FLY ON THE SPOT
tigermoth 26 nvc425@hotmail.com
Rated: PG
Category: D/JF R , Angst, Blink and you'll miss it Humour. SG-1 Bashing
Spoiler/Series: Sequel to "Dog in the Corner"
Disclaimer: Characters and settings from 'Stargate SG-1' do not belong to me. This story is written purely for fan's enjoyment, no profit of any sort is being made from this material. Please refrain from suing my ass.
Author notes: Let me know what you think ok. Constructive criticism is good, flames keep my ass warm on winter nights.

With many smiley faces and happy thanks to Bryn for checking over this before I sent it out. ;) Thanks chicky!!

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FLY ON THE SPOT
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I take a check on my bearings as I bank left over the runway on my downwind leg. I lose altitude quickly as I complete my preliminary landing checks before turning onto base.



Tower does not reply. I groan inwardly, damnit, do those fools at the tower ever listen to the radios?



There is a crackle of static and finally Tower comes through.



It's about time! I mutter, and bank sharply onto the final leg. I go through the landing checks one last time. Airspeed, fifty knots. Trim, checked. Airbrakes and flaps, checked. Undercarriage, down and locked as placarded. Reaching overshoot in two seconds. Two...one...touchdown. I lift up my nose ever so slightly, just in time to prevent it from ploughing into the ground. I power down and taxi onto the holding apron to rest my wings.

The peace and quiet does not last for long, however. A piercing siren shatters the relative silence of the Wallport. Sensing danger, I taxi myself upward to the safety of the Ceilingport, where I can remain untouched by the dramas of everyday life.
A giant voice booms across the airwaves. Effortlessly drowning out the wailing sirens as if they were no more than kittens hidden deep within a cardboard box.

"Medical to the Embarkation Room. I repeat. Medical to the Embarkation Room. This is not a drill."

The announcement triggers a flurry of activity from below. I watch them with morbid interest from my ceiling sanctuary.
"Okay people, I want four gurneys and a crash cart to come with me, the rest of you, scrub down and get ready for the casualties." A diminutive woman in a snow-white lab coat shouts orders to the army of nurses around her. They bustle around the room in a manner of ordered chaos. Like magic, the gurneys and crash cart materialise by her side. She grabs a hold of the closest one and starts out of the room at a brisk pace, with the other nurses following quickly in her wake.

Down below, the remaining staff prepare the infirmary for the oncoming medical emergency. Bags of blood are stacked in lots of four in dedicated areas. Monitors are wheeled in and given electricity. Mobile trays of hard, grey steel are wheeled into place, their cold surfaces hold several tools of the trade. Scissors, forceps, scalpels, water, swabs and more.

No sooner than everything is in place, The Lady in the Lab Coat and her entourage of nurses wheel four battered bodies in on the gurneys. Lab Coat lady straddles one of the prone bodies, she pushes down on his sternum in a well-calculated manner and then takes hold of his head. She holds his nostrils shut with the thumb and forefinger of her right hand and opens his mouth with the other. She seals her lips over his open mouth and delivers life-giving breath to his lungs.

The man is bleeding heavily from many places and his green uniform is shredded to threads. The other three casualties look much the same, although they, unlike him, are able to breathe for themselves. Whatever it was that these guys got into this time, it looks like they almost did not get out.

I watch the Lab Coat lady climb down from the gurney and onto the floor. A nurse takes a knife and slits the remnants of the man's tattered clothing through the middle, pushing the scraps to the side. Lab Coat lady attaches several nodes to the man's chest and then looks at the lines produced on the monitor screen. She does not look terribly optimistic about what she sees. "Lets start on 110V." She says, grabbing the electronic paddles as the machine powers up.

"Ready" Says a nurse, looking up at the Lab Coat lady.

"Clear!" Declares the Lab Coat lady, and then presses the paddles down upon the man's chest. His back arches up in response to the current, but the monitor shows no change. The nurses exchange worried looks with Lab Coat, who watches the screen for a sign. "No response," she says, "Charge 200." The nurse nods. "Clear." Lab Coat lady presses the paddles down again and lifts them off. She watches the screen with a look of barely restrained terror in her eyes. No, this can't be happening, her expression says. She turns back to the nurse. "One more time, 250, let's go." She waits a beat for the paddles to charge. "Come on Daniel," she growls, "Don't be a mule." The nurse nods, indicating that the paddles are ready. "Hands clear!" Lab Coat says, and brings the paddles down with a look of dogged determination.

All eyes turn to the monitor as it flatlines, and then blips. The little green heart in the corner flashes in time to the beat. Lab Coat places the paddles back on the cart and rolls the gurney over to one of the bays by the wall. There are sighs of relief from the staff. "Okay," says LabCoat, "Lets get him intubated and stabilised. Tell Nurse Kidby that I want reports on his condition every thirty minutes. I want a team working on Doctor Jackson's injuries until I come back. If he begins to fade on us I want to know immediately. Got it?"

The nurses murmur their assent and begin their work. Lab Coat lady moves on to the next gurney where a tall blonde woman lies, breathing steadily with the aid of a respirator. Another lab coat person is working on the blonde. "She's stabilised and doing fine." He says, "Major bruising to the arm and upper torso and shrapnel wounds to the legs. I'm suturing the big ones right now. Oh, and she was hit on the head pretty bad. Concussion."

Lab Coat lady nods and moves on, flipping through the clipboard at the foot of the bed before checking on the next fresh casualty. This one is a man, greyed, tall, and also sleeping. He breathes without the aid of a machine, but an intra-venous drip in the back of his hand delivers a steady dose of soothing drugs to his bruised and battered body. Lab Coat lady feels his forehead with the back of her hand. "What on Earth did you walk into this time Colonel?" She murmurs, before going to the foot of the bed to read through the charts. She shakes her head in disbelief and continues to the final patient.
He is a dark-skinned man. Well built, with broad shoulders. A gold symbol on his forehead catches the fluorescent lights of the infirmary and dully reflects it upon the walls. Lab Coat lady checks his pulse with her delicate hands. After timing the seconds on her watch, she releases his wrist and steps back, obviously satisfied that her patient is stable.

I taxi back to the Wallport to get more involved in the action. The Lab Coat lady interests me, she appears to have a lot on her mind. She looks over each of her patients with practiced care. I can see in her eyes that she values life above all other things. Not just her life, but the lives of everyone. That respect is the most likely reason why she is a Lab Coat lady, along with all the other lab coat people in this room.

The nurse who was manning the crash cart earlier on, now hurries over to LabCoat. The nurse's blue scrubs are streaked with blood and tendrils of her hair drift around her face from where they've escaped from their elastic. "Ma'am, Doctor Fraiser," she says in an urgent tone, "We removed a piece of metal from Doctor Jackson's thigh and his blood is everywhere. We can't get it under control. We need your help." With that she turns and hurries back to the bed of the aforementioned casualty. Lab Coat follows her, snapping on a pair of latex gloves from her pocket as she goes.

Lab Coat lady quickly takes charge of the situation. I decide against taxiing back over to the first bed and take flight instead. I land on top of the crash cart and look at what is going on. A huge, triangular piece of metal sits in a container on a tray beside the gurney. Bright, red blood pours from a gash in Doctor Jackson's thigh. Lab Coat has hooked the patient up to a bag which delivers blood to his arteries. While she does this, one nurse stabs a needle into the skin above the wound. Another nurse holds out a tray of instruments to Lab Coat, who takes what appears to be a needle and thread and begins working on the wound with a steady hand. It takes Lab Coat several minutes before she has the flow of blood down to a small trickle. She takes a wad of disinfectant-soaked cotton and places it over the stitches. This dressing is followed by a stack of bandages, which she tapes down gently onto his skin. The tray nurse then gives LabCoat a roll of white gauze, which she begins rolling around Doctor Jackson's thigh. Lab Coat's brows are knitted together in concentration, making sure that the dressings are not too tight.

LabCoat clips the end of the gauze down and lets a puff of air out through pursed lips. She looks to her team of nurses and forces a smile. "Okay people, let's get him moved to a clean bed and made comfortable. Corporal Riley I want you to fetch Doctor Jackson a set of clothes, please. Alright let's go."
The nurse called Riley 'yes ma'am's' and walks away. I hitch a ride on the end of the gurney as Lab Coat and another nurse wheel it to another section of the infirmary. The gurney stops next to a bed with clean, pressed sheets and a pristine white pillow. Lab Coat slips her hands under Doctor Jackson's head and back and the nurse takes his lower body. "On my count," says LabCoat, "One...two...three."
On the third count, they lift Doctor Jackson off the gurney and onto the bed. Corporal Riley returns with a set of hospital garments for the patient. He hands the clothes over to Lab Coat. "Here you go, ma'am." He says, "Is there anything else?"

Lab Coat takes the clothes and shakes her head, "No, thank you Corporal. Could you and Kidby please take the gurney away now, I will get Doctor Jackson changed." The two nurses nod and turn, wheeling the gurney with them to some far-flung corner of the infirmary. Lab Coat remains with Doctor Jackson. She moves to the wall where a yellow curtain hangs from a railing. She takes the curtain in her hand and draws it around the bed, essentially forming a room within the room. She walks back to her patient's bedside and places the clothes down on the table beside the bed. Her hands tremble slightly as she gently removes what remains of the man's tattered clothing.

His skin is dirty in most places. The areas around the sutures, of course have been washed of dirt, but the rest of his body is streaked in brown and crusty red. His body reeks to high hell, even myself, being a fly, am repulsed by the sharp odour of dried blood and sweat on his skin. Lab Coat takes a bowl of water and sponge which had been placed on the table earlier by nurse Kidby. She dips the sponge in the water and squeezes out the excess.
She washes the blood and dirt from Doctor Jackson's face. Her expression is one of intense care for her patient. She continues cleaning him with her gentle hands. Not a word is spoken from her lips as she performs this task, but her eyes hold back tears which speak a thousand words. Once she has removed all traces of blood and grime from his skin, she clothes him in the blue cotton tunic provided by Corporal Riley.

With a tired sigh, Lab Coat replaces the water bowl and sponge back on the table and pulls up a chair, taking one of Doctor Jackson's hands in her own. She stays there, for several minutes. Simply sitting, and staring at his face. An angry purple bruise rages over his right eye. Lab coat traces the curve of his jaw with feather-light fingertips. She looks relieved to have him still alive. She drops her hand and says something under her breath. I fly over to her head to catch the words, but she swats me away.
I buzz back to the Wallport, respecting her desire to be left undisturbed.

The Lab Coat lady sits with her patient for another hour with his hand in hers. She whispers secrets to him that no one else can hear, massaging soft circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. The lighting in the infirmary has been turned down so that the patients may sleep. Lab Coat too, is lulled by the dimness and lays her head on the mattress next to Doctor Jackson and closes her eyes.

Nurse Riley slips quietly into the curtained off room and places a hand on Lab Coat's shoulder. "Ma'am," Riley whispers, so as not to startle her, "You should go to bed now, Doctor Fraiser. You've had a hard day."
Lab Coat rises her head from where it had been resting and stares at Riley dumbfoundedly for a moment. She gets up from the chair and smoothes her hands over her coat. "Yes, thankyou Corporal." She says, "I think I will." Lab Coat gives Riley a tired smile and takes one last glance at Doctor Jackson before leaving.
"Doctor Fraiser," Says Riley, placing his fingertips on her arm, "I'll wake you if there's any change okay?"
Lab Coat nods "Thankyou Corporal. That would be good. Goodnight."
"Night Ma'am."

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Morning dawns with the flicker of fluorescent lights. Deep under the mountain there are no windows to let the sun shine in. I power up for take off and zoom around the infirmary. I take a look at the casualties from yesterday, still sound asleep in their crisp white beds. The blonde woman has been taken off her respirator, and now breathes without aid. Her arms, which lie on top of the sheets, are heavily swathed in white gauze. Around her neck she sports the remnants of a failed strangulation, and she too, like Doctor Jackson, sports a bruise above her right eye. I buzz around her head momentarily, expressing my sympathy for her condition and then go to visit the grey haired man.

Grey Hair is also sound asleep. Though he has no visible bandaging, he is definitely bruised. The IV still delivers a steady dose of drugs to his system. It is probably the only thing right now that allows him to rest so peacefully. The broad-shouldered patient with the golden tattoo looks as if nothing ever happened to him. His body is in perfect condition, without even a scratch to show. I vibrate my wings in confusion and move on, writing off the miraculous healing as the quality of human tissue regeneration.

I touchdown at the Wallport at the head of Jackson's bed without even bothering to call in to Tower. It's not as if they ever listen to the calls anyway. It's amazing that there hasn't yet been an air traffic incident so far. Doctor Jackson has been hooked up and intubated with a menagerie of different machines and IV's. Corporal Riley has been checking on him all through the night and now, into the morning. He looks as if he could just drop dead where he stands. Lab Coat lady walks in to Doctor Jackson's curtained off area, fresh and ready for the new day. She relieves Riley of his duties and tells him to get a shower and some rest. She will now resume caring for her patients.

I follow Lab Coat through the infirmary as he does her morning rounds. She takes a visual assessment of every patient's wounds and takes their body temperature. She records what she sees on the front page of the clipboard at the foot of each patient's bed. The grey-haired patient has woken up. He blinks drowsily and stares at the ceiling, tapping his forefinger on the mattress beside him. Lab Coat puts her hand to his forehead and smiles at him. "Good morning O'Neill," she says lightly, "you guys sure had a rough ride this time. How are you feeling?"
O'Neill moistens his lips with his tongue and speaks, his voice is rough like sandpaper. "Like I was run over by three herds of rabid horses." He says. This comment earns him a laugh from Lab Coat as she checks over his bruises.

"Well Colonel, it certainly looks that way. What happened?"

Her patient closes his eyes and grimaces, as if trying to block visions of the events past. "Ambush." He declares. "The snakeheads were just waiting for us on the other side. We nearly didn't make it."
He blinks suddenly, as if remembering something important. "How are the rest of my team?" He questions, looking Lab Coat straight in the eye.

"Carter's fine, some lacerations to her arms and legs, bruising to the temple...she can pull through it. Teal'c is...well, Teal'c. Bruising and lacerations, but his symbiont is taking care of him. All I needed to do was check on his temperature and make him comfortable. Daniel..." She stops abruptly, seemingly choking on her own breath. O'Neill gives her a questioning look, his features growing worried in a matter of milliseconds.

"What about Daniel, Doc?" He asks, "How bad is he?"

Lab Coat breathes again, snapping out of whatever trance she was in. "He's pretty battered," and then, in a whisper, "He almost...he almost didn't make it."

O'Neill looks away from Lab Coat and then shuts his eyes. "Damn." He mutters. "Why is it always him?" He opens his eyes and regains eye contact with Lab Coat. "He's going to pull through though, isn't he?" He asks, Lab Coat nods slowly, firmly. "Of course." She replies, "He always does."

I thrum my wings together in disbelief. Lab Coat is obviously trying to convince herself that Doctor Jackson will be okay. In my humble opinion, judging by the state he was in yesterday afternoon and this morning, I know that it will be a long time before he returns to the land of the conscious again.

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On the second day after her arrival to the infirmary, the tall blonde patient wakes up. I was taking my customary afternoon circuit when her eyes opened and she started choking on the tube that delivered air to her lungs. I buzzed around her joyously, alerting the nurses to her condition. Lab Coat came running, and with some help, removed the tubing from Blond Lady's throat. Corporal Riley arrived bearing a paper cup filled with ice chips and helped Lab Coat prop the woman up into a sitting position on her bed.

"Welcome back home, Sam." Says Lab Coat, handing her patient the cup of ice chips. Sam nods in return, chewing on the ice as if it would save her life. Lab Coat steadies Sam's hand. "Hey hey hey, easy on the ice Major." She says, "We don't want you choking on us when you've just woken up!"

Sam relents and hands the cup to Corporal Riley, and then turns her head to speak to Lab Coat again.

"How long have I been out?" She questions, scrunching up her face a little as her hand passes over the bruise on her forehead. "Ouch."

"Three days, almost." Lab Coat says, "Doctor Warner spent half an hour removing shrapnel from your legs. And you got hit in the head with something nasty...hence the bruise."

"Oh." Says Sam. "How are the guys?"

"Jack's fine. Woke up yesterday morning. He'll be itching to see you the moment he hears you're awake."
Sam grins, "Don't look at me like that!" She demands, and then her grin turns serious. "How about Daniel and Teal'c? Are they alright?"

Lab Coat nods. "Yes Teal'c is doing extremely well. He's sitting with Colonel O'Neill at this very moment."

Sam smiles in relief, "But what about Daniel?"

The air of optimism around Lab Coat fades quickly and the smile disappears from her face. "He's still out." She says, fighting to keep tremors from her voice. "Lost a lot of blood. His heart stopped beating again this morning, but we got him back under control. It'll take a while."

Lab Coat looks so distressed that I worry she will start to cry. Sam grabs her hand and gives it a squeeze, giving Corporal Riley a glance that asks him to give them some privacy. The Corporal nods silently and leaves the curtained off room. I watch Lab Coat as she fights back tears, chin held high and shoulders straight. Sam reaches out with difficulty and pulls Lab Coat into a hug. "Oh Janet," she says gently, "Don't worry. Everything will be okay."

A worried sigh comes from Sam's shoulder, where Lab Coat lady has rested he head. "I really hope so." Says Lab Coat, and pulls out of the hug, quickly wiping away the tear, which has made a run for freedom down her cheek. Sam smiles in sympathy for her friend and squeezes her hand again. "Maybe he'll wake up tomorrow." She says hopefully, trying to lighten Lab Coat's blue mood.
Lab Coat gives Sam a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah. Maybe he will."

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Doctor Jackson does not awaken the following day, nor does he awaken on the next, or the next. Indeed, he lies comatose for seven days straight, and with every minute, Lab Coat becomes more and more anxious over his condition.

His friends, Sam, O'Neill and Teal'c visit him whenever they can. All three are on stand-down until he awakens and can return to active duty. When Sam comes to see him, she sits by his bed and reads him papers about quantum physics. O'Neill comes in later and shoos her away fondly, claiming that quantum physics will keep the man unconscious for longer than is necessary. O'Neill slouches far back in the plastic visitor's chair and talks to Jackson endlessly. I can see the guilt written all over his face when he sits with his friend. I buzz around him constantly to cheer him up. He threatens me with flyspray. Can't win them all I guess. Teal'c, the well-built man-mountain, visits his friend in silence. The only time he speaks is when visiting hours are over and the nurses ask him to go. "I await your return to us, Daniel Jackson." He says, and claps his hand to his heart, and then walks away.

Lab Coat lady is Doctor Jackson's most dedicated visitor. I find her sitting with him at all hours of the night and day. It seems that she is with him at every spare moment that she can find. During the daylight hours when there are witnesses, she speaks to him briefly about her daughter Cassandra and a dog whose name is Beans. She also gives him the latest news on archaeological missions and anything else that she believes may interest him before returning to the rigours of her job.

Night time, however is a completely different scene. Only under the blanket of darkened stillness does she let her tears escape. I stayed up late with her on one of those nights and listened to her quiet whispering next to Doctor Jackson's ear. She told him how much she missed his eyes and smile. She said that she couldn't wait until she could speak with him again. I got the feeling, however, that she always left one thought unspoken. I believe that she wanted him to be awake to hear what she had to tell.

Eventually Lab Coat ceased her whispering and simply watched her patient sleep. I buzzed around her head telling her that she should do the same. Her hair has become thoroughly dislodged from the barrette that holds it, she looks, and is, dead tired. Yawning, Lab Coat got up from her chair by Jackson's bedside and massaged her tired neck. She turned to go, but, as an afterthought, quickly pressed her lips to her patient's forehead and then left the room.

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The midnight ritual continued like this until he seventh day, when Doctor Jackson decided to wake up. Lab Coat must have jumped two feet into the air when he placed his hand clumsily on her cheek in greeting, while she lingered in that place between dreams and sleep. My heart was filled with joy to see the thousand-kilowatt smile, which graced her features upon his awakening. Lab Coat was beside herself with joy, and checked him over thoroughly to make sure that he really was okay. The tube down his throat had been exchanged for one in his nose the day before. Doctor Jackson smiled at Lab Coat weakly, and closed his eyes even though he had been asleep for an entire week.

In the darkness of the night-time infirmary, Lab Coat stroked her hand through Doctor Jackson's hair. He drifted in and out of sleep, his blue eyes catching hers whenever he managed to stay awake. He gazed sleepily at her through eyelids at half-mast. "Jh-net" He murmured, "Y mssd you."
Lab Coat quieted him by tracing her fingertips over his forehead and down the line of his jaw. "Shhh, Daniel," she whispered, "You pulled through. Everything is going to be alright."

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It is now three days since Daniel Jackson arose from his slumber. I zoom around the room, touching up on my aerobatics. I am halfway through a loop when I suddenly come a hair's breadth away from being swatted by Lab Coat's hand. Okay, okay, I get the message. No need to be violent! I say, touching down on the table beside Jackson's bed.

Daniel is busily playing cards with Sam. They both look up when Lab Coat approaches, and a smile comes riding across Daniel's face. "Hey Doc." He greets her, his face begins to blush. Sam rolls her eyes and laughs inwardly, she places down her cards and stands to greet her friend. "Hey Janet," she says, grinning, "I was just going to head off to my lab to do some research on the uh...Trinium alloy Zat...thingy....yeah. Talk to you later okay?"
Janet smiles and shakes her head at her friend's very obvious, very lame cover. "Sure Sam. See you round." Together they watch the blonde-haired woman go.

"So," starts Lab Coat, coming around to Daniel's bedside. "How are you today Doctor?" The infirmary is unusually empty today, there is not another soul in sight. "I feel a lot better, thanks for asking." He replies, patting the bed beside him , an invitation for her to take a seat. Janet, I will now refer to her with her true name, clambers up and scoots Daniel over, sitting back on the pillows with him on the bed.

They sit together, like that, for several minutes in companionable silence. Daniel is mesmerised by the curve of her legs that extend gracefully until they reach her low - heeled shoes. Janet catches him staring and smacks him in the chest with an amused smile. "Quit it!" She says in mock annoyance. Daniel snaps his eyes up, and looks at her, the picture of innocence. "What?"
"You were staring." She accuses, giving him a frown.

Daniel opens his mouth wide in astonishment, so wide I could fly right in and never come out again. "I was not." He declares. She glares at him, "Yes you were. Don't even bother denying it Daniel, you were that obvious. If you're going to ogle at a lady's legs the least you could do is use a little subtlety."
Daniel throws his hands up in surrender. " Okay. Alright, I was staring. You can't blame a guy for doing that...can you?" the woman beside him glares, Daniel looks worried. "Um...sorry?" No change. "Stop glaring at me like that! What do I have to do to make it better?"
Janet eases off on the glare and climbs from the bed to stand beside him. "Well...there is one thing you could do..."

"Oh? And what is that?"

"Dinner."

Daniel is taken aback. "Di...What...? Really?"

Janet panics, thinking that maybe she has been too forward. "No, no I was just joking...I..."

Daniel reaches out for her hand and holds it to his chest, my wings flutter. Awww they're so cute!... Did I just say that? Ouch, I'm getting squishy in my old age. Anyway, back to the drama.

"Were you really?" He asks, looking her in the eye. Janet tries to pull her hand away, but her will not let her go until she answers him.

I watch her eyes flicker as she considers lying and denying everything. Instead she opts for the truth. "We almost lost you this week Daniel." She pauses, looking down at their entwined hands. "I realised that...while you were sleeping, I didn't know what...I would miss you very much if you weren't around."

Daniel tilts her chin upward with his free and ducks his head to catch her eyes. "Hey, Janet, look at me." She does so, reluctantly. "I know that I would feel the same way if I lost you." She blinks with surprise. "And," he continues, "I would love to have dinner with you sometime." He smiles, "That is, if you still aren't joking..."

I power up for take off as they lean in to each other for a hug. I was expecting maybe a kiss or two, but to each their own I suppose. All good things will come in time.





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