Slayer vs Stargate - Story 5: Slayer vs Stargate

[misse]

Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Stargate

Note: French used in this story comes from an online translator. I have had someone go over it, but any errors that remain are mine.

Note: //speech// - foreign language

Chapter One - When Old Friends Drop In

As battles went, it was on the larger side. Reinforcements had been called in, and over forty slayers were involved, including the Chosen Two. Walking into the fight, they had expected a field of about two hundred demons. Odds of five-to-one weren't pleasant, but they were do-able. Best laid plan of mice and slayers being what they were, just shy of five hundred demons had been seen to enter the field. The witches stood at the edge of the field, guarded by the watchers, and did what they could to even the odds.

After several hours, they were down to less than a hundred demons still fighting, while they had lost only a few to injuries, and none had actually died, simply been removed from the field to the cars by the witches, and then driven back to headquarters by a watcher. The only problem now, apart from the demons yet to be slain, was the five metre wide gully the demons had created around the ritual site and the severely truncated timeline before the end of the ritual.

Faith looked around the battleground. Buffy was off to her left, and slightly behind, battling something big, furry, and ferociously ugly. Ahead of her was a group of slayers relatively free of opponents. More important to Faith was the sight of the tall, white-haired slayer already running to the gully. “Gwen,” she bellowed to the running woman. As soon as she saw the woman glance over her shoulder, Faith threw the Scythe, point first, to her. The woman kept running but sheathed her swords in the scabbards crossed over her back, not looking back, not stopping to catch the weapon. Faith watched, frowning slightly. She knew how the other woman would respond. There was something special about her, even for a slayer. Then, just as the white-haired woman reached the gully, she glanced over her shoulder again, and put out her hand. In one swift move, she launched out over the gully, first of all the slayers heading to the ritual. Without noticeably looking, her hand closed around the staff of the Scythe. And then she disappeared.

~~~~~

Xander paced as he waited for the slayers to return. Just because there was major bad going on elsewhere didn't mean that the girls could be abandoned. He'd had to stay back to make sure no one took advantage of the absence of the older slayers to attack the children. While everyone else was out at the battle, he had the sole care and protection of eighteen nine-to-fourteen year-olds that the Council had decided were too young to fight anything bigger than a fledge. He also had the task of coordinating everything back at the base. So far, nothing had happened, but he wasn't about to tempt fate by verbalising anything. The infirmary was ready, Council doctors on standby, including the ones that the imported slayers had brought with them. Medical histories had been considered, and all was ready. Even the kitchen was ready with food for the returning slayers. He could only hope they would be home soon, and in as close to one piece as possible. Waiting! He hated it.

He tensed as he heard the first vehicles roar into the parking area, then ran out to greet them. The first Watcher was already out of the driving seat, and hauling an injured slayer out of the rear seat to dump her onto the first available gurney, before diving back in to retrieve a witch slumped in the middle seat. The slayer had disturbingly deep claw marks down one cheek, and what looked suspiciously like a broken jaw. Xander ran around to the other door to retrieve another slayer while a second witch fell out the front door. He glanced back to the witch, but decided that she was simply exhausted, and not in need of medical attention. He handed the injured slayer to a paramedic, then turned back to the witch. He picked her up and carried her to one of the bunks set aside for exhausted, but otherwise uninjured, witches while the watcher hopped back into the vehicle to race back out to the battlefield. Absently, Xander wondered about the feasibility of getting some helicopters, but then the next SUV was there, and he was helping the injured out onto gurneys to be taken into triage, and then treatment.

Hours passed, and finally all the wounded slayers had been attended to. Thirteen, in all, had needed serious attention, with another nineteen needing basic first aid. All the witches, Willow included, were asleep in the special rooms set aside for their recoveries. The Watchers had headed off to clean up and blow off some steam. Thankfully, no one had been lost, but some of the watchers had badly wounded slayers, and were understandably tense. Xander wandered through building, the feeling that something was wrong nagging at him. Up ahead, he saw Buffy and Faith engaged in an intense conversation, Buffy gesturing wildly, Faith obviously tense. Seeing the two women talking pointed out what was wrong, causing his stomach to clench in anticipation. Frowning, he walked up to them.

“Hey Buff, Faith, so where's Gwen?”

Buffy scowled as she turned to him. “That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out. According to Faith, she just took the Scythe and left.”

“Hey now,” the brunette protested, “that's not what I said. I said she disappeared when she touched the Scythe.” She turned to Xander, worried. “I swear, I don't know what happened. She was heading over to the ritual – hell! – she was leading the way! I had the Scythe, and knew it would be of way more use over there, so I gave her the heads up and tossed it to her. She got it just as she leapt out over the ditch, but as soon as she touched it, she just ...” Faith trailed off, shaking her head. “She just disappeared!”

Xander folded his arms over his chest, a cavern seeming to open up inside him. He shook his head. “Disappeared – what? Where?”

“Mid-air,” Faith replied. “No big, flashy portal, no flash of light, just … gone.”

“So do you think there was any chance of a set up? That she planned to disappear as soon as she got the Scythe today?” Buffy demanded.

“How the hell could she plan that?” Faith all but screeched. “There was no guarantee she would get the Scythe. Hell! Nine times out of ten, the only people that use it are B and me. What I saw was her running to the next fight, leading the way, and then she was gone. And I have no idea where she is, what happened, anything!”

“Okay. Well, we can't do anything now until Will wakes up, so go get something to eat and relax somehow. We'll figure this out,” Xander added as he rubbed his face. 'We have to,' he added silently.

~~~~~

Colonel Jack O'Neill looked around at his team, noting they were all present and ready to move out. All they were waiting for now was their final go ahead to move up the ramp to the gate. His eyes were caught by a sudden movement above his head, as something flew through the air, and rebounded off the wall behind him. The team dodged quickly out of the way as something fell straight down on top of them, and then spun to hear something hit the ramp, hard. Jack slung his P90 back as he ran towards the girl sprawled across the bottom of the ramp, unconscious. She looked no older than one of the Academy cadets, dressed for hiking, and covered with goop. She was bleeding from her lip, and a series of cuts that had to have come from the mesh-work of the ramp surface. He checked quickly for a pulse, and noted she was still breathing. He began to check for broken bones, but was soon set aside by the medical team. He let them do their thing, eventually removing the girl from the ramp to take her back to the base infirmary.

“So, Carter,” he began, “any ideas?”

“None whatsoever. She definitely didn't come through the Stargate. Apart from the fact that it's one way only, I think she only appeared about a six to ten feet from the wall, nowhere near the Gate. She must have been travelling at some velocity – she rebounded further than I think the travelled in the Gate Room,”

Jack looked at the spot where the girl had landed. He could see some long white strands laying across the metal. They must have caught on something when she landed, and been torn loose. But then, losing a few hairs had to be the least of her worries at the moment.

~~~~~

“Okay,” Sam announced to the group, “I'm going to play this at normal speed the first time, and then I'll replay it at one eighth speed so we can see the detail. Try to keep an eye out, because it's really quick – it only takes a couple of seconds at normal speed.” She played the surveillance recording, and they watched the blur start high in the air, hit the wall, and then bounce back to land at the ramp. Apart from the confusion of white and khaki, there wasn't much detail to be had in the initial view. Even when she slowed the recording down, it still seemed to happen very quickly. The white-haired girl appeared mid-air, as if leaping across something. Jack decided the girl's reactions had to be phenomenally quick, because between appearing mid-air, and the collision with the wall, which had to have happened only a second or so later, she had dropped her weapon, and twisted her body to get her feet 'under' her to take the impact. From there, she had rebounded in an uncontrolled, tumbling arc to the floor. Just as Sam had surmised, she had covered a greater distance on the second half of her journey than on the first. She had tried to get her arms up to break her fall – Jack winced at the landing.

“I have no idea at this time how she entered the Gate Room. She appeared, just as the tapes show, and I've viewed this from every camera that we have. One moment she's not there, and then she is. At a rough estimate, she was travelling in excess of 20 miles per hour when she entered the Gate Room.”

The General nodded. “Doctor, can you let us know how our guest is?”

“Remarkably unscathed. Watching that video, I'm actually surprised she's still alive, or at least not a great deal more injured! Both her forearms are broken, a fact we only noticed after we began removing her weapons, I might add. That said, we didn't have to try to set the bones, as the knives had held the bones in position quite nicely.” She shook her head at the thought.

“Uh, Doc,” Jack interrupted, “knives?”

Janet cleared her throat. “Yes, knives. She had two swords strapped across her back, a hunting knife at her waist, and a knife strapped to each forearm. Oh, and a knife in each boot. There may be other weapons, but I haven't really bothered to check her backpack.

“I have no explanation,” she shrugged, before going on. “Other than her arms, she has a skull fracture, and deep bruising and superficial cuts where her face impacted with the ramp. And that's it,” she finished, shrugging again. “No other cuts, minimal bruising, no apparent internal injuries. I find it very hard to believe, but, essentially, she has very minor injuries from her fall.”

Jack nodded, then looked to Danny. “No weapons in her backpack. Two sets of clothes, including good socks,” Jack nodded to himself over the importance of good socks, “wallet with money and id, Euros, not US dollars, and the id was the security type that doesn't have any name, just photo and proximity pass. I-pod with – what was it, Danny? French stuff?”

“Ah, yes. The I-pod had French language music, amongst other stuff.” He shifted before continuing. “I had a look at the axe – it doesn't actually resemble anything historical, and besides, it's in too good condition to be even antique. The red lacquer on the blade should have crazed or chipped or something by now. So I would consider it fairly new. At the same time ...” he trailed off, shaking his head. After a moment, he continued. “I wouldn't mind a look at her weapons, though. That could be interesting.”

The General considered for a moment. “So we have a possible French citizen appearing in the most secure part of a top secret military base by means unknown, carrying old-fashioned weapons, but weapons none-the-less, and surviving a crash landing that should have put her seriously out of commission or even killed her. Would that be a good summary?” The others nodded. He turned to the doctor. “When do you anticipate she will awaken?”

Janet shook her head. “That was a pretty good knock, and I've also given her something for the pain. She should be asleep for a few hours yet. I'll advise you when she's conscious again.” The doctor collected her things and left the meeting.

The General turned back to the team. “Well, SG-1, looks like your mission is suspended until further notice. Daniel, you speak French, so you will possibly be our primary contact with this young woman. Carter, I'd like you to be the friendly female face. See if you can get her to open up a bit. Jack, Teal'c, I need you to keep an eye on her. She was carrying an unusual amount of weapons, even if they were ones we don't normally see. On the off chance she is trained and experienced in combat, I want you to … be around. You don't have to hover, probably better that you don't. You may not realise this,” he added with a small smile, “but you can be rather intimidating.”

Jack gasped, as if shocked.

~~~~~

She felt herself float to the surface, noting various sensations, cataloguing them, filing the information away. Head, pain; forearms, pain/heavy/constricted, upper arms, cool/uncovered; torso on down, covered, as with a sheet. Smells... cool/antiseptic/filtered. Noises... She reached out to listen to her surroundings. Close by were the sounds of medical monitors, but there was something between her and the other sounds of the room. She was in the infirmary, and someone had pulled the curtain to give her privacy? That was a good supposition, she decided. Head injury... She tensed the small muscles of her face to gauge the sensations. Bruising and cuts to her face... Further around seemed to have something worse... Fracture? Could she have concussion? Possibly.

Next she flexed her fingers. Fingers were fine, but something was going on with the ulna and radius in both forearms. Fractures, she decided. An image flashed into her mind – bringing her arms up before slamming into something... Huh. She was never going to live that down! Two and a half years, and she when finally breaks something, it's nothing more than a mundane fall. Brilliant.

She tensed and relaxed other muscles, but, apart from some negligible bruising, she was otherwise unharmed. She stretched out again with her hearing. People were moving about, attendants with soft shoes whispering along, quiet coughs. A woman's voice, quiet, speaking to a group of … four individuals, was approaching. “We had to reset her heart rate monitor as it kept signalling her as having bradycardia.” One of the visitors appeared to not understand the term, so she explained as she continued, “Slow heart rate. Normal resting heart rate in humans is sixty beats per minute, bradycardia is considered to be anything under fifty. Our guest has been sitting at around forty-six bpm the entire time. After a time of observation, I decided that was her usual resting heart rate, and recalibrated the machine. This is usually only seen in athletes, etc. She has very good muscle tone for someone her age. She's not just fit, she's what you might consider 'fighting fit'.”

The group stopped outside her curtain to continue the conversation. “She's awfully young for that, isn't she?” queried a male voice. She decided he sounded like an alpha male. “She's what? Twenty?”

“I would estimate her age to be in her early twenties. Of course, she could have studied martial arts from a young age – that happens. Although I don't think her weapons look particularly Asian, from my great wealth of experience,” the doctor added in amusement.

She rolled her eyes. Why did people automatically assume the Asian peoples had sole rights to all arts martial? It appeared that someone agreed with her, as she heard a second male voice explain, “Oh, all cultures have some form of martial art or another. And I had a chance to look at her weapons. They are predominantly European, her sword being Irish, though for some reason she had runes etched onto it. The knives tucked into her boots were balisongs, though, which are Filipino in origin. But, then, they are also very practical. It means that you don't have to sacrifice blade length just to fit them into a fairly short boot, like her hiking boots. And she had a very European dragon etched into the blade of each one, so I'm thinking practicality trumped over culture on that.”

“So, what? She's one of those Highlander immortal things?” the alpha joked.

“No, Jack,” the other grumped, “I was just saying –”

“Yeah, Danny, I get you.”

“If you'll just wait here,” the doctor murmured, “I don't think she'll be awake yet, but I'll get her chart.”

The curtain slid aside and the doctor picked up the chart at the end of the bed before walking up the side. The woman on the bed's eyes fluttered before she frowned and groaned softly.

“Hey there,” the doctor greeted softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Où suis-je?”

“Just a moment,” the doctor murmured before going back out to the group. “Daniel, you speak French, don't you?”

“Sure.” He moved around to the bedside and smiled to the woman. “Salut. Je m'appelle Daniel. Comment vous appellez-vous?”

“Je m'appelle Guenièvre. J'ai soif.”

He turned back to the doctor. “Her name is Guinevere, and she's thirsty.” He took the cup of water from the doctor, and helped the young woman drink.

“Où suis-je?” she repeated.

“Ah... un instant,” he replied before moving back to his friends.

“Well?” Jack demanded.

“She wants to know where she is. How much are we telling her?”

Jack nodded, then pushed back the curtain. “Translate for me, will you?” he asked Daniel. “Hi,” he addressed the girl, trying to keep his voice light and friendly. “My name's Jack. How are you feeling today?”

“A little sore,” Daniel translated. “Where am I, please?”

“You're in an Air Force hospital. Do you know how you got here?”

//I was running. I jumped over something... Then I was falling. You sound American. Which base am I at?//

“You're in America. We're in Colorado.”

She gasped and plucked at the sheets. //I was in Dordogne, I was in France, on a site. How am I here?//

“Okay, easy now,” Janet commanded. “Jack, she's only just woken up, and likely has a concussion. I can't have you exciting her this quickly. If you want more information, you'll have to come back for it.” With that, she shuffled the group away from her patient and slid the curtain closed.

'Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Trust bloody Sam to bloody appear like that. Where the hell am I?'

Chapter Two – Tangled Webs

Once outside the infirmary, Jack turned to Sam. “Okay, Carter, spill.”

Sam shot a look back into the room, and shook her head. “Not here, sir. And I really think the General needs to hear this.”

“Okay then. Let's go.”

~~~~~

“Good afternoon, SG1. What's so urgent that you need to interrupt my afternoon?”

“Well, sir, I think Major Carter has something important to tell us about our visitor.”

“Is that correct, Major?”

“Yes, sir.” Sam cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably. “Do you remember that, um, incident that occurred, in Oxford, about six months ago?”

Jack looked at her, eyes narrowed. “You mean when you were kidnapped off the streets, and held for over forty-eight hours? By people we never found?”

She nodded, swallowing nervously. “Yes, sir. That incident. Well, I didn't actually get a good look at her until we went to the infirmary, but I believe that the woman that appeared in the Gate Room is the same woman that helped me escape – Gwen.”

“I thought you said that Gwen was an English speaker, of unknown nationality.”

“It's her, sir. She's pretty recognisable. And, as I said, she reminded me a lot of you. If you were in an unknown, possibly hostile situation, and fluent in a foreign language, wouldn't you try to pass yourself off as a foreign national, if you thought you could get away with it?”

“If I could get away with yet, hell yeah! Denying the interrogator the ability to get answers directly, adding a layer of confusion by adding a translator, it's all good. Plus, you get the chance to overhear things if they don't realise you understand what they're saying.” He thought about it for a while. “You couldn't pick her nationality when you were talking to her?”

Sam sighed. “Her accent is... unusual. Sometimes it sounded a little English, sometimes a little American. There were no significant accents – definitely no French accent there. I thought of her as a native English speaker, but I was unsure of where she came from. It's more a matter of what accents she didn't have.” She thought for a bit. “She uses English swear words. Not British English, just general English. Not foreign words. Although...” She tried to remember exactly what Gwen had said. “I think she said 'arse' instead of 'ass', so maybe she is English. But she didn't use words you would usually think of as British.”

“The goth girl that passed the note spoke French, just as fluently as Guinevere,” Daniel suggested.

“She had dark hair and eyes,” Jack added, “but there are such things as wigs and contacts.”

“You noticed her eye colour?” Sam asked, grinning.

Jack scoffed. “A girl comes up to me, dressed like that? I make it a point of honour to check her eye colour.” When he noticed the General's confused look, he added, “She was, ah, dressed to distract.” He shifted uncomfortably. “She was pretty good at it, too. At a guess, I would put her height at over five-ten, but she was wearing boots, so less than that. And her outfit was... I think I've seen more on a Goa'uld, actually. And her hair was in her face, so you couldn't get a good look at her.”

“And the lipstick – don't forget that.”

At General Hammond's confused look, Sam explained, “Everything about her was black and white – black clothes and hair, pale skin – but she had red lipstick on, so her mouth became a focal point. If, you know, you were trying to avoid looking lower,” she added, smirking.

“So, Colonel O'Neill, what would your assessment be of the individual you met last year?”

“Girl could be a pro, sir. The way she looked, the way she moved, the eye was drawn to areas that were essentially unidentifiable, especially if they were normally covered. You stand the girl that landed in the Gate Room beside the girl we met that night, and most people would be hard put to match them.

“So now the assessment is that we have a possible covert agent on the base, inserted by means unknown and quite possibly unavoidable?” A chill went through him, and he sent orders for their 'guest' to be placed under heavy guard. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“She wasn't working alone,” Sam went on. “The other woman, Dawn, was very well known to Gwen, they seemed to have some sort of working relationship. Gwen trusted her to check one side of the house, and to keep an eye on me. When we were escaping, Gwen took Dawn's hint to not give me an amulet, and then left me in Dawn's control when I couldn't get out without the amulet. She just walked off to the car, laughing. Gwen was in charge,” Sam decided, “but allowed Dawn a lot of autonomy.”

“Actually, we might have seen the whole team, from a distance, anyway. If Gwen was the French goth girl that passed the message, then doesn't it make sense that she would have people around her that she could trust? One of the other women could easily have been Dawn – it was night time, and they were too far away to get a proper look, but one of them could have been Dawn.”

“Guess they don't have the same fraternisation rules, then,” Daniel commented,smirking.

Jack rolled his eyes. “So what do you want to do now, sir?”

~~~~~

Willow was enjoying herself. She was soaring through the air, could feel the wind whipping through her hair, rippling over her body, as she watched the world pass beneath her. She noticed something up ahead, and furrowed her brow curiously as she headed for it. Suddenly, she was there, and it was Gwen, standing in mid-air, arms folded, as if there was miles of solid ground beneath her.

“Ah... Gwen?”

The other woman grinned. “You're asleep, Willow. You are recovering from the battle, and you are dreaming. Therefore, the natural laws do not hold.”

Willow pouted, and the scene changed. Now they were seated on a blanket, under a tree, by a lake. Gwen looked around. “Very idyllic,” she pronounced, dryly. Willow frowned, as if unsure how to take the comment, so Gwen continued, “Seriously. Very nice.”

Willow nodded. “So I'm asleep and dreaming. What about you? Why are you here? I mean, you're hot and all that, but I don't think I'm fantasising about you, am I?”

“Not at the moment, no. I have intruded into your dreamscape. I am meditating.”

“Yeah, but how? How are you even here? And why? What couldn't wait until I woke up?”

“How I'm here? You made me, Willow, and a part of me will always be connected to you. I just followed the link back. I knew you would be recovering, and it would take a while, so I took the chance. As for why I couldn't wait?” She sighed. “I'm kind of in a bind, here. I don't suppose you realise that I didn't make it back after the battle, do you?”

“Oh, goddess – you're dead? Oh no! Xander will be crushed. He had such –“

“Will!” Gwen interrupted. “I'm not dead! I'm just not in Kansas anymore.” She rolled her eyes. “Or Ohio, as the case may be. I got bounced. I think.”

“Bounced,” Willow repeated carefully.

The blonde sighed. “I was crossing the gully surrounding the ritual site. Faith threw the Scythe to me, and I grabbed it just as I was crossing the gully, and next thing I know I'm in Colorado, or so they tell me, and landing against a brick wall. I am in some kind of high security military installation with that Major that Dawn and I were kidnapped with last year. She's an astrophysicist. Not only that, but I recognise the translator they were using. He's an archaeologist and anthropologist, specialising in Ancient Egypt, who got laughed off the scene when he started rabbiting on about the pyramids being older than generally thought.”

“Which they are,” Willow agreed. “But...”

“But what are an astrophysicist and an archaeologist specialising in Egypt doing at a secure military installation? In the company of an ex-special forces operative?”

“Huh? Please tell me that isn't the case?” she whined.

“Remember those men who were with Sam when I passed her the note? The very same men. You agreed that the middle one, the one I talked to first? You agreed there was something special about him, something like my father, and we both know what he's like.”

“Stubborn, inquisitive, intelligent, smart ass,” Willow grumbled.

“Taught me everything I know,” Gwen replied.

Willow scowled. Just how did she manage to growl and smirk at the same time. And look uber hot while doing it. Bad Willow. She's married. To your best friend. Can we say 'threesome'? Bad Willow!

Gwen chuckled low in her throat. “When you can drag your mind out of the gutter...”

Willow sighed. “Back on the sidewalk. Okay. So we have to get you out of there.”

“Soonest would be nicest. I'm already under guard. Not sure when the interrogations will commence, but they will. I sure as hell would. Sam recognised me, and they would have it all figured out by now. They're military, which means hard science, which means that magic and the oogly booglies we deal with will have a very different meaning here. Alternatively, Initiative Mark II. Wasn't there for the first round, really don't want to feature in the second round.” She sighed, and ran her hands over her head. Willow noted with amusement that she did it even in the dreamscape.

“I keep coming back to how I got here.” She shook her head. “I felt something when I grabbed the Scythe, and I'm wondering if the demons put up some kind of ward or something so that whoever was carrying the Scythe across the gap got bounced elsewhere. It should have been Faith or Buffy – the Scythe doesn't get used by anyone else as a general thing – which would have robbed us of significant leadership. It probably should have dropped me into some hell dimension, but I don't appear to have gone far at all. I've been thinking, and there are one or two things that I can come up with that affected the original spell. First is my personal weapons. The spells you put on Síocháin and Tearmann were pretty powerful, and may have interfered with the relocation spell. Something else... And active and stable portal may have caused me to bounce back to our dimension, or prevented me from leaving. And a Wiccan's portal is an astrophysicist wormhole, isn't it?”

“Which is precisely Major Sam Carter's field. Yeah.” Willow thought for a moment. “I still can't believe you named your swords Peace and Refuge,” she smirked.

“We've had this conversation. It's what I do. Get rid of the big bads so the sheep can have blah blah blah.” Gwen sighed and looked around. “I have to go. Don't want to be flaked out when they turn up.” She stood and faced Willow. “See you soon. Or else!”

“I'll be there. With matching 'do.”

Gwen disappeared, leaving Willow alone on the rug. She looked out over the lake. “Damn!”

Chapter Three – Speaking of Dreams…

Xander paced through the halls, long strides eating up distance. His eyes darted around, searching for his old friend. Finally he found her coming out of one of the dorms, blinking and stretching.

“Oh, hey, Xander!” she greeted, smiling sleepily, as they turned and started walking back the way he had come. “Where's the coffee? I had the strangest dream today. Really weird with the flying, and then Gwen was just standing there, and I thought I might be fantasising about her, except that she was just standing in the sky, fully dressed, you know, like she was going out for a fight, just standing in the sky, which is freaky in and of itself, and I don't really think I've ever fantasised about her before because I don't really think I understand her, what with her being the strong and silent type, although I had that whole thing with Oz, and he's just as strong, silent and dangerous as Gwen, except I'm a lesbian, now, and so she would be more my type, except I've never really looked at her that way before...” She trailed off when she noticed Xander staring at her, a mixture of surprise, frustration, and just a little 'ew' on his face.

“Just when I thought you couldn't get more random,” Xander chuckled, shaking his head. “So you don't usually dream about Gwen?”

“First time ever! I wonder if she bleaches her hair? Does she bleach her hair? You'd know about that, wouldn't you? Or would you? And it's not like she has albinism – she has pigmentation in her eyes and skin, just not her hair? What's up with that? Oh, wait, no, she can't have that – slayers don't have that kind of recessive DNA.” She scoffed, “Slayers and their perfect DNA's – just one more thing to make the rest of us feel inferior! Not that I feel inferior, not with the major mojo going on, and you should never feel inferior because you're the Xan-Man, superhero of the normals -”

“Will!” Xander interrupted. “Are you sure you haven't already had a week's ration of caffeine? I don't think I've heard you babble like that in ages!”

“Huh! No, no coffee yet. Or any other caffeinated beverages du jour.” She stopped walking, and concentrated for a moment. “I really don't know what's going on. It feels like... I don't know. Almost like something Spike said once about drinking from a slayer. It feels like I've got all this energy just buzzing around inside of me, but it only started when I started talking about – huh! When I started talking about my dream with Gwen. I wonder what that's all about?”

Xander frowned. “Well, we kind of have an emergency going on, and it concerns Gwen. Do you remember much about your dream?”

“Hmm... I'm getting flashes. It's coming back, but not really yet. Why? Do you think my dream has something to do with the emergency?” Willow noted that he hadn't seen Xander look so stern in a very long time. “What is the emergency, anyway?”

He shook his head. “Let's leave it until we're all together, okay?”

~~~~~

Willow and Xander entered the conference room to find Buffy, Faith, Dawn and Giles already waiting for them. The energy that had run through her while talking about her dream had slowly seeped out of her, leaving her a little drained. She curled up in one of the chairs, and blinked at the others. Xander looked at her for a moment, but decided not to give her any coffee. Hopefully going over the dream would perk her up sufficiently.

“Good afternoon, Willow,” Giles murmured. “Are you feeling better? I wanted to say that we really appreciated the effort you and the other witches put into the battle yesterday. I really don't think we could have succeeded without you.” When she nodded, he went on. “Did Xander explain what the problem was?”

“Um, no. Just that there was an emergency, and it concerned Gwen. Who isn't here. She was in my dream, though,” she added, frowning.

“There was a dream,” Faith asked.

“Yes. A really weird one. She was standing in the middle of the sky, which kind of makes sense, since I was flying, and I probably wouldn't have noticed her if she had been standing on the ground, and it was a dream, like she said, so natural laws don't apply, which means that standing on in the sky is probably just as normal as me flying through the sky since I'm not Superman, or even Supergirl, 'cause, you know, I'm a girl, not a man. Well, actually, I'm a woman, not a girl, because I'm never-you-mind-how-old, but it's Supergirl, not Superwoman, because some people like to marginalise females by calling them girls, not women, although there were a number of versions of Superwoman, but they tended to be villains or -”

“Oh my god! Would you take a breath?” Buffy exclaimed, trying to decide if she was annoyed or amused.

Xander grinned. “She was like this earlier. Sleepy until she started talking about her dream. And maybe now you can get on with the actual dream, instead of a lecture on Introduction to Postmodern Feminism?”

“Okay, deep breath,” Willow decided. “The dream. Gwen was there. In the dream. But she was telling me that really she's in a military base, under guard. Um... Somewhere... Oh! Colorado. And she's with that scientist you were kidnapped with, Dawn. And the two guys we saw her with when Gwen passed the note. The first guy, that I thought reminded me of Gwen's dad? Yeah, he's some kind of special forces guy, so Gwennie's super happy to be in his hands, I can tell you. She's getting a little worried about the Initiative Mark II.”

Faith looked at the others. She hadn't been around for the original version, but she had heard stories. The expressions on her friends' faces was enough to chill her to the bone. For the military to start something like that with a slayer, especially one who had become a friend. She gritted her teeth at the thought. “Is there a way to get her out?”

“Depends on the time-frame. Can we get Riley to intervene? She wants out of there, muy pronto, and we really can't afford to leave her in there. I will pull her out if I have to, but I risk leaving things behind, like her weapons, or the Scythe. Or if I get the Scythe, I might have problems getting her as well. I doubt they'd let her stay too close to the shiny sharp things.” There were a number of smirks around the table at the thought of Gwen with shiny sharp things.

“How did she even get to talk to you anyway?” Buffy wanted to know. “How do you know it's not just a dream?”

“Oh – she told me! She said that it was because I made her, and so there's like a permanent connection between us, and she just followed it back to me. I think it might have been easier since I was asleep, and more open to communication. Also, the mind-link I installed some time ago, although Colorado's too far away for her to talk to me normally, which is why she had to do it this way.”

“Okay, I think I have a few issues with what you just said there,” Buffy began, shifting uncomfortably. “You 'made' her? What's that supposed to mean?”

Willow rolled her eyes. “I made her just like I made all the minis. 'One Scythe to make them all, and in the darkness find them.'”

“Oh, Will,” Xander objected, “that was just...”

“Pathetic?” Faith offered.

“Painful!” Dawn added.

Giles had removed his glasses to rub them. “Honestly, Willow, I can't believe you just did that,” he chided.

“Even I know that was just wrong,” Buffy agreed. “Okay, so you 'made' her with the Scythe spell. Fine. But what about the mind-link. When did you do that?”

“Um... some time ago. Actually, I linked her into all the Scoobies, but her link to Xander is the strongest. Since they're married, and spend so much time together, and, well, everything.”

“So she's mind-linked to me?”

“Um. Yes. It was just easier to link her into the group, rather than do it individually. But your link isn't active. Not until you actually try to talk to her. And I knew she wouldn't try to talk to you unless she really had to, so I knew she wouldn't be bothering you. So... That's okay?”

Buffy frowned at Willow, but didn't bother to argue.

“Yeah, what is it with you two?” Faith wanted to know. “I mean, Gwen gets along with everyone else – why not you?”

Buffy shrugged. “I just don't like her. I don't know. She's all super-soldiery, and I'm-a-better-slayer-than-you. I've been doing this a long time, you know, and then she turns up and she's so good, nearly as good as me, and she's only been doing it for a little while, and I just don't know.”

“She would never say that she's better than you. Not even to me,” Xander objected softly. “She said it's a personality thing. Your personalities are incompatible. You see her as cold, she sees you as frivolous. But she also sees that you are doing a good job as head slayer, so she won't challenge you for the leadership. You slip up, or you die, and then she'll do what she has to. Not what she wants. She'll support you as long as you're doing a good job.” He shifted in his seat and frowned. “She actually said that she would have supported you back in the Dale. When we kicked you out? She was a little pissed when she heard about that one. You may think she's too military in her mindset, what with the way her dad trained her, but it's given her a very healthy respect for command hierarchy, and you were the leader. She would have done her best to keep you in command, and to help you with that command. She might have torn you a new one in private, but publicly she would have had your back. And she'll do the same thing today, if you let her.”

“So, what? I'm supposed to make her my second in command?”

“No, but you should listen to her, and not just reject her out of hand. She's too valuable a resource for you to just ignore.”

“Does your wife know you refer to her as a resource?” Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow.

He snorted. “She refers to herself as a resource.”

Buffy pressed her fingertips to her eyebrows. “Okay, I'll make with the nice when we get her back. In the meantime, how do we do that?”

“I'll contact Riley,” Giles decided. “Willow, you see if you can locate Gwen more precisely than just 'Colorado'. Was there anything else in the dream?”

“Um... Oh, she thinks that it was a magical attack against Buffy and Faith. Specifically, it was against whoever held the Scythe, but that's almost always Buffy and Faith, so she thinks that's who they were targeting. She thinks it was supposed to dump whoever into a hell dimension, but that it either interacted with the spells on her swords, or – oh! – wormholes! She thinks the Air Force might be playing with wormholes, because Major Carter's speciality is wormhole theory! And for some reason, it has to do with the pyramids being older than generally thought.” She frowned at the thought. “Dawn, what do you know about an archaeologist specialising in Ancient Egypt being laughed out of town for saying that about the pyramids?”

“I don't know, but I can find out. Do you think you'll be able to talk to Gwen again? A name might help narrow things down a little.”

“I can try, but it could get icky if she's in the middle of an interrogation.”

Buffy turned to Giles. “Do we need to be worried about wormholes? That's like portals, right? Could they be playing with things we really don't want them to?”

“If the military are opening portals, that could lead to unfortunate side effects. Who knows what's on the other side. Yes, Dawn, we need to have a look into Egyptian mythology, see if there's anything about portals, or ways of travelling to other dimensions. We need to be ready in case they stuff up.”

“Guys, do we need to discuss how Gwen's to respond to any interrogations? Does she ask for a lawyer? For Riley? Does she mention us, her name? If Will is able to contact her, we should have a list of things ready that she can and, preferably, won't say. Ideas?” Xander asked.

“Calling for a lawyer probably won't help,” Dawn suggested. “What with the Patriot Act, they could just call her a terrorist, and that's that idea junked. Riley is a good idea, though. If she gets that stuck, he would be a good lifeline. And he knows about her.”

“I'd rather she didn't mention the Council, or any of the various organisations associated with it,” Giles said. “The further we can stay from official notice of the military, the better I'll feel.”

“She may be covering as a French employee with Summers Kalderash,” Xander suggested. “I know she didn't have a chance to clean out her pack after we did that job for you in the Dordogne region, so she probably still has Euros and French language stuff on her I-pod, maybe even a book. You know how she likes to immerse herself,” he added, grinning.

“Very well,” Giles murmured, making a note on his pad. “What name would she be using?”

“Guinevere de Leon. It's close enough to her birth name that it's easy to remember. Always remember the KISS principle. We already have a record of her in the system under that name,” he added, “so if anyone does check on her, it all looks legit.”

Buffy shifted in her chair. “Okay. So she can reveal she's a French employee of Summers Kalderash, by name of Guinevere de Leon, and call on Riley if things get hairy. Anything else?”

“The Scythe is a problematic artefact that she was bringing in for verification, and SKI has a policy that all employees are armed while in the field, especially while transporting artefacts. It has led to a significantly low number of thefts of historical artefacts, for which SKI has become renowned,” Dawn rattled off.

“So... Party line,” Xander clarified.

Dawn nodded. “Do you know if she was carrying her Glock?”

“No, she left that at home. She didn't want to be tempted, or to have it knocked out in the middle of something. The big bads have enough ways to kill us. They don't need us giving them any extra.”

“So other than that?”

“Keep her trap shut,” Dawn suggested. “If anyone can, it's her.”

The others nodded.

~~~~~

“Hello, Gwennie,” Jack welcomed cheerfully. “Take a seat, won't you?”

Gwen looked at him nervously, then looked around to see if there was anyone else in the room.

“No, we don't need anyone else here, do we, Gwennie? After all, you speak English just as well as you speak French, don't you?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but Jack held up a finger. “Ah ah ah! Don't try that 'don't speak English' crap. I know you do. Sam recognised you,” he added, gleefully. “You remember Sam, don't you? Six months ago, Oxford, a little matter of a kidnapping, oh, and this,” he added, swinging the amulet by its chain. “We managed to lift a decent index finger print off the stone, and match it to you. You know, while you were napping?”

She looked at the stone, then sat down, placing her hands on the table in front of her. “Je m'appelle Guenièvere,” she said, back straight.

“Yes, Gwennie. Now say that in English.”

She sat there, eyes focussed on the table in front of her, and said nothing.

~~~~~

SG1 watched the recording with the General.

“That's it?” the General asked.

“That's it,” Jack agreed. “I was with her for two hours, asked all kinds of questions, begged, cajoled, yelled, anything I could think of. When she spoke, which wasn't often, it was 'Je m'appelle Guenièvere.' Danny even tried talking to her for an hour or so, and got exactly the same reaction. She just sits there, staring at the table. Won't look at you, won't say anything except that one phrase.”

“And your opinion?”

“She's damn good. I'm not sure how I'm going to get to her without resorting to unsanctioned methods. Everyone has a breaking point, but...”

“Okay. Keep talking to her. Rotate through the four of you. Teal'c you might be able to see something or do something that the others can't, so I want you in there, too.” The larger man nodded. “We need answers.”

Chapter Four – Q & A

“Je m'appelle Guenièvere.”

“I know your name is Guinevere! Tell me something I don't know. In English,” Jack roared at her.

'Magic is real, and I could leave at any moment.'

'I could break your neck, and you wouldn't even know I'd moved till you were dead.'

'The world is older than you know.'

'You look so cute when you're angry.' Smirk.

Silence. Jack slammed his hands against the table, then spun out of the room. “Tag. You're it!”

~~~~~

“General Hammond? There is an Agent Finn topside to speak to you.”

~~~~~

“Hi Gwen. My name is Dr Daniel Jackson. I know you speak English, so I'm not going to speak French to you anymore, okay?”

Silence.

“So I was wondering about the axe you had with you. It's design is old, possibly medieval? Certainly not a modern design. But the item itself looks brand new. Is it a replica of something you've seen?”

Silence.

“You're very good at this, aren't you? I always thought a super spy would be older, you know? Who trained you? CIA? NSA? Or maybe MI6? Um... Some evil overlord?”

Don't look don't look don't look... And don't smirk.

“You do know that Jack is going to keep this going, don't you? He's like a terrier. He won't stop.”

Silence.

~~~~~

“Agent Finn, how may I help you today?”

~~~~~

“Hi Gwen, how are you today?”

She raised narrowed eyes to the other woman. How did she not notice this before? The taste of … what? Something past? How did she not see?

“Is everything okay? Can I get you something?”

Eyes travelled down her form as fingertips pressed into the table surface. It must have been the house. The wards had been omnipresent, tainting everything else. They must have masked her … scent. And later? Had she been so confident of her own abilities? Was she getting arrogant? She had noticed the man's natural skills, how had she ignored the woman's … feel?

“You know, we can't help you if you don't talk to us. Do you still believe in magic? Because I'm having a hard time with it right now.”

Eyes flashed back up to eyes. How can she say that? What happened, happened. Is she so wrapped up in her physical, five-senses-only world that she can even negate the possession that had a hold of her? Her jaw clenched, and she lowered her eyes to the table top, flattening her hands to the surface, and relaxed.

“We need to be able to discuss this.”

Silence.

~~~~~

“I'm here about a girl.”

~~~~~

“Good afternoon, Guinevere. My name is Murray. I would like to ask you some questions.”

She had moved out of her chair as soon as he had entered the room, and stood on the far side of the room in a ready stance. They had a demon fucking interrogating her? What the fucking hell were they up to? She sent out a cry to Willow, adrenaline aiding her. 'Get me the fuck out of here. Right now right now right the fuck now!'

~~~~~

“Let me get this straight,” General Hammond frowned. “You have orders from the Joint Chiefs to take an unnamed female into custody? The only way you're going to identify her is by this altered photograph?” he added, shaking the offending picture. Two probably identifiable items, likely her colleagues, had been crudely painted out of the picture, leaving only her image.

“Yes, sir,” Riley nodded. “The female concerned is a member of a classified project, and may not be identified without permission.”

“The female concerned -”

~~~~~

Willow gasped and sat straight up. Her hair bleached white as her eyes began to glow. A gale whipped around the room, catching up stray papers and small items. There was a flash, and Gwen appeared in the room, eyes wide, body tense.

The wind died down, and Willow's appearance returned to normal. Xander flew out of his seat, and wrapped his arms around his Gwen. She immediately slid her arms up his back, folding her fingers over his shoulders, and buried her face in his neck, breathing deeply. After a moment, she pulled back and looked deep into his eye. “They have fucking demons in the fucking Air Force.”

He froze. “Please, baby. Tell me you're joking,” he begged.

“Do I look like I'm fucking joking?” she shouted, trying to pull away from him, but he held her tight. After a momentary struggle, she collapsed against him, shuddering. “Tall, human looking, dark skin, gold tattoo on his forehead. Symbol of Apep. You know, I've actually faced far scarier demons,” she went on, “but it was the fact that he was there, on a US military base, and seemed to have sufficient trust that he was interrogating me. I freaked.” She shivered. “Plus side?” she added as she looked up.

“Yes?”

“Xander cuddles,” she grinned as she nuzzled his neck.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “When you're quite finished getting re-acquainted...”

Gwen looked over at her with narrowed eyes. Somehow those words seemed a lot more tolerant than previously. She looked back at Xander with eyebrow raised.

He grinned. “Words were said. We tried to hammer it into her that you're not after her position. I won't say she likes you now, but...”

Taking his hand, Gwen wandered over to the table where the others were sitting. She found a chair, and they sat together, all the while considering Buffy.

Finally, Buffy spoke. “You think I'm frivolous.”

“Please,” Gwen scoffed. “Your shoe budget could feed a third world nation. You think I'm cold.”

Buffy sighed. “I've been told the word is 'pragmatic'. Okay. We're not best buds, not sure we ever will be, but you, apparently, are a valuable resource – you can thank your beloved husband for that one – that I should not ignore, and everyone else seems to think you're the bees knees, so I'll deal.”

Gwen tilted her head in thought. “Okay.”

“So,” Giles began grimly, “demons in the Air Force?”

~~~~~

The General was cut off by a siren.

“What just happened?” Riley asked cautiously.

The phone rang, and the General answered. After a brief conversation, the General hung up. “Well, it seems like your girl has gone,” he informed the younger man grimly.

“Okay,” he drawled. “I'm going to need to know exactly what happened. This could be very serious. Her people are... Well, let's just say you don't want to piss her people off. Sir,” he added, remembering where he was.

“And why would that be?”

“Because they are some of the scariest people I have ever met, and I am just thankful that they're on our side. Seriously, sir: the wrong word, a bad explanation, and this could all blow up in our faces.” He took a deep breath. “Literally,” he added.

“Well, the team interrogating the young woman are on their way. You may ask your questions then.”

With effort, Riley was able to control his fidgeting while waiting for the team to arrive. Once they did so, and introductions and curious looks were made, they gave their report. The report was succinct. Gwen had had no reaction to either Jack or Daniel, and only a minimal reaction to Sam. They found her reaction curious, since Gwen had already met Sam, and yet she was reacting as if Sam was something new, and somewhat unpleasant. The reaction to Teal'c was the most startling, however. She had gotten out of her chair as soon as he had entered the room, and moved to where he could not easily reach her, keeping the table between the two of them. Her expression was described as horrified. And then she had disappeared.

Riley considered their report for a moment before speaking. “Okay, what is different about Teal'c? Apart from the tattoo, of course? Is there something she could smell, or hear, or sense about him, that could set him apart? Obviously she reacted to him, and her reaction was sufficient that she was removed from the scene. I can tell you right now that this is not a good thing. They were happy to have me remove her discretely, and I know Gwen is not someone who panics needlessly. How is Teal'c different from an ordinary human?”

“Well,” Jack countered, “it all depends. How would Gwen sense if Teal'c was different to ordinary humans?”

“Gwen is not normal. She would be the first to admit that. Her survival depends on being able to differentiate normal humans from other … beings. And there are some like her who have a … hit first, ask questions later attitude. Gwen isn't so quick to solve things violently, but...” He hunched forward, and put his head in his hands. “Shit,” he muttered. “What has she told you about her life? Major Carter met her before this, didn't she? What did she say?”

Sam looked to Jack before answering. “Well, Agent Finn, she said that magic exists,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“It does,” he agreed. “I've seen it.”

“Card tricks are not magic,” Jack retorted.

“And if that's all it was, then I would agree with you. But you haven't seen what I have seen, and, with respect, Colonel, you don't know anything about this at all. How precisely do you think Gwen got here? How do you think she left? Her people have been investigating her initial disappearance, and believe it was a singularity event that was affected, in some part, by your own facility. Did you happen to have any unusual technology active at the time of her appearance?”

SG1 turned to the General for an answer. After a moment, he replied. “Yes, we did have a piece of unusual technology active at the time she arrived. And that's as much as I will say on the matter.”

“That's okay. I'm not really interested about what you do at this point. But you should know that her people are going to be interested, and they generally get what they want. They may also have a say on whether or not you get to continue your work here.” He sighed. “This is a mess,” he muttered. “Let's start again. Magic is real. To put not too fine a point on it, things that go bump in the night? They're real, too. People like Gwen, well, they bump back. They are scary, powerful people, and they're not afraid of taking the fight to the enemy.

“We, the military, have interfered in their world before. We... I was involved in a project. That's pretty much how I got this position. I got to know... Gwen's boss, shall we say? through the project. Unfortunately, the project – in part at least – was a rogue NID project. It involved the attempted creation of a … hybrid being … an abomination in the truest sense … in an attempt to create a super-soldier. The being killed its creator, and took over the facility. This is after the project head attempted to have Gwen's boss assassinated. In the end, the only reason any of us got out alive was because of Gwen's people. They used magic – real, powerful magic – to defeat the … thing. Since then, they have been incredibly wary of any and all things military, especially where it interacts with their world.

“So, I'm asking again. How is Teal'c different from an ordinary human?”

General Hammond thought for a moment before answering. “I'm going to need authorisation before I can tell you anything specific. I'll have you escorted to the VIP lounge while you wait.”

“That's fine, but I'm going to need to make a couple of phone calls as well. If nothing else, I need to let people know where I am, and hopefully avert anything rash.”

The General nodded, and called for someone to escort Agent Finn away.

The airman escorted Riley to the lounge, and pointed out the phone, and how to use it. Once he was alone, he picked up the phone and called his office. Once connected, he had them put him through to a number he'd committed to memory.

“Hey, Giles. How is everyone?”

~~~~~

Riley walked back into the conference room, escorted by an airman. He nodded to the General before taking his seat. He looked around, and then said, “Well?”

“Your friends really are very powerful, aren't they?” General Hammond asked.

“You have no idea.”

“I have been instructed to welcome a team from SLA, to show them around the facility, and to answer any and all questions they might have. Do you think this will be acceptable to Gwen's people?”

“They're going to want to know about Teal'c.”

“I do believe I said 'any and all questions.'”
“And if they decide he's too dangerous to remain here?”

“We may have to make other arrangements.”

“Just so you know, they're not biased against other beings simply for being 'other'. They have the safety of the world at heart, and would only seriously protest if they feel his continued existence here were problematic. But being confronted by something that she identified as … possibly hostile … in such a position of trust... It upset Gwen considerably, and what upsets Gwen has a tendency to upset her people, if only for the fact that she is not easily upset.”

“Very well, then. Do you have any idea when this can be arranged?”

Riley nodded. “They're still all in country at the moment, so they could probably be here in the next day or so. I'll have to talk to them again, but I would expect a party of, say, five to eight people.”

“Very well, then. Make your arrangements, and let me know.”

Chapter Five – Let’s Get ‘Splainy

Waking up slowly was nice. For so many years, he'd been in the necessary habit of waking quickly, needing to be alert even as his head moved off the pillow. But this morning, his body knew that there was no need for such vigilance, and he could drift slowly to full consciousness.

He smiled, and tightened his arm around his wife's waist. His wife. Married less than two years, and he felt it was never going to get old. He'd been concerned about marrying Anya, but here he was, married, and happy with it. He bent his head, and began to kiss her neck. If nothing else, that would wake her. He felt her sigh, and shift back harder against him. Her hand moved, and began to stroke his thigh, trying to pull him closer. He chuckled, and began to nip at her neck. She gasped softly, and tilted her head to give him better access, as his hands began to move.

Then the door vibrated under the fist of what Xander assumed was a slayer. “Wakey wakey, hands off snakey!” Faith called through the door.

For the love of God!

“But I like snakey,” Gwen grumbled. “He's fun!”

Xander pressed a hard kiss into her neck before hauling himself out of the bed and pulling some pants on. “What's the what, Faith?” Xander asked sleepily once he'd cracked the door open slightly.

“Up and at 'em, boy and girl. We've got a plane to catch. You've got half an hour,” she added, then checked her watch, “make that twenty-eight minutes to get dressed and ready to go, so haul ass.”

He glared at her for a moment, then slammed the door. “Come on, babe. I've got a couple of slayers and a witch to kill. I have to be dressed for that.”

They hauled out their bags, and quickly packed. Weapons were stowed in locked bags, and then tossed into duffles, which would have to be checked through at the airport. They dressed, quickly and efficiently, then grabbed their bags and headed downstairs.

“Right,” he said to the group, “which of you thought it would be a fun idea to give us just twenty-eight minutes to get ready to fly out?”

“Um, coffee?” Willow presented a travel mug. “We really do need to get going, and what with you two not needing much time to get ready, and we know that you wanted to catch up, so we wanted to let you sleep in as much as possible, but then we forgot to wake you, and it was getting to the point where we were leaving in half an hour, and no one really wanted to interrupt morning snuggles, but we kind of had to, but Faith was the only one brave enough to do it, so please don't be too mad?” she finished with a squeak.

“Have you had any coffee this morning, Will?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he decided, pulling the witch close and kissing the top of her head. “You're forgiven.”

~~~~~

Agent Finn entered the conference room, leading the other group. General Hammond had very little information about these people, other than there were seven of them, and they were friends or colleagues of Gwen. He frowned as he watched the group enter. Five young women, including Gwen, none of them over thirty, and two men, one in his twenties, the other a generation older.

Jack looked at Riley. “Seriously. The scariest people you know?” he greeted.

“Yep,” he grinned. “Well, I think introductions are in order. Okay,” he began, turning to the small blonde, and a scholarly-looking older man, “this is Buffy Summers and Rupert Giles, respectively the oldest living Slayer, and her Watcher.” He then turned to a group of three women, a redhead, and two brunettes. “This is Willow Rosenberg, one of the most powerful witches living today, Dawn Summers, Buffy's sister, and a Watcher, and Faith Lehane, the second oldest living Slayer, and last of the Chosen.” He then turned to Gwen and the man Jack thought of as her pirate. “And rounding out the group are Xander and Gwen Harris. You already know Gwen, but what you don't know is that she is also a slayer, though not one of the Chosen. Xander is her husband, and a Watcher. This group, with the exception of Gwen Harris, forms the Board of the International Guardians Council. The Council holds a great deal of political power with many sovereign governments around the world, and, individually, each of these people are very powerful, and are greatly respected in the arenas in which they operate.”

Riley looked back to General Hammond and SG1, and grinned. “And they can also kick butt like nothing else.”

Riley then turned to his friends, and returned the favour. “Everyone, this is General Hammond,” he indicated the older man, “who is in charge of the whole project. With him is SG1, which is comprised of Colonel Jack O'Neill, Major Sam Carter, Dr Daniel Jackson, and Teal'c, and I'm pretty sure Gwen's already filled you in on who they are and what they do.”

Daniel shook his head slightly, and looked at Riley. “I'm sorry, but how could she do that? How could she know all that. I don't think we were that specific in our introductions.”

“Well, if nothing else, Gwen's father has a similar background to Colonel O'Neill, and noticed the similarities. Also, she is very widely read, so she already knew a great deal of your and Major Carter's work, and was able to recognise both of you immediately. As for Teal'c, well, she could only figure him out from her frame of reference, which gave rise to some significant issues, which led to Willow removing her ahead of schedule.

“What do you mean by 'significant issues'?” Jack asked, frowning.

“In our terminology, he's a demon,” Buffy stated, arms folded.

The Stargate personnel gaped at her. “You're serious? A demon?” Daniel exclaimed. “But... You're American? You're modern, educated, first-world people. How can you even talk like that?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Xander smirked, “after the first few dozen, you tend to get a bit blasé.”

“Few dozen?” Jack confirmed.

“By the end of our sophomore year,” he quipped.

“You were dealing with 'demons' at college?” Jack demanded.

“Ah, no!” Xander replied, to Jack's (brief) relief. “High school.”

“Uh huh. High school. So you were dealing with – what? – oogly booglies under your beds?”

“Vampires, and witches, and werewolves, oh my! Actually, our witch dated our werewolf, and Buffy here dated two vampires, though not at the same time,” Xander nodded. “Oh, and we met Dracula, for real and actual. And his brides,” he added, with a smirk towards Giles.

Jack turned back to the General and Riley. “Whatever he's on, I want some.”

Riley rubbed his face. “Xander, you're really not helping.”

Xander grinned unrepentantly.

“Maybe a demonstration would help?” Giles offered.

“Yeah, sure, you betcha,” Jack grumbled.

Barely had he finished his words, than he found himself sprawled very uncomfortably on the floor, one arm twisted painfully behind his back and a blade resting against his throat. He fought his instinct to struggle, and looked back at the rest of his team. Teal'c was being held similarly immobile by the brunette slayer, Faith, while it seemed he was being held by Gwen. The rest of his team were being covered by Gwen's people, who had produced battle-axes, a sword, and even a crossbow in the hands of the other brunette, Dawn, from seemingly nowhere. The redhead's hands were empty, but appeared to be glowing. Every last one of them were alert, and appeared more than ready to end the fight quickly and decisively. He tried to shift, but Gwen's hands were impossibly strong, and wouldn't budge. How could she even do that when she had slammed into the Gate Room ramp only how many days ago? Weren't her arms still broken?

General Hammond swallowed before speaking. “Thank you, Mr Giles, I think that's enough of a demonstration for now.”

Giles nodded, and Jack felt himself being lifted effortlessly to a standing position. Gwen briefly rubbed his arm and shoulder to ease the pain she had caused, before slipping her knife back to wherever it had come from, and moving back to her husband.

Jack rubbed his throat, and glanced back at his, now shaken, team. “So... Demons. How's that work out?”

“Demons exist,” Buffy stated. “All those monster stories people like to think are just stories? Most have a basis in fact. The things that go bump in the night? We bump back.”

Faith grinned. “We're the thing the monsters fear.”

“There's this whole speech thing, about the world being older than you know, and how vampires began, and the 'one girl in all the world' bit, though that's a bit outdated now... Giles is really good at it, too,” Willow chirped.

“So vampires are real,” Jack began.

They nodded.

“And magic?” Sam asked, looking concerned.

“It's how I was made a slayer,” Gwen confirmed, looking for all the world like a sleepy cat in Xander's arms. Jack frowned, and decided he would never look at sleepy cats the same way again.

“And you fight them,” Daniel queried. Something was tugging at his mind, some more-than-half forgotten story.

“Since high school,” Buffy agreed sunnily, valley girl/cheerleader persona firmly in place.

After a moment's stunned silence, Giles spoke up. “So, now that you know about our side of things, how about we discuss... Deep Space Telemetry, was it?”

~~~~~

“So what do we think?” Buffy asked the group.

Faith glanced at the others, and shrugged. “Is this really our fight? I mean, what they fight, they don't really rely on magic, or anything like that, do they?”

“No,” Giles agreed. “Everything looked very much to be of the natural order. I'm sure Willow and Gwen could understand what they were talking about better than I could, but it all seemed very scientific, and, well, mundane.”

“Yeah, and that goolie thing in Teal'c is a real being, not some extra-dimensional demon, right?” Buffy asked.

“Gha-uhl,” Giles corrected absently. “Or Goa'uld if we use their pronunciation. Yes, according to their explanation, it is extra-terrestrial, not extra-dimensional. Of course, when they were on Earth throughout history, they were referred to as demons, but that was because the thought of life on other planets simply wasn't considered. Add to that their inherent abilities, and extensive use of technology...”

“You haven't said anything, Gwen. Surely you have an opinion on this?” Buffy asked the other slayer, arching an eyebrow.

She shrugged. “Not our world, not our war. We have enough to deal with, and sometimes you just have to compartmentalise. Personally, I'd love to go play in their sandbox, but generally? Nothing to do with us. Besides, that last fight we had? How many did we face? Five hundred, from memory. And we had to call in slayers from across the world. We are not equipped to fight on their scale. We don't have the numbers to incorporate their war fully into our own.”

“It probably would pay to keep open lines of communications between our groups,” Giles agreed, “but I believe we are, indeed, separate entities, fighting utterly separate wars. I don't see that we have any more right of oversight in their situation than they do in ours. Is everyone agreeable?” When everyone nodded, he continued, “Well, since the board is here, do we wish to take a formal vote on the matter?”

“Might as well,” Xander suggested.

~~~~~

“So... Demons,” Daniel murmured as the team sat around the table. They had been given time off to process the information revealed by Gwen's people, the IGC. They had had an informal dinner at Jack's place, and were now just sitting.

“Vampires,” Jack added, twirling the hand carved stake Faith had given him. He did not want to know where she had retrieved it from, he decided as he remembered her skin-tight clothing. Thin air, hopefully.

“I can't believe they actually use magic! I mean, I still have that amulet I used to get out of that house, and it's just a stone. I tested it. There's nothing in it, it's just a piece of onyx, engraved with runes. But when I tried to leave the house without it, it felt like bouncing off a brick wall, and when I put it on, it was like suddenly nothing was there. So it was magic, I guess. But...”

“It is difficult to accept something that cannot be explained by the senses, or plain science,” Teal'c suggested. “Stories told to the young are meant to remain just stories, not a war fought by little girls and their attendants.”

“Hell, yeah,” Jack agreed. “They were just kids. Hell! They're still just kids. Gwen and Dawn are only twenty-one? Twenty-two? And the others are only a few years older! Just kids,” he whispered.

“All the same, I'm kind of glad it's not my war,” Daniel confessed.

Jack shuddered. “The Goa'uld are bad enough. Vampires are just freaky. And they fight them every single night. Huh!” he decided. “We should get some of those slayers to rotate through the Stargate. Tell them to consider it a holiday,” he grinned. “Come fight wimpy-ass bad guys with flash toys, and time off in between fights!”

Teal'c considered telling his commander that he didn't really thing the Jaffa should really be advertised as 'wimpy-ass bad guys' but thought that might encourage him, rather than anything else.

Jack grinned at his team. “So what do you think?”

Daniel shook his head. Sam just sighed. “Janet's a bit freaked out,” she added. “It's been less than a week, and Gwen's arms are just about healed. I watched her after she...” Sam tried to think how to put it gently.

“Took me out, put me down, handled me like a toy: make your pick, Carter.” Jack shook his head. “I don't even remember going to the ground. What about you, buddy?”

“SlayerFaithLehane moved with incredible speed and skill. I did not observe her move, and was not able to defend myself once I felt her hands on me. I was also unable to move her once she had me in position. Her strength and speed defy all natural laws.”

Sam shook her head. “All I remember is you talking with Mr Giles, and then you and Teal'c on the floor, and … weapons.”

“Where did they come from?” Daniel wanted to know. “They had to pass through security checks, and everything. How did they smuggle battle axes into the SGC?”

“I'm going with magic,” Jack decided, waggling the stake. “'Vampires, and witches, and werewolves, oh my!'” he quoted softly.

The world would never look the same to them again.

~~~~~

Note: I have used various acronyms for the reformed Council, because there are various sections that come into play at different times. I’m in the middle of creating the organisational chart for those who want to know, and it will give all the names and acronyms I’ve used so far, as well as how they’re separated out. (And my daughter complains that her brother is compulsive. Where does she think he got it from?)