Once back at the briefing room, Hammond studied Mac carefully.
"Incredible. I've always heard there was a doppelganger for everyone, but to think that the colonel found his is nothing short of amazing!"
"To have found him AND Goa’uld related technology is amazing, sir--" Carter corrected.
Hammond nodded.
"The deception will proceed then, given the circumstances, however, Doctor Frasier's got to be informed--I don't want her giving the wrong blood type by accident."
MacGyver cleared his throat. “You want me to go see the doctor, sir?”
“Of course, all my people get examined after a mission. This time is no different however given the fact they didn’t leave Earth but your medical history is something she needs to be aware of.”
“Yes sir. Infirmary is on the 23rd floor?”
“It is, you’re all dismissed--” Hammond stood up from the table and went back towards his office while the team headed for the infirmary.
*** *** ***
Janet Frasier looked up at the group coming through the doorway and gave a welcoming
smile.
"Okay people you know the drill by now--Cecily, take Carter and Teal'c over there, Colonel, you and Daniel come with me--" she directed briskly. Mac followed Daniel over to the indicated bed and sat on it while Doctor Frasier busied herself with the archeologist.
"A little pink here, Daniel--you DID use sunscreen didn't you?" she scolded. Daniel nodded.
"Religiously, Janet. Just admit I'm naturally pink, okay?"
“I’m a doctor, I admit nothing,” Janet gave him a teasing grin as she flipped to her next chart and stood in front of MacGyver.
“All right Colonel, how are you doing?”
Mac glanced over at Daniel, his eyes widening at him. He thought they were going to tell the doctor who he really was.
Daniel shrugged his shoulders, telling Mac that this was yet another test of his acting abilities.
“Good, fine. Nothing I like more than extreme heat and sand.”
“Don’t forget camels,” she set the chart down beside him and took her stethoscope out.
“Can you unzip your jumpsuit a little please so I can listen to your heart?”
Mac did so, trying to look bored, and not succeeding. The stethoscope was cold, and he winced a bit. Janet frowned, shifting it.
"Calm down colonel, it's not like I've never touched you before--"
"That's what YOU think--" Mac muttered absently. Janet drew her brows together but said nothing for a moment.
"Sounds good, but a bit faster than normal. Are you tense?"
MacGyver couldn’t help but chuckle. “You have no idea Doc.”
Janet creased her brow, looping the stethoscope around her neck.
“Is something wrong?”
The grey haired man turned to look at Daniel, seeing his shrug.
“Daniel?”
“Go ahead and tell her, she’s bound to find out sooner or later.”
“Tell me what?” Janet’s gaze bounced between the two men.
Mac turned back towards her and sighed.
“I’m not Colonel Jack O’Neill, my name is MacGyver and the reason I’m tense is because I’ve got grey hair now, and my wife is walking around with Jack pretending that he’s me.”
He held up his left hand, showing her the pale line where his wedding ring used to be.
”And if you don’t believe me, here’s the proof.”
Janet didn't smile. Instead, she shot a look at Daniel, who nodded, crossing his arms under his armpits.
"Looong story, Janet, but the point is that Jack needs to be protecting MacGyver's wife while the NID are lurking about."
"Fair enough, but this was a dangerous switch to pull! I have the colonel's vitals practically memorized, and I bet a lot of them differ from this gentleman's!"
Mac nodded.
"That's why we're telling you NOW and not AFTER I need a transfusion, okay?"
She softened, patting his shoulder.
"Fair enough--is everyone ELSE who they should be? No duplicate Daniels or extra Carters here?"
“God I hope not,” Daniel muttered as he pushed up his glasses.
MacGyver took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well that just helped with the tension.”
“All right well since this is our first meeting, I have to ask you some questions. But let me get you a new chart.”
Janet walked away, returning with a new chart that she tucked into her clipboard.
“Okay let’s see here. Name, MacGyver. I know that much, now I need your age, height, and weight. Unless you want me to measure and weigh you.”
“42, 6’2, 175 pounds.”
She wrote all that down and scanned down the chart.
“Allergies?”
“Penicillin and coconut,” Janet started to open her mouth but Mac beat her to it.
“And yes I do have a medical alert necklace but Jack has it.”
Janet frowned.
"I'd really feel better if we could get that allergy notification on you somewhere--maybe an added tag to your two--just for safety's sake."
*** *** ***
The door to Pete’s office opened and Jack and Gillian walked in; the stout man
in the dark brown suit rose to his feet.
“Good morning, how are you both feeling?” He raised one chubby finger to the ceiling and made a circle with it. He stuck his hand out in a stop motion and sat back down.
“Good Pete, now that we’re back in our own time zone.”
Gillian walked around his desk and leaned over to whisper in his ear.
“Bugs?”
Pete nodded as he opened a desk drawer and took out a metal box. “MacGyver how about you?”
Jack sat down in the chair in front of Pete’s desk and folded his hands over his lap. “Pretty good, now that we’re out of the heat.”
“Yeah Egypt in the summer time is a scorcher,” Pete turned his phone around and took out the line. He opened the silver box and took out what looked like a small radio; it had a panel filled with multi-colored buttons and a pair of speakers. The phone line plugged into the back of it and Pete flipped a switch; a noise sounding like static coming over the speakers.
“There!” He said with a sigh. “Now we can talk; any bugs in here are now being scrambled.”
Pete stood up and stretched out his hand. “Pete Thornton.”
Jack got up and took his hand. “Colonel Jack O’Neill.”
The shake a firm one; the Director of Operations sat back down.
“A pleasure to meet you Colonel and I’ve just got to say that you are the spitting image of MacGyver.”
“Thanks, I’ve been trying,” Jack once more took his seat.
“You’ve been doing pretty good so far Jack,” Gillian walked back around Pete’s desk; sitting on the edge of it. “Anything happen while we were away?”
“Well the day after you guys got back we got a surprise visit from the FBI. A couple of agents came in here asking a lot of questions about both you and MacGyver.”
Jack shook his head. “That’s the NID, subtle as a runaway train. If they can’t make you tell them what they want to know, don’t be surprised if a cleaning crew or some carpet shampooers suddenly show up.”
“No, I already tightened security and I gave them specific instructions about who is allowed in the building.”
Pete patted the box. “This also makes any phone line secure; so if you need to contact Mac or the SGC just plug it in and turn it on. I’ve already had one of these put in both the offices.”
“Well, I probably have a lot of paperwork to do.”
Gill walked over to the door and grabbed the knob. “Come on Jack; let’s go to your office and pretend to work.”
*** *** ***
Gillian leaned back in her chair and wiped her hands down her face. There was
a ton of paperwork to do and most of her morning had been used reducing the
pile of it down to almost nothing. Her stomach suddenly growled and she ran
her hand down the front of her blue paisley dress and patted it.
“Okay okay time for lunch.”
She straightened her chair back up and pressed the number 2 button.
“Mac?”
She waited for Jack to respond; raising her eyebrow.
“Yeah I’m here, what’s up?”
Gillian shook her head, figuring the colonel had been distracted by either her husband’s movie collection or had fallen asleep on the couch.
“It’s lunch time and I’m starving, care to go down to the lunchroom with me?”
“Sure, I could use a bite to eat. Be right over.”
She pressed the intercom button again and turned towards the door; seeing her husband’s twin come through it.
Gillian looked past him towards the open door and motioned to it with her chin. Jack closed it and she curled her finger at him.
“Before we go to lunch Mac, come here a second.”
Jack pointed to his knees and then to the couch. Gillian got up from her chair and sat down on her couch; he joined her and she shifted sideways and leaned close to him.
“I forgot to tell you-- the lunchroom is gossip central. Normally Mac and I don’t stay there; we usually get our lunch and bring it back to eat it either here or in his office.”
Jack caught a strong whiff of strawberry shampoo as Gillian whispered in his ear.
“Well we’ll do that then.”
Gillian nodded. “I just wanted to warn you about the gang of women down there known as the Grapevine. Sometimes they like to talk to Mac and ask him a thousand questions. I don’t know if they’d try and stop you this time; they might considering everyone knows now about the baby.”
He shook his head and sighed. “Great that’s all I need, the female version of the Spanish Inquisition.”
“Nah, the Spanish Inquisition was much more merciful.”
Jack widened his eyes at her. “Merciful?” He gazed down at her stomach. “So what do I need to know?”
Gillian smiled. “I’m 18 weeks Jack; we don’t know what it is yet but should find out soon. I feel good; I’m finally beginning to show and no we haven’t started the nursery yet.”
“Anything else?”
“I don’t think so.”
Jack stood up and offered his hand to Gillian; she took it and he pulled her off the couch.
*** *** ***
The physical ended twenty minutes later, and Mac felt hungry; Rose guided him
down to the Mess Hall and handed him a tray.
"Junk. The colonel likes junk, Mac. Grab a salad, and everyone here will be pointing a gun at you--" she warned.
“Great--good thing there’s an infirmary,” Mac slid his tray along the line looking up at the menu selections for the day. The soup was clam chowder; the sandwiches available were club, a Reuben or two chili dogs.
“I’ll have a--”
Rose craned her neck. “Chili dogs, the colonel will have the chili dogs.” She raised an eyebrow at Mac, telling him that she knew the colonel best.
“That’ll be fine,” he said through gritted teeth as a plate containing two chili dogs and a pile of potato chips was handed to him.
Rose took her club sandwich and they headed for a table.
“Rose I despise chili dogs!” Mac stated as he leaned closer to her.
She gave him a rueful smile.
"Mac, I understand your reluctance, and I can sneak you something later, but right now, give it the old college try. Drown it in mustard, pretend it's tofu, whatever it takes, but get at least one DOWN." she whispered back. Mac sighed.
As he chewed, trying hard NOT let his distaste show, he felt the soft tickle along his shin and nearly choked. Rose was looking innocent. He set the remainder of the chilidog down and shot her a wary look.
"Ummm--"
"Have to do it--" she told him out of the corner of her mouth, "We ALWAYS do it, and the people here know it. Lunch and footsie--it's our routine--" she admitted mournfully. Mac coughed hard.
“I guess I have no choice then,” He picked up a potato chip and bit into it, trying to ignore the soft brushing of a stockinged foot sliding up the leg of his blue jumpsuit.
He finished up his first chili dog and pushed the plate away.
“Rose any other activities like this I should know about?” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck as someone carrying a lunch tray passed their table.
Rose leaned forward, a small smile on her face.
"Later, we won’t have to worry about stuff like that ‘til the weekend. And Mac?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"Please don't tell Jack about, um--he'd understand WHY, but he won't like it much."
Mac nodded, dark eyes twinkling.
"It'll be our guilty secret--" he breathed back. Rose blushed.
*** *** ***
The lunchroom was a hustle and bustle of people getting their food and sitting
down to eat. Gillian led the way since Jack didn’t know where he was going;
she opened the doors and he walked in raising his eyebrow at the number of people.
The lunch counter was at the top of the room and the line for it wasn’t that long. Weaving around the sea of round tables; Jack got a gander at a good portion of the foundation employees; all of them offered him polite smiles, nods of their head or a wave. He put his hands on Gillian’s shoulders and leaned towards her ear.
“Your husband is the popular one, isn’t he?”
Gillian peered over her shoulder at him and nodded. As loud laughter erupted out from across the room Jack turned to see a short haired blond, and a gang of brunettes all huddled together.
“Let me guess--the Grapevine?”
“Good guess,” Gillian shook her head as she picked up a tray and laid it across the metal rail. She looked up at the menu choices and snickered.
“Uh oh.”
“What’s wrong?” Jack laid his tray beside hers.
She dropped her head and cleared her throat. “The special today is chili dogs--”
A sunny grin bloomed on his face. “Cool!”
Gillian widened her eyes at him and shook her head, mouthing the words. “Mac hates them.”
Jack groaned, dropping his head back. He glanced at the menu and saw the Chef Salad was also available as a special.
Gillian gave him a nod; that was usually what her husband got if the special was something he didn’t like.
The line moved along and the older woman in white with a hairnet smile at her.
“Hi Gill, what’ll it be?”
“Hi Marcy--I’ll take an order of chili dogs and fries.” She glanced at Jack, seeing his large scowl. “Better make that two.”
“Two?” Her eyes widened.
“Yeah. Been having massive cravings for them,” Gillian turned to look at Jack.
“And stop frowning Mac, I know you hate them but right now they’re what I want,” She gave her stomach a rub. “I can’t help it.”
Jack sighed shaking his head. “And I know what you’ll be having for dessert--Tums.”
Gillian shrugged her shoulders. “Probably.” She gave Jack a wink, seeing the way his dark eyes smile back despite his dramatic frown of disapproval.
“Here you go Gill,” Marcy handed her two Styrofoam plates with foil coverings.
“Thank you.”
She set them both on her tray and moved it along.
“And let me guess what I can get for you MacGyver?” Marcy picked up a plastic wrapped plate. “Here’s the Chef Salad.”
“You know me so well ,Marcy.” Jack took the plate and set it down on his tray.
“Thanks Gill, I owe you big time for the chili dogs,” Jack whispered as they
headed for the door; they had just passed the Grapevine’s table when Sandra
called out to him.
“Mac! Come here a second!”
“Oh crap.”
Jack turned around slowly seeing the blond woman waving him over.
“Ladies--” He said with a smile as he looked at the flock of women staring at him.
“How was Egypt MacGyver?” Sandra picked up her soda and sipped from the straw.
“Good, pretty interesting.”
“Wasn’t it terribly hot?” Jessica, the long haired brunette asked, casting a glance over at Gillian. “Must have been rough on Gill.”
“Actually she did really well; she’s pretty tough.”
“Boy she’s really starting to show, how far along is she?”
“18 weeks; we’re almost half way there.” Jack tucked his one free hand into his pocket not liking this session of Twenty Questions.
Stephanie, the brunette sitting beside Sandra leaned forward a little on the table.
“Must be hard on you huh?”
Jack cocked his head to one side; his brow creasing. “What do you mean hard?”
“Well Gillian has always had a marvelous figure; must be rough on you seeing it disappear like that.”
“There’s NOTHING wrong with her figure.” He turned his head and looked at her briefly seeing Gillian frown as she touched her stomach. She knew what they were saying about her and her hurt expression made a scowl spread across Jack’s face.
“She’ll probably never be that slim again after the baby comes.”
Jack’s head whipped back, glaring at the women. He had enough of this discussion.
“And what business is it of yours?” He took his hand out of his pocket and placed it on the table as he leaned over it, his dark eyes brewing as he glanced over the suddenly wide eyed women.
“Mac we only meant that--” Sandra started to say before his gaze dropped to her and she seemed to shrink back from the table.
“My wife’s figure is none of your business and frankly I think she’s beautiful. Even more so than anyone I see at THIS table.” He hissed as he straightened back up and walked away, setting his tray down on the table in front of Gillian.
“Let’s go back upstairs.”
Gillian started to turn towards the door when Jack took ahold of her arm and turned her back. He plucked the tray from her hands and set it down beside his.
Before Gillian could say one word or even react, Jack touched both sides of her face and pressed his mouth to hers as he pulled her into his arms.
Gillian stiffened briefly, stunned at what was happening; she remembered they were being watched and relaxed, wrapping her arms around Jack.
He broke it and cleared his throat, glancing briefly over his shoulder at the table of stunned women before gazing into Gill’s face.
“That showed them.”
Gill nodded. “Yeah it did, thanks.” She gave him a small smile, grateful that he stuck up for her, something Mac would have done in a heartbeat.
Jack moved his hands from her face and picked up his tray. “Let’s go back upstairs.”
He held the door open for her and Gillian picked up her tray. She raised her hand and waved at the Grapevine, a big grin on her face before turning back and leaving the lunchroom.
*** *** ***
Mac tried not to stare, but he WAS a man, and a tiny bit of testosterone-fueled
curiosity made him pause before looking away. Rose put the hairbrush down and
kept her smirk from widening too much.
“I take it you LIKE my new PJs----Jack?” she murmured throatily.
Mac cleared his throat and went back to scrubbing his teeth, glad that he had a foamy mouthful of an excuse for not answering. He liked the PJs, oh yes; what was not to like? Pale pink flannel, wonderfully tight in several interesting places and slinkily loose in others. Mac loved Gill with all his heart and soul, but even HE had to admit that Rose in her PJs was no strain on the eyes, nooooo, not at all.
He and Rose had picked up a new toothbrush before arriving at the house. During that shopping trip they’d covered a lot of things, but even Rose had confessed that it wasn’t going to be an easy masquerade.
“Jack’s ninety percent sure that the NID are aware he and I are involved—although he keeps the house swept for electronic surveillance, it’s dollars to donuts that they’re going to be around the perimeters, watching.”
“Great—that ought to help me relax—“ Mac grumbled. Rose sighed.
“To be honest, sometimes Jack gets a little outrageous just to freak them out—one time he sang opera all weekend, and another time he made me call him Lord and Master—“
“Kinky—“ Mac grinned. Rose rolled her eyes.
“You have NO idea—“ she sighed.
Now, they stood side by side in the bathroom, each fighting for counter space
as they went through nighttime rituals. Mac tried to move naturally, to relax
and pretend things were normal, but it was difficult. Rose was short, and
constantly moving around him, both of them awkward in the small space. He backed
up to let her pick up her hairbrush, then rinsed out his mouth. As he turned
on the water, he spoke to her under the sound of it.
“So far so good—I guess we can just call it a night?”
She was blushing. Not a good sign. Mac watched her shake her head slowly.
“Ummm, we COULD, but that’s not really the SOP when I spend the night—“ Rose blushed. Mac cleared his throat, suddenly aware that blushes were contagious. She didn’t meet his eyes as she continued.
“We have so little time together that it’s sort of um, touch intensive? So we go to bed around ten, and then go to sleep at midnight, and Jack wakes up at five, and we get out of bed around seven—“
“EVERY NIGHT?” Mac hissed, his eyebrows went up at this show of stamina, but Rose shook her head, spluttering with soft giggles.
“Oh no—we only get to spend a weekend together about once a month, Mac. It’s rough, but we have to keep our relationship within certain limitations. Sooo—once we step out of here, you’re going to have to um—sort of maul me.”
“Maul you?”
“Make a lot of noise about it—you don’t have to touch me for real, but with the kind of listening devices the NID have, they know what’s normal for the two of us. Think of it as your chance to do that Meg Ryan thing.”
At that, Mac did smile, briefly. He looked himself over in the mirror, still wincing a bit at the grey. Rose stepped out of the doorway and motioned to him with her fingers.
“Stop primping Colonel and get that hard ass of yours in bed!” she growled loudly. Mac blinked at that, but at her expectant look he moved forward, remembering to flick the bathroom light off.
“Hey, none of that—I outrank you—“ he told her firmly. She nodded and flopped backwards on the bed, holding out her arms to him. Awkwardly Mac leaned over her. Rose giggled.
“Bounce me so the bed creaks a little. Go on, I’m not that fragile—“ she whispered. Mac planted his hands on either side of her shoulders and pushed hard; the bedsprings squeaked.
“You do NOT outrank me in bed, Jack O’Neill!” Rose announced loudly. She reached up for Mac and ran her hands down his sides.
“If anything, I’m your SUPERIOR, darling. You love to work under me in an in depth capacity. Get your sweats off right now, big boy!”
Rose shook her head at his momentary confusion to her order, but Mac bounced the bed a few more times and grinned at her. It was the amused smirk of a kid, and Rose nodded.
He was catching on.
“Stop wiggling your cute little, ah, butt—“ he yelped. Rose gave a moan and scooted away from him, giving another defiant bounce on the bed. Mac tossed himself down beside her, his greater weight making more noise. Rose gave a loud moan.
From that point on it was clearly a competition, with Mac and Rose gleefully trying to outdo each other in the artificial passion department. Rose yelped and sighed and squealed, throwing herself into the performance with naughty abandon; several times Mac bit his own lips to keep from laughing out loud as they improvised.
“Ooh love you, hot stud muffin—“
“Do me, Sugarbaby, oh yeah, JUST like that—“
“Jack, oh you ANIMAL!”
“Grrrrrr---!“
“Oh you naughty MAN!”
“Ride me Hot Mama!”
They both got the bedsprings creaking in a nice steady rhythm, and Rose winked at him.
“Ooohooooooohhhhh—“ she yodeled, the long moaning sound echoing to the ceiling. Mac flushed, fighting his own reaction to the sultry sound. He barked out,
“Gggggod!!” before dropping his face in the pillows to smother the laugh rolling out of him. Rose was shaking too, tears rolling down her face. They slowly caught their breath, and finally she rolled over close, her mouth next to his ear.
“I’m nominating you for the MTV Awards, buster—Hot Mama? NEVER tell Jack you called me that in bed!”
Mac waggled his eyebrows at her, his dimples deep.
“Got carried away—honest to God, tell me it’s not really like that for you two—“
Rose stuck her tongue out, but her eyes were twinkling.
Later, in the quiet hours of early morning, Mac woke up, muzzily aware of being in a strange bed, wrapped around someone warm and sweet, but not quite right. There was—wiggling—involved, and parts of him were definitely responding to the urgent wake up call.
“Ahhh, Rose?” he managed in a soft voice, trying to gently extricate himself. She made a soft little sigh. He tried again.
“Rose?”
“Jaaaack—“ came her sleepy complaint, “Not nowwwww. Stop knocking at the back door and go to sleep!”
Mac blushed, a full body job, flaming and deep. He jerked away from her and rolled to his other side. After a second he heard giggles.
“Gotcha.”
*** *** ***
The clang of tipping over bottles rang out as Gillian’s hairbrush fell behind
her dresser.
“Damn it,” she whispered as she rubbed her hip; she had bumped the dresser as she came into the bedroom.
Jack had gone to the store to buy beer, using another one of Gillian’s food cravings as an excuse. She wanted pistachio almond ice cream and they were fresh out.
Gillian sighed as she crouched down beside the dresser and stuck her hand behind it; reaching for her brush. She couldn’t quite reach it and shifted to her knees. Her fingers curled around the edge of the dresser and she tried to move it back. It wouldn’t budge and she pulled a little harder; the dresser slid over a few inches. She reached behind it again, feeling her brush and grabbed it.
“Aha! Gotcha!” The dresser was moved back against the wall and Gillian stood up, pleased she got her brush.
She set it back on top of her dresser and fixed the toppled over bottles.
Gillian had taken off her dress and slipped into her blue tank top and shorts pajama set. She sat on the bed with her legs tucked underneath her as she studied the photographs of the obelisk.
“Hmmm that’s odd,” She turned and opened her nightstand drawer pulling out a notebook and pen. She studied the photos a little more closely and gasped.
“Oh my God that language--it’s Carian.”
Gillian set the notebook and photos aside and left the bedroom; she went into the living room and opened her sarcophagus bookshelf then pulled out a small leather bound journal. It contained a word list of the Carian language that she and Indy had once found on a dig in Turkey. The tablets didn’t survive the transport home making the list she made probably the only source of the Carian language there was.
“No wonder Daniel didn’t recognize it,” she muttered to herself as she flipped through the pages and closed the bookshelf; heading back to the bedroom.
*** *** ***
Jack shifted the bag, wincing every time the cold of the ice cream leaked out
against his thigh. The beer wasn't his favorite, but what the hell; at least
the ice cream was going to be a crowd pleaser. He unlocked the door and paused,
listening. Nothing too unusual.
"Mac?"
Gillian heard the door and climbed off the bed.
She set the journal aside, opened the bedroom door and peered down the hall, seeing Jack with a plastic bag in his hands.
"Great you're back! Were you able to find the ice cream?"
"Yeah, but it wasn't cheap, so pace yourself--" he chided, handing her the little container. Gill gave a little happy wriggle and Jack rolled his eyes.
"What is it with women and their ice cream? You all act like it's an orgasm in a box--"
Gill shot him an arch look even as her cheeks went pink.
"Oh really? And you would know, wouldn’t you?" Gillian watched Jack’s face grow red. She pulled the lid of the ice cream and ran her finger along its underside, closing her eyes in bliss as she licked the melted ice cream off.
“Oh that’s good. And I’m sorry if it was a major pain finding it but when I get a craving I have to have it.”
She ate another finger full of the ice cream and sighed.
“And did you find your soda?”
Gillian peeked in the bag seeing the paper carton full of six glass bottles.
“If ice cream is an orgasm for women than that must be the orgasm for men.”
She batted her eyes at him as she took her dessert into the kitchen.
“I don’t suppose I can interest you in a bowl of pistachio almond? You can pour your soda over it and have a float.”
Jack managed a smile, although it was little tight around the edges. He rolled his shoulders and looked at the little carton.
"Not a float, but maybe a little bowlful would be nice--"
He stepped out to the kitchen and began to rummage through the cupboards, looking for something not too big after getting out a pair of spoons.
Gillian watched him as she got out the ice cream scoop.
“You know where the bowls are Mac or do you want something smaller?” She picked up a mug from the drain board and handed it to him.
“Here how’s this?”
She handed him the scoop. “You start, nature is calling.”
Gillian left the kitchen and went to the bathroom.
Jack stuck the scoop in the carton and got out a hearty helping of ice cream; he had just put it in his coffee mug when he heard Gillian calling out to him; the slight panic in her voice made him almost drop the scoop.
"Gill?" he called back cautiously, his senses alert. Moving through the house, he called again, and heard her muffled voice coming from the bathroom.
"J-Jack, I'm BLEEDING!" she called through the door. He grabbed the knob.
"Okay, don't panic! How badly?" his mind raced, and he could hear his own heartbeat. There was a tense pause, and finally Gill's voice sounded again.
"A little. Just one long stain--" he could hear the embarrassment and anxiety in her tone.
"Okay, but are you hurting? Are you in PAIN?"
“No.”
Gillian could feel her whole body shaking; she pulled up her shorts and got up. Her mind raced and she took a deep breath, trying to calm down and think.
“The dresser--it had to be the dresser.”
Her legs felt like rubber as she held onto the sink and took a couple of small steps. She reached out and unlocked the door; Jack stepped inside the bathroom.
He rubbed his hands along her upper arms.
"Look at me--" he ordered tersely, searching her face. She was pale and obviously upset; he tightened his grip.
"We need to call your doctor and get the word about what to do--" Jack told her slowly and calmly. Gill's eyes were locked on his, and she nodded. He spoke again.
"Where's the number?"
"On the wall near the phone--" Gill told him. Jack pulled her close and sighed.
"Not that I'm a lotta help, but I don't think it can be too bad if you're still talking to me. Let's go see what we need to do, okay?"
"O-okay," Gill buried her face in his shoulder for a moment, and Jack let her, gently patting the back of her head.
Jack had his arms crossed over his chest, leaning with his back against the
kitchen counter as he watched Gillian on the phone. After answering a few questions
she hung up and faced him.
“Dr. Turner wants me to come in.”
Gillian hung up the phone and rubbed her arms, feeling the goose bumps on them.
“What about Mac?” She mouthed his name, not wanting to say it out loud. She tightened her lips, trying not to get upset.
“I mean what if something--?”
She closed her mouth, not wanting that thought to enter her mind.
Jack pulled the pad of paper and wrote in his angular handwriting: We'll call if it's needed. If not, we'll tell him LATER--
Gill nodded, not liking the situation, but Jack gave her shoulders a squeeze as she fished in her purse for the car keys
They made the trip in silence broken only by Gill's directions and pulled up to the clinic within minutes. Jack looked at the woman next to him.
"Gillian--" his tone said it all: he cared, he was worried, and he wanted to help. She gave him a wet-eyed smile.
"Nothing personal, but God I wish you weren't here--" she sighed.
*** *** ***
Gillian stared up at the ceiling, a thousand terrible thoughts ran through her
mind. Dr. Turner probed her abdomen, her fingers sinking into it.
“You said you moved your dresser about an hour before?”
“Yeah, it was just a little bit though.”
The dark haired woman sat back on the stool and wheeled it around to the side of the table; her dark eyes stared at the expecting mother.
“There’s nothing wrong. The spotting was caused by exertion; you moved something heavy, pulled on your abdomen and you bled as a result of it.”
“Oh thank God,” Gillian’s eyes slid closed as she whispered, relief flooding through her. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Dr. Turner shook her head. “You have to be careful Gill; you can’t be moving furniture or lifting heavy objects.”
Gill nodded her relief evident.
"Gotcha--no weightlifting either, right?"
"Gill, be serious, okay? Now go get dressed while I see when you're scheduled
to come in next--"
Turner poked her head out the door and caught sight of a familiar blond head.
Worried eyes met hers.
"Well?"
"Mac, you can't let her go around moving dressers--" Turner teased gently. She wasn't prepared for the scowl and stormy brown eyes.
"I DIDN'T. Is she going to be okay, yes or NO?"
"Calm down! She's fine, the baby's fine and I'd say you will be too once you stop with the macho dad act--" Turner warned with a gentle smile.
Jack looked apologetically at her and Turner touched his shoulder.
“It’s okay Mac, believe me I understand how frightening something like this can be. You’re not the first dad to panic and you won’t be the last.” She gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. “Let me go see when her next appointment is.”
She excused herself and walked down the hall; the exam room opened and Gillian came out, dressed once more in her pajamas. She saw Jack and a small relieved smile came to her face.
“Everything’s okay Jack,” Gill’s face reddened, suddenly embarrassed at her earlier hysterics. “I’m really sorry for putting you through all this.”
Jack pulled her into a loose hug and patted her back. Low and in her ear he whispered,
"I'm sorry too--brought back a few memories for me, Gill--my wife and I had a lot of--well fertility trouble. I've spent time getting bad news in waiting rooms like this."
Astonished, Gill pulled away to look up at him. Jack gave a shrug.
"Ancient history. The good news is that as long as you don't decide to say, move obelisks by yourself, you're fine, right?"
She nodded, reaching up to pat his cheek.
"Do we tell Mac?" he asked, searching her face. Gill bit her lip.
"We have to," She closed her eyes, shaking her head.
Gillian knew exactly how badly her husband was going to take this and blame himself for not being there.
“He’s going to be relieved the baby’s okay but at the same time he’s going to kick himself for being so far away when I needed him.”
Before Jack could answer, Dr. Turner came walking down the hall towards them.
“You come back in 4 weeks Gill.”
“Okay, thanks Melissa.”
Turner gave a little nod of her head. “You’re welcome, go home and rest and remember what I said.”
“I will.”
Gillian looked at Jack. “We better go home; I’ve got a call to make.”
Jack shook his head.
"Don't stress the two of you out, Gill--he can't do anything but worry, and neither of you needs that right now. Tomorrow we can call, but for right now, let's just get home and get some comfort food in ya."
Gill nodded, liking the sound of that, so they left the clinic and headed back. In the dark car, she sighed.
"I didn't know you were married--" she ventured softly. Jack nodded.
"Twelve years. We split up when our boy died. Accident with one of my handguns."
His terse tone said it all. Gill gulped. Jack shot her a quick bleak look.
"Yeah, I'm a great one for safety, huh? Ah well. Rose walked in a few years later and I'm still on my knees thanking somebody up there."
"Oh God, Jack--" blindly Gill reached for his shoulder and squeezed. He sighed.
"It's okay most of the time now. Not healed, but resigned, sort of. Anyway, you still want that ice cream?"
"Yeah I think I'll definitely need the comfort but the way I feel right now it would take a whole truckload.”
*** *** ***
They pulled up to the house and Jack served up two bowls of the ice cream while
Gillian got ready for bed. She changed into a different set of pajamas; the
shorts and tank top a coral color. She climbed into bed and leaned with her
back against the headboard when Jack came in carrying the ice cream.
“We can watch a movie Mac; that might help relax us.”
Jack nodded and let her choose. When she came back, he firmly snuggled her up against his chest, letting her rest her back on him.
"Comfy?"
"Against a bony old man like you?" she teased back. He arched an eyebrow at her.
"I have the remote--we could always watch hockey, DARLING--"
"Good point."
Gillian looked over her shoulder at Jack and kissed his cheek; their eyes met and a look of understanding and appreciation passed between them.
She turned back and watched the movie, leaning her head against his chest.
*** *** ***
“How are you at home repair?” Rose shot Mac a quick look. They were standing
in the front walkway of Home Depot, letting other customers move around them.
Mac quirked a quick smile at the woman.
“I’ve been known to fix things occasionally,” he admitted, tugging on the baseball cap. Rose gave him an unexpected hug and for a moment the warm press of her body was a fleetingly sweet sensation.
“Oh yeah! I’ve got a faucet that needs installing, and a few flagstones that I want laid, and my bedside lamp needs rewiring and—“
“Hold it!” Mac muttered desperately, gripping Rose’s shoulders to calm her down, “I’m not Bob Villa, okay? I can do MOST things, but if you’re looking to install drywall or build a patio, forget it. Lincoln freed the slaves!”
“Sorry—“ Rose blushed and sighed, “I got a little carried away. You have to understand that Jack actually CAN do this stuff. Really, he can, but we don’t have time together often and when we do, we generally, um—“
“—Check the bedsprings--a lot?” Mac replied sweetly, his dimples deep. Rose didn’t dignify the remark, but suddenly found one of the stacks of plywood intensely fascinating. Mac barked out a laugh and gave her shoulder a light, affectionate squeeze.
“Pick two. Any two and I’ll do my best, okay? It will give me something to do, and put me one up on the colonel. Besides, I needed to get some duct tape anyway—“ when Rose shot him a puzzled look he grinned.
“Long story.”
They picked up the aforementioned tape and the faucet kit, and Rose scooped up a new shower curtain. She insisted on paying for all of it, pointing out under her breath that a paper trail for the NID would be a bad idea.
*** *** ***
Jack tipped his head back, letting the warm spray of the shower hit his throat
and wash down his chest. He sighed, raising his hands and planting his palms
against the cold tile as he dropped his head. The water streaked down the blond
locks and went running down his muscular back.
His mind a whirl of things, his thoughts mostly centered on Rose. The smell of her hair, the touch of her little fingers as they roamed over his chest; he could see her smiling face and the fact she wasn’t waiting for him all warm and sweet in their bed only made him thump his head against the wall.
“Honey? Are you okay?”
He heard Gillian ask him and he turned towards the shower curtain, seeing the bright red of her hair through the lighthouses printed on it.
“Yeah I’m okay.”
The bathroom door closed and he reached down and turned off the faucets, sighing as he wiped the water from his face and pulled back the curtain.
A thick maroon towel sat on top of the toilet and something else was there too; a piece of folded up paper.
Jack picked it up, unfolding it and began reading what was written on it.
Jack…
It’s Saturday night and usually that’s the night that Mac and I-- you know.
Now I know that the NID don’t know our routine but it occurred to me earlier
today that my husband has YET to put the moves on me. This is going to embarrass
the hell out of the both of us I just know it, but if you don’t at least TRY
to seduce me I think the NID are going to get suspicious. The scare with the
baby bought us a couple of days but now I think we better do something before
we arouse suspicion.
I know what you’re thinking, how does Mac let me know that he’s interested?
Well he does one of several things; the choice of which to use is entirely up
to you.
The first method is: Mac will suggest we go to bed early…offer to give me a
massage and things go FROM THERE! Second method: I’ll come out of the bathroom
after getting ready for bed only to find him with a wicked grin and a very TINY
pair of shorts he wears just to GET ME!
Third method: Mac will come up behind me and be VERY affectionate with me… touching,
kissing my neck stuff like that and suggest softly in my ear that we skip the
movie watching and go right to BED. Fourth method: Not much to this one. Its
one of those GRAB, pull into arms and kiss me until I’m shaking and shivering
before dropping me on the bed and basically attacking me! Those are how he usually
does things Jack-- As I said the one you use is up to you… the less embarrassing
the better! And I’ll try like HELL not to get nervous about this but I think
it’s too late for that! I’ll try not to let it show though.
Jack sighed as he set the paper aside and picked up the towel, patting his face dry with it before opening it and running it across his back.
He wrapped the towel around his waist and picked up another putting it over his head and drying his hair; spiking it as he pulled the towel off and set it back on the rack.
He opened the bathroom door and peeked around the frame, seeing the empty room. Stepping into it, Jack opened the towel around him and dried off; opened Mac’s drawers and took out a pair of blue shorts. He didn’t bother with a shirt and picked up the brush, running it through his hair.
He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed before leaving the bedroom.
*** *** ***
Gillian stood at the kitchen sink loading the dishwasher. She rinsed each plate
and carefully stuck it in the appropriate slot.
The nighttime attire she had chosen was a short purple nightgown that came to about mid thigh, the top of it seemed like a tank top; the neckline a little low.
She had taken her hair and put it up in a twist; a few stray hairs had escaped from it and she tucked them behind her ears as she hunched over and continued filling the dishwasher.
Jack crossed his arms as he leaned his back against the wall. His eyes were fixed on Gillian, a small smile of appreciation on his face. The nightgown wasn’t anything spectacular but the way it exposed the nape of her neck, small back and especially her long legs made Jack decide he liked it.
The height difference between her and Rose suddenly came to mind too; Rose was significantly shorter than Gillian.
He came into the kitchen, his bare feet making him virtually silent and stood behind Gillian waiting for her to discover his presence.
She finished loading the dishwasher and closed the door; she turned it on and gasped when she suddenly felt someone behind her, breathing down her neck.
“Mac--what are you doing?”
Gillian knew why Jack was there and she swallowed hard; her heart raced mostly out of fear. This wasn’t her husband, and despite their similarities there were a lot of differences between them that she couldn’t simply forget about.
Jack moved differently, more calculated and stealthily, like a ghost. He also smelled different; Gillian noticed he had a much spicier natural musk than her husband when she leaned against him.
“I just thought I’d come see what you were doing,” Jack leaned close to her, resting his chin on her shoulder getting the light aroma of strawberries and cream.
“Just cleaning up the kitchen. What are you up to?”
Jack wrapped his arms around her waist. “Well I thought that maybe if you were done, we could go to bed.” He could feel her tremble and leaned close to her ear.
“Just relax.”
Gillian heard him whisper and took a deep breath trying to calm down.
“Sorry.” She whispered back, touching his hands.
They stayed like this for a minute or two, letting Gillian get used to the feel of Jack holding her. She calmed down and a wicked grin came to her lips.
“Bed huh? And what are we going to do there?” She opened his arms and turned around, hugging his neck.
He looked into her face, shrugging. “Oh I don’t know, how about read a book? Do a crossword puzzle?”
Gillian nodded her head slowly raising an eyebrow.
“Or we can shut off the lights and go crazy on one another.”
She planted a couple of small kisses on his lips.
“Maybe turn on the CD player with some nice romantic music to get us in the mood,” he leaned close to her ear. “The music--nice and loud, that’s all they’ll hear. We can just go to sleep and not worry about it.”
“Okay, good idea.” Gillian sighed out of relief and touched her nose to Jack’s.
“Romantic music? My someone is in the mood huh?” Gillian gave him a little kiss.
“Oh yeah and I think we better go do something about it.”
Jack took a hold of her arm and moved it from around his neck; he held her hand and went into the living room. He picked up a CD case from the shelf and they headed down the hall.
*** *** ***
"Mac, I don’t mean to insult you, but you DO know how to cop a feel don’t
you?”
Next to her in the elevator Rose’s tall companion in the fatigues blushed lightly, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets.
“Well of course I do, I just don’t normally manhandle anyone but Gill!” he hissed, unsure if they were being monitored.
“Fine. I may have MY face, but let’s just pretend I have your wife’s, um, assets and go for it, please,” Rose replied with dangerous sweetness. “People are starting to wonder if we’ve broken up and we want to act as normal as possible, right?” The lift slowed to a stop.
“Sooo you want me to goose--?”
“—My butt, yes.”
“Now?”
“No, when we have a witness. Any one of the posted SFs is fine. Just a quick grab and grope, nothing complicated.”
Mac bit his lip, trying to stuff down the flickering surge of testosterone that was definitely looking forward to the moment. Apparently O’Neill had fewer qualms about giving in to his inner sexist pig, and Rose didn’t seem too upset with it. Must be a perk of rank, he mused.
They turned a corner, and Mac noted two burly airmen stationed at the end of the hall. A slight nod from Rose gave him the green light—
With a soft quick step he caught up to her after letting her out of the elevator first. A casual swing of his right hand and bingo. One palm full of warm flexing muscle.
Whoa—the unexpected response of his actions caught up with Mac, and even as he managed a gentle squeeze, a sudden correlated throb between his own thighs made him twitch. Rose shot him an exasperated look for the benefit of the pair of SF, who managed not to actually smirk.
“Colonel!” she hissed. Mac dredged up an innocent smile; he could see the glint of approval deep in her blue eyes.
“Hand slipped.”
“From your pocket to my backside, colonel?” came her accusing tone as they rounded another corner. Three steps further out of sight, and Rose let her giggles out.
“Good job, but give it a little gas next time, Mac—my butt’s not made of glass you know.”
“Yeah—“ he weakly agreed, gritting his teeth. She took that as a sign of nervousness and held up her palm, stopping them right before the door. Slowly, Rose took Mac’s hand and brought it back into warm direct contact with the curvy swell of her bottom as she stared up into his face.
“Squeeze,” she ordered. Mac swallowed and did, more firmly than before, but still it was a fairly mild caress. Rose let out a noisy sigh and reached around to HIS backside. A firm grip, and her emphatic squeeze made Mac grunt. Blood rushed to his face.
And to a few other places.
Rose arched an eyebrow.
“Come on Mac—put a little of that dominant male into it—Ooooooh!”
She jumped, as he followed directions this time, his grip tightening in a quick spasm of strength.
“That way?”
“Oh yes, that was DEFINITELY in the O’Neill category!”
The sound of applause startled them both; looking up, Mac and Rose saw Daniel, Teal’c and Carter standing in the doorway of the briefing room pointedly staring with interest at the goosing lesson.
“I sense blackmail possibilities,” Daniel murmured silkily. Rose’s eyes widened.
“You wouldn’t!”
“Indeed. Should O’Neill learn of this interaction he would be most displeased—“ Teal’c observed. Carter nodded.
“Yep. It would start with accusations of sexual harassment or blatant flirting and end with bloodshed,” she chirped, studying her fingernails. “Lots of bloodshed.”
Rose hastily peeled Mac’s hand off her butt and shot beseeching looks at each of the team in turn.
“It wasn’t LIKE that and you know it!” she pleaded. Daniel’s smirk was slightly ruthless.
“My memory fades the better I’m fed, Rose. Tarragon chicken, meatloaf, lasagna—“ he trailed off, only to have Teal’c pick it up.
“—Stroganoff, London Broil, and chili rellenos as well, Daniel Jackson.”
“Chocolate orange cake with buttercream frosting and those lit-tle candy confetti dots decorating it—“ Carter added dreamily. By this time even Mac was grinning, and Rose was shooting dirty glances all around.
“You’re evil. Every one of you—“
“What can we say—we’re Jack’s kids,” Daniel admitted with a shrug.
*** *** ***
The sound of huffing and puffing forced Gillian to open her eyes. She was on
the far side of the empty bed and rolled over.
“Mac?”
“Over here.”
Someone panted, she turned back the other way seeing a blond head appear and disappear over the edge of the bed.
Gillian started to open her mouth but then closed it again as she scooted back over to her side of the bed and peered over it.
Jack was doing sit ups, his hands tucked behind his head as he laid back down and then flexed his stomach muscles rising into a sitting position.
“Oh boy--” Gillian muttered, trying very hard not to stare but finding herself unable to turn away.
Jack was in excellent shape; his shoulders were broad, his chest well defined with strong muscles that rippled under his skin.
“Just thought I’d get a few sit ups in,” he replied with a grin as he leaned back for another one.
That statement broke into Gillian’s stare and she looked away from him, her face darkening in a blush. “Uhh yeah I can see that.”
He did several more before finally stopping, sighing as he stood up.
“Well I could use a shower now.”
“Yeah me too, nice and cold,” Gillian stated as she tucked her legs under her.
“You okay Gill?” Jack asked as he creased her brow, seeing the sudden serious expression that crossed her face.
“I’m fine,” she lied, crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing them; Gill suddenly missed her husband so badly she thought she might tear up.
“The baby?” Jack sat down beside her, his face growing concerned.
“No, baby’s just fine,” Gillian straightened up, giving her small stomach a loving pat.
Jack watched her and stretched his hand out towards it but then hesitated, not wanting to touch her without asking.
Gillian saw the question floating in his dark eyes and gently took ahold of his wrist. She placed his hand on her small belly, tracing his fingers over it.
“I can feel it move now but it’ll be a least another month ‘til you can.”
Gillian rested her head against his shoulder, sighing.
Jack turned towards her. “You miss Mac, don’t you?” He whispered, his lips touching her ear.
Gillian sighed, taking a deep breath. “Badly Jack, I just want him to come home.”
“I know. The translations?”
“I should have them done by tonight.”
Jack nodded. “Good, we can video conference Daniel at the foundation first thing in the morning.”
The thought of seeing her husband made a smile come to Gillian’s face.
“Oh good.”
*** *** ***
Gillian sat in Pete’s chair, fidgeting nervously with the bottom of her blue
t-shirt. She watched impatiently while one of the PC technicians from the 21st
floor placed the small digital camera on top of the monitor.
“Almost done Mrs. MacGyver, then you can set up your conference with this special program,” The dark haired tech replied. Gillian gave him a small smile.
“Thanks Don.”
There were butterflies in her stomach as she patiently waited for the tech to finish and the software to download.
Jack leaned against the window frame, his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing one of Mac’s Phoenix Foundation t-shirt, the couple looking like twins in their t-shirts and jeans.
“It’ll be just a few minutes Mac,” Gillian said over her shoulder to Jack.
Jack sighed. Nice as the Foundation folks had been, he was still wary of the security and tired of the charade. The fact that they needed to set this up in the first place grated on him a little. Hell, just waking up BLONDE was still hard to take. He looked over at Gill and tried to smile, but it was forced. Hers was just as uncomfortable.
"Maybe you ought to come sit down--" she advised, patting the chair next to her. Jack crossed over and sat down. The tech gave him a mic and he pinned it on.
"In just a few moments--" he advised.
Gillian nodded as she too accepted the small black mic and put it on the collar
of her t-shirt.
“I know.” She reached down and touched his hand. Things had been getting more
and more difficult for her too. This game had been going on for five days and
they were the longest of her life.
“There, all set. Do you know how to run the program?” Don asked, dusting off his hands.
“Yeah I’ve used it before,” Gillian said with a slight smile, just wishing the tech would go so they could get to it.
“All right then call if you have any problems.”
He raised his hand and disappeared through the office door, closing it behind him.
Jack sighed in relief and hooked up the scanner to the phone line and flipped it on—static poured through the speakers.
Suddenly the low reassuring sound of Hammond's voice came through, the static disappearing; a shot of the briefing table showed up on the screen.
"Colonel O'Neill, good to have you with us."
"Likewise, general--" Jack muttered, straining to see who was around the table. Ah, there she was. Rose didn't wave, but her smile warmed him completely. At his side, Gill sighed and Jack knew she'd locked gazes with Mac. Carter, Teal'c and Daniel were there too, looking tired and serious.
"So what's up, kids?" he asked nonchalantly. Hammond shifted his gaze to Daniel, who cleared his throat.
"Our time, Jack--I've got some theories about the translations--"
Gillian nodded. “Daniel I’ve got a lot to tell you too. The other language is Carian. That’s why you didn’t recognize it.”
“Of course! I’ve heard about there being a few Carian tribes being in Egypt but the academic community was convinced no records of the language survived,” Daniel pushed up his glasses, reaching you to adjust the camera a little.
“It is, but Indy and I went on a dig in Turkey and found some tablets. They were destroyed in shipping but I kept a detailed record of the language.”
Daniel nodded, his expression brightening as another piece of the puzzle fell into place.
"Okay, that makes sense now. The lines are alternating languages, probably as a security measure--"
"--Security for WHAT?" O'Neill broke in impatiently. Carter gave Daniel's arm a pat and spoke up.
"For the obelisk itself, sir. Daniel's translations have indicated that it's quite probably the weapon in question."
"Ah."
Gill brushed her hair behind her ear and frowned.
"Alternating lines, Daniel?"
"So it seems--"
"Then let me send you my records--"
"Whoah! Wait a minute, let's not breach security--" Rose commented softly.
“I think Rose is right, the foundation has one of the most sophisticated security system for the network but it still might not be totally safe.”
Gillian gazed at Daniel through the monitor as she spoke to him.
“According to what I translated the obelisk has something to do with the Stargate.”
Daniel nodded, as did Carter. Rose frowned. Jack drew in a deep breath.
"And? So? Therefore?"
“Therefore, I suggest you might need to take a trip to Colorado VERY soon--" Daniel blurted. Gill brightened, and on the screen, Mac smiled.
"Oh yesssss!"
"We can send a team to escort you--" Hammond suggested, but Jack shook his head.
"All due respect sir, a team would be a red flag to the NID. Better that Gill and I try and go under the wire on this one."
Rose nodded, "I concur."
“Great! When do you want us out there? We can hop a plane this afternoon.” Her excitement clear, Gillian wiggled in her chair like a little girl; her heart beating hard as the thought of seeing her husband soon.
Jack watched her, raising an eyebrow. “Steady there Gill, we can’t just run out and flag down the first plane to Colorado. We’re going to need at least three days to find a reason to go that won’t arouse suspicion.”
Gillian seemed to deflate, her shoulders slumping. “Three days?”
*** *** ***
“Go through the Gate?” Mac shot a panicked look at Hammond, who returned a
sympathetic but bleak one. They were in Hammond’s office, and Mac was toying
gently with the prop of one of the model planes. Hammond thought briefly how
much the gesture was like Jack’s.
“I’m afraid so—the Tok’ra feel very strongly about the presence of SG1 at
this funeral, colonel. You won’t be required to speak during the ceremony, and
both Jacob Carter and Ms MacGyver will be right with you at all times.”
“But—can’t I just—call in sick?” Mac muttered.
“No. And that’s an order.”
Mac stood before the event horizon, stunned at the sheer beauty of the thing,
the marvel of concrete physics in a fluid form. He looks sideways at Carter,
who smiled in complete understanding.
“Yessir, it’s still pretty magnificent,” she murmured, mindful of the audience watching from the window high above and behind them. Mac straightened his shoulders and peeked the other way at Rose. She looked somberly seductive in a black suit, and gave him a nod.
“You’re good to go, Colonel—“ she reassured him as Carter, Daniel and
Teal’c stepped briskly through the gate. Mac drew in a deep breath and stepped
through.
The dis and re intergration of his molecules took less than two minutes, but by the time he stumbled through the Tok’ra gate, Mac was gasping. He quickly brushed the hoarfrost from his face and straightened up, tingling. Rose was at his side in an instant, straightening his dress uniform and whispering in his ear.
“Don’t throw up—whatEVER you do, please Mac, don’t throw up—“
“W-won’t but can’t say I’m not tempted!” he replied. Carter and Daniel moved over to Mac as well, flanking him protectively as the Tok’ra honor guard approached them.
All in all it went well. Mac stood and listened and managed to be a stoic presence all through the ceremony. The service for the Fallen was impressive and eloquent, honoring all who had died for the Cause. Fortunately, it wasn’t a time for small talk, so both Carter and MacGyver managed to get by with the briefest of conversations; even Jacob was fairly quiet.
“Nice to see you still fit in your Class As, Jack—“ had been the only amused comment. Mac managed a small frown, which seemed to be the reaction Jacob had been waiting for; he grinned. Carter stepped in.
“Oh I don’t know, Dad—looks like Selmac’s been letting you hit the cookie
jar—“
“That’s no way to speak to your father—although I suspect you’re probably right,” he grumbled.
The trip back was much easier; Mac managed to imitate Jack’s insouciant stroll back down the ramp. Carter breathed a sigh of relief, and Rose patted his shoulder.
“Good job, Mac—although Jack can be a bit of a smart aleck, he does follow protocol faithfully, especially for serious events like this.”
“Yeah, I thought bringing a yoyo would be a bit much, even for him—“ Mac replied.
When they walked into the infirmary, there seemed to be much more activity than usual; Janet sailed towards them with a smile that could only be described as predatory.
“Colonel. Major. Ms Clowderbock—“ she purred, mindful of others listening
in, “So glad you could make it for the blood drive.”
Daniel paled, and managed to duck behind Teal’c, who pretended not to notice.
Rose winced.
“You know I'm going to pass out—“
“—But you’ll be the first to give. You always are,” Janet’s smile grew warmer and she looked at Carter and MacGyver. Mac shrugged.
“By all means, Doc—another day, another needle—“ he sighed.
Janet cleared her throat.
“Daniel, Teal’c isn’t going to stand there forever, and the sooner this is over, the sooner you can get back to your office.”
“I thought this was a voluntary blood drive!” he protested faintly from behind the Jaffa. Janet nodded.
“It is—General Hammond volunteered yours.”
Mac stretched out on the infirmary bed, pleased to be out of Jack’s jacket
and as comfortable as a man with a tube in his arm could be. Giving blood was
no big deal; he’d done it plenty of times for the Foundation and knew the drill.
He glanced over at the other bed, startled a glimpse of Rose, pale and unconscious.
A nurse caught his glance and sighed.
“Still a little freaky isn’t it, Colonel? She’s fine though.”
Mac bit back the urge to ask more; obviously the staff here was well aware of Rose’s little quirk, and by extension, he supposed he was as well, but the sight WAS unnerving. To cover his reaction, he shifted his glance to the other side; Daniel was stoically stretched out with his own line in, frowning.
“Doing all right, Daniel?” he called gently.
“Oh yeah, yeah—just not thrilled to be here—Janet’s already talking about naming one of these beds for me—“
Mac laughed; he couldn’t help it. As he worked up some sort of reply that would be appropriately Jack, a nurse smoothly clamped off the tube and began to withdraw the needle.
“Just a few minutes colonel, and you can go get your cookies and orange
juice—Monahan?”
This was to the orderly, who took the warm plastic pouch she handed to him.
“O positive, right?” he scribbled on the label.
“A,” Mac blurted inadvertently. The nurse grinned.
“Nice joke, Colonel O’Neill, but get real. How are you doing over there Doctor Jackson?”
“Fine, fine—“ he sighed, watching the tube on his arm. Mac pressed the gauze
into the crook of his elbow and sat up, tracking the orderly out of the room.
He glanced at the nurse.
“Could I see Doctor Frasier a moment?”
“Of course—hang on, sir—“
Within a minute, Janet was back, looking concerned. Mac motioned her closer and dropped his voice low.
“I think my donation just got mistyped—“
Janet’s brown eyes widened and she gave a thoughtful nod.
“Good save—sir. I’ll make sure it’s retyped before we store it.”
*** *** ***