****
“So, what happened next, Daniel?”
Geez, honestly, I get no respect! Carter’s grinning inanely and leaning on the RV’s breakfast table excitedly waiting to hear Daniel’s colourful answer.
“Well, Jack tried to fool Dr Warner into keeping him in the infirmary overnight by getting Teal’c to distract him with talk of an alien incursion. He then failed to get his pathetically well rehearsed ‘I’m really dying’ speech past Janet and then spinelessly capitulated when faced with her seething wrath. He had to admit to her that although he was more than a bit sore from the beating he took on Bedrosia, the real reason he wanted to stay in the infirmary was because he wasn’t okay enough to drive and he didn’t want anyone else driving his truck.”
“Really?! What did Janet say?”
“She smiled evilly and released him on certain conditions; that I drive him home. So, faced with Janet’s insistence that if he stay he would be fitted with a large catheter, he finally had to just give in and let me take him home, which of course meant letting me drive his little baby.”
“Hey, I did not spinelessly capitulate, Daniel, and I’ll have you know my truck is a breakthrough in modern engineering. Not to mention she’s great lookin’, she loves to go fishing at the cabin, purrs when I give her some throttle, handles my rod and tackle like a pro, and she doesn’t like to be touched by anyone but me!”
“We are still talking about your truck aren’t we, Sir?”
Ha ha, Carter!
We all cast a questioning look at Teal’c as he slowly starts to peel his banana with obvious relish, muttering, “One skin.” With a collective shrug, we decide to let it slide. Must be a Jaffa thing.
“Then what happened, Daniel?”
“Well, I hadn’t gone as far as taking off the parking break before Mr. Backseat Driver over here starts dealing out pointers.”
“She has to be handled in a certain way.”
“I understand completely, Sir.”
“You do, Carter?”
Hey, maybe I’ll get some respect after all.
“Yes, Sir. My motorbike is very special to me. He’s big, hard, powerful, exciting, he drives me wild, and he doesn’t have a break down when I tinker with his fuel hose.”
Or… maybe not. You know, that wasn’t bad, she started off with a straight face, but lost it around ‘drives me wild’. Daniel and Carter are now leaning into each other as the giggles rack their clever little scientific bodies.
“Two skin.”
What is up with Teal’c?
“What happened then, Daniel?”
Damn, I thought we’d moved away from this story.
“Yes, right, well, I managed to get Jack and his baby back home in one piece, and I turned into his driveway only to have Jack suddenly screaming at me to stop.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think, Carter? He crashed into a tree!”
“I did not!”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“You so did.”
“Jack, it was a tiny little twig of a branch and I never even touched it.”
Mmmphh.
“So, anyway, for someone too injured to drive, Jack jumped out and ran round to my side, dragged me bodily out of his truck, pried open my hand and swiftly divested me of the keys, all the while muttering ‘never again’. He then left me sprawled on the drive while he proceeded to caress the damn truck.”
“You knocked Daniel to the ground, Sir?”
“Honestly, Sam, he was stroking it. I thought he was going to start making out with it, and whispering, ‘My precciousssss!”
This is so unfair!
“Three skin.”
“Teal’c, buddy, what the hell are you doing?”
“Removing the skin from this banana, O’Neill. Is that not the correct course of action if I am to eat it?”
“Well, yeah, but what’s with all the counting?”
“It is an important ritual, is it not?”
“What?”
“Major Ferretti kindly informed me that it is an ancient Earth tradition to peel this fruit in four stages, counting each time.”
“Uh… I think he may have been yanking your crank, T.”
“I see. Is that why Major Ferretti and the rest of his team begin to laugh when I reach four skin?”
Oh great. Just swell. Now I’m covered in Daniel’s spit and coffee, Carter’s had to retreat to the back of the RV for fear of laughing up her breakfast, and Teal’c’s nonchalantly munching on his freshly peeled banana.
I think I’ve been had.
See! I get no respect.
****
****
“Please, Jack.”
“I said no, Daniel.”
“Pleeeeease!”
“No. Now get down from there.”
I’m not being mean. I’m not, honestly. It’s just that we’re visiting Stonehenge today and then we’re heading west to a campsite in somewhere called Cornwall. The ensuing tantrum has occurred because Daniel wants to drive the RV and he’s currently parked himself in the driver’s seat.
It’s not that I have a problem with him driving, even after him crashing my truck into a tree. It’s just… well… you see I’m older and wiser, and more experienced at driving large vehicles… and… um. I’m not a control freak, honestly, it’s just that I’m in charge, it’s my responsibility… and… oh, leave me alone.
“Pleeeease, Jack.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Come on Jack, you need to think of something other than, ‘because I said so’. There has to be a good reason.
“Jack, please let me drive.”
Got it!
“Daniel, it’s out of my hands. There’s a minimum age limit for driving a rented vehicle in a foreign country and you’re just not old enough. Sorry, Buddy, but the answer’s no.”
Way to go, O’Neill! And they say Carter’s a genius!
“Jack, the minimum age is 25.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m 35!”
Crap!
“The answer’s still no.”
“But, I want to!”
“Stamping your feet won’t help, Daniel.”
“You’re so mean, Jack!”
Oh, here we go - arms crossed, bottom lip out about as far as I’ve ever seen it, and that wonderfully wounded expression Daniel’s perfected that would make anyone who didn’t know him think I’d just run over his dog.
“It’s not going to work this time, Danny Boy. The three of us are impervious to your doe eyes and quivering bottom lip. Right, guys?”
“O’Neill, if you do not release the keys into Daniel Jackson’s possession immediately, and cease your bullish behaviour, I will be forced to remove them from you by force.”
“He’s right, Sir. Give the keys to Daniel or I’m relieving you of command under the grounds that you’re no longer fit.”
See what I have to deal with? Daniel turns on the ‘look what Jack’s done now’ expression and Master Chain Mail Pants and Major Big Sister come leaping to his defence.
The moment they turn their backs he’ll stick his tongue out, you just wait.
There you go! Sneaky bastard.
No respect, I tell ya!
****
Part 3:
I really, really need to sit down.
You know that feeling when your lower back starts pleading for any position other than standing, and the heels of your feet start begging for a few minutes of relief? Well, that gets worse as you get older, and I had that feeling two hours ago. My knees have now joined in the insistent chorus, and I still haven’t been able to comply with their orders.
“Although we’re not exactly sure who they were, it’s evident that the builders of Stonehenge had a sound grasp of astronomy. Before they began their work they determined exactly where the midsummer's sun would rise, and possibly when a great many other astronomical events would occur, and they expressed that knowledge in stone.”
We’ve been dragged around Stonehenge now for a full four hours. Daniel is insisting on giving us a complete tour, along with imparting every microscopic piece of information he has squirreled away in his humungous brain.
We’ve even picked up some tourists. They probably think Daniel is a tour guide, so they’re following us around and hanging onto his every word. They’re even asking him loads of questions. He’s in heaven, I can tell.
“…. therefore, the alignment of certain stones marks various solar or lunar events, the most obvious being the summer solstice.”
Carter was starting to look a little glazed around the edges too, so we did manage to escape for half an hour to look around the gift shop, and I managed to find the perfect gift for Daniel. It’s a mug with a picture of Stonehenge that says ‘My career is in ruins’. He’ll love it!
I also saw two metal badges in the shop for Daniel, which I just couldn’t resist. So, with the assistance of my expert team, coupled with my extensive special ops training, I managed to herd Daniel away from his admiring pack of fellow geeks long enough to apply said badges to his shirt. He was so keen to get back to his adoring and deeply absorbed flock, that he barely noticed what I’d done. We then took the brief opportunity to have a team picture taken in front of this honkin’ great big piece of ancient history. It’s gonna be a classic! I’m framing this when I get home. Daniel’s wearing the two badges, one that says, ‘Hug me, I’m an Archaeologist!’, and one that says, ‘Archaeologists do it in the dirt!’ Ha ha!!
By then, I had to release our struggling genius back into his natural habitat before he was too badly affected by his brief stint in captivity and subsequent photo shoot. He’s still cluelessly wearing the badges and I can see a few people sniggering in the back. Niice!
“Okay, thanks for waiting. Now, the stones that form the outer ring are about 50 tons each. It is estimated that about 600 men would have been needed to get each stone up the hill.”
Right, I have really got to sit down. Ooh, goody, there’s a bench. Damn it all to hell, there are people already on it.
Ah, Teal’c’s on the case. Good man.
“Please vacate this seating area immediately.”
Yep, that’ll work!
Ah, my poor knees. Have you ever noticed that when you get older, you find yourself having to moan and sigh whenever you sit down, stand up or bend over? It must be something that’s built-in for when you hit your forties.
“How you doin’, T?
“I am finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate, O’Neill.”
“Yeah, it’s called abject boredom.”
“Indeed.”
Listen, I’m not saying this 5000-year-old Lego set is not impressive, but we have completed at least eight circuits around the ol’ gal so far, and Daniel may even be gearing up for another turn. I’ve already tried looking suitably old and pathetic and staring longingly at the exit a number of times, but subtlety has never been one of Daniel’s talents. I’m not even sure stripping naked, climbing onto one of the rocks and shouting, “O’Neill to Dr Jackson. Warning: Boredom level has been exceeded! Severe Colonel core meltdown is imminent!”, would even get through to him. He’d probably just shake his head and give me his ‘Jack’s being an ass’ look.
“It’s a place steeped in magic and mystery. For some it’s a place where their imaginations of the past can be fired and for others it’s become a sacred place.”
Carter’s joined us now. We’re just sitting, staring silently at the huge stone phalluses. You know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe this place was built by those ‘giant aliens’ we met last year. If we stay here much longer they’ll be burying us in one of the numerous burial mounds that surround this place.
“So, whatever your viewpoint and whatever its original purpose was, it should be treated as the ancients treated it, as a place of honour. Uh… that’s about it everyone. Um… thanks for listening.”
Daniel’s now being swarmed by the adoring masses. He’s probably signing autographs and fending off overly enthusiastic hands. It appears many people are taking his badge seriously too and going in for a hug.
My god! He’s coming over here. Alone. Is that it? Is it over? Can we go? Please God, tell me we can go!
“Sorry about that. You guys about ready to go?”
“Nah. I thought we could just stay here, enjoy the view, and let you take the next group round.”
Ow, ow, ow!
“I didn’t mean it! Let go, T!”
Geez! Looks like Teal’c still hasn’t grasped the art of sarcasm.
“Hey, what’s this?”
Daniel’s fumbling around in his pockets and is now holding up several scraps of paper, so I make a strategic withdrawal from Teal’c’s clutches and lean over to take a look.
“I think you’ll find they’re people’s phone numbers, Danny Boy.”
“But…. w…why?”
“Oh, Daniel, Daniel,” Carter grins, as she pats our confused friend on the back. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
I can’t help but shrug as I walk past him. I’m a guy, but I have eyes. I see what Daniel cluelessly does to all the females on the base. In fact, I think a few of the people to whom those phone numbers belong are following us. But, they don’t stand a chance. I’m trained in offensive driving; I’ll lose ‘em down the road!
****
****
“Jack, you’re drunk!”
“Drunk? Me?! I am not drink, Dan’el, I beerly touched any bare.”
“Yuh huh. You mean you barely touched any beer.”
“Yeah, tha’s what I said.”
Okay, there is a chance I might be moradately… modalately… oh sc’ew it! I might’ve had one too many. I wanted to get out this ev’ning, ‘pecially after the trip to ‘Tonehenge, an’ where poppa J -hiccup- ack goes, the kids have to come too. E’cept Teal’c – he ‘fused to come.
“Here, Jack, let me help you before you fall flat on your face. Give me your arm and just lean on me, okay.”
Ooh, that r‘minds me of a song!
“It won’t be long, ‘til I’m gonna need, somebody to leeeeean on!”
Daniel’s not too imp’essed with my singing. That’s his frownin’, unhappy face. I see that ‘lot.
“Just a little further, Jack, and we’ll be back at the RV. Thank God.”
Ah, Daniel. Dan’el Jackson. He’s a good f’iend, and he’s real clever. Danny’s the best o’ the best.
“I love you, Dan’el.”
“Uh, okay… that’s good, Jack.”
“No, no, I really love you. You’re the bestest f’iend I ever had.”
“Okay, Jack, I love you too. Just try to get your legs working as a team for me, okay? We don’t want you falling over.”
“Noooo, an’ without you, that would be a dextinct pissibolity.”
Ooh, there’s Carter. She’s real clever too - way smarter than me. She’s got nice legs.
“I love you, Carter.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Ooh, giggling. They’re both giggling now. That’s good. Giggling’s good. So’s coffee. Dan’el’s good at makin’ coffee.
“There’s the RV, Jack. Just a few more steps.”
“Daniel Jackson, do you require assistance.”
“No, it’s okay Teal’c, I’ve got him. Come on, Jack, one foot in front of the other.”
“Teeeeee, Buddy!”
My God, he’s huuuuge! He musta got bigger since we went out. Oh no! Maybe I shrunk!
“Daniel Jackson, O’Neill appears inebriated?”
“Uh, yeah. How could you tell?”
Teal’c, my al’en friend - big and pow’ful. He called us brothers once.
“I love you, T!”
“Indeed.”
Ooh, the eyeb’ow, it’s higher than us’al. Yay, the RV. Nice. Not sure I -hiccup- like the drapes though.
“Dan’el, do you need me to drive?”
“No, no, no, Jack, no driving tonight. Just sit down here.”
“Okay.”
Ah, it’s soft and comfort’ble. That’s nice, ‘cause the room’s spinnin’ a little, and I think I can see two Carters, but tha’s okay, she’s pretty.
“You okay, Jack?”
“I’m fine, Dan’el, really. Just need to… lie down for a bit. Be with you –hiccup- shortly.”
****
Hi, this is Daniel. I think I may have to take over for Jack for a while. He’s a little… indisposed at the moment.
I have to admit; I’ve never seen Jack quite this drunk before. He can drink me under the table at the best of times, but I think it was the mixing of his drinks that was his undoing tonight. Both Sam and I are a little tipsy too, but Jack sampled just about every alcoholic beverage in the bar. Spirit, beer, lager, shot, wine - You name it, he tried it.
He said he wanted to let his hair down tonight because he just never gets the chance these days. I was okay with that. None of us really get to have as much fun as we’d like to. But believe me; Jack ended up letting down more than just his hair. After ingesting the majority of the bar’s alcohol supply, Jack suddenly decided he was hot. Now, any sensible, mildly sober person would just remove their jacket, but no. Imagine if you will, a six foot two, middle-aged man, quite severely under the influence. Now, picture said man swiftly removing his pants and underwear in one fluid, expertly executed moment, climbing unsteadily onto the table, holding his arms triumphantly out to his sides and yelling, “My name’s Jack and I’m HOT! Oh, and I gotta pee.” He then, very unfortunately, suffered a spectacular fall from grace after breaking out into his best impression of Riverdance. Let’s just say I’m not sure Sam will ever recover from seeing a naked Jack from quite that angle!
We’ve never experienced the declarations of love before from a drunken Jack, but the aimless waving of arms, the pointing, the squinting, and the slurred speech are all pretty par for the course. He’s already poked me in the eye once tonight with his errant, totally uncoordinated finger.
On the way home, I happened to notice his fly was still undone, and the only response I got was, “Tha’s okay Dan’el. I’m advertising!”
I’m actually astonished he’s not sick. If it were me, I’d be distinctly green and have my head firmly wedged round the u-bend by now.
Anyway, we managed to get him back to the RV, which was a challenge in itself, and after depositing him, quite unceremoniously, in the chair, Sam and I are now trying, unsuccessfully I might add, to take off his shoes. Are these things glued on or something?
“Jack, I need you to sit up and help us get your shoes off.”
“Ugghhh.”
Yep, that’s what I thought he’d say.
“Teal’c, could you help me get him up.”
“Indeed.”
“Sir, are you with us? We need your help with your shoes.”
“Love you, Carter.”
Oh, here we go again. At least with him conscious, we can make progress with the shoes. Although, with the interesting aroma gradually infiltrating my personal space, I may just regret doing it. He’s going to owe me big time for this.
“You know, it’s my birthday soon, Jack. You’d better be getting me something nice.”
He’s squinting again. I can see him thinking hard.
“Mm, how about I get me something nice, and you can play with it.”
Well, thanks.
****
“Daniel Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
Oh dear. Teal’c’s just standing there holding the video camera, with Sam half hidden behind him, a look of pure, slightly tipsy mischief on her face. This can’t be good.
“Can we not use O’Neill’s current condition to our advantage, Daniel Jackson?”
“You mean… blackmail?”
Sam’s grinning and nodding furiously.
“I don’t know. That seems a bit mean to me.”
But then, Jack did take unspeakable delight in embarrassing me in front of Sean, John and Mark.
“Yeah, alright. Jack?”
“Yeah.”
“I have a little game for you. Do you want to play?”
“Sure. Why not.”
There go the drunken jello arms again.
“Okay, what’s your full name?”
“Uhhh… Jothanan O’Neill. Two els!”
He’s holding up four fingers, but I’ll let that pass.
“When’s your birthday?”
“Oct’ber 20, 1852.”
He’s looking very pleased with himself, and I have to say, he’s looking pretty good for someone who’s 149 years old. He’ll be in competition with Bra’tac.
“How tall are you, Jack?”
“Oooh, defin’tely 8 feet.”
“Where were you born?”
“Uhhh… Chic’go. The windy city. Oops.”
Great, Jack just gave us a real life demonstration of ‘windy’.
“Sorry,” he adds sheepishly, breaking out into giggles at the obvious unrivalled mirth bestowed by this particular bodily function.
“Okay, well done, Jack.”
“Did I win? What prize do I get?”
“Do you want to know specifically?”
“Yeah, pespically… spefically… what you said.”
“Okay, you will be rewarded with a head-splitting hangover.”
“Awwww! That's a crappy prize!” he whines, fiercely crossing his arms.
And he says I can pout!
****
“Here, Jack, try and drink this glass of water for me, okay?”
Uh oh, he’s gripping my shirt and is now trying to pull me closer.
“Need to borrow your glasses Dan’el. Can’t see prop’ly.”
“Yes, there’s a reason for that, Jack, but I’m not sure my glasses will help though. Let me get yours.”
Jack will never admit to wearing glasses, but he does need them for reading. I’m not entirely convinced they’ll help with his beer-vision, but they’re bound to be slightly more effective than mine.
“Here you go, Jack.”
“T’anks,” he says softly, just quietly staring at the glasses now cradled in his hand.
Just as I try to stand up, he grabs my shirt again, rather tightly, pulling me down to sit beside him.
“Are you okay, Jack? Do you need anything else?”
His look has abruptly changed to one of quiet intensity. He’s studying me. I can see the deep frown as his eyes slowly search my face. It’s so quiet I can hear us both breathing.
“Jack, are you okay?”
If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was suddenly sober. His expression is so… unwavering and concentrated, but his slightly unfocused eyes and the soft hint of unshed tears are giving him away. Jack would never normally bare his emotions like this. I’m getting a little concerned.
His hand is moving up to gently run through my hair and pat me softly on the cheek.
“You’re such a good boy, Charlie.”
Hell, I wasn’t expecting that. I can hear Sam’s sharp intake of breath behind me, but I dare not look at her. Poor Jack. Every guard is down right now, and I’m so pleased it’s just the four of us here. So, I just gently take Jack’s hand from my face.
“It’s… uh… I’m Daniel.”
“Yeah, Daniel. Tha’s what I said.”
And with a last couple of pats to my hand, he’s sliding down to rest his head on the chair again.
Damn, I think I need a drink!
****
“Dan’el, I gotta pee!”
Here we go again. He’s been four times in the last half hour. We’ve managed to get two big glasses of water into him so far too, and I think it’s slowly starting to help.
“Okay, Jack, same as last time. You take charge of everything; I’ll just hold you upright.”
“’Kay.”
“Remember, it’s just like aiming your P-90. If you miss, there’ll be casualties.”
“I know how to aim, Daniel, I’ve been doing this since I was two, and at least thirteen years longer than you.”
“Right, Jack.”
That’s it. After this, we’re putting him to bed, and if he complains, I’ll get Teal’c to sit on him.
****
(Jack’s back!)
“Uugghhh!”
What the hell happened to me last night? I feel like an elephant’s tap dancing on my head and a budgie’s taken a crap in my mouth.
Ah, what’s that? Ooh, a cold compress. Feels nice. Okay, Jack my boy. Just try opening one eye, just a teensy bit.
“Morning, Jack.”
Ah, it’s Daniel, my ever-faithful sidekick. He always looks after me when I have a hangover, usually because it’s only ever after a night of SG-1 team debauchery at my house. He always has the good grace to whisper too.
“I’ll just leave your coffee here, okay?”
“Thanks, Danny.”
“You’re welcome. Do you need anything else?”
"Yeah, bring me a big knife so I can cut off my head."
Well, at least that got the sidekick chuckling.
“Sure Jack, whatever you need.”
****
Okay, you can do this, O’Neill. You just need to get out of bed. That’s it. There we go.
“Good morning, Sir!”
“Is it, Carter?”
Geez, I really need to visit the John. I think I passed desperate about half an hour ago.
Ahhhh, blessed relief. That’s so much better.
What the…?
“Daniel!”
This is so not happening.
“DANIEL!!”
“You hollered, Jack?”
“There’s no toilet paper.”
“Indeed, O’Neill, I depleted our supply yesterday.”
“Thanks T! What am I supposed to do then?”
“I don’t know, Jack. We’ll just have to go and get some later.”
“Right, so for now, what? Should I use the placemats? Carter’s pillowcase maybe? Or should I just start crawling along the carpet like a dog with worms?”
“As disturbing as that visual is, Jack, I do actually have a small secret stash of toilet paper for emergencies, BUT, you can only have it if you promise to wear the new t-shirt I bought for you yesterday."
"What new t-shirt?"
"Here."
Oh for crying out loud!
"Very funny Daniel!"
He's bought me a t-shirt that says, 'Cleverly Disguised as a Responsible Adult'.
I am never drinking again. I swear. Although, I'm pretty sure I said that last time too.
"Okay, okay, give me the damn toilet paper."
See what I mean? No respect whatsoever!
****
The End... for now!