He had, in his fairly short SG team career, become quite used to getting hit by a zat blast. So, it made a nice change to have been knocked out by an old-fashioned blow to the back of the head.

"I'm just saying; this was about as predictable as Louise getting pregnant."

Now, if the pixies in his head would stop hitting his brain cells with their tiny hammers he might actually consider moving.

"Again? She and Dave do know that Earth has a variety of birth control options."

"Says the man whose insatiable thirst for knowledge apparently didn't include that."

Or even opening his eyes.

"I am fully cognizant on a number of birth control methods, and their associated risk of failure… Unfortunately, the second part after the fact. What's that now? Five? Six?"

"God, could you imagine six miniature Dixons running around."

Cameron Mitchell cranked an eye open gently, then shut it again when the hammering intensified. Metal scraped against metal in the direction of the two voices.

"Anyway, I don't think the situation is that bad." He could almost hear Jonas' cheerful grin. "We haven't been called meat bags, yet."

"Let's not bring that experience up again. I believe being locked in a cell automatically moves the situation to bad. If that's not enough of a hint for you."

Cam forced his mind away from the conversation, and tried to focus on what happened before the world went dark. He remembered arriving through the gate with SG-1 and SG-5. He remembered Jonas doing the meet and greet with some guys the old SG-1 had met previously. He remembered getting bored while Jonas went to stare at some oversized shopping list. He remembered (and sympathised with) Kaufman falling into an alien rabbit hole. He remembered Colonel Harper sending Kaufman back to the SGC with Williams. He remembered being asked to come see some head honcho and going there with Sgt. Bradley. He remembered having Teal'c, and the newbie go do a defensive check of the area. He remembered an urgent radio message from Jonas to-

"He's not the safest person to be around if you can't get him to keep his mouth shut," muttered Colonel Harper.

"We all make mistakes, and these things can't be predicted. They just happen."

"I predicted it. From the moment the idea was floated, I said, didn't I, Ben?"

"You sure did," replied Bradley.

"How's the head?"

"Still attached." Ditto, thought Cam .

"You know, I said-" He's a shiny fly-boy who got lucky. He definitely wasn't going to make it into Colonel Harper's good books any time soon.

"Hey," said Jonas, "I did suggest you go for it when Sam decided to move on."

Cam opened his eyes slightly. Thanks for the vote of confidence, team-mate, he thought.

"And you knew I was never going to ask for it. I still say they should've got Alex to lead SG-1."

"Throw in Nyan, and we'd be an all alien team."

"Sure why not? Okay, you get to keep Mitchell, but Alex has more than the skills, and the experience, needed to lead a frontline exploration unit." There was a pause, and Cam tried not to picture a team with Alex at the helm. He imagined he would be quite accurate in thinking it wouldn't be much fun since Alex hated his guts. Mind you, Alex seemed to hate everyone. "Also, the UST element would be hilarious." Except Jonas.

The scraping noise stopped. "UST? How do you even know that term?"

"I'm down with the kids. I'm a hip dad. It's all rad, man."

"I see Dean is too well-mannered to inform you of how uncool, and excessively embarrassing you are."

Luckily, his own quiet laugh was smothered by the sound of a badly hidden snort from Sgt. Bradley.

"Are you agreeing with Mr. Quinn?"

"Permission to speak freely?" asked Bradley.

"No chance."

"Then no, sir. Colonel, sir!"

"I'm beginning to feel my authority is waning around here. You. Zip it."

"Yes, sir!" replied Jonas. The metallic scraping restarted. "It's RST now anyway."

"What?! Does Beth know?"

"She suggested it."

Oh God, Cam really didn't want to hear this. He should make some move to indicate he had returned to the land of the living.

Okay, not just yet. Not when the pixies had upgraded to pneumatic drills.

"This isn't going to be disgusting, or fun, is it?"

"Honestly? Much as I'd like to, I'm a bit too busy to lie to you right now." Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. "Anyway, what were we saying?"

"Cameron Mitchell, ies mifryn uven a squirit ef asal arba."

Now he didn't understand any of that after his name, but something told him it wasn't completely polite.

"That's not right."

Did he mention; thanks for sticking up for me, team-mate?

"It isn't?"

"No. There's a implied 'you are' in that sentence. When you are talking about someone else it should be 'haev e'." Scrape, click, scrape. "Or just 'e', but don't do that near any oldies otherwise you end up with a rant about the how Kelownan youth these days have no respect for the mother tongue. So it would be 'Shaft, e mifryn uven a squirit ef asal arba.'"

Yes. Thanks for nothing.

"Shaft, e mifryn uven a squirit ef asal arba?"


Cam wondered if he could get Sam to kill them both when they got back. Sure, he'd have to find another nerd, but it wasn't as if the SGC was light on the old brains department. Jonas Quinn was as replaceable as any other member of SG-1.

Click. "You, Jonas Quinn, are a bona fide genius. Alien lock picking, backwards, and blindfold. That is very cool." Damn. "Right, Ben give Mitchell a slap, and wake him up. Time to get the heck out of Dodge."

Yes, get up, get home, and go lie down somewhere quiet, and dark. Mark this one down as one of those days.

Something white enters his peripheral vision. "Guys, hi, erm… do you mind not leaving yet?"

Cam sat up. "No way! Why?"

It probably wasn't the best move - especially since it dislodged none of the crazed pixies - and certainly not with the way everyone, including Daniel Jackson, was looking at him now. Sure, he had just lost what little esteem he had around here, but that didn't matter as much as suddenly remembering what Sam said as they left this morning.

"Thirteen, eh? Unlucky for some."