SUMMARY: Sometimes you find warmth
in the strangest places.
SEASON/SPOILERS: Any season. No spoilers.
NOTES: This is all Devra's fault. Really :).
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
It was hard to ignore the coughing. The
harsh sounds carried well, sounded dreadful. As they sounded even
more horrible when said person doing the coughing poked their
head into the living room. He shifted the sport section of the
"I thought you were trying to sleep."
"Couldn't. I kept waking myself up."
"No wonder. I'm surprised we haven't been getting complaints from the neighbors with that cough. Did you-"
"Yes, Jack, I took the cough syrup. Took the antibiotics. Even," he paused to cough into his sleeve, "used the inhaler, which I hate, thank-you-very-much."
"Good." Jack shifted his position opening up a seat on the couch. "Sit down before you fall down."
"I can't look that bad." Daniel ran a hand through his hair. "Although if I look anything like I feel "
"Trust me. You do."
"Thanks for the wonderful compliment." He sagged into the couch cushions and Jack lifted his eyes once again from his newspaper. Daniel looked, well, sick. Black circles under the eyes, hair sticking up, sans glasses, and dressed to the nines in long sleeved flannel pajamas, complete with white socks and fuzzy gray slippers on his feet.
"Those are my slippers, you know."
"I know. I bought them for you. Didn't think you'd mind."
"Of course not."
He saw Daniel sigh and lean his head against the arm of the couch, then flip himself over and tuck his knees up so he was lying on his back. He coughed, sneezed, reached out for the tissues on the coffee table, spit, and dumped the dirty sheet back on the tabletop.
"I feel like crap."
"I think we've established that. And Daniel, that's disgusting."
"The garbage is so far away."
"It's not that far. You could at least try and throw it."
"And miss. Then my germs would be on the floor."
"Instead of the coffee table?"
Daniel's response was to start coughing again, use another tissue and put it beside the first one. Jack stared at them a moment before he shoved his paper down and picked them, depositing them in the small wastepaper basket next to the TV.
Daniel smirked. "I knew you couldn't stand to see them there."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You know, if I didn't know better I'd say you planned that."
"Who's saying I didn't."
"Oh you're lucky you're sick."
"Uh huh," Daniel responded as Jack settled back on the couch. He picked up the paper and was halfway through the cover article on the new hockey season when he felt fuzz nudging his backside. He looked down to see Daniel trying to wiggle his toes under his posterior.
"Daniel," he said with a completely straight face, "Is there something you are trying to tell me?"
"My feet are cold."
Jack blinked. "Okay. And this involves my ass in what way exactly?"
"Warmest place in the house really." Jack felt him curl his toes and bit his lip at the sensation.
"You need to shift a little."
"Shift? Oh, okay." The toes moved and Daniel sighed contentedly. Jack tried to concentrate on reading.
"Oh yeah. Just right." The toes curled again. Jack
"Get better. Soon."
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