Daniels Diaries. Stargate SG-1 Fanfiction by Scribe
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All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

 

 

This story is rated PG and is a piece of pure fluff (or perhaps wishful thinking<g>). Written especially AJ following a discussion of favourite quotes. Enjoy!


 

As the Stargate burst into life, Janet Frasier positioned herself next to George Hammond at the foot of the ramp.

"Two days early," she commented as much to herself as to the general.

In response the general's expression tightened, the smallest nod of his head giving assent to what they both knew. SG-1 was returning from a mission ahead of schedule and that invariably meant trouble.

Knowing her own expression was every bit as concerned as the general's, Janet reached into the pocket of her white coat and retrieved a pair of medical gloves. She was still tugging at the left-hand glove as SG-1 burst through the event horizon, the familiar sucking sound announcing their arrival.

Oh no! Janet started up the ramp as she took in the scene before her. Sam Carter had been first through and was now standing to one side, looking tired, rumpled but unharmed. Daniel Jackson, however, was being half-carried by Jack O'Neill and Teal'c, his arms hanging limply around their shoulders as they supported his weight. Damn! All of SG-1 had suffered more than their fair share of physical injuries and other medical complications over the past year or two but lately it seemed fate was determined to give Daniel a particular pounding. Still at least this time he was still vertical and apparently conscious.

As Janet took another step forward she abruptly halted, one hand flying to her nose and mouth. "God! What is that stink?"

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Sam's mouth. "That stink is Daniel."

Breathing through her mouth, Janet resumed her progress, reaching Daniel's side as Jack and Teal'c carefully eased him to a sitting position. The archaeologist flopped like a rag doll, his right leg folded under his left and his upper body leaning forward at an almost impossible angle. Straightening slightly, he began to trace the pattern of the corrugated metal in front of him with the index finger of his right hand, the action conducted with an almost reverential slowness and an apparent lack of awareness of his audience.

"He's all yours, doc," Jack said, relief evident in his voice as he straightened up, stretching his back theatrically.

"Daniel? Are you okay?" Janet crouched beside him her sharp eyes scrutinising every detail of his appearance. He was heavily spattered in some sort of thick, bluish-grey mud which her nose was informing her was the source of the putrid aroma, a foul mix of decaying meat and animal excrement. She could only imagine he had become de-sensitised to it because while she was having trouble holding onto the contents of her stomach and the rest of SG-1 had backed well away, Daniel seemed as oblivious of the odour as he was of the rest of his surroundings.

As she reached out a tentative hand to check his vitals, Daniel straightened his back, lifting his head and fixing Janet with a confused look. He blinked slowly at her, and tilted his chin to one side as though to obtain a better

view, his vision hampered by the lack of glasses. Abruptly a smile cut across his dirt-smeared features, giving him the irresistible look of an errant child caught playing in the mud by a favourite aunt.

"Janet!" He slurred her name as happy recognition flickered in his expression.

"Yes, Daniel. It's me. Do you know where you are?" As Daniel's gaze slid past her, a frown of concentration replacing the smile, Janet quickly checked him over. Slightly warm to the touch, but nothing to worry about. Pulse raised, but again not so fast as to be alarming.

"S.. G.. C." He spoke the letters with deliberate care, turning his attention back to her, the smile returning and his expression expectant as though he was waiting for her approval of his response

She smiled back, nodding slightly as she noted how dilated his pupils were. Slurred speech. Lack of co-ordination. A dozen possible diagnoses leapt into her mind. The palms of both hands looked abraded, as though he had used them

to break a fall onto rough ground. A deep scratch ran from his right eyebrow to a point just below his ear, and various rips in his uniform suggested there might be other minor lacerations in need of attention beneath the foul-smelling mud. She glanced over her shoulder.

"Colonel O'Neill? Want to tell me what happened?"

"He's drunk," Jack replied, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. "The natives on P3X-877 offered us this disgusting looking yellow paste for dinner which…" His voice took on a superior edge. "Teal'c, Carter and I

politely declined. Of course, anthroboy here can never resist a new culinary experience, and yes, he said it tasted of chicken. Unfortunately it was also very alcoholic although we didn't realise until Daniel started singing."

"I see." With a sense of relief, Janet climbed to her feet, satisfied Daniel wasn't in any immediate danger. "And the… err.. mud."

"The young tribesmen like to show off their balancing skills," Sam volunteered. "They stretch a narrow beam across their animal pens and then dare each other to run across it. Unfortunately their idea of animal husbandry leaves a lot to be desired."

Teal'c's gaze rested on O'Neill for a moment, the unspoken accusation clear. "I attempted to dissuade Daniel Jackson from this activity,"

"What?!" Jack protested innocently.

The smile tugging at Sam's lips finally broke free. "You did egg him on, Colonel."

Jack shrugged. "He wanted to do it! I merely commented it was a good way to prove he'd got over that thing with heights."

Janet shook her head wearily, imagining only too clearly the scene in which a drunken Daniel would be goaded into a rash act. The scientist was far too impulsive when sober. "What about all these scratches?"

Jack grimaced. "Ahh well.. see, the locals feed their animals on a particular type of thistle. Nasty stuff. Long needle-like barbs. Damned if I know how they eat the stuff…"

"Colonel?" Janet interrupted impatiently.

Jack shuffled his feet, his gaze riveted to some point beyond Janet's left ear. "Daniel fell into the feeding trough. He got muddy when he fell out of the trough into the pen."

"I'm… okay," Daniel slurred, drawing everyone's attention as he unsteadily tried to climb to his feet. He peered up at Jack, then raised his right hand and waved his index finger in the colonel's general direction. Clearly finding it an effort to control his alcohol-befuddled brain he very slowly put a whole sentence together. "I got them to agree to trade, didn't I?"

Jack smiled. "Yes, Daniel. After your little escapade I think they would've agreed to give you anything you wanted.." He shot Janet a weary look. "…including their daughters." He sighed dramatically, his voice taking on a long-suffering air. "Which is why we decided it was time to come home!"

Hammond's no-nonsense tone cut through the conversation. "Is Dr Jackson going to be alright, Doctor?"

Janet glanced towards the general and nodded. "As far as I can tell… yes Sir. Nothing aspirin and a couple of Band-Aids won't fix."

Hammond nodded curtly. "Good! SG-1, debriefing will be in two hours." He did a sharp about turn, barking as he headed for the door, "And someone get some air freshener in here!"

Almost instantly the entire gateroom guard hurried to do his bidding, leaving SG-1 and Janet alone on the ramp.

"Great security, guys!" Jack called after them. "Geez. If they can't take a little pong how are they going to cope with a platoon of Jaffa?"

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Jaffa are very particular about bodily odour,

O'Neill. I do not think you have cause for concern."

Janet and Sam exchanged an amused look as Jack gave Teal'c a double-take. Turning her attention back to Daniel, Janet was only just in time to side-step him as he swayed uncertainly towards her, looking like he might topple any moment. Oh no! He could bruise his backside falling down again before she'd allow him to get that foul-smelling filth on her clean coat. And since his injuries were both superficial and apparently self-inflicted he could damn well get himself cleaned up before she treated him. However, as Daniel crumpled gracelessly back to the floor, Janet sighed. He was

clearly in no state to take care of himself and for once she suspected none of her nurses would be volunteering to help him.

Momentarily uncertain of her next action, Janet's gaze returned to O'Neill. Okay. There was the obvious solution. "Well Colonel, since he got into this state under your command, I think it's only fair you and Teal'c help him get out of it." She fixed Jack with her sternest look as he opened his mouth to protest.

Putting as much distance between herself and Daniel as possible Janet joined Sam who had moved to the bottom of the ramp, leaving Jack no option but to give an acquiescent shrug. Nodding to Teal'c, he moved to Daniel's side, and

together they helped him to his feet.

With Daniel safely upright once more, Jack turned to Janet. "Awaiting your orders, doctor."

Checking that the gateroom was indeed deserted, Janet grinned mischievously. "Strip him, bathe him and deliver him to my tent!" She smiled triumphantly, before adding. "Sorry! I've always wanted to say that!"

"Your tent?" Jack repeated incredulously, as Daniel twisted in his grasp muttering something about keeping his clothes on.

"Okay, the infirmary," Janet said reluctantly.

"It's a Highlander quote," Sam explained with a smile, quickly adding in response to Jack's blank look, "It's a TV show."

"I knew that!" Jack said, recovering quickly. He tightened his grip on Daniel who was now insisting quite loudly that he wasn't taking his clothes off - medical orders or not. "Come on Duncan Macloud. Time to hit the showers."

As the three men wove an uncertain path towards the gateroom door, Sam turned to Janet, her expression one of open admiration. "Strip him, bathe him and deliver him to my tent? I like the way you think!" Her gaze trailed back towards the departing scientist before adding quietly. "Mind you, now Daniel's not the only one who needs a shower."

Janet nodded sagely. "Cold shower."

"Uh-uh!" Sam agreed. "Very cold shower!"

 


 

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