A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts:
How Not to Write a Stargate Crossover
by P.H. Wise
"Hello, people who I have never met," Buffy said, eyeing the group known as SG-1 abjectly-trustingly-exceedingly-honorarily-temporarily-
antecedentarily-coagulatarianistily-forgotmytrainofthoughtily, "Would you like to know all my secrets, including and especially the ones I would never tell even my closest friends?"
"Only if we get to tell you our classified military secrets, for which Deep Space Radar Telemetry is obviously not a bad cover story," General Hammond replied, smiling... prozaically.
Buffy nodded voltairily. "Good idea. You first."
Whistler appeared out of thin air. "Actually, me first. Buffy, you're Daniel Jackson's soulmate. You two should totally get it on and have lots and lots of babies together. Just thought you should know."
Daniel blinked amorously. "That's impossible. Jack and I are like, totally together."
Samantha Carter blinked ironically. "That's impossible. Jack and I are like, totally together."
General Hammond blinked overburdened-put-upon-ily. "... Is there anyone on this team who isn't screwing Jack O'Neill?" he asked.
Sam, Jack, and Daniel all exchanged uneasy looks.
"Indeed," Teal'c said stoically. The author smiled a satisfied smile and cracked his knuckles, satisfied with a job well done and ready to move on now that he had demonstrated his encyclopedic knowledge of Teal'c's character.
General Hammond sighed and popped another handful of prozac. He'd never needed the stuff before this job...
Buffy blinked bloodthirstily. "Didn't I say I was going to wear your ribcage for a hat if I saw you again?"
Whistler shrugged nonchalantly. "I figured you were being metaphorical. Anyways, it's not like my ribcage would make a very good hat. I guess you could take it if you really want it, though what I'll do without a ribcage I don't rightly know. Bone white and bloody aren't your colours, though."
"... Anything else?" Buffy asked.
Whistler shrugged. "Nah, that was pretty much it."
Buffy glared innocuously. "Right. Ribcage. Hat." She walked up to Whistler and proceeded to tear him into tiny pieces with her bare hands. A minute later, covered in gore and wearing a ribcage for a hat, Buffy turned back to SG-1 and General Hammond. "Right. So, where were we?"
"Apparently about to make lots and lots of babies together," Daniel Jackson said querrilously.
Buffy nodded determinedly. "Works for me." She then dragged Daniel off into Jack O'Neill's pimp room and had mad passionate monkeysex with him.
Daniel didn't complain, even if he did find the ribcage hat a bit creepy.
Jack did. "Damnit, Daniel!" he shouted I-can't-think-of-another-terrible-adjective-ly, "You know the rules! Nobody on this team can have sex unless its with me!"
Author: "Jinkies! Ferrets stole my brain!"
Author's notes: Sadly, no small number of Stargate fics actually mirror this pretty closely...