[personal profile] emeraldsnakes
emeraldsnakes: (Hockey - Flyers - Universe)
Title: Stockholm Syndrome
Series: Technically set in the same 'Verse as camshaft22's SG1 Blackhawks AU
Fandom(s): Stargate SG-1/Hockey RPF
Pairing(s): n/a
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,655
Summary: Jack’s had tickets to the Blackhawks vs Capitals game since the schedule was released and his clone became a part of the Hawks permanent roster.
Notes: Written for Stargateland's final phase Crossover Challenge!
Content Warnings: n/a

Jack rarely got to go to any hockey games outside of Washington. Too much happened in the office and the Stargate Program that he had to be on call for and he couldn’t just take off to Chicago or some other city any time he wanted to. It was a good thing he’d become such a big Washington Capitals fan since he’d moved up, though he’d never admit it was partially because he’d met Alexander Ovechkin in a bar once or twice...or a lot.

Jack’s had tickets to the Blackhawks vs Capitals game since the schedule was released and his clone became a part of the Hawks permanent roster. It’ll be the first Hawks game he’d have been able to get to since Jon’s NHL debut and he was both excited and jealous to watch him play again.

He was also a little nervous about after the game because they’d made plans to grab a beer since the Hawks didn’t have to take off until the next morning for their game against the Hurricanes. Jack hadn’t had a face to face conversation with the kid in five years, not including the congratulations after the debut game.

The game itself was intense. Though the Hawks and Caps didn’t have a long standing history as rivals, being in different conferences and only meeting once a year, every hockey team was a rival. They didn’t lose all sanity and descend into an all out brawl but there was more than the usual amount of penalty minutes handed out.

Jack cheered like an idiot when Jon got an assist on Andrew Shaw’s goal, swore like a sailor when Green laid a big hit on him at center, then laughed when Jon later retaliated by checking Ovechkin behind the net in the Hawks zone. Something happened after that, Jack figured, because Jon and Ovie started hitting each other more, Ovie got a slashing penalty against Jon and Jack could see, when they were replayed on the jumbotron, the maniac and gleeful way they were yelling at each other.

When the game ended the Hawks had won 4-1 and Jon had managed to register a second assist for the night.


“Jack!” he heard Ovie’s voice before he saw him, but once Jack knew he was coming it wasn’t hard to spot the 6’3” Russian bounding up to him. “You come to watch me play, and win.”

Jack rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling. While not the reason he’d attended the game, Jack couldn’t deny that watching Alex play wasn’t a factor in why he’d chosen to watch the Hawks play in Washington and not some other east coast city.

“You lost,” Jack pointed out.

“But I score, so I win.” Ovie elaborated in that way he did when the Caps lost.

Jack snorted and quickly glanced to see if Jon was out yet. He’d been waiting for the little twerp for what seemed like an exceptionally long time.

Ovie seemed to finally realize where they were, because he started looking at Jack curiously, “Why you here?”

“Well, there was a hockey game that just happened. That might be it,” Jack replied with a shrug.

Ovie gave him a look that told him he thought he was an idiot. “I mean why you down here. I not get you clearance.”

Jack wanted to reply that he was a Major General who’d saved the world’s collected asses more times than they knew it was in danger of being obliterated and that he didn’t need Alex to get him clearance anywhere. He wanted to tell Alex that his clearance was so damn high it took him to space on multiple occasions. Fortunately he didn’t get the opportunity to run his mouth.

“Hey Old Man!”

Jack and Ovie turned towards the locker room the Hawks were using to see Jon coming towards them.

Jack grinned, “Mini Me!”

He ignored the way Ovie was looking between himself and his clone in favour of checking out the suit Jon wore. It actually looked really good on him, Jack was surprised and at loathed to admit. It probably drew all the girls to him.

“You look good,” Jack said after several moments of awkward silence.

“You still look old,” Jon replied. “Is it just me, or are you losing your hair?”

Jon reached up to….whatever - fondle Jack’s hair or something and Jack batted his hand away, “I lied. You still look sixteen and there’s some kind of mop on your head.”

Jon pursed his lips and Jack pursed his lips and they stared at each other, ignoring Ovechkin who was still looking between them with curiosity.

Eventually Ovie got tired of their refusal to back down from one another and decided to state the obvious.

“Jack, he look just like you except tiny.”

Jon broke their gaze first to snap, “I am not tiny!”

Ovie grinned triumphantly, “You very tiny. I surprised I not break you.”

Jack covered his mouth to try and smother his laugh as Jon’s face clouded over in annoyance.

“Break me? You think you have want it takes to hurt me? Dude, I wasn’t even this fit when I was in the Ai-“ Jon’s mouth snapped shut and his face became carefully blank.

Jack dropped his hand and scowled but he watched Ovie’s face closely. Slips were probably normal for Jon, little things that could be explained away by a crazy life, a crazy family or simply by the fact that he’d been an emancipated minor. What’d he been about to blurt out though, that couldn’t have been explained. It could have been ignored - forcefully - but it would still have been out there and still have been a security risk.

Ovie was frowning at Jon and giving him a probing look but Jon stood his ground and kept silent. Jack wasn’t sure if Ovie had picked up on what Jon’d almost said (improbably but Jack had been privy to some of Ovie’s ridiculous theories so it wasn’t impossible) or if he was thinking something entirely different. Jack could usually read Ovie’s face pretty well but sometimes he could never figure out what the crazy Russian was thinking.

“You’re like Jack, very weird,” Ovie said eventually and then frowned at Jack, “You told me you had no kids.”

“He’s my nephew,” Jack said easily, adding, “so they tell me.”

“We don’t acknowledge it,” Jon put in, looking serious.

Ovie blinked, then laughed.

“Sanja!” Alexander Semin had just as much exuberance as Ovie, even for a loss, and came running into Ovie but only with enough force to make him stumble. “Come on, you can talk to your boy friend later. We’re going out; drown our sorrows.”

“Sasha, don’t be rude,” Ovie admonished his teammate.

“Its fine,” Jack interrupted. “Go on, Mini Me and I have plans anyway.”

“You lucky,” Ovie muttered to Sasha, pushing him away, and added to Jack, “I text you later and we talk about why you keep secret.”

Jack rolled his eyes, “Alright.”

“By Sanja,” Jon added sweetly, smirking, and wiggling his fingers in a sort of good-bye wave.

“Иди на хуй!”

Jack and Jon remained where they stood for a moment, watching them leave.

“You know, if we were still on the ice, I’d have turned that into a ‘Your Momma’ joke,” Jon stated.

Jack snorted, “Lame.”

“Oh like you can come up with something better,” Jon scoffed. He nudged Jack toward the exit they’d need to get to Jack’s car. “Seriously, equating my hair to a mop? Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

“Setesh Guard snot.”

Jon fish gaped. Jack smirked.

“Fuck you,” Jon snapped. “That joke’s not even funny!”

Jack continued to smirk, knowing he’d totally won that.


“So,” Jon started, leaning back into his seat, “Alexander Ovechkin.”

“What about him?” Jack replied evenly. Fuck, he did not want to have this conversation with his clone.

“I don’t know. You two seemed pretty chummy.”

Jack took a long drink of his beer, trying to stall but he could see from the look on Jon’s face that he wasn’t getting out of it. Jon wanted to know what made Ovechkin different from all the other Russians Jack didn’t get along with. Jon wanted to know why Jack had decided to be more than civil.

“I like him,” he eventually said.

“I could see that,” Jon replied annoyed. “Does Daniel know?”

Jack frowned, “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean does he know that the secret to you making friends with anyone is hockey?”

Jack scowled, “A beer once in a while does not make us friends.”

“No, but the fact that he has your cell number does,” Jon shot back.

Jon shook his head, “Whatever. Its not the Russian thing, if that’s what you’re worried about. I may not play with one, but there’s enough of them, and other Europeans who used to be part of the Soviet Union, that I’ve evolved from that kind of thinking. Nice to see you’ve started to too.”

“You’re so kind,” Jack deadpanned.

Jon smirked, “You’re welcome. But really, of all the Russians to befriend after realizing we were kind of racist, it had to be the one with the biggest ego?”

“I like him,” Jack repeated. Yes, Alex had an ego and Jack didn’t normally stand people like that, but Alex wasn’t just ego. He was a good guy, prone to being a dick from time to time - but then, who wasn’t - but Jack had a good time when they grabbed a beer and hung out. It was enough for him.

“Alright,” Jon conceded. “But if you start waxing poetry about him and the Capitals I’m going to start thinking he kidnapped you and only let you go free because you developed Stockholm Syndrome.”

“Well, he did pull an exceptionally beautiful and sick move on your goalie tonight.”

Jon’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh shit.”
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