: All things Buffy belong to Joss. BSG belongs to Ron D. Moore. I'm just borrowing their characters for a bit.
Lee watched the young man in front of him. He had been hastily assigned to ‘show you around’ while Dawn’s family-including a sister who was not Kara- questioned her about who he was, where she’d been, and- the part that shocked him the most- why she appeared several years younger than when she’d disappeared from her own time.
That put a startling new perspective on Starbuck’s ‘kid sister’. If he’d understood right, in real terms Dawn was his own age, not seven years younger. She also had a lot more experience with scripture and mysticism than she’d ever let on to anyone in the fleet. That much he’d caught before the man in front of him, who reminded him painfully of President Roslin’s young aide, had shepherded him out of the room.
After a lightning tour of the grounds, a library, some conference rooms, an entertainment center, and a vague wave in the direction of the upper floors with the explanation that there were ‘bedrooms up there’, the man had asked if Lee wanted anything to drink. Actually, after all he had lived through in the last twenty-four hours, Lee would have gratefully knocked back a whiskey or an ambrosia. He doubted that was what this guy had in mind.
But he accepted all the same. For some reason, the other man was on edge, and he seemed to be looking for an excuse to get himself a drink, probably to steady his nerves. Human behavior probably hadn’t changed all that much in the long blink that had been a hundred and fifty thousand years. That number still staggered him.
Lee followed his babysitter into a kitchen that wouldn’t have been terribly out of place back on Caprica. The appliances might be slightly different in style, but it wasn’t hard to identify their basic functions. His tour guide busied himself in one of the cabinets, taking his time making a selection from an astonishingly large array of beverage holders. Lee wondered if they had the same names as what he was used to, and what beverages they put in them.---
Andrew rattled the cupboard door nervously. Why did he get stuck with this? There were any number of baby Slayers around who could handle this situation better than him. They would have a lot less to worry about- they could take care of themselves. He glanced to the side at the man he was ‘showing around headquarters’ while everyone else demanded answers from Dawn.
This was stupid.
There were two things Andrew was absolutely sure of. One, this guy either was Dawn’s boyfriend or he wanted to be. Why else would he come with her a hundred and fifty thousand years into the future? Two, the man was used to being armed. It showed in the way he walked, and in the way his hand had gone for a non-existent weapon at his side when Rona had startled him outside. He also walked like he knew how to handle himself in a fight.
Andrew had gotten used to dealing with vamps and demons, but men who could kick his butt with one hand tied behind their back still triggered a Pavlovian response. Thus the nervousness. That’s why he had made for the kitchen after the briefest possible tour of the ‘public areas’. No one had said it was ok to let the mystery man in on all things Slayer, so the training rooms were out. That left the kitchen as the most likely place one of the Slayers might be around to protect him. Well, visibly protect him. There were probably Slayers within screaming distance. Giles and Buffy wouldn’t deliberately feed him to the wolves.
That had been the theory, anyway. When they had arrived, the kitchen was empty. Probably because by now, every Slayer who could had an ear pressed to the conference room door. They wanted to know what had happened to Dawn, too.
Out of excuses to avoid Dawn’s friend any longer, Andrew turned around with two mugs.
“So, um, coffee or tea? Or do you not know about either one?”
The taller man regarded him in mild amusement.
“Coffee, please. It’s been a while since I had any.”
“Right, sir. Creamer and milk are in the fridge if you want, sugar’s on the counter there.”
“You don’t have to call me sir…”
Dawn’s boyfriend looked at him quizzically. In his current state of nerves, it took Andrew a minute to realize that he was waiting for him to fill in a name. If he had been introduced to the Scoobies, it had been before Andrew had been hastily summoned to get him out of the way.
“Andrew. Dawn really should have done introductions before they kicked us out- I mean, before they asked me to show you around the building.”
The man smirked.
“I think you were on the right track the first time, Andrew. I’m Lee Adama.”
Andrew extended a hand, which Lee shook without hesitation. Apparently they had had handshakes 150,000 years ago.
“So, I guess this is all really different than what you’re used to,” Andrew said.
Lee looked around.
“Actually, it’s a lot like what I’m used to.” Andrew thought Lee sounded slightly disappointed. “I thought it would be different. Maybe it all really does happen again.”
Andrew was puzzled. A hundred and fifty thousand years ago, they definitely hadn’t had microwaves. Hadn’t humans still been developing on the savannahs of Africa at that point? Oh, what the heck. If they didn’t want him to ask questions, they shouldn’t have left him alone with Lee.
“You mean this has happened before?”