Spoilers: Seasons 1-4 of Angel; All of BtVS (including 'Chosen'); Seasons 1-8 of Stargate SG-1

Pairings: Wes/Fred; Sam/Jack; Daniel/Buffy (Eventually...plus others to come)

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters, situations or dialogue found in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, or Stargate SG-1. This is purely a work of fiction and no intent to defame or gain profit from this enterprise is intended.

A/N: Yuck, I hate exposition. Thanks for your patience while the SGC characters are brought up to speed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Riley looked around at his teammates and superior officer. They were staring at him. He took a mouthful of water from his glass and swallowed slowly. General O'Neill was to his right, Daniel Jackson to his left, Colonel Carter was to O'Neill's right, and Teal'c sat next to Colonel Carter. The staring continued. So much for this being a run-of-the-mill briefing. O'Neill had called him into the briefing room under the guise of preparing for their next mission. When Riley got there, he'd learned that Daniel was thinking of hiring Dawn to work as a civilian consultant for the SGC and that this was the brain-picking meeting he'd been dreading since last Monday.

Finally, Daniel spoke. "So, you know Dawn Summers."

"Yes. I dated her older sister while I was in college. I was Buffy's TA for Psych. 101. When their mother got sick, I spent a lot of time with Dawn." At Teal'c's questioning look, Carter leaned over and whispered a brief explanation of what a TA and Psych. 101 were. He nodded in response.

Jack consulted the extremely thin folder in front of him. "At UC Sunnydale."

Riley nodded, reluctant to answer questions that they weren't asking him. Years after the fact, anything related to the Initiative was still highly classified. He didn't want to say anything inadvertently that would get him court-martialled. The U.S. government had taken enough from him–he refused to spend the rest of his life in Leavenworth.

Carter spoke up at this point. "Sunnydale. The news said that the town disappeared in the wake of an earthquake about five years ago."

"Yes."

She pursed her lips and looked to Daniel for confirmation. Apparently his psychic radar was on the fritz, since he had no idea what she was looking for and merely shrugged in response. "And the really strange thing about that, if I remember correctly, was that there was zero recorded seismic activity reported on that day. Not just in California, but on the entire west coast. The explanation just doesn't make sense."

That statement obviously peaked Daniel's interest. He sat up straight and was going to say something when O'Neill interrupted.

"You checked the seismic activity reports? Geez, Carter, you really need a hobby." O'Neill ignored the look from his 2IC that said seismology was a hobby and continued his interrogation...er...debriefing of Finn. "And you know about this slayer myth thing? I assume you're not talking about the metal band?"

After smiling briefly at the return of the familiar bad joke, Riley inwardly cursed his stupidity for making his abrupt and completely non-sneaky exit from lunch a week ago. He couldn't have been less covert if he'd been wandering around cemeteries looking for vamps while munching on a bag of Doritos.

Here was where the explanations started to get sticky. He hadn't counted on Sam Carter knowing about the lack of seismic activity, although maybe he should have. When it came to science, it seemed like the woman knew everything. The major networks and AP wire, on the other hand, hadn't even questioned the cover story. "It's not a myth."

Daniel looked like he'd just been shot someplace unpleasant with a zat and sat up even straighter. "It's not a myth? Then what is it?"

"It's the truth. Those first person accounts that you were so excited about? They were written by men called Watchers. Their job, their only job, was to provide information and training to their assigned slayer."

Daniel removed his glasses and placed them on the table, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "And a slayer is what, again?"

Another sip of water. "A female warrior, genetically predestined to fight the forces of darkness."

"The electric company?" Carter snorted at O'Neill's remark. Riley shook his head. Apparently the General was forgiven for his earlier comment about her lack of hobbies.

"Vampires, primarily. Occasionally some demons. An apocalypse every once in a while."

Teal'c's eyebrow rose in question. Maybe. Anyway, it was up. "RileyFinn, what is a vampire?"

"Undead bloodsucking traitorous creature-feature assholes." Teal'c nodded solemnly.

Jack grinned. "Oh, like the Tok'ra."

Before Daniel or Sam could interrupt and defend their sometime allies, Riley continued, smirking, "No. More actual bloodsucking, generally less treachery. Usually they're pretty direct. Or their evil plan's so obvious that they might as well tell you what they're doing. Think of an Unas, but with a less charming personality. And sometimes, if you're really, truly unlucky, a cockney accent and peroxide blond hair."

Teal'c nodded understandingly. As if anything Riley was saying made sense. "Indeed."

Before Riley could continue, Carter spoke again, sure of her scientific knowledge. After all, it had never failed her before. "Vampires and demons don't exist, Riley. They're fictional creatures glamorized by the entertainment industry. They're the villains in horror movies. Dracula. Frankenstein's monster. Dr. Jekyll. They're not real."

Riley blushed slightly. "Actually, Colonel, I met Dracula. He made a friend of mine his butt monkey. Er...begging your pardon for the language, General, Colonel, but that's what my friend said Dracula did to him. I never really got all the particulars, but I think eating live spiders was involved. I couldn't tell you about the monster or Dr. Jekyll, since I never saw them face to face or knew anyone who did."

O'Neill's mouth fell open and his eyes lit up like a kid with a new bike and a free afternoon. Carter made a face at the idea of eating live spiders. "That's awesome." He'd get more information out of Finn about Dracula and the whole butt monkey spider eating thing when they weren't in a briefing. Maybe over a couple of beers–this was a guy who evidently had a bunch of war stories that were at least as weird, if not weirder, than his own.

Not nearly as enchanted by the possibilities as O'Neill, Sam couldn't let it go. "How can you be sure that the stories aren't really talking about the Unas and Goa'uld and just calling them vampires and demons?"

Riley heaved a large sigh of frustration and rubbed his temples. "Other than the whole 'Crap, that's Dracula?' experience, you mean? Trust me, Colonel, they're real. I've never read or even seen the journals that Dawn sent to Dr. Jackson, but I've met and held conversations with vampires and demons. Now that I've experienced the fuzzy happy bunniness that is the Goa'uld, I can tell you that they're completely different kettles of stuff to worry about."

Still disbelieving but unable to marshal a logical argument in the face of Riley's greater experience and absolute certainty, Carter shut her mouth with a snap. Desperate, she fall back on the 'What the hell, it works for O'Neill' approach to debating. "Riley, they can't be real. It's ridiculous. Someone would have said something. Newspapers. Police reports. Smoke signals. Hell, I don't know, anything! The government would have told someone about it."

Riley shot Carter a look. "With due respect, Colonel Carter, you mean the way they told everyone about the Stargate? Because I was just watching the news..."

"Easy there, Finn." O'Neill frowned at the man, who was bordering on insubordination. Before this discussion, he hadn't even known the guy had a sense of humor, let alone a temper. "I'm sure Carter didn't mean the general public, because that would be stupid and shortsighted, which she isn't."

That statement earned him a glare from Carter. He gave an affronted sniff and lifted his chin in the air. Fine, see if he leapt to defend her honor again. He continued, "Does the government know about this?"

"Yes."

"Is there a classified program underground somewhere to deal with the problem?"

Riley blinked and looked directly into O'Neill's eyes. "No. And I can't really tell you anything else about that–you should probably ask the President those questions."

O'Neill digested that statement and all of its implications. He'd call both Hammond and the President after this meeting. "So, basically, what you're telling me is that the entire fate of the world rests in the hands of one woman? What the hell kind of dumbass system is that?"

"Cool." Feeling much more empowered than she'd been when she'd entered the room a half hour earlier, Carter grinned before she could help herself. O'Neill stuck his tongue out at her.

Knowing his superior officers and how quickly SG-1 briefings could degenerate into chaos, Riley spoke quickly, but deliberately. This wasn't news that would go down easily. It hadn't for him, at least. "Not really, Colonel. Most of the time, the female warrior's a young girl. Like fifteen years old young. Sometimes even younger–twelve, thirteen. There are reports of slayers living to the ripe old age of thirty, but generally they only last a year or two before the next one is called."

O'Neill's jaw tightened and a vein in his temple began to throb at the idea of young girls in battle. "Called? What the hell does that mean?"

Riley swallowed again and inhaled. He'd heard rumors of O'Neill's personal history and was aware of the kind of issues this might bring up for him. "Until recently, there's been only one slayer at a time–when the active slayer dies, the next one down the line is 'called,' or has her genetic abilities turned on."

Becoming increasingly disturbed by the entire slayer mythos, O'Neill glared at Riley, as if it was all the young officer's fault. "Exactly what kind of genetic abilities are we talking about here?"

Riley frowned as he tried to remember all the details, mentally crossing his fingers and hoping that by revealing this information he wasn't setting Buffy, Faith, and all the other slayers up for government experimentation. "Increased strength, speed and stamina, accelerated healing, occasionally they have prophetic dreams, heightened sight and hearing, and the ability to physically sense vampires."

O'Neill grimaced. "Sweet. And all they have to do in exchange is spend their childhood fighting the bogeyman in the closet and characters from horror movies. Not that they get to actually decide to make the exchange or anything..." He ran a hand through his gray hair, leaving spikes sticking up, trying to ignore mental images of Cassie and Charlie doing battle with the monsters under the bed. He sighed and looked at Riley. "Do they get any training, or are they left on their own to fend for themselves while these Watcher guys take notes and fill out forms?"

Riley winced at O'Neill's description of the Watchers. From what he understood from Buffy, the guys before Giles and Wesley had been very hands-off, note-taking kind of people. Thankfully, he didn't have to tell the general that. "Usually slayers, or those targeted as potential slayers, were taken away from their families and trained in battle techniques and arcane knowledge from the time they were toddlers. I'm told there's also a handbook, but no one I know has ever seen it."

O'Neill was speechless. Carter and Daniel looked dumbfounded. Teal'c was the one who responded. "It is not unheard of to take young warriors from their families and train them as a unit to increase their effectiveness in battle. It was a common practice on Chulak. I believe that you use such measures in your own armed forces as well, do you not, O'Neill?"

That question was apparently too much for Jack. He stood and began to pace. He turned to Teal'c. "For crying out loud! It's completely different. We don't start training them until they're eighteen years old. And they choose to fight! We don't kidnap them and raise them knowing that their entire lives are about death and destruction; we don't leave them without friends and family for support."

He looked blindly at Carter for a minute, lost in alternate scenarios, then turned to Riley, running his hand restlessly through his hair again. "Christ, how do they handle it? They should be playing with dolls, talking on the phone, dreaming about what to wear to a dance, learning how to rebuild carburetors and change flat tires–shit...doing anything else...not living nothing but weapons, war and the constant fight for survival. Babies. They're nothing but babies..."

Riley looked at his superior officer. "It's all they knew."

This quiet, simple statement sapped O'Neill's remaining energy. He stopped pacing and sat in the chair next to Carter's. She looked at him questioningly and moved to put her hand on his arm in support but he shook his head infinitesimally and she withdrew, linking both hands in her lap.

Daniel, uncharacteristically quiet up to this point, ignored the byplay between Sam and Jack and turned to his teammate. "You've spoken of them in the past tense several times now. What's changed?"

Riley inhaled sharply and damned Daniel for both his linguistic skills and his insight. This was a lot more detail than he wanted to get into with his teammates. "About five years ago, there was a...change...in the...procedures...involved in the selection process. There are now thousands of them."

"Thousands of little girls against vampires and demons?" O'Neill cursed fluently at the thought. The idea of thousands of young, innocent girls fighting an unwinnable fight was horrifying–like sending a class of pony-tailed middle schoolers into the jungles of Vietnam.

Riley was flustered. Maybe this explanation should have waited. It would have been better coming from Dawn or Giles. Even Buffy. He thought for a second. Okay, maybe not Buffy.

"They're not so little now. The girls, I mean, not the vampires. Not that the vampires are little, but...anyway, the...um...the selection process is different. It was really chaotic for a couple of years, but now the girls don't get 'chosen' until their eighteenth birthday. They're allowed to have contact with their family and friends but they're required to attend a special training facility–kind of like a boarding school."

"Or boot camp." Carter glanced at O'Neill from under her lashes, worried because he hadn't said anything obnoxious or sarcastic in a couple of minutes. He definitely wasn't pleased with what he was hearing, but at least he was taking Riley seriously. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what kind of weaponry do they have?"

One corner of Riley's mouth quirked up as he remembered Buffy kicking his ass back when they were still dating. Her effortless attack and all that energy and purpose. "Swords, crossbows, knives, quarter staffs, holy water, sticks, chairs, a wicked looking scythe, but usually they just use their fists and feet." O'Neill cursed again, having just armed his hypothetical middle schoolers with nothing but rocks before dropping them in the middle of the Vietnamese jungle.

"Um...going back to Dawn Summers for a minute...since she's the woman I'm thinking about hiring and bringing into the SGC...is she a slayer?" O'Neill looked up, startled by Daniel's question. That thought hadn't occurred to him. Did he even want a slayer at the SGC? Something to ponder later.

Riley thanked his lucky stars for that question. It was close, but he wouldn't have to lie to answer it. "No, she's not."

"So where did she get these diaries?" Daniel's blue eyes were burning into Riley's, impelling him to tell the truth.

"She knows most of the slayers." Which was true–there were so many now that even a busybody like Dawn couldn't lay claim to knowing every single slayer. Plus, most of them lived in Cleveland, so Dawn didn't see the ones she knew that often.

Somehow Daniel knew there was more to it than that. "And?"

"She's in training to be a Watcher."

"Shit. Seriously?" Daniel was sorry he'd asked. Even if hearing him swear had brought a grin to O'Neill's face and made Teal'c raise an eyebrow. Carter still looked concerned.

Riley nodded so there couldn't possibly be any misunderstanding or wishful thinking. "Yes."

It was Daniel's turn to run his hand through his hair in frustration. He'd be up and pacing in a minute. "Any chance she'd change her mind?"

Riley glanced at Daniel and shook his head. "I wouldn't think so. She was pretty gung ho about it last time I spoke with her, but she might be willing to give the SGC a shot if you tell her the truth about what's going on."

Daniel put his glasses back on and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You were speaking metaphorically about the apocalypses, right?"

Riley looked a bit sheepish and proud at the same time. "Um...final answer?"

"Spit it out, Finn." O'Neill wanted to bring an end to this briefing. He had a few choice things to say to the President and General Hammond.

"There have been at least eight that I'm aware of, one that I was personally there for. Although, now that I think about it, maybe Adam was more of a pain in the ass than a true apocalypse...you'd have to ask Dawn for the most recent accounting when she gets here. They've got an equation and a one hundred point scale and everything."

O'Neill turned to Daniel and smirked. "Still think that repeatedly saving the world is going to be enough to bring your errant linguist into the fold? You better come up with something bigger."

Bigger than saving the world? At a loss, Daniel looked at Riley. "Any ideas?"

"She likes chocolate..."

O'Neill slammed his head into the table and looked up at his premier team. "Get out. All of you. Carter, don't go wandering too far–I'll want to talk to you after I get off the phone with the President and Hammond. Daniel, don't you have a linguist to pick up at the airport?"

Daniel looked at his watch. He had about an hour before the Summers' women's flight got into Denver. He'd just make it. "Yeah. Riley, you doing anything right now? I wouldn't mind the company on the drive. Plus you know them already, so you can help me through all the getting to know you awkwardness." The drive would also give him more time to pick Riley's brain about Dawn and what might make her choose to change her life.

Riley shifted in his seat. Right, he knew there was something he'd forgotten to tell Daniel. Like his entire emotional history with Buffy–who was definitely a slayer. And that the problem wasn't going to be the 'getting to know you' awkwardness–it was going to be the 'I already know what you look like naked' awkwardness and the 'I accidentally walked in on you after you'd just finished having sex with an idiotic blond vamp' awkwardness. Maybe Daniel wouldn't notice. Then he remembered the archeologist's questions during the briefing. Shit, maybe he would.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Let me get my jacket." He stood and walked towards the locker rooms, dragging his feet like he was on his way to the guillotine.

The rest of SG-1 stood and walked out of the briefing room–Carter to her lab, Teal'c to his quarters. Daniel was waiting for the elevator to arrive when he heard O'Neill's voice. "Daniel?"

"Yeah, Jack?" Turning, Daniel waited for the comment–Jack's eyes were too bright for this not to be something asinine.

"Next time you need more personnel, do me a favor and just kidnap them, okay?"

"Whatever you say, Jack." Shaking his head, Daniel turned back towards the elevator as Jack closed the door to his office and walked towards the red phone.