Work Text:
Siler quietly hummed the Mission Impossible theme to himself as he slipped into the office.
It had been seventeen hours since Dr. Jackson’s coffee machine had shorted out, resulting in a small electrical fire.
Seventeen hours since the good doctor had been banned from his office, under-caffeinated and making it the entire base’s problem while maintenance repaired the damage and ensured the fire hadn’t posed any safety concerns.
Fortunately, the damage had been isolated to the coffee maker and outlet, likely due to overuse. Unfortunately, the coffee maker was toast.
Colonel O'Neill had given Siler fifty bucks and a replacement coffee maker, telling him to sneak it into the doctor’s office while he wasn’t there. He said he didn’t want Dr. Jackson asking questions about where it came from, but Siler had a sneaking suspicion there was a bet happening on whether the good doctor would even notice his new one was not standard-issue. No, this one was programable and had a bunch of features Siler had never heard of before. It also had a stainless steel carafe that wouldn't break if it were dropped (and would also make a passable weapon, in a pinch). The difference between this shiny beauty and the standard base-issue clunkers would be immediately obvious to most anyone.
But Dr. Daniel Jackson certainly wasn't 'most anyone.' It wasn't that he wasn't observant. Dr. Jackson could pick out a single pottery shard from twenty yards away, but every day things like appliances? Well, those tended to just go in his eyes and out his fingers without a thought spared.
Making the swap had been trickier than he'd expected. Getting in there without Daniel noticing had been next to impossible for one simple reason:
The man never left.
The second maintenance cleared it the archaeologist had run into his office and set up camp, determined to make up for the hours he'd been separated from his beloved books and artifacts.
He’d known better to expect Dr. Jackson to leave at the normal end of business day, so Siler had gone home, had dinner, then came back.
Except Dr. Jackson was still in his office, drinking the commissary’s special interpretation of tar and complaining aloud to his books with every sip.
Siler went to the gym and worked out for an hour and then took a long shower.
Dr. Jackson was still at it.
It was now 02:37 and a certain archaeologist was drooling on a stack of MALP photos with his glasses twisting at a dangerous angle. This was his chance, so long as he didn't wake the man.
Siler had taken everything out of the box and had it all set up and ready to plug in before he snuck in the office. The ruined one had been disposed of hours earlier, so he quickly plugged the new one in to the repaired outlet.
He was about to sneak off when Dr. Jackson let out a particularly loud snort. When it resulted in a grumble and Daniel snuggling down further into the MALP photos like he could absorb their information straight into his brain, Siler stepped back into the corner. He quietly poured a measured scoop of Daniel’s personal store of coffee grounds into the machine, filled it with water, and scheduled it to brew at 6am.
The doctor was going to have one hell of a stiff neck in the morning, but at least he’d wake up to coffee.