Chapter Text
Family reunions were awkward affairs for George Hammond. Not because he didn't get along with his family, but because of who part of that family is. One branch, in particular, was something he could never mention in a professional setting, especially around people like Colonel Carter and Doctor Jackson, or any academic, for that matter.
No one with a brain admitted to having Jack Fenton as a cousin.
Of course, there wasn't much he could do about it this time, he mused, watching Samantha Carter sweep her gaze back and forth across the crowd of distant relatives. For whatever reason, his superiors had decided he needed a bodyguard, and Carter had volunteered. So now here they were, and it was a miracle that Carter hadn't already lost all respect for him. A miracle in the form of the Fentons-bar Alicia, the sane one-not having shown up yet. A miracle that turned to dust in his mouth when the familiar rumble of a definitely illegal engine and squealing of rubber announced the arrival of that damned RV.
Hammond sighed as Carter's eyes went wide in shock, and he nodded dejectedly at the look she sent him. Well, that professional relationship would be strained.
Hammond stayed clear of the throng surrounding Jack and Maddie, clad in their usual hazmat suits and waving around their latest "research" into ghosts. Normally he'd be all for humoring the pair, if only so they wouldn't bug him later, but with Carter right there, well, it was embarrassing enough. Instead, he kept his eyes open for... there!
Hammond smiled and waved at the two kids edging around the group of adults, who waved back and ambled their way over. Well, Danny ambled, hands in their pockets and slouched like the typical lazy teen, while Jazz stood straight, almost business-like in how she surveyed the crowd, her stride long and purposeful. Somehow, they managed to keep pace with each other despite their conflicting way of moving.
"Danny, Jazz, good to see you," Hammond greeted them, smiling.
"Hello General," Jazz greeted him, smiling brightly at him.
"Hey, Uncle Hammond," Danny greeted him, icy blue eyes twinkling with mischief, "nice date."
Carter burst into laugher at that, damn her, surprised guffaws breaking free, while Jazz slapped the back of Danny's head. "Ow! You were thinking it too," Danny muttered, rubbing the spot she'd hit.
"Danny, Jazz, this is Colonel Samantha Carter, my," he sighed, "bodyguard."
Carter smiled, composing herself, and nodded to them. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Danny and Jazz both cocked their heads to the side, looking at her in a way anyone familiar with Jack Fenton would recognize. Hammond just sighed and waited for them to come up with whatever they were trying to remember, taking silent pleasure in Carter's look of concern.
"What-?"
"Ph.D. in Astrophysics, papers on quantum mechanics," Jazz drawled out eventually, nodding to herself.
Danny snapped their fingers. "We used your dissertation to fix Mom and Dad's dimensional equations."
The two kids nodded to themselves and were suddenly back to being perfectly normal teenagers while carter was blinking in confusion.
"So, General," Jazz asked, and Hammond resisted the urge to sigh. Jazz always called him that at these things, mostly because it exasperated him, and while she was easily the most mature of the Fentons, she and Danny had mischievous streaks a mile long. "How's fighting illegal aliens going?"
Carter shot him a look and Hammond rolled his eyes. "I'm not fighting illegal aliens. I'm in a deskjob, maintaining a defunct base. We've been over this."
"A defunct base with an intermittent wormhole in the basement," Danny commented smugly, and Hammond couldn't help the instinctive stiffening or his eyes snapping down to meet theirs. "Jazz and I fixed Mom and Dad's dimensional equations, and decided to modify some of their sensors. You've got an intermittent, stable, multi-destination subspace tunnel in your basement, never for very long."
"Probably to do with the exponential power curve involved in such an endeavor," Jazz added, both Hammond and Carter looking at her now. "Crossing interstellar distances isn't trivial, after all, and the wormhole becomes more difficult to maintain over time due to how it curves subspace."
"Plus, the interference from the Antarctica sight can't be helping matters," Danny muses. "Probably should look into shutting one device down to make operation easier."
"Wait, Antarctica?" Carter interrupted. "Sir, since when do we have an Antarctica site?"
Hammond sighed. "We don't, and you just blew any chance of convincing them they're wrong. Speaking of which," he refocused on the two teens, "what do you want?"
"We want in, obviously," Jazz replied for them. "We'll trade the Antarctica coordinates for being part of your program."
Hammond thought it over. "...no one will want your parents read into this."
"So don't tell them," Danny offered. "Explain it as 'a research scouting program, focusing on the up and coming minds of the generation.' They'll sign off without even reading the contract."
"And of course we'll abide by any NDAs you need us to sign, though we hope to be part of the public market efforts of exploiting any technology you bring back," Jazz added on. "We know how to handle difficult and dangerous tech, Uncle George, you know that."
Hammond did know that. He also knew that, if he refused, they'd find a different way to get involved, without adult supervision, and there were quite enough UFO sightings over their town, thank you. "...fine."
"Sir?" Carter protested, more out of surprise than anything else.
"We'll need to discuss specifics later, but consider this a provisional agreement," Hammond expanded. He let out a just of air, feeling a headache building. "I'm going to regret this. Let's go talk to Jack and Maddie."
"...wait, they're the Fenton's children?" Carter asked, and Hammond had to chuckle at that. This would be a headache, he could tell.
It would also be a lot of fun.