Dear problems page… wrote Daniel, I have a really big problem. It's called my life. Or lack of it. I never get to go anywhere because I'm always working, I never get to catch the programmes on TV because - you guessed it - I'm always working and I can't even have any pets because I'm in the office so much I'd never get to feed them or take them for walks… unless I had a goldfish and you can't really take goldfish for walks…
Daniel re-read the sheet of paper and sighed. It was not his greatest piece of writing but it would have to do as he couldn't be bothered to do any more. He was tired and needed his bed. He got up, shoved the letter into an envelope - which was already addressed as he had been thinking about his problem that much lately - and headed for the door. He had thoughts of a hot shower, a warm bed and some much needed sleep on his mind… until he saw the note shoved halfway under his door.
"See you at 07.00 - General Hammond pulled a last minute briefing on us. Jack."
Daniel sighed. So much for a good night's sleep.

****

He got to the base the next morning tired and feeling like he wanted to snap at anyone who crossed his path. He said good morning to anyone who he happened to pass in the corridor, picked up his papers from his office and then froze.
Where was the envelope from last night?
He looked on his desk, painfully aware that he had five minutes to get to the briefing room. There was no sigh of the envelope.
"DAMN!" Daniel shrieked. "Damn, damn and damn again!!"
"You OK in there..?" someone asked hesitantly.
"I'm fine… just… uh… fine…" said Daniel, turning to face someone he had recently got to know. It was the vending machine operative, James T Pratt.
"You don't look it. In fact, I'd say you needed a cup of the good stuff." Airman Pratt said.
"Uh… yeah…"
"Put this in your next cup of coffee… it'll make the world of difference." The airman said, handing Daniel a twist of paper, upon which were written the words "Rocket Fuel". Daniel looked up at the airman.
"A double dose of coffee and the secret ingredient in that should have you up and with it in no time…"
"Thanks." Daniel smiled. "I've got to go. There's a briefing in five minutes… uh - make that now -" Daniel legged it down the corridor towards the room his colleagues would be waiting for him in.
Airman Pratt watched him go.
He didn't have the heart to tell the hapless archaeologist that the meeting had been cancelled at the last minute owing to the room needing to be fumigated. Apparently, Colonel O'Neill had been teaching Teal'c all about curries. Specifically, that meant hot curries, so violent that they could throw a pErson across the room and leave them needing Janet Frasier's medical team for a week. Teal'c had walked into the room half an hour early that morning as he had nothing better to do - which was the same time that Airman Pratt had been filling the coffee machine. He had then heard an ominous sound somewhere between rumblings and ripping as a foul stench emitted from the seated Jaffa, who then proceeded to look highly amused and relieved. Airman Pratt had never smelt anything so foul - unless he counted the week he had been off sick and some idiot had left one of the fridges open. The stench of that food had been… well, nothing compared to that of a Jaffa with curry induced flatulence.
Airman Pratt had left the room and warned General Hammond, who had quarantined the room at once.
A horrible thought crossed Pratt's mind.
General Hammond had quarantined the very room Daniel was heading to and it was likely that the signs weren't up yet.
Pratt could not move fast enough.
"DANIEL!!!" he yelled, running like mad after Dr Jackson, "DANIEL!!! THERE'S SOMETHING YOU DON'T KNOW!! SOMETHING THAT COULD POSSIBLY SAVE YOUR LIFE…!!!"

****

"What's so wrong that my life is in danger?"
"Teal'c farted in that room!"
"So?" said Daniel. "I've had worse. I once had a mastage lick my face and believe me, when you've smelt the kind of breath they have, anything else is a breeze.."
Daniel opened the door and got a lungful of the foul stench. He turned green almost immediately. "On second thoughts… it smells like Teal'c really went to town… what the hell was the cause?"
"Vindaloo. Your dear Colonel friend fed him… Vindaloo…" Pratt said hesitantly.
"No kidding…" Daniel winced. "So, how come no-one put a sign up or anything?"
"Well, it's like this. Teal'c dropped one, I ran out of the room. I tried to tell General Hammond but he was too busy talking to some colonel or other… they halted just outside the door, Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter went in - and Teal'c obviously had to vent excess gas again, judging from the fact that the pair of them had to be revived. They were found under the conference table, huddled together in shock. Teal'c was just sitting there, not daring to move unless he really gassed them…" Pratt paused and examined the expression on Daniel's face. He was trying - really trying - not to laugh, but the thought of the Jaffa - and the vindaloo - and the fact that Colonel O'Neill, who had seen so much action in his life, being forced to cower under a table - was proving to be too much of a challenge.
Daniel sniggered and tried to repress it as much as he could.
"Dr Frasier had to all but revive the pair of them. General Hammond had to escort O'Neill the hell out of there and Teal'c was placed in isolation and told to stay the heck away from the Balti Express at any point in the future…" Pratt continued, "there should be some safety officers along any minute to cordon off the area until it's declared safe for human use…"
Daniel was, by this point, grinning and laughing like crazy. "I am so glad Teal'c didn't discover curries when he was first prime of Apophis! Half the galaxy would have been reaching for the air freshener…!!"

****

Airman Pratt headed for the canteen to check that all was well with is precious coffee and vending machines, the food in general and that no-one had broken the KX7000 - the latest and greatest version of coffee maker going. It was the one Daniel relied upon and often broke in the morning, and the one that Colonel O'Neill seemed to worship for its coffee making abilities. Luckily, it was in working order. Pratt checked the supply of beans, he checked the dispenser parts and the flow of water, all too essential to the making of a really good cup of coffee. He lovingly patted the machine and went to do a stock take. While he was there, he saw a few chocolate bars lying on the ground. Shrugging, he picked them up and smiled to himself.
"Mmmm… could come in handy for later on today," he mused.

****

Everything seemed to be going just fine that day - apart from the conference room incident - which was a relief for airman Pratt. He couldn't stand it when the klaxons went off, or when there was any kind of invasion. Never mind the threat to earth - more than once, the canteen had been well and truly wrecked and it had taken Pratt hours to clean the place up!!
He finished his stock take and went to take refreshments to the guys in the gate control room. Admittedly they could grab a break and go for their own coffee, but airman Pratt knew what could happen the minute their backs were turned. It only took them thinking about leaving their consoles and it was sod's law that there would be some kind of emergency preventing them from taking advantage of the wonderful coffee and tea making facilities that the SGC had to offer.
Airman Pratt reached the control room, gave the guys their refreshments and was about to leave when…
"That can't be right. I've dialled the gate but the inner wheel isn't working. I'm dialling but it isn't moving..." Sgt Davies said. "I can't make head nor tail of it."
"Let me give it a go." One of his colleagues, Sgt Hearst, said as his colleague tapped the keyboard trying to ascertain what was going on with the gate.
"It's like it's just seized up - and we're meant to be sending a diplomatic party through to maintain relations with a potentially hostile race…" Sgt Davies peered at the computer and went through some diagnostics.
Behind him, Airman Pratt shoved his hands in his pockets absent-mindedly and regarded the gate. He felt his fingers touch something in the depths of his pockets and drew out the object in question.
It turned out to be objects.
It was the chocolate he had picked up earlier on that day, still in perfect condition if a bit soft from sitting in his pocket for most of the morning. As he contemplated the chocolate, the control room guys were still arguing.
"That's the problem with this system - it's fine if you have a proper DHD but what we have here is this MacGyvered set up which does what we think the gate needs it to… but we have no real way of knowing. I've tried again and the wheel still won't budge." Sgt Hearst said.
"What about oiling it?" Sgt Davis suggested.
"We'd have a fire on our hands if the thing overloaded." Sgt Hearst replied.
"WD40?" offered Sgt Davies.
"Same difference." Hearst shrugged and went back to his computer.
"Vegetable oil then!" Sgt Davis shot back, exasperated.
"Look, we want to grease the gate, not deep fry it!" Hearst said. "Where's Sgt Siler when you need him?"
"On holiday in Liverpool, England at some event called Cult TV…"
"Cult TV? What's that all about?"
"Heaps of different TV shows - apparently there's a show that's based on the Stargate program… just to throw people off the scent of the real thing…" Davies said, going through another diagnostic program.
"Gentlemen, what is going on here?" the voice of General Hammond boomed as he entered the room.
"The gate's seized up and I can't get the inner wheel to turn for love nor money, sir!" Sgt Davies replied.
Airman Pratt, now standing at the back of the room, was in deep thought. "MacGyver…" he murmured, "Chocolate bars…"
"Where's SG1 when we need them? They're usually the ones who jump in and save the day - even when they're not supposed to be here!" Hearst said.
"Saving the day…" murmured Airman Pratt.
"Quit your bitching!" Davies said, "You're distracting me…"
"Gentlemen, please!!" Hammond said loudly. The pair of officers shut up at once and got on with figuring out the more technical elements of the gate.
Suddenly a thought hit airman Pratt.
"CHOCOLATE!" he exclaimed, making everyone in the room jump. "MacGyver saved the day with chocolate in the pilot episode of… well… MacGyver!"
"That's wonderful news, airman, but what the hell does it have to do with the gate?" General Hammond said with a less than amused tone in his voice.
"Well… it's like this…" Pratt explained, "oil and WD40 won't work on the gate - an overload would cause the inner wheel to practically barbecue itself… so we need something less volatile - like… melted down chocolate. It should have the right consistency to-"
"So help me, airman. That is one of the stupidest ideas I have heard in a long time!" General Hammond barked.
Just then, one of the communications officers piped up: "Sir, I've just had word from SG5 - they're under heavy enemy fire and request urgent assistance!"
Hammond turned to airman Pratt. "It seems that your idea may just be our best shot. Airman, see what you can do."
"I sure will, sir!" Airman Pratt snapped a salute and went to do what he could.

****

The inner wheel of the Stargate had been trying its best to move, but had only resulted in grinding left and right in a way that resulted in very little movement, but a fair bit of heat. Airman Pratt didn't mind that at all. He took the bars of chocolate and stuffed them into the inner wheel, then watched it melt down to the point where the now liquefied chocolate would free up the seized wheel.
"Damn…" said Pratt to himself. "Nothing's happening!"
He reached into one of the pockets of his overalls and bought out several bars of fine Belgian chocolate, sighing as he resigned himself to what he knew he had to do at that point. They were his favourite type - but the fate of SG5 rested firmly on his shoulders.
"Darn it… if I didn't like those SG5 guys so much, I sure as hell wouldn't be doing this!"
He unwrapped the first bar and fed it into the gate. He did the same with the second, and then the third.
"Try the gate now, Seargent!" Airman Pratt yelled.
Sgt Davies did so and was delighted to see the inner wheel move… just a little.
"Damn, this thing's got a taste for chocolate!" Airman Pratt said.

****

Daniel Jackson entered the control room and looked around in bemusement.
"We seem to have a technical problem with the gate and…" General Hammond noted the empty handed gesture airman Pratt was giving him, "…I think you'll be able to help, if you'd like to make your way down there…"
"Sure…" Daniel said, even more confused. All the same, he did as he was told.

****

It was a well known fact that Daniel Jackson survived on chocolate and coffee. Hammond had seen several bars of chocolate peeping out of Jackson's pocket and knew that it might just do the trick. To be doubly sure that airman Pratt had the resources he needed, Hammond had ordered supplies of chocolate be bought up from the canteen but they would take a few minutes to arrive. In the meantime, Hammond hoped that Daniel's supply would do the trick - provided Pratt could wrestle it off him.

****

"Hi - the General told me you needed my help -" Jackson began.
The words were barely out of his mouth when Pratt reached over and grabbed the chocolate from Daniel's pocket.
"Hey! Give that back, you thieving jerk!" Daniel exclaimed.
"I need it to release the Stargate - it's jammed and -" Airman Pratt's words were cut off when Daniel grabbed him by the shoulders.
"I might be seen as the geeky scientist around here but I can assure you I'm not as lame brained as people think I am!!"
"This is in the name of SG5's safety!"
"This is in the name of my need for chocolate!!" Daniel said.
"Let me have these bars and I'll give you a case! It's a matter of life and death!"
"Now I see why General Hammond sent me down here." Said Daniel, handing the airman his precious supply of chocolate. "He knew I'd have this stuff on me… and that I wouldn't go down here and hand it over voluntarily."
"That general Hammond knows his staff well," said airman Pratt as he shoved the bars of chocolate in the Stargate.
"That should just about do it…" airman Pratt stood up and then took several steps back.
"Try it now!" he yelled.
Davies did so and watched with anticipation as the inner wheel slowly ground its way around to the point where the first chevron locked into place. It seemed to move with greater ease on the second turn, then the third, and the fourth. By the time it had reached the seventh, it was running as smoothly as it ever had done. As the seventh chevron locked, airman Pratt could have sworn he heard the gate give a little burp but put it down to his own fanciful imagination. Pratt and Jackson stood back as SG5's back up went marching through the gate to offer assistance to their off world comrades.
The pair left the gate room and made their way down the corridor, where they came across General Hammond.
"It seems like you really did save the day with chocolate bars," the General said.
Airman Pratt snapped a salute. "The pleasure was all mine, sir!"
"I have just one question…" Hammond said, "Where did you get the inspiration from?"
"The pilot episode of MacGyver… I was watching it at a local drinking establishment I like so much… and there's a part where MacGyver seals a crack in a wall that's leaking dangerous substances… well, I figured that chocolate must have its uses and that when it's melted down…"
"It could provide exactly the kind of lubrication the gate needs." Hammond finished off.
"Exactly!" Airman Pratt beamed.
"Doctor Jackson - I'd like to apologise for being so underhanded…" General Hammond began, and was interrupted by the announcement that both SG5 and their rescue party were back with zero casualties. The General smiled to himself for just a moment and continued. "I knew you'd have what we needed…"
Daniel shrugged. "Well, it got SG5 back safely. Even though I need to go and buy some more…"
Airman Pratt took a look down the corridor and then at Daniel. "I don't think so."
"Why?"
"General, with your permission…" said Airman Pratt. "I'd like to compensate Doctor Jackson."
"I think that would be most appropriate."
Airman Pratt walked up to the member of SGC personnel who was pushing a trolley loaded up with boxes of chocolate. The airman picked a box up, smiled when he noted that it contained 250 bars and handed it to Daniel.
"Daniel… this should keep you going for a while." Airman Pratt said.
Daniel's face lit up as he read the description on the box. "Wow… it's milk chocolate with a hint of coffee - my favourite! Thanks, airman!"
"No problem. Say… do you know how the guys are getting on in the infirmary…?"
"As far as I know, they're on the mend but Sam's ready to deck Colonel O'Neill for taking Teal'c curry tasting!" Daniel said.

****

In the infirmary, Carter and O'Neill were in adjacent beds. First of all, they had had a glaring matching, then had argued about the subject of curries, then they had lapsed into silence.
Sam was the one who started the latest tirade.
"You know what Teal'c's like after something simple like beans on toast - yet you still went and took him to a place that serves curries so hot that even Sokar couldn't handle them!" she snapped.
"Yeah - well - it's an important part of Earth's culture!" O'Neill said. "He was curious! I took him to the Balti express and then we -" O'Neill began.
"Had four pints of extra strong imported beer, I heard!"
"We needed something to wash down the curry with… and curry and beer is a tradition! I just didn't realise how violent the after effects would be!"
"So what do we do now? We're down a member of SG1 for the next two weeks until Teal'c's body… stabilises itself."
"What do you mean "stabilises"? He's fine -"
"He is not! How would it look if we stepped through the gate on a planet with a delicate ecosphere, only for Teal'c to have an attack of wind… and wipe out most of the vegetation for miles around?!" Sam said, "The only saving grace we had in the conference room was that we could hide under the table…"
"Huddled up… what a nice thought…" O'Neill said dreamily.
"It wasn't bad… was it… sir?" Sam said, a smile creeping over her face.
"If I had the chance to do it again, I think I'd say yes…" O'Neill mused aloud.
"Well… considering we're all alone in the infirmary as Doctor Frasier and her team have gone off to attend to the personnel coming through the gate… what are you waiting for?" Sam said.
O'Neill slid out of bed and went padding over to Sam. It was at that moment a Southern accented voice rang out.
"Hey, Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, How are you doing?"
O'Neill stopped dead and looked at airman Pratt.
"We're just fine…" he said, his voice close to a growl.
Pratt gave a half laugh. "You want me to get the hell out of here so the pair of you can have a romantic liaison, don't you?"
O'Neill blushed. "Airman! I could have you on charges of -"
Airman Pratt shrugged. "I suppose you won't want me keeping watch at the door, then?"
"Well, if you put it that way…" O'Neill said.
"We wouldn't mind…" said Carter.
Airman Pratt winked and went to stand guard at the door. As he stood there, observing the corridor, a thought popped into his mind.
"Damn," he said to himself, "The colonel sure does remind me of that MacGyver person…"

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