Dennari had moved Jack out of the tavern after the second time Jack started a fight with one of the customers, so Jack helped Teal'c shovel manure in the side yard, while Daniel hustled drinks and filched bread crusts from the tables, which they shared in the barn after everyone else had gone to bed.
They had tried--desperately--to keep track of where they were, but the slave trade was extensive, and they'd changed hands several times, if always as a team, for which Jack would have said a rosary every night, if he'd had one; Dennari wasn't the worst by far, but he was dumb as a stump and had never seen the Stargate, much less passed through it.
The point was, they had no fucking idea where they were, and they were down to their last scrap of grit, or hope, or just rage-fueled refusal to die--when Jack looked over the fence and saw John Fucking Sheppard strolling down the lane, with an Atlantis patch on his shoulder and that eight-foot-tall Runner at his side.
SG-1, Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c -- lost who knows where
They had tried--desperately--to keep track of where they were, but the slave trade was extensive, and they'd changed hands several times, if always as a team, for which Jack would have said a rosary every night, if he'd had one; Dennari wasn't the worst by far, but he was dumb as a stump and had never seen the Stargate, much less passed through it.
The point was, they had no fucking idea where they were, and they were down to their last scrap of grit, or hope, or just rage-fueled refusal to die--when Jack looked over the fence and saw John Fucking Sheppard strolling down the lane, with an Atlantis patch on his shoulder and that eight-foot-tall Runner at his side.