Medical Directives (Daniel/Janet, PG-13)
Title: Medical Directives
Author: cnidarian
Recipient: faraday_in_gray
Prompt chosen: Daniel Jackson/Janet Fraiser; see author notes.
Rating/warnings, etc: PG-13, humour, mild suggestion, 1000 words.
Author's Notes: This isn’t what was requested at all, other than the pairing. October contained some heavy RL dramadrama and, in my scrabbling to get it done, it became apparent that the proper story was going to be too big to finish in time. I wrote this so as not to hold the ficathon up. The real story needs a little longer in the oven, but will follow soon, I promise. Personal apologies to faraday_in_gray; think of it as two fics for the price of one. :)
Thanks to Cole for the beta and Havoc for the patience.
--
“Right, stay seated and take this. Just don’t tell Jonas.”
Daniel blinked, nonplussed both by the appearance of a banana and by the addendum linking it to the Kelownan scientist.
“Um…” He blinked again at the proffered object and tilted his head to look up at Janet. “I’m fairly sure I couldn’t, even if I wanted to, seeing as I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”
Janet’s response was muttered under her breath, something about aliens and their healthy potassium intake. Daniel thought of Teal’c and the large quantities of orange juice he kept in his fridge for Jaffa-related special occasions.
Still bewildered, he took the fruit from Janet’s grasp and eyed it suspiciously. “Please tell me we’re not practising a Sex Ed presentation for Cassie.” If Janet had a condom in her other hand, he was so making a beeline for the door.
“Nope,” she said, trying to keep the stern expression on her face and failing slightly. A smirk twitched at her lips, becoming a fully-fledged grin as she rolled her eyes.
He raised his eyebrows, encouraging her to elaborate further. Her grin took on a decidedly wicked edge. He resisted the urge to squirm.
“You’re going to mutilate it, at least the first time, and I am going to watch,” she explained levelly.
He choked a little. Sex-Ed was suddenly looking really agreeable.
“Can I get a rain check?” he requested, feebly. It occurred to him that maybe Janet wasn’t actually Janet at all. A pod person, perhaps? Stranger things had happened.
“No.” The firm shake of her head made it doubly clear he had no hope of escape. “You’re going to keep going,” she continued sweetly, “until I’m satisfied that the sutures will hold, even if you were to throw the banana at high speed through, let’s say, a Stargate.”
“Ah,” he said, rather inanely.
He had been hoping to spend the day with her, relaxing and enjoying their shared downtime. This wasn’t quite what he had had in mind. The earlier quizzing about his plans for the rest of the morning suddenly started making sense.
Currently, she was looming over him and that wasn’t his definition of relaxing at all. How exactly did she loom from that height anyway? He considered standing up to redress the balance. The idea was instantly dismissed on account of it never having worked before. He didn’t suppose this time would be any exception. Through their years of close friendship, he frequently got to see Janet outside of work, where she didn’t need her doctor persona. And now that they were practically living together, it was easy to forget that she was, in fact, a Major in the Air Force and thus rather good at giving commands without letting her height interfere.
Instead, he tried to make himself appear smaller. She regarded him with a mix of innocent expectation and determined reproach.
As he was trying to think of something to say - an excuse, a placation, anything - she reached over the table towards the bowl in the middle.
“And then we’re going to go over administering injections. Again.” She hefted an orange, forcing him to catch it awkwardly.
He supposed a lecture had been inevitable, coming as it was on the back of an unfortunate incident involving Sam, a poorly-stitched laceration, and a hastily-beat retreat back to Earth, ending with a group face-plant onto the mesh of the gate ramp. Still, he hadn’t expected the lesson to be so impromptu. Or fruity. He eyed the bowl and its butternut squash fearfully.
He needed a diversion. His mission-honed brain kicked into overdrive. The med kit taunted him from the countertop. Janet spun on her heel and began rummaging. A suture kit appeared first, then some needles. As she was about to turn back, he made his decision and launched himself in her direction.
In hindsight, he should’ve considered the tiled floor. Or his sock-clad feet. Preferably both. He careened sideways into Janet, prompting a faint oof as his elbow landed between her shoulder blades. Crap.
“Uh, sorry!” he apologised into her hair.
Gripping the counter, he helped her out of her ungainly sprawl. She turned within the brace of his arms and peered up at him.
“Evidently, your CPR needs some work, too,” she observed tartly.
“Janet, can’t we just…”
She waved an empty hand in his face. “What if I had been holding sciss-?”
He pressed his lips to hers. She stiffened and then curled her hand to his cheek, melting against him. His CPR was just fine, thank you very much. When he pulled back, he was surprised to find her looking excessively pleased with herself.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and sifted her fingers through the short hair at the back of his head. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that all morning,” she revealed.
“You have? But, you’ve been so…medically focused.”
She snorted. “Now you appreciate how difficult it can be to get you to stop working!”
Touché.
“I meant what I said, though,” she added, sobering. “I still want you to get better at suturing.”
“And CPR?” he asked, hopefully.
“Maybe.” Her grin was elusive. “Depends when Doctor Warner has free schedule space...”
“You’re welcome to ask him,” Daniel bluffed. “Somehow I can’t imagine he’s going to be as amenable, though…”
“But he does have a greater selection of fruit,” Janet purported, her eyes twinkling with repressed mirth.
“Oh no. Not more bananas. Please!” He was only half-kidding. He was never going to look at fruit in the same way again.
“Nothing wrong with bananas,” she said, glancing down meaningfully.
“You,” he felt compelled to point out, “are positively evil.”
“You,” she returned, “wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It was true, he acknowledged, as she stretched up on her toes to bring their faces level. It wasn’t quite enough so he leaned down and met her half-way. The kiss was leisurely, lingering sweetly, and he was reminded that they had the whole afternoon to themselves.
Shared downtime. Now this, this was more like it.
Author: cnidarian
Recipient: faraday_in_gray
Prompt chosen: Daniel Jackson/Janet Fraiser; see author notes.
Rating/warnings, etc: PG-13, humour, mild suggestion, 1000 words.
Author's Notes: This isn’t what was requested at all, other than the pairing. October contained some heavy RL dramadrama and, in my scrabbling to get it done, it became apparent that the proper story was going to be too big to finish in time. I wrote this so as not to hold the ficathon up. The real story needs a little longer in the oven, but will follow soon, I promise. Personal apologies to faraday_in_gray; think of it as two fics for the price of one. :)
Thanks to Cole for the beta and Havoc for the patience.
--
“Right, stay seated and take this. Just don’t tell Jonas.”
Daniel blinked, nonplussed both by the appearance of a banana and by the addendum linking it to the Kelownan scientist.
“Um…” He blinked again at the proffered object and tilted his head to look up at Janet. “I’m fairly sure I couldn’t, even if I wanted to, seeing as I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”
Janet’s response was muttered under her breath, something about aliens and their healthy potassium intake. Daniel thought of Teal’c and the large quantities of orange juice he kept in his fridge for Jaffa-related special occasions.
Still bewildered, he took the fruit from Janet’s grasp and eyed it suspiciously. “Please tell me we’re not practising a Sex Ed presentation for Cassie.” If Janet had a condom in her other hand, he was so making a beeline for the door.
“Nope,” she said, trying to keep the stern expression on her face and failing slightly. A smirk twitched at her lips, becoming a fully-fledged grin as she rolled her eyes.
He raised his eyebrows, encouraging her to elaborate further. Her grin took on a decidedly wicked edge. He resisted the urge to squirm.
“You’re going to mutilate it, at least the first time, and I am going to watch,” she explained levelly.
He choked a little. Sex-Ed was suddenly looking really agreeable.
“Can I get a rain check?” he requested, feebly. It occurred to him that maybe Janet wasn’t actually Janet at all. A pod person, perhaps? Stranger things had happened.
“No.” The firm shake of her head made it doubly clear he had no hope of escape. “You’re going to keep going,” she continued sweetly, “until I’m satisfied that the sutures will hold, even if you were to throw the banana at high speed through, let’s say, a Stargate.”
“Ah,” he said, rather inanely.
He had been hoping to spend the day with her, relaxing and enjoying their shared downtime. This wasn’t quite what he had had in mind. The earlier quizzing about his plans for the rest of the morning suddenly started making sense.
Currently, she was looming over him and that wasn’t his definition of relaxing at all. How exactly did she loom from that height anyway? He considered standing up to redress the balance. The idea was instantly dismissed on account of it never having worked before. He didn’t suppose this time would be any exception. Through their years of close friendship, he frequently got to see Janet outside of work, where she didn’t need her doctor persona. And now that they were practically living together, it was easy to forget that she was, in fact, a Major in the Air Force and thus rather good at giving commands without letting her height interfere.
Instead, he tried to make himself appear smaller. She regarded him with a mix of innocent expectation and determined reproach.
As he was trying to think of something to say - an excuse, a placation, anything - she reached over the table towards the bowl in the middle.
“And then we’re going to go over administering injections. Again.” She hefted an orange, forcing him to catch it awkwardly.
He supposed a lecture had been inevitable, coming as it was on the back of an unfortunate incident involving Sam, a poorly-stitched laceration, and a hastily-beat retreat back to Earth, ending with a group face-plant onto the mesh of the gate ramp. Still, he hadn’t expected the lesson to be so impromptu. Or fruity. He eyed the bowl and its butternut squash fearfully.
He needed a diversion. His mission-honed brain kicked into overdrive. The med kit taunted him from the countertop. Janet spun on her heel and began rummaging. A suture kit appeared first, then some needles. As she was about to turn back, he made his decision and launched himself in her direction.
In hindsight, he should’ve considered the tiled floor. Or his sock-clad feet. Preferably both. He careened sideways into Janet, prompting a faint oof as his elbow landed between her shoulder blades. Crap.
“Uh, sorry!” he apologised into her hair.
Gripping the counter, he helped her out of her ungainly sprawl. She turned within the brace of his arms and peered up at him.
“Evidently, your CPR needs some work, too,” she observed tartly.
“Janet, can’t we just…”
She waved an empty hand in his face. “What if I had been holding sciss-?”
He pressed his lips to hers. She stiffened and then curled her hand to his cheek, melting against him. His CPR was just fine, thank you very much. When he pulled back, he was surprised to find her looking excessively pleased with herself.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and sifted her fingers through the short hair at the back of his head. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that all morning,” she revealed.
“You have? But, you’ve been so…medically focused.”
She snorted. “Now you appreciate how difficult it can be to get you to stop working!”
Touché.
“I meant what I said, though,” she added, sobering. “I still want you to get better at suturing.”
“And CPR?” he asked, hopefully.
“Maybe.” Her grin was elusive. “Depends when Doctor Warner has free schedule space...”
“You’re welcome to ask him,” Daniel bluffed. “Somehow I can’t imagine he’s going to be as amenable, though…”
“But he does have a greater selection of fruit,” Janet purported, her eyes twinkling with repressed mirth.
“Oh no. Not more bananas. Please!” He was only half-kidding. He was never going to look at fruit in the same way again.
“Nothing wrong with bananas,” she said, glancing down meaningfully.
“You,” he felt compelled to point out, “are positively evil.”
“You,” she returned, “wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It was true, he acknowledged, as she stretched up on her toes to bring their faces level. It wasn’t quite enough so he leaned down and met her half-way. The kiss was leisurely, lingering sweetly, and he was reminded that they had the whole afternoon to themselves.
Shared downtime. Now this, this was more like it.