Having a conscience sucked, Xander decided. Why couldn't he just walk on by, like almost any other person?
He had lit out of Sunnydale right after Graduation on a roadtrip, to see all FIXME states. Xander had had a bit of engine trouble right out of the gate, but asking his Uncle Rory to check the old Chevy first had cleared that up. He'd travelled through about two states so far, and had hit a snag on the third.
He'd found an infestation of the supernatural kind in Bumsville, wherever. It was a fairly forgettable town with a farm store, a small library, a glorified corner store and a fish and chip shop. The church was the largest building in town.
The church was the reason that Xander had stayed in the town for longer than it took him to refuel outside the farm store. He set the pump going once he put in '$20' on the stand, then went inside. Night had just fallen, and after he'd paid for the petrol he was planning on parking by the roadside and sleeping in the back seat.
"Hi, twenty dollars of petrol for the blue Chevy outside?," Xander prompted the man behind the counter.
"Right, nice car," the man said. "Sounds like it runs well, too."
"I got my uncle to check it before I left Sunnydale," Xander explained. "Didn't sound too healthy before that. I got given it by the church vicar back home when they got a new car."
"There's somethin' just ain't right about our new vicar," the shopkeeper complained, while he rung up the bill. "Doesn't set foot outside the door, doesn't come visit us, doesn't shop at my friend Bill's corner shop..."
"Sounds of the weird," Xander agreed. "Here's a twenty for the petrol, and a five for the food."
The shopkeeper laughed out loud at this. "That ain't food, that's sugar water and more sugar!"
"Works for me," Xander said amiably. "Where's the church, anyway?"
"About two blocks that way and to the left," the shopkeeper said. "Big steeple. Can't miss it."
Xander thanked the man, who reminded him of Principal Flutie somewhat, then put the petrol cap back on the car. He pulled away from the farm store, and decided to check out the church. Xander wasn't in any hurry to get where he was going.
"Dammit," Xander muttered under his breath. "I bet it's a vampire. Damn conscience."
Xander stepped through the large double doors. The only light inside the holy building was from the numerous lit candles.
"Hi, is there anyone here?," he said softly.
"The Church welcomes everyone," a voice said. Xander looked up, to find a man in a grey preacher's suit up behind the altar, a hand on the Bible. His face was narrow, and his fangs showed as he smiled.
Xander pulled out his stake from the back of his pants. "Vampire."
"Human," the pretend preacher sneered.
The Sunnydalian strode up to the front, expecting a reasonably hard fight. He'd taken some training in the soft martial arts, and expected to be able to beat the vampire. Most were too confident in their strength to win against someone trained in the Art.
The vampire moved, far more swiftly than he'd ever seen one move back in Sunnydale. It started to lower it's mouth to his struggling body as the double doors opened again. Xander elbowed the pretend preacher as it moved him around to it's front as a human shield. He was held too tightly to do anything else.
"Pathetic. I can't tell you apart from all the trash bags on the sidewalks."
Xander's eyes shot to the back of the church, where a man in a red coat and hat was grinning. He had yellow John Lennon glasses on. Even to Xander's atrophied fashion sense, the clothes screamed 'vampire'.
"I wanna go on record as saying this situation is bad," Xander muttered. "Where's the Slayer when you need her?"
"A dog of the humans like you can't hurt me," the preacher vampire said.
"I serve them for my own reasons," the vamp in the red coat said.
Xander let the pleas of the vamp holding him wash over him. He had no illusions of surviving this encounter.
The vampire in the red coat locked eyes on him as he pulled out a large handgun that resembled a Desert Eagle, somewhat.
'Are you a virgin?'
He could hear the vamp in his head. Giles had never mentioned that.
"What the hell kinda question is that?!," Xander screamed at the man. Here he was, stuck between two vampires, and one of them asks that?!
'Answer me, dammit!'
"Yes... I AM!," Xander roared back. "Hurry up and kill this Angelus wannabe!"
The preacher looked at Xander before the vampire in the red coat fired. The bullet ripped through Xander's chest, expanding as it left his flesh and continued through the heart of the vampire that held him. His mouth was starting to fill with blood, from where he had bit the side of his mouth.
"Unfortunately, the wound is so large you have virtually no chance of surviving," the vampire said. "I had to shoot his heart, so I shot through your liver."
Liver? Xander thought you needed your liver to live. Heh. A pun.
The vampire grinned. "How do you feel about eternity? And not as one of those demonic trash bags, either?"
Xander refused to leave this earth while demons still roamed it.
Once Alucard finished draining the brown haired man, he looked around the church. He felt something wrong, but couldn't put his finger on it.
Ah! There it was! Magic. It had been awhile since he'd seen that pattern.
"Integra will be annoyed," Alucard whispered. A grin crossed his face as he considered how his master would react.
Alucard hated this spell. The only counter he knew of was only good for himself. Hellsing's pet vampire quickly cut his arm, letting blood flow into the brownhaired man's mouth, then escaped the trap that the false preacher had set.
Hellsing's exterminator left the church. Alexander Harris left the era, sent back in time several hundred years.
Integra lit a small, tightly wrapped cigar while she considered what Alucard had told her. The blonde leader of Hellsing looked out the window, eyes roaming anywhere while she thought. Her blue eyes resembled steel more than sky, and her long blonde hair was a result of concentrating on her work rather than a deliberate attempt at long hair. Walter, her servant, kept her dressed impeccably.
"So, this mission that we did for the Americans had... consequences," she muttered.
Alucard grinned at her.
"You turned someone, and then they were shot back in the past a few centuries or so," she continued softly. "What was the name of this person?"
"Alexander Harris," Alucard said. "Also known as Finality after his backward journey."
"Walter, get me our file on Finality," Integra requested. After a minute, the greying man returned. He had a thick manilla folder that he handed to Lord Hellsing.
"Vampire hunter, demon hunter, criminal hunter," Walter summed up. "He never fails to get what he hunts for, hence the name 'Finality'."
"There's a fact that isn't in there," Alucard interrupted. "Your father was good friends with him."
Integra looked up at this. Her father had died when she was a girl, and she respected him highly. "Where is this Finality now?"
Alucard pointed downward, smirking madly. He phased through the floor, then returned carrying a coffin. The vampire handed Walter a sheet of paper that had been inside the coffin
"Lovely," she dryly observed.
"This is a request to send the body to a person in America," Walter said. "Rup--Ripper."
"He was fun," Alucard said.
Giles woke up to someone knocking on his door. He felt around on his nightstand for his glasses, noting the time.
Ten in the morning. Perhaps this was a good time to get up.
He shuffled to the front door in his pajama's to find a courier standing outside.
"Rupert Giles?," the man asked.
The Watcher nodded.
"Got a delivery from Britain for you," the courier said. "Someone called Hellsing sent it. Sign here."
"Lovely," Giles croaked.
He took the stylus proffered and signed his name on the LCD screen on the hand computer used by most modern couriers. The courier picked up a large, heavy box, left it on his doorstep, then left to deliver the rest of his list.
Giles looked at the box. It was about two meters long, by half a meter high, by half a meter wide. There was a plastic envelope stuck on the top, along with the address labelling and a large sticker saying 'Cultural Artifact', and 'Fragile'.
He dragged it inside, muttering about how Slayers were never around when you needed them, then made himself a cup of tea while he looked at the letter placed where most companies put the receipt on the plastic envelope on the outside of the box. The paper the letter was written on was old, and crackled slightly as he touched it.
"Hellsing... Hellsing... Ah! Integra," Giles remembered. Integra Wingates Hellsing was the head of the Twelve Conventions, which was loosely tied to the Watchers' Council. He remembered her as being a tough woman of steel in a green suit.
He sipped his tea and read the letter, which was written in a flowing script
Rupert Giles,
If you are reading this, then you have just taken possession of my immortal remains. Kindly review your knowledge of the type of vampire including Alucard, Helena and others before opening the container.
You may recall that Alexander Harris left on a road trip after Graduation. I was in a small town when I heard of a new minister in town who sounded remarkably like a vampire, so I decided to try and slay it.
Giles took his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He suspected he knew what was coming. He sincerely hoped he was wrong.
I found that the vampire was unbelievably fast, moreso than the vampires we had encountered in Sunnydale. It was about to eat me, when a vampire in a red coat entered the church, shooting through me to kill the vampire holding me.
I was turned, then a trap set by the vampiric minister sent me back in the past several hundred years. Alucard, the vampire who turned me, was only able to prevent himself from being ensnared in the trap.
A friend of mine has pledged to look after my remains until this date, and then send them on to you. Inside the container will be a bag of medical blood; simply puncture it then let it leak on me.
Your friend,
Xander 'Finality' Harris.
Giles' tea cup fell from his slack fingers as he read the last line. Xander Harris was Finality?!
Finality was legendary in some circles, an immortal hunter of demons. Hearing that Finality was in town was enough to make most demons skip town. Finality was rumoured to have helped Van Helsing take down Dracula (which Giles considered most likely if the letter and the source address was to be believed.) The hunter had not been heard from for a decade, and most demons considered Finality to have finally hunted someone bigger than himself.
The Watcher got up and went over to his liquor cabinet, pouring himself a few shots worth of whisky. He'd planned on teaching Buffy self-reliance through not helping her, but perhaps Xander could prod her along. Xander could certainly teach her more about Slaying.
He just wished that the innocent boy had not been thrown into the same pit as the rest of them.
Buffy and Willow found Giles sitting on his favourite armchair in his living room, looking at a black coffin on his coffee table. He had the bottle of whisky he'd opened by him.
"What's the what?," Buffy asked.
Shot glass in hand, Giles gestured at the coffin. "That's... well, you'd better read the letter."
The two girls looked over it. Once they had finished, Buffy marched over to the coffin and opened it up.
"Hey!," Willow said.
"There's a dried up, rotten, corpse in here, Giles, not a baby fresh vampire," Buffy observed.
"That's the way their curse works," Giles said. "It figures that Xander would be cursed, I mean, who stays normal on a Hellmouth?"
"Their? He isn't a normal vampire?," Willow asked, always quick to pick up fine details.
"Well, yes," Giles said. He got up, pouring himself another shot. "The vampires you have seen up until now, including Angel, have been of the Aurelius line of vampires. Xander there was turned by Vlad's line."
"Vlad the Impaler?," Buffy asked.
"Yes," Giles confirmed. "Although it had been speculated within the council that Vlad had existed as a vampire long before he rose to power."
"So," Buffy said. "You raise 'em, I stake 'em?"
Giles turned sharply at this. Some of his whisky slopped onto his hand at the movement. "You will do no such thing. The Vlad vampires have their souls, and Council policy is to leave them alone until they harm the innocent."
"So we tie him up, then do the revive thing," Willow said. "Giles, have you got any ropes or anything?"
It turned out Giles had some cast iron restraints. After some jokes by the two girls, they clamped the leg irons and the wrist irons on the dessicated corpse. Giles picked up the bag of medical blood that had been inside the coffin.
"Uh, should I?," he asked.
"Sure," Willow said. "Because then Buffy would be able to stop him if something goes wrong, because, well, slayer!"
"Right," Giles said. He punctured the bag with a pair of scissors. "Well, here goes."
Giles slowly began pouring the human blood into the corpse's mouth. The effect was almost immediate. The flesh reverted to the appearance of flesh, the eyes reinflated, and all the other details. The hair lightened to white, greying as more blood was poured until it was black.
Except for the hair colour, the person was quite recognisable.
"Xander!," Willow yelled, grabbing the figure and hugging the crap out of him.
"Uh, Hi, Willow," Xander said hesitantly. "Good to see you all... it's been awhile for me."
"It's been three months," Buffy said.
"Couldn't you phone us?," Willow asked.
"You did read the letter, right?," Xander asked. "I've had to live through several hundred years to get back to you guys."
Giles interrupted. "Xander... is this signature correct? Are you Finality?"
The Watcher took his glasses off, cleaning them.
"Yeah," Xander said.
"Uh, for those of us who haven't lived through the last several hundred years," the Slayer said, "what's the deal with this Finality?"
"I kill demons," Xander shrugged. "I also didn't want anyone gunning after my mortal self in the future."
"Finality is a legendary hunter," Giles said. "He is responsible for the final deaths of legions of vampires, and scores of demons. If, uh, a demon hears that Finality is present, that demon immediately skips town, taking all it's relatives with it."
"Speaking of which, that's a real pain," Xander complained. "I hate running after them."
Buffy looked at Xander, mouth wide open and speechless.
"If you keep with that, flies are gonna buzz in," Xander said.
Buffy closed her mouth.
"Xander, I feel that it would be good for Buffy if she could learn something of Slaying under you," Giles said.
"Yeah, what's with this whole ignore the Slayage thing you have going on right now?," Willow asked.
"I, ah, was attempting to teach Buffy something of self reliance," Giles admitted.
"Self reliance sucks," Xander muttered. "Does Angel still hang around here?"
"Ah, no," Giles said. "He left for Los Angeles, to remove the temptation of..."
"Me," Buffy finished.
"Schmuck of a vampire," Xander muttered.
"Hey!," Buffy said. "Angel's helped us a lot."
"I've helped us a lot," Xander complained. "Without me, you'd have about a hundred times more demons to deal with. Besides, he can't summon a familiar, he can't regenerate his legs... I could go on."
"Familiar?," Willow asked. "You know magic?"
"A bit," Xander admitted. "I had some fun with Drac for awhile."
It was then that the telephone chose to ring. Giles answered it.
"Good evening, Rupert Giles speaking."
"Integra! How good to hear from you."
"Oh, well Father doesn't speak to me anymore after... well."
"I thought you did know. Well, Walter and Alucard can inform you."
"Ah, I see. Just one moment."
Giles cupped his hand over the handpiece's microphone, then gestured Xander over to the telephone. On the other end, Integra handed the telephone over to her servant.
"Hi?"
"Nothing's happened so far -- you caught me just rising."
"I thought we cleaned them out."
"Please tell me you're joking. I hate dealing with them."
"Oh. Well, I'll go down there and check it out for you."
"There too? I hope you're gonna fix me up with more supplies after this."
"Good to hear from you again. Are you still going by Alucard?"
Xander took the phone away from his ear as a loud, angry outburst came over the phone. "Yeesh, sorry. One moron and your name's dirt forever..."
"Well. See ya."
Xander hung up the telephone. Giles looked at him expectantly.
"Well? What was that about?"
"Do you know anything about the GGG, or Gegengeist Gruppe?," Xander asked.
"The... Anti-Ghost Army?," Giles translated. "Ah, no. German organisation?"
The old time travelling vampire nodded. "They've found the Letzt Battalion, and are organising an offsensive of some kind. Both are supernatural experiments founded by Hitler."
"Nazi's?," Willow asked. "Um, vampire Nazis?"
Xander nodded.
"Well, I'm stuck on the Hellmouth for now, so I can't help you," Buffy said.
"I would have thought you'd have... eradicated them during the first half of this century," Giles said.
"I thought I did," Xander complained. "They're like cockroaches."
"A few of my contacts would be willing to sell you ammunition," Giles said. "The Council has developed some high explosive bullets."
Xander shook his head. "No, I'll get some holy rounds from Hellsing. I can't let Integra think she can get me to do this for free, and I'll never get her to pay me money."
"Pay?," Buffy asked, eyes narrowing. "There's a thought -- Giles, why doesn't the Council pay me anything?"
"Because they're a pack of British tightarses," Giles said as he cleaned his glasses.
"Amen," Xander muttered. In a louder voice, he continued. "Why do you think Hellsing called me, and not the Council? The Council of Watchers knows they'll have to pay me in bullets or bullion."
"Where is this combine located?," Giles asked.
"South America, as all good cliches are," Xander said. "At least I'll be able to get a tan while I'm there."
He and Willow had a good laugh at this.
"South America? Giles, are you sure that I can't leave the Hellmouth?," Buffy asked.
Xander hated planes.
It wasn't the altitude. He had no problems with airsickness.
It wasn't the sunlight -- at a certain age, he'd found that his kind of vampire could tolerate the sun. After so long in darkness, he did hate it, though.
It was the noise. The constant, incessant, droning noise.
Oh, on these modern planes they had some sound insulation. But the faint hum never went away, as annoying as a faulty fluorescent light.
The inflight movie wasn't even any good. It was some old horror movie, and had a screaming, fainting heroine who was being stalked by a mysterious vampire.
"Stupid moron," Xander complained. "Stop messing around! Jeez, he's as bad as Spike and Angelus."
The person next to him looked up at this. She had carrot-orange hair, was dressed in jeans and a tshirt, and had one blue eye and one red.
"Spike?," she asked. "You've met Mr William the Bloody?"
"The Bloody Awful Poet, you mean?," Xander asked, surprised. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Rayne, B Rayne," the girl said, omitting most of her first name.
"Xander Harris," Xander said. "From time to time, I've been known as Finality."
The girl shrunk back at this. "Don't hurt me! Or I'll hurt you back twice as hard!"
Xander couldn't help but laugh. "Ah, so you're Blood Rayne! I've been hoping to meet you -- it's good to hear of another hunter!"
"Oh, so you're not after me? That makes a nice change," Rayne said dryly. "Are you after the GGG remnant as well?"
"Yeah," Xander said. "Apparently they've formed an alliance with the Letzt Battalion, similar to the GGG but far more militant."
"What are you planning?"
"So far? Sneaking in and taking out their CO's, then working my way from the top down."
"Sounds good. Want some help?"
Buffy groaned. "We get Xander back, then he leaves almost immediately! Do I have some kind of vamp-only BO?"
"No!," Willow reassured her. "Uh, not that I'm a vampire, so I wouldn't know a hundred percent."
A hand burst through the clods of dirt on top of the fresh grave.
"Good! I'm not vamp repellant after all!"
"How about you go in and take care of the GGG officers," Xander began, "and I take care of the Letzt Battalion officers?"
Rayne looked up from sharpening one of her blades. "Sure. What weapons are you planning on using?"
Xander pulled out a .454 handgun, about thirty centimeters long. "The bullets are made from Hellsing's stock."
"Lancaster?," the slim half-vampiress asked. She was dressed in her silk and leather workclothes that hid the blood so well.
"Yeah," Xander affirmed. The .454 ammunition was made by Hellsing's gunsmith, and the bullets were made of one of Lancaster Cathedral's melted down crosses.
"Please tell me you're going to get changed before you go in," Rayne moaned. "You can not be thinking of going against Nazi vampires in a Hawaiian shirt and jeans."
"What?," Xander asked. "I've been waiting hundreds of years to get these shirts!"
"Your fashion sense must have died with you," Rayne muttered.
"Hey!"
"Hawaiian shirts went out in the eighties," Rayne complained.
"No one's perfect," Xander shrugged. "You want to catch a movie after this, then socially humiliate me as we break up after a torrid affair?"
The red headed half-vampiress laughed out loud at this. "Sure. We'll see how we go about the break up, depending on you."
Xander poked his head through a ceiling. Like his Sire, he had the ability to dematerialise. He had enjoyed using it to spy on girls, until they saw his face sticking out of a wall and hit him later, when he wasn't dematerialised. At the moment, he was looking at an immense underground zeppelin hangar in South America.
"Ooooooh boy," he muttered. "We're gonna need a bigger boat."
He was looking at a thousand vampires, all clad in varying uniforms, all with the swastika around their arms. They were saluting three figures walking down from a zeppelin.
He took a closer look at the three figures. The one on the left was bodyguard material, and had a trenchcoat and hat on. A long gun was attached to his belt. The one on the right could only be a doctor of some sort, with a bloodstained lab coat on. The doctor had glasses with numerous movable lenses on, and a frown at all times.
The middle figure was short and fat, with glasses and a tan suit on. He was the obvious leader, waving regally to the troops as he walked down from the zeppelin, the other two following him.
A kid with... wolves ears? ran up to the fat man. Xander listened intently. The werewolf bragged about how the werewolves would have done a better job than... Tubalcain? Xander had never heard of Tubalcain.
Seven figures appeared out of the murky gloom at the south entrance to the hanger, three in wheelchairs, all old. The short, fat man with glasses clicked his heels together then saluted them in the Nazi fashion.
"Zeik Heil! Special duty, Generalissimo's Secret #666 complete, I have returned!"
Xander laughed to himself as the lead guy started argueing with the short man, eventually striking him and kicking him to the ground. Hopefully they'd all start fighting. Why couldn't more enemies infight like this?
He groaned as the man in the fancy uniform stopped, as another group shot his baton. This new group looked like trouble.
Xander ignored them, until the short, fat major announced his intentions.
"My purpose? Hehe, a purpose, eh, Colonel? To be able to taste the joy of war forever! For the next war, and the war after that."
"You're mad," Xander shouted, unable to stop himself. More than a thousand Nazi's heads shot up.
"Ah, can you forget I was here?," Xander asked weakly. "There's a twinkie in it for... ah, crap."
Xander did not like this situation. Close on a thousand Nazi vampires close on his heels... yes, this really wasn't his cup of tea, to borrow an expression from the G-man.
Time to make a stand, he thought as he pulled ahead slightly.
He turned, and summoned his familiar, commanding it to defend him. Xander relaxed his control, allowing his power to flow as he distorted the light around him. Screams of panic could be heard from the Nazi's, as they lost all sense of direction and position. One of the braver ones got relatively close to Xander, before an immense black jaguar with dark red eyes leapt upon it, dismembering the would-be assailant with ease.
Xander paused a moment, taking in the scene. While the vampire soldiers closer to him were reforming their ranks, due to their trained discipline, the ones further away were only getting more confused as the tail end of the chase started piling into the edges of his illusions. Time to make sure that they didn't get a chance to take advantage of their numbers, in Xander's opinion. Having a huge advantage over your enemy was the only way to fight, as far as he was concerned.
He started laughing as he discovered that these new vampires were just as vulnerable to beheading as the old models. He swept his right hand through another vampire's neck, brute force working to make up for lack of sharpness.
Rayne was having an easier time of it. The Gegengeist Gruppe had never committed itself to the same type of mass production that the Letzt Battalion had, preferring instead to research towards a goal of perfection. She was killing the lead researchers and scientists, this time, as well as the lieutenants and higher ranking officers. This time, she wouldn't make the mistake of leaving enough for the GGG to rebuild itself.
To be honest, she was also having an easier time of it due to being more visually distracting than Xander. Most men are more eager to leer at busty women in tight, scanty black leather and red silk, than kill them.
"Schnell! Schnell macht schnell!," she heard an officer command, followed by the sound of many people running.
"That's never a good sign," Blood Rayne muttered, looking up just as the tunnel began to cave in at one end as the charges the GGG had set began to go off.
Xander grinned widely, fangs showing.
He'd managed to trap the remainder of the vampire Nazi infantry in an underground zeppelin hangar, then had opened the ceiling doors. Instant crispy critters ala vampire flambe.
He was lucky that he'd found the control room for that hangar.
The sounds of clapping began as the door to the room opened.
"Most impressive," the short fat man said, scowling behind his steelframed glasses. "However, I cannot let you continue like this."
He snapped his fingers, and his bodyguard shot Xander with that peculiar revolver with the unnaturally long barrel.
Xander collapsed against the console, a flower of blood blooming on his blue and orange Hawaiian shirt. His fingers dipped themselves in the wound, then he brought them up to the light.
"That's it?," Xander asked incredulously. He could feel the mincemeat his organs had been turned into healing already. "No holy silver... no high explosive... that's it?!"
The head of the bodyguard disappeared into a mist of blood, as a machinegun roared from the doorway to the large control room. Rayne stepped over the cloud of dust the bodyguard turned into, due to the sudden decapitation.
"Why can't I encounter more Nazi's like Simon and Sigmund?," she asked plaintively. "Charming, handsome, and completely incompetant at fighting?"
"I guess you'll just have to live with that," Xander said. "I just get dumb arses, no hot chicks for me."
"I will not die like this!," the short, fat man yelled. "I will live for a thousand years of WAR! KRIEG! KRIEG! KRI--"
Xander's mouth hung open as Rayne decapitated the ranting Nazi commander with one of her long blades. "Wow..."
Rayne shrugged as she pulled out a rag and began wiping blood off her two blades. "It's a living. Looting time?"
"What do you think of demons?," Xander asked carefully.
"Hate 'em," Rayne shuddered.
"I think I'm in love," Xander said dreamily.
Rayne laughed. "You're only getting that date if you promise to let me pick your shirt."
Xander looked down at his shirt. "But... it's Hawaiian! Shirts like this were on Magnum PI, the works! They're cool!"
The redheaded vampiress sighed as she tucked the cleaning rag into her clothes, leading Xander out of the room. "Not anymore... let me instruct you in a little thing called changing fashions."
"But I like them!"
<<"Wish", Nine Inch Nails, Broken>>
Rayne turned to look at her partner calmly.
"Why are we in here?"
She gestured around. The pale half-vampiress was lounging on Xander in a German club of some sort. Heavy metal was playing so loud that Xander could swear he felt his eyeballs shaking in time to the bass beat. Half-naked dancers were gyrating in cages above the club-goers.
"I've got a contact I need to meet here," Xander calmly replied. "Millenium should not have gotten in under the radar like that. Hopefully, Robert has an explanation."
Rayne leant back, frowning. "This place is..."
Xander nodded. "I've told Siggy that you're mine."
"I'm yours?," Rayne asked, a dangerous glint in her red and blue eyes.
"For the time being," Xander nodded. "Think of it as the payoff for getting to choose my shirt."
"Those Hawaiian shirts were hideous," Rayne said calmly. "You owe me for burning those."
Xander rolled his eyes.
"I wonder who the innocents are," Rayne said, curiousity tinging her words.
"Innocents?," Xander asked.
"At the door."
He straightened up, looking towards the dingy door. A redhead of medium height, and a short blonde, accompanied by a greying man in tweed.
"This is not good," Xander muttered. "This is about as good as Little Bo Peep walking into Mr Lecter's house."
Rayne sighed.
Xander waved at the doorman, who sent the trio to him.
<<"Mein Teil", Rammstein, Reise Reise>>
"X-Xander!," Giles sputtered. "Why are you in a place like this?!"
"Sit, G-man," Xander said, frowning. "Buff, Will, you two too. Now."
[Suche gut gebauten Achtzehn- bis Dreißigjährigen zum Schlachten Der Metzgermeister]
Rayne sat back to watch.
"Why are you here?," Xander asked, angry.
"We wanted to see you," Willow said in a small voice.
"This is a bad place for it," Xander said, leaning back. "Remember that club your friend Ford set up, Buffy? The Sunset Club?"
The Slayer nodded.
"Imagine another one where the clubgoers are a thousand times scarier."
"It can't be that bad," Buffy protested.
[Heute treff ich einen Herrn
Der hat mich zum Fressen gern
Weiche Teile und auch harte
stehen auf der Speisekarte]
"G-man, you know any German at all?," Xander asked casually.
Giles nodded slowly.
"Have a listen to this song," Xander invited.
The Watcher nodded again.
[Denn du bist
was du isst
und ihr wisst
was es ist]
[Es ist mein Teil - nein
Mein Teil - nein
Denn das ist mein Teil - nein
Mein Teil - nein]
"Why can't we--," Buffy began to complain, before Xander cut her off with a glare.
[Die stumpfe Klinge - gut und recht
Ich blute stark und mir ist schlecht
Muss ich auch mit der Ohnmacht kämpfen
ich esse weiter unter Krämpfen]
Xander stood up. "That should be enough. Buffy, Willow, Giles, follow me. Do not stay here."
The Englishman, now pale, followed Xander wordlessly. The two Californian girls followed behind, while Rayne took up the rear. The crowd parted before Xander, obviously aware of who he was.
Once they were outside, Xander stopped as the doorman shut the door behind Rayne.
"Where did you park?," Xander asked.
"Close by," Giles replied.
"Let's go," Xander said, and refused to speak anymore.
Once they reached the hotel that the three were staying at, Buffy exploded at Xander.
"How dare you make me shut up like that!," she began, starting to wind up into a fine rant.
Xander turned a hard look on her. "G-man, tell her what that song was about."
"I'd... ah, rather not," Giles said.
"What was it about?," Buffy demanded.
"Let's just say that humanity inspires even the worst of demons at times, and leave it at that," Xander said roughly. He threw himself on the sofa, head in his hands. "God! It's bad enough I've been dragged down into this, you girls shouldn't... shouldn't have to deal with si--stuff like that."
"I'm the Slayer, it's my job to deal with this stuff," Buffy protested.
Willow was still pale. She knew some German from doing research for Giles, and also from her grandparents who had lived there prior to the Great War. "Buffy... just... just leave it to Xander, okay?"
Xander looked up at the two girls. Rayne leant against the wall, spiked heels digging into the carpet.
"I don't think that that's a good idea, but if Giles and Willow do...," Buffy said slowly.
"Can you tell us anything about your mission?," Giles asked.
Xander nodded. "Nazi remnants, both based in South America. Rayne here and I took care of them."
"Are there any problems the Watcher's Council should be aware of?," Giles asked. "We do have several clean up teams, if necessary."
"No... this time we made sure they can't rebuild," Rayne spoke up.
"I don't believe we've been introduced," Giles said politely.
"Okay, Giles, girls, this is Blood Rayne," Xander said, gesturing at the leather and silk clad redheaded half-vampiress. He then gestured at his Sunnydale friends. "Rayne, this is G-man, Willow, and Buffy. She's the Slayer."
One of Giles eyebrows went up. "You're Miss Rayne? Your reputation precedes you."
"So does your Slayer's," Rayne returned.
"Time out," Buffy said imperiously, holding her hands up in a 'T'. "Who the hell are you? Giles?"
Giles sighed, taking off his glasses and cleaning them. "Miss Rayne has worked as a vampire exterminator and troubleshooter for the Council and it's affiliates for a very long time, Buffy."
Xander yawned, lying down on the sofa. "And she's mine."
"I thought we went over this," Rayne said, stalking over to the sofa. "I don't belong to you, you belong to me."
One of Xander's legs hanging off the sofa's cushions swung around abruptly, hitting Rayne's ankles. As she started to fall to the floor, he caught her and sat her on top of him. "Why not both?"
"Xander!," Willow said.
"What?," Xander asked. "Sorry, Wills, but no threesomes."
"That... that... that's not what I meant!," Willow frowned.
"Might I ask as to why you were in that... club?," Giles asked, putting his glasses back on.
"We were waiting to meet someone," Rayne scowled from where Xander was holding her on the sofa. "Now we have to arrange that all over again."
"Was it with respect to how those remnants managed to survive?," Giles asked.
"They're like cockroaches," Xander complained. "Giant, mutant, green glowing cockroaches."
"So... Nazi vampires dust, and the human Nazi assholes in the slammer now?," Buffy asked.
"Well... they would be if they'd lived that long," Xander grinned.
"I can't believe you killed them!," Willow gasped, coming to a conclusion.
"Oh yeah, I can see that," Rayne smirked. "Mister Judge, this guy in the wheelchair is an evil Nazi. Yes, he's ancient, and no, I don't have any proof, but he really, really is."
"You could have tried," Willow said stubbornly.
"We'll just have to agree to disagree," Xander said sadly. "Why were you all looking for me, anyway?"
Buffy and Willow remained silent.
Giles sighed. "We... seem to have encountered a slight problem."
"Define problem," Xander said. "Are we talking Krakatoa, Titanic, flood, fire, or Cordelia breaking a nail?"
"Dracula himself has set up shop in Sunnydale, and Buffy has found herself unable to Slay him."
"Oh, for cryin' out loud!," Xander said, exasperated. "Don't tell me she's in love with him, too!"
"I am not!," Buffy said defensively. "He just keeps turning into mist!"
Xander settled back on the couch, breathing out. He didn't bother to breath back in as he thought, Rayne settling down on top of him. "Can't be Dracula."
"Why not?," Willow said.
"'Cause I know Drac, and he's in Britain being ordered around by a blonde of his own."
"YOU KNOW DRACULA?!," Buffy shrieked.
Both Xander and Rayne winced, and Rayne rubbed an ear. "I think they didn't quite hear you in China."
"Really, Xander," Giles said disapprovingly.
"Just drop it," Xander growled. "I'll ring him now. Someone pass me the phone?"
He dialed a long distance number as Willow passed him the cordless telephone, then waited for someone to pick up.
"Hi, Walter. I sorted out that problem we had in South America."
"No, no problems. A lovely lady by the name of Rayne even joined me."
"So I found. Hey, can I talk to Alucard at all?"
"Hey, Ally. Listen, I've got the Slayer here and she claims that someone called Dracula is terrorising the Hellmouth."
"Spike claims that Dracula owes him money," Willow put in. Xander repeated that to the phone.
Xander winced as a loud, angry voice came through the phone.
"Ow! Get with the anger management! I take it that you're gonna sort him out yourself?"
"Coolies. Hey, how's your new fledge going?"
"Oooo, ouch. Never, never introduce her to the Brood Machine."
"Yeah, Angelus. He lives in Los Angeles these days -- I'll introduce him to you, then we can go out and play darts."
"Nah, I was thinking ten points for the limbs, twenty for the torso, thirty for the head, and fifty for the groinal area."
"Okay, see ya."
As Xander hung up, he noticed Buffy and Willow giving him death glares, Giles looking resigned, and Rayne looking highly amused.
"Did you just invite Dracula to SUNNYDALE?!," Buffy screeched.
"No, he invited himself," Xander protested.
"And what was that comment about Angel?," Willow asked icily. He shouldn't make fun of Buffy's pain and denied love like that!
"Er... me and Drac are gonna take him out on the town?," Xander tried. He couldn't believe this -- several hundred years old, but he couldn't bring himself to make the two girls shut up.
"Can I go too?," Rayne asked.
"I guess," Xander said. "Why?"
"I owe Dear Angelus's grandchilde a bullet to the brain," Rayne growled. "No one feels me up like that."
Giles and Xander winced in unison. Hell had no fury like a woman used.