Buffy and Dr Beckett
This is the first of several short unrelated fics with Buffy and the SGC. Instead of a bunch of separate stories I just wanted one place I could dump all the stuff related to Buffy SGC unless I get any longer fic ideas, but I'm avoiding that. I have too many unfinished longer stories to work on in the new year. Let me know if you like any of them, and I'll consider a second or third chapter. I don't own these characters, Joss Whedon, and whoever created Stargate own the rights to Buffy and etc.
Buffy and Dr Beckett
“Ok, then what happened?” Weir asked.
“Is this really necessary?” Buffy asked.
“Yes, now answer the question.” Weir replied.
“Fine. I played soldier girl on the hive, killed a bunch of wraiths, rescued Johny boy and his crew, blew up the ship, and there was much rejoicing, yaaah.”
General O’Neill snorted and Weir sighed.
“Now, I played nice, and told you everything that happened, can I please go sit by the bed of my injured doctor honey?”
“Dismissed,” the general said.
“Let it go Weir. I expect a detailed report by 0800 hours.” Jack said smirking at Buffy.
“Not so much rejoicing.” Buffy replied.
As she flipped through an old copy of Vogue waiting for Carson to wake up, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard came into the room and sat in the other chair. “No change?”
“Nah, head wounds are funny like that. He could wake up in five minutes or five days.” Buffy replied and continued to flip through the magazine, feigning confidence she didn’t really feel.
John nodded and pretended to examine the room, his nails, pulled on the strap on his pants and eventually pretended fascination with the design on the chair he sat on.
“What?” Buffy asked, and slammed her magazine down on the table.
“What do you mean what?” John asked.
“You’ve examined every part of the room, your nails, and every inch of your shirt, there is no lint on it by the way, just ask.” Buffy demanded.
“You could have anyone you wanted, Ronon, hell even General O’Neill, but you chose Carson Beckett. You said it yourself, you hate hospitals and doctors, and isn’t he a little old for you?”
“Compared to Jack?” She raised her eyebrow at him. “What you really want to know is what a hot California slayer like me sees in a stuffy older doctor like Carson.”
“Well isn’t it sort of expected of a former cheerleader to go after a rich doctor?” Buffy asked popping her bubble gum for emphasis.
“But that’s not it. You haven’t been a cheerleader for fifteen years.” John said.
“Does it really bug you, or are you genuinely curious?” She asked and grabbed Carson’s hand.
“Curious. My mother, a military woman, not unlike yourself in confidence and strength of character, married a geek. When I asked her why she didn’t marry another soldier, why she married my father, she got this funny look in her eye, smiled, and said she loved him.”
“Love isn’t enough for you?” Buffy asked.
“No, I get that people fall in love, I just, I don’t know. She was a supermodel, warrior, and a PhD. She could have had anyone, and she chose a short, mild mannered geneticist, and he was a lot less wealthy than Carson is. What do you have in common with the doctor?”
“You want to know why I don’t want to be with a sex god like Ronon?”
“Have you ever dated a woman that is stronger than you?” She asked.
“Would you be ok with that?” Buffy asked.
“Well, if that’s true, you’re one in a million, but whenever I date normal guy, or soldier guy they can’t deal with the fact that I’m the warrior, stronger, faster, and the protector. If I date a real warrior like Ronon, its fun for a while, but my whole world becomes war, battles and fights, not just work, but everything. All the stories we tell are war stories, and all the play time is violent. Everything is about a challenge and the very air I breathe is filled with an electric charge, as if we are always almost ready to storm the castle.”
“Carson doesn’t do that?”
“Not so much.”
“So he’s normal, or is this an opposites attract thing?”
“I’m too far gone for normal, but yeah, he’s not a warrior, and all our conversations are not about fighting techniques or battle strategy. He treats me like a girl, and not a brother in arms.”
“Makes a kind of sense, huh?”
“Yeah, more than your speech patterns but I still don’t think it makes sense. You could have any of the scientists on this base, why Carson? Is it the accent?” He grinned at her as if he’d caught onto her secret.
She shrugged. “He asked, and he’s sweet. He brings me flowers, and takes me to dinner.”
“That’s it? He asked and he’s an old romantic?”
“Yeah, and he’s cute.”
“Cute? Carson Beckett is cute?”
“Yeah, and he’s got a great body underneath that lab coat.”
“I didn’t need to know that.” He paused, “so all this time you’ve been with us, nobody else asked you out?”
“Nope. You’d be surprised how intimidated guys are with strong women. Has anyone asked Tayla out?”
“But solider afraid of asking a girl out?” He asked, thinking they were usually pretty brave. Then again, he knew some that would run into battle without a prayer or even a weapon, but in the face of women, they were the barely capable of speaking.
“Especially soldiers. They know men, and guns, but not how to treat a woman, especially one that’s stronger, faster and better at the military thing.”
“So if I would have asked you out, before Carson, you might have said yes?”
“Let’s not go there. That way leads to badness.”
“Fine, but if someone else did? Are you saying nobody asked you at all? None of the guys stationed here?”
“That’s what I’m saying, but even before he asked, I was interested.”
“Really. Remember when he patched me up after the second mission I went on? That man has the magic touch.” She waggled her eyebrows and smiled.
“Stuck on that word, huh? Yes, really, and he listens to me. When I told him not to stitch me up if I ever showed up with a couple of little slices, he listened. Stitches are not my friend, unless like, my whole arm is hanging off or something. Most docs ignore me when I tell them that. He didn’t.”
“Not what you thought?”
“It’s simpler than I thought.”
“You thought there would be some kind of story where I hit his car, and we exchanged numbers, and then we talked a couple times, and there was something there that you couldn’t figure out, like he looked like my dad or something, or he saved me from some demon, but it’s all about the flowers, and the non-stitches, and his smile and those blue eyes, and flippy spiked hair he spends way too much time on, and that’s saying something coming from me. But, it’s not all that complicated. It just is. I love him.”
“Have you ever been in love John?”
Looking at her intensely, he nodded. “I think I have.”
“Then you know there are a million reason, and none at all. I just love him.”
John returned the next day to find Buffy snuggled up to the doctor on the hospital bed clinging to him as she slept, and smiled as Carson opened his eyes. “You’re a lucky man.” John said.
“The envy of Atlantis.”
“Take good care of her.”
“You know if I don’t, there’s a witch on earth that can do things…” He shivered. “And she’s not even the worst. I don’t even want to repeat what Commander Harris said to me. I think I’d rather face a wraith without a weapon.”
John laughed and Buffy stirred, but went back to sleep. “I thought she’d look more innocent in her sleep.” John said.
“Aye, but she’s just as terrifying.”
“And just as able to hear you.” Buffy said.
“Don’t worry Buffy, I was just reminding Dr Beckett how lucky he is.”
She opened her eyes and glared. “That’s funny because it sounded like you were talking about how scary my bedhead is.”
“Can you blame me?” He turned his head to the mirror next to the bed, and stumbled back as she made a grab for him. “Good luck, doc, you’re going to need it.”