Rating: PG13, humour, implied Jack/Daniel

Spoilers/Warnings: Fragile Balance

Summary: You turn around and there you are.

Notes | Disclaimer

Jack stifled a yawn as the briefing room lights dimmed. He knew he shouldn't have stayed up to watch that John Wayne marathon the night before, but he always was a sucker for "True Grit." Too late to worry about that now, though.

Carter stood and moved to the head of the table, remote control in her hand. At the touch of a button, an image came to life on the wall beside her, shading her features softly in an array of muted colors.

"This is the preliminary MALP telemetry we received from P3R-277," she said as she gestured toward the image. Jack has been expecting the usual scenery: rocky terrain, a desert, or more likely trees, trees and more trees. This, however, was anything but and Jack found himself sitting up a little straighter in his seat.

The scene displayed was a cityscape, filled with soaring towers connected by delicate aerial bridges, all aglow with brilliant, flashing lights. Below, at what was apparently street level, Jack could see the bustle of people and what looked like hover cars whizzing by.

"It looks kind of like Tokyo," Daniel observed as he leaned closer to get a better look at the image being projected. He squinted behind his glasses. "Those look like billboards," he said, pointing at some of the colorful script that moved across one of the buildings' façades.

"Can you read what it says, Dr. Jackson?" Hammond asked.

Daniel shook his head. "Not from this. The writing is a too small and blurry to make out. Besides, even if I could, I don't really have a context. If those *are* billboards, then the writing could be some kind of alien product endorsement."

"Drink Coke?" Jack asked.

"Possibly."

"Got milk?"

"Maybe."

"Put a tiger in your tank?"

"Jack..." Daniel gave an exasperated sigh and shot a warning glance in Jack's direction.

Hammond intervened before Jack took them further off topic. "We get the idea, Colonel. So, thoughts people?"

Not surprisingly, Daniel was the first to chime in. "Well, clearly this is a fairly advanced civilization, sir, and the people, from what I can make out in this transmission appear to be human, or at least humanoid. They could be from Earth originally."

"And those vehicles appear to be some kind of hover craft which would suggest that they are technologically advanced as well," Sam said.

"I concur," Teal'c echoed gravely. "I believe that it would be most beneficial to meet such a people."

"Colonel?"

Jack looked at the image flickering on the wall once more. "I always wanted to visit the set of 'Bladerunner'."

Jack looked around the room to see expressions that ranged from puzzlement to amusement to dawning impatience. Jack sat up a little bit straighter. "I think Daniel, Carter and Teal'c have made a good case, sir. I think we should go."

Hammond nodded. "Agreed. SG-1 you have a go. Departure at fourteen hundred hours. Dismissed."

The four members of SG-1 stood as one, gathered their belongings and left the briefing room. Daniel feel into step with Jack.

"'Bladerunner,' Jack? I thought you didn't like sci-fi."

Jack shrugged again. "It had Harrison Ford," he said, as if that was sufficient explanation in and of itself.

"It also had a chick with a snake and a see-through raincoat."

"What can I say?" Jack replied with a smile. "I'm multi-faceted."

"Uh huh. And all the facets are set on shallow, apparently."

Jack adopted an aggrieved expression. "You wound me Daniel, you really do."

Daniel snorted. "I'm sure you'll get over it soon enough."

"Ass," Jack muttered good-naturedly.

Daniel twisted his head around and glanced down. "Why, Jack, I didn't know you'd even noticed."

Jack swatted Daniel on the back of his head but there was no real force behind it. "C'mon, Daniel. We've got a mission to prep for."

[] [] []

They arrived on the other side of the gate to be greeted by a cacophony of sound and color. After having visited so many worlds that were either uninhabited or which accommodated modest and relatively primitive settlements, it was something of a shock to find themselves dropped in the middle of what felt like Times Square on a hot Saturday night.

Jack scanned the surrounding area. The Stargate was situated in the middle of a small plaza, flanked by skyscrapers on three sides. The gate itself faced a wide boulevard lined with still more buildings that seemed to be covered in brilliant lights and bands of moving script. Jack heard a low, steady whine, which he realized belonged to those hover crafts they'd seen on MALP recording. There were people everywhere, moving about, buffeting them like a human tide. A few people gave them a quick glance, but no one stopped or displayed anything more than idle curiosity at their sudden appearance. Odd.

He turned to look at his companions who, like himself, were taking in their surroundings. Daniel was gazing up at the skyscrapers with a rapt expression.

"Daniel?"

Daniel flashed him a smile. "It's like the Ginza."

Jack frowned and Daniel took the clue immediately. "The Ginza. It's the central shopping district in Tokyo. The Ginza itself is the main drag and it's flanked on both sides by shops and department stores. It's supposedly has some of the most expensive real estate in the world. Well, on Earth, I mean."

Jack nodded and turned to his 2IC. "Carter?"

Her expression was only slightly less rapturous than Daniel's. "Sir, those vehicles are incredible. They really do appear to be hovercrafts, probably using some kind of anti-grav technology. And their maneuverability is amazing," she said waving her hand in the direction of the flow of traffic along the boulevard. "I'd love to get a closer look at them."

"First things first, Major." She nodded. "Teal'c?"

"The inhabitants seem unperturbed by our arrival."

Jack nodded slowly. "Yeah, I noticed that myself."

"Their lack of fear or even interest in our arrival would suggest that they are long accustomed to visitors arriving through the Stargate."

"Yeah," Jack echoed as his gaze returned to the square and the crowds of people too intent on their own trajectories to even notice their sudden arrival.

"Well, I doubt that they've had any dealings with the Goa'uld," Daniel remarked as his gaze shifted from the crowd to Jack then back again. "The Goa'uld would have wiped them out rather than allow them to attain this level of technological advancement. Which means either the Goa'uld abandoned them a long time ago..."

"Or they found some way to defeat the Goa'uld," Sam said.

Daniel nodded. "Or..."

Before Daniel had a chance to voice the third possibility, there was a sudden high-pitched whine, a jarring, screeching counterpoint to the thrum of the hovercrafts and the burble of speech surrounding them. A beam of blue light appeared as if from nowhere and raked across them, pausing to rest on each of them for the space of two heartbeats before moving on. And then it was gone.

They looked at each other as realization dawned and Daniel gave voice to the third option. "Or this is an Asgard protected planet."

They looked ahead and sure enough, there it was, Thor's Hammer, or at least a variant of it. It was covered in Norse runes like the one in Cimmeria, but instead of rough hewn stone, this one seemed formed of some kind of metal with a dull bluish sheen that made it look more like a modern sculpture than an ancient artifact.

Jack ran a hand down the side. The surface was smooth, but faintly warm to the touch. "Sweet."

"I wonder why it just passed over Teal'c?" Daniel asked as he joined Jack at the Hammer and let his fingertips trace the inscribed runes.

"Well," Sam began slowly, a frown creasing her forehead. "Gairwyn said that the Asgard had told her that they were going to do something to the gate on Cimmeria that would allow it to recognize Teal'c. Maybe whatever they did was systemic?"

"That would seem to be a logical conclusion, Major Carter," Teal'c said with a nod.

"Well, if Thor and his buddies have been here we're probably pretty safe. As least as safe as we ever get on one of our little field trips," Jack quickly amended. He directed his gaze to his teammates. "So, what do you say kids? Feel up to a little walkabout?"

The answer, of course, was a foregone conclusion so Jack didn't wait for a refusal that wouldn't be in the offing. "Carter, take point. Teal'c, you're on our six."

They fell into formation with the ease of long practice. Jack knew he didn't have to remind them to keep their eyes open; experience and training had made that second nature by now and not for the first time Jack felt a swell of pride at his team and their comportment. They were damned good, each and every one of them.

They made their way down the wide boulevard though their progress was slow, impeded as it was by the throngs of people bustling about. Even though this world appeared to be under the protection of the Asgard, Jack remained on edge. It was too noisy, too crowded for his tastes. He had no clear line of sight, no unimpeded line of retreat and, if he were being truthful, no clear plan as how to proceed. This environment was alien even to SG-1, the premier first contact team of the SGC. Usually, they arrived, made their way to the nearest village and things just ran their course. Here, however, they were in the midst of a modern city and no one seemed the least bit interested in who they were or what they were doing. Somehow, Jack couldn't see himself walking up to a total stranger and saying "Take me to your leader." It was too damned clichéd and Jack refused to be that corny. For the time being the only logical course of action was to observe and learn.

Jack glanced over at Daniel whose head seemed to be on a swivel as he tried to soak in every possible detail. Jack let him do his thing for a few more minutes before interrupting him.

"Daniel? Thoughts?" Jack asked, keeping his voice low.

Daniel stopped his perusal instantly and turned to look directly at Jack. There was no hesitation as he launched into the requested analysis.

"Well, these people appear to be human so I think for the time being it's reasonable to assume that they were transplanted from Earth, especially in view of the Asgard connection. Their level of technology appears to be similar to ours, but somewhat more advanced. Their social and technological evolution may have proceeded along very similar lines to what we underwent on Earth, but possibly without some of the setbacks we experienced, like the Dark Ages or the Black Death. Possibly they even got a leg up from the Asgard."

Jack nodded. "Possibly."

"I was thinking..."

Jack's lips twitched faintly at that remark. "Daniel, when *aren't* you thinking?"

That comment earned Jack a small smile. "I remember your report about the things that were said when you were negotiating the Protected Planets' status for Earth. The Goa'uld expressly demanded that they should be able to limit or technological advancement."

"Yeah." Jack felt a brief flare of anger at the memory. "They don't want us humans getting all uppity and start coming up with ways of kicking their snaky little behinds all over the place."

Daniel nodded. "Right. Now, we were able to get around that clause because we helped save Cronus' life and we exposed Nirrti's secret little research project."

"Yeah," Jack drawled and indicated Daniel should continue with a twist of his hand.

"Well, I assume that that is a pretty standard clause in the treaty. After all, like you said, the Goa'uld don't want humans having technology. As long as they maintain a clear advantage over the peoples they subjugate, they're safe. But humans with advanced technology are a genuine threat."

"I'd say we've proved that pretty well ourselves."

"Yes, we have," Daniel agreed. "Of course, the Ancient Egyptians didn't need advanced technology to kick Ra's ass off Earth three thousand years ago. I bet that was something to see."

"I'm sure it was, but let's stay on topic here, shall we, Daniel?"

"Right. OK, so, if limiting human advancement is a standard part of the whole Protected Planets' status thing, how did this place get so advanced?"

Jack followed the sweep of Daniel's arm to look at the scene around him: soaring towers, speeding hovercrafts, people wearing streamlined headsets that reminded Jack of those handless cell phone things. Daniel was right; the Goa'uld hadn't halted advancement here.

"Dunno, Daniel. I guess we'll just have to find out."

Jack was jostled suddenly and collided with Daniel, who helped to steady him before he stumbled as well. The crowds were thicker here and the four members of SG-1 moved closer together with the press of bodies.

"Carter, Teal'c, stay sharp," Jack advised softly.

"Yes sir," Carter replied.

They continued on at a slower pace. It was mildly unnerving being caught in this press of bodies and competing noises. A young man-a teen perhaps-zipped by on what looked like a floating skateboard. Music blared from a small device attached to his belt. Jack grimaced at the sudden blast of music but then the boy was speeding away out of sight-and thankfully-hearing.

"Can you read any of this, Daniel?" Jack asked flapping his hand in the direction of the brightly colored script crawling across the buildings' facades. He had leaned in close so that his voice could be heard over the din. When Daniel turned his head, Jack could feel his breath, warm and moist against his cheek.

"I was right; those are the alien equivalent of billboards. That one seems to be advertising some kind of deodorant..." Daniel frowned, "...or possibly a fruit drink, it's kind of unclear. But they're definitely ads."

Jack sighed. "So, not mush use."

"'Fraid not. Well, unless you're looking for something that will make your armpits smell fresh and fruity. But at least we know they're ads. That's something, right?"

Jack grunted. Just what he needed in life: more ads for useless crap.

"Sir!"

Carter's voice broke through Jack's thoughts. "What is it Major?"

"Have a look, sir."

Jack moved to stand next to Carter. Even without looking, he knew that Daniel and Teal'c had moved into flanking positions. They found themselves standing in from of an ornate building. There was a colonnade along the front and it was capped with a series of what appeared to be elaborate carved gables. There was a wide path that led up to the building's entrance and it was covered by a rich red fabric that shimmered and reflected the light. Flanking the path on both sides were mobs of people. They jostled and hummed with a palpable air of expectation. The first thought that came to Jack's mind was Grauman's Chinese Theatre on Oscar night, before they went and moved the whole shebang to that new place.

Jack looked more carefully at the crowds and frowned. Not people: women, or more precisely girls. Lots and lots of girls all of them of the pre-teen variety. Jack felt inexplicably nervous all of a sudden.

"What the hell..?" he mumbled to himself. He looked up at the building again. There were more Asgard runes running across the screen situated on the roof. "Daniel. What's that say?"

Daniel frowned. "Huh. It says 'Thirty-Eight Glyphs'."

"Could that have some relationship to the Stargate?" Teal'c asked.

"Maybe," Daniel said.

"A Stargate has thirty-nine glyphs, though. So why thirty-eight?"

"Maybe they just subtracted the point of origin."

"Why?"

"I have no idea," Daniel answered, his frown still firmly in place.

They stood there at the edge of what Jack had privately dubbed the red carpet and gazed at the building. Jack was about to suggest that they move along when the crowd suddenly erupted as one. A high pitched squealing sound rent the air, momentarily eclipsing the sounds of traffic and random noise, They were jostled suddenly and had to grasp at one another to keep from overbalancing.

When Jack looked up he could see someone standing on the steps leading up to the building's entrance. He squinted, but the figure was too far away to make out the features. His build was relatively short and slim, suggesting that he was a young man, not yet fully grown. He started down the steps, two burly men walking just behind and to the side of him.

As the young man moved down the path, the screams and squeals became increasingly frenzied. Young women threw themselves against the barriers that lined the sides of the walkway and reached out with desperate, greedy hands towards the young man as he traversed the gauntlet. His manner was insouciant and his stride had more than a bit of swagger to it as  he smiled and occasionally waved at the throngs of girls, eliciting still more high pitched squeals. It almost reminded Jack of the old footage of the Beatles coming to America.

Jack watched as the young man moved closer. He was getting a strange sense of deja-vu, though he couldn't put his finger on the reason why. He could make out some additional details. The young man, and indeed that assessment seemed to be correct, was dressed in loose, comfortable looking clothes: a pair of pants; a  shirt, untucked; a hooded jacket. He was also wearing a pair of sunglasses, in spite of the fact that it was past sunset. Jack frowned. That sense of déjà-vu was starting to morph into something far more disconcerting. Alarm bells began to screech in the back of his brain.

And suddenly vague discomfort was replaced by a sense of dread and sickening horror as the young man stopped directly in front of Jack, slid his sunglasses down his nose and looked at Jack with laughing brown eyes. Very familiar laughing brown eyes.

Jack knew why those eyes were familiar, of course; he'd seen them in the mirror that very morning.

Sonuvabitch!

"Hiya, Jack! How ya doin'?" There was undisguised amusement in that voice and the smile that accompanied it was annoyingly-and all too characteristically-smug.

Jack stared at his miniature doppelganger, momentarily speechless.

Momentarily.

"You!" Jack spluttered.

"Good comeback there, Jack. You ever think of ditching the Air Force and making a run for public office? It'd be a shame to waste such a sharp wit."

Jack's mouth opened then shut with an audible click. He could feel his team members pressing close. He never took his eyes off his doppelganger but he could almost feel their shock careening along his body.

The teenaged Jack O'Neill wannabe shifted his attention to Jack's teammates. "Hey Teal'c, Carter!" he greeted. "Daniel."

That last was uttered in a low, sultry voice that was almost a purr. He shot a sly glance in Jack's direction. His smile widened at Jack's corresponding glower.

Jack's teammates had clearly been rendered as speechless as Jack himself. It was Carter who finally broke the silence.

"Holy Hannah!"

"Wow..." Daniel started. "That's...wow!"

"O'Neill. It would appear that we are in the presence of a clone of yourself."

"Thanks for the completely unnecessary update, Teal'c," Jack said casting a withering glance in the other man's direction. Teal'c ignored him.

Typical.

Jack turned his attention back to Mini-Me. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Jack version 2.0 returned Jack's glare with one of his own, his body language automatically shifting to mirror that of his counterpart. "I could ask you the same thing."

"We're peaceful explorers from Earth, remember? We do this for a living."

"Please," the shrimp snorted. "Daniel is a peaceful explorer. Carter and Teal'c are usually peaceful explorers. You? You think about taking your P-90 with anytime you have to step foot in the mall to do some shopping."

"Hey! That's a lie!" Jack said.

The teenaged Jack shrugged. "If you say so, Jack. Who am I to come between a man and his delusions? Just remember: I'm you. I know everything that rattles around in that beady little brain of yours."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "You still haven't answered my question. What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing. Here?"

They glared at one another and the air fairly crackled with hostility. Clearly recognizing a recipe for disaster, Daniel took action. He inserted himself between the two Jacks before they came to blows and placed a palm against each Jack's chest. "Jack," he said, looking at his teammate, "this isn't getting us anywhere. And Jack," he said swiveling his head to look at the younger version of his teammate, "we're just surprised, is all. We never expected to see you here on another planet."

Both Jacks continued to scowl at one another, but they relaxed visibly and each took a step backwards, like a pair of prizefighters returning to their respective corners at the sound of the bell.  Daniel cautiously steeped aside, but remained nearby in case another timely intervention was required.

"So?" Jack asked.

Junior Jack sighed and opened his mouth to answer when suddenly something pink and lacy flew through the air to land squarely on his head. He removed the offending item and held it up for inspection. A pair of panties. He sighed again.

"This is why you always have to keep moving," he muttered with a shake of his head.

He looked over at the four startled members of SG-1. "Look, this isn't exactly the best place to hold a chat," he explained with a sweep of his arm.

For a moment, Jack had completely forgotten the throngs of screaming girls who looked like they were ready to storm the ramparts. They were throwing themselves against the barricades with increased vigor, desperate to get at Midget Jack. Jack could understand the feeling, though not the motivation behind it.

"Good idea. So...where to then?"

"Follow me," the shrimp said, with a wave of one hand. He slipped the panties into a pocket with the other. Jack didn't want to think about it.

Mini-Me led them to what could only be described as a stretch limo. Smooth and sleek and black as pitch, the vehicle hovered about a foot off the ground. It's windows were opaque and the detailing in the handles and the bumper seemed to have been forged of the same bluish metal they'd seen on the Hammer.

"Sweet," Jack said, with grudging admiration. One of the bruisers that had been following the Midget smoothly opened the door and ushered them inside.

Jack's estimation rose several more notches once he was settled. The interior was sumptuous, the seats and walls lined with a rich maroon fabric that looked-and felt, Jack confirmed-like velvet. There was not one, but three screens affixed to the ceiling and a nice little bar off to the side. Sweet indeed. Jack wondered if he got cable.

Jack slid along the banquette until he was sitting directly across of his teenaged, pain-in-the-ass, self. Carter and Teal'c seated themselves at his side. He was mildly annoyed that Daniel opted to sit next to *him* not...him. Jack reminded himself that there really wasn't enough room for four on the banquette he, Carter and Teal'c were currently occupying. It didn't help.

The door was closed and then with a barely perceptible lurch, they were moving. As Carter had anticipated, these hover craft were one smooth ride. The car moved along at a considerable clip with only the faintest hum of the engine audible from where they sat. Jack would have been even more impressed if he weren't so monumentally pissed off. He pinned Jack Lite with a look.

"All right. Spill. How did you get here? Last I saw, you were off to annoy the crap out of a bunch of high school teachers."

"Well, you know that's a funny story," Li'l Jack began. "No, I take that back. It's a really crappy story."

"What happened?" Daniel asked, his voice soothing. Jack shot him a glare. Daniel ignored him, as did the Midget.

"I never actually made it into the school."

"Whaddya mean? I dropped you off there myself," Jack replied.

The Shrimp gave him a cool look. "Yeah, and did you actually see me go in?"

Jack blinked, tried to remember. He *thought* he had. He thought he had stayed and watched from the curb until His Unholy Terror had walked into that school to start his new life.

Mini-Me was watching him closely. "You don't remember, do you Jack? OK, here's another question for you: it's been six months since you dropped my off at that school. How many times have you checked up on me since then?" He leaned forward to look directly into Jack's eyes. " I know you. You might play Colonel Insensitive, but you would have been curious as to how I-you-were getting along. More than that, I *am* a potential security risk. You would have kept tabs on me just to make sure I didn't get snatched by the NID or the Russians or who knows who else.

"So, Jack what have I been up to for the last six months?"

Jack frowned. He was annoyed by the question, but more than that, he was annoyed by the fact that he had no idea as to the answer. Fuck.

Jack Jr. nodded then shifted his attention to Jack's teammates. "And what about the rest of you? C'mon, Daniel, there is no way you would have just walked away. You remember what it's like to be on your own like that. You know you would have checked up on me from time to time just to make sure I wasn't lonely."

Daniel's frown echoed Jack's own.

"And what about you Carter? I know you were fascinated by the idea of a clone with all the knowledge of his...original," the teenaged Jack grimaced at the term, but moved on quickly. "I know you would have wanted to get a better idea of how that worked and whether or not I retained all that information. Besides," he added with a smirk. "You thought I was cute."

Carter flushed and shot a quick apologetic glance in Jack's direction.

Mini-Me looked at each member of SG-1 in turn. "The fact is, none of you has even thought about me once in the six months, have you? It's like I had never even existed until you suddenly saw me again, right?"

The awkward glances of the four members of SG-1 spoke volumes. The silence stretched. Daniel finally spoke up.

"You're right. But how did you know that? What exactly happened?"

Li'l Jack leaned back in his seat. "Well, like I said. I never actually made it back to high school. I was just about to walk inside when I was nabbed by a coupla guys who just appeared out of nowhere. They stuffed me in a van and then I was gone."

"The NID?" Daniel asked in a horrified voice.

"Worse," teen Jack explained. "The Executive Producers."

"Who the hell are the Executive Producers?" Jack asked.

"You remember when you were working on that sting operation to shut down Maybourne and his merry band of thieves and Makepeace told you that you had no idea how high up it really went?"

Jack nodded.

"Well, the Executive Producers are the ones pulling all the strings."

"Wait a minute, I thought Kinsey..."

Mini-Me snorted. "That fuckwit? He can barely find his own ass with both hands. When he's not thumping his Bible, he's plotting to take over the SGC so badly a pre-schooler could see right through him. If that guy were any more incompetent, he'd be president."

"So...not Kinsey?"

"Nope. Kinsey's just a puppet. The Executive Producers are the ones calling the shots. They control everything, from what missions you guys go on, what allies you make, right on down to Carter's crappy hair style."

Carter's hand reached up automatically to touch her hair, a stricken look on her face.

"Sorry, Carter, but its true. Your hair looks awful."

Jack slashed his hands through the air. "OK, this is making *no* sense. Are you telling me there is some ultra top-secret group that is controlling everything we do? I'm not buying."

"How else do you explain some of the lame ass things you've done over the years, Jack? Remember Euronda? Alar was practically throwing everything you guys ever wanted at your feet, but you never once questioned why. Why not? You're special ops, not to mention you've got a hell of a bullshit detector. Alar should have been setting off all sorts of alarm bells right from the start, but nothing. Nada, ziltch. Zip. You didn't do squat until you'd been beaten over the head with the evidence.

"Or what about letting the Tok'ra put a snake in your head? There is no way in Hell you would ever have agreed to that and everybody knew it. It's not like you've been keepin' your opinion of the Tok'ra to yourself or anything. But you went along with it, no problem.

Mini-Me leaned in again, his eyes intense. "Remember, Jack; I know you because I *am* you. We may like to play dumb, but we are way smarter than we let on."

Jack shook his head in adamant refusal. "No, no way was I being manipulated like that."

"Sure you weren't Jack. So, tell me...why did you kiss Carter when you were stuck in that time loop?"

"Sir!" Carter's horrified voice cut through the air like a knife.

Jack shot her an apologetic look. "Sorry, Carter. It was just...well...you know..."

"No, I don't know, *sir*. I'd appreciate an explanation."

"Yes, Jack," Daniel said in a low, dangerous voice. "I'd like to hear the answer to that as well."

Jack cringed as he took in the sight of two pairs of stormy blue eyes. Caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place, Jack raised his hands in surrender. "I don't know why, all right?"

Mini-Me shook his head. "Don't be too hard on Jackass. It wasn't his fault. The Executive Producers made him do it."

"Jackass?"

"Would you like for me to pull up some more evidence for you Jack?"

"Um...no, that's all right," Jack said as he cast nervous glances in the direction of one thoroughly pissed astrophysicist and one equally pissed archeologist.

"I find it hard to believe that these Executive Producers can control us just like that," Daniel said. "We're sentient beings after all. We have free will."

"Well, not nearly as free as you think. It's not just your actions. They can control your memories as well."

"What?!" Daniel asked, clearly appalled. "Are you saying that they've tampered with our memories?"

"'Fraid so. And they've done it a lot."

"That's unbelievable," Daniel said.

"You want proof? OK, Daniel. When was the last time you saw Nyan?"

"Who?" Daniel asked, his frown deepening.

"Short guy? Funny sideburns?"

Daniel shook his head.

"You know, the archeologist we met on Bedrosia? He saved out bacon so we brought him back to Earth with us. You gave him a job as your research assistant?"

Daniel's brows were knit tightly together, a deep frown line etched between them and then suddenly the expression of deep concentration was replaced by one of shock.

"Nyan! My God! Yes, of course, I know Nyan!" Daniel turned to look at Jack, genuinely stricken. "I remember everything now. We brought him back. He was in the infirmary along with Teal'c because they'd both been hurt on the planet. I offered Nyan the job as my research assistant and then Janet shooed us all out of the infirmary so he and Teal'c could rest. How could I have forgotten that?"

Mini-Me's expression was sympathetic. "Not your fault Daniel. It's the Executive Producers. They *made* you forget.

"My God," Daniel whispered. He looked like a stunned mullet. Jack patted him on the shoulder then turned back to his teenaged counterpart.

"OK, so we forgot about Nyan. He was pretty quiet anyway. That doesn't mean..."

"When was the last time you saw Ferretti, Jack?"

"Huh?"

"You know, Lou Ferretti. *Major* Ferretti? One of the four survivors from the original Abydos mission? Took over SG-2 after Kawalsky was...you know?"

Daniel made a choked sound and Jack felt himself go cold.

"Sonuvabitch!"

"My God," Sam whispered, clearly as stunned as Jack himself felt, though he wasn't sure such a thing was possible.

"How did this come to pass, Young O'Neill?" Teal'c asked.

Jack nodded, admiring as always Teal'c's ability to cut through the crap and go directly to the heart of the matter. "Yeah, that's what I'd like to know."

"Maybe you should start at the beginning, with your abduction," Daniel said as he twisted his body towards Jack's underage doppelganger.

"OK, well like I said, I got nabbed by a coupla goons. They're damned lucky they took me by surprise, otherwise I so would've kicked their asses."

"Yadda," Jack said.

The Midget glared at Jack, but then returned to his story. "They tossed me into a van and we drove for hours. I'm still not sure where they took me. Anyway, next thing I know I'm in this little interrogation room. Man, talk about clichés. They had it right down to the bare light bulb. *No* imagination.

"Getting off topic here."

"Do you mind? I'm talking."

"And saying precisely squat."

"Hey, do you want to know what happened or not?"

"Sirs!"

The two Jacks shot a look at Carter who refused to back down. They subsided.

"All right, so where was I before I was so *rudely* interrupted? Right. The interrogation room. I sat there for a while and finally this clown called Mallozzi walks in. He says he's one of the Executive Producers. He tells me that my storyline is finished and that it was just too much of a risk to have me wandering around where people might see me. Apparently he was all worried that people-and no,  Jack, I have no idea who these people are supposed to be-would get all concerned about me and then start clamoring for me to reappear. He said something about a 'write-in' campaign. Whatever in the hell that is it sure wigged him out but good. He said they couldn't run the risk of me mucking up their plotlines and their spin-off..."

"Spin-off?" Jack asked.

Mini-Me shrugged. "Beats the hell out of me. I couldn't figure out half of what he was saying. Anyway, he said they had to make sure I was out of the way. When I asked him how he planned on doing that, he said I would be taken to a secured facility that housed the rest of the 'one-offs'."

"One-offs?" That was Daniel this time.

"Apparently that's what The Executive Producers call the people we only interact with once. And man, there are a hell of a lot of them. And not just people, either, whole races like the Reetou and those weird as fuck Foothold aliens. Even a couple of snakeheads like Bastet. Of course, the snakes know better than to show their ugly faces. They keep to themselves somewhere," he said with a vague wave of his hand.

"Jack," Daniel began. He hesitated, licked his lips and then dove in once more. "You said there were people there. Who exactly?"

"Well, Nyan, like I said. Catherine Langford is there..."

"Catherine!" Carter and Daniel blurted simultaneously. They looked at each other then turned back to the teenaged Jack.

"Yep, and hey Daniel! Steven Rayner is there. Man, is he a trip! He cheats at poker though, sneaky bastard. Oh, and Sara is there..."

Daniel's eyes went wide.

"Um, my...our...Sara," he said, gesturing at Jack. "Laira's there too. They get along really well in fact."

"Shit," Jack muttered. Clone Boy just smiled.

"Who else?" Daniel asked leaning forward.

"Hmm...let's see. Old 'Grandpa' Nick is there. That girl Allie that Teal'c met when he was bitten by that big honkin' bug. Lieutenant Satterfield, you know, the one that had a crush on you, Daniel. Reetou Charlie. It's a long list."

"What about Ferretti?" Jack asked.

Mini Jack sighed. "Poor Ferretti. He's been in there the longest. He was one of the first they tossed in the brig, right after Kawalsky bought it. He caught a lucky break, though. They let him out briefly right around the time we...you...gated to Apophis' mother ship to stop the attack on Earth. Unfortunately, they tossed him right back. Poor guy. Apparently he's never been the same since they brought him back. A little bit of freedom can almost be worse than none at all once you lose it." He spoke those words with the weariness of someone who knew their truth all too well.

"So, everyone is there?" Daniel asked.

"Not everyone. A lucky few get called back more than once. They get upgraded to recurring status. I've heard the digs are a lot nicer. Cassie's there, so is Doc Warner and Skaara. He was with the one offs for a long time and then he got promoted. He deserved it. Of course, not everyone who gets promoted deserves it."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Man, you should have heard the howls of outrage when that clueless bastard Martin got called back. People were pissed. And then when Lieutenant Hailey got called up, well that was kind of a mixed blessing, since everyone was so damned sick of her superior attitude. She kept saying how *she* was smarter than everyone, including Carter, and that she should be the one on SG-1. The demotion did wonders for her, though. She was a lot more bearable the second time around."

Carter scowled.

"So, what happened?"

Colonel Jail Bait snorted. "What do you think happened? There was no well in hell I was gonna sit around in a glorified prison twiddling my thumbs doing nothing for the rest of my life. They didn't even have cable there, for crying out loud. So, I did the only logical thing: I organized a jailbreak."

"You organized a jailbreak?" Jack asked, clearly suspicious.

"Damn right, I did!" Teen Jack snapped back. "Hey, if I could break out of an Iraqi prison *and* Baal's fortress single-handedly, I could sure as hell organize a little prison break."

"Um, actually Jack, you didn't *really* break out of Baal's fortress single-handedly..."

Twin pairs of brown eyes glared balefully at Daniel.

Daniel blinked, surprised. "Oh-kay. Shutting up now."

"All right, fine. You organized a jailbreak. What then?"

"I guess these Executive Producers had been dealing with civilians and junior officers for so long, it had never occurred to them that somebody might actually have the cojones to escape. Morons," he added with a shake of the head.

"It really was a walk in the park, if you'll pardon the cliché. No real security, no guards worth mentioning. Nuthin'. Before we knew it, we were outta there. Of course, the bigger problem was *staying* outta there. Fortunately, for whatever reason, these Executive Producers had locked up all our goodies right in the same building with us. Not too bright these guys. Anyway, I managed to find one of those Asgard communication thingies and gave my old buddy Thor a ring. I figured he owed me once."

"Don't you mean he owed *me* one?" Jack rejoined.

"Hey!" Mini-Jack snapped. "I'm the one who helped take down Loki, not you. You were too busy drooling all over your pillow, remember?"

Jack looked like he was about to protest again, but Mini-Me cut him off at the pass. "Should I ask Daniel to tell us what he found in your underwear drawer, Jack?" he asked with a smile that dripped mischief.

Jack paled and shook his head 'no.'

"I thought not."

"So, then what?" Carter asked.

"Thor beamed me up, I explained our situation and he agreed to take us with. We hung out on the Asgard home world for awhile. It turns out that I...we...are quite the celebrity there, Jack. Thor asked me if I'd be willing to do a coupla public appearances, you know, show 'em a little of that old Tauri razzle dazzle. I figured 'why not'? So next thing I know, I'm doing the talk show circuit. I got killer ratings, by the way," he added smugly.

"Yeah, yeah, you're a regular media darling. So?"

"Well, funny you should mention that, Jack. About a month in, I got a call from this Tollan chick who'd been living on the Asgard home world. Apparently, she was a talent scout of some kind and well, she knew talent when she saw it. Talk shows were one thing, she said, but the real money was in the music biz. She had this idea of putting together a Tauri style band and since I was the number one Tauri on the block, well, who better to lead it. And so Thirty-Eight Glyphs was born."

"Oh my God! That's what was on the marquee!" Daniel exclaimed.

"Yep."

Jack stared speechless for the second time that day. "I...I'm in a freakin' boy band?"

"First of all, *you* aren't in the band, I am. And second, why the hell should you care?"

"A boy band!"

"Yeah, so?"

"I...you...we can't even sing!"

Clone Boy smiled. "Since when has musical talent been a requisite to be a pop star?"

"He has a point there, sir," Carter admitted.

"But a boy band!" Jack said, his voice taking on an unpleasantly whiny edge.

"Hey, we're a damned successful boy band, thank you very much. We're burnin' up the charts, our new single "Baby You Can Dial My Gate," just went naquadah and we're about to start our first interplanetary concert tour. Forget the Beatles. They might have been on the Ed Sullivan show, but we get to be simulcast across a solar system."

"You said we, Young O'Neill. Who are the others to whom you refer?"

"Oh, yeah, well there's Reetou Charlie, though he goes by Chaz these days. And Loran. You remember him, don't you Teal'c? We met him at that damned snakehead pleasure dome. I'm kinda worried about him, though, you know with his history of substance abuse. Fame can really go to your head."

"You don't say," Jack muttered.

Jack Jr. glared but said nothing. He turned his attention back to the more sympathetic members of SG-1. "Actually. It's worked out pretty damned well. We've started our own company, Tauri Talent Unlimited and put everyone to work. Steven is our manager. He's damned good at it, too, though ya got to watch him to make sure he's not skimming too much from the profits. Nyan is in charge of the roadies, Catherine's in charge of the fan club. Martin is shooting a documentary of the tour. We've even got those Foothold aliens working security."

Carter gaped. "You have them as security?"

Teen Jack just shrugged. "Would you wanna mess with them, Carter? Besides they work damned cheap. Asgard labor unions are a real pain in the ass."

The purr of the engines suddenly faded out and the hover car came to a stop.

"Well, here we are," Jack Jr. announced.

"And where is here, exactly?"

Mini-Me rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Don't get you panties all in a bunch, *Colonel*. We're at my hotel."

The door to the stretch hover limo was opened and Li'l Mr. Media Darling stepped outside and was immediately flanked by the pair of burly bodyguards once more. SG-1 filed out and followed like an entourage. Jack really, really hated that image.

They were ushered inside a palatial building and then led on a circuitous route along back corridors and up a private elevator. For security reasons, he was curtly informed when Jack posed the obvious question.

"So, um...Jack, what are you doing here? I mean specifically here on this planet?" Daniel asked.

The Midget smiled warmly up at Daniel. "Promotional tour. The concert tour starts in about a month, so in the meantime, I've been doing the rounds. I'm gonna be doing a coupla more public appearances and a talk show or two. It's all part of the gig."

They turned a corner leading to yet another anonymous, but tastefully decorated corridor when a sudden high-pitched squealing sound took them all by surprise. A pair of teenaged girls leapt out of what appeared to be a laundry cart and proceeded to attach themselves to the person of a clearly exasperated Junior Jack.

"Oh fer cryin' out loud! Security!"

One of the bruisers came forward while the other one spoke urgently into what Jack assumed was a microphone in his collar. Within moments, several of those Foothold aliens appeared almost as if by magic. The girls were plucked off the Midget like a pair of ticks and carried away. They continued to scream and flail their arms in Mini-Me's direction until they were out of sight. The echoes of their squeals lingered in the air even after they were gone.

Jack version 2.0 dusted himself off and shot a deprecating grin in the direction of the startled members of SG-1. "Don't worry," he explained coolly. "It happens all the time. There was this one girl who managed to get into my hotel suite by..." he trailed off, his cheeks coloring suddenly. "Never mind."

They were ushered into another elevator, this one flanked by a pair of no nonsense looking Foothold aliens.

"Hey, Bert! Ernie!" Mini-Me greeted them jauntily. He received two non-descript grunts in response. "Nobody can pronounce their real names," he explained. "It's got somethin' to do with a vestigial second tongue or something."

An expression of genuine astonishment formed on Daniel's features, whether from the interesting physiognomic factoid the Shrimp had just tossed out or from the fact that a version of Jack had just used the word "vestigial," and had done so correctly.

After a few moments, the elevator came to a halt and opened to reveal a sumptuous suite.

"Here we are," Li'l Jack announced with no small hint of pride. "Home, sweet, home, at least for now."

They stepped into a room that screamed luxury in its every detail from the plush carpets underfoot to the elaborate crystal chandelier-type thing dangling from the ceiling. Jack turned a slow three-sixty, secretly impressed by the digs. Not that he would ever say so, of course.

"Jack!" Daniel called out. "You should see this view. It's incredible!"

He sauntered over to where Daniel was standing. One entire wall of the suite was nothing but glass. No, Jack realized as he touched the surface and felt the faintest of charges, it wasn't glass but rather some kind of force field that provided the suite with a dramatic panorama of the city. Jack looked down. He didn't know how high up they were, but it was clearly a ways. Daniel continued to stare at the view through the window, awed and delighted in equal measure.

"Isn't it amazing?" he asked in a hushed, reverent voice.

"Not bad," Jack replied coolly as he watched some small hover crafts zip past the window.

"Look at that architecture," Daniel said as moved closer and all but pressed his nose to the transparent surface.

Jack reached out to grip Daniel's arm and pull him back. "Easy there, Daniel," he cautioned "It's a long way down."

Mini-Me sidled up alongside Daniel. "It's perfectly safe, Jack. Nice, huh?" At Daniel's nod he added, "This is the Penthouse suite."

"It is most impressive," Teal'c's voice announced from behind Jack.

"I dunno, it's kinda tacky if you ask me," Jack replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "A little too Elvis the Vegas years, if you get my drift."

"Well, I like it," Carter said as she ran her fingertips along the force field, her eyes reflecting the soft, shimmering ripples that her touch created. "This is amazing, sir. Really."

"Yeah, whatever."

Daniel drifted away from the window to resume his exploration of the Penthouse suite. He wandered around the room, picking things up at random, trailing fingertips along various surfaces, as tactile as ever.

Carter walked over to one of the overstuffed sofas and dropped down into its embrace in a decidedly unladylike-and very Carter-manner. As soon as her ass hit the surface her eyes popped wide open.

"Oh!"

"What is it, Major Carter?" Teal'c asked. He was at her side in an instant. The smile she gave him was blinding.

"This is wonderful. You've got to try this Teal'c! It's like one of those magic fingers things only better!"

Helpless to resist the lure of the magic fingers, Teal'c immediately joined his teammate on the sofa. His broad smile left little doubt as to his own opinion of the merits of the furniture. "You are correct, Major Carter. This is a most pleasing experience."

"If you like it that much T, I could probably wrangle one for you to take back with you."

Teal'c nodded his head, his expression one of total bliss. "I would indeed appreciate such furnishing for my abode at the SGC. I was most disappointed when I was informed that I could not requisition a bed of the magic fingers variety for my personal use."

"Jack," an unfamiliar voice called from an adjoining room. "It's about time you got back! The Vice Minister of Programming called and she wants to reschedule tomorrow's holo shoot..."

Steven Rayner's voice trailed off as he took in the scene before him. "I didn't know you had guests, Jack."

The Midget shrugged. "They followed me home. You know me and strays."

Four frowns and one scowl greeted the flip remark. Li'l Jack held his hands up in surrender. "Joking, just joking. Steven, I'd like you to meet..."

"Hello, Daniel," Rayner greeted coolly.

"Steven," Daniel replied with an equally frosty tone.

"Oh-kay, we're getting off to a lovely start," Jack said. "I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill, the *real* Jack O'Neill, that is. That's Carter, that's Teal'c and I see that you already know Daniel."

Rayner scowled. "I know who you are, *Colonel*. We know all about your exploits, you and your team. The Executive Producers were quite forthcoming."

"They didn't mention that little incident in Bangkok, did they? 'Cos if they did, I should tell ya that that was all a huge mistake. It wasn't me, honest it was another O'Neill, one that spells his name with one 'l', I swear it!"

"Yadda," Jack Junior chimed in.

Jack glared. Li'l Jack smiled beatifically right back.

"What are they doing here, Jack?" Rayner asked.

"I bumped into them after we finished taping the interview for 'Asgard Buzz.' Rather than stand around in public trying to answer some awkward questions, I figured it made more sense to bring them back here. Unless you really would have preferred we hash it out right then and there...?"

Rayner looked scandalized. "Of course not! We have to think of your reputation. The last thing we need before the tour kicks off is bad press."

"Wait, are you saying we'd be bad for *his* image?"

Rayner's shrug was far more eloquent than words.

"Jack," Daniel interjected. "Let it go."

"Don't worry, Steven. They won't be staying long," Teen Jack announced.

"Excuse me? Who died and made you colonel?"

The Midget glared at Jack. "You might be the man back on Earth, but you're on my turf here, buddy boy, and what I say goes."

He turned to look back at the disgruntled Rayner. "Steven, why don't you rustle up some nice parting gifts for our friends."

Rayner studied him for a moment then gave a clipped nod and left by the same door through which he had entered.

"We have a mission here and we're not going anywhere until we complete it."

"Which part of 'I'm calling the shots here' are you not getting, Jack?" Jack version 2.0 sighed and his expression softened as his gaze encompassed the rest of SG-1. "Look, right now is a really bad time for you to be here. It could raise some awkward questions that no one wants to answer, particularly the Asgard leadership who are kind of embarrassed by Loki's antics. It's all about politics."

Jack snorted. "When isn't it?"

Li'l Jack nodded in agreement. "Precisely. The Asgard have a very open relationship with the people here on Tetrania. They gave up the fake Norse God shtick hundreds of years ago. The human here know who the Asgard are and what they look like and they're cool with it. But they don't know anything about cloning and the Asgard prefer to keep it that way."

"Why?" Daniel asked.

Junior Jack shrugged. "For the same reason that we don't talk about the finer points of doing the nasty in mixed company: they're prudes."

"Oh."

"The Asgard don't really want to draw attention to the whole cloning thing so you being here at the same time as me, well, that's kinda awkward."

"We can't just turn around and go home. You know that," Jack said.

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. You're getting pressure from the Pentagon to find some shiny new toys to kick the Goa'ulds right in their snaky asses and this place probably looks like a military wet dream come true. Lots of nice, superior technology. Am I right?"

"That's pretty much the size of it, yeah."

"Look, I know people here on Tetrania. I can set up a meeting for you with the Minister of Technology. His daughter's a *huge* fan," he added with a cheeky grin. "But right now's the worst possible time. And truthfully, you need my help. You have no *idea* of the bureaucracy on this planet. It makes dealing with the Pentagon look like a walk in the park."

"He may be right, sir," Carter began, her voice tentative. "This is a big planet and so far apart from...him...no one even paid the slightest attention to us. This isn't our typical mission."

"She's right, Jack."

"I concur as well, O'Neill."

Jack frowned. He hated to admit they were right. Correction: he hated to admit the pint-sized Jack O'Neill wannabe was right. But dammit, Jack had a bad feeling he was. He knew this mission would be trouble form day one. Jack sighed then looked at his jail bait counterpart.

"All right, if we agreed to do things your way...and I mean *if* here, I ain't makin' any promises just yet, how would this work?"

"The Minister of Technology is having a party in three days and yours truly just happens to be the guest of honor. I'll let him know that I have some friends that want to meet and negotiate a treaty with them and that I'd take it as a personal favor if they'd extend you an invite to come and talk turkey. You can take it from there."

"That sounds reasonable," Carter said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, maybe *too* reasonable."

The Shrimp turned on Jack. "Oh fer cryin' out loud!" he said with no small amount of frustration. He ran his hands through his hair, making it stand up on his skull at odd angles. "Just because I don't live on Earth it doesn't mean I want the Snakes to come in and blow it to bits. I've got your memories, Jack, remember? I care just as much about Earth as you do and I don't want to see anything bad happen to it."

Jack had the good grace to look sheepish in the face of the impassioned defense. "Yeah, OK."

"You should come back to Earth with us," Daniel said

"Why the hell should I do that?" Mini-Me replied, clearly shocked by the proposal. "Look around you. I've got a damned sweet deal here. I'm rich, famous and my biggest problem when I wake up in the morning is whether I take the blue flitter or the red for a spin around the city."

"But Earth is your home!"

"No, Earth is *his* home," he said with a jerk of his thumb towards Jack. There was an edge of bitterness in his voice that hadn't been there before. "On Earth, I'm nothing but a cheap imitation, and a cheap imitation with bad acne at that. I'm too young to drive, too young to drink and I've got all the emotional baggage of a seriously fucked up forty-something asshole."

"Hey! I resent that!"

"You resent it? At least it's *your* crap you're carrying around in your head. Me, I just inherited it all."

"I'm sorry, dammit, but that's not my fault, all right?" Jack shot back hotly.  "I'm not the one who cloned you, I'm not the one who created that genetic marker that arrested your growth, and I'm sure as hell not the one that kidnapped you and stuffed you into a closet with a bunch of other poor schmoes, so stop blaming me already!"

Two identical sets of brown eyes locked for the space of a heartbeat, then a second and then the younger Jack pulled back.

"You're right," he admitted. "It's not your fault, but that doesn't mean I'm not...a little...OK, a *lot* bitter."

"OK, I get that." Jack studied his teenaged counterpart. "Are you really OK, with all of this? Being here, rather than on Earth, I mean. 'Cos if you're not, we'll take you back with us. All of you," Jack added. "The Executive Producers can go screw themselves. Nobody fucks with Jack O'Neill, not even one who is too young to shave."

The Midget gave a soft laugh at that then turned serious again. "Thanks for the offer, but we're doing OK here, really. It's not a bad life. I still get to travel around the galaxy and at least nobody is trying to kill me on a regular basis."

"Yeah, I suppose that would be a plus."

The sound of a voice being cleared broke through the suddenly fraught silence. They turned to see Steven Rayner hovering in the far doorway.

"Jack, here are those promotional items you wanted."

"Thanks, Steven. Just leave them on the table."

"Sure," Rayner said. He deposited the box on the table, then turned smoothly on his heel and left, the door sliding closed smoothly behind him.

"You've certainly got him well trained," Daniel observed after Rayner had disappeared from view.

"Well, I do have considerable experience in the handling of willful archeologists," Jack Junior explained as he walked over to the table. "Compared to you, Steven is a pussycat."

Daniel frowned. "Did he just insult me?"

"Would you rather be considered easy?" Jack asked with an amused quirk of his eye brow.

"I guess not."

"Hey, at least he didn't call you a forty-something asshole," Jack countered.

"True."

They walked over to the table where Li'l Jack was standing.

"I've got some nice parting gifts for you guys. T, my man, this is for you," he said as he handed a baseball cap to Teal'c. It was made of a black, shiny material and the runes denoting "Thirty-Eight Glyphs" were embroidered across the front in thread that shifted and changed color.

Teal'c accepted the cap with a nod and put it on his head. It fit perfectly.

"Thank you Young O'Neill."

"No problem, T. Carter, this is for you," he said as he handed her a jacket made of the same shiny black fabric. She removed her vest and jacket and slid the new one on to test for size. It too fit perfectly.

"Thank you," she said as she admired the styling. "This is much cooler than Cassie's N'Sync jacket!"

"Daniel, this is for you," the Midget said. He took the proffered object and turned it over in his hands. It was a small, egg shaped item that fit neatly in the palm of his hands. He looked at, his brows knit in a frown.

"What is it?"

"Push the two glyphs on the right hand side."

Daniel did as instructed and nearly jumped in surprise as a beam of light and color shot out of the top. It coalesced and in the center he could see the now familiar runes for "Thirty-Eight Glyphs." They hung suspended in mid air for a few moments more and then were suddenly replaced by three miniatures figures, one of whom was unmistakably the teenaged copy of Jack O'Neill. The figures began to move about, their miniature bodies dancing to the music that emanated from the hologram.

Daniel smiled, delighted. "Thanks!"

"Oh fer cryin' out loud," Jack muttered.

"Now, Jack, don't worry; I didn't forget about you," Clone Boy said. "Here ya go, old man!"

Jack looked over just in time to receive a face full of tee shirt. He pulled the garment off his face and looked at it. Although he couldn't read the writing, he knew a tour tee shirt when he saw one.

"Unfortunately, the largest size if an extra large, so you might need to lay off the fruit loops for a while if you wanna be able to squeeze into."

"Cute," Jack groused at the smirking Jack wannabe. He glanced over at Daniel. "Trade ya?"

Daniel clutched his new toy to his chest. "No."

"Fine."

"Don't pout, Jack. After all, you've already got your miniature Jack to play with."

Jack studiously ignored the Daniel's self-satisfied smile and the snickers coming from the direction of his 2IC.

Jack shook his head. "No respect. I get *no* respect." He looked over at Mini-Me. "So...what now?"

"Well, now you go home, I guess. I'll have my driver take you back to the Stargate, you gate back to Earth and report to Hammond. In the meantime, I'll talk to Minister Vasharn on your behalf. They're pretty open minded here; I think they'd probably be willing to negotiate with you and at the very least open up diplomatic ties."

"Are you sure you want to stay?" Daniel asked in his gentlest voice.

Mini-Me blinked slowly, then nodded. "Yeah, I do. It's the best thing. For all of us. Now get lost, will ya? I've got a rehearsal in..." he glanced down at his wrist. "...about one hetar."

"Hetar?"

"Hour."

"Oh, right."

Li'l Jack pushed a button on a console on the table and spoke into it. A moment later one of the bruisers appeared at the door.

"Mr. O'Neill?"

"My guests are leaving, Cato. Could you escort them down to the flitter and tell the driver to return them to the Stargate?"

"Of course, sir," the burly man said with a half bow towards Jack Junior. "If you'll follow me?"

"Sure, lead on McDuff."

The four members of SG-1 followed the man to the elevator that would lead them back down the way they had come. Jack paused at the threshold and turned to look at his teenaged body double. He was standing there, his body softly backlit from the shimmering lights of the cityscape beyond, his face cast in shadow. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light, perhaps it was Jack's own imagination reading something that wasn't there, but for a brief moment Jack could see himself reflected in eyes that were too old and too weary for a face so young. He felt a sudden stab of regret and then the doors of the elevator closed and the vision was gone.

[] [] []

Jack awoke with a start. He looked about himself, his heart pounding harshly in his chest as he gulped for air. Damn, but that had been one weird assed dream. He scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as if that could somehow erase the vestiges of the dream. Jack decided he could really use a beer.

He hauled himself off the sofa and padded towards the kitchen. He paused when he realized that there was music playing. He walked over to the stereo and withdrew the CD sitting in the changer. He frowned. N'Sync? What the hell...?

And then he remembered; Cassie had come over to study. Her mom was driving her absolutely nuts and she just needed a place where she could have a little peace. Jack has agreed because, well, he never could say no to Cassie and besides, he might be forty and some change, but he remembered what it could be like to be a teenager. Cassie had beamed at him in gratitude and Jack had left her to her studies and gone about his own business.

Jack returned the CD to the jewel case sitting on the receiver; he'd have to remember to return it to her. Jeez, boybands, fer cryin' out loud. No wonder he'd been having wacky dreams.

Jack paused again as more the dream began to coalesce in his mind. He shook his head in mild disgust. It was a dream after all. Just a weird mental hairball thrown up by his imagination as a result of too little sleep, too much Mexican food and the evil influence of boyband music. None of it was real. Right?

Right?

He frowned again but came to a sudden decision. He picked up the phone and held the receiver to his ear. His finger hovered over the buttons for a moment and then he punched in the number. He knew it by heart even though he'd never actually dialed it. The phone rang three times, four times and then a voice answered.

//"Hello?"//

"Hey, it's me. Look, I was wondering if...well...if you didn't have any plans for tomorrow if...well...maybe you'd want to come over for pizza and watch the hockey game? The Red Wings are playin'. No pressure or anything."

The silence stretched between them and Jack began to curse himself for a moron.

//"I'd like that...Jack. What time?"//

Jack gave a sigh of relief. "Seven OK? The game starts at eight. That'll give me plenty of time to swing 'round and pick you up and order the pizza before they hit the ice."

//"OK. Sounds good. I'll...I guess I'll see you tomorrow."//

"Yeah."

//"Yeah, OK, well I guess I'll see ya then. 'Night, Jack."//

"Night...Jack," Jack said as he hung up the phone.

Jack stood there for a long time, his body softly backlit by the floor lamp, his features cast in shadow. Finally, he turned off the light and went to bed.

OK, this fic is all Danvers' fault since she is the one who had to go and propose a "Whatever Happened to Mini Jack?" challenge in response to my "So what do you thing really happened to Jail Bait Jack at the end of Fragile Balance?" poll.