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Janet Alphabet Soup: R is for...
One for the Soup and one for a bonus!
R is for Radiation
Janet’s skin is crawling and her stomach churns, reminding her forcefully of Machello’s little anti-Goa’uld bugs. She’s feeling the same feverish desperation now, and the same horrible feeling of being completely out of control. This time, however, she’s not the patient, and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. Every time she looks at Daniel, she feels worse, but she can’t stop, wouldn’t even if she could. In the years of her service at the SGC, she’s been congratulated for her empathy, her resourcefulness, her determination, and her nick-of-time cures.
She’s ready to curse her empathy now, which she knows, and General Hammond knows is simply a word to cover the fact that she’s grown to care for every serviceman, woman, and civilian under her care, some of them far too deeply. Just like radiation, they get in under her skin, and there’s no protection left for her against Sam’s ready smile, Jack’s flippant attitude, Teal’c’s polite disdain for medical assistance, or Daniel’s weary ‘here I am again’ resigned shrug.
God, Daniel-he’s here, trying so hard to hold on to some level of dignity, but she knows he’s doing it as much for her as any other reason. She’s the only one here right now: the others are off yelling at the Kelownans, and Daniel’s holding it together because he’s always been too intelligent for his own good, and he knows everything she’s not saying as she wraps gauze carefully around his arm. She bites her lip to keep from cursing her absolute inability to do anything, rage and regret trading blows on her consciousness.
“Janet,” he says softly, and she blinks hard before meeting his gaze. When he sees he has her attention he nods slowly. He’s always been good at reading people-a skill she can only approximate with her X-rays and MRIs.
“I would do it again,” he says. “It had to be done, and I would do it again.” His hand tightens on hers where she’s unconsciously taken hold, and she nods. He’s burning hot as a small sun, and she thinks there will never be a day to come when she won’t close her eyes and see the afterglow.
= = = = =
R is for Recovery
“Now Daniel,” Janet put on her best ‘listen to the doctor or regret it’ expression. “Next time, try not to get sat on by any Jaffa.”
Daniel chuckled as he pulled his shirt back on slowly over the fading bruises across his ribs. He flexed his wrist slowly in its lightweight brace and ducked his head before looking up with a grin. “So I should tell Teal’c that the next time we get caught in a mudslide he’s on his own?”
“Doctor’s orders,” Janet replied with a smile of her own. “No more hairline fractures in that arm or those ribs for at least six months, young man. Give them a rest, understand?”
“Does that mean I get to keep getting Jack to type up my reports for me? He’s really been enjoying the dictation.” Daniel’s eyes gleamed and Janet laughed.
Sam’s voice broke in to the conversation as she rounded the corner into the infirmary. “I just bet he loved getting to type up your explanation of how you caught your legs on a branch and threw yourself across what was left of the path to catch Teal’c as he came sliding down.”
Daniel frowned. “He made it sound like something out of Indiana Jones. I had to make him rewrite it three times. Jack’s first version had Teal’c out cold and me hanging from my ankles above a raging river.”
“Teal’c was dazed when he hit his head on that rock, Daniel, and he would have fallen a lot farther before landing in that stream if you hadn’t made yourself into a roadblock.”
Janet thought Sam sounded as if she rather liked the colonel’s version. She shook her head. “All right, Daniel, you’re all set. Wear the brace for at least the next week, but I think you’ll be able to type your own reports from now on.”
Daniel thanked her and hopped off the table, mind clearly already on his artifacts as he headed purposefully out of the infirmary, leaving Janet and Sam staring after him in his wake.
Janet caught Sam’s eye and they shared a conspiratorial smile.
“Hate to see him go, love to watch him leave, right?” Sam said with an exaggerated leer.
Janet thought about the number of times her charges came in to her infirmary and left in body bags, and then thought about the cheerful death-defying, colonel-irritating, reckless force that was Daniel Jackson.
“Always,” Janet smiled.
R is for Radiation
Janet’s skin is crawling and her stomach churns, reminding her forcefully of Machello’s little anti-Goa’uld bugs. She’s feeling the same feverish desperation now, and the same horrible feeling of being completely out of control. This time, however, she’s not the patient, and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. Every time she looks at Daniel, she feels worse, but she can’t stop, wouldn’t even if she could. In the years of her service at the SGC, she’s been congratulated for her empathy, her resourcefulness, her determination, and her nick-of-time cures.
She’s ready to curse her empathy now, which she knows, and General Hammond knows is simply a word to cover the fact that she’s grown to care for every serviceman, woman, and civilian under her care, some of them far too deeply. Just like radiation, they get in under her skin, and there’s no protection left for her against Sam’s ready smile, Jack’s flippant attitude, Teal’c’s polite disdain for medical assistance, or Daniel’s weary ‘here I am again’ resigned shrug.
God, Daniel-he’s here, trying so hard to hold on to some level of dignity, but she knows he’s doing it as much for her as any other reason. She’s the only one here right now: the others are off yelling at the Kelownans, and Daniel’s holding it together because he’s always been too intelligent for his own good, and he knows everything she’s not saying as she wraps gauze carefully around his arm. She bites her lip to keep from cursing her absolute inability to do anything, rage and regret trading blows on her consciousness.
“Janet,” he says softly, and she blinks hard before meeting his gaze. When he sees he has her attention he nods slowly. He’s always been good at reading people-a skill she can only approximate with her X-rays and MRIs.
“I would do it again,” he says. “It had to be done, and I would do it again.” His hand tightens on hers where she’s unconsciously taken hold, and she nods. He’s burning hot as a small sun, and she thinks there will never be a day to come when she won’t close her eyes and see the afterglow.
= = = = =
R is for Recovery
“Now Daniel,” Janet put on her best ‘listen to the doctor or regret it’ expression. “Next time, try not to get sat on by any Jaffa.”
Daniel chuckled as he pulled his shirt back on slowly over the fading bruises across his ribs. He flexed his wrist slowly in its lightweight brace and ducked his head before looking up with a grin. “So I should tell Teal’c that the next time we get caught in a mudslide he’s on his own?”
“Doctor’s orders,” Janet replied with a smile of her own. “No more hairline fractures in that arm or those ribs for at least six months, young man. Give them a rest, understand?”
“Does that mean I get to keep getting Jack to type up my reports for me? He’s really been enjoying the dictation.” Daniel’s eyes gleamed and Janet laughed.
Sam’s voice broke in to the conversation as she rounded the corner into the infirmary. “I just bet he loved getting to type up your explanation of how you caught your legs on a branch and threw yourself across what was left of the path to catch Teal’c as he came sliding down.”
Daniel frowned. “He made it sound like something out of Indiana Jones. I had to make him rewrite it three times. Jack’s first version had Teal’c out cold and me hanging from my ankles above a raging river.”
“Teal’c was dazed when he hit his head on that rock, Daniel, and he would have fallen a lot farther before landing in that stream if you hadn’t made yourself into a roadblock.”
Janet thought Sam sounded as if she rather liked the colonel’s version. She shook her head. “All right, Daniel, you’re all set. Wear the brace for at least the next week, but I think you’ll be able to type your own reports from now on.”
Daniel thanked her and hopped off the table, mind clearly already on his artifacts as he headed purposefully out of the infirmary, leaving Janet and Sam staring after him in his wake.
Janet caught Sam’s eye and they shared a conspiratorial smile.
“Hate to see him go, love to watch him leave, right?” Sam said with an exaggerated leer.
Janet thought about the number of times her charges came in to her infirmary and left in body bags, and then thought about the cheerful death-defying, colonel-irritating, reckless force that was Daniel Jackson.
“Always,” Janet smiled.