Jack Alpha-Bits (G to PG-13)
While the anthology series is Alphabet Soup, could Jack O'Neill's be labeled anything but Alpha-Bits? :)
icon by samantilles
My thanks to the 26 fantastic authors who helped make Jack Alpha-Bits a reality: A_loquita, Acarlgeek, Cleo the Muse, Fig Newton, GateGremlyn, Gillian, Kalquessa, Lilyleia78, Lokei, Majorsamfan, Maychorian, Neiths_arrow, Pepper, Random, Redbyrd, Samantilles, Sela21k, SG_Betty, Sjhw_tolerance, Supplyship, Suzannemarie, Thraesja, Traycer, Uniquinum, With_aspostrophe, and Wonderland.
All 27 fics are canon-compliant and gen. Shorter ficlets are reposted here in full, with links to the author's LJ for comments; longer ones are excerpted, with links to the full ficlet in the author's LJ. Spoilers for various episodes throughout all ten seasons. Rated G to PG-13.
(Jack Alpha-Bits writers, as a courtesy to everyone who has participated, please edit your archived posts to include a link here.)
A is for Astronomy (Chasing the Stars)
by traycer_
Abydos. It was out there somewhere. Jack O'Neill sat on the observation deck on his roof, staring out at the stars through his telescope, and wondered, not for the first time, what was happening on that planet.
He focused the telescope on the current celestial event, while remembering the events of his one and only trip through the Stargate. He had gone through the Gate with a determination of a tortured soul who was ready for death, only to find that there was more to life when a ragtag group of kids embraced a rebellion and faced their own death in order to save Jack's life. It had been a humbling experience, one that was repeated when Daniel Jackson put himself in harm's way to do the same thing. Jack took his life seriously after that, and with the same determination he had when he went on a suicide mission, he would do whatever necessary to defend those that protected him.
They were safe now. At least Jack hoped they were. Daniel was supposed to bury the Gate on Abydos, an act that would guarantee their survival from anyone ever finding their haven. Yet Jack couldn't help but look for the star every time he had a clear view of the night sky and wonder how "his kids" were doing now that they had found their freedom from Ra's oppression.
A car pulled up in his driveway, interrupting Jack's thoughts. Great, he thought grumpily. He didn't want to be bothered with company. He wanted to find the ever elusive star, even as he stared up at the mass in the heavens. He sighed heavily when he heard a voice call out that he had found the stairs. It seemed that he was going to have company anyway.
"Colonel O'Neill?"
"Retired," Jack replied. It was best to let the man know up front that he was barking up the wrong tree. He wasn't about to be dragged away from his sanctuary. He had things to do, memories to dwell on. But after a brief banter of dialogue, it turned out that Samuels knew the magic word to get Jack's attention.
"It's about the Stargate," Samuels said.
The Stargate. Jack nearly fell off his chair when Samuels dropped that little nugget. He had just been thinking of that piece of technology, even voicing his own regrets about not transferring to NASA when he passed on a great piece of advice to the Major. But it was the wishful thinking as he thought about going through the Stargate again to see Skaa'ra that had him sitting up and taking notice. Surely the Major wasn't suggesting… No, that was too good to be true. Still, Jack got up and followed Samuels down to the car. It wouldn't hurt to see what they wanted, he told himself, even as a tiny niggling of hope teased at him with growing intensity. God, what he wouldn't do to go back.
continued
B is for Blood
by sg_fignewton
rich and cloying, the copper taste of blood
overlays all senses
turning hearing into muffled murmurs, his sense of smell clogged by memories of
Charlie not Charlie no no no
blood coats his tongue.
pinned against merciless metal mesh
he blinks blood away and watches that crystal vial tipping, spilling
droplets hang, then dart across the room
searing breastbone, burrowing deep to flay nerve endings
and Jack wants to scream, but the blood runs into his throat, gagging and choking.
gravity at his back, dragging him down, down,
is this how Cromwell felt when he plunged into the black hole of the Gate?
Carter would tell him if he's still falling, still feeling.
Jack is falling now, falling, failing, blood seeping everywhere but into his veins,
his heart pumping, frantic to find
the blood that pools beneath that small body, and Sara is somewhere, sobbing instructions on the phone, and Charlie's gasping breaths have him scrambling to stop, stop it, stop the blood that paints his hands and arms as it drains...
another acid droplet splashes his cheek,
scalds inwards, and the blood trickles faster now.
a voice rumbles somewhere to the right, above him, and Jack doesn't want to listen
he wants this to stop, he wants to stop the blood that flows and thickens and keeps
Charlie. Charlie. Charlie.
continued
C is for Crap and Camaraderie
by uniquinum
"Oh Crap!"
Those words seem to be coming out of Jack O'Neill's mouth more and more. Especially since he had joined Stargate Command and started fight aliens for a living.
It was the first thing that came to mind when he saw Daniel's eye's light up at the sight of some ruin's that Jack just knew would entertain his team mate for hours.
When Carter bit her lip in a certain way while staring at a piece of technology that was going to kill them all in a matter of minutes "Oh Crap, we're all going to die" was the first thing to flit through his mind - and possibly come out his mouth.
When Teal'c raised his eyebrow just so and suggested a certain course of action which in actual fact was suicidal "Oh Crap we're not going to be able to change his mind" was the general consensus.
When he woke up with a broken leg and certain parts of his body were cold when they had no right to be...
When Carter gave up....
When they realised that Daniel was alive and they'd left him behind...
When Teal'c was arrested...
When Daniel went missing and returned with news of Armageddon...
When Carter eyes flashed...
When Teal'c announced he had a family...
When....
When...
When...
When there are too many times to remember.
Then there were the moments of peaceful camaraderie. Daniel and Carter doing their... thing with the brains, he just sat with Teal'c and let them go.
Sitting in the commissary eating pie.
In between the moments of crap and camaraderie there was always something going on running, shooting Jaffa, doing reports, fending off space invaders, beer, The Simpsons, being captured etcetera.
He liked those moments in between. With the crap there was a very good chance he was going to die, and with the camaraderie he always felt as though there was crap waiting around the corner.
Jack took it all in stride, he survived the crap because at the end of the day he had the moments of pure camaraderie with his team.
feedback
D is for Daniel (and Danger of course)
by gategremlyn
"Sergeant, I'm gone. I'll be in Colorado by noon so you know where to find me."
"Yes, sir," the sergeant answered.
"My cell phone is on me if you need to contact me before I get to the airport. Call me if you get any new information. After that, get hold of Colonel Carter."
"Yes, sir."
General O'Neill juggled his jacket and his briefcase. "And sergeant? Let's see if we can keep the paperwork to a minimum until I get back, okay?"
"I'll do my best, sir. Good luck."
0~0~0
"Carter?" Jack waved at his former second-in-command and he strode across the runway.
"Good to see you, sir," she said as she buried the salute and fell into step beside him. "Good flight?" She covered her ears at the roaring of the fighter jet behind her.
"No better way to travel." he shouted. Despite the seriousness of the situation he grinned. In step, they cleared the tarmac and entered the terminal. As quickly as he could, he dispensed the necessary protocols.
"Nothing yet?" he asked as he and Carter exited the building.
"No, sir. They're waiting for you at the SGC and you'll get a full briefing there."
"Are you coming with me on this trip to Oz?" He looked at the black eye and the hint of bandage he could see coming out from the cuff of her jacket, knowing the answer before he asked.
"Yes, sir, I am. Teal'c and Vala are with Bra'tac--we're trying to get a message to them but they're not due to check in for another two days. Colonel Mitchell can't go back because--"
"He's not part of the original team. Got it. Have you got a sit rep with you?"
"In the car, sir. You can read it on the way in--but you're not going to like it."
"There's a surprise, Carter."
continued
E is for Ego
by thraesja
"This is not about my ego."
Daniel spared him a glance from the dancing girls. "Of course it isn't." which Jack translated as Daniel-speak for "Of course it is."
"This is about inappropriate stereotyping."
"Uh huh."
"Downright bigotry."
"Yep."
"Just because I have a few grey hairs doesn't mean I'm..." He waved a hand in the air, searching for the best word.
"Old?" Daniel supplied.
"Distinguished," Jack corrected with a glare that went completely unnoticed by the recipient and the rest of his team.
The fact that the grey hairs in question--silver, the distinguished part of him insisted--were caused by said ungrateful team was not lost on Jack.
Sadly, the fact that he was currently wearing a pink dress couldn't be lost either.
"It's, uh, it's regal," Carter had said when he'd first put it on after a long argument with Daniel, who'd already argued inefficiently--and insufficiently--with the natives.
"It's puce."
"Sort of a light aubergine," Daniel added.
"This is why people wonder about you, Daniel." Jack looked down at the robe, ignoring Daniel's mutter about hypocrites in puce houses. "It looks like a bottle of Pepto Bismol with a shot of blue Cura?ao in it."
Carter's lip curled in disgust. "Do I even want to know how you know what that would look like, sir?"
"You do not," Teal'c said, which reminded Jack that they'd agreed never to speak of the incident again.
continued
F is for Froot Loops
by sg_wonderland
I hear Daniel try unsuccessfully to smother a laugh as we watch the tape of our initial encounter with the entity. "Dr. Jackson," I ask with studied care, "is there something you wish to share with the rest of the class?"
"No, sir, Colonel O'Neill," his voice is trembling, his eyes are wide, not with fear, but mirth.
At this point, even Teal'c coughs into his hand, the big traitor. Hammond pretends to consult his notes, Daniel gives me the big innocent eyes and Fraiser studiously ignores all of us.
Since Carter's still in the infirmary, this debriefing is mercifully short. If, that is, you don't count Daniel's snide comments about the size of my, well, size.
General Hammond dismisses us and Teal'c scampers quickly after Fraiser, murmuring something about also checking on Major Carter. Daniel, however, has appropriated the remote control and rewinds to the very spot he wants. "Jack," he waves the remote at me. "Sit here with me and let's watch this."
"You want me to sit here, calmly, while you point out that I might need to go up a uniform size?" I'm so shocked that I find myself falling into a seat.
"Unfortunately, the evidence is all right there," he hits the remote and I hear myself asking if I look fat. "You said so yourself."
"I think, therefore I am?" I ask him incredulously.
"Descartes was probably onto something, don't you think?" He probes gently.
"I think I ought to slug you right in the mouth, therefore, I will." I jump to my feet and stomp to the door, fully expecting him to follow. I glare over my shoulder at him, only to see his puzzled gaze, zeroing in on a certain part of my anatomy. "Hey, that's rude!" I whip around, planting my butt against the railing.
"Jack, Jack," he carefully puts the remote down and walks over to pat my arm sympathetically. "It's your own fault, really."
"Because?" I shove him in front of me down the steps; no way do I want him walking behind me.
"You cannot continue to eat a sugary children's cereal for breakfast and hope to retain your girlish figure." I am so gonna hit him. Just as soon as we get somewhere I can do so without getting caught on camera. Grabbing his arm, I drag him into my office and shove him in the door.
"If you suggest I need to go on a diet, I'll black both your eyes," I promise him.
continued
G is for Gratitude
by suzannemarie
The chime of the doorbell interrupted Jack's restless prowling. He took a deep breath and opened the door.
"Sara."
"Hi Jack."
"Come in. I'll get my jacket." Jack stood aside to allow Sara to step through the door. She touched his arm lightly as she walked by and wandered into the living room.
"I don't remember seeing these photos up before," she called.
"I finally put them up last year." Jack was putting on a windbreaker as he entered the room.
"They look nice," she said. She turned to Jack. "Ready?"
"I think so."
Jack followed Sara to her jeep. She got into the driver's side and lifted a bouquet of wildflowers from the passenger seat.
"Here, you can hold these," she said, handing the flowers to Jack..
"Okay."
Sara started the engine and backed out of the driveway. "I was surprised to hear from you. You're usually scarce this time of year."
"My duties put me on the road a lot," Jack said defensively.
"I wasn't judging you," Sara assured him. "I figured you like to be busy on the anniversary."
"I do," Jack admitted. "I happen to be on leave this week. I had planned to go fishing, but at the last minute I decided to stay in town."
"I'm glad you called. I could use the company."
Jack gave her a friendly grimace, then looked at the streets questioningly. "What route are you taking?" he finally asked.
"I wanted to take a little detour." Sara came to a stop at a building that Jack recognized as Charlie's school.
"What are we doing here?" he asked.
"That." Sara pointed at a tree halfway up the walkway to the brick building. "It's the tree that Charlie's class planted for him when he died."
"I'd forgotten about that," Jack said. The truth was that he had dismissed it as meaningless at the time. He had been too grief-stricken and bitter to appreciate the gesture. Now, with the passage of years, he regarded the tree with a friendlier eye.
"It was such a Charlie Brown tree when they planted it. So spindly and scrawny," Sara said affectionately. "Look at it now."
continued
H is for Hell
by lokei
Jack's new aide is late, and knows it. He's red-faced and babbling as Jack waits.
"I'm sorry, sir, General O'Neill, sir." He salutes and Jack raises an eyebrow.
"The traffic around Dupont Circle was hell, sir."
Jack looks at his round-cheeked, unlined face, the crispness of his uniform, his haircut. He thinks about Iraq, Antarctica, Oannes, Netu. He considers Charlie's headstone, Teal'c's bug bite, Carter's brain in the base computers, Daniel's radiation poisoning. He contemplates friends lost by black holes, staff blasts, snakes in the head. Being snaked himself. Hathor and Ba'al. Watching his kids go out on missions without him and waiting for them to come back in pieces.
His aide fidgets and Jack realizes he's been staring.
"Hell," he repeats flatly.
"Yes, sir," the aide is flushing, and Jack decides it's not the kid's fault that he has no idea what real hell is. If anything, it's Jack's, for saving the world too damn often.
"Coffee," Jack says, and turns back to his office, where his cellphone--the private one--is ringing.
"O'Neill."
"You've got tickets on the 5:10 Monday flight to beat the Thanksgiving crowds," Daniel's voice comes through as clearly as if he were standing right next to Jack's shoulder, where he belongs. "If you're not at the airport when I get there to pick you up, I'm going to have Teal'c challenge you to a no-holds-barred sparring session." Somewhere in the background, there's a rumble of amused Jaffa commentary and the laughter of a brainy, blond lieutenant colonel.
Jack's mouth curls up at one corner. He knows a lot about hell--turns out he knows a lot about heaven, too.
feedback
I is for Infirmary
by crazedturkey
1997
Daniel tapped on the door to the Infirmary politely. After a full minute of no answer he poked his head around.
He was greeted by the alarming tableau of Jack O'Neill reclining on a bed with a frazzled Dr. Frasier behind him.
"What do you mean, it just got stuck?" she exclaimed.
Daniel closed the door hurriedly and let them be.
1998
Armed with a cup of coffee, Sam entered Janet's office as softly as possible. Her friend was slumped tiredly across the desk, her head cradled in her arms. Sam merely placed the coffee cup on the desk and waited until the smell wafted across.
Without moving the position of her head Janet reached out and grasped the cup firmly. "Sam you're a lifesaver."
"Rough day?"
Janet slowly unfolded until she was in a sitting position. "The worst."
Sam sipped her coffee. "Worse than the Land of Light?"
"Yes."
"Hanka?"
"Yes."
"The time Jolinar died inside me?"
"Yes."
"When Daniel got addicted to the sarcophagus?"
"Yes. Yes. Yes. Sam how many times do I need to tell you this? Nothing is worse than physical day!"
Sam sighed. "I don't deny that, Janet, I really don't. I'm just trying to understand why it's this day, seeing as so much other terrifying stuff seems to happen around here."
Janet took a deep breath. "Wait ten seconds and look out that door."
"What?"
"Just wait for it."
A whistling noise began, about as annoying as whistling could get, preceding Jack O'Neill. He didn't make eye contact with either woman, just continued on his way, whistling and juggling a pair of tendon hammers.
As the whistling died away again Janet met Sam's incredulous eyes. "Oh yes. Physical day is the one day of the month when he won't leave."
continued
J is for Janet (Sense Memory)
by supplyship
Sight
He could see the intense white light even though his eyes were closed. He scrunched them shut even tighter, knowing with absolute certainty that if he opened his eyes, he would be looking up through the open sarcophagus panels at Ba'al's smirking face.
A voice called to him, but he stubbornly refused to open his eyes.
"Colonel, it's okay, you're safe. You're back at the SGC," a familiar female voice reassured.
This was a trick. It had to be. If he opened his eyes, he would see Ba'al, and he couldn't, he couldn't, not again…
"It's okay Colonel, just open your eyes and you'll see that it's okay."
But it would be much worse for him if he didn't open his eyes. Ba'al "rewarded" him when he kept his eyes open.
Basic self-preservation won out, and he slowly, slowly opened his eyes to see…Janet Frasier?
"See?" she said with a big smile. "Safe at home."
His vision blurred, but he could still make out the shape of her hand moving towards his face. "Colonel. Jack. Everything is going to be all right now."
He closed his eyes again and felt her wipe away his tears.
*
Sound
He could hear them coming for him, the telltale clank, clank, clank of Jaffa boots. His body twitched involuntarily, in perfect time to the cadence.
"No…I can't go in there again," he mumbled. "Daniel, you have to end it…"
The clanking grew louder, closer, and stopped. They had come for him.
He waited for the shouted insults, the blows to the head that left his ears ringing. So he was surprised (and more than a little confused) when the only sound to reach his ears was the kind voice of Doctor Frasier.
"Hey, Colonel, can I get you anything?"
continued
K is for Kiln
by maychorian
Jack molded the clay in his hands, slick, soft, pliable, curling past his fingers with the turning of the wheel. The sensation of wet clay was immediate and real, coating his fingers, filling his nostrils with the smell of earth, the smell of his home. The act of forming a useful vessel from shapeless matter was satisfying, the creation of something good from a mass of potential.
But there would never be a kiln for this beautiful pot, never a permanence to its making. Every day, he started anew. Every day, his work was undone.
The constant loss was terrible.
feedback
L is for Laira, leaving, loss, longing
by randomfreshink
They set out from the village--it was a hike to the 'gate now, long and dusty. But at least the Stargate was upright, and they were leaving power since the DHD was scattered to hell and gone.
Jack didn't look back. He'd said his 'fair days', after Laira had said it to him. Carter had moved ahead. Teal'c was with her, matching strides. Daniel slowed his step, almost looked like he had their six; Daniel was also being careful not to look Jack's way, and Jack wasn't sure how he felt about that.
He wasn't sure how he felt about anything.
Pissed maybe. Excited. Wanting to go and stay, and why the hell was he leaving? Except he had a duty, he had a life. And it wasn't here.
It was like no time away from his team, and like about a lifetime. He'd made a new life, or he thought he'd been doing that, but he was walking from it as if he hadn't been. He'd had no hesitation about that. So did that make him an idiot?
Then Daniel asked, "She wouldn't leave?"
Jack slanted a glance over, because, what the hell--Daniel had telepathy now? And he let out a breath because he'd forgotten just what Daniel noticed when Daniel was paying attention.
"Couldn't," he said, and didn't want to say more.
Daniel gave a nod, one of his knowing ones that said of course, and his head tipped and that left about a dozen possibilities in there.
That irritated Jack--and he smiled. God, he'd missed this. Then he frowned because he was also going to miss the fishing. He wasn't going to miss the homespun, and he glanced down at them, thought how they itched, and how he wished someone would hand him a damn gun--and how he didn't want that either. That would take him home all too fast.
The 'gate was in sight, at the end of the road. The Edorans had been left to their reunions. Jack was glad he didn't have to see that. It would have left him feeling the outsider he'd become again. But he glanced at Daniel's radio, waved one hand at it.
"She was going to toss it today--I told her to. I was done."
continued
M is for Military Cover (A Cover's Story)
by acarlgeek.
From the start, I was proud to know that my existence would be dedicated to aiding one of the servicemen or servicewomen of my country. Whether I was issued to an enlisted airman or purchased by an Air Force officer, I would be doing my small part to protect and serve. Of course, my main duty would be protecting someone from getting sun in his or her eyes, but even such a small detail can occasionally be of vital importance.
After final assembly and inspection, I was assigned to a case of basic duty covers that were shipped out to join a quartermaster's supply inventory somewhere in Colorado. At a stateside base, I expected a leisurely stay in the Military Clothing and Sales stores (after all, the war's on the other side of the planet, or so I thought), but apparently this facility had a lot of personnel on active field duty and requisitions for replacement uniforms were a fairly common occurrence.
I never realized professional military garments could get bored enough to create some of the stories I heard while waiting on the shelf. Gossip I expected; after all, the pressure and tight community associated with active military personnel almost require gossip to allow venting of frustration or expression of relief at near misses. But some of the stories that were presented as supposedly verbatim reports would warp your woof. I'd thought military garments were cut from better cloth.
continued
N is for Nem (He Was A Good Man)
by sg_betty
The Color Guard folded the flag and held it over the funeral wreath. The wreath that was merely a symbol of Daniel - they couldn't even bring him home. Jack let the formality of the military funeral wash over him. The respect. The ritual. He understood the reasons for ritual.
Every step precise.
Every motion handed down through time.
Every part a way of holding the pieces together for a while longer.
Daniel died once, when he jumped in front of that staff blast on Abydos. He'd died again on the Nox world, but Jack had died first that time, so he didn't have to know. It wasn't supposed to happen again. It was never supposed to happen again. He was supposed to make damn sure of that. He was supposed to keep his team safe.
It was so hard to keep Daniel safe. It wasn't that Daniel tried to put himself in jeopardy. It just wasn't something he thought about if someone else was in trouble. It wasn't even something he thought about if a damn concept that he thought was important was being forgotten.
"Daniel Jackson made this place happen."
Daniel just walked into things that screamed danger. He was so damned na?ve. No. Not na?ve. Never na?ve. Idealistic. Hopeful. Infuriating.
"As a member of SG-1, he was our voice. Our conscience."
Daniel had just the right combination of diffidence and arrogance to be tough to read. If you thought of Daniel as incapable, or weak, he would turn it around and nail you to the wall. With prejudice.
"He was a very courageous man."
No. Not any more. Daniel had been idealistic; he wasn't now. He had been hopeful; he would never be hopeful again. He had been strong, but he was gone. Dead. No handy sarcophagus. No miracle. Most of these people never knew the man they'd lost. Not really. They could never really know. Carter knew. Teal'c knew.
"He was a good man."
Nope. Not going to think about that. Not going to think about failing Daniel. Not here. Not now. Not going to think about the screaming and the flames and… No.
"For those of us lucky enough to have known him, he was also a friend."
Jack held out his arms for the flag, carefully folded to a crisp perfect triangle, handled with reverence. The symbol of sacrifice. The symbol of the respect they owed Daniel. The symbol of their loss. The Flag Bearer laid it in his hands. Ritual. She moved his hands to his chest, so that the flag rested next to his heart.
continued
O is for Old Age (Time Share)
by kalquessa
"Anything biting?"
The question is accompanied by footsteps on the lake's pebbly shore, and Jack reflects that if his mind hadn't been a million miles away, he would have heard someone approaching sooner. He looks up and sighs, a sound halfway between annoyance and resignation. He really could have lived the rest of his life quite happily without ever again seeing the young man coming toward him, but the universe has been at pains before now to make it clear that his luck just isn't that good.
"I thought we agreed not to keep in touch," he grouses.
"Hey, it's not like I planned this," the clone replies. "You're not the only one with a holiday weekend to kill. You're also not the only one who caught that huge bass here back in '82."
Jack glowers.
"Okay," the younger man concedes with a roll of the eyes, "maybe you are the only one who actually did that, but I remember catching that thing as well as you do. Better, probably," he adds with the ghost of a smirk.
Jack does not deign to reply, choosing instead to glower some more, though it doesn't seem to be having a the desired affect: the younger version of himself drops a cooler next to Jack's and starts unfolding an impressively battered camp chair. Jack wonders how his clone has managed to break the chair in so thoroughly given that the guy has only existed for going on four years. Teenagers must have more time to go fishing than two-star generals. Jack thinks he might be a little bit jealous.
"So is anything biting?" the clone asks again.
"No," Jack's reply is loaded with annoyance, and not because of the derth of fish.
"Well that was never really the point, anyway, was it?"
"The point," Jack says dryly, "was to have some time and space to myself for a few days."
"Hey, nobody's making you stay," the clone shrugs as he starts to unpack his rod and line. "There's a whole lot of lake, if you want to go see if the bass are biting somewhere else."
"I'm not moving because a copy of myself decided to fish here today."
"My sentiments exactly." The clone pops a can of Coke as if to punctuate the statement.
continued
P is for Peridot
by pepper_field
"This? But it's--" He wanted to say 'snot green', but was wary of the menacing way she was brandishing the roller. From the way her eyes narrowed, though, he was pretty sure she'd read his mind. He really wished she wouldn't do that.
"It's peridot," said Sara, sharply. "It's gender-neutral."
"But he's a boy," said Jack, before he could stop himself.
"That's not the point, Jack. I've explained this."
Yes, she had. She really had. Unfortunately, she'd been talking in New Mom, and he'd been listening in Old Dad. He couldn't help it: in a couple of months he - they - were going to have a son. He wanted to take the kid fishing, play catch, build him a treehouse, and line his bedroom with the most taste-free collection of sports memorabilia Jack could lay his hands on. It seemed to be completely beyond his conscious control, something he'd absorbed as what you do.
Sara, on the other hand, had Plans. She'd been reading an endless supply of books and magazines about how to bring your kid up right, and whilst he was infinitely grateful that she'd not followed through with her threat to get them on tape and play them on a loop in his car stereo, he couldn't help feeling like they were impinging on the natural order of things. Parenthood didn't have to be planned like a military campaign, surely? It was just... instinctive.
Besides, he still wasn't seeing how wall paint came into it.
Sara took a deep breath. "We're not gonna paint the whole room this color," she said, and waved at the tins of paint. "Just one wall, and the woodwork." She stared at him, and bit the inside of her lip. "You'll love it, once you get used to it." Jack squinted dubiously at her. "We'll tell him it's slime-colored," she sighed.
Jack brightened. Well, when she put it like that... "Okay, then!"
Sara rolled her eyes. But, Jack thought, in a loving way.
feedback
Q if for Quinn (Coffee Break)
by sjhw_tolerance
Jack paused just outside the door, the muted sounds of Jonas' CD player telling him that even if he wasn't in his office, he wouldn't be far away. He looked down at the tray in hands, wondering for the umpteenth time at the wisdom of his offering. It seemed like such a small--if not completely unexpected--gesture, given the usual state of his non-relationship with the newest member of his team. Taking a deep breath, Jack stepped over the threshold into Jonas' office.
Jonas wasn't immediately visible, the contents of his office obscuring most of his desk. Jack had heard tell of Jonas' office and he could see that the tales hadn't been exaggerated. He momentarily tried to envision what it would be like to live his life in an office and what passed for personal quarters at the SGC and quickly suppressed a shudder. Rationally he'd known Jonas had given up a lot when he'd defected to Earth and he wondered briefly--especially after the recent events back on his home world--if they all had made the right decision to offer the Kelownan asylum. But that was neither here nor there; right now he had another priority.
"Jonas?" he called, setting the tray down on a slightly less uncluttered corner of the desk.
"Colonel?" Jonas popped up from behind a cabinet in the far corner of the room, holding an armful of books. "What are you doing here?" he asked, looking slightly confused and then slightly flustered. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with you being here, it's just--"
Jack cut him off before he could dig himself any deeper. "I thought you might like some cake." He gestured towards the tray, which held two slices of spice cake, along with two cups of coffee.
If anything, the confused look on Jonas' face just increased. "Sure…." he replied slowly, setting the books down on top of a rather precarious looking stack of books already on the one over-crowded bookshelf in the room. "Spice cake," he said, sitting down behind the desk. "One of my favorites."
Jack took that as a positive sign and looked around for another chair, finally spotting one hidden under another pile of books. Setting them on the floor, he pulled the chair over closer to the desk and once seated, picked up the second piece of cake and a fork. "Yeah," he said, taking a bite of the moist cake, "can't beat a good piece of cake."
continued
R is for Reality Bites
by neiths_arrow
Colonel Jack O'Neill was surprised by how quickly the hallucinations started. He kept his eyes pointed forward and avoided looking at anything too closely. It was creepy enough through the corner of his eye.
He thought he had prepared himself for the experience, but when he saw Hathor standing behind Sam Carter, he slid slowly to the floor. The visual detail wasn't a surprise, but he hadn't expected his other senses to join in quite so willingly. As she advanced on him, the ribbon device attached to her hand clinked slightly, and he thought he caught a whiff of her perfume. In an effort to minimize reaction, Jack curled himself into a ball, but couldn't help the involuntary response as he tried to kick her approaching Jaffa out of the way. He managed to slow the kick down until it was an ineffectually slow movement in space. He repeated to himself, 'This isn't real. This isn't real.'
Doctor Fraiser sat helplessly on the floor in front of him as a Goa'uld symbiote slithered toward her. On the wall beyond, a giant winged bug waited patiently for a victim in which to deposit its DNA. Jack had to force himself not to react to any of it. He wanted desperately to grab the snake and choke the life from its slimy body. But for all he knew, he might be strangling a member of the SGC. He vowed that he would not react - no matter what he perceived to be real. He looked up briefly at the people sitting in the observation deck. Completely ignoring the Asgard visitors in the background, he looked into the eyes of Daniel. An understanding passed between them - from Jack an apology, and from Daniel reassurance that all would be well.
Jack understood that Carter was unaffected by the hallucinations. He would hold onto that piece of knowledge and trust that she would get their collective asses through yet another disaster. His own judgment was suspect due to the onslaught of disturbing sensations and paranoia. If only he could keep his thoughts clear. But they were clear enough to know that he would have to sit this one out. He caught a quick flash of Reetou in the observation room above his head, but he chose not to shout out a warning. The effort to hold back his reflexes took a massive amount of energy and he found himself sweating profusely. His respect for Daniel grew; his friend had held off madness for much longer than Jack thought he could do on his own - especially since Jack didn't have as far to go to get there.
continued
S is for Scientists
by a_loquita
Jack remembers stating once that he liked women, but he had some serious issues with scientists. Or it was something close to that anyway.
At first, his two scientists were annoying. It wasn't for the obvious reasons, like Daniel using words in other languages and Sam using words… in other languages. But because annoyance was easier. If he didn't focus on that emotion, then the other ones he wouldn't care to admit to might have surfaced instead, the worry that his scientists weren't sufficiently battle-tested and the fear that he couldn't protect them. Not from their loss of innocence.
Later, his two scientists became amusing. Not in the tradition of laughing at someone displaying geek tendencies. But in the way both of them would build on each other's excitement over something, interrupting, gesturing, and smiling. He'd have no idea what all that excitement was about, but it was kind of hard not to get caught up in their adrenaline rush. Amusing, because they both worked too hard and didn't sleep enough, and though he didn't understand it, he was proud in some odd and indefinable way.
Then somewhere along the line, his two scientists ended up being essential. And not just because they saved the world once again on a Tuesday. But because he has a hard time now sitting at his desk in a fancy office in DC, surrounded by every kind of personnel but scientists, and not miss them. He misses them and one of these days he thinks maybe he should get around to mentioning that. Though, he hopes they already know.
feedback
T is for Team
by lilyleia78
"Dinner time!" Jack announced gaily as he sauntered into Carter's lab.
"Yes, sir," Sam responded automatically, her attention never wavering from the softly glowing orb in front of her. Daniel was glued to her side, eyes tracking from the orb to his notebook and back again at lightening speed.
Jack waited a few seconds for some movement from his doctors. When none was forthcoming he added sternly, "Now."
"You go ahead Jack," Daniel told him with a hand waved dismissively over his shoulder. "We'll catch up."
Jack scowled ineffectually at the backs of his team members. "Now means now, kids. Dinner is family time. Afterwards, if your homework is finished, you can play with your new toy some more."
Daniel turned his head slightly to exchange a look with Sam, and Jack suppressed the urge to shift nervously as the linguist turned an irritated eye his direction. He was saved from whatever lecture Daniel had planned for him by the arrival of Teal'c. "Daniel Jackson. Major Carter. I believe it is time to partake of our evening meal."
"Of course, Teal'c," Daniel said promptly, closing his notebook and standing up with a lazy stretch. Carter was only a second behind him. Jack gaped at them as his three team members strolled casually in the direction of the mess hall.
"Hey," he cried after them. "How come you don't give him any lip?" His only answer was the flash of two insubordinate smirks as the trio rounded the corner.
feedback
U is for Undomesticated Equines
by sg_fignewton
Marty was back in his apartment, and Carter and Daniel were already on their way to Colorado Springs to give their final briefing to Hammond. Jack hadn't explained why he and Teal'c would be delaying their own return, and the others had been wise enough not to press for details.
Teal'c tugged his hat a little lower on his forehead as he climbed back into the four-wheel-drive truck that Jack had rented. They stopped at Stella's Kitchen and Bakery and ordered bear claws and crullers, then headed east on Route 87.
Teal'c carefully inspected the pastries before selecting a bear claw.
"Daniel Jackson mentioned that stakeouts should include doughnuts," he observed between bites.
"We'll find a Dunkin' Donuts on the way back," Jack promised.
It took a little more than two hours for Jack to navigate the roads to the Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Area. Teal'c said little, but he raised an eyebrow as they left the smooth pavement of the interstate and turned onto a rough road, marked only with a sign that proclaimed it "Tillets Fish-Rearing Station."
"Bad Pass Highway, they call it," Jack explained briefly. "You need four-wheel-drive to manage."
Teal'c seemed to bear the jouncing with equanamity, merely biting into another cruller.
Jack pulled the truck over near a spot where the land stretched out ahead of them, wide and open. He winced a little as he slid out of the truck, easing the kinks out of his back after the bumpy ride. He couldn't help but notice that Teal'c's movements were as fluid and graceful as ever.
A grand, enormous silence settled over the two of them, broken only by the faint ticks of the cooling engine. Jack leaned against the fence at the side of the road, and waited.
continued
U is for Urgo
by majorsamfan
"Ah, c'mon, you know ya wanna!"
"Urgo, for the last time, leave me the hell Alone!" Jack O'Neill sat back against the wall in his quarters banging his head lightly against the wall, which didn't help his nagging headache go away any more than it sent Urgo packing. Closing his eyes against the image of an obese tenor wiggling his fingers in front of his huge torso and bouncing on his feet didn't help, because Urgo was in his head.
And Urgo could stay quiet about as long as O'Neill could sit still without at least something in his hand with which to fidget. In fact, the Colonel was just wishing for his yoyo to play with. 'Damn!' he though, 'He's got me so irritated I just ended that sentence with a preposition!' And once again that whiny voice that often earned Daniel Jackson a glare and, on occasion, the threat to throw his coffee rations in the campfire, wouldn't go away.
"I just want to go outside! See your world? Meet all those interesting people wandering around in your mind…"
'I will not respond. I will not respond. I will not respond.'
Urgo got quiet again, and Jack thought maybe…just maybe Urgo had left to go bother Carter or, even better, Daniel. He peered out from under one eyelid - no Urgo in sight. He switched eyes, and, sure enough his luck held true. The pain in the mik'ta had moved across the room. As soon as their "guest" saw him (sensed him?) open his eyes, he started in again.
"Sara is very pretty; let's go see Sara!"
Jack's face contorted and grew red; he may have actually growled. At his move to get up and throttle Urgo (picturing the act in his mind in great detail), the corpulent character actually recoiled.
"We can go see someone else instead…anyone you like. Let's see, how about that boy, Char--"
Urgo would never know how lucky he was that someone knocked on the door at that moment.
continued
V is for Victory
by sela21k
He stood ramrod straight in the formation, the look on his face as frozen as the ship he stared at through the observation window. They would have rather not have had the grimness for the pictures but resigned themselves to the fact that the old general rarely smiled nowadays and never in this place.
Few knew the whole story of the frozen ship or his connection to it. Those who did had pushed it out of their minds long ago filing it away in the back of their minds as some insignificant historical fact. Every year fewer and fewer showed up at this annual commemoration of the final battle and every year he told himself it would be his last time. He would look upon that ship frozen in time with the people he loved most in the world inside it and be reminded he had failed to free them. As if he could ever forget…
But in spite of himself, he returned every year, though it ripped his heart out to do so. He came and while those around him once again celebrated Earth's greatest victory, he mourned his greatest defeat.
feedback
W is for Washington
by redbyrd_sgfic
Jack O'Neill walked through the last Pentagon checkpoint and headed for the Metro station, his steps deliberately purposeful. He'd covered the stars on his shoulders with a light jacket he really didn't need in the cool spring air. He'd expected to feel their weight at the SGC, where lives rode on his decisions every day. Here, without the faces of the people who depended on him, they were frighteningly ephemeral. The idea that he, of all people, could lose touch, become another Pentagon desk jockey- that made his palms itch for his P-90, or even the slight weight of a zat.
He found his metrocard, swiped it through the kiosk and took the down escalator. His truck was still in transit, along with the rest of his belongings- he had a couple of suitcases which had already been delivered to his new apartment. As a colonel, Jack had tended to disparage the kinds of services that generals got- as a general, it was definitely convenient. Especially since his new position carried with it security requirements that would have made it hard to find a suitable place on his own. He grimaced and scanned the station platform. Since the Trust had grabbed Daniel last year- and that idiot Conrad had taken Carter three years before that- they'd all had to be more alert on their downtime. Which in some ways was a blessing, Jack sometimes thought. After seven-plus years of adrenaline-pumping action offworld, it was awfully hard to just turn all those reflexes off. In fact, Jumper had suggested an official bodyguard which Jack had adamently refused. But no one in the station was taking the least notice of him.
The train swooshed in and Jack boarded. There were only a half dozen others in the car at this hour. He glanced at his watch. Late, but he should make it to the agent's office with a good forty minutes to spare. The girl- whatsername- Sharon, Sherrie, something like that- had said she'd be there until ten.
He found the office without a lot of trouble, rang the night bell.
The woman who answered the door was older than her light soprano had suggested and she smiled at him cheerfully. "Yes?"
"Jack O'Neill," he said. "We spoke earlier?"
"Certainly, General," she smiled. "You have ID?"
He showed her his battered military ID and the shiny new Pentagon passes. "Guess you need to be careful," he said.
She smiled again. "The military expects us to take security seriously, sir. Just let me get your keys."
As she picked up the keys and lease for his new apartment, Jack watched the way she moved- flat heels, light on her feet, something indefinable in her attitude. "You served?"
"Army, six years," she confirmed, pulling the door closed behind her. She glanced at him curiously. "Mind if I ask what your assignment is, sir? They seemed unusually concerned with security, even for a general."
Jack looked out the window. He was definitely out of practice at dealing with uncleared people, he decided. At h- in Colorado, he'd had a comfortable routine where the only people he ever saw were his neighbors, 'Nice day, lawn's looking good,' and the kid who delivered pizza, 'Here, keep the change,' and 'Thanks, mister O'Neill!' and a puzzled glance for the guy who sometimes ordered pizza at eleven in the morning and sometimes was his last customer at one AM. "Tell me about this apartment," he said, after a long pause.
The woman darted a glance sideways, clearly a bit surprised but not distressed. She readily accepted the change of subject. "Two bedrooms, as you wanted, and a balcony. Full security system. The building has keycard entry and guards onsite. Pool and fitness room on the premises. All high ranking military and government people- the building is wholly guaranteed for government use, and only tenants with security clearance are accepted."
Which probably meant a bunch of spooks, Jack knew. And it was practically guaranteed that the Trust had access. That was oddly cheering. "Sounds fine," he said.
continued
X is for Xerox
by samantilles
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Jack rapped quietly on General Hammond's door, waiting for the eventual invitation. He was still bouncing on his heels in sheer joy for finally being released from the wretched timeloop. No more Latin, no more convincing everyone they're not crazy, no more Daniel asking frustrating questions, and thank heavens for no more fruitloops, no matter how much he normally enjoyed them.
"Yes, Jack, please come in! Take a seat!" George was in his normal mood, maybe just a little happier, as far as Jack could tell. Maybe General Hammond was having a good day. Jack certainly was having an amazing day. "I am hoping you might be able to help me out with a mystery, Jack."
"Oh, and what might this mystery be?" Jack tilted his head slightly to the side, deep inside he was grinning madly.
"We found these posted in the commissary while you and SG-1 were on P4X-639, along with a betting sheet to which was the better…" George paused momentarily and coughed in modesty, "specimen." He tossed over the two black and white photocopies and Jack had to hide the wince of recognition as he took a good and close look at his and Tealc's unclothed behinds. It's a really good thing I removed that platoon tatoo a few years ago. "Naturally, I cannot condone this sort of behavior by any of the personnel under my command. We have yet to identify to whom those…" George paused again, "butts belong, but I was hoping you may have noticed in previous timeloops who the perpetrators might be."
Jack feined looking confused, a skill he had honed and perfected in the past several years. "I don't understand, sir."
George contemplated the colonel for a moment. "Major Carter informed me that since this action is most likely not a direct effect of the timeloop, it should have occurred in every loop. As you and Teal'c are the only ones who can remember past timeloops, I was hoping that you might have witnessed who put the pictures up in the commissary."
"Right!" Jack felt caught in the lie, and was thankful for the way out. "Sorry, sir, but Teal'c and I were a bit preoccupied with Daniel during each loop learning and remembering the translation of the ruins. We didn't see a thing, General." Jack gave a smug smile at the answer.
"Very well then, Colonel, I'll leave you to your mission report! You're dismissed!" George smiled at Jack while he gathered together the photocopies off the desk and shoved them in a folder. Jack smiled back in relief that he had not been caught in the act. He honestly hadn't expected the most recent trip to P4X-639 to work and relied on the expectation that his prank would be destroyed with the new timeloop, but at least now he had the very satisfactory answer to the ultimate question as he took one last glance at the betting sheet.
Jack was already half-way out the door when General Hammond stopped him. "By the way, Jack, was it you or Teal'c who broke the glass on the Xerox machine?"
Before he realized the question, Jack answered truthfully. "Teal'c, sir!"
feedback
Y is for... What?
by cleothemuse
Quarantine sucked. Because SG-1 might possibly have contracted a virus while assisting the refugees from PHR-6C8, the team had been swiftly ushered into an isolation room while Frasier and her minions drew blood, shone penlights in their eyes, and generally made the team feel like a bunch of lab rats.
Five hours into their imprisonment, Jack got tired of counting ceiling tiles, had gotten a new high score on Bejeweled, and was otherwise bored out of his gourd.
"I Spy," he began, "with my little eye, something that begins with 'G'."
"Gurney," supplied Teal'c, not looking up from his attempt at kelnorim. Without Junior, he was just as susceptible to the alleged virus as anyone else on the team.
"Nope."
"Glasses," Daniel guessed, glancing up from his laptop only briefly.
"Closer. Give up?"
"Sam hasn't had her turn yet."
The major in question looked up from her own laptop. "What? My turn at what?"
"We're playing 'I Spy'," Jack sighed, flicking out his yo-yo and catching it again. "I Spy, with my little eye, something that begins with 'G'."
"We have already suggested 'gurney' and 'glasses'," added Teal'c, giving up all pretense of meditation. Inwardly, Jack declared a victory.
"Uh..." Sam looked around the room for a moment. "Gauze?"
Jack grinned. "Wrong again!" he crowed triumphantly. "'Geeks'."
"Haha... very funny." Daniel rolled his eyes, shifted his laptop to a new position on his upraised knees, and went back to whatever it was he was doing.
"Okay, so... since none of you guessed it, I get to go again. I Spy, with my little eye, something that starts with... 'S'."
"Sheets," guessed Teal'c.
"Scrubs," chimed in Daniel, tugging on the shoulder of his scrub top.
"Carter?"
"Sphygmomanometer."
Jack stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "What?"
continued
Z is for Z
by with_apostrophe
"Jack," said Daniel as he wandered into the nearly empty commissary.
"Daniel," Jack responded from the far side of the room without looking up from his plate of apple pie with a single scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side.
Daniel walked over to Jack's table and sat down. Resting his forearms on the table, he stared across at Jack for a moment before asking, "Whatcha doing?"
Jack dug into his pie with his spoon and scooped up a little ice cream before shovelling it into his mouth. He chewed a few times before replying indistinctly, "Eating pie."
Daniel's face transformed into an expression of restrained disgust at Jack's manners, his eyes narrowing, lips thinning and nose wrinkling up.
"What?" Jack demanded.
Daniel raised his eyebrows at him.
"Was I supposed to be somewhere?"
"I don't know. But then, I'm not your Personal Assistant," Daniel responded mildly.
"I don't have a -" Jack began.
"And I'm not Walter," Daniel interrupted.
"True," Jack stated, pointing his spoon at Daniel before using it for the purpose for which it was designed. Daniel glared at Jack until he finished the mouthful.
Jack sighed mentally and gave in.
"I was thinking," he admitted.
Daniel's eyebrows reached for his hairline. "Really? Okay, what were you thinking about?"
"Z," Jack responded with a flourish of his hands.
"Z?"
"Yes, Daniel. Z."
"As in 'catching Zs'?"
"No, that's something I prefer to do instead of think about. Z as in 'the letter at the opposite end of the alphabet from A.'"
"Why?"
"No, Z."
Daniel rolled his eyes. "Why are you thinking about the letter Z?"
"Why not?"
continued
icon by samantilles
My thanks to the 26 fantastic authors who helped make Jack Alpha-Bits a reality: A_loquita, Acarlgeek, Cleo the Muse, Fig Newton, GateGremlyn, Gillian, Kalquessa, Lilyleia78, Lokei, Majorsamfan, Maychorian, Neiths_arrow, Pepper, Random, Redbyrd, Samantilles, Sela21k, SG_Betty, Sjhw_tolerance, Supplyship, Suzannemarie, Thraesja, Traycer, Uniquinum, With_aspostrophe, and Wonderland.
All 27 fics are canon-compliant and gen. Shorter ficlets are reposted here in full, with links to the author's LJ for comments; longer ones are excerpted, with links to the full ficlet in the author's LJ. Spoilers for various episodes throughout all ten seasons. Rated G to PG-13.
(Jack Alpha-Bits writers, as a courtesy to everyone who has participated, please edit your archived posts to include a link here.)
A is for Astronomy (Chasing the Stars)
by traycer_
Abydos. It was out there somewhere. Jack O'Neill sat on the observation deck on his roof, staring out at the stars through his telescope, and wondered, not for the first time, what was happening on that planet.
He focused the telescope on the current celestial event, while remembering the events of his one and only trip through the Stargate. He had gone through the Gate with a determination of a tortured soul who was ready for death, only to find that there was more to life when a ragtag group of kids embraced a rebellion and faced their own death in order to save Jack's life. It had been a humbling experience, one that was repeated when Daniel Jackson put himself in harm's way to do the same thing. Jack took his life seriously after that, and with the same determination he had when he went on a suicide mission, he would do whatever necessary to defend those that protected him.
They were safe now. At least Jack hoped they were. Daniel was supposed to bury the Gate on Abydos, an act that would guarantee their survival from anyone ever finding their haven. Yet Jack couldn't help but look for the star every time he had a clear view of the night sky and wonder how "his kids" were doing now that they had found their freedom from Ra's oppression.
A car pulled up in his driveway, interrupting Jack's thoughts. Great, he thought grumpily. He didn't want to be bothered with company. He wanted to find the ever elusive star, even as he stared up at the mass in the heavens. He sighed heavily when he heard a voice call out that he had found the stairs. It seemed that he was going to have company anyway.
"Colonel O'Neill?"
"Retired," Jack replied. It was best to let the man know up front that he was barking up the wrong tree. He wasn't about to be dragged away from his sanctuary. He had things to do, memories to dwell on. But after a brief banter of dialogue, it turned out that Samuels knew the magic word to get Jack's attention.
"It's about the Stargate," Samuels said.
The Stargate. Jack nearly fell off his chair when Samuels dropped that little nugget. He had just been thinking of that piece of technology, even voicing his own regrets about not transferring to NASA when he passed on a great piece of advice to the Major. But it was the wishful thinking as he thought about going through the Stargate again to see Skaa'ra that had him sitting up and taking notice. Surely the Major wasn't suggesting… No, that was too good to be true. Still, Jack got up and followed Samuels down to the car. It wouldn't hurt to see what they wanted, he told himself, even as a tiny niggling of hope teased at him with growing intensity. God, what he wouldn't do to go back.
continued
B is for Blood
by sg_fignewton
rich and cloying, the copper taste of blood
overlays all senses
turning hearing into muffled murmurs, his sense of smell clogged by memories of
Charlie not Charlie no no no
blood coats his tongue.
pinned against merciless metal mesh
he blinks blood away and watches that crystal vial tipping, spilling
droplets hang, then dart across the room
searing breastbone, burrowing deep to flay nerve endings
and Jack wants to scream, but the blood runs into his throat, gagging and choking.
gravity at his back, dragging him down, down,
is this how Cromwell felt when he plunged into the black hole of the Gate?
Carter would tell him if he's still falling, still feeling.
Jack is falling now, falling, failing, blood seeping everywhere but into his veins,
his heart pumping, frantic to find
the blood that pools beneath that small body, and Sara is somewhere, sobbing instructions on the phone, and Charlie's gasping breaths have him scrambling to stop, stop it, stop the blood that paints his hands and arms as it drains...
another acid droplet splashes his cheek,
scalds inwards, and the blood trickles faster now.
a voice rumbles somewhere to the right, above him, and Jack doesn't want to listen
he wants this to stop, he wants to stop the blood that flows and thickens and keeps
Charlie. Charlie. Charlie.
continued
C is for Crap and Camaraderie
by uniquinum
"Oh Crap!"
Those words seem to be coming out of Jack O'Neill's mouth more and more. Especially since he had joined Stargate Command and started fight aliens for a living.
It was the first thing that came to mind when he saw Daniel's eye's light up at the sight of some ruin's that Jack just knew would entertain his team mate for hours.
When Carter bit her lip in a certain way while staring at a piece of technology that was going to kill them all in a matter of minutes "Oh Crap, we're all going to die" was the first thing to flit through his mind - and possibly come out his mouth.
When Teal'c raised his eyebrow just so and suggested a certain course of action which in actual fact was suicidal "Oh Crap we're not going to be able to change his mind" was the general consensus.
When he woke up with a broken leg and certain parts of his body were cold when they had no right to be...
When Carter gave up....
When they realised that Daniel was alive and they'd left him behind...
When Teal'c was arrested...
When Daniel went missing and returned with news of Armageddon...
When Carter eyes flashed...
When Teal'c announced he had a family...
When....
When...
When...
When there are too many times to remember.
Then there were the moments of peaceful camaraderie. Daniel and Carter doing their... thing with the brains, he just sat with Teal'c and let them go.
Sitting in the commissary eating pie.
In between the moments of crap and camaraderie there was always something going on running, shooting Jaffa, doing reports, fending off space invaders, beer, The Simpsons, being captured etcetera.
He liked those moments in between. With the crap there was a very good chance he was going to die, and with the camaraderie he always felt as though there was crap waiting around the corner.
Jack took it all in stride, he survived the crap because at the end of the day he had the moments of pure camaraderie with his team.
feedback
D is for Daniel (and Danger of course)
by gategremlyn
"Sergeant, I'm gone. I'll be in Colorado by noon so you know where to find me."
"Yes, sir," the sergeant answered.
"My cell phone is on me if you need to contact me before I get to the airport. Call me if you get any new information. After that, get hold of Colonel Carter."
"Yes, sir."
General O'Neill juggled his jacket and his briefcase. "And sergeant? Let's see if we can keep the paperwork to a minimum until I get back, okay?"
"I'll do my best, sir. Good luck."
0~0~0
"Carter?" Jack waved at his former second-in-command and he strode across the runway.
"Good to see you, sir," she said as she buried the salute and fell into step beside him. "Good flight?" She covered her ears at the roaring of the fighter jet behind her.
"No better way to travel." he shouted. Despite the seriousness of the situation he grinned. In step, they cleared the tarmac and entered the terminal. As quickly as he could, he dispensed the necessary protocols.
"Nothing yet?" he asked as he and Carter exited the building.
"No, sir. They're waiting for you at the SGC and you'll get a full briefing there."
"Are you coming with me on this trip to Oz?" He looked at the black eye and the hint of bandage he could see coming out from the cuff of her jacket, knowing the answer before he asked.
"Yes, sir, I am. Teal'c and Vala are with Bra'tac--we're trying to get a message to them but they're not due to check in for another two days. Colonel Mitchell can't go back because--"
"He's not part of the original team. Got it. Have you got a sit rep with you?"
"In the car, sir. You can read it on the way in--but you're not going to like it."
"There's a surprise, Carter."
continued
E is for Ego
by thraesja
"This is not about my ego."
Daniel spared him a glance from the dancing girls. "Of course it isn't." which Jack translated as Daniel-speak for "Of course it is."
"This is about inappropriate stereotyping."
"Uh huh."
"Downright bigotry."
"Yep."
"Just because I have a few grey hairs doesn't mean I'm..." He waved a hand in the air, searching for the best word.
"Old?" Daniel supplied.
"Distinguished," Jack corrected with a glare that went completely unnoticed by the recipient and the rest of his team.
The fact that the grey hairs in question--silver, the distinguished part of him insisted--were caused by said ungrateful team was not lost on Jack.
Sadly, the fact that he was currently wearing a pink dress couldn't be lost either.
"It's, uh, it's regal," Carter had said when he'd first put it on after a long argument with Daniel, who'd already argued inefficiently--and insufficiently--with the natives.
"It's puce."
"Sort of a light aubergine," Daniel added.
"This is why people wonder about you, Daniel." Jack looked down at the robe, ignoring Daniel's mutter about hypocrites in puce houses. "It looks like a bottle of Pepto Bismol with a shot of blue Cura?ao in it."
Carter's lip curled in disgust. "Do I even want to know how you know what that would look like, sir?"
"You do not," Teal'c said, which reminded Jack that they'd agreed never to speak of the incident again.
continued
F is for Froot Loops
by sg_wonderland
I hear Daniel try unsuccessfully to smother a laugh as we watch the tape of our initial encounter with the entity. "Dr. Jackson," I ask with studied care, "is there something you wish to share with the rest of the class?"
"No, sir, Colonel O'Neill," his voice is trembling, his eyes are wide, not with fear, but mirth.
At this point, even Teal'c coughs into his hand, the big traitor. Hammond pretends to consult his notes, Daniel gives me the big innocent eyes and Fraiser studiously ignores all of us.
Since Carter's still in the infirmary, this debriefing is mercifully short. If, that is, you don't count Daniel's snide comments about the size of my, well, size.
General Hammond dismisses us and Teal'c scampers quickly after Fraiser, murmuring something about also checking on Major Carter. Daniel, however, has appropriated the remote control and rewinds to the very spot he wants. "Jack," he waves the remote at me. "Sit here with me and let's watch this."
"You want me to sit here, calmly, while you point out that I might need to go up a uniform size?" I'm so shocked that I find myself falling into a seat.
"Unfortunately, the evidence is all right there," he hits the remote and I hear myself asking if I look fat. "You said so yourself."
"I think, therefore I am?" I ask him incredulously.
"Descartes was probably onto something, don't you think?" He probes gently.
"I think I ought to slug you right in the mouth, therefore, I will." I jump to my feet and stomp to the door, fully expecting him to follow. I glare over my shoulder at him, only to see his puzzled gaze, zeroing in on a certain part of my anatomy. "Hey, that's rude!" I whip around, planting my butt against the railing.
"Jack, Jack," he carefully puts the remote down and walks over to pat my arm sympathetically. "It's your own fault, really."
"Because?" I shove him in front of me down the steps; no way do I want him walking behind me.
"You cannot continue to eat a sugary children's cereal for breakfast and hope to retain your girlish figure." I am so gonna hit him. Just as soon as we get somewhere I can do so without getting caught on camera. Grabbing his arm, I drag him into my office and shove him in the door.
"If you suggest I need to go on a diet, I'll black both your eyes," I promise him.
continued
G is for Gratitude
by suzannemarie
The chime of the doorbell interrupted Jack's restless prowling. He took a deep breath and opened the door.
"Sara."
"Hi Jack."
"Come in. I'll get my jacket." Jack stood aside to allow Sara to step through the door. She touched his arm lightly as she walked by and wandered into the living room.
"I don't remember seeing these photos up before," she called.
"I finally put them up last year." Jack was putting on a windbreaker as he entered the room.
"They look nice," she said. She turned to Jack. "Ready?"
"I think so."
Jack followed Sara to her jeep. She got into the driver's side and lifted a bouquet of wildflowers from the passenger seat.
"Here, you can hold these," she said, handing the flowers to Jack..
"Okay."
Sara started the engine and backed out of the driveway. "I was surprised to hear from you. You're usually scarce this time of year."
"My duties put me on the road a lot," Jack said defensively.
"I wasn't judging you," Sara assured him. "I figured you like to be busy on the anniversary."
"I do," Jack admitted. "I happen to be on leave this week. I had planned to go fishing, but at the last minute I decided to stay in town."
"I'm glad you called. I could use the company."
Jack gave her a friendly grimace, then looked at the streets questioningly. "What route are you taking?" he finally asked.
"I wanted to take a little detour." Sara came to a stop at a building that Jack recognized as Charlie's school.
"What are we doing here?" he asked.
"That." Sara pointed at a tree halfway up the walkway to the brick building. "It's the tree that Charlie's class planted for him when he died."
"I'd forgotten about that," Jack said. The truth was that he had dismissed it as meaningless at the time. He had been too grief-stricken and bitter to appreciate the gesture. Now, with the passage of years, he regarded the tree with a friendlier eye.
"It was such a Charlie Brown tree when they planted it. So spindly and scrawny," Sara said affectionately. "Look at it now."
continued
H is for Hell
by lokei
Jack's new aide is late, and knows it. He's red-faced and babbling as Jack waits.
"I'm sorry, sir, General O'Neill, sir." He salutes and Jack raises an eyebrow.
"The traffic around Dupont Circle was hell, sir."
Jack looks at his round-cheeked, unlined face, the crispness of his uniform, his haircut. He thinks about Iraq, Antarctica, Oannes, Netu. He considers Charlie's headstone, Teal'c's bug bite, Carter's brain in the base computers, Daniel's radiation poisoning. He contemplates friends lost by black holes, staff blasts, snakes in the head. Being snaked himself. Hathor and Ba'al. Watching his kids go out on missions without him and waiting for them to come back in pieces.
His aide fidgets and Jack realizes he's been staring.
"Hell," he repeats flatly.
"Yes, sir," the aide is flushing, and Jack decides it's not the kid's fault that he has no idea what real hell is. If anything, it's Jack's, for saving the world too damn often.
"Coffee," Jack says, and turns back to his office, where his cellphone--the private one--is ringing.
"O'Neill."
"You've got tickets on the 5:10 Monday flight to beat the Thanksgiving crowds," Daniel's voice comes through as clearly as if he were standing right next to Jack's shoulder, where he belongs. "If you're not at the airport when I get there to pick you up, I'm going to have Teal'c challenge you to a no-holds-barred sparring session." Somewhere in the background, there's a rumble of amused Jaffa commentary and the laughter of a brainy, blond lieutenant colonel.
Jack's mouth curls up at one corner. He knows a lot about hell--turns out he knows a lot about heaven, too.
feedback
I is for Infirmary
by crazedturkey
1997
Daniel tapped on the door to the Infirmary politely. After a full minute of no answer he poked his head around.
He was greeted by the alarming tableau of Jack O'Neill reclining on a bed with a frazzled Dr. Frasier behind him.
"What do you mean, it just got stuck?" she exclaimed.
Daniel closed the door hurriedly and let them be.
1998
Armed with a cup of coffee, Sam entered Janet's office as softly as possible. Her friend was slumped tiredly across the desk, her head cradled in her arms. Sam merely placed the coffee cup on the desk and waited until the smell wafted across.
Without moving the position of her head Janet reached out and grasped the cup firmly. "Sam you're a lifesaver."
"Rough day?"
Janet slowly unfolded until she was in a sitting position. "The worst."
Sam sipped her coffee. "Worse than the Land of Light?"
"Yes."
"Hanka?"
"Yes."
"The time Jolinar died inside me?"
"Yes."
"When Daniel got addicted to the sarcophagus?"
"Yes. Yes. Yes. Sam how many times do I need to tell you this? Nothing is worse than physical day!"
Sam sighed. "I don't deny that, Janet, I really don't. I'm just trying to understand why it's this day, seeing as so much other terrifying stuff seems to happen around here."
Janet took a deep breath. "Wait ten seconds and look out that door."
"What?"
"Just wait for it."
A whistling noise began, about as annoying as whistling could get, preceding Jack O'Neill. He didn't make eye contact with either woman, just continued on his way, whistling and juggling a pair of tendon hammers.
As the whistling died away again Janet met Sam's incredulous eyes. "Oh yes. Physical day is the one day of the month when he won't leave."
continued
J is for Janet (Sense Memory)
by supplyship
Sight
He could see the intense white light even though his eyes were closed. He scrunched them shut even tighter, knowing with absolute certainty that if he opened his eyes, he would be looking up through the open sarcophagus panels at Ba'al's smirking face.
A voice called to him, but he stubbornly refused to open his eyes.
"Colonel, it's okay, you're safe. You're back at the SGC," a familiar female voice reassured.
This was a trick. It had to be. If he opened his eyes, he would see Ba'al, and he couldn't, he couldn't, not again…
"It's okay Colonel, just open your eyes and you'll see that it's okay."
But it would be much worse for him if he didn't open his eyes. Ba'al "rewarded" him when he kept his eyes open.
Basic self-preservation won out, and he slowly, slowly opened his eyes to see…Janet Frasier?
"See?" she said with a big smile. "Safe at home."
His vision blurred, but he could still make out the shape of her hand moving towards his face. "Colonel. Jack. Everything is going to be all right now."
He closed his eyes again and felt her wipe away his tears.
*
Sound
He could hear them coming for him, the telltale clank, clank, clank of Jaffa boots. His body twitched involuntarily, in perfect time to the cadence.
"No…I can't go in there again," he mumbled. "Daniel, you have to end it…"
The clanking grew louder, closer, and stopped. They had come for him.
He waited for the shouted insults, the blows to the head that left his ears ringing. So he was surprised (and more than a little confused) when the only sound to reach his ears was the kind voice of Doctor Frasier.
"Hey, Colonel, can I get you anything?"
continued
K is for Kiln
by maychorian
Jack molded the clay in his hands, slick, soft, pliable, curling past his fingers with the turning of the wheel. The sensation of wet clay was immediate and real, coating his fingers, filling his nostrils with the smell of earth, the smell of his home. The act of forming a useful vessel from shapeless matter was satisfying, the creation of something good from a mass of potential.
But there would never be a kiln for this beautiful pot, never a permanence to its making. Every day, he started anew. Every day, his work was undone.
The constant loss was terrible.
feedback
L is for Laira, leaving, loss, longing
by randomfreshink
They set out from the village--it was a hike to the 'gate now, long and dusty. But at least the Stargate was upright, and they were leaving power since the DHD was scattered to hell and gone.
Jack didn't look back. He'd said his 'fair days', after Laira had said it to him. Carter had moved ahead. Teal'c was with her, matching strides. Daniel slowed his step, almost looked like he had their six; Daniel was also being careful not to look Jack's way, and Jack wasn't sure how he felt about that.
He wasn't sure how he felt about anything.
Pissed maybe. Excited. Wanting to go and stay, and why the hell was he leaving? Except he had a duty, he had a life. And it wasn't here.
It was like no time away from his team, and like about a lifetime. He'd made a new life, or he thought he'd been doing that, but he was walking from it as if he hadn't been. He'd had no hesitation about that. So did that make him an idiot?
Then Daniel asked, "She wouldn't leave?"
Jack slanted a glance over, because, what the hell--Daniel had telepathy now? And he let out a breath because he'd forgotten just what Daniel noticed when Daniel was paying attention.
"Couldn't," he said, and didn't want to say more.
Daniel gave a nod, one of his knowing ones that said of course, and his head tipped and that left about a dozen possibilities in there.
That irritated Jack--and he smiled. God, he'd missed this. Then he frowned because he was also going to miss the fishing. He wasn't going to miss the homespun, and he glanced down at them, thought how they itched, and how he wished someone would hand him a damn gun--and how he didn't want that either. That would take him home all too fast.
The 'gate was in sight, at the end of the road. The Edorans had been left to their reunions. Jack was glad he didn't have to see that. It would have left him feeling the outsider he'd become again. But he glanced at Daniel's radio, waved one hand at it.
"She was going to toss it today--I told her to. I was done."
continued
M is for Military Cover (A Cover's Story)
by acarlgeek.
From the start, I was proud to know that my existence would be dedicated to aiding one of the servicemen or servicewomen of my country. Whether I was issued to an enlisted airman or purchased by an Air Force officer, I would be doing my small part to protect and serve. Of course, my main duty would be protecting someone from getting sun in his or her eyes, but even such a small detail can occasionally be of vital importance.
After final assembly and inspection, I was assigned to a case of basic duty covers that were shipped out to join a quartermaster's supply inventory somewhere in Colorado. At a stateside base, I expected a leisurely stay in the Military Clothing and Sales stores (after all, the war's on the other side of the planet, or so I thought), but apparently this facility had a lot of personnel on active field duty and requisitions for replacement uniforms were a fairly common occurrence.
I never realized professional military garments could get bored enough to create some of the stories I heard while waiting on the shelf. Gossip I expected; after all, the pressure and tight community associated with active military personnel almost require gossip to allow venting of frustration or expression of relief at near misses. But some of the stories that were presented as supposedly verbatim reports would warp your woof. I'd thought military garments were cut from better cloth.
continued
N is for Nem (He Was A Good Man)
by sg_betty
The Color Guard folded the flag and held it over the funeral wreath. The wreath that was merely a symbol of Daniel - they couldn't even bring him home. Jack let the formality of the military funeral wash over him. The respect. The ritual. He understood the reasons for ritual.
Every step precise.
Every motion handed down through time.
Every part a way of holding the pieces together for a while longer.
Daniel died once, when he jumped in front of that staff blast on Abydos. He'd died again on the Nox world, but Jack had died first that time, so he didn't have to know. It wasn't supposed to happen again. It was never supposed to happen again. He was supposed to make damn sure of that. He was supposed to keep his team safe.
It was so hard to keep Daniel safe. It wasn't that Daniel tried to put himself in jeopardy. It just wasn't something he thought about if someone else was in trouble. It wasn't even something he thought about if a damn concept that he thought was important was being forgotten.
"Daniel Jackson made this place happen."
Daniel just walked into things that screamed danger. He was so damned na?ve. No. Not na?ve. Never na?ve. Idealistic. Hopeful. Infuriating.
"As a member of SG-1, he was our voice. Our conscience."
Daniel had just the right combination of diffidence and arrogance to be tough to read. If you thought of Daniel as incapable, or weak, he would turn it around and nail you to the wall. With prejudice.
"He was a very courageous man."
No. Not any more. Daniel had been idealistic; he wasn't now. He had been hopeful; he would never be hopeful again. He had been strong, but he was gone. Dead. No handy sarcophagus. No miracle. Most of these people never knew the man they'd lost. Not really. They could never really know. Carter knew. Teal'c knew.
"He was a good man."
Nope. Not going to think about that. Not going to think about failing Daniel. Not here. Not now. Not going to think about the screaming and the flames and… No.
"For those of us lucky enough to have known him, he was also a friend."
Jack held out his arms for the flag, carefully folded to a crisp perfect triangle, handled with reverence. The symbol of sacrifice. The symbol of the respect they owed Daniel. The symbol of their loss. The Flag Bearer laid it in his hands. Ritual. She moved his hands to his chest, so that the flag rested next to his heart.
continued
O is for Old Age (Time Share)
by kalquessa
"Anything biting?"
The question is accompanied by footsteps on the lake's pebbly shore, and Jack reflects that if his mind hadn't been a million miles away, he would have heard someone approaching sooner. He looks up and sighs, a sound halfway between annoyance and resignation. He really could have lived the rest of his life quite happily without ever again seeing the young man coming toward him, but the universe has been at pains before now to make it clear that his luck just isn't that good.
"I thought we agreed not to keep in touch," he grouses.
"Hey, it's not like I planned this," the clone replies. "You're not the only one with a holiday weekend to kill. You're also not the only one who caught that huge bass here back in '82."
Jack glowers.
"Okay," the younger man concedes with a roll of the eyes, "maybe you are the only one who actually did that, but I remember catching that thing as well as you do. Better, probably," he adds with the ghost of a smirk.
Jack does not deign to reply, choosing instead to glower some more, though it doesn't seem to be having a the desired affect: the younger version of himself drops a cooler next to Jack's and starts unfolding an impressively battered camp chair. Jack wonders how his clone has managed to break the chair in so thoroughly given that the guy has only existed for going on four years. Teenagers must have more time to go fishing than two-star generals. Jack thinks he might be a little bit jealous.
"So is anything biting?" the clone asks again.
"No," Jack's reply is loaded with annoyance, and not because of the derth of fish.
"Well that was never really the point, anyway, was it?"
"The point," Jack says dryly, "was to have some time and space to myself for a few days."
"Hey, nobody's making you stay," the clone shrugs as he starts to unpack his rod and line. "There's a whole lot of lake, if you want to go see if the bass are biting somewhere else."
"I'm not moving because a copy of myself decided to fish here today."
"My sentiments exactly." The clone pops a can of Coke as if to punctuate the statement.
continued
P is for Peridot
by pepper_field
"This? But it's--" He wanted to say 'snot green', but was wary of the menacing way she was brandishing the roller. From the way her eyes narrowed, though, he was pretty sure she'd read his mind. He really wished she wouldn't do that.
"It's peridot," said Sara, sharply. "It's gender-neutral."
"But he's a boy," said Jack, before he could stop himself.
"That's not the point, Jack. I've explained this."
Yes, she had. She really had. Unfortunately, she'd been talking in New Mom, and he'd been listening in Old Dad. He couldn't help it: in a couple of months he - they - were going to have a son. He wanted to take the kid fishing, play catch, build him a treehouse, and line his bedroom with the most taste-free collection of sports memorabilia Jack could lay his hands on. It seemed to be completely beyond his conscious control, something he'd absorbed as what you do.
Sara, on the other hand, had Plans. She'd been reading an endless supply of books and magazines about how to bring your kid up right, and whilst he was infinitely grateful that she'd not followed through with her threat to get them on tape and play them on a loop in his car stereo, he couldn't help feeling like they were impinging on the natural order of things. Parenthood didn't have to be planned like a military campaign, surely? It was just... instinctive.
Besides, he still wasn't seeing how wall paint came into it.
Sara took a deep breath. "We're not gonna paint the whole room this color," she said, and waved at the tins of paint. "Just one wall, and the woodwork." She stared at him, and bit the inside of her lip. "You'll love it, once you get used to it." Jack squinted dubiously at her. "We'll tell him it's slime-colored," she sighed.
Jack brightened. Well, when she put it like that... "Okay, then!"
Sara rolled her eyes. But, Jack thought, in a loving way.
feedback
Q if for Quinn (Coffee Break)
by sjhw_tolerance
Jack paused just outside the door, the muted sounds of Jonas' CD player telling him that even if he wasn't in his office, he wouldn't be far away. He looked down at the tray in hands, wondering for the umpteenth time at the wisdom of his offering. It seemed like such a small--if not completely unexpected--gesture, given the usual state of his non-relationship with the newest member of his team. Taking a deep breath, Jack stepped over the threshold into Jonas' office.
Jonas wasn't immediately visible, the contents of his office obscuring most of his desk. Jack had heard tell of Jonas' office and he could see that the tales hadn't been exaggerated. He momentarily tried to envision what it would be like to live his life in an office and what passed for personal quarters at the SGC and quickly suppressed a shudder. Rationally he'd known Jonas had given up a lot when he'd defected to Earth and he wondered briefly--especially after the recent events back on his home world--if they all had made the right decision to offer the Kelownan asylum. But that was neither here nor there; right now he had another priority.
"Jonas?" he called, setting the tray down on a slightly less uncluttered corner of the desk.
"Colonel?" Jonas popped up from behind a cabinet in the far corner of the room, holding an armful of books. "What are you doing here?" he asked, looking slightly confused and then slightly flustered. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with you being here, it's just--"
Jack cut him off before he could dig himself any deeper. "I thought you might like some cake." He gestured towards the tray, which held two slices of spice cake, along with two cups of coffee.
If anything, the confused look on Jonas' face just increased. "Sure…." he replied slowly, setting the books down on top of a rather precarious looking stack of books already on the one over-crowded bookshelf in the room. "Spice cake," he said, sitting down behind the desk. "One of my favorites."
Jack took that as a positive sign and looked around for another chair, finally spotting one hidden under another pile of books. Setting them on the floor, he pulled the chair over closer to the desk and once seated, picked up the second piece of cake and a fork. "Yeah," he said, taking a bite of the moist cake, "can't beat a good piece of cake."
continued
R is for Reality Bites
by neiths_arrow
Colonel Jack O'Neill was surprised by how quickly the hallucinations started. He kept his eyes pointed forward and avoided looking at anything too closely. It was creepy enough through the corner of his eye.
He thought he had prepared himself for the experience, but when he saw Hathor standing behind Sam Carter, he slid slowly to the floor. The visual detail wasn't a surprise, but he hadn't expected his other senses to join in quite so willingly. As she advanced on him, the ribbon device attached to her hand clinked slightly, and he thought he caught a whiff of her perfume. In an effort to minimize reaction, Jack curled himself into a ball, but couldn't help the involuntary response as he tried to kick her approaching Jaffa out of the way. He managed to slow the kick down until it was an ineffectually slow movement in space. He repeated to himself, 'This isn't real. This isn't real.'
Doctor Fraiser sat helplessly on the floor in front of him as a Goa'uld symbiote slithered toward her. On the wall beyond, a giant winged bug waited patiently for a victim in which to deposit its DNA. Jack had to force himself not to react to any of it. He wanted desperately to grab the snake and choke the life from its slimy body. But for all he knew, he might be strangling a member of the SGC. He vowed that he would not react - no matter what he perceived to be real. He looked up briefly at the people sitting in the observation deck. Completely ignoring the Asgard visitors in the background, he looked into the eyes of Daniel. An understanding passed between them - from Jack an apology, and from Daniel reassurance that all would be well.
Jack understood that Carter was unaffected by the hallucinations. He would hold onto that piece of knowledge and trust that she would get their collective asses through yet another disaster. His own judgment was suspect due to the onslaught of disturbing sensations and paranoia. If only he could keep his thoughts clear. But they were clear enough to know that he would have to sit this one out. He caught a quick flash of Reetou in the observation room above his head, but he chose not to shout out a warning. The effort to hold back his reflexes took a massive amount of energy and he found himself sweating profusely. His respect for Daniel grew; his friend had held off madness for much longer than Jack thought he could do on his own - especially since Jack didn't have as far to go to get there.
continued
S is for Scientists
by a_loquita
Jack remembers stating once that he liked women, but he had some serious issues with scientists. Or it was something close to that anyway.
At first, his two scientists were annoying. It wasn't for the obvious reasons, like Daniel using words in other languages and Sam using words… in other languages. But because annoyance was easier. If he didn't focus on that emotion, then the other ones he wouldn't care to admit to might have surfaced instead, the worry that his scientists weren't sufficiently battle-tested and the fear that he couldn't protect them. Not from their loss of innocence.
Later, his two scientists became amusing. Not in the tradition of laughing at someone displaying geek tendencies. But in the way both of them would build on each other's excitement over something, interrupting, gesturing, and smiling. He'd have no idea what all that excitement was about, but it was kind of hard not to get caught up in their adrenaline rush. Amusing, because they both worked too hard and didn't sleep enough, and though he didn't understand it, he was proud in some odd and indefinable way.
Then somewhere along the line, his two scientists ended up being essential. And not just because they saved the world once again on a Tuesday. But because he has a hard time now sitting at his desk in a fancy office in DC, surrounded by every kind of personnel but scientists, and not miss them. He misses them and one of these days he thinks maybe he should get around to mentioning that. Though, he hopes they already know.
feedback
T is for Team
by lilyleia78
"Dinner time!" Jack announced gaily as he sauntered into Carter's lab.
"Yes, sir," Sam responded automatically, her attention never wavering from the softly glowing orb in front of her. Daniel was glued to her side, eyes tracking from the orb to his notebook and back again at lightening speed.
Jack waited a few seconds for some movement from his doctors. When none was forthcoming he added sternly, "Now."
"You go ahead Jack," Daniel told him with a hand waved dismissively over his shoulder. "We'll catch up."
Jack scowled ineffectually at the backs of his team members. "Now means now, kids. Dinner is family time. Afterwards, if your homework is finished, you can play with your new toy some more."
Daniel turned his head slightly to exchange a look with Sam, and Jack suppressed the urge to shift nervously as the linguist turned an irritated eye his direction. He was saved from whatever lecture Daniel had planned for him by the arrival of Teal'c. "Daniel Jackson. Major Carter. I believe it is time to partake of our evening meal."
"Of course, Teal'c," Daniel said promptly, closing his notebook and standing up with a lazy stretch. Carter was only a second behind him. Jack gaped at them as his three team members strolled casually in the direction of the mess hall.
"Hey," he cried after them. "How come you don't give him any lip?" His only answer was the flash of two insubordinate smirks as the trio rounded the corner.
feedback
U is for Undomesticated Equines
by sg_fignewton
Marty was back in his apartment, and Carter and Daniel were already on their way to Colorado Springs to give their final briefing to Hammond. Jack hadn't explained why he and Teal'c would be delaying their own return, and the others had been wise enough not to press for details.
Teal'c tugged his hat a little lower on his forehead as he climbed back into the four-wheel-drive truck that Jack had rented. They stopped at Stella's Kitchen and Bakery and ordered bear claws and crullers, then headed east on Route 87.
Teal'c carefully inspected the pastries before selecting a bear claw.
"Daniel Jackson mentioned that stakeouts should include doughnuts," he observed between bites.
"We'll find a Dunkin' Donuts on the way back," Jack promised.
It took a little more than two hours for Jack to navigate the roads to the Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Area. Teal'c said little, but he raised an eyebrow as they left the smooth pavement of the interstate and turned onto a rough road, marked only with a sign that proclaimed it "Tillets Fish-Rearing Station."
"Bad Pass Highway, they call it," Jack explained briefly. "You need four-wheel-drive to manage."
Teal'c seemed to bear the jouncing with equanamity, merely biting into another cruller.
Jack pulled the truck over near a spot where the land stretched out ahead of them, wide and open. He winced a little as he slid out of the truck, easing the kinks out of his back after the bumpy ride. He couldn't help but notice that Teal'c's movements were as fluid and graceful as ever.
A grand, enormous silence settled over the two of them, broken only by the faint ticks of the cooling engine. Jack leaned against the fence at the side of the road, and waited.
continued
U is for Urgo
by majorsamfan
"Ah, c'mon, you know ya wanna!"
"Urgo, for the last time, leave me the hell Alone!" Jack O'Neill sat back against the wall in his quarters banging his head lightly against the wall, which didn't help his nagging headache go away any more than it sent Urgo packing. Closing his eyes against the image of an obese tenor wiggling his fingers in front of his huge torso and bouncing on his feet didn't help, because Urgo was in his head.
And Urgo could stay quiet about as long as O'Neill could sit still without at least something in his hand with which to fidget. In fact, the Colonel was just wishing for his yoyo to play with. 'Damn!' he though, 'He's got me so irritated I just ended that sentence with a preposition!' And once again that whiny voice that often earned Daniel Jackson a glare and, on occasion, the threat to throw his coffee rations in the campfire, wouldn't go away.
"I just want to go outside! See your world? Meet all those interesting people wandering around in your mind…"
'I will not respond. I will not respond. I will not respond.'
Urgo got quiet again, and Jack thought maybe…just maybe Urgo had left to go bother Carter or, even better, Daniel. He peered out from under one eyelid - no Urgo in sight. He switched eyes, and, sure enough his luck held true. The pain in the mik'ta had moved across the room. As soon as their "guest" saw him (sensed him?) open his eyes, he started in again.
"Sara is very pretty; let's go see Sara!"
Jack's face contorted and grew red; he may have actually growled. At his move to get up and throttle Urgo (picturing the act in his mind in great detail), the corpulent character actually recoiled.
"We can go see someone else instead…anyone you like. Let's see, how about that boy, Char--"
Urgo would never know how lucky he was that someone knocked on the door at that moment.
continued
V is for Victory
by sela21k
He stood ramrod straight in the formation, the look on his face as frozen as the ship he stared at through the observation window. They would have rather not have had the grimness for the pictures but resigned themselves to the fact that the old general rarely smiled nowadays and never in this place.
Few knew the whole story of the frozen ship or his connection to it. Those who did had pushed it out of their minds long ago filing it away in the back of their minds as some insignificant historical fact. Every year fewer and fewer showed up at this annual commemoration of the final battle and every year he told himself it would be his last time. He would look upon that ship frozen in time with the people he loved most in the world inside it and be reminded he had failed to free them. As if he could ever forget…
But in spite of himself, he returned every year, though it ripped his heart out to do so. He came and while those around him once again celebrated Earth's greatest victory, he mourned his greatest defeat.
feedback
W is for Washington
by redbyrd_sgfic
Jack O'Neill walked through the last Pentagon checkpoint and headed for the Metro station, his steps deliberately purposeful. He'd covered the stars on his shoulders with a light jacket he really didn't need in the cool spring air. He'd expected to feel their weight at the SGC, where lives rode on his decisions every day. Here, without the faces of the people who depended on him, they were frighteningly ephemeral. The idea that he, of all people, could lose touch, become another Pentagon desk jockey- that made his palms itch for his P-90, or even the slight weight of a zat.
He found his metrocard, swiped it through the kiosk and took the down escalator. His truck was still in transit, along with the rest of his belongings- he had a couple of suitcases which had already been delivered to his new apartment. As a colonel, Jack had tended to disparage the kinds of services that generals got- as a general, it was definitely convenient. Especially since his new position carried with it security requirements that would have made it hard to find a suitable place on his own. He grimaced and scanned the station platform. Since the Trust had grabbed Daniel last year- and that idiot Conrad had taken Carter three years before that- they'd all had to be more alert on their downtime. Which in some ways was a blessing, Jack sometimes thought. After seven-plus years of adrenaline-pumping action offworld, it was awfully hard to just turn all those reflexes off. In fact, Jumper had suggested an official bodyguard which Jack had adamently refused. But no one in the station was taking the least notice of him.
The train swooshed in and Jack boarded. There were only a half dozen others in the car at this hour. He glanced at his watch. Late, but he should make it to the agent's office with a good forty minutes to spare. The girl- whatsername- Sharon, Sherrie, something like that- had said she'd be there until ten.
He found the office without a lot of trouble, rang the night bell.
The woman who answered the door was older than her light soprano had suggested and she smiled at him cheerfully. "Yes?"
"Jack O'Neill," he said. "We spoke earlier?"
"Certainly, General," she smiled. "You have ID?"
He showed her his battered military ID and the shiny new Pentagon passes. "Guess you need to be careful," he said.
She smiled again. "The military expects us to take security seriously, sir. Just let me get your keys."
As she picked up the keys and lease for his new apartment, Jack watched the way she moved- flat heels, light on her feet, something indefinable in her attitude. "You served?"
"Army, six years," she confirmed, pulling the door closed behind her. She glanced at him curiously. "Mind if I ask what your assignment is, sir? They seemed unusually concerned with security, even for a general."
Jack looked out the window. He was definitely out of practice at dealing with uncleared people, he decided. At h- in Colorado, he'd had a comfortable routine where the only people he ever saw were his neighbors, 'Nice day, lawn's looking good,' and the kid who delivered pizza, 'Here, keep the change,' and 'Thanks, mister O'Neill!' and a puzzled glance for the guy who sometimes ordered pizza at eleven in the morning and sometimes was his last customer at one AM. "Tell me about this apartment," he said, after a long pause.
The woman darted a glance sideways, clearly a bit surprised but not distressed. She readily accepted the change of subject. "Two bedrooms, as you wanted, and a balcony. Full security system. The building has keycard entry and guards onsite. Pool and fitness room on the premises. All high ranking military and government people- the building is wholly guaranteed for government use, and only tenants with security clearance are accepted."
Which probably meant a bunch of spooks, Jack knew. And it was practically guaranteed that the Trust had access. That was oddly cheering. "Sounds fine," he said.
continued
X is for Xerox
by samantilles
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Jack rapped quietly on General Hammond's door, waiting for the eventual invitation. He was still bouncing on his heels in sheer joy for finally being released from the wretched timeloop. No more Latin, no more convincing everyone they're not crazy, no more Daniel asking frustrating questions, and thank heavens for no more fruitloops, no matter how much he normally enjoyed them.
"Yes, Jack, please come in! Take a seat!" George was in his normal mood, maybe just a little happier, as far as Jack could tell. Maybe General Hammond was having a good day. Jack certainly was having an amazing day. "I am hoping you might be able to help me out with a mystery, Jack."
"Oh, and what might this mystery be?" Jack tilted his head slightly to the side, deep inside he was grinning madly.
"We found these posted in the commissary while you and SG-1 were on P4X-639, along with a betting sheet to which was the better…" George paused momentarily and coughed in modesty, "specimen." He tossed over the two black and white photocopies and Jack had to hide the wince of recognition as he took a good and close look at his and Tealc's unclothed behinds. It's a really good thing I removed that platoon tatoo a few years ago. "Naturally, I cannot condone this sort of behavior by any of the personnel under my command. We have yet to identify to whom those…" George paused again, "butts belong, but I was hoping you may have noticed in previous timeloops who the perpetrators might be."
Jack feined looking confused, a skill he had honed and perfected in the past several years. "I don't understand, sir."
George contemplated the colonel for a moment. "Major Carter informed me that since this action is most likely not a direct effect of the timeloop, it should have occurred in every loop. As you and Teal'c are the only ones who can remember past timeloops, I was hoping that you might have witnessed who put the pictures up in the commissary."
"Right!" Jack felt caught in the lie, and was thankful for the way out. "Sorry, sir, but Teal'c and I were a bit preoccupied with Daniel during each loop learning and remembering the translation of the ruins. We didn't see a thing, General." Jack gave a smug smile at the answer.
"Very well then, Colonel, I'll leave you to your mission report! You're dismissed!" George smiled at Jack while he gathered together the photocopies off the desk and shoved them in a folder. Jack smiled back in relief that he had not been caught in the act. He honestly hadn't expected the most recent trip to P4X-639 to work and relied on the expectation that his prank would be destroyed with the new timeloop, but at least now he had the very satisfactory answer to the ultimate question as he took one last glance at the betting sheet.
Jack was already half-way out the door when General Hammond stopped him. "By the way, Jack, was it you or Teal'c who broke the glass on the Xerox machine?"
Before he realized the question, Jack answered truthfully. "Teal'c, sir!"
feedback
Y is for... What?
by cleothemuse
Quarantine sucked. Because SG-1 might possibly have contracted a virus while assisting the refugees from PHR-6C8, the team had been swiftly ushered into an isolation room while Frasier and her minions drew blood, shone penlights in their eyes, and generally made the team feel like a bunch of lab rats.
Five hours into their imprisonment, Jack got tired of counting ceiling tiles, had gotten a new high score on Bejeweled, and was otherwise bored out of his gourd.
"I Spy," he began, "with my little eye, something that begins with 'G'."
"Gurney," supplied Teal'c, not looking up from his attempt at kelnorim. Without Junior, he was just as susceptible to the alleged virus as anyone else on the team.
"Nope."
"Glasses," Daniel guessed, glancing up from his laptop only briefly.
"Closer. Give up?"
"Sam hasn't had her turn yet."
The major in question looked up from her own laptop. "What? My turn at what?"
"We're playing 'I Spy'," Jack sighed, flicking out his yo-yo and catching it again. "I Spy, with my little eye, something that begins with 'G'."
"We have already suggested 'gurney' and 'glasses'," added Teal'c, giving up all pretense of meditation. Inwardly, Jack declared a victory.
"Uh..." Sam looked around the room for a moment. "Gauze?"
Jack grinned. "Wrong again!" he crowed triumphantly. "'Geeks'."
"Haha... very funny." Daniel rolled his eyes, shifted his laptop to a new position on his upraised knees, and went back to whatever it was he was doing.
"Okay, so... since none of you guessed it, I get to go again. I Spy, with my little eye, something that starts with... 'S'."
"Sheets," guessed Teal'c.
"Scrubs," chimed in Daniel, tugging on the shoulder of his scrub top.
"Carter?"
"Sphygmomanometer."
Jack stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "What?"
continued
Z is for Z
by with_apostrophe
"Jack," said Daniel as he wandered into the nearly empty commissary.
"Daniel," Jack responded from the far side of the room without looking up from his plate of apple pie with a single scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side.
Daniel walked over to Jack's table and sat down. Resting his forearms on the table, he stared across at Jack for a moment before asking, "Whatcha doing?"
Jack dug into his pie with his spoon and scooped up a little ice cream before shovelling it into his mouth. He chewed a few times before replying indistinctly, "Eating pie."
Daniel's face transformed into an expression of restrained disgust at Jack's manners, his eyes narrowing, lips thinning and nose wrinkling up.
"What?" Jack demanded.
Daniel raised his eyebrows at him.
"Was I supposed to be somewhere?"
"I don't know. But then, I'm not your Personal Assistant," Daniel responded mildly.
"I don't have a -" Jack began.
"And I'm not Walter," Daniel interrupted.
"True," Jack stated, pointing his spoon at Daniel before using it for the purpose for which it was designed. Daniel glared at Jack until he finished the mouthful.
Jack sighed mentally and gave in.
"I was thinking," he admitted.
Daniel's eyebrows reached for his hairline. "Really? Okay, what were you thinking about?"
"Z," Jack responded with a flourish of his hands.
"Z?"
"Yes, Daniel. Z."
"As in 'catching Zs'?"
"No, that's something I prefer to do instead of think about. Z as in 'the letter at the opposite end of the alphabet from A.'"
"Why?"
"No, Z."
Daniel rolled his eyes. "Why are you thinking about the letter Z?"
"Why not?"
continued