moonbeamsfanfic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
moonbeamsfanfic) wrote2006-07-22 01:02 am
moonbeamsfanfic) wrote2006-07-22 01:02 am
Entry tags:
New Fic: Stargate SG-1/Highlander crossover!
Jack-fic the First! Written for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
10_inspirations challenge. One down, nine to go! :D
Title: Homecoming
Author: Moonbeam's Predilections
Genre: Stargate SG-1 (season 8)/ Highlander crossover
Rating: G
Word count: 480
Prompt: Word #10 - Slugabed
~*~*~*~*~
Jack was half-way through the front door before it occurred to him that, contrary to how he'd left it prior to the past week's off-world mission, it was unlocked. He froze with one foot across the threshold.
Sharp eyes scanning his home for any visible signs of disturbance, Jack quietly sidled over to the coat closet and the gun secreted away in its depths. Slowly, Jack eased the .38 from under a baseball cap. Some bullets were retrieved from the pocket of a winter coat he'd never worn in all the 20+ years he'd owned it. Moving carefully to make no additional noise, he loaded the pistol one bullet at a time until he was satisfied he was armed.
Then he moved out to start reconnoitering the potentially hostile territory of his own house.
He started through the darkened living room, choosing to leave the lights off and navigate by memory alone. A quick perusal not only turned up no intruders, it eliminated the idea of robbery as motive for the break-in. His television, stereo, and a dozen other valuable and easily stealable items were still sitting pretty in their places. Jack couldn't help noticing that not even the week's worth of dust they'd collected while he'd been gone had been disturbed.
Moving even more cautiously now because, quite frankly, robbery had been the least threatening scenario to have flashed through his mind, he moved on to the kitchen.
One look at the beer bottles lined up on his dining table with the folded note bearing the name "Jonathan" in front of them, and Jack tucked his gun away with a sigh.
There were only three people in his life who ever called him by his given name, not counting the various and sundry telemarketers who'd give the System Lords a run for their money in sheer evil annoyingness: his third grade teacher, Mrs. Patterson; his mother, god bless her soul in heaven; and his father, who'd probably looked god in the face and given him that "I know something you don't know" smirk.
Ruefully, Jack mentally acknowledged that's probably where he'd picked up his habit of Goa'uld-baiting. Ah well, at least he'd come by it honestly, he smiled to himself.
Still grinning, Jack reached out and unfolded the note.
Jonathan,
If you happen to come home tonight, there's a plate of left-over sweet'n'sour ribs in the fridge waiting for you. I'm tired, so I'm going to bed. Try not to wake me if you have to leave at some insanely early hour in the morning, Mr. Brigadier General. (And when were you going to tell me about that, hmmm, young man?)
P.S. You're out of beer.
Love,
Dad.
Jack chuckled quietly, and resolved to help Methos greet the dawn in the tried and true method perfected during his childhood. All he needed was the balloon.
The water was the easy part.
10_inspirations challenge. One down, nine to go! :DTitle: Homecoming
Author: Moonbeam's Predilections
Genre: Stargate SG-1 (season 8)/ Highlander crossover
Rating: G
Word count: 480
Prompt: Word #10 - Slugabed
~*~*~*~*~
Jack was half-way through the front door before it occurred to him that, contrary to how he'd left it prior to the past week's off-world mission, it was unlocked. He froze with one foot across the threshold.
Sharp eyes scanning his home for any visible signs of disturbance, Jack quietly sidled over to the coat closet and the gun secreted away in its depths. Slowly, Jack eased the .38 from under a baseball cap. Some bullets were retrieved from the pocket of a winter coat he'd never worn in all the 20+ years he'd owned it. Moving carefully to make no additional noise, he loaded the pistol one bullet at a time until he was satisfied he was armed.
Then he moved out to start reconnoitering the potentially hostile territory of his own house.
He started through the darkened living room, choosing to leave the lights off and navigate by memory alone. A quick perusal not only turned up no intruders, it eliminated the idea of robbery as motive for the break-in. His television, stereo, and a dozen other valuable and easily stealable items were still sitting pretty in their places. Jack couldn't help noticing that not even the week's worth of dust they'd collected while he'd been gone had been disturbed.
Moving even more cautiously now because, quite frankly, robbery had been the least threatening scenario to have flashed through his mind, he moved on to the kitchen.
One look at the beer bottles lined up on his dining table with the folded note bearing the name "Jonathan" in front of them, and Jack tucked his gun away with a sigh.
There were only three people in his life who ever called him by his given name, not counting the various and sundry telemarketers who'd give the System Lords a run for their money in sheer evil annoyingness: his third grade teacher, Mrs. Patterson; his mother, god bless her soul in heaven; and his father, who'd probably looked god in the face and given him that "I know something you don't know" smirk.
Ruefully, Jack mentally acknowledged that's probably where he'd picked up his habit of Goa'uld-baiting. Ah well, at least he'd come by it honestly, he smiled to himself.
Still grinning, Jack reached out and unfolded the note.
Jonathan,
If you happen to come home tonight, there's a plate of left-over sweet'n'sour ribs in the fridge waiting for you. I'm tired, so I'm going to bed. Try not to wake me if you have to leave at some insanely early hour in the morning, Mr. Brigadier General. (And when were you going to tell me about that, hmmm, young man?)
P.S. You're out of beer.
Love,
Dad.
Jack chuckled quietly, and resolved to help Methos greet the dawn in the tried and true method perfected during his childhood. All he needed was the balloon.
The water was the easy part.
no subject
It's rather difficult to get around the cliches, so I commiserate. Even when I started my fic with a Hammond connection I ended up with a Danny connection. And there's nothing wrong with Jack being the cliche connection. We like Jack! Although I really wish there was more Mitchell fic. I'm growing rather fond of the whole Cameron/Danny dynamic.
I'll concede that he'd tell maybe half of his wives/familes/lovers that he was Immortal, but I think that only a handful of those would learn about this true identity. I don't think he even told Alexa, but then those circumstances are complicated by the fact that she was dying. It's not polite to say to your dying girlfriend or wife "Hey, sorry that you're dying. I'm Immortal by the way, and I'm going to live forever."
For the most part, yeah. It took a few days to get my brother to format and then to put Windows and such back on. It took even longer to get things like Office and Media Player and all the important things... and since I was doing it myself and I'm technologically inept, it took a while. Then I managed to get sick, so that was another week gone. But I'll be back to fic writing next week. Speaking of which - you haven't gotten back to me with the latest beta of Convergence. No hurry, just wondering how it's going.
Oh, and a plotbunny attacked me quite viciously with a Dean/Riddick pairing - and isn't that just the best pairing ever? Okay, so not the best, but close.
no subject
Ahhh, you're gonna be on your own there, sorry Shifty. I like Cameron just fine, but I don't get the current fandom's "OMG, he's the great thing ever!" mentality at all. In fact, I kinda feel betrayed by it. I adored Jack so much, even with all the fuck-ups to his characterization TPTB caused by throwing Carter at him. I still miss Jack, and while I don't mind watching the new version of the show, I'll never like it at as much as I did the original pre-Ascension stuff.
Nor can I see Cameron as a potential romantic interest for pretty much anyone, to be honest. He's too much of an overeager puppy for that -- cute and loveable in his own way, but too much work to deal with for long periods. (And there's a reason I'm mostly a cat person, you know... ;P)
Speaking of which - you haven't gotten back to me with the latest beta of Convergence.
Oh, um... I kinda thought I had. Huh. Anyway, no biggie... I remember that there wasn't much left to do anyway. So while I'm pretty sure I'd sent you back an email with my last few comments, it doesn't matter if it got sucked off into some cyberspace blackhole. It was only a couple of short points anyway, I believe.
If I recall correctly, the only thing I had to say was general agreement with each of your corrections -- especially the one about John explaining Dean's absences (when Manticore wanted him) as a child to Sammy. I remember really liking that reasoning.
Oh, and I also ceded to you on the X-series' ages thing. A review of the eps themselves enlightened me that the show never explicitly stated anybody's age. It's more likely then that my previous suppositions of their ages were more fanon assumptions than canon, and quite possibly wrong. Whatever you think would work best then is all that's important.
Other than that, I think you did good and it's probably ready for posting whenever you are. ;)
no subject
I liked Jack well enough (though Danny'll always be my favourite), but the relationship just never felt equal to me, whereas the Danny/Cameron one does. Plus, he's getting a little better with the whole puppy dog thing now.
I think it must have been sucked off into cyberspace since the last I had to do with it I was arguing about the ages of the X-series. And since you made a reply about that which I never got... well yahoo works it's magic again... So if there wasn't anything too important that I need to change I'll get to posting it sometime tonight. Then I'll get busy with the last bit of OA which I've been shamelessly avoiding.