Author Notes: I'm trying for longer chapters, but still no clue where to divide them. I'm also looking for a beta, if anyone wants a sneak preview. Mild language in this chapter, but used in fun.
Swearing under his breath, Jack Jr entered the quarters he was sharing with his 'father' in the SGC. Because he was legally a minor, he had to stay here while the General – as Jack called the man – was off on missions. It's only a damn meeting at the White House. I could've stayed home alone for a few damn hours. He thought angrily. "I need a beer." He muttered, heading for the fridge.
Swearing loudly, he read the note the General had left in there for him. Nice try Mini-me. Better luck next time. – G.
"Damn General, and his damn no beer." He kicked the fridge savagely, making tears well up as a pain shot through his leg. "Ah, crap." He said, as he saw his toe on an unnatural angle. "Damn fridge, damn no beer..." He grumbled all the way to the medical center.
When he limped barefoot through the door Doctor Janet Fraiser shook her head. "What did you do this time, Jacky?" She asked, humour evident in her voice.
"Kicked the fridge." He muttered, every bit the stubborn ten-year-old.
"And why did you do that?" She asked, helping him to sit on a hospital bed.
"The General took all the beer out." He sulked. She had to hold back a laugh.
"Alcohol has been proven to stunt mental and physical development." She told him firmly. "Last thing you need is to be shorter and stupider than the General because you're drinking so young."
Jack froze. He'd never thought of that. He looked at her out the corner of his eye. "I'm not sure if I should laugh or be offended." He pointed out.
"Laugh, sweetie. And no beer." She said.
He pulled a face at her. Not damn likely.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
The General was getting bad news too.
Not only are wizards and magic real things, but a really evil one is after a small child so the kid can't kill him...again.
He rubbed his head. "So you want my son – my normal, non-magical son – to pretend to be a wizard so that he can protect this Harry kid?"
"Essentially, yes." The older of the wizards said in a very British voice.
"Damn it all." Jack muttered, not realising his clone was saying the exact same thing. He looked up at them. "You know he's ten years old?"
"Currently, so is Harry."
The General nodded. "I don't make decisions for him, but I know he'll agree. Let me call him."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Jacky, the phone's for you!" Dr Fraiser called.
Hobbling awkwardly on his strapped foot – he refused to use the crutches – he hurried to the medical center's office, sitting on Janet's chair. "Hey, General." He said into the receiver, knowing there was only one person that ever rang him.
"Hey, kiddo." That rang bells. The General only called him that in meetings. "Listen, there are some people here that want you for a mission." His grin was growing. "An undercover thing, and you have to protect a kid your age." He was waiting for the catch. "Thing is, kiddo...they're wizards."
"Wizards?" He asked in disbelief. "As in wands and broomsticks, or rabbits and hats?"
A murmured conversation followed. "Wands and broomsticks, apparently."
He was quiet. "General." He asked slowly. "Do you believe they're for real?"
He nodded, though Jack couldn't see it. "Yeah, kiddo. They showed me some of their magic. It's real all right."
Jack nodded too. "Okay, I'll do it." His trust for his older self was obvious in his voice. "But I'm going to need a beer for this. Magic's real?"
O'Neill laughed. "Yeah, it's real. And Janet said to keep it away from you."
"But General!" He whined. "Magic!"
"Fine." It wasn't like magic was discovered every day. "Half of one. I'll split it with you."
"Okay." Jack grumbled. "When'll you be getting back?"
"Not sure, kiddo." The General looked at the men in the office. "This is going to be a long story. Why are you in the Infirmary anyway?" He suddenly asked.
"Broke my toe on the fridge."
"Kicked it when you got my note?" O'Neill grinned.
"You're a right bastard, you know that?"
The General only laughed. "Behave yourself, kiddo. No more broken bones, hear me?"
"Yes, General."
"I'll see you when I get back." They both hung up, neither good with goodbyes.
"Broken bones?" The younger wizard asked with concern.
O'Neill nodded. "He kicked the fridge and broke a toe. He's a tough kid though, and he heals fast."
The younger wizard looked thoughtful. "We'll need to prove to him that magic is real."
"He believes." O'Neill said. "I told him it's real. If I believe it, he does too." He smiled. "We're...very much alike."
The wizard paused. "Would you have objections to permitting me to heal your son after this meeting?" At the General's shocked look the man added. "It will save recovery time, and make him fitter faster, not to mention giving him his own experience with magic."
"It won't hurt him?" O'Neill asked.
"Not at all." The man assured him.
"I guess that's alright, then."