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A New York State of Mind

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This story is No. 2 in the series "Sketches-verse". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: New York City's oldest detective has fathered many children over the centuries, including the one stolen by the Order of Dagon. BtVS/ New Amsterdam

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > New AmsterdamLMiCFR131021,70614815,25725 Mar 082 Nov 14No

Meet the Family

Meet the Family

 

Disclaimer: I still do not own BtVS, New Amsterdam, SG-1.

 

Spoilers:  Same as before.  Sketches is mentioned a tiny bit more in this one.

 

Omar’s Club

 

“John, stop fidgeting.  The girl will show when she does.  All that wiggling around is making you look like a school boy needing a bathroom,” Omar York chided as he served his father a soda.  “Who is it tonight anyway?  Just in case I have to remember where I left my ‘best behavior,’” he continued to tease.

 

John Amsterdam, who had stopped fidgeting, managed to look sheepish as he looked at his drink to answer, “Your half-sister.”

 

Omar’s hand stopped moving on the counter and he stared humorlessly at the detective in front of him. “That is not funny, John.” 

 

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” he asked seriously.

 

“How old is this girl?  Does she know or are you breaking the news to her tonight?” Omar continued to ask.

 

John smiled as he started to answer, “She knows my age and the legend, though she calls it ‘a prophesy.’ And she knows she is meeting you tonight, but I didn’t tell her your age because…” 

 

“Because she doesn’t like to judge a book by its cover nor people either.  Hi, you must be Omar.  I’m Dawn Summers,” she said shaking hands with him across the bar.

 

“Nice to meet you Dawn.  Maybe ‘Pops’ will relax some now that you’re here,” Omar teased and relaxed. 

 

“Sorry about that,” she said looking chagrined.  “Unfortunately I can only stay a few minutes.  I just got back from England three days ago.   I spent more time than I wanted of the last two weeks trying to get a visa for my nanny in England.  It never happened so Danielle and I are here, and Willow offered to babysit tonight.  I’m going to head back early since Danielle is getting used to our new place and I have a pretty full day tomorrow.  I have to interview and do background checks on potential nannies and then worry if they will freak out at the first “dust up” they see.  Oh heck, I’m babbling.”

 

Dawn winced and covered her mouth.  Omar frowned and watched John for his reaction.

 

John laughed and hugged her, “You babbling is like breathing, it just happens naturally.”

 

“Only when I’m aggravated,” she agreed.

 

“That breathing thing wasn’t happening so naturally for you a few days ago,” Omar interrupted rolling his eyes before settling them on Dawn and pointing at John. “He had a heart attack in the subway and died in the ER.  He came home an hour later.  He thinks he’s found ‘the one.’”

 

“I don’t think much of this prophesy.  Well I can’t say I like many of them.  They give too little helpful information and too much jerking around. Damn it! This sucks,” she sighed. “John, if you die on my watch, I will kick your ass.”

 

“Noted,” he smirked.

 

“You talk about prophesies like you deal with them every day,” Omar stated questioningly.

 

“I do.  I’m an ancient documents translator for the WCI.  Well, that is when I’m not off buying the documents or trinkets or whatever they decide they need this week.  Technically, I’m in charge of the New York office.  The bookstore is one of our public faces.  But most of what I translate are prophesies.  Then we do our best to subvert the bad ones at least,” she stated with a hint of pride.

 

John looked up, shocked when she had said the company name.  “You work for that bunch of old farts?”

 

“Actually a few years back the ‘wool-gathering constipated imbeciles’ as we like to think of the unofficial name for the old version of the Watchers Council International found themselves blown to bits.  The force that was behind that eventually turned Sunnyhell into a crater.  We limped out of Sunnyhell on the last vehicle out, an old yellow bus.  Not long afterwards, we reformed the Council and because we’d all lived on the frontlines, we are able to give it heart and perspective,” she finished emphatically.

 

John nodded, gravely.  He understood frontlines and how perspective could change things.

 

“I need to get going.  I have one more stop to make before I have to be back.  Faith has a bet with Xander that I won’t sing ‘It’s Not Easy Being Green’ at a friend’s karaoke club.  I promised Willow that Xander would win.  Omar, here’s my card.  Call me.  I mean it,” she said handing him the card with a smile.

 

She hugged John.  Kissed his cheek and headed out into the night.

 

 

 
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