Serendipity 2/2 (PG13 - Hermione/clone!Jack)

[sarhea]

Title: Serendipity - Part 2 
Author: sarhea
Categories: Harry Potter, Stargate SGC, Crossover, xover
Rating: PG-13 mainly
Ships: Hermione Granger, clone!Jack O'Neill
Summary: They walk in two completely dissimilar worlds, have very different skills and conflicting philosophies. Their paths should never have crossed. But it has. How on Earth did that happen?
For: 20_fics  
Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione Granger or Potterverse.  I do not own mini-Jack or Stargateverse.
Status: Complete, As of June 4, 2011

Part 1 | Part 2

015. “Get lost.”

Jon glared. Hermione had told all of them she was really famous in the wizarding world but Jon hadn’t quite believed her. Sure, she would have been well known in Britain, Europe, but in America?

But then again Americans did specialize in celebrity and royalty watching. Hell, there were blogs and groups that specialized in following and reporting in on popular public figures. It was probably, forget it Definitely, the same in the magical enclaves.

He desperately wanted to force himself into the mob, to separate her from the useless, fawning idiots. Drooling immature pups. Idiot sheep. He so desperately wanted to cut into them verbally but he held his tongue. They were here to secure resources and allies that could help SGC, not make enemies.

But then he saw a particular idiot in purple robes approach Hermione. He was blandly attractive in the typical blue-eyed blonde way but there was nothing even vaguely resembling intelligence or insightful thought in those blue eyes. There was no intelligence but a vague animal cunning. This fool was a user.

Jon lost control.

~o~

“Get lost.”

Hermione blinked and ceased her attempts to dislodge the amorous male’s grip on her arm to stare at Jon.

So did William Thackery Franklin.

“Excuse me?” His accent was so unlike the comfortable cadences of Uncle Daniel and all the soldiers and scientists on the base. So polished and haughty. Like Malfoy.

“I said… Get. Lost.” Jon enunciated clearly. “You’re interrupting our plans.”

The American wizard stared and sniffed at the presumptuous demand. “Miss Granger?”

Hermione smiled apologetically even as she freed herself from him.

“My companion is rather abrupt but he does have a point.” She stepped over towards Jon and placed a restraining hand on his arm. Just in case he decided to fly at Thackery. “We have a rather tight schedule for today. In fact for the rest of the week.” She added quickly.

The wizard sniffed but took the hint. “Very well. If you need any assistance feel free to owl me.”

Hermione nodded. Her response was uttered in bland utterly neutral tones. “Of course.” And she watched the wizard retreat before spinning on Jon, glaring at him. “What in Merlin’s name got into you?”

“I don’t like him.” Jon’s tone was mulish and defiant.

Hermione softened. “Neither do I. But we must be polite. Wizarding enclaves are rather closed microcosms. Bad reputations and rumours are hard to throw off.”

Jon shook his head. “I get that. The military is like that as well. But that ass isn’t someone we want even close to SGC. He’s a user, through and through.”

Hermione blinked. “Really?”

“Yes really.”

Hermione chewed on her lower lip. “My contacts say the same.” She admitted. “But he is a connected wizard. I don’t want to burn any bridges if I can avoid it.”

Jon considered her reasoning. “Okay. Just don’t go anywhere with him.”

Hermione laughed. “I won’t.” She tilted her head to one side. “You look rather tense. I find it hard to believe William Franklin is the only reason for your bad temper.”

Jon looked away, around, before meeting her eyes.

“You’re right.” He admitted. “I’ve been pissed all morning.”

“May I ask why?”

He waved around. “You’ve been mobbed all day, the moment we stepped into the enclave, whenever we enter a new store or restaurant or public place. It seems like every single wizard around wants a piece of you.” His expression was very earnest. “And none of them are good enough for you. They don’t look like the type to keep their head on straight in a crisis. Neither are they acting sensibly or talking smart like Carter or Danny-boy. They’d never keep up with you.”

Hermione couldn’t resist reaching out to hug the younger male tightly.

“Thank you. Thank you for looking out for me.” Then she drew back and punched him in the shoulder. “Even though I can look after myself.”

“Yeah yeah. But I’d do that for all of my friends. Especially Danny-boy. He has a tendency to get into trouble without even trying!” His eyes were sharp. “But tell me, do you really like being fawned over by wet-behind-the-ears puppies?”

Hermione shook her head. “Not really. They’re a major reason why I avoid the enclaves.” She made a gesture. “They don’t know Hermione Granger, and they aren’t really interested in getting to know her. They want the Best Friend of Harry Potter, Heroine of the Second Voldemart Wars, Brightest Witch.” She snorted softly. “They want me for my influence, for my womb.” She ignored Jon’s blush. “And to be honest I’m not interested in having children or settling down. I want to live first.” Her expression lightened. “Do you want to help me pick an owl?”

Jon blinked. “An owl?”

“Yes an owl. Enclaves don’t use technology remember? We use owls to deliver letters, kind of like carrier pigeons.”

“Ohhh-kay. As long as I don’t have to clean up after it.”

Hermione laughed. “You won’t. I just want to make sure I pick an owl that likes you.” She grinned impishly. “They tend to be very possessive and protective of their owners. I don’t want you getting scratched because you hug me.”

“Oh.” A pause. “How big are they? They don’t bite I hope.”

Hermione smirked. “Hedwig was a Great Snowy Owl. A mature one can have a wingspan of up to 1.5 meters. She wasn’t too big, about 60 centimeters long but she had very sharp claws and powerful wings. When she was annoyed you’d know.”

“Oh.” Jon’s voice was definitely weaker and hesitant. “Are you sure you want to buy an owl? You’re going to be spending a lot of time on base or even off planet. Pets don’t work unless you have a roommate who can take care of them.”

“Don’t worry. That’s why you’re going to help me choose. So you’ll get along with my new owl.”

“Ohhh.” This time it was brighter and more confident.

018. “That’s not mine.”

“Jon, do you mind if I take a closer look at the box on your dresser?”

Jon wrapped a towel around his waist and knotted it securely before draping a second one over his head, roughly towel drying his hair as he walked out of the bathroom. One great thing about being non-military was the non-regulation hair length. He took great pleasure in flaunting his grey-free brown hair in front of his genetic donor.

“What box Danny?”

“This box.”

Jon padded over to see just what Daniel was referring to.

It was a small item, about eight inches long and four inches wide and high, made of some old dark wood and intricately carved on all five sides from what Jon could see.

“That’s not mine.”

“It was on your dresser.” Daniel pointed out.

“Well it’s not mine. I don’t know how it got there?”

Daniel Jackson nodded slowly. “Somehow I’m not surprised you don’t.”

“What do you mean Danny? Do you know something about it?”

The archaeologist carefully lifted the top off revealing the hollow interior containing three small navy blue silk draw-string pouches.

“I saw Hermione eyeing a similar box when we were in the enclave.” He admitted. “She placed an order requesting some customized carvings.” He noted Jon’s interest and continued, pointing out the specific designs around the side and lids. “See these? They are Nordic runes and Ogham glyphs for protection, health, healing, and safety.”

He loosened the strings on the pouches and turned them upside down, emptying the contents into the box. Several small pieces of silvery metal hit the silk with soft clinks.

Jon could not resist the urge to dig into the silk, and examine the items. They were engraved jewellery: cufflinks, a pendant resembling a dog tag on a chain, and a flat signet ring depicting the Stargate symbol for Tauri on the face (the inverted V with a small O on top), and smaller carvings around the rim and the sides.

“It’s platinum and mithril.”

Both men looked up towards the doorway. Hermione was standing just inside, leaning against the jamb. She pushed herself off and approached the pair.

“I picked them up for you.” She spoke directly to Jon. “Protection and health. Don’t worry about the cost, I squeezed it into the expenses General Hammond authorized. Not sure how much it will help off-planet but it can’t hurt.”

Daniel frowned. “I thought such runic enchantments won’t work for non-magicals.”

“They won’t. But Jon and Jack aren’t non-magicals. They have magical ancestry and latent magical energy. Not enough to use a wand and practice magic, but enough for hyper-aware intuition and unusual luck. Runic empowerment depends on the magical environment and the abilities of the wearer, but Jon does have enough potential to activate a few of the more basic protections.” Her eyes caught the subject of the conversation. “Just take it okay? Give me some peace of mind by wearing at least one of them all the time.”

Jon opened his mouth to protest then shut it at her expression. Wordlessly he fished out the chain with the dog tag and slipped it over his head.

“I will.”

Her beaming smile was his reward.


010. “Lose the pants.”

“Move it. Move it. Move it. Move it.”

Hermione winced as she obeyed Jon’s chanted orders. Her hands were scraped raw as she scrambled for handholds, for leverage, into the cave and out of the cold drenching downpour. She crawled forward on her hands and knees, deeper into the dimness, feeling along the rocky walls for the back of the cave. Once she hit it she allowed herself to collapse on her arse panting hard. Hermione knew she couldn’t compare to the military personnel in SGC but she had considered herself generally fit and in good shape. She hadn’t realized SGC teams used a whole other set of muscles scrambling up and down rocky surfaces, to safety and away from enemies.

The darkness receded when Jon turned on the battery powered lantern to quickly examine their surroundings for alternate exits and unpleasant surprises.

“Don’t bother.” Her voice was low and hoarse. Hermione slipped her own backpack off her shoulders and began digging through it. She needed to take a dose of pepper-up to stave off illness. But first… “Ha!” She produced a glass jam jar charmed to be unbreakable and cast a very familiar spell. The Bluebell flames charm. Carefully she manoeuvred the globe of blue fire into the jar and closed it. Now they had a safe near permanent light source.

As Jon turned off his own lantern and put it away Hermione examined their surroundings. The makeshift shelter wasn’t even worthy of the name cave; it was more of a narrow crack in a granite cliff face just twelve feet deep, three feet wide with a ceiling height of seven feet at the highest point.

“Lose the pants.”

Hermione blinked, uncertain she had actually heard what she thought she had. She turned to stare at her companion.

“Excuse me?”

“Lose the pants.” His tone was patient but unrelenting. Seeing her shock he expanded. “You are wet and cold. A strong candidate for hypothermia. You need to get warm and dry. And I’m sure they don’t feel pleasant either.”

Hermione huffed. “You know I’m witch, don’t you?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So I don’t need to strip.” She glared at him before using her wand to cast a series of cleaning, drying, and warming charms on herself. Less than two minutes later, she was clean and dry. She grinned at Jon. “Do you want me to do you?” She was confused by Jon’s broad playful grin. Then she blushed realizing how her ill considered words could be construed. “Sorry, do you want me to dry and clean your clothes?”

“Please.”

And he was still as she cast the spells on him. As she cast a few more spells clearing the debris in their temporary shelter and alarms in the event of natural and other intruders Jon unrolled the camping mats and set up their sleeping bags next to each other.

“Fire?” She held her wand ready to cast the necessary charm.

“No.” He shook his head. “There is only one exit. I don’t want to risk being suffocated.”

She nodded her understanding and sat down on her sleeping bag and toed off her hiking boots, watching Jon dig through their bags for ration bars. They were of magical make and more pleasant to eat than the regular military fare.

After they had both eaten and drank some water then slipped into their own bags.

“Does this happen often?” She asked softly.

“Yeah.” Jon admitted. “Weather on other planets can be unpredictable and unpleasant. Sometimes we do meet the natives and stay in the local inns but most of the time we have to rough it.”

Hermione nodded. “It’s not too bad.” She admitted. “Next time I will charm our clothes for water repelling ahead of time. We could use something similar to a miners hat for light.”

“Bad idea. Light usually attracts attention.”

Hermione frowned. “You don’t use night vision goggles?” She inquired.

“They can be too easily compromised by a flash grenade. The rain doesn’t help either.” Jon admitted.

“I’ll see if I can find a magical equivalent.” Hermione promised. “Or make one.”

There was silence for a while.

“This isn’t too bad you know.” Jon’s voice broke the quiet. “We aren’t being chased by Jaffa or hunted by local predators. We’re warm and dry and relatively safe.”

“And separated from the rest of our team.” Hermione pointed out dryly.

Jon shrugged. “Hey, you can’t predict mudslides. Besides I know they can look after themselves. We just have to wait for the daylight before we go looking for them.” Then he grinned broadly. “You know this is usually a teenagers dream. Being alone with a pretty girl in a forest with no one around.”

Hermione snorted. “Go pull your other leg.”

“Hey. I’m being serious here.”

“Don’t be silly Jon. I’m not the type guys drool over.”

Jon blinked and twisted in his sleeping bag to stare at his companion. “What on Earth do you mean?”

She looked in his direction then away. “You know, tall gorgeous slender blonde.”

Jon’s tongue worked before his common sense could sensor his thoughts. “You know one out of four isn’t bad.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are gorgeous.”

Hermione laughed. “Thank you. It’s sweet of you to say that. Even if it isn’t true.”

Jon opened his mouth to protest then shut it quickly. He had meant what he just said. He really did believe she was gorgeous and truthfully he had always preferred curvy to skinny. Any guy with sense would. Skinny was anorexic and fragile and weak.

Troubled by these new realizations he settled down in his sleeping bag and tried to sleep.

It was a long time before he finally managed it.


019. “Screw you.”

Jon winced. Every nerve in his body screamed and burned. This was turning out to be the mission from Hell. First he and Hermione were separated from SG-1, and then they ran into a Jaffa patrol. Jon had ordered Hermione to run while he drew their attention. He had most definitely succeeded in the second part. He only hoped she managed to get away. He knew Jack and the others would be looking for them. He just had to hold out.

~o~

Jon was delirious now. He wasn’t sure how long it had been. Hours. Days. Not weeks. Goulds were too impatient to last that long without killing their victims. And Jon hadn’t been killed and resuscitated by a sarcophagus. At least not yet. He sincerely hoped he never would. This Gould Kheb seemed to be a minor lordling without the full range of toys. What he did have was bad enough.

Jon tamped down the urge to scream. He was burning. There was fire in his veins. He wasn’t sure long he’d last but he did know one thing. He wasn’t going to tell Kheb anything.

His lips were cracked and bleeding. “That tickled.”

And he laughed when Kheb backhanded him.

~o~

The Gould was furious. He had personally overseen Jon’s last two sessions. This was the third one and Jon was certain he was going to die.

“Why do Tau’ri fight the Gods?”

Jon could not resist the urge to smile.

“Why do you smile Tau’ri?”

Jon was too weak to raise his head. “You want. To know.”

“Yes!”

“Screw you.”

The Gould blinked. Ah Goulds, each and every single one lacked an American education in slang and crude language. Then more carefully he enunciated each word separately.

“Go. Screw. Yourself.”

Jon saw the understanding dawn. He heard the ranting raving orders. He felt his nerves re-ignite and his limbs twist unnaturally. He was certain he was going to die. He was ready for it. He was okay with it. Hermione was safe. If they had Hermione they would have dragged her in to see what she would be subject to. But they didn’t have her. She was safe. That made everything okay in Jon’s world.

And then the world exploded in light and fire.

And the Jaffa shouted and the Gould screamed.

Here comes the cavalry.

Jon passed out hoping he’d last long enough to tell Hermione how much she meant to him.

017. “Die quietly.”

Kheb was terrified. A single female had managed to incapacitate or kill most of his personal guard. And she had somehow locked the entrance to the interrogation room. He could hear the rest of his Jaffa outside, trying to get in and failing.

He ducked blasts of lightening from her fingertips and shuddered as the machines around him sparked and shattered. He could sense his host body was dying. He looked down at himself. One of the explosions had driven several small shards of metal and crystal into his torso and limbs. He needed a new body.

His eyes fell upon the female invader. She was no ordinary mortal. She had an odd multi purpose hand-devices that looked more like a baton, or rod. Or she was a hoktaur. Either way she was a worthy host. He just had to draw her close enough to switch bodies.

“Stop.”

His surviving Jaffa obeyed. He hated losing Jaffa. He would have to trade to get replacements from a Queen. Mature trained adults would be expensive but young adolescents required time to be trained and to mature into suitable warriors.

“What do you want? Naquadah? Slaves? A ship? I can give you all that. And more.” It was true. She would have all that once she was his new host.

The hoktaur’s pale brown eyes were blank orbs of polished naquadria. “I want you to die. Just die quietly.” A feral expression of raw rage twisted her features. “Die Quietly! Incendio Maximus!”

The last thing Kheb saw was a huge blast of flames moving towards him. And then he saw nothing at all.

~o~

Hermione was exhausted. Her magical core was nearly drained, muscles were sore, body trembling, mind reaching shut down point. But she could not collapse. The surviving Jaffa were in shock, almost incapable of comprehending that their ‘God’ was now a broiled worm. They did not fight too hard when she used petrify and memory modification charms.

She had almost nothing left when she moved towards the slab where they had restrained Jon. She pulled out vials of healing potions and charmed bandages from her belt pack. She didn’t have to heal him completely. Stabilize him until SG-1 arrived. Just keep him alive long enough to get back to the doctors in SGC.

She cast several diagnostic charms to identify the worst of the wounds, what she could treat and what were best left to the experts. Her hands were shaking as she pulled out several disinfecting wipes and an ever-full bottle of sterilized water to begin cleaning the uncomplicated injuries. Once they were cleaned she would coat them with a healing salve and use bandages to keep the areas free from dirt.

“Don’t die. Don’t you dare die on me Jon. You lasted this long. Just hang on. Just a little bit longer.”


 012. “Did he/she just go crazy and fall asleep?”

Jack O’Neill’s ears were ringing by the time Hermione Granger finished her tirade and stomped out of Janet’s office. He ignored his ears and chased after the target of his ire before being intercepted by Janet herself.

“Just stop it Jack.”

“She broke every single rule by not waiting for us!” He was not yelling. Not in Medical. But it was a near thing. “She risked being captured herself!”

“And she’s in no shape to listen to any dressing down from you.”

Jack blinked. “Excuse me?”

Janet moved aside enough for Jack to peer into the curtained alcove. The young British witch was curled on up the gurney fully dressed, shoes and all, fast asleep.

“She’s sleeping?” He turned around and looked at his team-mates. “Did she just go crazy and fall asleep on me?”

Danny shook his head. “She’s tired and afraid Jack. She’s not used to waiting for others to rescue her. She’s looked after herself and her friends for a long time now. Her reflexive instinct is to protect her friends than wait for the legal authorities to show up.”

Carter gave him a you’re-an-idiot look. “She was separated from us for three days, chased down by Jaffa. She saw Jon captured and felt she had no alternative but to rescue him herself. She succeeded in her goal. Both she and Jon are safe and alive and more or less whole. The Gould is dead. I think it counts as an overall plus in my books.”

“But she didn’t wait for us!”

Teal’c picked up a mudstained backpack lying in a corner and pulled out a standard military two-way radio. It was cracked and coated with mud and other… wet debris.

“It appears to be broken O’Neill.”

“What?”

Jack scowled and swiped at the device and confirmed Teal’c comments. The radio was broken. Daniel was grinning broadly.

“Looks like we have the reason why she didn’t try contacting us. She couldn’t.”

Jack grumbled and huffed but in the end gave in. If he had no way to contact his back-up, and knew his team-mate was being tortured and would eventually be killed because he was too stubborn to bend, he probably would have done what she had done: Gone charging in.

He sighed and turned to Carter. “Don’t we have something more sturdy and less prone to breakage?” He whined. “I know the General and Quarter-Master hates us because of our equipment losses. Surely it would be more cost effective if these things were not prone to breaking whenever we run into trouble!”

Sam shook her head. “I’m sorry sir.” Her expression brightened. “But I have been discussing the matter with Hermione and a few of the other magicals. She mentioned something called a Protean Charm that could be useful. Only issue is it requires a latent or a magical to activate it.”

Jack sighed. “Oh all right. Just let me know when the tech-geeks have something that might work. I’d kill for a secure unbreakable method of communication off-world.”

Sam smirked. “Don’t say that around Hermione. She just might take you up on that.”

Jack scowled. “Ha ha. Very funny Carter.”


004. “Shut the hell up!”

Jon glowered. He hated seeing Hermione surrounded by wizards. Correction, he hated seeing her surrounded by wizards interested in her. She was His!

But these wizards were not the mob of strangers swarming her during an in-enclave shopping excursion. These wizards were her Friends; guys she grew up with, guys she fought for, guys who she had been involved with.

Guys who hurt her. Guys who made her feel asexual. Guys who copied assignments and homework from her because they didn’t bother to plan ahead. Guys who used her generous nature to skate through their classes.

He hated watching her catch up with her old friends from England. It made him feel like an outsider, unimportant. Just like when they found out He was a clone.

But they were important to her. So he grinned and gritted his teeth and didn’t make any snide comments. Hermione could be very protective of her friends and he didn’t want to get on the wrong side of her. Not when he desperately wanted to get on her Right side.

“Hey Mione, when are you going to stop playing around working for Muggles? Why don’t you come back home? I’m sure Kingsley would be thrilled to have you join the Ministry.”

Jon tamped down on the urge to yell at the red-headed buffoon that Hermione was not playing around. The work Hermione did, They did, was invaluable and of vital importance for the safety and security of the whole bloody planet! He concentrated on drinking his beer and biting his tongue. Hermione could defend herself. And she did.

“Ron! I’m not playing around!”

She looked very upset as she stood up and moved towards the bar, presumably to order something. None of her friends even bothered scolding the red-headed idiot for his rudeness. In fact, based on their resigned expressions, it had to be something they witnessed quite frequently. Jack could believe it. He knew he had a rude cutting tongue but never against trusted allies or friends. It wasn’t respectful. The red-headed gorilla did not respect her.

“You know, she’s too good for you Muggle folks. She’s the brightest witch, she’s not going to hang around working for your Yank Muggle government. She’s going to be returning to the real world. To Britain. Away from you Muggles.” Jon bit his lip and refused to comment. The green-eyed dude and the pretty fey-looking blonde girl looked shocked by their friend’s rudeness.

“Ron!” The guy hissed looking around hastily. No one heard the buffoon’s taunts. It seemed like Hermione’s portable runic Muffler charms were working as advertised.

“Ronald!” The girl was more shocked. “How rude! Hermione won’t like you talking like that to her new friends!”

The buffoon ignored them and stared at Jon. “This is just some foolish fling. She’s going to return to Britain. And she’s going to marry me. Just like we’re meant to.”

“Oh really Ronald?”

Jon resisted the urge to grin at the sound of familiar voice in very chilly tones. He was so glad he was not the target of her ire. It looked like the idiot was sobering up as well.

“Hey, Hermione--.”

“Just shut up!”

Every glass and ceramic mug on the table and the tray she was carrying shattered spilling alcohol and other liquids.

“Just shut the hell up and get out! I never want to see you again!”

“Hermione--.”

Small bolts of lightening jumped from her hair, setting off sparks and small fires.

The gorilla yelped when his sweater caught fire.

The fey blonde cast a spell snuffing it out.

The green-eyed bespectacled guy looked resigned and tired.

Hermione was breathing hard now, her eyes filling with tears.

“You never respected me Ronald. Back then or now. I’m never marrying a man I can’t respect and who doesn’t respect me.” Her eyes sparked with her old fire. “I’m Never, Ever, marrying you.” She turned to the other two magicals watching with solemn eyes. “I’m sorry Harry, Luna.” She looked at the other British visitors. “All of you. But I have to leave now. Jon and I have to attend a debriefing at oh eight hundred and we have to write our reports for it.”

“What about after?” Harry asked cautiously.

Jon shook his head. “We’re leaving at fourteen hundred. We have to pack and prep for the trip.”

Hermione nodded firmly. “We’re scheduled to be out of contact for two weeks.”

“How about we owl you to set up another date?” Harry tried.

“Don’t bother. We won’t get any messages until after we get back.” Jon was pleased his voice did not reveal his secret glee.

Harry looked disturbed. “Owls cannot reach you?” He frowned obviously imagining the worst.

“The American Ministry of Magic is fully aware of the nature of my work.” Hermione’s voice was smooth and clearly designed to soothe her friends. “In fact there are a six other magicals working on the same project in other teams.” She smiled coolly at everyone, more warmly at Harry and Luna. “Mum is very happy also.” She shrugged slightly. “After all that happened she’s pleased I’m out of Britain and working for a Muggle government. The work I do is interesting and different and very challenging. I like it and the people I work with. If you’re expecting me to return to England… Don’t. I’ll definitely visit but only to meet friends and family or to do research and recruiting.” She smiled blandly at Ron. “In fact please let Bill know I or someone from the British Muggle government will be visiting him with an offer of employment. My employers are most interested in his cursebreaking and exploration skills.”

Jon could not resist the broad grin spreading across his face at the sight of the purpling red-head. But he did have enough self-control not to say anything, just obediently follow Hermione out of the bar after she hugged Harry and Luna goodbye.

She had no plans on going back to England. She liked working for SGC. She liked the people under The Mountain.

Jon only hoped she had stronger emotions than ‘like’ towards one particular colleague.
008. “I love you.”

“I love you.”  Jon was a bit put off by her blank expression.

“What?”

“You know I love you, right?”  He repeated the words he rarely -if ever- voiced out loud.

She put down her pen and closed her journal.  Her expression was carefully neutral but Jon could see the hesitancy in her eyes.

“What brought this on?”

Jon made a gesture.  “Seeing that red-headed gorilla.”

“His name is Ronald.”

“Yeah, whatever.  Anyway seeing ‘Ronald’ reminded me you don’t have any obligation to stick around forever.  You managed to get half a dozen magicals to sign onto SGC and they look like they’ll survive us.  You did as you promised.  Your six months are almost up.  You could just leave, and you’d be well within your rights to do so.”

“Oh Jon…”

“Just listen to me Hermione.”  She stilled seeing the unexpectedly serious expression on his face.  “I didn’t do the casual dating thing as Jack O’Neill and I definitely haven’t done it as Jon Thorsson.  Too many secrets and enemies willing to use whoever I care for.  I don’t know if you know, but Hammond’s granddaughters were threatened and he resigned to protect them.  We caught the idiots responsible but the possibility is always there.”

Her expression was patiently tolerant.  “Yes.  I am quite familiar with that scenario.  But you’re forgetting, I work for SGC and I can look after myself.”

“I know.  So does Carter.  Jack, we’ve always been attracted to smart capable women.  Jack and Sam have danced around the issue for years but they can’t be on the same team if they’re together, so they ignore and deny and repress.  You don’t know how many times Jack nearly broke down and confessed.  Usually after he nearly lost her.  But he never did because he’s a good little soldier.  I don’t want to be a good little soldier.  I don’t want to deny my feelings because some committee decided my choice of partner is not appropriate.”

“Oh Jon…”

“Don’t interrupt me.  I’m on a roll here and I want to get this off my chest.  I like you.  I really do.  You’re smart and pretty and brave and stubborn.  But I have to admit I am like Jack.  I denied my feelings because I didn’t want to rock the boat.  Until I nearly died on PX-2547.  While Kheb was torturing me I realized I had a ton of regrets that had nothing to do with Jack and everything to do with us.  I regretted not telling you how I felt, what I wanted, what I hoped for.”

“Would you care to share those things with me?”

“I want to spend every spare minute we can have together.  I want to watch chick flicks with you just to make fun of the characters and sappy plot.  I want to take you camping, to show you the family lands in Michigan.  I want to spend nights together stargazing on Earth or any other safe planet.”  He reached out and took her hand and was satisfied by the faint tremor she could not hide.  “I want to hug you and find what ticklish spots you have.  I want to kiss you and learn first hand what makes you sigh and what makes you scream.  At this point I must confess my thoughts are more or less pornographic and I feel like a really dirty old man perving over a beautiful young woman.”

She laughed softly and Jon less uncertain.  At least she wasn’t slapping him and storming off in a righteous huff.  And he felt even better when she turned his hand over and traced light patterns on his palm.

She spoke slowly.  “You know I think if you were ever Sorted you’d be in Gryffindor.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes.  You are much braver than me.”  Dark lashes lifted as she met his gaze.  “You had the courage to share what you’re feeling.  I’ve been denying and repressing… like Jack and Sam.”

Hope surged.  “So…?”

“I feel the same way.”

“And you don’t think I’m a depraved old man?”

She laughed.  “You don’t look old.  And most people call Me an old soul.”

“No, seriously.  Are you sure you aren’t squicked by the age difference?  I had a really hard time adjusting.”

“Don’t be silly.  A large age difference is not uncommon in the enclaves, fall-spring marriages are the norm in academia, because of the long lifespans of witches and wizards.”  She grinned.  “Besides if anyone’s being the cradle robber it’s me.  Technically your body isn’t even ten years old.”

“Hey!”  The protest was automatic and the smile reflexive.  “So you’ll be my girlfriend?”

Hermione laughed and leaned forward.

“Sure, but there’s something I need to verify before I say yes.”

“What?”

“I want you to kiss me.”  Her expression was serious, eyes heated.

Jon did not have to think twice on it.  He leaned forward and captured her mouth with his.  The kiss was everything Jon had imagined, magnified ten times.  From the heat sparking in his veins Jon was certain there were absolutely no issues regarding their sexual chemistry.  At least on his part.

When they finally parted, both were breathing hard.  Her complexion was flushed, mouth swollen and red, lips parted and wet.  Jon resisted the urge to kiss her again.

“Well?”

Thick lashes lifted to reveal pale brown dilated eyes.

“I think I love you.”  She confessed.

He could not resist kissing her again, a hard brief kiss.  Then he rested his forehead against hers, content to look into her dazed eyes.

“That’s okay.  I know I love you.”


020. Writer’s Choice “Suck it up and deal.”

Hermione hesitantly glanced around.  All of SG-1, General Hammond and Dr Frasier were watching and waiting to hear just why she had requested the meeting.

“Hi, sorry for the short notice but Jon and I have something to tell you.”  Hermione began in an uncharacteristically hesitantly voice.  “I just want to say up front it is not something we decided on a whim, or to make other people uncomfortable, or--.”

She was cut off when Jon covered her mouth with his broad hand and spoke.

“We’re dating.  Just suck it up and deal.”

The reaction was mixed.

Carter’s jaw dropped.  Daniel sputtered.  Jack looked about ready to throw a fit.  Doc Frasier looked ready to rip him a new a-hole.  Teal’c was inscrutable as usual.  Hammond had a stern paternal expression, mouth open to start a lecture on the inappropriateness of the relationship.

Luckily Hermione got her act together.

“You don’t have to act all outrageously protective.  Jon hasn’t seduced me or anything.  It’s something that just… happened.”

Janet Frasier glanced around at her colleagues before stepping forward to take the lead.

“Would you try to explain How it happened?”

Hermione smiled wryly.  “First of all let me reassure all of you by saying we were friends way before our feelings changed.”  She frowned slightly.  “Changed is the wrong word.  I’m not sure how to describe it.”

“Try.”  Janet urged.

“It started after the mission to PX-2547.”

Understanding dawned.  “Jon was captured.”  Sam murmured.

“Yes.”  Hermione’s voice was very grim.  “I know I broke protocol rescuing him myself but I didn’t have time.  I couldn’t risk waiting for SG-1 to track me down.  It was then that I consciously acknowledged how important he was to me.”  She silently begged for understanding.  “I couldn’t risk losing him.”

“It started way before that for me.”  Jon began speaking when it was clear Hermione was too shaken to continue speaking.  “Like Hermione said she was a friend who understood where I was coming from, my history, and she wasn’t afraid.  The first time we visited the enclaves for that shopping trip I saw that she had a whole other life I knew nothing about, a life that she could easily return to, and leave me behind.  I didn’t like that but I kept quiet because it would be Her Choice.”

Hermione smiled tearfully and reached out to cover his hand with hers and squeeze it reassuringly.

“You don’t have to worry about that.”  Her voice was wry and wistful.  “None of them See Hermione Granger, just the public image.”

“And what about your friends from before?  The ones who visited you?”  Sam inquired carefully.

She straightened.  “They are just friends.  I don’t have any obligation to chain my future to theirs.”  Her voice was firm and resolute before turning acidic.  “Besides I went to school with most of them.  They never saw me as a female or desirable, just one of the guys, good old Hermione who’ll help you finish that essay due tomorrow, or cram for the test coming up.”

Sam winced.  She could easily see that happening.  It happened to her until she found enough self-esteem and confidence to say No.

Jon lifted her hand and brushed a kiss across the back.  “Don’t.  They are blind fools.  Immature brats who don’t have the sense to appreciate a strong woman.”

Janet Frasier and Sam Carter blinked and stared at Jack O’Neill.

“Hey!  I feel the same way about confident women.  I just don’t say it.  Besides, there is something very sexy about smart capable women who can put me in my place!”

Jon laughed.  “I definitely agree!  Smart and powerful is very sexy.  Especially when she’s saving my ass!”

Hermione blushed but smiled as the others laughed.

Then Daniel smiled wistfully.  “Does your mother know?”

Hermione snorted softly.  “Of course!  She’s the one who pushed me to acknowledge the changes in my feelings.”  She glanced around.  “I know fraternization is not permitted in the military but neither Jon or myself are enlisted soldiers.  We’re civilian employees.”

General Hammond considered her point and nodded.  “You do have a point.  I will permit it with some restrictions.”  His expression turned stern.  “You must maintain a professional relationship and be subtle, especially in public.  I don’t want our political enemies to use this as leverage against SGC.”

Jon nodded, his expression very calm and certain.  “Understood General.”

And Hermione mimicked his action.  “Of course.  I don’t want everyone gossiping about us.”  She smiled at Jon.  “Besides, everyone on base knows we are friends, they don’t need to know how friendly.”

General Hammond sighed.  “I can’t believe I’m saying this but you have my blessings.”

“Thank you General.”

“And mine.”  Daniel Jackson smiled at his female relative.

Janet Frasier glowered at Jon.  “You better treat her right or I’m coming after you with some extra long needles.”

Samantha Carter nodded slightly and smiled wistfully.

Teal’c nodded once indicating his acceptance.

Everyone turned to Jack O’Neill who appeared to be sulking before he too caved in under the unified pressure.

“Okay, okay!  I’m okay with it too.”

Hermione heaved an internal sigh of relief.  She would not have given Jon up but without the support of their co-workers, those Jon was most close to, it would have been very uncomfortable.  She squeezed the hand of her boyfriend.  Her boyfriend.  She smiled broadly.  She was so looking forward to an extended downtime and showing Jon off to her friends and family back in England.

Jon relaxed.  It was great to have SGC’s support.  He hoped Kinsey didn’t stick his nose in.  Oh, actually he hoped Kinsey did show up and make a nuisance of himself.  Hermione never had much patience with ignorant bigots.  He couldn’t wait to see how she cut Kinsey down to size.

One thing Jon was sure of… The future wouldn’t be boring with Hermione around.

Part 1 | Part 2