The truth is... well, not out there
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Title: The Truth is… well, not out there.
Author: [info]venom69 & [info]jo_siris
Category: Humor. Uh… Angst?
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, never will. Promise to put them back in the state I found them. Song isn’t mine either.
Author’s notes: Holy crap… *hides in shame*
Dedication: For Jo.
Copyright to Venom & Jo, 2005


Most people I know, think that I’m crazy


“You can’t be serious Sir!”

He was.

“I am.”

“This is an outrage!”

Isn’t everything?

“I know Jack,” Hamond placated. “But you just have to accept it!”

“It’s not true! Tell me it’s not true!” Jack was a big Lion King fan.

It was true.

“It is true Jack, I’m sorry.”

“But it’s not possible sir! I know what I know and I is what I is!”

Hammond shook his head sadly. “Jack, I know it’s hard, but sometimes we have to hear things we don’t want to hear. You need to live with this.”

“You can’t prove it.”

“I can.”

“Go on.”


“I dare ya!”


“I double dare ya! With a nekkid Janet on top!”

Author’s Sidetrack: Nekkid!Janet…mmm….

“Well, look at the inconsistencies in your ‘lives’ over the last seven years.”


"Why is it that the Jaffa, who are supposedly super trained, can't shoot for shit?"

“It’s possible that there are climate conditions impacting their ability to aim properly, GeneralGeorgeSHammond.” Teal’c informed them, suddenly entering the conversation. “It is also possible that they had been on the piss the previous night and thus, were severely hung-over.”

Jack knew how that felt.

George nodded, conceding the point. “Ok, when is Major Carter’s birthday, because, when the entity took over her body, her file showed it as December yet when Orlin was here, he gave her a birthstone. Emerald is for May.”

“I was conceived in May and born in December sir, we celebrate both.” Sam explained, walking towards the group.

“How is it the sarcophagus can mend clothes then?”

Daniel stepped up the stairs to the briefing room (as you do) and pulled his glasses from his head. He didn’t need them anyway, they were just there for show. “Well, sir, its alien technology. Life is more interesting when we don’t understand how it works. Even though Sam and I spend days at a time trying to figure them out.”

“Then why, after all the times you’ve been in one, do you still need glasses?”

“I’m sticking with the alien technology Defence.” Daniel raised his hand in surrender.

Hamond sighed. These people were stubborn. “Why then, when you get punched do you never have bruises?”

“Because cracked ribs and the like are much more fun.” Jack’s sarcasm didn’t help the situation.

“Why has Teal’c stopped wearing eye-shadow?”

“I was informed by Major Davis who heard it from Sergeant Siler that got it from Chevron!Guy who overheard some of the Air Force men saying that they thought I looked like a Gender Illusionist with the make-up. I stopped wearing it for that purpose.”

“Plus you kept stealing mine.”

Teal'c bowed apologetically at Daniel.

“When you went on that not-quite-approved mission to destroy Apofises new ship, why did Sam and Jack go off alone down that corridor when they had already set the C4 and had the Naquadah?”

“Because we had to have the moment, sir. We needed to make it look realistic. Not just a desperate ply to keep all the base shippers interested and make the bash slashers commit suicide.” Jack’s brow furrowed. “How do you know about that anyway?”

“I read the script.” He grinned impishly. Well, as impishly as a two-star General could. “Why is it Teal’c can only sense a Goa’uld/Naquadah sometimes?”

Teal’c growled. Like a dog. But bigger. “Do you question why Spiderman’s Spider-sense only works sometimes?”

That man had to stop watching Nickelodeon. “Fine. Why is it, that after so many years, the Goa’uld have never upgraded their armor to deflect bullets?”

“Because then they might actually have a chance at beating us.”

“Why is it that everyone seems to want Daniel?”

Jack scoffed. “Sir? Have you *looked* at the boy lately?”

He had a point there. “Well, why does everyone seem to want Sam?”

Jack scoffed harder. (Scoffing sounds kinda painful to me.) “Gorge, seriously. You shouldn’t have to ask!”

“When we found you and Sam with the second Stargate in Antarctica, when you had such serious injuries, yet you recovered the next week???”

“Fast healer.”

“When we had the… incident, with the Mini!Jack clone. He only got to 15, but he was still your clone Jack, why didn’t you recognize him?”

“Bad memory?”

“For that matter, how old *are* you? No one seems to know.”

“That’s classified sir.”

“Daniel, when you were engaged to Shyla, why was it necessary to wear a dress?”

“Matched my eye-shadow sir.”

Hammond could see the logic there. “Have you considered having your eye-brows waxed? You look like a walking Nike ad.”

“Oh, I know. You can’t imagine how much they pay me, I mean with all the advertising I do! Man, you should *see* how cool the Ancients look now. Oma has this thing for the Nike women’s range. I think she’s gonna try and get a contract with them. And Anewbus? Well, he went for the Nike ‘swoosh’ eyebrows too, but it didn’t quite work out. That’s the real reason he has the mask.”

“Right.” Hammy eyed him warily. “Where’s Cassandra? Why is she only mentioned thrice in the last seven years? And, hey, she didn’t even get one line in when Janet died!”

“She was too emotional.” Sam explained.

“Ok.” Gorgy understood. He had cried for week when his wuntwuewuv died. “Now, about your hair. There are strict regulations on how your hair should be, why do you keep growing it?”

“She does it for me sir. You see, I have this whole fantasy about Sam on her knees, my fingers in her hair while she… ties my shoes.” Jack coughed. “Sir.”

“Strangely enough, I would believe that.” Ham-mond smile shippily. “Ok, why, when you went back to 1969,”

“Good year.”

“Yes Jack. Anyway, when you went back then, why did I have brown eyes? My eyes are blue.”

“I understand that colored contacts were all the rage back then.”

Well, that was true. “Why is it that whenever the Prometheus is launched, no one ever sees or hears it? We don’t have cloaking technology yet, we’re not Klingon!”

“Well, sir,” Jack began, talking slowly as it was clear that Hammyboy was loosing his mind along with his hair. “Sam generally stands just outside of the launch doors and lifts her top. Anyone watching the area is just so fascinated with her boobs, that no one noticed the mother of a ship rising behind her.”

She did have impressive mammary glands, that was for sure. “How many times have you all died?”

EssGeeWun turned and faced each other and formed the EssGeeWun circle of love to confer.

Sam counted. “I think I’m up to four times now.”

Jack winked at her. Then eyed her up and down and nodded smugly. “Beat ya. I’m on 6.”

Teal'c frowned. “I am afraid that I suck ass. I have only achieved death three times now.”

Daniel grinned. “I think I’m into double digits now.”

Jack turned back to BoyGeorge “Several sir.”

“Exactly. No one is that lucky. And Daniel?”

“Yes sir?”

“We’re all so used to it with you that no one cares when you die anymore. We all know you’ll be back. In fact, I don’t even know why we bother to send out rescue parties for you lot anymore. You always come back without help anyway. Waste of money, I tell ya.” He shook his head in disgust.

“Sir!” The four members (snort!) chorused.

“Why don’t the Brits have their own EssGee team? Or the Aussies? The bloody Russians do!” Hammy-Wammy knew that the Aussies hadn’t actually been at the disclosure conference, but he felt, as one of the Authors was an Aussie, that they deserved a mention.

Because Ky has been drinking coffee, and if she doesn’t get what she wants… *eyes the potential of a Jack/Pete/Jacob threesome and look threateningly at Georgeo*

“Well, sir. The Aussie are busy with their Kangaroos, and the Brits?” Sam snorted. “Well, they’re all in uproar over Charles and Camila’s upcoming wedding.”

“I have heard through the grapevine that they shall be playing the Storm-Trooper theme as she descends down the aisle.” Teal’c told them seriously.

Everyone looked at him.

“Ok, here’s a simple one for you: Why the hell does everyone speak Inglesh? Or a dialect of some language that Daniel conveniently understands?”

“Well, sir, you see…”

General G indahouse could tell that Denial was about to launch into a great archeological theory and we all know that Daniel’s mouth is only good for one thing.


Competing in size with his eye-brows, naturally.

What did you think I meant?

Mind. Gutter. Out.

Dirty People.

So, needless to say, he cut him off at the knees (Though not literally. Damnit). “Doctor Jackson, surely you can appreciate the fact that after thousands of years on a different planet, their language would develop into something that even you cant understand? Their cultures have. While they may still keep some of the tendencies of the ancient peeps from Earth, they have evolved, so why not their language too? Explain that! Go on! Ha!”

You can almost hear the unspoken ‘Nar nar nar-nar nar’ can’t you?

Heh. Yeah, me too.

Daniel was pretty much speechless. “Well, sir, I, uh, can’t.”

“people, you need to face the fact; You are not real. You’re actors, you work on a teevee show that airs every Thursday in Australia!” *cough*whenchannel7iscooperating*cough*

“What? We’re not even good enough to air in other countries? We get stuck with some backwater little island?”

“Uh, sir?”

“Yes Sammypoo?”

“Australia is actually quite big.”

“Right. I know that.”

“Actually Jack, the teevee show, appropriately titled StareGat EssGeeWun, airs in a lot of countries. But, at the moment, it’s 2am in the land down under and Ky can’t be assed finding out the day you air in other places.”


“So we are not in fact real?”

“No Teal’c, you’re not, I’m sorry.”

“So I don’t have to continue to talk in this completely foolish manner?”


“And I don’t have to tell no more dumbass jaffar jokes?”

“Not unless you want to.”

“Thank god yo. That funky speech was runin’ my rep.”

“So… sir, what happens now?”

“Well Jack, hopefully you and Sam will have much monkey sex on the dock of your cabin, the world will be saved in some final and gut-wrenching battle, the show will end, and you’ll all go back to being forgotten.”

Sam looked at jack.

Jack looked at sam.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” They said in unison.

And thus is was written.


Pete nevah happened.

Denial did never again get nekkid (My eyes people! My eyes!).

Teal’c gave up on the stoopid talk.

Georgy Porgy pudding and Pie, kissed the presidant, made him cry and then was never seen nor heard from again.

There was one final and totally gut-wrenching battle. (I was on the edge of my seat the whole time. Seriously.)

Sam and Jack did sex on the dock.

And this author collapsed into bed.


El Ende.