Let Sleeping Anthropologists Lie
"Oh man," Blair raised his hand to his head as the room blurred and swayed lazily. He squinted at his companion, seeing only a fuzzy figure with dark blond hair and glasses. "I don't feel so good."
"That smell..." The figure leaned back against the wall, his eyes closing.
"Ether... Oh man." Blair felt his knees give way, and he slid down the wall, his legs crossed awkwardly like limp strings of spaghetti. "I don't believe this." Pain blossomed slowly in his skull. "Jim isn't gonna believe this."
"There must be a leak."
Blair chuckled. "Of course, there's a leak, Dr. Jackson. We can't just be
trapped in an ether factory. No, there has to be a leak, too."
"You know, you can call me Daniel." He groaned softly, then asked. "Who's Jim?"
"Friend. Cop. Left with your friend."
"Ah. That's right. For.. Forgot. Explains a lot." His words came out
sluggishly. "Was wondering how an anthropology conference could turn into a near-riot and end up with me stuck here in an ether factory. How'd we end up here, anyway?"
"Don't remember." Blair's brow furrowed. "Was at conference... Those weird people... Chase... The rest is kind of fuzzy."
"It's like we're prisoners in a bad plot."
"Yeah, tell me about it. I mean, really.. an ether factory?" Blair chuckled, but groaned when the pounding in his head flared. "So who WAS that Colonel guy hanging around at the beginning?"
"Uh-huh. So I have a cop friend and you have a colonel friend?"
"And they both carry guns?"
Blair smiled drowsily. "Then how come we're the... the ones chasin' down susp... ects...?"
"You mean, chasing and losing..."
"Where'd they disappear to, anyway?"
"Uh... Don't know... Any... way... Coincidence, huh?"
"Whu? Jim and Jack?"
"Yeah... not even same branch but figures Jack finds someone he knows and takes off."
"Hey, they invited us."
Daniel gave into a sharp snort. "Wasn't gonna miss the Yanomamo debate."
"Read your stuff... You really think the pyramids were built by aliens?" He tried not to chuckle, but it came out all on its own. Man, he was totally wasted. And nauseous. And really, really drowsy. His head felt stuffed with cotton.
"Maybe.... What about you?"
"Me? No, not aliens..."
"No... I mean... What do you study?"
"Oh, Sen... uh... stuff."
"I'm really tired. Can we continue this conver... conservation later?"
"Uh-huh. Good idea."
"Come on, Chief." Jim gently slapped Blair's cheek. "Wake up, buddy." His voice was muffled by the mask over his nose and mouth, but until all theether was cleared out, he'd have to wear it or risk ending up like the two anthropologists.
Jim heard O'Neill's voice behind him as the Colonel attempted to rouse Dr. Jackson.
"Daniel? Come on, Daniel..."
Blair groaned, and his eyelids fluttered open. He blinked a few times,
squinting up at Jim, then groaned, leaned to the side, and threw up.
Jim grimaced, holding Blair's arm to keep him from toppling face-first into the new mess. "I, uh, see you had some of that spinach dip at the
Blair groaned again, tilted his head against the wall, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "J-Jim?"
"Uh-huh." Jim took his mask off and held it over Blair's face. He only had on a small oxygen tank, so he had to get in and out fast. "Take a few deep breaths." He kept his own breathing shallow, but his nose told him the fumes were already dissipating.
"Daniel? Come on, Daniel...." Jack gave his friend's shoulder a firm shake, then adjusted his mask as it slipped a notch lower on his face. "Wake up."
A soft moan came from the still figure, and Jack gave another quick shake. "Danny... Come on, open your eyes."
Daniel's brow furrowed, and his eyelids cracked open. He peered up at Jack, his face going suddenly pale.
"Oh no." Jack leaned back. "Tell me you didn't have that spinach dip?" He'd heard the rather disgusting sounds coming from Sandburg, and really didn't want to be treated to his own technicolor replay with Daniel.
"Huh?" Daniel blinked up at him. "No... Don't feel so good, though."
"Yeah, I know... Here." He took off his mask and situated it over Daniel's nose and mouth. "Just breathe. The ambulance is on its way."
Daniel nodded gratefully and took several deep, greedy breaths. Slowly, the color returned to his cheeks, and his eyes grew more alert. He glanced at Jim and Blair, then turned anxious eyes to Jack.
"They came to the conference," Daniel whispered so low that he could barely hear himself. "Goa'uld, Jack. Didn't know until... " He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, giving into another moan. "Oh, I really don't feel well."
"Goa'uld?" Jim asked.
Jack stiffened. How on earth had the Detective heard that? "Uh.. yeah. A, uh, gang." Uh-huh. Good cover, O'Neill. He tried not to visibly wince.
"Never heard of them." The response was flat, skeptical.
"Let's just get these two sleeping beauties out front for when the EMT's get here and discuss this later, okay?"
"I'm down with that." Blair agreed, his voice weak and muffled by the mask.
"Good." Jack leaned forward again and pulled Daniel over his shoulder,
giving a soft "sorry" at the resulting moan from his young friend.
Quickly, Jim did the same thing with Blair. "Just don't throw up again until I put you down. Okay?"
"Can't make any promises," Blair moaned.
"Great." Jim looked heavenward, caught O'Neill's smirk, and threw a glare at the older man as he led the way out of the factory.
"I don't understand it," Jim said, half-supporting a barely conscious
anthropologist as he kicked the loft door open. "The doc said the effects of the ether were relatively short-acting."
Jack grunted beneath his own burden, careening through the doorway after Jim with a barely vertical Daniel Jackson and aiming straight for the couch. "So I heard..." He panted as he effected a controlled crash onto the cushions, landing on top of Daniel. "You know, I think he's gained some muscle mass." With a tired sigh, he pushed himself off the now-sleeping figure and moved to Daniel's feet, taking off his sneakers and setting them on the floor, then bringing Daniel's legs onto the couch and covering him with the afghan hanging on the back of the sofa.
Jim deposited his package in to the armchair, easing the young man's head back. Glancing at the couch and seeing that the afghan was taken, Jim slipped out of his jacket and draped it over his partner. "I wonder how long they'll sleep."
Jack shrugged. "The longer the better. As soon as they wake up, they'll start talking... Did you hear them going off at the conference? Who are the Yannimas, anyway?"
"Yanomamo," Jim corrected.
"Right. You got any beer?"
Jim gestured to the fridge. "Help yourself."
Jim hovered over a Blair a moment longer, listening to the kid's breathing and respiration. Both sounded slow and steady, but he was still concerned that the two men were sleeping. Maybe the doctor had missed something...
"They're fiiiine," Jack whined as he grabbed a couple of bottles from the fridge. "There's only one reason they're out this long."
"Bad writing. Soon one or both will start moaning. Maybe they'll start
having nightmares. We'll both, in our rush to comfort them, trip and spill our beers on them, then we'll have to get them out of those clothes... put them to bed... and generally act like worried parents even though they're both highly educated, grown men. I swear, I never thought I'd be living in a soap opera..."