Title: Barista 33 -- Hangover Cures
Season: Season 4
Spoilers: 0405- Divide and Conquer
Category Humor / Angst
Rating: PG-13

Author's Notes: This takes place the day after the events in Epiphany.

It was probably a good thing I was feeling absolutely miserable the next time I saw Daniel. You know you drank too much, when 32 hours later you're still in pain. Horrible, mind numbing pain.

Actually, if my mind was really numb, I really wouldn't be in such pain now would I?

Have I mention how much I hate Bill and Jaegermeister (order not important)? Not only do I still sport a headache the size of a small moon, but my failure in the art of dating is really starting to get me down. Not to mention this niggly feeling in the back of my mind, like I've forgotten something important. I had put my funny drawing of the triangle/circle/ugly stick figure, into my wallet on the off-chance I had actually stumbled across an alternative fuel source or something. Maybe I had just misplaced the explanatory legend somewhere. I'm not normally a doodler (probably because I am such a piss-poor drawer), so I have to wonder what the hell I was thinking about when I sketched that picture.

If you can honestly call it a picture.

To add to my confusion, in my attempt to do school work yesterday (a dismal failure), I found out that I was online for three hours the night before. Three hours? What the hell was I looking at for three hours? Afraid that I had discovered some sort of previously unknown porn fetish or something, I checked both my Internet history and cookies, and (thankfully) discovered nothing unusual. Which of course begs the question; just what was I doing for three hours the night of July 21st?

I am still mulling over possible scenarios when a familiar figure walks through my doors. Although I still feel like death warmed over, I have every intention of kidding Daniel about beating up those bullies at O'Malleys a couple of weeks ago. I am dying to hear whatever lame excuse he'll try and con off on me this week. Oh don't get me wrong, I really do adore Daniel, but I know for a fact he lies through his teeth. Not on purpose mind you. Well, actually, yes- on purpose. But I'm certain, it's a really good purpose.

Reason.

Dammit! Have I mentioned that my head hurts?

I have several different "Best of Daniel Excuses" running inside said head. Heh, maybe he'll use the old, "the aliens made him do it" - definitely a crowd pleaser!

Unfortunately, all thoughts of joking die immediately as he walks towards the front counter. First off, Daniel looks good. GQ good. Most definitely not geeky or scientist-like, that's for sure. I blink a couple of times to make certain I am really seeing Dr. Daniel Jackson - Dr. Daniel Jackson in a beautifully tailored dark brown suit with a light blue-gray shirt and shiny brown tie.

My mouth suddenly goes a bit dry, but I'll blame that on dehydration.

"Hi Daniel," I say casually, as I drink in the seriously nice looking figure Daniel cut in his pretty-looking suit. So much for the beating up bullies line.

"Hi Kira," Daniel replies absently and without his usual warmth. He might look absolutely gorgeous, but there's something pretty serious going on inside Daniel's mind right now. He doesn't (thankfully) appear injured, but something is wrong. He stands in front of the espresso machine for several long seconds. I motion for one of the other Baristas to take over counter duty and concentrate on Daniel.

"Can I get you an Americano, Daniel?" I ask quietly, not wanting to disturb his obviously unsettled self any more than it already is. I really don't know what's wrong, but Daniel has come into my coffee shop; the least I can do is offer him a cup of coffee.

"Sam likes double tall mochachinos," Daniel declares suddenly, eyes not really fixed on anything but thin air. I've only served Sam a couple of times, and actually wasn't aware of that.

"Should I make Sam a mochachino?" I ask grabbing the chocolate milk pitcher. Daniel ignores me as he stares off into space.

"Daniel?" I try again.

"Oh. Sorry Kira," Daniel says apologetically as he focuses a little on me and not that dark place he just was. "What was it you asked?"

"Should I make Sam a mochachino?" I repeat. What little color that remained on Daniel's face quickly vanishes.

"No," Daniel replies instantly. He appears shocked that I would even suggest such a thing.

Suddenly, I feel all the blood leaving my face as I realize with crystal clarity what's going on. Daniel is in a suit. Daniel is clearly upset about something, and Daniel just turned the color of starched sheets at the mention of Sam's name.

No.
No, it isn't possible.
Sam Carter is not dead.
No!

"Daniel..?" I feel my lower lip start to quiver. God, please let this just be an over-reaction to lack of sleep and too much alcohol.

"Kira, what's wrong?" Daniel asks worriedly, taking a step closer and looking into my eyes. My breath catches, as I peer into his concerned face and suddenly I feel the need to be outside. Hastily I mumble something about needing a break to the lone barista on duty, and ducking under the counter, grab Daniel's hand and pull him outside with me.

"Kira?" Daniel tries again. "What's going on?"

"Why are you in a suit?" I demand urgently.

"What?" Daniel asks, clearly confused.

"Daniel," I repeat, enunciating each word, "why are you in a suit?"

"I just came from a..um.very important meeting," Daniel replies still perplexed.

"Not a funeral?" I have to be sure.

"No," Daniel says wrinkling his forehead in confusion. "What made you think I just came from a funeral?" Now I feel silly. Relieved, but silly.

"Your suit," I mumble as I feel all the blood rush back to my cheeks. At the rate my blood is moving about, I'm probably going to pass out any moment now.

Daniel is still confused (welcome to the club), but recognizes that I am obviously upset about something. He leads me to a table and makes me sit.

"Kira, what is going on?" Daniel unbuttons the top button on his jacket and sits down across from me.

"Your suit." I look at Daniel anxiously, but apparently "your suit" isn't enough to make him understand. I try again, "Sam's mochachino." Once again, I notice a look of sadness come over Daniel.

"I was right!" I cry out loud. "Sam is dead!" With that, I burst into tears.

"What are you talking about, Kira?" Daniel asks, patting his pockets in search of a handkerchief. "Sam is not dead." He hands me a wad of napkins and I wipe my eyes and noisily blow my nose.

"She's not?" I hiccup, trying to get my emotions back under control.

"No," Daniel confirms, shaking his head resolutely from side to side. "I saw Sam not more than 30 minutes ago Kira - and she was." His sentence drops off as Daniel struggles to find the right words.

"She isn't fine though, is she?" I ask knowingly. I might be a hung over, emotional basket case, but I knew something was still wrong.

"No," Daniel agrees. "She isn't fine." Seeing my face crumple once again, he quickly goes on, "But she will be Kira. Sam will be fine soon." I can see in Daniel's eyes, the he truly believes this to be the Gospel Truth. So if Daniel believes it, than it must be true, right? Suddenly, I get a random flash of that damn funny picture I made.

"What happened?" I ask, shaking my head slightly to dispel that bizarre image. Instantly Daniel gets that pained look on his face that always preludes a rather large lie. Or at least a rather large stretch on the truth.

"There was an accident on the base," Daniel begins. "Someone close to Sam was killed."

"That's horrible!" I exclaim. Daniel nods in agreement.

"It was pretty horrible Kira," Daniel repeats softly. "I might have been able to do something to prevent it, but it all happened so fast."

"Daniel, I might not have been there, but I am certain you did everything you could." Huh. How'd that happen? One minute Daniel's comforting me, and now here I am comforting him!

"Maybe," Daniel agrees. But I can tell he doesn't really believe that yet. Where's Jack when I need him?

"Can I make Sam a mochachino?" I ask at a loss for words. As if that will make her feel better.

Daniel shakes his head. "Sam's going to be out of town for a couple of days," Daniel explains. "She went to visit her dad."

"Did her dad know the person who died?" I ask quietly.

"Yes, actually," Daniel says as if he suddenly realizes this himself. "He did." I can see a little of Daniel's own guilt abate and he gives my hand a little squeeze. "I'm a little warm out here in this suit, how about if we go back inside and you make me an iced Americano?"

"Sure," I reply wiping my nose once again. I lead Daniel back into the shop and hastily run into the back room to wash my hands and face.

"Everything ok, Kree?" Jeanne calls out, as I return to the espresso machine.

"Yeah," I reply, nodding as I pull two perfect shots of espresso for Daniel. "Everything is fine." I pull the shots over a cup of ice, and then add additional ice cubs and water. "You sure you're ok, Kira?" Daniel asks as he finishes paying, and stuffs a few dollars into the tip jar.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question, Daniel?"

"Maybe," Daniel says with a shrug, "but I'm not the one suffering from a hangover from hell." Immediately I turn bright pink. How the hell did he know that? Daniel looks at my confused (and obviously embarrassed) self and chuckles.

"I'm a genius, remember?" He offers self depreciatively as an explanation. "I might have spent the majority of my college days with my nose in a book Kira, but that doesn't mean I didn't notice what went on around me." Too stunned to speak, I just nod.

"Try drinking tomato juice," Daniel suggests. "Your body is mostly likely dehydrated, but I bet you need the sodium as well."

"Thanks," I stutter looking down at the counter. How the hell did he figure it out so fast?!

"Genius, Kira." Daniel says again, chuckling to himself. Obviously, Daniel is going out of his way to try and make me feel better. Which is kinda crazy if you think about it, as it was his friend who just witnessed a death.

You're a good man Daniel Jackson.

Daniel turns around and heads for the door, but suddenly stops and shakes his head. He turns back around and walks back towards me.

"Actually, Kira," Daniel says sheepishly, "the tomato juice thing is Jack's idea."

"It is?"

"Yeah." There's more coming, I can just feel it.

"And while it is true that I didn't drink much in college.." Yes? Do go on, Daniel.

"I have, unfortunately, had more than a few drunken nights with Jack." Daniel pauses for a moment, "Because of Jack actually." I smother a giggle. I can totally see Jack getting Daniel drunk.

"Which resulted in a hangover from hell?"

"Oh yeah," Daniel agrees, wincing at the memory. "Apparently, I'm a cheap date, Kira."

This time, I'm the one laughing. Unfortunately, a woman in my delicate condition really shouldn't be doing that. Ow! I let out a small moan and grab my grab my head in hopes of keeping it in one piece.

"Tomato juice," Daniel mouths, as he pats my hand sympathetically and heads out the door. I glance over at Jeanne and raise my eyebrows in question.

"I'll be fine Kree," Jeanne says chuckling, as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a $5 dollar bill. "Go do what the cute young doctor says, and get yourself some tomato juice." Grabbing my water bottle from under the counter, I do just that.

Ramblings:

Tomato juice really does help alleviate the symptoms of a hangover. Bloody Mary's however, are even better. Thanks to Lew and Susan for beta'ing and my unlikely reviewer for the suggestion of Sam's drink preference. I know, I know- she owes *you* $10.

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Completed October 31, 2004