Summary: A routine mission goes awry during an altercation with the indigenous people, but when SG-1 is forced to flee, forces of nature prove to be the greater threat.

An author's note of dubious length: Hi! This is a Season 8 fic in the sense of taking place in the year after Season 7; however, since I started writing it before Season 8 premiered, it doesn't contain specific Season 8 spoilers (though there are a few speculations here and there). Having said that, though, this story does contain spoilers for Season 7, as well as all previous seasons.

I am a diehard Jack/Sam ‘shipper, and have been since I saw, oh, three randomly selected episodes of the show. However, this story is post-7, and as I would like it to have a semblance of “canon-ness,” I have to deal with Pete Shanahan in some capacity. If you object to this, Pete doesn't exactly float my boat either, so don't expect him to be around a whole lot. And if you choose to stick around to the end of the story, you might like how he turns out.

A character named Amelia will have a small role in this story. She isn't mine; she's the creation of my good friend Sache8, who's writing an excellent Season 6 story now at this site entitled Amelia's Violin. It's primarily about Jonas, but Jack and Sam are wonderful in it as well. Well worth the read for any fan of the series.

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate. (Wish I did.) Or Krispy Kreme. (Wish I did.)

So, without further ado. . .

Not in Kansas Anymore
by Melyanna

Prologue: Original Glazed

It was probably fair to say that Jack O'Neill was a lot less interested in what Daniel was saying than in the doughnut he was eating. And it never ceased to amaze him that mission briefings weren't much different now that he was a general, and in command of SGC. Carter and Daniel still said things he didn't get, Teal'c only spoke up when he had something profound to say, and Jack himself usually had to tell Carter to repeat things, speaking slowly and using smaller words and less math.

Jack stared at the last bite of doughnut — Krispy Kreme, original glazed — for a minute, pondering its perfection, before sticking it in his mouth and sucking the extra sugar off his fingers. Having done with that last moment of pleasure, he sighed and kicked his feet up on the corner of the table. “Sir?” Carter prompted. “Were you listening to Daniel at all?”

“Of course I was,” he said, pulling his feet down and sitting up straighter. “I just don't see what he's getting at.”

Daniel sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Jack, the point is that there's evidence of a civilization here, and we should try to make contact.”

“And why's that?”

“Because, as you'll see in these pictures,” Daniel continued, flipping through images on the screen in front of them, “these fields have obviously been sown by machine. The rows are really close together, and they're perfectly straight, even though the terrain isn't exactly flat.”

Jack picked up a pen, but dropped it as soon as he realized that his fingers were sticky. Carter passed him a napkin. “Why was it you brought doughnuts today, sir?” she asked.

“Because I like doughnuts, and I thought some of you might appreciate it.” He picked up the green and white box and waved it under Teal'c's nose. “Come on, Teal'c, you know you want one.”

“On the contrary, O'Neill, I have no desire to consume one.” Jack glared at him, and Teal'c said: “However, that has not prevented me from eating things before.”

He took one out of the box and obediently ate it with extraordinary care. Jack, meanwhile, turned his attention back to Daniel. “So who should I send? SG-4? They haven't been off-world for a week or so.”

He glanced at Carter for a moment. “Jack, we were hoping you'd send us.”

“SG-1?” said Jack. “You got some special expertise that puts you ahead of SG-4 or 7?”

“Sir,” Carter began, “we haven't been anywhere in three weeks. The last two missions we were scheduled for either got cancelled or reassigned.”

“Let's see,” Jack replied, “I didn't let you go to P4X-778 because the MALP blew up and you,” he emphasized, pointing at Carter, “couldn't explain why.”

“And you wouldn't let us invest-”

”Uh-uh, Carter,” he interrupted. “General Hammond would have done the same thing, and you know it.”

“And you would have been arguing his decision for the next six weeks, sir.”

Jack gave her a look, and she backed down. Daniel, however, didn't. “Jack, it's like you're trying to keep us here.”

“Now, why would I do that?” Jack asked.

“I don't know, but you've been acting very weird every time we've gone off world since you took over from Dr. Weir.” Daniel shifted his weight and shrugged, tossing his papers down onto the table. “I guess it's natural. You get shifted a desk job, you get soft, you forget what it's like.”

Jack started to protest, but Teal'c interrupted him. “It is not surprising, Daniel Jackson,” he said, holding up the last morsel and squishing it between thumb and forefinger. “I believe any could become soft if one consumed this food, as satisfying as it is.”

“Hey! No insulting the Krispy Kremes,” Jack said, grabbing the box. “Daniel, Teal'c, you've lost your Krispy Kreme privileges for today. I hope you're happy.” He slid the box over to Sam. “Carter, have as many as you like.”

“No, thank you, sir,” she replied. At his raised eyebrow, she said: “I mean no disrespect to the Krispy Kremes, General. It's just that we need to be out there doing something. We can make contact with these people, and you know Daniel's good at that.”

Jack sat back, annoyed. It wasn't so much that Carter was right; it was that Daniel was right. He'd been keeping SG-1 off the duty roster in part because he just didn't want them going anywhere without him. Well, there was one way to fix that.

“Fine,” he said. “You leave for P4X-242 in two hours.”

“Thank you, sir,” Carter replied.

They started to file out, but Jack said: “Colonel, one more thing.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I'll be going with you.”

Thanks for reading! Reviews are always welcome, and I hope you stick around for the rest of the story.