Jack had spent the morning alternately dozing and surfing the Atlantis servers, looking at the various movies that hadn't yet been properly labelled and categorised. He could at least feel somewhat useful, he supposed, and started watching, giving actual titles to files with names like 10938593.avi.
(
He'd run across a small stash of gay porn )
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"This is Dr Weir," she said to the first person who answered her call. "We need medical personnel and a gurney in the mess hall, immediately. Preferably with someone familiar with Airman Jackson's case."
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The woman was writhing beneath him once again, someone behind him, thrusting deep and hard.
"Is there anything I may do?" Dran asked, approaching the fallen man and those near him.
"No," Jack whimpered, breath coming in tearing gasps now.
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Entering the mess, she easily spotted Jackson lying on the floor with Elizabeth and Grodin crouched beside him. "Can we get some more room please," she asked those folks standing near the trio. Keeping some distance and not touching him, Kate said, "Jack, its Kate Heightmeyer. I need you to slow your breathing down. I want you to focus on," she thought for a moment, "fishing. The sounds, the smells. All about fishing."
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He thought of his cabin-- well, the other Jack's cabin-- back on Earth. The glint of light on the water, the taste of beer, the scents of fresh air and grass and sunshine, the sounds of laughing voices-- Daniel, Sam, Teal'c. Then he remembered his fishing trip with Carson, the sound of the stream, Carson's brogue, the flash of the fish as they reeled them in.
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