Grousing and Guns
Title: Grousing and Guns
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright Joss Whedon and ME. Stargate SG-1 and all related characters and dialogue are copyright of Brad Wright, Jonathan Glassner, Showtime and the SyFy Network. No infringement intended.
Prompt: jalbasmg/Buffy, Vala, Sam/Kicking ass and saving the guys of SG-1.Grousing and Guns
There were a lot of things I was looking forward to once I got back to Stargate Command. A hot shower, a cold beer and a decent night’s sleep were pretty up there on the list, but once my boots hit the ramp I was informed of an impromptu debriefing that had Jackson and I exchanging grumbles of acceptance and Teal’c arching a brow higher than I’d seen in a long time. The man might not voice his opinions, but he got them across just fine if you knew what to look for and I could, finally, say that I was one of those few.
“Vala.” Jackson muttered as he passed me.
I caught up with him in two quick steps and countered, “Summers.”
There was a quiet rumble behind us before Teal’c added, his voice resigned and yet still somehow managing to sound superior, “Colonel Carter.”
We shared a nod in agreement before making our way to the room overlooking the Stargate that acted as General Landry’s main debriefing room. Now don’t get us, or perhaps more precisely, me wrong; I do like the other members of our team, but since we’d grown to six I’d noticed a divide between the sexes and try as I might I had yet to find a way to bridge that gap. Broaching the subject with Carter had gotten me an amused look and informed I was imagining things—again. (Don’t ask ‘cause I’m not getting into that mission.)
Summers had been next on my list, she was a new addition to the Stargate program and had pretty much become the ‘go to’ person which seemed to chafe Jackson in all the wrong places. He didn’t understand, hell I didn’t either, how she’d become the base counselor in less than six months with scientists and military alike wanting her opinion on the mundane to the classified. She was smart, not the way Jackson was, but she had that spark that made people want to be around her and, according to Carter, Jackson had that spark once, before his years at war with various alien races and many deaths snuffed it to a bare ember.
Jackson was someone you always wanted at your back, but he’d lost his curiosity and his urge to explore and I’m pretty sure he wanted it back which was why he was always doing his damnedest to be assigned to Atlantis. I guess he wanted to immerse himself in something new, something that hadn’t yet had all its facets explored and catalogued. I think he envied Summers’ excitement and enthusiasm. She, and I, still saw all of this as a grand adventure which was probably why it took Jackson so long to warm to me.
Huh—epiphany thy name is Cameron Mitchell.
In spite of Summers’ ‘go to’ status she’d been less than helpful with ways to bring the team together and since I’ve no intention of ever
asking Vala for help I’m on my own and currently dragging my sorry ass up a flight of stairs. Jackson’s slightly in front of me and it doesn’t sit right that he’s taking point into the room, but he’s pretty damn spry for an archeologist so attempting to get past him at this point is, well, pointless.
Instead I resign myself to another debriefing filled with glowing reports about Carter and Co. while the remaining members of SG-1 act as fillers or as Summers’ liked to put it ‘eye candy.’
Why had I allowed myself to be dragged into the Stargate Program again?
O’Neill owed me a beer.
Or a keg.