Disclaimerlicious: Buffy, Angel and Stargate do not belong to me.
NOTE: This is set in the future after Illyria has worked with the SGC for a while. It may or may not be slightly AU.
There were many days that General Hammond wished he had retired and this was definitely one of them. For some reason, many, many of those days had something to do with a certain Colonel O’Neill. This was no exception. There was one difference. This particular situation wasn’t O'Neill's doing; at least he hoped it wasn’t. No, this one was definitely all Illyria.
“Good morning, Illyria,” he had said. “Please… have a seat.”
She had nodded at him curtly and remained standing.
“You may sit if you wish,” she informed him.
So the general sat, feeling like a small school boy in the principal’s office, instead of the seasoned general he actually was. Illyria seemed to have that effect on a lot of people. Most of the time, he was quite happy for it, since he really didn’t need to intimidate the enemy when she did it quite so effectively. She was the ultimate bad cop to the SGC’s cadres of good cops. It did not feel comfortable to be on the ‘wrong’ side of her wrath, however.
“I wish my pet to have a suitable mate,” said Illyria.
“I’m sorry?” he asked.
“My Jack is alone. This is unacceptable,” she informed him.
“Have you discussed this with Jack?” he asked.
“He was uncommunicative.”
“Perhaps you should leave it alone, then?” Hammond suggested, really not liking the direction this conversation was taking.
“That is an unacceptable option.”
“I think Colonel O’Neill is old enough to decide who he wishes to be with.”
“Of course,” said Illyria. “That is not the problem.”
Hammond was relieved to hear it until it hit him what she was referring to. Hammond bit his tongue. He had a very uncomfortable feeling he knew what was coming next.
“These are,” she said. “You must have them changed.”
“These are fraternization regulations,” said Hammond, with a sinking feeling. “These are out of my control.”
Sometimes Hammond really hated being right.
“Then you will take me to those responsible.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then I will visit the president,” Illyria said. “My Jack will have his Carter.”
“Ms… Illyria…” he cleared his throat, trying and failing to come up with a suitable answer. It didn’t matter. She was already gone.