel gets into the drivers seat and starts the engine. While waiting for car
windows to defrost I suddenly remember something.
"Daniel did you ever read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?"
"The Douglas Adams book?"
"Yeah."
"A long time ago, but yeah, I think I did. He's the guy who wrote about how you
should always bring a towel with you when you roam the galaxy, right?"
"Right." Obviously Mr. Adams had never met a Goa'uld, otherwise, he would have
insisted on a zat.
"Remember what the definition of Earth was?" I ask. Daniel suddenly smiles. A
large carefree smile that I don't think I've seen in months.
"Harmless!" He exclaims grinning from ear to ear.
"And so Dr. Daniel Jackson, Linguist, Archaeologist and general pain in the ass to all
things snakey, I say to you this…" Daniel is about to put the truck into drive but
stops for a moment and looks expectantly as me. Of course he knows what I'm
going to say, but I have to say it regardless.
"You're not 'harmless' Daniel."
"I'm not." Daniel agrees with a smile.
"You're mostly harmless." I can't help but grin at him as I reach a hand over and
affectionately tousle his hair as he puts the truck into drive and heads out of the
base.
"Mostly harmless Spacemonkey, mostly harmless."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finished July 6, 2003
*Does happy dance* Well? Was it worth the wait? Have all your expectations been
met? Considering the fact that I never DID get my little Barista holiday, I'm officially
taking one now. Season 3 Barista stories will commence the first week of August.
In the meantime, I will try to find time to work (dare I say finish??) Imbroglio and
maybe look into something completely new. Thank you all for your words of
encouragement and a HUGE thank you to Kath my beta-goddess extraordinaire.
PART 7
~~~~~~~~
JACK'S POV
~~~~~~~~
Daniel you dog!
I can't believe what I'm seeing here. Daniel is not only doing a damn good
impression of a Casanova, but that dip move of his is sweet! If I ever find myself
having a semblance of a social life again, I am *so* going to remember that move.
Poor Kira. The kid looks completely shell shocked. Daniel is never going to hear the
end of it. At least not from me! I can't help but grin a little as I watch as Daniel
carefully releases one completely dazed Barista. Danny, you did good.
Now it's time to clean house. Or at least kick a little collegeic ass.
I put on my scariest Colonel face and cautiously open the bathroom door. The punks
might be barely out of their teens, but that doesn't mean they can't cause some
damage. I'm heading into this unarmed; a crowded bar in no place for a loaded
weapon. I know it's the right call, but I feel a little naked without my trusty P-90 or
at least a handgun. A zat would be perfect, but that wasn't exactly an option here…
Red is standing against the back wall doing looking absolutely nothing like James
Dean as he lights up a cigarette. I let out a small snort of disgust as I look at the No
Smoking sign directly above his head.
"So I take it reading isn't a prerequisite for college huh?" I say conversationally as I
take several steps towards him.
"Huh?" Red says looking up.
"No Smoking." I say pointing to the sign.
"Go away Old Man." Red says with all the glorious bravado of youth. God, kids are
stupid.
I take another couple of steps towards him and shake my head. "It says No
Smoking." Before Red can even so much as blink, I grab hold of the cigarette and
flick it into the sink on my right.
Red stares at me as if I've grown a second head. Actually, it's a little like how we
looked at Daniel when he came back from that alternate reality and we were all
pretty certain he was nuts.
"What is your PROBLEM dude?" Dude?
"My problem," I say as I take the final step into his personal space and shove him
hard against the wall. "Is that a son of a bitch and I'm really not allowed to kill you."
Red's bravado slips several notches with that statement and I can see some definite
fear in his eyes.
Good.
"What the hell do you want with me, man?" He says struggling to escape my grip.
"I want so many things from you JAROD." I say as I reach into his jacket pocket.
"Beating the crap out of you is definitely on the top of my list." I feel the thin plastic
bag beneath my fingers and pull it out. "But barring that, I'll just see what you have
here."
"You're robbing me?!" Red says incredulously. I just shake my head. Nope. Guess
again. Suddenly the genius realizes that I had just called him by his given name; he
jerks his head back slightly completely confused. "How'd you know my name?"
"I know all pond-scum who carry drugs." I say slapping his face not so lightly with
the bag of little white pills.
"Shit man, that hurt!" Red says as he again struggles to escape my grasp. What a
pansy! This kid wouldn't last a week in basic training. Hey! That's an idea..
"What are these?" I ask keeping my voice completely devoid of emotion. It's a little
scary how quickly I can return to being the bad-ass O'Neill of a couple of years ago.
I've always been a pretty good Officer, but after Charlie…
Let's just say I wasn't a very nice guy after my son died.
Red looks at the pilfered baggie and shrugs. "Never saw it before." He says trying
to look nonchalant as he gives me a lazy smile. I swear to god, if I weren't an
Officer I'd wipe that smug look off his face in two seconds flat.
"Right." I say tightly. "So you wouldn't mind if I were to take these to a lab and
say, test them for barbiturates or amphetamines?"
"Fuck man, you a cop?" He still doesn't look as scared as I would have liked, but he
is beginning to look wary.
"You should be so lucky." I say pocketing his stash. I step even closer towards him
so that I'm now towering over his slight 5'8 frame. Geeze, even Carter is bigger than
this punk. I smile slightly at the image of Carter beating the crap out of this kid.
Apparently Red here has taken my smirk for something else.
"You're not going to rape me, are you?" He asks as his voice betraying his emotions
as the kid finally shows a decent amount of fear. His eyes begin to dart wildly
around the room as he frantically searches for a way out.
"No, I'm mot going to rape you!" Jesus Christ, *this* from the guy who was
planning on using a date rape drug on a girl? I grab a firm hold of Red's jacket and
shove him none too gently against the wall.
"Tell me what's in the bag." I say very slowly as I glower at him with what I know
are very cold eyes.
"They're just some happy pills, man." Red says dejectedly. Now that he knows his
ass is safe, he's back to being just surly.
"Happy pills?" I repeat.
"Yeah, you know- just something to help you relax a little."
"To help you relax, or to help a girl relax?" Suddenly the kid gets it. He takes in my
hard set eyes and Do Not Joke with me demeanor. He knows why I'm here.
"Fuck!" He gasps as he struggles again to get out of my grasp. "You're Kira's Dad!"
Nothing strikes fear in the hearts of young men, than the possibility of being found
out by her old man.
Not even attempting to set the kid straight, I continue. "So you admit to these being
'reefers' and that you had planned to drop a couple of these into Kira's drink."
"I only have the drugs man, Rick's the one who's planning on using them." And he
turns over on a dime. Nice to know these two are such close friends.
Behind me I hear the door open and quickly I lean forward and wedge my knee
forcibly against the kid's scrotum. He makes one wrong move and he'll be singing
soprano for a week. Judging from his wide-eyed look, he knows I'd most definitely
do it.
"Plumbing's backed up." I say conversationally over my shoulder as my grip tightens
on Jarod's shoulder. I mouth the words, 'Do Not Speak' and the kid nods his head
rapidly up and down in understanding. I hear the door open and close again and
focus my attention back to Red.
"Here's what I need you to do for me Jarod," I begin as I ease my knee back from
between his legs. Jarod looks at me unhappily and I see resignation behind those
light blue eyes of his.
And then I see his eyes flare back to life with hope. Hope?
Crap! I realize what's going to happen just microseconds before it does. I can't
*believe* I was so stupid. I whirl around to face what I know must be Curly.
The good news is that I stopped the knife from stabbing me in the back. The bad
news is that I couldn't prevent it from stabbing me in the front.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Note from author: See how nice I am? Wouldn't this have been a wonderful place
to put a cliffhanger? But I didn't. 'Cause I'm nice. That and the If You Don't Finish
Soon I'll Kill You notices were starting to mount up.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
"God Dammit!" I roar as instinct takes over and adrenaline floods my senses. I
quickly knock the knife out of his hand and in a move that would have made Teal'c
proud, lay the kid flat on his back in less than three seconds. I resist the urge to
beat his face to a pulp.
Barely.
I can't believe I let this sorry son of a bitch stab me!
~~~~~~~~
SAM'S POV
~~~~~~~~
"Colonel!" I shout into my headset. "Sir, talk to me! Tell me what's happening in
there!" All I hear is muttered cursing and the sound of something, or rather
someone, being knocked to the ground.
Obviously the Colonel has other problems on his mind. I think this is only the
second time I have seriously regretted being a female officer with the SGC. There is
just no way I can casually walk into the men's restroom and see what's going on.
Besides the obvious gender issue, I know I'm a little scary looking at the moment
and would stick out like a sore thumb the second I step inside.
"Daniel!" I call into the headset. "Daniel, the Colonel needs a little backup in there!"
Although Daniel was not on the right frequency to hear the Colonel's little chat with
Jarod, he clues in on my tone of voice instantly.
"Kira, we'll talk again soon." He says quickly. "Have a great birthday and don't
forget to take a cab home!" He calls out as I hear him rapidly walking away.
"He still in the bathroom, Sam?" Daniel asks softly under his breath.
"Yeah." I reply. "Daniel, he's not alone in there."
"Gotcha."
Several seconds pass as I listen to conversation fragments as Daniel makes his way
across the bar. Suddenly he stops up short and I hear someone curse at him as
Daniel obviously bumps into someone.
"Whoa!" Daniel says.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"Head's up Sam, Red just ran right past me and is on his way out the door as we
speak." I glance up from my console of electronic equipment, and sure enough,
there he was exiting O'Malley's front door.
"You get the Colonel." I say into Daniel's ear. "I've got Jarod." With that I pull off
my headset and open the van door just as Jarod comes stumbling down O'Malley's
front steps and straight into me. It's funny how readily I now call this kid Jarod.
Pseudonyms are great for ephemeral individuals, but once we see them face-to-face,
calling him anything but his real name just seems stupid.
"Going someplace?" I say trying to sound casual as I block his only effective escape
route. Behind me is a line of taxis waiting to take drunken partiers home and all
around me are parked cars.
"Jesus!" He says as he looks up and catches sight of my face. "What the fuck
happened to you?" Apparently I'm scary looking enough to make him forget his wild
run from the bar.
"Inability to communicate." I say casually shrugging. Jarod looks at me like I'm
crazy and tries to push me aside. I stand firmly in his way and only flinch slightly as
he shoves hard against my ribs as he attempts to get past me on the left. Hopefully
he didn't hear my small grunt of pain. I grit my teeth tightly and slowly exhale.
Christ that hurt!
"Get out of my way lady!" He shouts clearly frustrated.
"What's your hurry?" I ask. I really hope this guy just stands down. Daniel didn't
think we should bring our weapons and surprisingly the Colonel agreed. Still, what I
wouldn't give for a nice trusty Beretta at my side.
Jarod again looks around the darkened, nearly empty parking lot. The few taxi
drivers visible all seem to have their heads down as they either read newspapers or
attempt to catch a little sleep. In the dim moonlight, I see him pause and slowly
turn back towards me. He stares at me coldly.
"Get out of my way, Bitch." He ducks his head down like a quarterback and
attempts to zigzag past me. Silently I apologize to Janet and bring my casted right
arm firmly down against the top of his head.
~~~~~~~~~~
DANIEL'S POV
~~~~~~~~~~
I can feel Kira's eyes on my back as I slowly open the bathroom door. Jack is sitting
against the back wall of one of the stalls muttering to himself as he unbuckles his
belt and pulls it out of the loops. The unmoving form of what can only be 'Curly' lay
sprawled a few feet to Jack's left. In the center of the bathroom a bloody knife
stands out starkly against the gleaming white floors.
This can't be good.
"Jack?" I call out softly as I take a step towards my friend. I have learned the hard
way that it is never a good idea to sneak up on one Colonel Jack O'Neill.
"Huh?" Jack says awkwardly twisting around to look at me. "Daniel?"
"You were expecting someone else?" I reply lightly as I walk the remaining distance
and kneel between Jack and Curly. I can now see that Jack is bleeding from a gash
just above his waist band and am more than a little worried about the young man
lying face down off to my left. My hand is surprisingly steady as I reach out and
place two fingers against Curly's neck. I let out an audible sigh of relief as I find a
strong steady pulse.
"I'm the one injured here Daniel!" Jack gripes as he hands me his belt and motions
for me to bind Curly's hands.
"No offense Jack, but seeing as you're Special Ops and all that, I was a little worried
you might have killed the guy." I say as I wrap the leather belt several times around
Curly's hands and then buckle it together.
"For crying out loud Daniel, I do know the difference between a combat situation and
a bar fight!"
"I know you do Jack." I say turning around to face my friend. "But I could see at a
glance that you would probably live, and the guy lying unconscious on the ground
was an unknown. See, a friend of mine has been trying to drill it into my head that I
need to secure the area and make sure all non-coms are accounted for and safe
before taking care of myself and my team."
Jack grumbles as he eases himself onto his knees. "I did say something about the
importance of protecting teammates if they're injured."
I help Jack stand and wince slightly as I catch sight of the not so insignificant tear in
his leather jacket.
"I believe you said, 'If one of us is downed with a staff blast, make sure we're out of
the line of fire and concentrate on the enemy or retreating to a safe location.'" Jack
was about to interrupt when I continued, "AND when I said something about needing
to make sure the injured person was ok and giving medical aid, YOU replied that
medical attention can wait until the enemy had been neutralized or a more secure
location found."
"You actually LISTENED to me?" Jack asks incredulously as I pull his jacket apart
and ease his t-shirt out of his pants. I lift up the disconcertingly damp material to
get a better look at his knife wound.
"I listen to you Jack." I say as I eye the three inch jagged tear across his abdomen.
"I might not always agree with you, but I do listen." I automatically reach down for
my trusty bandana only to realize that I'm not wearing my BDUs.
"I don't think I'm in danger of bleeding to death Daniel." Jack says sardonically as
he raises his eyebrows slightly at our predicament. The lower half of his t-shirt is
saturated in dark blood and although he is right in the fact that he probably won't
bleed to death, we still should do something to stem the flow.
"Even so Jack, we probably should stop the bleeding first before you walk out the
door and scare the hell out of all the patrons."
"Point taken." Jack says nodding as he looks around the room. We both note the
roll of paper towels above the sink but prior experience has taught me that those
sheets aren't particularly absorbent. I look down at my own jeans and t-shirt and
curse the fact that I didn't bring in a jacket of my own. Well actually I did, but it's
currently lying on a barstool somewhere.
"Jack, I know it's cold out. And I know the whole loss of blood thing is going to
make you colder, but you need to lose the jacket." I'm already pulling my own skin-
warmed t-shirt over my head.
"Daniel," Jack says clearly confused as to why I'm suddenly shirtless in a cold bar
bathroom. " I know you are proud of your newly formed pectorals, but I have a set
of my own and since mine are more impressive, you really should put your shirt back
on."
"Jack, quit being an ass." I say shivering slightly as I help him ease his arms out of
his sleeves.
"You realize if Kira were to walk in right now, she'd probably faint at the sight of one
shirtless Jackson."
I refuse to blush. "Gimme your jacket Jack." I say tiredly as I pull his jacket away
from his body with one hand and press my mostly clean t-shirt firmly against Jack's
knife wound with the other.
"Ow!" Jack hisses as he glares at me.
"Sorry." I say apologetically. "You got this?" I ask as I ease back on the pressure
I'm applying.
"Yeah." Jack says as places his bloody right hand over my own. Ew. Thanks Jack.
I pull my hand away and quickly rinse it off in the sink before pulling on Jack's
jacket. I try not to think about the cool breeze I feel through the jagged tear or the
tacky slickness of Jack's rapidly cooling blood against my bare stomach.
I am about to ask Jack if he's ready to leave when we both hear Sam's voice in our
ears.
"Colonel?" Sam says sounding slightly breathless. "You all right?"
"Just Peachy Captain." Jack says giving me a look.
"Sam, Jack's been stabbed." I add receiving yet another patented Jack O'Neill glare.
"Sir!" Sam says clearly concerned.
"I'm fine Carter- just nicked." Jack says shaking his head slightly as if daring me to
contradict him.
Fine Jack! Have it your way. "Sam, what about the other kid?" I ask as I glance
down at Jack's assailant.
Neither Jack nor I miss the long pause before Sam replies. "He won't be bothering
anyone else this evening."
"Captain..?" Jack asks clearly curious as to what Sam is talking about. Before Sam
can explain any more, we both hear the telltale sound of fire sirens in the distance.
"Sir, Daniel," Sam says hurriedly as the noise of the sirens draw closer. "I realized
neither of you were going to walk out of that bar unnoticed, so I called in a little
backup."
"Carter, what the hell are you talking about?" Jack asks. At that moment the loud
shrill of an emergency fire alarm is heard throughout the building.
"I called the bar and chatted with John, the bartender guy who offered to help us
out. He was the one who thought tonight might be an excellent evening for a little
live action fire drill. He then called a friend over at Local 17 and the rest Sir, is
history." Sam shouts over the din of the alarm. Outside we can hear scared voices
and knocked down chairs as everyone rushes to find an exit.
"The fire fighters are cordoning everyone to the left of the building Sir." Sam yells.
You and Daniel as free to exit through the kitchen and walk around the back towards
the van."
"Sweet." Jack mutters. "You did good Captain!" Jack shouts as he motions for me
to grab the unconscious Curly. I'm not exactly enthusiastic as I bend down to hoist
the unresponsive man over my shoulder. Unlike his friend, this kid was fully-grown
and probably weighed as much as me. I had just finished hauling him semi-upright
and was preparing to throw him over my shoulder when he begins to stir.
"Who the fuck are you?" He asks belligerently as he grimaces painfully and rubs his
head.
Before I can say anything Jack turns around. "Remember me?" Jack shouts as he
gives the younger man an absolutely scathing look. Curly stays silent and glares
back at both of us. He hasn't failed to notice that his wrists are bound.
"Move!" Jack orders as he opens the door and watches as the last of the patrons
exit through the front door. He looks back and gives me a small nod as he takes
point and walks out the door. I gently push Curly out ahead of me. I have not
forgotten that this is the guy who wanted to rape Kira, but at the moment he is
incapacitated and not in a position to make trouble. I'm just not vindictive enough
to kick a dying horse. Thank god.
~~~~~~~~
JACK'S POV
~~~~~~~~
Well this didn't exactly go down like I imagined, but any mission you can walk away
from is a good mission. Or something like that. I open the final door to the outside
and pause a moment as a wave of dizziness hits me. I steady myself by using the
railing to my left and shoot Daniel what I hope is an encouraging look.
It isn't like I'm really all that injured. In the grand O'Neill scheme of things, this little
scrape barely registers. Still, getting stabbed in the gut isn't exactly on my list of
ton ten things to do during downtime. I ease the pressure off of my belly and am
thankful the bleeding has mostly stopped. I grunt slightly as I again apply pressure
and take a moment to look down at the multitudes of bar patrons, fire fighters and of
course the curious locals.
It IS a mess. There must be at least three fire engines parked in the main lot, and
scores of nervous people are standing on the sidelines looking worried and anxious.
Fire drills are major buzz killers.
"Hey!" I hear Daniel shout as I turn around and catch Curly trying to make a break
for it by leaping over the stairs. Daniel quickly follows suit and I'm rather pleased to
watch as Daniel catches up with the kid and grabs him none too gently by his jacket
collar and knocks him down on his ass. The kid stands back up and glares at Daniel
but doesn't try to run away again.
"Carter!" I shout into my radio. "It's a little nuts out here. Can you give us a sign
as to where you are?" And Carter, bless her heart, does just that. A faint beam of
light suddenly appears not too far from us on our right. It moves in a tight curve in
our general direction and then is turned off.
"Gotcha. Stay put Captain, we're on our way."
I carefully maneuver myself down the stairs and after making certain Daniel has
everything under control with Curly, walk the short distance to our ever so clichéd
white van.
"Hey Carter." I say casually as I walk up to where she is chatting with John the
bartender. Off to the right I see a rather surly looking Red handcuffed to a bike
rack. He's holding a bag of ice to his head.
"Sir!" She says turning around to face me. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes in
my short sleeved attire and the way I'm holding what is obviously Daniel's t-shirt
against my middle.
"First things first Captain." I say sounding all military in front of our guests.
"Report."
"Yes Sir." Carter says nodding. Carter is a damn fine 2IC. She can read me better
than just about anyone and unlike Daniel, actually follows nearly all of my orders.
With her left arm, she throws Daniel an extra pair of handcuffs and motions for him
to lock Curly up next to Red. Daniel happily complies.
"The firefighters are finishing up with their drill and are encouraging all the bar
patrons to call it a night and head on home." She grins as she looks at Daniel. "I
think Kira has definitely had a birthday she'll remember Daniel!" Daniel blushes and
looks over at John.
"I suppose you saw the whole thing huh?" Daniel says addressing John.
"Oh yeah!" John says with a big grin. "I think over half the bar saw your Don Juan
impression my young friend."
"Great." Daniel says clearly not happy with the notoriety.
"Ah, don't be too hard on yourself kid." John says giving Daniel a gently cuff on his
shoulder. "You prevented your friend from being drugged, right?"
Daniel stands a little taller. "Yeah, I did."
"So what are we going to do with them Jack?" Daniel asks pointing in the direction
of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.
"Well, Carter and I got Red's confession on tape and I have the little happy pills in
my pocket so it's pretty much a done deal that these two are going to jail." I say
looking pointedly at the two idiots arguing with one another.
"AND," John adds cheerfully. "I had Delores use a fresh sponge and bag what she
cleaned up that spilled drink of your girlfriend's."
"She's not my girlfriend." Daniel says hotly.
"Your friend who happens to be a girl." John amends holding up two hands to ward
off Daniel's wrath. "Which means, it really is an open and shut case against them."
I am very happy to see the would-be rapists suddenly freeze in mid argument as the
realization that they really could be going to jail sinks in.
I turn to the pair. "Actually, I have a little proposition for you two." I say slyly as I
walk the dozen or so steps to where they are leaning against the bike stand. "You
can go to jail where I'm certain two young strapping youths such as yourselves will
be very popular for the 3-5 years you remain in prison." I pause to let that little
image work its way into their psyches. "OR you can spend just one night in a
holding cell and allow yourselves to be escorted to the local army recruiting center.
From there you will have a 24 hour escort until you are firmly ensconced in the
vigorous fun that I like to call Basic Training."
"You're telling us we have to join the military?!" Red asks in amazement.
"Oh no!" I say holding up my slightly bloody left hand in assurance. "You have a
CHOICE of joining the military. You don't HAVE to join. You can CHOOSE to go to
jail and become play toys to lovely men called Bubbah or Leroy. Your choice." I
then walk away to give them some time to think about that. I know what they'll
choose.
"I like how you think my friend." John says giving me a grin and a small nod. He
then spies my, or rather Daniel's bloody t-shirt and frowns. "You need some medical
attention?"
I waive him away with my free hand. "Nahh, I'll be fine. Thanks for all your help
John." I say sincerely. I start to hold out my left hand and then stop. It's one thing
for me to bleed all over Daniel; it's something completely different to do so over a
virtual stranger.
"You take care Colonel." John says giving me a final nod as he walks off towards the
firefighters.
"Colonel," Carter says lightly touching my elbow and leading me back in the direction
of the van. "Why don't you have a seat here and let me take a look at that."
"It's just a scratch Captain." I grumble more for show than anything else. I know I
need to have it looked at; I just don't want anyone else to think I need to have it
looked at. I sit where Carter asks me to sit and allow her to remove both Daniel's
thoroughly ruined t-shirt bandage and my own blood-drenched undershirt. For such
a little wound, it sure did bleed a lot.
"A little more than a scratch Colonel." Carter chastises as she tuts over the jagged
tear in my flesh, cleaning it with that horribly stinging peroxide and then applying
butterfly bandages across three separate points.
"Janet may want to stitch this Sir." Sam says apologetically as she fastens the last
bandage in place and then wraps my abdomen three times with an ace bandage to
hold everything in place.
"Déjà vu." I say smiling. It couldn't have been more than 24 hours ago when I was
doing the exact same thing to Sam. Speaking of which..
"How are you doing Carter?"
"I'm fine Sir." Sam says a little too quickly.
"uh huh." I reply clearly not buying it. Carter then excuses herself and pops into
the van for a moment. She returns holding a clean t-shirt and three Tylenol.
"It's Daniel's." She explains. That's right! Daniel was going to crash at my place
after we dropped Sam back off at the SGC. Daniel might not like it when I get all
father-figure on him and insist that he come and stay with me after a particularly
nasty mission, but he still would rather sleep in my guest bed than the SGC any day
of the week.
I'm awfully glad about that.
"Sam!" Daniel says in a shocked voice as he rounds the corner from where he was
talking with Red and Curly. "I can't believe you did that!" Did what? Daniel stares
and Carter and Carter stares right back at Daniel. I say again; did what?
"Kids?" I say slowly as I down the Tylenol with cold coffee. Blech.
"Sam knocked Red unconscious with her cast!" Daniel says flailing his arms around,
clearly shocked beyond words that she would do such a thing.
"Come on Daniel, it's not a big deal." Carter says clearly embarrassed. Inside I'm
grinning like an idiot. Carter, brained the guy with her casted arm? Way to go Sam!
"Not a big deal! Sam you could have seriously hurt yourself!" Daniel says in a huff
as he carefully grabs hold of her injured right arm and gently rotates it first to the
right and then to the left.
"Aha!" He says as stops his movements and points to a spot on her arm. "It's
cracked!"
"Carter?" I say as I gingerly stand up and make my way over to where she and
Daniel are standing.
"It's just a little crack Sir." Carter says in explanation. "I'm sure it's not anything
serious." She turns back towards me. "Sir would you please put your shirt on! It's
bad enough we have Daniel here looking like a Playgirl Pinup dressed in leather, we
don't need young co-eds falling for you as well!" I'm going to blame that little
outburst on Carter's meds. Daniel's blushing 6 ways to Saturday and I'm suddenly
feeling very cold.
And more than a little naked.
*************************************
"So Jack," Daniel says as I pull on my (or rather his) t-shirt. Doc Fraiser was
allowing me to go home tonight, but only if Daniel drove and only after I had
promised to return tomorrow for a follow up. I had indeed needed a couple stitches
(all right- 6) but Doc was more worried about how dirty the knife (and Daniel's t-
shirt) might have been and wanted to put me on some antibiotics to counter any
potential wiggly things that might want to harm me. When *don't* wiggly things
want to harm me?!
Fraiser was more pissed at me for letting Carter mess up her pretty cast. Sam had
to have the whole thing redone and only after several new x-rays and some rather
angry-sounding words directed at both me and Carter. I was actually quite happy to
have Nurse Hendrikson put in my stitches; Janet was in a mean mood.
Red and Curly had been picked up by Colorado Spring's finest at around 11 and I
was quite happy to use my rank and status to expedite the whole process. Carter,
Daniel and I only gave the briefest of statements before the pair had been hauled
away. I'd work with Army recruitment tomorrow to get them into the next basic
session. One officer noted that I was Air Force and asked why I wasn't going to
enlist the pair into my own branch of the military. I had just looked at him as if he
was nuts; I don't want them anywhere NEAR my branch thank you very much!
And Kira? Well, that last I saw, her friends were helping her into a cab. She kept
looking around the parking lot obviously looking for someone. And I'll bet you dollars
to donuts I know who.
"Yes, Daniel?" I say in my patient Colonel voice.
"I've been thinking…" I resist rolling my eyes. Daniel, you're always thinking.
"About?"
"Something John said." Daniel replied as he helped me lace up my boots. It's
funny; we don't even give this lacing of boots thing a second thought. Between
Carter, Daniel and myself, we've had 7 dislocated shoulders, 13 bruised or broken
ribs, a dozen sprains and 3 staff blasts too many. Which means, all of us are quite
comfortable having help lacing up our boots. If you're going to be macho about the
pain and discomfort, you've got to pick your situations. Lacing up your boots is just
not one of them.
"John the bartender?"
"Yeah."
"He said something to me right before after he figured out who I was."
"It's been a long night Daniel," I reply as we leave the infirmary and walk down the
nearly silent corridor. "I'm going to need a little something more to go on."
"He called me harmless." Daniel says as we reached the elevator.
"Harmless huh?"
"Jack, I'm serious!" Daniel says clearly upset. "I've been on SG-1 nearly 2 years
now and have seen things and done things most people can't even imagine! How is
it that a complete stranger can call me harmless?!"
The elevator arrives and we step in. We ride in silence through several levels before
I speak.
"Daniel, you said it yourself; you've seen things and done things the rest of the
world probably can't even fathom. Hell, you've died probably more times than any
human on this planet and you're still here! You've kicked Goa'uld ass and SAVED the
frickin' world for crying out loud- why should you care what some guy in a bar thinks
about you?"
Several more floors zipped by while Daniel pondered my latest outburst.
"You're right Jack." Daniel said eventually as he shoved his hands in his pockets and
sighed. "I'm not harmless."
"That's right." I agree as the elevator doors open and we step outside into the cool
night air. "Harmless is just not a word I'd use to describe you Daniel." Anyone who
had ever judged Dr. Daniel to be just 'harmless' usually changed his mind pretty
damn quick.
Daniel opens up the passenger door for me and I ease myself into the front seat.
Daniel gets into the drivers seat and starts the engine. While waiting for car
windows to defrost I suddenly remember something.
"Daniel did you ever read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?"
"The Douglas Adams book?"
"Yeah."
"A long time ago, but yeah, I think I did. He's the guy who wrote about how you
should always bring a towel with you when you roam the galaxy, right?"
"Right." Obviously Mr. Adams had never met a Goa'uld, otherwise, he would have
insisted on a zat.
"Remember what the definition of Earth was?" I ask. Daniel suddenly smiles. A
large carefree smile that I don't think I've seen in months.
"Harmless!" He exclaims grinning from ear to ear.
"And so Dr. Daniel Jackson, Linguist, Archaeologist and general pain in the ass to all
things snakey, I say to you this…" Daniel is about to put the truck into drive but
stops for a moment and looks expectantly as me. Of course he knows what I'm
going to say, but I have to say it regardless.
"You're not 'harmless' Daniel."
"I'm not." Daniel agrees with a smile.
"You're mostly harmless." I can't help but grin at him as I reach a hand over and
affectionately tousle his hair as he puts the truck into drive and heads out of the
base.
"Mostly harmless Spacemonkey, mostly harmless."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finished July 6, 2003
*Does happy dance* Well? Was it worth the wait? Have all your expectations been
met? Considering the fact that I never DID get my little Barista holiday, I'm officially
taking one now. Season 3 Barista stories will commence the first week of August.
In the meantime, I will try to find time to work (dare I say finish??) Imbroglio and
maybe look into something completely new. Thank you all for your words of
encouragement and a HUGE thank you to Kath my beta-goddess extraordinaire.