Jack reels away from the fridge, hand covering his nose, mouth, and gag reflex. He forces the door shut, backing away quickly, preparing to evacuate the house and call the SGC to make sure Carter wasn't performing some experiments in his fridge.
"What in the hell?" Daniel stops in the doorway, mimicking Jack's hand-over-mouth look.
"Possibly eggs," Jack says, "and milk. Rotten something-that-might-have-been-produce and uh . . . fruit cake?"
"Who eats fruit cake?"
"If it's not fruit cake, I don't want to know what it is."
"Ugh." Daniel abandons the kitchen, Jack on his heels. They both gasp: clean, fresh, not-rank air fills their lungs.
"How long were we off-world?"
Daniel squints, dropping in a chair. "Two weeks? No. . . . Yes. Two weeks on P3X-299, a night here, and then back out to '684 for uh, eight days? Did you come home in between?"
"If I did, I didn't open the fridge." Jack scratches his head. "Wait, '299 was the planet with the miniskirts, right?"
Daniel nods, a smile growing on his face.
"Right." Jack leans back, the same smile appearing on his face. "Straight to the shower after that one."
"Then the bedroom," Daniel finishes the memory. His eyes shine behind his glasses.
"Want a repeat?"
Daniel licks his lips, breathless. "You still got the miniskirt?"
Jack's already heading to the bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head. "Best item smuggled from off-world."
Daniel snorts. "You didn't see what I snagged from '684. That 'massager'?"
Jack turns, dropping his shirt to the floor, his slack mouth slowly curling into a wicked smile. "Not a massager?"
Daniel slinks past him, a sway to his hips. "Not exactly."
Jack stretches his neck, firmly shoving the evolving life forms in his fridge to the back of this mind—at the moment he has his own experiments to perform.