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A Hacking Good Time

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Summary: General Stargate Fic for Sam James: Willow hacks her way into the hearts, and base, of Stargate Command.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Stargate > Willow-CenteredKeiFR1514,7768810928,38325 Aug 0425 Aug 04Yes
CoA Winner CoA Winner
AN: A General Stargate Fic for Sam James who wanted to see an Action/Drama
fic featuring a non witchy Willow and Xander in geek mode (my words, mind you).
I tried for the Action/Drama, I really did, but I think a substantial amount
of Comedy snuck in despite my best efforts. I just couldn't help myself.

And yes, I'm working on Trick or Treat. I swear I am.

Timeline: Buffy, about five years Post Chosen, Stargate really anytime before
Daniel ascends and after Sam becomes a Major.

Also, don't get too hung up on mechanics and impossibilities- technically
speaking. I know I didn't.

Disclaimer: Don't, won't, wish I own them.

********************** A Hacking Good Time *************************

Major Samantha Carter, US Air Force, sighed as she signed onto her computer
and that damned welcome screen flashed on again. Naked Kinsey had replaced
bondage Colonel Simmons, but the swap didn’t make the program any more welcome.
Sam had to appreciate the gall it took to infect the entire US government’s
computer systems and databases with a program that took over anytime a computer
booted up.

The program included a delightful array of known NID baddies, in various stages
of undress or full frontal nudity, dancing across the blinking pink screen to
the tune of the Hamster Dance. It had been running for nearly two weeks,
every boot-up, without fail.

Gossip in the techie circles all over the nation was that all pictured had
poked their collective noses where they didn’t belong. Apparently someone,
a VERY good someone, had taken offense to the NID’s nosiness. No one had
been able to remove the program permanently from any system- it was THAT good.
Whoever had designed it was that good.

Sam would give her left arm to know who they were.


Willow smiled happily as she disconnected from the Internet. Revenge could
be a sweet, sweet thing, especially when it involved public humiliation.
Teach Kinsey and his bastard friends to try to interfere with the Slayers

The Initiative had been bad enough- the NID was just ridiculous and if Willow
had learned anything in the last twelve years, it was how to take care of her
own. She’d even done it without magic this time around, which made for a happy
white wiccan.

Xander sailed in and peered at the screen for a moment, his one eyes narrowing
to read the script. “Still screwing with the Feds?”

The smile stretched to a contented, cat with cream grin. “Mixing them up like
a Grade A Salad.”

Xander chuckled and tugged her shoulder length hair. “Working on witticisms
with the Buffster again?”

She pouted, dark lips out. “Is it that obvious? Buffy swears I’m getting

Her best friend snorted. “Buffy called an afro Vamp Chia Fang the other
night. She hasn’t been up to punning form lately.”

“Well, I’m trying my darndest.”

Xander grinned cheekily. “And that’s all we can ask of our little Willow.
Especially when your best involves the total degradation of our enemies.”

Willow echoed the cheeky gesture. “What can I say- I do good work.”


Well, whoever it was who was campaigning to make Kinsey’s life a living hell
did good work. That was all Sam could say on the matter, though she wished
she could say a hell of a lot more- like ‘Hi, you’re hired’. It would be a
coup to A) figure out who was making such splendidly devilish programs about
everyone’s “favorite” Senator, and B) convince him or her to come aboard the
SGC program. They could really use someone who was smart enough to avoid
hundreds of electronic government trackers and still find the time to come up
with new creations.

The newest one featured Senator Kinsey in a lovely lavender, off the shoulder
dress, accepting the Miss America crown for Ugliest Woman Alive.

Colonel O’Neill had almost peed his pants the first time Kinsey had sauntered
across his screen. Sam needed to remember to order him a new keyboard- soda
and electronics really didn’t mix. Sam really, REALLY hoped that her favorite
hacker did a swimsuit version, although, she wasn’t sure she had the stomach
for a bikini.

Sergeant Davis poked his head into her office, his usually stoic face wreathed
with smiles. “Major Carter, I have something that is about to make you a VERY
happy woman.” When she raised a single golden brow in his direction, thank
you Teal’c, the smiles slowly grew. “We just got a lead on our hacker’s
screen name, no identity yet, but, a screen name…”

Sam stood and snatched the files out of Davis’s startled, yet very pleased
hands. She scanned the pages rapidly before finding the first clue that had
been eluding the United States’ best and brightest for nearly six months.
Their hacker went by GunsNRoses.


“Are you sure she just couldn’t put a hex on them or something? Boils maybe?”

Xander rolled over on the bed in Buffy’s room to face Faith, who was trying on
Buffy’s clothes in the mirror. He really should tell her to stop, because Buff
would be pissed when she found out, but Faith really did look better in red
than the blonde Slayer did.

“Aww, let her have her fun, Faith. Wills hasn’t been this giddy since she
caught Andrew peeping on her and she put superglue in his toothpaste. If
mentally tormenting a few idiotic bureaucrats makes her happy, then I say,
what’s the harm?”

Faith snorted and contemplated ripping the sleeves on the sweater she was
wearing. It’d look hot. Besides, then Buffy wouldn’t want it back. She’d
really be doing the other girl a favor anyway- red SO wasn’t for B’s coloring.
“Does she have to be so damn theatrical about it, though? I mean seriously,
GunsNRoses? Who knew Red had such a flair for the dramatic?”

“I think it makes perfect sense. Think about it- she’s our Big Gun, and her
hair has the whole roses thing going on, especially depending on the dye job
of the month, plus, her last name- Rosenberg.”

The brunette Slayer frowned and ripped the sleeves of the sweater before
smiling at her reflection in the mirror. Wood and an altered Saks Fifth
Avenue outfit did her body good. “Yeah except last time we pulled out our
Big Gun we got stuck with dozens of hormonal teenagers needing wet nurses.
I’m not old enough to be a momma to no one. Shit, I just got old enough to
properly take care of myself.”

Xander’s gaze lingered silently on the scars on her newly revealed arms that
even a Slayer’s healing couldn’t fully heal- scars Faith bore courtesy of
Kinsey and his goons. She scowled at the shaggy haired man on the bed. “Bite
me, Cyclops.”

His light laughter echoed in her ears as dark eyes returned to her reflection.
Faith reached up and brushed the network of crisscrossing scars on her upper
arms. Her full mouth tightened with the memories that she would haunt her as
surely as her first Watcher’s tortured screams.

GunsNRoses indeed. Go Red- give em’ hell.


Colonel O’Neill was going to give her hell if they lived through this. That
was the predominant thought running through Sam’s head as her fingers flew
across the keyboard in the Control Room. Damn, damn, damn!

Why did the Colonel ALWAYS have to be right about these sort of things? Why
couldn’t they just ONCE find a nice, friendly, technologically advanced
civilization that wasn’t secretly plotting their downfall?

And the Aruzans had been so nice. Open, upfront, cheerful even.

Sam, Daniel, Teal’c, even the rest of the SGC, had been sucked right in.
Colonel O’Neill had hated them at first sight, of course. You think they’d
all have learned to take his gut reactions more seriously after the first few
near disasters.

But the Aruzans had presented such an attractively wrapped present- an advanced
society with highly, HIGHLY, advanced technology who were ever so willing to
share. Technology that made Sam drool.

Technology that made the remaining sections of the NID drool. GunsNRoses had
been very thorough- it was difficult for members of a secret government
organization to operate once their positions had been revealed. Sam, and the
rest of the SGC, didn’t miss those who had been routed, foremost among them
being the newly resigned Senator Kinsey. Ahh, that had been a beautiful,
beautiful day. Teal’c had even shown a bit of tooth in his smile that day and
Daniel, Daniel had spent the day skipping around Level 28 in giddiness. She
had caught General Hammond smoking a Cuban cigar in his office and Colonel
O’Neill had whistled ‘We Are the Champions’ for nearly a solid week.

Of course, three months into their buddy, buddy friendship with Earth’s newest
bestest pals, the Aruzans sprung their trap. Apparently they were so
technologically advanced because they made it their mission to strip the
technology of any moderately advanced society they came across and subjugate
the defeated people.

Very parasitical Goa’uld and Roman conqueror of them. Sam would dearly love
to know what it was that made leeching off of other cultures so attractive to
the species and societies they came across in their travels. Of course,
saving the world AGAIN was going to have to take priority to her philosophical

“Major!” snapped a pinched General Hammond, “Where do we stand?”

Sam’s fingers faltered as she sat back from the keyboard and looked at the
older man. She swallowed and tried to keep the fear from her voice. Wasn’t
quite sure she was totally successful. “We can keep them at bay for another
eight or so hours at most before they take over our entire technological

Everyone in the Control Room looked out the glass to the Gate Room. The
Stargate sat quietly, blue and shimmering, held open by a specially developed
encrypted code the Aruzans had developed. Once projected, the Aruzans had
total control of the opposite end of a gate. Even once the window of time
relapsed, the code enabled the other species to re-dial quicker than the SGC
ever could manually.

The special shield generator the Aruzans had sent through the first time they
opened the wormhole made sure that nothing the SGC could do would destroy the
gate from Earth’s side. The other Earth gate was equally shielded.

In eight hours the Aruzans would have total control of every computer or
computer related technology on Earth- from missile systems to the New York subway.
A few keystrokes and they could end millions, billions of innocent lives, all from
a galaxy or three away.

“And then?” Hammond asked, voice oddly gentle.

Sam closed her eyes tightly as she answered. “And then they’ll send their armies
through and… and we won’t have any chance of fighting them. Even a hydrogen bomb
would barely make a dent in their Gate Room. You know they alloy they use as
reinforcement in all their structures. We’ve all had tours of their military
facilities. I’m sorry to say this, sir, but this may be it.”

Colonel O’Neill sent her a lopsided smile. “Who knew the end of the world would
come from three foot tall Oompa Loompa knock-offs?”

Well, he had. How could they have been SO stupid?


Willow frowned as she scanned the laptop screen in front of her, one neon blue
nail absently tapping one cheek as she thought. Who could possibly be stupid
enough to try to infiltrate her network? She had more firewalls in place than
most Fortune 500 Companies.

Granted, the program seemed to be particularly malignant and doing a pretty damn
good job. Not good enough, of course, but good. Too good.

Her frown deepened as a few keystrokes sent her sailing through the Internet.
Apparently she wasn’t the only system that the program was trying to penetrate.
Apparently, her system was one of the few networks that HADN’T been successfully
taken over. Humm…

Red brows furrowed as she began to trace the program to its source and found
that the Internet wasn’t hit nearly as hard as all the supposedly secure networks
for different world governments. Willow whistled. An unknown taking over
missile defense systems was not of the good. Following the program’s infection
back to its source lead her to an obscure, very well guarded network of computers
located in Colorado Springs, under one Cheyenne Mountain.

Ahh, yes, Willow remembered book-marking that particular government project for
extracurricular reading later on when she had been going through her ‘Mortify
Kinsey’ revenge plan. That system had been noticeably more difficult to crack
and the base’s cover lie of ‘Deep Space Telemetry’ was a definite cover-up. They
didn’t come up with names that stupid unless there was something truly interesting
to find.

Dawn interrupted her train of thought as she poked her head into the witch’s room.
“Hey Wills, dinner is ready. Buffy made mac-and-cheese.”

Willow looked up and smiled at the young woman’s airy cheeriness. Amazing what a
Watcher’s position had done for Dawn’s self esteem. Although, if Willow was her,
she would have been perfectly happy just being the Key to the Universe. But,
that’s how ambitious young people were nowadays.

“I thought you got Buffy cooking lessons for last Christmas?” Dawn had gotten
Willow a lovely leather bound journal for Hanukah with gold etchings and quotes
from the world’s best known spells. Very thoughtful.

The younger woman shrugged ruefully. “After Buffy blew up the kitchen twice they
gave her a cash refund for the lessons and kindly asked her to never come back.
She bought some tacky red sweater from Saks.”

Willow rather unsuccessfully stifled a chuckle. “The one that Faith tore up the
other day?”

Dawn giggled. “The very one. Buffy threw a hissy fit but I didn’t mind. That
shade of red is so NOT her color.”

Willow nodded sagely; she wholeheartedly agreed.

“So,” Dawn prompted again, “dinner?”

The red head sighed. “In a little bit maybe. I’m working on preventing something.”

Mouth pursed Dawn asked, “Apocalypse?”

Willow studied the screen for a moment longer. “Just a little one.”


The phone in Sam’s office was, of all things, ringing. The world was going to
end in six hours and the phone was freaking ringing. She stared at it balefully
as she held the collections of papers and notes which would hopefully provide the
means to save the world.

Though that hope was a slim one at best. The Aruzans were just TOO good.

Sheer perversity alone made her pick up her phone, dropping an armful of useless
papers in the process. “Hello?” She figured, given the circumstances, that she
could be excused for sounding snappish.

A warm voice answered. “Hello, Major Samantha Carter?”

“Yes?” Sam demanded crisply.

“Oh good, I hacked the right number.” Hacked…? “My name is Willow Rosenberg.
Feel free to check my file, though you’ll need Presidential approval to read it.
But, you probably know me better as GunsNRoses. Congrats on figuring out my screen
name, I didn’t expect it of you guys. Very impressed...” GunsNRoses. The world
was ending and Sam was talking to GunsNRoses. Who was a girl. A rambling girl.
The world sucked. “…Anyway,” Willow continued blithely, “I noticed some funky
stuff going on with computers worldwide and I traced it back to you guys. Do you
think you could use some help before something gets blown up? I’d be glad to pop
in and take a look at things.”

Sam resisted the wild urge to giggle hysterically. The world was ending and the
world’s, their world’s, greatest hacker had just called and offered her help. She
took it all back. The world SO didn’t suck. Especially if it didn’t end.

“We’ll send a car to drive you to the airport and a plane to pick you up. How soon
can you be ready to go?”

Willow Rosenberg sounded only faintly amused when she replied, “Anytime. I surfed
through a few of your files and kinda found out how time sensitive all this is.”

Sam had a brief flash of panic over national security before she shrugged it off.
They could worry about secrecy after they saved the world. “I’ll have a car at
your address in ten minutes.”

“Okie dokie,” Willow said easily, “oh, can I bring a friend?”

As far as Sam was concerned, Willow could bring a circus with her, as long as she
figured out a way to lock the Aruzans out of Earth’s technology. “That’s fine,
perfectly fine! I’ll see you in a few hours Willow…”

“Umm, Major Carter?”

“Yes?” she asked distractedly as thousands of possibilities began to race through
her brain.

“Don’t you need to write down my address?”


Xander was leaning against the front porch railing that Willow was sitting on,
legs swinging, when the black limousine pulled up in front of the rundown two
story house in Cleveland which currently housed the American branch of the
International Watcher’s Council. Believe it or not- it was a lot more impressive
than the English branch, which mostly consisted of Giles’s one bedroom flat in
the not so nice part of downtown London.

“That our ride?” Xander asked as two men in black suits, and three in military
fatigues, stepped out of the shiny, shiny car.

Willow shrugged and jumped off the railing. “I don’t see too many other secret
agent types, do you?”

Her best friend grinned in response before leaning back to shout in the open front
door. “Hey Buffy, we’re leaving! We’ll be home tomorrow probably.”

The blonde Slayer poked her head outside the kitchen window. Ashes, and dried
cheese, smeared both cheeks like war paint. “Oh good, I’m fixing breakfast!”

Xander groaned. “Oh come on, you’ve got to be kidding me!” he hissed under his
breath to Willow. “We’ve had mac-and-cheese five times this week for dinner alone,
now we have to eat it for breakfast too? Can’t we let the world end, just this

Willow elbowed him sharply. “Be nice. And TRY to look intimidating. You’re
supposed to be my protection.”

They both snickered in response to that but Xander stood straighter none the less
when the government spooks hesitantly approached, obviously out off by the blasé
reaction they had evoked. She didn’t have to look behind her to know that he was
scowling magnificently, his one good eye narrowed in apparent intense dislike.
If anything, soldier boy had really taught Xander how not to take bullshit from

“Ms. Rosenberg?” one of the suits asked somewhat hesitantly.

Willow smiled brightly in response. “Take me to your leader!”

Xander’s lips twitched as all five strangers blanched in unison.


“Wow,” Colonel Jack O’Neill said as he flipped through Willow Rosenberg’s file.

Daniel tore his attention away from the Gate Room where SFs were setting up
barricades and bombs. They probably wouldn’t be able to defeat the Azurans,
even with this Willow’s help, but they sure as hell weren’t going to let Earth
go down without a fight.

Even if they were the first to go.


“Jack!” he snapped, “You’ve said ‘wow’ at least a dozen times. Even YOU aren’t
usually this easily impressed.

His Commander and long time friend met Daniel’s stressed eyes from over the file
he held, his own eyes bright and dancing. “Danny boy, you need to stop and take
a breather sometime. Smell some roses.”

“Jack, the world as we know it is ENDING in two hours and fifteen minutes.”

Jack’s lips curled up in a smug smirk as one long finger tapped the file he held.
“No, I don’t think it will.” He strolled over and slung one companionable arm
around the archaeologist’s shoulders. “So, have you ever heard about Vampires,
demons, and the forces of darkness?”


“Are you sure this is a top secret military base?” Xander whispered loudly as
they were ushered down featureless gray hallways and down equally drab elevators.
“I mean, couldn’t they have picked a different color or something?”

Willow spared her best friend a sympathetic smile. He would never admit it but
the inner-geek was just dying for something alien to pop out from the walls. And
that was before she told him exactly what went on under Cheyenne Mountain.

Willow thought it would be a nice surprise for him after she saved the world.
She checked her watch and shrugged. Two hours- plenty of time.

They were finally brought into some kind of control room. Willow didn’t even
need to be introduced to the visibly anxious woman bouncing on the balls of her
feet to know that the distressed blonde woman with a messy haircut and bloodshot
eyes was Major Carter. After that it was pretty easy from the facts she had
gleaned about SG-1 and company to identify the tall African American man with
gold tattoo as the alien Teal’c, the thirty something man with brilliant blue
eyes as Dr. Daniel Jackson, and the steel haired man in the corner as Colonel
Jack O’Neill.

His snappy salute and wise ass grin only cemented his identity for her.

“Ms. Rosenberg, so pleased you could make it.” A bald man with a Texas drawl
stepped forward. He was dressed to the nines in his nifty blue uniform, but the
tension on his face was noticeable. He shook her hand warmly enough but Willow
recognized desperation when she saw it. “My name is General Hammond.”

She smiled largely at him. “Did you talk to the President?”

The poor General looked slightly flustered and no little alarmed as he nodded
and waved at Colonel O’Neill, who held up her file and grinned even bigger.
“Yes ma’am, I did, and I just wanted to thank you for agreeing to come,
especially after your history with rogue military groups…”

“The Initiative was government sanctioned until the end,” Willow interrupted
softly, but firmly. She had no problems with helping out, but she wasn’t about
to let the government wiggle out of taking responsibility, no matter how
indirectly, “but you are correct about that NID faction being rogue.”

“Wonderful work with Kinsey and Company by the way. I especially liked the
one with…”

“Colonel O’Neill, now is NOT the time,” General Hammond snapped.

O’Neill looked only vaguely repentant as he rocked back on his heels but stayed
silent. Willow hid a smile behind one hand as Xander sidled closer to the
Colonel, and thus the window.

Xander’s mouth dropped open so far it almost hit the ground when he saw the
Stargate. “Wow.”

“I know,” the Colonel said complacently.


“I know.” Jack O’Neill slung a companionable arm around Xander’s shoulders.


“So, Xander, have you ever heard about the Gateway to Heaven, aliens, and our
fight to keep the Earth from being enslaved?”

Xander regarded the military man suspiciously. “Real aliens?”

The Colonel nodded solemnly.


“I know.”

“REALLY real aliens?”

O’Neill nodded again. “Some are trying to end the world right now.”

Xander’s gaze never wavered from the blue event horizon. “Wow.”

Colonel Jack O’Neill smiled smugly.


Sam wasn’t sure what exactly she had been expecting when she had received the
phone call from GunsNRoses, but Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris weren’t it.
Most people, normal people, weren’t quite so flippant about the end of the
world. OR the existence of aliens.

But most people didn’t need Executive permission for their files to be read.
Most files, even the top secret ones, didn’t make for such a fascinating read.
Sam wasn’t quite sure what the hell she thought about demons and magic, KNEW
she was going to have a headache when she finally had time to consider the
implications inherent in them IF they were real, but right now, the only
mojo they needed Willow to be working involved the computer.

“Do you have any donuts?” the red head asked absently as she shuffled a few
papers out of the way and settled down at the computer in the Control Room
they had provided her.

“Donuts?” Sam nearly squawked.

The one eyed man, Xander, pulled away from his whispered conversation with
Colonel O’Neill to chime in, “Sugar, helps with the concentration and the
thinking of genius thoughts.”

Sam stared blankly at that inane statement but when she started to try to
formulate a rational response it suddenly wasn’t worth the effort. This day
already topped her list on the weirdness factor. “Any special requests?”
she asked weakly as Willow’s blue painted nails began to fly across the
keyboard, almost too quick to follow.

“Jelly,” the younger woman said absently.

“Glazed!” Xander called before he ducked back towards Sam’s Commander.

She met the bewildered eyes of General Hammond and shook her head. If
there was one thing she had learned after serving under Colonel O’Neill,
it was that sometimes it was just easier to go with the flow, no matter
how wild.


The Azurans were a proud and fierce race. Physically weak, they had
adapted and learned to survive among the cruelness they found in the
stars. In the four millennia they had developed exact methods for the
systematic stripping and enslavement of new races they had stumbled
across. In four thousand years they had never failed to subjugate any
of the planets they had chosen. In four thousand years, they had never
met any successful form of resistance. In four thousand years they had
never been repulsed or defeated.

Their winning streak had ended after four millennia.

The technicians in the Azuran’s version of a Control Room stopped and
blinked in collective dismay as their screens blacked and then re-powered.
Strange looking creatures, with orange skin and green hair that was eerily
similar to their own, danced across every monitor on the Azuran home world,
overriding their advanced technology.

If Willow Rosenberg had been there she would have told them that the Oompa
Loompas were dancing to the Hamster Dance.


“Well?” General Hammond demanded of his exhausted Major.

Sam smiled and ran a tired hand through her closely cropped hair. “She did
it. Don’t ask me how exactly, but Willow hacked INTO the Azuran system by
piggybacking on the signal they were sending through to Earth. Not only did
she stop them from infiltrating our computers, she managed to send them a
little present as well, per Colonel O’Neill’s artistic suggestions I believe.”

“And with half an hour and a dozen jelly donuts to spare,” the General
remarked dryly.

Sam only nodded ruefully. “Yes, sir. We locked the Azuran address out of
our system permanently. They shouldn’t be able to connect to our gates
ever again.”

“That is the kind of good news I want to hear, Major.”

“Yes, sir, it is.”


“Hey, Willow, look!” Xander was waving wildly at her as Jack O’Neill
laughed. He stuck his arm into the open Stargate, “One arm is in another
galaxy,” he pulled it back out of the event horizon, “now its not. One
arm is in another galaxy…”

“If your arm gets cut off, I’m NOT growing you a new one.”

Xander stuck out his tongue at her and, twenty-eight or not, Willow was not
about to passively allow such behavior. She stuck her tongue out right back
at him.

The Colonel stood and brushed off his BDUs. “Well, come on kids, after we
get you all censored and debriefed we’ll get you home, probably just in time
for breakfast.”

Willow and Xander exchanged panicked glances. “Umm, Colonel O’Neill?” she
asked hesitantly.

The older man paused and looked at her, suspicion darkening his features.
“Yes…?” he drawled.

Willow traced an invisible pattern on the floor with the toe of one shoe.
“You would agree that I just saved the world and all, wouldn’t you?”

“…Yes,” he finally admitted grudgingly.

Willow and Xander traded another glance. “So, maybe I deserve an ittsy,
bittsy reward for my trouble, right?”

Jack O’Neill raised one grizzled brow as he regarded the two before him.
“You do know the President is totally planning on showering you with
medals right?”

Willow pouted. “Well, yes, but…”

Xander threw his arms in the air. “Screw the medals, we want breakfast!”

“Breakfast?” Jack echoed faintly.

Willow nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Denny’s or IHOP, you pick- just
NOT burnt macaroni and cheese AGAIN.”

“You saved the world and all you want is pancakes?” Jack asked, if only to
clarify, as a smile began to bloom on his features once again.

“And sausage,” Xander added wistfully.

“Hash browns,” Willow breathed.

Colonel Jack O’Neill, US Air Force slung his arms around two sets of
shoulders, a bounce in his step. “Could we interest you two in a job?”


Sam watched the interaction from the Control Room and shook her head, a
smile splitting her own face. She couldn’t have said it better herself.
Only screw the witch, Willow the Hacker was quite enough all on her own.

The End

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