Author's Note: Here it is.... This is only the first part of the conversation that will probably last for at least the next two parts. Enjoy. This is the corrected version of the chapter. Thanks to Teri for pointing out my little SG-1 timeline goof.



Author: Sirius

Disclaimer: For disclaimer and ratings, see Part I.




Part XII



"Xander, how are you sure it isn't…"

"Someone who can't read the sign and thinks we might just be open at 5:30am?" Xander's smile alerted Giles that the younger man was not truly being hostile, just releasing some steam.

"Odds are that they're the people we need to see," Xander continued as Giles moved toward the door.

"No one called to…"

"They wouldn't, Giles. They don't know us from Adam – wait, bad analogy. Anyway, they don't know us, they won't trust us, and they're not going to give us a heads-up as to when they'll be here. It's them."

With one last look toward Xander, Giles unlocked the door to the shop. He had barely opened the door before Xander heard Daniel's voice. I'm not even going to wonder how I knew it was Jackson. If I hadn't accepted these quirks already, they'd be driving me nuts. Of course, Xander had to admit that of all the things he thought the Egyptologist might say, what actually came out of Daniel's mouth wasn't one of them.

"Oh. Apparently, I was wrong, and there is some reason that a former curator of the British Museum would decide to open a magic shop in Sunnydale. Hello, Rupert."

"Daniel… it's a pleasure to see you again, though I must admit to being somewhat confused."

"Was it too much to hope that there might be two people named Rupert Giles in the world? Not that I'm not happy to see you, but… this is strange."

"Quite. I'm presuming you would like to come in?"

"Yes," Jack said, breaking in to the conversation. "Yes, actually, we would."

Giles ushered the four people through the doorway, closing it again behind me. Xander could almost smell the tension in the air, the feel that was almost electric and was making his muscles tense in preparation for a fight. Not gonna happen today, he thought. Not if I can help it.

Silently, he identified them all… and he made the introductions to Giles. It was better that they know right off that he, not Giles, was the potential security risk. There would that bit of anxiety out of the way, at least.

"G-man," he said, pausing long enough to see the team's collective gaze come to settle on him. "I gather you already know Dr. Jackson. I'll probably be saying this again as soon as everyone else is awake, but… To your right is Colonel Jack O'Neill – two L's – permanent fixture in the Air Force whether he likes it or not. I'm convinced that if he tries to retire yet again, they'll just keep bringing him back until he gives up on the idea. Next to him is Captain Samantha Carter…" He saw the look O'Neill gave him at that.

"Is it Major, now?" O'Neill and Carter nodded. "Sorry about that… Major Samantha Carter, brilliant astrophysicist. You already know Dr. Jackson. The imposing one in the back is…" He paused again, not sure if Teal'c wanted to use his true name or was going by something else. O'Neill filled in the silence.

"Murray. His name's Murray."

"Well," Giles said. At a loss as to how to start this conversation, or even if he should, he settled for asking them if they wanted breakfast.

"I've already put coffee on, G-man. There are days when dealing with an un-caffeinated Buffy just isn't worth it… and this is one of them."

"Quite. Thank you, Xander."

"Hey, Giles… as long as you're fixing breakfast, I'd gladly take some." He turned to look at the team. "I promise, he's not gonna slip anything into the food that shouldn't be there. I'll even taste-test it if you're not sure." O'Neill wasn't sure if he should be annoyed or relieved that the young man appeared serious.

Giles headed into the kitchen, not really needing to know the team's answer. Whatever they didn't eat, the Scoobies would. Ah, well, he thought. They're entitled to it. They do work it off, after all.






Alone now with the team, Xander knew this was his chance to explain things without the risk of the Scoobies overhearing… anything they shouldn't. He smiled at the team, more or less at ease with these people, as if part of him knew them… as if part of him had been in that team, in that group of friends, at one point. And part of me has, so it makes sense in a weird way.

He wasn't quite sure how to start the conversation, at first… but he knew that he wanted to have a chance to explain before O'Neill got too protective of his people and started in with the interrogation.

"In case you haven't guessed, sir," he said, speaking to O'Neill and automatically using the honorific. "My name is Alexander Harris – everyone calls me Xander. I placed the call that got you here. I just wish that Kawalsky could've been in on this." Damn, buddy, but that was a sucky way to die. The look on the Colonel's face told Xander that was one statement he hadn't been expecting, but O'Neill nodded, waiting – patiently, for him – for Xander to continue.

"I'm not going to fill you in on the other people who are here right now. That can wait until they're awake… and until they let me know what they're comfortable sharing, though if you've had checks run on us, you probably know a fair bit, anyway."

"I'm not exactly hearing any answers here, Harris."

"You haven't asked any questions, Colonel, but I know what you mean. I heard the first rumors of the cult yesterday, from a contact. I wouldn't call him a friend, but he has his moments. The way he described it made me… uneasy, so I went with him last night to check things out." Xander was avoiding the questions burning in the Colonel's eyes. Explaining some of this is really going to be a bitch later, but I don't want to get into the magic-demon-vampire side of things until at least Willow is awake. It probably won't be pretty… but who knows? Maybe I'll be unbelievably lucky and find out that they're already familiar with some of the joys of the Hellmouth. Maybe?

"I got there, stayed out of eyesight – they were armed, after all – and just watched for a while. They're building a temple, Colonel… the inscriptions on the walls are in cuneiform – ancient Sumerian… which is kind of weird when you think about it."

"Weirder than finding any other temple with Sumerian inscriptions?"

"Well, yes, Dr. Jackson. Sumerian inscriptions, but the… cult leader… was using the Babylonian form of her name."

"Wait, wait… the background check didn't say anything about you studying archaeology."

"I didn't, Jack," Xander responded, not noticing Teal'c's raised eyebrow… or his own slip of the tongue. "I just have a fair amount of books at home that I read on my own time. My friends would think the world had suddenly turned inside out if they knew that I studied this stuff on my own. School and I never really did the mixing thing."

"Sumeric inscriptions, Babbling name… got it."

I will not laugh, Xander thought. I will not laugh… I wonder if he does that on purpose?

"Look," Xander said, "I know you don't trust me… I know you're worried about where I got this information, but right this minute, what I know about really isn't important. What's important is that that cult leader – going by the name Ishtar – is most definitely a snakehead, right down to the glowing eyes and extreme lack of clothing. Self-proclaimed goddess of love, procreation and war – or vengeance, depending on the translation. Well, that at least explains why the mercs are mixing with the academics. Question now is… where do we go from here? What proof do you want? How the hell do I get her away from Sunnydale – and preferably the rest of the planet, too?"


Part XIII