(disclaimers et al in part 1)

"I think it's clear from this that the tech level's about equivalent to ours in the late sixties early seventies." Sam set a plastic box about six inches by four down on the table in the living room of the suite SG-1 had been given after an afternoon of being swarmed by local politicians all insisting that the aliens would have to spend the night.

Daniel stared at it blankly, realized neither Jack nor Teal'c had anymore idea than he did and finally asked. "What is it?"

Sam grinned and ran her thumb nail along a nearly invisible seam, popping off the front of the case. She turned one of the two exposed dials. From out of a tiny speaker came a blare of music and an insistent voice suggesting that Shannie's was the place to buy karbansa.

Jack grinned as well. "Transistor radio."

She nodded and turned it off, sitting back down on one of the uncomfortable vinyl covered chairs. "Essentially."

"If they have a planet wide communication network, it may not be safe for us to remain." Standing by the window, darker than usual against the background of pale pink flowered drapes, Teal'c frowned down at the box. "It has been my experience that governments do not welcome the presence of aliens."

"He has a point, Carter."

"Yes, sir, except that radio waves are less than reliable due to the same solar radiation that kept us from detecting them when we sent through the MALP. As near as I can tell with the equipment I have, their sun pumps out a supplementary radiation on the same wavelength as the To'kra's cloaking device."

"You're saying that this planet's sun acts like a cloaking device?"

"Yes sir. In fact, I just said exactly that. And," she continued before Jack could comment, "that same wavelength makes radio waves unreliable outside very localized parameters such as the area around the Stargate just after a wormhole forms."

"Which means..." Daniel took up the briefing. "...phone calls, or the planetary land line equivalent have been made and the proper authorities have been informed and will be on the way but, thanks to the national holiday celebrating the Ancient's Festival, we have any where from twenty four to forty-eight hours before they arrive. Plenty of time for the diplomatic party to make it through gate and relieve us."

"Just can't understand why we're not allowed to do the diplomatic thing anymore," Jack muttered picking up the radio. Sam visibly resisted the urge to take it from him. He turned it on, got either a burst of static or some remarkably bad music, and asked as he turned it off again, "Are we in any danger if we stay?"

"They have a militia but no standing army," Teal'c said from his position at the window. "Their weapons are primitive."

"Small population base, whole world to spread out in – once the raiders stopped coming, they had no enemies and no reason to make enemies of each other," Daniel expanded on Teal'c's observation.

Jack snorted. "Oh there are always reasons to make enemies."

Daniel bit back a sarcastic 'you should know', recognizing, even through his caffeine headache that it would be uncalled for. Accurate enough perhaps, but a little mean. Dragging his pack across the green on green patterned carpet he rummaged for his lozenges and settled for a terse: "Granted. But with an entire planet at your disposal, it's easier just to walk away. And most of the time that seems to have happened," he added conscientiously as he dug through the outside pockets. "Bottom line, these people don't tend to pick violence as their first option."

"And they were remarkably lucky to get have half a dozen innovative thinkers in a single generation. It pushed their technology level ahead without the impetus of war." Sam's eyes were gleaming. "Their industrial revolution happened essentially overnight."

"And speaking of overnight..." Jack dropped his feet down off the already scuffed low table he'd been using a footstool. "...do we stay?"

"We are in no danger, O'Neill."

"And given the effect of the solar radiation, I'd like to take more readings after the sun sets."

"Daniel?"

With his head almost all the way into his pack, Daniel's raised his voice enough to be heard. "You'd have to drag me away from the sort of people who, at a festival to remember the hard times, set up a Goa'uld in a dunk tank."

"Yeah, but since we'd also have to drag you away from the sort of people who think the only good visitor through the Stargate is a visitor covered in barbeque sauce," Jack muttered, "that's not exactly a recommendation. What," he added sharply as Daniel dumped a spare pair of socks out onto the floor, "are you looking for?"

"I opened a new pack of caffeine pills up by the gate." He dropped his journal by the socks and continued to rummage. "I can't find them."

"Were they your last pack, DanielJackson?"

Had it been any other man, Daniel would have thought that Teal'c's feet were shuffling nervously, dragging the high nap of the carpet first one way and then the other. Given that it was Teal'c, there had to be some other explanation. "No." He tapped the end of the unopened package against the top of his pack. "I have one more."

"Will they be enough?"

On the other hand, given the tone of Teal'c's voice, maybe shuffling nervously wasn't so far off. And it wasn't just Teal'c. Sam was gripping the arms of her chair so tightly, her knuckles were white. Jack was wearing what Daniel liked to call his, "Don't mind me, I'm just threat assessing." face. It was the face he wore when he wanted the assessee to know he was on the job. Right at the moment, it was Jack's face that was really starting to piss Daniel off.

"I am not going to suddenly go insane and start doing whatever it is you think I'm going to start doing!" he snapped. "As I am perfectly capable of maintaining my equilibrium in the face of charging Jaffa, I'd like to think that I can do the same in the face of ... or the lack of face of... or the not having a cup of... Damn it, I'm fine!" Ripping a caffeine lozenge free, he popped it into his mouth and tried to pretend he wasn't fully aware he was, perhaps, just a little on edge. Why was it that the *lack of a stimulant was making him so jumpy?

The others stared at him for a moment longer, perhaps wondering the same thing.

Finally, Jack nodded and stood. "All right then. We'll stay the night and head back to the gate tomorrow morning in time to meet the new guys coming in. Take your sidearms but leave everything else in the room – have you all got your keys?"

It a moment for Daniel to find the plastic triangle with the key attached – in his own defense, BDU's had one hell of a lot of pockets. He held it up as Sam and Teal'c were putting theirs away.

"Good. Enjoy yourself but be careful about the wining and dining; we don't need a repeat of P97-KKY."

Sam flushed red as she started for the door. "We got the naquada, sir."

"MajorCarter made a great impression on the council," Teal'c reminded them.

"I wouldn't even begin to consider arguing with that, T-man." Jack waved the two of them out the door and waited for Daniel. "You sure you're okay?"

He could feel the caffeine dilating blood vessels and returning him to somewhere in the vicinity of his regularly scheduled programming. "I'm good. Really." The decorating in the hall was the opposite of the room – orange carpet, green print walls. Watching Jack lock the door, he wondered if every free culture went through a shag rug and paisley phase. Missing it might just be the only bright side of being suppressed by the Goa'uld.

"So," he said as they walked down the hall, "we trust these people enough to lock our packs and large weapons into a room that reminds me of a Motel Six I stayed in once outside of Cleveland..."

"Alone?" Jack asked, one eyebrow cocked.

"None of your business."

"Ah." There was a distinctly expectant tone to Jack's voice. "Not alone."

"Okay, once again..." Daniel shot a look down the hall toward Sam and Teal'c who'd slowed and seemed to be listening and then past them to their 'escorts' waiting by the elevator. "...I am not going to tell you lurid stories of my not particularly wild youth..."

"So it's a lurid story."

"And second, that's not the point. The point is; I'm noticing that we trust these people enough to leave our gear behind under dubious security but not enough to come unarmed to a party."

"Mixed messages," Jack agreed equably. "That's what's wrong with the world."

***

"So let me see if I got this right..." Leaning against the fence surrounding a herd of placid quadrupeds who continued to chew their cud completely unconcerned by the noisy party filling the fairgrounds, Davin, Cali's father, stared up at Teal'c and emphasized each point he made with a cylinder of herbs wrapped in thin paper. "You were one of the people like the raiders but then you met that lot..."

"SG-1 of the Tauri," Teal'c added helpfully.

"... and now you're not a raider any more."

"That is essentially correct."

"So what did they offer you to make you give up raiding?"

"Freedom."

"From what?"

"From slavery to false gods."

"Quite the offer," Davin murmured appreciatively then bent his head and lit the cylinder, filling his lungs with pungent smoke.

It was, Teal'c realized, much like the cigarettes that were killing the people of earth – only the herb was different. It reminded him of the smoke that rose to wreathe the domes of the temples back on Chulak and he was, for just a moment, strangely homesick.

Still holding his breath, Davin waved the unlit end of the cylinder in Teal'c's direction. "Share?" he croaked on a further inhale.

"Thank you." The taste of the smoke reminded him of something besides the temples of false gods. Something that involved bright colors and loud music... He frowned as the memory slipped away and he inhaled the smoke again to see if it would help. It did not. Although, upon reflection, the absence of the memory did not particularly bother him.

***

Sam was having trouble finding someone to talk science with; everyone seemed to be having far too good a time at the festival's final celebration and, other than a distinct 'the more the merrier' feeling, none of the locals appeared to care that they were being visited by actual aliens. As she crossed the fairground, they offered food – the lizard on a stick turned out to be remarkably tasty -- and drinks – one held a small pink umbrella -- and companionship – with rather explicit explanations of just what that companionship involved -- but no one seemed interested in filling her in on the society's technological achievements.

Cautiously sipping a pale green liquid that tasted like pineapple juice and vodka, she stood on the outside edge of a noisy circle of dancing people and suddenly smiled. She was at party. Where did geeks go at a party? She stepped back, further away from the lights and laughter and began to circle the grounds.

She found them at last sitting around a compact fire. One of them had hung a kettle over the flames and built a steam generated contraption just for the sake of building it. Two others were involved in a heated discussion concerning rates of velocity. Three others passed a flask back and forth that Sam knew would contain a liquid with a higher alcohol content than anything else at the party. There was always at least one chemist in these kinds of groups and chemists understood the point behind triple distilling.

As she came into the light, conversations ceased and all eyes turned toward her.

"Hi." She smiled. "I'm one of the aliens. Please save me from another conversation that starts with the phrase 'our two peoples'."

"How about a conversation that wonders about the phase speed of radiant energy traveling a 100 quint within a rectangular guide of 3 quier."

"Well, we'd have to discuss comparative measurements since I don't know what either a quint or a quier is but it would depend on the free-space wave length of the radiation."

And just like that, she was in.

And she was right about the contents of the flask.

***

"Now this you'll find to have a stronger flavor up front but with an almost nutty aftertaste." Member of Council Jindrek Kens handed Jack another glass half-filled with liquid that looked richly red in the firelight. He leaned a little closer and dropped his voice to slurred murmur. "Now a good judge has no favorites but me, I have to say, in a pinch, I'd pinch this."

Jack swirled the liquid around in the glass, stared into it for an appreciative moment then took a long swallow. "Nutty," he agreed licking amber foam off his upper lip.

"But better than this?" Council Kens tapped the edge of a previous glass that still held an inch or so of darker liquid.

"To be sure, I'd have to..."

"Try it again. Of course!" The councilor pushed Jack's glass closer and lifted his own. "To our two peoples!"

"Our two peoples!" As the glasses clinked, Jack had to admit he was getting the hang of this diplomacy shit. And a good thing he was only helping to judge the homebrew – a few of the entered beers had quite the kick. Or would have quite the kick were he actually drinking them instead of just tasting. Diplomatically.

***

"So..."

Startled, Daniel jumped then turned and looked down at the short, round, elderly woman who'd suddenly appeared by his left elbow.

"...our Cali says you're having a bit of trouble in the evacuation department."

Unfortunately, Daniel's brain caught up to his surprise one word late. "Evacuation?"

"She says she saw you straining to dump."

"Oh my God..."

The old woman seemed to find an unholy amount of amusement in his reaction. After the wheezy laughter died down a bit, she patted his arm with a dimpled hand. "Not the only thing she says she saw either."

His cheeks had gone past scarlet and settle somewhere around cheap Vegas neon. "I didn't mean..."

"Not supposing for a moment you did. You can just count your lucky kremlacs that it was Cali not Serenla you were dangling your dingle at. Our Serenla'd be on you like flies on flop. In fact..." She frowned thoughtfully, the wrinkles of her face accordion pleating into new patterns. "...given the way our Cali's been talking, you might want to keep an eye out for Serenla anyway. But..." Her hand tightened. "...you're a full grown, good looking man and I'm sure I don’t need to be warning you about inappropriate behavior with teenagers. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about. It's the other."

"The other?" Daniel asked weakly. He scanned the celebrating crowd wondering how many girls he needed to watch out for and where the hell was Jack?

"Your evacuation problem. Here."

Right. His evacuation problem. As reported by Cali to her grandmother and apparently the rest of her extended family. He stared at the small square package the old woman shoved into his hand.

"You eat that, all of it mind, and you get yourself over by the facilities 'cause when it hits, you're going to want to be somewhere you can drop your drawers."

It gave slightly under the pressure of his fingers and smelled faintly, and not unpleasantly, of lemon and licorice. "I don't..."

"That right." Grey curls bobbed as she nodded agreement, the movement doing double duty by keeping the beat of the vaguely polka-like music blaring out over the fair's sound system. "You don't. And you need to. Can't enjoy a party when you're all bunged up. I've seen you, here it is the last night of the Ancient's Festival, a night for celebration and you're not eating, not drinking. Spending your time listening to old men telling boring lies."

"That's not why..." How long had she been watching him? "It's just... I'm interested in your folktales, in your culture."

"Celebrating is culture. Food and drink is culture."

"Well, yes, but..."

"Afraid we'll poison you."

"No. Of course not. It's just... I have a stomach thing."

"Thing?"

"Problem."

"Tied to the other?"

Since it was long past time to suggest his digestive system was none of her business, Daniel sighed. "Sort of. If I eat or drink the wrong things, it... well, it hurts." And then, because they were even further past the whole maintaining his machismo thing, he added, "A lot."

"Ah. I know of what you speak." Still holding his arm with one hand, she rummaged about in her clothes with the other and pulled out a corked glass bottle. "This'll help. My boy Davin, Cali's Bahpa makes it. It's herbal." Round black eyes twinkled up at him. "With a little bit of alcohol, mind, to hold the herbs in place. Practically medicinal. Soothing. I'm telling you, if your stomach's giving you grief, this'll teach it whose boss."

The bottle was a little warm from her body heat and heavier than it looked. "I can't..."

"Sure you can. I've got more and I hate to see a good looking man suffer. Now you go and do as you're told." She shifted her grip, turned him about 45 degrees, and gave him a shove. "Facilities at the far end of the arena likely'll have the least number of people."

Unable to think of a single coherent thing to say, Daniel settled for the universal way of dealing with embarrassing advice. "Thank you."

"Don't be thanking me, I'm doing it for our two peoples. Settle your stomach down and you can start learning about our culture with a smile on your face."

Making his way toward the far end of the arena, Daniel had to admit that sounded like a good idea.

The square tasted like it smelled. Although the lemon flavor was stronger, the licorice lingered. Five minutes passed. Nothing. Apparently it didn't work on...

His stomach made a noise that sounded frighteningly like an incoming wormhole.

***

"To freedom!" Davin inhaled deeply and passed the burning herb to Teal'c.

"Freedom!" Teal'c pinched the cylinder between thumb and forefinger and sucked in a lungful of smoke. His symbiote stirred languidly when he finally exhaled.

"Quite the lung power," Davin murmured approvingly.

Teal'c nodded. "Dude."

"Dude?"

"It is a Tauri word that means I agree. It also means friend and hello and, if used loudly, enough asks the listener just what he thinks he is doing. Young Tauri males can have entire conversations consisting only of this word."

Davin nodded, took another drag and passed the herb back. "Good word."

"Indeed." Leaning back on his elbows, Teal'c smiled as the smoke drifted out of his nose.

"You're kind of scary when you do that, dude."

The smile broadened.

***

"No no no no no. No. The whole planet is cloaked 'cause the sun is the cloaking devish and the sun is always there."

"Not at night."

Sam removed Patoric's hand off her leg and sighed. "Is still there. Just not here." She gestured randomly up at the stars. "Is there."

"Where?"

"Other side of the..." The word was gone. Still there were lots of other words. "...of the here."

Patoric frowned, took a swallow from the circling flask, and passed it to her. "Wouldn't other side be there?" He pointed. "Through there."

"My boot?"

"The ground."

"Right. Sure. Through there." She saluted him with the flask and passed it on in turn.

"Have sex with me."

"No."

An arm went around Sam's shoulders from the other side and a voice slurred by her ear. "Don't like men?"

She turned to come nose to nose with a middle-aged woman who Sam seemed to remember was some kind of engineer. "Like men fine. Just..."

"...not him?"

"Just not him. No offense," she added to Patoric. He grinned and had another drink. "Very fond of men," she continued a little sadly. "Jush no time to be fond. Or is a bad time. You know?"

"I know." It seemed for a moment that all the nodding was leading toward collapse but Sam's new friend managed to pull it together and stand, dragging Sam up onto her feet. "Sister, have I got shomething for you."

***

"Our two peebles!"

Jack crashed his mug into the councilor's. "PEEBLES! Both of them!"

They were drinking the fourth place beer. It hadn't won anything and they didn't want the person who'd brewed it to feel bad.

***

Daniel felt good. Great. Twelve pounds lighter. Maybe fifteen. He headed back toward the merry making with a spring in his step and his digital recorder in hand.

It wasn't hard to get people to talk. Although it wasn't always easy to understand them.

"...like this Dr. Jackshun... It's like thish, our written hishtory starts about fourteen hundred yearn ago though mostly it consi... constis... is made up of the journals of one man and you're looking a little peaked... Have some fried roran."

"...five hunerade years ago a shscholar name of Jerin Korsh, he gathered all the old tales in... well, inna library. My bahpa was a liberarianan... an. Has anyone fed you? Have a nobin fritter."

"... and so they sharted up the Festival of the Ancients to tie us to our pasht... but not tie like with ropes but with you know, history and the weight of where we came from 'cause sweet mother of dop, things were changin' so fast. Hey. You're platesh empty. Can't have that. Gotta do right by visitorsh. Have a piece of this pie. One of my wives made it."

Nor was it easy to avoid the constant offers of food and drink. During the Ancient's Festival the adults fasted from sunrise to sunset, modern hunger linking them back to the hard times just after the Goa'uld brought them this world. After sunset, and particularly on this, the last night, they made up for lost time. Daniel found that the only way to keep from drinking an astounding amount of alcohol was to keep eating. As long as he had something in his mouth, the locals seemed happy.

About halfway through his third serving of nobin fritters, he began to feel the familiar burn just under his sternum. Not good. While his companions argued over the truth of a particularly lurid folktale, Daniel slipped the bottle Cali's grandmother had given him out of his pocket, worked the cork free and took a tentative sip -- his year on Abydos had taught him that herbal remedies, as a general rule, tasted like mastid piss. The liquid was at body temperature and tasted vaguely herbal – where vaguely could be defined as almost pleasant. Surprised, he took a larger swallow. He could feel gentle warm moving from the back of his mouth, down his throat, and spreading as it reached his stomach. After a moment, he could only feel the warmth. The reflux burn was gone.

"Damn."

"Ish there a prublum, Dr. Jashshun?"

"No, everything's fine." He took another swallow just to be on the safe side and slipped the bottle back in his pocket. A little while later, when faced with a bowl of spicy squash dip, he took another drink. And a little while after that, as a local newspaper reporter and her wife bracketed him each holding what looked like giant butter tarts, he took another.

And later another.

***

"See, they don't call it a elevator, they call it a lift. 'Cause it liftsh." Daniel frowned at Jack. "Lifts," he repeated, carefully pronouncing the sibilants. "And it lowers. Why don't they call it a lower, then?"

Jack belched and looked pleased at the way the sound echoed in the confined space of the motel's lift. "Beats me."

"Call it a lift in England. Call things the way they see things in England. And Scotland. And maybe Wales but you never can tell with Wales. Save the Wales!"

"Bollocks!"

"No, really."

"I believe you. I just like the word."

"How come no one ever call it a lower. Lowers a good word. Great word. Germanic root. Lower Egypt."

"What?"

"Lifts."

"Right." He draped an arm over Daniel's shoulders and yanked him close. "Somewhere..." His free hand sketched a huge lopsided circle in the air. "...somewhere, someone calls it a lower. It's a fuckin' big universe."

"What about fucking?"

"Damned right!" Frowning, he bounced up and down a couple of times. "Are we moving?"

"We gotta press buttons. Did you press buttons? Cause I didn't press buttons. I like buttons." Daniel groped for Jack's fly as Jack leaned forward and very, very carefully pressed every button on the panel.

"Daniel..."

"Jack."

"You have been drinking. Drinking, I tell you!"

"Nope. Not me. No drinking. Lots of eating. Lots and lots and lots of eating. Food is culture. Okay, drinking fruit juice and water and maybe something that was sort of like coffee maybe but not. And not culture neither. Either. Or. Don't tell Janet."

"Two many words. You're drunk."

"Your pants are undone!" He smiled in triumph as the doors opened on the second floor. "And I am not drunk. You're drunk."

"I had a beer."

"One?"

"Maybe two."

"Lemme smell your breath."

Jack snorted but turned his face to Daniel's. "Can't count beer on bre... Cheating," he gasped a moment later. "Used your tongue."

Right hand clutching a fistful of Jack's shirt, Daniel leaned back far enough for Jack to see his leer. "Gonna use my tongue all over your body!"

"Hand!"

"That too."

"No." Jack's head dropped forward as he tried to focus below his waist where Daniel's hand disappeared through his open fly. "You're holding my dick."

"I am?" He squeezed and laughed as Jack groaned. "Come on this is our floor. Although it's not our floor really. It's just the floor we're on. The room is on. Our room. Is on this floor. Here. Down the hall." Maintaining his grip on warm flesh, he backed up. Jack's cock emerged from his trousers half-hard already, its length wrapped in Daniel's hand. Daniel tugged.

Jack groaned again. "Can't get out of the elevator..."

"Lift."

"Whatever. Can't leave with you holding my dick."

"Why?"

Jack tapped one finger against the side of his nose. "You are not supposed to ask. Only, you know, not just you."

"Oh." Daniel leaned back a little and glanced up and down the hall. "This is our floor. No one else on the floor. Jush ush."

"Just us?"

"That's what I said. You gotta move your feet, Jack. Left. Right. Left. Right."

"We're marching?" Jack looked down and snickered. "Dicks on parade."

By the time they got to their door, Jack was bucking his hips forward with every step, working his cock against Daniel's hand. He fumbled his key free and thrust it at the lock, his brain repeating 'get into the room' 'get into the room' over and over as Daniel's clever fingers worked at his belt. "Little help!"

"Am helping. You're wearing too many clothings. Cloths. Fabric."

The key slipped into the lock just as Daniel's hand, the hand not gripping Jack's cock, slipped down over the curve of Jack's bare ass. Turning the key was reflex, as was grabbing his pants before they slipped down around his ankles as he stumbled forward into the room. The lights came on automatically as he crossed the threshold. Cheap hotel room. Cheap alien hotel room. Alien...

"Daniel..."

Daniel took advantage of his open mouth by sticking his tongue into it and Jack, drowning in wet, carnal kisses, forgot just what exactly he'd been going to say. Loosing his grip on his pants, he shuffled backwards, pushed by the heat and pressure of Daniel's body, until the backs of his knees hit something solid and he suddenly sat down, his mouth separating from Daniel's with a hysterical sound.

"Mouth far... JESUS!" The orange plastic chair was cold against bare skin. He bounced up but Daniel grabbed a fistful of his shirt in both hands and shoved him back.

"I like buttons."

Buttons flew all over the room. Jack started to giggle as one pinged off a lamp shade then giggled harder at the look on Daniel's face as one last button defiantly continued to hold Jack's shirt together.

"Well, poop."

"Poop?" Jack couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard. Then, between an inhale and an exhale, the laughter changed to something between a howl and a moan and tight wet heat engulfed his cock. He gripped the wood veneer arms of the chair as strong fingers dug into the cheeks of his ass and dragged him out to the very edge. Nothing but air under his balls. Air under his balls and Daniel's tongue driving him insane and Daniel's fingers pushing into his body and he was so relaxed with the beer and the kissing and the hand and the mouth....

"Oh God yes..."

He closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them again, Teal'c was standing looking down at him. Teal'c who seemed to have Carter wrapped around him like a... front pack?

Jack pushed at Daniel's head but Daniel wasn't being distracted from the task at hand, that being the devouring of Jack's dick. So Jack, with his pants around his ankles and his balls hanging off the edge of an orange plastic chair and Daniel's mouth on his cock and Daniel's fingers in his ass stared up at Teal'c and frowned and said, "Why is Carter buzzing?"

In answer, Carter leaned back, her legs wrapped around Teal'c's waist until she was hanging nearly upside down off the big guy's body. In one hand she held a pink plastic penis, nearly the same colour as her flushed cheeks, and she seemed to be in some kind of belt contraption that held an equally garish pink piece of plastic against her crotch.

"I got the best prezzie," she giggled.

Teal'c smiled enigmatically, grabbing her by the front of the shirt and hauling her upright.

Jack noticed that none of Carter's buttons went flying and he would have been a bit annoyed about that except Daniel chose that moment to quirk a finger so he howled instead and as Daniel murmured something about folklore, the vibration pushed him over the edge.

Teal'c nodded. "Dude."

By the time his brain re-engaged his 2IC and the Jaffa had vanished into one of the suite's two bedrooms. He stared down the length of his torso at Daniel who had nudged his limp dick aside was sucking hieroglyphs into the inner flesh of his thigh. That meant something. Teal'c. Carter. Bedroom. Right.

"Daniel."

Daniel blinked at him.

"Two bedrooms." He held up the equivalent number of fingers. Then he counted again and folded one down. "Them. And us. Bedroom."

"Bed?"

"Ya sure, you betcha."

It took them a while to figure out his pants and then a while longer for Daniel to take off his so Jack wouldn't feel underdressed but then they were moving toward the bedroom, Daniel bumping his erection against Jack's ass with every step.

"Hey, my assa su your assa, just on the bad. Bard. Bed. Too old for any more fucking on a coffee table." He paused at the open bedroom door, head cocked toward the closed. "What the hell are they doing in there?"

He could feel Daniel's frown. He could also feel the head of Daniel's cock slip between the cheeks of his ass.

"Maybe When Harry Met Sally's on pay-for-view," Daniel murmured nudging him toward the bed.

***

Thin pillow gripped in both hands, Daniel buried his screaming head and wondered what the hell they put in stomach medicine on this world. The last time he'd had a hangover this bad, Janet had convinced him that Crème de Menthe over ice cream was a good idea.

The mattress jerked under him as a heavy body flung itself out of the bed and movement jiggled a couple more brain cells online. His head wasn't screaming. Well, his head was screaming but the actual sound was a siren.

Fuck.

Somehow, he managed to find the floor with his feet and by the time he was standing, Jack had already got his pants on and was dragging his t-shirt down off one of the wall sconces. Except it was Daniel's t-shirt because the shirt Daniel was pulling over his head was a full size too small.

"Jack..."

"Not important."

"But..."

"Pants, Daniel."

"Right." With a vague memory of his underwear being used as a hat, he dragged them on commando, stuffed his bare feet into his boots, yanked the laces tight and pounded out of the room after Jack.

"O'Neill!"

"I hear them."

The window in the common room of the suite overlooked the fairgrounds. Weapons in hand, Jack and Teal'c hit opposite sides of the window at about the same time as Daniel careened off Sam charging out of the other room.

"Bra's on inside out," he grunted, grabbing the doorframe and somehow keeping them both on their feet.

"Bite me." She scrambled into her t-shirt – also inside out – and headed for the window as Daniel remembered that Sam with a hangover could be more terrifying than any over-wrought system lord.

By the time Daniel joined the rest of the team, they could see half a dozen figures staggering from the hotel to the fairgrounds.

"What the hell is happening?" Jack snarled.

"Let me find out for you, sir." Bloodshot eyes rolling, Sam threw open the window, leaned out and bellowed, "Hey! What the hell is happening?"

The closest of the staggering figures turned, and putting his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, yelled back, "Orlas!" Then he took a moment to throw up.

"Carter!" Jack grabbed the waistband of Sam's pants and pulled her back into the room. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting you the answers, sir." Her lip curled. "Just like always. It's Orlas."

"Yeah, I heard that."

Sam shot Jack a look that suggested her work here was done and dropped to one knee to do up her boots as Daniel fumbled the last of his caffeine lozenges out of his pack and sucked one into his mouth.

"Daniel."

"An Orlas is the same as an Unas, Jack." He crunched, swallowed, and unwrapped a second lozenge.

"I know that, Daniel. Now share."

Daniel's fingers tightened around the package. "These are all I have left."

Jack winced as he shrugged into his vest. "Daniel, I have the hangover to end all hangovers and I need a coffee before I face a bunch of Unas who should be extinct. Pass them out!"

"I don't..."

"Now!"

Sam finished swallowing a mouthful of aspirin and, with both hands slapping on gear, took the lozenge off his fingers like a piece of the Host.

"Caffeine of Christ," he muttered crossing to Jack whose lips seemed slightly swollen and whose eyebrows looked like they'd been licked in the wrong direction. Jack took his lozenge without comment. Teal'c declined.

"I am feeling fine, DanielJackson and do not require stimulants."

"Times like these..." Daniel shoved the one remaining lozenge in his pocket and picked up his sidearm. "...I almost hate you."

The Jaffa inclined his head imperiously. "I understand."

"Let's go people!"

***

"They're juvenile males. Both of them."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Daniel peered around the section of fence SG-1 was using for cover. "Their facial horns have only just emerged."

Squinting into the early morning light, Jack watched the pair of Unas – Orlas... whatever – jumping up and down on one of the fake gliders they'd pulled from the ride. One of them – and they were almost impossible to tell apart – ripped a hunk of twisted metal off the wreck underfoot and raised it over his head, screaming out... something really painful. "I may shoot them just for that," Jack muttered, wincing. It wasn't so much a hangover as over and over and over. "What did he say, Daniel?"

"That'll teach you, motherfucker!" When the rest of the team turned to stare at him, Daniel shrugged, carefully. "I'm paraphrasing but that's the gist of it."

"Just the gist, ma'am."

"Sir?"

"Just thinking out loud. They seem to be ignoring the locals." Drumming his fingers against the stock of his weapon, Jack nodded toward the clump of men and women peering about the edge of the dunk tank. Almost as though they'd been waiting for him to point it out, the Unas leapt off the destroyed glider and charged toward the tank. "Or not. Warning shot in front of the one on the left, Carter. Two in the dirt, just to be safe."

Carter muttered a pained, "Yes, sir." as Daniel yelled, "No, Jack!"

"Why the hell not?" he demanded as screaming locals scattered, a raised hand holding Carter back. His glare suggested no one mention that his hand was shaking.

"First, they're not going after the people! They're going after the fake gate!"

Which they were. One launched himself off the top of the dunk tank and onto the painted circle where he clung and kicked. The other attacked a lower part of the curve.

"And second?"

"You fire that thing and my head will explode."

Since Jack wasn't too sure about his own head, he lowered his weapon. "Those two don't look particularly extinct."

"When the Goa'uld stopped coming here the Unas probably retreated up into the mountains. It would be easy enough to for them to hide..." Daniel paused to swallow convulsively four or five times. "...these people almost never go past the Stargate."

"You stay on your side, I stay on mine," Carter offered, blood-shot eyes squinted nearly shut.

"Our arrival may have drawn these two down out of the mountains," Teal'c observed. "They are young and the young seldom combine curiosity with caution."

Jack snorted as the fake Stargate began to sway under the double assault. "Well, they're certainly not cautious. What are they doing?"

"The Unas were slaves as well, remember." Daniel shifted a little so that he was crouched in Teal'c's shadow. "I think..." He belched, spat, and continued. "...they're attacking the symbols of the Goa'uld, destroying the representation of their oppressors."

Right about then, with a shriek of nails pulling free, the fake stargate began to topple. The Unas still on the ground, danced back, ducking a chunk of wood spat out of the collapsing structure. The Unas hanging from the gate tried to swing free, turned a summersault and fell.

Yelling. Crashing. Shrieking. And, ultimately, splashing.

"And that's a big seven point nine from the Russian judge," Jack muttered as the Unas out of the tank howled with laughter and shouted something at the Unas in the tank. "Daniel?"

"Jackass."

He turned, eyebrows raised.

Daniel sighed. "Rough translation."

"The gist again?"

"More or less. He..." Daniel pointed. "...is taunting him..." The indicating finger moved. "...because he's in the water."

"Makes sense," Jack allowed. In the same situation he'd indulge in a little taunting himself. "So what are you..." The crack of over-stressed timbers interrupted and a second later, the tank shattered. His bladder gave an unpleasant twinge at the sight of all the rushing water. He sighed as the wet Unas jumped the dry Unas and they rolled around in the mud, "I'm drawing the line at Unas mud wrestling. Daniel, get out there and... Are you going to barf?"

"I'm thinking about it."

"Well, hold that thought; you've got work to do. Get out there and talk nice."

"Wait DanielJackson." Teal'c's arm was a pretty impassible barrier on a good day. Today, Jack doubted Daniel could figure out how to crawl under it. "These Unas do not behave as other Unas we have encountered."

"Well they're certainly livelier," Jack admitted. Unas One jumped up, leapt over the counter at a concession stand, and began throwing... something. Looked a bit like ducks on a stick. Stuffed, fluffy, yellow ducks on a stick. Unas Two picked up handfuls of mud and returned fire, arm movements jerky and staccato. After the fourth or fifth handful, he caught sight of the sun glinting on the mirror outside the funhouse and bounded over toward it. Unas One shrieked and bounded after him. Something about their actions looked familiar but the echoes of that shriek bouncing about against the inside of his skull made it hard to think.

He waved a hand at a group of locals creeping around the nearest corner of the arena. "It's okay! We're on it!"

They looked relieved, waved back, and disappeared.

"They look like they're on something."

"They probably feel much like we do, Major."

"Not them, sir. The Unas."

Jack whirled to face his 2IC, finger alongside his nose. "That's it, Carter! They're juiced, high, tanked, feeling no pain."

"How nice for them," Daniel muttered. "This planet does grow some powerful herbage."

Teal'c nodded. "I concur."

"Wouldn't the Unas know enough to stay away from that sort of stuff?"

"Carter, Carter, Carter..." Jack sighed as Unas One caught up with Unas Two and sat on his head. "Teenagers don't stay away from that sort of stuff. They seek it out. Kids that age..." He nodded toward the fairgrounds and wished he hadn't. "...are always willing to try new... Daniel."

"Jack?"

"First, did you know your eyes look like two balls of very lean bacon?"

"Please don't mention food at a time like this."

"And second, didn't you say you'd misplaced a nearly full package of caffeine lozenges?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Any chance you could have left them up by the gate?"

"No, I... They might have..." Daniel ran both hands back through his hair – or would have had he not been holding his sidearm in one of them. "OW! And crap. I must've lost it when I was packing up the tarp and the power bars."

"Caffeinated teenage Unas." Jack snickered as Unas Two flipped Unas One upside down. "Say that three times fast. And then," he added before Daniel could respond, "get your ass out there and talk nice before they add assault to property damage."

Daniel opened his mouth to protest, closed it, and shrugged. Still carefully. "I have no idea what to say to them," he sighed as he holstered his weapon.

"Try the usual. Peaceful explorers, yadda, yadda, could you please stop destroying other people's property, yadda yadda, sorry we drugged you, hope it hasn't caused permanent damage, would you like some warm milk. Yadda."

"You know what yadda means in Unas, Jack?"

"Nope. Don't know, don't care. Get moving before they find the dart game."

Hands held well away from his body, Daniel walked slowly out into the fairgrounds.

"Should we move closer, sir?"

"Nah. We're fine here. We don't want to spook 'em." Jack watched Daniel walk, brow furrowed. "Is herbage even a word?"

"I really don't care, sir."

"Fair enough."

***

Walking carefully so that his heels hit the ground with the least amount of force and would therefore cause the least amount of brain damage, Daniel approached the two Unas. They hadn't noticed him yet but since they were intent on a tug of war with a stuffed – Deer? Moose? Jackalop?—animal, that wasn't surprising. Unas weren't generally fast on their feet but then Unas weren't generally flying high on enough caffeine to fuel the morning rush at Starbucks so he stopped a little further away than he would have under other circumstances.

They still hadn't noticed him.

He called out a greeting, hoping that their language hadn't drifted into a whole new dialect.

***

Wishing she'd picked up the dart gun instead of her P90, Sam took aim at the nearer of the two Unas. They were just kids and she hoped Daniel could arrange things so that she didn't have to pull the trigger.

"I can't hear what he's saying," the colonel protested as Daniel stopped and spread his hands.

She sighed. "Does it matter, sir? You can't understand him anyway."

"You're a little snippy when you're hungover, Carter."

"You say that every time it happens, sir. Daniel doesn't look so good..."

"Glanced in a mirror this morning?"

She wanted to shoot him the kind of withering glance that would cause him to doubt his manhood for the next six or seven months but she doubted she'd regained enough muscle control in her face.

***

They were watching him now, eyes narrowed, each holding half of the disputed toy, the air between them full of settling stuffing. Daniel knew that what he said next would crucial. He opened his mouth.

And whimpered.

The staff weapon blast that had convinced Jack to leave him propped by the door of Klorel's control room hadn't hurt this much. Hell, the staff weapon blast Ra had killed him with hadn't hurt this much.

Acid in an open wound.

Acid eating through the soft, unprotected tissue of his esophagus.

Acid eating him away from the inside out.

Between one heart beat and the next his stomach had distended to press against his shirt. He clutched at his chest and pulled the fabric away – the pressure of Jack's t-shirt against his skin almost more than he could bear.

A sudden noise forced him to focus through watering eyes. The Unas were standing no more than an arm's length away, shifting their weight from foot to foot. Up close, one of them had something that looked like bright pink cotton candy wrapped around his tusks and both of them had stomachs distended to rival Daniel's. They'd probably eaten every leftover piece of junk food they could find on the fairgrounds.

One of them growled out a question but Daniel lost most of the actual words in the heavy panting he was having to do to keep from screaming in pain.

***

"They are awfully close, O'Neill."

"This is Daniel you're talking about Teal'c. Everyone wants to get close to him. Give him a chance."

***

God, the pressure. He couldn't stand the pressure. It was just too...

All at once the pain peaked and the pressure changed slightly. A familiar change. A familiar pressure. Daniel barely managed to get one hand to his glasses before he jack-knifed forward and everything left in his stomach ripped past damaged tissue and exploded out of his mouth. And nose. And again.

Dimly, he heard an Unas roar. No, not roar. Hurl. And not an Unas. Both Unas.

***

"Looks like they've found some common ground," Jack muttered heading for Daniel. "Carter, get the dart guns from the room. Teal'c, you're with me."

"What do you plan to do, O'Neill?"

He had no idea. Fortunately, right at that moment, a small, round, elderly woman trotted out from behind one of the exhibition barns also heading for Daniel and the two Unas. "I plan on keep the civilians out of danger."

"She is much closer than we are."

"Yes, she is."

"She will be there first."

"You're not helping, Teal'c." He raised his voice, ignoring the way it made his head pound because that was why he got the big bucks. "Ma'am! Return to your hiding place!"

"She is ignoring you."

"Really not helping."

***

It hurt to breathe because breathing moved his chest and movement sent jagged flashes of pain out from under his sternum – it was like being stabbed over and over with a serrated blade wielded with more force than precision. Another, less painful time, he'd be bothered that he could make that kind of comparison. And when had he fallen to his knees?

"Daniel?"

The voice sounded vaguely familiar. He managed to get his head around enough to see Cali's grandmother peering at him with concern. "Go..." A moment of panting. "...back."

"Don’t be ridiculous. Do you have the bottle I gave you yesterday?"

The bottle? Right. The bottle with the stomach medicine. "Drank it."

Her eyes widened. "All of it? I'm amazed you were able to stand let alone walk all the way out here to be sick. Well..." She rummaged about in voluminous skirts. "...fortunately, I have more."

He had to warn her. Somehow, he drew in enough breath for a full sentence. "Not kids in Orlas masks!"

"Of course they aren't. Drink up. Two mouthfuls, no more."

Warm glass against his lips. A familiar taste. He could feel the liquid slid down his throat, move toward his stomach leaving blessed, miraculous lines of relief behind.

"Jesus, Daniel!"

Another voice. Also one he recognized. He cranked his head around in the other direction and nearly snickered at the halo effect the sunlight was creating. The man was no saint. "Jack."

"This isn't just a hangover is it? This is a stomach... attack... thing."

"Yes." Daniel straightened carefully but local medicine seemed to have dealt with the worse of the pain. In comparison to how he felt mere moments early, feeling like he had a red hot coal tucked in under the bottom edge of his sternum was nothing much. "Yes, this is a stomach thing." His stomach lurched at the smell of sun-warmed vomit. "And it is also a hangover thing. It's two, two, two things in..."

"Daniel."

"Sorry." He squinted past Jack at Teal'c. "Where's Sam?"

"I sent her for the dart gun."

"Oh shit! The Unas." To his surprise, he heard Jack laugh as he whirled around to deal with the two teenagers...

...only to find they were being dealt with.

"That's it. Two swallows only. Poor thing, come down out of the mountains at long last and what happens? You eat something that disagrees with you." Carli's grandmother was supporting one of the young Unas' shoulders as he drank from the magic bottle. The other was sitting back on his heels, mirroring Daniel's position, both hands clasped over his stomach, his expression showing relief and embarrassment and trepidation equally mixed.

A familiar hand thrust itself into Daniel's field of vision. He grabbed it and allowed Jack to pull him to his feet. "I need to let them know they're amongst friends."

Jack snickered and his grip tightened just for a moment before he let go. "I think grandma's got it under control."

"Sir! I've got the dart..."

"Not needed, Carter!" Jack snapped as both Unas scrambled backwards.

Daniel stepped forward and began a comforting monologue. Or as comforting as possible given the aggressive constants of the language but it wasn't until a sudden pulse of resurgent pain nearly drove him back to his knees that the crisis was averted. Misery truly did love company.

Behind the high pitched buzz of Carli's grandmother's scolding, he heard Jack sigh.

"Just can't understand why we're not allowed to do the diplomatic thing anymore..."

***

"And shortly after that, SG-9 showed up and our government started talking with their government and yadda." Jack flashed General Hammond his best get-out-of-jail-free smile. "Did you know that yadda means something rude in Unas?"

The general sighed. "No, Colonel, I did not. Nor do I care."

"Of course not." He cleared his throat while editing a few more details out of his preliminary mission report. "The boys of SG-9 were more than a little impressed that Daniel managed to open a dialogue between historical enemies by instigating a mutual tossing of cookies. Apparently there aren't many cultures who consider vomiting an act of friendship."

The silence extended just long enough to be a warning. "I assume Dr. Jackson will be needed to help negotiate the peace treaty when these teenage Unas bring their leaders out of the mountains?"

"Yes, sir." Warning received and understood.

"He'll have recovered by then?"

"Will it matter, sir? I mean, to Daniel?"

"No." The general tapped a finger against the edge of the table and visibly came to a decision. "It's becoming clear that we need to expand our Unas cultural studies department."

"Couldn't hurt, sir." Whether Daniel would be willing to let it go, well, that would be another matter entirely.

"And Major Carter?"

"Not really interested in Unas culture."

"Colonel..."

"Sorry." Jack scrubbed at both eyes with heels of his hands. "Little punchy. Not a lot of sleep last night. Rigors of field work; you know how it is."

"Yes." Had the general's tone been any drier, it would have ignited. "And I'm sure the rigor of field work explains why your shirt has no buttons."

Jack pulled his button free shirt closed over Daniel's t-shirt and slouched a little lower in his chair. "Major Carter and Teal'c stayed behind to talk the diplomacy boys through the whole solar radiation shielding phenomenon. Not," he acknowledged, "that Teal'c will be doing much talking." A vague memory of Teal'c's mouth forming the word "Dude." rose out of alcohol shrouded depths and was hurriedly reburied. "Although Teal'c did say something about investigating herbal remedies."

"Teal'c?"

"Apparently he has hidden depths. Anyway, if the cloaking effect covers the entire planet, Major Carter feels this might be the perfect place for us to put a beta site. There's plenty of room; she figures that Carli's people are using at most a quarter of the available planetary real estate."

"Carli's people? That would be the Polansians?"

"They'll always be Carli's people to me." That got the first small smile since he'd stumbled unshaven and stinking through the gate, half-supporting Daniel's not inconsiderable weight. Jack relaxed a little. "Carter was talking about setting up a full field lab to test the effect."

"Was she?"

"You know, Carter, sir. She's all for scientific testing." Jack banished the vision of a pink plastic butterfly strapped to the front of Carter's BDU's. "With your permission, of course, sir."

One eyebrow rose. "Of course. And with the permission of the Polansians."

"They seem like fairly agreeable people."

"Our two peebles!"

"Also, the Goa'uld tend to use the Unas in their mines so there's a chance of naquada in the mountains. Now that the Unas and Carli's people are about to start talking..." Jack spread his hands and let the sentence trail off into possibilities.

"Potential allies, a solar powered cloaking device, and a possible naquada mine." Hammond nodded slowly. "I look forward to reading your full report but I think I can safely say, well done, Colonel."

"Thank you, sir."

"However..."

"However..." Jack figured that was a qualifier he'd better deal with himself. "... unorthodox our methods, SG-1 comes through. As usual."

"And I'd be happier about that," the general snorted, "had Dr. Jackson not been taken immediately to the infirmary."

"That's pretty much as usual sir."

***

Jack could hear Janet the moment he opened the infirmary door.

"...tell you, Daniel! I can't believe you were so incredibly irresponsible..."

Taking one step back out into the hall, he let the door swing closed.

"Been there, done that, got the Unas puke on my boots." He pivoted on one heel and headed back up the hall toward the mess and the biggest cup of coffee he could get his hands on. Daniel had his full and complete sympathy both for the pain he'd gone through already that morning and for what ol' Doc Fraser was about to put him through but this was where it had all started...

...which made it as good a place as any for it to end.