Disclaimer: BTVS and Angel are owned by Joss, Fox, Mutant Enemy, and the WB. Stargate SG-1 is owned by MGM, and the SciFi Channel. I don't own anything except the situation characters are in.
AN: I’m assuming that S5 of BTVS and S7 of SG:SG1 took place at the same time. The story takes place a few weeks after Glory’s defeat for BtvS and New Order for SG:SG1.
First story ever, so I can use help but please be nice on the ego. :-)
- Buffy didn’t die a second time. I’ll explain sooner or later how it came to be.
- X/Anya happened but she was killed by ADAM when Spike betrayed the Scoobies => A painful dusting for Spike.
- I never watched Angel: the Sick!pedophile (AtS) so I assume that Faith is in Prison in the beginning of the story
- Sam is on “summer assigment” at Area 51.italics
July, 7th 2003 – 2330 hr
Las VegasWell, It’s a lot more pleasant on this side of the stage
, was the thought going throught Alexander ‘Xander’ Harris’s head as he looked at the beautiful stripper on stage. I really needed a vacation.
The past couple years had been really hard for the young man. The Initiative, Anya’s death, Dawn’s ‘Birth’, Glory... And if that wasn’t enough, his friends were once again trying to keep him from the slaying. He honestly didn’t know if his place was in Sunnydale anymore. When the the floor show finally ended, he finished his beer, laid money on the table, and walked unsteadily toward the door.Damn, I hope I’ve got some aspirin at the hotel, I’m going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.
July, 8th 2003 – 0700 hr
Las VegasSomething is knocking on the inside of my skull with a hammer
, was Xander’s first thought as he woke up and immediatly tried to bury is face in his pillow. If I suffocate, hopefully my headache will pass.
When the knocking began anew, he realized it wasn’t something trying to escape from inside his skull but someone at the door.
“Damn, no respect for my hangover...” he said after seeing his clock indicating 07:02
He managed to get up and after checking he was more or less clothed (i.e. boxers and undershirt) walked to the door with difficulty. After a short but intense battle with the dooknob, he finally opened it to see a 50-something old man in USAF-blues.
“Huh..” supplied his still half sleeping brain.
“That’s a hell of a hangover you got here kid, can I come in?”
“Um, I don’t remember ordering a stripper for a private show and even if that’s the case I prefer them younger and female”, he said before trying to close the door.
Had he been completly awake, he would have fell on his ass laughing at the look of complete stupefaction worn by the stranger. Said stranger none the less managed to stop him from closing the door before finally responding in an annoyed voice.
“For crying out loud, I’m not a stripper!”.