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Summary: Three Warriors Challenge by Hakuchihirolover. Jack, Buffy and Methos were all Goa’uld hosts during Ra’s occupation of Earth. Buffy and Methos founded that out the stargate was open and operational and they both went to Colorado to confront Jack.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Stargate > Buffy-Centered > Pairing: Jack O'Neill
Highlander > Multiple Pairings
LotusjaFR1532102,37611159133,57114 Nov 0516 Feb 09No

Chapter 18: Jack & Isabella

Disclaimer: All characters from BTVS belong to Joss Whedon and the world of Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret productions, and Gekko Productions. And the world of Highlander and its characters belong to Panzer/Davis Productions and Marvel Entertainment Group. This fiction is purely for the entertainment of the writer and the readers, not for commercial benefit.


Title: Three Warriors (Lotusja Version)

Author: Lotusja

Genre:  Crossover/AU

Fandoms: BTVS/Highlander/Stargate SG-1

Spoilers: Seasons 3-4 of Buffy and Season 5 of Stargate SG-1

Pairings: Buffy-Jack O’Neill

Ratings: R

Feedback: Yes Please.

Distribution:  Please ask and it will be given unto you.

Summary: Three Warriors Challenge by Hakuchihirolover. Jack, Buffy, and Methos were all Goa’uld hosts during Ra’s occupation of Earth. Buffy and Methos found out that the Stargate was open and operational, and they both went to Cheyenne Mountain to confront Jack O’Neill.


AN: Ratings change.

Chapter 18  


Jack & Isabella  


Buffy practically skipped to keep up with Jack’s stride as he walked towards his Jeep Cherokee in the parking lot.  She slid into the passenger side and drew the seatbelt. “Are you sure you don’t mind, me staying awhile?” she asked tentatively. 


“Of course not,” Jack said, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.


“Good,” she said, turning to look out the car window.


To Buffy, freedom had meant leaving the underground dwelling of the SGC. As she sat in the passenger seat of Jack’s jeep, she felt nervous. She would be alone with Jack. The others had decided to stay at the mountain and had volunteered her to return the hotel keys and pay the bills.  But after a twenty minute drive of talking about nothing and everything, she had nothing to say. What does one talk about after fifty years of misunderstanding? I don’t know, she admitted to herself with a frown.


“Are you okay,” Jack asked, his eyes searching her face.


“Of course,” she said giving a start of surprise. “Why?”


He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said frowning. “You haven’t said much.”


She gave him a quick glance, then quickly turned her face back towards the scenery outside her window. “I don’t have much to say,” she said.


There was a moment of silence.


“Are we there yet?” she said.


“Soon,” he said, surveying the road judiciously.


Buffy cursed inwardly. I’m nervous, she thought, wetting her suddenly dry lips. It isn’t as if she’d never been alone with a man before or never been in his home. But this was Jack. Jack O’Neill, her husband, someone she had been intimate with. She gave him a quick glance, but turned her head before he noticed.


Jack sighed as he continued to maneuver the car into the late afternoon traffic. Why should I be nervous? he thought. It isn’t as if this was the first time he was having a house guest. Then he thought about whom… Bella. He still has the hots for her after all of these years. She was the only one that could tie him up into knots like this. He suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. What if she doesn’t return his favor? He drove up to his house and parked in the driveway. “Here we are,” he announced, his hands beating a rhythmic tattoo on the steering wheel, showing an outward sign that he was nervous.


Buffy stood outside the door waiting for Jack to turn the key. His house was a surprise. When she had pictured it, she didn’t know what to expect, but his house was a two-story ranch with three bedrooms, three baths, a large kitchen, a dining room, and a living room. She entered the house, gazing around curiously. To Buffy’s left was a staircase that seemed to lead to a second floor landing and to her right there appeared to be a living room, a dining room, and the kitchen.


“What do you think?” he asked juggling his keys in his tan trousers’ pocket.


Buffy shrugged and presented Jack with a small smile. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It seems like you and sorta not like you.”


“Yeah?” said Jack trying to see the house through Buffy’s eyes. He had bought the house five years ago after he had just started to work for the SGC, when he knew that he wanted to live. After Charlie’s death, he had lost his way, and the house and the job had help. “How?” he asked, his mouth quirked with humor.


“Too frou-frou,” she said with a gesture, taking in the pale curtains and the flower sofa.


“Frou-frou? Is that even a word?” he wondered, smiling broadly. He looked around the room. Buffy was right. He wasn’t the best decorator. He had bought the house furnished from an eighty-year-old grandma and her style was still in the house. The only change he had made was the addition of a large screen plasma television, a large brown leather couch, and his bedroom set. Otherwise, the house was the same as before it was sold. He had always told himself that soon he would change it, but since he lived practically on base, soon had never arrived.


“Maybe,” she said, returning his grin.


“Oh, Bella,” he said, putting his large hand to her waist, and drawing her form to him. “How I missed you,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. She was so soft, warm.


Buffy’s mind told her to resist, but her body refused. Her body sang ‘this is Jack’. They still had a lot to talk about, but his nearness was so overwhelming. She took a deep breath and pulled herself away. She cleared her dry throat. “Where-where’s my room,” she said shakily, her eyes straying up the stairs.


Jack searched her face as if he could read her thoughts.


She glanced away and picked up a suitcase.


He sighed and gestured towards the stairs. “Right this way,” he said resigned, picking up her other suitcase and leading her up the stairs to a closed door. He opened the door to a femininely decorated room.


“Beautiful room,” she said, putting the suitcase on the floor. “Do you entertain a lot of over night guests?” she asked with a frown, fingering a yellow lace curtain at the window.


“Sometimes Cassandra stays over,” he said, dropping the suitcase next to the bed.


“Cassandra,” Buffy queried, her eyes narrowed and hardened. I thought he wasn’t dating anyone. “I thought you weren’t seeing anyone,” she said with a mild inflection in her voice.


He stared at her baffled. “Seeing someone?” he said, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Where did you the get the idea that I was seeing someone?” Jack questioned, his brow set in a straight line.


“Cassandra,” Buffy said tightly.


“Cassie?” Jack said with a watchful look on his face. “Oh, she’s Janet’s daughter,” he said smoothly, with no expression on his face. She’s jealous, Jack thought gleefully. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t be jealous. Right? he thought, making sure the happiness he was feeling was not showing on his face.


Buffy set her chin in a stubborn line. “Janet?”


“You met her, the doctor,” he announced.


Buffy nodded, feeling herself color; she had to admit to herself that she was jealous. Intellectually, she knew he had been with another woman, but internally she couldn’t handle it.


“Cassie is her sixteen-year-old adopted daughter,” Jack continued matter-of-factly.


“Okay,” she said with a disinterested shrug.


“Are you jealous?” Jack asked; his look was of faint amusement.


“Jealous? Of course not,” she said flushing as she paced around the room. “We’ve been apart for the latter part of fifty years, I didn’t expect you to be celibate,” she said in a rush.


“But you were,” Jack said; his expression stilled and grew serious as he walked forward and clasped her body tightly to his, her soft curves molded to the contours of his body.


She swallowed hard, managing a feeble answer. “You only have my word for that,” Buffy said


“I’m so humbled,” Jack whispered into her hair, “that you waited.”


The mere touch of his hand was sending warming shivers through Buffy. He bent his head and captured her lips. 


Their first kiss was tentative, thoughtful, as his tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips seeking a familiar route after fifty years apart. It was like riding a bike. 


Raising his mouth from hers, Jack gazed into Buffy’s eyes and she could feel the blood coursing through her veins like an awakened river; then his lips recaptured hers, more demanding this time, forcing her lips to open to his thrusting tongue.


Buffy felt like she was drowning in sensations as Jack’s hands explored the soft lines of her body. “Oh, Jack,” she sighed, when she could catch her breath to talk.


“Oh, Bella,” he moaned, as her hands slid under his shirt to caress his hot skin. He felt as if he was coming home; those other women were a distant memory as he slowly unbuttoned her top, worshipfully, finding several folded knives and two stakes – including her favorite sword strapped to her back. He shook his head. It was always a mystery where she hid those things, especially with her choice of clothing.


He eased the lacy cup of her bra aside as his hands roamed intimately over her skin. The shapely beauty of her naked body taunted him, and he swept her, weightlessly, into his arms and carried her towards the bed.


Gently he eased her down onto the bed. For the first time in his life, since the breakup, he mourned what he had missed. Why did I wait all these years to reconnect, he thought as he followed her onto the bed.  His hands explored the soft lines of her back, her waist, and her hips as he continued to kiss her with slow drugging kisses. His hand slipped inside the waist of her pants, while the other fondled one small globe of her breast with its pink nipple already hard. Her breast surged at the intimacy of his touch.


Oh God, she feels so good, Jack thought as the pleasure sent a shuddering awareness down his body.


Buffy gasped, her hands clawing at his skin. She felt as if she was on fire.


Jack leaned away to roughly pull the tight jeans down her legs, all the while making a grunting sound.


Buffy whimpered at the loss of his hands and kisses, but soon she was completely bare, open to his gaze and to his touch.


“Now,” she growled as her body arched into his. Buffy writhed on the bed, her arms outstretched, calling him to her, begging for Jack’s touch. She was on fire, and only he could quench it. She moaned.


“Not yet,” he grunted as he quickly pulled his shirt over his head.


“Now!” she snarled, her eyes were slit as she grabbed him and ripped the rest of his clothes off.


When he was finally naked, he slowly lowered his body over hers. But Buffy was frantic; she cawed and mewled, moving on the bed in a sinuous dance of want and need. He grunted as Buffy’s sharp nails scorched his skin. She sighed as his cool body touched her hot skin; it was now flesh against flesh, man against woman. Oh God, she thought as her arms circled him.  She could felt where her fingers had scorched his back. “Oh Jack,” she cried, apologetically.


“Shh,” he murmured and his lips seared a path down her neck, her shoulders, then his lips brushed her nipples, rousing a melted sweetness within her body.  Slowly his hands moved downward, skimming both sides of her body to her thighs. Jack continued to explore her thighs then moved up to her taut stomach.


Buffy’s senses reeled; she was awash with sensation, her hips pumping in supplication, begging for something.


Jack knew what she wanted, what they both wanted, so he parted her thighs and entered her in one swift glide.


She moaned.


It was a tight squeeze, but soon her wet body adjusted to the fullness. It didn’t take any effort at all, and soon Buffy and Jack were caught up in a rhythm of their own.


She rose to meet his thrusts in a moment of uncontrolled passion. As he inflamed her passion, Jack felt his own grow stronger. This feels so good, he thought with a groan as his lower body continued thrusting. He tightened his grip on Buffy’s body, moving his hands easily to her hips, and drove himself deeper.


It was too much – Buffy’s eyes rolled up into her head as she gasped in sweet agony and cried out her release.


“Look at me, Bella,” Jack grunted as his hip pistoned in and out of her. “This is Jack,” he said. “No one else is giving you this pleasure,” Jack growled in her ear, as he slowed his movements.


She whimpered.


Then he sped up his movements; faster and faster, he moved into her, placing one of his hands between their bodies.


The second orgasm took Buffy by surprise. “Jack!” she screamed as her body started to undulate, taking Jack along for the ride. 


Whoa! Buffy thought a few minutes later when she was finally able to think or feel. She glanced over at Jack, who had the most satisfied grin on his face, as he laid there boneless.


She sighed in pleasant exhaustion.


Jack grunted and tucked her curves neatly into his own contours. She snuggled against him as their legs intertwined.


“That was good,” she said, feeling now the aches in her body, even her eyebrows.


“Yeah, it was like riding a bike,” Jack said, winking at Buffy salaciously as a deep feeling of peace entered his being. For the first time in years, he felt happy.


“A bike,” Buffy teased, her body glistening with sweat. “Are you comparing me to a bike?” she said in mock anger.


“Well if the seat fits,” he said, smiling roguishly as he caressed her butt.


“Ooh,” cried Buffy, suddenly energetic. “I’ll show you a bike.” And she grabbed a pillow and started hitting Jack over the head with it.


In retaliation, he grabbed his own pillow to defend himself. Both choked with laughter as the pillow broke scattering feathers over their damp skin and the room.  Soon the laughter died down and their passion once again rose scenting the room with desire. And it was several hours later before they thought to leave the bed.



“I want to take you out to my favorite restaurant,” Jack said as he stood at the side of the bed shrugging into charcoal gray pants.


“When?” Buffy said languidly, lying on the bed while she watched as he dressed.


“How about now?” he said buttoning up his shirt.


“Now?!” she squealed giving him an exasperated look. “I’m not ready. It’s going to take awhile before I’m gorgeous,” she said, jumping up and rushing towards the bathroom.


“I would give you the world,” Jack said quietly with a smile as he gazed at the closed bathroom door.


An hour later at the Sonterra Grill, Jack’s appreciative eyes traveled from her sandals to her green dress. “I love your dress,” he said.


“This old thing,” Buffy said, fingering the green silk. “I’ve had it for years.”


“Well then, you clean up nice,” he said, his gaze raking boldly over her.


She flushed, feeling as giddy as a schoolgirl. “Thank you,” she said while looking through the menu. Even after making love three times, she still wanted him. Her eyes slid over him, taking note of how the blue shirt clung to his broad shoulders, and something tightened low in her stomach. She came to a sudden realization. She never stopped loving Jack O’Neill. Oh God, she moaned.


“Did you say something?” Jack said with a smile.


She shook her head and returned his smile. “I was just thinking about what I should order. I can’t make up my mind between the steak and the scallops.”


Jack leaned over to look at her menu, closing his eyes and breathing in her rich vanilla smell.


“Well,” she said. “What do you think?”


He opened his eyes and said, “Why not have both?”


“Why didn’t I think of that?” Buffy said dryly.


“Because you need me,” he said simply.


There was a moment of silence and a waitress came to their table.

”Are you ready to order?” she asked her pen poised over her notebook.


“Yeahsureyabetcha,” Jack said. He ordered short ribs and a beer, while Buffy asked for the steak and scallops with a strawberry margarita.  They were catching up on the last fifty years when Jack’s cell phone rang. “Damn,” he muttered, reaching into his jacket for the phone. He brought it to his ears. “O’Neill,” he snapped. After listening for a few minutes, he hung up.


“General Hammond needs to see us as soon as possible,” he said, getting up and walking over to Buffy’s chair.

“Why?” Buffy asked, sliding out of the chair after flinging her napkin down on the table.


“I don’t know,” he said with a frown. “I guess we’ll find out when we get there,” he said as he guided her towards the door.


Thirty minutes later, Buffy found herself entering the SGC for the second time. It was much easier, she thought, eying the numbers above the elevator door as it descended into the bowels of the earth, because she now knew what to expect. She was getting to be an old hand at this, she thought as she breezed through the checkpoints.


“You wanted to see us, sir?” Jack asked as he walked into General Hammond’s office. He noted that SG-1 was there with the Immortals and Buffy’s friends.


“Colonel, Ms. Summers,” said Hammond. “I’m glad you made good time. Have a seat,” he said with a gesture.


“What’s up?” asked Jack, walking over to an empty chair while Buffy followed suite.


“Everyone’s here, I see,” Hammond said, as he gazed around the room.


“Yes sir.”


“Good, let’s get down to business,” he said, shuffling papers on his desk. “Dr. Jackson and Mr. Dawson have ascertained the last whereabouts of Mr. Gannon.”


“Where?” asked Jack.




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