Love, and a cough, cannot be hid.
Jacula Prudentum
Runny nose, watery eyes, scratchy throat …… and that's the least of my problems. I can’t believe how long Daniel can talk about everything and nothing at the same time. I think he does it on purpose just to drive me nuts. I’ve caught a suspiciously smug look tossed in my direction a couple of times during this never-ending bore-a-thon. The word of the day is brief, Daniel, brief. They call it that for a freaking reason. Go look it up. It’s right next to ‘Get me the hell out of here.’
I am so going to get even if I find out he’s dragging this out on purpose. Oh God, not the monarchical system of government in Mesopotamian monasteries. He’s making this up. I swear to God, he’s making it up as he goes along just to get even with me for catching him cheating at Scrabble the other night. I mean geeze does he think I’m a total idiot and wouldn’t challenge a word like balbriggan. Yeah right, Daniel, cotton used to make underwear in Ireland. You’ve got to be kidding. O’Neill, remember- Irish. Not a not a chance, Jackson. You’d think a linguist would remember that. Besides it would have screwed up my triple word score for bat. Ha. Balbriggan, my backside. And don’t think you took me in for a second with that wide-eyed innocent puppy dog look. It wasn’t like you didn’t have another word to play. Beg is a word. Okay, not in my vocabulary it isn’t, but it’s okay for you.
Shit, I think I’m dying here. I can’t breath. My head hurts. My eyes are watering. For crying out loud, Carter quit looking at me like that. I am not crying! My eyes are watering. Big difference. Oh God, she’s got that look. That one that says, ‘Don’t worry, sir, I’ll save the world even though I don’t have a clue how.’ It’s either that or the one she gave me the last time I tried to order for her at O'Malley’s. Scary either way. I’d glare at her, but the way I’m tearing up, she’d probably try to pat me on the back. This is ridiculous. Every time I cough, she gives me that scientific glare that says she’s calculating the number of pairs of breeding germs that I’ve just infested in the room.
Great, sneezing now. Yes, Teal’c. I do require assistance here. Where’s the damn box of Kleenex? Better locate it fast Big Guy, or I’m gonna gross everybody out and use my sleeve. Yep, BDU ... beak dripping unavoidably. That’s what’s gonna happen. I’m warning ya. Don’t give me that superior I-am-in-perfect-health attitude. You lose the snake and I’d like to see how you’d deal with this. Better yet, let Junior get a cold and let’s see some of that Goa’uld supremacy crap then. Now that’s something Carter and her techno-geeks should be working on. If we could figure out a way to spread the common cold among the system lords we’d have them begging for mercy inside a week. Whiny ass bunch of god wanna- a-bees. Not that I’m whining, of course. USAF colonels do not whine. In fact the only whine in Jack O’Neill’s vocabulary is a nice Chardonnay with dinner.
The ever ready bunny of the SGC is still going and going and going. When is he going to shut-up? Teal’c, be a buddy and yank his batteries. Would somebody please tell me what Homer and Hesiod attribution to the gods has to do with anything? Oh, that’s so below the belt, Daniel. I get it. Homer is attributed as a god. You just can’t accept that it takes a person of keen wit to appreciate The Simpsons, can you, Danny Boy? Always cutting down the finer things of life. We're talking icon. Marge Simpson is a diva.
No, I don’t have anything to contribute, General. I’m just clearing my throat for the seventy-seventh time in this briefing to keep it from closing up. You wouldn’t like it much if your 2IC keeled over dead during a briefing would you? The paperwork would be a bitch, eh sir. General, permission to shoot Daniel if he doesn’t shut up. No really, I could shoot him for you, General. Just one shot. Quick and clean. No problem, sir. Really.
Yes. Alert the media campers, it looks like Daniel is finally winding down. Thought I was gonna have to go shave again if he didn’t finish soon. Carter’s turn. No, no, no. Her notes look like a freaking novel. What’d she do rewrite War and Peace? Had to give Tolstoy a run for his money didn’t ya, Carter? Show Leo up a bit. How do you spell overachiever? We are so going to have a talk about the meaning of the word brief. Great, she’s smiling again. Wonder if my head hitting the table would disturb anyone? Probably not.
Buck up, Jack. You can get through this. Ignore it. Concentrate. You’re special force trained. So your eyes itch, your nose is running, your throat is scratchy. You’ve been through worse. Sometime...somewhere. Maybe.
I’m going to kill the sadistic son of a bitch who gave Hammond that damn aftershave for Christmas and set off my allergies.
Author’s Notes: Just for fun. Dedicated to all the stuffy-head, runny nosed, watery eyed SG-1 fans with sore throats everywhere. Just remember Spring’s cumbin.
© December 4, 2002 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.