Giles, Meet Sam
For the August Fic-a-day Ficathon.
For the TtH100 as well; prompt #85 - Watcher.
I don’t own anything below other than the idea. Giles and Sam belong to Buffy and Stargate, respectively. No profit made, other than my satisfaction.
Post-“Chosen”, but no real spoilers; haven’t decided where exactly this fits in Stargate—if at all.
At the Holiday Inn
Rupert Giles, head of the new Watchers Council, managed to make it to the hotel’s continental breakfast ten minutes before it closed. The tiny dining room was a mess—tables covered with other patrons’ leavings, chairs knocked over, coffee spilled everywhere. He shook his head as he entered the room, something crunchy grinding beneath the heel of his shoe.
‘Looks like a demon attacked the place,’ he mused. ‘No, I’m wrong—it’s just an inexpensive American hotel in this poor excuse for a city. I ask again, where are these “springs” of Colorado?’
As he was gathering a plain muffin, jam, and hot water for his tea, he heard another set of footsteps crunching in behind him. Giles heard the sniff of disgust and smiled. ‘Mustn’t be an American,’ he thought to himself. ‘Only an American would be able to dismiss this room as anything less than an abomination to civilization as we know it.’ He turned around, and nearly dropped his tray.
The woman surveying the wreck of the dining room was not quite as tall as Giles himself, even in her heels. She was also very blonde, and extremely beautiful. Her blue eyes took in the room, and then took in the Watcher and ex-librarian as well. The piercing gaze made his knees seem amazingly, and quite suddenly, wobbly beyond repair.
The only thing which saved Giles’ from the humiliation of his buckling knees was the realization that this bewitchingly stunning woman, who was now smiling in his direction, was wearing a military uniform. The traitorous knees firmed up nicely, and he rather frostily returned her smile.
“Dr. Yates?” the woman asked, striding forward, hand outstretched. “I’m Major Samantha Carter. I’m here to take you out to the base.”
Giles took a step back, bumping up against the soggy breakfast bar. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Major,” he replied, a hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “I’m Dr. Giles, not Dr. Yates.”
The major stopped walking and a frown appeared on her face. “But I was told—“
The sound of someone slipping on the tile in the hotel lobby interrupted her, followed by a loud, American-accented, curse. The owner of both noises appeared shortly thereafter and approached Major Carter with a fast shuffling gait.
“Major Cartwright, I’m SO sorry I’m late!” the small, roundish man exclaimed, grasping and shaking her hand as though she were a life preserver. “Everything went completely wrong this morning—from the second I woke up! You just wouldn’t believe this hotel—and the other guests they let stay here are just…”
He led the major away, talking rapidly, and Giles was left on his own once again. He sighed, cleared off a table for himself, and sat down. Just as he took the teabag out of his mug, he heard familiar footsteps. He looked up to see Major Carter gazing at him from the doorway.
“I wish you were Dr. Yates—that man hasn’t gotten my name right yet, and I’ve corrected him three times. I need more caffeine to deal with this one.”
Giles felt his jaw drop open as the major quickly poured herself a cup of coffee. She put a travel lid on the cup, toasted him silently with a wry grin, and disappeared the way she’d come.
“Remarkable,” Giles murmured. He realized he’d spoken aloud, looked around to find himself still alone, and shook his head. “Quite remarkable.”