Title: The
Soldier Diaries: Relative Issues
Author:
Buffywatcher
Feedback:
Constructive comments always welcome: [email protected]
Pairing:
Spike/Angel (Sort of. You’ll see)
Rating: Strong R to possibly NC-17ish
Spoilers:
Perhaps some incidental references but nothing major.
Warnings:
Character death in this one (You don’t see any details). There’s Violence, M/M
relationship, strong language…Bit of uncomfortable ickiness here or there…The
usual goodies.
Disclaimer:
Just borrowing them for a bit of harmless fun. All characters, recognisable
likenesses are retained by their owner and accredited license holders.
Writer’s Notes:
This story takes place in an AU setting. This one is going to contain a bit of
a twist to the usual Vampiric driven storylines so I hope that doesn’t offend
too much. This series will also bring forth the fact that Step-siblings can be
lovers but if that goes a bit too far for your moral fibre I’d suggest giving
this story a pass. Please excuse any minor discrepancies or artist license. As
always thanks are going out to GF, MarieC, Luba, and Mera my most excellent
group of Beta/Editors.
Writer’s Dedication:
This story if for Stony, my own favourite muse and beta/editor Ghostsforge,
since it was his Challenge that gave me the idea for it and he helped with the
outline concepts that drive this little tale.
Distribution:
If I’ve already been given permission to archive my work please consider it
yours if you want it. If I haven’t and you would like to archive it please do,
all I ask is that you email me and tell me where it’s going so I can visit.
Summary: The
battle for Humanity’s future is about to begin but for a pair of Stepbrothers unexpectedly
reunited on the frontlines it’s about to become a relative issue.
Story Relevant Symbol Key:
*Character Thoughts*
~Flashback
Sequence~
The base is a hive of activity when he arrives
and welcoming shouts and gestures ring out as he drives through the main gate,
barely stopping before the guard motions him to proceed. He doesn’t return the
greetings as he manoeuvres the sporty convertible through the bustling base and
pulls into the spot reserved for him, yet another benefit of the rank he once
held.
Liam spots a very expensive Hummer parked in the
V.I.P. space; it’s paint a deep unrelieved black with the slight sheen of
metallic silver and the chrome is gleaming and spotless. He notices that heavy
grills protect both bumpers and additional reinforcements cunningly form a
durable roll cage, transforming the stylish transport into a veritable tank on
wheels. A small trailer in matching black and chrome is attached to the rear by
a short rigid tow frame. An expensive looking Harley Davidson motorcycle is
parked beside the massive Hummer and strangely enough it barely seems to dwarf
the impressive bike. It’s obviously been heavily customised and the black and
chrome gleams brightly under the lights holding back the night. Several heavy
lockboxes on the front and side sport heavy locks as does the moderately sized
luggage holdall in the back. A fairly expensive sound system is protected by a
clever lockable cage with a heavy lock to match the rest, he notices as he
walks over to have a closer look at the impressive machine. He is careful not
to jostle the bike as he admires it as the flashing green light betrays the
presence of an alarm. It is clearly designed to hold a pair of riders in almost
car-like comfort and a pair of helmets are fitted onto special holders and held
by locked collars to prevent their theft. His eyes widen as he notices some of
the customisation includes a built in caged holster for a short barrelled
shotgun.
“Sweet ride isn’t it Sir?”
Liam looks over his shoulder as Meers walks up
behind him, smiling. “It certainly is…Spike and his Team’s I take it?”
Meers nods. “They’ve certainly got all the best
toys I have to say. The Commander has something he’d like to see us about.” He
sounds faintly awed and for no little reason, as a Private he has never been
personally requested to attend a meeting with the Base Commander before. In
fact aside from a group welcome speech from the Commander when he was initially
assigned to the base, he has barely even seen Commander Woods. “He asked me to
watch for you and pass on the message and report to his office for a meeting
when you arrived. Shall we Sir?” Meers motions to the
building.
Liam nods and hikes his pack higher on his
shoulder and strides for the Commander’s office, Meers at his heel. It only
takes them a few minutes and they’re ushered straight in to see the Commander.
“Ah Liam and private Meers, please have a seat.”
The Commander says rising as they enter and gesturing to the chairs in front of
his desk. As soon as the two men are seating he resumes his own seat and looks
at the pair with a glint in his eyes. “I have arranged with Mr. Giles to…borrow
his Hunters during their stay in our town.” Both men are clearly surprised by
that revelation. “He’s agreed to assign them to a unit of my choosing as
a…cultural exchange of sorts. The Watchers Council utilises very
specialised equipment and has experience far and beyond of our own, resources
we can use if things on the Human/Demon relations front continue to deteriorate
and I have every belief that it will. What I am about to say doesn’t leave this
office Gentlemen, I trust that is understood.”
“Yes Sir.” Both men answer in tandem.
“Excellent. Intelligence reports are pointing to
something major in the works in the Demon community. The cluster-fuck caused by
that ill-thought out Project: Initiative has irreparably damaged the balance of
power between Humans and Demons. A war is coming; it’s practically inevitable
at this time given the outrage over what occurred back then. They have some
respect for us, for killing, they see it almost as a fair fight if you will; a
kill or be killed contest of wills. It was the fact that Demons were captured
to be lab rats that has them ready to go to war with Humanity. The Hellmouths;
there are currently four known in various places around the world. The
Antarctic Hellmouth has been sealed permanently or so we have been told which
leaves three active. Of the three, two are located in the
Woods pauses briefly to let them absorb what
he’s said before he continues. “The last is located in a relative
under-populated area of the Russian interior. The Watchers Council has managed
to arrange for a significant presence in the area with the cooperation of the Russian
military forces. One of their largest training centres is located virtually on
top of the event; an elite military base has been established around the
perimeter surrounding it. However the
The Commander pauses and leans forward in his
chair to rest his forearms on his desk and lowers his voice. “It has come to my
attention that Mr. Giles will be retiring within a few months from his position
as the Head of the Watchers Council. I am assured that whatever agreements we
reach with him at this time will be honoured to the letter by his successor.
Actually what has me more excited however is that his escorts are also planning
to leave the service of the Watchers Council as well and they are all planning
to settle here; we can use that to our benefit.”
Liam leans forward. “You’re going to try and
recruit them aren’t you?”
Commander Woods smiles like a cat that has just
eaten a plump Canary. “I have Mr. Giles’ assurances that his Hunters will be at
our full disposal should their services be warranted, but I have something else
in mind.” Woods says happily. “I want to…hire their services as freelance
contractors of sorts. We’re doing an excellent job of policing this area and
keeping the numbers of harmful species down, Vampire numbers are down and being
kept low by the presence and efforts of the Slayer but we can do better. The
Hunters that have accompanied Mr. Giles are at the top of their game, they are
the best bar none at this time.”
Woods grabs a thick file from a stack sitting
near his elbow and opens it, scanning it briefly and resuming. “Lt. Colonel
William Bradley in particular has quite the distinguished service record both
in the service with the Royal Marines, a highly decorated veteran of the S.A.S.
and further into his career with the Council. He holds multiple doctorates in
linguistics, applied engineering and parapsychology. He is fluent in French,
Spanish, Russian, Latin, Japanese, and Italian, with fluency in several
dialects therein. He is also believed to be fluent in no less than six Demon
languages along with several sub-dialects. He is a counter-insurgence
specialist with highest rankings in search and rescue, counter-terrorism, and
he is a sniper class marksman. His former CO’s have entered it into his records
that he is welcome to name his post at any time should he choose to return to a
military life.” He scans the page farther. “There isn’t much on the nature of
his work here, not even our best contacts could break through the cone of
silence on most of this but from what I see here; his reputation is if anything
too modest for what he is capable of. There is also some reference to a
possible former attachment to MI6, but that is unconfirmed.”
Woods closes the file and picks up another,
scanning it briefly. “Captain Charles Jacob Mathew Gunn retired British Army
with highest honours bestowed. He also served with distinction in the S.A.S.
and holds doctorates in applied mechanical engineering and electronics. He
speaks German and Czech fluently. He is a heavy weapons specialist with
classifications in combat driving, demolition, and heavy construction.”
Woods sets that file down and grabs up the next
one in the stack. “Lt. Commander Anya Jensen-Giles retired British Navy with
highest possible honours bestowed. She holds several doctorates in medicine and
applied computer programming. She is fluent in Russian, Japanese, and French
and is believed to be fluent in no less than fourteen Demon languages and
dialects. There are some indications that she has ties to both MI5 and
Interpol, but these are unconfirmed at this time. There is actually little
information of a personal nature on any of these people having been classified
and restricted by the English government. Mr. Giles did reveal however that the
Lt. Commander is actually quite adept as he put it, in arcane matters.”
“Arcane matters Sir?” Meers asks hesitantly.
“That would be magic…for want of a better word,
Private. That was told me in confidence and does not leave this room, I trust
you understand.” Woods waits for their acknowledging nods. “Magic does exist Gentlemen, it is a powerful resource and one which the
He closes the file, sets it aside and opens the
last file, scanning its contents before looking up. “There isn’t much on either
Mr. Giles or his assistant Wesley Wyndham-Price. Mr. Price was formerly a
Warrant Officer in the RAF and he retired honourably with several decorations
for valour. He holds doctorates in psychology, physics, and medicine. He is
fluent in sixteen languages and almost an equal number of dialects both Human
and Demon. He is a Watcher that much we can confirm but we have no access to
their personal records so we have no idea what that entails. Mr. Giles has
revealed that it will be Mr. Price that will be assuming the role of Watcher
for the Slayer but was reluctant to part with many details regarding their
additional business here.”
Liam is uncharacteristically silent as he
ponders whether or not to tell the Commander what Spike has revealed about
their presence here. “Sir, I think I can shed some light on that additional
business, but I have to ask that this remain strictly confidential.”
“Of course Liam, this entire meeting is off the
record and will remain that way.” Woods assures him.
“Wil told me that there will be a new Slayer
soon, as the Council is going to retire Ms. Summers from her duties. Apparently
they feel that the physical strain imposed will prove detrimental to her health
should she continue to serve in the capacity that she has been. There is
apparently some ritual or ceremony that will remove her from the bloodline and
activate a new Slayer.”
“Correct me if I am mistaken Liam, but isn’t
their other Slayer in prison for murder?”
“You’re referring to Faith Sir and yes she is,
but apparently she has already been through the retirement process and is no
longer a Slayer. As I understand it once Buffy is retired, a new Slayer will be
called and from what you said, Mr. Price will serve as her Watcher. I have no
idea why Ms. Rosenberg’s services as a Watcher would no longer be needed, but
perhaps she will assist Mr. Price. Wil and his team are apparently here as insurance; to make sure things go smoothly.”
“Is there some reason to think that there may be
trouble?”
“Well Sir as I understand it…Buffy may not
voluntarily submit to being retired, whatever the process is. If she fights the
Council’s edicts, then Wil and his team may be called to…subdue her long enough
for the ceremony to be performed. I think they are expecting that it will be
psychologically impossible for Buffy to make an easy transition to retirement
and expect she’ll fight them on the decision; quite possibly violently. Wil
made some vague comments about Hunters that honestly I didn’t really
understand, but he made it sound like it was personal to him.”
“You’re involved with Ms. Summers aren’t you
Liam?”
“On and off Sir, currently off but we’ve been
talking and honestly I don’t know how to answer that question right now Sir. I
care deeply for her, yes.”
“Are you going to interfere with what they’re
planning to do by warning Ms. Summers Colonel?” Woods asks bluntly.
“As it was explained to me Sir, this HAS to
happen or she’ll eventually suffer irreversible damage, which may result in
fatal organ damage. I don’t want to stand by and see her upset, but nor can I
overlook what Wil told me. I am not going to warn her Sir…but I’m not sure I
could be any party to assisting them either.”
“That’s honest Liam and the answer I expected to
hear.” Woods says proudly. He leans forward and pushes the button on the
intercom. “Tara, could you please contact Sergeant Oswald, ask
him to cut his tour of the base short and escort Mr. Giles and his party back
to my office please.”
“Yes Sir, I’ll get right on that Sir.”
Woods leans back and steeples his fingers under
his chin. “I want those Hunters Gentlemen, now I want your views on how we can
make that happen. I plan to create a flagship unit that will be our best and
brightest. Colonel, I plan to have you be in charge with Lt. Colonel Bradley as
your 2IC. Private Meers, I would like you to become our official liaison with
the Council. You seem to have impressed the Lt. Colonel and on that recommendation
Mr. Giles has asked that you fulfil that role personally.”
“Well Sir, from spending some time with
Spike…the Lt. Colonel Sir, I would advise just being straightforward about
everything. He seems to admire plain speaking Sir.”
“I rather got that impression myself Private.”
Woods says with a grin. “He’s quite…the colourful character isn’t he? Things
should get lively around here.”
“Sir, that brings up a point that I would like
to address.” Liam says hesitantly. “Wil has always been somewhat of a lone wolf
Sir and discipline is not really in his vocabulary. While this base is outside
the usual military protocols and regulations, it does still rely quite heavily
on its formal military aspects to maintain a chain of command and so forth.”
“From what I’ve read in the records we could
compile, each of these people had somewhat distinguished military careers.
Though each of them does have several official reprimands in their permanent
records, each one seems to be in regards for some action that while deemed
reckless still resulted in getting the job done and more lives saved. As you
stated Liam, while we may draw the majority of our staff from military service
and follow a somewhat military command structure, we are in fact not a military
instillation. We had little choice in the early days but to draw from the
resources that we have, in this case the military and the government. It’s not
like we can go out and places ads for mercenary Demon Hunters or Specialists,
when most of the world doesn’t even know such things exist. The Watchers
Council is the largest private concern and resource for the type of work we’re
going to be called to do. The regular military will just not be equipped to
fight what’s coming but we will be with their help.” Woods says; a serious
expression on his face.
The intercom buzzes and Woods leans over and
trips the switch. “Yes
“Mr. Giles is back with his associates Sir.”
“Excellent, show them right in please
“Thank you for arranging the tour Commander. You
have a fine set-up here.”
“It was my pleasure Mr. Giles.”
“Please just call me Giles, like these
reprobates do.” Spike and his companions chuckle quietly.
“I would like to propose another alliance
Giles.” Woods says jumping right into the discussion. “You’ve told me about
your personal circumstances and that you’re planning to relocate to this area
to live, correct?”
Giles nods an affirmative answer. “I am planning
to retire as the head of the Council yes. My successor is Wesley’s Father Roger
in point of fact. I have served the Council for almost thirty years and would
rather spend what years are left in a less…publicly demanding role. We have
some personal reasons for wanting to settle in this area, as well as some
Council business we must attend to here as well, which will require our
attention for a while.”
“I’m sure that the Commander has been filled in
on the particulars of that by now Giles.” Spike says quietly glancing at Liam
who shoots him an apologetic look.
“Yes he did tell us a bit about it, but perhaps
you could elaborate for us M…sorry, Giles.” Woods says perkily.
“Well as you may know, Miss Summers is currently
the oldest Slayer we’ve ever had and hence our first real chance to study what
the long term effects of being the Slayer actually are. Our doctors have
discovered that the physical, mental, and emotional strain of being the Slayer
is in essence causing their bodies to burn out. They estimate that by the age
of thirty, irreversible damage will have occurred, not only to her body
physically, but that her mental and emotional stability will have been likewise
compromised. Usually by now the first signs of this deterioration have become
readily apparent in Slayers of the past.” Giles pulls off his eyeglasses and
cleans the lenses before replacing them.
“Due to the reports by her current Watcher, Ms.
“Additionally, Miss Summers has been truly an
asset to the Council and we would like to honour that by giving her a chance to
lead the happy and healthy life she’s been denied up to this point.” Wesley
adds. “Never before has there been two active Slayers, due to a surprising set
of circumstances that rendered Miss Summers clinically dead for three minutes
until she was revived. It was just long enough to activate her successor. As
you may be aware, her successor Faith…was something of a disappointment.”
“He means to say she was totally barmy Mate.”
Spike says dryly and his friends chuckle.
Giles clears his throat to mask his own chuckle.
“Well, yes she was, but Faith was rather a surprise to us as well as we did not
foresee her activation. You see the Slayer is ALWAYS one of three contenders,
the strongest of the potentials at the given time that a new Slayer is called.
However it was an unforeseen pattern of tragedy that saw all three top
potentials at the time, being killed within a week of each other. One in the
field during a training exercise and the other two were actually killed
together in an unfortunate train accident. Those occurrences in turn left the
door open for Faith’s ascension to Slayer. Spike had been recalled with every
intention of dealing with Faith, but it proved unnecessary as your men had by
then captured her and turned her over to the authorities and she was safely in
jail. We saw no need to then retire her, having Miss Summers still fulfilling
her role admirably. That has now been called into question however.” Giles
clears his throat and continues. “Spike has suggested that we take the time to
observe Buffy and make our own determination of how to proceed and I have
agreed to that.”
Liam looks over his shoulder at Wil and silently
thanks him for speaking up for Buffy. It is clear from the steely glint in his
eye that he knows what their observations will reveal and he drops his eyes and
turns back around sadly. “Wil said something to me about how he would be the
one to confront Buffy, should she fight the decision. Could you tell me…us what
he meant Giles?”
“Very well, but what I have to say must remain
in this room.” Giles says solemnly.
Spike motions to Gunn who nods and quietly
leaves the office, closing the door behind him. Through the frosted glass at
the top of the door, it’s clear to see that he has taken up a position directly
in front of the door. At the same time, Wesley has stood and taken his place at
the window and Spike has shifted position slightly until he has a clear field
of view to Giles.
“A bit of a history lesson is in order. I’m sure
that you have managed to glean the basic facts of what a Slayer is and what she
is called to do, given Liam’s association with Buffy. I’ll tell you about the
mechanics of it all. The first Slayer was created by a mystical blending of a
young girl and a Demon. We’re not sure what kind of Demon but given that her
abilities make her a natural Vampire hunter it is believed that the Demon in
question was vampiric in origin. From this “primitive” as she was called
several daughters were born, each of whom in turn created her own bloodline and
so forth. With the aid of computers and modern technology we can now isolate
which bloodlines are likely to produce a potential and we watch for the signs.
When a candidate is identified, a Watcher is dispatched to arrange for training
and such forth.”
“Yes; that is roughly what we have come to
surmise about the process.” Woods confirms. “One thing has always puzzled me
though. Why make the Slayer a female…wouldn’t a male have
been better suited to the role of a fighter?”
“You must not know that many female soldiers
then Commander.” Anya and Spike chuckle as Wesley coughs to cover his amusement
and Giles hurriedly continues his lecture before he laughs as well.
“There really isn’t any record of why they chose
a woman to be their subject, but we believe it has something to do with the
fact of how a potential becomes a Slayer and that women are the bearers of
life, whereas man can only sow, he cannot reap. When a potential is chosen, her
body is in essence subjected to a massive amount of hormones flooding her
system all at once.”
“Think supercharged puberty from HELL.” Spike
quips and Woods pales, then laughs nervously.
“I can see what you meant about the health
issues, as puberty was never meant to go on for so long.” Woods swallows
heavily; he can just imagine what that must be like for the families.
“The First Elders also set into motion one other
safeguard. One that sadly we have had to call upon in times past; though
thankfully infrequently.”
“You mean the Hunters?” Meers asks.
“I mean THE Hunter, yes. You see there was once
only one Hunter just as there was only one Slayer. He is always male and in
fact is born with the powers of a Slayer already manifesting. As the Slayer is
born to fight Demons…the Hunter is born to fight the Slayer.” Giles says
gruffly.
Liam jumps out of his chair and whips around to
stare at Spike with his mouth open trying to speak. Giles calmly stands and
gently forces him back into his chair.
“When a Slayer goes rogue or becomes in some way
corrupted or compromised and no options are left, the Hunter is called. Spike
isn’t just any Hunter, he is THE Hunter; the latest in the long legacy of his
bloodline. Unfortunately there have been several instances when their services
have been required. If it becomes necessary, Spike will have to do what he has
been born to do.”
“And that is?” Liam says stonily.
“I am the Slayer of Slayers Liam. It is what I
was born for, trained for since before I could even walk, what my whole life
has been spent in preparation for.” Spike says with fatalistic acceptance. “I
help to train them, assist them, and pray to whatever spirits are listening
that one day I won’t be the means of their death. It’s not what I wanted to be
when I grew up, but for me, there was no other choice. I am what I was born and
raised to be. I told you what I was Liam…still want to make me feel better
about it?” Spike says bitingly.
“Wait! What the fuck do you mean you’ve been
training for this since before you could even walk?!” Liam yells, glaring at
Giles venomously.
“Weren’t you listening to Rupert infant?” Anya
swiftly crosses the space to place herself between Giles and Liam while Wesley
quickly takes his hand and assists him to rise and places him behind him as
well. The whole flux of movement takes mere seconds and it is obviously a well
practiced manoeuvre. “Spike is THE Hunter, he was BORN with all the abilities
of a Slayer already manifesting, but rather than being born to fight Demons,
his sole reason for being is to be the means to CONTROL a rogue Slayer and do
what has to be done. Unlike a potential who may or may
not become a Slayer in time, Spike was never given a choice.”
Liam is out of his chair again in a second flat
and Meers and the Commander hurriedly catch hold of his wrists and restrain
him. “How could you DO that to him Giles; he was only a CHILD and your GODSON
for all that’s holy! All those nights he’d come home beaten half to death with
more bruises than skin, it was because of you!” Liam struggles trying to rip
his wrists free, but then Spike is there with his hand pressing against his
chest and his eyes boring into his.
“I had to be trained Liam…you KNOW that. I was
BORN with all the powers of a Slayer and then some. It was necessary to train
me how to use them safely, not just for my sake but everyone else’s as well. I
could have hurt someone without meaning to.”
“Wait, you’re older than Buffy…isn’t what’s
going to happen to her, happen to you too?” Liam shouts alarmed at the
prospect.
“No, Liam it’s not. The difference is in HOW
they acquired the abilities that they have. Buffy was just a regular teenager
before all this happened, before
“We had no idea that there was anything more to
the Hunters than it appeared. Are all the Hunters…?” Woods starts.
“No, they aren’t all true Hunters. Most are
potentials that have never been chosen, or mercenaries that choose the life for
whatever reason. There is only one true Hunter and Spike is it. He is the first
true Hunter to reach maturity, so honestly we have little empirical data that
can help us know what to expect. All we’re positive of, is that the changes to
his body are permanent, that he has fully adapted to them and shows no sign of
any of the symptoms that the Slayers exhibit. There are also some fairly
significant differences as well, which may have something to do with the
stability of their abilities. Unlike Slayers, a true Hunter will by all data
we’ve been able to collect, be able to sustain their abilities until death
itself.” Wesley recites as though he was reading a medical report.
“What differences?” Woods asks; fascinated and
excited in equal measure at having such skills; all available in the convenient
form of the bleach blond punk standing a few feet away.
“Wait! You said Wil was the first Hunter to
reach maturity. What the devil happened to the others?! Is he in any danger?”
Liam demands.
“Well yes and no.” Giles says looking startled
as Liam and surprisingly enough Meers shoot him dirty looks for the ambiguity
of his answer. He throws up his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s a little
hard to explain, so maybe an example would be more effective.” Giles turns to
look at Spike.
“Oh I’m thinking that would be a really bloody
bad idea as we’re in the heart the good ole US of A’s military machine here for
the most part Mate. They’re a backwards lot with that ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’
nonsense of theirs and I doubt a lady, attractive though the prospects here may
be, will really drive home your little demonstration Giles.” Spike says with a
disparaging smirk. “The Bronze will do for a decent demonstration I would think?
If I remember the place well it should have more than enough Demon types to
make the point?”
Giles looks pleased. “Yes, very adequate. Good
thinking Wil. Well Commander, feel like tagging along? I could ruddy well do
with a drink while we’re there too.”
“Why not explain to us what we can expect to see
first.” Liam says implacably, shooting an apologetic glance at the Commander
that is answered by a forgiving nod.
“Well you know that most Demons and Vampires in
particular can sense a Slayer to varying degrees?” Giles asks pulling off his
glasses and cleaning them nervously once more.
“Yes, I’ve noticed that a few times when I’ve
been around Buffy when she’s patrolling. It’s like they almost HAVE to attack
her, even when they have to know it is suicide, I’ve seen them still try and
attack rather than run away. I’ve only ever seen maybe one or two that were
smart enough to run away rather than fight her.” Liam offers.
“That is a very accurate description of the
reaction a Slayer engenders Colonel.” Wesley says surprised. “The Council has
theorised that it is rather like a dominance reaction like those seen in pack
animals. They fight because they see a Slayer as a threat to their dominance,
one that has to be removed at all costs, even if they end up destroyed.”
“You mean like watching dogs fighting over a
bone or something?” Private Meers asks.
Wesley makes an annoying half laugh, half
snorting sound that he quickly cuts off as Spike’s eyes narrow and glint
dangerously. He’s made little attempt to hide the fact that the young Private
has impressed him. “A bit over simplistic perhaps, but essentially correct. You
see predators are all about rank, position, strength, and power. The higher up
the pecking order that you are the more perks that being in that position
brings with it but also the harder it is to hold on to. There are always bigger
dogs looking to take what you’ve got in essence. Vampires usually gain strength
and power as they age and the few that you saw that were smart enough to run
away were likely Masters that were strong enough to overcome their Demons’
instincts to fight.”
“So it’s like a territorial display?” Liam says
and Wesley nods. “How are Hunters…the true Hunters different?”
“Well the true Hunter is the mirror image of the
Slayer. Where she is always a female, he is always a male. As she must come
into her powers to gain them, he is born to his and must run a gauntlet of
unimaginable peril, which in the end makes for quite a formidable fighter.”
“Can we have that in English Uncle Giles?” Liam
says exasperated by the vague answers to a simple question. Meers and Commander
look grateful for his short tempered outburst and sport confused expressions
that no doubt match his own.
“Lord, think about it will you Liam? I know
having your head shoved in a soldier’s helmet for years has probably damaged
your brain cells, but think about what he’s said and you’ll ‘get it’
eventually. I have every confidence in you Mate, really.” Spike snaps all but
snarling as a blank look is his only answer. “The Slayer drives Demons into a
fight or flight reaction…a true Hunter doesn’t repel Demons.”
“They attract them.” Giles says gruffly. Liam,
Meers, and Woods all look at Spike with varying degrees of horror mixed with
pity. In Liam’s case, there is also anger and some other fleeting emotion that
has his hands clenching on the arms of the chair. “In the past, it was
veritably impossible for the Council to determine who the true Hunter was until
it was too late. Most were…taken before they matured into their full abilities.
You see Demons can sense them instinctually and until Spike, no true Hunter
survived to maturity, he is the first and only. So much of what we now know we
owe to our considerable studies of William.”
“What do you mean they were ‘taken’?” Woods asks
horrified.
“Vampires in particular are…well they…I mean…”
Giles stutters unsure how to phrase what he wants to say as a faint blush
stains his cheeks.
“What Giles means to say is that Vampires and
some other species of Demon-kind find true Hunters to be desirable shags.”
Spike says bluntly and snorts in disgust as the looks fly his way again. “It’s
quite a coup to claim a true Hunter and before me each and every single one has
been taken and claimed.”
“God, they’re like trophy heads people hang on
walls?” Liam sounds disgusted.
“Well except for the whole being headless thing.
They’re killed alright, but they don’t stay that way. No true Hunter has ever
been killed outright in a fight against a Demon, only Slayers have claimed that
dubious ‘honour’.” Wesley says clearing his throat.
“They’d rather have died than end up how they
did.” Spike says flatly.
“They’re turned aren’t they?” While he’s clearly
asking a question everyone knows Liam knows the answer already.
“Yes, and they usually become the Mates or
Consorts of the oldest Masters.” Spike says flatly.
“Only the oldest of the Elders have the power to
claim one.” Giles adds clearing his throat. “They make extremely powerful
Vampires when they’re turned, and most become Masters within decades, not
centuries as it may otherwise take. They actually have some abilities in
common.”
“What?!
That’s madness, why would anyone handicap…” Liam exclaims in disgust.
“We’re the price that has to be paid for the
creation of the Slayers.” Spike says flatly. He spins on his heels and rips
open the door so suddenly that Gunn leaps forward in shock, staring after him
as he storms passed and out of the office.
“He’ll come back when he calms down or he’ll
just wait outside for us.” Giles says roughly. “Gunn…please.”
The tall black man nods and closes the door before following Spike. “Gunn will
be able to calm him down; those two have been inseparable since they were
children.”
“What did he mean by he’s the price that had to
be paid?” Liam’s voice betrays the fact that anything but the whole truth
simply stated will likely result in bloodshed of the most painful sort.
“He was being honest, if perhaps overly harshly
so and blunt as is his nature. The magic that was used to create the Slayer was
by its very nature very costly. Good cannot come from an evil done, even if it
is done for all the right reasons, when it comes to magic there is no such
thing as a grey only black and white. They took the stuff of darkness and
placed it into the vessel of a young woman, to create the first Slayer. Dark
magic calls for blood and while we do not know what arcane arts the ancients
called upon one thing always remains constant, the price must be paid. They
took from the darkness; they gave to the darkness in return. A
life for a life.” Giles lets his voice trail off.
“Mirror
images.” Wesley says again, reminding them of what was
said earlier. “Slayers were created to fight the darkness and the Demons that
dwell within it. The Hunter was created to be a control on the Slayer, born to
be her polar opposite.”
“God, stop being so damn dramatic about it all,
it’s not that mystical or mysterious at all.” Anya snorts impatiently. “To
fight the Demons, the Slayers were imbued with the essence of those self same
Demons. To fight the Slayer, the Hunters were Demons that were imbued with the
essence of HUMANS. You see it is balance in motion; both are something more
than the sum of their parts, yet on opposing sides of the same coin. One is
Human with a Demon’s essence and one is a Demon with a Human’s essence. Unless
I miss my guess, Hunters are Incubus born which would explain their
more…pleasurable talents and why Demons are drawn to them. Not even Demons are
immune to an Incubus’ gifts.”
“Incu…what?” Meers says confused.
“The Incubus is a Seducer Demon, they use their
supernatural allure to seduce souls from their owners and feed off of sexual
energy like nuclear reactors. There are old tales that say Vampires are also
somehow descended from the Incubi, which lends some credence to the old tales
about their incredible sexual allure. Let’s go to The Bronze and you’ll see
what it’s rather hard to explain. You’ve never seen just what Spike is capable
of when he’s hunting. Maybe it’s time that you did.” Anya heads for the door and
opens it and taps her booted foot impatiently. Giles and Wesley are at her side
quickly and she waves them to pass and turns her gaze on the three remaining
occupants.
One by one the men rise and move to follow Anya
from the office as she strides impatiently through the doorway. The three
soldiers trail meekly after Anya like tails streaming from a kite and pulled
along after the force of her personality. They’re all silent and mulling over
what the events of the past few minutes.
Liam’s head throbs painfully as his once orderly
world is now a mass of confusion. The girl he loved is apparently a Human that
is part Demon and the man he…Wil…is apparently a Demon that is part Human and
he hunts Demons…even as he…loves…Demons? Everything was so clear once, he knew
who the enemies were and who his friends were but now all he has are questions
that he can’t answer. Hell, if he’s being honest with himself, he’s not sure
that he even knows what questions to ask! Has he accidentally killed other
Demons that could have been innocent and in fact part Human? He follows
everyone outside and stops in his tracks, accidentally causing Meers to bump
into his back with a hasty apology. He waves off Meers’ concern with a
distracted smile and a wave of his hand as he looks at Wil and Gunn.
They’re standing very close together, their
chests almost touching and Gunn’s hand rests with an easy familiarity on Wil’s
shoulder and they’re obviously deep in conversation. They’re obviously very
close; their body language shouts that as much as their easy camaraderie does
as they stand well inside the usual comfort zone people like to maintain around
each other. You can see it easily wherever you go if you actually pay attention
to what you’re seeing. Everywhere you can go you carry barriers stronger than
any wall of wood or stone or plaster. The separation of carefully measured
distances we all maintain; grateful for the barrier of a shopping cart as we
line up like silver go-carts at the starting line. How we’re so conscious of where
we are versus where everyone else is when we’re standing in a line, the almost
consensual silence that we are reluctant to break in an elevator, all of it is
barriers and measures to isolate us. There is none of that awkwardness between
Charles and Wil and somehow he can just TELL that once there was even less
distance between them, but now there is no hint of romantic attachment. They
look over as they approach and Spike cuffs Gunn’s shoulder, stalks over to the
motorcycle and pulls some keys from his duster pocket and opens the straps
securing the helmets. He sets one on his head and tosses the other straight at
him! Just as Liam is about to raise his arms to catch the helmet, he sees other
arms already reaching out to do it and turns his head as Meers steps forward
holding the helmet and grinning. He slips the helmet on with a grin as he walks
to the Motorcycle, zipping up his jacket on the way.
“Well I did promise you a ride, Mate so shake
that Yankee ass
Spike straddles the motorcycle with a swivel of
his hips. He is seated with an easy grace as he pulls the bike up vertically,
kicks up the stand, inserts the key and hits the ignition all in one easy
motion. While Anya is herding him and the Commander towards the Hummer, Liam
watches as Meers straddles the bike behind Spike and scoots forward to sit
entirely too close in his opinion. He lets himself be bundled into the
impressively appointed Hummer, but finds himself wishing that he was the one
outside with Wil. He watches as Wil says something gesturing with his hands at
points on the motorcycle, no doubt telling
Gunn
does a quick check to make sure everyone’s belted in, then starts the Hummer
and sets the huge vehicle into motion with easy skill as Spike follows, keeping
pace beside the powerful truck. Liam tries to follow the
conversation in the truck, but finds his eyes keep returning again and again to
outside his window. He is mesmerised by the shifting of the muscles beneath the
black leather gear that is painted on Wil’s skin, as he expertly reins in the
powerful machine beneath him, keeping pace with them; his weight flowing in
sinuous grace to counterbalance the rhythm of riding. He wonders when riding a
motorcycle became pornographic, but has to laugh at his brain as it wallows in
the gutter of lust. Of COURSE Wil would find a motorcycle the perfect mode of
transportation; the rush of the wind, the thrill of the speed mixed with the
danger of being so openly exposed, the high of having something so powerful
beneath you and knowing you’re in total control of it. He glances out the
window again and his eyes narrow dangerously as Meers lets his hands slip down
from Wil’s waist to curve over his hips. It seems Meers is enjoying his ride
just a BIT too much for his liking. Liam resolves himself for being the one
riding with Wil on the way back…and every other time he mutters to himself,
smiling as the Commander looks over and tilts his head in perplexed curiosity.
He smiles and makes a waving motion with his hand and turns partially to keep
his back angled to the window and resolves to keep his mind on the business at
hand…rather than the business of where Meers’ hands are.
“You said that Demons are attracted to the true
Hunters…and Vampires especially…why?”
“Well Liam, when Spike called himself the price
that the ancient Elders paid to create the Slayers…he was actually pretty
accurate, though perhaps too simplistic in his phrasing. I explained how the
power used to create the Slayer would require a sacrifice of blood to balance
the scales as it were…I may have been a bit too technical about it.” Giles says
sadly. “The true Hunters are the mirror image of the Slayer, so where a Slayer
repels…”
“A true Hunter attracts.” Liam breathes in
horror. “Why would the ancients condemned people to live in this way, Giles?!
It’s barbaric and immoral! What is the point of it?!”
“The price of blood Liam is always the dearest
of costs. True Hunters are not created as Slayers are; they are born, what they
are, they are and to fight it is a futile gesture. Amalie knew that her son was
very special from the moment she gave birth to him and he escaped the fates of
his ancestors before him. He had to be trained for his own safety Liam, you
MUST recognise that?”
“He wouldn’t have had to have been anything but
a little boy if some old geezers hadn’t played God with his life Giles! Wil
didn’t ask to be fricking catnip for Demons or whatever he bloody is and what
your precious Council has turned him into. You know he called himself a KILLER
when Meers asked him what Hunters did?” Liam growls.
“That’s what he IS Colonel and you’d best just
bloody face up to that and ACCEPT it!” Gunn snarls menacingly. “He IS death
walking, that’s what we all are when we stop hiding behind the cute little
names and labels that we use to hide from the basic truth of our lives. Spike
will fight until he meets the bad-ass strong enough to take him down; THAT is
the reality of his life. As good as he is, sooner or later there will be
someone better or he’ll have a bad day or they’ll have themselves a bloody good
one and it’ll all be over. You don’t see him bitching and moaning about it, now
do you? He is the most vibrantly alive person I have ever met because he lives
his life to the fullest, every moment, and every second of it like it is his
last. Because in one moment, it could all be over.”
“Just pray to whatever Gods that he’s killed
rather than turned. You don’t want to ever face a Master Vampire that used to
be a true Hunter…it’ll be the last thing you’ll ever see.” Anya says; her voice
is calm but quavering, betraying her unease.
“Spike and Anya were almost killed taking on
Penn, the last of the True Hunters to be turned.” Giles says, reaching out to take
his wife’s hand and holds on tightly. “Six Hunters and their friend Kate were
killed to end Penn’s little reign of terror and there would have been more if
Penn hadn’t been distracted by Spike’s arrival. I imagine seeing his
grandnephew, several greats removed, must have been quite a shock for him.
Unfortunately Penn’s Sire and Mate escaped during the fight by the time Spike
recovered from his injuries it was too late.”
“It was too late for what Giles? Not for Wil
obviously, since he’s as alive and annoying as ever.”
“Drusilla was mad with grief and wanted revenge
for her Mate. She went after Buffy, striking a blow against the Council through
the death of the Slayer. She was staked by Xander, when he threw himself in
front of an arrow meant for Buffy. It wasn’t a mortal wound, but Drusilla was
frighteningly competent even in her madness, she’d poisoned the arrow with a
very rare, infallibly deadly poison with no known cure. He knew he was going to
die a slow and lingering death and there was nothing we could do to help him.
The pain was unimaginable…he tried to wait for William, but in the end the pain
was too great, he took his own life rather than suffer.” Giles says; the
mourning still clear in his voice. “All that was left in the end was for Spike to
bury him. He left a letter for him but none of us have ever read it. It seemed
to comfort him somewhat, better than any of us could do at least.”
“I…I never knew the details of how Xander died.
Buffy…they don’t talk about him much. I had no idea it was so horribly tragic.
I didn’t know that he and Wil were together.”
“Or that Wil even visited here quite often, I
know. He was always careful about his visits for Xander’s sake. He’d
established a cover with Buffy and her friends, only
“You’re right; I’ve been wondering who he
reminds me of!” Anya says with a pleased smile.
“He is a bit like Xan back before his training
started.” Gunn says fondly.
“Probably the reason Spike’s taken to him so
readily as well, he’s usually rather mistrustful of people until he’s taken
their measure for a while.” Wesley says, somewhat distracted by Gunn’s hand on
his thigh, which earns him a shy but bright smile from the normally reserved
Englishman.
Liam does a double take then shakes his head;
he’s probably misreading that gesture he’s sure.
“Yeah Spike, go ahead.” Wesley says suddenly.
Liam leans to the side so he can peek around the
seat and sees Wesley is pressing his fingertips to his ear and realises that
he’s wearing a state of the art mini ear mic that is even smaller and more
compact than the ones his own team uses.
“Open mic to Spike. Certainly, that’s a good
idea. We’ll meet you there. Standby mic.” Wesley says.
The motorcycle revs up and streaks ahead as Spike opens her up and lets the
horsepower fly. Liam grins as Meers’ startled shriek is clearly audible as the
powerful machine leaps ahead and down a side street. “Spike is going to stop
off and change, he doesn’t want to look like an escapee from a commando movie
in public, so he’s gone to change into some civvies.” Wesley reports for the
non-micced occupants of the truck.
Liam’s eyes climb in envy, obviously they’re
voice activated and far beyond the bulkier technology his team uses, so much
for having the best state of the art equipment! The Commander is looking about
as envious as he is and makes a small nodding motion with his head.
“Your mic set up is the best I’ve ever seen,
would you mind if I ask who makes it for you?” Liam asks striving for a casual
tone to conceal how interested he is and he sees the Commander sit farther forward
in his seat eagerly waiting to hear the answer as well.
“Gunn and Wesley make all our weaponry and
technological goodies. Giles and I oversee anything magical in nature as needed
with an able assist from Wes now and then. Those mic set-ups are one of our
best success stories.” Anya says proudly.
“A little bit country and a little bit
rock-n-roll as they say.” Gunn snips with a chuckle that his friends echo.
“Technology enhanced with a bit of wizardry, like most of our gear.”
“It’s unwise to trust your life to equipment
that is untried. All Hunters are well versed in assembling, servicing,
repairing, and improvising their own gear. I believe your military favours a
thirteen week basic training program?” Wesley says turning around in his seat.
“Depending on the branch, some can be almost a
year long.” The Commander says helpfully.
“Our basic training program for a Hunter is a
minimum of four years, with an additional four years of either military
experience or comparable apprenticeships, so all Hunters have a minimum of
eight years of training before they ever see active duty.” Wesley reveals much
to Woods and Liam’s shock. Not even some of the best trained, most elite combat
units in the
“Buffy told me that she was only 15 when she
began her training, and within a short time she was the Slayer.” Liam says
confused.
“Sadly the Slayer ranks were decimated at the
time and she was the only one that was strong enough, she does have surprising
depths of natural talent. She is the strongest Slayer yet.” Giles says sadly.
“It will be a blow to their ranks to have her retire, but it is necessary. The
Council has decided to make some policy changes. Slayers will serve no more
than eight years before retirement. That is the least that we can do, given
most have been in training for two to four years before they even have the
possibility of being strong enough to ascend to Slayer. They risk their lives
nightly, at least this way those that make it have a chance at still having a
decent quality of life left to live. With Spike as the first fully functional
Hunter in over a hundred years and the Hunter ranks swelling to record numbers,
the Council foresees we’ll be able to hold every Hellmouth in check.” Giles
says proudly.
“Of course that will severally limit direct
interplanal travel by their means but there are of course other ways to enter
this plane.” Anya adds somewhat fatalistically.
“And it also doesn’t take into account the
Demons and other nasty types that are already here.” Gunn adds.
“But having both the Slayer and the Hunter here
in Sunnydale should make this Hellmouth the primary target for interested
parties.” Wesley chimes in.
“Pardon me? Spike AND the Slayer will both be
here in Sunnydale?” Commander Woods says excitedly. “I thought you were all
going to retire?”
“There’s no such thing as retirement for Spike.
They’re born with their abilities and they’ll die with them. Spike is no
different in that regard.” Wesley says disgustedly. “We honestly just don’t
know what to expect from Spike as far as his development from this point on. No
Hunter has ever reached his level of development and maturity without being
bonded or turned. Penn came the closest, but he fell as all the others before
him did.”
“Bonded?” Liam asks, his eyes narrow and glint
dangerously.
“Not all of the Hunters fell to Vampires Liam.
Other Demons have taken them too, initiating pair bonds that finish them as
Hunters as readily as any Vampire’s fangs could. One true Hunter is bonded to
D’Hoffryn the master Demon of Arash Ma’har.” Anya says quietly. “There are
ancient tales that say that bonding or turning a true Hunter voluntarily
magnifies a Demon’s powers a hundredfold or more. Of course that could only be
just stories and fables.” Her tone of voice betrays the fact that she doesn’t
believe that for a second.
“You said Penn was some relative of Wil’s?” Liam
asks curiously.
“An Uncle MANY times removed. Wil’s something of
a legacy of sorts, he’s the third true Hunter produced by his family line and
as we explained earlier he’s rather unique in other ways.” Giles answers.
“Three Slayers have gone rogue in the last few hundred years, Hunters from
Wil’s bloodline took them all. Not really something to be proud of, as it
wasn’t done lightly and there were no other choices available, but it’s
impressive all the same.”
“It skips generations?” Commander Woods asks
interested in the mechanics of it all and how it must effects it must have on
the lives of the ‘fortunate’ gifted. “Or have there never been Father and Son
Hunters? I noticed you said the Lt. Colonel’s bloodline has produced other
Hunters, successful ones but you didn’t say his Family has; I thought that was
curious.”
“Well not precisely.” Giles says after several
moments. “There has never been a Father and Son as no true Hunter has ever
fathered a child in that way. Those that have been turned have been known to
sire Childer and some have fostered children while they were Hunters…but true
Hunters never have children of their own.” He adds finally.
“He means that they prefer men, it’s almost a
genetic predisposition built into their genetic codes. Not to get me wrong,
they like women as well in nearly every case, but all of their closest bonds
are always formed between males. We’re not really sure why that is, but we
expect it was a deliberate modification that was added to their genetic
make-up; perhaps as a way to control their population. The true Hunter genes
are carried by the matriarchal genome but manifest only in the Males under a
pretty confined set of genetic drift. There has been some discussion about
seeing if artificial insemination is effective, but Spike refused to be a test
subject for that.” Anya lectures.
“He opposed quite violently if I remember
correctly, as did we all.” Wesley adds.
“Yes, another factor that precipitated our early
‘retirement’. Spike is very protective and possessive, but strangely enough
that doesn’t seem to extend to a desire to father children. The Council can be
rather thoughtless at times and some factions can be a tad…” Anya glances at
Woods and Liam. “…Militant. We felt it would be best to pursue this course of
action.”
“They wouldn’t try to force him would they?!”
Liam exclaims in alarm.
“It would be the last thing they ever did if
they tried it.” Four voices growl in unison.
“Spike has always made it clear that he follows
MY orders, not those of the Council, so if they hope to keep his services to
them, they’ll have to deal with me. I’ve always done my best to look after Wil,
Liam I swear to you. I know that you’re angry that he had his childhood stolen
away from him like he did, but truly we had no choice or he would have been a
Vampire or worse by now.”
“I…understand that you feel that way, but I just
have trouble imagining what could be so dangerous that it was necessary. I
don’t have the benefits of your knowledge and experience to help me understand.
That’s why I’m here, I want to understand.” Liam admits honestly. “Then if I
decide that you’ve abused him, I’ll knock your fucking block off and do what I
have to do to get him away from all this.” He growls.
Giles and company amaze him by laughing. “We’d
have expected nothing less.” They all chime together as Gunn pulls into a
parking lot and parks the Hummer in a distant spot, but one directly under one
of the powerful floodlights. They all get out and congregate at the back of the
Hummer and Gunn unlocks one of the smaller sections of the rear trailer and
Woods and Liam watch in shock as a transformation takes place. Gunn whips off
his coat and he and Wesley hold it up like a dressing screen, their faces
turned discreetly away as Anya leans over the open compartment.
After a few minutes, she taps their shoulders
and they drop the coat. It’s revealed that she has taken off her coat and top
and replaced it with a pretty soft green cotton tunic top with off the shoulder
sleeves. A colourful sash in a brighter shade of green is tied at a jaunty
angle, blousing the top attractively over it and bringing the slashed sides up
to just before mid-thigh. Pretty sparkling earrings dangle from her ears, her
hair is softly tousled and she’s removed her web belts and other gear. The
leather pants and boots remain but the overall look is youthful and fresh and
softened by the different top and softer hair. She looks wonderful.
Gunn and Wesley quickly shed their own coats and
tops, folding them neatly and placing them into the compartment. Their bared
chests are wildly different, Gunn’s being broader and much more heavily
muscled, but Wesley’s own musculature is surprisingly development and it
becomes clear that he is more than just a run of the mill bookworm type.
Gunn leans over and pulls out a simple grey
sleeveless tank top and slips it over his head and tucks it into his pants then
pulls his belts off. He lifts out a simple chain belt and threads that through
his belt loops before closing it over his belly with a decorative dragon clasp,
leaving the ends to trail slightly off-centre over one of his legs. He slides on
some heavy studded bicep bracers that hug his impressive upper arms, the black
leather and silver gleaming softly in the lights of the parking lot. Slimmer
silver chains are clasped around his wrists and several heavy silver rings are
pushed onto several fingers. He leans over and Wesley slides a curious dangling
silver earring into his left earlobe. He picks up the trailing end of the
earring and flips it up before closing a dragon shaped cuff over the top curve
of his ear. The effect might have looked effeminate on some, but it only
reinforces how masculine Gunn is in his case.
Wesley pulls on a simple white button-front
cotton long-sleeved shirt. He tucks it in, arranging it to blouse loosely and
comfortably. Gunn and Anya move forward smoothly and catch his arms rolling
back the sleeves neatly to his elbows. Gunn helps him button the first several
buttons, smoothing his lapels down as he flips up the collar. Anya leans over
and pulls out something from the compartment that she snaps out sharply and holds
it up. Wesley turns holding his arms out and Anya slides on the simple denim
vest and slides it into place as Gunn smoothes down the collar neatly as Wesley
turns his attention to removing his web belts. He closes the buttons low on the
vest, tailoring it to his stomach. Wes leans over and runs his hands through
his hair before flipping back up, leaving his hair with a sexily rumpled look.
Gunn slides a vaguely Asian looking green and black jade pendant on a leather
cord around his throat and secures it. They all carefully remove their ear mic
assemblies and Gunn carefully packs each in a small, well padded, hard plastic
case. Wesley holds out his hands and Giles urges Liam and Woods to hand over
their jackets, which they do. Gunn and Anya take them and folding them neatly,
place them into the compartment and lock it again. While they still hardly
scream ‘civilian’ their clothing shouldn’t make them stand out too much without
their insignia and military accoutrements.
It takes less than five minutes but they all
look like they’ve spent an hour getting ready and it’s obvious that they’re old
hands at the quick change. Giles laughs at the amazed looks on their faces and
throws an arm around Woods and Liam. “As often as I’ve seen them do that, it
still amazes me too.” He says with an amused chuckle but his smile is kind and
understanding as he pulls away and holds his hand out for Anya. She is at his
side in a moment, taking his hand as they stroll towards the nearest entrance
to the club. Gunn throws a heavy arm around Wesley’s shoulders, hooking the
thumb of his free hand over the lip of a pocket and strides after the pair.
Liam glances at Woods and raises his eyebrow.
“I think I can walk on my own Liam, thanks
anyway.” The Commander says with a wink and saunters after the pairs and Liam
howls in laughter and follows. They pay the cover charge and get their hands
stamped once they flash their ID’s showing their old enough to drink and head
inside. Wesley spots the perfect table in a quiet corner that’s large enough
for them all, with a great view of the club but unfortunately it’s occupied by
several rough looking types. Gunn follows his line of sight and his lips curve
up in a strange half smile that is more than a little menacing and strides over
to the table. Wesley grins and waves for everyone to follow him and heads for
the table as its former occupants quickly abandon it and file meekly past them.
“I love it when he does that.” Wesley says with
a devilish smile. “Between him and Spike, we always manage to get the best
tables.” He pauses to press a kiss to Gunn’s cheek before sliding into a chair
with a happy wiggle. Gunn takes the seat next to him and he unashamedly wraps
an arm around Wesley’s shoulders.
One by one the others follow, sure to leave two
chairs in reserve for their still absent friends. A waitress hurries over to
the table within moments of Gunn catching her eye.
“What can I get for you?” She asks after doing a
swift check at their age stamps.
“I’ll have a double Black Orgasm and a large
Ginger Ale please; the mixer not the Ale.” Anya orders quietly.
“I’ll have a
“Just bring a bottle of JD with two glasses
please.” Gunn says as he glances at the small menu. “Two of the onion blossoms
and two of the sampler platters please, with extra zucchini and ranch dressing,
but hold the Buffalo Wings please.”
“I’ll just have a beer please; whatever you have
on tap is fine.” Woods decides.
Liam thinks for a moment. “I’ll just have a
large Vanilla coke with a Chocolate stir stick please.” He’s still on duty so
it is best if he keeps the alcohol content light for now.
“It’s alright Liam, we’re still on duty, but if
we can pull this off, we’ll have done more for the cause than anyone has in
years.” Woods leans over to whisper. “I think they’re going to like what I have
to propose, but let’s enjoy a bit of a review of just how good they are at what
they do first.”
Liam nods understandingly. “I’ll have a glass of
the best Irish whiskey you’ve got as well.” He adds for the waitress’ benefit.
Giles pulls out his wallet and pulls out a
hundred dollar bill and a fifty and lays it on her tray. “You can keep whatever
is left over as a tip.” He says with a smile, knowing a little generosity now
will result in excellent service for the evening.
The waitress nods and hurries off to put in the
orders, a huge smile on her face. Liam glances around the club, his eyes narrowing
as he spies several familiar faces in the crowd and his smile hardens into a
frown.
Giles notices and leans over to say. “What’s
wrong Liam?”
He motions across the dance floor to a trio of
men. Despite being dressed in civilian clothing, they practically shout their
military background. “That’s Riley Finn and two of his bully boys, Miller and
Forrest, from the old Initiative project that we dismantled when we took over.
The last I heard, they’d been reassigned to the research station at McMurdo.”
“
“Obviously someone has sprung them from their
duty though.” Liam mutters darkly. Woods scowls and is quickly on his phone
with every intention of finding out what those three are doing back in his
town.
They talk quietly so as not to disturb Woods’
phone call. The waitress returns with their drinks and a little while after
that she’s back with their appetisers. After a few minutes Woods slams his
phone closed with a violent snap that doesn’t bode well for someone. Before
they can ask him what he learned Anya suddenly starts laughing in a clearly
devilish way.
“Things are about to get verrrrry interesting.”
She motions across the dance floor and everyone turns to look and freezes.
Either
Spike’s changed into painted on black leather
jeans that ride so low on his hips; it’s a wonder of fashion science that they
stay up at all. A silver chain belt, not unlike Gunn’s, is threaded through the
belt loops. A silky looking vivid blue T-shirt is poured over his chest and
tucked into his leather jeans neatly, but the fabric of it is so sheer he may
as well not be wearing a shirt at all. A black leather sleeveless waistcoat has
been expertly made and tailored to hug his chest perfectly. The front is
harshly cutaway baring most of his chest from the shoulders to just before his
belly button, before the material swoops back in. Crisscrossing leather ties
are threaded through grommets on either side of the vest and are laced and
pulled together, so about two inches of the shirt underneath peeks through
them. The vest ends a couple of inches above the waistband of the leather jeans
and the glint of metal peeks from his navel betraying the fact that it’s
pierced by a simple stud. Several thick silver chains encircle each wrist and
several fingers of both hands sport masculine silver and onyx rings. A
collection of whimsical silver chains encircles his throat and dangles down his
chest at varying heights. A simple black leather collar with silver accents is
clasped around his throat and a pair of silver studs peek out from his left
earlobe. His scarred brow sports another simple silver piercing and his feet
sport simple black leather boots that sport several decorative silver chains.
His ever present Duster is casually tossed over his arm, as it is warm enough
to do without it inside.
The
outfit is very much like Spike himself is, a little larger than life with a
distinct air of pure sexuality, simply presented with no apologies and no
quarter given. As they watch, Spike motions towards them and starts heading for
their table with Meers at his heels. Before they can reach the table, several
men and women try to stop the pair, but Spike grabs
Liam is about to jump to his feet to teach the
lummox some manners, when Spike does something that has him glued to his seat.
His raises his hand and strokes his fingertips along the heifer’s cheek as
tenderly as a lover. He tilts his head to the side and smiles and says
something that has
“Okay Spike, fess up…what did you say to the
giant that had him looking like he came right in the middle of the dance
floor.” Anya says laughing with a knowing grin. Hearing her
“He…he told him…”
“He wasn’t much of a challenge.” Spike says
dismissingly. “What has your underwear in a bunch, you all look about as happy
as Lobsters at a cookout?”
Liam explains about their unwelcome surprise in
the form of Mr. Finn and his friends.
“That would be the same Riley Finn that made
Xander miserable would it?” Spike asks softly but his eyes glint with diamond
shards of icy intent.
“None of my contacts seems to know who sprung
that trash from their duty posts in McMurdo, but it seems they have orders to
report to me tomorrow for assignment to one of the action teams.” Woods barks,
clearly not pleased by this turn of events. “Those three, Finn especially, are
nothing but trouble which is why I pulled strings to get them posted as far
aware as humanly possible.”
“They must have some friends in mighty high
places if they’re back, and no doubt they’re here for some agenda of their own.
Having those yahoos back is just going to make things go from bad to worse on
the Demon front. It could be the match that sends up the whole powder keg.”
Liam snarls.
“We need to know why they’re really here and who
is helping them.” Woods says angrily.
Spike smiles coolly and his eyes darken and
flare with a dangerous fire that has several people starting to get fidgety in
their seats. “I think that I’ll go have a little ‘talk’ with Mr. Finn and find
out what we want to know shall I?” Spike rolls out of his chair in a lazy roll
and carefully folds his Duster over the back of his chair. “I think I need to
make a bit of an impression on the gentleman to smooth the way a bit, mind if I
borrow your Pet, Mate?” Spike glances at Gunn who smiles and shakes his head.
Spike slips around the table slowly and holds
his hand out to Wesley; who stands and melts against his side as Spike wraps an
arm around him to slide his hand into his back pocket. The pair strolls
casually to the dance floor, glued together so tightly that their hips roll in
unison as they walk. They sway and weave their way through the other dancers
until they’re in the centre of the floor, but instead of dancing, they twine
around each other, just gently swaying through the song currently playing
finishes up. A familiar pounding bass track starts playing; Spike and Wesley
laugh and turn to face each other. They stamp their feet to the beat, before
bouncing into a dance that would be more at home on stage at a live sex show
rather than a dance club in a Hellmouth tainted college town. They bump and
grind like boneless marionettes, their bodies are pure fluid sexuality as the
Kinks’ My Sherona blasts from the club’s speakers.
It’s obvious that Spike and Wesley have put on a
show like this before, as they rock and rub together only to pull away
playfully, chasing each other around the floor, only to dart away just as their
bodies brush together. Liam narrows his eyes as he watches the pair, glancing
at Gunn and shaking his head in wonderment as the big man smiles as he watches
the pair affectionately. The playful pair soon find
themselves in the proverbial spotlight as dancers slowly clear the way for the
sensual duel the dancing pair is laughingly engaging in. Liam notices that they
are slowly but surely working their way closer to Finn and his cohorts, a fact
that hasn’t escaped and appreciative Riley Finn.
Just on the ending beat, Spike spins on his
heel, turning his back to Wesley who obligingly ‘bumps’ him straight into Finn
who plays the gallant Galahad and catches him. Liam growls deep in his chest as
Riley seems less than quick in removing his arms from around Spike and getting
his hand off his leather painted ass. Wes quietly makes his way through the
dancers and off the floor with a huge smile and manic eyes.
“He’s SO dead.” Wesley laughs breathlessly. “We’ll
be in the truck.” Wes grabs Gunn’s hand and the pair scamper out of the club,
their hands already moving restlessly over each other.
“Well…we’ll be seeing them in an hour or two.”
Anya quips and everyone laughs though a blush or two betrays the fact that
everyone knows they’re hardly going to be out there talking.
Liam turns his attention back to Spike and
almost growls again as he sees that he’s leaning against the wall surrounded by
Finn, Forrest, and Miller looking like a mouse cornered by a trio of hungry
alley cats.
“He’s going to peel them like grapes.” Anya says
with a laugh.
*As long as the son of a bitch doesn’t try to
eat him I’ll deal.* Liam thinks as he watches as Wil skilfully manages to
manoeuvre Riley away from the others and onto the dance floor. He clenches his
hands into fists as Riley reaches out and strokes Wil’s cheekbone, he responds
by stepping closer and letting his hand drop to Finn’s thigh. They’re barely
dancing he notices, just kind of swaying and talking with soft touches now and
then by Wil that have Riley straining to get closer to him like a horse
straining at its reins. His eyebrows rise as he realises that Wil is carefully
moving across the dance floor until he’s practically back at their table. He
makes a graceful exit, stalking slowly back towards the table with a glance and
a wave over his shoulder to Finn. As he turns back around the sexy smirk
softens into a wicked grin as he walks slowly away from Riley, his muscles
moving fluidly under the leather skins.
“Hey wait! You didn’t tell me your name or when
I can see you again!” Riley calls out after him.
Spike meets Liam’s eyes and winks saucily as he
stops and slowly looks over his shoulder at Finn. “No I didn’t.” He slowly
turns his head back around and continues on his way back to the table, grinning
as he knows that Finn is unconsciously following him.
“You have to tell me who you are!” Finn calls
out again.
Spike plants his foot and swings his hips slowly
around as his hands brace on his hips and he’s facing Finn again. “Who do you
want me to be?” Spike asks quietly, his voice deepening into a purring cadence
that is more sexual than a moan of fulfilment after an hour messing up the
sheets of a bed…repeatedly.
“Oh now that was just pure wickedness!” Finn squeaks.
“What can I say Pet? I’m anything but an Angel
you know.” Spike purrs as he slowly turns around and walks back to the table as
Finn stares gaping after him.
Liam laughs as the purely dumbfounded look on
Finn’s face as he stares like a gasping fish after Wil. He pulls Wil’s chair
next to his and turns it at a slight angle with a glint in his eye.
Spike chuckles as he sits down and Liam drops
his arm over his shoulder, letting it rest against his chest in a clearly
familiar and possessive gesture that shouts ‘hands off’. Finn looks outraged as
he realises who Liam is and storms off, pushing his way through the crowd and
earning himself a lot of dirty looks from the people he’s jostling.
“Well learn anything interesting?” Liam asks as
he hooks his chin over his shoulder and they watch Finn rejoin his friends,
gesturing wildly, obviously in the middle of a tantrum.
“I’m in like Flynn.” Spike says with a chuckle,
his hand lifting to cover Liam’s as it rests against his abdomen.
“Don’t you mean in like FINN?” Anya asks
laughing as everyone else groans at the play on words and finally joins her.
Liam chuckles and tightens his arm in an
affectionate squeeze and realises how much he’s missed the bundle of trouble
that is Wil and he’s glad that the pain in the ass is around again. “So are you
going to tell us what you found out about our Mr. Finn there? Aside from the
fact his sense of rhythm is about as good as his fashion sense that is.”
“Oh Meow, meow, there, there Kitten put away the
claws until you can sharpen them on the plump Mr. Finn tomorrow hmmm?” Spike
quips with a smirk that turns into a chuckle as Liam growls and bites his
shoulder in fake menace. “If that’s supposed to scare me I have to say it’s
just turning me on.” Spike chuckles as Liam blushes but doesn’t remove his arm,
not wanting to appear so easily flustered. He leans back against Liam as his
eyes spark dangerously as his eyes track Finn and his friends leaving the club.
“He has orders to report to the Commander tomorrow as you already know. He told
me it was some sort of ‘diplomatic’ goodwill assignment, like he’s the Pope or
Ghandi or something rather than a lowlife skank in the grass. He mentioned he
was particularly looking forward to working with a Colonel O’Donnell again but
I got the definite impression he’s more interested in you than he was letting
on. He told me he was previously assigned to a research station in
Liam and Woods glance at each other and swear
violently, sharing a glance of disgust.
“We should have known Wilkins would be mixed up
in this!” Liam growls.
“Who is Senator Wilkins?” Giles asks, not
familiar with the name at all.
“He was married to Maggie Walsh, the woman that
ran Project: Initiative until she played God one time too many and one of her
pet projects bit her in the ass. Fatally.” Liam says
disgusted.
“He’s also just taken over one of the
appropriation committees the President assigned to oversee military
expenditures and determine the viability of on-going projects and resources.”
Woods says with a groan. “He’s probably going to threaten to cut off our
government subsidies if we don’t do whatever it is he’s planning to manipulate
us into, using Finn there as a middle man.”
“We’ll see you one constipated Senator and raise
you several multi-billionaires and one Englishman that plays chess with the
President by email and thinks we don’t know that.” Spike says with a grin as
Giles flushes and ducks his head modestly. “No reason to tip our hands at this
point of things though is there?” The gleam in his eyes doesn’t bode well for
Finn and company.
“What do you have in mind?” Woods asks slowly
smiling.
“Assign them to the Colonel’s unit where he can
keep an eye on them while he runs them ragged and give you a chance to see what
they’re up to and once we know we squish them like roaches?” Anya says with a
grin. “Spike and the boys and I will gladly lend a hand as I believe you
mentioned to Giles earlier?” Woods nods. “While we’re helping the unit, Spike
will have the access to Finn that he’ll need to turn him from mole to Benedict
Arnold. Once Spike has him eating out of his hand we can use him to gain access
to their network and see just how deep this goes. Once we know who is involved
we dismantle the network to the last man, woman and idiot, starting with Finn.”
Liam is starting to grin at the thought of
having Riley’s neck under his boot heel as he slowly crushes the life out of
him. He’s not happy about having the idiot so close to Wil on a nightly basis
but if it will get rid of the corn-fed
Everyone laughs and grabs a drink of their own
and raises their glasses. “To Operation: Roach Motel.” They all say in unison
before tossing back their drinks and laughing.
Liam hugs Wil once more than removes his arm and
sits back in his chair, trying to tell himself he’s not regretting letting him
go and grabs the bottle of Jack Daniel’s and pours himself another glass before
tossing it back with a flick of his wrist.
A dishevelled Gunn and Wes come back, clinging
together and looking worn out.
“What did we miss?” They ask in unison, sharing
a look of bewilderment as everyone else breaks into a fresh round of laughter.
They shrug their shoulders and slide back into their chairs and toss back their
own drinks and pick at the appetisers. They’ll be filled in eventually but for
now they’ll just enjoy the company of good friends. Strange
though they may be.
TBC