Standard disclaimers: Don't own them, never have, probably never will. No money exchanged hands.

14) Jurisdictional Overlap

I was on an important errand for the Men in Black Headquarters. It was very important. OK, it was my turn to get the coffee. But I want you to know that high quality coffee ensures the smooth running of the organization. Especially for the Wormies. They're useless unless they are fully caffeinated.

So anyway, that's why I was passing an alley when I saw a man with glowing yellow eyes waving some space weapon at four civilians. So, after a quick check up and down the street, I stepped into the alley and zapped glowing eye guy. The civilians looked at me in surprise. I put on my special shades and used my neuralizer. I figured it for the usual drill, tell the civilians some semi-plausible story, send them on their way, and call HQ for cleanup on aisle three.

And then I found myself jacked up against the wall. Damn, the old guy could move. He had one hand around my throat, and the other around the hand holding my neuralizer.

"I am getting damned sick of people playing mind games on me," he snarled. The others didn't look too happy other. The good-looking blonde grabbed the neuralizer out of my hand. The guy with glasses looked annoyed. The brother who could have been a stand-in for a mountain looked like he was thinking of taking me apart.

"Colonel O'Neill, I'd appreciate it if you didn't break my partner," I heard the familiar voice of my partner, Agent K.

Tall old guy didn't flinch, and he didn't let go of my throat.

"Partner? This guy isn't a cop, And maybe you'd let me know how you know my name?

"And where he got this interesting bit of tech?" said the blonde, holding up my neuralizer.

"We're with the M.I.B.," started K.

This seemed to annoy the old guy. The grip around my throat tightened. "God damned N.I.D."

"That's M.I.B., Colonel," said K in a calming voice.

"N.I.D.?" I croaked. It was getting damned hard to breathe.

"A good idea gone very, very wrong, Slick. Originally meant to oversee top secret projects, now it is hopelessly corrupted with agents working for folks whose first agenda is not the good of the planet." Old annoyed guy relaxed his grip around my throat a little.

"Why didn't the neuralizer work?" I managed to say.

"It didn't work because Colonel O'Neill has had the knowledge of the Ancients downloaded into his brain, Major Carter was briefly the host of a Tok'ra, Doctor Jackson was an Ascended being, and Teal'c is a Jaf'fa."

"Thanks, K," I said. "That makes things so clear."

"Junior, didn't you read the memo last month?"

I winced. K calls me "Junior" when I've screwed up.

"Er, I read lots of memos. Which one in particular?"

Agent K sighed his patented "long suffering expert stuck with amateur partner" sigh. "The memo that described how to recognize a Goa'uld. The memo that clearly stated that Stargate Command has jurisdiction over all matters concerning Goa'ulds, the Aasgard, and Replicators. That memo, Junior."

I thought up about a dozen lame excuses, which I immediately tossed out 'cause K wasn't going to buy any of them. "Er, no, I must have missed that one. Sorry. And what are Replicators and Ass-guards?"

K didn't get a chance to reply. There was a flash of blinding light, and suddenly annoyed old guy (whose hand was still wrapped around my throat) and I were on the bridge of some kind of space ship. Old guy rolled his eyes and let go of me. I dropped to the floor and gasped for air.

"Damn it, Thor! You have to start warning me!" he yelled.

"I am sorry, O'Neill. It was an emergency," said a soft voice. I looked up, into the big, buggy eyes of a Roswell gray. A freaking Roswell gray!

"Thor, meet J. J, you wanted to know what an Aasgard is. Meet, Thor, Supreme Commander of the Aasgard fleet."

Damn. I really have to start paying attention to those memos.

-i-i-i-

Xover with M.I.B. - I had a few people request this particular crossover. I had a bit of a problem, as I, a middle-aged white suburban librarian was trying to write dialog for a young, hip, Black urban cop/secret agent. And I don't think the two universes play well together. Well, I gave it my best shot. (and, hey, that's why this series is called "Things that NEVER happened"...

And yes, I know you call the floor of a ship the deck, but, as far as I know, J doesn't have a Navy background.

Now if I could just wrestle the Stargate/Sharing Knife crossover I'm working on into shape, I'd be set for next week...