A Vacation at Jack's Place, by OughtaKnowBetter (PG-13)

[sg-fignewton.livejournal.com]

Rec Category: Teamy Goodness

Pairing: None
Category:  team, gen, humor, drama, action/adventure, hurt/comfort
Warnings: Danny-whumping
Author on LJ: unknown
Author's Website: OughtaKnowBetter at Heliopolis
Link to Story: A Vacation at Jack's Place

Why This Must Be Read: This entertaining story begins with a light note, as Teal'c and Jack kick back at Jack's cabin in Minnesota, waiting for Sam and Daniel to join them on their vacation. Things quickly go south when Daniel overhears a terrorist plot at a roadside diner and starts a chain of events that includes hapless FBI agents, Teal'c in excellent tracking and looming mode, Sam disarming bombs at airports, Colonel Jack in superb black ops mode, Daniel translating both Farsi and that "unusual subset of ancient Egyptian that you've been working on," ribbon devices, "daughter" ships... as General Hammond wryly observes, "Only Jack O'Neill can find a Goa'uld in Minnesota."

It's just lovely to see SGC-standard competence from both SG-1 and the other SG teams when they're working on Earth. Teal'c's POV sections are particularly enjoyable, as he attacks the art of fishing with fierce intensity and considers The Three Stooges DVDs that he's working through at the moment. There's lots to enjoy for each team member, though, not just Teal'c - Sam smoothly taking over whenever the situation demands, Jack outmaneuvering the FBI agent who quickly realizes he's way out of his league, Daniel doing his best, even while being hunted, to save another person's life and keep going until his teammates can catch up and help him. Treasure maps, booby traps, disgruntled locals and terrorist camps... This wonderful story is a mix of exciting plot, wonderful characterization, great dialogue, and delightful teamy goodness.

"You have twelve hours to solve this, Frauhoffer," O'Neill said, making a point of checking his watch. "That gives you until first thing tomorrow morning. I will be calling my superiors to let them know what I already know: that you are thoroughly out-classed by a cell of outcast terrorists so stupid that their superiors stationed them out in the middle of nowhere. As soon as I make that call, a platoon of highly motivated and enthusiastic Air Force Special Ops are going to descend on this sleepy town and give it a thorough wake-up call. And the only reason is will take twelve hours is because they have to fill out the damn paperwork to requisition a car to drive up here after they requisition a jet to land at the nearest air force base. But if I find something that I find alarming, Agent Frauhoffer, then the call I make will be a little more pungent, in which case the Special Ops squad is going to use the requisition paperwork for target practice and parachute their way down in a matter of minutes. Do I make myself clear?"

Frauhoffer didn't look happy, and his five o'clock shadow was working on nine PM. "Dr. Jackson is that important?"

"Dr. Jackson is that important," O'Neill affirmed. "In fact, he's so important that I'm not going to wait for tomorrow morning to begin my own search. I'm going to start right now, and you're going to give me what you've got. Talk."

"This is my investigation--"

"And my man is missing, after yours took him away. I know my team, Special Agent Frauhoffer. How well do you know yours?"

"Special Agent Turner comes with a fine record--"

"Translation: you've never met him before in your life. For all you know, he could be a secret member of the little cult in the woods a few miles away across the lake." O'Neill could have made it much more cutting. But he was just getting started. Carter estimated that the really good stuff wouldn't flow until close to the morning. "How many field operations in the back country have you conducted?"

"I've been with the FBI for over six years--"

O'Neill cut him off. "That's not what I asked, which means you don't have much of a record. You've handled investigations in cities where there are stoolies and teams of forensic specialists to tell you what to do." He uncrossed his arms to point a finger at Frauhoffer. "Here's what's going to happen. You and your team are going to scour the roads between here and town, and you are going to find out where and how and who took out a crack team"--the sarcasm flowed a little more heavily--"of FBI agents and one national treasure."

"And what are you going to be doing?" Frauhoffer asked, outclassed and knowing it and resenting it.

O'Neill looked over at Carter, who didn't know whether to smile at O'Neill's tactics or bite her lip with worry. "You remember, Major, when I said that as long as that group across the lake didn't bother me, that I wasn't about to bother them?"

"Yes, sir."

"They are now bothering me."