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incredibly so
by Raven

PG-13, gen. Incredibly silly snippet written for Sarah, who wanted SG-1 to end up at the 4077th.

It began as part of one of Daniel’s many lectures entitled Teaching Teal’c About American Culture. Teaching Teal’c about American culture had originally been Jack’s job, until a brief altercation which had culminated in most of the people on Level Nineteen listening breathlessly to Dr Jackson yelling, “Jack, he’s the former First Prime of Apophis and he’s a hundred years old! He left behind his family, his friends, his entire life to help us! And you’re teaching him that the ultimate in Tau’ri culture is ice hockey, the Jerry Springer Show and the fucking National Enquirer!”

Jack had stared, open-mouthed, for a few seconds, and finally said, “Daniel, I think you just blew your nice-guy image.”

After that, Daniel had taken over. Jack monitored things as subtly as he knew how, making sure to actually take Teal’c to a few hockey games, and although he moaned to Sam that a man whose life-work was the study of ancient cultures shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the year 2000, more often than not he left Daniel to it.

Things started coming to a head just after the team’s return from their brief visit to 1969. Teal’c was interested to know what, exactly, Michael and Jenny had been fleeing from.

“The draft,” said Daniel absently, concentrating on a translation, but at the (relative) look of confusion on Teal’c’s face, he had swung round on his chair and attempted to explain fully.

After an explanation of Vietnam, they went on to Korea. “Although that one wasn’t really a war,” Daniel explained incoherently. “It was a police action.”

Teal’c raised an eyebrow. Jack, upon discovering the topic of the conversation, was surprised that Daniel knew so much about twentieth-century history. “Thought it had to be a thousand years old and made of terracotta before it turned you on,” he said and vanished before Daniel could be sarcastic at him.

Later, Sam claimed it totally wasn’t her fault, even though it was so soon after the last time. It just happened.

The mission began as normal. They stepped through the gate, and then out the other side.

“Where are we?” asked Daniel, just as Jack said, “Oh, I really hate it when this happens.”

They were standing in the midst of barren scrubland, with the occasional straggly bush but otherwise no signs of life.

“I thought P3X-737 was supposed to be, and I quote, a ‘lush green rainforest with research possibilities’?”

“Yes, sir,” said Sam distractedly, “I thought so too.”

Not listening to them, Daniel turned around. And noticed something startling. “Um...” he said. “Um, we may have a problem.”

When Jack realised the nature of said problem – to whit, a vanished Stargate – he found no alternative but to say, “Oh, I really hate it when this happens,” and kick a rock.

After some disagreement and a lot of sarcasm, the general consensus that they ought to try and find some signs of civilisation, so accordingly they set off, walking down a dirt track that might possibly lead them somewhere.

At length, just when night was falling, they came to a small village of tents. They were all green. “Nomads,” speculated Daniel. “Indigenous civilisation?”

“Oh, look, people,” was Jack’s assessment.

There were people. There were also several army jeeps, a helicopter pad with a picnic spread out on it, a large corrugated-iron building with a red cross painted on the roof, and a man in a red robe coming up to meet them.

Teal’c, who always took pains to remember as much as possible of Daniel’s lectures, started to say something. Daniel cut him off. “You’re right,” he said, and sighed.

Hawkeye skidded to a halt. “Salutations,” he said solemnly.

And then he took them down to see his commanding officer, because he was in the army and that was what they did.

“Oh, I hate it when this happens,” said Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Blake some time later. “Pierce, who are these people? Are you folks in the army?”

“No,” Jack told him. “Air Force.”

“What year is this?” Sam asked.

“1950,” Hawkeye told them. “Excellent vintage.”

Behind him, Jack was trying not to bang his head against the wall. “Carter,” he said in a furious whisper, “this isn’t another of those killing-your-grandfather things, is it?”

She nodded. “I’m afraid so. If it helps, I don’t think we’re going to do too much damage if we can get home fairly quickly.”

“In the absence of a Stargate?” Daniel put in.

She blinked. “That is a problem.”

Hawkeye heard that. “Henry, did you hear that, there’s a problem. We solve all our problems the same way round here,” he told SG-1, and then turned back to his commanding officer. “Henry!”

Henry handed over the bottle with bad grace. “Please go away,” he told them all, and with a sigh: “There’s going to be so much paperwork.”

Jack rolled his eyes as they trudged back into the compound. “Let’s get some things straight,” he said. “Where are we?”

“Korea, 1950,” Daniel told him. “In a M*A*S*H unit.”

“How do you know?”

Daniel stared at him impassively. “I just do.”

Jack let that go. “All right, all right. How do we get back?”

“Find our way back to the Stargate.”

“Where is it?”

“I don’t know,” Daniel said. “It was in Washington in 1969. Could be anywhere in 1950.”


“So,” said Hawkeye, who had been walking some distance ahead of them, “who are you people, really?”

“I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill,” Jack told him, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to say this much. “That’s Major Carter.”

Hawkeye raised his eyebrows. “Regular army? Sorry, Air Force?”

“Not me,” Daniel told him. “I’m Daniel Jackson, and that’s... um... Murray.”

Hawkeye stared at Teal’c. “Murray?”

Teal’c stared back. “Indeed.”

“We’re civilians,” said Daniel quickly, and blinked as Hawkeye beamed at him, still swinging Henry’s bourbon bottle from hand to hand.

“You see,” Hawkeye said, “we don’t go in for the army much round here.”

“I wonder why?” Daniel asked acerbically, and was glared at by Jack.

Hawkeye appeared not to have heard. “It gets in the way of alcohol consumption.”

“Oh,” said Jack. He appeared to be mostly speechless.

“Where are you from?” Hawkeye asked. “More to the point, why did you leave there to come here?”

“We’re from... Colorado,” said Sam hesitantly, seeing that her commanding officer was afraid of killing his grandfather, “and we came here sort of by accident.”

“That’s what they all say,” Hawkeye remarked. “I got this envelope from the government and accidentally opened it, so I had to accidentally follow the instructions and end up at the glorious Double Natural, armpit of the universe.”

Before Sam could formulate a reply, a voice close at hand howled, “Pierce!”

Hawkeye turned. “Hello, Frank. You’re foaming at the mouth again.”

Frank was. He was finding it difficult to talk through the clouds of white foam.
With a great effort, he managed to growl, “You... soap... toothbrush!”

Hawkeye smiled, and stepped back to reveal the newcomers. As intended, Frank forgot all about the soap on his toothbrush and instead concentrated on the four people in vaguely military uniforms who might turn out to be Very Important.

“Who is this?” Jack asked. He couldn’t help himself. Despite his sudden obsequious manner, Frank hadn’t finished getting dressed yet and was still dripping soap foam.

“This is Frank Burns,” Hawkeye told them.

“Ferretface and waste of space,” put in another voice. Trapper stuck his head out of the Swamp. “Who are these people?”

“Galactic explorers from fifty years in the future,” Daniel told him blandly.

Trapper grinned. “Should have known. Regular army?”


“Have a drink.”

“This is surreal,” Daniel complained when he was handed the Martini glass.

“Ya think?” Jack told him, and took the glass away from him.

“You know,” said Sam worriedly, “I think we may have started to cause some damage to the timeline.”

“Why?” asked Daniel guardedly.

“Because there’s an Asgard standing over there.”

Before the others could say anything, they were all engulfed in a blaze of light. Jack had just enough time to discern the red-and-purple interior of an Asgard ship before yet another burst of light flared out, and he landed on the Stargate ramp with a thump. In front of him was a familiar small figure. Thor blinked his large eyes.

Jack looked up at the control room – General Hammond, good, he was bald, also good – and sighed. Temporal instability seemed to have resolved itself for now.

“Everyone okay?” he asked. “Carter, Daniel, Teal’c?”

“I’m okay,” Sam replied.

“As am I,” added Teal’c.

“Let’s never do that again,” was Daniel’s response.


Thor blinked in surprise. “It is is most displeasing to me when events of this nature occur.”

Jack turned round. “What events?”

And found himself face-to-face with Hawkeye Pierce, who was standing on the ramp, swaying a little and staring at the Stargate, the armed defence team, the control room window, and blinking in a similar fashion to Thor.

“Oh,” he said, after a while.

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