(A Doctor Who/Stargate SG1 Crossover)
Blinking, Jack looked up from his grilled steak sandwich, and stared at the stranger who'd flopped into the vacant seat at the table and began to feverishly rearrange the condiments on the table. Jeeze, what did a guy have to do to get a quiet bite to eat around here...and were those ears real?
"Okay, so it's like this," the stranger said, grinning widely as he waggled a pepper shaker under Jack's nose. "This is a Dalek, and this ....this is you!" Jack silently eyed the ketchup sachet the lunatic had snatched from the table, before slowly leaning back and glancing over his shoulder.
"Oy, trying to save the world here," the stranger said, impatience dripping off his words. "And yes, I am talking to you."
"So happy to hear it," Jack drawled dryly, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room. If this was another one of Daniel's practical jokes... "Makes me feel all special."
"Ah, it speaks," the idiot said cheerfully. "There's hope for you yet."
"Yeah, people keep telling me that. Personally, I think they're being a little overly optimistic."
"And sarcasm!" the stranger chirped cheerfully. "Fantastic! Now, if we've got the witty repartee out of the way, let's get down to business."
"And what business would that be?" Jack asked wearily, giving the cooling steak sandwich a wistful look.
"Oh, you know, the usual. Psychotic killer aliens trying to wipe out humanity," the stranger, said, his grin dropping from his face like a mask. "Happens more often than you'd think...but you already know that, don't you, Jack? So, as I was saying, this is a Dalek, and this is you--"
"Who the hell are you?" Jack interrupted flatly.
The stranger gave him a long, even look and leaned back in his chair. "Someone who's trying to help," he said softly. "And, trust me, you need help. You think the replicators were bad? The Daleks will make them look like a rowdy tea party, with too many rice krispy cakes...so let me help you."
Jack eyed the stranger, gauging him. "What did they do to you?" he asked softly.
"They destroyed my world," the stranger said simply, his eyes shadowed. "They eradicated them from history... as if they'd never existed."
Jack sighed, an alien, why was he not surprised? "You have a name?"
"They call me the Doctor."
"Ah, heard of me, have you?"
"I've read the file," Jack mumbled. "Torchwood really doesn't like you...although UNIT seems to differ on the subject."
"Ah, yes, you guys are actually sharing information, nowadays," the Doctor mused. "Pity it took an Ori threat to make you do it."
"I don't trust you."
"You don't trust anybody, but that's okay...all you have to do is listen."
"And if I don't?"
Carefully, the Doctor laid the sachet on the table, then slammed the pepper shaker down on it. The restaurant hushed, and Jack winced as he watched the ketchup leak all over the tablecloth. "That answer your question?" the Doctor asked
"Couldn't you have picked a less messy way of making your point," Jack complained.
"I believe in coming straight to the point," the Doctor said. "You willing to listen now?"
Jack sighed, so much for a quiet lunch. "I'm listening."
FICTION : BUFFY/ANGEL
FICTION : CROSSOVER
FICTION : E-MAIL ME