****
“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!
“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!