Jack tapped at his keyboard in the patented hunt-and-peck method, a growing sense of alarm filling him.
Oh... *so* not good.
He reached for the mouse, dreading what would happen, or rather, what *wouldn't* happen. With distinct unease, he moved the mouse across his Simpsons mousepad and waited.
The cursor on the screen did nothing.
"Please, no," Jack pleaded with the inanimate object, leaning forward slightly. "Please, don't do this to me."
The screen remained uncooperative, various programs that he had minimized were still up on the screen, fixed there in an irritating fashion. Half his report was on display with a huge white rectangular block obscuring half of it, where the pop-up menu should have been. The cursor remained in the corner where it had been the moment the computer froze.
"Please, please, you don't know how many times I've had to call computer maintenance," he told the monitor in a pathetic voice as he rubbed his hands on the side of his face. "It's so embarrassing."
He lowered his head onto the space in front of his keyboard and thumped a couple of times.
It wasn't like he was computer illiterate. Not really. In fact, compared to some people his age, he was remarkably advanced. He could do all sorts of things on the computer. He knew how to apply a template to Word documents, he knew how to add new hardware, how to remove programs and how to run a virus check. He knew that if he pressed control, alt and delete the task manager would pop up and he could get himself out of all sorts of trouble...
Hey, that was a thought.
With great carefulness, Jack pressed control, alt and delete and looked at the screen expectantly.
No handy little window popped up.
Damn.
He waited a couple more minutes and then looked down at the ground where the base unit was stored. The red loading light wasn't on. He didn't really know if that was a good thing but in his experience, if the loading light was on then something was going on down there. If it wasn't, and there should be something going on, that was a bad sign.
Jack reached for the telephone, his finger hovering over the first number to dial when his computer froze like this or crashed. He knew the number by heart – not because he killed the computer all the time (which he did) but because it was an internal number and was only three digits long.
He pressed two.
And hung up.
No, he would not call them again. It would make it the third time that week which was unacceptable.
Quickly, he ejected the disk that thankfully stored his report, hoped to God that auto-save had done it's little thing before his computer had decided to go berserk on him, and then hit the power button on the base unit.
The computer died with its little whine and Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow the guilt was so much less when the damn thing was off.
He waited a couple of minutes before pressing the power button again, and watched the reboot process with his chin resting on his hand.
*You failed to shut down previously* the computer informed him.
"Hell, wasn't my fault," Jack muttered mutinously.
*Checking Drive C for errors*
"Go for it, pal. Knock yourself out." He sighed and reached for his coffee mug. Habit had him peering into it before trying it and he saw that all that was left were the cold brown dregs. Ew.
15%
He picked up a pen and tapped it against the keyboard. Then against his in-tray. Then on top of his paperweight. Then on the mug. Then, just for curiosities sake, he switched to a pencil and repeated the process again.
17%
Damn. This was taking a *really* long time.
16%
He sat up straight. Sixteen? But a minute ago it was…
15%
Backwards? It was going *backwards*? Oh God. That wasn't good at all.
Hurriedly, Jack hit the power button again.
That was it, then. He would have to go somewhere else to do his report.
Jumping up, Jack debated who he was going to delight with his company while he finished off his report. Jonas? He only had the one computer and since Jack knew for a fact that Jonas had done his report – it was sitting in his in tray looking horrifyingly thick – there was a distinct possibility that Jonas wouldn't be on it. He might not even be in his quarters, Jack thought hopefully, already heading towards the elevators. He was probably eating after all.
He checked his watch. Half past... half past eleven? How had it gotten that late already? he wondered, coming to a halt in the hallways. Looking around him, at the airmen and officers walking to and fro, he told himself it was very easy to forget the time underground. It was underground after all – no windows, no natural light. Plus, there were always people there.
He had not got caught up in his report.
Nope.
Definitely not.
Shit. He so had.
"Dammit," he muttered. Now *he* was turning into a nerd. The power of osmosis. Or was that transfusion? Hell, biology had never been his strong point.
A passing captain gave him an odd look. Jack gave him an odd look right back. Actually, it was more of a scowl.
The captain hurried off.
Hoping Jonas wouldn't be asleep, Jack jumped into the elevator and jabbed his finger on the correct level. He stepped back to lean against the far wall and tapped the floppy disk against his leg impatiently, counting off the levels. A couple more people came in, then got out. Jack had a brief chat with Colonel Danson – apparently the next COs' meeting had been changed. Again. He really wasn't getting his memos.
Jack exited on level twenty-five and hurried through the corridors to Jonas's quarters.
He stared at the closed door with a mixture of regret, disappointment, irritation, and relief.
He tried telepathy, Come on, Jonas. Wake up!
Nothing happened. Clearly, his telepathic powers weren't working any more than they did off-world, when he mentally ordered someone to fetch him coffee first thing in the morning. Obviously, he'd never actually *ask* anyone to get him coffee. Carter would give him that look (not a morning person), Jonas would laugh a bit and give Teal'c a glance that screamed 'is he joking?' and Teal'c would simply ignore him.
Maybe he could just sneak into the main room and go on the...
Okay, okay, Teal'c. He'd go to Teal'c.
He swiveled back on his heels and walked towards the elevators, passing all the people he'd passed on the way down and ignoring their strange looks. He caught the elevator down as it was closing and swung around with practiced moves to hit the button for Teal'c's floor. This time, he leaned against the wall in front of the buttons, thereby obscuring them from anyone who came in.
This time, the door was open. He leaned in. "Teal'c? Damn. Are you going to be on long?"
Teal'c lifted his fingers from the keyboard and raised his eyebrows at Jack. "I have only just begun my report on P8E 348, O'Neill."
"Only just? We've been back since this morning. You usually have it done within thirty minutes of being back."
"That is not true, O'Neill."
They looked at each other.
"That was a joke, wasn't it?" Jack said suspiciously.
Teal'c smiled.
"Good one, buddy," he said appreciatively. "So you're really not gonna be done any time soon?"
"I am not, O'Neill. Have you caused your computer to malfunction again?" Teal'c replied, turning back to his screen.
"No. Well. Yeah." He looked at the floppy in his hand. He supposed he could always go home...
"Perhaps it is time you returned home for the night."
Damn. "I suppose I could." He did have a computer at home, after all.
"You could access your work on your home computer," Teal'c pointed out.
Jack blinked. That was twice in a row.
Maybe he really was telepathic.
No! Maybe Teal'c was.
Jack studied his friend thoughtfully. Teal'c was placidly typing away, using all the right fingers and everything. Jack just bet that Teal'c had used that typing program on the computer and taught himself. Jack could never be bothered. Besides, the 'e' key on his keyboard didn't work and he had to use the sign for the Euro in most of his reports instead. Hammond hadn't commented, but when he'd handed in his report on a planet whose people were called the 'Eegeens' he'd thought he'd seen a slight look of amusement cross his CO's face.
God knew what Hammond's superiors thought.
Perhaps when he did report his computer problems, sometime tomorrow afternoon, he'd ask for a new keyboard too.
"Have you tried JonasQuinn?" Teal'c suggested when Jack didn't respond to his previous comment.
"Yeah. He's gone to bed for the night."
"It is very late."
"I know that. I just wanted to finish." He was on a roll, after all. He was in the report zone. He was one with the...
"O'Neill, perhaps you could try MajorCarter?"
Jack made a face. "She'll probably have gone home," he said, weakly.
Teal'c turned to look at him significantly, eyebrows raised.
"You're right," Jack said, grinning at the suggestion that Carter would be home, especially when she'd brought some goodies back with her from the mission. "I'll go try, Carter. See you tomorrow, Teal'c."
Teal'c bid him goodnight and Jack hit the corridors again.
He had deliberately left Carter last in his choice of working environments. Jonas had been first because of the likelihood that he could use a computer, but also because he could probably pump Jonas's brain for information – like the name of the town principal (Frigidir? Framadon? Damn, he really would have to ask Carter for that). Teal'c had been next because he would have been guaranteed a quiet environment.
Carter was last because she would probably be using the computer, her lab was not a quiet place to work (ever) and she would give him an amused weary look if he asked her the name of the guy who had shown them around for the past three days.
A withering look that he, admittedly, deserved.
Frogman?
Nah.
Unfortunately for Jack, it looked like he had no choice in the matter.
One more trip in the elevator – an amusing, on his part, conversation with Siler who seriously had *no* sense of humor, or at least had no sense of irony – and Jack arrived at level nineteeen. A lot of geeks on this level, he thought to himself. He could all but feel the intelligence beating down on him.
Carter's lab door was shut, which meant she was probably working. The red light wasn't on so he knew he could come in, and he swiped his card through the slot. It misread – damn, he really was having a bad night – and he had to run it through a couple more times before he got the go-ahead. The door pulled open slowly and he got his first sight of Carter since this morning.
Only, Carter didn't see him.
Because she was asleep.
On the damn laptop.
"Dammit," he muttered impatiently. Of all the times she chose to take a nap…
Creeping over to her, he bent down until his face was at her level. He grinned. She looked like a hamster, with her cheeks all puffed out from sleeping on one side of her face and her hair all poofy. Obviously, she'd had a shower and let her hair dry without combing it through. Not that he would have noticed that sort of thing by himself. Oh no. Once, about three years ago, Sam had been in a particularly bad mood and over the campfire one night had informed all three of them all the things that pissed her off about herself.
It had been illuminating.
Terrifying, but illuminating.
So he knew how each and every one of her bad hair days were created. Perhaps a little more than he wanted to know but, still, he could deal.
"Carter?" he whispered, hopefully. "Carter?"
She didn't stir.
Crap!
He gingerly touched her shoulder and gave her a little shake, standing as far away from her whilst he did so. He just knew she'd swing out at him violently if she was surprised.
She moaned a little, but didn't wake up.
Double crap.
Jack debated his options. He could call computer maintenance but that didn't necessarily mean they would get around to his computer that night. He could go home. He could go and find some willing stranger to let him use their computer.
Or he could ease Carter's face off of the laptop and slide the laptop out from under her…
Jack looked down at his blue floppy disk. He looked at Carter, sleeping soundly and hamster-like.
It would probably be best if he went home.
Then again... it would probably be a good idea to get her off of the laptop. It wasn't really a wise use of equipment, he decided, dropping the floppy down onto the table and judging the best way to go about moving her.
He investigated her head from every angle and decided the best thing to do would be to slide his hand under her forehead and lift, and use the other hand to pull the laptop out from under her.
Hoping he wouldn't drop her, Jack carefully edged his hand under her forehead, palm upwards. When he was sure it was secure, he lifted her head – yowza, she had a heavy head – and then grabbed the laptop and dragged it away. He eased her head back down, feeling pretty pleased that he hadn't woken her up.
"Excellent," he murmured, flipping open the laptop. It started booting up automatically and Jack looked around for a stool to sit on. She couldn't only have one stool in her lab, could she?
Apparently.
He'd better get an appreciative mention from Hammond about his report after all this mess he went through getting the damn thing done.
He marched out of the lab and found the nearest occupied lab. "Can I borrow this?" he asked of a couple of technicians in lab coats.
They looked at him and each other, then nodded as one.
"Thanks." Gripping the stool rim, he carried it back into Carter's lab and carefully set it down in front of the laptop. He realized he was sitting a little too close to her but since she was asleep, he figured it didn't really matter that much.
*Press ctrl, alt and del to begin*
"Okay, then." He tapped in the keys.
*Username*
"Uh…." He really should have thought of this before. Still, his username was O'NeillJ, it figured that hers would probably be…. "CarterS."
*Password*
"Ah-hah, I know this one," he announced to no one. He typed in 'naquadah'. "Carter, that one is just too obvious."
The computer loaded up with no problems after that and he found the slot in the side to put the disk, clicked on the Word program and finally got going on the rest of his report, pleased to see that he'd only lost a couple of sentences from the computer crash.
It didn't take him very long. After all, he was in the report 'zone'. He even remembered what the name of that guy had been - Fooriman. A couple more paragraphs and a bulleted summary and he was done. He clicked save and ejected the disk, happy now that it was done. He didn't like leaving things unfinished.
"That's great, Carter, thanks," he told her easily, exiting the program. He smiled at the desktop – a tropical beach scene. "You know, Carter, you could visit that type of place. If you took your downtime."
She was *way* easier to talk to when she was asleep, Jack couldn't help but think. It was certainly easier to get a word in edgewise.
She had a lot of things on her computer desktop. Most of them recent mission reports, for her reference. A couple of plans. A memo list. He accidentally clicked on that. No, really, it was accidental. He'd been heading for the 'start' button to shut down and the memo list was right above it – probably to remind her that she needed to check it before she shut down.
He fixed his eyes on the top of the screen while the memo list showed up. Trying not to look, he moved the mouse in the general direction of the close button but he kept missing.
*E-mail Mark about Christmas*
Christmas? Which was in... three months? What? Was she super- organized?
He rolled his eyes. Well, *duh*.
*Shoes!*
Obviously that would mean more to Carter than it did him.
He really shouldn't be reading this.
*Search for backdoor keys*
She was always losing those, he recalled. He looked down at her, smiling. "Not as organized as everyone thinks, eh, Carter?"
*Hair appointment*
It wasn't even very interesting. Why was he reading this?
*Call McKay*
Jack blinked.
*Call McKay*?
At which point, Carter sneezed and woke herself up. Jack jumped – even though he knew she sneezed herself awake sometimes. She sneezed again and wiped the back of her hand across her nose, staring at him. "Sir! What are you doing here?"
"Um…"
Her eyes moved from him to her laptop and the damning evidence on the screen.
"Going through your memos," he said, slumping in defeat.
Oh boy did Carter look pissed.
"My computer broke," he said pathetically, scrunching up his face in preparation for the verbal assault. He knew he was in the wrong and he would just have to accept the consequences.
"And that means you can go through my personal documents, does it, sir?" she demanded hotly.
"I didn't mean to," he said, indignantly. "The mouse was sticky and... hell, Carter, you know me and computers." He blinked at her, trying to look innocent.
Carter clenched her teeth, reigning in her temper. It wouldn't do to scream at each other where anybody could hear them and Jack was grateful she realized that. It didn't mean he was going to get away with it – oh she would *so* find a way to pay him back – but it meant he could relax.
So, the best thing to do would be to apologize again, grab his floppy and exit as fast as possible.
That would be the best thing.
"What's going on with you and McKay?"
Dammit!
Story Notes: A/N: Thanks to Emry and Mel for betaing. And yes, this fic came about because I was having issues with the computer yesterday.
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 ]