The halls of the SGC were strangely empty; essential duty stations were occupied but everyone else seemed to have vanished. When General Hammond finally tracked the missing members of his command to the infirmary, he was not a happy camper.
"Doctor Fraser, Major Carter." He pushed his way past the long line of waiting military and civilian personnel and broadened his glare to include both women. "Would you mind explaining what the hell is going on here?"
"Medical research, sir. You approved my request."
Dr. Fraser turned her clipboard so that he could see the signature at the bottom of the top page. It looked like his but since the number of pieces of paper he signed in a day could reach to the Nox and back without the use of the Stargate, he had absolutely no memory of what he'd signed. And damnitall, that wasn't the point. "Doctor, why don't you just pretend for a moment that I'm your commanding officer and answer my question."
"Your question?"
"An explanation?"
"Right. Well, actually, sir, we're testing the limits of a rather amazing medical phenomenon. The Jack O'Neill effect."
And right on cue, from behind the closed curtains: "Oh for crying out loud! You call that an injury? Daniel's hurt himself worse eating breakfast."
Frowning, the general reached for the curtain but Major Carter caught his arm. "Sir, observing the effect seems to negate it. It's a whole Schrödinger's cat sort of thing."
"Colonel O'Neill is involved with quantum physics?"
"Not exactly, sir."
Before she could elaborate, a grinning airman emerged from behind the curtain a bandage in his right hand, the first finger of his left hand extended into the air. General Hammond watched bemused as Dr. Fraser took down the particulars of a bleeding hangnail that no longer seemed to exist while the line moved forward and a Marine sergeant joined Colonel O'Neill.
"And the amount of effect required?"
The airman shrugged, his ears reddening. "Dry kiss on the injury."
"WHAT?!"
The airman jumped, blush deepening.
"It's like this, sir," Dr. Fraser began hurriedly as Major Carter dismissed the now crimson airman, "we -- Sam and I -- began noticing that no matter how badly injured Daniel was, no matter what the condition he was in when he left the infirmary, after one night in Jack's - Colonel O'Neill's - care, he was miraculously healed. Internal injuries, concussion, broken bones; it didn't seem to matter. So we understandably wondered why."
"And you asked?"
"Yes, sir. But they wouldn't tell so on PX7 YY4, Sam accidentally dropped a rock on Daniel's knee."
"Well, I was aiming for his knee but it landed a little higher up," Major Carter elaborated before the general could comment on her injuring a teammate. "And then that night, in the shadow play on the tent wall, I saw Colonel O'Neill... uh..."
"Kissing it better." Dr. Fraser took up the tale again. "In the morning, there was no trace of the injury."
"Do I want to know how Major Carter 'observed' that?"
"No, sir. Anyway, presented with the evidence, both Jack and Daniel allowed that a little TLC from Jack seemed to heal all wounds."
The colonel's latest patient emerged from behind the curtain looking flushed and happy. "I may never need a Midol again," she purred, saw General Hammond, and paled.
He waved a weary hand. "Carry on Sergeant."
"We named it the O'Neill effect," the major went on as Dr. Fraser took down the Marine's particulars, "and we managed to convince Daniel that it should be tested."
The general snorted. "I can understand how you could convince Dr. Jackson - greater good of humanity and all - but how did he convince the colonel?"
"You'd probably better not ask, sir."
On reflection, he decided he didn't really want to know. "And so far the tests are positive?"
Dr. Fraser consulted her clipboard. "So far, he's twelve for twelve, sir. It appears that the severity of the injury determines the effort he has to put into it but I'd have to say the recoveries are almost miraculous."
Right. Saint Jack O'Neill. Somehow, the general just couldn't see it. As one of Sergeant Siler's tech crew appeared with the third blush of the morning, he raised a hand to hold the line where it was. "I'll go next."
"You, sir?"
"Me, Doctor."
Dr. Fraser nodded sympathetically. "Is it...?"
"It is."
"What is it?" Sam whispered as the general disappeared behind the curtain.
Janet made a note on her clipboard. "Hemorrhoids."
--end--