If the mud had only smelled as bad as it looked, thought Jack, they never would have heard any of it. Not that he cared, but it obviously had bothered Carter, and that bothered him.
They would have been getting cleaned up, because anything that stank like that mud should have stunk would have had the infirmary staff scrambling to get them the hell out of there. But no, this mud had to smell like a damn bouquet.
You'd think that swamp mud would be green. Maybe a light kinda puke- green, or a dark, rotten green, but swamp mud ought to be green. However, this thick, dried stuff was a dull burnt orange, criss- crossing his fatigues like an alien city map. A city map that smelled faintly of the flowers in the old lady next door's garden. The big purple ones.
Daniel, less mud-covered than either Jack or Carter, perched sideways on the edge of the infirmary bed, his back to the door, hands folded in his lap. His legs swung slightly as he studied a sign by the head of the bed. Jack didn't think Daniel was even aware he and Carter were there, both having entered the then-busy infirmary in silence after discovering the unusually long line for the showers. The mud's aroma didn't seem to be caused by pollen, because Daniel hadn't sneezed once the whole alien-gnat-filled mission.
Teal'c was already through and in line for the showers, as was SG-11.
Carter and Jack, who were the dirtiest and therefore avoided by the medical staff, sat in metal chairs lining the wall, Carter looking almost asleep with her head propped in her hands. Jack studied the weary curve of her back. She looked like she needed a backrub.
He leaned back and glanced leisurely across the ceiling, his gaze finally stopping on the nearest corner. The one with the wide-angle security camera. His right hand, the one nearest to her, twitched.
He inhaled slowly, watching Daniel's much cleaner back, then plucked a half-inch square chunk of dried orange mud off his thigh. Placing it on his right knee, he flicked it across the newly-waxed infirmary floor.
It skittered directly under Daniel's perch. Excellent. There was a faint huff of air, not really a snort, beside him. He pulled off another chunk, this one triangular, and perched it on his knee.
Janet Fraiser's heels clicked through the doorway beside him. He leaned back and waited.
Picking up a clipboard, Dr. Fraiser tugged the privacy curtain closed. "Okay, Daniel, could you move over to this side, please?" Shuffling noises accompanied Daniel's muttered reply.
Jack leaned far forward, peering through the four-inch gap under the curtain for the doctor's blue, low-heeled shoes. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Carter slowly shaking her head. Encouraged, he flicked the triangle under the curtain. It skidded almost three feet away from the blue heels.
"Damn," he whispered. "I gotta do better than that."
"So, Daniel, feeling alright?" The curtain rustled as the blue heels shifted. The unmistakable crackling rip of Velcro sounded as Jack lined up another shot. A high, rhythmic puffing came from behind the curtain. Must be the blood pressure-taker thing.
"A bit muddy and tired, but otherwise fine."
This shot went wide by only by a foot. If he just had a hockey stick...
"Still feeling... well..."
"Solid?"
"Yeah."
"Very solid." Jack could hear a rustling that must be Daniel rubbing a bruise. Probably the knee, he reflected somewhat sympathetically. His next choice of missiles disintegrated under his fingertips, and a fresh whiff of the purple-flower scent clogged his nostrils. "Altogether too solid."
"Let me take a look at that." Janet's feet shifted apart. Jack smiled. "Goalposts," he whispered. Carter exhaled slowly; he could hear the smile beginning.
The next hunk of mud was an odd oblong one, heavier and obviously requiring a bit more force behind the flick. "Yes - goal!" he muttered as the mud-puck slid along a perfect trajectory.
Just as the chunk spun between her feet, Janet shifted. There was a soft, almost delicate crunch. Janet paused, then muttered something under her breath.
Daniel spoke up, sounding perkier than he ever had since they first entered that slimehole of a bog. "Why doctor, that doesn't sound very medical."
"Look at all the mud you're shedding. It's probably chock full of alien bacteria!" Janet's toe shoved the puck to the side.
"Sorry, Janet, SG3 had the showers, with half of SG11 waiting in line. I'll make it up to you, though." The blue heels moved toward the wall as Janet fiddled with something metallic-sounding.
The next chunk was being stubborn. He gave up on getting it off in one piece and reached towards a thick patch of mud caked on Carter's thigh. Before he could touch her, her left hand flashed away from her head and swatted his right. He pondered his options. Damn camera.
"Okay, make it up to me how?" Fraiser sounded justifiably suspicious as she stepped back.
Then, in his calculatedly-casual-Daniel voice, "Dinner. How 'bout... oh... Martino's?"
Jack could have sworn every person in the room was holding their breath, and possibly a few machines were, too. Carter met his eyes, eyebrows raised.
Several beats later, Janet stammered, "You... you want to go out... with *me*?" Somehow he'd always thought the good doctor would be a little more adept with the opposite sex than this. The corners of Carter's eyes softened. Amazing, definitely amazing, how good orange mud looked on the curve of her cheek.
"Well... yes. Yes, definitely, I'd like to go out with you. On a date."
Jack felt inexplicably proud of Daniel. Carter was almost ready to smile.
"Oh." Pause.
At the sound of Janet's voice, Carter turned towards the curtain, lake-blue eyes unfocussed. As her body shifted the floral mud-scent washed over him again, somehow appropriate now for mud on her.
"Wow. Daniel." The blue shoes were frozen in place.
Carter's lips were moving faintly, her brows bunched together worriedly. God, Janet wasn't going to turn him down, was she?
"Well, Janet?" The bed creaked as Daniel shifted. "You name the day. Sam told me you have a thing for chicken cacciatore." The pause lengthened. Carter's eyes closed.
"Daniel, this is very flattering." Janet's voice sounded hesitant, almost flat.
Carter cursed without sound, eyes still closed. She shook her head once, then leaned back to stare at the ceiling.
"But..." Jack could feel the set of Daniel's jaw in his voice, full of restraint and frustration.
"But I'm your doctor. I can't get involved with one of my patients. It's against medical ethics."
A tight sigh came from the curtain. "You treat Cassie."
"I'm the only expert available with the clearance to look at her files. Warner's a surgeon, not a diagnostician."
"You treat Sam and she's your best friend."
"Same situation since Jolinar made her blood chemistry unique."
"Janet, I hardly think one date will wreck your medical judgment."
"There are good reasons for those regulations. The rules are meant to save lives. Lives that emotional entanglements would place in jeopardy."
Carter's eyes opened. She stared vacantly at the far wall. Jack wished he'd flicked the mud *at* Daniel instead of under him.
Janet hesitated, and the tone of her voice changed, becoming more self-conscious. "And I really don't think this is the time or -"
Daniel's feet slid to the ground. "Aw, Janet, I know that... that some people can't... but, but, but... you can't tell me that there are a bunch of stupid regulations keeping us apart, too?"
Carter shifted, then swallowed and stared at the floor. Jack realized he was tapping his toe and stopped. The tension, almost grief in Carter's profile started something building inside him, dark and burning. Something that wanted to yell `Shut the hell up, Daniel', or `Screw the regs,' and take her in his arms without any memory-wiping time loop. He ran both hands through his hair and let the tension out deliberately in a slow, soft exhalation, consciously relaxing all his muscles.
"Daniel." From the strain in her voice, Janet was obviously all too aware of who was sitting outside the curtain. Daniel wasn't taking the hint.
"Your judgment has always been sound where Sam and Cassie are concerned." Daniel's filthy boots moved to inches from Janet's impeccable blue shoes. Softly, in that soothing, charm-the-claws-off- an-Unas-Daniel voice, "Janet, you deserve more than a life full of other people's needs. Sometimes you have to put energy into yourself, too. It'll make you that much stronger, that much... better able to take care of the people who need you."
"Daniel, it's hard enough as it is. I don't think I'm ready..."
"To risk falling for someone who could die tomorrow? Again?"
Carter leaned forwards again as her forehead sank into her right hand, elbow on her knee, back hunched like the coach of a losing team. Jack linked his fingers together to keep from reaching out and touching her.
Softly, "That's part of it."
"People die every day. Either of us could die in a car wreck tomorrow. Furthermore, look at the example of Sparta."
The blue shoes took a half step backwards. "What?"
Jack shifted in his chair, restraining several inappropriate urges. For God's sake, Daniel could drag archaeology into a discussion about anything. He glanced at Carter's bowed head. Just shut up, Daniel, okay? He coughed. It sounded fake, and it didn't work.
"Yes, Sparta. The Spartan warriors were renowned for their ferocity in battle. At the battle of... well, anyway, Plato suggested that one of the reasons that the Spartans fought so well is that the commanders encouraged... ahh... romantic relationships between the soldiers. They felt that it gave the warriors incentive to perform up to the highest standard, to never give up, to never quit, never do anything but their best."
Carter's eyes were closed as if she could block out the sound as well as the view of the curtain. Jack stretched leisurely, and glanced slowly, apparently casually at the corner with the camera.
"Okay, Daniel, now that we know where you stand on 'don't ask, don't tell', can we discuss this another time and place?" No way, Janet, the guy's on a roll now. Jack tucked his legs under the chair.
He leaned forward to place his head in his left hand, mirroring Carter, and shielding her somewhat from the camera's view. He slid his right hand towards her left, resting on her thigh. His pinkie trailed across the back of her hand, the lightest, most inconspicuous caress he could manage. It was all he had to give.
Something changed in the set of her body. Her hand moved a fraction of an inch, brushing the back of her hand against his fingertips.
"The point is... maybe having people who care about each other making those life and death decisions, well, it could… encourage people to excel. They work harder, fight harder; they won't let anything stop them where the other is concerned." Long pause. "I know; I've seen it."
Carter opened one eye and watched their hands. Her left hand turned over, and her index finger curled around his pinkie. His chest tightened at her ready acceptance of his inadequate gift, of him. The tension was draining out of her; he could feel the change where their thighs and shoulders brushed against one another.
Janet's answer was almost a sigh. "Yeah." Then, softly, "But those aren't the rules we live by, Daniel." There was a rustling, and paper shuffling. "Daniel, you need to know." Janet's voice drifted into a low whisper.
"Sitting right over there?" Daniel's whisper carried farther than Janet's. There was a long silence. Yes, their not-so-appropriate feelings were being waved about in public again. Just lovely. Since it was all he could do, he squeezed Carter's finger.
Janet murmured, "If things ever change, though, I've got just the dress."
The corner of Carter's mouth curled faintly upward, and her finger tightened around his. Even red-lined with fatigue, her eyes were a remarkable shade of blue.
There was more paper shuffling. A long moment later, Daniel murmured, "Think about it, ok?"
Their hands separated as the curtain slid open, the unmusical squeal of the hangars echoing against the infirmary walls. Jack leaned back and pulled out his best black-ops-blank face. Carter ran her hand through her hair and kept her head down.
Janet barely glanced at them, badly concealing guilt with her professional demeanor. She took a deep breath and spoke a bit too loud. "You're free to go, Doctor Jackson. Who's next?"
Daniel, who'd make an even worse spy than the good doctor, shuffled towards them radiating awkward guilt. "Hey Jack, Sam."
Carter lifted a hand briefly in acknowledgement. Jack leaned back and calmly met Daniel's gaze. "Daniel."
Daniel looked like he was going to say something else, but settled for an odd movement that was half wave and half shrug. Even post- ascended Daniel couldn't shed the occasional geeky gesture.
As Daniel's footsteps clunked down the hall, Dr. Fraiser stepped forward. "Okay, who wants the first shower?"
Jack stared at the orange clumps clinging to his boots. "Go, Carter." He elbowed her gently.
"Yes, sir." She rose and walked to the empty bed, never glancing his way.
Story Notes: Warnings: mild language
Spoilers: only "the big one" for season 7
Season: 7 (written prior to Season 7 filming)
Archive: SJD, Jackfic, Carterfic, Heliopolis, yes, anyone else, ask.
Author's Notes: Huge thanks to my betas: Audrey, Allie, Arnise, Bon, and the friendly sadists of SG1Badfic. Feedback would really be appreciated; I'm new at this and need lots of cyber- encouragement.
Spoilers: only "the big one" for season 7
Season: 7 (written prior to Season 7 filming)
Archive: SJD, Jackfic, Carterfic, Heliopolis, yes, anyone else, ask.
Author's Notes: Huge thanks to my betas: Audrey, Allie, Arnise, Bon, and the friendly sadists of SG1Badfic. Feedback would really be appreciated; I'm new at this and need lots of cyber- encouragement.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]