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Damned Protocol

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This story is No. 1 in the series "Dawn's Luck". You may wish to read the series introduction first.

Summary: There is an unscheduled off world activation, a scheduled interview and a paperwork mix up.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Stargate > Dawn-CenteredinsomniareaderFR717641122,89428 Aug 1328 Aug 13Yes
Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few oddly named electronics and a falling apart bookshelf.

Dawn blamed Buffy. Buffy and Giles. Plus Xander. It was all their fault. And now she was locked in a conference room with klaxons blaring.


The flashing red lights were starting to give her a migraine, when she heard footsteps in the hall. She called out, “Hello? Mr. Soldier Man?! I’d like to leave now!” As the footsteps receded she groaned and dropped her head.

“Damn them. ‘Oh Dawn, you need to expand your horizons.’ ‘Dawnie, you should go to this interview. Riley said it’d be perfect.’ Stupid Riley.” Making a fist she propped up her chin and glared at the door.

After 3 cycles of 99 bottles of beer on the wall, 17 matches of tic tac toe ( 5 won, 12 stalemates) , and 1 attempted nap; the door finally opened.

Before the uniformed man was able to speak, Dawn cut him off. “I don’t want the job anymore. I don’t care that you have the Chappa’ai, I did, but that lost its appeal 3 hours ago. I want my laptop and phone and a bathroom, because I’ve been in here for 5 hours with no explanation. I understand it was an emergency of some sort, but man? So. Not. Cool. I’ll be at my hotel. You send that Paul dude by again and I’ll sign more of your papers, whatever, but guys. Really?”

Standing she gathered her things then stooped to grab her shoes. “Oh and FYI. You owe me a foot rub or something because these shoes? They are pretty. They go with my outfit perfectly. But they are only to be worn for 2-3 hours TOPS. So I don’t care about your damned protocol, I’m going barefoot.” That said, she stomped out, skirts and hair swirling behind her.

With wide eyes, one of the airmen glanced at Hammond, then hurried after her, barely catching up before she’d reached the elevator. There, she glared the guard into submission and entered, not even waiting for her escort.

A final searing look was given before the elevator doors shut, leaving a slightly stunned General behind.

“Well, shit.”

“Hey Giles, it’s Dawn. You’ll never guess what I just spent the last 5 hours doing. NOTHING! Absolutely nothing, except sitting in a locked room. So you know what? I’m done. With interviews. With job hunting. And with gaining freaking life experience!

“You tell Buffy and Riley and Xander and every freaking one of you nincompoops who think they know better for me than I do that they can go jump in a volcano. I am working for the Council, and that is final. Oh, and I’m going to order bucket loads of ice cream on the government’s dime, and I better not hear a single bloody word against it.”

Having left one of the longest and most cathartic messages on his voice mail, Dawn slapped her phone shut and stalked to her car. A very hard thing to accomplish bare foot, but she managed it.

“Are you telling me that we lost one of the most promising civilian applicants due to a paperwork mix up during a training exercise?” Hammond arched a brow, causing the airman before him to wince.

“Yes, sir.”

Sighing, the general stared down at Dr. Dawn Summer’s file. She was perfect for the SGC. Multiple doctorates in ancient languages, 2 black belts, and a proficiency for weapons that any recruiter would love. The only down side was her age, but that could be overlooked. And now they’d lost her.

“Send her a chocolate basket and a gift card to the closest spa. With any luck, we’ll be able to put her on our list of consultants. I’ll call Major Davis and inform him. Meanwhile you will track down whoever did this and make them tell Dr. Jackson that the colleague he’d been hoping for is no longer available and make sure they explain why.”

The airman nodded then left the room, leaving his superior to his duties. Which were, as of that moment, glaring at the door, and hoping that nothing like this ever happened again. Leaning forward, he picked up his phone and punched in a long ago memorized number.

“Major Davis please…. Paul, hello. This is George. We have a little problem. Yes. Another one.”

A.N.: Ask and ye shall receive. Some people wanted me to write the Stargate allusion that I made in Red and Gooey, well here it is. Don't act like I never gave you anything. Again, if you feel that there would be another funny story to add, review and it may spark something in this crazy mind of mine. Hope you like it.

The End

You have reached the end of "Damned Protocol". This story is complete.

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