Disclaimer: People other than me own these characters. I was not paid for this.

Spoilers: Stargate SG-1 episode 1969.

Rating: PG-13 (for implied sexual situations)

Warnings: This story contains implied sexual situations and historical context chemical experimentation.

Author's Notes: Yep, the one I've been threatening to write since I saw 1969, and noticed the hippie chick was never named. <g>


The Circle of Life
by
Besterette

Besterette@aol.com

 

1969 The Campground:

The mismatched group sat around the campfire, the two hippie kids staring at the rest with wide-eyed wonder. Michael was shaking his head, shaggy blonde curls bouncing from side to side. "So the fight against the Establishment is everywhere, man? Even... out there?"

His girlfriend Sherry excused herself and went back into the van for a moment, returning with a flat tin, offering it shyly to the man next to her in the circle.

Jack frowned. "Ah, I don't think..." as Daniel swallowed half a brownie. "Never mind," he sighed, and reminded himself to have that talk with Daniel again, about touching glowing objects of alien origin, and putting strange things into his mouth. Ah well. The kid had missed out on the '60's the first time around. He was what, four years old right now and somewhere on the other side of the world? Daniel would be all right, he'd keep an eye on him. But Jack dozed off for a few minutes on his watch. No harm, no foul. The next morning they took their leave and made their way home, to their own time.


1989 Cairo:

"... and so the Bedouin says, 'I know but that's not my camel." Blair Sandburg grinned devilishly, and took another sip of his beer. Daniel Jackson just shook his head at his new friend and the oldest joke in anthropology, content to sit back and watch people pass by.

He watched one woman approach with interest, a willowy redhead of uncertain age, in an elegantly embroidered gown, not garish tourist-tripe, but native, tasteful, and expensive. To his surprise, her destination was not just their marketplace cafe, but their table. And Blair got to his feet and greeted the elegant lady as 'Mom'.

She declined a seat, and Blair continued, "I thought we were going to meet at your hotel?"

"Oh, we are, sweetie. I've just been doing some shopping and sightseeing, and spotted you..." She looked at Daniel inquiringly.

Daniel sat up a little straighter. Those eyes... there was something familiar about her...

"Oh, Daniel Jackson, fellow student of mankind, this is my Mom, Naomi Sandburg. Mom, this is Daniel."

He took her hand, and paused, as they looked into each others' eyes. Deja vu.

"Have we met before? On one of your other field work assignments?"

"I don't think so..." Daniel trailed off, and let go of her hand.

"Oh... maybe in another life. Always nice to meet friends of Blair's. I won't interrupt, sweetie, I'll see you at the hotel."

She melted into the crowds again, and the two friends returned to their discussion of academic gossip.


1996 Cascade:

"Sherman," Jim Ellison guessed.

"No," Blair repeated patiently.

"Seymour?" Ellison tried again.

"No. Can I have my mail, please?"

"Sunbeam!" Ellison surrendered the envelope. "I've met your mom. It's Sunbeam."

"Close," Blair admitted, looking at the mail addressed to Blair S. Sandburg, a little worried that the credit card company had the middle initial that he never used. If Jim and the guys at the station found out that his middle name was Starchild he'd never hear the end of it.


1999 Cheyenne Mountain:

SG1 stepped through the gate... into a room that looked like the embarkation room... minus one Chappa'ai and related equipment. And then they looked up.


1969 Campground:

Sherry couldn't sleep. Not even mellowing out with a laced brownie had helped. Learning that the four people they had given a ride to the coast were from another world was just... too heavy. Michael was snoring beside her, and she had rolled over onto her back to look up at the stars.

And every star a sun with it's own planets... how many alien girls might be lying awake, staring up into a night sky that contained Earth's sun, Sol, wondering the same thing. Whoa. Groovy!

She wasn't even the only one awake here on Earth. Daniel groaned softly, then wriggled out of his sleeping bag and wandered off into the trees. She frowned. Maybe he just had to y'know, go. Or maybe he was tripping, he'd had a brownie...

She silently slipped out of the blankets and followed him. He wandered not far from the campsite, then made a broken whimper. "Shau'ri? Shau'ri... where are you?" He sounded lost, and so sad.

Sherry went to him. "Here. I'm right here, Daniel."

"Shau'ri..." He sighed her name again, and kissed her. Her eyes widened, but then she melted into his arms. It was a very good kiss. She and Michael weren't exclusive, people didn't have to own each other like that anymore. So when Daniel tried to lower her down to the grass, she lay down with him. The sex was slow and sweet, and afterward they went back to camp.

The four travelers left them, to return to their home. Sherry and Michael went to their concert, then up to Canada so Michael wouldn't be sent to Viet Nam. Sherry got bored at the commune. She cut her waist-long brown hair short like the woman, Sam, she'd thought that was cool, after all, guys were growing their hair long. But somebody needed to carry on the fight, there were so many good causes. She returned to the states, and it was there she discovered she was pregnant. She began using her real name again, the name she'd been born with, Naomi. And she dyed her hair bright red.

Her little boy was born, a precious gift. So smart, so loving. When he was old enough to ask about his father, she had to confess that she wasn't sure herself. He had a thick head of curls... but his eyes were Daniel-blue. She could only tell him that she didn't know for sure herself. And smiled as he chose anthropology for his college major, exploring Earth and its peoples.


1989 Cairo:

Jenny Tregarth waited at the doors of the university bus. Fourteen of the sixteen expected students had appeared, now she was waiting for the last two. She leaned back and watched the crowds, playing a guessing game. Tour groups. Businessmen. Foreign correspondents. She fanned herself with a month-old copy of News Update, a crease marring the cover photo of a soldier rescued from the Peruvian jungles, and her eyes lit on a pair of young men. Brothers, she decided. Walking together, same build, the same eyes, something about the shape of the nose and the mouth, the way they moved. A definite resemblance... There were no brothers on the dig, so she looked away, and was surprised when they approached and proved to be her lagging students, the fairer one in glasses and a proper tropical weight suit, Daniel Jackson, UCLA, the darker boy flushed and sweating in cutoffs and a flannel shirt open over a tee, Blair Sandburg, Rainier.

They boarded, the boys stowing their luggage and taking the last free seat, striking up an acquaintance.

~ End ~


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