Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing

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Post 'Chosen' for Buffy.
Post 'Four Horsemen' for Stargate.

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Notes: I was halfway through the next part of 'Concrete Jungle' when this plot bunny hit me and wouldn't go away. So here is the first part of my new Stargate crossover and the next part of 'Concrete Jungle' should be out by the end of the week.

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Dearest Hank,

Bet you never thought you would hear from me again did you? Do you even remember me? I know we were only together for a short time, but I hope you do. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't it would just make this easier. Then again, probably not.

I'm not sure why I finally decided to contact you after all these years. It's something I've been meaning to do for a long time but always found a reason not to. I couldn't tell you why now except to say that it feels like if I don't do it now I'll never get another chance. There's something strange going on around here. A feeling of, well, something. People are leaving the town by the dozens though. Tony says -- well it's not important what Tony says.

This isn't what I wanted to tell you about. Can you tell I'm nervous?

The truth is I wronged you and for that I'm sorry. I'd like to say I always planned to tell you but I know that's not the case. There were moments where I nearly did but I always chickened out. It was just easier to pretend. To pretend that we were the happy family even though we are anything but.

I don't know any gentle way to do this so I'll just come out and say it.

I have a son. We have a son.

Have I got your attention?

Those months we were together were some of the most amazing times of my life but when I found out I was pregnant I was scared. Not because I thought you would take the news poorly but because it would make you stay; and that I would let you.

Confused? I know I'm not getting this out the most clear. I don't know how to get what's in my head down on the paper in something that makes sense. I'll try to explain.

You already had a daughter you never saw, even when you were still with your ex-wife. You were always away on one assignment or another, never able to talk about what you had done.

I don't blame you. Your dedication is one of the reasons I fell in love with you. If it had just been me I would have stayed forever but I didn't want my child to grow up with a part time father. So I left you without a word and tried to find someone else for the role of husband and father.

Anthony, as it would turn out, was a poor choice and he dragged me down with him. I'm ashamed to say I let him do it. Ashamed that I wasn't the mother I should have been. It's been a year since I've spoken to my own son. Not since his failed attempt at a wedding.

I blame myself for the fear I saw in his eyes at the rehearsal dinner. With his stepfather and I as examples of marriage how could he not be a little afraid? Despite that I know he loves Anya and I'm not sure what could have caused him to run. If there's one thing I know about my son it's that he doesn't run. Even when he probably should.

He picked up the pieces since then though. I may not have spoken with him, but I've seen him around town on occasion and he seems happy. His friends helped him in that more than I ever could have.

Work's been good for him too. He's a construction worker and a good one at that. I heard he made foreman this year. A friend told me they saw him on a date not long ago and I'm glad. I can only hope he finds someone who makes him as happy as you made me.

His name is Alexander Lavelle Harris and he is a good man. A man you would be proud of. Tony and I had very little to do with it. On my more reflective days I thank a God I don't often believe in for him becoming better than the environment I provided.

I'm sorry more than I could ever say that you are only finding out about our son after he is already grown. You deserve to know the truth Hank, you always did but I was a too much of a coward to tell you. Enclosed is his number and address, I know it doesn't make up for what I've done but I hope it's a start.

With love and regret,

Jessica Lavelle-Harris

--o--o--o--

Major General Hank Landry read the letter for what had to be at least the twelfth time.

The rest of the mail he had been sorting long since forgotten after he came across the letter. It was dated just over two weeks ago and postmarked Sunnydale, California.

Hank placed the lettered down with a tired sigh and held his face in his hands. He remembered Sunnydale. The letter was sent only days before it was levelled by a freak sinkhole.

He didn't know what to think right now, what to do. Hank Landry was a man used to being in control. As much as he could be anyways. He held command of perhaps the most secret and most important installation on the planet. He made decisions that could affect the entire world, among others, on virtually a daily basis.

Now his thoughts were a chaotic mess.

I have a son?

Did he make it out? Is he still alive?

What's he like?

What does he think about me?

Does he even know about me?

Hank leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. After a few deep breaths he opened his eyes up, his gaze falling on his phone. Before he knew what he was doing the receiver was in his hand and he had pressed number one on his speed dial. He nearly hung up when a tired voice answered on the other end. Instead he swallowed audibly and pressed on.

"Carolyn, it's Dad."

"I know it's late."

"No, there's no emergency at the mountain."

"I know it's late but is it alright if I come over? We really need to talk. Please?"