Wrong Turn by Brionhet

[sulien.livejournal.com]

Rec Category: Crossover (Stargate SG-1/Profiler)
Pairing: None
Category:  h/c, Daniel whumping
Warning:  None.  PG for language and mild violence.
Author on LJ: Unknown
Author's Website: Brionhet.com
Link: "Wrong Turn"

Why This Must Be Read: One of the more unusual crossovers, centered on the TV series "Profiler".  Daniel is kidnapped, yet again, but this time he is thrown into a holding cell with special agent John Grant of the FBI's Violent Crimes Task Force (VCTF).  Questions are raised due to some very odd coincidences when they are rescued by the rest of the VCTF.  All of the characterizations are spot on and the story is well told.

Snippet of fic:


John smiled, feeling a whisper of vicarious smugness. "Apparently they had more on their hands than they anticipated. You check out Blond Grunt and Bald Grunt... I didn't do that damage. They took me down meek as a kitten. Helpless Mr. Nameless Pushover here apparently objected to being kidnapped."

"Oh, yeah?" Bailey's brows rose in surprise. "He doesn't look very dangerous. No clue as to who he is or why they wanted him?"

"No idea. He's been conscious, but pretty out of touch with the real world--drifted in and out a couple of times, but... well, he's really only said one thing I could figure out."

"And that was...?"

"'Jack.' He said it twice. Just 'Jack.'"

Bailey's face darkened. "Any reason to believe he's talking about..."

"None. And I can't see how... The Moron company out there said he was an archaeologist, for God's sake. What would an archaeologist have to do with... our... Jack?"

Bailey shook his head. "Let's see if we can get him out of here. He's been handled pretty roughly. Whatever connection he does or doesn't have to Jack of all Trades, his first stop is the hospital."

Movement at the door brought both their heads up. Dr. Samantha Waters stood for a moment, the back-lighting turning her blond hair into a halo. Then she moved quickly to John's side. Dropping to her knees, she hugged him tightly.

"You okay?" The characteristic breathless quality of her voice was a bit more exaggerated than usual. "Not hurt?"

He wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing tightly. "Fine. Really, really tired of Kentucky Fried Chicken, but otherwise just fine."

"Sam...?"

Startled, they all dropped their gazes to the man on the floor. His eyes were open again, squinting to focus on Sam's face. His expression was puzzled. Weakly, his right hand lifted to reach toward her.

"Sam?"

Bailey's body stiffened. "One coincidence I could buy."