Jack was looking for Sam. Actually, to be more precise, Jack had looked for Sam in every room on the base she normally frequented and was starting to get worried. He frowned as he passed an airman in the corridor, not even noticing that his scowl was enough to make the poor kid stumble.
No--not worried. Worried would imply that he spent a lot of time thinking about Sam's habits, and he most certainly did not. Not any more than a good commanding officer would, at any rate.
But he'd checked her office, her lab, the commissary, Daniel's office (briefly, and from the door so Daniel wouldn't notice he was there), the gateroom, the storage closet on level 19--hey, it was possible that she had needed paper clips--, and the gym (even though he knew she always worked out earlier in the day), and there weren't many places left.
Well, there were a lot of places left, but nothing likely.
He was deep in thought, passing the infirmary, when Janet said the magic word,
"-- stupid, Sam," she said, and Jack stopped in his tracks.
Well, finally.
He started toward the infirmary again, now trying to remember what his exc--his question was. He'd had a question, somewhere back before level 19.
He slowed down before he reached the door, absolutely not so he could listen to their conversation.
Sam said, "I know, Janet. I didn't even think about it, really--I was calibrating the power input on that new device that SG-5 brought back from their last mission, and, well..."
Janet sighed. "Well, there's nothing I can do for it. You'll just have to let it heal."
Interest piqued, Jack finally poked his head around the door.
"Problem, Carter?" he asked.
Sam started and then looked guilty. "No, sir."
Jack raised his eyebrows, and Sam said, "Just a little bit of a mouth sore, sir."
Janet snorted, and Jack realized that she was trying not to laugh. He gave her his best "I need to know what's up with my officer" look, and she turned abruptly serious.
"I, ah...have to go get ready for another appointment," she said, and fled to her office.
Oops. Maybe he'd overdone the look. Well...might as well put it to good use. He turned it on Sam instead.
"Just what did you do to wind up in the infirmary from a mouth sore, Carter?"
Reluctantly, Sam said, "I stabbed myself with a candy cane, sir."
"You stabbed yourself with a candy cane?" Jack repeated.
He was not going to smile. He wasn't.
He didn't. Not quite.
Sam blushed. And tried to explain. "You know how the end gets sharp when you suck on it--"
Jack was nodding. Oh, this was good. Better than whatever he was going to ask her.
"So you got distracted, and then what?"
Sam closed her eyes. "The gate alarm went off."
"Uh huh."
"And it startled me," Sam added defensively.
Jack was grinning. He couldn't help it. Sam was obviously trying to come up with another rationalization, and failing.
Sam's eyes narrowed. "Just what were you doing outside the infirmary anyway, sir?" she asked suspiciously.
He waved a hand expansively. "I was--looking for you," he said. Honesty was the best--
"Why were you looking for me?"
Uh oh. "I wanted to ask you--" his mind went blank. "--something. But this reason is better," he finished, lamely.
Sam frowned. "Better? But--" and then it dawned on her. "Oh." She flushed again. "Oh."
Jack supposed that reaction was okay. He grinned.
Sam grinned back, then winced. "Ow."
Jack shoved his hands into his pockets. "So where did you stab yourself?"
Sam rolled her eyes. "Just my tongue. It's not even bleeding anymore." She hopped off the bed and they left the infirmary together, heading toward the commissary without another thought.
Sam/Jack, candy canes, G
No--not worried. Worried would imply that he spent a lot of time thinking about Sam's habits, and he most certainly did not. Not any more than a good commanding officer would, at any rate.
But he'd checked her office, her lab, the commissary, Daniel's office (briefly, and from the door so Daniel wouldn't notice he was there), the gateroom, the storage closet on level 19--hey, it was possible that she had needed paper clips--, and the gym (even though he knew she always worked out earlier in the day), and there weren't many places left.
Well, there were a lot of places left, but nothing likely.
He was deep in thought, passing the infirmary, when Janet said the magic word,
"-- stupid, Sam," she said, and Jack stopped in his tracks.
Well, finally.
He started toward the infirmary again, now trying to remember what his exc--his question was. He'd had a question, somewhere back before level 19.
He slowed down before he reached the door, absolutely not so he could listen to their conversation.
Sam said, "I know, Janet. I didn't even think about it, really--I was calibrating the power input on that new device that SG-5 brought back from their last mission, and, well..."
Janet sighed. "Well, there's nothing I can do for it. You'll just have to let it heal."
Interest piqued, Jack finally poked his head around the door.
"Problem, Carter?" he asked.
Sam started and then looked guilty. "No, sir."
Jack raised his eyebrows, and Sam said, "Just a little bit of a mouth sore, sir."
Janet snorted, and Jack realized that she was trying not to laugh. He gave her his best "I need to know what's up with my officer" look, and she turned abruptly serious.
"I, ah...have to go get ready for another appointment," she said, and fled to her office.
Oops. Maybe he'd overdone the look. Well...might as well put it to good use. He turned it on Sam instead.
"Just what did you do to wind up in the infirmary from a mouth sore, Carter?"
Reluctantly, Sam said, "I stabbed myself with a candy cane, sir."
"You stabbed yourself with a candy cane?" Jack repeated.
He was not going to smile. He wasn't.
He didn't. Not quite.
Sam blushed. And tried to explain. "You know how the end gets sharp when you suck on it--"
Jack was nodding. Oh, this was good. Better than whatever he was going to ask her.
"So you got distracted, and then what?"
Sam closed her eyes. "The gate alarm went off."
"Uh huh."
"And it startled me," Sam added defensively.
Jack was grinning. He couldn't help it. Sam was obviously trying to come up with another rationalization, and failing.
Sam's eyes narrowed. "Just what were you doing outside the infirmary anyway, sir?" she asked suspiciously.
He waved a hand expansively. "I was--looking for you," he said. Honesty was the best--
"Why were you looking for me?"
Uh oh. "I wanted to ask you--" his mind went blank. "--something. But this reason is better," he finished, lamely.
Sam frowned. "Better? But--" and then it dawned on her. "Oh." She flushed again. "Oh."
Jack supposed that reaction was okay. He grinned.
Sam grinned back, then winced. "Ow."
Jack shoved his hands into his pockets. "So where did you stab yourself?"
Sam rolled her eyes. "Just my tongue. It's not even bleeding anymore." She hopped off the bed and they left the infirmary together, heading toward the commissary without another thought.
"Bleeding? Cool."