Wake up calls + fly in visits = problems
Title: An Irish Selkie
Disclaimer: I own nothing except what you don't recognise. No harm was intended I just borrowed BtVS A:tS and SG1 for a spin.
Warnings: Maybe some minor Buffy/Angel bashing but it is justified. You'll see. Set after Riley, before Wolfram and Hart and Daniel Jackson's death. I am English and so is my spelling.
A shrill sound woke Angel from his slumber. Groping blindly towards the bedside table, he grabbed the phone with the express purpose of hanging up on the person that had rudely awakened him at noon and going back to sleep. The voice on the other end stopped him.
"Angel, there's a prophecy."
Groaning Angel propped himself up trying to get his brain working. It was too early for this. Yawning needlessly, he responded. "Hello Buffy. Isn't there always?"
"It seems like it. Still the same old spiel, monsters blah blah blah hellmouth open blah blah blah funny crystal thing." Angel fought the urge to roll his eyes. Buffy's skill in reducing things down to the basics could at times not be helpful or specific enough to work with. "We need you to come down and help us track this rock. Our contact is slightly bruised and has been hospitalised."
"You've visited Willie then." Angel almost smiled at that picture. Buffy could get enthusiastic about her questioning. Walking across the room Angel entered his bathroom and turned on his shower. He was up now and sleep would remain elusive. Cutting off Buffy before should could reply, Angel sighed. "Look Buffy, I've had a bad night, a long night. I'll set off once the sun sets with the gang and be down with you as soon as possible. Until then I'm going to shower and relax. Ok?" Saying his goodbyes, Angel pushed his hair out of his eyes, peered redundantly into the mirror above the sink rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stepped into the shower. He'd call Cordy and the others later.
Same time, Colorado
"There were a lot of trees and rocks, sir, nothing that would be interesting unless you're Danny-boy." Daniel shot a look at Jack O'Neill before he started to explain to General Hammond the importance of the rock/tomb of the Ancients. The entire team was there Teal'c stoic as usual and Sam concentrating on what Daniel was explaining. Jack was just grateful that he didn't have to and promptly started to think about his leave and all of the fishing that he was going to do during it over in Ireland. He was going there for his annual roots visit to the place where his father had be born and where he, himself, had spent many a happy time during his childhood. Jack was so deep in thought that he didn't hear Carter trying to get his attention
"Sir......Sir.....Colonel...SIR!!" Jack jumped. And realised something very important. He was no longer in the Mountain's Briefing Room but in a very familiar white room. Spinning around he grinned.
"Thor, buddy, how ya doin'?" Jack smiled at his little grey friend. The High Commander Thor was part of the species that had started the speculation about Roswell. However, their influence upon the human race went far back into earth's past. Thor was, in fact, a Viking God, or at least the creator of the God myth.
"Greetings O'Neill, Major Carter, Dr Jackson and Teal'c" Thor welcomed in his usual monotone voice. "I'm afraid that I have to inform you of some dire news."
"I had guessed that," Jack stated, his smile having disappeared. "Why can't you ever just come for an uncomplicated visit? There goes my fishing trip. Oh well, lay it on us."
After several hours, SG1 were beamed back to Stargate Command, finding the installation in up roar and themselves in front of a very worried General. Sighing, Jack left the second debriefing of the day, avoiding the other team members. He had to process stuff, heavy stuff. The upshot of all of this was that Jack's fishing trip in Ireland was still on and SG1 would be accompanying him. However, their presence would reveal a long kept secret that could endanger many. The downside of the meeting was that the world might possibly end. Kathy was going to be pissed.