fic: The Present Crisis, a SG-1 Quantum Leap X-over

[imported_Sandman]

NOW COMPLETED

here's parts 1-4--moved from thread 'Little Help'
Disclaimer: I don’t own SG-1 or Quantum Leap. Pity. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. Do not archive without author’s permission.
Warning: possible season 4 spoilers
Note: I try to refer to Samantha Carter by rank or surname for less confusion—Sam Beckett will be referred to (for the most part) by ‘Sam’. I tried to catch any bad words for this forum—hope I didn’t miss any.

THE PRESENT CRISIS
By
Sandman

“The more extensive a man’s knowledge of what has been done, the greater will be his power of knowing what to do.”—Benjamin Disraeli


The Beginning

This view is amazing. Wow,” Daniel Jackson murmured breathlessly. “Jack you gotta come look at this!”
Jack looked up at his friend who was perched rather precariously atop the thin, crumbling partition and swore softly. It was bad enough that Daniel walked headlong into danger everyday, but did he have to tempt the fates by dancing on a freakin’ pile of badly preserved bricks? Daniel was right though, at least this time, the view was spectacular. The team had taken up positions on a craggy ruin-covered hill that did nothing for the scenery but it looked down upon a lush green valley with a winding river so blue that it rivaled the brilliant blue sky that was spotted with soft billowy clouds. It’d be a great vacation spot, Jack thought, as if they ever got vacations. “Just be careful up there, Danny!” he shouted.
“I am, I am…” Daniel murmured. And then Jack watched horrified as his friend gasped and looked around wildly. The extra movement sent him off balance, tumbling down the hill gaining speed at an alarming rate before barreling into Jack who had tried to halt his descent. Ass over teakettle they bounced and rolled down the hill before skidding to a violent stop, a combined mass of bruised appendages.
“Daniel! Colonel!” Carter yelled and began to run down the hill towards her teammates.
Dr. Samuel Beckett, disguised in the body of Dr. Daniel Jackson, groaned and pushed himself up on his elbows and came face to face with a very angry Jack O’Neill. “Oh, boy,” Sam wheezed.

Dr. Sam Beckett stepped into the quantum leap accelerator and…vanished. He awoke to find himself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not his own. And driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. His only guide on this journey is Al, an observer from his own time, that appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear. So Dr. Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong. And hoping each time that his next leap…will be the leap home.


One
Jack hauled himself to his feet and began to brush the pale dirt from his uniform sending puffs of dust swirling around them. Jerking his hat back on his head he glared at Daniel. “For crying out loud…!” he fumed. A look of resignation flitted across his face as concern for his friend outlasted his anger. Limping over to his fallen teammate, Jack extended his hand. “You okay?”
Sam Beckett nodded his aching head and reluctantly allowed the stranger to help him gain his feet. “Think so.” Oh, Al, where are you?
“’Think so’?” Jack parroted.
As if cued, Carter and Teal’c arrived at their side. “That looked bad. Are you guys alright?” she asked slightly out of breath, overrun by Teal’c’s, “Are you badly injured?”
“I’m fine,” Jack answered for himself, pointedly looking at Daniel.
Sam, noticing the three concerned faces around him, stuttered out, “I-I’m okay.” He took the proffered spectacles the woman handed him, dusted them off and perched them upon his face. They hung slightly crooked but they weren’t cracked or otherwise broken. Apparently he wore glasses.
“Well, I’m so glad. Back to work kids,” Jack announced as he made his way back up the hill with a slight limp not quite hidden by his swagger. “Coming, Daniel?” he asked tersely.
Through the haze of confusion, Sam realized that he must be ‘Daniel’ seeing as how he was the only one not already hiking back up the hill. “Uh, yeah, sorry. Sir,” he added belatedly, as he noticed that everyone, including himself, was wearing combat fatigues, and that the angry man seemed to be in charge. Sam did not miss the peculiar look the man shot in his direction, though he was at a loss as to why. Now would be a really good time, Al.


“Alright, Daniel, do your thing,” Jack said waving an arm at the ruins. Sam just looked around, confused.
“Hit your head on the way down, did you?” Jack asked in a sarcastic drawl. “You did say that you could read this right?”
Sam turned to look at the crumbling ruins the soldier was pointing at; the writing looked like Egyptian hieroglyphics. For a moment he was excited, he could do this, he could read this. “Y-yes, Sir.” He was treated to another inscrutable look.
With an exasperated sigh and a wave of his hand, Jack said, “So go to.”
Nodding, Sam moved off to gaze at the massive structure before him, it was at least twenty feet high and covered in the fading writings. He pretended to study it further while surreptitiously watching the three people that he was supposed to already know.
Where was he? Who were these people? Who was he? They all wore uniforms and carried weapons, but while the grey haired man and the woman had automatic assault weapons, he, ‘Daniel’, only had a side arm. The tall black man carried some strange sort of staff but no guns. Wow, was he something different. He looked like a human imitation of a mountain--strong, foreboding, immovable—and he had a strange golden tattoo-type thing on his forehead. Otherwise, he would say they were Americans, especially the angry looking man. He wished they were wearing nametags, it would make his job so much easier if everyone just wore nametags. Dog tags! Military would have dog tags. He felt under his shirt and jacket for the metal ID but found none. Well, there goes that easy answer.
Behind him Sam could hear the distinct sound of the imaging chamber door opening. “Thank you God.”
“Uh, no, just me actually,” Al deadpanned.
“Where have you been?” he snapped angrily while trying to remain quiet and not attract unwanted attention.
Al looked up from studying the smoldering tip of his ever-present cigar. “Uh, well…we couldn’t find you.”
“Why? Never mind, never mind. Just please tell me who I am, where I am, and what I’m doing here. Tell me you know, please?”
“Well…hey! You’re an Egyptologist. That’s a plus. Your name is Doctor Daniel Andrew Jackson. Thirty-five years old. And you have a double doctorate in…” Al hit the flashing hand device and it screeched loudly. “…In, oh, well, Egyptology and linguistics. And you are…where are you?” Al asked looking around him.
Sam rolled his eyes.
The hand device squealed again as Al knocked it around. “Ziggy, where is he?”
Sam watched for a moment as Al consulted with the temperamental computer before his friend turned back to him with a sheepish look on his face. “We, uh, we have no idea where you are.”
“Daniel.” The two men had been so intent on their conversation that they didn’t here Jack approach, the single word caused them both to jump; though the hologram recovered first.
“That’s you, Sam,” Al reminded him.
Sam shot Al a glare but turned to the soldier with a tentative smile on his face.
“Daniel, how’s your head?” the man asked in a tone that seeped annoyance rather than concern.
“Uh, fine. I’m fine.” Sam’s smile widened.
Jack smiled back but it looked an awful lot like a sneer.
“Uh, oh, Sam, what’d you do?” Al asked.
“W-why?” He tried not to squirm under the other man’s intense gaze.
“Well, Daniel,” Jack drawled, “either you’re really excited about these rocks, or you’ve found an invisible playmate. What’s going on?”
“Little does he know…” Al quipped.
Sam ignored him. “Sorry, just excited.”
The grey haired soldier did not look impressed. “Hmm.”
“O’Neill!” The black man called, interrupting.
With one last puzzled glance at the young scientist, Jack stomped off to Teal’c some yards off.

“Oh, I don’t think he likes me.” Sam muttered as he watched him stalk off. Careful not to attract Jack’s attention again, he asked Al, “Who is he anyway?”
“Oh, yeah.” Al remembered his job and began jabbing at the glowing buttons on his controller. “He is Colonel Jonathan O’Neill in the United States Air Force. And…” he consulted the beeping box.
“And..?” Sam prompted.
“…And he’s, boy, this guy’s file is locked up tight. Can’t get much…Ziggy, come on…okay. He’s 43 years old, divorced. After his ten year old son, oh...”
“What?”
Al glanced up at Sam distractedly, “Oh, um, his son shot himself with his sidearm, dead on arrival. That was about four years ago. Career military, he’s been with the Air Force for twenty-five years. Apparently he retired not once, but twice, returning each time.” Al broke off, a dark look clouding his face.
“Al? What? What happened?”
Without looking at the device he answered, “He was declared MIA, KIA and later an official POW during the Gulf conflict. He spent four months courtesy of Hussein and his gang. Lives in Colorado Springs, Colorado. And that’s pretty much all I can get.”
“Is he the reason I’m here?”
“What makes you say that?” Al asked with a squint.
“I don’t know—just seems…”
“Well, actually, we don’t know yet. Ziggy’s working on it, but…”
“Well she had better hurry it up,” Sam muttered.

Two

“Daniel, isn’t this fascinating?” Carter called out from her perch high on the wall.
“It is,” Sam Beckett agreed, awestruck at both the archeological find and the breathtaking view.
Jack just grunted and kicked at a loose rock. “Alright, kids, back to work.”
Carter laughed. “Yes, Sir.”
“Yes, Sir,” Sam echoed.
“Daniel, would you knock that sh** off!” Jack yelled.
“What?”
“That ‘Sir’ ****. If you’re pissed at me fine, but stop that—it’s annoying.”
“Sorry, O’Neill?”
At Jack’s glare Al suggested, “Try Jonathan, Jon, Jonny…”
“Jon?” Sam tried meekly.
“Fine be that way, Jackson,” he spat, stomping off.
“Are you really okay?” Carter asked Sam, concern creeping into her voice.
“Uh, yeah, just a little…confused.”
“’Bout what?”
“Him. Why’s he so mad at me?”
“Well, gee, Daniel, I think he wants to know the same thing.”
“Uh, oh,” Al sang.
“Look, just call him Jack—it’ll go a long way to fixing whatever your guys’ problem is--.”
“Jack!” Al crowed.
“—and maybe you can forgive each other for…whatever your thing is with him.”
“Thanks…”
“Sam, Samantha Carter,” Al provided.
“…S-S-Sam,” Sam Beckett finished lamely.
“Sure. Oh, and Daniel, try not to knock him down any more mountains,” she added with a smile.
“Right.”



“If she wasn’t military…” Al practically drooled.
“Don’t start. So, she is military?”
Reluctantly Al pried his eyes off her and down to the handlink. “Major Samantha Carter, also Air Force, thirty-six years old, single--.”
“Stop that!”
“What?” Al asked innocently.
“That, that dating profile thing.” He took on a high pitched sing-songy voice, “Thirty-six, single, likes long romantic walks on the beach--.”
“Hey, I’m just reading what’s there. Now do you want me to continue, or not?”
Sam glared at Al but motioned for him to continue.
“Alright, she’s got her PHD in astrophysics.”
“And? That’s all?”
Al shrugged, “She worked at the pentagon before being assigned to some deep space telemetry program code named ‘Stargate’. That’s it, that’s all I have.”
Sam sighed and looked around at the expansion of rock and crumbling ruins before him. ‘Jack’ was standing off to one side overlooking the green valley below them while Sam Carter was talking with the tall black guy. “So what about him?” he asked Al.
“Who? Oh, him?” Al cocked his head to one side as if listening to someone before he yelled at the sky, “What do you mean we don’t have anything?”
Sam chucked a rock down the hill in disgust as he listened to Al rant and rave at Gushi. This has got to be one for the record books, he thought sourly.
Hearing Al finally quiet down, Sam turned expectantly to see him smoothing the creases out of his brilliant blue sports jacket and straightening his mustard colored necktie. In a calm and almost apologetic manner Al said, “Ziggy can’t get anything on him. Sorry.”
“Sorry,” Sam repeated to himself. “Sorry. And does Ziggy still not have any idea about why I’m here?”
Al winced and shook his head.
“Great!” Sam snapped, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “So, I don’t know where I am, what I’m supposed to be doing, or why I’m here, but hey, that’s okay. It’s not like this it can be a life or death situation or anything!” he hissed.
Al sucked on his cigar and waited until Sam was finished with his tirade. “Done?”
“What am I doing with all these soldiers, Al? He’s, Daniel’s, an Egyptologist for Pete’s sake!”
“He’s also a linguist, Sam, maybe he’s here to translate or something. Colonel O’Neill already ordered you to translate that…” he waved his arm at the wall, “…stuff. You can right?”
The time traveler scrunched up his face and pulled at his hair. “That could be a problem, Al.”
“Why?”
“It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before. I mean it’s…well, it’s…” He raced to the wall and began pointing at it to emphasize his point. “These are hieroglyphics and some of it’s familiar but it’s almost like it’s…well--.”
“Daniel! Is there a problem?”
“No, no problem S-Sam,” Sam Beckett called down to the major. He smiled falsely and waved a reassuring hand. “Oh, I am so over my head here, Al,” he murmured through his smile. Turning to face the wall he spoke quietly to his friend. “Alright, Al, you do…whatever it is you have to do, but I need to find out what is going on here! Someone could be in danger and I have no idea what to do!”
“Hey, don’t yell at me. It’s your brain child that can’t--.”
“All right, all right, I know.” He swiped an angry hand through his hair. “Look, maybe you can try talking to the real Daniel Jackson. Maybe he can fill us in.”
“Right. Good idea.” The handlink beeped and whirred as he began pushing the colorful buttons. “Hey, wait—what are you going to do?” he asked worriedly.
“I’m going to try to amend the situation with uh, Jack.”
Al snorted. “Watch your step, Sam.” Then, muttering to himself he said, “This could get ugly—maybe I should stick around, watch a bit.” He grinned maliciously and with a final push of a button, he vanished.
“Thanks for your confidence, Al.”

Three

“Jack?”
“What, Daniel?” he sighed and turned to Sam with a look of utter weariness. For a moment the two men said nothing as they studied the other. Then, with surprisingly genuine concern and compassion, Jack asked, “You okay? I mean are you really okay?”
With a slight nod and a careful smile, Sam tried to reassure him. “I’m okay. Really.”
Jack scrunched up his face and studied Sam like a specimen under a microscope. His expression screamed liar but he dropped the topic with a rueful shake of his head. “Have you made any headway on those translations? You got it on video yet?”
Thankful that he had taken the time to read over some of it, Sam says, “Well, actually, it’s taking me a bit longer than I, uh, planned because the dialect’s a bit unusual but…Um, I’ll go start video taping it right now.” He mentally crossed his fingers that the camera was user-friendly and somewhere obvious.
“Come on then, you can enlighten me,” Jack said with a grin that quickly faded into a grimace as he rose to a stand, his knee buckling out from under him.
Sam reached out to keep him from falling. “Are you okay, Jack?”
“Just peachy,” he muttered shaking Sam off. “Let’s go.”

Four


“I’m not falling for it this time. So why don’t you just toddle off back to whatever megalomaniac’s posing as your god this week and tell him the game’s up. I’m not falling for it,” Daniel said evenly, calmly, suppressing the rage and fear churning in his insides.
“Toddle? Kid, I’m an Admiral in the United States Navy, I do not toddle,” Al returned, unsure whether to be insulted or impressed.
“Well, goody for you. But your costume leaves something to be imagined, or did you not get that memo.” My God, what am I saying? I have definitely been hanging out around Jack too long. Daniel shook his head. This whole idea was just preposterous, even for the goa’ould. Time travel! Well, yeah, so he’d done that himself when they accidentally gated during a solar flare and ended up in 1969, but still, they didn’t seriously think that he’d fall for this, did they?
Turning his back on the strangely dressed goa’ould he forced himself to walk over to the nearest wall in the equally bizarre room, and slid down into a sitting position. He would tell them nothing.

[Dave]

It can't be a proper 'Quantum Leap' story unless you have Sam Beckett cross-dressing! For accuracy he should have leaped into Sam Carter instead of Daniel.

[gategeek]

al as a goauld -that's too funny. i guess he does have the wardrobe though. "overdressed style monger"

[Gemsong]

Good stuff here.

[imported_Bee]

I'm enjoying the fic Sandman. Good job

[Gemsong]

More please.

[imported_Bee]

Sandman this is your official....
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The mob is getting restless.

[MsGudBod]

I made it!
I due time too. I have read the added bit , enjoyed it by the way, and Am in time to join the mob in their demand for more.

More, more, more, more, more!
(i'm a bit more subdtle than Bee, for a change. LOL)

[peachy]

glad i managed to find the new thread withthe rest of your
fic on it sandman, now when are you going to post some more
this is great...peachy

[imported_Bee]

Where are you Sandman? I need a little crossover fic right now.
I need.....
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I really do like that copy and paste button

[imported_Sandman]

I am so sorry. I know i haven't updated in a while-- i'm geting right on it i swear. my computer went phhhhttt! and i spent such a long time trying to nurse it back but in the end i just bought a new one (say tata to my savings $, but oh, well). so after days of reconstruction i'm back and will update as soon as i can get it off the old comp. thank you for reading, please don't sic the dogs on me.

[Dave]

That explains your disappearence!

I like your fic really, and you must post again in the Round Robin that you started (the revenge), because I've run out of ideas, and Skydiver (her ideas are great) will take it over!

[Gemsong]

Glad you're back Sandman.

We want more.

[imported_Sandman]

--I am happy to be able to oblige. here's part five with more to come very soon (i promise)--

Five

“That is incorrect, Daniel Jackson.”
Sam did a double take, huh?
Teal’c (Sam had finally overheard his name) continued, “It is not ‘as the sky’, but rather ‘as the sun’, the two are measurably different. The two self-called gods are vastly different in nature.”
“A goa'ould’s a goa’ould,” muttered Jack.
“As a tuari is a tuari,” countered Teal’c.
“Point taken,” he conceded.
Sam’s head spun, there were those terms again, tuari, goa’ould, Tok'ra, stargate… he didn’t have a clue and yet these people tossed the words around like everyday conversation starters. So, how ‘bout those Yankees—how ‘bout those goa'oulds? Toss me another beer.
“Daniel?”
“That’s you, Sam.”
Flashing a relieved smile at his holographic friend’s return, Sam turned toward the concerned voice of Sam Carter. “Hmm?”
“The colonel’s been trying to talk to you.” Her voice held equal parts concern and irritation.
Sure enough Sam caught a glimpse of Jack’s stormy face as the man turned his back and stalked away.
“That’s it, we’re outta here. There’s something wrong with Daniel—even more so than usual,” he added with a scowl. “Pack it up.”
“Oh, Sam, what’d you do?” moaned Al.

The team marched in silence, Teal’c in the lead followed by Carter and Sam, with Jack bringing up the rear. Al was catching Sam up on the situation with the real Daniel Jackson, while Sam was trying his best not to talk back or even nod, least Jack see and get even angrier. Needless to say it took all of his concentration to do that and keep putting one foot in front of the other at the expeditious pace that had been set. So he was surprised when he was tackled from behind, a furious Jack yelling in ear.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed, Daniel!” Jack screamed. He reached down and jerked Sam’s sidearm from its canvas holster and pushed it into Sam’s hand, forcing his fingers to curl around it. For the first time Sam was aware of the sound of weapons being discharged above the background noise of Al’s shocked commentary and harried instructions.
“Run back to the gate, it’s right over this next crest. Dial home, I’ll be right behind you. And stay low!” Jack hissed, shoving Sam forward.
Oh, boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!
“Sam, duck, now!” Al yelled and Sam ducked, barely missing being hit by a large bolt of fire. “To your left, to your left!” He swerved and ducked at Al’s direction, finally topping the crest and would have stopped dead at the sight if it wasn’t for the fact that somewhere, some part of him deep down inside was still very aware that he was being chased and shot at. He ran towards the large stone ring where he could see Sam Carter and Teal'c pinned down behind a pillar, being shot at by armor clad soldiers. “Use your gun, use your gun!” Al yelled. Ducking behind a rather convenient tree trunk, Sam emptied an entire clip on the advancing soldiers, surprised at how many of his bullets had found their target, shocked at how many hits it took to take one down.
“What the hell is going on here, Al?” he yelled, then ducked as his ‘convenient tree’ burst into flames.
“I don’t know!”
“Damn it, make Daniel tell you!”
“I already told you, Sam, the kid’s convinced it’s some kind of trick being played on him by ‘golds’—duck!”
“Goa'oulds,” Sam corrected, rising and returning fire.
“That’s what I said—behind you, Sam!”
He turned and emptied what was left of his last clip into the metal-coated enemy. It dropped with a satisfying clank. “Al, I’m out. I’m out!”
“Then you use his,” Al lectured, indicating the dead opponent.
“I don’t know how to use that! It’s a, it’s a--!”
“Daniel! Go, we’ll cover you, go!” Carter yelled from across the field as she and Teal’c let loose a hail of bullets and fire.
“Where?” he yelled back and dropped to his knees to avoid another blast.
“To the gate, Daniel!” a ragged voice sounded behind him.
“Jack?”
“The Easter Bunny,” Jack croaked tumbling out from the thick bush.
“Jack!”
“Yes, you keep saying that. You have any ammo left? I’m out,” Jack said with a wince as he tore off his pack and dropped it heavily to the ground. “Don’t need this crap,” he muttered. Sam noticed the large smoking hole in the center of the green canvas backpack.
“Jack!”
“What?” Finally O’Neill turned around to face him, but never actually looked at him as he busied himself with the fallen armor plated soldier.
“You’re-you’re bleeding and you’re—.”
“Duh, Daniel. I’ve been shot. Repeatedly. Something I’m surprised hasn’t happened to you, yet. What the hell were you doing out there? You could’ve gotten someone killed—you could have been killed!” he hissed, pushing his face within inches of Sam’s own, finally meeting his eyes.
Staring deep into his friend’s eyes, letting his own fear and pain shine through, Jack hoped to finally get it through Daniel’s thick head--the risks and consequences of his actions, or inaction as the case may be. And for a moment, one horrible, gut-wrenching moment, Jack had the distinct feeling that it was not the deep blue eyes of his friend that he gazed into, but somebody—or something—else. He shook his head, this could not be happening; he couldn’t lose Daniel, not like this. Not to the goa’ould.


Sam gasped in shock as Jack unexpectedly rushed toward him and pushed him to the ground. He heard the distinct thwack as the back of his head collided with the trunk of the tree and his vision blurred. Al was yelling at him or Jack in this strange high-pitched voice that Sam couldn’t quite understand and he could see Jack’s mouth moving in large exaggerated movements as if he were screaming at him but Sam couldn’t hear him. He felt the world tilt as Jack flipped him onto his stomach and felt the other man’s rough hands on the back of his neck. And suddenly his brain and body got on the same track and he whipped his head back catching Jack in the nose, but it wasn’t enough to knock the larger man off. Years of martial arts training kicked in as he fought for his very life.



“Enough! O’Neill, Daniel Jackson, stop this fighting at once!” Teal’c bellowed. He and Major Carter had fought their way across the battle field to reach the young scientist, fearing the worst when they saw that he had remained behind rather than fleeing to the gate as instructed. When they arrived at the wooded area where they had last seen Daniel Jackson, they were greeted with the sight of the two men rolling around on the ground, heedless of the fighting around them.
Teal’c reached into the writhing mass of arms and legs and plucked O’Neill out by the back of his jacket as if the grown man were a small puppy. The man’s grey haired head lolled to one side and he could barely keep his eyes focused on Teal’c’s face, close as it was.
“Go’ud. Snake, he’s, he’s a snake,” O’Neill mumbled before passing out.
Alarmed, Teal’c whirled to face Daniel Jackson who was still sagging against the trunk of a scorched tree. “Daniel Jackson, do not move.” Could this really be? It was true that Teal’c had felt a little uneasy around the young man today but it was not the same feeling that he usually got when around the goa’ould. But there was something amiss with his friend. And it was not like O’Neill to accuse his closest friend of such a fate, or to fight with him. Without taking his eyes off of Daniel, he lowered O’Neill’s limp body to the ground as gently as if he were made of glass.
“Teal’c, what’s wrong?” Carter called over her shoulder as she kept watch for any foolish jaffa who wandered too close.
“O’Neill believes Daniel Jackson to be a goa’ould.”


dum, dum, dum

[Gemsong]

MORE!!!