(Trek/SGA/SG1/Leverage/Warehouse 13) The Road Goes Ever On... for shinealightonme (Pt 1)
Title: The Road Goes Ever On And On
Author: mistokath13
Fandoms: Leverage/Stargate (both SG1 and SGA)/Star Trek XI/Warehouse 13
Characters James T. Kirk, Leonard McCoy, Montgomery Scott; Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison, Parker; Teal’C, John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagan; Artie Nielsen, Pete Lattimer, Myka Bering, Claudia Donovan
Pairings: none
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 17,692
Spoilers: Star Trek: the movie; Leverage: season three; Stargate: season 5 of Atlantis, Season 9 for SG1; Warehouse 13: season two episode 9
Warnings: blatant disregard for how non-disclosure and top secrecy for the US government (allegedly) works.
Disclaimer: All fandoms used belong to their respective creators - and that is, in neither case, mine.
A/N: I think this fic only works if you consider it slightly AU for SGA and Leverage and remove all Star Trek references ever made. Tons of Thanks and Tchocolate for Ginny, for all the awesome help, regarding all things numbers (distances, times, and ages), commas, and cat-induced misspellings, not to mention the great job betaing it.
Summary: A shuttle accident leaves Captain Kirk, Doctor McCoy and Mr. Scott stranded in the 21st century. Now they have to find their way back into their own time, and on the way, they make some new friends.
Part I: Prologue: The Future
It was quiet in space, and for once, it also was quiet on board of the Federation ship USS Enterprise.
Captain James T. Kirk exhaled soundlessly and allowed himself to sink back into the Captain’s chair, relaxing the muscles in his shoulders bit by bit. The nightshift on the Enterprise was slow-going and his crew was either asleep or working efficiently. They didn’t need him right now to make snap decisions that could potentially put their lives in danger, and he could sit back and let them do their jobs.
He could look out to the stars and allow his thoughts to wander, to the never-ending freedom of space, and how much political decisions and diplomatic missions had put restraints on that freedom.
“Captain.”
He didn’t look up at the greeting, but a small smile curved his lips up.
“Spock,” he replied and let his voice get a warm tone. He knew that human emotions still puzzled his Vulcan first officer and confused him, but he also knew that Spock appreciated and valued Jim’s friendship despite its rocky start, and he made the effort to let Spock in small ways know that Jim appreciated it as well.
“You have not retired for the night.”
It wasn’t a question, just a statement, an observation, but Jim made a small affirmative sound anyway.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he explained after a moment. Thoughts had plagued him and had kept him from getting his rest, thoughts and worries about Klingons and the last diplomatic mission they had been sent on.
“Maybe you should talk to Doctor McCoy,” Spock suggested after a moment of silence. “You are scheduled to join the mission to Sulak in seven point three hours.”
Jim nodded and slowly stretched his arms over his head before standing.
“You’re right,” he said. “I should go to bed.” He grinned at Spock, who, despite the late hour, was as impeccable-looking as always and had his hands crossed at the small of his back.
As usual, Spock’s only reaction to his grin was a raised eyebrow that looked as if Spock didn’t know exactly if he wanted to be vaguely disapproving or slightly amused by Jim’s blatant display of emotions.
He resisted the urge to clap Spock on the shoulder as he stepped past him, respecting his wish not to get touched. “Night, Spock.”
“Good night, Captain,” Spock replied, just before the turbolift’s doors closed between them.
~*+*~
“The planet Sulak has been surrounded by a thick asteroid belt for more than one hundred years,” Spock said as Jim fell in step with him. “You will be required to travel there by shuttle.”
Jim nodded. He’d learned as much in the mission briefing the day before. “Scotty and Bones are already waiting in the shuttle bay,” he answered and flashed Spock a grin. “You better keep my ship safe.”
“Of course, Captain.”
They walked around the corner and found Dr. Leonard McCoy and Mr. Scott already waiting for them. McCoy was shifting from one foot to the other and double-checking the bag he’d brought while frowning unhappily. Mr. Scott was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, but he nodded a greeting when he saw Jim and Spock.
“Ready for a little road trip?” Jim asked and nudged McCoy’s shoulder slightly.
McCoy only gave him a dark glare and shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other while adjusting the strap carefully.
“Let’s go, then,” Jim said and rubbed his hands. “Mr. Spock, the ship is yours. Treat her well while I’m gone.”
He entered the shuttle bay, quickly followed by Scott and McCoy, and did his best to ignore McCoy’s quiet grumbling. His restlessness from the night before was coming back, and his fingers itched to get this mission underway.
“Remind me again why we need to go to this planet,” McCoy growled as he fell into his seat.
“Sulak is supposed to have some old artifacts,” Scott said over his shoulders as his hands wandered over the shuttle’s controls and he initiated the pre-flight protocols. “And old technology.”
“Plus, they asked for our help,” Jim added. “An old immunity deficiency the people are suffering from. They need your expertise, which means you’re going, Bones, so don’t argue.”
McCoy grumbled a little more under his breath, and Jim settled in his own seat and smiled slightly as Scotty piloted the shuttle skillfully away from the Enterprise and toward the ring of debris that surrounded the planet Sulak.
“Have to be careful now,” Scott muttered and adjusted their speed slightly. “This is a dangerous area…”
The shuttle shuddered and from the corner of his eye, Jim saw how McCoy’s knuckles whitened on the armrests of his seat.
“Scotty?” he asked, a hint of alarm in his voice.
“Just a little…” Scott’s voice drifted off and the shuttle swerved to the side. For a split second, the gravity generators failed to keep up with the sudden move, and a panicked sound escaped McCoy’s throat.
“What’s going on?” Jim asked.
“Not sure, Captain,” Scott admitted. His fingers were flying over the console now, and his forehead was furrowed in concentration.
“What do you mean, not sure?” McCoy asked just as Scott forced the shuttle into a tight spiral, to avoid a collision with an asteroid.
“It means, I don’t know…” Scott trailed off again as an alarm sounded and he stared in disbelief at the screen. “It’s a rip in the space-time-continuum.”
“What?” McCoy asked, disbelief and shock in his voice.
“We’re getting sucked into a rip in the fabric of space and time,” Scott called out over his shoulder before Jim could say something.
“You mean…like Nero?” McCoy demanded to know.
“Yes,” Scott yelled just as the shuttle tumbled out of control and a loud, screeching sound swallowed the rest of his words. Sparks flew from the console and he yelped in pain, the sound unheard over the alarm klaxons.
Then - for an undetermined amount of time, darkness and silence.
Jim stirred slightly. “Scotty?” he asked, his voice rough. “Bones?”
“I’m here,” McCoy muttered. “I’m okay.” He shook his head slightly and pressed his fingertips to his own forehead. When he pulled them back, they were sticky, probably from his own blood. He would need light to confirm that, but the dizziness he was feeling already told him enough for a first diagnosis.
“Good,” Jim answered and reached for Scott’s shoulder. “Scotty?”
The engineer stirred slightly and groaned softly. “Captain?” he slurred. “Are we still alive?”
The lights came back on and revealed that Scott’s hands were reddened with burns, and McCoy pushed Jim out of the way to get a closer look.
“Looks like it,” Jim answered. “What happened, where are we?” He squeezed himself past Scott’s still dazed body and brushed his fingers over the controls. More sparks flew, and Jim jerked back with a bitten-off curse.
“Jim!” McCoy called out in alarm. “Dammit…”
“It’s okay,” Jim hastily said. “Just trying to find out where we are.” He grimaced. “And when.”
The computer beeped and spluttered, and Scott made a small sound of discomfort and reached for the controls again, waving McCoy off. “Just a moment, Captain,” he said, “based on the constellations we can find out where we are…and maybe also when.” He worked a few more seconds in silence before a sound of triumph escaped him.
“Captain?”
“Hmm?”
Scot brought a picture on the front screen, and both McCoy and Kirk leaned closer to inspect it.
“That’s not Sulak,” Jim commented dryly.
“No,” Scott agreed, his voice trembling. “This is Earth.”
“Oh, great,” McCoy said sharply. “If we beam down now, will we find people living in trees?”
“Bones, we can’t beam down, we’re in a shuttle,” Jim reminded him absent-mindedly, his eyes not moving away from the picture of the blue planet.
McCoy exhaled in a loud sigh. “What year?” he asked back resignedly.
“Late 20th century, maybe early 21st century,” Scott answered. “We’ve gone about two hundred years back.”
For a long moment, they all stared at the delicate-looking blue-and-green ball hanging in space in front of them, a planet they all called home, and yet, it wasn’t the home planet they knew.
This was a strange planet.
Finally, Jim stirred. “How do we get home?” he wanted to know quietly. “The shuttle?”
“No,” Scott answered immediately. “There is no way we can modify the shuttle to travel through time. It’s too damaged to do much more than what it’s doing right now.”
“That means…we’re stuck here?” McCoy asked.
“Not necessarily.” Scott shook his head and turned around to face them. “There might be another way.”
Jim shrugged with one shoulder. “Let’s hear it,” he encouraged.
Scott hesitated a split-second. “In the 20th and 21st century,” he started, “there was an organization that had control over an ancient device, the Stargate, that allowed them to travel to other planets…it was a top secret organization.”
“How does that help us?” McCoy interrupted impatiently.
“The Stargates…time travel was possible with them,” Scott answered. “They had barely started to explore that when most Stargates were destroyed in the middle of the 22nd century.”
“I’ve never heard of this organization or this device,” McCoy admitted.
“It was -and still is - highly classified,” Scott answered. “My great-great-great-great-grand uncle used to work for them…as their chief medical officer.” His lips twitched slightly at that.
“Okay.” Jim rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So, in order to get back home, we need to find this device - “ He raised both eyebrows. “ - which is top secret, and need to get the people in charge to let us use it?”
“In the right second, when there’s a sunflare that can transport us back in our time,” Scott added.
“A sunflare.” McCoy sounded unimpressed. “How should we know when there’s such a thing?”
“Our computers can tell us,” Scott answered. “The man we need to talk to is…” he hesitated and stared at the computer. “His name is Jack O’Neill.”
“Jack O’Neill?” Jim asked, surprised. “As in, General Jack O’Neill who was one of the most prominent supporters of the new space program that became active in twenty twenty-five?”
“Yes, that one,” Scott nodded. “Before he went to Washington, he worked at the SGC.”
“Okay,” Jim said again and tried to sort through his thoughts while acting as if this was something that happened every day to him. Rolling with the punches was the first thing he had learned when he’d taken over command of the Enterprise, and he used his experience now to keep everybody calm. “We need this device, and we need a sunflare - and in order to get the device, we need to convince General Jack O’Neill to let us use it?”
“Yeah, and how are you going to convince him to let three strangers get access to a top secret project?” McCoy tossed in.
Jim sighed. “I don’t know yet,” he admitted. “Maybe you can give him something, Bones?”
McCoy gave him a dark glare. “No,” he simply said. “I can not give him something.”
“Aw, come on, Bones,” Jim replied. “We need to find a way home here.”
“Find another way,” McCoy replied firmly. “I’ve sworn an oath. Dammit, Jim. I’m a doctor, not a lie detector.”
“I’m going to get closer to the planet,” Scott announced. “Maybe I can access the planet’s communication frequencies and find out more about the exact time we’re in.”
Jim nodded and leaned back into his seat. It was only a few seconds before the planet came closer and closer.
“I’ve got it,” Scott reported. “The year, and I have a pretty good idea where to find O’Neill. There’s only one problem.”
“Only one?” McCoy muttered.
Scott didn’t pay attention to him. “The shuttle was damaged in the rip -w e can get through the atmosphere, but it’ll be the last thing this one will be able to do, I’m sorry to say.”
Jim sighed. “We don’t have a choice,” he realized. “Get us down, Scotty.”
“As close to Washington, D.C., as you can,” McCoy grunted.
“Aye,” Scott murmured and guided the broken little ship down as gently as he could.
Part II: Washington, D.C.
“You sure nobody will find the remains of the shuttle?” Jim asked and moved his shoulders uncomfortably.
“Aye,” Scott nodded and fiddled with the zipper of his jacket. It was a faded red color and the sleeves were already slightly frayed out, but they had to blend into this time and that meant that they had to get rid of their uniforms and find clothes to wear. “It’ll explode as soon as you engage the self-destruct, Captain.”
Jim nodded thoughtfully and squared his shoulders. He hadn’t told Scott or McCoy where he’d gone after they’d landed the shuttle and had given them the order to try to hide as much of evidence that they had been there as possible. An hour later he’d returned, a twinkle in his eyes, a bundle of clothes in his hands and a wad of cash in one of the pockets of his faded, washed-out jeans.
“Good,” Jim said and pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his black leather jacket. “Any idea where we can find O’Neill?”
“His office.” McCoy was wearing jeans, a faded jeans jacket and a checkered blue and yellow shirt. He was holding his bag close and had brushed his hair into his forehead, over the small cut he’d sustained on the rough shuttle ride. “We have an address, but we don’t know how to get there.”
Jim nodded. “We’ll get there,” he promised. “And we’ll get home, Bones.”
He tried to sound convincing, to sound certain and as if there was no doubt whatsoever about their eventual return to their own time.
McCoy only glared at him, but Jim didn’t let his façade crack. He needed his old friend to believe in him and trust him to get them all back home safe and sound.
McCoy broke the eye contact first and glanced down again, and Jim reached out and squeezed his shoulder gently.
“We’ll figure it out, don’t worry about it,” he murmured. “Just remember, treat this like any mission to an under-developed planet. Don’t tell them where we’re from and what we know, and we’re fine. We don’t want to alter history, right?”
“Don’t worry about it?” McCoy repeated incredulously.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Jim affirmed and took a step back. “Where’s that office? Are we ready to go? Do we have what we need?”
Scott nodded and handed Jim a phaser and a communicator.
“Let’s go.”
Behind them, the shuttle exploded almost immediately. Seconds later, the three men had left the area. When the police arrived to investigate the explosion reported in by a jogger, they found no trace of what had happened here.
~*+*~
“How do we get inside now?” McCoy asked and crossed his arms over his chest while glancing up the façade of the building.
Jim followed his glance and shrugged. “Scotty?”
Scott shrugged. “Their security is really easy to crack,” he answered and pulled his tricorder out of his jacket. “I think we can simply sneak in, Captain.”
“Then let’s go,” Jim decided and squared his shoulders. “Lead the way, Mr. Scott, and we’ll follow you.”
Scott nodded and stared hard at the display of his tricorder while figuring out the best way to get undetected into the building. Once he’d found the best way in, he guided Jim and McCoy halfway around the building and then in.
“What is that?” McCoy muttered from the corner of his mouth at Jim when he saw the construction in front of them.
“A metal detector,” Jim murmured back. He grinned slightly, delighted that his interest in Earth history was paying off. “Remember, this is a time when a lot of weapons are based on metals.”
“Barbaric,” McCoy grumbled as he looked in mistrust and with barely hidden disgust at the machine.
Scott made a small sound at the back of his throat and touched a fingertip to the side of his tricorder.
“Again, hacking into this thing and manipulating it into turning a blind eye on our things should be easy,” he explained. “It’s rather us I’m more worried about. We don’t exactly fit in here.”
Jim nodded and glanced past the machine. “We need uniforms, or suits,” he realized.
Scott smiled slowly. “I have an idea, Captain.”
~*+*~
“Dammit, Jim,” McCoy hissed while buttoning the blue shirt and rolling up the sleeves. “I’m a doctor, not a cleaning robot.”
“Right now, you’re pretending to be a part of the cleaning stuff,” Jim replied calmly. “Come on, Bones. This is an adventure. I mean, how often do you get the chance to time travel?”
“Too often, apparently,” McCoy answered darkly, but he straightened and smoothed down his shirt. “I’m ready.”
This time they managed to slip past the metal detector and into the building itself undetected. Scott guided them through a maze of hallways, sometimes ducking into less populated side hallways and empty rooms until they finally reached the door that announced in bold, capital letters that they’d reached their destination: General Jack O’Neill’s office.
“Great,” McCoy murmured and yanked at his collar. “What now?”
“Now, we break in and wait for the General to come back to his office,” Jim answered calmly and inspected his fingernails with pretended casualness. “I really don’t think he’ll be here this late.”
“Did you figure out a way to convince him to give us access to his top secret pet project?” McCoy asked quietly while Scott ran the tricorder over the door.
“Er…” Jim started, but before he could either come up with a good plan quickly or admit that he had no idea, a shout of “Hey!” made them all look up and whirl around.
An armed guard stood at the end of the hall, his hand on his gun, and his attention focused on the three of them and the blonde woman dressed in the same blue uniform of the cleaning crew as them.
Jim blinked. He’d never seen this woman before, hadn’t seen her arrive, but there she was, glaring at Scott with something like annoyance on her face.
“Step back from the door!” the guard ordered, “And turn to the opposite wall! Your arms over your heads! All of you, now!”
He waved with his gun, never moving it far from pointing at one of them, and Jim exchanged a resigned look with Scott and did as he had been told. The others followed his example.
The blonde woman gave him a sideways look as she rested her gloved fingers lightly on her head. “Were you trying to break into the General’s office, too?” she asked with unmasked curiosity.
Jim grinned at her and shrugged slightly.
“Then it was you who tripped the alarm,” she stated before frowning. “What were you looking for, the airplane designs?”
“No,” Jim said and glanced over his shoulder. The guard still had his gun trained on them and was talking into a walkie-talkie. “We just want to talk to the General.”
“That’s stupid,” the woman told him. “Why did you try to break in just to talk to the guy? Especially when he’s not even there.”
Jim gave her another flirty smile. “Let’s just say he knows stuff that we’re interested in.”
“You mean the Area 52 project?” she asked and pressed herself more firmly against the wall.
Jim looked at Scott.
“Yes,” Scott answered, surprise coloring his voice.
“Well, then,” the woman said simply, “you can wait for him and I can get the plans I came for?”
Jim grinned, exposing all of his teeth. “Great,” he answered simply. “I’m Jim.”
The woman gave him a long careful look, as if she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do next, but then she exhaled through her nose and said, “Parker.”
“Nice to meet you, Parker,” Jim said, but before he could add another word, McCoy interrupted.
“I don’t believe this,” he hissed at Jim. “In case you’ve forgotten, there’s an old-fashioned projectile gun pointed at our heads, and even if they are very primitive, they can kill you, so please stop your damn flirting for one little moment…”
“That’s my friend, Bones,” Jim simply said and nodded slightly in McCoy’s direction. “He’s a little grumpy sometimes.”
Parker smiled suddenly. “Oh! Like Eliot! And he doesn’t like guns, too!” she said, and Jim, who had no idea who this Eliot person was, nodded anyway.
Parker’s hand moved to her ear.
“Not good,” she murmured. “The guard called for back-up. Uh-huh. We need to abort this mission, come back later. With a better plan.”
“What?” Jim asked confusedly. “Why?”
She gave him a look that told Jim exactly what she thought of his question; a look that reminded him of Lt. Uhura.
“In five minutes, this place will be swarming with armed forces,” she explained in short, quiet words. “By then, we need to be gone.” She gave Jim another look.
“Look,” she said with an eye roll when he didn’t react. “You can come, hang out and we’ll try again later.”
“You sure?” Jim asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, why not? I mean, you’re thieves too. Bad thieves, admittedly, but…” she shrugged and turned around.
Jim shook his head slightly and followed her example. They were both staring at the guard now, just in time to watch as a slightly smaller, stockier man with a ponytail and dressed in the same uniform they were wearing, crashed into the guard while keeping one arm pressed against his side protectively.
It was only seconds until the man had disarmed the guard and had left him unconscious.
“Eliot,” Parker said and took a step toward him. “What’s with your ribs?”
“Nothing,” the man growled. “Let’s go, Parker. Now.”
Parker, Jim thought with quiet amusement, had been right with one thing: this Eliot guy growled just as good as Bones did, and he had the same dark scowl on his face.
“Come on,” Parker said and tugged at Jim’s sleeve. “Let’s go.” Her voice sounded urgent, and Jim nodded and started following her.
“Your ribs.” Bones’ voice was quiet, but forceful, and he didn’t slow down as he talked. “They’re broken.”
“I said it’s fine,” Eliot growled. “Let’s go, man, unless you want to explain to the Air Force what you’re doing here, breaking into General O’Neill’s office.”
“You need someone to look at those ribs,” McCoy argued.
“Bones,” Jim said, the hint of a warning in his voice. “Not now.”
McCoy gave him another of his glares, but he snapped his mouth shut and silently continued following Parker.
Jim thought he could hear him grind his teeth, even from his current spot several steps away, and he turned to the man - Eliot - and flashed him his brightest grin.
“You should listen to him,” he said. “He’s a doctor, he knows what he’s talking about.”
Eliot growled again. “Not. Now.”
Jim decided to shut up and followed him out of the building and around a few corners and finally into a black, unmarked van, where he found himself face-to-face with a young, dark-skinned man who gave him one look and turned toward Parker.
“Hell, no,” he said. “We had this talk, girl. We talked about this.” He pointed an accusing finger at Jim. “You’re not supposed to pick up strays and bring them home, Parker.”
“But they needed help. We help people.” Parker sounded confused. “And they know about Area 52.” She frowned slightly. “They are weird - they have almost no money, and no credit cards, and that one -” she pointed at Scott - “said it’s easy to hack into the government computers. He could help you crack that thing.”
The young man opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly, but no sound escaped.
“And that one is a doctor. He can help Eliot’s ribs,” Parker added cheerfully.
The man threw his hands up in capitulation and climbed into the driver’s seat with no further comment.
“Weird period of time,” McCoy murmured, close to Jim’s ear, and Jim had to agree.
These were weird times, and weird people, and they weren’t any closer to their goal - access to the Stargate - than they had been before, but on the other hand, they, apparently, had found some friends, and thieves on top of that.
That whole day, Jim decided while leaning back against the wall of the van, mindful of the equipment stored there, could have gone better.
Much, much better.
~*+*~
One thing, Jim thought as he pressed himself tight against the wall and let Parker run the show, was for certain: the young blonde knew how to do her job. Jim had seen a lot of thieves in his time, including the quick-fingered Sallam who moved so quick that their movements couldn’t be seen by the naked human eye, but Parker was methodical and well-organized and knew exactly what she was doing. She also was as limber and athletic as an Orion slave girl.
“All clear,” Scott reported through the comms the man in the van, Hardison, had given them. Hardison had still been shooting them dark glares whenever he thought Jim and his men weren’t seeing it, but he wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was. He’d let them stay begrudgingly when Parker had insisted, and so had Eliot, who’d told McCoy that he could take care of his own ribs until Parker and Hardison had told him not to be an idiot. Only then had he allowed McCoy to take a look at his ribs and bind them tight. McCoy had complained the entire time about barbaric methods, and Eliot had looked at him warily, but when McCoy had been finished, Eliot had given him a brief nod before he’d hopped off the table and put his shirt back on.
“Okay, go, go, go,” Parker whispered furiously, and Jim and Eliot crept hastily around the corner.
“Three armed guards ahead,” McCoy’s voice reported. He’d stayed in the van that was, once again, parked just a short distance away, together with Scott and with Hardison.
“Yeah, I got them,” Eliot murmured back and unzipped his jacket.
“Need help?” Jim asked, but Eliot only flashed him a brief grin and disappeared on silent feet around the corner.
“Eliot is the best at what he does,” Parker whispered quietly.
“Oh yeah?” McCoy’s voice grumbled in their ears. “And what is what he does?”
Parker grinned and guided Jim around the corner. The three guards were unconscious on the ground, their hands tied behind their backs with plastic ties.
“This is what I do,” Eliot replied. He wasn’t even out of breath, Jim noticed, despite the broken ribs.
“Impressive,” he said and shook his head slightly.
With Hardison’s help, they made their way unerringly to the right office, and it took Parker only seconds to break in.
Jim was impressed. Parker knew exactly what she wanted and went for it with no hesitation, Before he even realized what she was doing, she was sitting behind General O’Neill’s desk and had booted up his computer. Jim caught himself and busied himself with the safe.
“Copying files,” Hardison reported over the comms, quickly followed by Scott’s muttered, “Aye.”
“We’ve got company,” Eliot cot in. “Hurry up, Parker!”
“One more minute,” she answered absent-mindedly.
“You don’t have one more minute,” Eliot hissed quietly.
“Almost got it,” she sing-songed, just as the safe clicked open under Jim’s careful hands.
“Huh,” he said. “Models of airplanes - the really old kind - and pictures. Looks like those have been drawn by pre-schoolers…this guy doesn’t really know what a safe is for.”
“What, no bars of gold?” McCoy muttered in his ear. “How disappointing.”
Parker chuckled. “We should rob a bank together,” she suggested before standing and pocketing the small drive Hardison had given her.
“Eliot,” Hardison warned, and Eliot growled.
“I see him,” he answered, just as Parker grabbed Jim’s arm and tugged him toward the door and out of the office. They only caught one glance at the huge, dark-skinned man in uniform and a black, knitted hat who was arching a disapproving eyebrow at Eliot, who looked almost small next to him.
Eliot looked up and rolled his shoulders, to loosen them. He grinned and lifted his arms into a defensive pose. The other man bowed his head for a split second. As soon as he straightened, Eliot attacked him in a flurry of movements.
Jim slowed his steps and looked over his shoulder. He couldn’t really distinguish between the two men anymore. All he could see was a tangle of arms and bodies. Eliot was quick on his feet, his hits and jabs sharp and precise, but his opponent was, despite his bigger mass, just as agile.
The fight looked to be equal on first glance, Jim thought, but the other guy had a wider reach than Eliot, and just as he watched, the man ducked under Eliot’s defense and managed to hit Eliot in the ribs.
He’d lost his hat somewhere along the line, and Jim could see gold shimmer on his forehead as the man came back up and hit Eliot again.
His fist connected with Eliot’s jaw, and Eliot stumbled, momentarily dazed by the force of the blow.
Jim decided that he’d watched for long enough without interfering and that Eliot could use some help, no matter if he wanted it or not.
The phaser in his pocket was familiar, and he didn’t need that long to set it to stun or to aim it at the fighters.
Eliot grunted, and Jim decided that he’d really heard enough. The only problem was that he couldn’t get a clear shot at the other man without Eliot getting in the way, but Jim didn’t think he could wait any longer without risking more than serious injury to Eliot.
He didn’t hesitate any longer.
“Hey,” he said, and when both fighters spared one quick glance in his direction, the beam of the phaser hit both of them. They broke down soundlessly, and Jim hastily put the weapon back into his pocket and raced forward, to get Eliot’s unconscious body.
Blood was tickling down Eliot’s face from a cut above his eyebrow, and Jim grabbed his arm and pulled. Eliot was heavy, and for a split second, Jim wished for Spock’s inhuman strength.
Parker slipped under Eliot’s other arm.
“We need to get out,” he told her as he wrapped Eliot’s arm over his shoulders. “Before this guy wakes up again or his friends realize that something is wrong.”
Parker simply nodded, and together they dragged Eliot out of the building.
~*+*~
“The thing you’re looking for is, according to the data Parker got from this guy’s computer, most likely in California,” Hardison explained and pointed his clicker at the screen.
“San Francisco,” Scott clarified.
“Oh, great,” McCoy murmured and pressed an ice pack into Eliot’s hand. “How do we get there?”
Hardison turned with his chair. “Flying?” he asked.
“No.” Parker shook her head. “These guys have no ID and almost no money.”
“How exactly do you know that?” Jim asked. This, he realized, was the second time Parker had mentioned that they had no ID or money, and he was starting to get worried that she had gone through his pockets, even if he hadn’t noticed it.
“Plus, we’re kinda…wanted,” Scott added.
“Faking IDs, man, that I can do,” Hardison muttered. “How wanted are you guys?”
“What’s wrong with fl -“ Jim started, but he quickly realized that it would be best if they interacted with as few people as possible. The fewer people even knew that they were here, the better. Getting exposed to a whole plane and a whole airport of people could spell disaster. He just shrugged - if he let Hardison think they were wanted, it could only help them, he figured.
“San Francisco is our goal, then,” Hardison sighed.
Parker cheered. “Road trip!”
Jim caught McCoy’s gaze. His old friend glared at him, and Jim suddenly remembered what he’d told Bones before they’d left the Enterprise. It seemed like it had happened an eternity ago - almost a lifetime ago, even if it was less than twenty-four hours for them.
They would get back home, and if it was the last thing Jim would do, he swore and forced himself to smile at Bones. He didn’t know yet how they would get there, but they would find a way.
They always found a way.
“Road trip,” Eliot sighed before glaring at Parker. “You are not driving!”
“Wait a second,” Jim interrupted and stood. “You want…to come along?”
Eliot, Hardison and Parker exchanged a look, but it was Parker who answered.
“I haven’t been to San Francisco for ages,” she said. “And you need our help. How else are you going to get there? You don’t have money.”
“What about those plane blueprints you were after?” Scott asked, but Parker just shrugged.
“That was just for fun,” she said with a dismissive shake of her head. “We’re in between jobs right now, and Nate and Sophie won’t be back for weeks.” She grinned widely. “Come on, guys, it’ll be fun!”
“Fun.” Eliot didn’t sound impressed. “That’s about 45 driving hours, plus stops for gas and food.”
“Sounds about right,” Hardison nodded and looked up from his computer to grin at them. “When do we leave?”
Part III: Road Trip: Highway to Hell
Forty-five driving hours, plus stops for gas and food, Eliot had said, but it was only a little over seventeen hours when Jim started to develop serious doubts that it had been a good idea to trust these people to get them safely to San Francisco.
He’d tried to hide his doubts, but McCoy knew him too well to get fooled by his constructed cheerful attitude. He didn’t say anything, but Jim could feel his worried looks like a tangible weight resting on his shoulders.
In addition to that, they were locked into a van for hours, and even if they couldn’t see Eliot and Hardison’s faces as they were taking turns driving, Jim was certain that the two men were suspicious of them and didn’t trust them, and Jim didn’t trust them either.
He’d borrowed Scott’s tricorder before they’d started their trip. He had, with no problems, found information about General Jack O’Neill and big parts of his career, but there hadn’t been anything about the three individuals they were travelling with right now.
He stretched his arms over his head and yawned before giving Parker a wide grin. He still didn’t know if Parker was a first- or a last name, or why Eliot and Hardison had insisted that she didn’t drive the car.
Parker scrunched up her nose, but she didn’t move otherwise and kept on staring at Jim. It was making Jim vaguely uncomfortable - he felt as if Parker knew something about him that he didn’t want other people to know.
Eventually, the car slowed. “Bathroom break,” Hardison announced over his shoulder, and Scott groaned appreciatively. Jim was glad, too - he needed to walk around, stretch his legs and work the kinks out of his back before they could continue their journey.
He nudged Scott slightly. “This would be the perfect time for you to invent beaming,” he muttered under his breath. “Save us some time here.”
Scott snorted and climbed out of the van as it came to a stop. “Do I look like MacGyver to you?” he asked darkly - apparently, his mood had suffered from the trip, as well.
Jim shrugged and let Scott pass before rolling his eyes at McCoy behind Scott’s back.
“Who?” he asked.
“Don’t know,” McCoy growled. “Probably some Scottish saint of some sort, how should I know? I’m a doctor, not a damn encyclopedia, Jim!”
He stomped off, and Jim sighed as he followed them at a more sedate pace.
“Hey,” he told Eliot, who had his hands buried deep in his pockets and who was glaring at a family of five who was piling out of a tiny car next to them. “Want me to drive?”
Eliot transferred his glare to him. “Can you even drive?” he asked.
Jim grinned again. “Yeah, sure,” he answered. “I’ve been driving since I was a kid.”
His memory flashed back to the day he’d crashed the old car of his stepfather , how he’d driven it into the canyon and had almost died while doing it.
“So did Parker,” Eliot growled. “Doesn’t mean anything.” Despite his words, he handed Jim the keys and Jim flashed him another grin he didn’t really feel.
He just wished that they had already reached San Francisco and a concrete lead on the Stargate; and even more, he wished that they’d already managed to find their way home.
Parker brushed past him, and Jim frowned. The move was vaguely familiar and reminded him of his last shore leave, how he and Bones had gone from one bar to the next, and how the Orion slave girl had sidled up to him and he’d woken up the next morning with a headache the size of the Klingon empire and all of his money missing.
“Parker,” he said, a hint of warning in his voice.
She froze. “Oops?” she offered and turned on her heels. She gave him a look through her bangs and a small, apologetic shrug before offering him his phaser back.
Jim felt hot and cold shudders run down his back - his words about not influencing this society and time came back, and a feeling of dread befell him. What if he’d change the course of history, simply by being careless and letting Parker steal his phaser?
“I’m sorry?” Parker asked, and Jim swallowed his panic and forced himself to think rationally about the entire situation.
“It’s okay,” he answered. “Don’t do it again, okay?”
“I’ll try,” Parker promised, and Jim nodded and pushed the phaser back deep into his pocket. There was no need making a lot of fuss about it now and would only pull attention to where Jim didn’t want it - maybe, he hoped almost desperately, she would forget about what she’d taken from him and not think about it anymore.
Two hundred years, he told himself. Whatever happened here between him and Parker, it wouldn’t make any difference over the distance of two hundred years.
“That wasn’t the first time you’d gone through my pockets, right?” he asked resignedly, and Parker’s shoulders slumped slightly.
The damage already had been done, Jim thought, and Parker hadn’t told anyone about their strange weapons yet - if she’d even realized that the phaser was a weapon. Making a scene around it now for being a thief wouldn’t make her stop stealing, and it would be unfair, especially since he and his men had profited already from her expertise and most likely would do so again before they reached San Francisco.
“Don’t do it again,” he murmured softly, but he made sure to keep the threat and displeasure out of his voice. He didn’t want Eliot to get involved into this discussion.
McCoy and Scott came back. McCoy gave the keys in Jim’s hand a quick glance and sighed. “God save us all,” he muttered and climbed back into the van.
Parker took the opportunity and slipped away from Jim, to stop next to Eliot and tug slightly at his sleeve. She tilted her head to the side almost imperceptibly.
Eliot frowned at her, but he followed Parker to the other side of the car and a few steps away. Jim, who had caught the wordless conversation, swallowed thickly. He had a pretty good idea what Parker was going to tell Eliot right now.
“Everything okay?” Scott whispered, and Jim nodded firmly.
He had to trust that Parker would keep her word, or he had to shoot them all and hope that he and his men could find their way without help, and he wasn’t quite willing to do that yet.
“Yeah,” he answered softly. “Just…keep your eyes open.”
~*+*~
Eliot stared at Parker’s hunched shoulders.
“What?” he finally growled.
Parker didn’t turn around to face him. “Can I drive?” she asked.
“What?” Eliot frowned. “No!”
“Hm.” Parker finally turned around and looked at him with wide eyes. Eliot wasn’t quite sure if something had scared her or if she was playing with him, but he was willing to think that she really had been spooked by something. He was willing to put his money on this stranger - Jim, the others called him, or Captain - as the reason for Parker’s suddenly more than weird behavior. Hardison had ran all three of them through his facial recognition program and had checked the FBI’s most wanted list, plus the most-wanted lists of several other countries.
“Man,” he’d told Eliot, “I found you, and if I handed your ass over, I’d be rich…richer than I already am, but not a trace of them, El. They’re hiding something.”
Eliot tended to agree with Hardison there. He hadn’t been able to identify the big guy’s fighting style at first, the one he’d fought the night they’d broken into General O’Neill’s office, but he knew that the government was involved in some top secret projects and he’d figured that the man had been involved in one of those projects. The fighting style had been very distinctive, even if he’d needed some time to figure out where he knew it from.
Plus, there had been some more weird things about these strangers - their inability to deal with traffic, for example, or the Doc’s muttering about “bone mending” and “barbaric methods” as he’d stitched up Eliot and had bound his broken ribs. He’d done something with that computer thing he was carrying around - a computer Hardison hadn’t been able to identify or hack - and had given Eliot a shot of something, without asking first, that had numbed the pain without influencing him otherwise before ordering Eliot in a gruff voice to take it easy for a few days or week.
Eliot had broken ribs before. He knew they needed time to heal, and yet, it had taken him only a few days this time to feel better.
“Do you think we should call Nate?” Parker asked him now hesitantly. “These guys…I don’t trust them, Eliot. They’re hiding something - something big.”
Eliot shook his head. “No,” he said after a moment of thinking. “We can take care of this on our own. We’ll get them to San Francisco and then, we go home. We helped them enough.”
Parker looked at him doubtfully. “You think they’re from the government?” she wanted to know. “Or the military?”
Eliot shrugged. “Some kind of military, maybe,” he admitted his suspicions. “But no idea where they’re from. I’ve never seen anything like that…”
“Their weapons.” Parker frowned. “He used his weapon to stun you, but it wasn’t a taser. I checked.”
There was no doubt who this he Parker was referring to was.
“I mean, he probably saved your life - that guy with the golden sign on his forehead was going to smash in your head, Eliot,” Parker continued.
Eliot growled in annoyance. He had to admit that Parker was probably right, as little as he liked to say, or even think, so, and so far, the strangers hadn’t really done anything to get them in danger yet.
Yet.
“We’ll get this job done,” he said. “Just…be careful, Parker.”
She nodded, and slipped back around the corner of the car.
~*+*~
Hardison took his sweet time returning, and when he did, he was carrying a six pack of orange soda and a bag of gummifrogs. Eliot gave him a glare that Hardison ignored with the experience of years of working with Eliot, and Eliot took the passenger seat in front and let Hardison squeeze in the back with Parker, Scott and McCoy.
Jim gave him a grin as he pushed the keys in the ignition and started the car, but Eliot could see that the grin was getting brittle and started to crumble around the edges. Jim Kirk didn’t like the situation he was in any more than Eliot did.
“So…” Jim said as he eased the van carefully back into the stream of traffic, “I still don’t know why you’re doing this. Helping us.”
“It’s what we do,” Eliot answered shortly.
Jim gave him a quick glance before concentrating on the road ahead of them again. “Even if you don’t know if we can pay you?” he wanted to know.
“Let’s just say we’re working on an alternate revenue stream,” Hardison said from behind him.
“What the hell is an alternate revenue stream?” McCoy asked, annoyed, but Hardison didn’t reply verbally, and Jim had to concentrate on the traffic around them and didn’t try to continue the conversation or pry for answers.
~*+*~
Leonard McCoy woke because someone was shaking his shoulder insistently, and he didn’t need to open his eyes to know who it was.
“Dammit, Jim,” he murmured through clenched teeth, but before he could add another word, Jim interrupted him.
“We’re here,” he said quietly.
McCoy forced his eyes open and shook his head dazedly. His entire body was tense and aching from spending so much time in the same position in the car. They hadn’t really stopped, except to fill up the car with gas, which Leonard found barbaric - didn’t these people know that this kind of fuel was destroying the environment? - and for food. Jim, Eliot and Hardison had taken turns driving, and when he wasn’t driving or sleeping, Hardison was typing on his old-fashioned, antique computer, which he treated like Scott treated the engines of the Enterprise.
Weird people, weird times, McCoy decided as he slowly climbed out of the van and stretched his muscles while blinking into the early sunlight.
San Francisco was sprawled out in front of them. The car was ticking softly in the morning sun - no other sun ever felt like this one did, McCoy thought, no matter what year and century they were in, and the thought comforted him as much as the warmth on his skin and bones.
The city was smaller than he remembered it from his Academy days, much smaller, the building weren’t as tall or as modern, but he could see the Golden Gate Bridge glittering beyond it, half-hidden by the fog he remembered all too well.
They had made it to San Francisco.
Continues here!
Author: mistokath13
Fandoms: Leverage/Stargate (both SG1 and SGA)/Star Trek XI/Warehouse 13
Characters James T. Kirk, Leonard McCoy, Montgomery Scott; Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison, Parker; Teal’C, John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagan; Artie Nielsen, Pete Lattimer, Myka Bering, Claudia Donovan
Pairings: none
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 17,692
Spoilers: Star Trek: the movie; Leverage: season three; Stargate: season 5 of Atlantis, Season 9 for SG1; Warehouse 13: season two episode 9
Warnings: blatant disregard for how non-disclosure and top secrecy for the US government (allegedly) works.
Disclaimer: All fandoms used belong to their respective creators - and that is, in neither case, mine.
A/N: I think this fic only works if you consider it slightly AU for SGA and Leverage and remove all Star Trek references ever made. Tons of Thanks and Tchocolate for Ginny, for all the awesome help, regarding all things numbers (distances, times, and ages), commas, and cat-induced misspellings, not to mention the great job betaing it.
Summary: A shuttle accident leaves Captain Kirk, Doctor McCoy and Mr. Scott stranded in the 21st century. Now they have to find their way back into their own time, and on the way, they make some new friends.
Part I: Prologue: The Future
It was quiet in space, and for once, it also was quiet on board of the Federation ship USS Enterprise.
Captain James T. Kirk exhaled soundlessly and allowed himself to sink back into the Captain’s chair, relaxing the muscles in his shoulders bit by bit. The nightshift on the Enterprise was slow-going and his crew was either asleep or working efficiently. They didn’t need him right now to make snap decisions that could potentially put their lives in danger, and he could sit back and let them do their jobs.
He could look out to the stars and allow his thoughts to wander, to the never-ending freedom of space, and how much political decisions and diplomatic missions had put restraints on that freedom.
“Captain.”
He didn’t look up at the greeting, but a small smile curved his lips up.
“Spock,” he replied and let his voice get a warm tone. He knew that human emotions still puzzled his Vulcan first officer and confused him, but he also knew that Spock appreciated and valued Jim’s friendship despite its rocky start, and he made the effort to let Spock in small ways know that Jim appreciated it as well.
“You have not retired for the night.”
It wasn’t a question, just a statement, an observation, but Jim made a small affirmative sound anyway.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he explained after a moment. Thoughts had plagued him and had kept him from getting his rest, thoughts and worries about Klingons and the last diplomatic mission they had been sent on.
“Maybe you should talk to Doctor McCoy,” Spock suggested after a moment of silence. “You are scheduled to join the mission to Sulak in seven point three hours.”
Jim nodded and slowly stretched his arms over his head before standing.
“You’re right,” he said. “I should go to bed.” He grinned at Spock, who, despite the late hour, was as impeccable-looking as always and had his hands crossed at the small of his back.
As usual, Spock’s only reaction to his grin was a raised eyebrow that looked as if Spock didn’t know exactly if he wanted to be vaguely disapproving or slightly amused by Jim’s blatant display of emotions.
He resisted the urge to clap Spock on the shoulder as he stepped past him, respecting his wish not to get touched. “Night, Spock.”
“Good night, Captain,” Spock replied, just before the turbolift’s doors closed between them.
~*+*~
“The planet Sulak has been surrounded by a thick asteroid belt for more than one hundred years,” Spock said as Jim fell in step with him. “You will be required to travel there by shuttle.”
Jim nodded. He’d learned as much in the mission briefing the day before. “Scotty and Bones are already waiting in the shuttle bay,” he answered and flashed Spock a grin. “You better keep my ship safe.”
“Of course, Captain.”
They walked around the corner and found Dr. Leonard McCoy and Mr. Scott already waiting for them. McCoy was shifting from one foot to the other and double-checking the bag he’d brought while frowning unhappily. Mr. Scott was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, but he nodded a greeting when he saw Jim and Spock.
“Ready for a little road trip?” Jim asked and nudged McCoy’s shoulder slightly.
McCoy only gave him a dark glare and shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other while adjusting the strap carefully.
“Let’s go, then,” Jim said and rubbed his hands. “Mr. Spock, the ship is yours. Treat her well while I’m gone.”
He entered the shuttle bay, quickly followed by Scott and McCoy, and did his best to ignore McCoy’s quiet grumbling. His restlessness from the night before was coming back, and his fingers itched to get this mission underway.
“Remind me again why we need to go to this planet,” McCoy growled as he fell into his seat.
“Sulak is supposed to have some old artifacts,” Scott said over his shoulders as his hands wandered over the shuttle’s controls and he initiated the pre-flight protocols. “And old technology.”
“Plus, they asked for our help,” Jim added. “An old immunity deficiency the people are suffering from. They need your expertise, which means you’re going, Bones, so don’t argue.”
McCoy grumbled a little more under his breath, and Jim settled in his own seat and smiled slightly as Scotty piloted the shuttle skillfully away from the Enterprise and toward the ring of debris that surrounded the planet Sulak.
“Have to be careful now,” Scott muttered and adjusted their speed slightly. “This is a dangerous area…”
The shuttle shuddered and from the corner of his eye, Jim saw how McCoy’s knuckles whitened on the armrests of his seat.
“Scotty?” he asked, a hint of alarm in his voice.
“Just a little…” Scott’s voice drifted off and the shuttle swerved to the side. For a split second, the gravity generators failed to keep up with the sudden move, and a panicked sound escaped McCoy’s throat.
“What’s going on?” Jim asked.
“Not sure, Captain,” Scott admitted. His fingers were flying over the console now, and his forehead was furrowed in concentration.
“What do you mean, not sure?” McCoy asked just as Scott forced the shuttle into a tight spiral, to avoid a collision with an asteroid.
“It means, I don’t know…” Scott trailed off again as an alarm sounded and he stared in disbelief at the screen. “It’s a rip in the space-time-continuum.”
“What?” McCoy asked, disbelief and shock in his voice.
“We’re getting sucked into a rip in the fabric of space and time,” Scott called out over his shoulder before Jim could say something.
“You mean…like Nero?” McCoy demanded to know.
“Yes,” Scott yelled just as the shuttle tumbled out of control and a loud, screeching sound swallowed the rest of his words. Sparks flew from the console and he yelped in pain, the sound unheard over the alarm klaxons.
Then - for an undetermined amount of time, darkness and silence.
Jim stirred slightly. “Scotty?” he asked, his voice rough. “Bones?”
“I’m here,” McCoy muttered. “I’m okay.” He shook his head slightly and pressed his fingertips to his own forehead. When he pulled them back, they were sticky, probably from his own blood. He would need light to confirm that, but the dizziness he was feeling already told him enough for a first diagnosis.
“Good,” Jim answered and reached for Scott’s shoulder. “Scotty?”
The engineer stirred slightly and groaned softly. “Captain?” he slurred. “Are we still alive?”
The lights came back on and revealed that Scott’s hands were reddened with burns, and McCoy pushed Jim out of the way to get a closer look.
“Looks like it,” Jim answered. “What happened, where are we?” He squeezed himself past Scott’s still dazed body and brushed his fingers over the controls. More sparks flew, and Jim jerked back with a bitten-off curse.
“Jim!” McCoy called out in alarm. “Dammit…”
“It’s okay,” Jim hastily said. “Just trying to find out where we are.” He grimaced. “And when.”
The computer beeped and spluttered, and Scott made a small sound of discomfort and reached for the controls again, waving McCoy off. “Just a moment, Captain,” he said, “based on the constellations we can find out where we are…and maybe also when.” He worked a few more seconds in silence before a sound of triumph escaped him.
“Captain?”
“Hmm?”
Scot brought a picture on the front screen, and both McCoy and Kirk leaned closer to inspect it.
“That’s not Sulak,” Jim commented dryly.
“No,” Scott agreed, his voice trembling. “This is Earth.”
“Oh, great,” McCoy said sharply. “If we beam down now, will we find people living in trees?”
“Bones, we can’t beam down, we’re in a shuttle,” Jim reminded him absent-mindedly, his eyes not moving away from the picture of the blue planet.
McCoy exhaled in a loud sigh. “What year?” he asked back resignedly.
“Late 20th century, maybe early 21st century,” Scott answered. “We’ve gone about two hundred years back.”
For a long moment, they all stared at the delicate-looking blue-and-green ball hanging in space in front of them, a planet they all called home, and yet, it wasn’t the home planet they knew.
This was a strange planet.
Finally, Jim stirred. “How do we get home?” he wanted to know quietly. “The shuttle?”
“No,” Scott answered immediately. “There is no way we can modify the shuttle to travel through time. It’s too damaged to do much more than what it’s doing right now.”
“That means…we’re stuck here?” McCoy asked.
“Not necessarily.” Scott shook his head and turned around to face them. “There might be another way.”
Jim shrugged with one shoulder. “Let’s hear it,” he encouraged.
Scott hesitated a split-second. “In the 20th and 21st century,” he started, “there was an organization that had control over an ancient device, the Stargate, that allowed them to travel to other planets…it was a top secret organization.”
“How does that help us?” McCoy interrupted impatiently.
“The Stargates…time travel was possible with them,” Scott answered. “They had barely started to explore that when most Stargates were destroyed in the middle of the 22nd century.”
“I’ve never heard of this organization or this device,” McCoy admitted.
“It was -and still is - highly classified,” Scott answered. “My great-great-great-great-grand uncle used to work for them…as their chief medical officer.” His lips twitched slightly at that.
“Okay.” Jim rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So, in order to get back home, we need to find this device - “ He raised both eyebrows. “ - which is top secret, and need to get the people in charge to let us use it?”
“In the right second, when there’s a sunflare that can transport us back in our time,” Scott added.
“A sunflare.” McCoy sounded unimpressed. “How should we know when there’s such a thing?”
“Our computers can tell us,” Scott answered. “The man we need to talk to is…” he hesitated and stared at the computer. “His name is Jack O’Neill.”
“Jack O’Neill?” Jim asked, surprised. “As in, General Jack O’Neill who was one of the most prominent supporters of the new space program that became active in twenty twenty-five?”
“Yes, that one,” Scott nodded. “Before he went to Washington, he worked at the SGC.”
“Okay,” Jim said again and tried to sort through his thoughts while acting as if this was something that happened every day to him. Rolling with the punches was the first thing he had learned when he’d taken over command of the Enterprise, and he used his experience now to keep everybody calm. “We need this device, and we need a sunflare - and in order to get the device, we need to convince General Jack O’Neill to let us use it?”
“Yeah, and how are you going to convince him to let three strangers get access to a top secret project?” McCoy tossed in.
Jim sighed. “I don’t know yet,” he admitted. “Maybe you can give him something, Bones?”
McCoy gave him a dark glare. “No,” he simply said. “I can not give him something.”
“Aw, come on, Bones,” Jim replied. “We need to find a way home here.”
“Find another way,” McCoy replied firmly. “I’ve sworn an oath. Dammit, Jim. I’m a doctor, not a lie detector.”
“I’m going to get closer to the planet,” Scott announced. “Maybe I can access the planet’s communication frequencies and find out more about the exact time we’re in.”
Jim nodded and leaned back into his seat. It was only a few seconds before the planet came closer and closer.
“I’ve got it,” Scott reported. “The year, and I have a pretty good idea where to find O’Neill. There’s only one problem.”
“Only one?” McCoy muttered.
Scott didn’t pay attention to him. “The shuttle was damaged in the rip -w e can get through the atmosphere, but it’ll be the last thing this one will be able to do, I’m sorry to say.”
Jim sighed. “We don’t have a choice,” he realized. “Get us down, Scotty.”
“As close to Washington, D.C., as you can,” McCoy grunted.
“Aye,” Scott murmured and guided the broken little ship down as gently as he could.
Part II: Washington, D.C.
“You sure nobody will find the remains of the shuttle?” Jim asked and moved his shoulders uncomfortably.
“Aye,” Scott nodded and fiddled with the zipper of his jacket. It was a faded red color and the sleeves were already slightly frayed out, but they had to blend into this time and that meant that they had to get rid of their uniforms and find clothes to wear. “It’ll explode as soon as you engage the self-destruct, Captain.”
Jim nodded thoughtfully and squared his shoulders. He hadn’t told Scott or McCoy where he’d gone after they’d landed the shuttle and had given them the order to try to hide as much of evidence that they had been there as possible. An hour later he’d returned, a twinkle in his eyes, a bundle of clothes in his hands and a wad of cash in one of the pockets of his faded, washed-out jeans.
“Good,” Jim said and pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his black leather jacket. “Any idea where we can find O’Neill?”
“His office.” McCoy was wearing jeans, a faded jeans jacket and a checkered blue and yellow shirt. He was holding his bag close and had brushed his hair into his forehead, over the small cut he’d sustained on the rough shuttle ride. “We have an address, but we don’t know how to get there.”
Jim nodded. “We’ll get there,” he promised. “And we’ll get home, Bones.”
He tried to sound convincing, to sound certain and as if there was no doubt whatsoever about their eventual return to their own time.
McCoy only glared at him, but Jim didn’t let his façade crack. He needed his old friend to believe in him and trust him to get them all back home safe and sound.
McCoy broke the eye contact first and glanced down again, and Jim reached out and squeezed his shoulder gently.
“We’ll figure it out, don’t worry about it,” he murmured. “Just remember, treat this like any mission to an under-developed planet. Don’t tell them where we’re from and what we know, and we’re fine. We don’t want to alter history, right?”
“Don’t worry about it?” McCoy repeated incredulously.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Jim affirmed and took a step back. “Where’s that office? Are we ready to go? Do we have what we need?”
Scott nodded and handed Jim a phaser and a communicator.
“Let’s go.”
Behind them, the shuttle exploded almost immediately. Seconds later, the three men had left the area. When the police arrived to investigate the explosion reported in by a jogger, they found no trace of what had happened here.
~*+*~
“How do we get inside now?” McCoy asked and crossed his arms over his chest while glancing up the façade of the building.
Jim followed his glance and shrugged. “Scotty?”
Scott shrugged. “Their security is really easy to crack,” he answered and pulled his tricorder out of his jacket. “I think we can simply sneak in, Captain.”
“Then let’s go,” Jim decided and squared his shoulders. “Lead the way, Mr. Scott, and we’ll follow you.”
Scott nodded and stared hard at the display of his tricorder while figuring out the best way to get undetected into the building. Once he’d found the best way in, he guided Jim and McCoy halfway around the building and then in.
“What is that?” McCoy muttered from the corner of his mouth at Jim when he saw the construction in front of them.
“A metal detector,” Jim murmured back. He grinned slightly, delighted that his interest in Earth history was paying off. “Remember, this is a time when a lot of weapons are based on metals.”
“Barbaric,” McCoy grumbled as he looked in mistrust and with barely hidden disgust at the machine.
Scott made a small sound at the back of his throat and touched a fingertip to the side of his tricorder.
“Again, hacking into this thing and manipulating it into turning a blind eye on our things should be easy,” he explained. “It’s rather us I’m more worried about. We don’t exactly fit in here.”
Jim nodded and glanced past the machine. “We need uniforms, or suits,” he realized.
Scott smiled slowly. “I have an idea, Captain.”
~*+*~
“Dammit, Jim,” McCoy hissed while buttoning the blue shirt and rolling up the sleeves. “I’m a doctor, not a cleaning robot.”
“Right now, you’re pretending to be a part of the cleaning stuff,” Jim replied calmly. “Come on, Bones. This is an adventure. I mean, how often do you get the chance to time travel?”
“Too often, apparently,” McCoy answered darkly, but he straightened and smoothed down his shirt. “I’m ready.”
This time they managed to slip past the metal detector and into the building itself undetected. Scott guided them through a maze of hallways, sometimes ducking into less populated side hallways and empty rooms until they finally reached the door that announced in bold, capital letters that they’d reached their destination: General Jack O’Neill’s office.
“Great,” McCoy murmured and yanked at his collar. “What now?”
“Now, we break in and wait for the General to come back to his office,” Jim answered calmly and inspected his fingernails with pretended casualness. “I really don’t think he’ll be here this late.”
“Did you figure out a way to convince him to give us access to his top secret pet project?” McCoy asked quietly while Scott ran the tricorder over the door.
“Er…” Jim started, but before he could either come up with a good plan quickly or admit that he had no idea, a shout of “Hey!” made them all look up and whirl around.
An armed guard stood at the end of the hall, his hand on his gun, and his attention focused on the three of them and the blonde woman dressed in the same blue uniform of the cleaning crew as them.
Jim blinked. He’d never seen this woman before, hadn’t seen her arrive, but there she was, glaring at Scott with something like annoyance on her face.
“Step back from the door!” the guard ordered, “And turn to the opposite wall! Your arms over your heads! All of you, now!”
He waved with his gun, never moving it far from pointing at one of them, and Jim exchanged a resigned look with Scott and did as he had been told. The others followed his example.
The blonde woman gave him a sideways look as she rested her gloved fingers lightly on her head. “Were you trying to break into the General’s office, too?” she asked with unmasked curiosity.
Jim grinned at her and shrugged slightly.
“Then it was you who tripped the alarm,” she stated before frowning. “What were you looking for, the airplane designs?”
“No,” Jim said and glanced over his shoulder. The guard still had his gun trained on them and was talking into a walkie-talkie. “We just want to talk to the General.”
“That’s stupid,” the woman told him. “Why did you try to break in just to talk to the guy? Especially when he’s not even there.”
Jim gave her another flirty smile. “Let’s just say he knows stuff that we’re interested in.”
“You mean the Area 52 project?” she asked and pressed herself more firmly against the wall.
Jim looked at Scott.
“Yes,” Scott answered, surprise coloring his voice.
“Well, then,” the woman said simply, “you can wait for him and I can get the plans I came for?”
Jim grinned, exposing all of his teeth. “Great,” he answered simply. “I’m Jim.”
The woman gave him a long careful look, as if she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do next, but then she exhaled through her nose and said, “Parker.”
“Nice to meet you, Parker,” Jim said, but before he could add another word, McCoy interrupted.
“I don’t believe this,” he hissed at Jim. “In case you’ve forgotten, there’s an old-fashioned projectile gun pointed at our heads, and even if they are very primitive, they can kill you, so please stop your damn flirting for one little moment…”
“That’s my friend, Bones,” Jim simply said and nodded slightly in McCoy’s direction. “He’s a little grumpy sometimes.”
Parker smiled suddenly. “Oh! Like Eliot! And he doesn’t like guns, too!” she said, and Jim, who had no idea who this Eliot person was, nodded anyway.
Parker’s hand moved to her ear.
“Not good,” she murmured. “The guard called for back-up. Uh-huh. We need to abort this mission, come back later. With a better plan.”
“What?” Jim asked confusedly. “Why?”
She gave him a look that told Jim exactly what she thought of his question; a look that reminded him of Lt. Uhura.
“In five minutes, this place will be swarming with armed forces,” she explained in short, quiet words. “By then, we need to be gone.” She gave Jim another look.
“Look,” she said with an eye roll when he didn’t react. “You can come, hang out and we’ll try again later.”
“You sure?” Jim asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, why not? I mean, you’re thieves too. Bad thieves, admittedly, but…” she shrugged and turned around.
Jim shook his head slightly and followed her example. They were both staring at the guard now, just in time to watch as a slightly smaller, stockier man with a ponytail and dressed in the same uniform they were wearing, crashed into the guard while keeping one arm pressed against his side protectively.
It was only seconds until the man had disarmed the guard and had left him unconscious.
“Eliot,” Parker said and took a step toward him. “What’s with your ribs?”
“Nothing,” the man growled. “Let’s go, Parker. Now.”
Parker, Jim thought with quiet amusement, had been right with one thing: this Eliot guy growled just as good as Bones did, and he had the same dark scowl on his face.
“Come on,” Parker said and tugged at Jim’s sleeve. “Let’s go.” Her voice sounded urgent, and Jim nodded and started following her.
“Your ribs.” Bones’ voice was quiet, but forceful, and he didn’t slow down as he talked. “They’re broken.”
“I said it’s fine,” Eliot growled. “Let’s go, man, unless you want to explain to the Air Force what you’re doing here, breaking into General O’Neill’s office.”
“You need someone to look at those ribs,” McCoy argued.
“Bones,” Jim said, the hint of a warning in his voice. “Not now.”
McCoy gave him another of his glares, but he snapped his mouth shut and silently continued following Parker.
Jim thought he could hear him grind his teeth, even from his current spot several steps away, and he turned to the man - Eliot - and flashed him his brightest grin.
“You should listen to him,” he said. “He’s a doctor, he knows what he’s talking about.”
Eliot growled again. “Not. Now.”
Jim decided to shut up and followed him out of the building and around a few corners and finally into a black, unmarked van, where he found himself face-to-face with a young, dark-skinned man who gave him one look and turned toward Parker.
“Hell, no,” he said. “We had this talk, girl. We talked about this.” He pointed an accusing finger at Jim. “You’re not supposed to pick up strays and bring them home, Parker.”
“But they needed help. We help people.” Parker sounded confused. “And they know about Area 52.” She frowned slightly. “They are weird - they have almost no money, and no credit cards, and that one -” she pointed at Scott - “said it’s easy to hack into the government computers. He could help you crack that thing.”
The young man opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly, but no sound escaped.
“And that one is a doctor. He can help Eliot’s ribs,” Parker added cheerfully.
The man threw his hands up in capitulation and climbed into the driver’s seat with no further comment.
“Weird period of time,” McCoy murmured, close to Jim’s ear, and Jim had to agree.
These were weird times, and weird people, and they weren’t any closer to their goal - access to the Stargate - than they had been before, but on the other hand, they, apparently, had found some friends, and thieves on top of that.
That whole day, Jim decided while leaning back against the wall of the van, mindful of the equipment stored there, could have gone better.
Much, much better.
~*+*~
One thing, Jim thought as he pressed himself tight against the wall and let Parker run the show, was for certain: the young blonde knew how to do her job. Jim had seen a lot of thieves in his time, including the quick-fingered Sallam who moved so quick that their movements couldn’t be seen by the naked human eye, but Parker was methodical and well-organized and knew exactly what she was doing. She also was as limber and athletic as an Orion slave girl.
“All clear,” Scott reported through the comms the man in the van, Hardison, had given them. Hardison had still been shooting them dark glares whenever he thought Jim and his men weren’t seeing it, but he wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was. He’d let them stay begrudgingly when Parker had insisted, and so had Eliot, who’d told McCoy that he could take care of his own ribs until Parker and Hardison had told him not to be an idiot. Only then had he allowed McCoy to take a look at his ribs and bind them tight. McCoy had complained the entire time about barbaric methods, and Eliot had looked at him warily, but when McCoy had been finished, Eliot had given him a brief nod before he’d hopped off the table and put his shirt back on.
“Okay, go, go, go,” Parker whispered furiously, and Jim and Eliot crept hastily around the corner.
“Three armed guards ahead,” McCoy’s voice reported. He’d stayed in the van that was, once again, parked just a short distance away, together with Scott and with Hardison.
“Yeah, I got them,” Eliot murmured back and unzipped his jacket.
“Need help?” Jim asked, but Eliot only flashed him a brief grin and disappeared on silent feet around the corner.
“Eliot is the best at what he does,” Parker whispered quietly.
“Oh yeah?” McCoy’s voice grumbled in their ears. “And what is what he does?”
Parker grinned and guided Jim around the corner. The three guards were unconscious on the ground, their hands tied behind their backs with plastic ties.
“This is what I do,” Eliot replied. He wasn’t even out of breath, Jim noticed, despite the broken ribs.
“Impressive,” he said and shook his head slightly.
With Hardison’s help, they made their way unerringly to the right office, and it took Parker only seconds to break in.
Jim was impressed. Parker knew exactly what she wanted and went for it with no hesitation, Before he even realized what she was doing, she was sitting behind General O’Neill’s desk and had booted up his computer. Jim caught himself and busied himself with the safe.
“Copying files,” Hardison reported over the comms, quickly followed by Scott’s muttered, “Aye.”
“We’ve got company,” Eliot cot in. “Hurry up, Parker!”
“One more minute,” she answered absent-mindedly.
“You don’t have one more minute,” Eliot hissed quietly.
“Almost got it,” she sing-songed, just as the safe clicked open under Jim’s careful hands.
“Huh,” he said. “Models of airplanes - the really old kind - and pictures. Looks like those have been drawn by pre-schoolers…this guy doesn’t really know what a safe is for.”
“What, no bars of gold?” McCoy muttered in his ear. “How disappointing.”
Parker chuckled. “We should rob a bank together,” she suggested before standing and pocketing the small drive Hardison had given her.
“Eliot,” Hardison warned, and Eliot growled.
“I see him,” he answered, just as Parker grabbed Jim’s arm and tugged him toward the door and out of the office. They only caught one glance at the huge, dark-skinned man in uniform and a black, knitted hat who was arching a disapproving eyebrow at Eliot, who looked almost small next to him.
Eliot looked up and rolled his shoulders, to loosen them. He grinned and lifted his arms into a defensive pose. The other man bowed his head for a split second. As soon as he straightened, Eliot attacked him in a flurry of movements.
Jim slowed his steps and looked over his shoulder. He couldn’t really distinguish between the two men anymore. All he could see was a tangle of arms and bodies. Eliot was quick on his feet, his hits and jabs sharp and precise, but his opponent was, despite his bigger mass, just as agile.
The fight looked to be equal on first glance, Jim thought, but the other guy had a wider reach than Eliot, and just as he watched, the man ducked under Eliot’s defense and managed to hit Eliot in the ribs.
He’d lost his hat somewhere along the line, and Jim could see gold shimmer on his forehead as the man came back up and hit Eliot again.
His fist connected with Eliot’s jaw, and Eliot stumbled, momentarily dazed by the force of the blow.
Jim decided that he’d watched for long enough without interfering and that Eliot could use some help, no matter if he wanted it or not.
The phaser in his pocket was familiar, and he didn’t need that long to set it to stun or to aim it at the fighters.
Eliot grunted, and Jim decided that he’d really heard enough. The only problem was that he couldn’t get a clear shot at the other man without Eliot getting in the way, but Jim didn’t think he could wait any longer without risking more than serious injury to Eliot.
He didn’t hesitate any longer.
“Hey,” he said, and when both fighters spared one quick glance in his direction, the beam of the phaser hit both of them. They broke down soundlessly, and Jim hastily put the weapon back into his pocket and raced forward, to get Eliot’s unconscious body.
Blood was tickling down Eliot’s face from a cut above his eyebrow, and Jim grabbed his arm and pulled. Eliot was heavy, and for a split second, Jim wished for Spock’s inhuman strength.
Parker slipped under Eliot’s other arm.
“We need to get out,” he told her as he wrapped Eliot’s arm over his shoulders. “Before this guy wakes up again or his friends realize that something is wrong.”
Parker simply nodded, and together they dragged Eliot out of the building.
~*+*~
“The thing you’re looking for is, according to the data Parker got from this guy’s computer, most likely in California,” Hardison explained and pointed his clicker at the screen.
“San Francisco,” Scott clarified.
“Oh, great,” McCoy murmured and pressed an ice pack into Eliot’s hand. “How do we get there?”
Hardison turned with his chair. “Flying?” he asked.
“No.” Parker shook her head. “These guys have no ID and almost no money.”
“How exactly do you know that?” Jim asked. This, he realized, was the second time Parker had mentioned that they had no ID or money, and he was starting to get worried that she had gone through his pockets, even if he hadn’t noticed it.
“Plus, we’re kinda…wanted,” Scott added.
“Faking IDs, man, that I can do,” Hardison muttered. “How wanted are you guys?”
“What’s wrong with fl -“ Jim started, but he quickly realized that it would be best if they interacted with as few people as possible. The fewer people even knew that they were here, the better. Getting exposed to a whole plane and a whole airport of people could spell disaster. He just shrugged - if he let Hardison think they were wanted, it could only help them, he figured.
“San Francisco is our goal, then,” Hardison sighed.
Parker cheered. “Road trip!”
Jim caught McCoy’s gaze. His old friend glared at him, and Jim suddenly remembered what he’d told Bones before they’d left the Enterprise. It seemed like it had happened an eternity ago - almost a lifetime ago, even if it was less than twenty-four hours for them.
They would get back home, and if it was the last thing Jim would do, he swore and forced himself to smile at Bones. He didn’t know yet how they would get there, but they would find a way.
They always found a way.
“Road trip,” Eliot sighed before glaring at Parker. “You are not driving!”
“Wait a second,” Jim interrupted and stood. “You want…to come along?”
Eliot, Hardison and Parker exchanged a look, but it was Parker who answered.
“I haven’t been to San Francisco for ages,” she said. “And you need our help. How else are you going to get there? You don’t have money.”
“What about those plane blueprints you were after?” Scott asked, but Parker just shrugged.
“That was just for fun,” she said with a dismissive shake of her head. “We’re in between jobs right now, and Nate and Sophie won’t be back for weeks.” She grinned widely. “Come on, guys, it’ll be fun!”
“Fun.” Eliot didn’t sound impressed. “That’s about 45 driving hours, plus stops for gas and food.”
“Sounds about right,” Hardison nodded and looked up from his computer to grin at them. “When do we leave?”
Part III: Road Trip: Highway to Hell
Forty-five driving hours, plus stops for gas and food, Eliot had said, but it was only a little over seventeen hours when Jim started to develop serious doubts that it had been a good idea to trust these people to get them safely to San Francisco.
He’d tried to hide his doubts, but McCoy knew him too well to get fooled by his constructed cheerful attitude. He didn’t say anything, but Jim could feel his worried looks like a tangible weight resting on his shoulders.
In addition to that, they were locked into a van for hours, and even if they couldn’t see Eliot and Hardison’s faces as they were taking turns driving, Jim was certain that the two men were suspicious of them and didn’t trust them, and Jim didn’t trust them either.
He’d borrowed Scott’s tricorder before they’d started their trip. He had, with no problems, found information about General Jack O’Neill and big parts of his career, but there hadn’t been anything about the three individuals they were travelling with right now.
He stretched his arms over his head and yawned before giving Parker a wide grin. He still didn’t know if Parker was a first- or a last name, or why Eliot and Hardison had insisted that she didn’t drive the car.
Parker scrunched up her nose, but she didn’t move otherwise and kept on staring at Jim. It was making Jim vaguely uncomfortable - he felt as if Parker knew something about him that he didn’t want other people to know.
Eventually, the car slowed. “Bathroom break,” Hardison announced over his shoulder, and Scott groaned appreciatively. Jim was glad, too - he needed to walk around, stretch his legs and work the kinks out of his back before they could continue their journey.
He nudged Scott slightly. “This would be the perfect time for you to invent beaming,” he muttered under his breath. “Save us some time here.”
Scott snorted and climbed out of the van as it came to a stop. “Do I look like MacGyver to you?” he asked darkly - apparently, his mood had suffered from the trip, as well.
Jim shrugged and let Scott pass before rolling his eyes at McCoy behind Scott’s back.
“Who?” he asked.
“Don’t know,” McCoy growled. “Probably some Scottish saint of some sort, how should I know? I’m a doctor, not a damn encyclopedia, Jim!”
He stomped off, and Jim sighed as he followed them at a more sedate pace.
“Hey,” he told Eliot, who had his hands buried deep in his pockets and who was glaring at a family of five who was piling out of a tiny car next to them. “Want me to drive?”
Eliot transferred his glare to him. “Can you even drive?” he asked.
Jim grinned again. “Yeah, sure,” he answered. “I’ve been driving since I was a kid.”
His memory flashed back to the day he’d crashed the old car of his stepfather , how he’d driven it into the canyon and had almost died while doing it.
“So did Parker,” Eliot growled. “Doesn’t mean anything.” Despite his words, he handed Jim the keys and Jim flashed him another grin he didn’t really feel.
He just wished that they had already reached San Francisco and a concrete lead on the Stargate; and even more, he wished that they’d already managed to find their way home.
Parker brushed past him, and Jim frowned. The move was vaguely familiar and reminded him of his last shore leave, how he and Bones had gone from one bar to the next, and how the Orion slave girl had sidled up to him and he’d woken up the next morning with a headache the size of the Klingon empire and all of his money missing.
“Parker,” he said, a hint of warning in his voice.
She froze. “Oops?” she offered and turned on her heels. She gave him a look through her bangs and a small, apologetic shrug before offering him his phaser back.
Jim felt hot and cold shudders run down his back - his words about not influencing this society and time came back, and a feeling of dread befell him. What if he’d change the course of history, simply by being careless and letting Parker steal his phaser?
“I’m sorry?” Parker asked, and Jim swallowed his panic and forced himself to think rationally about the entire situation.
“It’s okay,” he answered. “Don’t do it again, okay?”
“I’ll try,” Parker promised, and Jim nodded and pushed the phaser back deep into his pocket. There was no need making a lot of fuss about it now and would only pull attention to where Jim didn’t want it - maybe, he hoped almost desperately, she would forget about what she’d taken from him and not think about it anymore.
Two hundred years, he told himself. Whatever happened here between him and Parker, it wouldn’t make any difference over the distance of two hundred years.
“That wasn’t the first time you’d gone through my pockets, right?” he asked resignedly, and Parker’s shoulders slumped slightly.
The damage already had been done, Jim thought, and Parker hadn’t told anyone about their strange weapons yet - if she’d even realized that the phaser was a weapon. Making a scene around it now for being a thief wouldn’t make her stop stealing, and it would be unfair, especially since he and his men had profited already from her expertise and most likely would do so again before they reached San Francisco.
“Don’t do it again,” he murmured softly, but he made sure to keep the threat and displeasure out of his voice. He didn’t want Eliot to get involved into this discussion.
McCoy and Scott came back. McCoy gave the keys in Jim’s hand a quick glance and sighed. “God save us all,” he muttered and climbed back into the van.
Parker took the opportunity and slipped away from Jim, to stop next to Eliot and tug slightly at his sleeve. She tilted her head to the side almost imperceptibly.
Eliot frowned at her, but he followed Parker to the other side of the car and a few steps away. Jim, who had caught the wordless conversation, swallowed thickly. He had a pretty good idea what Parker was going to tell Eliot right now.
“Everything okay?” Scott whispered, and Jim nodded firmly.
He had to trust that Parker would keep her word, or he had to shoot them all and hope that he and his men could find their way without help, and he wasn’t quite willing to do that yet.
“Yeah,” he answered softly. “Just…keep your eyes open.”
~*+*~
Eliot stared at Parker’s hunched shoulders.
“What?” he finally growled.
Parker didn’t turn around to face him. “Can I drive?” she asked.
“What?” Eliot frowned. “No!”
“Hm.” Parker finally turned around and looked at him with wide eyes. Eliot wasn’t quite sure if something had scared her or if she was playing with him, but he was willing to think that she really had been spooked by something. He was willing to put his money on this stranger - Jim, the others called him, or Captain - as the reason for Parker’s suddenly more than weird behavior. Hardison had ran all three of them through his facial recognition program and had checked the FBI’s most wanted list, plus the most-wanted lists of several other countries.
“Man,” he’d told Eliot, “I found you, and if I handed your ass over, I’d be rich…richer than I already am, but not a trace of them, El. They’re hiding something.”
Eliot tended to agree with Hardison there. He hadn’t been able to identify the big guy’s fighting style at first, the one he’d fought the night they’d broken into General O’Neill’s office, but he knew that the government was involved in some top secret projects and he’d figured that the man had been involved in one of those projects. The fighting style had been very distinctive, even if he’d needed some time to figure out where he knew it from.
Plus, there had been some more weird things about these strangers - their inability to deal with traffic, for example, or the Doc’s muttering about “bone mending” and “barbaric methods” as he’d stitched up Eliot and had bound his broken ribs. He’d done something with that computer thing he was carrying around - a computer Hardison hadn’t been able to identify or hack - and had given Eliot a shot of something, without asking first, that had numbed the pain without influencing him otherwise before ordering Eliot in a gruff voice to take it easy for a few days or week.
Eliot had broken ribs before. He knew they needed time to heal, and yet, it had taken him only a few days this time to feel better.
“Do you think we should call Nate?” Parker asked him now hesitantly. “These guys…I don’t trust them, Eliot. They’re hiding something - something big.”
Eliot shook his head. “No,” he said after a moment of thinking. “We can take care of this on our own. We’ll get them to San Francisco and then, we go home. We helped them enough.”
Parker looked at him doubtfully. “You think they’re from the government?” she wanted to know. “Or the military?”
Eliot shrugged. “Some kind of military, maybe,” he admitted his suspicions. “But no idea where they’re from. I’ve never seen anything like that…”
“Their weapons.” Parker frowned. “He used his weapon to stun you, but it wasn’t a taser. I checked.”
There was no doubt who this he Parker was referring to was.
“I mean, he probably saved your life - that guy with the golden sign on his forehead was going to smash in your head, Eliot,” Parker continued.
Eliot growled in annoyance. He had to admit that Parker was probably right, as little as he liked to say, or even think, so, and so far, the strangers hadn’t really done anything to get them in danger yet.
Yet.
“We’ll get this job done,” he said. “Just…be careful, Parker.”
She nodded, and slipped back around the corner of the car.
~*+*~
Hardison took his sweet time returning, and when he did, he was carrying a six pack of orange soda and a bag of gummifrogs. Eliot gave him a glare that Hardison ignored with the experience of years of working with Eliot, and Eliot took the passenger seat in front and let Hardison squeeze in the back with Parker, Scott and McCoy.
Jim gave him a grin as he pushed the keys in the ignition and started the car, but Eliot could see that the grin was getting brittle and started to crumble around the edges. Jim Kirk didn’t like the situation he was in any more than Eliot did.
“So…” Jim said as he eased the van carefully back into the stream of traffic, “I still don’t know why you’re doing this. Helping us.”
“It’s what we do,” Eliot answered shortly.
Jim gave him a quick glance before concentrating on the road ahead of them again. “Even if you don’t know if we can pay you?” he wanted to know.
“Let’s just say we’re working on an alternate revenue stream,” Hardison said from behind him.
“What the hell is an alternate revenue stream?” McCoy asked, annoyed, but Hardison didn’t reply verbally, and Jim had to concentrate on the traffic around them and didn’t try to continue the conversation or pry for answers.
~*+*~
Leonard McCoy woke because someone was shaking his shoulder insistently, and he didn’t need to open his eyes to know who it was.
“Dammit, Jim,” he murmured through clenched teeth, but before he could add another word, Jim interrupted him.
“We’re here,” he said quietly.
McCoy forced his eyes open and shook his head dazedly. His entire body was tense and aching from spending so much time in the same position in the car. They hadn’t really stopped, except to fill up the car with gas, which Leonard found barbaric - didn’t these people know that this kind of fuel was destroying the environment? - and for food. Jim, Eliot and Hardison had taken turns driving, and when he wasn’t driving or sleeping, Hardison was typing on his old-fashioned, antique computer, which he treated like Scott treated the engines of the Enterprise.
Weird people, weird times, McCoy decided as he slowly climbed out of the van and stretched his muscles while blinking into the early sunlight.
San Francisco was sprawled out in front of them. The car was ticking softly in the morning sun - no other sun ever felt like this one did, McCoy thought, no matter what year and century they were in, and the thought comforted him as much as the warmth on his skin and bones.
The city was smaller than he remembered it from his Academy days, much smaller, the building weren’t as tall or as modern, but he could see the Golden Gate Bridge glittering beyond it, half-hidden by the fog he remembered all too well.
They had made it to San Francisco.
Continues here!