Since I am a poor chickadee with no wealth to speak of, I think it's safe to say that neither BtVS nor Stargate SG-1 are mine. ^^;Written for: TtH August Fic A Day ChallengeSummary: The head of Homeworld Command and the Slayer’s Council meet for dinner.Author's notes:
Comics? What comics? >.> This is set post season 7 for BtVS, and post season 9 for Stargate SG-1.
He was military, which should have been an automatic shut down for Buffy; she’d been done that path before, and that way held only pain. She knew
that. She’d chanted it to herself a thousand times, usually right after or right before leaving or going into his office. She’d almost decided to just got wild and get some kind of tattoo of it, if it’d make it easier to remember. Or, easier to keep her heart from going wild every freaking time she saw him. Of course, Buffy wasn’t really one to go with her head when it came to matters of her heart. That was most likely why she was standing nervously just outside the restaurant, trying to gather up the courage to either leave, or actually go in to meet with him.
The sharp exclamation hade her freeze, coming from a completely unexpected direction- behind her. She turned quickly, masking the uncertainty in her expression and replacing it with a cool, unimpressed look. She’d been going back and forth with him for far too long than to let him win and one-up her. “You called?” she remarked dryly, arms crossing over her chest as arched an eyebrow at him
“You betcha!” Jack grinned widely at her, shoving his hands deep in his pockets- jeans, for once, instead of his usual dress blues, and damn if she didn’t half want him to turn around and give her a good look at how his ass looked in the tight denim- and rocking back on the balls of his feet. She rolled her eyes at his kid-in-a-candy-store act, and he smirked. “It’s no O’Malley’s, but for our purposes, it’ll do. Now get your rear in there, and let’s have dinner.”
“You do realize that if you can’t order me around officially, you definitely
can’t do it outside of the office, right?”
“Then- think of it as more of a suggestion
,” came the answer, his smirk shifting to a wide grin. “What else are you gonna do, stand out here and stare at the door for the rest of the night?”
He had her, and he knew it, if the cocked eyebrow and sweeping ‘after you’ gesture he made with one hand was any indication. Shaking her head, the blonde followed the gesture and stepped through the door he so gallantly opened for her. Of course, she still wasn’t entirely defeated.
“You’re paying,” she commented casually, and her own smirk grew at the look that flashed through his eyes as she passed. Served him right for calling her out for a ‘business’ dinner out of the blue. And especially for showing up dressed like a normal guy, and looking practically good enough to eat. Not that she had any thoughts of what he might taste like, or what he’d look like without
the jeans, nope! Chaste Buffy thoughts were so in effect!
“No problem.” Smug jerk. “Now come on, our reservation’s waiting.” Then, with a wave, he took the lead, not waiting for her to follow, but simply expecting her too. She had half a thought to wonder what he’d do if she planted herself there instead of following, but after a moment, curiosity overtook her. Up until this point, all of their business had been done strictly in the office, despite previous suggestions to go elsewhere to spice up the dull negotiating between the Slayers and Homeworld Command. Not that much was dull when Jack O’Neil and Buffy Summers were involved, but that was beside the point. The point
- was that this was something out of the ordinary, and despite the slight nervousness still fluttering around in her stomach, she had no idea why
he’d called her out like this. So, she followed.
Followed Jack to a table set for two in a private back room. A rather exquisitely
set table, at that.
Buffy stared, slack jawed, for a long moment, until Jack’s grin appeared in her line of vision.
“Finally made you speechless, huh? Good, makes it easier to do something I’ve wanted to do for awhile.”
Before she completely registered what he’d said, his lips pressed to hers for a brief, yet heavenly moment. Then he let the contact break, and sauntered over to one of the seats at the table.
“By the way, Summers? Did I mention tonight’s not for business?”
Smug, smug, smarmy, sexy jerk. She didn’t know if she wanted to kill him or kiss him. Either way, it was going to be fun.