Jack O'Neill set a brisk pace as they trekked across the island. Buffy watched the way he moved. He just seemed to be sauntering along, like he didn't have a care in the world, and he wasn't in any particular hurry to get anywhere, but his long strides ate up the distance. It reminded her of the way Riley had moved sometimes when they were out on patrol together. She glanced back toward Murray, who was bringing up the rear of their column. He was much less relaxed looking. His gait was closer to a march, and he still looked like he thought he was guarding them. He hadn't spoken yet, and she was starting to wonder if he was mute or something.
She dropped back a bit, and fell in beside Willow. "So, are you sensing anything from Murray? I'm getting a weird vibe off him."
"Demon?" asked Willow quietly.
Buffy shook her head. "Don't know. Just…not of the norm. Maybe it's the way he just doesn't talk."
"He definitely seems to be the strong silent type," said Willow. She closed her eyes for a moment. "I'm not feeling any sort of magic from him. If he's a demon, it's not one with any sort of magical power…or it's very good at shielding."
"How about Jack?" asked Buffy.
"No magic," said Willow. "Nothing demony…but he's carrying a gun."
"Yeah," said Buffy. "I noticed that."
Jack was watching Buffy. Every time he glanced back, as if to make sure everyone was keeping up, he looked at her. He could see that she was curious about Teal'c. He'd have to talk to the big guy, give him some pointers on the fine art of making small talk. His silent routine sometimes roused suspicions. He was also pondering the pack that Buffy was carrying. You could judge the weight of a pack from the way a person carried it. It didn't matter how strong they were, a heavy pack affected the balance of the person under it: how they leaned to keep their center of gravity over their feet. Buffy's pack must weigh at least as much as she did—maybe more, she couldn't weigh all that much—but she carried it so effortlessly it seemed like it was full of nothing but air. The others were looking about how he expected them to: Dawn and Xander were easily keeping up with the pace he was setting, Willow and Rupert were starting to look like they could use a break. He remembered a good place to stop a few hundred meters up ahead. He turned back to tell them, and saw that Buffy was having some sort of quiet conversation with Willow. He wished he could hear what they were saying.
"We're going to be crossing a stream, just a little way up ahead," he said loudly, to make sure everyone heard him. "It'll be a good place to take a break."
Willow was the first to drop to the ground when they reached the stream. "Oh, thank the goddess! I was just about ready to drop!"
"Goddess?" asked Teal'c.
"Hey!" said Dawn. "He speaks!"
"Willow's a Wiccan," said Buffy. "Big into the Earth-Mother-Goddess thing."
"A Wiccan named Rosenberg?" asked Jack.
"You have a problem with Jewish Wiccans, buster?" asked Willow.
Jack saw something flash in her eyes…a look that said it might not be a good idea to piss this girl off. "No…no problem."
Dawn was looking at the crystal clear water of the stream. "Would it be okay to refill my bottle here?"
"Sure, Dawn," said Xander. "But don't forget to add one of the purification tablets." He took a sip from his own bottle, which was still half full. He also pulled some sort of energy bar out of a pocket, took a bite from it, and used more water to wash it down.
"We were beginning to think you might be a mute, or something," Buffy said to Teal'c.
"No," said Teal'c, "I do not believe in talking unless I have something I wish to say."
"So, Murray, where are you guys from?" asked Xander.
"I am from Chulak," said Teal'c.
"Chulak?" asked Buffy. "Never heard of it."
"It's a small town in Colorado," said Jack.
"Oh yeah?" asked Dawn. "Is it near Colorado Springs?"
"Why do you think that?" asked Jack.
"Dr. Jackson's email address was through the Air Force Academy," said Dawn. "And I read something about him working for them."
This girl was entirely too bright for Jack's liking. "I understand that he's done some consulting for the Air Force, but we're working for the University of Colorado." They had papers that said so, and everything. All the proper permits for performing an archaeological dig here. Someone in the British government would be very surprised to learn that the permits that had been issued to them really were being used for a dig, and not as a cover for some sort of top secret NATO operation, though Jack had to wonder what sort of op they thought could be held in this god forsaken place.
He watched Dawn finish filling her water bottle, and then drop in a tablet from a bottle she took from her pocket. He saw that it was a commercial version of the same sort of tablets the SGC used. She shook her bottle to dissolve the tablet, and then started to raise it to her mouth. "You might want to wait a few minutes," he said.
Dawn lowered the bottle again. "Huh?"
"It takes a few minutes to be sure that those things have killed anything that was in the water," said Jack. He regretted that he had given her the advice for a moment—if she got sick, they might leave—but then he felt guilty about wishing that on the girl.
Dawn looked embarrassed. "Oh, thanks. So, where are you from?"
"Minnesota," said Jack.
"Oh yeah? I hear it's nice."
"What about you guys?" asked Jack. "Where are you from?"
"Westbury," said Dawn. "It's near Bath."
"But you're Americans," he glanced at Giles. "Well, most of you."
"Oh, our home town doesn't exist anymore," said Dawn.
"Really? What happened to it?"
"It fell into a giant sink hole. Sunnydale, California. It made all the news shows." Dawn couldn't help smiling. For some reason she found the sink hole explanation for the destruction of Sunnydale to be funny. Her smile quickly vanished as she remembered the people who had died that day though.
'Ah shit! Shit! Shit!' thought Jack. He should have read Giles' file for himself. Why hadn't Daniel mentioned Sunnydale? This was entirely too much of a coincidence. The SGC had gone onto high alert after what had happened there. SG-1 had been just about to ship out to investigate it—to see if there was any sort of alien involvement, maybe some new form of Goa'uld attack—when they had gotten the phone call from the Pentagon telling them they could stand down. The phone call had come from Major Davis, he remembered. The same man who had called Daniel as soon as he had taken an interest in Rupert Giles. Why hadn't Daniel told him about Sunnydale?
Jack turned his attention back to Dawn, afraid that she had noticed that he had reacted badly to what she had said, but she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. "Something wrong?"
"Hmm…no…it's just that… Some of my friends died in Sunnydale. It's okay."
Jack recognised the look in her eyes. It was a look he'd seen in the eyes of a lot of soldiers who had lost comrades in battle. He hated seeing it in a girl who couldn't be eighteen yet. "I've lost friends too. It's never 'okay.'"
Dawn nodded her understanding. Jack watched her for a moment, and saw that she would probably like to be alone for a moment. He turned his attention back to the others. Willow had her boots off, and was rubbing her feet. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Fine," said Willow. "I just should have broken in my boots better before I tried walking a few miles in them."
"You getting blisters?" asked Xander.
"No…just sore feet, but thanks for asking."
"It's important to look after your feet," said Xander. "Never know when you might need them to run away from something."
"You expect there to be anything on this island to run away from?" asked Jack.
"You never know," said Xander. "We might run into a pack of rabid penguins."
"Xander, the only penguins you are going to find within thousands of miles of here, are in a zoo," said Giles.
"How about rabid ducks?" asked Xander. "Could there be ducks?"
"Not with rabies," said Willow. "Birds don't get rabies."
"And there's no rabies in the British Isles anyway," added Dawn.
"And I think that we've had enough rest, if you feel up to having discussions about rabid ducks," said Giles.
