BtVs created by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Stargate SG-1 by Gekko Productions, MGM/UA and others.
Early Season 6/Buffy. Season 7/SG-1
Note: This is a somewhat improbable fic. I doubt it'd happen this way. These are the images I had when I saw the FFA, put in order on paper. I hope it's a fun read... even if the story's logic is a bit weaker than I'd like. On that note, if there's anything you'd like fixed/refined please point it out :)
"Thank you for watching Amy for me, General, while I'm on the away mission. I'd leave her on base, but she doesn't like being alone much underground - especially after Dr. Fraiser drew blood for that test. With one of those medium size vet needles rather than the teeny ones we did for her acupuncture when she was freaked out because I was studying for my finals and she was picking up on my stress and thank you for giving me this job even though I don't have an advanced degree, though I'm still taking the on-line courses. This is the first time I'm bringing my laptop and homework off-world, will the radio signal that the gate translates be strong enough for me to go on-line?"
"I'm sorry, the SGC prefers that the world-wide web not be surfed on by people off-world. Especially considering the recent eBay scandal. However, if you prepare your assignments in a timely manner you may be able to arrange for one of the staff here to post them in their off-duty
hours." General Hammond said, smiling faintly at the SGC's new resident witch and her amazing lung power. "I'd also personally prefer that you didn't refer to it as an 'away mission', we try to keep the random death totals a bit lower than they were on that show."
"I really appreciate this, sir," Willow replied, positively beaming. She cracked a surprisingly professional salute, spun on her heel and left the room.
Hammond shook his head and shuffled a few papers on his desk. After a bit, he reached inside a desk drawer, pulled out a sandwich and began putting small pieces through the bars of the cage while making little soothing noises in the back of his throat. "I kept a pair of rats for a month. Cute things, like you. Christmas presents for my grandchildren. I became somewhat attached, which is why I really don't mind taking care of you. Don't tell anyone," he whispered conspiratorially. "Then again, even if Ms. Rosenberg figures out how to turn you back into a human, you probably won't remember this anyway."
Hammond made sure that Amy was safely curled up in a corner of her cage with ample bedding, before turning out the light and climbing into bed himself.
A few hours later bright flashes of light lit the room. When they cleared, the room contained neither man nor (small) beast.
Hours later - well into the dead of night - the lights returned, depositing Amy and Hammond back into his home.
She promptly woke and - after a few seconds of fumbling - managed to turn on the light.
She sat there on the edge of the bed, wondering why she was in a strange room, dressed in men's pajamas that were several sizes too large for her... with a sudden craving for cheese...
When she saw the cage and it's thick and furry occupant something went 'click' in her head.
"Listen," she said as she walked slowly towards the male rat. "I'm not sure where I am or who you were, but I'm pretty sure that I've been stuck in a spell for awhile and from your smell, you're pretty much drenched in it. Now I'm quite happy not being furry, but it's not that bad a life. However, not knowing how we've switched, I'm left with two choices. Either I steal your car and drive away as fast as possible, hoping that I don't suddenly shrink and crash. Or I could destroy the spell completely, which means that it might just be time for Mr. ratty-watty to meet Mr. microwave..."
Before she could finish that thought, lights flashed and the room was empty again.
...Asgard Ship in Earth Orbit
Amy Madison nearly swore a blue streak upon being transported to an alien ship with a big picture window showing the big ol' blue and green but, after realizing that the two arguing little grey-and-purple aliens weren't paying attention to her (yet), she managed to keep her mouth shut.
"Loki, just because you are on parole and authorized to carry out limited experiments concerning Earth's magic, does not give you any right to change General Hammond into an unintelligent lifeform."
"Heimdall, need I remind you who provided me with Dr. Fraiser's report and
approved of my request to abduct the rodent as soon as it was conveniently off the base."
"Regardless, you should have left the human on Earth."
"I needed a test subject for the transference. I wasn't expecting you to object enough that you would let me transform you instead of the General. I was very pleased."
"Yes, but the idea was to spare the General completely. Not for you to then move the effect from me to him and return them to Earth in the wrong forms while I was still recovering."
"A simple mistake. How was I supposed to tell them apart?"
"Your logic is highly suspect. You likely wanted to cause trouble for the organization that led to your capture. You made this error, purposefully. Now fix it," Heimdall ordered as he turned away.
Amy hadn't understood the conversation - because it hadn't been an Earth language - but she decided it was time to speak up. "If you guys are going to undo whatever you did, I just have to say that you aren't being fair. You have no
right to let me wake up, walk around and then shove me back into that tiny body. That tiny mind
"I'm sorry," Heimdall answered in English. "We have the ability to investigate the spell and transfer its energy, but we have no way of removing said energy from existence."
"To put it in terms you may understand," Loki clarified. "There is no 'delete' key. Not without sacrificing an unspecified portion of the host."
"Listen, you're aliens, right? I can cast spells and likely have an insight into magic that you lack. I can stay here, help with research, if I'm able to talk. I can... I want to be an asset," Amy begged. "Can we work something out?"
Waking up with a tail was interesting, to say the least. Realizing that Amy wasn't in her (locked from the outside) cage was a shock.
General George Hammond spent the better part of an hour tearing apart his home trying to find the rodent. As he searched he kept muttering about contagious wererats and redheaded witches who couldn't give proper handling instructions.
When the search proved fruitless, he went into the bathroom and stared at his altered reflection.
For the first time in years he considered buying a comb.