campylobacter: ::iz ded:: (iz-ded)
[personal profile] campylobacter

TITLE: J is for Jonas Hanson 1/1
AUTHOR:

[personal profile] campylobacter 
PAIRING: Gen, but references Samantha Carter/Jonas Hanson
RATING: PG-13/Teens/FRT (mild language)
CATEGORY/GENRE: pre-canon
CHARACTERS: Jonas Hanson, Samantha Carter, Jack O'Neill
TIMELINE/SPOILERS: heavy references to 1x05 "The First Commandment"
ARCHIVED: also at AO3
WORD COUNT: 608

DISCLAIMER: Hey MGM, gimme the rights to the Stargate franchise if you're not gonna do anything with them anymore.

SUMMARY: A brief tribute to the man Sam Carter was engaged to, told from his point of view. (For the SG-1 Gen Fic Day "SGC Alphabet Soup" October 2012 anthology.)


 

“Then he goes, 'Hanson, Hanson, Hanson. I am disappointed in you, my son.'”

“Right before he sets you on fire,” Sam says, completing his story before he can.

Almost sets me on fire. I'll never forget the look on that Arab devil's face when the ambassador barged in with armed guards and ended that 'interrogation' session right quick.”

Jonas thinks he sees Sam stifle a yawn, or a wince. So what if he's told her about the Tehran mission before? He needs to make sure that she never forgets what really happened to him, just in case she ever hears something different. He changes the subject to throw her off. “So this transfer you're getting. It requires security clearance higher than mine?”

“How...” She frowns, totally surprised that he knows. Oh yes, he has channels. He knows men up her chain of command. Plus, his black ops training includes wiretapping expertise. She hesitates before continuing: “It's only analysis of deep space radar telemetry.”

“Yeah, right, Doctor Nanotechnology.”

“Jonas,” she hisses, looking around the tavern like a paranoid freak. It's so easy to make her do that.

“What? You can't hide anything from me, baby, so you might as well tell me everything. No secrets.”

Then she stands up, pushes her chair away. “Oh my god. Here is not the place. Actually, there's no place where— you know what?” Her cheeks are flushed, and she's losing some of that Strong Woman composure. She's so ravishing when she's vulnerable. “I'm calling a cab. You can play your sick little control game all by yourself tonight.”

He watches her leave in a huff. Do all military babes learn that Feminazi act in Basic Training? But he knows how to get to her. He doesn't call her for two days, then leaves messages about how he's lost without her, yadda yadda, will hurt himself, et cetera.

Damned if it doesn't work this time around. Three evenings later he finds a long note on his kitchen counter with the key to his apartment. After paragraphs of touchy-feely stuff about how “it's not anyone's fault”, it closes with these lines:

I can't fix what only a therapist can. Please get help before you sabotage your own ambition. Schrodinger misses you, and so will I.

He only pretended to like that stupid cat. Then he sees the ring he gave her tied to the same ribbon as the key.


When they see each other again, she's shocked that he's made it into the deepest levels of Cheyenne Mountain, and he's a little surprised that she now bears the same rank he does.

“Lookin' good, CAPTAIN Carter.” He lets his eyes wander appreciatively.

“Captain Hanson. Wow.” She smiles as though she's forgiven him and they're long-lost colleagues. “It's been, what? A year?”

He grins. “About that long. Heard you got assigned to Colonel MacNeal's unit.”

“O'Neill. Two Ls,” interrupts a tall, cocky bastard with a smirk as he passes them in the hallway. “Carter's my second in command.”

“Yeah, SG-1,” she says, beaming. “We're geared up for our second mission.” She nods to a stern dark hulk of a guy with a gold emblem on his forehead and a long-haired geek with glasses waiting for the elevator to Level 28.

“Wow. Second in command? Isn't that nice?” Then he plays his ace in the hole: “I just got assigned to SG-9. I'm commanding officer.”

The look on her face is priceless. She's at a complete loss for words.

He shrugs innocently. “I lead in the way of righteousness in the midst of the paths of judgment.” The strings he pulled to get here were worth it.

 

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-15 01:24 pm (UTC)
eilidh17: (Default)
From: [personal profile] eilidh17
Wow! He's one nasty son of a ....

Life is a constant game of control and one-upmanship for him, for sure.

XXX

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-15 01:41 pm (UTC)
eilidh17: (Default)
From: [personal profile] eilidh17
Apparently our PM showed some balls in question time a few days ago. Dayum... wished I'd seen the fireworks if it handed up this kind of inspiration. Still voting for the Sex Party, though ;)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-15 02:21 pm (UTC)
magnavox_23: (KeepCalmAndStargate)
From: [personal profile] magnavox_23
Dude, it all makes sense! (love the fic again <3)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-15 07:13 pm (UTC)
thothmes: Floppy haired early season Daniel yells.  Legend:  Do Not Want! (Do Not Want (Daniel))
From: [personal profile] thothmes
This captures the smug entitlement, the roots of the spiral into religious insanity, and the obsession with power that culminated in the portion of his life that we saw in canon. Frightening, because we all know that there are way too many guys like this out there. Ugh. A marvelous job on an ugly subject.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-18 05:32 pm (UTC)
sid: (Sam in the corner)
From: [personal profile] sid
*admires and empathizes with your devotion to research* :-)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-18 05:30 pm (UTC)
sid: (Sam you suck)
From: [personal profile] sid
SOOOO creepifying. V. nice indeed.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-15 02:00 pm (UTC)
roeskva: (Open the gate)
From: [personal profile] roeskva
Wow, very well written. Very much how I imagine Jonas Hanson. I will never understand how he managed to get assigned to the SGC, but perhaps he could hide his craziness - or had some knowledge he had snooped up that he could use to pressure someone to let him in.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-15 07:11 pm (UTC)
ext_391411: There is a god sitting here with wet fingers. (Qetesh)
From: [identity profile] campylobacter.livejournal.com
Thanks! I re-watched "The First Commandment" 5 times to get a deeper feel for his character, and have concluded that because he's sociopathic and delusional, he distorts other people's motivations to justify his own. When his wild "lunatic fringe" stories of black ops exploits stopped impressing Sam, he resorted to playing on her sympathies by claiming Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome from using "enhanced interrogation techniques" on others.

I agree that he blackmailed an officer or two so that he could get a position at the SCG. I mean, he's just a captain, same as Sam, and *leads* an SG unit? Definitely something suspicious about that assignment.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-15 02:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] magnavox-23.livejournal.com
You write crazy ass so well. *g*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-15 07:17 pm (UTC)
ext_391411: There is a god sitting here with wet fingers. (Qetesh)
From: [identity profile] campylobacter.livejournal.com
I was channeling Tony Abbott (http://tonyandponies.tumblr.com/). ;D Thank you so much for tweeting (https://twitter.com/magnavox_23/status/257598451439783936) such (https://twitter.com/magnavox_23/status/257617113987035137) inspiration (https://twitter.com/magnavox_23/status/257631388461846528). Helped me get into his head space frighteningly well.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-15 05:12 pm (UTC)
ext_69267: (Weather Report)
From: [identity profile] lolmac.livejournal.com
The look on her face is priceless. She's at a complete loss for words.

As she keeps herself from blurting out, "So, you could only make it into the bush-league team here? I never imagined you leading a mop-up squad. Well, don't feel too bad about it."

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-15 07:26 pm (UTC)
ext_391411: There is a god sitting here with wet fingers. (Qetesh)
From: [identity profile] campylobacter.livejournal.com
Ohhhh hell yes! Sam was biting her tongue so hard with a rejoinder that she went ahead and had a little too much fun on P3X-595. ;D Hanson's lucky she was in too a good mood to deem him worthy of a verbal bitch-slap.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-21 06:32 pm (UTC)
ext_1941: (alphabet soup)
From: [identity profile] sg-fignewton.livejournal.com
Going in alphabetical order and now up to J... Whenever you end up reading this.

Wow, Campy, you got very scarily into what I imagine is exactly his headspace. Manipulation as an art, until he doesn't even know anything else any more, and he ends up manipulating himself right into the iris.

Thanks for contributing. :)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-10-23 01:28 pm (UTC)
ext_391411: There is a god sitting here with wet fingers. (Qetesh)
From: [identity profile] campylobacter.livejournal.com
I tried my best to see the world through his eyes so that I could represent his viewpoint with empathy; however, it was such a warped headspace that I'm afraid the only redeeming value to him I could illustrate was how well suited he was to the darker side of black ops. Dear Sam was engaged to him for a reason, right? She was lured in (canonically) by his bad-boy charm, so I'll stick with that.

Ah well... if anything, the challenge of exploring how a "villain" thinks at least gives him slightly more dimension than the cardboard antagonist in the episode, and I'm glad I could contribute a letter to the last Soup ever.

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