TITLE: Have Yourself A Manic Little Christmas
STORY AUTHOR: Tiffany Park
EMAIL: anderson7836@comcast.net
FRACTURED CAROL LYRICS BY: Rachelle Coe
CATEGORY: Humor, Challenge Response
SPOILERS: A vague reference or two to "Politics."
SEASON: Sometime during the second season. Written during the syndicated second season.
RATING: PG-13
CONTENT WARNINGS: Some mild language and extensive creative license. One minor, irritating character buys the farm. No angst, smarm, whumping, or h/c. Sorry, dudes.
SUMMARY: Response to Challenge #128 on the Heliopolis web site, submitted by KaraMeL. The SGC and a wayward Goa'uld cross paths on Christmas Eve...
STATUS: Completed
ARCHIVE: Heliopolis okay, any others please ask.
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, I didn't follow all the guidelines exactly (hey, KaraMeL said we didn't have to!), but, personally, I think that more than enough of them are in this thing. Some of them might be twisted beyond recognition, though.

"Are you certain this is a wise course of action, Captain Carter?" Teal'c asked from behind the bushy fir tree he was balancing.

"Don't ask me. This was Daniel's idea," Sam replied from underneath the branches, where she was attempting to fasten the Noble Fir's trunk into a green and red tree stand. The tree shuddered as she tightened the screws into place. A few needles rained down on her. "Oh, yuck," she muttered as she brushed the needles out of her hair.

"Is that supposed to happen? It seems to happen quite often."

"Yeah, it's normal," Sam assured her tree-holder. She looked back at the living room and winced at all the needles on the rug, the result of several failed attempts to put the tree up. Getting a seven foot fir tree in a tree stand was proving to be a lot tougher than anyone had anticipated. "We'll vacuum up the mess when we're done." She gave the last screw another turn to tighten it. "Okay, Teal'c. Let go, real careful, and let's see if it stays up this time."

Slowly, with a caution born of unhappy experience, Teal'c released his hold on the tree. The Noble Fir trembled slightly, then settled and stayed upright.

"Thank God for major favors," Sam said as she straightened up, brushing her hands against her jeans. She stepped back a few paces and surveyed the tree. "Well, it's a little tilted, but I don't think anyone'll notice, and at least it doesn't look like it's going to fall over again."

"That is good to hear."

"Tell me about it. Wonder how Daniel's doing?" Sam was still rubbing her hands on her pantlegs, a little more vigorously now.

"I imagine that he has almost completed his task. He has been working on the lights all day."

"Yeah, that's what worries me. He's already made three trips to HomeBase. I hope he isn't getting too carried away with the whole thing." She started scraping her palms with her fingernails. "God, I hate tree sap."

"Carried away?"

"Just a sec, Teal'c." Sam gave up on scraping the gummy sap off her hands and walked into the kitchen, heading straight for the sink. She bent down, opened the cupboard under the sink, and spent a few minutes rooting around among the jumble of bottles, containers, and miscellaneous junk. When she straightened again, she triumphantly held a can of turpentine. "God knows why he keeps this here, but I'm not complaining," she commented as she stood over the sink and poured the turpentine over her hands. "This stuff'll really cut the gunk."

Teal'c regarded her curiously. "Should you not dilute that first?"

"Probably, but then it'll take longer to dissolve the sap."

"I see." Teal'c raised a doubtful brow. "You were about to explain why Daniel Jackson would get 'carried away,' were you not?"

"Oh, yeah." As she rinsed her hands off under the faucet, she explained over her shoulder, "Well, he seemed awfully excited about this idea, and he said that he didn't get to do as much for Christmas when he was growing up. And they don't even celebrate it on Abydos. I'm just afraid he might be making up for lost time now. Besides, he's only got an apartment, so he's pretty limited in how many decorations he can put up at his own place." She dried her hands on a dishcloth and handed the can to Teal'c. "Here, this'll get that gunk off your hands. It might take some skin with the sap, but Junior ought to handle that for you."

Teal'c accepted the can and poured the solvent over his hands. "Indeed, my symbiote will have no difficulty healing such a minor injury."

Sam stared at her reddened hands, resigned to the tingling sensation. "Almost makes me with I had a Junior of my very own."

Teal'c looked at her.

"Hey," she protested mildly, "I said, almost."

"Should we decorate the tree now?" Teal'c asked as he finished rinsing and drying his hands.

"Nah, better not," Sam replied as they walked back into the living room. "Daniel'll kill us if we do that without him. Let's clean up the mess we made first. I'll get the vacuum."

Just then the front door flew open, and Daniel staggered into the entryway, stamping snow from his feet and blowing on his hands. "Wow, it's cold out there," he said, slamming the door behind him.

"You should have worn gloves," Sam observed unsympathetically as Daniel stamped his way into the living room.

"Yeah, well, they would have gotten in the way of--" Daniel stopped dead and stared at the tree. "It's tilted."

"Thank you so very much for pointing that out, Daniel."

"Well, it is."

Teal'c looked at Sam. "You said no one would notice."

Sam cast an annoyed glance at Daniel, who was still looking at the tree with his head slanted to one side. The same angle the tree was leaning at, she noted with irritation. "We'll just turn it around until it doesn't look tilted anymore," she said.

"That'll work," Daniel agreed. He immediately started shifting the tree around. After rotating it a quarter turn, he asked, "How's that?"

"Better," Sam admitted grudgingly. After all, Daniel had manhandled the tree, saving her from another battle with tree sap and turpentine.

Daniel stood back and eyed the fir. "You know, I can't believe he didn't even have a tree." He looked around the living room and inhaled deeply, then added, "It looks really nice in here. Smells nice, too."

Sam smiled at that, mollified. She and Teal'c had already decorated the room, deliberately saving the tree wrestling for last. Swathes of cedar, twined with silver and red garlands, were draped along the walls and over the hearth, and spun-glass angel hair, accentuated with elegant toy reindeer and artfully disordered heaps of shiny glass ornaments, covered the mantle over the fireplace. A few strings of lights were nestled among the decorations, making the glass and tinsel sparkle. And the crisp scent of freshly cut evergreens filled the air.

"But you forgot the mistletoe," Daniel noted critically.

Irritated again, Sam opened her mouth to retort that no one was putting up mistletoe while she was in the room, but before she could say a word, Teal'c displayed a rare sense of timing and asked, "Did you finish the lights, Daniel Jackson?"

"Oh, yeah! You guys have got to come out and see the house," said Daniel enthusiastically. He made a 'follow me' gesture with one arm and headed back outside. Sam grabbed her jacket and obediently followed him, Teal'c trailing after her.

A few minutes later, Sam re-entered the house, rolling her eyes and shaking her head in disbelief. An indignant Daniel was right on her heels.

"What do you mean, it's too much?" Daniel asked her, a defensive tone creeping into his voice.

"I just don't think the colonel's gonna go for it, that's all." Sam stripped off her coat and threw it into a chair, then crossed her arms. "As a matter of fact, I'm not sure how he's going to take this whole thing..."

"It'll cheer him up," Daniel insisted. "You know how depressed he gets around the holidays."

"Maybe," Sam said doubtfully. "But somehow I doubt that he'll be too thrilled with the fact that his house and yard are now lit up bright enough to see from orbit."

"Hey, it looks great," Daniel said, stung by the criticism. "I worked hard on that display."

"I know you did, Daniel, and the wreath on the door and the icicle lights hanging from the gutters look really nice, but maybe you should have stopped there." At Daniel's pout, she added, "Don't you think that the mechanical Santa and reindeer on the roof, the Frosty light sculpture and the Nativity scene in the front yard, and 'Merry Christmas' spelled out in about twenty different languages, in flashing colored lights all over the siding and garage doors, might be just a little too much?" She gestured with her right hand, the thumb and index finger held about a quarter inch apart as she spoke to emphasize her point.

"At least you didn't mention the candy canes lining the driveway," Daniel grumbled.

"I was being kind."

Teal'c came back into the house. "It is a most impressive display, Daniel Jackson," he said solemnly.

"Thank you, Teal'c," Daniel said, his mood visibly improved by the lukewarm praise. He turned back to Sam and added, "See, someone appreciates decorating genius."

"Uh, huh," Sam muttered. Like a Jaffa knew anything about Christmas lights.

Daniel ignored her. He pulled off his coat and tossed it on top of hers. "Let's hang the stockings now," he said, holding up a bright red Christmas stocking with his own name embroidered on it in metallic green thread and multicolored sequins. He grabbed some duct tape and moved over to the fireplace.

"See, this is what I mean, Daniel," Sam protested. "You don't think that hanging stockings with our names on them isn't a little too much?"

As he hung his stocking over the hearth, he replied, "Hey, why not? He's always calling us his kids."

Teal'c picked up his own stocking and frowned at it in confusion. "What is the purpose of this activity, Daniel Jackson?"

While Daniel explained about Santa Claus and Christmas elves to Teal'c, Sam busied herself with vacuuming up the needles from the carpet. Fortunately, it was a quick job; just the living room and entryway. Good thing they hadn't dragged that dratted tree through the rest of the house. As she shut off the vacuum, she heard Daniel tell Teal'c, "Even NORAD's gotten into the act."

"NORAD?" Teal'c inquired. "That is the military facility housed above the SGC at Cheyenne Mountain, is it not?"

"Yep," Daniel confirmed. "And every year, they track Santa as he journeys around the world. They claim their satellites can even spot Rudolph's nose."

"Rudolph?"

"The red nosed reindeer," Sam broke in. Judging by the look on Teal'c's face, she had failed to clarify the issue. Daniel just grinned when Sam continued, "He leads Santa's sleigh-team, since his nose glows a bright enough red to cut through the worst blizzard."

Teal'c just looked at her and raised a brow.

"Anyway, Teal'c," Daniel said, "NORAD's even got a Santa Watch website. Come on, I'll show you."

Daniel led the way into Jack's study, where a laptop computer sat on the heavy desk. He seated himself and booted the machine. "I've never understood why Jack keeps this, since he's always saying how much he hates computers."

"It's so he can take the non-classified work home, if he needs to," Sam said.

"He's got non-classified work?"

"Well, I also think he uses it to find stuff with his telescope."

The computer chimed gently. Daniel immediately fired up the modem and brought up a web browser, then typed in www.noradsanta.org. A computer generated Santa appeared on the screen, accompanied by the NORAD insignia. "Here we go," he muttered as he clicked on a few more icons. He gestured at the screen. "See, NORAD's tracking Santa over Australia, right now."

Teal'c looked surprised. "And this is considered an appropriate use of military resources?"

"Well, they are supposed to keep an eye on the sky, so to speak."

"I see. They consider this Santa Claus to be a potential threat, then? But you have told me that he is a beloved figure in your holiday celebrations." Teal'c's voice held immense confusion.

Sam shook her head in amusement. The image of Santa Claus getting shot down by one of NORAD's F-16s for violating U.S. airspace was just too funny, in a warped sort of way... "It's mostly just for fun, Teal'c. And it's good PR for NORAD. The kids really love it."

Daniel shut down the computer with a sigh of defeat. "Okay, let's just forget NORAD. That's too much like work, anyway. I'm sorry I brought it up. Why don't we go decorate the tree, instead?" he suggested hopefully.

Tree decorating proved to be an acceptable distraction.

Daniel co-opted the job of stringing lights on the tree. He's really got a thing for lights, Sam noted, watching him thread yet another string of tiny lights through the heavy branches. Once enough lights were in place to suit him, the serious task of hanging ornaments got underway. Most of these were the round glass, store-bought kind, with a few angels and musical instruments thrown in for variety. But Daniel surprised them once again, coming up with a few decorations that had an obviously Egyptian theme.

"Do you really think the colonel will appreciate having an Eye of Ra on his tree?" Sam asked.

Daniel grinned and said, "It's kind of appropriate, don't you think?"

"It's just a little jarring," Sam explained, "hanging next to that angel, there."

"Maybe I could move it," Daniel conceded. Then his attention was caught by Teal'c's decorating efforts. "Teal'c, are those candles you're putting on the tree?"

"Yes, Daniel Jackson. In the Victorian Christmas book you showed me, all of the trees were decorated thus." Teal'c affixed a few more candles to the branches, then pulled out a book of matches.

"Well, yes," said Daniel, "but you're not supposed to actually light them--"

One of the newly lit candles toppled over, igniting the branch it was sitting on. The needles flared, tiny flames dancing along their tips. Wisps of gray curled through the air, then a piercing shriek filled the room as the smoke detector went off.

"Holy--" Sam gasped. "The tree's on fire!" She bolted into the kitchen and practically dove under the sink, retrieving a fire extinguisher. She ran back into the living room and hosed the tree down, covering the smoldering branches with white foam. When she had the fire out, she dropped the extinguisher and sat heavily on the floor, trying to catch her breath.

Daniel climbed up on a chair and pulled the battery out of the smoke alarm, silencing it.

"Lighting the candles was a mistake," Teal'c stated, dispirited.

"Hey, it's okay, Teal'c." Daniel hopped down from the chair and put a comforting arm over the Jaffa's slumped shoulders. "It's my fault. I should have explained about that when I gave you the book."

"Yeah, could've happened to anyone. Don't sweat it," Sam agreed, mostly to spare Teal'c's feelings. She gazed dejectedly at the foam covered branches. Fortunately, the tree was reasonably fresh, and therefore wet, so the fire hadn't progressed very far. She hoped the damage underneath all that frozen carbon dioxide wasn't too severe. "Made a mess, though."

"I dunno," Daniel said consideringly. "It looks kinda like it's flocked, that way."

"It was a CO2 extinguisher. That white stuff's not gonna last very long."

Sure enough, the carbon dioxide sublimed away in the warmth of the house, leaving behind a large patch of scorched branches. The trio stared at it in resignation.

"Um, maybe if we turn the burned side towards the wall?" Daniel suggested, rubbing his face.

Teal'c said, somewhat diffidently, "Perhaps we should remove the damaged branches first?"

"That's a good idea." Daniel disappeared out the front door. When he returned, he held a large pair of gardening shears in his hands. He immediately started pruning the charred material from the tree.

Sam and Teal'c picked up the fallen branches and carried them out to the garbage. Daniel vacuumed up the loose bits of charcoal and fallen needles from the carpet. When the reclamation project was complete, the trio stood back and scrutinized their efforts.

"This side is flat now," Teal'c stated the obvious.

"Well, we'll just turn the flat side towards the wall, and it'll be fine," Sam said. "No one will notice."

"That is what you said before, Captain Carter, when it was leaning slightly to one side--"

"Just turn it around."

Teal'c permitted himself a small sigh, took hold of the fir and, amidst the tinkling sound of falling ornaments, wrestled it around. He carefully replaced the decorations he had dislodged.

Daniel stared at the tree for a moment, then announced, "It's tilted again."

Sam and Teal'c glared at him.

Thank God a place like the SGC had to stay operational year round, Jack mused as he strode down the long hallway towards the control room. Work was always a good distraction from the holiday blues that tended to afflict him. Without it, he'd probably need a Prozac prescription. Too bad he couldn't work twenty-four hours a day for the next week or so.

Maybe he'd just bunk here until after New Year's.

He snickered a little as he passed Hammond's office. Some joker had hung a sprig of mistletoe over the door. Jack almost wished he knew who had put it there. Of course, everyone on base figured he'd done it, but for once in his life he was innocent. Good thing the general was out of town this week, because Jack knew who Hammond would blame for the deed, and K.P. just wasn't one of his favorite duty assignments.

Even though the SGC was almost fully staffed, the corridors still seemed overly quiet. Perhaps that was because his usual cronies had all abandoned him. Hammond was spending Christmas with his family, and most especially his granddaughters. Carter had taken the week off as well, and Jack figured she would also be visiting family.

But what was surprising was that Daniel and Teal'c had requested, and been granted, a few days of holiday leave. Now that was weird, considering that neither had any strong ties outside the SGC. Well, Daniel might go say hello to Catherine Langford, but what on earth would Teal'c do with leave at Christmas? When he asked them about it, Daniel had explained that he was planning to show Teal'c the sights at Christmas time, initiate him into a few of the holiday's absurdities, and maybe take him to a mall for some Christmas Eve shopping. Who knew, Daniel told him with a wicked grin, maybe Teal'c would even get to see Santa Claus. Jack had closed his eyes and prayed for all he was worth.

Because, quite frankly, the idea of Daniel and Teal'c running around loose in a shopping mall on Christmas Eve scared the hell out of him.

As he rounded the corner and headed into the control room, he noticed Makepeace and Johnson of SG-3 loitering around and generally making nuisances of themselves. The Marines had drawn holiday duty, and while they made it plain that they were unhappy about that situation, they had also apparently decided to make the best of it. Right now they were in the process of hanging Christmas decorations from the various doorways, railings, and consoles. Jack mock-scowled at them and said humorously, "Don't you people have anything useful you could be doing?"

Makepeace just shrugged, unconcerned. "And a 'ho ho ho' to you, too, flyboy."

Before Jack could retort, the duty technician got up out of his chair and held the phone out, saying with a concerned expression, "Sir? There's something you should know about going on up at the guard station."

"Oh?" Jack enquired, taking the phone. He held it up to his ear and spoke into the receiver, "Colonel O'Neill speaking."

"Colonel, this is Sergeant Epstein up at the main gate," a masculine voice replied. "We've got a visitor coming through for you people."

"Is that so? I assume he's got the appropriate clearances."

"I'm afraid so, sir," Epstein sounded regretful. "It's Senator Kinsey. He's here to conduct an inspection of the facility--"

"An unannounced inspection? On Christmas Eve?" Jack asked incredulously. The control room became very quiet, as all the background chatter and activity ceased at his exclamation. He took a deep breath and muttered, "Geeze, what a Scrooge."

"I heard that, O'Neill," another voice, obviously belonging to the senator, announced over the telephone.

"Sorry, sir," Epstein's voice added rather apologetically. "He requested that I put the speaker-phone on just now."

Jack heaved a dispirited sigh at his unfortunate timing. "Let him through, Sergeant," he ordered, then hung up the phone and wearily turned to face the control room. He explained the situation in as few words as he could manage.

As he expected, the surprise senatorial visit was treated with a certain amount of derision. The members of SG-3 were especially contemptuous.

"Hey, didn't some DoD auditor pull this exact same stunt on a defense contractor a few years back?" Johnson asked.

"Yeah," Makepeace agreed. "I remember that. Except I heard it was an Air Force grinch." He smirked in Jack's direction.

"It was the DoD, and it's ancient history," Jack said, glaring at Makepeace. "We've just got to get through this one, if we don't wanna get shut down. Everyone look alive." He suddenly realized that the good senator might not take too kindly to the twinkling lights and wreaths that now ornamented the control room. "Oh, man, we've got to get rid of all the Christmas stuff before that blowhard gets here!"

Before they could strip down more than a few of the decorations, Senator Kinsey, accompanied by an obsequious aide and wearing a smug, self-satisfied expression, sauntered into the control room. He glowered pointedly at the mistletoe hanging from the doorway and said without preamble, "I see you people are wasting the taxpayers' money again."

"It's just a few Christmas decorations, Senator," Jack said. "You know, all that 'ho ho ho' and 'Good Will Towards Men' stuff that people get into at this time of year? Besides, nobody spent any defense money on it."

"Your salaries are paid with defense money," Kinsey retorted, "so the time you spent doing all this wasted your budget."

"Yes, sir," Jack said politely and sighed, reigning in his exasperation. He noticed that the miscreant Marines had sidled to the back of the room, leaving him to take the heat, and decided that he'd have to get them back for that someday.

"Well, let's get to it. I want a closer look at what you people have been doing with the Stargate."

Jack privately doubted that the senator would comprehend much of the technology set up in the embarkation room, but obediently escorted the man and his aide down. "As you can see, sir, we haven't changed anything since the last time you were here. Since no team is currently off-world, we're keeping the iris closed as a preventative measure--"

Kinsey cut off his monologue and strode up the ramp to face the Stargate directly. He placed his hands on his hips and said, "I need a closer look at how this iris works."

"Ah, why?" Jack couldn't for the life of him understand what good that would do the senator. He finally decided that the man was just being difficult.

"It's a detail that I need for my official report." Kinsey glared at Jack, daring him to comment. When Jack only shrugged, the senator turned back to the Stargate and reached out towards an electrical coupling.

"Sir, I wouldn't touch that--"

"I'll touch what I damn well please, Colonel."

Jack was really starting to regret that Scrooge comment he'd made earlier. Kinsey disliked him enough already, simply for his involvement in a project which the man disapproved of, and now seemed to be on some kind of vendetta. He was sure that the entire inspection was just an excuse for some meaningless harassment against the SGC, and found himself wishing that Hammond hadn't taken the week off. The general was much better at dealing with the vagaries of officious politicos than he was.

Kinsey was examining the coupling a little too closely for Jack's liking. The senator fiddled with it briefly, then cursed and yanked his hand back when it emitted a fat, blue spark. Jack indulged in a moment of amusement, thinking it was a crying shame that the man hadn't electrocuted himself through his ignorance, before he heard a grinding sound and looked up at the Stargate. The rest of the power couplings smoked and sparked, and then, slowly, ponderously, the iris retracted.

"Oh, hell, he broke it," Jack groaned softly. The senator's aide looked at him nervously. He ignored the man and shouted up at the control room, "Better get someone down here to fix this thing!"

"Right," the duty technician replied over the speakers, then immediately picked up the phone.

Jack shook his head and turned back to the senator, when a flash of light caught his eye. He frowned and stared hard at the Stargate. It looked like Chevron One was engaged. As he pivoted back to yell up at the control room, the base klaxons started screaming and a voice announced over the speakers, "Off-world activation. Repeat, off-world activation. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill."

This was really turning out to be a bad day.

Several armed guards rushed into the embarkation room and took up positions beside the ramp, rifles at the ready. Makepeace and Johnson joined them, looking wolfish. It figured they wouldn't want to miss a possible shoot-out, Jack groused to himself.

"What's happening?" Kinsey asked, watching the chevrons light up, one by one.

"The Stargate's being engaged, sir, probably by someone unfriendly. Senator Kinsey, you'd better move back here," Jack said, pointing to the black and yellow marks on the floor that indicated safe distance from the Stargate.

"I'll move when I'm good and ready," the senator snarled, turning his back on Jack and his aide.

"Senator, I insist," Jack tried again. He was considering going up there and dragging the senator away when the decision was taken out of his hands.

Uncaring of the importance, and ego, of the man standing before it, the Stargate activated with a whoosh of ionizing particles and radiation, the explosive wash completely engulfing the senator, leaving behind only a pair of very expensive shoes, complete with feet, smoking at its base. The wash stabilized into the familiar, watery event horizon. A lone man stepped through the shimmering pool of light, carefully avoiding the charred footwear beneath him. He surveyed the room coldly, eyes glowing, then focused on the soldiers before him and lifted an arm.

"Holy--" Expecting to get zapped by a ribbon device, Jack dove to one side of the ramp, tugging the senator's shocked aide with him, and pulled his sidearm. He took careful aim at the Goa'uld and squeezed off a few rounds, only to see the bullets bounce harmlessly off of their intended target. This Goa'uld had one of those personal force fields. "Oh, shit," Jack muttered, pressing himself down against the floor. He noted out of the corner of his eye that Makepeace, Johnson, and the guards had also sought cover, and were still firing uselessly at the Goa'uld.

Instead of returning the attack, the Goa'uld only turned and ran out of the embarkation room, shouting something unintelligible about Ra.

Jack bolted up to the control room, yelling orders as he ran. "Lock down the base! Maximum security! And get a search started for that damn Goa'uld, on the double!" He paused at the top of the stairs, catching his breath, then spoke to the duty technician in a calmer tone of voice, "Recall all available off-duty personnel immediately."

Klaxons continued their screaming, security doors slammed tight, and groups of armed soldiers strode purposefully throughout the complex. Jack scrutinized the security monitors, hoping to catch sight of their quarry, but all the cameras picked up were their own people. "Ra again," he grumbled under his breath. "Sweet. That's all we need. Merry Christmas, Jack."

Grenchah tugged the heavy red coat into place and smoothed the silky white beard, arranging it carefully on his chest. The strange clothing he had found in that abandoned vehicle would serve as an adequate disguise; none of those accursed Tau'ri warriors would recognize him in this garb. He gazed around the snowy parking lot and espied a large group of humans milling by a long, yellow vehicle with black markings. Perhaps he could lose himself in the crowd while he formed a plan of attack.

He was, in essence, on a suicide mission, having journeyed to the Tau'ri homeworld in order to exact vengeance for the Lord Ra's death. He only had to stay free long enough to enact a suitable revenge. Escaping from that underground complex had not been an easy task, and he felt a touch of pride at his achievement. Not even that lunatic Apophis would have dared such a feat.

Casually, he started to make his way to the crowd, when a pale blue vehicle squealed to a stop in front of him. The driver, a brown-haired human woman, leaned out the window and yelled, "Hey, watch it!"

Grenchah stared at her, frowning.

The woman asked, "Hey, are you okay? You shouldn't wander right in front of cars like that."

"Oh. I am... sorry," Grenchah replied.

"Well, be more careful, Santa. Okay?"

Grenchah nodded.

"You with the troop?" she asked, indicating the group by the yellow vehicle. "I don't remember a Santa on the tour."

"No." He didn't dare claim otherwise, lest the woman become suspicious. She seemed friendly enough, though. Perhaps he could deceive her into assisting him. "I believe I am lost."

"Lost? Did your ride leave without you?"

He hoped that meant what he thought it did. "Yes. I was abandoned."

"Well, that's melodramatic," she said, smiling. "Can I drop you somewhere? I'm headed to the mall."

"Yes. My destination is the... mall." This seemed a perfect opportunity to escape. Grenchah wasn't sure what a mall was, but for his purposes it was as good a place as any. At least it was away from the military base. It would give him a brief respite, while he planned his vengeance.

"Hop on in, Santa." The woman leaned across her seat, and opened the passenger's side door. Grenchah slid into the vehicle, somewhat taken aback. This Tau'ri woman wasn't afraid of him; in fact, she seemed pleased at his appearance. And that name she had used--Santa--she had spoken that word with a measure of affection. The vehicle started moving, following the black road. "You probably think I'm insane, picking up a total stranger like this, but I think of it as my Christmas good deed," the woman babbled cheerfully. "Besides, I've had to hitchhike, myself, on occasion. I know what it's like to be stranded out in the middle of nowhere."

Grenchah nodded, unsure what to say. He watched the passing scenery with interest. The Tau'ri homeworld was not unlike many of the Goa'uld worlds. He supposed that wasn't terribly surprising, as those planets had been chosen with humans in mind. However, he much preferred the warmer worlds, having a personal distaste for cold in general and snow in particular.

The woman continued, "And let me tell you, Cheyenne Mountain is way too far from town to walk. And just try to get a cab out here. By the way, I'm Joannie."

Grenchah shifted his attention from the snow covered hills to Joannie. He couldn't tell her his own name, but clearly some form of introduction was in order. Then he smiled. "I am O'Neill," he said, amused to use the name of one of Lord Ra's murderers to deceive the stupid Tau'ri.

"Got a front handle?" she asked. When he frowned with incomprehension, she shrugged and said, "Well, I'll just call you Santa."

"Santa," he repeated. He wondered who this Santa was.

"The mall's about fifteen minutes away, Santa O'Neill. It'll be a quick trip."

"Fifteen minutes." If he understood Joannie correctly, that was probably some measure of time. He wondered how long it was.

Undeterred by his taciturn responses, Joannie chatted happily the entire trip, talking of her son Davey and how much he loved Christmas, detailing her plans to pick up a few last minute gifts and some special cookies that Davey wanted to leave out for Santa. She went on and on about Davey and his fascination with Santa Claus, reindeer, elves, and the North Pole.

Grenchah listened to Joannie's chatter with appalled fascination, and he gleaned a great deal of information about the person she had mistaken him for. Santa Claus was obviously either a god or a ruler of immense power and prestige, with amazing technology that he used to impress the Tau'ri, to have garnered such reverence from the humans here. But in Grenchah's opinion, the reverence and fondness the humans seemed to hold for Santa Claus was misplaced.

In fact, the more he heard about Santa Claus, the less impressed he became. This was what the Tau'ri had replaced the glorious Ra with? An isolated fool who made a career of giving away children's toys?

Slaves should be governed by terror and the whip, not bribery. Grenchah felt a stab of contempt for such an indulgent ruler.

Nevertheless, the Tau'ri seemed to love Santa Claus wholeheartedly. It was apparent that their entire culture revolved around him, and that if he failed to make his scheduled toy deliveries that their civilization would no doubt collapse.

Grenchah resolved to kill Santa Claus at the first opportunity. Destroying such a beloved and irreplaceable deity would be the perfect revenge for Lord Ra's murder.

The woman obviously expected to find Santa Claus at the mall, so Grenchah would let her take him there. He leaned back in his seat and let her babble roll over him, all the while making and discarding various plans to eliminate the new Tau'ri god.

Eventually, the vehicle pulled up in front of an enormous fortress constructed of concrete, steel, and glass. Even the lights, bows, and greenery with which it was decorated could not disguise its stark, functional design. This was a place of power, perhaps even Santa Claus' primary temple.

Hundreds of humans rushed in and out of the sliding glass doors, many of them carrying large bags filled with mysterious objects. Looking at the stressed expressions on their faces, Grenchah decided that Santa Claus' official holiday wasn't quite the season of good will and joy that Joannie had made it out to be.

"Here we are, Santa O'Neill," Joannie said cheerfully. "Nice chatting with you. Merry Christmas!"

Grenchah inclined his head at her, and stepped out of the vehicle. With a friendly little beep of her horn, Joannie drove off and vanished into anonymity in the sea of stationary Tau'ri vehicles.

He turned back towards the imposing mall-temple and the innumerable humans scurrying in and out at breakneck speed. If he was to find and kill Santa Claus, he would have to brave the hordes of worshippers. He squared his shoulders and stepped forward, unwilling to permit mere humans to deter him.

Off to one side of the multiple doors, obstructing some of the foot traffic, was a lone Tau'ri male. The man was dressed much as he himself was, standing next to a red and green kettle that was hanging from a tall tripod, and ringing a bell. Could this man be his quarry? Could it really be so easy? Grenchah moved closer to the man.

The human looked him over with an expression of amusement. "Hey, Santa," he said, never once ceasing the rhythmic bell ringing.

Obviously, this man was not Santa Claus, but merely dressed in homage to his god. Grenchah wondered about the significance of the tripod and bell. They appeared to be objects of worship. If that was so, then those who wore the red and white costume must be members of some kind of holy order, perhaps even priests. Judging by this man's response to him, as well as Joannie's, the term 'Santa' was a religious honorific. His disguise was even better than he had thought.

The man continued, "Aren't you supposed to be inside?"

"Inside?"

"Yeah, up on the main stage. There's a whole line of kids waiting for Santa Claus, last I looked."

So. Santa Claus was within the mall-temple. Grenchah narrowed his eyes in anticipated triumph and stalked through the sliding glass doors.

"Merry Christmas!" the man called, then muttered quietly, "You cheapskate."

"So, Jack, what's the big emergency?" Daniel asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and curiously eyeing the frenzied activity surrounding him. "What's going on?"

Jack frowned at the jeans and sweatshirts both Daniel and Sam were wearing, but at least they had arrived in good time. Teal'c, as per usual, was in his BDUs. Jack wondered, not for the first time, if the Jaffa ever wore anything else. "We've got a Goa'uld loose somewhere in the base," he replied curtly.

"What?" Sam practically shouted. "How could that happen? Sir," she added belatedly.

"Kinsey broke the iris. The Stargate activated. The Goa'uld came through," he stated tersely.

"Where is the good senator, anyway?" Daniel asked, gazing around nervously.

"He got vaporized when the Stargate activated. The ass wouldn't move when I told him to."

"The Goa'uld killed him? Maybe we ought to give him a medal."

"Indirectly, Daniel," Sam added. "That only merits a commendation, not an actual medal."

Jack grinned, but only said, "Better belay that talk, at least in public."

Teal'c frowned at them, then walked across the control room and gazed intently at a security monitor. Jack noticed that it was replaying the Goa'uld's arrival, and joined the Jaffa. "Anyone you know?" he asked hopefully.

Teal'c replied, never taking his eyes from the monitor, "Yes. It is Grenchah."

"Grinch? His name is Grinch?"

"Grenchah," Teal'c corrected patiently. "At one time, he was a minor vassal of Ra. After Ra's death, he lost his place and has been in disgrace."

"Okay, that makes sense. He yelled something about Ra before he ran off."

Daniel was watching over Jack's shoulder. "If you turn up the volume, Teal'c or I might be able to translate what he said."

Jack nodded to a technician, who activated the sound and replayed the tape. Daniel pursed his lips, obviously unhappy, and looked to Teal'c, who said, "He is here to avenge Ra."

"That's it?" Jack said.

Daniel nodded. "That's pretty much all he said. Well, that, and a profanity or two about Ra's murderers. That would be you and me," he added wryly.

"Sweet."

"I see he's got one of those personal shields," Sam pointed out.

"Yeah, that's why he got away," Jack confirmed. "We'll have to surprise him before he can activate it. Assuming we can find him, that is. God knows where he is, 'cause I sure don't."

A corporal came up to Jack and proffered a manilla folder. "Sir, here's the anomaly report you requested."

"Anomalies?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah," Jack replied, taking the report and scanning it quickly. "I wanted to see if anything weird's happened up at NORAD."

"How could anyone get that far?"

"How the hell should I know?" Jack groused. "But that damned snake sure hasn't turned up on any of the sweeps down here..." He frowned at the report. "Looks like there's just been one incident, involving Sergeant Meyers."

"Who?" asked Sam.

"He's one of the Canadians stationed at NORAD, ma'am," the corporal supplied.

"Yeah," Jack said unhappily. "But all the report says is that someone stole a Santa suit out of his car."

"He was quite upset about that, sir," said the corporal, remembering the fit Meyers had thrown. "He was planning to play Santa at his kid's party after work tonight."

Sam, Daniel, and Teal'c all exchanged an uneasy glance. "Uh oh," Daniel said.

Jack looked at them, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Uh oh?" he repeated. "What do you mean, uh oh?"

"Well, when we were driving up, we saw a Santa out in the parking lot." Daniel shrugged at the disbelieving look Jack threw him. "Well, it is Christmas Eve," he added defensively. "There're a lot of Santas running around today. I didn't think anything of it."

"That happened just now?" Jack asked intently.

"Yeah."

"Then let's go!" Jack yelled over his shoulder as he bolted towards the elevators. "Maybe someone out there's spotted him."

The SG-1 team emerged from the mountain tunnel and ran smack into a tour group that seemed primarily composed of a Cub Scout troop and assorted chaperones. Jack made a beeline straight for the troop leader.

"Excuse me," he asked the startled man, "but have you seen a guy dressed like Santa Claus around here recently?"

The man blinked, then his confusion cleared. "Oh, yeah, Santa. I think Joannie Henderson picked him up. Hey, Rob," he called to one of the parents, "that was Joannie that picked up Santa Claus, wasn't it?"

Rob waved his arms over the heads of the milling Cub Scouts and nodded vigorously in confirmation.

"Okay," Jack said. "So do you know where she was going?"

"Yeah," said the troop leader. "She was headed to the mall to do a little last minute shopping."

"Great." Jack waved over a security guard, then asked the troop leader, "Sir, do you mind giving Sergeant Lewis here any details you can remember?" When the man nodded agreement, Jack turned and started jogging back to his team, tossing over his shoulder, "Thanks!" When he reached his teammates, he said, "Looks like Santa's gone to the mall to do some Christmas shopping."

"What are you talking about, sir?" asked Sam.

"He caught a ride to the mall. Geeze, Goa'uld hitchhikers. What will they think of next?" When his three teammates just stared at him, he pointed to his jeep and said, "Well, what are we waiting for? Over the river and through the woods, and all that jazz."

The mall was an over-decorated madhouse. Just looking at the crowds rushing in and out made Jack's teeth ache. The thought of actually going inside made him want to turn tail, like the most craven coward imaginable, and head for the proverbial hills. Except that in Colorado Springs, the hills weren't in the least bit proverbial, and given the number of outdoors enthusiasts that lived in the area, they were likely to be almost as crowded as the mall.

He squared his shoulders and led his team into the lion's den.

A few yards inside the sliding glass doors was an information desk manned by a single, bored looking clerk. Jack elbowed his way over and pushed up against the desk. "Excuse me," he said politely.

The clerk ignored him.

"Excuse me," Jack repeated, a little louder.

The clerk swiveled around, startled, and blinked owlishly. He removed the set of mini-headphones from his ears and said, "Yeah? Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for someone dressed as Santa Claus. Have you seen him?"

The clerk favored him with a derisive look. "Man, there's lots of Santas around today. Pick one."

"This Santa might have had glowing eyes," Jack admitted reluctantly.

"Oh, yeah, I remember him. Cool effect. Wonder how he did it?"

"So he did come here. Do you know where he went?"

"Sorry, man. He's out there somewhere." The clerk waved an arm at the overwhelming masses of last minute shoppers.

Daniel leaned forward and asked, "Can you tell us anything at all about him? Did he say anything? It might help us find him."

"Well, I think he was one of those nihilistic 'God is dead' kinda dudes. He wanted to know where Santa was, then said something about killing him for his dead God and took off."

"And you didn't call Security?" Daniel's voice was incredulous.

"Hey," the clerk protested, "do you have any idea how many religious nuts and pissed off parents there are on Christmas Eve who wanna kill Santa Claus? Can't call Security on all of 'em, you know."

"Right," Jack said sarcastically. On a hunch, he asked, "Can you tell us where the mall Santa is, then?"

"Sure, man." The clerk pointed into the crowd. "The North Pole stage is smack at the center of the mall. You can't miss it."

"Thanks." Jack turned to his team and said, "Looks like we've got our marching orders, kids. Come on."

"Why are we going to the mall Santa?" Sam asked.

"It's just a hunch," Jack shrugged. "The Goa'uld really seem to get into all that impressive royal stuff, and any mall's North Pole display is always set up to make Santa look important. If our snake buddy's out to kill Santa Claus, that's the one he'll choose."

Jack's assumption about the North Pole stage proved to be correct. It was a large area, enclosed within a low, white picket fence, and decorated with scattered drifts of plastic snow, several five-foot tall gingerbread men, and an abundance of oversized candy canes. At the center of the "North Pole," a large gilt throne sat upon a raised, circular dais, which was flanked on either side by life-sized statues of reindeer. A long line of impatient children and their even more impatient parents waited outside the fence.

Santa Claus was leaning against the throne, red-faced and holding his mouth with both hands. Two blonde women, dressed in green Christmas elf costumes, stood with their arms crossed facing Santa, their attitude clearly confrontational. Another elf, this one a brunette, stood behind a professional camera setup, looking just as annoyed as the blondes. Abruptly, Santa bolted off the stage and into one of the mall's many side alcoves.

"Wonder what's going on?" Daniel asked.

"Who cares? We'd better get after him," Jack said, jogging after Santa into the alcove, "and make sure the snakehead doesn't get to him first."

The short corridor led to a men's restroom. Daniel pushed open the door and went in, Teal'c following close behind. Sam started in, only to be stopped by Jack. "Now, Sam," he protested, pasting a patently false shocked expression on his face. "You know you can't go in there. It's the men's room, after all. Besides, someone's gotta keep watch out here." Grinning, he went in, allowing the door to swing shut on the outraged captain. "So, he in here?" he asked, gazing at the urinals lining the far wall.

"Last stall on the left," Daniel said, grimacing unhappily.

The retching sounds emanating from that particular stall explained Daniel's distasteful expression. Finally, the disgusting noises ceased, and Santa Claus emerged from the stall, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "All yers," he slurred happily, gesturing at the now empty stall, then fell flat on his face.

The three men still standing all stared first at one another, then at the man on the floor. Before anyone could utter a word, a woman pounded on the door and shouted, "This is the last straw, Eddie! You come out of there right now!"

A second woman yelled through the door, "Damn it, Eddie! We're not putting up with this garbage anymore! You hear me?" More pounding, then more shouting, "Julie's called the agency for a replacement, you jerk. Don't bother coming back!"

Then there was silence, broken only by the obnoxious sound of snoring.

"Oh, man, Santa's a lush," Jack groaned, staring down at the unconscious man.

"That is Santa Claus?" Teal'c asked, frowning. "How can he be here, when NORAD was tracking him over Australia less than two hours ago?"

Jack shrugged and looked at Daniel, who scratched his head in defeat. "Well, Teal'c, you see, that's not really Santa Claus. He just pretends to be Santa for the kids..."

"He pretends." Teal'c's frown deepened with disapproval. "You mean he is an impostor."

"You make that sound like a bad thing," Jack quipped.

Teal'c looked at him.

"Well, Teal'c, you can think of this guy as one of Santa's helpers," Daniel tried again. "It makes the kids happy to see Santa."

"He is intoxicated," Teal'c stated flatly.

"Yeah, that sucks," said Jack, dismissing the subject. "But it sounds like there's a replacement on the way, so it'll be okay. Now, we've got to concentrate on searching the area for that Goa'uld. He's bound to be lurking around here somewhere."

"We will have great difficulty locating Grenchah in these crowds. We should make him come to us," Teal'c said. "I shall bait the trap by impersonating Santa Claus. His assistants are expecting a replacement, so they will not be surprised by the appearance of an imposter. They will behave naturally, and Grenchah will be deceived into believing I am his quarry. Once he emerges from hiding to assassinate me, you can capture him."

Jack and Daniel gaped at him, openmouthed.

"Oh, that couldn't really work, could it?" Daniel asked.

"It's worth a shot," Jack said, kneeling down beside Santa. He started to pull the man's belt and coat off.

Daniel watched him, amused. "I can't believe you're rolling Santa Claus."

"Shut up, Jackson." Jack finished tugging off the coat. He stood up and held it out to Teal'c. "Here, try this on."

Teal'c obligingly slid his arms into the heavy velvet coat and fastened the front closed. "This is a most elegant garment," he commented, impressed. He stroked the white fur trim. "The real Santa Claus must be a very wealthy and powerful ruler."

"Oh. Yeah. Sure," Jack said, staring at Teal'c dubiously. The coat was a snug fit; it stretched tightly across Teal'c's shoulders and emphasized his muscular build. "Guess Santa wears a smaller size than you. Doesn't look like we'll be able to pad your stomach."

"Why would you wish to pad my stomach?"

"Well, Santa is supposed to be fat and jolly, and you're awfully athletic looking."

"I see."

Jack sighed and handed Teal'c the wide, black patent-leather belt. Teal'c dutifully buckled it around his waist and stood stiffly for inspection.

Daniel paced around him. "I don't think this is gonna work, Jack."

"Sure it is," Jack insisted. "It has to. Besides, it's only until we manage to flush that Goa'uld out of hiding."

"Yeah, but the olive-drab combat pants don't exactly go with the outfit."

"Right, like that actor's pants would fit Teal'c. We're lucky the coat even went over his shoulders." Jack retrieved the fake beard from the unconscious Santa stand-in and examined it. "Hey, we lucked out. This is one of those cheap-o beards that just hang over the ears." He demonstrated that fact by affixing the beard to Teal'c face, spending a little time adjusting it to hang evenly. Teal'c endured this treatment with quiet stoicism, merely raising a brow and casting Jack an enigmatic look.

Daniel stared at the apparition that stood before them: Teal'c, decked out in a red and white Santa jacket, black patent-leather belt, fluffy white beard, military fatigue pants and boots, and gold Jaffa tattoo. It boggled the mind. "I dunno, Jack..."

"Look, just stay with him and watch his back, okay? You can clue him in on what Santa does, too. I'll get Carter and go Goa'uld hunting. We'll set up surveillance posts near the North Pole, okay?" With that, Jack quickly made his escape from the men's room, practically running into Sam, who was waiting just outside the door.

"Well, what's going on in there?" she asked, a trace of annoyance lacing her voice. "And what were those elves yelling about?"

"It seems old Saint Nick's been tippling a bit," said Jack, with a wry twist to his lips. "He puked in the can and passed out."

"Ah. Well, that explains why the elves were so pissed."

"Anyhow, the plan is for Teal'c to take Santa's place, to try to draw our snake buddy out into the open."

"You're kidding?" asked Sam skeptically. "Teal'c's gonna do the mall Santa gig?"

"Yep. Don't worry, Daniel will be helping him."

"Oh, that sounds so much better," Sam said sarcastically. She scanned down the length of the mall. "What now, sir?"

"Well," Jack said, "if you were a Goa'uld in a Santa suit, trapped in a shopping mall on Christmas Eve with the expressed intention of killing Santa Claus, and being chased by the U.S. Air Force, where would you go?" He paused a moment and grinned maliciously. "We've already ruled out the men's room. So that only leaves one other option. The Christmas Store."

Sam stared at him as though he had sprouted antennae, then shook her head slightly and heaved an enormous sigh.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Relax, Carter, I'm kidding. We cover both sides of that North Pole stage there, and watch for our snakey assassin. You take that side," he gestured to the opposite side of the throne, "and I'll keep watch over here. Let's move out."

Sam nodded and sauntered over to find a good lookout point. Jack leaned against the wall and donned his best "bored husband waiting while the wife shopped" pose, surveying the mall for any Santas with glowing eyes.

A thoroughly dismayed Daniel watched the men's room door swing shut.

"Is there a problem, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asked.

"No," Daniel sighed, turning away from the door. "Everything's fine. Here, you can't do this without the hat." He pulled the red Santa hat over Teal'c's golden tattoo. He stood back, hands on hips, and examined his work unhappily. "Okay, that looks good. Now, say ho ho ho."

"Why should I say that?"

"Because Santa always says ho ho ho. Come on, try it."

"Ho ho ho," deadpanned Teal'c.

Daniel sighed again. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea, after all. "Teal'c, try to smile when you say that." Teal'c pulled the corners of his mouth up in his best imitation of a smile. In Daniel's opinion, the end result of that attempt was guaranteed to frighten any child under the age of thirty. "Okay, forget the smile. You'll do fine. I hope."

"I shall endeavor to suitably impersonate Santa Claus." With immense dignity, Teal'c picked up his staff weapon and stepped out from the restroom, then strode over to the North Pole stage, past the line of wide-eyed children, their parents, and the three speechless Christmas elves.

Daniel trailed helplessly after him. He had a sinking feeling about this whole thing, but smiled nervously at the startled elves and stammered, "Um, he's the replacement for... for..."

"Eddie?" one of the blondes prompted him.

"Yeah."

The Jaffa stepped up onto the dais and seated himself upon the throne in a show of regal grace. With his staff weapon held out to one side, and his rigid, upright bearing, Teal'c looked more like a warrior king than kindly Kris Kringle. "I am ready to begin," he announced.

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, praying for strength, then moved around behind the dais, where he could prompt Teal'c if necessary, while watching the opposite end of the mall for any stray Goa'ulds.

All three green-clad elves eyed Teal'c suspiciously. From behind her camera, the brunette elf asked, "Are you sure the agency sent you? Somehow, you don't seem quite right for the part."

"I assure you, I am fully prepared to assume the roles and responsibilities of Santa Claus," Teal'c gravely told her, stroking his beard with his free hand.

"Okay. Sure. Whatever." She shook her head and adjusted her camera to accommodate the new Santa Claus' height.

The other blonde snickered and walked over to the white picket fence, where the line of children waited impatiently. She opened the gate and took the first child, a little boy of approximately six years of age, by the hand and led him up the dais to the throne, then helped him to sit on Teal'c's lap. The boy's mother beamed at them and spoke softly to the elf photographer, who quickly took a picture.

The little boy stared at Teal'c. Teal'c stared back.

After a full thirty seconds, Daniel moved around to the side of the dais. He crouched down behind an oversized plastic candy cane in what he belatedly realized was a futile attempt to hide. The candy cane in question was all of four feet tall with a diameter of about an inch and a half, dimensions that were considerably shorter and narrower than his own. His brow wrinkled briefly, then he decided not to worry about it and returned his attention to Teal'c's little dilemma. He hissed, "Ask him his name, and what he wants for Christmas."

"What is your name?" Teal'c dutifully asked.

The little boy blinked wide, blue eyes. "Tommy."

"Tommy, what would you like for Christmas?"

Tommy perked up visibly at that question. He started ticking items off on his fingers, "I want a race car, and a Power Rangers action figure--the Red Ranger, 'cause he's the coolest--and a Furby..."

"A Furling?" Teal'c frowned his surprise at the peculiar request.

"No, a Furby."

"Oh. I see," Teal'c said, bemused. "You may continue."

Tommy grinned happily and bounced a little on Teal'c's knee. "Yeah, and I want a Sega, too."

"Very well. Is that all?"

Tommy looked a little disappointed and admitted, "My mommy said I shouldn't be too greedy."

"That is excellent advice," Teal'c said approvingly. "Your mother is to be commended for her wisdom."

Tommy stared at Teal'c. Teal'c stared back.

Daniel rolled his eyes and gripped the plastic candy cane he was hiding behind to keep himself from jumping on the dais and throttling Teal'c. He said in a penetrating stage whisper, "Teal'c, tell him you'll do your best, give him a piece of candy, and send him back to his mother."

At that particular moment, Teal'c's Goa'uld larva poked its head out through his jacket to see what was going on. It focused on Tommy, who stared at it in momentary shock. The larva uttered a tiny, inquisitive hiss.

Tommy shrieked and started to cry. The larva squealed in panic and zipped back inside the coat. Teal'c frowned at the crying child, unsure how to remedy the situation, then intoned, "Ho ho ho."

Daniel buried his head in his hands and groaned aloud.

Tommy's wails escalated dramatically. The other children, waiting less than patiently outside the picket fence, started sniffling, then crying as well, apparently out of sympathy for Tommy's distress. Soon all the children were howling at the top of their lungs, and all the parents were looking extremely hostile.

Daniel wondered if Santa Claus had ever been lynched by a mob before. There was always a first time for everything, he thought forlornly, resting his forehead against the plastic candy cane.

From his vantage point just within The Christmas Store, Grenchah watched the procession to the throne with great interest. Tall, imposing, and of an impressive build, Santa Claus moved with the grace and power of a natural born leader. His rich red and white garments and his full beard of purest white only served to further emphasize his aura of divinity.

Grenchah had realized quite early that the puling weakling who had been standing beside the throne earlier couldn't possibly have been the mighty Santa Claus. He wondered if perhaps he was another priest, preparing the populace for the god's arrival. Now, watching Santa Claus seat himself upon the throne with regal dignity, he congratulated himself on his perception. This man's commanding presence unmistakably marked him as the new Tau'ri god.

The line of children watched the god with amusing expressions of awe and excitement. The parents clutched their children's hands tightly, as though to prevent them from running off.

Grenchah wondered if the children were to be given to the god. The Goa'uld were often worshipped in such a manner; the local people required to offer their most beautiful progeny to become hosts to the gods. Perhaps Santa Claus had continued with that tradition. If he were not Goa'uld, he would not require hosts, but Grenchah remembered how Joannie had gone on about the toy shop at the North Pole. Perhaps the children were to become Santa Claus' personal servants. Such an explanation would account for the reactions of both the children and the parents.

One of the green-clad acolytes led a wide-eyed boy over to the throne and placed him on the god's lap. Grenchah nodded to himself; it seemed his theory about the disposition of the children was correct.

Santa Claus spoke quietly to the child, and listened to the response with a grave expression on his face. Suddenly, the child started shrieking in terror. The other children followed his example and also started screaming and crying. The adults stirred and murmured nervously, obviously disturbed by the turn of events. A few called out to the god and his acolytes. Grenchah didn't blame them for their fear. A situation like this could bring down the wrath of the god upon them all.

A situation like this was also a perfect opportunity for an assassin.

Taking advantage of the sudden disorder, Grenchah sprinted out into the open, heading straight for the throne. As he leapt over the low white fence, he pulled out his gun and aimed it unerringly at Santa Claus' head.

Daniel blinked in shock at the threatening figure that pounced before Teal'c and, incidentally, himself. Dressed in a Santa suit, pointing a zat gun in their direction, and eyes glowing menacingly, this could only be the Goa'uld they were searching for, Grenchah. It sure looked like using Teal'c as bait had worked out a little too well.

"Santa Claus!" Grenchah snarled dramatically, his trigger finger visibly twitching. "At last I shall avenge Ra! Prepare to meet your doom!"

Before the Goa'uld could activate the gun, before he registered the warning shouts from Jack and Sam, before he could even consider the stupidity of what he was doing, Daniel grabbed the plastic candy cane he was hiding behind and bolted out in front of Teal'c. He swung the candy cane in a wide arc, striking Grenchah's arm. The zat gun flew from the Goa'uld's hands and skittered across the floor, coming to rest in a large drift of plastic snow. Daniel swung the cane again, this time connecting with the Goa'uld's head, then pivoted with uncharacteristic grace and used the candy cane's curved end to hook Grenchah's legs out from under him. The Goa'uld assassin fell to the floor, landing flat on his back. Daniel reversed his hold on the candy cane and thrust the straight end under Grenchah's chin, effectively pinning him in place.

"Very good, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said from behind him, staff weapon in hand. "I see you are taking your self defense lessons quite seriously."

"No shit," Jack said as he and Sam also arrived on the scene. "Where'd you learn to do that, Daniel?"

Daniel stared down at the Goa'uld, who glared back at him with impotent fury. He started to shake as the adrenaline rush gradually dissipated. "I did that?" he asked weakly.

"I have been instructing Daniel Jackson in some of the finer points of staff weapon usage," Teal'c informed Jack and Sam, both of whom were still gaping at Daniel. "It is a most versatile weapon, even when its charge is completely spent. And such skills are easily transferred to more mundane objects."

"I'll say," said Sam, staring stupidly at the candy cane in Daniel's hands.

"Although somewhat clumsy during our training sessions, it appears that he has absorbed a great many of the staff techniques I have been teaching him."

"Yeah, and his reaction time's improved a bunch too, from the looks of things," Jack added, impressed. "Good job, Danny boy."

"Wow!" Tommy shouted. "That was so cool! Just like the Power Rangers!" The children pushed past the three professional soldiers and mobbed Daniel, oohing and ahhing at his derring-do. Still a little shaky, and finally realizing both the enormity and the stupidity of what he had just done--going up against a zat gun with a plastic candy cane!--Daniel made his way back to Santa's throne and sat down heavily. He rested his head in his hands and groaned.

While Teal'c held Grenchah at staff-point, Jack efficiently cuffed the Goa'uld, then pulled out his radio to call for reinforcements. That accomplished, he looked at the others and grinned. "It'll be about fifteen minutes or so before the troops arrive to take ol' Grenchah here into custody. Maybe by then Daniel'll be finished giving out autographs," he added, nodding his head at the befuddled anthropologist and the swarm of excited kids that still surrounded him.

Thank God the day was over, Jack mused as he steered his jeep through the dark and snowy back roads. It was probably the weirdest Christmas Eve he'd ever endured. Intense questioning of the snakehead had only added to the sense of unreality, providing all concerned with a great deal of amusement and fueling innumerable 'dumb alien' jokes. Who on earth or the SGC would have thought that anyone, even a Goa'uld, could possibly mistake Santa Claus for a god? Talk about bizarre.

Well, Grenchah was now safely in custody, the iris was repaired, and all was almost right with the world. Except that Jack O'Neill's carefully orchestrated plans for holiday avoidance had been rather unceremoniously scrubbed.

Once they'd returned to the SGC and made sure that their alien guest was secured, his team had cornered him in his office and compared notes about holiday plans. When they interrogated him-- the way they behaved, 'interrogated' was precisely the word that came to mind--and he revealed his intention to stay at the base, they had become surprisingly upset and annoyed with him.

Daniel in particular had been vehement in his insistence that Jack go home for Christmas, and wouldn't hear a word to the contrary. If nothing else, Daniel could be just as stubborn as a four-star general when it came to getting his own way, and just as deaf to anyone else's wishes. Jack was too tired for an argument, and simply gave in.

Once he'd extracted the promise from Jack that yes, he would go home tonight, the traitorous anthropologist had vanished, along with Sam and Teal'c. Okay, that was pretty obvious. They were planning some sort of surprise. Jack hoped it wasn't anything too elaborate; the day's events had exhausted him and all he wanted to do was fall into a bed--any bed--and sleep for a week.

He turned a corner and slammed on the brakes.

"What the hell is this?" Jack asked aloud as he found himself stopped at the end of a very long line of taillights. He craned his neck, trying to see what might be causing the traffic problem. About two or three blocks ahead, there was a flickering, multicolored glow of light. He made a face and grumbled in exasperation. It looked like some idiot had put on one of those monster yard displays this year, and it was attracting a myriad of lookie-loos from miles around. The guilty party was going to be extremely unpopular with the neighbors for a while. Trapped in a traffic jam in his own neighborhood, Jack didn't feel the slightest bit of sympathy for the miscreant.

It took almost half an hour to drive three miserable blocks, but at last his house crawled into view. And Jack suddenly wished that it hadn't. "Oh, for crying out loud..."

His house was blanketed in lights, from the foundation to the top of the chimney, where a mechanical Santa, complete with sleigh and an entire team of reindeer, waved down at him. The front yard was also awash with lights, and prominently featured a large, elaborate Nativity scene, with back lighting and a glowing Christmas star mounted above on the gutter. Long strings of lights streamed down from the eight pointed star to just behind the manger in imitation rays. Incongruously, a few yards away from the religious scene stood an enormous Frosty the Snowman light sculpture, accessorized with scarf, top hat, and broomstick.

'Merry Christmas' was spelled out in lights on the garage door. Other phrases, written in languages that Jack couldn't begin to understand, also twinkled merrily all over his house. He guessed that they must all be variations on things like 'Season's Greetings' and 'Merry Christmas.' One of those blinking, arcane phrases looked suspiciously like Abydonian. "Daniel..." he growled, finally managing to get through the line of cars and pull into his own driveway.

As if all this wasn't quite enough, the music of Christmas carols filled the air, the speakers hidden somewhere in the bushes.

In spite of himself, he had to admit that it was a terrific decorating job. Even Rudolph's nose glowed.

He didn't dare open the garage, for fear of damaging something electrical and possibly setting the entire neighborhood on fire, so instead he just parked in the driveway. As he stepped out of his jeep, he noticed with disgust that the drive and walkways had been lined with oversized plastic candy canes. Strings of gaily colored lights connected the canes and lit the way to the front door.

So this was why his team had wanted him to go home. Maybe he could get them arrested for vandalism? It would serve them right. He considered the idea for a moment, then reluctantly banished it from his thoughts. They had meant well.

Then he thought about what his electric bill would look like next month, and his nascent sentimentality vanished.

Jack took a deep breath and looked back at the street. Crowds of people stood on the sidewalk, gawking and pointing and, incredibly, singing along to the music. Some even had cameras. And a never-ending stream of cars continued to roll slowly by. He was tempted to yell at them to go away, but finally decided that, while it might make him feel better, it wouldn't do a whole lot of good. The only thing he could do was go in and try to figure out how to shut the whole thing off before it took the local power grid down.

When he stepped into the living room he was greeted with warmth and a blaze of light. The entire room was decorated with evergreens, tinsel, and lights. A tall Christmas tree stood against one wall. Four glasses, along with some green and red napkins, sat upon the coffee table. A fire crackled cheerily at the hearth, and the delicious smell of baking gingerbread wafted in from the kitchen.

Sam and Teal'c stood before the tree, watching as he looked around his transformed living room. Sam was wringing her hands, looking a little edgy. Teal'c was as stiff and impassive as ever.

"Hi, Jack," Daniel called cheerfully, emerging from the kitchen with a plate of cookies and a carton of eggnog. He set them on the coffee table. "Well, what do you think?"

"I'm speechless," the colonel replied with complete honesty.

"Glad to hear you're not mad, sir," Sam said. "It just seemed like a good idea?"

"Hey, what's a little breaking and entering between friends?" Jack quipped. "Was this your idea?"

"No, actually, it was Daniel's. Teal'c and I just helped."

Daniel picked up the carton and started pouring eggnog into the glasses. "Hey, we needed a Christmas party. That's one thing I really miss about Abydos."

Jack eyed him curiously. "Christmas parties?"

"Not Christmas parties per se, but they were always holding celebrations for some reason or another. I thought we could do with one ourselves."

"Especially after today," Jack agreed.

"Too bad Sam wouldn't let me put up the mistletoe, though."

"Nobody's putting up mistletoe while I'm around!" Sam said indignantly. "Now, after I leave..."

"Wouldn't be any fun, then."

Casting an evil grin at Daniel, Sam turned to Jack and slyly asked, "By the way, did you like the light show outside?"

When Jack hesitated, Teal'c said, "Daniel Jackson spent a great deal of time arranging the display."

"It's... nice," he replied diplomatically. "I could do without the traffic jam, though." Jack walked over to the tree and openly admired it. He leaned in to look at one of the ornaments, then wrinkled his nose and sniffed. "Does anyone smell smoke?"

"That would be from when I set fire to the tree, O'Neill," Teal'c admitted before Sam could shush him.

"You set fire to the tree? In my house?"

"Don't worry, sir," said Sam. "We put it out before anything got damaged."

"Anything else I should know about?" Jack asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

The power flickered and went out, plunging the house into darkness that was barely relieved by the light from the fireplace. "Oh, for crying out loud. What next?" Jack moaned, and fumbled around in a drawer until he found a flashlight.

Sam peered through the curtains. "Oh, wow, I think the entire neighborhood's blacked out. Wonder what caused that?"

Jack bit his lip and flicked on the flashlight, focusing the beam right in Daniel's face. "Yeah, I wonder," he said, staring pointedly at the anthropologist.

Daniel squinted at the sudden light, then held out the gaudy carton, not a trace of apology marring his features. "Care for some eggnog?"

Jack stared at him for a moment, speechless, then accepted the carton and took a long swig from it. The humor of the entire situation finally got to him. He threw a companionable arm around Daniel's shoulders and started to laugh, somewhat hysterically.

"Merry Christmas, Jack," Daniel grinned.

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