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[personal profile] unadrift
For the [livejournal.com profile] story_lottery challenge, round two; prompt "the full moon": my weirdest crossover yet.

Stargate SG-1/Discworld, gen, rated PG, 4500 words. Humor, bordering on crack, with a touch of angst.
Thank you, again, to [livejournal.com profile] snarkydame for the beta!





They are being warned about the full moon.

Well, not warned as such.

They are made aware, with carefully chosen words and a meaningful look, that a full moon is going to rise that night.

Werewolves, as is pointed out to them immediately after, are valued members of society, their presence enriching the eth-nic di-ver-si-ty of this mul-ti-cul-tu-ral city. The phrase is recited carefully with a blank expression, and everyone in earshot is nodding along earnestly and casting nervous glances at the official-looking clerk and the two palace guards who are following the conversation with interest from one table over.

"Thank you. We appreciate the information." Daniel gives the battered old soldier at the opposite side of the table a friendly smile. The man grabs the bowl of mysterious stew Daniel bought for him and vanishes into the crowd without so much as a nod of thanks.

"Well, that was unhelpful," Jack says.

"Werewolves." Sam looks around the bar, a little nervously. "Do you think maybe he was just--"

"What do you think, Carter?" Jack pointedly glances at a group of bearded dwarfs in chain mail who are gnawing at their servings of rat-on-a-stick, which were of course drowned generously in ketchup. Their impressive battle axes are leaning against the legs of their (low) table.

Daniel withstands the urge to blink disbelievingly at the image. He's seen enough dwarfs and vampires and gargoyles and assassins and wizards and dragons in the last few days to trust his eyes by now. At the bar, two huge trolls clonk their clay mugs together and down something steaming that smells distinctly acidic, even from across the room. It makes Daniel's eyes water.

"So," Jack says. "Lay the facts on the table. What do we know?"

"There have been no new developments, O'Neill," Teal'c points out. "Our understanding of the situation has not changed since the last time you asked this question."

Jack shoots him a look, then rubs his eyes. "I know. Humor me. Let's go over this again."

Daniel sighs. He doubts that another recapitulation of the events is going to make the difference. They don't really know how they got here. Worse, they don't even know where 'here' is, exactly.


* * *


"Huh," Sam said, leaning over the DHD, frowning at the symbols by flashlight. "The point of origin is the same as ours. We should be on Earth."

"Well," Jack said, looming over her shoulder. "We're not."

She poked and prodded at the DHD for a while while Daniel examined the walls and floor of the chamber they'd landed in, Teal'c stood guard by the giant hole in the wall behind the stargate, one foot out on the street and one foot inside, and Jack wandered around mostly aimlessly.

Finally, Carter called out, "Sorry, sir. I can't give an explanation."

From his position across the room Teal'c inquired, "Is it possible that a third stargate is hidden on Earth?"

For a moment, there was silence. Daniel looked up from a few scratches on the wall he'd been looking at.

"Nah," Jack dismissed the thought at the same time as Carter said, "We would know that by know."

Daniel opened his mouth to offer his opinion, but then he closed it, frowning at Sam. "How?"

"Seismic activity. We've been monitoring it since the day it helped us find the second gate. We cross referenced on gate activity, but nothing ever showed up."

"Well," Jack said, punching a symbol on the DHD at random. It obediently lit up. "On the bright side, the DHD is working."

"Not exactly bright. We can't dial Earth. Not with Earth as point of origin," Daniel pointed out. "Although-- we could try another address."

"We could," Sam said. "But I'd rather find out what it was that re-directed us here first. If the gate is malfunctioning we might not survive another trip."

"I wonder who screwed this up," Jack said with a look at the hole in the wall, which the stargate had created when the wormhole engaged. "Considering the clever way they installed the gate, I'd say they probably screwed up royally with the rest, too."

"We are in luck," Teal'c cut in.

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "In luck? What makes you say that?"

"Had the stargate been installed the other way around, our arrival would have disintegrated the dial home device."

Sam's eyes widened. "Right."

"Yep," Jack said, nodding seriously. "Very clever."

Daniel could only agree. No way had this been the work of the Ancients.

"They were sent by the gods! I saw the light coming from this room!" There were several approving noises and respectful gasps behind them. SG-1 turned around as one.

People were approaching the hole in the wall and staring, at the gate and at them. Daniel noted the natives were curious, and human. He’d also instantly learned they spoke English, which wasn't that much of a surprise anymore, not after encountering it on roughly 80 percent of the inhabited planets they'd visited. A part of him was relieved – probably the part that had become more a soldier than anything else with time - but the rest of him wished for a little challenge and wondered what use a linguist actually was for an SG-team.

"Um, hello," he said. And he called himself a linguist?

The peoples’ respectful silence was broken, as if Daniel had just given permission for hell to break lose.

"Who sent you? Was it Offler? Of course it was!" one roared.

"Offler? You've got to be kiddin' us!" another laughed. "It was the honored Joony, wasn't it?" The speaker got poked in the ribs.

"No, Anoia--" A shove.

"Lyra--" A push.

"No!"

"Hey!"

There were more names shouted, and the crowd went-- as crowds went. Wild.

SG-1 stared.

Jack made a face. "Look, it was the great and powerful Oz, okay?" he shouted.

It worked, which seemed to surprise the hell out of him. The movement in the crowd stopped instantly. "Who?" they asked, puzzled, in unison.

"Oz," Teal’c confirmed matter-of-factly and straightened. "Do you have any objections?"

Some of the locals ended up on the ground as everyone tried to take a step backwards at the same time.

Jack couldn’t refrain from grinning smugly. "Wonderful," he said. "Now, I believe the correct term is, 'Take me to your leader'."

Daniel rolled his eyes.

"Oz? The high priest of Om will not be pleased," a woman in the crowd mumbled, barely loud enough to be heard.

"Om?" Jack mouthed soundlessly to Daniel, who shrugged.

They stepped through the inactive gate and out into the street.


* * *


"So we're sure this is an alternate universe," Jack says. For the fifth time.

"I don't know about you, sir, but I'm as certain as I can get," she answers, her voice just this side of annoyed. "It's a working theory that isn't contradicted by the facts so far."

"It's fascinating," Daniel says, because it is. From almost every possible angle. The anthropological one especially.


* * *


Not fifteen minutes after their arrival and not twenty feet away from the gate, SG-1 was arrested for damaging public property. Two watchmen made their way towards them, one of them built like a tower, even taller than Teal'c. He had fiery red hair. The other one was-- considerably smaller. And bearded. And wearing earrings and a leather dress. The crowd parted for them easily.

Daniel stared, and missed almost the entire introduction. Captain Carrot (yes, that seemed to be his real name) was very firm about the arrest. Jack relented in the face of an agitated crowd and the prospect of meeting the commander of the city watch, who was the closest thing to a leader they were likely to get their hands on at the moment.

"And what city would that be?" Sam asked conversationally, as they were following Captain Carrot through narrow alleys and dirty streets.

"Ankh-Morpork, of course," the smaller watchman said, eyeing her curiously. "How can you not know where you are?"

Sam just smiled politely in answer.

Later, standing in front of the commander of the city watch, Daniel realized that this would prove to be the most intriguing world he had set foot on so far. Two words: dwarfs and trolls. And also--

"Just so we've got this straight. You're Commander Vimes," Jack said. "And that was Captain Carrot and Corporal Cheery Littlebottom before? And Sergeant Stronginthearm at the front desk? Not to forget Sergeant Detritus. Not easily overlooked, that one."

The commander's eyes narrowed. "Yes," he confirmed slowly, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Jack shared a look with his team. "Alright," he said after a moment. "Then let me introduce us. I’m Colonel Dense, this is our lovely Captain Proton, there we have Doctor Motormouth and… Hulk." He pointed at the four of them in turn.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow.

"I'll explain later," Sam whispered to him, barely able to keep a straight face.

Daniel frowned at Jack. "Excuse him. He's just kidding, Commander Vimes."

"You don't say," was the sarcastic retort, and suddenly Jack seemed to like the man immensely. Before Daniel could say anything else, Jack straightened.

"Colonel Jack O'Neill," he introduced himself properly. "O'Neill with two 'l's."

"I'm Samuel Vimes, commander of the Ankh-Morpork city watch," the commander said (again) and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Now that we’re done with the heart-warming introductions-- Colonel Jack O'Neill with two 'l's, why do you go round demolishing my city?"

"You mean that wall? That wasn't us."

"But it was us, O'Neill," Teal'c cut in.

"Thanks, Teal'c. Thank you for pointing that out."

Things kind of went downhill from there. Sam tried to explain, but the commander obviously was neither a man of science, nor particularly open-minded. In the end, he sent them off somewhere else, where they would presumably be able to understand Sam's language and maybe even talk back accordingly.

Three watchmen were assigned to keep an eye on them. While the idea of being a not-quite prisoner wasn't appealing, Daniel had to admit the 'Unseen University' sounded interesting, as destinations went.


* * *


"It's the naquadah," Sam says and pushes her mug away with a disgusted expression. "Its presence has to be the reason this world is so different from ours."

Different. That's not the word Daniel would have chosen. This world is a disc, and Sam is about as excited about that as she was when she realized that naquadah is lying around everywhere in large amounts.

Sometimes Daniel thinks she really needs to straighten out her priorities.


* * *


"I don't believe this," Sam said and crouched down in the middle of the street, picking up a rock and examining it closely. She stood and held it out to the watchman closest to her. It was Sergeant Colon. "What do you call this?"

His eyes darted from the naquadah on her outstretched palm to her face and back.

"The name?" she tried again and received another blank stare in return. Sam was about ready to give up when Sergeant Colon spoke very, very slowly. "Usually," he said, "we call it a rock."

Her mouth worked soundlessly for a few seconds, and Jack sniggered behind her back. "Well, obviously," she said. "But what do you call this kind of rock?"

Colon considered this for a moment. "Small?" he offered at last.

This time Jack laughed out loud. Daniel was extremely tempted to join in, despite the payback he was going to receive from Sam.


* * *


"I mean, it's literally everywhere," Sam says, still far too excited about the whole thing. "I've never seen anything like this."

Jack humors her, putting on his I'm-pretending-to-listen-with-interest face, and shovels spoon after spoon of stew into his mouth.

Teal'c raises a suspicious eyebrow at the bowl, but he does listen to Sam intently. "Indeed, it is most intriguing," he says. "The Jaffa go to great efforts to mine naquadah and refine it to weapon's grade."

And on this world the naquadah is in the cobblestones, the buildings, the bridges over the viscously-challenged river, and in the pebbles rolling around on top of it.

No wonder their alchemist's guild always leaves such big crater.


* * *


"Did you hear that? Was that an explosion?" Daniel said, alarmed. Smoke was rising about a hundred meters away over the rooftops of the city.

"It was the alchemist's guild. So?" Sergeant Angua answered, shrugging.

Daniel stared at her, because alchemists?

With a hand automatically reaching for the P-90 that wasn't there, Jack asked, "That happen often, I take it?"

"Once or twice a month."

Jack relaxed slightly, much to Daniels relief. They really didn't need to get into any more trouble. "Nobody gets the, um, alchemists to be careful?" he asked. "Takes them up on charges, punishes them?"

Angua shrugged again. "It’s not like the person who screwed up would be in a shape to face the consequences. Usually he'd be in no shape whatsoever anymore."

"Oh," Daniel said and swallowed. "That’s-- not nice."

"No, it's not," she said, and that was the end of the conversation. It turned out Angua wasn't all that chatty a person.


* * *


"I don't think the wizards can help us," Sam says. "They're--"

"Still scaring the living daylights out of you?" Jack finishes.

"That's not the point." She glares at him. "But yes. They do."

"Understandably so," Teal'c supports her. "The naquadah in their blood might not originate from the presence of a Goa'uld symbiote, but it is hard to ignore the instinctual reaction to the sensation."

"It's alright. We understand," Daniel says and kicks Jack in the shin under the table. "So, the fact that their bodies are enriched with naquadah, is that what gives these wizards their magic?"

"I don't like the term 'magic'," Sam says. "But that would be my guess, yes."

"I have not sensed the alleged presence of a Goa'uld in anyone other than the wizards," Teal'c says, which, in short, means, 'Yes, probably'. Sam takes hold of her mug before she remembers that the beer tastes truly disgusting and lets go of it again. "Anyway. I meant to say, they're--" She searches for appropriate words, then gives up, frustrated. "They interfaced a quantum mirror with a stargate! It doesn't get any more reckless than that!"

"Or stupid. Or insane," Jack agrees.

"They're-- peculiar," Daniel says. It's the most positive thing he can say about the bunch of quirky old men that greeted them at Unseen University.


* * *


The Unseen University was bigger on the inside. Literally. Daniel was not big on geometry, but after passing four junctions and crossing five corridors, the place was already giving him a headache. He didn't want to imagine what it did to poor Sam. And after the initial Goa'uld fright, too. None of the wizards they met turned out to be possessed by a Goa'uld, after all, even though both Teal'c and Sam would have sworn that they were.

The team was greeted in the auditorium by a group of living clichés, complete with long robes, long white beards and floppy pointy hats. Judging by the haunted look in Sam's eyes and Teal'c's rigid stance, the Goa'uldish sensation was still very much present.

But on Jack's signal, after the obligatory introductions, Sam pulled herself together and explained in a steady voice, "We came through the stargate."

The statement was met with impolite confusion.

"Never heard of it," Chancellor Ridcully said and then bellowed, "Stibbons?"

A young wizard with thick glasses and a clipboard, but with no pointy hat, stepped forward.

"It's the big round stone thing in your cellar," Jack added. "In the chamber with the brand new scenic view."

"It's a portal to other worlds," Daniel jumped in. "Which is where we came from: another world."

"I believe they are talking about the Circle of Djelibeybi," Stibbons translated.

"What? Oh, that old thing." Ridcully waved his hand dismissively. "A portal? It's a ring made of stone. Stone tends to do little else than lie around and catch moss."

Stibbons cleared his throat. "Might I point out that Dean Hardly Drowsy disappeared during his extensive studies of the object. He hasn't been seen since."

"Was he the one who left his shoes?"

"Right in front of the Circle, if I remember correctly," Stibbons confirmed.

"He couldn't have gotten far without them," Ridcully said thoughtfully.

Daniel exchanged a look with Jack. Neither of them said anything.

"There is a possibility that this artifact really does provide the means to go to-- places," Stibbons explained with practiced patience. "Certain thaumaturgic phenomena can enable a person to travel-- distances. If you want to get theoretical about it--"

"I certainly don’t," Ridcully cut in.

"Thank you," Jack said. "Me neither." He slapped Ridcully companionably on the back – a slap that would have sent any other man half across the room. Ridcully only shot him an irritated look.

Sam and Ponder shared a sympathetic half-smile.

There was movement in the group of wizards who had been hiding behind Ridcully. One of them elbowed his way through, eyed Daniel up and down and stopped in front of Sam.

"Elves," he burst out, a dreamy expression on his face. "The eyes! Oh, the eyes!"

A number of wizards murmured in agreement.

"Elves," the bursar sighed again, completely blissed-out.

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Anyone got frog pills on them?" Ridcully’s voice boomed through the chamber.

Daniel didn't even want to know.


* * *


"They're nuts," Jack sums up. Daniel doesn't disagree.

"Our best shot is to get back to the stargate on our own," Sam says. "Given a little time, I can probably figure out how to get us back." She hesitates.

"I'm sensing a 'but' there," Jack says. "Spit it out, Carter."

She makes a face. "I'm going to have to activate the quantum mirror."

That is never a good thing. Daniel hates quantum mirrors. Okay, so one of these things once prevented the destruction of Earth, but that is beside the point. Hardly any good ever comes out of quantum mirrors-- Wait a minute. "How are you going to activate it without the remote control?"

"I hadn't gotten that far yet," she says apologetically, but with determination. "I'll think of something."

"Or you could just use this." Jack digs through his pockets and throws the object in question onto the table. "I had a feeling we might be needing this at some point."

"Sir," Sam exclaims, delighted, and immediately grabs the remote control and examines it.

Daniel leans forward. "Where did you get that?"

"Oh, you know." Jack gestured vaguely. "I happened to stumble across it in that dusty lab. The one with the shoes?"

"How fortunate for us," Daniel says with the tiniest hint of sarcasm, then he tilts his head. "I wonder why no one ever put them away."

"The shoes? Best not to think about that," Jack says, and that's probably good advice.

Best not to think about a lot of things, actually.

If Daniel is completely honest with himself, he has to admit that this place is freaking him out. Big time. He'd never say so out loud. Anthropologically speaking, he should be intrigued and excited and happy to be here for an extended period of time. Because that's what it's going to take Sam to figure this out – an extended period of time. And he is happy to be here. But he is also freakishly freaked out.

He wants out of this city. Better yet, off of this disc. This disc! It's true. They've seen pictures. The wizards showed them pictures of four elephants on the back of a turtle, and, truthfully, Daniel still isn't quite convinced they're not fakes.

This world is a disc, but when Daniel looks up at the sky, the moon looks exactly the same. Weirdly, this is the most unsettling thing yet.

And the people here-- The people here are, in technical terms, completely bonkers.


* * *


On their second day, just after they'd gotten their weapons and their freedom back, a man approached Jack and Daniel in the middle of a busy street. He had an oval shape painted on his forehead, and a poorly designed and handcrafted cap was resting on his head. "Honored prophets," he said and bowed.

"What?" Jack said. "You talking to us?"

"I am Fresko, high priest of the Hallowed Church of Oz." He bowed again. "I wish to speak with you about our god's commandments."

Daniel stared.

"Commandments," Jack repeated, sounding as dumbfounded as Daniel felt.

"The followers of the Hallowed Church of Oz are devoted and faithful, but still small in numbers. We wish to spread the word."

"But so far you have no word to spread?" Jack guessed.

"Yes." Fresko inclined his head at them. "Even the small gods provide commandments. The famous religions have pages and pages of them written down. If our god wishes for us to spread--"

"Wait a minute." Jack raised his hand. "Let me get this straight. You created yourselves a church, and now you want commandments?"

Fresko looked puzzled. "Of course. What other way is there for a true believer to know how to--"

"Sin?" Jack finished.

Daniel elbowed him in the side.

"Well," Jack said. "I got nothin'. Except maybe, 'Follow the yellow brick road'."

Fresko's face lit up in understanding. "Ah. We're supposed to seek enlightenment in the waste of our society."

"Huh?"

"Yellow Brick Road. It starts from Bigotry Lane, crosses Parallel Street and ends at the wasteyards," Fresko explained, smiling widely. "I will follow it. Oz' wish is my command."

It was Jack's turn to stare. "Yeah. Right," he said. "Follow the yellow brick road."

"Um. You may go," Daniel added.

"Yes. Thank you! May the road be yellow under your feet!" he said and, with one last bow, vanished into the crowd.

They stood for a while, staring after him.

"Look," Jack finally said. "Let's just--"

"Forget that conversation ever happened? Fine by me."

Completely, perfectly fine.


* * *


Come to think of it--

"Did you notice that our church split?" Daniel asks.

Jack is scraping the last bit of stew from his bowl. He looks up. "What?"

"There are two fractions now. The Reformed Ozians, who wear caps and don't want to be associated in any way with the Ozian Traditionalists, who paint their foreheads. And vice versa," Daniel says. "You should have specified in which direction Yellow Brick Road is supposed to be followed."

"You're not serious," Sam says.

Jack waits for a moment, probably for Daniel to admit that, yes, he was joking. When Daniel does no such thing, he drops his spoon into the empty bowl. "Oh, for crying out loud."

"I'm not comfortable with this situation," Teal'c says.

Daniel needs a moment to make the connection from Teal'c to a bunch of people blindly following a god, and when he does he's embarrassed how long it's taken him.

Jack nods. "I can see why."

"Sorry," Daniel says.

Teal'c inclines his head in a way that communicates, 'not your fault', and that's the end of the matter.

They sit in silence for a while.

"We're making camp outside the city tonight," Jack finally says, surprising Daniel. "This place is freaking me out." He shoots Daniel a knowing look.

Daniel is more thankful for this than Jack can possibly understand.


* * *


The street was busy. They had yet to walk a street in this city that wasn't extremely busy with people and/or creatures from myths, fairytales, and fantasy novels.

Daniel's shoulder bumped into something solid. Or rather someone solid.

"Sorry," Daniel began, his voice trailing off as the dark-cloaked figure turned around. The stranger's face-- somehow it was-- disturbingly familiar. Daniel studied the man for a few seconds but his features insistently eluded recognition.

"Er, do I know you?"

Just too well, answered the figure cryptically and brushed past him to vanish between the passing people.

That voice. A shiver ran up Daniel's spine. The voice-- This was creepy. This was so far beyond creepy he couldn't think of anything that compared.

"Daniel?"

He started and turned around. "I'm here, Sam."

After another searching look down the crowded street, he caught up with the others.

"Where've you been?" Jack said in a reprimanding tone. "I clearly remember saying stick together."

Daniel sighed. "I bumped into someone."

"And what? Asked them to teach you their native language?"

Daniel still felt like someone had walked over his grave. More accurate, he felt like the air force brass ensemble had stampeded over it. He didn't need this.

"Jack? Just-- get lost!" he gritted through his teeth and stomped off.

He could hear Jack mutter, "Was it something I said?" behind his back.


* * *


Daniel sips the last of the instant coffee by the campfire. Sam and Teal'c have already retreated to their tent, both snoring audibly by now.

Jack watches him; observant, inquisitive. "Not much longer now," he finally says. "Sam will figure this out in no time."

Daniel forces a smile. "I'm sure she will."

The full moon floats in the clear sky, looking unearthly and earthly at the same time.

"Go to sleep," Jack says eventually. "I'll take first watch."

Daniel listens the whole night. Despite all the warnings, he doesn't hear any wolves howl.


* * *


The campfire is a warm glow in the distance.

Death takes a moment to reflect on the encounter, and on him.

Humans like this one are-- unsettling. In more ways than one. Firstly, he does not belong here – however one defined here. Death is well aware that other realities, as in other universes, exist, much like a fish knows the water exists. He never concerns himself much about them. As long as they don't interfere with his working schedule, other realities are fine by him.

Any Death in any universe would think the same way, and that is where things start to get complicated. Because there is no such thing as another Death in another universe. Death is Death, here as well as anywhere else. They are all the same, and yet they aren't.

Death knew this man out in the street instantly, although they never – actually – met. Far too often, even, for his – or any Death's – liking.

Not that there are any other Deaths.

Disturbingly, Death seems to be developing a headache. He isn't quite sure whether a mere skull should be able to do so. It is probably a Human Thing, he decides, which only adds to his irritation.

Binky, his white – and very real – horse, chewed on some grass a few feet away. Death's bony hand scratches along his side in an attempt to affectionately pet the animal. Death mounts his horse and feels the strange urge to voice his conclusions regarding Daniel Jackson. That is probably a Human Thing, too.

It is entirely possible that every universe needs its Rincewind, he says.

If someone had been there, out in the field, someone who believed such things likely to be observed, the glowing hoof prints that stayed floating in the air for a few moments wouldn't have gone unnoticed.




* * *


There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.

- George Carlin -


* * *


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