Where's the Fanfare?
By
Denise

Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

"Be sure to clean it, we were a little…short on supplies," Jack told the Sargent, handing the man his rifle, frowning a bit at the look on the man's face.

"Yes, sir." The Sargent took a quick step back, bumping into one of the many technicians that always seem to hang out in the gateroom. One of these days Jack really needed to find out what they were doing.

He heard a snigger and turned to see Carter doing the same, an amused look on her face. "Carter? What's so funny?"

"Nothing, sir, nothing at all." She handed her weapon over and headed for the large door.

"Aahah, right." Jack hurried to catch up with her, frowning a bit as the personnel in the halls scurried out of their way. She strode purposefully down the corridor, reaching into her pocket to pull out her passkey to call the elevator. The door pinged as it opened and she stepped in, followed by Jack and Teal'c. She pushed the button for level 21 and leaned against the wall, bringing her hand up to her face and coughing a bit.

She frowned as the door opened at level 21 and Jack followed her and Teal'c towards the infirmary. "Aah, sir. I thought you were headed towards the showers?"

Jack shrugged. "Might as well get Fraiser out of the way, then I can shower in peace."

"Are you sure that is wise, O'Neill?" Jack shot him a look. "Doctor Fraiser can be most formidable."

"Formidable, schmidable. I got her right here." Jack held up his grubby right hand, frowning at Sam's sudden coughing fit.

"I heard you were back," Janet said, smiling at her friends as they strolled into the infirmary. She looked them up and down carefully. "All in once piece I guess?"

"I think Carter broke a nail but other than that, nothing happened," Jack said, hopping up on one of the beds. "We're just here to get the requisite shots in our butts so we can go get some hot food and a shower."

Janet stepped forward, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck. She got near him, then paused and made a face, taking a big step back. "You know, sir. I can really only examine one of you at a time. Why don't you go hit the showers and I'll start with Sam."

"Awe come on Doc. I finish here, I can take a nice long shower without holding you up."

"I appreciate your consideration of my schedule but…I'll survive. Shower, Colonel. Now," she said making shooing motions with her hands.

"I have often said that Doctor Fraiser is most wise in such matters," Teal'c said smugly crossing his arms across his chest.

"This sucks," Jack complained, jumping off the bed. "Save the world and not only do we not get any fanfare, I get insulted as well." He frumped out of the infirmary ignoring the faint laugher that followed him.

He made a beeline for the locker room. She wanted him to shower huh? He would SO shower.
Stomping into the locker room, he threw the lock on the door. He shucked his vest as he walked, tossing it in front of his locker. He'd clean out the pockets and send it down to the laundry later. He sat down, his fingers fumbling with the ties on his boots. He placed his heel against the toe of his other foot and pulled, using his foot to pry the heavy leather boot off. Repeating the procedure with the other foot he kicked the boots aside not noticing the tiny clumps of dirt that fell out of the tread.

He bent over and snagged his fingers into the cuff of his socks, pulling them off inside out. They were tossed in a separate pile from his boots and he wrinkled his nose a bit. Ok…he had to admit…his feet stank.
He crossed his arms across his chest, grabbing the hem of his shirt. He pulled it off, tossing it atop the socks.

He stood up, feeling goosebumps rise as the cool air from the vent slid across his bare back. He unbuttoned his khaki's, grimacing at the stains on them. They were ruined. Why couldn't Thor ever snag him when he was wearing nice replaceable fatigues? He kicked them over to where his shirt was lying and slid his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, smoothly sliding them down his legs.

His toes curling against the cool tile floor, he reached for his towel and shampoo. He picked up the bottle and shook it. Empty. Damn. He had been going to bring some more from home before Thor'd struck. Shrugging, he grabbed his shower kit and crossed the small room to Daniel's locker. He grabbed the man's shower gel and net scrubby, smiling as he read the label. "Ocean Breeze. Sweet, Daniel."

He walked into the showers, his bare feet gently slapping the tiles. Hanging his towel safely out of the way, he set his kit on the small shelf and turned on the water, cursing as cold spray hit his chest. He adjusted the temperature, sighing as the water quickly warmed and steam wafted into the air.

He ducked his head under the spray, closing his eyes as hot water streamed down his neck and chest. He turned his face up and opened his mouth, gurgling the water. Spitting it out, he wiped the water out of his eyes and reached for Daniel's gel and scrubby. Squirting a generous amount onto the royal blue netting, he rubbed it between his hands, breathing in deep as a clean, slightly tangy scent wafted into the air.

Turning his back to the spray, he grabbed the scrubby in his right hand and scrubbed his left hand and arm, dipping into his armpit and rubbing vigorously. He scrubbed it across his chest then switched hands, scrubbing his right arm next.

He bent over, moaning in pleasure as the hot spray caressed his lower back and he scrubbed his legs running his fingers through the sparse, coarse hair there. Turning around he twisted his arms and tried to scrub his back, sighing as he imagined the layers of sweat and grime being washed from his skin. Using the suction cup on the scrubby, he stuck it to the wall and grabbed the gel again, squirting another portion into his hand. He stuck his hand between his legs gently shampooing the hair there. Bringing up his hand, he rinsed it off in the spray then reached for his kit.

Nimble fingers found his can of foam and he sprayed some of it into his palm. He then rolled the soft airy substance between his fingers before he smeared it on his face. He rinsed the shaving foam off his hands and pulled his razor out of the bag. Flipping the safety guard back, he quickly shaved, carefully removing the stubble from the last several days. He ran his hand over his now smooth cheeks, sighing in relief. It felt good to remove the irritating stubble. It'd driven him so nuts that he'd tried to do the old 'blade of the knife' trick on their third day…and nearly beheaded himself. Given the choice between itching and bleeding to death, he decided to itch.

He set the razor aside and grabbed the bottle of shower gel again, this time squirting it directly on top of his head. He snapped the lid shut and brought both of his hands up, massaging his scalp with his fingertips, grimacing as they encountered the occasional bit of grit or sand.

Finished scrubbing, he dunked his head under the water and watched as fluffy white bubbles ran off his legs and swirled down the drain. Hot water…one of the best things about civilization, hot steaming water. Rubbing his hand through his hair to make sure he'd rinsed out all the soap he leaned back swiping the extra water off his face. He took a step back to make sure the spray hit him in the groin. He casually scrubbed; insuring all the soap was rinsed from the hair there. Nothing was worse than missing some soap and getting that irritating soap induced itch, especially in a place where it could get him arrested to scratch, or at least a few dirty looks.

He turned under the water again, making sure he was totally soap free. He stood there, bracing his hands against he wall and let his muscles relax. For the first time in over a week he could truly relax. All the worst case scenarios he'd run through his head hadn't come to pass. The replicators were evidetally gone, Earth was safe, his people were safe. Daniel had recovered from his surgery. Damn, what if Thor had grabbed him last week? If Daniel had been with them and his appendix had burst off world, would they have been able to find help fast enough? What if Carter or Teal'c had been hurt on the Biliskner? Or on the planet. There had been no nasty predators there or angry natives but they really hadn't known that at the time. The planet had been uninhabited when it'd last been surveyed but that didn't mean anything. The first time they went to the Tollan home world everythign had been fine, and they'd gone through the gate to a front row seat at Pompeii reenacted. All in all, they'd been lucky, so very, very lucky.

He then reluctantly turned off the faucet, fighting the temptation to stand there for another thirty minutes or so. He shook his head and padded over to snag his towel. Rubbing the worst of the moisture out of his hair he gave his chest a cursory swipe with the towel rubbing the soft terry cloth over his skin. Drying his arm he casually made a fist and tensed his biceps. Not too damned bad for a forty year old colonel with a few too many miles on his knees. He knew a few of the wet behind the ears SF's on the base who couldn't match him. Rubbing the towel over his stomach he frowned a little and pinched his middle. Mmmhm, guess he'd been having a few too many pizza nights. More crunches, definitely needed more crunches.

Rubbing the towel between his legs he made his way to his locker, drying off his butt before he sat down. He dried off his legs, tossing the towel down on the floor so he could dry his feet. He reached into the locker and pulled out a clean pair of briefs, standing up to pull them on over his muscular legs. That was one good thing about the job, if the aliens weren't poking you fulla holes, all the walking did wonders for his legs and butt. He grabbed a pair of clean fatigues and pulled them on, privately enjoying the feeling of clean clothing. The greatest invention of the modern world…laundry soap.

Sitting back down he pulled his deodorant out of his locker and took the cap off, smearing some under each arm. And deodorant. Great stuff. Yes, he hadn't exactly been a bed of roses but neither had Carter or Teal'c. There were a few times in the last couple of nights when the wind had shifted and he'd suddenly needed to breathe through his nose. Not that he'd ever tell either of them that.

Digging out a T-shirt he pulled it over his head, running his fingers through his short hair. He needed a trim. He picked up clean socks, lifting one foot to the bench to slide them on. He paused and inspected his toes. Needed to do something about those toenails before they wrecked his socks. He put on his shoes and tossed his towel on top of his filthy clothes.

He sighed deeply and frowned into the mirror, ruffling his hair with his fingers. Yep, definitely needed a haircut. He was starting to skirt the edge of regulations, not that Hammond would ever bust him on it. He picked up his fatigue shirt, sliding it on as he walked towards the door. He'd just go debrief Hammond, and if he played his cards right, cash in a few 'we saved the world' points and ask the man for a week off. Seven glorious days of fishing, sleeping, drinking, sleeping, fishing, and more sleeping.

Opening the door, he stopped short at the sight of a mildly annoyed Carter, leaning against the far wall, her boot tapping gently on the cement floor. "Carter? I thought you were in medical?"

"Janet cleared me half an hour ago. She's waiting for you, sir," she said, pushing herself upright.

"Oh, right. Sorry," he apologized.

"That's all right, sir, I just hope you saved me some hot water." She brushed past him slipping into the locker room and locking the door.

Jack shook his head and turned on his heel, headed towards the general's office. "Colonel O'Neill, there you are." He turned to see Janet headed his way. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me or something."

"Doc, would I do that?"

"No, colonel. I know you wouldn't dream of it," she said, smiling.

"Hammond wanted me to fill him in…"

"After you clear medical," she interrupted.

"Doc, you've seen Carter and Teal'c. If there was anything on the planet to catch, they woulda caught it."

"Colonel, more excuses equals more needles," she said, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Aah, medical. Right, of course. Lead the way doc." No respect. He got absolutely no respect. Save the world and all you get for your valiant efforts was a needle in the butt. Ah well, at least it was a clean butt.

~Fin~

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