The Shower Scene Series. Stargate SG-1 Fanfiction by Scribe
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Shower Scenes

The Waiting Game



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.


Category: Missing scene; angst
Season/spoilers: Season 4 - Small Victories
Rating: G
Warnings: Grutuitous nudity<g>
Summary: Daniel's morning routine isn't quite what it used to be.
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, he isn't mine, but I wish he was... plus the usual MGM are great and worthy.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Lex for suggesting the idea of doing Season 4 missing scenes. Many thanks also to the Bath and Body Works girls (you know
who you are<g>)


The insistent beep of his alarm clock pulled Daniel reluctantly from sleep. One hand snaked from the duvet and fumbled around the bedside table until, more by luck than judgement, the alarm was silenced. A heavy sigh filled the room. Time to get up already? Daniel burrowed into his pillow, his sleep-hazed mind bent on stealing a few more minutes of blissful oblivion.

No, wait! Today was the day!

Daniel was suddenly alert. A thrill of nervous anticipation shuddered through him, making the hairs on his forearm stand to attention. Sergeant Siler had promised the Stargate would be up and running today. Today was the day!

Suddenly eager to get up and going, Daniel rolled onto his side, slid his bare legs and feet out from under the duvet and over the edge of the bed, and carefully levered himself into a sitting position. He congratulated himself. That was the first time he'd managed to get upright without wincing since Janet had taken a scalpel to his rebellious appendix. Turning on the bedside light he peered down at the neat scar which now curved like an elongated new moon across his lower abdomen. He'd healed quickly, despite Janet bemoaning he ignored all her advice to rest; with luck, and maybe just a little bit of sweet-talking, she might sign him back onto proper duty today. He'd better get a move on - the sooner he got to the SGC the sooner he could get his visit to the infirmary over and done with. And the sooner he could check in with Sergeant Siler and the Gateroom.

Daniel pushed off the bed and padded to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of his naked body in the wardrobe mirror as he went. The sight made him straighten his shoulders. Having a hole in his side sure hadn't done anything for his posture. He mentally chastised himself; no more walking hunched over now he was healed. He'd dig his PJs out the laundry basket too. He wasn't really a big fan of sleeping nude, but several nights of being woken by the elastic of PJ pants making painful contact with his healing skin had convinced him it was a temporary necessity.

Stepping into the bathroom, he peered at his face in the mirror, decided he needed a haircut and then reached for his razor, an old-fashioned metal affair designed to last a man a lifetime - although tracking down blades was becoming more and more difficult.

Daniel smiled at the memory of Jack's reaction the first time he'd seen the ancient implement. He could hear Jack's sarcasm-laden voice in his head, 'I'm all for research, Daniel, but don't you think you're taking archaeology a little bit far?' As for Jack's opinion after seeing Daniel use it - 'Are you sure your health insurance covers you for doing this every morning, Daniel?' Jack had gone straight to the nearest store and brought him an all-singing, all-dancing electric shaver. Only then had Daniel, with some embarrassment, explained that the razor was one of the few things he had that once belonged to his father. Still they'd compromised on the new shaver; Daniel agreeing to take it on missions. And invariably, Jack would end up borrowing it because he never remembered to charge the batteries in his own.

Lathering his chin and cheeks, Daniel swept the overnight growth away with quick, practised strokes, his thoughts still on Jack. How long had he been gone now? Getting on for two weeks? Daniel felt the familiar grip of fear steal into his stomach. Too many long days with no way of knowing whether Jack was dead or alive. God, Jack, please be okay. Please be on some planet somewhere griping about the fact the batteries in your shaver are flat and whinging about how long it's taking us to get the spare gate up and running.

Daniel rinsed his face with cold water and ran one hand over his skin, checking the smoothness. Satisfied with his handiwork, he replaced the razor in the mug on the sink and turned the shower full-on. Steam billowed as he stepped under the rush of water, enjoying the tingling sensation of hot needles on his skin. His right hand folded around the shower gel hanging from the curtain rail, the action familiar and automatic. A quick flick of his thumb, a squeeze of gel into the palm of his left hand, the air filled with the aroma of vanilla and lime. Daniel inhaled deeply, memories of an earlier time cascading with the water.


"Hmmm, great smell." Daniel sniffed appreciatively as Sam walked by him. SG-1 had hit the showers after a particularly damp and muddy mission and now, having met up in the communal area of the locker rooms, were enjoying being warm and dry again.

"Probably this." Sam tossed him a bottle of shower gel as she towelled her hair. "Keep it if you like it. Bath and Body Works were doing a two-for-one, so I have plenty."

"Oh. Thanks." Daniel flipped the lid and sniffed again. "Vanilla and... lime?"

Sam nodded.

"Nice thought, Carter," Jack snorted. "I'm sure Daniel smelling like a fruit basket will make our next mission much more interesting."

"You didn't complain about me using it, Sir."

Jack gave her a long-suffering look. "You're a girl, Carter. You're meant to smell that way."

Daniel opened his mouth to protest but Sam beat him to it.

"Oh? And what is the Colonel O'Neill aroma of the month, then?" she retorted. She walked up to him and sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "It's that macho one, isn't it? What's it called? Hyena?"

"Lynx It's called Lynx!" Jack replied defensively. "And before you say any more, I didn't buy it. It was a gift."

"A gift?" Sam's eyes were twinkling with delight. "Something you should be telling us, colonel?"

"From my mother," Jack replied, quickly adding, "For my birthday."

"Errr... isn't that the brand that's supposed to attract women?" Daniel asked with fake innocence.

"I have no idea," Jack answered, clearly lying. He turned to Daniel. "Attracting women will not however be your problem if you go around smelling like a fruit tree."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "O'Neill, would it not be a good thing for Daniel Jackson to smell unattractive to women given this recent mission?"

"Thank you, Teal'c!" Daniel said, indignantly. "Let me just remind you all I did nothing whatsoever to encourage that chieftain's daughter..."

"Oh pur-lease," Jack interjected. "You were batting your eyelids at her from the moment she appeared."

"Was not."

"Was so."

As Sam shook her head at her team mates verbal sparring, Teal'c took the bottle from Daniel and sniffed its contents. "Daniel Jackson is correct. The aroma is pleasing."

"Thank you, Teal'c." Daniel retrieved the bottle, and shoved it into a pocket of his backpack. "And thank you, Sam."

"You're welcome, Daniel." Sam shot him a quick smile.

Jack shook his head. "Bees and honeypots, Daniel. If it's not women, it'll be bugs. Don't expect me to bail you out if the next planet we visit has honking big bugs who love the smell of limes."

"No worries," Daniel replied, picking up his bag, crossed the room, and stepping into the hallway. With the open metal door between him and Jack he threw his parting comment into the room. "I'll be perfectly safe, Jack. I'll just stay downwind of you. "

He smirked at the distinctive sound of a damp towel hitting the door as he closed it.


The memory was so sharp, Daniel almost felt physical pain at the thought of his team-mates and the fact they were now missing. Squeezing out more gel, he massaged it into his hair, but was oblivious to the richly scented lather he produced. He should've been with them, not stuck in the infirmary while they risked their lives. Damn his appendix. Of all the times to put him flat on his back, it had to choose now.

God, how he missed them. Over the years they had become so much more than work colleagues. They were his friends, his family. Look at him, he couldn't even go through his morning routine without the everyday objects of his life reminding him of their presence, and now their absence, in his life. His razor, his shower gel... everything had somehow become infused with memories. The thought of going on without them... No, don't even think it.

They were survivors. As long as they had managed to gate somewhere with food and water they would be okay. Jack and Sam both had their airforce survival training, and Teal'c had his unique knowledge of goa'uld worlds. If anybody could make it through a week or so on an unknown planet, they could. Just as long as they made it off Thor's ship before it blew. Daniel closed his eyes and tilted his head upwards into the stream of water, letting it wash away both the unwelcome thought and the fragrant lather in his hair. Please God, let them have made it off the ship. Let them be alive. They have to be alive!

His body refreshed even if his mind wasn't, he turned off the water, carefully leaned out of the shower, still wary of the tenderness in his side, and snagged the towel from its rail. Moments later, his hair sticking up in damp spikes, he headed back to his bedroom and began to dress. A quick glance at the clock told him he had ten minutes before the staff car arrived for him; he still wasn't allowed to drive. Just about time to grab a coffee. He should probably eat something, but the thought of food was unappealing. His stomach was in a jitter at the prospect of what the day might hold. He could eat later.

Another shiver of anticipation ran through Daniel as he pulled on his clothes, nervous energy making him trip and stumble as he squirmed into his pants. Cursing he battled with socks, then his boots. Finally dressed he hurried into the kitchen, rushing through the actions of making a cup of instant coffee. It was barely palatable, but Daniel hardly noticed. The clock was ticking. It was nearly time to go.

When the doorbell rang, Daniel snatched up his jacket and almost launched himself out of his apartment. Please God, let today be the day they come home.



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