Author's notes: I'm putting this here rather than the crossover section because only Mac is actually showing up from the MacGyver series. I also know a bunch of MacGyver/SG1 crossovers have been written and I know I've rather enjoyed them all. It's just too tempting to not write my own. Now, I've labeled this a WIP because it's not finished, but I do have a few chapters ready for editing, so I'm going to put up one a week and see if I can keep up with that schedule. Maybe with the holidays here I'll get some good time in. :)
Author's notes2: I edited out my spelling mistake, thanks Elvaralind! Sad to admit, I tend to swing towards malapropism in my writing. :\
Anyway, enjoy. And if you notice some 'odd' things in this story, it'll all make sense later on, trust me. ;) Oh, and this is placed about fifth season of SG1 and long after the last season of MacGyver.
"I'm sorry, but could you explain that again?"
"Geez! For a scientist you sure don't understand anything!" Colonel Jack O'Neill complained taking a swallow from his beer and setting it back on the side table in his living room.
Dr. Daniel Jackson's face scrunched up as he retorted. "What science is there in men with sticks whacking a puck around?"
"Cute men with sticks," Major Samantha Carter murmured with a grin on her face and a mischievous glint to her eyes that were quite solidly fixated on the television screen. The rest of the occupants turned to stare at her with open surprise.
"Right," Jack murmured. "That was definitely more than I needed to hear." Carter just shrugged, still grinning, but with a glance in his direction Jack knew she was teasing him now.
"Why do the warriors battle each other when the 'puck' is elsewhere?" Teal'c suddenly asked. They turned to see that the game had paused while two hockey players attempted to rustle the shirts off each other's backs.
O'Neill shrugged, "That's just part of the game."
Grins spread across the rest of SG1's faces, but the jaffa seemed intent on ignoring them. Jack sighed and leaned back feeling somewhat content with the world. It was nice to spend time with his team in a non-official manner. They didn't do it nearly enough, but they saw each other so often now, to Jack, they'd practically become his family. Already they'd spent the evening together, watching videos, eating pizza, just chatting, and currently watching a hockey game as the night wound down. Life just couldn't get any better.
A soft rapping at the door interrupted his growing serenity. Feeling somewhat cheated Jack grumbled, "Now what?" And got up to see just who would be at his door at this time of night. Like an echo of his thoughts Carter curiously questioned, "Who would be here so late?"
Allowing some of his better fantasies to pass through his mind of what he'd do if it were an airman here to declare an emergency Jack gave himself a minute before actually opening the door. "Yes?" But who he found on his door step wasn't anyone he might have possibly expected.
The man on Jack O'Neill's porch was dressed in tight jeans and a baggy black hooded sweatshirt and hopped from foot to foot keeping his hands tucked under his arms for warmth. The guy was obviously frozen, and in need of help but Jack was too shocked to say anything and in the next moment a face completely identical to his own smirked up at him. "Hey Jack."
For one long second Jack didn't know what to say, they with a fury of alarm stepped out onto the porch closing the door tightly behind him. Whispering harshly Jack demanded, "What your doing here?!"
Brown eyes glistening with humor, the man easily quipped, "Nice to see you, too."
Jack frowned, giving the man who could have been his identical twin a quick look over realizing instantly that something was more than normally wrong. Blue colored the guy's lips and for all the man was practically dancing on the spot to keep warm, it was obvious he'd long since run out of the energy to do so.
With a grimace, Jack met those brown eyes that could have belonged to him and stated stubbornly, "No, it's not. Why didn't you call? And for crying out loud pull up your hood before someone sees you, I have company!"
The other man looked startled but was quick to comply. "I'm sorry Jack, I didn't have time to take the normal route or I would have. I'm in trouble, I need your help."
"Someone doesn't know, do they?" Jack asked with concern and even a bit of fear that was normally unprecedented for the famous Colonel Jack O'Neill.
Once again the man smirked but responding with full seriousness said, "No, but I didn't have anywhere else to turn."
Jack just nodded, then looking back at the illuminated window thought for a moment. He saw the curtain twitch and hoped that no one had seen who his front porch guest was. In any case Jack figured he'd find out in a minute. "Go around back, I'll let you in in a few."
The man just nodded and jogged off around the house, white sneakers standing out amongst the shadows till they disappeared around the corner. Worried O'Neill scanned the quiet street looking for any signs of trouble, but it was as silent as it should have been. Only somewhat satisfied, Jack stepped back inside, entering the welcomed warmth of his house. They really didn't get enough time off.
The rest of his team was still sitting on the couches and looked up at him expectantly, but none of them burst out with any exclamations about O'Neill's double, which meant they most likely hadn't seen who he'd been talking to. Somehow Jack didn't think they'd be able to stay quiet if they had realized the man on his porch looked just like their CO.
"Sir?" Carter asked, breaking the silence.
"If it's alright with you guys, I'd like to call it a night?" Jack half-asked, half-stated.
The members of SG-1 stood up of course, but they seemed reluctant to leave. "You know, if there's anything we can-" Daniel hesitantly began.
Raising a hand to stop him, Jack smiled at them all. "Everything's fine. I just got some news I'd rather not and I need time to digest it," he told them, keeping it to the half-truths he was best at. Seeing them open their mouths to offer help again, Jack quickly added, if a bit more forcefully than he'd intended, "Alone."
They all nodded, with slightly grave looks on Daniel and Sam's faces as they grabbed their jackets. "Sir," Carter began again as he opened the door for them.
Jack just smiled back. "I'll be fine Carter."
She nodded and stepped outside, Daniel right behind her. Teal'c followed as well, but not before stopping at the door, pulling on his hat to cover his tattoo, and saying in a matter of fact tone of voice, "Some challenges a man must meet on his own, and others he must not."
Jack grinned, and then gripped Teal'c's shoulder in appreciation. "Thanks buddy."
Teal'c minutely nodded and stepped outside. With a sigh, Jack closed the door behind them. He hated lying to them like that, but like Teal'c had said, some things a man had to do on his own, or almost on his own. With a grim expression he walked through his kitchen to the back door and opening it let his new guest in.
"Thanks." The guy said, stepping into the warmth and pulling the hood off before tucking his hands back under his arms.
Jack just nodded, closing the door and motioning to the table. "Want something to drink?"
The man waited in silence as Jack put some water on the stove and pulled out a couple tea packets from the cupboard. It wasn't his usual thing, but Jack had found tea handy to have around especially during those times the doctor had SG-1's injured banned from coffee. He waited until he was able to place the warm mugs down on the table before sitting and finally demanding, "Alight MacGyver, what's going on?"
MacGyver, O'Neill's exact look alike, with perhaps a few less worry lines around the eyes, gripped the mug and took a sip with a look of intense pleasure. Jack had to wonder just how long the man had been stuck outside. "I stumbled across something."
"Where?" Jack asked, almost dredging the answer.
MacGyver took another sip. "Oregon."
Jack took an unconscious breath. If the man had said Egypt he would have had to kill him, if just out of spite!
"Several months ago a contractor digging for some resort several miles outside of Portland discovered what could very well be the discovery of the century." MacGyver began. Jack almost laughed; he'd heard those words more times than he could count in the last few years. Mac didn't seen to notice Jack's momentary smile and continued, "A talented Archeologist by the name of James Steel headed up the excavation but was killed shortly after, in an accident." He said the last part with a touch of sarcasm.
Jack regarded the man across from him. The man who looked so much like himself. Then the Colonel simply stated, "You don't think so."
MacGyver leaned back with a resigned sigh. He still gripped the mug in one hand, but he wasn't shaking anymore and the color was quickly returning to his face. "No," He told Jack. "I convinced Pete to let the Phoenix Foundation buy out the land, recompense the contractors and take over the dig." Jack nodded, sounded like Mac. Then Mac shook his head. "I thought at first maybe it'd been the previous land owner wanting to speed things up, but not anymore. I don't know who these guys are."
"What guys?" Jack asked sharply.
"A few days ago they grabbed me from the site. Wanted information, but I'd swear they knew more about the dig than I did."
"Just how the hell did you end up here, in Colorado?"
Mac laughed, "Actually, this just happened to be where they brought me. Some old warehouse in the middle of town. I broke out yesterday morning and the second I realized where I was I headed here."
"Walking no doubt," Jack grumbled. He didn't like any bit of what he'd heard and was torn between throwing this man out and helping him. He already knew it'd be the latter; there was too much instinct there to simply ignore. O'Neill stood up pushing his untouched mug towards Mac and took the empty one around the counter to the sink. "Just how exactly did you find my place? I've moved since you last visited."
MacGyver laughed, relaxing even further into the chair as he half drained the second mug. Grinning slyly he replied, "Come on Jack, you know the answer to that as well as I do."
Frowning with discouragement, Jack murmured, "Be grateful I wasn't at work." Then he added louder, "Speaking of which, I can't skip work, in fact I'll be gone for the next couple of days so I don't know how much help I can actually be."
MacGyver shrugged, but Jack still caught the keen look of disappointment in the man's eyes. "I just need a place to lay low till I can figure out what to do."
Mac cut him off, "I don't want to get them involved, too much danger."
"Gee, thanks for the consideration," Jack griped, but then sighed and even smiled at the man. "Alright, you can stay." Mac grinned back and Jack added with mock admonition. "Just don't blow up my house while I'm gone!"
The man held up his hand with two fingers pointing skyward. "Scouts honor."
"Like you were ever a scout," Jack retorted with good humor. Why this? Why now? He couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, that in the end they'd end up risking the truth. But equal were his feelings of protection. And that they should be, Jack realized, Mac was, after all, blood…sort of.
That feeling of unease had only grown over the course of the night but Jack hadn't found any signs that Mac might have been followed, or that 'these people' might know where he was. No, the morning looked every bit as normal as the previous one.
He still didn't like leaving Mac alone, especially since his team was due to embark on a mission today and even if everything went smoothly, which it rarely did, they wouldn't be due back till tomorrow at the earliest. Sometimes Jack wished he could just call in sick without the full physical required to prove it. Maybe he could convince Janet to forge it for him, or he could try playing on the excuse he used last night…right before a mission? Not without explanations.
Jack sighed and dumping his half eaten breakfast in the trash reached into the fridge for a beer instead.
"I doubt that's normally allowed before work." Jack didn't turn around until he had the cap off. It was like hearing his own voice in his head…not too far from the truth really.
"I don't need another conscience, thanks!" Jack stated, determinedly taking a swallow as if to prove his point. Mac had just entered, dressed now in some of Jack's clothes and looking far more rested then the day before. If a person walked in right then and saw them together like this, chances were real good they wouldn't be able to tell the one from the other.
MacGyver grinned and leaning against the counter, questioned, "Still getting the affects?"
"According to my physician, I'm a 'fast healer.'" But Jack put the bottle down with a bit of disgust. "The stuff barely effects me now. By the time I get to work there won't even be a trace of alcohol in my system. And what about you? What's with the hair? Why'd you cut it?" Jack demanded, and then added with a somewhat envious smile, "I liked it long."
Mac automatically ran a hand through the short grays, a self-conscious look covering his face. "Ya, that. It looked good long when it had color, but now that it's gray…" he left the explanation hanging, then laughed, a soft, good natured laugh. "Things have changed. I would never have expected you to have company over."
"Ya, ya," Jack grumbled but smiled. "They're my team." He explained, and then asked softly. "How's your son, Sam?"
"He's good. He's safe. Off in England right now actually. Taking a break on his journalism to get a Masters. Quantum physics. He's decided to move his journalism into the science field and wanted to have a bit more than pen and paper to help him along the way."
Startled, Jack automatically asked, "Does he know?"
But Mac shook his head. "Thinks he's just like his dad." With a look between them they left it at that.
"I've got to get going," Jack said heading for the door. "Under no circumstances do you open the door or answer the phone. And leave the lights off, as far as anyone is concerned, no one is here, got it?"
MacGyver nodded and grinned, "I got it Jack. This isn't the first time, you know."
Jack just gave him a look, and then shaking a finger in the man's face stated adamantly, "I mean it, no blowing up my house!"
Smirking, Mac gave Jack a push. "Go, before you're late."
Grumbling under his breath Jack finally left, but when he looked back he couldn't help but wonder if he'd be buying yet another home this year.
The bad feeling was still sitting hard in his stomach once he got on the road, enough that he decided it was worth the detour to the gas station before work this morning. He should have known better than to follow his feelings at this point.
Tossing the pink stuff onto the passenger seat, Jack was so distracted by visions of his house in flame and ruin that he didn't even realize he wasn't alone in his truck until he felt the unmistakable pressure of the barrel of a gun being jabbed into his side.
Sighing with resignation Jack left his hands resting on the wheel. The second he saw Mac on his front porch he knew things were bound to get bad. A hard and gravely voice growled out from the cramped spot behind the front seat, "Thought you'd get away from here did you MacGyver? I didn't think you were into stealing, I underestimated you."
"You'd be surprised," Jack murmured feeling more than a little disgruntled.
"Close the door MacGyver, we're going on a trip."
Jack silently chastised himself and internally grumbled, I hate it when my feelings are right!
Sam watched as Daniel silently fidgeted in place. All of SG-1 was waiting in General Hammond's office. Colonel O'Neill hadn't shown up this morning and was now at least three hours late. They'd tried calling his home, his cell, the pager, even the hospitals on the off chance he'd been in an accident. In their line of duty, it was just as likely he'd been kidnapped, although she couldn't think of anything suspicious…except last night.
They'd told the General how Jack had gotten 'news' of something that seemed to greatly bother him. Sam personally wondered about that, she's been the one who'd peaked out the window and saw what looked like some hooded jogger talking to the Colonel. They obviously knew each other but the whole occurrence just seemed odd to her. All they were waiting for now was permission to go searching the manual way. There just wasn't anything else to go on.
It was yet another ten minutes before the General returned, enough time for SG-1 to have already worked out and refined their hunt and search pattern at least three times over. Settled on a plan of action, Sam and Teal'c were going to try Jack's house first while Daniel checked out some of Jack's more common stomping grounds. They were bound to find something.
MacGyver lay crashed out on the couch. He'd drawn all the curtains closed to be sure he wouldn't be seen, and dutifully ignored the constant ringing of the phone through the morning but it was a testament to how tired he really was when he fell dead asleep. He hadn't meant to, it just sort of happened. The last few days had been extremely long, and last night had been one of his first times in a proper bed again.
He'd even taken a peak in the mirror this morning and had been pleased to find that all the bruises that had spotted his skin not two days before had all but faded from sight, a couple more hours and they'd be gone altogether. He just needed some sleep.
Mac knew he should be thinking about what to do next, but there really wasn't much he could do yet. He needed Jack's help, and only Jack's help. Of coarse, he hadn't told Jack anything about that yet, and personally didn't look forward to that particular conversation, but in the mean time he still had to wait till Jack returned. He'd said a couple days, but obviously didn't know for sure. And as Mac dropped off to sleep he idly wondered just what kind of work Jack did for the Air Force these days.
Daniel pulled open the door of the gas station. It was the first place that had come to mind knowing Jack didn't normally make any stops before work. He'd just approached the counter, smiling at the young woman who practically beamed back at him as his cell phone began to vibrate.
Pulling it out, he smiled apologetically to the cashier and stepped back outside. The woman sighed with some small resignation but obligingly turned to her next customer. Outside, Daniel flipped the phone open. "Yes?"
"It's Sam. We found him, he's asleep on his couch."
"Asleep?" Daniel asked surprised. "That's not like him."
"I know," Sam replied, worry in her voice. "I guess we all have our bad days. We're waking him now. I'm sure everything's fine so I'll see you back at the base. If it's not I'll give you another call."
"All right." Daniel clicked the phone shut, looking idly about and then briefly back at the cashier before walking back to his own vehicle. There was no point in asking if they'd seen Jack now.