06 August 2019 - Homeworld Briefing
Title: Homeworld Briefing
Author: Beriaearwen
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Stargate: SG1
Characters: Buffy Summers, General Jack O'Neill
Rating: FRT - suitable for people over 13
Word Count: 1207
Disclaimer: The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Stargate: SG1 belong to their various creators, producers, production companies, etc. and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Jack is not looking forward to his next briefing
Homeworld Briefing
by Beriaearwen
Leaning back in his office chair, Jack took a moment to let his mind stop and reflect on his life.
He'd spent a large portion of his life hiding his intellect and perfecting a shell that even he sometimes believed. As he aged, as he stepped into the rather large shoes General Hammond had left first at the SGC and later at Homeworld Security, more and more of his true self had been revealed. He may have railed against 'The Man' for a good portion of his life and career, but he was smart enough to know that the only way to make lasting changes was to take the position of 'The Man' himself.
He also knew that he political games were just as deadly - in a different way - as any mission he'd been on and required every bit of his strategic ability developed on the battlefield. His time in Black Ops had taught him the necessity of doing distasteful things to ensure the security of his family and county. This was just a new level.
His next meeting was going to be a trial and he wished, really wished, he could just toss aside the mask and speak plainly to this representative; however, given what he'd been read into and the history of this person, a part of him wanted to keep her in the crosshairs of his sniper rifle until she was securely locked away. On another planet. With no Stargate so she couldn't escape.
His phone buzzed before his secretary announced, “Miss Summers of the New Council is here.”
Taking a deep breath, Jack hit the intercom button and replied, “Send her in.”
The door opened as he rose from his chair. The blonde who walked through his door was every bit as young as he was expecting, but, despite what the files said, she seemed both smaller and larger than he expected. “Miss Summers,” he greeted, using his hand to indicate the chair opposite him.
“General O'Neill, with two el's and a sense of humor,” she returned with a smile.
That earned her the ghost of a smirk from him. “Someone's been telling tales,” Jack observed, retaking his seat.
“In this case, I assure you it was only good things.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Jack began, leaning forward in his chair, “but no one was willing to say much about you.”
Buffy's expression became more serious as she nodded. “Unfortunately, that's for the best.” At his raised eyebrow, she added, “For the same reason it's best not to know that aliens exist.”
Jack met her eyes and carefully kept his face neutral and slightly puzzled. He was an old pro at this game. “You believe in aliens?” he asked, adding just a hint of disbelief.
Buffy smiled, this time patently fake and knowing. “Be that as it may, there are some realities that exist on Earth that need to be discussed no matter how difficult they may be to believe.”
“Ah, yes. The Monster Of The Week Club.”
Buffy's expression didn't change, but somehow became darker. “Well, as long as you know.”
“What I know,” Jack replied, face serious and putting aside his previous banter, is that pardoned or not, you and your organization are little more than terrorists acting under the thin gloss of an international company relying on the old boy's network to get by.”
There was a beat of silence. “And on how many worlds does your face appear on the top 10 most wanted?” she countered.
Though his face reflected none of it, internally Jack couldn't stop the wince and mental comment of 'touche'. “I have no idea to what you are referring.”
“Of course you don't,” Buffy replied, her tone and expression bland.
Jack could just picture the eye-roll that went with that statement. He really wanted to know how she had access to that sort of information and wondered what charges he could bring upon her and her organization for knowing. “Miss Summers,” he began before she cut him off.
“General O'Neill. I was hoping we would be able to develop a pleasant relationship since we will be working together. As you have read, we work jointly with a section of the US Military called the DCI - Demon Control Initiative. They are under your command, my people are under mine. All operatives in the US read, sign and abide by the agreement your lawyers and ours hashed out over several months. We are not part of your military organization, nor will we be. You may not like us, what we do, how we operate or anything else about us, but what we do, we do well, in secrecy and we have been doing for thousands of years before the US was ever a country and we will be doing it long after all of this has turned to dust. We were hoping to forge a comfortable working partnership with the government and your department in particular. Our job is hard enough without having to play politics, or worse, being unable to trust our allies added to it.”
Jack met her eyes and held them. He ran her words and the sincerity of them over in his mind several times and kept coming back to the fact that, with a few minor alterations, it was almost exactly the same as a speech he'd given himself. The look in her eyes was like looking in a mirror.
It had been a long time since his suspicious nature allowed him to take anything on faith, to take a chance on trust, but if you couldn't trust yourself... Taking a breath, he decided to take a leap of faith. This was his last meeting of the day, so he offered, “That's enough posturing for today, don't you think? What say we get out of here and do something else for a while before discussing things more in depth over a working dinner?”
After a moment, Buffy smiled, relaxing a fraction. “What did you have in mind?”
“Fishing?” Jack offered, not surprised when her nose wrinkled.
“Shopping?” she countered.
An upward quirk at the corners of her mouth told him she wasn't serious. His own unguarded expression earned him a full smirk from her. “Hockey?” he tried, his mouth curving in a smile.
Buffy shook her head, her smirk becoming a smile. “Figure skating?”
Jack chuckled once and shook his head. “Bowling?”
Buffy's head tilted to the side, considering. “Ten pin?”
“Deal,” Jack agreed, standing and holding out his hand.
Buffy also rose and shook the offered hand. “Where and when should I meet you?”
After exchanging the necessary details, he escorted her to the door of his office and held it open for her. Jack didn't think he would ever be at peace with her organization, their methods or their reality, but he also knew he had little choice but to work with them within the framework worked out by the previous administration.
Turning toward his desk, he gathered what he would need for the night and headed toward the door wishing, not for the first time, that George was still around to guide him.
End.
Author: Beriaearwen
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Stargate: SG1
Characters: Buffy Summers, General Jack O'Neill
Rating: FRT - suitable for people over 13
Word Count: 1207
Disclaimer: The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Stargate: SG1 belong to their various creators, producers, production companies, etc. and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Jack is not looking forward to his next briefing
Homeworld Briefing
by Beriaearwen
Leaning back in his office chair, Jack took a moment to let his mind stop and reflect on his life.
He'd spent a large portion of his life hiding his intellect and perfecting a shell that even he sometimes believed. As he aged, as he stepped into the rather large shoes General Hammond had left first at the SGC and later at Homeworld Security, more and more of his true self had been revealed. He may have railed against 'The Man' for a good portion of his life and career, but he was smart enough to know that the only way to make lasting changes was to take the position of 'The Man' himself.
He also knew that he political games were just as deadly - in a different way - as any mission he'd been on and required every bit of his strategic ability developed on the battlefield. His time in Black Ops had taught him the necessity of doing distasteful things to ensure the security of his family and county. This was just a new level.
His next meeting was going to be a trial and he wished, really wished, he could just toss aside the mask and speak plainly to this representative; however, given what he'd been read into and the history of this person, a part of him wanted to keep her in the crosshairs of his sniper rifle until she was securely locked away. On another planet. With no Stargate so she couldn't escape.
His phone buzzed before his secretary announced, “Miss Summers of the New Council is here.”
Taking a deep breath, Jack hit the intercom button and replied, “Send her in.”
The door opened as he rose from his chair. The blonde who walked through his door was every bit as young as he was expecting, but, despite what the files said, she seemed both smaller and larger than he expected. “Miss Summers,” he greeted, using his hand to indicate the chair opposite him.
“General O'Neill, with two el's and a sense of humor,” she returned with a smile.
That earned her the ghost of a smirk from him. “Someone's been telling tales,” Jack observed, retaking his seat.
“In this case, I assure you it was only good things.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Jack began, leaning forward in his chair, “but no one was willing to say much about you.”
Buffy's expression became more serious as she nodded. “Unfortunately, that's for the best.” At his raised eyebrow, she added, “For the same reason it's best not to know that aliens exist.”
Jack met her eyes and carefully kept his face neutral and slightly puzzled. He was an old pro at this game. “You believe in aliens?” he asked, adding just a hint of disbelief.
Buffy smiled, this time patently fake and knowing. “Be that as it may, there are some realities that exist on Earth that need to be discussed no matter how difficult they may be to believe.”
“Ah, yes. The Monster Of The Week Club.”
Buffy's expression didn't change, but somehow became darker. “Well, as long as you know.”
“What I know,” Jack replied, face serious and putting aside his previous banter, is that pardoned or not, you and your organization are little more than terrorists acting under the thin gloss of an international company relying on the old boy's network to get by.”
There was a beat of silence. “And on how many worlds does your face appear on the top 10 most wanted?” she countered.
Though his face reflected none of it, internally Jack couldn't stop the wince and mental comment of 'touche'. “I have no idea to what you are referring.”
“Of course you don't,” Buffy replied, her tone and expression bland.
Jack could just picture the eye-roll that went with that statement. He really wanted to know how she had access to that sort of information and wondered what charges he could bring upon her and her organization for knowing. “Miss Summers,” he began before she cut him off.
“General O'Neill. I was hoping we would be able to develop a pleasant relationship since we will be working together. As you have read, we work jointly with a section of the US Military called the DCI - Demon Control Initiative. They are under your command, my people are under mine. All operatives in the US read, sign and abide by the agreement your lawyers and ours hashed out over several months. We are not part of your military organization, nor will we be. You may not like us, what we do, how we operate or anything else about us, but what we do, we do well, in secrecy and we have been doing for thousands of years before the US was ever a country and we will be doing it long after all of this has turned to dust. We were hoping to forge a comfortable working partnership with the government and your department in particular. Our job is hard enough without having to play politics, or worse, being unable to trust our allies added to it.”
Jack met her eyes and held them. He ran her words and the sincerity of them over in his mind several times and kept coming back to the fact that, with a few minor alterations, it was almost exactly the same as a speech he'd given himself. The look in her eyes was like looking in a mirror.
It had been a long time since his suspicious nature allowed him to take anything on faith, to take a chance on trust, but if you couldn't trust yourself... Taking a breath, he decided to take a leap of faith. This was his last meeting of the day, so he offered, “That's enough posturing for today, don't you think? What say we get out of here and do something else for a while before discussing things more in depth over a working dinner?”
After a moment, Buffy smiled, relaxing a fraction. “What did you have in mind?”
“Fishing?” Jack offered, not surprised when her nose wrinkled.
“Shopping?” she countered.
An upward quirk at the corners of her mouth told him she wasn't serious. His own unguarded expression earned him a full smirk from her. “Hockey?” he tried, his mouth curving in a smile.
Buffy shook her head, her smirk becoming a smile. “Figure skating?”
Jack chuckled once and shook his head. “Bowling?”
Buffy's head tilted to the side, considering. “Ten pin?”
“Deal,” Jack agreed, standing and holding out his hand.
Buffy also rose and shook the offered hand. “Where and when should I meet you?”
After exchanging the necessary details, he escorted her to the door of his office and held it open for her. Jack didn't think he would ever be at peace with her organization, their methods or their reality, but he also knew he had little choice but to work with them within the framework worked out by the previous administration.
Turning toward his desk, he gathered what he would need for the night and headed toward the door wishing, not for the first time, that George was still around to guide him.
End.