samandjack.net

Story Notes: CATEGORY: Sam/Jack. Humour if you’ve got a really warped sense of humour, but not much of it.

RATING: Call it a 15 for language. I think that translates as an R, but I’m not sure

SEASON/SEQUEL: Call it season 4 for the hell of it. Or season three. I’m not sure

CONTENT WARNINGS: Language

ARCHIVE: SJA, anyone eles who wants it please ask first.

DEDICATION: To anyone who understands all the references I make. There won’t be many of you.

FEEDBACK: You must cut down all the trees in the forest with....A Herring! (Rough translation: Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer. This is one of the references I’m talking about.) This is my first fic that I didn’t get fed up with half way through, so be nice please. No flames, I keep paper near my computer.

NOTE: I sent this recently on the sgfic list, so some people might have read this before.


Colonel Jack O’Neill was sitting at his 2IC’s bedside, staring at her shallow breathing. It had been three weeks since the mission which had ended with her in a coma after a surprise attack by violent natives, and Jack had only left her bedside when ordered to by General Hammond, and occasionally when Janet Frasier stopped by to see her friend and told the Colonel to go and get some rest. She had been transferred from the SGC Infirmary to a nearby hospital, so that she could receive better care without taking up valuable space in case another team came back from a mission wounded. SG-1 had been off-world only once since, in an unsuccessful attempt to find out what the natives had done to her. They had only just made it back in one piece, and Hammond had given the team a month of downtime. If Carter was not able to return to active duty after that time, a replacement would be found for her and SG-1 would start going on missions without her.

Jacob Carter stood outside his daughter’s hospital room, watching O’Neill watching her.

-He loves her, Jacob. He’s a good man. If you speak to George about it, when she wakes up they might be able to do something about it.-

-*If* she wakes up.-

-Stop thinking negatively. Assume she’s going to wake up. If you don’t think that, you’ll become too depressed to do anything for her.-

-Well, you are the oldest and wisest of all the Tok’Ra. I’ll try to think positively.-

-Good. Now, if you remember, we came here to see your daughter.....-

Carter walked into the room. O’Neill jumped to his feet, and nodded at the General.

“Jack, George wants you back at the base. He didn’t say why. Don’t worry, if Sammie’s condition changes, I’ll let you know.”

Jack said nothing. After taking a last look at Sam, he turned and left the room.

When he arrived at the base, he noticed that people seemed to be avoiding meeting his eyes. When he found Daniel in his office, even he was avoiding looking at him.

“Hey Daniel. Jacob said that Hammond wanted me. Any idea what he wants?”

“No idea, Jack. Why don’t you go and ask him.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“How’s Sam?”

“No change.”

“I’m sorry, Jack.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Hammond was speaking to someone in his office when Jack knocked on the door. On being told to enter, he opened the door to find himself looking at Laira. She smiled at him, but he looked past her to the General, his eyes questioning.

“Son, Laira has come here to tell us about what happened to our mining operation on her planet. There’s been some sort of cave-in, and a lot of our people have been injured. I want you to go with the medical team and try and find out what happened to cause the cave in.”

“With all due respect, sir, I’m on downtime. And Cave-ins aren’t really my area of expertise.”

“I want you to go anyway.”

“For cryin’ out loud sir, you want me to go off-world while a member of my teams in hospital in a coma! You expect me to be of any real use?”

“I expect you to obey my orders, * Colonel*”

“Yes sir. When do I leave, sir?”

“Right away.”

Jack made his way down to the gateroom, fuming inwardly. He was certain that Hammond was trying to keep him away from Sam, so that he would get used to not having her around when someone else was assigned to his team. He was angry that the General had so little faith in Sam’s ability to get well.

**

He was off-world for only a day. One of the officers overseeing the mining operation had seen one of the supports holding up the roof of the mine buckle and collapse, and it was attributed to metal fatigue. Jack therefore was able to return to Earth with the wounded, to report to General Hammond.

As he came down the ramp from the ‘gate, a set of Goa-uld transport rings appeared in front of him. The SFs in the room immediately raised their weapons in preparation for the arrival of Jaffa warriors. However, when the rings disappeared, there were no Jaffa present. Only a group of teenagers and one adult, in a blue uniform. They were looking around in puzzlement.

As one of the SFs raised his weapon to fire, Jack cried out.

“Don’t shoot! they’re not Goa’uld, they’re human.”

“How do you know that, sir?”

“Look at their uniforms. That’s the British Royal Air Force.”

“Sir, they’re a load of teenagers! And they used transport rings!”

At these words, one of the teenagers spoke, in a decidedly English voice that confirmed his nationality.

“Bollocks.”

**

Hammond came down to the gate room, taking in the presence of a group of people who definitely weren’t supposed to be there. He looked towards O’Neill.

“Colonel, may I ask just what the hell is going on here?”

“I have no idea, sir.”

“I think I can help you with that, sir.”

Hammond and O’Neill both turned to look at the adult who had come through the rings.

“And just who the hell are you?”

“Squadron Leader Martin Wiles, sir. Royal Air Force. These are some cadets who are temporarily under my command.”

Hammond turned his gaze to the teenagers. The one that had expressed his opinion of their situation earlier spoke.

“Cadet Warrant Officer Michael Baker, sir. Combined Cadet Force, MTS contingent, Royal Air Force section. These are Cadet Flight Sergeant John Sladen, Cadet Sergeant Amy Heavey, and Cadet Junior Corporals Norman Warwick and Hayley Thomas.”

“That doesn’t explain to me what you’re doing here, and how you came here by using those rings.”

“Ask Norm, sir. He was * supposed * he have set in the correct co-ordinates.” The cadet looked around.

“Hey, wait a sec, that’s the Stargate! We’re in the SGC! Norm, why the * fuck* are we in the SGC? We’re supposed to be in Cornwall, you wanker!”

“I’m sorry, Mike, I must have...”

“Norm, we’re in uniform. It’s either `Warrant` or `Sir`, not `Mike`. Remember that, or I’ll speak to Reade about whether or not you really deserve that stripe on your shoulder....”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“Cadet, will you answer my questions? Why are you here?”

“As I said, sir, ask Norman. This is his Rings Test, he was in charge of getting us where we were supposed to be.” O’Neill then felt it was time to contribute to the conversation

“Can I ask what a Cadet Warrant Officer is? And what’s Squadron Leader equivalent to for us?”

Wiles had never been particularly good on equivalent ranks between the Armed Forces, so he looked to Mike.

“Warrant? Answer the Colonel’s question.”

“Yes, sir. Squadron Leader is, at least for our army, equivalent to Major. A Cadet Warrant Officer is just what it sounds like – A cadet with the rank of Warrant Officer. Basically I get called Sir but I’m not saluted by those I outrank. Even by people in the real RAF, not just the CCF RAF or the ATC.”

“Let’s move this discussion to the briefing room, people. Colonel, if you’d like to bring these people with you...?”

**

“So what you’re saying, Squadron Leader, is that Ring technology is so well-known to the RAF that you even let the more trusted of your school-age cadets use it?”

“That’s right, sir.”

“Then why the hell didn’t the British government tell us about this technology?”

“Three words spring to mind, sir.”

“No-one asked you, Warrant. And what are those three words, precisely?”

“Pot, Kettle and Black, sir.” The cadets all sniggered. Wiles allowed himself a smile. This annoyed Jack, who wanted to get the meeting over with as soon as possible to allow him to go back and see Sam.

“I’m afraid I don’t catch your meaning, cadet.”

“Two things, Colonel. Firstly, the British government doesn’t actually know about the technology. Knowledge of it is limited to the RAF. But as to the pot, kettle and black, sir, I mean that if you didn’t tell us about the gate, why the * fuck*, if you’ll excuse my French, sir, would we have any reason to tell you about the rings?”

“Your government doesn’t know about it, but teenagers do?”

“Would you trust a wanker like Tony Blair with that sort of information, sir? And kids won’t tell because of the Official Secrets Act. Even though it technically isn’t an Official Secret, as it’s entirely unofficial, we don’t know what they’d do to us if we told anyone. Plus no-one would believe it unless they saw for themselves. If you can’t trust someone when they’re fourteen, you can never trust them. And there’s always the fact that if we told, we’d lose our licenses and not be allowed to use the Rings any more.”

“Son, that still doesn’t explain why you ended up in this facility, or how you know so much about the SGC.”

“Every ring-user knows about the SGC, sir. It’s common knowledge. We can use the orbs, little balls that look like pearls, to intercept your transmissions. We know all you know, sir. Or most of it, anyway. Colonel O’Neill, I’d just like to say that you’re my personal hero.”

“Thank you, cadet. Now how did you get here?”

Norman interrupted at this point.

“We don’t know, sir. The actual physics of it is beyond me, and I don’t think anyting like this has happened before. We’d have to speak to one of your scientists to work it out. I’d suggest Major Carter, from what I’ve heard she’s one of the best.”

Mike leaned over and hissed at Norm. Jack was unable to work out what he said, but Norm’s expression changed and he apologised profusley for what he had just said, saying he had not meant to cause anyone any grief. O’Neill glared at both of them, and then remembered something.

“Genral, I remember Garshaw saying something about the Goa’uld being able to trace those little communications things. Wouldn’t it have come to their attention, and therefore ours, if the British were using them?”

“Sir, we’ve got a way to protect our signals so that the Goa’uld can’t detect them. We know a lot about the technology. As we are unable to talk to Major Carter, perhaps you could contact the Tok’Ra to help us? It would be to your advantage, as we would then be morally obliged to share some of our knowledge with you, and we also wouldn’t appear inside your mountain at inconvenient times.”

“As it happens, there’s a member of the Tok’Ra on Earth right now, Squadron Leader. Colonel O’Neill will take you and your cadets to him now.”

“I will, sir?”

“I see no reason why you should not. I’m inclined to trust these people. They have at least shown us identification that proves who they are, and greater knowledge of the Rings technology would be useful. They may somehow know things the Tok’Ra don’t, and you can always shoot them if they become dangerous.”

“Shouldn’t we at least scan them for Goa’uld, sir?”

“This isn’t the way the Goa’uld work, Colonel, and I doubt that they would take hosts as young as these appear to be. The younger of the Junior Corporals is only fifteen, after all. The Goa’uld don’t tend to take hosts that young. That, and the fact that if the Goa’uld could get here through the rings, don’t you think they’d have done so by now?”

“I suppose so, sir. And while we’re topside, these kids can contact their superiors back home, and you can check with the RAF as to whether they have some cadets missing.” Wiles nodded his consent.

“General, I would suggest you try to contact Air Commodore Houghton. He was supposed to be testing Norman here’s proficiency with the rings, and can vouch for the rest of us. Remember that not all of the people in the RAF know about the Rings.”

“Thank you. Dismissed.”

**

As they got into the lift to travel up the exit of the mountain, Daniel Jackson joined them. The base grapevine had already told him about the strangers who appeared in the gate-room, and he was eager to see them for himself, and take advantage of an excuse to go and see Sam. When he and Mike got into a discussion about comparative mythology on the way up, Jack and Wiles rolled their eyes at each other.

“The kids who get accepted into the Ring programme always seem to get depressingly interested in mythology the minute they get their licenses. With most it wears off, but from what I hear, Mike’s always been interested in it and with him, it hasn’t worn off. It’s grown, and if you get him started on the subject, he won’t stop.”

As he was standing behind him and couldn’t therefore be seen, Mike gave his temporary CO the finger. When his friends laughed at him, he gave each of them in turn the V-sign, and returned to his conversation.

“Why’s Thor in charge of the Asgard fleet? And why for that matter do they call themselves the Asgard? The gods of Asgard were called the Aesir, not the Asgard, and Thor wasn’t their leader.”

“He was, however, the god of war.”

“Yeah but still, you’d think his father would come into the equation somewhere.”

“I don’t know. Jack knows Thor better than I do.”

“I know. I know quite a lot about you people.”

“You trying to make us paranoid, kid?”

“Nothing wrong with a little healthy paranoia, sir.”

Jack raised one eyebrow, and thanked whatever benevolent entity had arranged for Teal’c to spend his downtime with his family in the Land of Light. He had the feeling that the kid would have confused the Jaffa so much that no-one would be able to get a word in edgeways with Teal’c repeatedly asking what was meant by what the kid said, and what his jokes meant.

An SF drove them to the hospital where Sam was being cared for, and they all went in. Jack led the way to the room where Sam was, and where accordingly Jacob would be. He told them to wait outside while he went in to speak with Selmak, and tell him that there were some people who wanted to speak to him. He did not notice the smile that flitted across Mike’s face at the mention of Selmak’s name, and he wouldn’t have understood it if he had.

There was an unfamiliar figure in the room with Jacob. Both men turned round when Jack entered, and Jacob smiled.

“George finished with you then, Jack? This is my son, Mark. I don’t think you’ve met before.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mark. I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Thank you. You must be Colonel O’Neill.”

“That’s me. How come everyone I meet today already knows who I am?”

“Jack?”

“Some people arrived at the base today. Would like to speak with you.”

“I’ll leave you two to it. I have to get home. Dad, call me if Sam wakes up, okay? I wouldn’t want her to think I didn’t care that she was in a coma.”

Mark left the room, to find his kids, whom he had brought with him to see their aunt, talking to a group of uniformed teenagers who were loitering in the corridor. One of them seemed to be trying to explain to his son what was so funny about Monty Python’s Cheese-Shop sketch. Mark called his kids over to him, and went to find a room to sit in and wait. He did not have to go home, having got a week off work, but he had the feeling that O’Neill nad his father had something to discuss that required he be elsewhere.

**

“So, Jack. Who wants to speak to me?”

“A group of people form the RAF. They arrived in the gate-room through a set of Rings, and don’t know how they got there, as they were trying to get to somewhere in Cornwall. They said that the RAF has had access to several sets of rings ever since it was formed in 1919. They know all about the Stargate programme, and think that a Tok’Ra might be able to help them figure out what went wrong with the rings.”

“Bring them in, then. Perhaps talking about technology will make Sam wake up!”

**

Mike was the first to enter the room. Jacob, who had let Selmak take over, drew in a sharp breath. On the bed, Sam flinched. Selmak stared accusingly at the cadet.

“You are Goa’uld. Who are you, and why have you come here?”

Mike replied in a perfectly normal voice, “I am not a Goa’uld”

Sam’s voice was audible from the bed, husky and quiet.

“Oh please. We can tell.”

Mike’s eyes flashed, and he spoke in a different voice. A Goa’uld voice. But not in a Goa’uld manner.

“There is no fucking way you could describe us as Goa’uld and then claim that the Tok’Ra are not Goa’uld. Think back, Selmak. The Tok’Ra are not the only ones who oppose the System Lords.”

Jack was torn between wanting to rush over to Sam and make sure she was okay, and wanting to shoot the boy who stood in front of him. Selmak was looking as though he was trying to remember something. Daniel, who had come in behind Mike, was vaguely wondering what sort of Goa’uld would swear in English. The other members of the RAF were acting as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. The Goa’uld within Mike was thoroughly amused.

-Mike, let me have a little fun with Selmak. For old time’s sake. I want to see if he still remembers me.-

-Be my guest. As I’m your host, that would make sense.-

-Ta. I owe you one-

-Don’t you bloody well forget it, mate.-

Mike’s eyes flashed again, and the Goa’uld spoke again.

“If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended: That you have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear, and this weak and idle theme, no more yielding than a dream. Gentles, do not reprehend, if you pardon, we will mend, and as I am an honest puck, if we have unlearned luck, now to scape the serpent’s tongue, and we will make amends ‘ere long. Give me your hands if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.”

As he spoke, Jacob’s face became suffused with recognition. He smiled, and put his hands in Mike’s.

“Puck, it’s been a long time. Centuries. How’ve you been? Jacob tells me that that speech of yours is now part of a very famous play.”

“I’m doin’ good, Selmak me old beauty me old mate. Become completely modernised by this here kid and his mates. Last host did me for seven hundred years. Knew Shakespeare, the bloke who wrote the play, and suggested the speech to him. He liked it, and now it’s gone down in history. I am immortal.”

“How’s Oberon doing?”

“He’s good. Got a few marital problems since Titania got a new host he didn’t much care for, but he’s still going strong. Forces us to keep the old traditions going and whatnot. It’s good of him, prevents us from forgetting the myths that made us strong. Though I have to say, my little chat with Bill Shakepeare did more good than Oberon’s whole Midsummer thing ever will.”

“Forgive me for interrupting this touching reunion, but I believe these kids were here for a reason? The Rings, and stuff?”

“Colonel O’Neill, do you not know who you are talking to? This is Puck, the original practical joker if you don’t count Loki. He works for Oberon, king of the Faeries. As in Midsmmer Night’s Dream.”

“I was never much of a one for Shakespeare, personally.”

“Anyway, Puck, how’ve the last few centuries been? You introduced Rings and Orbs to the Tau’ri?”

“Our lot call them Terrans. And yeah. A group of us joined the RAF when it was formed, for a laugh, and people got suspicious when we didn’t age, So we told our superiors what we were, and taught them the technology, on condition it wasn’t used against other Terrans. The CCF and the Air Training Corps have provided young people to keep the Rings in use, as they seem to find it incredibly fun, and ignore the potential dangers of the Rings. We also get the occasional new host from the RAF, though hardly any of us choose cadets. Mike and I clicked, however, and he became my host just over two months ago. I lie low for the most part, helping him in exams and stuff. All he has to do in exchange is help me with the Duty every year, and see Dream once very six months to satisfy my ego.”

Jack had by this time stopped listening and crossed over to Sam’s bedside, where he was smoothing her hair back from her face. She was still awake, though barely, and looked as though she was about to fall asleep again. But at least it wouldn’t be a coma. Jack smiled to himself, looking forward to having Carter back on his team.

A nurse came in to check on Sam, and shooed away most of her visitors, leaving only Mike, Jack and Jacob in the room. Fortunately, she had not heard the two symbionts speaking, and so was unaware that anything unusual was going on in the room. Jacob, suddenly having an idea, asked Jack to leave the room for a moment. The Colonel left, reluctantly, and Jacob spoke to Mike.

“This is addressed to both of you. You’ve noticed how O’Neill looks at my daughter?” Mike nodded quickly. He was a teenager, he was not stupid. “Well, because of USAF regulations, they can’t be together. I know Sam cares about him too, and knowing about what you do at Midsummer, was wondering whether you could do anything to help.....?”

“It’s past Midsummer, sir. It’s nearly September. Midsummer’s the traditional night for that sort of thing, and then only in woods in England.”

“You don’t think you could make an exception? In return for my helping you to work out what’s wrong with your Rings?”

“If what you’re saying is true, they already care for each other, and it’s only regulations that are in the way. I don’t have any anti-regulation potions. If it means that much to you, I’ll just try and get the regs waived. I think I can make both O’Neill and Hammond listen to me, and Amy, one of my friends, can talk to your daughter about admitting her feelings, in return for my recommendation that she be made Head of Section next year.”

“Very well, Cadet or Warrant or Puck or whoever. And if it makes Sam better, she can also help us with the Rings situation.”

“I think we have an agreement, General or Selmak or whoever.”

**

When Mike found Jack, he was in the hospital waiting room drinking cold coffee from a polystyrene cup. The other cadets were in a corner milking Daniel for SGC gossip, and his personal feelings about being part of the SGC. Wiles was at a nearby phone, explaining to his superiors back in England what had happened and reporting what they were trying to do about it. Mike went and stood next to Jack.

“Would you step outside with me for a moment, sir?”

**

It was beginning to rain. Jack stood in the lee of the hospital wall for protection, but Mike was not bothered by it. Travelling to school by the Metropolitan Line ensures that you’re used to standing around in the cold without any shelter, while you wait for a train that should have arrived several hours previously.

“So, Goa’uld-kid, what did you want to come out here for?”

“I wanted to talk to you, sir. About Sam Carter.”

“What about her?”

“You love her, don’t you?”

“What?”

“I’ve noticed the way you look when you’re near her, or her name is mentioned. You love her.”

“So what it I do? Regulations don’t permit me to have `relations` with her.”

“Yeah, I heard about it. You’re not allowed to shag someone under your command.”

“Just say what you wanted to say, kid. It’s cold and wet out here, for cryin’ out loud.”

“Okay, then listen to me. My symbiont, Puck, has a reputation. As you know nothing about Shakespeare, just listen to me. Every Midsummer Night, Puck hangs around in a wood somewhere and uses a potion to send people to sleep. It’s because Oberon’s such a traditionalist. Anyway, he puts potion in the eyes of sleeping people so that they fall in love with the first person they see when they wake up. Puck therefore has a reputation as something of a match-maker. I know you don’t like Goa’ulds, but from what I know of you, I think you’re quite similar to Puck. You’d like him. So let me give you this advice on behalf of his reputation: Tell Sam you love her. She loves you, too. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Except my career, and her career.”

“You know, in the RAF we don’t have the same regulations as you, and we work fine. I even know an officer married to an Aircraftman, and I think he’s under her direct command sometimes, so we can’t have the same regs as you. It’s never been a problem for us, and I think that argument could do well for you with Hammond. He’s a nice bloke, and for all you know he might be able to arrange an exception for you. The SGC’s not exactly a typical base, anyway. So think about it.”

**

“I knew you were a decent bloke, General. Wish your people weren’t so blind about that, or their own feelings for each other. We’ve done you a favour, and you’ve done us one. I think we might be able to do business with you in the future. On one condition.”

“And what would that be, son?”

“You don’t make treaties without consulting us. We have vastly superior technology to you, and we understand to a much greater extent how it works, which is not surprising, seeing that Oberon invented the Rings technology, and the Orbs. We haven’t stepped in before because we agree with what you’ve done, but don’t assume that we always will. You make treaties on behalf of all the Tau’ri, but you don’t consult all the Tau’ri about it. My superiors won’t always stand for that. Think about having a permenant liason officer here. When I’m finished at university, I’ll volunteer for the job. Meanwhile, think about it. Puck knows enough to get me through university in less than a year, so I might not be too long. It would have to be unofficial, though, because of the amount Parliament doesn’t know.”

“We’ll think about it, son. Thank you for what you’ve done for O’Neill and Carter. I hope they’ll take it from here themselves.”

**

A week later

**

“Hey Carter, how you doin’?”

“I’m much better, thank you sir. I should be fit for active duty within a week.”

“Glad to hear it, it hasn’t been the same without you.”

“Good. Nice to know I’m wanted.”

“How’d you get rid of those kids, anyway?”

“We worked out that the reason they came here was that the boy called Norm who was supposed to get them where they wanted to be had pressed one little button on the rings by mistake. The rings automatically transported them to the nearest stargate, which was this one. Mike says they’ll tell their superiors about it , so it shouldn’t happen again unless somone does it deliberately.”

“Oh. One more thing, Carter.”

“Sir?”

“Just this.”

He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips. After a moment of shock, she started kissing him back. They only broke off when they needed air.

“Guess those cadets last week did us a favour.”

“Sir?”

“Given that I just kissed you, I think you can call me Jack. Anyway, the one with a snake in his head told me to do this. He spoke to Hammond, and found out that he’d been waiting for this to happen, and got permission from the President ages ago.”

“Oh good.”

With that, she leaned forward and kissed him again. When they stopped, her blue eyes met his brown ones.

“I love you, Sam.”

“I love you too, Jack.”

“Sweet.”



End Notes: Feedback? Drool, drool. Tell me if you think it deserves a sequel. Otherwise I’ll keep writing this shit anyway. Mwahahahaha!

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