Fic: Fallen Heroes Angel/Daniel, Angel/Wes implied FRAO overall, FRT this part) 2/?
AtS/Stargate SG1 crossover
Spoilers: Ats: AU from end of S4, spoilers for Conviction; SG1: AU from Fallen (s7:ep1).
Summary: AI is changed; can a mysterious stranger help them?
Disclaimer: Angel the Series and Stargate do not belong to me. There is no infringement intended. This work of fiction is purely for entertainment purposes and there is no profit being made.
Distribution: If you really want this, just ask.
Beta: the goddess,
antennapedia, any mistakes left are my own.
Feedback: better than chocolate.
Author's Notes: First part here. Thanks to
jedibuttercupfor the links to information on Daniel. And to
fiareynne, she knows why.
Art by
fiareynne
Daniel was sitting in Angel’s office. He’d been given clothes, some new glasses, a clean bill of health and his name. It felt like that should mean something, have some connection for him. His name was pretty much all he had now. He was told he’d been found by Angel, mysterious brooding door guy, in a hotel. That was all they knew. Or all they were telling him.
Whoever Angel was, he commanded a lot of respect and awe from everyone Daniel talked to. Looking around the office, Daniel admired the décor. Behind the desk, mounted on the wall, were a variety of weapons. The sword looked Oriental in origin. The axe was possibly pre-Roman. Daniel just knew these things. It was unsettling.
The woman he’d met in the clinic, Fred, had shown up with books, a computer and lots of questions. He was smart, knew things, just another piece in the puzzle that really didn’t mean much. Daniel saw a book lying on the desk and picked it up. It was a diary, belonging to some guy named Wesley. He was bored, so he started to read it. He didn’t know how much time had passed when he was interrupted by a…growl?
“Put that down.”
Angel stood in the doorway, anger coursing through him. Daniel jumped and fumbled the book.
“I’m sorry,” Daniel said, putting the book back on the desk. “I had no idea when you would be here and I was bored and that was just sitting there and I’ll just be quiet now.”
Angel stalked into the room, well aware that Daniel’s eyes were on him. He’d been doing some investigating of his own. He sat down at his desk, put away the diary and looked at the man before him. Doctor Daniel Jackson, age thirty six, doctorates in archeology, anthropology and linguistics. He’d been on the fast track to fame and fortune until he’d started spouting wild theories on the origins of the pyramids. Most of his colleagues believed him missing or deceased. But here he was, sitting in Angel’s office. Angel would keep what he’d found to himself for now. The doctors seemed to think it would be better for Daniel to remember it by himself.
“He had some interesting things to say, Wesley that is,” Daniel said. “Did you know him?”
“We were friends.” And so much more.
“Would it be possible to meet him? I’d love to discuss some of his theories on linguist shifts due to cultural mores with him.
“He’s dead.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
They assessed each other for a moment.
“I should, uh, thank you for bringing me here.”
“It’s what I do.”
“You go around rescuing complete strangers and bringing them to your…law firm?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Daniel shifted in his chair. “Um, Fred said there was the possibility I could come and work for you.”
“I know. What do you have to offer?”
“It seems I speak several languages. Twenty-three in fact. Read a few more. I have knowledge of ancient cultures. There might be more, but Fred is unsure of how to find out.” Daniel paused. “There was something in the diary. Wesley wrote in a language I’m unfamiliar with, but suspect might have roots in Aramaic or possibly Sumerian. I’d love a chance to translate it.”
Angel cocked an eyebrow. He pulled out the diary, flipped through the pages, read a moment, and then gave Daniel a look. He closed the diary but didn’t put it away. Then he leant forward, hands clasped together.
“How open minded are you, Mr. Jackson?”
“Daniel, please. Um, all I know is what I’ve learnt thanks to your employees. I have no idea who I am, where I’m from or what I do. So I guess I’m pretty open minded.”
Angel sat back, opened the diary and pushed it forward. It was open to the passage Daniel had been referring to.
“That, Daniel, is Kosca, a demon language.”
Daniel frowned. “What exactly are you saying, Mr. Angel?”
“It’s just Angel. I’m saying that every myth, fairy tale, horror story you’ve ever read or heard of has some truth to it. Demons, monsters, they exist.”
Daniel stared at him.
“You need to understand what is out there, Daniel. If you come to work for me, you’ll be encountering these things every day. Sometimes we fight them, sometimes they’re our clients. You’ll be working side by side with demons and monsters.”
“You mean like Lorne? That wasn’t a costume, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t. And there’s me.”
“What are you?”
Angel shifted his features. “I’m a vampire.”
“Oh.”
Daniel fainted.