A/N: I'm so sorry for the massively rude wait. I hit a bad writer's block, and school, and work. Ugh. Anyways, Gater62, meet Matt Kenseth. I'm still working on putting in Herman. Any other driver requests? Oh, and I still don't have a beta, so any and all mistakes are mine.

Daniel and Junior walked over to the trailers that the drivers brought to every track. They seemed to stretch on for miles. Every one of them looked fully decked out. For example, the first one they passed had a paint job that was neon yellow, with M&M's being blown down the side. These were some crazy machines. Daniel and Junior were halfway through the maze of motor homes when Daniel started smiling. He recognized where they were heading. About 10 yards away from them was one incredible machine. It was 60 feet long, bright red, and had a giant number 8 emblazoned on the side. Obviously Junior's home away from home. Surprisingly, Junior bypassed his motor home and headed for the one right next to it. This one was identical in size, but the paint job was different. It was yellow with a black stripe down the middle, and had the number 17 on it. Daniel gave Junior a quizzical look.

"I thought I'd introduce you to my buddy Matt Kenseth," said Junior. "He and I have been racing against each other for years, starting in the Busch series. We raced for two years in that series, and I kicked his ass by winning the championship both years. But he's returned the favor by winning Rookie of the year and a championship in the cup series, both of which I haven't done."

By this time, they were at the door of the trailer. Junior poked his head in the door. "Matt? Ya in there, bud?"

A voice floated out from the motorcoach. "Yeah. Come on in."

Once inside, Daniel looked around in amazement. This thing probably cost more than his apartment. They passed through a complete kitchen, into the living room. Lying on one of the couches was a man of about thirty. Matt had obviously just woken up from a nap, and was glaring at Junior. "Can't ya let a man get some sleep? Not all of us are night owls like you."

"Oh, you're just cranky because you're an old married man," Junior shot back.

Both men stared at each other for a minute, then burst out laughing. "So, wanna introduce me to your new friend?"

Junior looked to where Matt was pointing. "Oh, I forgot. Sorry. Matt, this is Daniel Jackson. Remember I told you I was taking some military people around this weekend? Daniel is a consultant for the military, and I figured after his ride, we should take it easy on him, and introduce him to other drivers. Don't scare him too badly." Somehow Junior managed all of this with a straight face.

"Well, Daniel, I'm glad to meet you. I'm Matt Kenseth, and this is my home away from home. Just kick back and relax. We've got about a half an hour before we need to head down for the driver's meeting, so anything you want to know about NASCAR, just ask!"

As Daniel settled into a chair he thought this could be interesting!


Meanwhile, in the number 24 pit stall, Jeff and the colonel were looking over the car, while simultaneously trying to stay out of the way of the crew. They were like a swarm of bees over the car, checking every connection, every fluid level, every piece of machinery. The hood was raised and the engine examined for any potential flaws. There was a crew member leaning in the driver's window, checking the dials and switches on the dash. He also checked the driver's compartment for comfort and made sure the straps weren't worn or torn. There were several more crew members checking the back of the car and the tires.

Jack was looking beyond the insanity. It was actually a bit quieter than the SGC. This car was even more beautiful than the one he rode in. Since it wasn't a two-seater, it was smaller and sleeker looking. It was lower to the ground, and looked like you couldn't squeeze Carter in the driver's seat, let alone Mikey, who had a good foot in height on her.

"-nel? Colonel? Colonel O'Neill?"

"What! Oh." Jack slowly turned to see Jeff looking very quizzically at him. He'd spaced out again. Oh well.

"Well, colonel, we won't be firing up the car until the command is given in a few hours, but I can let you drool over it, at least up until inspection."

By this time the crew had finished their ministrations to the car, and were pushing it towards the garages, where the NASCAR officials were looking at each car, one by one. They would check everything the crew had done, and make sure they weren't breaking any rules to get an advantage in the race.

A man dressed in a uniform similar to Jeff's stepped up next to Jack. "Colonel O'Neill? I'm Steve Letarte, Jeff's crew chief. Would you like to help us push the car back to the inspection area? Jeff mentioned you love looking at the cars, and most of them are lined up there."

At Jack's eager nod, the crew chief grinned. "Just grab a piece of fender and push. Don't push the sheet metal, it bends too easily."

As they pushed the car back into the garage area, the colonel's jaw hit the ground. Cars were everywhere, crew members were walking around, and it sounded like several jackhammers were going off. And…add to the list popping his eyes back in their sockets after seeing some of the girls that were walking around. This was gonna be a great vacation.

Head were turning and eyes were following them the entire trip down pit lane. And quite honestly, it was for a good reason. Heads normally would turn when people saw Mikey. His antics alone were well known throughout NASCAR. This time, it was the man walking beside him that was causing the double takes. Teal'c was walking sedately down pit lane, ignoring most of the chaos that is the infield. That kind of stoicism was almost unheard on raceday.

They stopped next to a pit stall that was literally plastered with the number 21. Leaning on the pit wall were two men, an older gentleman wearing a driver's uniform and a younger man wearing a uniform with the word FOX all over it. Mikey immediately walked towards them with a big grin on his face.

As they walked up to the two men, Mikey started the introductions. "Teal'c, I would like for you to meet two of my friends, Kenny Schrader, driver of the 21 car, and Alan Bestwick, pit reporter. Alan used to host a show that Kenny and I are panel members on."

Schrader cut in. "Personally, I think he left to save what little was left of his sanity."

"No, I lost that when I agreed to host the show."

"Hey, we did have some quality discussions on the show."

"When? I certainly wasn't there."

"The only time we maintained some semblance of order is when you weren't there, Mikey."

Throughout this exchange, Teal'c had been standing somewhat apart from the group. Externally, he looked his normal self. Internally, he was shaking his head. The three of them were going back and forth like a, what is that term, pinball. He may have just found the key to defeating the goa'uld. Stick these people in front of the Jaffa army. They wouldn't know which way to look.

"Well, Major Carter, welcome to the 48 team's raceday command center. It's where we keep all our extra supplies, including a backup car."

Sam looked up at the monstrosity before her. The hauler was painted just like the car, with a blue background and a giant 48 on the side. Multitudes of sponsors were all over it, in every available space.

Jimmie motioned towards the door. "After you, milady."

Sam groaned inwardly. She already had three goofballs to deal with. She didn't need another. Then she stepped inside, and completely lost her train of thought. This was a mechanic's dream. There were parts everywhere, on top on countertops, on shelves, even on top of the spare car. Oh, god, the backup car.

Jimmie watched her expression change from exasperation, to amazement, to downright enrapture as they walked through the door. He saw her eyeing the car.

"Go check it out."

That was all the encouragement Sam needed. The words were no sooner out of his mouth than she was going headfirst into the driver's side window.

"Wow. This is incredible."

This car was both inferior and advanced at the same time. It was inferior compared to some of the other racing circuit. Before her ride earlier, she noticed they still used carburetors. Some of the other things she noticed were restrictor plates and no treaded tires. Bummer. No racing in the rain. It was advanced because of how fast the cars could go despite these disadvantages.

Jimmie grinned as he watched Sam raise the hood of the car and dive in. He shot a glance at the clock hanging on the wall. They had 30 minutes until the driver's meeting. With luck, he could get her out of here just before the race started. He was gonna need backup.