Summary: SG-1 prepares for an on-planet mission: recon a magical enclave

Prompt: LJ Community 20_fics - 007. "Step on it!"


"Come on guys! Step on it!" Jon yelled.

"Or we're leaving without you!" Hermione added in a loud voice of her own.

Jack O'Neill groaned as he hurried down the stairs, snatching up a loaded military-style hunters vest and backpack.

"Hold your horses! I don't see why you're in such a hurry."

Daniel Jackson smiled. He was sitting at the kitchen table gulping down coffee from his oversized insulated travel mug. He was dressed in light stonewashed jeans like Jack, only with a chocolate brown fishermans jumper, instead of a quilted green-blue checked flannel shirt Jack was wearing.

Jack looked around for the rest of his team. Teal'c was polishing off the last of the egg and bacon sandwich he must have picked up on the way in. He was dressed in dark green khakis and a brown-green checked flannel shirt. He had chosen to wear his usual black combat boots rather than the hiking boots Daniel and Jack opted for.

"Where's Carter?"

"She forgot something in her car." Hermione rinsed her mug and stacked it in the drying rack before turning around glancing at her watch. "If she doesn't show up in seven minutes we're leaving without her." She warned everyone in general.

Taking the hint Jack moved to the kitchen window and leaned out.

"Hurry up Carter! Or we're leaving without you."

It had an effect because ten seconds later the front door banged open and slammed shut. There were several loud heavy footsteps just before Sam Carter burst into the kitchen.

"I'm here!"

And she was loaded with various equipment bags, harnesses and pouches. It was a miracle she passed through the doorway without bumping into anything.

Hermione shook her head with a long-suffering expression Jack could completely get. If it wasn't Carter it was Daniel determined to drag every bit of tech or records from their various missions back to SGC.

The younger woman frowned slightly at his 2IC. "You know your equipment is probably going to get fried the moment you step into an enclave."

It was more of a statement than a question. Hermione had been very clear to stress the fragility of modern electronics and tech toys in a heavy magic-saturated environment.

Sam nodded vigorously. "I know. Even examining the remnants can be helpful in determining the failure points. It will help determine the best way of designing a shielding containment to protect our equipment for the next trip."

Hermione nodded and glanced around the room.

"Don't take any electronics you aren't willing to loose. Cell phones, pagers, Palm Pilots, Blackberries, iPhones." As they emptied their pockets into a basket Hermione transfigured from yesterday's newspaper, she produced several voluminous wads of fabric from a fanny pack too small to contain all of them and handed them out.

Warily each recipient shook out the material and held it up to see it was a long voluminous ankle length coat with wide sleeves made from a dark grey wool blend.

"Robes." She announced, demonstrating how to wear it, by slipping into it over her own clothes, indigo blue jeans and a yellow-maroon hoody. She tugged the material across her front, slipping the dyed wooden pegs into the corresponding loops so the robes covered her to just below the waist before flowing open, stopping at her ankles.

The members of SG-1 and Jon followed her example. The robes did not fit as perfectly on them as they did on her: too long or too short sleeves or hems, too wide shoulders. Each stood still as she waved her wand murmuring tailoring charms, adjusting the material so the garments fit better.

Sam was impressed. "You'd make a fortune as a tailor."

Hermione smirked. "If you really want to be impressed you should visit a professional seamswitch. They spell the fabrics and set charms as they stitch so the clothes are permanently enchanted. To resist wear-and-tear, stains, water. Some are spelled to be much more effective than thermal or insulated wear, or to act in-reverse in warmer weather. Certain professionals like Potions Masters or the very wealthy can request their orders to be specially treated to be resistant to damage from spills, or to be made from special fabrics or lined in materials like dragonhide or acromantula silk."

She straightened having finished with the last of SG-1. She put her wand away and produced a two-foot length of knotted hemp rope.

"Grab onto this." She ordered. "And don't let go." She glanced at her watch. "We have seventy seconds." She glanced around. "Just remember, you're a stranger in a strange land. If in doubt nod politely and smile and back away. Come and get me as quickly as possible. Don't agree to anything or go anywhere alone." She glanced at Teal'c. "If anyone asks about Teal'c just say he has some creature ancestry." She glanced at Daniel and Sam. "Don't ever let the two of them wander around alone." She ignored the erupting protests to focus on Jack. "Treat this as an SGC mission into sort-of unknown territory. Please try not to be too offensive. Bite your tongue if you can't think of anything nice to say."

Jack opened his mouth to voice his own protests but was cut off by the tugging sensation at his navel as the world twisted and compressed around him. He had a nasty feeling he was not going to enjoy travelling by portkey.

...ooOoo...

TBC…