Little Napoleon

Author: Orrymain
Category: Pre-Slash, Drama
Pairing: Jack/Daniel ... and it's all J/D
Rating: PG-13
Season: 1 – March 21, 1997
Spoilers: None
Size: 76kb, ficlet
Written: October 24 & 27, 2020
Summary: Jack has his first encounter with the Chief Medical Officer of Cheyenne Mountain and then moves to fix a wrong.
Disclaimer: Usual disclaimers -- not mine, wish they were, especially Daniel, and Jack, too, but they aren't. A gal can dream though!
1) Silent, unspoken thoughts by various characters are indicated with ~ in front and behind them, such as ~Where am I?~
2) This fic stands alone, but it does reference my other fic(s): Architectural

Little Napoleon
by Orrymain

Jack and Daniel stepped out of Jack’s trusty Ford F-150 truck and headed for the elevators that would take them to the lower levels of Stargate Command, located inside Cheyenne Mountain which was more famously referred to as NORAD, the North American Aerospace Defense Command. After changing from their civvies into their green uniforms, the two exited the locker room.

“Anything exciting planned for today?” Jack inquired of his teammate.

“I don’t know yet. I, uh, need more staff,” Daniel admitted. “I’m going to prepare another proposal for General Hammond. What about you?”

“Nah. Same ole stuff.”



“We’ve only been doing this for a couple of months now. How can any of it be, uh, same ole?”

“Because I said so?” the colonel offered with a shrug.

“Oh, I see,” the younger man responded as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tonight,” he added as the elevator doors opened.

“Maybe lunch,” Jack put forth just before the doors closed and he went in another direction to begin his day.


General George S. Hammond was in his office, having another go-around on the phone with a member of the Joint Chiefs, one who had very strong opinions on how Daniel Jackson was being used in the Stargate Program. The debate over Daniel being allowed to go off-world on missions was ongoing, though Hammond kept most of the strife to himself.

A few feet away, the second-in-command of Cheyenne Mountain waited for the call to end. He was only half paying attention to Hammond’s words, having complete faith in Hammond to protect the archaeologist. Hearing another noise, he looked at the outer office where Sergeant Davis was standing opposite a strong-sounding and imposing woman.

~Imposing?~ the colonel questioned of his observation. ~She’s a mini.~

Just then, the woman let out one final line, her words indistinguishable inside of Hammond’s office, turned, and stormed off.

~Wonder who she is.~

“Okay, Jack. Take a seat and let’s get down to business,” Hammond ordered just after hanging up the phone.

“Yes, Sir,” came the swift acknowledgment as the colonel walked to his seat and awaited whatever subject was on the general’s mind.


Later that morning, Colonel Jack O’Neill strode casually down the long corridor of Cheyenne Mountain. After his too-long meeting with Hammond and a subsequent meeting with SG team leaders, his mind was now focused on something more to his liking: a joke he’d read in the latest issue of Reader’s Digest which he found to be quite amusing. He was pondering adapting the joke to something less Reader’s Digest-like and telling it to his pal, Lou Ferretti, who was the leader of SG-2. As his humorous thoughts fused in his brain, he entered the infirmary where he’d been ordered to undergo an exam.

“It’s an order, Colonel,” General Hammond had told him during their meeting. “I sent you a memo about this last week.”

“Memo?” Jack had questioned innocently. “I don’t think I got that, Sir.”

“Check your inbox, Colonel.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jack had replied, fully understanding the order, but already thinking of other things he could do besides reading through a stack of paperwork. ~We’ve only been in operation for two months. No wonder government is a mess; too much paper and not enough action.~

The brown-haired leader looked around the infirmary and spied only one person, a female foreign to him at this second.

~Slim pickins’.~ Walking a few steps forward, Jack called out, “Where’s Warner?” in reference to Doctor Skeet Warner who was, to his knowledge, the lead physician on the base.

“*Doctor* Warner is off today,” the woman answered as she turned around.

~It’s her! The mini who was yelling at Davis.~

“What can I do for you, Colonel?” asked the woman, having seen the wings on his uniform.

“I’ll wait for Warner.”

The woman smiled, but it wasn’t a reflection of affection or goodness, but of knowledge.

“You must be Colonel O’Neill: SG-1.”

“And you are?” Jack probed, his tone one of interrogation versus cordiality.

“Frasier, Janet, Captain, US Air Force,” the petite physician answered. “Now undress.”

“Whoa!” Jack responded, both hands up as he quickly stepped backwards twice. “I’ll wait for Warner.”

“Colonel, drop ‘em. *Now*.”

“Lady, you …”

“That’s *Doctor* or *Captain*, Colonel,” came the harsh and forceful declaration.

“Yeah, okay, you’re right on that,” Jack acquiesced readily, realizing he’d made a bad move with his verbal choice. “But I’ll still wait for Warner.”

“Are you going to force me to call General Hammond? He’s the one who ordered a complete medical exam for all off-world SG teams and on-base military personnel. I’m on a schedule, Colonel. I don’t have time to argue with you,” the doctor insisted as she headed for a phone.

“Geez, you sound like a dictator, not Warner’s assistant.” Jack growled internally, ~A real Napoleon.~ He took another look at the redheaded female who he estimated to stand at roughly five-feet, two-inches tall and mused, ~A *mini* dictator. A … little Napoleon.~

“Assistant?” was the incredulous reply, the woman’s taut face, piercing eyes, and otherwise stern expression devoid of any friendliness at the moment. “Colonel, *I* am the Chief Medical Officer of this base. Doctor Warner is part of my staff.”

“Since when?”

“Officially, on Monday, but I came in early to get my bearings and check in with General Hammond. When he told me he wanted the exams done ASAP, I went to work. Now, Colonel, undress so we may begin.”

“Hammond didn’t say anything to me.”

“He told me he sent a memo to you about it earlier this week, along with an updated roster of personnel.”


For the first time, Janet Frasier laughed, her chuckle light and friendly. It was the colonel’s innocent and casual response to the idea of a memo that tickled her. In that instant, he looked like a little boy who’d been caught telling a lie. She didn’t want to laugh, but she simply couldn’t help herself.

“Laughing at me, Doc?”

“General Hammond told me there was a chance you would be unaware of my arrival.”

“He said that?”

“Yes. He said you have an aversion to paperwork and memos, something he apparently became aware of after your first mission. He mentioned he was still waiting for one of your reports.”

“Paperwork,” Jack bemoaned. “Okay, Doc, you win,” the colonel capitulated as he began to unbutton his shirt.

“I’m following my orders and doing my job,” Janet replied as she turned back to retrieve some of her needed equipment.

“What’s that for?”

With a more evilesque grin, the CMO answered, “It’s a needle, Colonel. I have a lot of them, some much bigger than this one. I love my needles, Colonel. I suggest you remember that and that I’m not afraid to use them.”

“Of course, you’re not.”

The exam was completed and Jack departed the infirmary. Before his mind returned to the revised joke he’d pondered earlier, he took a look back and saw Janet Frasier crossing the room.

~She’s one tough cookie,~ Jack told himself, but not meanly or negatively. He bobbed his head slightly and smiled. ~Little Napoleon needs watching, but she just may make it. Maybe.~


Jack decided he should go to his office and make sure there were not any other bold surprises like the one he’d just experienced. Truth be told, he didn’t really want an office, but military protocol dictated it. Also, he was second-in-command to Hammond and needed a place to keep confidential paperwork, even if he personally had little interest in that part of the job.

In his office, the colonel groaned at the already steeping pile of papers in his inbox. He couldn’t even remember when he last explored the inbox, something that made him chuckle and then pull back into a frown. If the inbox was this stuffed after only weeks of operation, how would it be after months or, worse, years?

Taking a deep breath, Jack delved into the stack, disposing of each paper as soon as he physically could. He was leaning back in his chair, his feet resting on the desktop, when he suddenly dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward. Two-thirds into the mess of paperwork, he discovered a new assignment of space allocation within the Stargate Program’s portion of Cheyenne Mountain.

“I don’t think so,” Jack responded aloud. He made sure he was reading correctly and double-checked the names of those who received the memo. He smiled slightly. ~Okay, just me.~ His smile faded as he finished reading the orders that came from Hammond. ~He can’t mean this.~ A second later, he sighed. ~Yeah, just me because I’m supposed to carry it out.~

In a huff, Jack rose and walked purposely through the gray tones of the Mountain’s interior towards the major general’s office.


“General,” Jack barked as he entered unannounced, with Sergeant Davis right behind him, looking forlorn and helpless.

“General, he didn’t even talk to me first,” Davis lamented about Jack’s entrance into the office.

“Dismissed,” Hammond told the sergeant, sensing Jack’s mood was one that would not be stopped. “What is now, Colonel?”

Flopping the papers in his hand, Jack responded curtly, “This, Sir. Who’s behind this ridiculousness?”

“Be more specific, Colonel,” the displeased base commander requested, not desiring to look through the papers being held out in the team leader’s hand.

“These reassignments of offices,” Jack said. “Why?”

“Efficiency,” Hammond answered. “Colonel Samuels is behind it.”

“Sir, with all due respect …”

“Jack, calm down. I’m not sure what has you so upset about this, but …”

“General, moving the cafeteria up two floors isn’t efficient. It’s going to cost more money than …”

“Colonel …”

Jack continued, “And it’s irritating, Sir. It makes getting that cup of coffee more time consuming. And …”

“Jack, take care of it.”

“Take care of it?” the colonel asked cautiously.

“Colonel, in two minutes, I have another call with the President defending my decision to let Doctor Jackson go on missions. After that, there’s a conference call with the Joint Chiefs, all of them. Jack, some of them want to shut us down due to cost, one of them thinks it’s all a lie, a big conspiracy, and others want to take over this project on their own. Now, I appreciate your upset, but my upset takes priority. Handle it,” Hammond ordered with a glance at the papers. “You’ve got the rank. Use it, which means take care of your inbox, Colonel. That memo is two weeks old.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jack acknowledged with a gulp. ~I’ll do just that.~

Relieved, Jack returned to his office where he searched for something on which to write new orders for distribution. Frustrated, he was about to call the sergeant when he suddenly had what he believed was a brilliant idea.

“Samuels, I’m giving this all the attention it deserves. With the power given to me by my wings, I commend your orders to the appropriate bin.”

With a smirk of ‘gotcha’ on his face, Jack crumpled up the papers and threw them into his garbage can that was by the door.

“Two points,” the colonel spoke buoyantly for his throw across the room. ~Time to collect Daniel and go home.~ He shook his head as he stood and glanced at the papers in the trash. ~You’ll regret that attempt, Samuels. Changing Daniel’s office to a room on 23 because that’s where most artifacts and relics are to be stored is so never going to happen. You’re not going to isolate him like that, but, hey, I’ll save your butt this time. Daniel has a lot on his mind. He doesn’t need to ever know about this.~

Leaving his office, Jack’s mind returned to the joke he was working on for Ferretti.

~Maybe I’ll tell it to Daniel. He might like it, and he needs to laugh more. I still can’t figure him out. He’s too guarded. Yeah, a few changes. He’ll laugh. I’ll make sure of that.~

The work day concluded, Jack headed for Daniel’s office/lab, a nice corner office on Level 18 that the archaeologist really liked. It would stay his office forever, Jack determined, and one of these days, Daniel would laugh, and laugh often, in it, with Jack alongside him.

“Hey, Danny. Ready to go?”

“Daniel,” the archaeologist replied by rote.

~Not after I get you laughing,~ Jack claimed inwardly.

“I’m ready. Pizza?” Daniel inquired about dinner.

“Nah. We’ll have burgers, cooked, but not charred,” the colonel teased in reference to an earlier story Daniel told him about his past.

“That’ll work,” Daniel said as he followed Jack out of the office and walked eagerly towards the elevators.

The days of Jack and Daniel as friends were blooming, but it was still a slow, difficult process. Neither understood why they were friends and both were hesitant to even admit it too much, but one thing was sure, Jack was protective of his team, and Daniel Jackson was the key member of that team. Today, it was Daniel’s office that was saved. Who knew what tomorrow might bring.

~~Finis - Finished - Done - The End - But is it ever Really?~~

~~Finis - Finished - Done - The End - But is it ever Really?~~

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