Title: Crystal Blue Persuasion

Author: Wonderland

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, wish I did, you know who does, yadda, yadda, yadda

Summary: Missing Scene, ‘1969’

Season/Spoiler info: 1969

Author’s Notes: A 1969 Mickey Mantle New York Yankee baseball card currently lists for $900. And I remember an episode of MacGyver where he played a nerdy card collector with geeky glasses…

Crystal Blue Persuasion

“Oh, man,” I crow, hitting the volume button. “I love this song!” From the jump seat, Daniel rolls his eyes at me; his knowledge of sixties music wavers between pathetic and the Beatles. He knows squat about bands like Tommy James and the Shondells. “I can’t believe you’ve never heard this one.”

Daniel slouches, props his boots up on the dash, his bell-bottoms and his hair blowing in the wind through the window. I have to admit, he fits in the sixties pretty well. “You know I don’t do this kind of music.”

“What, classic rock?”

“This is classic? It makes no sense whatsoever.” He cocks his head, listens to the words.

“That’s what was so great about the sixties; everyone was makin’ love, smokin’ dope and writin’ music.” I explain carefully. “The songs either had tons of meaning or made no sense at all.”

“And that’s a pro or a con?” He queries sarcastically.

“What year did you say you were born in?”

“Sixty-five, as you well know. This stuff is all before my time.” Those eyes are a wicked blue now. Most people totally don’t get him; his sense of humor is decidedly barbed.

And when they went to pick out clothes, he confessed to not really remembering bell-bottoms, since at that time, his jammies still had feet in them. Carter’s did, too, but for some reason, I always think of her as being older than Daniel, not younger. This, naturally, leads her to be somewhat short tempered when I thoughtlessly shared this opinion. Verbally, if you know what I mean. You’d think a guy who had been married once would know enough not to go blithely into this minefield, but blithely I went and incurred her wrath.

I am also somewhat pissed at Daniel. He refused to let me rake in some extra spending money by what he considered nefarious means: betting on sporting events. The fact that I now know who’s gonna win most of these means I’m not technically gambling, since I’m wagering on a sure thing, not on a chance. But his conspicuous conscience refuses to see it my way.

If it hadn’t been for Junior, I actually wouldn’t mind sticking around 1969. At least until the World Series. I mean, I could make a killing! Who would think the Mets would trounce the Orioles in four games? I could make enough to get a great house, buy a car, set us up just right. The kids could go to college, again, and Teal’c and I could mow the grass and go fishing. We could be the original dysfunctional family.

But Carter and Daniel prevail and all I have left of 1969 is a really cool leather jacket with a mint condition ’69 Mantle tucked carefully in the pocket. Hey, what the kids don’t know won’t hurt ‘em. I don’t think one little old baseball card is going to change the course of the world. I mean, come on, these cards sell for nearly a grand! As soon as we’re cleared, I’m off tuck this baby in a safety deposit box and wait for the price to go up.