Light Lunch – Part 3

Jack woke, his first instinct being to sit up and see where he was, but that was soon dispelled as even the smallest movement had him groaning.

"Here, sir."

Paul Davis was standing alongside him, leaning down, looking worried, and at the sight of the concerned expression on the officer's face everything slid back into place. He accepted the outstretched arm, needing all Davis's strength to sit up enough to be comfortable. A nurse he recognised as being in almost constant attendance on him slipped an extra pillow behind his back and helped to ease him gently down again.

"Your lunch is here, general." The nurse turned and picked up a tray, positioning it across his lap.

He frowned at it. The serving wouldn't feed a sparrow – that's if the sparrow was stupid enough to eat the crap the hospital kitchens substituted for real food. Some sort of watery soup and a bowl of runny milk product that looked like what Sara used to feed Charlie when he was a baby.

"I can chew you know. It was my shoulder that was shot, not my teeth."

He had the feeling the nurse had heard the same complaint too many times to react. She just nodded, gave a mechanical smile, and pushed the spoon into his hand.

"Would you like some help, sir?"

"No thank you, Davis. I've been feeding myself for years now." He gave the colonel a pointed look and began to dip the utensil into the pale brown liquid, trying hard to conceal how such a simple task was almost beyond him. Damn, but he felt as weak as a kitten. He felt as old and shaky as ...

"Aw, crap. I fell asleep on him, didn't I?"

Davis nodded. "Yes, sir. Mister Curtis said to tell you he understood and that he appreciated you asking to see him."

"How long have I been asleep?"

The colonel took a look at his watch. "About three hours, sir."

"That long?" Jack shook his head, wondering why, if he had slept most of the day, he still felt so tired. He didn't seem to be bouncing back from this injury the way he normally did. Even taking a deep breath had become an adventure in itself.

"Yes, sir." Davis placed a bundle of newspapers at his feet. "I've brought the latest papers. There are some interesting articles on the terrorist attack in Seattle."

Jack nodded, knowing they'd have to wait until the nurse was out of the room to properly discuss the issue. In some ways he was glad he didn't have to handle the fall out from that incident. It would be interesting to hear how the explanations for a building's disappearance were being received.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Paul Davis waited until the general pushed the tray a little off his lap, indicating he was done despite the fact he had barely eaten half the soup and hadn't touched the other dish. He lifted it and placed it on the trolley near the door and returned to hand O'Neill the first of the papers. This had become something of a ritual with them in the days since the general had been able to sit up a little. They would discuss the articles in the newspapers then he would brief O'Neill on what was actually happening.

Of course some aspects of the Ba'al incident he was under orders not to reveal. It seemed that he wasn't the only one to be concerned at the general's probable reaction. A conspiracy of silence had settled around the gravely injured man – a conspiracy that went right up to the top.

The door to the room opened, and another nurse popped her head around. "Ah, you've finished." She came in, carrying a large floral arrangement of white lilies and assorted greenery. "I'll clear the tray as soon as I find a space to put this. It was just delivered." She pushed the water jug and glass to one side and carefully put the flowers on the cabinet, turning them so that the front of the arrangement faced the man in the bed. "They're gorgeous, but a bit of an odd choice. We don't get many lilies used in arrangements here at the hospital."

Davis eyed the flowers quizzically. The nurse was right – it was an odd choice. Maybe they were all that was in season. He didn't know much about flowers.

"Who are they from, Davis? See if there's a note."

Paul stood, spotting paper sticking out from their edge, and pulling it out. "Here, sir. Would you like me to read it?"

O'Neill shook his head, reaching out a hand to take it. "No, I can handle it, thanks."

Paul waited as the general opened the envelope, drawing a simple light blue card from inside it. Then he hurried forward as O'Neill went impossibly white. For a moment the other man seemed to stop breathing then he took a shuddering gasp, clutching at his chest with his free hand, the note still in it.

Paul pushed the call button, and put his hand out to steady the general, only to have the crumbled piece of cardboard thrust into his hand. He looked down, taking in what was written in it in one quick glance.

"Sorry I missed you. Another time perhaps? Ba'al."

He looked back up to find a pair of piecing brown eyes fixed on him.

"Get me Daniel. Now!"

xoxoxoxoxoxo

The End – of this part anyway. Continued in 'Dinner Date'.