"We can help one another to find out the meaning of life, no doubt. But in the last analysis the individual person is responsible for living his own life and for "finding himself." Others can give you a name or a number, but they can never tell you who you really are. That is something you yourself can only discover from within."
- Thomas Merton
Angela thought the evening had gone easily thus far. She was looking for a mark, an easy target, in a bar she liked to frequent. She normally preferred hunting on the east side of town, the industrial side. Her sire and some of her smarter brethren had noticed that neither of the slayers nor the traitor tended to patrol this area much. They only broke the barrier when something went down, something obvious, or when occasionally trolling for info.
Therefore, she thought she was in for a very good night. She was simply sitting there, nursing her drink, when he walked over. He looked young, dressed casually in dark clothes, like he was still a high school kid, just misplaced. She was about to dismiss him; a teen "lost" on this side of town may prove to be more trouble than it would be worth when more anonymous catches could be found. Then, she really looked at him. There was something about him. He spoke, said something almost innocent, but she could almost feel the cool edge under it. It intrigued her. *Who are you.*
It was not the first time someone tried to pick her up tonight. Looking the way she did, like the blonde runway model she had been before she was turned, it was often her most useful weapon. Especially when wearing something tight like she was this evening. However, that was when she was hungry. This man, no longer a kid in her mind, may be worth more than a simple meal. This accidental meeting could turn into something else. They started talking, but it was not the words of the mating ritual that were important to her. Instead, it was the way he spoke, the subtext, what he did not say, the body language. He was mysterious, but under that smoky exterior, was an undertone of danger that she found both arousing and intoxicating.
She invited him for a nightcap at her place, which, of course, he accepted. Ordinarily, she would have just led her prey to a back alley and simply drained him or her. Sometimes, she made out with them first, letting her lust and the demon rise in concert, working herself into an absolute frenzy before feeding. Nevertheless, she was not going to do that to this one. No, he was special. She would take him back to the apartment she shared with her sire and convince him to turn him. It might take some doing, but she was his little girl, she had him wrapped around her little finger. He would give in, and she would get a new playmate, a very powerful one at that. She smiled to herself.
She led him to her building; as she approached the steps, she could feel her sire was home. He seemed quite satisfied, or perhaps the better word was sated, as if he just recently fed. *Good,* she thought. He was easier to handle when he was full, she had noticed. She took a glance back at her new friend, he did not seem to notice anything amiss, and he still had the sexy, enigmatic smirk on his face, like he knew a secret, something she was not privy to yet. She grinned, almost dizzy with anticipation. She had a secret too, and she was looking forward to sharing it.
She opened the door and let them both in. Tomas was standing in the living room, wearing his long robe and silk pajama pants, looking at her curiously but saying nothing yet. She was right, he had just been feeding, and she could see that cat-ate-the-canary grin he always wore when he was extremely satisfied with himself trying to peek out. She wondered if she would have to dispose of the body again. *Was it her turn to do the dishes?* She sighed internally, trying to remember, and then disregarded the errant thought. What was about to happen was much more important.
She introduced them to one another; her sire's eyebrow twitched slightly when she referred to him as her older brother. She looked back at her new friend; he did not seem to notice. They shook hands briefly, before her sire excused them both under the pretense of needing to speak with his sister; he requested her guest to make himself at home and gestured toward the kitchen. Her guest nodded his thanks and walked toward the fridge. They kept nothing supernaturally or criminally incriminating in the public areas of the house, for just this type of situation.
They walked into the bedroom; she geared herself to argue the case. They spoke in low murmurs and whispers, to avoid being overheard. He knew what she wanted; he always seemed to know, even before she did sometimes. He had noticed her guest's aura, by now it was almost tangible. It concerned him; she dismissed it, appealing to his pride at having such a dangerous ally in his stable. She used his dreams of being master of the Hellmouth against him, pointing out that with lieutenants like her new friend, who could stand in their way? He was not completely convinced, so she pulled out her big guns. Her lower lip dropped a touch, her eyes widened; at the same time, she eased her cleavage toward him. His eyes dropped for a moment, involuntarily. She held in her own canary-eating smile. *Checkmate,* she thought.
They rejoined their soon-to-be childe in the living room; he was sitting on the couch nursing a Corona. Emboldened by her recent success, she sat down next to him, after getting two beers for her sire and herself, placing a hand on his thigh. His eyes darted to her sire for a moment before gleaming in hidden amusement. *I really do like him.* The three of them made small talk, her "brother," subtly interrogating her sister's intended. She thought it was cute, she played her part to the hilt, getting offended and embarrassed at the right parts. All throughout, her guest never was rattled, he just stayed cool, making her sire laugh with the quirky sense of humor he had. She could see her sire was impressed, she grinned, it was never easy to impress him, but this young man had done so with ease. She caught her sire's eye for a brief moment; he nodded slightly, so quickly that if you blinked you missed it. It was time.
"Welcome to the family, Alex." Tomas said, standing up to excuse himself.
Alex stilled for a moment. He cocked his head at Tomas briefly before that mysterious smirk of his became a full-blown wolf's grin. Tomas could see his childe's excitement, feeling both her demonic and human nature began to rise heatedly through his bond with her. Tomas flashed a smile, one she matched easily.
"Thanks," Alex said casually, pausing; he reached for his corona again. He took a deep swig, almost finishing the rest of the bottle. He turned to look at Angela again, that smirk playing on his lips. He began to lean in slow, she matching his motion. Their lips touched briefly, she could feel his heat, and it almost burned her.
Tomas grinned. He could feel her arousal; she was practically swimming. Her hands started rubbing Alex's chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat. She grabbed him tight, pulling him close. As Tomas turned to leave, he could hear them kissing with real passion.
"Won't be long now," he smirked. He was already plotting exactly how and where he would use his new childe. He could see the end of the rainbow, when he and his family would rule the Hellmouth. His name would be legend, like the Scourge of Europe, whispered with envy and fear everywhere demons and their ilk congregated. He laughed, it was a totally cliché, megalomaniac, B-movie villain type of laugh, but he did not care. Everything was going his way, and nothing could stop them.
That is when he heard her moans change to screams.
That is when everything changed.
As he heard Tomas, laughing at his "victory" in the background, he held her tighter, closer, opening his mouth fully to close around her cold lips. He could hear her muffled moans changed to screams as the holy water he held in his mouth poured down her waiting throat. She thrashed, her game face blazing, but he maintained his grip, ensuring he did not spill a drop. He released her then, her face showing both the debilitating pain she was in as well her shock at his "betrayal." She fell back to the couch, still gurgling, before rolling to the floor, crawling weakly away, practically seizing, while clutching at her ruined mouth and throat. He noted Tomas had turned around rapidly after hearing his childe's painful gurgled screams, staring at the scene in stunned silence. He almost laughed at the expression on his face as he grabbed the near-empty bottle by the neck in his right hand, rising to his feet and stepping away from the couch into the open.
Tomas' face changed quickly to rage as he vamped out; he charged at him, arms outstretched, hands curled into claws. He stood his ground; at the last moment, he sidestepped left and half-pivoted, using his empty hand to guide Tomas' reach off-target. At the same time, he reverse-whipped the bottle through the air, shattering it against the side of his opponent's head. The remnants of the holy water/Corona cocktail burned into the vampire's skull, mixing with the bloody cuts from the broken glass. Tomas screamed himself now, grabbing his aching head. It was music to him.
He spun his grip on the bottleneck and whipped his arm backward, jamming the still-coated sharp edges into Tomas' unguarded crotch, leaving it buried in flesh. He winced sympathetically for a moment as Tomas screamed from the depths of his demon. Tomas fell to the floor hard, twitching on his side, grabbing at himself. He smiled at the pretend-master vamp, now mewling like a helpless kitten. Reaching into the small of his back, he pulled the stake he had hidden there. He finished him quickly and decisively, before glancing again at Angela, who managed to crawl to the wall near the door. She stared at him, her demonic face showing an equal mixture of pain, shock and blatant fear. He grinned.
Angela pressed herself closer to the wall, unwilling to believe something so beautiful had ended in such painful tragedy. Her master was simply dust on the carpet after being brutally destroyed by this boy before her. Her insides felt like she had eaten fire, the alcohol residue mixed in only exaggerated it. She was scared now, more scared than she ever remembered, paralyzed by it.
She could see him smiling that wolfish grin at her as he walked closer in measured steps, taking his time. He was stalking her, letting the moment drag. *Like I don't matter,* she thought angrily. Her anger was quickly buried beneath her rising fear, hopeless tears building behind her eyes. She was helpless, too weak, too afraid to move, her unnatural strength drained away from the pure turmoil and shock. Her eyes darted desperately around her; there was nothing that could be used as a weapon in reach. She whimpered, crying unabashedly now, blood tears crawling down her face. She wanted to beg, to plead, but her incinerated mouth could not even form the words. It would not matter, she knew, the cold look in his eyes as he stopped a few feet away told her that.
He could see her stark terror as he crouched before her, the confident huntress reduced to a quivering mess. He saw her humiliation, looking into her crying eyes. He felt so angry when he saw her. He had known what she was, the last two years, and this summer especially, giving him almost a sixth sense. However, it was who she was, or whom she reminded him of, to be more exact, that made him want to drag this out, to make her suffer longer. He stared at her face coldly, memorizing its features. She could have been a twin, he noted.
His eyes blazed now, fueled by a barely-contained anger. Her face was so like that other face, the one that haunted his dreams for all these years, and the one that enticed his best friend, his brother in all but blood, away from him and into the darkness. The face that betrayed his brother, perverted him, corrupted him. He could only put his brother's soul to rest by murdering him, making his failure to protect him come full circle, complete.
He stood quickly before lashing out, his boots stomping and kicking her. He could feel her trying to protect herself, to no avail; his rage gave him a hellish strength that could have matched hers even if she were healthy, it was no contest. He smashed her face and body, he could hear bones breaking. A hideous, crazed giggle was bubbling up, from something on a leash buried deep in his mind. He stopped suddenly, stepping back, chest heaving. He heard the giggle receding back into memory. The face he stared at before was now a beaten pulp. She sagged down the wall, collapsing bloodily flat on her back, not moving, eyes glazed, swelling up.
He watched her for a moment, feeling most of his fury drain away. Finish this, a voice from within said with quiet authority. He crouched down again, stake still in hand from killing Tomas. He looked at the stake, and stared at his beaten enemy.
Angela laid there, somewhere between worlds. She knew she was about to die, again, and she was still unable to believe her misfortune. Any slight hope left for survival had left the building. She could feel her ribs swimming, fangs rattling like the Chiclets she loved when she had been mortal. All she wanted to do was lay still. She was in so much pain that she could not feel it anymore; it was a contradiction, yet completely true.
The only thought she had left was "How?" He was a human, a very dangerous one obviously, but still just a human. Wincing, she dropped her game face, choosing to face death without her demon. She could feel his eyes on her somehow; he was just watching her lay there. Even Tomas had not been this methodical. She hoped there would not be any more torture; if she were lucky, he would make it quick.
She heard him take a deep breath; he had come to a sort of resolution. He began to move toward her. Her prayers were answered as she felt the wood penetrating her heart.
"For Jesse," he said as he plunged the stake into Angela's heart. He watched as her body crumbled to dust. He shuddered briefly, dutifully returning the Soldier to its corner of his psyche, as he'd been taught. The downside was that while doing that, remnants of the Hyena Alpha surfaced too, though he could reluctantly admit that it was useful tonight.
He needed tonight, he realized. The gang had been trying to force him to the sidelines lately. Tonight reminded him of the real focus of his mission. His purpose in getting involved was never just about helping Buffy, or the Scoobies, or his new "friends," for that matter. Nor was tonight about him simply trying to prove he could out of spite; even though he could admit it was a factor.
Instead, the reason was something simple that had existed all along, just waiting to be understood. He'd never put it into words before. He wondered if it was a test or a sign that tonight would feature a Darla look-alike just when he was feeling somewhat lost. He shrugged; either way he passed and was not planning to stop hunting any time soon. He smiled, shaking his head as he stood.
He stood solemnly in a grove. The grove was on the top of a hill that looked out beyond Sunnydale to the Pacific in the distance on a clear day. He could remember often watching Jesse stare into the distance; Jesse used to say that it made him feel bigger than everything and yet smaller at the same time. They used to sit there for hours, just the two of them, talking, running away from things. He sighed, glancing down to read the plaque he bought to go under their tree.
Jesse L. McNally,
A true friend and brother,
You will always be remembered.
He stared at the last line, unsuccessfully fighting back his tears. Willow had almost never mentioned Jesse, like he was an afterthought, easily forgotten. It was the first time he himself had truly mourned Jesse properly. He'd always felt too guilty before, especially when he'd visit the McNallys before they moved away. He could never meet their eyes, too busy seeing the image of the stake entering Jesse's heart, dusting him, killing him, over and over again. The nightmares were always extra-vivid after that.
He did not want anyone else to go through what he'd been through. No one should have to lose a friend to the night, no one should have to kill their brother. And if he had anything to say about it, no one else would. He knew it was a fool's errand, like swimming toward the horizon. You know you'll never quite reach it, but sometimes what's important is that you try. His uncle used to say that sometimes accepting one is on a journey could be half the trip itself.
He straightened, looking toward the heavens, subconsciously looking for his friend. In a way, he could almost feel Jesse looking down at him. He smiled briefly, letting his tears fall, before his face became deadly serious.
"Remembered and avenged." Without a second glance, Xander turned toward home, to prepare for the night ahead.
"Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed, maybe they are just meant to run free until they find someone to run with them."
- Carrie Bradshaw
She was bored, looking at the falling dust that was once an opponent. Wiping off any particles that may have clung to her with a forceful shrug, she glanced over her shoulder for any more stragglers before continuing her patrol. B and her lover were searching out a nest of demons on the other side of town, leaving her to handle the 'Dale's 101 graveyards solo. It wasn't that she minded the duty, it was the way it was given to her that rankled. Once again, Jeeves gave her the table scraps that Queen Buffy deemed unworthy of her own precious self. As usual, she was the afterthought.
She did not mind the solitude that much; after the way she was raised, it could almost be considered a blessing. She used to enjoy any alone time she could find; she didn't subscribe to the idea of safety in numbers, only feeling safe by herself. That was before she knew what she was missing, before she knew what she could have. Her thoughts wandered back to when she was first called as a Slayer, to her Watcher, Linda, the only woman she could call mom, if only in her thoughts.
She came to Sunnydale, hoping to find a little of what she had lost. She did find it, but it wasn't for her, which made it far worse. It was like when she was a kid looking in windows at Christmas, knowing what she wanted, knowing she couldn't have it. She knew the feeling well. In the beginning, she tried to fit in somewhat, but nothing really worked that wouldn't have felt fake.
She wondered what would have happened if her and Linda had shown up together, or even during the summer. With no "perfect" Slayer around to compare her against constantly, would they have accepted her then? Now, it seems like her only purpose is to let B have a life, a future. B, Ms. S and Jeeves all look at her and see the one that could stay behind, that could let B escape, again.
Red looked at her like that too, only when she wasn't looking down her nose at her first. She could feel Red just judging her all the time, finding her lacking something. *I swear, sometimes I just want...* she trailed off, not completing the thought as her Slayer sense flared briefly. She glanced around, opening her senses like Linda taught her, feeling no sign of any demons. Rolling her eyes, she headed east, toward her motel, still keeping her eyes open.
It wasn't like the rest of the gang is any better to her. The wolf- boy, Cordy, even Dawnie, sometimes, when she wasn't caught up in hero worship. The only two that didn't were the Geek and Overbite, though Overbite tended to walk softly around her since she almost staked him. That sent a little thrill through her; was it wrong to enjoy fear sometimes? She didn't think so. In the streets, that kind of power could be the only thing that kept you breathing.
The Geek was harder to read though. At first, he showed all the overblown lust typical of his gender. She laughed; his reaction to the nude-slaying story was almost priceless. To her surprise though, he seemed to have settled down somewhat. Not that the lust was gone, of course; she caught him checking her out often. She smirked. Still, he seemed to move into more of an appreciation of her than anything else. And he listened, which was a first for her. He was kinda cute, had a nice build under those horrible clothes. She had noticed that a while ago; licking her lips slightly, she wouldn't mind giving him a tussle or two. She couldn't risk it though, he was the relationship "forever-love" type, which wasn't her speed. Or, maybe not his either, if that whole cheating thing was any indication.
Still, he was a sweet guy. Not to mention her most likely Secret Santa suspect. She smiled in memory. When she came home from Casa de Summers Christmas day after being "reBuffed" yet again, the last thing she was expecting was to find a gift on her bed. The perfectly carved set of stakes were nice, she could tell someone really put some time and effort into them. They even had grips that fitted her hands perfectly. But what really shocked her was the beautiful Xena statuette. Obviously a collector's item, it was more a work of art than a toy. She didn't think any one even knew she was a fan. She laughed, *Okay, I like watching women kick ass, sue me.*
She remembered talking about TV shows with the gang in the library once, one of the few times she felt a part of them. But she didn't think anyone would've noticed or care enough to remember like this. And the signature on the card, "To a real warrior princess, from a friend," really touched her, in the part of her where Linda still lived.
Eileen knew Fred was in trouble. She knew Sunnydale was dangerous after dark; why he decided to take the risk and go into the dark alley behind his diner just take the garbage out was anyone's guess. Just because he owned the place, he always felt the need to do everything, even cooking. Maybe he figured he could get out and get back quick; obviously he wasn't quick enough.
The raised voices caught her attention when she came to the kitchen to give him an order. She crept closer to the door, holding her cross in one hand and a frying pan in the other. Peeking out, she could see one of the...things... standing near Fred. She heard the fear in his voice, it made her even more nervous. Still, Fred was her friend; he stuck with her during the rough times when another boss might not have been as sensitive, or would've just got another waitress. She gripped the frying pan tighter.
One...thing... had its back to her. Before she could talk herself out of it, she rushed forward, aiming at his head but catching him in the shoulder. He screamed, glowing eyes blazing, before back-handing her to the ground. Fred tried to surge to her aid, but another...thing punched him in the gut, knocking him crashing into the tin garbage cans. She looked around, hoping someone heard the racket. But, there was only silence. She grabbed her cross again, baring it fearfully. The...things laughed as she crawled to the still-gasping Fred. She prayed for a miracle.
She got one.
The sounds of a struggle combined with her Slayer sense going crazy broke her reverie. She ran toward the noise, coming out of the graveyard onto the street. She could see a small pack of vampires toying with a couple in an alley behind the diner. The man held a frying pan while the woman held a cross, trying to keep the pack at bay. There were two vamps standing away from the action, laughing, enjoying the show. She charged in quickly, shocking both the pack and their victims. Whipping one of her new stakes out, she dusted one before he even turned around. Facing his friend, she fired a spin kick, shattering his jaw, dropping him. She pounced, staking him in one motion before whirling to face the rest. One of them, the leader it seemed, started to clap slowly.
"Why, if it ain't the SLA-YER," he paused. "Or rather, the other one."
Faith bristled for a moment. "Won't matter in the end, fang face, you're still dust."
"Oh please," he laughed. "Even if you were the RE-AL slayer, we still got you outnumbered." He looked over her shoulder briefly. Concerned, she looked back, seeing another dozen seem to appear from the woodwork, surrounding her, bringing the total to roughly 20. Faith's eyes widened. 'We never see numbers like this anymore on patrol,' she thought. She shook her head briefly. *Worry about that later, Faith, if there's a later.*
"Boys," he smirked, "take care of the interruption, please." He turned back to playing with the couple, practically dismissing her.
Banter over, she gritted her teeth and launched herself at the nearest vamp, slamming him into the wall. Dusting him, she turned quickly, keeping her back near the wall to prevent anyone from getting behind her. One on her left lunged for her, she quickly side- kicked him in the gut, and tossed him into the group on her right, knocking them down. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a punch coming at her head from the left. Ducking, she lunged forward, driving her knee into his ribs, breaking them, doubling him over, allowing her to stake him in the back. Two more rushed her head-on in tandem, she greeted each with one vicious spin kick. Before she could finish either one, though, another caught her flush with a jab from her right, where the knocked-down group had gotten up again. She blocked his hook and followed with her own, dropping him with a haymaker. She turned to see the duo had gotten up again.
"DAMMIT!" She barely had any time to dust any of them before she got attacked again. It was frustrating as all Hell, plus she wasn't alone in this, either. She could still hear the couple being forced to struggle for that bastard's enjoyment. Her opponents circled her slow, dragging it out in silence. She cursed under her breath. 3-to- 1, she could handle, even 5-to-1, possibly. Forever-to-1? She exhaled deeply. She really wished she had some help. *Might as well wish for a vamp-killing Uzi while I'm at it.* She glanced around once more, racking her brain for a solution, if not to effectively kill all of them, at least for the couple to escape. She came up empty.
*Well, if I'm gonna go,* she narrowed her eyes. *I'm going my way. See you soon, Mom.*
Suddenly yelling a Xena-like battle-cry that tore through the quiet, she charged, slamming her fists into the nearest vamp, who was too surprised to react. She dusted him, but before she could turn, she was slammed back against the wall, hitting the back of her head hard while making her drop her stake. Dazed, she grappled with him on instinct, before kneeing him in the groin. As he groaned, she smashed her elbow into his face twice, stunning him as she fumbled for her backup stake, dusting him, but making the mistake of leaving the weapon inside him. Muttering a curse, she turned into a hard right cross, staggering her against the wall. She reacted blindly, throwing a wild haymaker toward the vamp that somehow connected. Another nailed her stomach with a kick, driving the air from her, bending her over. She caught his follow-up kick, and lifted as she straightened, flipping him hard onto his back. She stumbled back into the wall.
*Can't go down,* she repeated to herself. *If I go down, its over.* They circled her again, looking like the sharks she'd seen on National Geographic. She could feel the blood trickling down her neck. *Head wounds are always the worst.* She looked longingly at her weapon, kicked across the alley in the struggle. She was psyching herself to make a go for it, when two growling screams from the back of the pack, followed quickly by the distinctive sound of dusting vamps made everyone turn in shock. Despite the pain she was in, Faith smiled, things looking better already.
The calvary had arrived.
Moving through the clouds of dust, Xander struck, snapping his heavy steel-toed boot to the knee of the nearest vamp while thrusting his stake underhand into the vamp's heart. He knew he had to work fast, Faith looked like she was having a hard time and there were two potential hostages to worry about too.
Another hostile charged at him. Xander greeted him with a quick left- handed finger-strike to the eye, followed by a right-handed stake- thrust, dusting him. That brought him more into the center of the alley, where a vamp grabbed him from behind in a fierce bear-hug, trapping his arms to his side. He struggled, his weapon still in hand, but the grip was too strong. He growled in frustration.
Faith took advantage of the distraction, diving for her stake, grasping it and rising in a forward roll. She attacked, already feeling cocky, dusting one quickly before working toward the humans. The lead vamp stepped back around the edge, letting his minions step forward. Faith side-kicked the first in the sternum, putting all the frustration of tonight in it, lifting him clean off the floor before he landed hard. She reversed her stance, landing a perfect back-spin kick to the other, dropping him. She dusted them both, clearing her path to the couple, her first real good look at them, a man and woman in their mid-to-late forties, dressed in dirty aprons. They stared back at her with eyes wide. She winked and smiled.
"Sorry for the delay, we'll get you out of here in a few." She turned back to the battle, one vamp moving toward her, she jabbed twice with her left before nailing him with short right hook, spinning him around. She dusted him, searching for more targets, before hearing a low growl. Looking up, she could see that her unknown ally seemed to be in trouble. She started to move to help, before stopping suddenly, her eyes widening.
He looked forward, seeing two hostiles charging. He leaned forward before jumping, using the vamp for leverage, smashing his heels directly into the incoming vampires. Still trapped in his arms, he twisted slightly in mid-air, landing just off-center of the vamp's grip. Using the momentum from falling, he smashed a left- handed hammer-blow into the vamp's groin, turning his hand to grab him hard. The vampire howled, loosening his grip on Xander enough for him to slip down and away.
One of the vampires he kicked had gotten back up angrily, about to swing a wild haymaker at Xander's head. Xander slid quickly behind the still-groaning vamp, leaning away, causing the punch to strike the vampire flush, knocking him down and out. He gaped at his fallen friend, taking his eye off Xander for a second, who used the distraction to send a one-knuckle strike to his throat, crushing his windpipe. The vampire recoiled in agony before Xander dusted both him and the prone vamp decisively.
The third one, seeing his mates go down, rushed forward, arms reaching for Xander's throat. Xander leaned and twisted left, letting the arms pass before countering, his cupped left hand striking against the vamp's eardrum, stunning him. Not finished, he trapped the vamp's right arm and pulled, smashing the vamp's falling face directly into his rising knee. He exchanged his pivot foot, before executing a perfect single-leg sweep takedown, spinning and following the vamp's fall down to stake him upon landing in one easy motion.
Faith almost gaped. Mystery guy had some serious moves working for him. She thought it might have been Angel at first, but this guy lacked Overbite's vampiric grace. Instead, every move was executed with simple brutal efficiency. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a vamp trying to get the drop on her. *Identify later, fight now.* She turned, smashing her right elbow into his eye, following with a left hook to the jaw into a right round kick, dropping him easy. She staked him right-handed and moved to the next, the one who caught her with that sucker punch earlier. She smiled wickedly.
He lunged forward, leading left. She ducked his jab and fired a short left hook to the ribs followed by a knee to the gut, driving him to the wall. She followed with a nasty right uppercut that snapped his head back, loosening his teeth. She hopped in the air, scissoring her legs before snapping a powerful front kick that knocked him cold. Satisfied, she staked him and turned, scanning for more targets.
To her surprise, the only one left was the leader, trapped toward the rear of the alley, who seemed positively shocked at how quickly things turned. She could see him looking toward the opening, hoping for assistance, but she knew the only one there was her ally, not his. She grinned, sashaying slowly to him, as he backed away nervously. She was going to enjoy this. He feinted a kick and threw a right cross. She blocked it easily and decked him with a hard right, sending him staggering into the alley wall. He spit blood before rushing forward, hoping to surprise her. She caught him, twisted and lifted him high before body-slamming him hard into the pavement. Going with the flow, she jumped high before crashing down with a vicious knee drop into his chest, cracking his sternum. He groaned weakly beneath her. She grinned cheekily, still kneeling on his chest, fighting the urge to pin him for a 3-count.
"Like I said before, fang face," she paused, leaning into his face, savoring the moment. "Either way, you're dust." She slammed her stake into his chest, punctuating her statement. Rising, she looked up. Her ally was consoling the victims, and seemed to be doing a nice job, if the small smile on the woman's face was any indication. She still could not see his face well, though; he was turned slightly away from her direction. Walking up, she decided to introduce herself.
"Thanks for the save, stud," she started. "I would've been a goner for sure."
"No problem, Faith," a familiar yet VERY unexpected voice said chuckling. "All a part of the service."
Faith felt her jaw hit the floor.
Xander faced her, somewhat enjoying her shocked reaction. He knew one of the gang would find out about his solo act sooner or later, even though he normally hunted in the part of town Buffy usually forgot about. He just hoped it wasn't going to be Buffy or Willow. He really did not want to be preached at, basically called "useless;" he got enough of that at home. If he were being honest with himself, though, he could not have picked a better scenario than what happened and with whom. He turned back to the victims.
"Eileen, Fred, everything's okay now." He tried to project reassurance into his voice. "Feel free to head back inside to keep making those great burgers of yours." He smiled easily. "Just try not to have to take the trash out at night anymore, okay?"
Fred laughed ruefully. "Yeah, son, that's the last time I make that mistake." He exhaled deeply. "You two just saved our lives. Is there anything we can do to repay you."
Xander flashed a bright smile. It was always nice to be appreciated. "Thanks for the offer, sir, but" gesturing to he and Faith, "that's what we do." He looked at Faith who had stopped impersonating a fish long enough to nod in agreement.
Fred shook his head again. "Tell you two kids what. I own this diner and from now on, you both can eat here anytime for free. How's that grab you?" Xander grinned, imagining the future meals.
"You don't know what you've just done, sir." Faith interjected. She turned to Xander and smirked. "This guy could shut you down and still have room for dessert."
Xander could hear Fred and Eileen laugh as he gave Faith a mock glare. She just grinned defiantly back at him.
"Be that as it may, kids." Fred said getting himself under control. "I still owe you, and the offer still stands." He looked at them both expectantly.
"Well, many thanks to you both, good sir and madam," Xander said with a bad British accent. "We will rah-ther have to accept your kind offer, if that is right-o with you, Lady Faith?" He bowed deeply with an overly-melodramatic flair.
He could see Faith rolling her eyes at his antics with a smile as both Fred and Eileen laughed. It was a carefree smile, one she didn't show often. He decided he would like to see it more.
"Five-by-five," she said, nodding her approval. "But can we take a raincheck on it, because we kinda got to motor." Xander looked at her curiously, but she said nothing else.
Fred clapped his hands and smiled. "No problem, Faith . . . and Xander was it?" Xander nodded. "Anytime you are in the area, just ask for either of us. We are always here." Eileen smiled in agreement. Xander noticed she had not said much, probably still in shock a little bit.
"Well, have a good night you two, and thanks again." Fred and Eileen turned to go back into the diner.
"Like he said, all a part of the service." Faith responded. Xander smiled at them, waving his good-bye. When the door closed, he could see Faith turn toward him. By unspoken mutual consent, they started walking out of the alley side-by-side.
Faith looked at Xander again. She could see why she was so surprised. Dressed in all black, including his t-shirt, military fatigues pants and long duster, he looked like a total different person than the Geek she thought she knew. His manner was even different. The way he moved. The jokes aside, she could sense a cold steel lurking beneath his surface that she had never noticed before. That no one probably noticed before, come to think of it, she thought. Or else they wouldn't treat him like a wimp. Yet, he kept that same light-hearted nature. It was like looking at a happy- go-lucky predator, as disjointed as the thought seemed.
"So, stud, how long you've been keeping secrets." She asked. She was really curious, coming up the way she did, reading people was a survival skill, one Linda encouraged. It was the first time in a long time she'd been so wrong.
He stopped, causing her to do so as well. He stared at her for a long moment, locking eyes with her before seeming to come to a decision. He started walking again
"I'll tell you what, Faith." He began smoothly. "I have a line on a fair-sized vamp meeting at a nest on the East side." He turned to face her again. "You meet me here tomorrow night, we can shoot over there, take them out, and come back here for dinner." He smirked. "I'll answer any question you got, deal?"
She cocked her head slightly, watching him watch her. It didn't feel like a pick-up line, not that she'd have minded if it was. It felt more like an olive branch, like he was asking for her trust by offering his own. Not too many people gave her something without wanting something in return. He didn't strike her as the user-type, especially with the Christmas gift thing. She never spoke of it, and neither did he, not once using that as a possible invitation. No, from what she could see, he was opening himself up as a friend. She never really had a genuine one of those, only acquaintances to be kept at a distance. She smiled, extending her hand.
"Deal." They shook, but instead of releasing his hand, she pulled him close.
"By the way, thanks loads for that Christmas gift," she whispered in his ear, placing a feather light kiss on his cheek before releasing him. She watched his face flush crimson, like she knew it would, and his jaw drop, putting her up one on the scoreboard. She flashed him a bright smile.
Xander watched her spin and walk away. Finally regaining control, he chuckled.
"You are more than welcome, Faith," he said, knowing she could still hear him. She raised her hand briefly in acknowledgement while continuing on her way. He could only shake his head, laughing, as he walked toward home.
Tomorrow might be an interesting day.
"Whenever I find myself doubting the idea of God owning a bloody wicked sense of humor, I remember that the catalyst for the rebirth of one of the greatest legends in history took place in a greasy spoon in a no-name, "one-Starbucks" hole of a burg because some stupid bugger forgot to take out his bloody garbage. If that's not wicked, it is at least deliciously ironic."
- William Smythe, noted author of best-selling book "The Secret Wars," During BBC Interview dated June 13, 2026.
Faith stood at the opening of the alley behind the diner, waiting. She wasn't able to say much to Xander when she saw him at the library earlier, but they were able to confirm a time. She couldn't say he was late, exactly; it was more like she got tired of sitting in her room and decided to come a little early, her curiosity getting the better of her.
She had made a habit of pretty much reading just about anybody. Coming up how she did, sometimes it was the only thing that saved her ass. By the time she got older, nobody could really surprise her, but he did. If someone asked her before yesterday who, of everybody she knew, would she pick to have her back in a tight spot, Xander would've been far down on the list. In fact, she thought, the only reason he'd even make the list was because he's so completely loyal and dedicated that she knew he'd do anything, no matter how useless, to save them both. But now, it's a whole new ballgame.
She could hear a dull roar approaching, sounding like a bike. She always wanted a bike, but never had the money or any other means to get one. Some of the people she knew from Southie had bikes. When they let her ride, she loved the feeling of power, freedom. Linda said she'd consider getting her one, once she got her license, but life went another way.
Shaking her head out of memory, she watched, raising one eyebrow, as Xander rolled up in front of her riding a wicked cool black bike with silver trim. She whistled softly; looked like he copped a Yamaha V-Max, one of her favorites. He was dressed similar to what he had on last night, dark blue t-shirt, flowing duster, fatigue pants concealing a variety of toys. He also had a large bag on his back, most likely packed with more goodies. *The guy just keeps wrecking my handle,* she thought, chuckling. Pulling to a stop, Xander raised his helmet to rest on top of his head while he let the engine idle. He looked at her, eyes dancing with quiet amusement, and smiled, a gesture she returned.
"Evening, Faith." He said easily, as if they were just meeting to go to the mall. She laughed slightly under her breath.
"Hey, stud. Nice bike." Well, two can play this game, she thought.
"Yeah, well," he looked down, breaking eye contact for the first time. He raised his gaze, looking her up and down, drinking her in. "You'd be amazed what you find when you least expect it." He stared at her, maintaining eye contact, looking very sincere.
Caught flat-footed, she felt her face shade slightly red. *Okay, the score is back even again; this will be fun.* She smirked. He reached behind him to the extra helmet attached to the bike's rear. When he turned back, all signs of her blushing had faded.
"Ready?" He asked. She took the helmet, and looked at him for a moment, the question plain on her face.
"There's a spot across from the nest where we can do some recon and talk strategy. We have almost an hour really before its supposed to start."
"Okay, stud," she said, putting on the helmet and climbing on the back. "Sounds like a plan." She wrapped her arms around him, making sure to let her hands lightly caress up and down his abs. She could practically feel his eyes widen that time. *The Wild Child is back in front,* she smiled devilishly. Getting himself under control, he pulled off smoothly.
Ten minutes later, they were on the second floor of a vacant house on East Side, looking across the street at the evening's target. Xander had set up a couple flashlights, allowing them to see. She saw him looking over at her, noticing her tense attention. She hadn't yet asked what was going on, but she wanted to. Instead, she decided to just observe him, see what his new deal was. He was wicked serious, that was the first thing. Normally, the Scoobies seemed to joke their way through stuff, but this felt more... calculated. That would be the right word. *Like preparing for battle, not a hobby.* Yet, he seemed comfortable, at home like it was a walk in the park. It did fit him more than when he was being the Geek. She could see that by how he handled some of the funky toys he brought with him.
She watched him adjust a hand-held radio, setting it near the floor. She glanced at the area around them, noticing a variety of tools he had spread on the floor. Several stakes, a handful of canisters, some knives, a machete, two balaclavas, some electronics stuff and what looked like silly putty. She was definitely curious. He turned to her, the move catching her attention.
"Okay, here's the sitch. A few nights back, I got some info from a source about a nest hosting a potentially large vamp meeting for tonight. I was able to get inside when the leeches were away and plant one of these," holding up the walkie-talkie, "in a spot in the main room." He set the radio down again.
She stared at him. "How you pull that off?" She had trouble sneaking up on vamps and she was a slayer. *How did a normal human get in and out of a nest without a problem? Damn, X has more tricks than a cereal box.*
He smiled. "Ask me again sometime, I might just tell you."
She rolled her eyes, smiled and gestured for him to continue, scoring him another point.
He nodded. "From what I could hear, the meet seems to be about the Slayers, and some rumors of a new hunter, meaning me, most likely." He gestured to the tools on the floor. "I got some ideas about how to handle it, you let me know what you think."
"Sounds good to me, X," she narrowed her eyes at the equipment again. "But tell me what you got here first. Looks like you brought some serious hardware." She picked up one of the canisters.
"What you have there is a holy-water aerosol canister, basically the same idea behind the tear-gas bombs cops use. Thought we might use them as a warm-up?"
She cackled. "Oh definitely, stud. What else you got?"
He picked up the silly putty and the electronics, grinning wickedly in a way she liked. "This is our secret weapon. Military- grade plastique with a couple remote fuses and detonators. Before I ran into you, this op was going to be..." He paused.
"Messy?" She interjected.
He cocked his head. "Was going to say loud, but messy works too."
She laughed. "You were just going to blow the nest?"
He put his hands up playfully. "Hey, last night was the first time I had to take out a pack like that. Normally, I'm good for the sneaky 1-on-1 or maybe 1-on-2 thing."
"Well, we can talk threesomes later, Stud. But, for a virgin, you popped your cherry good."
He goggled for a moment then swallowed. "Um... thanks." She laughed, marking herself another point.
He rolled his eyes and smirked. "Let's get back to business, shall we?"
"Yes, sir. Commander Xander, sir!" She saluted, making sure to stick her chest out just a bit.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, smiling. She grinned back, notching another point while noting her increasing lead.
"Okay, X. Business now, play later?"
He straightened up mock-stiffly. "Yes, quite." He said in perfect Giles-voice. She chuckled, he leaned in, like he had a secret to share.
"And by the way, Faith," moving closer, he paused. "I wouldn't mind giving you a FULL inspection, any day." He wiggled his eyebrows faux- provocatively.
Her eyes widened, shocked for a moment, then she snorted, watching his amusement. She could see he was catching on to their little game, seemed like she needed to take him serious in more ways then one. He regained control and held her gaze, smirking
"But first, I got an idea."
Almost 90 minutes later, Xander stood on one side of the nest house. He knew Faith was on the opposite side, waiting for his go signal. It was quiet, the silence that always happens before a big event, the calm before the storm. Everything was in place, the trading of ideas had led to a very sound tactical strategy. He smiled to himself; he wasn't really surprised though. He'd had a feeling she was smarter than she liked to let on, maybe even smarter than she believed. He sighed. They had that in common, he laughed ruefully, before turning his focus back to the mission.
It seemed like everybody who was going to show was already here. There was another group who was expected, but it seemed they had gotten delayed, if what he'd overheard was right. Which could be potentially dangerous, leaving possible threats at your six is never a good idea. Still, it could be useful in another way. He smiled devilishly. *Yes, it could be useful.*
He could hear the head guy leading a discussion about the Hunter. One benefit of his guerilla-style tactics was that nobody could really identify him He struck quickly, decisively and disappeared. It just seemed more... natural to attack that way. He sometimes entertained the thought that his methods made him more... mysterious than Buff's usual full-frontal tactics. He smirked, that analogy brought an interesting image to mind. He shook his head, focusing again.
Ironically enough, his method may have been more effective than he thought. From what he heard, it sounded like the vamps were nervous. Maybe even, dare he say it, scared? The devil's grin returned. *Again, very useful.* He raised his radio, dialed to a matching frequency.
"Faith," he began with quiet confidence, his voice clear even through the balaclava covering his face.
"Yeah, stud." He could practically hear her smirk.
"One minute to Go-signal."
"Five-by-five."
"The truth of the matter, Holekamp exclaims, is that the spotted hyena (Crocuta crocuta) is highly intelligent, with mental abilities and social skills to match many a primate. These hyenas are also superb predators, feeding mostly on fresh meat. Their hunting skill equals that of lions or cheetahs."
- Excerpt from John Pickrell's "Rebranding the Hyena." Science News Online Article, volume 161, Number 17, dated April 27, 2002.
"Look... the bottom line is... I don't know!" The vampire named Antonio said.
"You gotta know something," another vamp named Santana replied. "Nobody else has even seen this guy. You said you saw him in action, now talk."
"No, no, no. I said I saw somebody get dusted. Looked like she'd been shot or something and she just dusted. I didn't see a who or where the who was at. And I was more worried about staying alive myself then playing fuckin' Perry Mason." Antonio sat back.
The vampires in the room sighed almost collectively.
"Does anybody know something about this guy," Mike asked. "I mean, we got how many in this room? Coupla dozen maybe? And don't nobody know nothing?" He shook his head.
"Whacha expect?" Guido interjected, almost panicked. "This guy, works all-shadowy-like, takes us out whenever he feel like, ain't nobody ever faced him and lived to talk about it, whatcha want us to say?!"
Eddie was nervous. He wasn't supposed to be nervous. He was a vampire, the predator's predator. Still, he was nervous. So was everybody else in the room. Which made him even more nervous. There were not any true master vamps in the room, Mr. Trick being the only one in town. He was most notably absent and not expected to attend, citing other more important business. But they had enough Heavies, Eddie included, with power backing them to run this meeting. Still, all of them were very nervous and, though no self-respecting vamp would admit it, scared.
They had called this meeting to discuss a few problems in the community, namely the Slayers. Things were bad enough when there was just one of them, but two? Fortunately for Eddie and his crew, the Slayers and the Traitor tended to stay in certain areas at somewhat predictable times. The only vamps who got caught were either stupid or arrogant enough to go spoiling for a fight.
Eddie made sure his crew knew where they had to be, where to hunt when needed. He didn't fancy direct confrontations with any of them unless the numbers were big in his favor. And those numbers had fell off thanks to the other problem, the Hunter.
No one had ever seen Him. He has no set pattern, unlike the Slayers. The only things the community knows are that He tends to work East Side and He prefers to pick off vamps in small numbers. He might not even be human. .
Practically every crew in the room has lost a few members at least to this guy over the past six weeks. Angela, Marco, Tony, Sheila. Eddie's crew members all sent to Final Death by Him. He could feel his demon raging at the thought. There was a rumor that he might be a hired assassin. Of course, that begged the question of who did the hiring. The Community wasn't strong on ideas like trust and loyalty. Vamps had one eye looking over their shoulder for the hunter and the other on everyone else.
Eddie was about to interject a point, when several windows shattered suddenly on both sides of the room. Every vampire shot up from their seats, the nervous feeling shot past fear and went straight to absolutely terrified. He could hear a rolling sound, like a six-pack falling loose across the hard wood floor. He spotted one of the objects; it looked like an insect bomb or something. It came to a stop, with a sound like a soda lid popping, spewing something gas-like. The sound was echoed across the room, more mist rising. Eddie's eyes narrowed, curious. His first thought, amused, was that the Sunnydale Police decided to raid the house for some reason.
That's when the screams started.
Followed shortly by the sound of the front door being kicked in, hard.
Faith stood in the doorway and admired her handiwork for a moment, before attacking aggressively. The vamps were too distracted and in too much pain from the holy-water mist to notice her at first, she was able to dust three before one of them realized someone was there.
"Human!" One vamp yelled, swinging a wild punch in her general direction. She stepped up, punched him hard in the gut and staked him, returning to her position in front of the door and snap- kicked another in the jaw, staggering him. She took advantage of it by staking him quickly. The vampires now seemed to realize they were under attack, she smirked. Unfortunately for them, the vapors stung their eyes, forcing them to just stumble around wildly, trying to painfully track her by sound.
She stayed silent, not leaving her area by the door, though; it was all a part of the plan. She felt like a goalie, except it was her job to keep them in the house, forcing them to go the other way. She noticed through the mist that some were groping their way down the hall toward the back door. She smiled wickedly. *Time for the next surprise,* she thought.
That's when the back door exploded.
Xander pounced in behind the blast, there were several hostiles down on the kitchen floor, squirming. He also noticed that some broken shards had gotten lucky and impaled a few. He watched one vamp flopping around, causing the shard in his chest to slip into his heart. He fired a bolt from his wrist-mounted crossbow, dusting a hostile standing in the hall before whipping out his stake and getting a straggler who stumbled bleeding toward him.
He finished the downed vampires before moving to the hall entrance, killing another staggering hostile. The mist was beginning to dissipate through the two open doorways. There was still enough to keep them distracted, though; which was all he and Faith needed. He reached his hand to his radio, clicking the send button twice.
She heard Xander's signal, meaning he secured the rear door, even though her Slayer-sharp eyesight could spot his progress through the steadily clearing mist. She could hear the screams from the kitchen, followed by the wonderful sound of a dusting. She grinned. In the chaos, she staked more than a few of the vamps herself, maintaining control of her area.
It was almost too easy; kinda like picking off blind ducks. She could see the vamps were completely overwhelmed by their attack. A vamp wobbled, blinking rapidly. She staked him, no need to be pretty. Noticing a group of three trying to reach the front door, she moved into their path, attacking quickly. She reared back and decked the middle vamp, leaving the others without an anchor. One attempted to lunge in her direction; she ducked, getting inside his guard, before rising with an uppercut to the ribs, doubling him over. In one motion, she hurdled and staked him, twisting and whipping a kick to the jaw of the last, dropping him to his knees. She staked him, slid left and staked the vamp she'd knocked cold.
Xander noted two hostiles in the hallway; he greeted one with straight stake to the heart. Upon hearing his friend's death, the other hostile fired a left hook to where he hoped was their attacker's head. Xander evaded and parried, trapping the punch into a straight arm-bar, and snapped the elbow at the joint. The hostile screamed loudly, spinning directly into Xander's stake.
Xander smiled beneath his mask; he moved into the back of the living room, where the last hostiles remained. He made eye-contact with Faith, who had finished off some of her own. There seemed to be a perfect stillness. She smiled at him, tilting her head.
"Leave one,"
"Five-by-five."
Almost in concert, they waded into the leftovers, dispatching them with precision.
She saw the cold look in his eyes, still not something she's used to on the Geek. Or ex-Geek, whatever. He was cutting them down, as brutal as he was last night. Still, she felt he was enjoying the whole thing, almost half as much as she was. She beamed brightly as her own opponents went down.
In all the time since she'd been Called, she couldn't remember a nest raid going so well. There were at least two dozen vamps in the meeting and they might as well have dusted themselves for all the struggle they put up. *Damn, gotta work with X more often,* she thought.
She dusted another vamp before noticing they were down to just one. He staggered along the wall, trying to reach the hallway. She laughed. It was just too easy.
Eddie didn't know what went wrong. One minute, he and a bunch of vamps were talking business; next minute, they are under attack by something, or two somethings. His face and hands blazed, couldn't see jack shit, barely made out shapes more than three feet away. He tried to smell his way through and inhaled a cloud of vapors, the feeling reminded him of the sinus headaches he got when he was human. He got all spun around during the attack before finding his balance, now trying to grope his way to the kitchen, to his only hope. He only could wish the attackers forgot about him. He prayed for a miracle.
Of course, he already knew he wouldn't get one, being an abomination and all.
She watched Xander with growing anticipation, wondering what he might do next. The last thing she expected was for Xander to simply raise his left arm. She saw his arm tense briefly, her eyes widened when a bolt came flying out, hitting the vamp in his stomach, slamming him into the wall. The vamp screamed, dropping to the floor bonelessly. She could hear the bolt sizzling somehow in the wound. She turned to him, raising an eyebrow quizzically.
"Want to know what's the what?" He smirked, raising the mask to expose his face. She nodded her head, doing the same while conceding the floor to his pride, knowing the answer might help intimidate their prisoner.
Ever notice your stakes seem to be a bit..." He paused, hands gesturing, "shiny?"
She looked at the stake in her hand curiously, seeing the light reflect off it.
"Yeah, I just thought you made it pretty for me." She shrugged.
He laughed. "Well, partially. But the gloss had a purpose." He looked at the vamp on the floor, who mewled weakly while slightly twitching. Xander crouched, looking directly into the vamp's glazed eyes, who tried to disappear into the wall. He turned back to Faith.
"It's a wonder what can happen when you paint with holy-water based enamel."
The vamp's eyebrows raised noticeably, at the same moment as Faith's.
He chuckled at their reactions, knowing he had the hostile by the balls and Faith's total and complete attention. He turned back to the vamp's panicked expression.
"Well, we got choices here, buddy. Either you tell me any and everything you know that might interest me, or..." He hesitated, before reaching out and wiggling the bolt in the wound. The hostile screamed from his depths, grasping at his hands. Xander hauled back and struck his face flush, snapping the hostile's head back.
"I could leave this in here for awhile. Let it burn slow." Xander smirked. "Oh, and by the way," He stood up again, letting the hostile dangle on his words like a fish on a hook. "Did I forget to mention that the bolt tip is coated with a mix of many... painful poisons." He smiled, shark-like. "Matter of fact, they should be kicking in right about..."
The hostile's struggles increased, he wailed brokenly. Xander chuckled devilishly. "Now."
Faith looked down at the last vamp, her mask back in place, shaking her head while laughing to herself. After Xander played him like a piano, the poor guy sung like a Backstreet Boy. Two of the biggest things were the location of a possible cash spot in-house and a potential situation at a homeless shelter. Xander gave her a look that meant they'll discuss it later, before going up to check on the cash, trusting her to watch the exits for the late-comers due anytime soon.
When he came back, he was carrying a good-sized bag and laughing wickedly. Just the way she liked him.
"What you find up there?"
"Not much," he said. Still smiling, he opened the bag, showing stacks of money. Her eyes widened as she stared at the bag. She hadn't seen that much money since she ran with Tony's crew in Southie. She turned her gaze back to Xander, who winked. She laughed.
"Okay, what we gonna do with him."
Xander laid the bag down and bowed solemnly, holding a stake out like it was Excalibur. She laughed harder.
"If your highness would do the honors?"
Snatching the stake, she whirled and staked the vamp out of his misery. She turned to see Xander walk to the wall, holding a knife he'd found in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.
"What's that for, Stud?" He placed the piece of paper on the wall before sending the blade through the top.
"Just sending a little message." He stepped back to admire his handiwork. Curious, she moved closer.
"'Thanks for the invite, Nemo?'" She turned to look at him again. "Whatha hell?"
"Tell you what," he looked down at the floor. "How bout we discuss it at the diner?" He glanced her again. "After all your help, I at least owe you dinner."
She blushed slightly and rolled her eyes, not used to being appreciated. A lot like him, she thought. She did notice he deflected her question, though.
"You did promise to feed me too." Her eyes danced with amusement. He chuckled.
"Yeah, and you are the only real eating rival I got in this town."
"Well, I am a big girl," she looked him up and down slow. "Gotta keep my strength up."
He smiled. "No comment."
She laughed huskily. "Didn't think you would."
He watched them leave, keeping to the shadows to evac easily. From start to finish, the Op took under 10 minutes, and even included a fruitful interrogation. They cleared the area, leaving that note as the only trace of their presence, the disguises and bomb clouds preventing any real identification. He was quite impressed.
He noticed some straggling vamps coming up to the house, looking shell-shocked. He laughed softly, moving away himself. Flipping open his cell, he dialed several digits. He heard a soft click and began, not waiting for any acknowledgement.
"There is a new situation." He smiled ferally. "One that requires... observation."
"The Prodigy has made quite an impression in a lot of places. Initiate a meeting at your discretion and tread softly; he could become a valued asset."
Encrypted message sent July, 1998
from subject (Mars) to subject (Kodiak).
Excerpt from "Secret Wars" by William Smythe.
"And so Willow says," Xander paused dramatically. "'That's not a demon, Buffy, it's a car." He parroted Willow's perky voice almost perfectly.
At that, Faith started laughing even harder than before, sliding down sideways in the booth. She tried to regain some control but she was absolutely helpless. Tears were running down her face, her sides hurt and she knew her face was probably a match for Red's hair. All she could do was raise a hand, silently begging for some mercy. Ever since they got to the diner, Xander told her the uncut versions of some of the gang's past adventures, especially the ones that led him to be who he is now, while treating her to one of the best damn meals she'd had in months. She couldn't remember laughing so much in her life.
"Oh, God." She almost hyperventilated. "Oh, God." Unbidden, she pictured Victorian Buffy again, all dainty, fragile-like. Her head lolled back, laughing more. She knew people in the diner were staring, but she could care less. She was out with her new friend, and fuck them if they can't handle it.
"Wait X. Oh, God." She was taking deep breaths. She took a sip of her soda.
"How bout this quote," Xander grinned ruthlessly. His face went vacant, voice went up several octaves. "'Surely some big strong men will protect us?'" He pouted his lips a bit.
Faith stopped herself just short of a classic spit-take, almost hitting her head on the table. The idea of Buffy, a 90's Blonde- Ambition alpha femme if Faith ever saw one, acting so damn sweet and delicate was too ridiculous to imagine.
Okay, stud. stop. please?." She held her hand up, almost hyperventilating again. "I can't take any more."
Xander smiled, she could see him obviously enjoying her enjoyment. *Man, he's cute, wicked good in a jam and a freakin' barrel of laughs.* She shook her head, her laughs slowing to a chuckle. He was definitely a catch, anybody with eyes could see that. *Just maybe not for someone like her?* The thought helped sober her. She looked at him.
"So what X, after that whole deal you still got GI-Joe running around in your head?" He sighed.
"Something like that, I guess." Xander hesitated, "sometimes it seems a little bit. more to it than that."
She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean, more?"
He looked down a moment. She grabbed a bite of her burger.
"Well," he began. "I seem to just know a lot more than an Army grunt should know."
She cocked her head. "Like what, exactly."
He glanced around briefly, before locking gazes with her again. His eyes flickered, going colder like before. "I can tell you any and all possible threats in the diner, up to and including Fred, whose started packing some concealed heat since last night, most likely a Glock from the looks of it. I can also describe everyone who was here when we got here, who's arrived and who's already left, including when and how." He paused. "And there's more." He exhaled deeply. "I can also tell you who's easy prey; like the kid in the corner booth who walked in 7 minutes ago from the blue '91 Jeep outside favoring his right hamstring or Eileen, who hasn't fully gotten over last night. I could practically smell her fear as soon as we walked in." He shook his head. "How would a simple soldier know all that on just instinct?"
Her jaw dropped.
Xander watched her turn her head, her eyes darting toward Fred at the counter. He could see she now noticed the slight but telling bulge near his back hip. He watched her eyes watch Eileen, trying so hard to act "normal" that she overdid it. She whipped her head back around to stare at him with awe and respect.
"How. But. You." She shook her head. He shrugged.
"Ever since the summer, you know, when Buffy." He paused, not wanting to say 'deserted.' "Left, the gang would patrol the town and take up the slack. I noticed the more I did it, the more some. instincts came out." He snagged a couple fries. "Still, wouldn't have been much use if a friend hadn't helped me out."
She narrowed her eyes again. "Who, ani't one of the Scoobies right?" She cocked her head again. "Unless you mean Oz, who woulda kept his mouth shut."
He smiled at her comment. "No, it was somebody outside the group, who I met by accident." Not exactly a lie, it was an accident on my end at least, he thought. "Anyway, he said he'd been around the block a few times, could show me the ropes if I wanted." He shrugged. "After busting my ass every morning for awhile, all that stuff was kinda at my fingertips." He smiled briefly. "Kind of a 'how to get in touch with your inner bad-ass in 10 easy lessons' type thing." She snorted.
"So who's your Mr. Miyagi-guy, stud? Is he still around? A girl could use some tips, you know?" She smirked.
Xander laughed briefly. "Nothing like Mr. Miyagi, Faith, or Yoda for that matter. First off, he was over 7 feet tall and built like a tank." Her eyes bulged for a moment and she chuckled.
"What, Giles not good enough so you had to ask Shaq?"
Xander laughed. "Nothing like that, really. It just kinda happened." Yeah right, he thought ruefully. "After about 2 months, he said I learned all I needed to know for now and he'd be in touch. Haven't heard word one since." Again, not exactly a lie; Op security is what it is, he sighed internally.
She chuckled again, shaking her head. "That's real deep, X. But how come you never say anything? I mean, they treat you like porcelain and all, when we both know it really, really, really ain't necessary." She snorted.
He chuckled, then sighed. "I've thought about it, sometimes." It wouldn't really break cover or anything, just show I can handle myself a bit. "But after all the times they ignore or belittle me and all, I just don't care much anymore. He sighed deeper. "Besides, seems like everybody's got their little secrets, I'll just keep mine."
She nodded. "Yeah, I get that." She looked down, almost sheepish. "Do you mind that I know?"
He shook his head vigorously. "No, no, not at all, Faith." He shrugged, again. That's getting to be a nasty habit. "You didn't spill about tonight, so you can keep a secret. Besides," he looked at her sincerely. "I trust you." I do; I just can't tell you everything. Yet.
Her eyes flickered, became vulnerable for a moment. She smiled at him.
"Thanks, Xander." He simply nodded. She really meant that. No one really trusted her before. People admired, hated, used, feared, respected, abused, or resented her. But never trust. The closest was Linda. She sighed.
"What is it?" Damn, didn't think he noticed. *Hell, girl, guy can pay complete attention to you and still give biographies of everybody in the place, and you think he'd miss that?* She was about to dismiss it, but changed her mind.
"I was just remembering my old Watcher, Linda. Did I ever tell you about her?" He shook his head. "She was a great woman. Kind, caring, little like Giles now that I think about it." She exhaled. "A little less British, though." She smiled wistfully.
"You miss her." Wasn't a question.
"Yeah, she was wicked cool to me." She paused, "You know about, y'know, me being forced to watch her die." He nodded. "It was. . . tough." She clenched her jaw, looked down.
"I get that." She glanced up. "I've been there, or something like it." She could see a glimmer of pain in his gaze.
"Who?"
"His name was Jesse." He looked down at the table, playing with his fork. "He was the closest thing I had to a brother." He exhaled. "We grew up together, basically. Don't really remember a time before him, y'know?" He smiled briefly in memory.
"What happened?"
"It was after I found out about the nightlife and Buffy. We went out one night, got separated. Darla captured him, dragged him into a tunnel." He blinked real slowly.
"They killed him." He surprised her by shaking his head.
"Worse," he took a shuddering breath. "Big vamp attack the next night, guess who comes to dinner?"
She winced in sympathy. "I'm sorry Xander. B got 'em for you right?"
He looked at her. His eyes were so sad, she almost wanted to cry herself. "Nope, that honor was left for me, the first notch on my belt." She inhaled sharply. She couldn't imagine having to kill a friend, much less a "brother." Her resentment for B swelled. How could she let that happen to him? Especially for his first kill. Where was she? *Probably grinding with Fang.*
She reached out for his hand, squeezing it. He squeezed back, smiled briefly in appreciation. They stared at each other for a moment, before they unlocked their gazes, followed shortly by their hands. Leaning back, she had a thought.
"Is that why I heard you were so wicked hard on B about Fang when he went bad?"
He looked up, startled. He paused, considered it. "I never really thought about it that way." He looked down pensively. "I think you might be on to something there."
She shrugged. "After all, it's only fair, right? You had to kill your brother, who'd only been a vamp for a day, not even enough time to do any damage." She looked at him, he was following every word. "Meanwhile, Fang's wrecking shop for weeks, months even, still gets a free pass."
He nodded in agreement.
He was amazed at her perceptiveness. Once she said that, many different things he been struggling with became clear. "Yeah, there was some buried resentment there. Still, it was just good strategy." He shrugged. "He was a threat who needed to be dealt with. And it wasn't like we were the only ones in danger." His jaw clenched. "Every night, he was killing, which means our inaction made us responsible. I didn't think we had time to be subtle or nice."
She nodded. "I get that, X." She paused. "You can't tell me you didn't appreciate the ending though, Fang going to Hell and all?"
He tilted his head, smirking. "After putting my friends through Hell, it's only fair he got to visit himself." She laughed. He rubbed his jaw a bit. "Still, I would've preferred Angelus suffering, he was the monster who earned it. Made me realize that there really is a difference between the two." He sighed. "I guess I was a little jealous before, tired of being measured against him and coming up short."
Her eyes flashed with something, he wasn't sure. "I can relate."
He looked at her for a moment, and nodded. "Buffy."
She sighed. "I mean, its like nothing I do is ever good enough next to the precious Slayer-Princess."
He snorted, laughing almost involuntarily. "Don't believe I heard that term before."
She smiled. "Yeah, well, it just feels like everyone wants me to be her, little Miss Perfect." She mocked. "I just get a little frustrated."
He took her hand. "I can't speak for everybody, but as for me, I don't want or need a junior Buffy. I like Faith just the way she is."
She stared at him, her eyes softened. She smiled.
Eileen noticed the two were finished and began walking over. She felt better as soon as they came in, like they were Guardian Angels or something. She was still quite shaken from last night; she tried to gut it out, but every time she let her mind wander, she saw those glowing yellow eyes filled with her death. She shuddered.
"Can I get you two kids anything else?" She saw them jump, did she interrupt something?
The boy Xander seemed to get control first. "Oh believe me, I'm absolutely great thanks, Faith?"
She rubbed her stomach. "Five-by-Five, stud." She looked at Eileen. "Those burgers were wicked great, hadn't had a meal that good in a long minute."
Eileen smiled. It was the least they could do, and she knew Fred really wanted to show his thanks. She saw Xander slipping a Ten on to the table. She shook her head vigorously.
"Told you yesterday, your money's no good here." He looked at her.
"Figured you'd say something like that. So consider this your tip plus my compliments to the Chef." He grinned, Faith snorted; all Eileen could do was laugh.
"I won't be able to convince you otherwise, huh?" She looked at the money and sighed, knowing a losing battle when she saw one.
"Sorry, Eileen." His grin widened.
Shaking her head, smiling, she picked up the ten as she saw them rise from their seats.
Spotting them, Fred walked out from the kitchen. Eileen watched Xander extend his hand, meeting Fred in a firm shake. He really does have good manners for such a young one. She leaned toward Faith.
"He's a keeper," Eileen whispered.
Faith turned to her for a moment before turning back to Xander. "Yeah, he's something else, all right."
They both smirked, sharing a moment in male appreciation.
He pulled up to her motel; she relished every part of the ride. She was almost sorry the night was coming to a close; she had a thought to invite him for a bit. She changed her mind though, he was her first real friend, she didn't want to risk it. Yet.
"So, X, it's been fun, we should do it again sometime." She dismounted, grazing against him slow.
"Definitely, in fact," he reached behind him. She watched him, curious. He pulled out a cell phone and the bag of money they'd taken earlier. He handed her the bag first. "First, here's your cut for tonight."
She cocked her head, then looked in the bag. It seemed a little less than before, but not by much. A few weeks back, she'd run off without a second thought. Yesterday, she might have. Tonight? *He's a friend.* "I can't take all your cash, stud."
He chuckled. "Who said that's all of it?" He patted a small bag he had over his shoulder. "I figured a 80-20 split was fair deal for tonight." She felt the need to argue, while Eileen's words echoed.
"But. . . X. . ."
"Don't worry, Faith. My wallet's not hurting. Unlike the Tweed Brigade, I don't do this for free." She chuckled, he smiled. "Which brings me to my next point." He handed her the cell. "My cell digits are set on speed-dial one." She glanced at the phone, surprised
"Anytime you need me, just give me a call."
"You just wanna hear me talk dirty at night." She smirked.
He smiled. "Well, maybe. You got the voice for it, why let it go to waste?"
"Is that right?" She added a bit more honey to it.
He smirked. "I still have interesting dreams about your. . . " He looked her up and down. "...Stories."
She laughed. "Which one?"
He grinned, restarting the engine. He put his helmet back on. He flipped her a jaunty salute.
"See you around, Faith." He winked, before pulling off.
She shook her head, chuckling to herself. *No, my life's not too boring.*
After securing his bike elsewhere, he walked into his parents house, entering the basement which had been his room ever since he fought his father back for the first time, the night after Jesse's final death. Securing his gear first, he stripped down to his boxers. He pulled out a laptop from under his bed, logging into a secure site through a portal that would take Willow weeks to hack. He checked his personal mailbox first; no new messages yet. Not really a surprise, it'd only been a few weeks since Kodiak officially "activated" him from probation. He opened a new screen. Remembering protocol, he began typing.
To: General
Fr: Nemo
Re: Checkmate
"White Knight with Queen-ally captured several black pawns plus possible rooks. No major pieces eliminated as yet. Possible score within next few moves. Will investigate."
He paused, gathering his thoughts. He wouldn't mind bringing Faith aboard.
"Dark Queen definite trust-potential, please advise?"
He sent the message, closed the laptop. He headed toward the shower, remembering the gypsy slayer's caress while she sat behind him. He exhaled, made sure the water was much cooler than normal. He was going to need it.
"Peacekeeping is defined as confronting the worst in Man with the best in Man."
- Kofi Annan, United Nations Secretary General, 2002
Her last roundhouse smashed his jaw, dropping him hard. Barely breathing hard, she bent over and staked him easily before straightening, looking for the last vamp, who'd apparently been already dusted. By her partner. Who now stood watching her, appreciatively. She flushed a bit, before rolling her eyes and shaking her head
"Nice view," he said with a slight leer.
She chuckled, "Same here, stud." She really dug him in all black, looking all wicked-nasty.
He smirked and turned to the entrance. "Ready?" His voice floated back. "There could be some more action back on East Side." Stalking this pathetic four-pack led them all the way here. They thought they could find a nest out of the deal but the Vamps had decided to start hunting instead. She and X took them down before any harm was done though.
"Let's motor-vate, X." She did really enjoy working with him. To her surprise, his patrol method seemed to be completely opposite B's or the Council's. It reminded her of Linda, in a way. They would find a small group and just tail them, nice and easy- like. They found nests and lairs this way, and after the "hunt," as he called it, they would just raid the place, taking any valuables that weren't locked down and some that were. She grinned, remembering the nice stash of cash she had back at her spot. Yeah, sometimes, they'd do the rescue thing too, but she preferred the raids, kinda like the whole thief-in-the-night gig that she'd sadly left behind in Boston.
They walked out of the alleyway; she used her senses to scan for more vamps, he used his eyes and his gut. It was kinda weird, but, for a normal guy, he was right a lot more than she thought he'd be. He had a habit of picking a weak mark from almost a block away. She smirked. Those were the ones who always were dumb enough to lead them to an easy raid. Again, she thanked her lucky stars B never found out how good X was at the whole deal. She would've hated to lose him.
*Yeah, he was a good partner,* She looked at him briefly. *And an even better friend.*
He could almost hear her being introspective again; the handful of Ops plus dinners they shared over the past week plus had given him a slight insight into Faith as a real person, not the façade she liked to show. He scoffed to himself, *like he was one to talk?* Still, he'd gotten used to her somewhat, though she could still throw him for a loop whenever she felt like it. Sure, she was mostly cocky and brash, but sometimes she was sensitive and sincere. And she listened, which for him was a first. He wasn't sure who the real deal was, but he was looking forward to finding out. He smirked.
"Getting anything?" She shook her head.
"A few weak newbies on the edges, nothing big." She shrugged.
He cocked his head. "You wanna check them out, before we head back?"
"Might as well," she switched her hips and sighed, an unconscious reflex action that drove him crazy. *She's a friend,* he repeated to himself, over and over. He regained control.
"Coolness." He began running through potential scenarios in his head.
They moved back to the alley into the shadows, she in front, leading him to the next prey. And again, he appreciated the view. He grinned.
She could feel him watching her as he followed her trail. She'd gotten used to him doing it, hell, she'd gotten used to being stared at since she was 10. She liked it when X did it, though. With him, it wasn't about sex. Well, not entirely, anyway. There was something almost pure and innocent about it, which she appreciated even more after seeing how ruthless he could be. Even now, she knew he was plotting something possibly nasty for whatever they find. And he still found the time to stare at her. She smiled softly, almost losing the trail. She focused again.
There were three of them, none of any real strength. Minions most likely, easy ducks. She smiled again, she might even have time to play. Her mother hated when she played with her food, a random thought that made the idea even more enjoyable.
Wait, she stopped, holding her hand up. He stood next to her, patient. When she really locked on a vamp, she could feel surface emotions, like anger, fear, lust or hunger. She had thought it was just a Slayer thing, until she told Linda about it. Her shock changed her mind very easily. Meeting B confirmed it, knowing she outclassed B easy in that area. Still, she never told anybody, only Linda and X knew. He definitely knew what to do with it, too.
The vamps' mood had shifted again somewhat. She focused in deeper, trying to get a handle. She felt X's hand on her shoulder, communicating his support without words. She relaxed then stiffened, the fog clearing. Her eyes widened.
"They found a snack." They took off, she dashed ahead, trusting him to play follow-the-leader.
"Mom is gonna kill me," she muttered.
She could not believe her luck. It was so stupid, getting stuck late at the public library because of some stupid school project that she didn't even want to do but had to or else her grade would drop big and because she just had to pick something all-brainy- like and stuff she couldn't leave earlier when her friends did. Stupid Willow, she just had stick her stupid nose in, make her feel bad for picking something easy.
And what happens? She tried to hurry and get to the Gallery, maybe bum a lift home, but no, these stupid overbites just had to drop in front of her. They were so obvious they might as well wear capes and have stupid Eastern European accents. And none of them were even slightly cute. She cursed her luck again. *Stupid, Stupid. Stupid.*
She clutched the cross around her neck, a gift from Xander, brandishing it like it was her last chance. *Which, of course, it was. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!*
They grinned at her, knowing she had no shot. Buffy was nowhere to be found, like that was anything new. She was probably at Angel's, drowning in his broodiness. None of the gang was here with her, for her. She fought the need to whimper. Dammit, she was the Slayer's sister. And Dawn Summers wasn't going down without a fight.
She stormed around the corner, seeing the three vamps trapping a young girl. She could hear X a few paces back, bringing up the rear. She accelerated, targeting two, trusting X with the leftovers. She smiled wickedly, before releasing a Xena war cry that brought all the attention to her, where she liked it. She leaped through the air, smashing both feet into the closest one who crashed into the other. She twisted and rolled, using the momentum to land in a crouch. One vamp staggered to his feet.
"Never fear, the cavalry's here." She tossed cavalierly over her shoulder, not even looking at the victim as she staked the fallen vamp and rose to meet the other.
She was so relieved to see Faith she couldn't even speak. She tried to stay behind the Slayer, but Faith was moving too quickly. She felt a hard grip on her shoulder. Her eyes widened. *Great job, Dawn. Just forget about the other vamp, why dontcha?*
"Going somewhere?" He grinned, baring fangs.
"Faith!"
"Dawnie?" She saw Faith whirl around after dusting the last vamp, shocked. Guess she didn't know it was Dawnie the Girl Hostage who needed the rescue. Figures. She could feel the vamp's fingers grazing her throat. That urge to whimper was getting a lot stronger.
"Back down, Slayer. Or your little friend will pay."
Faith's eyes blazed. Then her face changed to her normal bad-ass smirk.
"Don't worry Dawnie, we got it handled." *We? Well. that's great, Faith, but you and me ain't gonna cut it.*
The vamp laughed. "We?"
An ice-cold voice echoed behind the vamp. "She means me."
He watched the Hostile start to turn around. The surprise had loosened his grip on Dawn, just slightly. It was enough. He snatched the arm off Dawn's shoulder, smashing his elbow into his nose., shoving him away. As the hostile staggered back, bleeding profusely, Xander placed himself between Dawn and the vampire. He nodded reassuringly at Dawn, who smiled brightly. He turned back to the Hostile.
"You touched Dawnie." He smiled coldly. "I'll have to make it hurt before you die." He put his stake away; he wanted this leech to scream.
The vamp roared, rushing forward with a sloppy mid-level sidekick that was just a touch below blindingly obvious. Xander almost sighed before slid-stepping left, parrying the kick up and away, then stomping the inside of the support knee, snapping it easily. The hostile screamed, reaching toward Xander with one hand while clutching at his shattered leg with the other. Xander ducked slightly then grabbed and straightened the probing arm, twisted it, and rotated himself halfway before rising fast, meeting the vulnerable elbow-joint with a powerful shoulder-thrust and another twist. To Xander's ears, the next scream was drowned out by a snap- crackle-pop that the Soldier categorized as a compound elbow fracture followed by a severe shoulder separation. He grinned, before finishing his spin, now completely behind the vamp. He gripped the Hostile's head and jaw, executing a vicious opposing push-pull that snapped the neck with an audible crack. He released him, knowing the injuries put him was out of commission for at least half a day, time he wouldn't be allowed to have. Xander glanced down at the vamp, who lay twitching every so often at his feet. He scoffed.
"Amateur."
She was still trying to pick her jaw off the floor. That was Xander! Her Xander! The same guy who babysat her, watching goofy movies and telling the funniest stories. Just destroying some vamp because he had the audacity to touch her! If she wasn't already crushing him something fierce, she would be now. Especially with the way he looked so yummy in black.
"Wicked nice work, stud." Faith speaking with that breathy voice she so wanted to copy.
"Well, the fact that he was an idiot helped much." Classic Xand-man, can't take a compliment.
"So, why ain't the idiot dust yet?" He turned to Dawn.
"I thought I'd let Dawnie handle it." He held out a stake. She could see they had matching smirks on their faces. *Oh, how cute? *
She finally found her voice. "S-say what?" *Really cool, Dawn.*
Their smirks turned to grins. *What is this? Olympic synchronized satisfaction?* "Well, he wanted to kill you, now you get to kill him, it's. . . poetic." Xander shrugged adorably.
"O-okay?" *Look, Dawn, the scare's over, you're gonna have to get some cool here soon or else this could be ugly. Or uglier.*
"Catch." He tossed her the stake, she fumbled it a bit, but congratulated herself for not dropping it. Wow, her first staking! This is gonna be so cool! She walked forward, clutching the stake tightly. The vamp was still twitching there. It reminded her of those nature specials she saw in science class, when they pull fish out of water and it would flop on the deck. She still couldn't believe Xander wrecked a vamp for her. She grinned.
She stood there for a moment, looking for something appropriately witty for her audience. But the vamp's eyes were rolling back in his head, and Faith was her normally cool self, tapping her foot mock-impatiently with an amused look. Xander just had his head tilted, like a puppy. *A bad puppy. A dangerous puppy.* She just grinned brightly before staking the vamp, who looked almost relieved it was over. So was she, for that matter. She giggled, for no reason except to release tension. *Her first vamp!* She started hopping in a circle, still giggling. She could hear them laughing at her, but she just didn't care.
*Well, Baby D dusted her first vamp.* She smiled, satisfied. She always dug Dawnie, not nearly the stick in the mud B could be. And the fact she was a part of this "first" made her feel special.
"Go Dawnie." She smiled proudly. "Staking your first evil bloodsucker." She winked. Dawn continued her dance of joy, obviously preening. Xander just sat back, like a proud papa or something, taking in the scene. Dawn stopped her celebration and stared at X
"Xander, you freak!" She hit him on the shoulder. "When did you learn how to fight?"
"Here and there," he shrugged non-committally.
"Wait," Dawn held her hand up, pensively. She turned to Faith. "You taught him right? Because that cow of a sister of mine sure wouldn't."
"Dawn," he spoke sharply. He tried to keep Baby D from dissing the Slayer-Princess too often. Not that Faith cared one iota. Dawn looked only partially contrite.
"And besides," Xander glanced at her briefly before looking back at Dawnie. "Faith did show me a thing or two." Huh? What's he playing at? She stared at X, but his expression shushed her. Dawn turned back to Faith, who nodded and shrugged.
"Yeah, I showed him something all right," she turned to X and smirked. "Maybe not what I want to show him, yet. But yeah, a lil' sumthin' to help him out." Dawn giggled mischievously.
Xander rolled his eyes and smiled. "So anyways," obviously changing the subject. "Could you do me a favor, though, Dawn Patrol?"
Dawn blushed, glanced at the ground before lifting her gaze again. "Anything, Xand-man." She blushed again.
"Can you keep that between the three of us?" Oh, that X is a slick one. She shook her head, fighting back a smile.
Dawn preened again, "One condition?" Dawn sent a blend of their own smirk back at them. Faith and X stared at each other for a moment, lips twitching. They turned back to Dawn and each raised an eyebrow, the same eyebrow, almost in unison.
Dawn giggled. "Do you practice that?"
They both chuckled. "Yeah, Baby D, in between kicking ass and taking names." She smirked right back at Dawn. *Ya can't top the master, young Grass-hopper.*
"The condition?" X asked, still grinning.
Dawn looked at him, then looked at her, then looked at him again. She sighed dramatically, dragging out the moment. Faith rolled her eyes while X just shook his head.
"Okay, fine." Dawn paused. At that exact moment, Dawn's stomach growled, loudly. She blushed madly while X and Faith busted out laughing.
"Lemme guess," Faith chuckled. "Dinner?"
Dawn was so embarrasses, all she could do was nod.
X regained control. "Lucky for you, Dawn Patrol." He glanced at Faith again. "We know just the spot."
Secure Satellite Telephone Call transcript:
From Subject (Mars) to Subject (Kodiak)
January, Same Night, 1999.
Joined in Progress
K: You know about the new situation?
M: I heard. ThreatCon?
K: The damage is malleable. We do lose an Eye though
M: Affirmative, Janus is presently incoming. He's a strong asset.
K: Agreed. He has been good for a lot of valuable Intel lately, he's a sly one.
M: True, true. Well Jack will just have to watch himself, then.
K: ...(snort) ....
M: By the by, Nemo has been putting on quite a show as of late.
K: Yeah, he flashed a lot of potential during the summer, more than what we normally get from an Eye, but from what I've seen, he's improved a lot, especially since he got field sanctioned.
M: Improved enough to warrant the Next Phase? In your opinion?
K: You already know what I think, Boss. Granted, Normals don't usually have a shot to be One of The Ten, but Nemo has a chance. He's got something special to him, a Spark.
M: Agreed, I saw that a while back. I will set up a Contact soon, see how it plays out.
K: You want me to handle it. He and I already have a history.
M: Hmm. . . I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll handle it myself.
K: Sure?
M: Affirmative. It's actually past due, really. Besides, we need you for an Op. After all, we did lose an Eye, as you previously stated. We need to monitor any after-effects from the inside. I'll send you the Mission Parameters shortly.
K: No problem. Be in touch.
M: Good Hunting
*Disconnect* ... *Disconnect*
"Hey Boss." Mr. Trick stood in the doorway to the Mayor's Office. "Got some news about our 'Lone Ranger' friend." Wilkins looked up from his dinner and smiled broadly. He placed a flask of blood-wine on the table.
"Please, come in, have a seat, have a drink, and do tell. But wipe your feet first." Trick complied, before fixing his beverage. He took a long sip.
"That hit the spot. Well, anyway, one of my LT's saw the Vamp Meet Massacre. He said it was two-man team, boy and girl. The operation was smooth as silk, cold, real professional-like. Easy in, easy out. He couldn't be sure, the holy water fog kept him from getting too close, but he believes the girl was the brunette Slayer, Faith." Trick shrugged. "Sounds like a good theory, but that SWAT bullshit normally ain't her bag."
"Language, Trick. Obviously she's learned some new tricks, probably from our Mystery Man. No ID on 'Nemo' then?" He flashed air quotes.
"Not yet, Boss," Trick leaned in and smiled coolly. "But it's only a matter of time."
Wilkins beamed. "Excellent, excellent." He wiped his hands. "Oh, Sorry. Where are my manners?" He offered a small packet to Trick. "Wet nap?"
"The prophecy has passed, though I cannot say it has been thwarted. Slayer Buffy faced the Master and she died, as it had been previously foretold. Yet, she lived and subsequently killed the Master. That is not to say that I am not happy with the turn of events. Slayer Buffy alive is a good thing, of course. It is just that the Codex has never been wrong even in the slightest. The prophecies were always very clear and precise, always cut and dry. I am going to have pay attention to all the factors involved in this occurrence, though, I am not exactly sure what I am looking for. Or whom."
From the Journal of Sir Rupert Giles,
Field Watcher to Slayer Buffy
Watchers Council Archives
May 27, 1996
"Tip top, really." Xander stood a bit unsteady atop the trash pile. He dusted himself off some more, thanking any deity listening that there was nothing sticky, wet, stinky or alive in there with him. "If anyone sees my spine lying around, please try not to step on it."
Buffy glared, with that peculiar mix of concern and condescension that was so her. "Xander, one of these days you're gonna get yourself hurt."
"Or killed." He could hear the extra venom Faith put on that. Damn, he'd forgotten how much she hated it when he played stupid. He tried to send her a slightly apologetic look.
"Or both," Buff spoke again. He raised an eyebrow. "You know, with the pain and the death." He just tilted his head and nodded, well-versed in Buffyspeak. She was beginning to rally anyway. "You shouldn't be leaping into the fray like that. You should be... fray-adjacent." He noticed Giles slightly rolling his eyes at her use of English.
"Excuse me?" He even managed to look offended. "Who, at the crucial moment, distracted the lead demon by allowing her to pummel him about the head?"
"Yeah, that was really manly," Faith said, again with the venom. "The way you shrieked and all." He smirked.
"I'll think you'll find that it was more of a bellow." Her mouth did that sexy twitch it did when she was trying to fight a smile. He winked slightly. She redoubled her effort, forcing it into a smirk. Apology offered and accepted, though it was kinda funny that they could have a sorta mini-argument in front of people without anyone noticing. *Yeah, funny in a sad way.*
He could hear Buffy, Willow and Giles continuing their discussion about demon disposal, tabling the Bitch-at-Xander session for the moment. He sighed. There were times he was genuinely tired of being the butt-monkey of the group. But, it was a choice he made some time ago, and he was going to have to stick to it, for now.
They began leaving the cave, Buffy and Willow in front, Faith slightly trailing them, he and Giles bringing up the rear. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Giles turning toward him.
"Xander," he began. "I do think it's best if you keep to the rear of the battle in the future." Giles stared at him, serious for a moment. "For your own sake."
Xander being Xander, decided this was a proper moment to be flip. "But gee, Mr. White. If Clark and Lois get all the big stories, I'll never be a real reporter." Giles raised his eyebrows. "Jimmy Olson jokes are pretty much gonna be lost on you huh."
Giles turned to the front once more. "Sorry." He did get some sincerity in his voice.
"It's okay," Xander replied. Giles nodded.
"Buffy, Willow, I would like to discuss something with you both for a moment." The girls slowed some, allowing Giles to catch up. Faith took the opening to drop back to X. She lightly jabbed his shoulder, not enough to hurt, but enough to make him stumble. He grimaced, fighting to keep the others from noticing, which, of course, they didn't. Xander glared at her.
"I told you that every time you played stupid I was gonna pop you one, you brought this on yourself." He rolled his eyes.
"I thought you forgave me earlier." He batted his eyes in a mock pout that made her chuckle.
"I might've, doesn't mean I have to like it." She turned to him. "Dammit, X. You and me both know you could've done a lot of damage if you were the you I know in there. But no, you had to let that big demon bitch-slap you all over creation just 'cause you 'can't fight.'" She exhaled. He laid a hand on her shoulder; it calmed her, though she refused to think of why a simple gesture like that from him had that effect. She was quite happy in her Egyptian river, thank you.
"Believe me, Faith, it looked far worse than it felt. I just had to make it look bad." She scoffed, he sighed. "I wouldn't mind cutting loose every once in awhile." He looked at her, the serious look she was used to getting from Commander-Xander, as she thought of him. "But there's a bigger picture here that I'm not aware of just yet." He shrugged. "Until I am, it's better to play the fool, the weakling, because it's what everybody expects." He dropped his hand from her shoulder; she ignored the slight ache it's absence caused.
She could understand his reasoning, although what he might be hinting at was beyond her guess. Unlike B, she realized people had a right to some privacy and she trusted him, a rarity for her. She didn't tell him everything. She knew that he'd tell her when he was ready. She just hoped he wasn't gonna betray her, like what Jeeves did to B. Speaking of the Slayer-Princess...
"I just don't like how she treats you." That was a major part of it for her, at least. B didn't know how lucky she was to have the friends she did. And to have a close friend like him and treat him how she did. It was spitting in the face of blessing, in Faith's view. That was just compounded by the fact that X would risk his life for B without question.
He shrugged. "That's just par for the course," dismissing it simply. He grinned at her boyishly. "Besides, gives me a chance to play at acting." He tilted his nose up into the air, peering down at her out of the corners of his eyes. "After all, I am a man of many hidden talents." He intoned in a very snooty-sounding voice.
She snorted, raising an eyebrow. " Oh, really," she really enjoyed her time with him. "Like what, stud."
He cocked his head, smirked. "How the hell should I know?" He shrugged. 'They're all hidden." He winked, grinned again.
Her laugh echoed, carrying up to the other group. They all turned around, curious. B and Jeeves shook their heads, B added her little eye-roll, but Red glared at her for a little longer than necessary, before turning with her usual self-righteous pout.
"Hmph," Red said, sulking even more.
Faith laughed harder.
"I have some news," A voice intoned from the shadows. They had been in the middle of the post-battle briefing. G-Man was in the middle of a lecture when Deadboy just lurked in from the stacks.
"Angel," Buffy breathed Deadboy's name like it was all Hope itself. Xander fought the urge to scowl. He wasn't jealous, not anymore, not after everything that happened. It just reminded him how Buffy saw the world in cute little boxes. Demons = Bad, Souled = Good. The world was never quite that simple; his parents taught him that.
"Buffy," his response was guarded, yet some emotion still leaked out.
"Angel, you have some information." G-Man interrupted them before they could start reenacting Shakespeare. He looked annoyed in his normal British way; he always looked annoyed when interrupted in the middle of his speech. It didn't help that it was Angel who did the interrupting.
Angel cleared his throat. "I'd heard some rumors," he avoided Giles' eyes. "About a new element in town." He seemed to steady himself. "There was a... massacre during a big secret meeting at a nest a few days back ago. About 25 vampires were killed."
"Doesn't sound like bad news to me." Faith spoke up for the first time in awhile. He realized she was trying to protect him; it was kinda sweet.
"I would have to agree with Faith." Giles stated.
"So would I, normally. 25 vampires does mean less for us to have to deal with." Angel gathered his thoughts before continuing. "But this might not be a normal case."
"Why, Angel?" Buffy asked, still looking a little like Lois Lane looking at Superman. Ever since that Christmas snow thing, she acted like last year never happened and they were still happy together. Xander grimaced.
"The rumors I am hearing point in two directions, and both aren't really good news." Deadboy responded. "One, a few sources said there was some kind of note left at the scene. The hunters knew about the secret meeting in advance. They believe that some competitor hired a hit, from maybe the Tarakan Order." Everyone, except Faith, was silent in memory of their last encounter. Faith raised her hand.
"Um, for those of us who wasn't around and didn't get the crib notes, what are Tarakans." Giles straightened for the moment.
"They are an Order of Demonic Assassins, dating back to King Solomon. Cold, vicious, relentless killers." G-Man turned to look at Buffy. "Spike sent them after Buffy last year in an attempt to distract us, at the least, while he empowered his mate Drusilla. We had many... " He paused, trying to find the words. "Close calls, as you would say." Faith seemed to absorb that, before turning to Buffy.
"Wicked Bad, huh B?"
Buffy shuddered involuntarily. "The wickedest."
Xander felt this was a good moment to speak. "But if the Tarakans are assassins, then who is the mar... target supposed to be?" He caught himself before slipping into military jargon. "And last time there were, like, droves of them, right?" He wanted to throw them off that Tarakan "bad guy" track; last thing he needed is to be asked to help Buffy track himself.
"Yeah, he's, um, right." Willow piped up. "They seemed to be coming from all over the place after Buffy." Giles and Angel looked pensive.
"Yes, that is a good point," Giles said. He turned to Angel. "You did tell Buffy before that you'd noted some rumors of a potential independent, hunting vampires in town some time ago. Do your sources have any idea who the independent is or whom his target might be, if we are in fact dealing with the Order."
Angel shook his head. "No, that's what had them confused. It's been just random before. This was the first attack of real consequence in the power structure." He sighed. "Nobody knows who the hunter is. The only thing they even know now, thanks to that taunt, is that he calls himself Nemo."
"Oh, that's funny." Willow scoffed. "Our hunter guy's name is Latin for nobody." She rolled her eyes and giggled. "How cute."
Xander saw Faith turn sharply to him out of the corner of his eye. He sighed internally. When she'd asked about the name before, he'd told her it was kinda like a nickname his father called him. Which was true, one of his father's favorite things was calling him names. He requested it when he joined up, to remind himself of where he came from, what he'd been through. And, as Kodiak told him, sometimes the best heroes are the ones you don't see.
"Doesn't sound like much of an assassin to me." Xander said, trying to nudge the discussion along so he could hear the second rumor. He saw Faith's eyes soften, before she sighed, letting it go, for the moment at least.
"I would agree, Xander," Giles cleaned one of his lenses. "The actions do not really match the Order's history that well. We could be mistaken, however, as it could be some kind of misdirection or feint. I will do some research just to be certain, in any case." She watched Jeeves look to Fang, albeit reluctantly. She hoped X had nothing to do with that Order, for both their sakes. "What about the second rumor, Angel?"
Angel took a deep breath, the action was surprising because, for one thing, he didn't need it, and for another, Fang stalling normally meant bad news. "The other rumor is that the hunter might be a member of the Ten." His answer drew blanks around the table, though X's blank face was a little false, and a hearty gasp for Giles. Everyone looked at Giles in surprise.
"You are not joking, are you?" The shaken intensity of Giles' voice served to help unnerve the rest of the group.
"I only wish I was, Giles." The nervousness in Angel's voice racketed the tension up even furthur. Buffy found her voice first.
"Uh, Hello, guys, um... What are 'The Ten,' and, like, why are you two so totally wigged?"
Fang deferred to Jeeves, who answered, after cleaning his glasses thoroughly. "The Ten are legend, Buffy." The seriousness of his voice was matched only by the awe in the undertone. "An alliance of Warrior Elite, the 'ten best' as it were. Extremely ruthless, dangerous; incomparable beings capable of displays of martial prowess like this world has never seen." He paused, collecting himself.
"What kind of Demons are they?" Faith asked. She watched X carefully out of the corner of her eyes. He was looking at Giles inquisitively, a little too inquisitively.
"No one is sure exactly what they are, Faith." Jeeves responded.
"So, what, like no witnesses?" Willow asked. "Whose side are they on?"
"Well," Jeeves paused. "They've been known to attack Demons, mostly. One old myth said it was one of them who originally slayed Acathala and dismembered the Judge."
"So, they are good guys then." X said, looking like an eager student. Maybe he's just a fan? It was kinda funny; she'd gotten used to reading him, and yet, in other ways, he was an absolute mystery.
"Hmm, they have fought evil creatures, but they've been also known to take out humans as well. There was even an old council myth that they were responsible for the Battle of Midnight."
"I think I speak for every one when I say, huh?" She congratulated herself for her restraint in not kicking his foot under the table; she hated his "dumb act."
"The Battle of Midnight was a pitched battle in the early medieval era between the Council and an unknown adversary. All that is known today is that the Council was completely destroyed for a time and the Slayers of the period went missing. That's why they call it the Battle of Midnight, because the Council's light went out for over half a century." He shook himself for a beat. "No one knows exactly who the opponents were; after all, almost everything was destroyed, but many council historians believe it was the Ten."
"I've known some demons in my time who heard things, told scary 'ghost' stories." Fang said solemnly, leaning on the back of a chair. "To demons, the Ten are even bigger boogymen then even the Slayer." He took another deep breath. "All that's really known is that they are silent, fast and incredibly deadly, and no demon wants to cross paths with them. If this town does have one here, and its confirmed, only the hardcases won't clear out in a hurry."
"They don't sound so bad to me. I wish we did have a couple around, make life easier." Faith said.
"But they killed Watchers... " Willow's eyes were bugged out. X just shrugged.
"After that whole Chrysanthemum thing, watchers ain't looking all that saintly to me anymore, except our favorite Brit." Nice shot, X.
"Yeah, and double on the favorite Brit part." B interjected.
Jeeves snorted, "Well, thank you, and that is Cruciamentum." He peered over the group. "In any case, the fact remains that in either case, we can't be sure what side this hunter will fall on. I will begin doing some research, and you can go home for the evening. Maybe, I may have something new by the morning." Everyone started to gather up their stuff while Angel began moving toward the stacks.
"Hey Angel, walk Will and me home?" B asked. Fang nodded, fighting a slight half-smile. B turned to Jeeves. "Well, whoever he is, he's killing vamps right? Can't be all bad, huh?"
"Quite right, Buffy, but you can never be too careful. You never really know what someone might be capable of." Jeeves headed toward his office. Faith wondered exactly what he meant by that. She noticed X trying to catch her eye on the way out; he flashed a quick hand signal. She nodded in agreement. He'd meet her at the diner in about an hour, so they could do a East-side sweep. *After all, he had a new shiny rep to maintain.* She laughed under her breath.
"May I speak to M, please?"
"Certainly 013, hold a moment, I will connect you."
"...silence..."
"Good evening, 013."
"Top of the morning to you, M. You received my last report."
"Yes, I did, 013, and I must say that not too many of us were pleased with the outcome."
"I didn't really have a choice in the manner, M. If I had not acted in the manner I did, the scenario likely would have been far worse and far more damaging."
"I will admit that there was a distinct possibility of that, 013, however you did take a majorly big risk. You've lost a large number of your contacts inside."
"I realize that, M, and I am attempting to account for that, but the alternative was no better than murderous betrayal."
"Yes, and she still almost died, from what I gathered."
"...sigh..." "I did the best that I could, and she is more than just an asset to me."
"I do understand, 013, that is one of your virtues. She is as loyal to you as you are to her. We do appreciate that, and realize it makes the other factor somewhat negligible."
"Still, I was told when I mentioned just this scenario occurring, that we were going to be able to neutralize that possibility before it even became an issue."
"And that was in the plans, however things did not work out that way."
"... scoff ..." "Well, that was just bloody obvious, wasn't it?"
"Don't be snide, 013. It doesn't become you."
"... chuckle ..." "Of course not, M. You know that I leave any behavior of that sort to your precious double-0."
"... sigh ..." "Even though it is night where you are, 013, over here, it is still a little too early in the morning for your brand of wit."
"I know that, M, that's why I enjoy sharing this special time with you."
"... snort ..." "Quite. Well, anyway, I want to congratulate you on your efforts thus far, 013. Good show."
"Thank you, M. That is all I wanted to provide after all. Is there anything else?"
"No, not at the moment."
"Well, if you do not mind, M, I'll take my leave then. As you mentioned, it is rather late on this side of the Atlantic."
"Of course, Mr. Giles. Good day, or rather good night."
"Good day, M."
Giles hung up the secured line in his office, cut off the lights and headed for the door. He finished researching for now. As he'd thought, the situation did not match the normal Tarakan M.O. It looks like the second guess is far more likely. Things must be coming to a head then, he thought ruefully, for one of Them to make an appearance. As soon as he reached home, he was going straight to bed. Something told him tomorrow was going to be a long day.
"Catch ya later, Stud." She waved, yawning as she opened her room door
"See you tomorrow, Faith." He ignited the V-Max's engine, enjoying the purr.
His large bike rode smoothly out of the motel lot. It had been an interesting night. After meeting up, they rode to a couple hot spots on Eastside. Wasn't much in the way of vamp activity, but there were some situations that asked for their brand of attention.
It was a nice workout for him, after playing the patsy all night. She was kinda tired, though who wouldn't be after playing with those Jhe demons earlier. They decided to cut it short, feeling they made a solid dent for one night. They killed enough vamps that the demons would notice a difference.
She teased him about his "rep" but didn't really ask much. He was surprised, maybe he schooled his reaction enough to the mention of the Ten that she didn't notice. Or maybe she was giving him a pass. That was most likely it. Even though they hadn't really known each other long, they did have mutual trust.
They both had a habit of keeping secrets, he noted; they were very much alike that way. And they respected each other. She gave him his privacy, like he did for her. Neither of them felt obligated to share, so anything that was shared was seen as a gift.
Still, he would love to bring her in. He wasn't really aware of the respect the Ten had going for them. Kodiak came to lowly, little old Xander Harris after all. Kodiak respected him, befriended him, then made him an offer he knew Xander couldn't refuse. He smirked. He pictured that bear of a man starring in The Godfather.
Xander knew that he wanted to help, to do the right thing. The Ten was a way he could do that on a scale he never really considered before, but they wanted him and it felt right.
And he wanted to share that with Faith. He knew, like himself, she never really belonged anywhere before. The closest he came to belonging was with Jesse and Wills, the three musketeers. After that, maybe when Buff first came to the Sunnydale but he'd been on the outside in for awhile now, probably since Angelus. The fluking thing didn't help either.
He sighed, hitting the accelerator. He cruised, still keeping his eyes peeled for something before he headed for home. They were debating the possibility, a Slayer double agent. He just wanted his partner to be full-time. It'd only been a few weeks, but they worked great together. And she was just as good a friend.
"CRASH!"
Sounds of a struggle from his left interrupted his internal monologue. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a fight happening in an alley as he passed by. He whipped the bike around, pointing toward the battle. He idled at the alley entrance to briefly recon. He wished he had Faith with him, for a moment, but quickly dismissed the thought as irrelevant.
Not very wide area, still, just enough room to operate. Xander noticed a grocery bag near the edge of the entryway. Shrugging, he turned his attention toward the battle. He could make out several growling sounds and pained whimpers; from the looks of it, a pack of eight vampires were attacking three people, 2 guys and a girl. They had the humans pinned to the rear of the alley.
The younger man, about Xander's age, seemed freaked in the back. It didn't matter much though. The older man, wearing a long trench, seemed to be holding them off pretty easily, though, curiously. The hostiles couldn't even get close to him before he moved, attacking swiftly with more skill and grace then Buffy or Faith on their best day, countering anything they could've tried. He had no weapons though, which meant he was pretty much stuck on defense, keeping the vampires away from the younger pair.
Xander revved his engine. Everyone turned to him.
"Is this a private party?" He asked jovially.
A familiar voice responded. "Oh, no, please feel free to crash." The vampires were a little stunned by the whole idea of food having a conversation.
He grinned in his helmet. "I was hoping you'd say something like that." He revved the bike, hit the gas and raced down the alley. He quickly whipped the bike sideways, pulling to a sliding stop that smashed into a handful of them who couldn't evade. He killed the engine, letting the bike fall, as he stepped away, stake in hand.
He quickly staked one fallen vamp as another moved in his direction. Xander greeted him with a stomp to the nerve cluster in his foot and a swift, short hook to the jaw with his brand-new, blessed brass-knuckled gloves. The vamp reeled, giving him enough time to stake him. Man, I do love working the Ten, Xander chuckled internally.
He staked a prone hostile whose leg was broken earlier when Xander's rear wheel smashed through it. Turning, he looked for more targets, but was greeted by a very pleasant, yet shocking, surprise.
The man who was able to provoke a holding action earlier, now had went on the attack. Somehow, Mystery Guy had pulled a sword from nowhere and simply began to decimate any hostile in his path. He couldn't make out his identity yet, the shadows and the man's fluid yet fast movements prevented that. There were only two vamps left. Xander just stopped and watched, he even felt tempted to take notes.
The last vamp growled low, moved to lunge at Mystery Guy from behind while he was busy slashing one almost to pieces. Before Xander could think to shout a warning, Mystery Guy beheaded the one in front of him, turned right, whirled the blade in one motion and sliced the hostile's left leg off at the thigh clean. He then continued the blade's momentum around and slashed upward viciously, quickly beheading the vampire as he fell. To Xander, it was like mystery guy made Zorro's signature in 3-D, and then decided to kill two vampires while he was at it. Xander clapped slowly, in genuine appreciation.
"Nice work, Obi-Wan."
The man looked at him, the shadows still covered his face, but Xander could see him grin and shake his head ruefully, as he put the blade away into his trench? Huh? As Xander thought to ask how, the man stepped more into the light. Xander gaped.
"Uncle Rory?" How in the hell was that possible? His jaw dropped.
"Hello, Alexander." Rory greeted him with that controlled cool that was always so him. "You might catch some dust in your mouth if you don't close it." Rory paused, acknowledging Xander's silent question. "Let's get this couple on their way, first."
Reflexively, Xander closed his mouth and listened, used to following Rory's requests without question. Whenever he was around, Uncle Rory was the guy that taught him how to be a man. From just talking to playing sports to learning to shave to learning to drive. Hell, Uncle Rory was the one who even explained about wet dreams to a worried 11-year old. And now, to find out the man Xander basically idolized, was a swash-buckling action hero, was a bit much.
Rory handled the couple easily, who were scared out of their wits. Xander didn't say much, he was still in too much shock. He picked up his bike, checking for damages, which were none. He looked up and realized they were alone. They walked out of the alley in silence.
Rory leaned over to pick up the bag of groceries, hefting them easily. He turned to face Xander, whose face still formed a silent question.
"You have questions, it would be best if I answer them at my home." Xander nodded, still not trusting himself to speak. Rory sighed. They reached his car, Xander still walking his bike along.
"Alexander, I will tell you everything you need to know," Rory paused, checking his surroundings again very subtly. He smirked coolly. "Or should I call you Nemo?"
"Winning isn't everything, but it sure beats anything that comes in second."
- Paul 'Bear' Bryant
"You understand what needs to happen?" He stood in the shadows, awaiting the response from Jansen, Pappy's appointed advocate. He hated having to repeat himself, but the Boss wanted to ensure that this whole shebang went smoothly. "Most importantly, when?"
"Yes, I do, sir." The response was respectful, yet thoughtful. Just the type needed when speaking with your better. The last advocate that forgot that by addressing him by name was fed to a starving minion. In truth, he didn't really mind actually, but for appearances sake...
"This is a critically important mission, Mr. Jansen," he paused, letting the other man soak that in. "The Boss will be greatly pleased if it comes off without a hitch." He paused again, leading Jansen like a puppet. "However, if things go badly. . ." He trailed off, shrugging for effect.
His night-vision noted the not-quite shudder, enhanced hearing picked up the suppressed gulp. He smirked coldly, The Boss wasn't exactly known for suffering fools gladly. Neither was he, for that matter. Maybe that fear could inspire the necessary results.
"You do not have to worry, sir." Jansen's calm still had an undertone of fear. "Everything is on schedule and will proceed tomorrow night according to plan."
"For your sake," he smirked again, vamping out. "I certainly hope so."
The gulp wasn't so suppressed this time.
"You are wondering just how much do I know?" They sat in his uncle's home office. It was comfortably furnished, designed with casual elegance in mind, in character with the rest of the house. In all the times Xander had visited him, the place had never failed to feel like a home. This feeling he often contrasted with his own house, which instead felt like just simply a place to stay. He shook out of his reverie, and stared at his uncle, nodding succinctly.
"I know that you run with the blonde Slayer." Xander blinked. "I know that you've been hunting on your own, but sometimes have help." Xander gaped, his uncle shrugged. "I also know that you've cast a definitive shadow on the Hellmouth. The word is out about Silent Death riding a black bike. You have a number of people, and demons, either breathing fiery anger and/or pissing in their boots, Nemo." Xander shook his head; his uncle had made the obvious connection. Uncle Rory smiled proudly. "Not bad, especially for one so young."
Xander flushed, never really used to accepting praise well. "Thanks, Unk. But, I mean, what I want to say. . ." He stopped, trying to gather himself.
"'Who am I, really?" Rory said calmly.
He shrugged nonchalantly, masking his concern. "Yeah, that."
"Well, I'll answer that with a question." Rory leaned forward. "What do you think I do for a living?"
Xander's eyes narrowed in thought. "You work as a consultant for a security company, right?"
Rory nodded. "Yes, and no. I do work for a security company; Twilight Security Group, to be precise." He fished out a business card and handed it to Xander. Xander examined the card, casually memorizing all details like he'd been taught. The name sounded somewhat familiar, but not to him exactly. It tugged at the part of his mind where the Soldier resided. He noted the emblem, a sunset montage. Shrugging, he started to hand it back to Rory, who gestured for him to keep it.
"While the company does do simple security, especially personal and corporate security work, their primary purpose is to. . ." Rory looked skyward for a moment. "Make a difference against the 'shadows,' and the boogiemen, you know what I mean?" Xander nodded slowly. Rory continued. "Twilight Security Group is a multinational privately-held paramilitary corporation 'discretely sanctioned' by both NATO and the UN," Xander's eyebrows rose. "To offer member nations, legitimate governments and other institutions accelerated conflict resolution, intelligence, expertise, and intensive training for operations in the paranormal theater."
Xander gaped. "'Discretely sanctioned?' The UN? NATO?"
Rory nodded. "The only reason TSG is not considered 'black,' per se, is because we are totally independent; therefore we answer to no one institution or entity, though we do receive government contracts, quietly, from those in the 'know.'"
He paused, letting that soak in. "Our personnel tend to be mostly former special operations soldiers, intelligence operatives or police officers from various nations; we also do get some civilians who want to help," he smiled. "Such as myself."
Xander goggled.
Rory chuckled sardonically. "You think you and your band of 'misfits' are the only ones who fight the dark?"
Xander snorted. Any illusions he held about that were shattered when he was "introduced" to the Ten. But still. . .
He gestured helplessly toward Rory.
"Me?" Rory looked amused.
"Well, yeah." Xander looked a little chagrined.
"You're not the only one with secrets, young man." Rory playfully waggled a finger.
Xander rolled his eyes. "Obviously." He shook his head ruefully, looked like his real secret was safe. For now. "So, Unk, how long ya been a demon fighter?" He smirked, cocked his head.
Rory snorted at his flippant tone before pausing pensively, turning serious. "Sometimes it feels like forever." He shrugged.
Xander sobered somewhat, "Yeah." He thought of the last three years that felt like a damn eternity. "I know what you mean."
He walked into his apartment. He knew it was a secure building; he knew that before he decided to "rent" it. Still, he checked his surroundings thoroughly, as he'd been trained to do. Finding nothing amiss, he finally relaxed, but not totally. Never totally.
He moved to his office area. He'd only been in town for a short time, but he'd already grown comfortable in his surroundings; his employers excelled at taking care of their people, all their people, unlike some other organizations he knew. This was going to be an unusual operation; fortunately, he had allies in place. Speaking of which. . .
He logged into his system and checked his messages. Hmmm. . . So that what's happening? He'd heard some whispers and did some further checking. That whole debacle is going to end up having some nasty repercussions. He sighed. If the whispers were true, it wasn't as if Rip had much choice, but still. He shrugged, forwarding the info along, with complete trust.
There was one from Jules, talking about a successful operation. He smiled; he was really proud of Jules. To confront and conquer adversity was quite admirable, and for one so young. . .
He checked the time; it was too late for contact. He'd have to touch base with Jules later. He logged out, shut down his system and headed to bed. He was going to be very busy tomorrow. Soon, it will be Showtime.
"Whoa!"
The wind whistled past Xander, serenading him as he sailed through the air, before landing flat on his back with a decisive thud. He laid there, swallowed a groan, sucking oxygen. He wasn't hurt, at least not physically; the cushioned mat, his skill in proper falling, and his uncle's easy control reduced any real chance of that. But his pride and ego was something else. After that display in the alley, he knew that it really should not be a shock, but seeing and feeling are two different things.
"Had enough?" Rory asked lightly.
"Just...." Xander paused, panting. "Getting my second wind." He looked up at him. Rory had the nerve to smile. He scowled, glared at the ceiling. Why he'd asked to spar his uncle in the first place was just baffling.
He realized that since Kodiak left, he had not had any real challenges. He often tended to catch his prey by surprise and, by the time they knew what hit them, they were dust. He had been working with Faith, but the option of sparring had never came up. Plus, he'd never really considered checking himself against a Slayer before. He was glad he didn't now.
The particularly galling part was the fact that he knew Uncle Rory was going on cruise. And he was still lighting Xander up with ease. Xander tried everything, every trick Kodiak or the Soldier 'taught' him, or that he just made up, with no results. He might as well have been fighting a damn ghost.
Rory reached down and extended a hand; Xander accepted it and rose to his feet, a touch slowly. Before he could resume a ready stance, his uncle held up a hand.
"Let's call it a night, Alexander." He flashed Xander a proud smile while pulling off his protective headgear. "You are pretty good, kid."
Xander scoffed, pulling off his own. "I could barely lay a hand on you."
"Well," Rory drawled. "I've also been doing this for longer than you've been alive."
"Point." Xander conceded, albeit reluctantly. Rory chuckled.
"There is more to the art of combat than just simple physical attributes, or even a laundry list of techniques and tactics. You have only begun to grasp that, I see."
Xander nodded, remembering all the physically 'superior' opponents he'd taken out.
He thought back to the hours in the library, watching Buffy or Faith train or spar. He'd seen Kendra fight a couple times, Angel too. Nobody, even the 'uber-warriors,' could match his uncle's level of mastery and skill. And he was human. Kodiak was close, yet, he was another non-slayer, non-vamp, non-'uber.' The 'ubers' are faster, sure; stronger too. But if it came down to a fight between his uncle and any 'uber,' he'd know who he'd pick, after tonight.
"Look, after I get back from that business trip in a day or so, I could start training you, if you wish?"
"You wouldn't mind?" Xander's surprise was apparent.
"Not at all, Alex. It would be a pleasure."
Xander paused for a moment, pensive; he thought about where he was, where he is, where he wanted to be. "That'd be cool, thanks."
Rory waved it off. "Then it's settled," he looked at the clock, noting the late hour. "Your room is still made up, plus you've got some clothes here. Feel free to take a shower and crash." Rory sighed. "I still have a couple of things to do before I leave tomorrow."
"Okay, Unk." Xander started to move toward the exit to the gym room. He paused at the door. "Unk?"
Rory turned to him. "Yes, Alexander?"
"Thanks," he intoned solemnly, with heartfelt subtext. "For everything." They stared at one another for a beat. Rory nodded.
Rory smiled warmly. "Good night Alexander. Pleasant dreams."
Xander smiled back. "Night, Unk."
She was having the dream again.
She knew it, and she knew she knew it. Still, she couldn't do anything about it. Like usual, like always.
All she could do was bear witness. She felt her pain. Watched her eyes bulging in obvious agony. Smelled the blood from the plethora of wounds. Heard the screams for help, for mercy. Heard the pleased cackling of the leeches enjoying the show. Enjoying having the Slayer at their mercy.
"Stop!" "No!" "Please!"
She had screamed her own throat raw by then, trying to break her restraints. She could hear the chains grinding, straining against her unnatural strength backed by a hellishly desperate rage. She was making progress; slow, drawn-out, agonizing progress. And her mother in everyway but blood, her Linda, couldn't afford any delay.
It was building to the moment; the same moment. No matter how many times she suffered through this dream, she never got used to that. She knew she never would.
Kakistos had drawn this particular fun out as long as he'd felt necessary. She could see he was bringing it to an end.
She watched Linda turn toward her, locking her gaze on her young protégé her 'lovechild,' as she called her often. Before, she'd thought it sappy, gave her those icky, fluttery feelings. Now she would've given anything to hear Linda say it again.
"I love you, Faith." Linda's raw throat allowed her to only mouth the words across the distance, yet Faith could hear her voice as if she were whispering in her ear. "Forgive me?"
"Mom!"
She watched Kakistos' jagged hoof drive through Linda's neck, decapitating her with brute force. Linda's head rolled twice, and stopped; her dead eyes glaring at Faith, accusingly.
"You let me die!"
"NO!"
She came awake with a rush, bucking upright in her bed, body coated with a cold sweat. She panted heavily, peeling at her damp t-shirt. Slowly regaining her breath, she looked around, checking her surroundings. She noted the time; too late to be early and too early to be late. She sighed.
For a moment, she flirted with the idea of calling X. She knew that he'd make her feel better, if even just over the phone. She hated to admit that; went against the whole loner thing she had going. But he was the first and only person she'd let in since Linda. Which was a scary idea. She didn't come here for this.
She dismissed the thought, moved to the bathroom. She'd catch a quick shower, wash off the nightmare, then run through some of the old combat exercises and drills Linda showed her. She smirked; if she ever really cut loose on B, it would be just over so quick B's bottle-blonde head would spin.
She sighed again; whenever she used any lessons Linda taught, it felt like Linda was still there. She'd heard that as long as someone remembers you, you would never die.
If she had her way, Linda would be an immortal.
"It has begun, she is still strong, but shaken."
"Excellent work. You are really quite good at this, you know."
"What of the other? Do you wish the same methods?"
"No, not necessary, the reports I am seeing state she is off her game of late. It was the 'Gypsy' that concerned me."
"Why not eliminate both?"
"In due time. I have not waited over a century for my destiny just to let some young hooligans foul everything up."
"I understand, master."
"Of course, Edward. Care for some quiche?"
The sun shined down in the quad. The students mingled, eating and gossiping, some playing catch. From what he could see, it was a normal day at Sunnydale High School. And nobody was all the wiser. He laughed ruefully, appreciating the sense of déja vu. For the second time in 3 years, Xander learned that the world is both much bigger and more complicated then he'd believed. And for the second time, that knowledge came at the hands of a loved one. He sighed; *at least Uncle Rory's not dead, or undead for that matter.*
Still, it beat the alternative. Where the Council was their only known allies, short of his own 'friends.' Now, from what his uncle had told him, there were some real helpful assets out there. They sound like they were on the 'up-and-up.'
It was interesting, though. When he'd asked him why no strike-team had ever taken the Hellmouth, all Uncle Rory did was snort. Seems like certain local big shots didn't 'appreciate' the offer. And without jurisdiction, TSG was stuck, being 'discrete' and all. It made the kind of sense that didn't; it also made him curious. He was going to have to check some sources. He chuckled internally; *Research Boy rides again!*
Tabling the thought for now, he rose from his seat, noticing some football players tossing around a ball. He remembered his uncle's lessons; all his father taught him about sports was how to 'get him a cold one and stay out of the way.' He decided to relax, be a teenaged boy again for once.
"Hey Bobby!" He waved his arms. "Toss me one?"
The star safety turned around, noticed who was calling him. Bobby laughed. They were not exactly chummy, but after Xander saved his life over the summer, they got along okay. Bobby gestured toward the ball, ignoring his friends who implored him not to do what he was about to do. Xander grinned.
The ball sailed through the air, a perfect spiral that was tailing away slightly. Out of the corner of his eye, Xander spotted Cordelia walking into the Quad, looking as gorgeous as ever. The slight distraction caused Xander to take his eye off the pass. When he looked up again, the pass was practically on top of him; he bobbled it badly, flipping into the lap, and lunch, of Jack O'Toole, resident psycho and 20-year old junior.
"Great, just great," Xander mumbled under his breath. "There's no way this will end pretty."
Jack's eyes turned to him with that dim-witted rage they must issue to bullies from birth. *Time to channel Martin Luther King and geek my way out.* He sighed internally. *Murphy's 3rd: Don't look conspicuous, it draws fire. Can't afford any trouble right now.*
"Boy, I'm so sorry." He turned up the geek act. "Bobby's throwing arm is- his arm's like spaghetti. We're all so sad for him; is your lunch okay?"
"What are you, Retarded." Jack looks even more angry. *Great, this peanut-brain is getting riled.*
"No! I mean I had to take that test when I was seven, a little slow on some stuff, mostly math and spacial relations, but certainly not 'challenged' or anything." He looked fearful and submissive. "Can I buy you another soda?"
Jack glared. "I ought to cut your face open."
Xander rolled his eyes, internally. *Damn, this ain't going well. Inject some backbone then cower more?*
"Hey, it was an accident, okay? Cool down."
Predictably, Jack stepped up, obviously itching for a fight. "You wanna be starting something?"
*Here comes the geek.* "What? Starting... like that Michael Jackson song, that was a lot of fun. 'Too high to get over, yeah yeah.' You remember that fun song?"
Xander watched Jack's aggression dim. "I get my buddies together, we're gonna kick your ass till it's a brand new shape. Now get out of here."
Exhaling in obvious, and not-so-obvious, relief, Xander grabbed the ball and left. He tossed it easily back to Bobby, who shrugged. Xander shook his head. Bobby shrugged again and returned to his catch.
"Boy, of all of your humiliations I have witnessed," came a familiarly caustic tone. "That was the latest."
Xander turned to her. "I could've taken him." He said this with genuine sincerity; if he didn't need to stay off the radar, Jack would be in the Nurse's office right now.
"Oh Please!" Cordy bit. "O'Toole would macarame your face. He's a psycho." She paused, looking him up and down. "Which is still cooler than being a wuss."
Xander turned to her; she smirked, itching for a battle of her own.
"It must be hard when all your friends have, like, superpowers. Slayers and witches and werewolves and vampires and you're like, this little nothing." She paused again, her eyes lighting in her perverse merriment. "You must feel like... Jimmy Olson!"
Against his will, he had to laugh. Irony much? "I was just..." He realized what he was about to say and to whom. "Hey, mind your own business." He even mustered some defensive anger into his voice.
"Ohh, hit a nerve?" She was on a roll. "The boy who had no cool."
"I happen to be an integral part of the group. I have a lot to offer." *They just don't know how much.*
"Oh please!" She scoffed.
"I do!" He had some real anger building now. *How dare she? I saved her life, dammit!*
"Integral part of the group," she mocked. "Xander, you're the useless part of the group. You're the Zeppo!"
He stood there for a moment, trying to reign in his anger. She was still hurt from his betrayal and he understood that. Plus, last night made him realize that superpowers were somewhat over- rated. But still, sometimes...
"Cool. Look it up." She points to Jack. "It's something a sub-literate that's repeated 12th grade 3 three times has and you don't."
She turned and walked away, apparently satisfied with her final word.
"There is no part of that, that wasn't fun." She smiled wickedly.
Xander stood there, remembering his deep breathing exercises. It was times like this when having a secret identity really sucked. He chuckled ruefully and walked away.
"And I thought Peter Parker had it rough before."
"Although the day began with our group in very dire straits, we were able to end it quite victoriously. Thanks in large part to Xander's unorthodox stratagems, The Judge was successfully neutralized by Slayer Buffy once more. Not for the first time, the young lad came through for us at the right time to make a crucial difference in the fight. When given the opportunity, he has proven himself to be most capable."
Excerpt from the Diary of Rupert Giles, Field Watcher.
Watchers Council Archives
February, 1998
"Are you ready to share yet?" The voice was calm, almost conversational. Surprising, given the fact that the speaker was grazing a very sharp knife against Eddie's throat. Eddie was scared. Eddie was hurting. Eddie's body was basically warm Jell-O. He'd been roughed up in his time, even by a Slayer, but the guy working him now was a real pro.
It was a part of being a Yahtdan Demon, they were known for info. Some customers paid; others, who lacked the time or interest for a proper negotiation, bullied. It was one reason why he normally maintained a bodyguard. He cast a woeful look at the ferocious yet domesticated Wendigo, currently sleeping soundly on the carpet. He had no idea what this guy, this Cold Blooded Killer in head-to-toe ink-black camouflage, did to him, but the fact that he did it so easily was ominous. Eddie hated ominous.
Killer really seemed to know his stuff. He'd done his homework on the Wendigo, and proceeded to work over Eddie by hitting him where it hurt, badly. Which was kinda surprising because, even with their fairly humanoid look, the anatomy of Yahtdan was different then a human on the inside. Simply put, Yahtdan's major-ouch areas were very different then a human's; Eddie took advantage of that when he could, before. Now, Eddie had been rendered a quivering mess on the floor.
The fact was that the info Killer was looking for was very big time stuff. If it had been something run-of-the-mill, then things never would have got this far; Eddie woulda happily spilled his guts to keep from having his guts spilled. But something this... sensitive? Either way, he'd be a dead demon. It'd be simply a matter of how and when.
"I..." Eddie cursed the tremble in his voice. "I can't tell you that, please?" He almost wailed the last word.
"Are you sure?" Killer rubbed the flat of the blade against Eddie's cheek, slightly tilting it every so often so that the cutting edge broke skin. The blood mingled with the single tear streaks running down Eddie's face. Eddie fought to keep from trembling. He failed.
"Please don't kill me..." Now Eddie sounded broken. He'd been close to death before, one reason why he spent so much on the damn Wendigo. He was a gossiper, not a fighter, dammit!
"If you have nothing of value..." Killer's cold calm trailed off nonchalantly, as if he were squishing an insect. He slowly raised the knife back, and paused, looking at Eddie with perfectly dead eyes. Eddie's eyes widened. Killer shrugged.
Without blinking, the blade seemed to rush forward with terrible speed, like Killer was an extension of the blade and not the other way around. Eddie felt a scream choked off in his throat. He didn't want to die!
"Wai..!!" Killer imbedded the blade into the wall, the razor edge slightly nicking Eddie's throat. Eddie pressed his eyes shut, tried to refuse the urge to look at death still vibrating on his right, tried to swallow back the tears of fear that wanted to leak out. He failed at the last two. Eddie shuddered from his soul.
"You have something to say?" Killer could've been ordering an extra- value meal for all the care his tone implied. Eddie sniffled, tears streaming, trembling like a leaf, almost too scared to be embarrassed. Almost.
Eddie spilled.
He stepped away from the blubbering mass on the floor, contemplating what he'd just learned. It was certainly surprising, if not totally complete.
He looked back at Eddie, thought about giving it another go and dismissed it quickly. One thing he'd learned in this Game is when to say when. And Eddie shared all he knew about any and everything even remotely connected to the subject. He smirked, some of the info might provide a good bargaining chip in the future.
"Thank you, Eddie." He nodded easily. With a bit of sleight-of- hand, he tossed a $1000 bill at Eddie, who flinched as it fluttered down to him. He moved to the window, watching Eddie pick up the bill warily out of the corner of his eyes.
"And next time..." He paused at the windowsill. Eddie looked up, eyes wide.
"Let's not have to do this the hard way?" Eddie nodded like an obedient puppy.
He glided out to the fire escape overlooking the shadowed alley. Taking the steps two at a time, he allowed himself to exhale. It'd been awhile since he'd done something like this, up and active in the field. Good to know he hadn't lost his touch. Simon would be proud.
He reached the roof, and his gear. The Intel he'd gained was very crucial. The Watcher might need to know something about this. And there were ways of contacting him, discretely. He needed to report in first, see what the plan might be. He looked around, checking his perimeter for anything or anybody, especially for those with enhanced hearing.
Satisfied, he turned to face a wall, flipped open his cell-phone, hitting a speed-dial preset. The phone rang once, clicked and went silent. He responded simultaneously with his personal access code and verbal password spoken low but clear. The phone beeped in answer, clicked and went silent again. He knew not to wait for acknowledgement.
"Sir, its Janus. There is a problem."
He was sitting in his office filing paperwork, when his phone rang twice in a low-volume sudden burst of varying pitch. He stilled, surprised. 'Six never called just to shoot the breeze, especially during the "work day."
He checked his immediate surroundings, even though he knew no one was around. The kids were all in class. And there was never anyone else who bothered coming into the Library. He answered the phone before it could ring a second time, hearing silence. He dialed an access code, paused, repeated it, and heard a click.
"What is the situation?"
"Just another normal day on the Hellmouth, Mr. Giles." M's voice calmly responded. Giles sighed.
"Wonderful. Just bloody wonderful."
Xander was sitting in his Spanish class, paying attention to the lecture, yet also trying to finish the homework assignment, when his pocket began vibrating in short bursts, softly. He stilled, put down his pen. He looked around; nobody heard anything. He reached into his pocket, turning the phone off completely. The teacher paused in her lecture, he raised his hand.
"Yes, Xander?" Miss Lopez looked at him, as did everyone else. Miss Lopez was always somewhat nice to him, nicer then most of his teachers at any rate. He ignored Cordelia's steady glaring from his right.
"May I go to the bathroom?" He tried to look sincere.
"Okay, Xander, just hurry back." He left in a rush that was not entirely faked.
He stood in the shadows, waiting to deliver a status update. He could see Wilkins conducting a meeting with an underling. He could be patient. He mastered that skill having to deal with that Outdated, Overgrown Goat. Manipulating things to create the circumstance for his death had been quite satisfying both personally and professionally.
Professionally, being a master vamp did have its kicks. Power, respect, and all the blood you could handle once things got smooth. But being the right hand of the Master of the Hellmouth, well, that was a different breed.
With that, there was a level of subtle elegance. A polished kind of cool that Kakistos, a cheap bastard who wouldn't pop for cable and MJ's 2nd Coming and repeat 3-peat, even though he had more money than several small countries, would never understand, much less possess. A refinement Mayor Richard Wilkins III had in spades. What do you expect to find when the man ran both a city and a Hellmouth for a century?
The underling was finishing up. As he watched the man leave, he turned to see Wilkins acknowledge him.
"Mr. Trick, please do come in and have a seat."
"Ladies, Gentlevamps." The line drew a small polite chuckle; he continued smoothly.
"You know who I am, and who I work for." He paused, confirming their pointed attention.
"You know the plan and the objective. This is your chance to move up the food chain." Again, he paused. "You all pull this off, and truthfully, the sky is the limit."
The 8-pack of vamps applauded. This little band was vicious and nasty, but lacked leadership. With proper leadership, they could become a real force for the organization. Speaking of which...
He gestured to his left, placing his hand on the only other human, and he used that term loosely if not really accurately, in the place.
"Here's your Quarterback for this job. You've worked together before, and this is a good time to get all of your feet wet. And again, this goes well, there will be plenty more jobs and mayhem. Lucrative mayhem."
All of them, including their newly appointed commander, started grinning madly.
Janson smiled back. His job was done. If everything, God willing, goes well, things would be looking up for him as well. His smile turned manically dark with ambition. Very up indeed.
X was laughing. Dawnie was making him laugh. They were all laughing, together.
She took the time to enjoy his laugh, though.
She liked listening to him laugh. She liked watching him laugh.
She didn't mean that goofy, Jim Carrey-like, Fresh-off-SNL type of laugh he used when in "public." To her, that always rang slightly false, like he was projecting and just trying too hard to be what everyone expects. She could never figure out why no one else seemed to notice. It wouldn't be the first thing to pass under their stuck- up radar.
Nope, she meant that easy, sincere chuckle he used when he was genuinely amused. It was cool and wicked smooth, like a sweet invitation that just reaches out and draws you in close.
Like everything in that special place was 5 x 5.
She liked being invited to that special place.
Lately, it felt like she was practically paying rent there. It was both comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. She was never good at intimacy; she knew this, accepted it, and embraced it. With only one exception. Maybe two.
Internally, she sighed. *I guess that nightmare about Linda must've went deeper than I thought.*
She noticed X noticing her, narrowing his eyes, like he was aware of her momentary distress. She could practically hear his voice in her head, asking if she was okay. Against her will, a half- smile twitched its way onto her face. *Am I that transparent?*
She shook her head barely a fraction, dismissed his concern, smirked. He nodded half a touch, shrugging, Baby D sipped her soda, with a nonchalance that she just couldn't quite pull off. That half- smile blew into an easy chuckle, one X shared. Big Sis would've never caught that, much less "reacted" almost perfectly. Baby D just shrugged, as if to say 'gotta love me,' grinning.
She really liked Dawnie. When X told her he got Mrs. S's permission to take Junior Summers out for dinner instead of ordering a pizza during his night-o-babysat, she'd been thrilled. She was smart as a whip, funny, cool for her age and was going to be blazing hot in a few tics. Definite future comp for her spot as the baddest chick in the 'Dale.
She'd hung with Dawnie every now again, Christmas being most memorable, but since that night a few weeks back when they saved her life, they'd both taken to spending even more time with her. She felt like an honest-to-God big sister for the first time in her life. It was a feeling she found much easier to deal with then her feelings for X.
And still, here they all were, just swapping stories and having a blast.
Forgetting about the dark coming tonight. Forgetting about what tonight might hold. Forgetting about the way she always feels safer, better, when X is near her.
Just being cool. Just being happy. Just being.
*When did I get so frickin' introspective?*
She shrugged to herself, took another swig of her soda, got ready for her turn.
"So I'm chasing him under the rafters, right."
Faith was smirking; He was grinning; Dawn Patrol was laughing, anticipating the punch line in advance.
He could listen to her husky voice all day.
Especially when her voice has that happy sparkle underneath it. Like that loner weight has been lightened a bit and she can relax somewhat. He likes hearing it. Likes what it might mean. That she's beginning to trust him, if only a slight bit. He grabbed a fry, engrossed in her anecdote.
"I can hear the game still going. And I'm getting really pissed, cause it's the 9th inning and the Sox are down by 2 and here I am, stuck chasing a Goddamn bloodsucker underneath the frickin' Green Monster, which is not a demon, just a giant wall, by the way." She swigged her drink again, quickly, before she continued. Both Dawn and he were listening close. He could see she was trying to watch her language for the most part in front of Dawnie.
"So finally, I corner the dumbass, we start with the hard knocks and all. I kick his scrawny ass into two new shapes."
"Cause you're Faith." Dawn says with not just a little hero worship.
"Got that right, Baby D." Faith responds proudly. He stays quiet, just enjoying the whole bit.
"So, I'm about to introduce him to a piece of Home Depot's finest, and, all of a sudden, a huge long cheer erupts from the crowd." She shakes her head, chuckling.
"Oh my god," he said, already seeing some of what's coming. He tried not to laugh. She mock-scowled at him anyway. He laughed harder. Dawn still looked a bit confused.
"What?" Faith holds up her hand, gesturing for patience.
"So the loudspeaker announces what happened: 3-run homer, Sox win." He and Dawn both laugh, Faith chuckles for a bit. "I cheer, still mad for missing it though. The leech groans. I look down, like 'What?' Know what he says?" She takes another sip, dragging out the moment.
He began tapping his foot loudly. Dawn snorted, laughing. Faith fought a smile, narrowed her eyes. She looked under the table at it, like it was a bug. She stepped not soft but not hard onto the foot, trapped it there. He raised an eyebrow, cocked his head. She matched him. The three of them laugh again. Neither of them felt a need to move their feet.
"So, crowd's screaming, everybody going nuts, I'm about to send this vamp to the great dust-buster in the sky so I can celebrate, and he's whining and groaning all sudden-like. 'What?' I say. 'I'm a Yankees fan,'" mocking the vamp's 'woeful' voice.
They busted out laughing again. She paused, continued. "I ask him, shocked, 'From Boston?' 'Born and bred' he says. I'm like 'What?' I hit him extra hard with the blunt end first three times, then slammed the stake home. Wished I coulda dusted him twice. Frickin' Frontrunner."
Again, they laughed. He could picture the whole thing. He always liked learning a little bit more about Faith's past, even just as an anecdote. Filling out more of that puzzle wrapped in an enigma covered in a conundrum that was Faith.
Faith ate more of her fries; started another short story X already heard during a stake-out. Dawn was enthused though.
He did like watching her connect with Dawn. The two of them have such a vibe going, people often thought that Faith was Dawnie's older sister. Which didn't say much for the Buffster, who never really seemed to want to be around her family. He sighed. One thing he knew was that family, especially a good family, is important.
But Dawn and Faith seemed to have really started to bond. Just like he and Dawnie did when he visited them often during last summer. Dawn Patrol and Miss Summers were worried sick, and he tried to do his best to alleviate it. He still popped over every so often, and babysat Dawn when he could, just so she'd know he wouldn't forget about her, that she still mattered.
He grinned brightly. Enjoying thinking about his favorite girls. He wondered how would Faith react to being called "his." He chuckled internally. *Like being a demon-hunting secret agent apparently just ain't living quite dangerously enough.* Speaking of which...
He tapped his wrist twice above his wristwatch. Faith noticed, but didn't show that she noticed. It was almost that time.
For the second time today, he heard that distinct double- ring. Fortunately, Buffy had left sometime before and Oz, in his wolf form, was pacing restlessly in his cage. Again, he picked it up before the second ring, engaged in the security checks and awaited the click before speaking.
"Two in one day? This must be some kind of record." He was tired.
"Droll as usual, 013." M again.
"Well, if you do not recall, I am in the middle of yet another apocalypse."
"What is the status on that situation? Would you require a team sent just in case?"
He considered it for a moment, debated his options.
"That's all right M, I believe my people can handle it, though it may be close."
"All the same, 013, but I will send a team anyway as a precaution. They will maintain standby status and monitor the proceedings."
He sighed, recognizing a good idea when he heard it, rather then an attempt to undermine him. It would be nice knowing help is a button-push away, for once.
"That would be fine, M. Normal emergency protocols then?"
"Quite right, Mr. Giles. Also, there is something else. Our sources have uncovered another nugget of information that might be of interest."
"Oh really," He was curious, despite himself.
"We have obtained the identity of your replacement from the Council."
He groaned. The Jhe situation was enough of a debacle, much less having to deal with this down the line.
"Who is it? Anyone I know?"
"We are not quite sure, you did walk in similar circles with his father."
"Father?" He mentally ran down the list of likely candidates with that fact in mind. It led him to one possible conclusion.
"Oh no. Not Wyndbag-Price the Second?"
"Well, you got it in one, Mr. Giles, though the certainly... colorful moniker was a bit more than we need, or had."
"Well, he was a bit of a pompous nancy-boy, I tended to minimize most of my contact with the both of them, only when I needed his similarly pretentious, yet well-connected father as an absolute last resort. His inclusion in the higher echelon was always considered Nepotism of the worst sort."
"That does match what we have on him as well. He did slip off our radar a few years back, however."
"From what I heard, it was not important, just some type of wilderness retreat for Blue Bloods. The rumor was he met a girl there and decided to stay awhile. His father was not pleased."
"All right then. I will have some more digging done for you. The report will be out to you by mid-day."
"Thank you. I will look over it once the Hellmouth debacle has finished. Anything else?"
"That is all for now, Mr. Giles. Have a pleasant evening.
"You too, M. Cheers."
Pop-Pow!
"Ahhhh!" Thump!
Thunk-Whoosh...
She smirked under her mask and stood.
As long as she lived, she never tired of the sound of a stake slamming home and a vamp going poof. The Wicked 2 strikes again; so fast, so sudden, and they were on top of the nest before the vamps knew what hit them.
After dropping Baby D off, X mentioned a possible raid. How X knew about this spot was beyond her. Gift horses and everything, right?
And these great toys... This time he'd come up with paintball guns filled with 'special cocktails.' A holy water/Butane party mix, able to hit a vamp in the face or the chest like a Rocket Roger high heater and light them up like Michael Jackson's hair in a Pepsi commercial. Wicked Sweet. She made a couple look like Christmas trees already, before she mercy-staked them.
She put the gun away, wanting to go hand-to-hand with the leftovers. One growled, stepped right up. She jabbed him twice, broke his nose, loosened teeth, snapped his head back. She danced a moment, before jabbing once more. The vamp deflected and fired back, she slipped the first punch, bob-and-weaved under the next, and fired a lightning combo jab-hook-cross, head-body-head, that staggered him to the wall. She danced again; a feature on Ali was on ESPN Classic while she ate breakfast, she took some mental notes.
The vamp bounced off the wall, rushed forward with a lunge. She slipped it again, popped a quick combo, hook-uppercut- cross, left- left-right, that broke his ribs, jaw, and sent him spinning like a top, crashing to the floor. She grinned, pulled her stake, finished him, and looked at X, who was currently in the middle of a clinic.
The vamp, nice and bloody, rushed X, reaching out. X swirled his arm, like he was waxing Mr. Miyagi's car, and wiped away the out- stretched arm then gripped it tight. He yanked the leech in, stomping on the vamp's foot, slamming his elbow into his nose at an angle, and kneeing him in the nuts, all at the same time in one motion. The vamp folded, collapsed to the floor, spread-eagle, very dazed. She could see the elbow-shot had rammed the nose directly into his brain. 'Death' shots like that take a moment for bloodsuckers to recover from. And X knew that. Still, he picked up the gun, and fired a paintball right at the vamp's nuts. Over the screams, she could hear the sizzling. X winced in sympathy. She chuckled.
"Good one, fresh roasted nuts, huh?" She could see him smile under the mask, heard that laugh she lo... liked so much.
"Ha ha, Gypsy girl." he reached into his backpack, pulling out the extra-duffle. He tossed it to her. "Your turn?"
"No problem, Nemo." She turned toward the steps, darting upstairs. They made a point not to use real names during 'ops,' as he called them. Maintaining the mystery, he said. He reminded her of Linda in that way. What good is a secret identity if you just broadcast to any Tom, Dick or Lestat within hearing range? She saw what that did for Buffy.
She liked the name he picked for her, though.
She liked being mysterious.
He watched her until she disappeared to the second floor, appreciating the view not for the first time. And not for the first time, he had to remind himself to slow down. That it wasn't the time yet. She'd become so important in practically every facet of his life, and to risk that...
He remembered what happened with Cordy, bearing the brunt of her anger almost every day was great for his short-term memory. He sighed, turned his attention to the still-moaning Hostile, who had writhed his way to lying in the fetal position against the wall, rocking slowly. He needed Intel, and fast, before Faith came back. She already had enough going on her plate. Tonight had weakened the threat, but not completely.
He pulled back his sleeve and fired a bolt right in the Hostile's upper right chest. The vamp recoiled, flopping like a fish. The screams increased.
"I'm going to ask you this once." He paused, crouching to make eye contact.
The vamp looked up, eyes tearing, and whimpered. He nodded his agreement.
"Tomorrow night, who is the leader, the 'quarterback'?"
The vamp's eyes widened. Xander moved his arm, pointing the wrist launcher directly at the vamp's terrified face. The point of the bolt lined up perfectly, staring into the hostile's eye. The hostile looked at Xander in naked fear, who raised an eyebrow still visible beneath the balaclava. The vamp shut his eyes and whispered a name.
"O'Toole."