A/N: I own nothing. Everyone you recognize belongs to someone else. Quotes from the Stargate SG1, season 2 episode “1969” were found on twiztv.com. Corrections and this story as a whole are due to my awesome beta DreamofStories, who reminded me that I haven’t touched this series in much too long.
BTW, sorry about that. My mom came for a visit, and I was too excited to do anything the entire time she was here. Ok, on with the fic. Colorado Springs, CO – August 1969
Robert Giles grumbled to himself as he walked on the side of the road. His car had run out of gas nearly two miles back, and he had seen no one on the road from that time on. He had spent the past twenty minutes promising to exercise more, take regular walks, and eat healthy if only someone would drive by and pick him up. He tugged at the orange and yellow bandana wrapped around his head. Of all the times to lose a bet to Buffy, it had to be when he was traveling, and in the middle of a fashion craze. He had sworn to wear an outfit that was currently in fashion in America if he lost the bet. Most of the outfit wasn’t bad, but the bandana… He sighed.
He stopped walking when he heard the sound of an engine coming around the corner. He was excited until he saw that it was a military vehicle, and he jumped into the bushes to avoid being run over. Issues with the Initiative and various branches of the government over the years in his old life still left a sour taste in his mouth.
He watched from behind a bush as a tire blew on the van. Three men got out of the cab; one bent to check the tire. A second man pulled out his gun and turned to the third officer.
“I’ll keep an eye on them. You help the driver,” he ordered. The third man nodded and moved to help the driver. The man with the gun walked to the back of the van and opened the door. Giles had a good view into the van from his position, and was shocked to see three men and a woman. The youngest man had shaggy brown hair and glasses, and for a reason Giles didn’t bother to dwell on, reminded him of Andrew. The second man was extremely large and had a gold symbol on his forehead. The woman had short blonde hair, and was very obviously military.
The final man was just beginning to go grey, and had an attitude that reminded Giles of Xander. His first words to the officer were, “Flat tire?”
Giles was as surprised as the quartet in the van when the officer announced that he had arranged it. The officer was all business as he said “Before I can even think of doing what's asked in the note, I need to know who you are and who gave it to you.”
The woman’s eyes widened as she realized something. “Oh my God. My name is Samantha Carter… and you
gave me the note, sir.” With that revelation, three of the men turned to stare at her. The large man seemed unaffected. The woman turned to the graying man. “Sir, before we left, General Hammond gave me a note and told me to keep it in my vest pocket until I got to the other side.”
“It’s addressed to me. In my handwriting,” the officer told her.
“What’s it say?” the man asked.
The man answered sarcastically, “’Help them’. And seeing as helping you will undoubtedly lead to court-martial, I'd like to know why I would do that.”
“Because it’s your idea,” the woman responded.
“Albeit one you won’t have for thirty years,” the graying man added.
“What?” the officer asked. Giles silently echoed the sentiment. He continued to listen as the group proved to the officer – Hammond – that they were from the future. Then they used a strange gun to knock out Hammond’s comrades and the men driving a second truck. Hammond gave them some money, was thanked, and then shot with the same gun.
The group then agreed to get off the road and find the interstate. As they left, the woman looked at Hammond in discomfort. She followed the men out of sight, and only then did Giles feel safe enough to leave his hiding place. He checked the pulses of each man, jumping when the first one who was shot groaned. He moved them closer to the edge of the road, between the two vehicles, then started walking again. He knew they would be fine, and he didn’t want to be accused of having anything to do with that mess.
It was nearly a week later when Giles bumped into Hammond at the grocery store. The man didn’t seem to be suffering from any lasting effects of being shot. Hammond did, however, raise an eyebrow at the four sets of candy, toys, and books in his shopping cart. Giles smiled at him.
“I’m a Big Brother to three girls and a boy. If I didn’t bring them something after a week-long trip, I would never be forgiven,” he explained. Hammond nodded and continued shopping.
Neither man was aware of how closely their lives would soon be entwined.