Authors Notes:

Fandom(s): Stargate SG-1/Tomorrow People (New Series) Crossover

Spoilers: All of The Tomorrow People; Season 7 of Stargate SG-1, particularly the episodes "Inauguration," "Lost City, Part 1," and "Lost City, Part 2." Also spoilers relating to Stargate Atlantis.

Warnings: Mentions multiple character deaths.

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: The characters and situations portrayed here are not mine. The Tomorrow People, Jade Weston, Marmaduke Damon, Ami Jackson, Kevin Wilson and Bill Damon all belong to Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tetra Television, ITV and Nickelodeon. Stargate SG-1 and universe, Paul Davis, Kinsey, Hayes, Major Carter, Dr. Jackson, Agent Barrett, and the NID are all the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions.

Additional notes: italics indicate telepathy and/or projected thoughts

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She is quiet today. Sitting at a corner table in the outdoor cafe, the animated plick-pluck of her fingernails against the Styrofoam of the coffee cup telling him more than she realizes; or perhaps she does realize and she simply doesn't care. It's hard to know with her sometimes, it's hard really to know anything at all with any of them at any given time. For every step forward it's two steps back and sometimes he wonders why he even comes to these unexpected and impromptu meetings.

Then he remembers the darker days, back when he worked for a different secret agency and had a different agenda and the man he worked for was possibly even more evil than the Vice President of the United States, a feat that some would not have thought possible. And it is when he remembers those things that he comes. It doesn't matter what he's doing, or where he is, he simply comes.

She looks up at him, somber blue eyes set in a youthful face should be younger than that. But hers are not; her eyes are old and her face is weary. The half-smile doesn't reach her eyes even as she indicates the other cup of coffee with a negligent wave of her wrist. "Double espresso with a shot of raspberry."

"Just the way I like it," he smiles too, but it's forced and it's faked because he knows that this isn't a social visit. Not that most of the visits are, but some are more social than others. Some allow time for small talk, for good feelings and warm fuzzies, but the darkness of her eyes tells him that this will not be one of those times.

"I thought you were going to stand me up." The words are short and clipped, yet somehow her accent softens them.

"It took me awhile to get away," he explains and has a feeling of déjà vu. This is not the first time he has explained this to her, to any of them, but usually it's just her. It's a familiar song and dance, but he is not comforted by the familiarity of all of it. "I like to know who's following me."

Not, "I was trying not to be followed," but rather "I like to know who's following me," because it is a given that he has been followed. Vice President Kinsey doesn't trust him and likes him even less; it is no secret that he is followed on a daily basis, sometimes even into the men's room at the Pentagon. He is accustomed to it and he pretends not to notice, confident that as long as he plays dumb Kinsey will keep his distance and, more importantly, Kinsey's goons will keep their distance and no one will really know that these clandestine meetings aren't because Paul has a thing for women half his age.

She nods as though she expected that answer.

There is silence while he sits and drinks, although he really doesn't want the espresso because the thought of having a caffeine twitch while meeting with the President frightens him more than the possibility of having been followed and found out.

"Jade, I don't have much time. I have to meet with President Hayes in," he pauses, checks his watch and catches sight of his shadow for the day out of the corner of his eyes. This one must be new; he's awkward and it's not the first time since leaving the Pentagon that Paul's caught sight of the man. He is almost tempted to raise his cup and offer the man a toast, but he resists that urge. Barely. "In a little over an hour."

"No time for me today, Paul?" Jade bats her eyes, a mimicry of flirtation, making the espresso taste more bitter and sending a cold tingle along his spine.

He doesn't have time for this. Maybe he owes them for the work he did with SIA and Colonel Masters, the age old research on teleporters and telepaths that should have been forgotten and destroyed, but was not. However, owing them or not, guilt or no guilt, Major Paul Davis is really pressed for time today and he doesn't have time to play games.

"Jade." There is an edge, a warning to his voice.

They have two more. We want them out.

The force of the words spoken actually in his head does not surprise him. Once upon a time they did, but no longer. If she could not use this method to speak to him, well practiced and honed over the span of six short months, they would have been found out long ago.

Jade doesn't have to say what the two more are or who has them. He knows just as surely as he knows his name is Paul and that the woman sitting across from him is a Tomorrow Person, the next step in human evolutions. That is, of course if her species is allowed to evolve and doesn't become extinct through sheer mob mentality terror and fearful propaganda spread by the extreme religious fanatics and the NID.

It's some twisted sort of irony that the "mass breakouts" of Tomorrow People began at the same time that the people of earth became aware of the existence of the Stargate, the Goa'uld and the even more threatening and elusive Wraith. The twisted irony made people afraid, and people who are afraid are easily manipulated; more new Tomorrow People "disappear" each day than actually make it to some semblance of safety off-world or underground.

Twisted irony that the people least likely to trust the military have placed their trust in a very elite few to help them save their race.

He imagines that Kinsey would have Major Carter and even Dr. Jackson tried for treason if he ever found out, and Paul would be right alongside them.

Paul Davis walks a fine line. Because the Vice President is snuggled warmly in bed with the rogue element of the NID, one of the most powerful and as yet untouchable heads of that particular secret organization and even though President Hayes knows that he can not trust the man any further than he could throw him, he will not tip his hand to move against Kinsey yet. So, he says nothing and silently condones the persecution of The Tomorrow People and he pretends to not know that Paul is part of some underground movement.

Plausible deniability protects President Hayes, and even the vileness that is Kinsey. There is no such protection for an Air Force Major who followed his heart to make up for the past and sometimes wonders if he is even doing that.

When? Paul doesn't ask, he just thinks and he knows that she'll pick it up from all of the other noise in the café. And it's two questions, not one. When did the NID grab them and when do Jade and the others want to come for them? That is of course providing Paul can find out where the NID has taken them, and provided that they haven't been damaged beyond repair by having Goa'uld DNA spliced into them – or something worse.

It's hard to know where the NID is concerned.

This morning. And tomorrow.

I don't know if that's enough time. And truthfully, he doesn't. It's not as easy as it used to be; the break-ins, the escapes, Kinsey has started looking harder and digging deeper. It will only be a matter of time before Paul will be forced to do nothing and watch innocent children die.

It has to be. Any longer than that and you know it won't be worth it. Her gaze goes inward, turning sadder and darker and Paul knows that she is thinking of the others, the ones that were captured before Bill Damon sought him out; the ones that died before Paul convinced her to trust him and to trust a few people who already earned the ardent dislike of the Vice President. Marmaduke Damon, Ami Jackson, Kevin Wilson, Paul knew their names, but that was all they were to him, names on death certificates. To her, they had been so much more, and without Masters and the inevitable aid Paul had never realized that he was giving the man, maybe they would be more than names on paper to him as well.

I can't make promises, Jade, but you know I'll do my best.

Then that will have to do won't it?

Jade kisses him before she leaves; long and deep, but cold and empty because it really is all for show and aside from her age there are a million more reasons that it would never be anything more than that anyway. She strolls off down the street like she owns it, like she's nothing more than a coed at Georgetown University on a student visa whom just met her older more worldly lover for a brief cup of coffee. He doesn't tell her to be careful when she leaves, he knows that she always is; if she wasn't this would have been over a long time ago.

He hurries to the White House, to his meeting with the President, but his mind is only halfway focused on the latest threat to the earth and what needs to be done at the SGC. He's already mentally lining up his contacts who can get into NID files undetected, already arranging the coded conversation he will have with Agent Barret. Mentally he is preparing himself for a mission that might well be more important than any mission through the Stargate and knowing that if it fails, he won't be branded a hero.

-- End --