Days of Beer and Dandelions

By Karibou

Disclaimer: Not mine. (C'mon, if I owned them, would there ever have been a Pete?) Gecko, MGM, etc., etc., are the unchallenged masters of this universe. I just like to visit and tinker with the space-time continuum.

Summary: One shot. My entry in the S-J Ficathon (several months late – sorry!). Pure fluff with a lovingly humorous tribute to my roots thrown in for fun. The team's latest quest to save the universe leads them to an unexpected and exotic destination…

Rating: K+

Set in Season 7, post-Grace, pre-Chimera. (Right before the wheels came off the wagon.) I took a few liberties with the President's character at the end, but I think you'll forgive me.

Oh, and this is proof that I can write something in less than 80,000 words.


Chapter One

Sneezing loudly, Daniel blinked his red, watery eyes and silently cursed his rotten luck. Looking around the alien planet, he was forced to admit that the scenery was beautiful; lush, flowering vegetation colored the landscape for as far as the eye could see. It was a tropical paradise – and absolute hell on his allergies.

"Can't you take something for that?"

The dry, somewhat amused question didn't annoy Daniel, though it was clearly aimed at poking fun at him. After seven years of working with the man, Daniel was far too used to Jack O'Neill's quirky humor to be bothered by it anymore. Sighing, he replied in a patient tone. "Yes, Jack. I take antihistamines every day to fend off hay fever. Unfortunately, they seem to be somewhat ineffective in dealing with whatever's growing on this planet."

Jack regarded his friend quietly for a moment. Then, with a carefree shrug, he turned back around. "Sucks to be you," he quipped.

Making a face at his friend's back, Daniel was quick to notice a grin being smothered on the lovely face of the team's second-in-command. "Sure, Sam – go ahead and laugh. After all, this is almost as funny as the time on P5X-262 when you guys all ate that bad native meat-paste and wound up with food poisoning."

Sam's face instantly grew serious – and a bit green. "Jeez. You just had to remind me of that before lunch." Stifling a shudder, she swallowed thickly. "I don't think I kept solid food down for a week after that incident."

From his position a few steps ahead, Jack snorted. "None of us did, except for good ol' Danny-Boy – who neglected to mention that in certain tribal cultures, surviving violent illness is just another rite of passage." Daniel could hear the glare in his friend's voice. "He just kept that little tidbit of information to himself and passed on the moldy pâté – leaving more for the rest of us, of course."

Daniel was about to reply when Teal'c's somber voice interrupted. "In fact, O'Neill, you are incorrect. We were not all ill for weeks after that incident. I was able to ingest a normal diet within several hours of showing symptoms."

Jack shook his head. "Yeah, well, that's because Junior was able to suck the toxins out of your body." He winced. "I think that was the only time in my life I actually wished for a symbiote."

Sam nodded vehemently. "Even Janet and her talent for miracle working couldn't do much for us on that one." Making a face, she shivered again. "Give me a gunshot or a broken bone anytime over weeks of hurling my guts up."

Ahead of the rest of the party and safely out of visual range, Jack allowed an affectionate smile to flit over his features. There weren't many women who could claim something so outrageous with any amount of authority, but Samantha Carter was definitely in a position to make such a declaration. And he couldn't help feeling a little proud of the fact that his gutsy second-in-command would prefer a wallop of honest pain over the slow torture of the stomach flu. It sounded suspiciously like something he might say.

Behind him, the easy, teasing chatter continued. Anyone witnessing the scene would clearly see the warm, family-like bond that SG-1 shared. As the sound of his teammates' laughing banter filled his ears, Jack found himself feeling relaxed and content – two emotions which had been sadly lacking in his life before he entered the stargate program. He'd lost much in his life, some of which was irreplaceable. But the bond he shared with the three people beside him filled many of the dark corners in his soul which he'd once thought hopelessly empty.

And at the center of that bright spot was one Major Samantha Carter.

Maybe it was his age creeping up on him, but at moments like this, when the mission was routine and the conversation lighthearted, he often found himself reflecting on the ways his life had changed since his first (somewhat confrontational) meeting with his favorite blond spitfire. Though he would have been the last person in the universe to admit it at the time, she'd thoroughly impressed him with her willingness to stand up for herself in a room full of testosterone and superior officers. Later, as weeks and months passed, Jack had found his respect for her growing exponentially as she doggedly accepted the discomfort and chaos of off-world life with quiet dignity and staunch determination. It wasn't long before he began to see her as a damn fine soldier, not just a brainiac scientist.

And it wasn't long after that before he began to see her as a damn fine woman.

That, of course, was where the trouble really began. Because, ever since the moment his silly heart realized that it's deepest desire was standing smack-dab in the shoes of his second-in-command, his personal life had been one, tangled mess of dead-end streets. He couldn't pursue a relationship with her because of the frat regs. He couldn't get around the frat regs without resigning his commission. He couldn't resign his commission because the universe depended on soldiers like him. And to be the best soldier, he needed his braniac second-in-command. So he couldn't even distance himself from her professionally. He was, in a nutshell, pretty much screwed. Most days, it was tolerable. But some days, it was sheer torture.

As the team approached the camp that had been established several weeks ago by SG-17, Jack decided to put thoughts of his no-win situation out of his head. A pragmatist at heart, he realized that it did little good to dwell on it. Taking a deep breath, he slowed his pace and allowed his colleagues to catch up to him.

"Teal'c, you can check in with Major Greenborne and see what sort of perimeter they've got set up. Daniel, you might as well jump right in and have a look at this artifact they've uncovered." Pausing, he regarded his second-in-command somewhat bemusedly. "And Carter, I guess you should probably do… something scientific." Truly, he had no idea what her priorities for the mission were.

Sam fixed him with a familiar look of patient amusement. "Yes, sir. I'll be analyzing the low-level EM radiations which seem to be emanating from the ruins."

Nodding briskly, he gestured toward the camp. "Of course you will." Looking pleased to have delivered everyone safely to their assigned tasks, he dropped his pack to the ground with a satisfied thump.

"Ah, Jack?" Daniel's voice held the hint of a smile.

"Yes, Daniel?" Jack wasn't sure he liked the tone of his teammate's voice.

"Just what will you be doing?"

For a moment, O'Neill appeared to be completely at a loss. Then, with a brilliant sparkle in his dark brown eyes, he replied succinctly.

"Supervising, of course."

Turning around, Jack pretended not to notice the three pairs of rolled eyes which followed in the wake of his comment.


Several hours later, Sam found herself idly tapping the LED screen of a portable oscilloscope. It had been a thoroughly uneventful afternoon. Teal'c and the Colonel had disappeared to parts unknown shortly after arrival in camp, leaving her and Daniel to their work. Honestly, she wished she could be more excited about the mission, but archaeology was Daniel's thing. The science involved with this discovery was thoroughly uninteresting. A low-level electromagnetic field was emanating from somewhere within the ruins, but that alone wasn't very remarkable. While it was possible that some sort of alien power source was generating the field, but it was just as likely that the readings were the result of something organic or naturally occurring. Under ordinary circumstances, even the less-exciting alternatives might have piqued her interest, but she found that her heart was simply not in her work today.

It was, unfortunately, rather tied up with a certain off-limits Colonel.

Exhaling in sheer frustration, Sam unceremoniously dropped the expensive piece of equipment back onto the makeshift lab counter in her research tent. Much as she wanted to forget all thoughts of her forbidden feelings, she found doing so impossible. It wasn't that she didn't understand the futility of her longing – she definitely got how impossible things were. Sam was usually a practical, determined, down-to-earth kind of person and found dwelling on hopeless situations unproductive. There was just one problem.

In only two short days, the most dreaded, dark, miserable holiday on the calendar would be upon her.

Valentine's Day.

Wincing in spite of herself, Sam faced the thought with all the enthusiasm of a condemned man approaching a firing squad. For years, the silly Hallmark holiday had come and gone, bringing with it empty feelings of loneliness and rejection. She knew it was ridiculous to feel that strongly about something so arbitrary and unimportant, but every time February 14th showed up on her desk calendar, she found herself feeling like the shy, geeky adolescent who never got a valentine while other girls were showered with flowers and chocolate.

It was sad, but even though Sam was now a successful, important woman with one of the most amazing jobs in the universe, somewhere deep down, she was still that quiet, lonely girl waiting for a heart-shaped box of candy which never seemed to materialize.

Swallowing a sudden lump of emotion, she tried to forget the futility of her feelings. Because now, instead of being ignored by the object of her infatuation, she was forced to endure something much worse. Constantly in close proximity to him, Sam was reminded of everything she couldn't have on a daily basis. It was maddening. Even if he wanted to send her a valentine, he couldn't. Hell, he could be court-martialed and sent to jail if he did.

How depressing was that?

Rubbing her temples in sheer frustration, Sam was about to give up on her research and seek out something more cheerful to occupy her time, when suddenly every instrument on her lab bench seemed to light up at once.

Eyes widening, she started to process the data in front of her with the lightning-quick efficiency she was renown for. As her mind began to sort out and organize the information, a frown worried the spot just between her eyebrows. In a matter of moments, a dark but familiar thought flitted across her consciousness.

This can't be good.


Three hours later, the four members of SG-1 stepped tiredly back through the stargate. Their faces showed the combined strain of too much walking and a large dose of uncertainty. Trudging down the embarkation ramp, Jack's expression was a mixture of fatigue and frustration.

"SG-1. This is unexpected." Hammond's voice held a note of concern as he approached his flagship team.

With a familiar wry smile, Jack plodded toward the General and sighed loudly. "By now, I'd think you'd expect the unexpected from us."

Ignoring his teammate's glib sarcasm, Daniel quickly got down to business. "There were some complications at the camp."

Hammond's eyes sharpened. "What kind of complications?"

"Oh, you know. The usual." Jack pulled off his cap and ran a hand through his already-tousled silver hair. "Accidental encounter with alien technology. Impending doom. And a general lack of understanding thrown in for good measure."

Sensing Hammond's growing impatience with Jack's flippant attitude, Sam stepped forward to fill in the blanks. "Daniel had a little, um, mishap at the camp. He seems to have somehow activated a communication device buried in the ruins. We're not sure what message it's sending, or who it's trying to contact, but there's definitely a beacon of some sort sending out encrypted information."

Hammond's eyebrows shot up. "How powerful is this communication device?"

Sam shifted nervously. "Very powerful. The only reason I returned was because I'm pretty sure I can pick up the signal here. Hopefully, I'll have better luck analyzing it in my lab than I did in the field."

Exhaling slowly, the General did not look pleased. "I assume that SG-17 is aware of the potential danger."

Jack nodded. "Yup. They've increased their security measures. Teal'c and I offered to stay behind and help out, but Greenborne thought we'd better make sure Carter and Jackson got back here in one piece, seeing as they're probably the only hope we have of fixing this mess."

Hammond nodded. "I'd say that's a fair assessment. As soon as you've been cleared by Doctor Frasier, you can get to work immediately."

Carter nodded. "Yes, sir."

Taking in the ragged and defeated looks on the faces of his flagship team, Hammond tried to keep his own apprehension contained. At this point, there was really only one thing he could say.

"Dismissed."