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This story is No. 3 in the series "Joyce O'Neill". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Colonel Jack O'Neill gets an unexpected phone call from his niece, Dawn, and gets pulled into something he never thought he'd get pulled into. Who knew girls could be so much trouble?

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Stargate > Dawn-Centered > Theme: Dawn's Real FamilyMercyJonesFR734,33345316,57619 Aug 0819 Feb 10No

It's a Marshmallow Thing

Alright, I really need to stop this 'I have a new idea for a fic!' thing. But this idea was just too good for me to ignore. I blame eponine and the story 'Hearts Adrift' for this... though it's nothing like it... just kind of gave me the idea...

Disclaimer: I own nothing. No SG-1,BtVS, AtS or even SGA(which may come into play later, thought I highly doubt).

Timeline: A year after BtVS season 7. SG-1 after Death Knell, but before Heroes (Janet Fraiser is still alive, as she should be and the alliance between the Tok'ra and the Jaffa has been disbanded.)


It had been a good day.

OK, that was a lie. The Tok'ra couldn't seem to get over the high and mighty attitude they shared with the Goa'uld, no matter how many times they denied this. It didn't matter though. They had finally pulled out of their so called alliance.

Jack scoffed at that.

Just what kind of alliance was it really? They had refused the friendship until someone had agreed to be a host, seemingly not understanding why Humans had such a hard time discerning them from the Goa'uld. Finally, they got Jacob Carter. In Jack's opinion they couldn't have had a better person for the job, and not just because the man had been dying. And how many times did they save the Tok'ra's butts? Just how many Tok'ra did they offer refuge to when their home, excuse me, base was destroyed? How many Goa'uld did SG-1 defeat while the Tok'ra sat on their butts all day infiltrating doing recon? And they had the nerve to get mad that SG-1 had no clue they had killed Tok'ra when no one bothered to tell them where they were stationed?!

In Jack's honest opinion, the end of their treaty had been a long time coming. He had actually expected it to happen sooner and by the SGC's command, not the Tok'ra. Or the Jaffa for that matter.

That latter one had surprised him more.

As upset as he was with that one, he understood it somewhat. He didn't want to, but he did. 'Course he also respected the Jaffa more than he did the Tok'ra.

He blamed Teal'c for that.

Shaking his head, Jack O'Neill cleared his tired vision and turned his sights back on the road. It had been a long day, that's for sure.

His mind wandered back to the bloody and bruised Carter. She had been so exhausted and depleted, Jack had worried she was going to faint right there. But true to her form, Carter – after a moment's rest – had picked herself right up and limped towards the Stargate and to the infirmary, where she still resided under Dr. Fraiser's supervision. Normally, he would have stayed the night while one of his team members rested in the infirmary, but Hammond had insisted he leave. That they all leave. It was the perfect opportunity for SG-1 to take some much needed down time.

Bringing his truck to a stop, Jack glanced at his watch. He had stayed as late as he could, and as a result was just now getting to his house around 10 o'clock at night. With a groan, Jack grabbed his abandoned leather jacket from the seat next to him and headed towards his house. He really wished it was his cabin in Minnesota instead.

Jack threw his coat somewhere in the living room and made a bee line straight for the kitchen. A sound of despair left him as he saw the fridge's beerless interior. He stalked back into the living room, intent on leaving and going to the liquor store when he noticed the light blinking on his answering machine.

Jack walked over and pushed the play button, curious at to who would call him, let alone leave a message.

Message recorded at 7:15 pm.

“Uncle Jack?”
The small voice caused Jack to freeze. He hadn't heard that voice in years. He also hadn't been called 'Uncle Jack' in the same amount of time. “Um... yeah... I know this is kinda outta the blue and everything... well... I-It's Dawn, by the way...” Jack continued to stare at the machine in awe, of course it was Dawn, how could she think he wouldn't recognize her voice? Then again it had been years. “Uh... I-uh... I did something really really massively stupid.” He could hear the hesitation in her voice as she debated with herself whether or not to continue. “I... I-I need help.” Her voice cracked and Jack's heart tugged. “I took the bus... I'm at the bus station place... C-could you pick me up? I don't have anyone else to call... I'm not really sure what else to do... Uhm... yeah.” Beep!


Jack glanced at his watch. It was about 10:20. Dawn would have been at the bus station for a good three hours, maybe four by the time he got there. Without a second though, Jack rushed forward grabbed his coat and keys and dashed to his truck.

The last time he had talked to Dawn,'s mom had been about the time he had lost Charlie. He had heard about his estranged baby sister's death and had every intention of going to the funeral, but that stupid addicting light that somehow caused people to commit suicide had stopped any chance he had. Since then, Buffy and Dawn, who had always called him once in a while stopped completely. He didn't blame them. Especially after he heard that Hank also hadn't made it to the funeral.

It was kind of ironic. The whole reason he and Joyce had been so estranged had been because of Hank. She had been head over heels and Jack hadn't approved. After the divorce, just as they had begun to patch up their relationship, the incident with Charlie happened. Joyce had tried to be there for him, but having her hands full with two girls, a new job, and a new town, she hadn't had much time. Jack never blamed her for that.

As a result, Jack had never had the chance to really get to know either of his nieces. Yet here he was, rushing to get to the bus station.

It took a good forty-five minutes. It was dark when he pulled up. One sweep with his eyes and he knew she wasn't there. A surge of disappointment flushed through him as he wondered where she could have gone. His eyes landed on a diner not too far and he headed over there, jogging across the abandoned street.

Jack ignored the bell and glanced around the diner. There weren't very many people: a couple giggling in the corner, obviously drunk; an old man doing a crossword puzzle; two cops sipping their coffee and laughing at some joke; and a young girl playing with a cup of water, a dreary look on her face.

The girl looked up as he stepped next to the table. She stared at him a moment and blinked before his identity registered.

“Uncle Jack?”

“Hey, kiddo.” Jack slipped in the seat across from her and gave her a small smile. “Got here as soon as I could. Didn't get home 'til 10.”

“Oh.” Dawn's attention turned back to the cup, her straw moving in repeated circles. “I just thought you weren't coming.”

“Of course I would come." His voice was soft, not in the least offended at her assumption. How could he blame her? “Gotta say, I'm surprised you'd ask though. Wanna tell me what that's about?”

Dawn shrugged, not in the least surprised at his curiosity. “I'd rather not get into it right now.” She waved hand. “It's this whole big marshmallow thing.” She took a sip of her water.

“Marshmallow?” He rose an eyebrow. “You're upset because of a marshmallow thing?”

The question was followed by another shrug. “It's sorta a sister thing too,”

“I see.” Jack sighed, realizing he wasn't going to get much else from the seventeen year old. “C'mon,” he slipped out of the booth and motioned for her to follow him. She did. “Let's get you to bed, kid.”

Dawn just nodded and followed her uncle out of the diner.
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