Summary: Memorial Day with Jack O'Neill.
Slight Crossover. With all the talk on CrossGate, I’ve got the A-Team
on the brain.
Rating: for some insinuated under-age drinking.
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. I own none of the
characters and gain no money for their use.
Distribution: CrossGate, Mini!Jack, Wormhole Crossing, TtH.
Spoilers: Fragile Balance and Heroes II
“Hey Danny-boy,” Jack had said. “How ‘bout you come up to my cabin for
Daniel looked around the cabin basement in awe and reverence. It was
the first time Jack had let him down here. He knew that Jack had lost
friends over the years, but this . . . this was too much. Jack had said
that he had some alcohol that needed drinking. Daniel had known that
Memorial Day would be hard on a career soldier.
But he had never added the truths together to get this.
Every kind of drink imaginable lined the walls of the basement, cheap
beers, foreign beers, wines and a surprising number of vodkas. Each
bottle had a name written on it, no date, no rank. Daniel could guess
that the alcohol was lined up in chronological order. The archeologist
didn’t recognize any of the names on the north and east walls, but he
remembered most of the names, and the faces that accompanied them, that
graced the south wall and following.
Henry Boyd was represented there, next to Frank Cromwell. Those two
bottles of beer were empty. They had been carefully rinsed out and
placed back onto the shelf. Daniel hoped that Jack had forgiven himself for
their deaths. Daniel thought he had. Daniel browsed the names.
Martouf-Lantesh was there to Daniel’s great surprise, represented by a
plain, dark, bottle with no commercial label. The shape of the bottle was
different, but Daniel was sure that he had seen it before. It took a
minute and he choked when realization kicked in. Daniel had seen it
How the hell had Jack snuck a bottle of that out of the SGC? It had
been a local hooch. Martouf had mentioned that if he and Lantesh were to
drink anything alcoholic, that hooch would be it. Jack had eased off
Martouf slightly after that. It was as if anyone who had a favorite
drink was partly human. The bottle was still full.
Janet Fraiser was there, symbolized with a bottle of expensive red
wine, her favorite kind. Daniel took a moment to mourn a friend. That
bottle was full too.
Daniel read some of the earlier names, from before Jack’s time in the
SGC. He knew that these were more than soldiers who had died, these
were –for the most part- drinking buddies. Jack knew each one well enough
to buy that person’s favorite drink. Jack had painstakingly written
the person’s native name in their own language. German, Russian, Cuban,
Arabic; it didn’t matter. Even a couple were written in a script that
Daniel couldn’t identify. At first Daniel wondered if Jack had written
them incorrectly but he quickly discarded the idea. Jack wouldn’t
screw up something like this. Daniel blinked and looked back at Martouf’s
bottle. Yep, Jack had written it in Go’uald and Daniel had translated
it without conscious thought. When had Jack learned to write anything
Daniel wondered at the possible security nightmare if anyone found
Jack’s secret memorial, but then shook his head. A person would have to
know something about Jack’s missions to understand the important meaning
in this basement.
Daniel read off a few more unfamiliar names. One grouping of four
different bottles made Daniel smile quietly. Bad Attitude Baracus? Face
Peck? Howlin’ Mad Murdock? Hannibal Smith? They sounded colorful.
Where had Jack met that team? Daniel wondered about who they might be
and then shook his head. Jack had their names down here because he
couldn’t tell anyone their real story.
The clomping of shoes on the stairs distracted Daniel. Jack soon came
into view. He had a brown paper bag in one arm and a Sharpe® marker in
the other hand.
“Look who I found in town,” Jack waved his free hand behind him.
Daniel stared in shock. Mini-Jack and Cassie Fraiser followed closely.
Both of the ‘teens’ smiled at Daniel weakly. Mini-Jack had three
different bottles of beer in his hand. Cassie had a bottle of cheap wine in
hers. Daniel watched as first Cassie and then Mini-Jack wrote a name
on the bottles and shelved it with the others. Daniel knew some of
those names too. Three of the four had joined the military right out of
high school last year and had died in the Middle East. Their families
were a central part of the Colorado Springs Memorial Day celebrations.
Then Jack took the marker away from them and started in on his bag of
alcohol. Daniel stepped closer and watched as name after name from the
SGC was written down. It had been a hard year for the SGC. They had
lost too many people. Mini-Jack and Cassie stood and watched in
respectful silence. Daniel observed but his too busy brain wondered how Jack
knew all their favorite drinks.
Jack wrote a name on the last bottle of beer and shelved it. He put
the marker in his pocket and folded up the brown paper page neatly. He
didn’t sigh and he didn’t cry.
“Anything you two want to drink?” he asked Mini-Jack and Cassie.
Cassie went straight for where her mother’s wine was stored. “Jack, I
think it’s about time.”
Jack nodded. Mini-Jack headed toward the old alcohols. He browsed for
a bit and came back with two. One a beer and the other a vodka. He
showed them to Jack who nodded with approval. The trio started for the
“Coming Daniel?” Jack and Mini-Jack chorused.
Daniel chuckled softly. “Yeah, I’m right behind you.” He felt . . .
privileged to be invited to this very private memorial to those who had
To those who served, to those who sacrificed. To friends who are out
there now and to my baby brother who ships out much too soon. God