Blind Date

Author: Cyclone <cyclone[at]>

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.  Plus, archived at or

Rating: I'm gonna go say PG.

Spoilers: Up to Chosen and somewhere in season seven of the other one.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: Two people with very dangerous secrets go on a blind date.

Author's Note: Okay, this particular 'ship's been battering itself around in my head for a long time now.

Chapter 1

"Why don't you just give it up, huh?"

"C'mon, Xander, give her a chance. My sister loves a guy with a sense of humor like yours. She's smart, pretty, tough... you'll like her."

Xander turned and shot a baleful eye at his colleague, "Mark, do the words 'snake oil salesman' mean anything to you? 'Cause that's what you sound like. Okay, let's for a moment say I'm interested -- which I'm not -- but if your sister's such a great catch, why does she need you to set her up?"

"'Cause the last few guys she dated are all dead," Mark blurted out. His eyes widened, "Ahh, forget I said that."

Xander raised an eyebrow at that and chuckled, "Really? Sounds like my kinda woman after all."

Mark shot him a curious but hopeful look, "So you'll do it?"

"One date," Xander said, holding up a finger. "That's all I'm promising. What does your sister do for a living, anyway?"

"She's in the Air Force, working with Dad on some deep space radar telemetry project at NORAD."


"Hi," he said hesitantly.

"Hi," she replied, feeling just as nervous.

*Okay,* she thought, *he's cute. Gotta give Mark credit for that. A bit young, though. I wonder what happened to his eye?*

There was something about him...

"Ah, Samantha, right?"

"Oh!" Samantha Carter suddenly blushed, embarrassed at being caught daydreaming. "Um, please. Call me Sam."

"As long as you call me Xander," he replied with a grin. *Hmm,* he thought, *cute, a little flustered, but there's brains behind those eyes... and something else.*

Something he found himself drawn to.

This was certainly going to be an interesting date.

"Ah, before we leave, I-I should warn you."

Xander blinked, his face reddening as he realized that he'd been staring while he was lost in thought.

"About what?"

"The last few guys I dated had a bad habit of dying."

Xander grinned, "I think I'll take my chances. The last few women I dated had a bad habit of trying to kill me, and I'm still here."

"Oh, really?" she smirked. "Any particular reason?"

The carpenter made a show of looking thoughtful, "I dunno. Maybe they didn't appreciate my sense of humor?"

Sam laughed, "Well, I don't think we have to worry about that."


Sam couldn't stop laughing, "Oh, my God! She actually fell for that!"

"Yup," Xander was laughing just as hard. "Around her, the term 'air head' takes on a whole new meaning."

Shaking her head, Sam giggled. She was feeling a little light-headed. Perhaps she shouldn't have had that last drink.

"Xander, is it just my imagination, or do you know a lot of women?"

"What can I say?" Xander shot back. "I'm a girl-magnet. I can't help it that I'm so irresistable."

Sam smacked him half-heartedly, and the two of them stumbled and clung to each other for support. They were giggling like a pair of madmen as they staggered down the street.

"Mmm..." Sam sighed as she leaned into him. This was... nice. Very... nice.

Xander wasn't much more sober than she was. Luckily, it was only a short walk to his apartment. The functioning part of his brain was divided between trying to remember how to unfold the sofa-bed and praying that they didn't get jumped by vampires or something else demonic.


Xander rolled over onto his back and blinked sleepily. He yawned and froze.

*Wait one*, he thought in confusion as he sat up. *Why am I naked?*

It was that moment that the answer to that question entered from the living room, carrying a steaming coffee mug and wearing one of his oversized shirts... and not much -- if anything -- else.

They looked at each other for a long moment.

"Morning," Sam said awkwardly.

"Ah, morning," he replied, just as awkwardly.

"Coffee?" she offered, tilting her head to the living room. "I, uh, took the liberty of brewing a pot. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, no. No, I-I don't mind at all. Um, that'd be great," he stuttered as he started to get up, then stopped. The blanket was all that hid his... assets.

After a moment, she said, "I'll... I'll pour you a cup. Cream? Sugar?"

"Double cream, triple sugar," he replied. "Thanks."

"No problem," she said, stepping out and closing the door behind her.

Xander sighed, "Oh, boy."


They sat there in silence, holding their respective mugs of coffee -- hers, black; his, the aforementioned double cream, triple sugar -- as a shield as they slowly sipped their way to the inevitable.

Sam studied the man across from her. She wasn't as good a judge of character as Jack or Daniel -- the colonel's mild sense of paranoia certainly stacked the odds in his favor for calling out the bad guys, and Daniel's refusal to turn a blind eye let him see things the rest didn't... assuming he wasn't addicted to something at the time -- but she thought she was better than most.

And every assessment she made indicated that Xander was just as uncomfortable about this as she was. And genuinely remorseful too.

*I guess chivalry isn't dead on this planet after all.*

Finally, Xander broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," he said. "This is all my fault. I should have stayed sober. Lord knows, alcohol and my family don't go well together."

Sam's eyebrows shot up at that unusual pronouncement.

"Your fault?" she teased, flashing him an impish grin. "Then I guess I should thank you."

Xander stammered wordlessly, his ears turning red. She put down her coffee mug and reached over to take his hands into hers. "I'm not mad, Xander. I mean, yeah, I do feel a little..." she paused, searching for the right words.

"Freaked out?" he supplied.

"That about sums it up, yeah," she nodded, "but... I don't regret what we did last night. Do you?"

Xander looked in her eyes and saw a blunt honesty that -- frankly -- scared him. Finally, he shook his head.

"No. I don't."

"I'm glad."


Author's Postscript:

Before you go off trying to figure out what story Xander told, it is not a reference to any event in canon (that I know of, anyway). Just assume Xander was talking about an amusing but utterly non-supernatural event involving Harmony or some other Cordette.

Yes, there will be a sequel. I hope.

The End