Author: Vicky



Category: fluff

Summary: (John has chickenpox)

Season/Sequel: season 3


Rating: G

Archives: my website, others ask please, I never refuse

Disclaimer: I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money; I just do it for fun.

Author's Note: Written for Dana as a thank you fic. She gave me a prompt, a pairing and I had to write it.

You have a go !

John was lying down on the bed, looking towards the ceiling. He had already counted the tiles twice, did all kind of strange calculations with them in his head, and he was still bored.

He hated being there.

He had absolutely nothing to do while in there. No games, no book, no one to talk to, not even a report to write. He was at the point where he just wanted to get out. But he couldn't yet. He was stuck there.

All because he had woken up with a fever and some difficulty breathing. He was sure it was nothing but Carson had insisted on putting him there just in case. John was starting to suspect the good doctor just wanted to bore him to death; and he was managing pretty successfully.

He sat up in the bed as he heard footsteps coming towards the room. The door opened, and he was surprised to see Elizabeth enter, smiling at him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, as she leant to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Hey! I thought I might be contagious or something. Wait. Do you have whatever I have?" he asked, slightly worried that that might be the case.

"No, I'm fine," she reassured him as she sat on the chair next to his bed.

"Oh! Does that mean I can get out of here?" he said, already swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and starting to get up.

"I'm afraid not," Elizabeth said, gesturing for him to get back in bed. "You are contagious, but not for me. So, I thought I could keep you company while you're here."

"What do you mean by 'not for you'?" he asked, not minding at all that they were going to spend even more time together if he was stuck there.

"You have chickenpox, John. And since I had it…"

"What?" he interrupted her.

"You have chickenpox," she repeated.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I heard that. But how did I…? Oh…," he breathed as realisation sunk in.

"Actually, I was going to ask you on Carson's behalf so if you have an answer…"

"I went to Denver to see my cousin when we were on Earth last week-end for General O'Neill's retirement party, and his son had chickenpox. But I thought I already had it when I was a kid."

"Well, it seems not," she replied, with a smile.

"It's not funny!"

"I'm not laughing, John! I'm just smiling. But I have to admit that the idea of seeing you with poxes all over your body is quite funny," she added, failing at holding a chuckle.

"Ha ha. I'm not sure you would see them 'all over my body'," he quoted her, "if you continue laughing at me if you know what I mean. Speaking of those, why don't I have poxes yet?"

"They'll come, don't worry," Carson said as he entered the room, and both John and Elizabeth hoped that he hadn't heard what John just said. "So I take it you know how you contracted it?"

"Yeah, my cousin's son. He had it when I went to visit them. But like I told Elizabeth, I thought I already had it."

"It's not on your medical file and since you have it, I'd say it's a pretty good guess to say that you hadn't had it as a child."

"So, how long do I have to stay here?"

"Ten days at least, I'm afraid. Chickenpox during adulthood is a wee bit more serious than during childhood. This is why you have troubles breathing too. I'd like to keep an eye on you so you're staying here. Only people who already had chickenpox will be admitted in the room. If you need anything, ask the nurses, Elizabeth or even me."

"Ok. Can I have my earpiece back? You know, if I need something, it'd be easier," he explained, and Carson took it out of one of his pocket and handed it to him. "Oh and a book too, and my computer with some games too."

"I take it all of it should be in your room," Elizabeth asked and he nodded. "I'll go fetch them for you."

She left the room, Carson hot on her heels.

"You do know he's going be fiendish, lass?"

"I can handle him, Carson, don't worry. I…," she stopped and held out a hand to him, bringing the other one to her earpiece. "Yes, John. Yes, John. I know!" she said, more forcefully than she had first intended, but thinking that he might deserve it; she swore she was secretly dating a five year old. She sighed and turned back towards her friend. "It's going to be the ten longest days I've ever known."

"I know, love, I know," Carson sympathized with her, putting an arm around her shoulders to show his support.