A/N: Props to AngelSC (again, heh) for fodder for prank ideas, as I incorporate a few more in this chappy, and give em' a new twist.

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Way #78 – Jailbait

It was a hot night on that semi-arid world, and the place was full of these short shrubs with sharp, pointy leaves. They had the hardest time finding a place to pitch the tents. Stickers and burs and tiny little bugs were all over the place, and oddly colored grass with a waxy, slippery texture that their boots kept sliding on when they walked. It was quite a nuisance on the overall. The trees were squat, short little things of knobby bark and things similar to pine-needles. Some were rather cactus-like. They were plentiful, and painful to run into with their various spines and even a sticky sap-like substance dripping from their branches that was itchy as hell. Tiny gnats buzzed in grey clouds and kept getting in their face all day. Night hadn't brought much relief as the temperatures stayed about the same and the nocturnal bugs simply took the next shift. The team had to break down and get out their knives and clear away some of the brush in order to lay the tents out without sharp leaves sticking straight through the bottom. Annoying, but necessary, as they had important business on this world.

Daniel had been a bit cautious at first. He was having a hard time judging Jack's state of mind today. It had been a few days since he'd conspired with Teal'c to launch a counter-attack. This was their first time off-world since then and things had been pretty busy on this mission. He wasn't sure if Jack was in a joking mood. True that you could never be too careful with Jack, because even in the most serious of moments he always found time for . . . interesting diversions. Still, Daniel was uncertain what to think. Jack had been all business on this trip, his serious Colonel self, seemed distanced and stressed. It seemed unlikely Daniel would have to worry about unusual bedside visitations.

So that night, Dr. Jackson went to sleep with little concern for the sort of pranks he had grown so accustomed to. That morning, he would come to regret it.

As Daniel drifted to consciousness, the one thing that he noted right away was how much cooler it seemed that morning. It was so nice. He figured that the weather had simply improved, perhaps it was a bit breezier today. Yes. Mm. He could smell coffee, and hear people shuffling around the camp, tin clinking against tin. He also could smell breakfast, whatever it was, smelled like fruit, strangely—hah, now that would be a new one, the Air Force issuing them some real food for a change? Indeed.

Daniel yawned and peered groggily around the tent, wanting to make sure Jack wasn't leaning over him with a giant slug or a bucket of bugs. It was the one thing the man frequently threatened to do, let a bunch of bugs loose in the tent, but he never seemed to actually do it. Daniel sighed in relief when he saw no signs of his impish bunk-mate. The bug thing did creep him out the most, though he had never admitted such to Jack. Somehow Jack must have known anyway though, since that was probably why he continued to threaten it. And never actually do it. Jerk.

Daniel mumbled grouchily and turned to roll on his side, but something hindered his motion. He peered down and just stopped, staring dumbly, unable at first to even understand what he was looking at.

The bottom of the tent. The bright green plastic, right under his chin. It was as if he had become the invisible man, and his body had disappeared. Like he was nothing more than a disembodied, floating head.

"Wha—!"

Daniel yelled and started thrashing, or trying to anyway, struggling to try and feel his body, but there was some incredibly strong barrier holding him back. After flipping out for a few moments he stopped, tried to calm down and come to his senses. Trying to breathe normally, he took stock of his situation.

Okay. He turned his neck from side to side to see. The floor of the tent on his side was bare, save for their two packs they had left in the tent. Usually kept those towards the front of the tent where their feet were, somehow they both got shoved over on Daniel's side. Jack's sleeping bag was over on his own side undisturbed. Something was strange about the tent floor though, ripply.

Daniel tried to move and wriggled a little. He could feel his body. Yes. It was there, it was just hard to move. After some experimentation he watched the tent floor jiggle a little and the optical illusion of his disembodiment vanished at once, having finally clicked into place what had happened. He was under the tent . . . somehow . . . his eye traced the ripple of the plastic and he saw the outline of a rectangle. Jack must have taken a razor and cut straight through the floor of the tent, slid Daniel under, and weighed it back down with the packs . . .

But it was more than just that, as Daniel pushed against the ground, and found he really was stuck. Jack must have dug a hole. In the ground where his sleeping bag had been. But he could still feel the fabric of the inside of his sleeping bag against his skin. He was still in his sleeping bag, so that meant Jack had dug a hole, put him in, and then put the tent floor on top.

In the middle of the night, while Daniel had been asleep, without him knowing.

"Huh, okay, funny. Sam? Hey Sam?" Daniel called, wrestling to try and get free. Nobody was answering him. No doubt everyone was instructed to not come to his immediate aid. He stretched out and pushed his arms against the sides of the bag and kicked, and shoved upwards with his chest, but the walls of his chamber were a tight fit. They had a little give but not much. He knew the dirt on this world was a very sandy soil, and imagined Jack had packed it down pretty tightly on top of him. Still, he wasn't in that deep, so surely he was strong enough to get out on his own. Right?

He pushed against the wall in a few rapid thumps, calling,

"Jack? Teal'c. Come on Teal'c, get the shovel and get me out. I want breakfast."

He tested the limits of his shallow grave and wriggled back and forth and all around, trying to judge the weight on top of him, trying to find any weaknesses. It felt alarmingly compact and concrete. He wasn't sure why, he could only be in a few inches deep. He couldn't even bring his legs together though, they were held fast like his arms in the compact soil on top and below. Jiggling up and down seemed to help loosen things a little.

"You know if I had claustrophobia you'd be in deep shit by now, Jack!" Daniel yelled.

He didn't have claustrophobia, fortunately. The man was accustomed to fitting himself into tight spaces . . . as an archeologist, it was a practical part of life. Some might have been terrified to wake up and realize they were buried alive (from the head down, at least), but it was more of an annoyance than a terror.

"Oof," Daniel murfled, as he pushed against the dirt. What the hell was holding him down so hard? Then his eye fell upon the forgotten packs and he realized. It must have been themdumping all that extra weight on top of him. They certainly weren't helping at any rate. Was there any way he could kick them off? Maybe . . .

"Damn it," Daniel cursed, starting to feel tried from struggling against his burial. He paused to breathe and ponder. It was a little difficult to breathe with the dirt compacted on top of his lungs. He was starting to get hot trapped in his sleeping back with all that struggling. Very annoying. And his face felt sticky and wet, one of the drips in his eye that was especially irritating, but he couldn't do much about it without having any arms or hands. He shook his head and grumbled indignantly. There was that weird smell again. It smelled like fruit. He suddenly felt very angry at the thought of the three of his team-mates sitting just right outside, eating breakfast while he was here under the goddamned ground. He paused to yell more loudly:

"Okay, fun's over with! Get me the heck out of here Jack! You guys hear me? You can't keep me in here forever, we do have work to do!"

He waited to hear any response. It was mostly quiet outside from what he could tell. They were either a little too far from his tent or just not answering. Somehow he suspected the latter.

"I KNOW YOU'RE OUT THERE!"

Well, no response— he wasn't going to get any help from them anytime soon. He knew they were out there, he could hear stuff shuffling around in the background.

"Goddamnit," he cursed again, blinking and shaking his head, the sticky stuff at the corner of his eye. He sniffed and suddenly wondered why his face felt so darn sweaty. It was almost like some kind of paste was smeared on him, and he was reminded of Jack's stupid shaving cream. But that wouldn't make sense in the context of this stunt. Besides it smelled really weird, like . . .

Daniel licked his lips and then stuck his tongue out to lick some more, snuffling, recognizing the taste as food. It tasted like jam, like strawberry jam. What the hell? Why was . . . why was his face smeared in strawberry jam?

"Shit," Daniel squeaked, mind having jumped to a possible and very disturbing scenario. He began to fight to escape with renewed vigor.

"He wouldn't— no, there's no— I can't even—rrrrrrgh!"

There was no use, he had to get those packs off the top of him if he was going to get out. Daniel glanced around in a paranoid manner, scanning for signs of any insect activity in his tent. He didn't see any, but maybe he just couldn't see them. Oh, God, what if they were underground, you don't think he dug right into an ant nest and put Daniel right on top of them, did he?

"JACK!" Daniel howled, jerking and fighting viciously now, tent floor flapping. The Colonel had outdone himself this time, though, because his handiwork was very sound. Daniel kicked and kicked, and the packs jiggled a little, but it was going to take a lot more than that to make them move. Daniel leaned back and took in a deep breath and yelled,

"Jaaaaaaaack!"

Nobody answered him. Daniel was really starting to lose his patience with this man. He could hear noises out there, they were probably just right outside.

"Jack," Daniel began again, in a more calm and reasonable tone, directed at the entrance of his tent,

"Come on now. Let's be practical. I know we got to break camp and get underway soon. Granted, I can't quite see my watch at the moment . . . but I know we've got to get going. So just let me out already." Daniel paused. "Okay?"

He kept quiet as he heard more sounds from outside. Nobody was speaking but they were moving around. The grass was shuffling under footfalls. After a few moments a shadow fell on Daniel's flapping tent wall.

"Jack, you've had your fun . . . very clever, yeah. I don't know how the hell you did all this without me waking up . . . are you listening to me?"

The shadow moved, but something was off. It was too short to be Jack. As it drew closer, it didn't sound right. Its breathing was scratchy and weird. Daniel swallowed, his body stiffening, detecting danger. There was something wrong here. He felt his pulse leap into his throat, and then the tent flap began to move . . .

A few moments later he was peering straight into a pair of golden-orange eyes, set on a curious, unfamiliar face. It was the gaze of a predator, this much Daniel knew immediately. Eyes close together for binocular vision, just like his own. It had a long furry snout and big, pointed ears with furry tufts on the end. A sizeable pair of yellowish tusks protruded from its mouth where its canines would have normally been. It blinked its eyes at Daniel.

Dr. Jackson swallowed again and remained very, very still.

The animal inched into the tent a little further, cautiously, sniffing with its big snout. It was about the size of a dog, a smaller dog. It stepped in on cloven feet, and thoroughly sniffed around the floor of the tent. It would look up at Daniel and then back down to where it sniffed. It was very nervous at first, kept jumping every time the sound of the plastic tent rustled, didn't like the sound. It seemed reluctant to enter the alien enclosure. But that soon changed and it quickly grew bolder and came all the way inside.

Daniel tried to hold his breath. The animal was pretty large. It had a long, sleek body with a long, thin, furry tail, tufted at the end. Its fur was sleek and a straw yellow, ticked in darker brown, and a dark black on its ears, tufts, and muzzle. Standing on thin, hooved legs, it looked adapted for running. It picked around on the ground, investigating Jack's sleeping bag, scratching at the ground with its tusks and sniffing. Watching it, Daniel theorized it might just go on its way after it had finished investigating . . . it didn't even seem to be entirely aware of Daniel's presence, though it did continue giving him nervous glances. It continued to merrily pick along and chew on the sleeping bag and poke at the plastic ground, which it found very fascinating, its tail held low in a calm posture. But it had caught the scent of something that it liked, and it didn't take long for Daniel to deduce what that was.

Those amber eyes returned to Daniel's. He felt in true danger then. Surely Jack hadn't known some other animal would have come along, but however it had happened Daniel's face now looked like a meal to a very toothy looking critter. The animal seemed to pick up on Daniel's fear. Its ears flattened and it raised its tail a little. A low growl escaped from its lips and it bore its teeth at Daniel.

"Uh, n—nice doggy," Daniel tried quietly, knowing he had to try something. The animal stiffened and began to lash its tail, pushing into the ground with its hooves. It growled a little louder at Daniel—

Gvrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmm!

Dr. Jackson nervously eyed the pair of tusks on the creature, which came to pretty sharp points, a bit like a saber-cat's.

"Shh-shh, I'm ah...I'm not gonna hurt you," Daniel murmured, acutely aware of the fact that the feeling was not mutual for the animal. It pawed the ground with its left hoof angrily, snarling, partially opening its mouth and emitting a new threatening sound. It sounded like a cross between a hiss and a moan. Daniel did not like how things were headed. He began to push at his prison again, although rather futilely.

The wild animal protested when Daniel started moving around and took a dangerous step closer, shouting its strange call right in Daniel's face,

Krrrrrrrrroooooooooooaaaaahhhhhhh!

Daniel froze, like a deer in headlights, transfixed by the pair of curved yellow tusks and the rows of teeth now showing. He simply froze and stayed that way, unable to do anything more. The animal lurched forward another foot and as those fangs descended upon Daniel's face, he closed his eyes instinctively and braced himself, hoping the gouges would hit the side of his face and miss his eyes.

His skin was met with a rough, wet sensation, and he waited to feel the tearing of flesh and the trickling of blood, the snapping of cartilage. But there was none.

Daniel opened his eyes and peered about in confusion, wondering where the animal had gone. He saw its big black snout and big yellow tusks right in his face, and he yelped in utter fear.

The animal did not respond to that though and continued to lap at Daniel's face with a long, pink tongue. It made happy little 'murr' sounds as it did so, and snuffed its sticky nose with pleasure.

"Uuuhg—oh—ick—eurrr—hey. Hey get off."

Daniel wrenched his face into a disgusted expression and watched the creature lick its lips and draw its slobbery tongue across Daniel's cheek.

"Oh, God— stop it! Euck! Jack. Jack! Jack, for the love of God, where are you? Aaagh!"

Murrrrvvvvvrrr, purred the critter, and it licked Daniel's nose thoroughly. He coughed and sputtered.

"JACK!"

Vvvrrrr, the animal chirped in reply, lapping away at the jam. Daniel spat and squirmed as the animal's tongue got on his lips.

"Heeheee."

Dr. Jackson struggled to move his face away and see, and out of the corner of his eye could see Jack standing at the entrance of the tent.

"Jack! For the love of—ppffftppp! Goddamn it Jack get me OUT of here!"

"But Danny, it looks like you're having such a good time."

"Gah!" The animal pressed its nose into Daniel's face and lapped at the side of his head, its tusks pressing into his skin but harmlessly so. It seemed to have no intent to injure him, at least at the moment.

"Don't worry, Daniel. She won't bite. She has excellent manners."

Daniel tried to look at Jack in the eye as he growled,

"I don't CARE if she won't bite, just get it OFF me!"

"Aaaw. She's just showing she loves you. Isn't that right, Tok'ra?"

The animal murred happily in response at Jack and went back to licking Daniel's left ear. Daniel struggled against his dirt trap and exclaimed,

"You NAMED it— Jack, is this thing domesticated? Has it been screened for diseases or anything?"

"Uh. She just sort of wandered into camp. . ."

"Jack it's eating my face!"

Jack started laughing again, to Daniel's exasperation. The animal began to nibble on Daniel's ear and he squeaked in a high voice,

"Jack! Get it off me now!"

"Okay, okay. I guess you've had enough," Jack observed, taking his sweet time, watching the animal sniffing all over Daniel's head and nibbling on locks of hair. Jack patted his leg and leaned down a little,

"C'mere, Tok'ra! C'mon! C'mere girl!"

The animal turned and gave a strange call and bounded over to Jack energetically. It let him pat her head. Daniel watched in disbelief as Jack scratched behind its ear.

"You have it trained?"

"I told you she was friendly."

He patted it on the back and she raised her tail and curled it around Jack's arm.

"Jack, the General's gonna kill you. We have no idea what this thing could be carrying. It's a wild animal!"

"Not exactly. More like feral. That lady what's-her-name mentioned the problems they've been having with feral populations around here and—"

"That's the same difference."

"No it isn't, Mr. Walking Dictionary, and you know it."

Daniel sighed, knowing an argument with Jack was futile, especially when he was buried underground with jam and animal spit all over his face. That didn't exactly give him an advantage.

"Are you going to get me out of here anytime soon?"

Jack gazed down at the irate head of Dr. Jackson.

"Unfortunately I'm gonna have to. We got a busy day ahead of us. Hey. A-head. Heh . . . that's good."

Tok'ra had wandered back over to Daniel and was sniffing at him, tail raised in friendly greeting, clucking happy sounds.

"Jack! It's getting too close again!"

"You sure you don't want the pig-dog to finish cleaning you up before I dig you out?"

Daniel kicked and punched at the dirt on top of him and made angry shooing sounds at the animal trying to lick him again.

"Let me put it this way Jack, I think you're going to deeply regret this once I get out of here."

Jack grinned and clasped his hands,

"Oooh, is that so? I'm looking forward to it already."

"O'Neill?"

Jack turned his head to see the large Jaffa, armed with a shovel, peer into the tent.

"Has sufficient time passed so that we may unbury DrJackson?"

"Uh, yeah. He's had enough."

"Backstabber," Daniel shot at Teal'c irritably.

"I prefer to consider myself a neutral party," Teal'c responded.

Tok'ra started licking Daniel's face again and he yelled in protest.

"Jaaaack!"

"Tok'ra, stop, c'mere girl. Don't you love her, Danny? I'm hoping they'll let me keep her."

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