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




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 5 - Enemies
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Janet needs a distraction
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, he isn't mine, but I wish he was... plus the usual MGM are great and worthy.
Author's Notes: I started this in a dull moment at work a couple of months back, then completely forgot about it until I stumbled over it last week. Some may say it might have been better to leave it forgotten<g>


She hated housework. All that dusting and polishing, cleaning and vacuuming. It always seemed so pointless. A battle she could never win. She did what needed to be done, though. Nobody could ever accuse Janet Frasier of being slovenly, although at times, particularly before Cassie arrived in her life, she had to admit she sometimes came damn close.

In the infirmary, however, she had a zero tolerance policy on dirt. Of course, she also had staff to do the hard work for her. It wasn't often she actually donned rubber gloves and set to with mop and bucket. Which was why she was somewhat alarmed to find herself in the infirmary bathroom, scrubbing the limescale off the frosted glass of the shower doors and polishing the stainless steel shower heads until they glistened. She'd already cleaned all the toilet stalls and was now in the shower at the furthest end of a row of three. Well, there were worse ways to spend a morning and at least a cleaning frenzy had to be a better form of stress therapy than smoking or eating cookies - both of which she'd battled with ever since SG-1 had gone missing in action. Again.

Their absence was like an itch she couldn't scratch. Or like when you're not really hungry but your teeth ache to sink themselves into a doughnut. An indefinable need that was constantly present and yet as intangible as a rainbow of light shimmering in the spray of a fountain. God, she missed them.

Sam's absence was the sharpest. Janet hated walking into the mess hall knowing Sam wouldn't be there to gossip about Cassie's latest boyfriend or to provide a ready ear for the newest nugget of information about who was dating who behind who's back. But there was more to it than simply girly chat. Over the years, Sam had become her confident in so many matters she was shocked to discover she how reliant she had become on discussing things with her. Not that Janet wasn't perfectly capable of making decisions on her own. It was just that, well, it was sometimes easier to work out why she was making a decision - and whether it was the right one - after she'd rambled on to a sympathetic ear.

Then there was Teal'c. There was something so solid, so reassuring about the Jaffa that despite the fact he said little and rarely crossed her path, she felt his absence as keenly as any of the other members of the team. She knew it was stupid notion, but somehow, without him, the SGC seemed less substantial - as though someone had somehow stretched it like a bubblegum bubble until certain areas became almost transparent. Even the air smelt different - the subtle aroma of burning candles no longer permeated the corridor near his quarters or drifted through the air conditioning bringing reminders of winter evenings and quiet dinners.

As for Daniel. Well, there were times when she wished Daniel wasn't quite such a frequent visitor to the infirmary. He did, for example, seem to have any uncanny knack of pissing off goa'uld with ribbon devices. His argument that he was simply helping her to practice what she'd learnt - not to mention the pathetic jokes about her practising medicine - was hardly justification for getting his brain fried at every available opportunity.

There were, however, other times when his arrival in the infirmary was a welcome relief from the day-to-day boredom of dealing with stock-taking and paperwork. Strange how often she'd glanced up at the door over the past few days, hoping to see him unbuckling his belt as he strolled into the infirmary complaining it was time she found a permanent cure for his allergies and did she know just how tired he was of having his butt used as a pin cushion. She smiled at the thought. One day he was going to find out his arm would serve perfectly well, but since he'd just assumed he should drop his pants on arrival ever since his first shot she hadn't had the heart to disappoint her nurses by telling him otherwise.

She sighed heavily. Heck, she'd even missed her weekly run in with Colonel O'Neill. She'd had a really good one liner ready for their next meeting too. Oh God! Please let her have the opportunity to use it. Not that she wanted to get one up on him, she just wanted to see his face again - to watch those brown eyes crinkle with amusement as he came back at her with some snappy comment. He was probably the worst person to have as a patient - grouchy didn't even begin to describe him - but right now she'd be only to happy to wait on him hand and foot so long as he was safe and sound in one of the infirmary beds instead of lost somewhere out in the universe. Or worse -- No! She wasn't even going to think about that option. The Tok'Ra might be in the running for the Pessimists of the Universe award, but this was SG-1 they were talking about. SG-1 always came back. Always!

She picked up the spray gun of cleaning fluid and aimed it at a particularly stubborn teardrop shaped blemish.

"Take that," she announced, letting fly with a blast of pine-scented liquid.

The mock violence felt good. Janet raised the gun and took aim at another stain.

"Here's mud in your eye, Apophis."


"Sweet talk your way out of this, Hathor!"


"Touch my team and see what you get, Chronos."


A deep Texan voice startled her. "Doctor Fraiser? Are you all right?"

She whirled round to find General Hammond watching her with quiet amusement. Heat flushed up her neck.

"Yes, Sir. Just... ummm... cleaning, sir."

He smiled gently. "I have news. I wanted to tell you personally."

Her heart lurched. "SG-1?"

He nodded. "They're on their way home."

"Thank God! Are they okay?"

"All I know, doctor, is that they are alive and heading for Earth. As soon as I hear more I'll let you know. In the meantime," Hammond's gaze swept the bathroom. "Well, I was going to suggest you prepare for their return, but from the immaculate state of the infirmary, and now in here, it looks like you already have."

Janet felt herself flush even more. "You could say that, sir."

Hammond nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'll leave you to it then doctor."

"Thank you, sir."

Janet turned back to the shower cubicle and gathered up her cleaning tools as the general headed back towards the infirmary. She quickly threw the bottles of bleach and cleaner into the bucket, snapped off her gloves and smoothed her hair. Time to check on SG-1's medical files, so she could ensure they got any booster injections they needed. Daniel would almost certainly be in need of more anti-histamine and Colonel O'Neill had probably completely ignored her advice about vitamin supplements.

Her mind was whirring though facts and figures, but as she stepped back into the infirmary, her spirits finally got the better of her and she let lose an ecstatic 'Yee-hah!'

Almost immediately there was the sound of a toilet being flushed and a deep Texan voice sounded from the bathroom. "I heard that, doctor."

Oh no! Hammond had obviously dived into one of the stalls and in her haste she hadn't noticed. Janet winced as she turned and found him exiting the bathroom. Oh boy! She was going to be in for it now. Up on charges for impersonating a senior officer at the very least.

"Sir! I -- umm -- I --"

The general gave a throaty chuckle. "Don't worry Doctor. I fully agree with the sentiment. You didn't quite get that pitch right though. It goes more like this." He drew in a deep breath and let rip with a 'yee-hah' that all but had the bottles dancing on the drug rack."

Janet blinked in disbelief before giving into the smile that was pulling at the corners of her mouth. "I'll try to remember that, sir."

"See that you do, Doctor," Hammond replied amicably, heading towards the door. "See that you do."



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