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This story is No. 1 in the series "The Extraordinary and Unusual Adventures of Squad3". You may wish to read the series introduction first.

Summary: Meet Squad Three -- a squadron of Slayers run by Spike. Post-Chosen, not Season Eight compliant.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Spike-CenteredGwirryFR1367,652033,32515 Jun 1129 Jun 11Yes

Dead Guys and Aliens

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Stargate: Atlantis or PJO. Or Buffy.

A/N: sorry it took me so long to update this one. More coming soon!

The young man sitting at the bar downed another shot.

“You going to keep that up all night?” Spike said, taking a seat next to him. Hotel bars were mercifully free of adolescent girls, so it was there that Spike fled when the ramblings of his Slayers got too much.

“Tartarus, yes.” The man replied. “Ten years ago today my sister died.”

“Ouch. Anniversaries of deaths are the hardest, I find.” Spike said, waving down the bartender and asking for a Guinness.

“You betcha.” The man sighed. He picked up the next glass and drained it, rolling the now-empty glass between his fingers.

“I’m Nico, by the way.” He said. “Nico Di Angelo.”

“Spike Fletcher.” They shook hands.

“You’re a vampire.” said Nico. He didn’t look surprised about it.

“That I am. Most people can’t tell just by shaking my hand though.”

“My Dad.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My Dad could tell by looking at you.”

“Really now.” Said Spike, looking intrigued.

“He’s Hades.”

There was a moment of silence while Spike considered this tidbit of information.

“Want to come with us?”

“Us being who, exactly?”

“Me and my crazy band of demon-fighting teenaged girls. And Sammy boy, of course.”

Nico looked at the vampire in a very calculating manner.

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great.”

The trip would be interesting, and Percy would just die laughing when he told him what had happened.
Nico Di Angelo had just signed on with what was basically a version of the Hunters of Artemis.


Ronan Dex looked down at the card in his hand. It was plain – just a name (Alexander Harris), a
position (Head of Public Relations, with a scribbled out acronym replaced with ‘The Phoenix Academy’) and a phone number. He glanced at the phone on the nightstand of his motel room, and then gazed out the window at where the man with the eyepatch was packing up three cars with the help of three other men in the pre-dawn haze.

“So, Pippa, Connor and Vi are with me, Matt, Andrew and Locke are with Xander, and Rona, Shannon and Nico are with Sam.” said the bleach blond man in black as he loaded the last bag into the big black chevvy Impala. The three others nodded.

“Ready to go, then?” asked the younger man in the aviator’s jacket.

“You should probably get in the car, Spike. But let’s wait a bit before we wake up the girls, hey?”
Xander looked up at the motel, hoping that the big Satedan would agree to come work for them,
Ronan would be a great sparring partner for the girls, and he could probably teach them a thing or two about fighting, and help them get better. Ronan, up in his room, picked up the phone and dialled the number.

“Hello?” Xander answered nervously, oping it wasn’t Willow or Buffy on a new number.

“Hello, Harris.”

“Ronan! Decided whether or not you want to come with us, then?”

“You seem very organised.”

“You have to be, when you’re travelling with teenagers.”

“Who, technically speaking, is in charge here?”

“Spike. But Spike and sunshine are objects of the non-mixy variety, and so we kind of share it.”

Ronan considered this. He felt useless without gate missions, and like he didn’t belong. Helping the girls would allow him to have a purpose again. While he thought, he watched the Slayers come into the car park and gather around Xander, listening intently to the phone line.
Finally, he made his decision.

“Got room for one more?”

The sound of excited squeals from the Slayers echoed up the phone line.
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