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Thanksgiving Traditions, Sunnydale Style

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Summary: Dawn and Mini!Jack have an eventful thanksgiving.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Stargate > Dawn-Centered > Pairing: Mini-Jack(Past Donor)DeanieFR131272033,74422 Feb 0622 Feb 06Yes
Title: Thanksgiving Traditions, Sunnydale Style
Author: Deanie
Rating: PG
Type: Double Drabble
Genre: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Stargate: SG1 (Dawn/Mini!Jack)
Timing: This story occurs after Buffy’s seventh season, and basically, anytime after “Fragile Balance” for SG1.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own these characters. Dawn belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Stargate belongs to MGM, Gekko, and Double Secret Productions.
Author's Note: This was originally written for some kind of challenge, or fic-a-thon, or something I can't remember anymore. Just found it on my hard drive and thought I'd post. No definite relation to "Closer to Myself," though you could consider this a far-flung sequel to CtM.

“When you said your family had weird Thanksgiving traditions, you weren’t kidding.” Crouched behind the overturned dining room table to avoid the all-too-real arrows being shot from risen Native American spirits, Jon O’Neill – eighteen-year-old alien-made clone of General Jack O’Neill, desperately wished for his P-90.

“Indian curses? Pretty standard Sunnydale Thanksgiving fare.” Dawn shrugged. “Though one year it was Pilgrims…”

“What… they didn’t like the little paper hats you made in school?” Jon muttered.

“Nah, the usual… disturbing ancient burial grounds. Can’t build anything in Sunnydale that’s not on some kind of grave.” Flipping through an old magic book, Dawn quickly located the spell. “Spirits from the other side, called from your graves to rise, return to dust before our eyes.”

Suddenly, the thunk of arrows hitting the furniture stopped.

The teens peeked out from behind the table. “No more spirits,” Dawn announced, standing up. “Though they did a number on the living room.”

“Darn, they shot the yams,” Jon grumbled.

“Everything else’s okay,” she smiled. “Let’s get everything cleaned up. Don’t want anything else to go wrong on our first Thanksgiving together. ”

He laughed, righting the table. Who needed the Air Force when he had the Scooby Gang?

The End

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