AUTHOR: Debi C

EMAIL: dcole6@satx.rr.com

DATE: 1 Dec 2001

STATUS: Finished

ARCHIVE: Incoming Wormhole, Heliopolis, O'Neill's House (If you want to)

CATAGORY: Challenge

SPOILERS: Any and every story written

SEASON/SEQUEL INFO: Fifth season.

RATING: PG (cause of Col. Pottymouth)

PAIRING: None

SUMMARY: Jack Whumping, Danny Whumping, Sam Whumping, Sexual situations, Elevator-shafting, book-eating, bee-stinging, bad-betting, meeting-missing and general all round mayhem.

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARY--MAY YOU ALWAYS WHOMP-EM!

It was not going to be a good day. Jack knew it when the alarm clock didn't go off. There had been a heck of a storm blow down out of the mountains that surrounded Colorado Springs last night and his power had gone out so all his electric appliances had lost their setting, hence no alarm. As he hastily grabbed a cup of yesterday's coffee from the cold Mr. Coffee and ran out the door he also realized that the VCR hadn't gone off to tape the movie he'd set it for. Rats, it was or rather had been The Alamo starring John Wayne and Richard Widmark. He'd really wanted that movie for Teal'c.

Running down the treacherous icy steps of his front landing he almost fell, twisting his bad left knee in the process. Finally he made it to his big Ford pick up. As he stepped up into the cab, some paperwork, notes for the team chief meeting, he'd left in there slipped down into an icy puddle and coagulated with the cold muddy water. He cursed to himself, grabbed it up and threw it on the passenger side floorboard of the vehicle. There was another hour wasted. He'd have to talk to Hammond about a secretary to help with the typing.

Driving to Cheyenne Mountain turned out to be an adventure in itself. Even his experience with snowy weather was put to the test as he saw pile up after pile up along the frozen, slick roads. Then he saw him standing by the side of a narrow ravine.

Daniel Jackson was watching his silver Audi being towed out of the ditch. A teenaged boy was standing there in tears exchanging insurance information with him. A black Mustang was awaiting similar attention from another wrecker that was waiting for its turn at the ravine. Jack pulled up in his truck and parked it behind the police car. Daniel waved at him as the late model convertible was lifted onto the bed of the wrecker. The tow truck driver handed him a card; Jackson picked up a cardboard box of books and walked over to his friend's Ford F250. "Hi, big boy. Give a guy a lift?"

"Yasureyabettcha. You all right?" Jack asked his friend.

"Yes, the kid lost control of his car and plowed into me." Daniel shoved the box of books in the seat between them and climbed in. "I'm okay, but my car has got about three thousand dollars worth of damage."

O'Neill watched the wrecker leave in his rear view mirror. "Oh yea, at least. Get in before your toes freeze off."

"Aren't you a little behind schedule?" Daniel asked as he pulled the seat belt on and snapped it shut.

"My power went out and my alarm clock didn't go off." Jack replied as he carefully made his way back into traffic.

"Ours did too. You really ought to get a clock with a battery back up."

"I have one, I guess my battery back up needs battery back up." He replied forlornly. "And my VCR went out too."

"Well, John Wayne still gets killed at the end."

O'Neill looked at his friend in mock dismay. "No, say it ain't so Joe."

Daniel nodded heartlessly and looked lustfully at Jack's coffee cup. "Can I have some of your coffee? Mine er, spilled."

"Sure, go ahead." He groused. "I'm not sure the world is ready for a Daniel Jackson without caffeine."

After a long hazardous drive up to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex's parking lot the two friends trudged through the checkpoints. Jack was carrying his soggy (and cold) paperwork and Daniel was lugging his cardboard box full of books. When they finally got into the elevator O'Neill hit the button for the twenty- eighth floor and peered into the box and asked Daniel the burning question. "What is all that stuff?"

"I took some work home last night. Needed these reference books." Jackson replied fondly, glancing into the box with the rapt expression of an eight-year-old with a box of puppies.

Jack chuckled. Daniel loved his books and treated them almost as kindly as O'Neill did his fishing tackle.

"Uh, Jack?" Jackson's voice changed in both tone and timbre to that of panic. "Jack! Shit..."

Jack turned quickly to his friend. Daniel had hurriedly put the box down and was grabbing at his jacket and shirt.

"Daniel, what's wrong?" He asked as Jackson began to pull his clothes off. "Danny!"

The younger man was obviously in distress, slapping at his shoulder and arm. "Something's stinging me. I've got to...get it off! Get it off!

O'Neill dropped his papers and grabbed Jackson's coat, pulling it off. Then he took hold of his friend's shirt and ripped it off Daniel's shoulders, popping buttons and tearing fabric. A winged insect flew out and away from the struggling men. Then to the Colonels dismay, Daniel collapsed into the corner, his face turning a bright red hue. "Daniel, Danny.... what's wrong? Tell me what's wrong!"

Daniel slumped into his arms, managing to raise his head to his team chief's questioning. "I'm allergic...allergic...to..." He was gasping for air, as if his lungs had ceased to take in oxygen. Jackson's eyes rolled back and he passed out in O'Neill's arms.

"Shit...Danny...c'mon here...Danny." To a panicked O'Neill's horror, his friend stopped breathing. Jack pulled his comatose friend out of the corner and into his lap. He could still feel his friend's heart beating but he knew that Daniel had to breathe for that to continue. Jack reached up and hit the button to level twenty-seven where the infirmary was. Then he started CPR.

As the elevator continued its downward trip, Jack continued to breathe for his best friend keeping the fifteen count going. Then suddenly the car stopped and the doors opened.

Five personnel, including SG2 and SG3 stood staring at the tableau. On the floor of the elevator car, Colonel Jack O'Neill and Doctor Daniel Jackson were seemingly involved in a passionate embrace. Jackson was lying in O'Neill's lap with his shirt torn off and red hickeys all over his chest. O'Neill had him clasped in his arms in a lip lock that would make a B Movie queen blush. The Colonel glanced up and, seeing they were discovered, yelled "Shit", reached up and slapped the down button once again causing the door to close and the car to resume it's downward trip. The silent group turned to each other in shock. Finally, one of the Marines, a Gunnery Sergeant looked at Major Ferretti and extended his hand palm up. "That will be twenty dollars. I knew they were queer for each other." Ferretti shaking his head, handed the bill over.

Finally, the car came to a halt on the correct floor. As the door opened, O'Neill started shouting. "MEDIC! DOCTOR FRAISER! MEDICAL EMERGENCY!

Seconds later, five medical personnel and a gurney appeared. Janet Fraiser, still in her street clothes ran into the emergency room. As a visibly upset Colonel watched, his friend was stripped, intubated, IV'd and had received five huge shot needles full of something. Finally, Fraiser looked up at him and nodded. Jack collapsed into a chair against the wall.

The petite medic came over and sat down next to him. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure. We were in the elevator and he said something stung him. Then he passed out."

Janet knew there was more than that involved but Jack had given her the important stuff. "It was probably an Africanized Bee. There has been an influx of those insects because of the change in weather." She commented. "Daniel's slightly allergic to regular honeybees. When he was stung multiple times by this more toxic one he went into anaphylactic shock." She smiled at him. "You probably saved his life by your quick action."

Jack smiled shakily at her. "You know, it's only eight fifteen and it's already been a hell of a day."

She patted him on his shoulder. "It'll get better. You watch."

"I hope so. Shit! Danny's books...they're still in the elevator." He turned to go. "Thanks a lot Doc, for all you've done. But I'd better go get his books before he comes too and has a heart attack on top of everything else."

She smiled fondly at him as he walked out of the door then turned back to her patient.

When Jack got back out to the elevator, the car with all of his friend's priceless books was gone. He impatiently pushed the button several times and finally the door opened. There, lying in a pile of discord, was the traveling library of one Daniel Jackson and his own soggy notes and reports. As he entered the elevator the door closed after him and the car began to ascend upwards in response to another summons. O'Neill had finally gotten everything in order and back in the long suffering cardboard container when the door slid open to admit Major Samantha Carter.

"Hi Sir, what's going on?" She asked brightly.

He looked up from where he was kneeling and tried to smile at his second in command. "Daniel's in the infirmary with anaphallic shock."

"What?" She looked...stunned. "What did you say?"

"He got stung by a damn bee of some kind. Lots of times. He passed out and quit breathing."

"Oh," she finally said. "You mean anaphylactic shock." She shook her head. "Is he going to be all right?"

"Yea, Doc has him all hooked up to stuff and gave him some honkin' big shots."

"That's too bad." She looked very concerned for their youngest team member. "He could have died."

Jack struggled to get to his feet. His knee was beginning to hurt because of all the strange positions he'd been putting it in. "Ya think. Give me a hand with this stuff will ya."

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry I wasn't thinking..."

"No problem. Here hold these." He gave her the smaller pile of sodden paper. "I don't want to get these books wet. They're probably older than I am."

As the two officers stood together in the car, it jerked slightly and a light mist of dust and debris settled down on them. Carter ducked her head and squinched her eyes shut. O'Neill tried to protect the rare volumes from the dirt. "What the hell was that?" He complained. "This is getting ridiculous." Then he noticed that Carter was rubbing her left eye with her free hand. "What's the matter?"

"I've got something in my eye. Probably some dust particles." She tried to smile at him but tears of pain shone in her eyes and the left one was reddening. She tried to get the minute piece of dirt out by blinking rapidly but it wasn't working.

"Oh for crying out loud." O'Neill said as he dropped the box again and gently took her face in his two hands. "Let me see, Carter." He gently pried her eyelid back and looked worriedly into her blue and red eye. "Let's see, I think if I rub it to the outside, it's supposed to come out easier." She continued to blink as the tears filled the eyelids and he tried not to hurt her any more as he attempted to dislodge the bit of debris.

Suddenly the elevator door slid open and there was the same group that had been witness to the Daniel debacle. Jack once again exclaimed "Shit" in a loud voice and slapped the button to take the car down to the twenty-seventh level to the infirmary.

Ferretti smiled easily as the car door slammed shut and turned back to the Marine Gunny. "Give me my twenty back."

The older soldier pulled the bill out of his fatigue pocket and groused. "This doesn't prove a thing. SG1 is just...well they're just damned...incestuous!"

"Ah, ha! Incestuous is not queer. It's just...well...it's just SG1. So, give me back the damn money."

After depositing yet another team member in the infirmary, (Carter had a scratched cornea) and checking on Daniel's condition (which had improved with proper medication), Jack realized that he had left Daniel's valuable books unprotected in the elevator car, again.

When the car again returned to the twenty-seventh floor, the cardboard box of books were no longer in it. "Good Grief!" Jack shouted at no one in particular but was heard by almost everyone on the twenty-seventh floor. He punched the button on the elevator wall and headed for his office. Surely someone would return the books to Daniel's office.

O'Neill finally arrived at his own little assigned work area and pulled off his hat and fatigue jacket. He shook his head and started to make a pot of coffee. Only started, because his can of coffee grounds was no longer in its usual place beside the Mr. Coffee. Growling out imprecations in several languages that no one knew that he spoke but himself and Hammond, the Colonel headed for the commissary to get a cup of Air Force java.

On the way there, he posted a note on his office door. It said

REWARD

IF ANYONE FINDS A BOX OF OLD BOOKS IN A CARDBOARD BOX IN AN ELEVATOR, PLEASE RETURN THEM TO DR. JACKSON OR COL O'NEILL.

As he entered the dining hall, Jack noticed that he was the subject of several curious glances among the regulars gathered there. He grabbed a cup of coffee and a piece of toast and saw Teal'c sitting over in a corner attacking a large breakfast. Jack went over to join his sole remaining team member.

"Good Morning O'Neill. How is it hanging?"

Jack sat down with his large friend and put the toast in his mouth before he put his foot there. The Jaffa was definitely increasing his vocabulary but he wasn't ready for the Jerry Springer input so early in the morning.

"Not so good, I'm afraid." He replied while chewing. "Daniel and Carter are both in the infirmary and I've lost a bunch of Daniel's books in the elevator." O'Neill shook his head mournfully. "I'm offering a reward."

"Then perhaps they will reappear quickly. What has happened to Danieljackson and Majorcarter?"

"Daniel got stung by a bee and Carter scratched her eyeball in the elevator." He swallowed the cold dry toast.

"I would think that you should avoid elevators the rest of the day O'Neill. You do not appear to do well in them."

"Ya think?" O'Neill shook his head. "I'm having a run of bad luck and I'm not sure I'm safe to be around." He looked up at Teal'c. "Maybe sitting next to you isn't a good idea. I don't want the whole team in the infirmary because of me."

"I feel in no danger, O'Neill." The big Jaffa replied amicably.

"Well, I hope not for your sake." He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Well, I've got the Team Chief meeting to go to in ten minutes, so I'd better go. See you later."

"I will endeavor to locate Danieljackson's books while you are in the meeting."

"Thanks, T. I appreciate that."

Jack walked back to the elevator and pressed the button to his office level. 'Hum, no books' he thought. 'Well, surely they'll show up. Nobody else can read them anyway.' As the elevator made it's slow climb it suddenly shook and stopped. 'What the hell...'

O'Neill hit the button again. Nothing. 'Well, this is peachy.' He thought to himself. He hit the button again and the recalcitrant car suddenly dropped 10 feet down the shaft. Jack picked himself up off of his bad knee. "Owwch." He complained to no one. "What is it anyway?" When no one answered, he picked up the telephone receiver hanging on the side of the wall and tapped the cradle a few times.

A familiar voice picked up on the other end. "Seiler."

"Sergeant Seiler, this is Colonel O'Neill. I'm stuck in elevator number 3 somewhere between the twenty-eighth floor and the twenty-fifth floor. It has thrown dirt in Carter's eyes, stung Daniel, eaten his books and now is holding me prisoner during General Hammond's team chief meeting which I am supposed to be at. Can you please fix this beast and get me the hell out."

A pregnant pause occurred then the Sergeant's voice came back on the line. "Colonel O'Neill, wasn't there a sign on the door?"

"No, Seiler, if there was a sign on the door I wouldn't have gotten in the damn thing now would I?"

"Uh, no Sir. Of course not." The voice said quietly. "Sir, we've been working on that one for a couple of days...but we'll get you out." O'Neill could hear Seiler put his hand over the telephone's receiver and start yelling at someone in the background. "Sir, I'm on my way to you now, just stay there okay."

O'Neill held the telephone away from his face and stared at it. "Sure, Seiler. I'll just wait right here. It's not like I have any place to be in three minutes...like giving a briefing to a Major General and ten other team chiefs." He hung up the phone and sat down on the floor of the elevator rubbing his knee.

Two floors down in the General's briefing room, Major General Hammond and ten other Colonels, Lieutenant Colonels and Majors were sitting down at the large polished table. Some of them were drinking coffee, eating donuts and talking quietly. General Hammond was pacing and looking at his watch. Finally, after a few minutes, he cleared his throat. "Well, it appears Colonel O'Neill won't be with us this morning." He stepped to the door and spoke to his secretary. "Eileen, try to find out what happened to Jack O'Neill, will you? Thanks." He returned to the head of the table and sat down. "Major Ferretti; do you know what happened?"

Louis Ferretti looked up at his commanding officer. "Sir, I've seen him this morning, but No, Sir, No I don't know where he is now."

"Very well," He nodded at SG2's leader. "Go on ahead, Son. I suppose we'll find him somewheres."

After about five minutes wait, O'Neill was back up on his feet and prying at the trap door at the top of the elevator car. This was ridiculous. He and his team had defeated Ra, Chronus, Hathor, Seth, Apophis, mechanical bugs and several other threats against earth...he would not be held captive by a damned elevator. Finally, the panel gave way dropping several pounds of fifty-year-old dirt on him. He managed to get a purchase on the edge of the resulting opening and pull himself up to the top of the car where he could see the next level's sliding door. He sat for a moment resting then he shimmied up the greasy cable that held the car suspended. Upon reaching the doors, O'Neill, using his boot knife managed to jimmy the doors open a few inches and finally regained his freedom from the filthy cage below him. He was greasy, dirty, sore, pissed off and late. As he turned to go down the hall, Jack heard a loud squealing of metal on metal and a loud crash. O'Neill turned and looked back down the shaft. The elevator, which had been about four feet below the doorway, was now thirty feet below him and a huge cloud of dust rose around him. He backed away from the opening, shook his head in amazement, then limped towards the men's room.

After cleaning up as best he could, Jack started limping down the stairs the three floors to Hammond's office and the already underway staff meeting. After slowly and painfully arriving at his destination he walked through the empty outer office. Eileen, the round middle-aged woman wasn't at her desk. He continued on to the briefing room but that was also empty. The meeting had obviously started; there were coffee cups, half-eaten donuts and folders lying on the table. But no one was there. O'Neill looked around, shrugged his shoulders and left. He needed a shower and he had a clean uniform in the locker room. Since he obviously wasn't needed here he'd get cleaned up for the tongue lashing that he expected to get from Hammond.

Jack limped down to the twenty-eighth floor to the locker room. He pulled a clean towel down, gathered up his soap and shampoo and headed to the stalls. Ten minutes later he felt like a new man, admittedly one who was not expecting to have an ass left when Hammond got hold of him but, well he had Seiler to back him up as to his whereabouts. He still wondered about the money thing with Louis and the Gunny but it was probably on a football pool or something.

O'Neill limped back up the three flights of stairs to his office area and just wanted to sit down and massage his knee before anything else happened to him. He swung open the door just in time for the electrical power to surge and his office lights to flicker out. As he stepped into the office, something lying in the middle of doorway caught his foot and he fell, striking his head on the corner of his coffee table, knocking himself out. The door gracefully swung shut behind him locking with a quiet click.

Hammond was getting very worried. He was getting strange reports on his missing Second In Command. Ferretti admitted to seeing O'Neill early in the morning in the elevator, twice but wouldn't elaborate on the circumstances. Fraiser said that he had accompanied both of his injured team members to the infirmary after their injuries. (Both Jackson and Carter were recovering nicely.) Teal'c had said they had eaten breakfast together. Sergeant Seiler had reported the Colonel as trapped in a broken elevator which was later found crashed into smithereens at the bottom of shaft number three without the Colonel in it (Thank the Good Lord). He had totally missed the abbreviated staff meeting that had been called due to the absence of too many Team Chiefs. There was a dirty uniform of his in the laundry basket in the shower room. A note was found taped to his locked office door about some missing books, but the lights inside the office was out and no one answered the locked door when it was knocked on. Jack was just plain missing and under the circumstances, Hammond was worried. 'Where the hell are you, son?' His next step was to lock down the mountain and do a room to room search.

Several hours later, Jack came to with a horrible headache. He tried to get to his knees but his bad left knee simply wouldn't support his weight. He lay where he had awoken, trying to remember where he was...and flat couldn't. He checked his glow in the dark watch face and realized that it was almost three PM. He must have been unconscious for several hours. He groaned and rolled over to a sitting position. He felt something by his legs and his sense of touch told him that he had accidentally stumbled over a cardboard box. Further investigation revealed that it held Daniel's missing antiquarian tomes. It figured. He shifted his hips to move himself closer to the wall and he discovered his desk. He realized that he was in his office and his carefully questing fingers found the button to his desk lamp. He managed to push it in and a soft light illuminated his office.

Almost immediately someone knocked on his door and he could hear someone rattling his locked doorknob. "Come on in, but be careful." He called. "The place is booby-trapped."

At the sound of his voice the door crashed open as the rest of SG1 and one worried General forced their way in with the assistance of one very large and very worried Jaffa Warrior. Hammond strode quickly to his side. "Son, are you all right?"

When he nodded, Teal'c grasped his arm and pulled him to his feet. He winced a little as his weight settled on his bad knee. He looked at the gathered crowd. Daniel was there albeit looking a little pale except for the red swollen mark on his neck. Carter's one eye had a patch covering it. Teal'c was looking very concerned and looming over him as he helped his injured leader to his office chair and Hammond looked frankly relieved to find his prodigal Colonel in one piece and relatively unharmed.

Within a few minutes and because of a phone call Hammond made, Janet Fraiser appeared to give him a quick once over as Jack related his adventures in the mountain. "Now," He finished as she palpated his complaining ACL, "There are a few mysteries here."

"Just a few, Sir?" Carter asked.

"Yea, like who removed the sign on the elevator door?"

"That, I'm afraid, was the work of a contractor hired to exterminate the bees in the elevator shaft." Sergeant Seiler entered the room and commented. "I saw them working in it yesterday and I guess he thought he had finished the job and that was all that was wrong with the elevator." He smiled. "That and I guess he didn't realize just how far the elevator shaft went down into the mountain. He wasn't allowed below the tenth floor because of the SGC."

Hammond nodded. "He evidently thought he'd gone as far as the shaft went and just drove the damned bees down to our level.

Seiler nodded. "He took the sign off and we weren't through working on the mechanical problems. I'm really sorry, Sir. You could have been badly injured. You don't know how relieved I was when you weren't in the car."

O'Neill shook his head. "No more so than I was when it dropped right after I got out of the shaft. From now on can we just padlock it and be done with it."

"Absolutely sir." Seiler agreed. "That is one thing I will do myself from now on."

Fraiser, confident that he hadn't damaged his knee any more than normal (merely a sprain) had rolled his pant leg down and seated herself next to Carter on the couch. "And Louis Ferretti told me he got his money back from the marines after he came to check on your being in the infirmary. He was betting against a relationship between you and Daniel. On your second trip with Sam, your orientation was declared, uh... incestuous but not gay. But your reputation is now...shall we say enhanced after your performances in the elevator this morning. When I explained what had really happened, your name and the honor of SG1 was cleared....again...sort of."

Hammond shook his head. "That's something else I have to talk to the marines about. This betting pool is getting out of hand. Football scores are one thing, but really..."

"Yea," O'Neill laughed. "If I were getting as much action as everyone thinks I am at my age I'd be dead by now. So the last mystery is...who booby-trapped my office door?"

Teal'c looked embarrassed. "O'Neill, I fear that it was I. I located Danieljackson's books in a broom closet. I placed them in your office where I thought you would see them as you entered. I am sorry."

"Well, if the lights hadn't gone out just when they did, I wouldn't have fallen over them." Jack assured his teammate. "No major harm done." He glanced at Fraiser who smiled and shook her head.

"Well, son. Why don't you go home and get some sleep, all of you. It has been an unusual day to say the least." Hammond rose to his feet and waived everyone to stay down. "I know I am."

At a chorus of Good Nights, Hammond left followed by everyone but Daniel. "You know I need a ride home, Jack."

"Got you covered, Danny-boy. Uh, in a platonic sort of way." The two friends laughed. "Just let me check my e-mail and we'll leave." Jack went over to his computer and clicked on the machine. After a few minutes, he shook his head and groaned.

"What's wrong Jack?" The younger man came around to look over the Colonel's shoulder.

Jack pointed at the screen, groaned and buried his head in his hands. "Here's the problem. I should have known."

"Known what?" Then Jackson looked at the screen and sympathetically patted him on the shoulder. "Oh, yea, it is Friday isn't it. Sorry Jack."

The screen read:

THE FIC OF THE WEEK: by BadgerGater.

TITLE: MOUNTAIN OF MALEVOLENCE VRS JACK O'NEILL

AUTHOR: BadgerGater

EMAIL: BadgerGater@cs.com

DATE: 01/28/2002

STATUS: Finished

ARCHIVE: O'Neill's House, Incoming Wormhole, Heliopolis

CATAGORY: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Smarm

SPOILERS: Any and every story written

SEASON/SEQUEL INFO: Fifth season.

RATING: PG (cause of Col. Pottymouth)

PAIRING: None that can be mentioned here [;->)

SUMMARY: Jack Whumping, Danny Whumping, Sam Whumping, Sexual situations, Elevator-shafting, book-eating, bee-stinging, bad-betting, meeting-missing and general all round mayhem.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jack. I wish I did. I would love him and hug him and squeeze him and never ever let him go. I wouldn't loan him out or make him work or let him get cold. I would take him fishing and horseback riding and hiking and at night I would feed him pizza and steak and milk and butter and cheese and beer (American Pabst Blue Ribbon brewed in the land of sky blue waters). He'd never get shot or stabbed or zatted or staff blasted or ribbon-deviced. He would only be very, very tired!

AUTHOR'S NOTES: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARY--MAY YOU ALWAYS WHOMP-EM! from DebiC