TITLE: The Offer

AUTHOR: Eleri McCleod

CONTACT INFO: elerimc at gmail dot com

STATUS: complete

CATEGORY: drama, crossover, AU, series

PAIRINGS: none

SPOILERS: way too late for spoiler warnings on either show

SEASON: JAG season 9; Stargate: SG-1 season 7

SERIES/SEQUEL INFO: 1st in the "Honor Bound" series

CONTENT LEVEL: T, 13+, FR13, take your pick

CONTENT WARNINGS: none

SUMMARY: Jack O'Neill has spent years not-so-patiently waiting to poach JAG's only fighter pilot turned lawyer for the SGC. Since the CIA seemed to be done with him, Jack wasn't about to miss yet another opportunity. JAG/SG-1 crossover; 1st in the "Honor Bound" series.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of JAG or Stargate: SG-1. I'm just borrowing them for a little while and will return them unharmed. No copyright infringement is intended.

ARCHIVE: Fanfiction, AO3, LJ, any others please ask

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This crossover has been hanging around with the plot squirrels for many years. After binge watching JAG yet again, I finally got around to starting it. Here's the first story of what I hope is an entertaining call back to two shows I've enjoyed for two decades. Three short stories are completed and will be posted in some scheduling pattern not yet determined. I write fanfiction with the assumption that readers are already familiar with the fandom(s) involved. Since this is a crossover, there may be references or specifics that some readers don't catch. That's all right. They're minor details and shouldn't detract from reading enjoyment.

This story is unbetaed so any mistakes are all on me. It's been so long since I've posted anything that most of the betas I've worked with previously are no longer in the fanfiction world. As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.


Staring around the dimly lit hallway, Jack O'Neill tapped the folder he held against his leg. He could hear movement on the other side of the door which matched what he'd observed from his post across the street. Harmon Rabb, Jr., formerly of the United States Navy, lived alone and, unless their intel team was way behind the power curve, was currently unattached romantically. So Jack knew there was only one option behind the footsteps now approaching the door.

He pasted a friendly yet professional expression on his face. Rabb had slipped through their fingers for years. Jack wasn't about to blow this opportunity to snag him.

The door opened to reveal the man in person. Despite having read Rabb's service record multiple times over the years, with the most recent addition of his exploits with the CIA's air division, Jack was momentarily taken aback at seeing him in the flesh. Rabb was tall, broad and military fit, despite being on the wrong side of thirty. All of which matched his record and the first-hand accounts the SGC investigation teams had gathered over the years. What he hadn't expected was the almost electric intensity emanating from the former commander. Jack mentally ticked off the final check mark in his head. This man was everything the paperwork described him to be and more.

"Can I help you?" Rabb asked, looking a bit confused, but not wary. Rabb had a few inches on Jack and from all reports was more than capable of protecting himself if necessary.

"Commander Rabb," Jack said, noting the lightning quick wince that flashed over the other man's face before his expression settled into a blank and far less friendly mask. "Colonel Jack O'Neill, Air Force. Can I have a few minutes of your time?"

Rabb's eyes scanned him quickly, clearly taking in the posture, the civilian clothes, lingering on the folder, darting up to the slightly longer than regulation hair cut. The mask didn't warm, but it didn't lock down even tighter. Jack counted it a win. "I'm not in the Navy any longer, Colonel. You're information's outdated."

"My information's up to date, all right. And I'd say you earned your rank a few times over." He waved the folder once, drawing Rabb's eyes and a touch of curiosity. "Want to hear what I have to say?" The pull was almost painful as Rabb froze, mouth tightening into a firm line. Jack simply waited, remembering well the feeling of losing everything he'd ever worked for, every hope and dream lost and shattered behind.

After a long moment, Rabb opened the door wider and stepped back. "Why not? I'm not sure my day could get any worse."

The door clicked shut behind them while Jack scanned the loft-style apartment. The floors gleamed with a soft glow of care while the louvers only partially blocked the view into the bedroom with its neatly ordered bed. General neatness and care would constitute the description Jack would ascribe to it, but there was little in the way of personal effects other than a few pictures that lined one bookcase and a guitar sitting sentinel on a stand. He followed Rabb to the living area and sat when the man gestured with one hand. "I'm here to make it better, although that really will be up to you. Kershaw's an idiot to let you go."

This time he wasn't able to stop the surprise before Jack got a long look at it. "I'm not sure what you mean, sir."

"Don't bother, Rabb. Kershaw's loss is hopefully our gain." He set the folder on the coffee table between them, watching the curiosity begin to overtake the discomfort on the other man's face. CIA Deputy Director Kershaw had exploited Rabb's skills then tossed him aside when he was no longer useful to him. Jack had never been a fan of the man, but his treatment of the former commander was simply dishonorable. "To be honest, I've been trying to poach you since the moment you stepped foot off the Patrick Henry. You're exactly the kind of officer we're always looking for."

"Then you're a bit late, Colonel. I haven't been in the Navy for six months. I'm not an officer any more," he said, more than a touch of resentment coloring the words.

"I know, Commander, and that's a damn shame in my book. Unfortunately, after you were released from active duty I was delayed getting here by a day and Kershaw's vultures managed to dangle their own carrot first. Otherwise you might have already been with us."

Rabb pushed to his feet, knocking the folder a few inches toward Jack. "Hold on, Colonel. I'm feeling a little slow here. Are you offering me a commission? In the Air Force?"

Jack sighed, shaking his head. "That's why Daniel's so much better at this," he muttered, ignoring Rabb's raised eyebrow. He tapped the folder twice with two fingers before rising as well. Without haste, he tugged his wallet free and dug out his ID. Rabb accepted it absently then scanned it like a man who'd seen a million of the little cards. Hell, he probably had. The man's case history was extensive and eclectic. Jack shoved his ID and wallet back into his pocket and tried to start over. "Commander Harmon Rabb, I'm here to officially offer you a position with Project Blue Book. It's a joint service task-force, headed by the Air Force. We also have a contingent of civilians under our command, if you choose to remain a civilian."

It was doubtful the former commander was struck speechless very often so Jack had to give him points for a quick recovery. "I've never heard of a Project Blue Book or a joint-service task force in need of ex-military lawyers."

"I'd be worried if you had. Everything you're authorized to know at this point is in that folder."

Rabb stared down at the manila cardstock as if it was about to leap up and attack him. "Why me? Why now? Why not when I left sea duty?"

"Because Chegwidden and the SECNAV are greedy sons of bitches. They blocked us then and for years after. Why now? As I said, Kershaw's an idiot, but I'll happily capitalize on his mistake." There was a tiny glimmer of hope and interest taking root in Rabb's eyes. It brought a smile to Jack's face, one he didn't bother to muzzle. It was like watching a man emerge from the water into air. "Why you, Rabb? You don't leave people behind. Even if it costs you everything."

That one struck a nerve that had Rabb's gaze darting up to meet Jack's for a moment before diving back to the folder. "You need the lawyer? Or the pilot?"

"All of the above, I'm hoping." Those intense eyes drilled into him and Jack took a second to toss up a prayer that Rabb would accept. They needed men like him and, unless he was completely off his game, Rabb needed the SGC. "But some positions are dependent on active military status."

"Yeah, I doubt the SECNAV would be amenable to my reentry into any branch of service."

Jack's smile turned a little vicious. "You let us worry about the SECNAV." Before Rabb could parse that one enough to form a response, Jack went on. "Read through the documents. Do whatever checks you need to feel comfortable that this is on the level, then give me a call."

"How long do I have?"

"I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted you with us four years ago, Commander. Open-ended offer. I'll be in town for a few days, but we have a Pentagon liaison you can contact if I'm gone before you decide. Info's in there."

It was a bit like a hit and run, but Jack had the feeling it would be counter-productive to extend the visit. Rabb would go through the file with the skepticism of a lawyer, then with the determination of a fighter pilot. Then he'd contact whichever spook owed him a favor to verify Jack's credentials and what little they'd be able to discover about Project Blue Book. Until all of that happened, there was nothing else Jack could do here.

"The offer's real, Rabb."

He left the man staring down at the folder as he let himself out into the dim hallway. After so many years of political interference and bad timing, Jack had finally managed to beat the other vultures scrambling to use Rabb's talents. Maybe this time it would actually work out.


Fin


Continued in "Honor Bound" #2