Musical Lives by Aloysius
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Category: Jack/Daniel
Genres: Crossover, Humor
Rated: Pre-Teen
Warnings: None
Series: None
Summary: Daniel, Blair and Starsky have an interesting day.

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Author's Chapter Notes:
Unbridled silliness???
Daniel Jackson opened his eyes, to find a reflection of himself staring back at him. There was a - mirror on the ceiling in his room? Before he had a chance to think about it, a familiar voice called from out in the hall.

"Up and at 'em, Jackson! We're going to be late." Jack poked his head into the room, and grinned at Daniel.

The presence of Jack reassured Daniel; that is, until he stepped fully into view and revealed that he was wearing pointed boots, extremely tight jeans, a large-collared shirt and a gun strapped in a holster under his left arm. He had a beige leather jacket slung casually over his shoulder.

"Jack?" Daniel murmured, bewilderment once again clouding his mind.

Jack strode over to the bed and looked down at him, slight puzzlement now crossing his features, too. "It's been a long time since you've called me that - what's with you this morning?" He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to Daniel's.

The warmth of the kiss seemed to travel right through Daniel, dispelling his confusion as it went. Of course he didn't call his partner Jack - what had he been thinking? But what did he call him? For some reason, he considered 'Blintz' for a moment, but that was still just too weird, so he decided to settle for something slightly more generic.

"I'm fine, babe. And you're right - we had better get going. Dobey'll have us riding desks for a week if we're late again." As the words left his mouth, the image of a rotund black police captain yelling at him popped into his mind as something that was normal to his daily life, and Daniel relaxed a bit more.

A few minutes later and he was driving away from his apartment in a bright red Torino, with Jack ensconced entirely naturally in the passenger seat.

Several hundred miles north and twenty-two years into the future, David Starsky awoke to find his slender, blond lover regarding him tenderly. He felt a goofy grin spread across his features, and murmured, "Morning, Hutch."

The familiar furrow appeared between his partner's eyebrows. "Hutch?" the blond questioned. "Where did that come from? Are you trying some subtle tactic to get me to stop calling you by your last name, Chief?"

Starsky experienced a moment's disorientation, and shook his curly head to try and wake himself up a bit more. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, and looked straight *down* into a spacious loft apartment with a view out over the bay. A wave of vertigo swept over him and he clutched at the wood in front of him to steady himself. Why on earth would he sleep all the way up here, when he was afraid of heights?

Hutch's gently teasing voice reached him through the haze. "I'm not going to be fooled by you pretending to be sick, Chief. You're not getting out of filing those reports that easily." A large hand slapped him on the shoulder. "My turn for first shower today." The friendly slap turned into a brief hug, and then the other man's weight was suddenly gone from the bed.

The physical contact grounded Starsky, and he turned to watch Hutch make his way down the stairs. "No problem, Ken," he called after him. "I'll make some breakfast."

"No algae shakes!" came the reply from the vicinity of the bathroom.

Algae shakes? But wasn't it Hutch who- no, Hutch hated health food, didn't he?

Still somewhat confused, Starsky decided not to bother with a shower, instead starting to get dressed. It was when he found himself reaching for Hutch's gun and holster that he really thought he must have lost his mind. Since when did he want to carry a gun - he hated the things! He shook his head again and headed down to the kitchen.

A couple of years even further down the line found Blair Sandburg also waking up in an initially unfamiliar room. He sat straight up in bed, turned to the man lying next to him, and said, "Jim, where are we?"

The sleepy response wasn't in the least bit perturbed by the question. "We decided to stay at your place for a change, remember? You said you needed to feed your fish. Though how they're still alive with the amount of time we spend offworld is beyond me, Blair."

For a moment, his given name sounded strange coming from his lover's lips, but then Blair told himself he was being silly. What else did he expect Jim to call him? Even a year into their relationship, they weren't really into nicknames. It would be too dangerous, considering their work environment. The General would probably figure out something was up if they started calling each other by pet names in the middle of a briefing.

Then something Jim had said struck him. Offworld? And General? Briefing?

Blair's thought processes were interrupted by a long arm that reached out and grabbed him, rolling him on top of Jim, who then pulled his head down and kissed him thoroughly.

"Mmm. good morning," Jim murmured with a lopsided grin when they finally came up for air. Then the older man looked over at the clock. "We'd better get our asses in gear. Time and the Stargate wait for no man!"

Still reeling from the passion of the moment before, Blair's words were slightly slurred. "Stargate? Oh, right - Stargate."

He saw a brief flash of concern cross Jim's expression, then his lover's features relaxed into a smile. "I forgot - it's never a good idea to expect sense from a pre-coffee Blair Sandburg. Hang on, I'll be right back."

Jim vanished from the room and soon Blair could hear the wonderful sound of the coffeemaker chugging away. He lay back against his pillow, confused images of shimmering water and scary people with glowing eyes floating through his mind, while he waited for his first caffeine infusion of the day.

Daniel was really starting to enjoy cruising the streets of Bay City in his flashy car. He was still feeling somewhat uncertain about the clothes he was wearing, and the fact that there was something strange about him being a street cop, but he was having no trouble relaxing into his usual banter with Jack.

"You know, I had a really weird dream last night," he began.

Jack rolled his eyes and groaned. "Do I really want to know what about?"

"We were part of some secret government project that had to do with aliens, and we worked underground, travelling to other planets."

"That's a bit idiotic even for you, Jackson," his partner retorted. "Travelling to other planets from underground? Tell me, how did that work, exactly?"

Daniel thought for a moment, trying to focus on the images of the dream. "Well." The memory faded and he shrugged. "Hey, it was a dream - they're not meant to make sense."

"Very little that comes out of your weird brain ever does," Jack teased.

Daniel never got the chance to answer that, since the police dispatcher chose that moment to interrupt them.

"Zebra 3, Zebra 3, meet the man named Huggy at the Play Pen club."

Jack grabbed the radio. "This is Zebra 3. Ten-four and out. Okay, let's roll!"

But Daniel had pulled the car over and was staring at his partner in disbelief.

In the Major Crimes bull pen of the Cascade Police Department, Starsky was typing. There was a stack of case reports at his side and he was slowly and torturously working his way through them, while Hutch sat with his feet on the desk, reading the paper.

"What's with all this paperwork, man?" he finally asked, as he hit the wrong letter on the weird keyboard for the thousandth time. "Aren't you gonna help me out here?"

Hutch glanced at him over the top of the sports pages with a look of false innocence. "But I thought that was our deal, Chief. I let you study me for your dissertation, and you help out with my paperwork. Besides, I thought you *liked* paperwork, being an academic and all!"

"Study you?" Starsky was back to being confused again. "What are you-"

Hutch held up a finger to silence him and cocked his head to one side, as if he was listening to something, but Starsky couldn't hear anything. After a few seconds, Hutch threw him an apologetic grin.

"Looks like you're going to get out of the paperwork after all. Simon's just had a call from the university and I think you're in trouble!"

"How could you possibly know that?" Starsky demanded, eliciting a bewildered frown from Hutch.

The other man tapped his ear. "Heightened senses, remember? Hey, what's with you today? You've been acting weird all morning?"

"I've been acting weird?" But before Starsky could continue, the office door opened and Simon came storming out.

"Starsky! What do you think you're playing at? I've just had the Dean at Rainier on the phone. He says you missed your Anthropology 101 seminar this morning, and that you're late for a lecture you're meant to be giving right now! When I agreed to let you ride along with Hutchinson, I didn't mean for you to renege on your other responsibilities, and I don't appreciate being chewed out by your superiors at the university. Now get going!"

This was too much for Starsky, who swivelled his gaze back and forth between Hutch and Simon in total confusion, not quite sure what to think.

Blair's sense of unease was steadily growing. Jim had driven them to a military facility on the side of a mountain and they had made their way through several security checkpoints and taken an extremely long elevator ride down into what seemed like the depths of the Earth.

Now they were in a locker room with the other two members of their team, getting ready to go on some sort of a mission. He was just fumbling with the catches on his backpack when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, and a deep rumbling voice spoke in his ear.

"Are you alright, Blair Sandburg? You seem distracted this morning. Ellison and Major Carter have already left for the gate room. We should join them."

"Sure, Teal'c," Blair replied, the name rolling easily off his tongue, but doing nothing to dispel his discomfort. "I'm ready."

He followed the big, black man out into the corridor and soon found himself in a metal and concrete room, which housed a gigantic ring with symbols carved around the outside.

General Hammond's voice sounded through the intercom. "SG-1, you have a go. Good luck!"

Then the Stargate began to spin, and Blair watched, mesmerised, as the lights around the edge lit up in turn. Eventually, there was a huge whoosh of what looked like water, which settled back to form a shimmering surface across the ring.

"Okay, kids, let's hit the wormhole," Jim announced and headed up the ramp.

But Blair was rooted to the spot, staring up at the event horizon in astonishment.

"The clothes and the car I can just about handle," Daniel stated. "But 'the man named Huggy'? That's just going too far!"

"Heightened senses? Anthropology lectures?" Starsky exclaimed. "Just what exactly is going on here?"

"You don't seriously expect me to walk through that thing, do you?" Blair asked fearfully. "Well, tough - because I'm not going!"

The Torino, the bull pen and the gate room faded away and the three confused men found themselves in a pitch black space with no apparent edges, three white spotlights shining down from an indiscernible source to light their surroundings.

It was Daniel who found his voice first. "Who are you guys?"

"Detective Dave Starsky, Bay City PD," Starsky replied matter-of-factly, glad finally to have something straight in his head.

"You wouldn't happen to own a bright red Torino with a white stripe, would you?" Daniel asked.

"Well, yeah!" Starsky exclaimed. "But this morning there was a green Volvo parked outside my apartment." Blair looked over at him in surprise. "That's not the weirdest thing about today, though," Starsky continued. "My partner suddenly seems to have developed heightened senses or something."

"Hey!" Blair piped up. "That's my life you're talking about - Jim's the one with the senses, and that green Volvo is mine! But I was in a military base under a mountain, about to step through some glowing blue water that was supposed to lead to another planet."

"Yeah, right," Starsky snorted. "Like that would ever happen!"

"Actually, it does," Daniel told him quietly. "To me."

"So, we've all been in each other's lives." Blair mused. "How d'you suppose that happened?"

"I think I might have some idea," Daniel said, and pulled the other two men into a conspiratorial huddle. "I think she's tried to take on too much."

"I think you're right," Starsky agreed. "The poor thing's got all confused, trying to do too much at once."

"So how to we sort it out?" Blair wanted to know.

"As far as I can see, there's only one way," Daniel replied, and Starsky and Blair nodded their understanding.

They all turned outwards and yelled up into the black abyss above them.

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