Title: Taking Care Of Jack
Author: Magnavox
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They're not mine I just borrow them from time to time and promise
to give them back in perfect working order...eventually ;)
Summary: Jack needs taking care of.
Season/Spoiler info: none
Author's notes: Pre-slash, I think Jack may have a little thing for Daniel in
this, written for sidlj 's
prompt "Jack being sick and wanting Daniel to take care of him, but his
subtle hints don't seem to be working". S'cuse the grammar, I think I went
a little overboard with some commas there, and for some reason this is the
second fic in a row that leads to Daniel being fully clothed in a shower...
odd.
Colonels shouldn't get the flu. That should be a rule. Colonel, saved the
planet a couple of times - no flu. But sadly, that's not how it works in my
world.
Said world is currently blanketed in snotty tissues, with random scatterings of
used cups and plates - most of which have not begun to produce their own life
forms, and a lovely assortment of pills, potions and painkillers. I'm in hell.
Lying on the couch is making my back ache, in fact, everything hurts, even my
toes. The flu has no right to be in my toes... I'm lying here dying,
all alone! Where is everyone? I know General Hammond wouldn't send them on a
mission without me, and whatever they have to play with in their respective
labs can't be nearly as much fun as hanging out with me! I'll even clear a
little space in the tissues if Teal'c wants to come over and kel no'reem. No one
ever said that Jack O'Neill was not a gracious host.
My eyes are not completely focused on the old black and white film on the tv,
and the volume is turned way down so the overbearing trumpets in the musical
score don't murder what's left of my ears.
I am just about to slip into blissful unconsciousness when there's a banging at
my door. I struggle to yell out to whoever it is to get lost, but at most I
manage a rough gurgling sound, which wouldn't even scare the neighbour's cat.
Next thing I hear is the door opening. I don't remember hearing it forced open,
but if someone is here to rob the place, they can take whatever they want,
except maybe the Simpsons collection, as long as they promise to put me out of
my misery...
"Jack?" I hear a voice call out from the foyer.
Daniel! My knight in shinning armour is here. The bastard. "Jack? Are you
here?” he yells again. I groan, burying my head further into the pillow in the
vain attempt to shield my ears from that heavenly bellowing.
I manage a growled "What?” before I'm assailed with racking coughs, which
help give away my location and Daniel finally pops his head around the corner
as he hops down the stairs.
"Hey Jack, how are you feeling?" Daniel is way too chipper to be in
my presence right now.
"Go to hell."
"Okay...” Daniel replies with a smile as he spins around to leave.
"No wait" I don't want him to go, in fact, I really really want him
to stay. "Take a seat will ya." I gesture around weakly with the one
arm not tucked under the blanket.
Daniel surveys my tissue plantation and his nose scrunches up in that cute
'you're disgusting, why do I put up with you?' way, before finding a seat in
one of the armchairs.
"General Hammond send you over?", I ask.
"Yes", he replies bluntly. Ow! Ok, I know I'm a tad cranky when I'm
sick, but Daniel knows that, the little shit. He continues to stare at me, the
face of innocence. If I want something, if I want him to stay; to dare I say
it, even, possibly, take care of me a little, well I have to ask for it.
"So what does he want?"
"Who?" Daniel was too busy staring me down.
"General Hammond."
"Oh, right. He wanted me to check on you..."
"And you couldn't do that over the phone?"
"Would you have answered it? And, he wanted me to check up on you in
person, in order to fully assess your capability in finishing these."
Daniel reaches into the bag he brought with him and produces a stack of mission
reports.
Just looking at the small neatly rowed lettering is enough to make the headache
flair up again behind my eyes. I squeeze them shut and attempt to wish the
reports out of existence...or at least out of my house.
"I guess that would be a no, huh?"
I pop open one eye just enough to glare at Daniel. Ok, so the General did
actually send him over, but it would be nice if Daniel took a little interest
in my wellbeing outside of work without my practically having to beg for it.
"Well, I guess I'll be..."
"How am I supposed to see these reports with watery eyes and a stuffed up
head? You're gonna have to stay and read 'em to me." There, the feelers
were out. I try for a cheeky smile, but I suspect I look like some kind of
demented troll - hair sticking up at all angles, red runny nose and all kinds
of bodily odours from a lack of showering.
Daniel cocks his head. 'Look at you Jack, I don't think Hammond's gonna jump on
you if you don't get them done right away. In fact..." I can tell Daniel
is trying to contain a small grin, but the corners of his mouth are betraying
him. "I suspect he sent me over here with them as a means of getting me
out of my lab for a bit, see, there was this tablet from P3X-8..." I let
Daniel's voice wash over me as I recline further into my pillow. Daniel knew
he was coming here to take care of me. I only wish I knew whether he genuinely
wanted to - who am I kidding? Daniel would take care of anyone, well ok, maybe
not Apophis, but anyone else, sure; or whether his visit was due more so to
Hammond's reports, which I agree were a cheap shot at getting Daniel out of the
mountain.
I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts, that I don't hear the soft
"Jack...Jaaack..." Until Daniel is leaning over me, hand on my
shoulder.
I look up to see a slight worried look in Daniel's eyes. "Maybe you should
go to bed Jack. Get a few good hours sleep, it has to be better on your back
than the couch."
You know, sometimes, Daniel can come up with some pretty good ideas when he
puts his mind to it. I nod a fraction in acquiescence and begin to rise from
the cushions with a little help from Daniel. Wow, I didn't realise how light
headed one could get from being vertical. Daniel releases his hold once I am
up, and I nod my thanks. No offence Daniel, but I would prefer to make it down
the hall under my own steam ...and it would be a whole lot easier if this
headache would ease up so I could see where I am going.
I'm almost at my bedroom door and I can hear Daniel puttering around my living
room. As much as I want him here, if he touches even one of my snotty
tissues... I mean, they're arranged perfectly, just where I want them. I'll
clean them up as soon as ...you just don't touch another man's tissue - is the
last thought in my head before the world fades to black.
"Jack...Jack!" Alright already, I said I was going to get off the
couch and go to bed ...except this doesn't feel like my couch, and it's now
raining... and where is my shirt?
"Jack?...c'mon Jack, time to wake up now." Daniel? I groan as feeling
comes back to my body, aches all over and this relentless headache. "Oh
god, Jack you idiot." I open my eyes wide enough to see that Daniel has
dragged me into the en suite bathroom and that I am currently propped up
against his chest, sitting on the tiled floor of my shower. The water is
freezing cold, and I am soaked to the bone.
"What the hell happened?" I slur, managing to turn far enough to look
at Daniel. He is still fully clothed, shirt plastered to his chest, drops of
water running down his cheeks. "You didn't tell me you had a
temperature!" Temperature? How the hell was I supposed to know? I was too
busy dying. I guess he can tell from the perplexed look on my face that I still
have no idea what happened. "You fainted in the hallway, Jack."
Fainted? Please.
"I probably just blacked out for a sec, low blood sugar or some..."
"For 3 minutes?" Ok, so I had a temperature. I gather what little
strength I have to shrug and look as sorry and pitiful as possible.
Daniel rolls his eyes, and continues to hold me up under the spray, arms around
my torso. "If you wanted me to take care of you Jack, you could have just
said so."
I thought I had.