Of Lockdown and Lattes

General Jack O'Neill stared at the folder in front of him, reading the exact same sentence again. And again. And again. After the sixth time of reading "The events on P6R-149 were caused by…," he gave up and slammed the folder shut. It was three in the morning on the fourth day of lockdown, and Anubis still hadn't shown his sorry-ass corporeal self.

"Gah. I need cooofffffeeeee..." he muttered. All Jack's other brain functions had been shut down. The only systems left were the 'java radar' to find coffee and the ability to walk around to get the coffee.

Screw this, O'Neill thought. He grabbed his mug and began trudging down the hall, thanking the Lord that he had the break room in his block.

As he shuffled his way toward the coffee room, he drew one or two strange glances, but not too many. Most of the SGC knew of Jack's frequent caffeine urges, and seeing him trudging toward the break room hunched over a coffee cup was not an uncommon sight at all.

After the agonizing minutes it took to walk there, Jack finally arrived at the most sacred room at the Cheyenne Mountain base- the break room. Sergeant Siler was just leaving when he walked up.

"Siler," he nodded as the sergeant passed on the way out. Siler nearly ran out of the break room when he saw the general. However, O'Neill paid this no heed. All his attention was focused on the coffee machine. It seemed to be glowing, like a beacon in the night.

And the fuggin' thing was empty.

Jack groaned. Now he was going to have to wait to get his well-deserved caffeine. He began rummaging around through the closets to find the filters and the coffee beans. Nothing.

No. HELL no. Not now. Shit

"Si-LERRRRRRR!" he screamed

Hearing the infuriated scream from well down the hall, Siler bolted away from the break room as fast as he could. However, this was not fast enough to outrun O'Neill, who was a good six inches taller than him. The general quickly caught up to him and pinned him against the wall.

"Where's the coffee?" snarled Jack. "Did you have the last cup?" The sergeant stared up at Jack from behind his glasses. Fearing that he wouldn't make it through the lockdown alive if he answered that question, Siler stayed silent.

"Well?" Jack demanded fiercely. The murderous look in Jack's eyes prompted Siler to nod. "And that's all the coffee we have?" Another nod. "How? It's been four days! We went through a month's supply of coffee in four days!"

"You had seven cups yesterday, five more today, and who knows how many before that," Siler replied meekly. "It's safe to say that a month's supply of coffee with you won't last too long."

"And how many cups did you have today, sergeant?" the general said accusingly.

"Two! Two! Only two! I was just getting my third! You can have it if you want! Please don't hurt me, sir!"

Seeing how frightened poor Siler was, O'Neill let the sergeant go, saying, "Nah, you can keep it. President Hayes will probably call off the lockdown soon, anyway."

Nononononono! WTF are you doing? screamed his mind. Take it! Take it!

But it was too late. Siler was already skittering down the hall, clutching the Styrofoam cup like it was the Holy Grail. Jack watched his sanity go down the hall with it.

Daniel had better be right, he thought savagely. Anubis had better show his ass around here real soon. I'm not sure I can take one more second without coffee.

Jack hardened his resolve that if Anubis didn't show up in six hours, he would personally break the lockdown, find the archaeologist, and freakin' kill the guy. And then take all of the ground roast. Yeessss…