Title: Unexpected Inheritance

Author:lisa roquin

Fandom: BtVS/SG1

Pairing: Xan/Dan

Summary: Xander and Daniel's initial meeting, prequel-ish to Let It Snow

Disclaimer:All copyrighted characters and their respective universes are the property of their creators, authors, writers, production companies, publishers etc. Quite simply if you recognize it, it is in no way shape or form mine. This is purely for entertainment. No money made.

Author's Note: for atalante3134 's prompt request of Xander/Daniel

Daniel glared at the door.

*knockknockknockknock*

He cursed soundly in Abydonian as he levered himself off the couch.

"COMING" Daniel shouted. Today was the first day he'd set foot off the mountain in over a week, he'd been stuck on the translations SG12 had brought back while recovering from a battering taken on a Tok'ra-related mission. Once again the SGC bailing out Tok'ra butts for the sake of the shaky reformed alliance and not a thank you, not even a damn scrap of information.

At least most of his bruises were faded.

And the translation had proved to be the right thing, PRXsomething or other, was saved, the SGC had a new weapon for Sam to play with now that it wasn't in self destruct mode and threatening to destroy PRXwhatever. By the time he had the translation done, he hadn't even known what he was saying. Sam had lit up like a kid at Christmas and understood every word of it though, and defused the...whatever.

Jack had actually asked Paul Davis if he thought the Pentagon would spring for the electric bill and the equipment bill for Sam to have a lab on some uninhabited world so she didn't blow up the earth while playing with her reactors. Paul had been on base enough to actually consider the smart ass remark.

He was beyond exhausted, too the point he would probably bleed coffee if he cut himself just now and his mind wound to the point sleep was well beyond his grasp.

"Jack I just want to slee--" Daniel snarled as he pulled open the door. "You're not Jack."

The young man with the eye patch looked down at himself. "Nope, not Jack."

"Who are you?"

"Are you Daniel Jackson?"

"Yes..."

"Well, shit. Uh I've got some stuff for you. Wes left it to you in his will."

"Wes..."

"Wesley Wyndham Pryce?"

Daniel blinked. "Wesley died?"

"Yeah, couple months ago, gas leak, his building blew up. Out in LA."

"Wesley was in LA?"

"Yeah, he moved to California a few years back. That's where I met him."

"Wesley...God..."

"Yeah. He turned out to be a pretty cool guy once he got the stake removed from his butt."

"Stake..." Daniel mumbled. "Did you just say stake?"

"Uh, stick?"

"I'm so tired I'm hearing things," Daniel shook his head. "Uh..."

"I've got the stuff downstairs..."

"Okay, uhm."

"I'll be back in a minute okay?"

"You need help?"

"Nah, got it covered, besides, you don't really look like you're in much shape to help."

Daniel winced slightly. "Been a rough week."

The man at the door nodded agreebly. "Yeah, I know how those go. Be back in a bit okay?"

"Yeah," Daniel nodded and leaned against the door frame. His exhausted mind spun. Wesley? Wesley was dead.

Daniel dealt with death more than he wanted to, had all his life, starting with his parents. The risk of death was always there everytime anyone stepped through the gate, you had to believe they were coming back, you were coming back but the reality was it was a craps shoot and they just had one hell of a lucky streak going.

Wesley.

Wesley had left him something in his will? Wesley was dead? Wesley. The skinny kid with glasses and starched shirts so formal and proper and withdrawn. Daniel himself had been a geek of the first order, only twenty-one with one doctorate under his belt already and working on a Masters. Wesley had been a freshman, only seventeen and with an amazing command of languages already.

Gas leak? His building blew up.

That seemed... just something off about the tone, the body language. Daniel couldn't put his finger on it but somehow it seemed more like quoting a patented press release rather than what actually happened.

And Wesley, friends with someone who looked like this man? Shaggy dark hair, curling and months overdue for a haircut. An eyepatch. Some scars, several rather new looking, claw-like scars, on his forearms standing out angry red and aging white against tanned skin. A leanness to the man that seemed more worn than natural, as if he should have a bit more bulk to him than he did. That didn't quite make sense even in Daniel's own mind but the impression lingered the same.

The stranger was back carrying a large intricately carved wooden trunk that had to be as heavy or even heavier than it looked.

He moved like Jack did when Jack was threat assessing. Casual but overly alert, an easily missed tension that would be overlooked by most. Something in that dark eye. An air of age and exhaustion that didn't seem to fit how young the man looked.

"How did you know Wesley?"

The other seemed to pause a bit. "I met him while I was still in high school. He--trained a friend of mine."

"Trained?" Daniel frowned.

"Long story, where do you want this it's heavy as hell."

"Uh there's fine." Daniel pointed. "You're from Los Angeles?"

"Sunnydale."

Daniel frowned. That sounded like he should know it...

"Sunnydale that fell in the sinkhole last year."

"Oh," Daniel nodded. "I remember that."

"Mmm."

"What is your name?" Daniel blurted.

"Xander Harris."

"Nice to meet you Xander. You know what's in these?"

"Some snake demon legends involving the Egyptian pyramids. Giles said I'm supposed to help with a couple of the translations because the gibberish to Latin dictionary Wes had was Council Property and all that."

"Council."

"Watcher's Council. It's a historical society."

"My grandfather, Nick, had a couple expiditions funded by them I think."

The younger man snorted. "How the hell did you escape the Old Council if your Grandpa was in it?"

Daniel frowned. "Escape?"

"There were some really bad eggs running the Council for about the last thirty years. Much more into personal profit and their own reputations rather than what the Council was meant to be. Historical preservation... New managment now, been cleaned up. We've got it back the way it should be. But honestly the mob had nothing on some of the crap pulled by a few of those guys."

Daniel blinked. Well, smuggling and black market trade weren't anything all that unusual for the antiquities field..."You're an archaologist?"

The younger man laughed. "I'm a carpenter,"

"Carpenter?"

"Yep."

~*~*~

"Gibberish to Latin?" Daniel frowned

"The language doesn't have a name anyone knows. For the sake of having a name the Council called it A'reth which is I think a garbled version of where the original scrolls were found and the translation key with them back during the Crusades. These are copies, though the copies are 14th century. The originals were lost in a fire during Elizabeth the First's reign. These are the copies Wes' family had had since the 14th century." Xander offered. The originals were a hell of a lot older than the Crusades, and still in existence or Giles would have never let these go, still it was a good enough explanation. The likelyhood of tracking scrolls supposedly discovered during the Crusades was next to nil. The papers could be dated back to 14th century easily enough. The whole story plausible enough. The mention of the Council was a bit risky but screw it.

Wesley had been so very clear he wanted this guy to have the scrolls. Jackson had been laughed out of Academia seven or eight years before because of his theory that the pyramids were older than first thought, that there had been intense crosspollination of cultures in the ancient world and so forth.

Jackson didn't have to know that this was a demon language the scrolls were in. Giles figured Sunnydale Syndrome would cover that, and the fact that Jackson was considered an absolute quack in academic circles, the likelyhood of him going public with Areth writings was slim and Giles had enough that it could be chalked up to a newly discovered Knights Templar code or some nonsense and discredit Jackson if he actually did.

"There is a stipulation on getting the key. Wes wanted to make sure these never went public. Ever."

"Why?"

"A whole unknown language, only found in one place a thousand years ago, no really explainable civilization to trace them too and the originals were thought to be extremely ancient and possibly written on human skin, at least that's what it looks like in the records that survived at the Council's library. And they're pretty friggin nuts demon snakes invading brains and such."

Jackson looked a little green. "No, I won't publish them or anything. I swear."

Xander believed him.

"You know how to read the language?"

Xander nodded.

"Why?"

"The Council adapted it for their record keeping. DIdn't have much a choice." Xander shrugged.

Daniel frowned.

"The last thirty years of dirty dealings easily read? C'mon. The guys were smart crooks."

Daniel nodded.

Xander gave an internal sigh of relief that the lie was bought.

"Do you want a drink?" Daniel offered. "I think I need one."

"Sure."