A Doctor’s Work
by P.H. Wise
An Angel crossover shortfic
Author’s note: This is an interlude of sorts. It’s set in the universe of ‘Epigoni,’ but doesn’t directly connect to the main storyline. I wasn’t really sure what to do with it, but eventually I figured that I might as well post it. This particular story takes place about two weeks after the end of chapter 5.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Angel. I don’t own Stargate. Please don’t sue me. This story contains spoilers for the final episode of Angel.
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Doctor Elizabeth Weir sat uncomfortably in the desk that had once belonged to General Hammond. Her hair was still dyed blonde, though she was considering letting it return to its natural brunette colour. Blonde really didn’t seem to be working for her here.
She realized with a start that she was obsessing over trivialities.
Here she was, in command of the greatest secret the world had ever known, and she was worrying about her hair colour.
Weir shook her head bemusedly.
She had been on the job for only a little while now, and already she was getting a headache. With a hand on her forehead, she looked up as Walter, the Gate technician, poked his head inside the office.
“You sent for me, Ma’am?” he asked.
Weir nodded. “I did. How long have you been working here, Walter?”
“Oh, since...” Walter thought about it. “Since the beginning, really.”
“It’s a little bit overwhelming.”
Walter nodded. “Yeah, it can be kind of intense.”
“OK. If you’ve been here from the beginning, maybe you’re the best one to ask this: is there anything else I should be aware of that I haven’t been told just yet?”
Walter’s expression was very carefully blank.
“...What? What is it?” Weir asked.
“Well...”
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Several minutes later, Weir stood in the open doorway of the cafeteria, staring at the two ‘aliens’ who were seated at a table therein. SG-1 was in the cafeteria as well – on the opposite side – and as she watched Illyria and the Groosalug, snatches of the flagship team’s conversation filtered in to her awareness.
“Proklarush Taonas,” Doctor Jackson insisted. “I think you wrote the name of the planet where we'll find the lost city in the crossword.
“... Bit of a jump,” O’Neill replied.
“Well, why else would you do that?”
Major Carter reached out and took Jack’s crossword puzzle from Daniel. “The clue for seven down is 'celestial body' and he wrote 'Uma Thurman'.”
O’Neill smiled. “Yes!” he said contentedly.
Their conversation went on, but Doctor Weir ignored it. Far more interesting to her were the two aliens. “Who are they?” she asked.
Groo ate another spoonful from his bowl full of red jello. “... and then I leaped into the vast horde of Graxlar beasts, sword in hand, cutting and slicing my way through them with the sure skill that grants unto me the title of Groosalug. They were many, and valiant, but they were no match; they all fell before me in the end, and I took the baby cow that they had taken for their evening meal, and returned it to its mother.”
Illyria nodded thoughtfully. “At the height of my power, these ‘Graxlars’ would have slain themselves at the very rumor of my approach.” Her tone was strange, and it sounded as though she wasn’t really sure whether or not she liked that idea any more.
Groo nodded seriously. “Times change, Old One. What was once familiar and safe is gone, and now there is only change, and newness, and walls.”
That seemed to upset Illyria slightly, but she nodded. “Yes. Humans do seem to love to wall themselves in.”
Elizabeth turned to Walter, who stood nearby. “Who are they?” she asked again.
Walter blinked. “His name is Groosalug. She’s Illyria.”
“What are they doing here?”
“They... won’t leave. Well, he won’t, and she can’t. Although technically she COULD, and we wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop her, but so far she hasn’t.”
Dr. Weir could feel that headache coming back.
End A Doctor’s Work
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