The challenge was:
- Someone must say these exact words: "If rabbits eat grass then goats will expire rapidly."
- The story must include a Red Herring (an actual Herring).
- There must be exactly 6 references to Tom Jones.
- The phrase "Bread is good for you" must be used a minimum of four times.
- Jack has to make something using a fairy liquid bottle and sticky back plastic.
- A pocket handkerchief must feature somewhere.
Lifting the corner of the cloth, he peered out into the warehouse. The huge stone ring that stood in the centre of the warehouse was filled with something blue which rippled gently like the sea on a calm day. Intrigued, he observed the phenomenon. A man stepped through it, wearing a funny hat. And then a woman, although strangely she was dressed like the man, in trousers. Next came a younger man, who gazed around him in amazement, followed by a black man who seemed to be frowning. After deciding things were a little TOO interesting, the boy shrank back into his den. SG-1, meanwhile, were enthralled by the contents of the warehouse. Or at least, Jackson was. Picking up some pottery, he turned it in his hands. O'Neill shadowed his every move, obviously worried about something.
"Daniel, try not to touch anything."
"But this collection is... amazing!"
O'Neill frowned, "Well, obviously it belongs to someone. Look, I'm getting de ja vu. Big warehouse full of cool stuff, you know what I mean?"
Putting the pot down, Jackson stared at O'Neill. "And how exactly is a pot going to hurt us?"
"All I'm saying is, lots of bad things happen to us. It wouldn't be the first time. IT'S NOT UNUSUAL."
The boy, although he was hidden by the cloth, had neglected to extinguish his candle. Teal'c noticed the glow.
"O'Neill, I believe we are being observed."
"By whom?"
"I do not know."
Hearing footsteps, the boy blew out the candle. He was too late. Teal'c crouched down and gently drew back the material.
"Do not be afraid. I will not harm you."
Realising Teal'c might not be having a particularly calming effect, Carter crouched beside him.
Smiling, she added, "We're friends. You should be careful with candles in places like that. If you're not careful you could be BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE. Are all these things yours?"
After a moment of doubt, the boy smiled back at her. "No, silly, they're my father's."
The boy scrambled out from underneath the furniture.
Jackson stepped forward, waving his arms frantically. "He owns all this?"
"He collects things. He collects things from all over the world." The boy spoke quickly, hardly leaving any spaces between his words. "You came through the Stargate. How did you make it work? Father couldn't make it work."
Adjusting his cap, O'Neill looked down at the boy. "Your Dad knows about the Stargate?"
"Yes, he worked out the ancient language, it's a Gate to travel amongst the stars, you press the buttons on the other device and it takes you to other worlds."
Leaning towards Jackson, O'Neill whispered, "Looks like we've found you some competition...!"
The boy tugged Carter's sleeve frantically. "Do you want to meet my father? He'd like to meet you."
Gesturing to Carter to take the lead, O'Neill agreed, "Yeah, why not. Do you have a name, kid?"
"Arthur, my name's Arthur."
"I'm Jack, this is Teal'c, Daniel and Samantha."
Her hand being gripped tightly by little Arthur, Carter quickly added, "But you can call me Sam."
Opening the door, the team stepped outside . It was dusk, and a man was walking along with a pole, lighting the gas lamps. Carriages travelled up and down the street, the horses expelling little white clouds as they breathed in the chill air.
Rubbing his hands together briskly, O'Neill commented, "BABY, IT'S COLD OUTSIDE."
As SG-1 surveyed the scene, a small but swift buggy dashed past. Arms reached out from the fast-moving vehicle, taking hold of Arthur. Within moments he was gone. O'Neill tried to hail a cab, but it was too late. The buggy had vanished. Frustrated, they walked back into the warehouse.
By the door Jackson noticed a business card on the floor. Bending down, he retrieved it. After looking at it for a few seconds, he started to grin maniacally. O'Neill noticed his strange countenance.
"Daniel, are you feeling alright?" he said.
Still grinning, Jackson thrust the card into O'Neill's hands. Soon it was clear why he was grinning. The card was headed "Sherlock Holmes". Underneath was an address.
O'Neill looked up to see Jackson staring at him, his face still fixed in that peculiar grin.
"Cut it out, Daniel," he said. "I think we should pay this guy a visit. Perhaps we can get his help to find little Arthur."
Carter looked sad, "If only I could have held onto his hand a little tighter..."
"You'd have either ripped his arm off or been dragged along the street. Come on Sam, you can't blame yourself. Let's get him back, shall we?"
Teal'c walked up to O'Neill, and looked at him for an explanation. He was handed the card, and stood there frowning intently at it. Then he sidled over to Jackson.
"Is it humorous because it is an unusual name?" he asked.
"No, Teal'c, he's... ah... he's a famous literary character," Jackson replied.
"And we are trying to enlist the assistance of a fictional person?"
"Yes, Teal'c, though when you put it like that it doesn't sound like such a good idea."
Outside, O'Neill was looking for clues. If he was going to pay a visit to one of the most famous detectives in history, he was not going to turn up empty handed. Turning to look in the direction the buggy had come from, he saw a cat. Stealthily, he approached it.
"WHAT'S NEW, PUSSY CAT?" he whispered.
The cat gave him a funny look before dashing off rather energetically. O'Neill was able to ascertain that the thing the cat had been so interested in was, in fact, a red herring. Literally, a red herring. Digging a sandwich bag out of his pocket, he discarded the cheese and pickle sandwich and put the herring inside. Then he stepped out in front of a cab, bringing it to an abrupt halt.
SG-1 clambered into the horse-drawn vehicle. The driver turned to look at them. A few awkward moments passed before he prompted them, "Where to, guv?"
Teal'c handed the man the business card. "221B Baker Street."
Soon the carriage was wending its way through the smoggy streets.
After ringing the door bell, the team was let in. The landlady showed them up into a sitting room, where they seated themselves. The room was full of clutter, and a log fire burned in the grate. O'Neill looked like it all brought back uncomfortable memories, Teal'c just looked uncomfortable.
The housekeeper returned. "'E won't keep you for more than a minute or two." She produced something from a trolley behind her. "Won't you 'ave a sandwich?" She waved the tray at him. "Bread is good fer ya."
O'Neill smiled that smile that he smiles when he's humouring someone that he thinks might well be mad. "No thanks."
"Oh, go on," she said.
"No, really."
"Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on. If you can't eat bread, what can yer eat. There ain't nuffin wrong with bread, bread is good fer ya."
"I'd rather not have one at the moment, if it's all the same to you."
"Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on," she persisted, waving the tray at him.
"No, I don't want one."
"Bread is good fer ya!" She was almost shouting at him now.
Carter couldn't take it any more. "Sir, just eat the sandwich, please?"
Gingerly he picked one up, lifting the top slice of bread to see what was in it. Raspberry jam. He bit into it, before smiling and nodding at the housekeeper. "Sweet."
"See, I told you bread was good fer ya," the old woman muttered as she left the room.
Jackson looked somewhat disappointed that he hadn't been given a sandwich, but his disappointment was short-lived. Just as O'Neill was taking the second bite from his sandwich, Mr. Sherlock Holmes entered the room.
"Ah, sorry to keep you waiting. What can I do for you?" He settled down into a comfortable looking armchair, and clasped his long white fingers together.
Everyone was quiet for a moment. They were a little bewildered what with being able to talk to someone who wasn't really supposed to exist.
"We have a missing persons case for you, Mr. Holmes," O'Neill said.
Holmes' gaze fell onto the sandwich in O'Neill's hand. "I hope Mrs. Doyle wasn't too much trouble. She can be quite insistent at times."
"Ya think?" O'Neill cleared his throat. "There was a boy, and he was grabbed before our very eyes."
"A boy?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I was wondering when people were going to visit us through the Stargate. I was not aware my fame had spread to other planets."
Jackson raised his eyes to the heavens, muttering, "Well THAT was obvious".
O'Neill gave him a withering look before replying to Holmes. "No, well, the boy was on THIS planet, but we are from another world, yes."
"All but one of you are military. Interesting."
Carter leaned forward. "Please, Sir, tell him about Arthur."
Holmes looked like he'd been stabbed through the heart. "Arthur?" he whispered.
All of a sudden Carter realised who Holmes was. "Oh no, if you know about the Stargate, and Arthur, then YOU must be his father."
Holmes' gaunt face had a terrible expression on it, confirming her hypothesis. "We must leave at once."
They were soon onboard another carriage, heading back towards the warehouse.
"You say the boy was taken from your grasp?" Holmes asked Carter.
"Yes, he was going to take us to see you," she answered.
O'Neill began feeling around in his pockets. "Hold on, I picked up something at the scene. Where is it? Ah, there it is." He handed the plastic bag over to Holmes. "A red herring."
"So it is." Holmes raised one eyebrow enigmatically. "This herring has not been turned red by the process of smoking. Rather, it is a rare breed of herring which is naturally red. I know of only one man who breeds rare things such as this..."
Jackson was sat in the corner of the vehicle, looking incredibly bored. Anyone would think he was jealous about not being the one who got to work things out. He wanted to know who Holmes was referring to, but he was NOT going to bring himself to ask. Like a little boy, O'Neill was hanging on every word Holmes said. In Jackson's opinion, it was sickening.
Holmes looked around the carriage before uttering one word. "...Moriarty. Would you care to accompany me? To MAKE MY HEART SMILE AGAIN?"
After giving new instructions to the driver, they set off into the night.
The drive through the streets turned into a expedition through the pitch blackness of the countryside. The carriage's brass lamps did little to show the way, and the road was bumpy. The only people who didn't seem to be bothered were Holmes (who was too worried) and Teal'c (who is well 'ard). For the other three, the journey seemed to be a lot longer than it really was.
They came to a stop, and disembarked.
Holmes motioned towards a building, some way off, whose lit rooms were a beacon to the surrounding area. "That is where we are going."
He set off, walking down the drive at a brisk pace. Jackson saw the long walk as an opportunity to discuss something with O'Neill.
"Jack, you don't suppose this is a trap, do you?"
"Oh, undoubtedly. But it'll be fun saving Sherlock Holmes from his nemesis, won't it?"
Jackson sighed. It seemed that some people never grew up.
Carter noticed that there were dead goats in the field to the side of the road.
"That would be because of Moriarty's collection of rare rabbits," Holmes said.
"Rabbits?" O'Neill looked confused.
"If rabbits eat grass then goats will expire rapidly," Teal'c explained.
O'Neill looked at Teal'c, a little surprised.
After some serious trudging, they arrived at the house. O'Neill waved various fingers, covertly giving the other members of SG-1 instructions, then they stormed the house. It wasn't hard to overpower the opposition. The modern weaponry was more than a little useful. I won't bore you with a long and tedious description, building the tension to the point where they find the child. Needless to say, they found little Arthur, and he was re-united with his Dad.
O'Neill was looking disappointed. "Where's Moriarty?"
"If Moriarty were not hard to find, he would hardly be a worthy adversary!" exclaimed Holmes.
Jackson suddenly realised why Holmes had been willing to walk into a trap. "You knew about these weapons, and you knew we'd be able to pull this off, didn't you?"
Holmes smiled at Jackson, before turning to little Arthur, who was crying and hugging his Dad. Holmes rather stiffly took a handkerchief from his pocket, but it seemed to have no apparent effect. Sighing, O'Neill reached into his backpack and took out a fairy liquid bottle and some sticky back plastic. The rest of SG-1 gave him some VERY strange looks.
"Hold on, kid, I'll make you a Tracy Island in no time, " he said, before proceeding to mess around with the component pieces rather ineffectually. O'Neill occupied himself in this manner for some time.
Carter walked over to Arthur, and gave him a hug. As soon as he saw the GDO, he stopped crying. It was as if the little buttons were calling to him, "Press me! Press me!". Realising what it was that he wanted, Carter unstrapped the device and handed it to him. He began to fiddle with it happily. Holmes rested his hand on Arthur's shoulder, and watched his scientific inquisitiveness with pride.
O'Neill gave up on the Tracy Island. Let's face it, no-one's wanted one of those for ages anyway. And he was pretty sure you needed toilet rolls to make one properly.
Before long, everyone was heading back to the warehouse. The Stargate beckoned; it was time to go home. Holmes had lots of questions, but O'Neill kept insisting they obey the Prime Directive. He seemed to have gotten his wires crossed somewhere along the line.
The Stargate shimmered into action. Holmes studied it intently, finally seeing something in action that he'd spent years trying to work out. The four figures disappeared with a gloopy noise after waving goodbye. And the Stargate disengaged.
"Father, can we...?" Arthur asked.
"I dread to think of the bread mountain that will accumulate if we are not here to eat Mrs. Doyle's sandwiches." He looked down at Arthur's puppy dog eyes before leaping into action. "Let's do it!"
Together they moved a strange contraption to the bottom of the ramp. Carefully Holmes seated Arthur inside it, before moving over to the DHD and dialling Earth's address. The Stargate activated. Then Arthur keyed the iris code into Carter's GDO. The elaborate system of mirrors they'd set up had enabled them to see the code clearly. Arthur had known that'd be useful someday.
Holmes sat behind Arthur, and the contraption moved forwards, very slowly. Then it disappeared into the worm-hole.
Their materialisation on the other side caused some consternation. But they were hardly there for a second. With Holmes' invention turned on, they were swept back into Earth's past. In fact, they were taken back to a time that was remarkably similar to the planet they'd come from. All that they left behind in the present was a rather brief note. "Re: Moriarty. YOU STOPPED US FROM KILLING EACH OTHER, YOU'LL NEVER KNOW BUT YOU SAVED OUR LIVES. Many thanks, Sherlock Holmes."
Once they'd sailed to England from America, they set up home in Victorian England. Holmes lived out the rest of his life in peace and quiet, with no arch-enemies to dog his every move. And as for little Arthur, he had a new and exciting life. He put his interesting childhood to good use, writing both detective and science-fiction novels. They were so good he even got knighted: he became Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Ha! Bet you wasn't ezpeting that!
THE END