A/N - It's been awhile folks, but here's something new from me. It's a story that's been bouncing around my head for a couple years now and I've taken the time to put some of it down and expand on the original idea to include some new material. A JAG-Stargate SG1-Stargate Atlantis crossover.

Chapter 1

As the Cod taxied to a stop, Harm unstrapped himself. Standing, he moved to the door, not even
looking at the other passengers. As soon as the crew chief had the door open, Harm jumped down to the tarmac and stalked off towards the gates looking for a taxi to get the hell out of Dodge.

"Harm!" Beth called as she followed her partner out of the transport aircraft. "Wait up!"

"Not now Beth," Harm answered without turning around.

"Damn it Harm, yes now. Are you sorry you rescued that family?" Beth asked. Catching up to Harm, she grabbed his shoulder to stop him from walking away.

"You know I'm not. I'd do it again in a heart beat if I had to."

"Are you sorry you were able to pull off a modern miracle and land a wide body transport on an aircraft carrier?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"Beth, you and I both know that I'm done. That camera crew caught me on tape; there are too many reporters who know too much about me out there. There's no way the CIA is going to be able to keep me around now. So, for the second time this year, I am about to find myself without a job."

"Is that such a bad thing partner?" Beth asked with a concerned look in her eye. "Admit it Harm, the Company isn't where you belong. You're too good to work for them, even in the Air Wing."

With a shrug Harm turned away from Beth, but did not move away. "Be that as it may, Beth, and you'll notice I'm not arguing with you, what am I going to do? Beth I'm pushing forty; I'm a little old for retraining. The law and flying are all I know. And I will not go to work for some law firm that doesn't care about the truth, or right and wrong."

"You'll find something Harm, I've got a feeling," Beth said with a smile as she nudged Harm to get him moving again.

For a week after Blaisdale had let him go that day on the golf course, Harm had puttered around the apartment taking care of things that had been neglected since he'd left for Paraguay. Deep down he knew he was just trying to keep busy, but if he thought about it, he had to admit that he did need to take care of a couple of things around the apartment, not to mention the 'vette needed an oil change.

He'd lost count of how many times over the week he'd found himself staring at the phone, thinking about her. Beth was right; when he'd be able to talk to her, he'd know it was over. And right now it still hurt too much, the wound was too raw. Each time he'd gaze at the phone and think of a certain marine, he'd shake his head and force himself back to the task at hand.

And right now that task was thinking about what he was going to do with his life. He'd spoken to a few friends from law school, put out a few feelers, but nothing out there really spoke to him, not the way JAG or flying had. No way was he going to resort to going through the want ads either. If worst came to worst, he supposed he could look at opening up some kind of flight school using Sarah.

With a sigh, Harm leaned back into his couch and covered his eyes with his hands. He honestly, for the first time since he was nine, had no idea what he was going to do. His mother was even talking about him moving back out west, but he wasn't sure that would be much better. Not that he didn't enjoy the West Coast, he just didn't think that would be the right move at this time.

What he really was trying to do was wear himself out. He wanted to be too tired to think, to worry. Too tired to remember Mac. Moving up to his bedroom, Harm decided he needed to go for a run. Ten hard miles might just be what the doctor ordered, he thought with a little smile. Five minutes later he was grabbing his keys off the coffee table and heading for the door in shorts and a t-shirt.

Exiting his building, Harm had already decided not to go to Rock Creek park on the off chance Mac might be there when he noticed a man leaning against the wall a short distance away. Something about the man niggled at Harm's memory. While he was pretty sure he didn't know the man, there was something about him that seemed familiar. Stepping up to his Lexus, Harm was just putting the key into the lock when it struck him; he'd seen the man on no less than three separate occasions in the last week. Four times was too often to be a coincidence, Harm thought with a grimace. Pulling the key from the lock he turned and leaned against the door to his SUV.

"Afternoon," he said pleasantly to the stranger as his eyes moved over the man, weighing and measuring everything about him. He was older than Harm, had salt and pepper greying hair, and was a fair bit shorter, but somewhere deep in Harm's mind alarm bells were ringing. The way the man held himself against the wall, the look in his eyes, the way he continually scanned the street every couple of heartbeats. This man was dangerous.

"Commander," the man said with a casual nod as he stood up straight.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Harm tried to match the casual tone in the man's voice.

"No, but I know you, or at least I know of you," the man smiled easily. "You're something of a legend Commander."

"It's not Commander anymore, I've left the Navy."

"So I heard," the man said with a shrug. "In fact, a mutual acquaintance tells me you're looking for work."

Suddenly the alarm bells were ringing loudly again. The dangerous air about the man, the three times Harm had seen him in the past week, the man coincidentally taking his ease against the wall near Harm's building, it had to be connected. "Webb," Harm muttered under his breath. "Look, I'm sorry, whatever Webb told you, I'm not interested. Who are you? NSA? FBI? No wait, that's a military hair cut. Naval Intelligence? NCIS?"

"None of the above," the man said with a chuckle as he stepped over to where Harm stood. Stretching out his hand the man reached back and rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. "General Jack O'Neill, Air Force. O'Neill with two l's. Apparently there's another one with one l, he hates it when people get us mixed up."

"O'Neill?"

"I prefer Jack, but yeah. Beth said you'd be suspicious."

"Beth?"

"We're cousins," the man said simply. "Listen, Commander, if it's alright with you I'd like to have a conversation with you, but the street outside your apartment isn't really the best place to have it."

"Yes sir," Harm answered automatically. "I was just about to go for a run."

Nodding, Jack smiled again in an attempt to put Harm at ease. "Knock off the sir crap, Commander, the name's Jack. I didn't ask to be a general. I was much happier when I was a Colonel. Mind if we talk in your car on the way to wherever you're running?"

"Uhh sure," Harm answered as he shook his head to try and clear away the confusion that was starting to creep in. Opening the door to his SUV he looked over at Jack before continuing "Listen si..uhh Jack, the name's Harm, I'm no longer a Commander."

"Sounds good, Harm," Jack slid into the SUV and looked around with a low whistle. "These things sure have come a long way. Nicer than my pickup. Now, as to you not being a Commander, well that's part of what I want to talk to you about. I've got your jacket, and I have to say I'm impressed. And I'm not talking about that thing they have in case some reporter wants a background on you; I've seen the whole thing, even got a copy of the CIA file on you. Did you really sneak into Vietnam when you were sixteen?"

"That was a long time ago," Harm answered wryly. "What's this all about Jack?"

"I would have though that you'd have figured it out by now, Harm, I'm here to offer you a job," Jack said with an impish grin. "Well, okay maybe not offer...yet. I'm here to talk to you about a job."

"What kind of job?" Harm asked with a wary glance at his passenger.

"The fun kind. Or at least I've always thought so. Hey, where are we going, anyway?"

"Hadn't really decided; I guess the Washington Athletic Field."

Nodding, Jack pulled out a cell phone from his pocket and dialled a quick number. "Danny? Washington Athletic Field."

"What's that all about?" Harm asked as Jack slipped the phone back into his pocket.

"Just want you to meet a couple of friends is all. They'll be able to answer any questions you have. Way smarter than me, but not as much fun."

For the next couple of minutes Harm and Jack drove in silence, Harm waiting for Jack to begin, Jack just enjoying the ride.

Finally Harm shook his head and glanced out of the corner of his eye at the man next to him. "So, a fun job? Doing what?"

"Hush hush stuff. You know how it is being an ex spook and all," Jack's expression hardened slightly.

"Hey, I was never a spook. Just took em where they needed to be. Couldn't make it as a spook if I wanted to anyway, not morally ambiguous enough."

"Good. I hate spooks. Anyway before I tell you about the job I need to know if you're in or not."

"In or not? On a job I know nothing about? And how am I supposed to make that kind of decision?"

"It's for the military, you'll be reactivated with your O-5 rank, you will get to fly sometimes, your legal expertise could come in handy in some situations I can think of. You will also get a chance to exercise your more...unique...skills."

"Unique skills?"

"Doing a HALO jump without getting qualified, and living. Sneaking into Nam when you were only sixteen, and living. Convincing a squad of Force Recon you belong. Those sorts of special skills."

"Oh, you mean the stuff that got me fired from JAG."

"You weren't fired Harm, you quit," Jack stated matter of factly. "But that's not here nor there, and I know for a fact Chegwidden regrets tendering your paperwork."

"You do, do you?"

"Yeah. Spoke to the SEAL myself before coming out to meet you. Needed to get a feel for you and I figured who better to give that to me than your old CO. He hasn't changed much."

"You know AJ?"

"Met him twenty years ago; he was still with the Teams, and I was a snot nosed Air Force Lieutenant just getting his feet wet in spec ops. Anyway, enough of me. So, you interested in putting on a uniform again?"

Harm didn't really have to think that hard. Most of his life had been spent in the Navy, he didn't feel right without a uniform. "It sounds interesting. And yes, I'm interested in getting back into the service."