This story was originally posted as Monkey Shines at MiniOTP and is Part Three of the Monkey Screaming series. It has undergone some editing and revision. Although it can be read as a stand-alone story in a series, it might make more sense if you read the first two stories - although you will still be able to understand the story as long as you know that the rest of SG-1 had themselves cloned after Jon (Jack O'Neill's clone from Fragile Balance) pretty much had a mental meltdown.
Due to the sexual nature of the relationship arc between Jon and Alexandra (Sam's clone), Part 4(Hellbringers-not yet completed) WILL NOT be posted here or at Gateworld. Nor will any subsequent installments in the series should there be any. The entire series(as available) will be posted at Heliopolis( Helio 2 for Parts 3 and later).
The final chapter is the only sexually explicit chapter, but it is explicit in its original form. For posting here, part of chapter 22 has been deleted. The location has been indicated in the chapter itself. Anyone wishing to view the chapter in its full version can find the whole story at Heliopolis 2.
"You did what?"
Jon rubbed his palms nervously against his jeans and smiled at Alex brightly.
"I signed us up as flyer carriers. We start next week," he repeated, determinedly ignoring the varying expressions of shock being directed his way.
Daniel stared at the Life Skills textbook in his hand with dismay."I thought Harper approved us doing our job skills credits with the SGC."
Jon grimaced."He did. But Mckenzie and Warner are both concerned it's too close a connection, too soon. They think the SGC is too adaptable. They want us to have more of a history away from our other selves first."
"They have a point," Alex said quietly.
There was no response other than a grunt from Daniel. Jon knew his face was expressionless, but when he looked away from Alex, he saw Will watching him with sympathy. It had been hard on them all, adjusting. She had tried hard to forgive him, but in her eyes, he could see that she had not forgotten. It was a bitter reminder of his failed marriage, and it was made worse by the fact that this time, it really had been his fault. Not an accident. Not a miscalculation. He had known what he was doing.
Things had been...tense.
Jon looked at the Life Skills project brochure in his hand and his smile faded. He had won a partial victory. Won back Major Carter. Won back the right to be her commanding officer, even if that was not what he was anymore. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say he had won back his soul. His team. The person he was when they looked at him and saw Colonel O'Niell. It was going to have to be enough.
He could not risk it again.
Jon had taken one look at the unfilled positions left in the Life Skills program and nearly had a heart-attack. He had been hoping for a video store job for Will, and maybe something at the University for Daniel. Nothing. Fry guy at Mcdonald's was still available. Carter...god, what a disaster in the making that would be. With her twitchy reflexes and current state of mind she needed something physically exhausting or mentally challenging. Otherwise Harper would be prescribing medication.
Or they would be bailing her out of jail.
He had stumbled over Mrs Martin while she tried to talk her sociopathic cat out of a tree. Fluffy and he had had an interesting chat, and after a hero's reward of a dozen really good chocolate chip cookies, he had clued into the fact that Mrs. Martin had spent the last fifteen minutes complaining about her flyer delivery people. Something about rose bushes.
Before he could reconsider, he walked into the largest distributor he could find and asked the manager if he could use four reliable delivery people. Jon dropped Jack's name as a reference and after the startled manager made a quick call to the SGC, he hired Jon on the spot.
Flyer routes were perfect for them. Forget the money, the independent nature of the work would keep them from suffering close contact with management and customers alike. The deliveries were on a deadline, but they would be free to work them into existing timetables rather that the other way around. All in all, a good thing for them. It was not until he watched them flip through the file folders and start hashing out a plan of attack that he admitted another reason.
They never blinked twice when they discovered their file folders stuffed with photocopies of road maps with transparent overlays showing elevations. They all had bikes, and Jon had used his own money to purchase two equipment trailers, the kind that bolted onto the rear wheel of the bike and were pulled along behind. Once the flyers were bundled into individual plastic bags, they could probably carry about a hundred and fifty each load. That would mean several trips back to whichever apartment was acting as command central, as well as careful coordination between all four bikes and riders, including due consideration for hills, one-way streets, and roads with no shoulders.
Within two hours, his kitchen wall looked like they were about to launch on Goa'uld occupied territory.
Which was fine with him.
If he was going to keep them, first he had to get them back.