Work Text:
Get a Life, People
by Orrymain
In his office, Jack stared at the note he'd been covertly handed earlier in the day when SG-1 had returned from a mission. As was becoming his pattern, Jack was waiting in the gate room for the return of his flagship team.
~Have to see for myself that Danny's in one piece. Why'd I ever agree to be a general? Oh, yeah. Salary. Parking spaces. Fear of getting some dork like Bauer to run SGC.~
Jack had only been a general for a short while and was actually still adjusting to the change in his duties. He hadn't been off-world since the promotion, and he missed it already, especially since he couldn't keep an eye on his lover. That was an even tougher shoe to chew right now, considering the current situation.
The flagship team had come under fire during their mission to PR9-221 by a band of Jaffa under Ba'al's control. They were on the run to the Stargate, hoping to get there in time.
~You'd better be in one piece, Daniel.~ Jack sighed, staring impatiently at the Stargate as the fifth chevron locked in place. ~Come on; come on.~
The three-person team had been gone for six hours, checking out a rumor that a new System Lord was building up forces there. As it turned out, it wasn't a new Goa'uld, but Ba'al, who was using the locals as slaves. Some of the inhabitants had been infested by the parasitical evildoers, but others were simply forced to do their bidding.
SG-1 had made contact with some of the locals, found the Goa'ulds' home base on the planet, and blown it up. Their only regret had been that Ba'al wasn't there to die in the blast; that is, it was their only regret until on their way back to the Stargate, they'd been attacked by an army of Jaffa.
Fortunately, the team had been able to stay ahead of their enemies, killing several in a battle about two miles out from the Stargate.
From their position guarding the Gate, SG-3 had relayed the information to Stargate Command, advising them that SG-1 believed they were free and clear, but weren't wasting any time, either.
~What's taking so friggin' long?~ Jack mentally complained, fighting the urge to fidget. He knew a lot could go wrong. Either team could be attacked at any time, but he was relying on SG-1 to make it through okay. He'd opened the iris based on the information the flagship team had given SG-3. ~I want all of my people back on good ole terra firma now.~
Finally, the kawoosh exploded above the metal ramp. Jack put his hands in his pants, trying to look calm and cool. He coughed softly as he waited anxiously for his team to step through the Gate. Eyes were on the event horizon, and on him.
“Well, it's about time!” Jack snapped, a bit agitated when Sam, Daniel, and Teal'c finally walked through the Gate, followed by SG-3.
“Believe me, General, we got back as quickly as we could,” Sam responded, her P-90 still at the ready as she glanced back at the Stargate, seeing the iris closing behind her.
Daniel put his Beretta back in its holster, glanced back at the now-closed Stargate, and pronounced, “That was close.”
“O'Neill, I believe Ba'al will return to this planet.”
“We'll cover it in the briefing, Teal'c. Thirty minutes,” the general ordered, giving a shooing motion with his hands. With everyone filtering out of the room, Jack asked casually, “Danny, are you okay?”
“Oh, sure. I had a great time being a moving target. You should go off-world with us; have some fun,” Daniel scoffed lightly, grinning at his general.
“You're okay,” Jack deduced, a smile on his face as he walked away and towards his office, his heart beating a bit more securely now that he knew his husband hadn't been injured. ~I don't think I’ll ever get used to this.~
====
“We'll send SG-3 back to the planet to do a follow-up next week,” Jack informed the personnel, concluding the hour-long debriefing.
Standing, Daniel brushed by his husband, covertly handing him a note.
**What's this?**
**Read it, Lover Boy.**
**Lover Boy?**
Now in the corridor, Daniel looked through the window and smiled, but said nothing an response.
~Smart aleck archaeologist: cute, adorable, sexy, frustrating, and totally mine!~
Jack went to his office and shut the door. After sitting down at his desk, he read the note:
“For one very good Lover Boy there is a special night in store. Be in paradise at six sharp. Don't be late or all you'll be sucking on is hard candy!”
Jack grinned in anticipation.
~What do you have planned, Danny? Trust me. This general is *so* not going to be late. Not gonna happen; not tonight!~
Jack reviewed his schedule. It was 1215 hours now. He had several appointments in the afternoon, but the last was at 1630. He knew it should only take ten or fifteen minutes tops. Then, he'd have fifteen minutes to make his escape, or rather his exit from the Mountain. Normally, it took forty minutes to drive home, but Jack wanted to allow an extra twenty minutes in case traffic was bad.
His romantic and sexual appetites hungering, Jack forced himself to focus on the issues needing his attention. He opened a file.
~Oh, come on. This *has* to be a joke! Who cares whether we buy Charmin or Angel Soft?~ Not about to have his night interrupted by toilet paper nonsense, the general bellowed, “*Walter*!”
====
Jack glanced at his watch, not caring whether or not SG-11's archaeologist saw him, and questioned commandingly, “Doctor Shelton, I assume all of this will be in your written report?”
“Y...yes, General,” the man stammered, slightly intimidated by the general’s bark.
“Good, then let's try this again, and this time, just give me the important parts. You know, the stuff that ...” Jack paused. He was going to say 'puts me to sleep and makes me miss my hot date with my husband,' but he quickly realized neither part of that silent thought would be appropriate. Instead, he continued, “is absolutely crucial for me to know now.”
Shelton nodded and proceeded to give a shortened version of what the writings he had found on the temple could mean. He concluded with his recommendation that SG-11 be allowed to return for a prolonged study of the ruins.
“Pending approval of Doctor Jackson,” Jack began, ~which you can get anytime the day after tomorrow,~ he thought, “you have a go.”
Since the assignment would be one based in archaeology and anthropology, Daniel would get to make the final recommendation on whether or not the mission would get the go-ahead. Jack was aware that his lover had already left the Mountain for the day, and since both men had the next day off, he knew that Shelton would be unable to interfere with the couple's plans.
~Gotta love the perks of this job.~
Being able to arrange matching schedules was something Jack liked, especially right now. In fact, the lovers had decided to make tomorrow their Valentine's Day for the year. They'd missed the actual day.
~Frozen like a Popsicle,~ Jack sighed as he thought back to his recent experience of being kept in an Ancient cryogenic chamber. He watched Shelton disappear from his sight and then picked up the next file that demanded his attention. ~Why'd I let Daniel talk me into letting him go to that icy death hole?~
One of the reasons the lovers had decided to make the next day extra special was that Daniel was about to leave for Antarctica for a couple of weeks. He would be working with Doctor Elizabeth Weir and her team to see if they could discover the location of Atlantis.
~Stop thinking about it, O'Neill. No point torturing yourself. You have thirty quality hours with Danny coming up; focus on that.~
====
“General, Doctor Lee needs to see you,” Sergeant Davis stated hesitantly from the doorway of Jack's office.
“About what?” Jack questioned suspiciously, not knowing what to expect from the scientist this time around.
“I'm not sure.”
With a bit of a growl, the general headed for the scientist's lab. He was almost afraid to go there. After all, the last time he'd spoken with Bill Lee, plants had practically overtaken the entire SGC.
“You rang?” Jack asked a bit abruptly as he entered the lab.
“It's over here, General,” the sometimes timid yet still assertive scientist advised, leading Jack over to the far corner of the room.
Jack stared for a moment and then cocked his head. Then he stared some more.
“What is it?”
“I'm not exactly sure,” Lee admitted, scratching his chin.
“Why am I here?” the general questioned impatiently.
“Well ...”
“Doctor Lee, I'm a busy man. I've got things to do ... like comb my cowlick. *What's* the problem?”
“SG-14 brought these back from PR8-129,” Lee began. “We weren't sure what they were at first. Creighton thought they were jumping beans. You know ... Mexican jumping beans?”
“Since when did Mexico relocate to a planet on the other side of the galaxy?”
Lee coughed and continued, “They're not Mexican jumping beans.”
“I *know* that! What are they?”
Just then, a scream was heard outside the corridor of Doctor Lee's lab, prompting Jack to sprint out to see what the problem was.
“Whoa!” Jack exclaimed as he skidded to a halt.
In front of a female airman, six 'beans' were jumping all around her. They bounced from the floor to the ceiling, and they were surrounding her. Every time she attempted to run, they'd leapfrog ahead of her.
“Pull out one of those panels!” Jack ordered some airmen as he pointed to a side area where work was being done to repair a portion of the wall.
Rushing over, the men took hold of three replacement panels and used them as shields. The sounds of the beans hitting against the shields reminded Jack of popcorn kernels popping.
Quickly, Jack escorted the woman out of harm's way and directed her to the infirmary to make sure she was uninjured.
“Doctor Lee!” Jack yelled over the sound of popping kernels.
“Creighton brought back a can full of those things. We thought they were harmless.”
Jack glared while walking purposefully towards the scientist, who retreated until he hit the wall.
“Doctor Lee, I want those ... jumping beans *off* my base -- now!” Without waiting for a response, the general turned on his heel and returned to his office. ~Some days are just not worth getting out of bed for.~
====
With two of his afternoon meetings handled, Jack was about to prepare for this third scheduled appointment when his phone rang.
“O'Neill ... yes, Chef.” Jack shook his head. The chef was really a sergeant with an attitude. ~Put a man in charge of the mess hall, and he thinks he's Wolfgang Puck.~ He brought up his hand to rub his forehead, something that felt appropriate considering the headache he felt coming on. “Maybe Uncle Ben went fishing. Try Pasta Roni ... I know it's not the same ... Chef, just use another brand.”
Jack groaned as he hung up the phone and then leaned his head against his arms as they rested on the end of his desk. He thought back to the letter he'd written to General Hammond less than a week ago. He'd resigned in the letter, but after getting a show of support from the personnel, he'd written 'Never mind' on the printed letter. Hammond had called after receiving it, reassuring the silver-haired general that he'd adapt to the demands of the job with time and that he believed Jack was the best man for the job.
Just as he convinced himself to move on, Sergeant Davis appeared at his door again.
“Sir ...”
“Walter, can you 'Never mind' a 'Never mind'?”
“Uh ...”
“Never mind,” Jack sighed in exasperation. “What is it now?”
“Sir, Doctor Lee ...”
“... is on his way to a court-martial,” Jack finished, really getting annoyed with said doctor.
“He can't be court-martialed, Sir,” the sergeant pointed out.
“Why not?”
“He's not military,” Davis replied, trying to hide his growing smile.
“I'm amending the rules,” Jack snarked. “What is it now?”
“The jumping beans are multiplying.”
“Multiplying?” Jack questioned with widened eyes. “Give me strength,” he requested of a higher power as he stood and once again headed for Lee's lab. ~These beans better not take over my base like the Tribbles did on the Enterprise.~
====
“I thought I told you to get those things off my base?” Jack questioned Doctor Lee upon entering the man's lab. ~This is not the lab I want to be entering. I wonder if we can quarantine Doctor Lee and his lab to some asteroid somewhere,~ the general pondered about ways he could alleviate this particular scientific thorn in his side.
“We've learned something,” Lee stated eagerly.
“Like it's time to go bury your nose in some book at Harvard?” Jack snarked, his emphasis when speaking the name of the great university sounding very Bostonian and snobbish.
Ignoring the question, Lee continued enthusiastically, explaining to the general that the beans multiplied only when agitated, and there was a commonality about when this happened.
“Look.” Lee walked over by the can of six jumping beans. Nothing happened. “Colonel,” he called out to Sam, who had just arrived and really didn't know much about what was happening. “See, nothing.”
“What's your point?” Jack asked pointedly.
“Sir, please,” Lee beckoned.
Jack wasn't happy, but he went along. He walked over and stood over the beans. Again, nothing happened.
“And I did this ... because?”
“They don't react to baldness, brunettes, blondes, or gray,” Lee pointed out.
Jack's head whipped around, and he glared at the scientist until he finally corrected, “Silver. My hair is silver.”
“Okay, they don't react to silver,” Lee amended. ~Oh, touchy.~
“Doctor Lee, what is the point?” Jack asked sharply. ~And is there something pointy nearby that I can jab you with?~
“Airman Devine?” Lee called out.
Devine was the airman who had been surrounded by the jumping beans before. As soon as she entered the lab and walked to within two feet of the can, the beans started to sizzle and jump. With Lee's nod, the woman was quickly escorted out.
“They don't like redheads?” Sam asked her colleague.
“I'm not sure how they know, but anyone with a shade of true red in their hair gets a response.”
“Doctor Lee,” Jack interjected brusquely, “I don't care why they jump. I don't want them on this base. I am ordering you to take these things back to where they came from. Sergeant!”
Immediately, an armed sergeant entered the room.
“You are to see to it that my orders are carried out within the next ten minutes. Failure is not an option, unless you like working amid icicles.” Jack began to walk out, but he looked back and reiterated, “Get them through the Stargate -- now!”
====
“Ay!” Jack responded to the latest problem at Cheyenne Mountain. “Can't you people decide on anything without me?”
“General Hammond oversaw everything, Sir,” the sergeant currently in charge of maintenance replied.
“Fine,” Jack snarled. “What are the choices?”
“Chartreuse or fuchsia, or ...”
Jack turned around, holding out his hand when the sergeant called after him.
“General ...”
“Flip a friggin' coin,” Jack ordered and then walked briskly away.
“But ... Sir? *General!*”
====
Jack's last appointment had just been concluded, and he'd been assured that all of the jumping beans, including the newborns, so to speak, had been accounted for and returned to the planet. He'd also, reluctantly, chosen fuchsia to be the primary color of the special decor for the upcoming visit of a female dignitary.
~Time to go, get, skidoo, scramble, leave, ex...~
“General,” Sergeant Davis called out from beyond the doorway.
“Walter, why are you standing way out there?”
“It's safer, Sir.”
“What now?” Jack groaned.
“There's a pen shortage.”
“Say again,” the general requested in utter disbelief.
“They've been disappearing in bunches over the last month, General. Now we seem to be out.”
“No pens?”
“None, Sir, except what we already ... have,” Davis said, his body moving to the side as he spied three pens atop Jack's desk.
The Special Ops officer caught the sergeant's eye movements. All of his sudden, his ordinary pens felt like pure diamonds. Taking the pens and putting them safely in his pocket, Jack then locked his desk drawer and picked up his jacket. He walked through the open doorway and stopped only when he was towering in his most intimidating manner over his main assistant at the Mountain.
“Walter, I expect my office and all of its contents to be intact when I come back, or potatoes will roll. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I'm holding you *personally* responsible. Potatoes, Walter.”
“Your pens are safe with me,” Walter Davis assured, the sergeant having no desire to peel potatoes anytime soon. Seeing his commanding officer walking away, Davis called out, “What about the pen shortage?”
“Use pencils.”
Jack began to walk away when Walter Davis cleared his throat and called out, “General O'Neill?”
The silver-haired man's eyes closed, and his face grew taut as he turned to face Davis and inquired, “Walter?”
“Uh, General, it's about the night shift.”
“What about the night shift?” Jack sing-songed sarcastically.
“They're complaining that there isn't enough action, and they ...”
All of a sudden, Jack brushed by Sergeant Davis and went to the tannoy, turning it on so that it would echo throughout the base.
With carefully selected words, Jack tersely spoke, “Now hear this! There will be no movies tonight until the general's palm tree is returned, and all desserts will be locked up in the freezer until my strawberries are found.” Pausely for two seconds, he groaned. “Listen up, people. This is the most secure Air Force base in the universe. Get yourselves together. You have brains; I expect you to use them. If you don't have the circuits to know to use a pencil if you're out of pens, you don't belong here, and if you need to be entertained during your shift, believe me, that can be arranged -- in Siberia. Now get your F'in minds on the job, and for crying out loud, get a life, People!”
With that, Jack flipped off the tannoy, gave Walter a 'not one more word' look, and then headed towards the locker room to change out of his BDU and into his street clothes.
~I really need to get Hammond back here.~
====
“You're kidding?” Daniel chuckled.
“It was like a B-movie, Danny -- The Attack of the Alien Jumping Beans. No redheads were safe.”
“I think I'm glad I wasn't there.”
“My hair isn't gray,” Jack whined.
Daniel smiled and soothed, “Your hair is the most sophisticated and suave silver-gray. It's just how I like it. You know that.”
The seductive air in his Love's voice had just about turned Jack's wobbling knees into mush, but then he remembered they did have one more serious matter to handle.
“Uh, about Creighton.”
“I'll talk to him,” the archaeologist reassured. Daniel saw his lover's continued stare, which clearly said he wanted more. “We'll review the rules about ... touching things and ...” He paused, seeing Jack's focus growing even stronger. “We'll pull him off the rotation for a couple of months to make sure he really ... gets it.”
“That'll do it,” Jack agreed lightly as he walked forward and took Daniel into his arms. After they kissed, he sighed, “Why am I the general? I don't want to be the man, Danny, especially not when it comes to ... rice and pens.”
“You're a great general, Jack.”
“I haven't done much yet.”
“You will. I believe in you,” Daniel proclaimed softly, his fingers playing with the thin strands at the base of his Love's neck.
“You don't even like the military.”
“No,” Daniel concurred, his head shaking automatically. “No, I don't, but I do like you. In fact, I love you.”
“That makes me the luckiest man in the universe,” Jack replied happily.
“Now, are we done?”
“Done?”
“Done,” Daniel echoed. “I mean, uh, if you need to vent some more about Bill's beans and things, we can, or we can ... you know.”
With a grin, Jack replied, “Angel, you know you are all I want. Bill who? What beans?”
The lovers kissed and from that moment on, enjoyed a full thirty hours of nothing but each other. It was their own special Valentine's Day, during which both were reminded of just how much they were loved by the other. Their nation of two was alive and thriving.
~~Finis - Finished - Done - The End - But is it ever Really?~~