Title: The Soldier Diaries: Relative Issues: Part
Three
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~
Riley Finn strides into the conference room with all the
pride and arrogance of a King and promptly trips over his feet as he spies a
smiling Spike sitting next to Colonel O’Donnell. Forrest and Miller plough into
him like a stack of dominoes tumbling into each other making for a truly
ignominious entrance.
Liam and Commander Woods have sudden coughing
fits to cover their amusement, but Spike doesn’t bother, just laughing out
loud, setting Anya and Gunn into answering chuckles.
Wesley almost turns blue with his effort to hold in his laughter and Giles
pulls off his glasses and furiously cleans them of the invisible spots on them.
They’re all sitting around the oval table, leaving the last three chairs at the
other end free for the new arrivals.
“If you Gentlemen can manage to find your chairs without
the need to visit the infirmary, we can get this meeting started.” Liam says
drolly, the barest hint of a smirk curves up one corner of his mouth.
Anya rolls her eyes as the three reach to pull out the same
centre chair. “Maybe we should use place cards with their names on them?” She
suggests helpfully and Liam and the Commander start coughing again, while her
own team-mates just laugh openly.
Spike pushes back his chair, strips off his Duster and
walks around the table to hang it up on the coat rank. His tight sleeveless
T-shirt, leather fatigues and boots are all very form-fitting and manage to cling
in ways that standard issue fatigues just can’t hope to beat. Spike stalks
slowly around the table and Liam notices that Riley’s eyes track his every
movement, not leaving him for a second and he wants to growl, but manages to
restrain himself.
Liam smiles warmly as Spike deliberately draws his palm
slowly along his shoulder in a subtle, but clearly intimate gesture; as he
retakes his chair next to him; that has Riley’s eyes narrowing in jealousy. He
grins and Commander Woods almost laughs, but manages to pull himself together
and brings the meeting to order by introducing the three young men, who jump up
to salute smartly, sending Spike and Gunn into chuckles while Anya looks very
unimpressed.
“Forgive me Sir, but why are these civilians here?” Forrest asks; managing to make it sound like it is
an insult. Of course all of them realise that it in fact is one.
“Corporal, I would thank you to keep a civil tongue. These people are here at the invitation of the
President himself and they are honoured guests of this command, am I clear?”
Commander Woods barks; frowning at the young man’s disparaging remark. “We’ve
been trying to arrange this meeting for over ten years, would you like to
explain to the President how you single-handedly managed to wreck years of
diplomacy?”
“Sir, no, Sir.” The
soldier barks, looking severely embarrassed as his compatriots shoot him barely
disguised dirty looks.
Commander Woods rolls his eyes and continues. “This is Mr.
Rupert Giles; he is currently the head of the Watchers Council. I trust you are
familiar with the particulars of who that is.” His voice makes it clear that if
they are not knowledgeable than it would be a very good idea if they were to become so immediately.
Giles nods to the trio politely and the Commander
continues. “His escort are comprised of several of their best Hunters.” He
stands and strolls to place his hands on the back of Gunn’s chair. “This is
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.”
Gunn remains stoically silent and his lack of a greeting or acknowledgement of
the newcomers speaks volumes about his disdain for them.
The Commander moves behind Wesley’s chair. “This is Mr.
Giles' 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-trained and as I understand it will be the primary
Watcher for the Slayer in this area.”
Wesley pushes his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose
and seems about as excited to meet the trio as he would be to meet a dentist
with a drill in his hand. The Commander moves behind Anya’s chair.
“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. She is also Mr. Giles’ wife in case you missed her last name and I
expect the men of this command to treat her accordingly.” The Commander leaves
little doubt that something very unpleasant will happen should Anya be bothered
by any male chauvinist behaviour.
Anya is too busy blowing kisses to Giles across the table
to bother to acknowledge the trio. The Commander hides a smile and stops behind
Spike’s chair.
“Lt. Colonel William Bradley, retired, 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.” The Commander moves back
to take a seat at the head of the table.
“Just call me Spike, no one but Liam and Giles here call me
Wil.” Spike says simply, his eyes still locked on Riley. A snort of laughter
draws his eyes back to Forrest. “I don’t think someone named after a bunch of
trees is really in a position to be laughing at my name do you, Mate?” Liam finally can’t help but laugh and he’s
not the only one.
“Perhaps it would help your discipline Corporal, if I were
to mention that our visitors have had their commissions reactivated for the
duration of this exchange of ours.” Commander Woods says dryly. “They have been
officially assigned to this command under the direction of Colonel O’Donnell
with the full cooperation of Mr. Giles and the Watchers Council.” Commander
Woods nods to Liam, turning over the responsibility for the rest of the meeting
to him.
“Corporal, you may step outside. You’ll be reassigned
effective immediately. I won’t tolerate the disrespect you’ve shown here
repeatedly, to a superior officer. I’m sure we can find some hole to put you
in, where you won’t have to learn any manners.” Liam says implacably.
Forrest looks at Riley for support, but he stubbornly
refuses to acknowledge him or speak up in his defence. Miller noting that it
would career suicide to cross not only a Colonel but a Lt. Colonel with strong
diplomatic and political ties and a three star General wisely keeps silent. He
tries a pleading a glance at the Commander, but it comes off as being more
arrogant than regretful and avails him nothing but a cold glance.
“You can walk or I can call for some officers to escort you
to the detention facility. It’s your choice.” Liam says with utter finality,
making no effort to disguise his disdain.
Realising that no one is going to speak up for him and
unwilling to risk greater disciplinary action, Forrest stands.
“Report to the Duty Master’s desk and tell him that I sent
you. He’ll pull your file and put you somewhere useful until I decide what your
disciplinary action will consist of.” Liam orders implacably.
Forrest snaps off an abbreviated and abrupt salute and all
but stamps out of the room, but he is careful to close the door quietly rather than slamming it in a
juvenile display.
Liam turns his attention to the other two newcomers. “I
trust I will not be putting you two on report for insubordination as well?”
“Sir, no, Sir!”
Miller retorts crisply.
“No Sir. I am looking forward to working closely with your
unit.” Riley responds sharply, but Liam notices his eyes never stray from
Spike.
He doesn’t need to glance over to know that he is only
responding to the looks the deadly blond is directing at him first and almost
laughs at how easily manipulated he is. He’s not happy having to use Spike to
get to Riley, even though it seems almost comically easy at this point. If it
will forever break the last holds that keep The Initiative turning up time and
again like a demented jack-in-the-box than he’ll have to accept it as the ends
justifying the means.
“Sir about Forrest…” Riley begins to say.
“He is no longer a matter that concerns you. I will deal
with the Corporal’s breach of etiquette myself as I see fit. I will not
tolerate conduct unbecoming and should he continue to be a problem case I will take the necessary steps to begin
court-martial proceedings. While the Lt. Colonel and his team are stationed
with us, they WILL be treated with
the utmost respect at all times. Is that understood?” Commander Woods barks
implacably and Finn and Miller salute smartly.
Liam stands up. “Gear up and meet me at the Hummer out
front. We’ll do a shakedown patrol and get accustomed to our various fighting
styles and then back here for a debriefing.” He informs Finn and Miller. “We’ll
be practicing a standard pairing breakdown in the field with Anya as our
coordinator in the field unit. Finn since you’re already familiar with Miller
you’ll be paired up with him. Gunn, you’ll partner with Wesley and Wil will be
partnered with me.” Liam almost laughs at the disappointed look on Finn’s face
and the jealous gleam in his eye. “Remember our job isn’t to get ourselves
killed. This institution has invested a lot of time and manpower in training
you to be the best that there is, let’s try and be sure that they get their
money’s worth. That means if you spot any groups of more than six Vampires;
that’s three a piece people; or any Demon species you don’t recognise than you
call for assistance. Are we clear?”
Everyone chimes in with an affirmative as they quickly
break into their pairings and make their way to the either the gear up room or
out to the vehicles. Liam strides along pleased that Spike’s curiously silent,
stalking stride is well matched at keeping up with him.
“You walk funny.” Liam notes absently.
“And you have poofy hair; so your point is?” Spike snipes
back with a grin that becomes a smirk as Liam misses a step and almost trips,
trying to get a glance at his hair in one of the office windows.
“I mean you walk like a cat does and you hardly make any
noise at all.” He looks down at Spike’s feet and notices that while his boots
are reinforced in several key spots like his shins, ankles, and insteps, they
have curiously flat soles with only a slight heel and deeply cut treads.
Spike follows the line of his gaze. “We have a supplier
that custom makes our uniforms and footwear, in fact all our gear is custom
made to some pretty exacting standards. Gunn’s about your size and I happen to
know he’s brought along several spare kits, including a new set he just
commissioned. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind letting you try them out. If you like
it, I can have Giles put in an order for you. After we get out of here, want to
come back with us to our place? I’ve got an inventory list on a CD-Rom that we
can look through. Gunn probably wouldn’t mind showing you his workshop. He’s
been working on several weapon concepts that I think you may be interested in.”
“Wow, that sounds terrific, but it takes months to get a
purchase voucher out of the requisition office.” Liam says with a disgusted
snort. “By the time I got the okay to purchase new equipment, I’ll probably be
close to retirement.”
“You have more than enough money to buy them yourself Liam.
Mother set aside a trust fund for you and I became the Executor on my
twenty-first birthday. Anya has a talent for the stock market and I asked her
to handle our portfolios. The last time I checked, we were both millionaires
many times over.” Spike reveals with a smile. “Thanks to Anya’s deft hand with
financial concerns, we’re all
disgustingly wealthy. Anya was actually hoping to find some time to talk to you
about your finances, so don’t be surprised if she wrestles you down about it at
some point.”
“Why would Amalie make provisions for me in her will? It
should have all gone to you.” Liam says embarrassed and sad that after all
their years apart that his Step-Mother still loved him enough to provide for
his future.
“Mother’s family was and is very well off. Her estate
alone, not counting what she inherited from her Father and Grandfather, was
almost seventy-five million. She provided you with a twenty million dollar
trust out of that, but Anya’s easily trebled or maybe quadrupled that amount. I
buy all our gear and kits personally; I just don’t trust them to anything but
the best that money can buy. I’ll never be able to spend it all in my lifetime
or even a dozen lifetimes, despite having set up sizeable trust funds for some
worthy causes. Come over tonight and let us get you kitted out.” Spike stops
and catches Liam on the shoulder and squeezes it lightly. “You’re family Liam
and she wanted you to have and to use
that money. It’d make her happy to know that you’ve accepted it Liam.”
“I don’t think I did anything to deserve it Wil, but I’ll
accept it because it’s what she wanted.”
“You deserved her love Liam and it’s why she wanted to make
sure that you would always be taken care of. So stop whinging and just suck it
up and learn to live with being filthy rich.” Spike grins and digs into his
Duster pocket for his cigarettes and lighter and cheerfully lights one up.
“You know those are bad for you.” Liam says staring and
wishing he hadn’t given up the habit as he watches Spike’s obvious enjoyment of
the oral experience. “I was always surprised that Amalie let you smoke
honestly. My Father yelled at me till he was blue in the face when he found out
I’d picked up the habit. I finally had to quit just to shut
him up about it.”
“They’re good for me actually, as strange as that sounds.
I’ve been smoking since I was a boy. I have to smoke to stay healthy, how’s that for twist?” Liam looks startled by that.
“The doctors found out when I was a boy that I have a very aggressive immune
system and that I heal unusually fast, almost faster than a Slayer does.
They’ve speculated that I might actually be able to regenerate a lost limb, but
thankfully they’ve never had the opportunity to study that particular
hypothesis so far. They were at first worried that having my body’s healing
abilities always ‘turned on’ but with nothing to heal, would inevitably cause
unnecessary systemic damage and stress. The cumulative effects would lead to
eventual systemic degradation on a cellular level, much like a Slayer experiences
when her body starts to break down.”
“Ah I get it. The smoking gives your body just enough
damage to repair to prevent it ‘overcompensating’ but yet doesn’t cause any
debilitating physical problems that could impair you in the field?”
“It’s a much more pleasant option than wearing some pain
inducer, which was an option they discussed initially but Mother and Giles
absolutely forbid it. Between the smoking and healing from our scuffles in the
field, it maintains my health and prevents cellular burnout quite efficiently.”
“Good for them!” Liam growls; angry that the thought was
ever even considered.
“Giles and Roger, Wesley’s father, they have both protected
me after a fashion from unnecessary testing. Some is unavoidable of course,
both for my sake and for the sake of any that should be born after me. They’ve
learned enough from studying my development to be able to come up with a
testing series. It should be able to identify true Hunters younger than ever
before and increase the survival rate.” Spike says quietly. “Roger is taking
over for Giles, but as much as I trust him, it seemed prudent to retire from
active service like Giles is. I’m sure they’ll be calling on us from time to
time but I’d rather they not have the impression that they can order us around.”
“Well as wealthy as you…we are; they must not have many
ways of manipulating you.”
“That’s not really why they’re cautious about trying to do
that.” Spike says with a wicked smirk. “Mum never told you much about her
family, did she?” Liam shakes his head and looks curious.
“We’ve got relatives pretty high up in the governing bodies
of the Self-Governing Territories of
“So the Council gets on your case and they basically piss
off the government?” Liam’s laughter explodes and Spike joins him. “You’re safe
as houses aren’t you?”
Spike sobers right away. “There is no such thing, as a
soldier you should know that better than anyone.” Spike says stoically. “There
will always be people and organisations to be wary of, like The Initiative
blokes you helped shut down. The right hand doesn’t always know what the left
hand is doing and that is the same everywhere. I’m lucky in that my personal
circumstances and the connections I have from my time in the service, I’m
fairly insulated from the worst of the machinations of rival organisations
within the government and the Council, at least on my ‘home territory’ I am.
Here, I’m not safe at all on several fronts and I think you know those as well
as I do.” Spike’s voice is soft and casual but Liam can hear the steel beneath
the surface.
Liam sobers right away as well and is scowling darkly. “The
Initiative remains a concern certainly. I don’t for a moment believe that we
shut them down completely. The arrivals of Finn and his cronies would certainly
support that. If I had to hazard a guess I’d say that they’ve only moved their
operation rather than abandoned the project. I don’t think that their base of
operation remains in this country however as their chance of discovery is too
great. After the scandal they’ll be leery and cautious about operating on
“Their operation has moved to a converted munitions factory
forty miles north of Puerto Cabezas, on the coast of
“Christ, are you sure of that information?” Liam asks
swearing under his breath.
“After what happened between Finn and Buffy Summers, the
Council made it their business to find out everything that they could about The
Initiative. Their threat to future Slayers had to be ascertained and steps were
taken to be sure that every Potential, Hunter, and Watcher knew what to watch
for as far as recruitment attempts. They have tried on several occasions to
approach fledgling potentials in an attempt to recruit them. In one instance a
Watcher and a Hunter stepped in to prevent an abduction of another young
Potential. The Council has some pretty extensive files on them and I believe
that he’s brought them with him to discuss with Commander Woods.”
Liam grins coldly. “We’ve only been able to ferret out a
few of the power brokers behind The Initiative, but with your help we just may
find a way to dismantle it completely.”
Spike looks hopefully but resigned. “You won’t be able to
touch their facility in
Liam grins broadly at the thought of The Initiative being
shut down for good. “I’d love to see Finn get what he deserves. I hope when the
time comes they let me blindfold him before they lead him out in front of the
firing squad.”
“They don’t use firing squads anymore, do they?” Spike asks
with a chuckle.
“I hope they make an exception in Finn’s case.” Liam says
grimly.
“Things were that bad when he tried to recruit Buffy?”
Spike asks surprised.
“He didn’t just try to ‘recruit’ her.” Liam mutters and
understanding dawns in Spike’s eyes and he tightens the hand on Liam’s shoulder
in silent support and drops his hand.
“He won’t be a problem for Buffy this time around.” Spike
says with a grim smile and a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“I don’t feel any better knowing he’s going after you instead.” Liam mumbles under his
breath but Spike grins as he hears him say it all the same.
“He’s not my type, just a bit too corn-fed, Captain Kirk
for me, but it makes him easy to manipulate, which works to our advantage. I
don’t think he’s ever entertained the notion that he could possibly be sexually
attracted to a man before. He fancies himself as a predator, a shark among all
us fat little fishes. He’ll give himself to me body and soul before I’m
finished with him and he’ll betray everything in the end because nothing he has
is his own. It’s all been given to him, he’s defined by the job, the duty, that
he feels is his and he will willingly give it all to me.”
“You’re that positive that you can do that? Finn’s no
Einstein, but he is a fair bit of a soldier if a bit too ‘Yes Sir’ for my
taste. Just because someone can give you an order, it doesn’t necessarily mean
that it is the right thing to do. Finn’s never bothered to stop and ask himself
if what The Initiative does is right or not. Killing, well that’s rather
unavoidable in most cases when it comes to Demons, like in wartime soldiers on
both sides will fall. To experiment on them like lab rats…we’ve got laws
against that kind of inhumane treatment even for animals, why shouldn’t that
apply to Demons?”
Spike grins. “You’re preaching to the converted Pet. The
Council maintains diplomatic relations with several species of non-aggressive
and pacifistic Demons. Not all Demons are a threat to humans, there are even
some that prove beneficial. Giles has a copy of database, another gift for
Commander Woods.”
“YOU’RE in more
danger than any Slayer or the other Hunters Wil, you have to know that. You’re
something…special.” Liam says worriedly.
“Yes I know, a Slayer but without the nasty burnout issue
in addition to my other more esoteric talents would prove a strong attractant
to someone looking to exploit them.”
“That’s true, but that isn’t what I meant.” Liam says
softly cupping his nape with a gentle hand and running his fingertips over the
sensitive nerve endings under the thin covering of flawless skin. He’s startled
as he feels a rumbling vibration through his sensitive fingertips a few seconds
before the soothing sound reaches his eyes, despite standing so close, it is a
soft sound that he can barely hear. “Wil…are you…Wil you’re purring.” Liam exclaims in delight.
Spike ducks his head slightly to look up at Liam through
his eyelashes with a slight flush on his cheeks. “Yes. I sort of do that
sometimes; when I’m very happy.”
Liam looks enchanted and very pleased with himself that he
could make Wil so happy he purred for
him. Even as the thought occurs he has to laugh at the fanciful turn his
thoughts have taken.
Spike quirks his brow up in silent inquiry about what has
touched off his funny bone.
“I was just thinking. My life used to be so normal once.”
He says with a laugh. “Now here I am, getting to learn things I never knew
about a guy that used to be my Stepbrother and you purr.”
“Oh yeah, your life is the very picture of normalcy. If you
manage to forget that you hunt Demons for a living, have an on-off again
relationship with a Slayer, and a former Stepbrother that is slightly less than
human that works for a shadowy cabal of Demon-Hunting mercenaries. Oh yeah, did
I mention your adopted Auntie Anya used to be a Vengeance Demon until she fell
in love with Giles and gave up her powers?” Spike says drolly. “Yeah your life
is a real Brady Bunch adventure there Mate.” The pair breaks into raucous
laughter, needing to lean on each other to stay upright.
“Maybe it’s more like the Addams Family.” Liam says with a
laugh.
“Okay, but you have to be the one to tell Giles he’s Uncle
Fester.” Spike replies with a grin and they both break into laughter again as
they stop beside the Hummer and Spike’s motorcycle.
Spike takes a moment to go through his gear as Liam sets
his own pack down and double checks his own. Liam finishes his check first and
follows Spike’s directions for stowing his gear. The motorcycle is specifically
kitted out in combat fashion and sports a metal framework with strapping that
is ideal for securing his pack behind the passenger’s backrest. He finishes and
watches as Spike pulls one of the pair of handguns from the locked security of
the hard-cased saddle bags and checks it quickly. He leans over, still
carefully off to one side away from the muzzle and whistles admiringly.
“You really do have the best toys!” Spike grins and locks
the safety before carefully handing the gun to Liam with the muzzle pointed
safely down and away from their bodies and passers-by.
“It’s one of Gunn’s custom jobs. It’s a custom modified
double-action Walther P99. The frame is a lightweight black polymer composite
on a skeleton of Slide-Tenifer Finished Hardened Steel. It has a specially
modified twenty micro-cartridge magazine. Right now it’s loaded with explosive
tipped cartridges sheathing a silver nitrate liquid core delivery system that
Gunn developed. I’ve got cartridges preloaded with various specialty rounds.
Gunn’s developed a similar round for Vampires that utilises a wooden core in a
holy water matrix instead of the liquid silver nitrate. I also have a magazine
preloaded with a special tranquilliser that Anya developed. It will drop a
Chaos Demon in its tracks. I usually keep one of my sidearms ready with lethal
rounds and the other with tranquilliser rounds.” Spike says as he checks his
other gear over just as carefully.
“Is it a Walther P99 as well?” Liam asks admiring the
craftsmanship of the deadly handgun.
Spike shakes his head. “It’s an H&K USP9 in stainless steel
covered in a matte black polymer matrix that Gunn’s worked his magic on. It’s
modified in much the same way as the Walter though.”
Liam nods towards his forearms where he can just see the
edge of a sheathe peeking out from his sleeve now and then. Spike grins and
extends his forearm away and clenches his fist and rotates his forearm sharply
and a curious stake snaps out and locks into place. He pushes the sleeve of his
Duster back to display a lightweight leather and plastic framework strapped to
his forearm.
Liam drags his fingertip over the curious dagger shaped
stake. Veins of what look like silver run through the wood. “Is that silver?”
Spike nods, relaxing and letting Liam examine the mechanism.
“It’s another of Gunn’s handy creations. Werewolves have a
body temperature that is roughly seven to ten degrees higher than a human, so
he designed a silver nitrate compound that he could stabilise to roughly 107.6
degrees. Any temperature in excess of that and it starts to liquefy the silver
nitrate automatically on contact with their blood. Since Vampires are roughly
ten or more degrees below human it remains in its solid state and reinforces
the wood against breakage.”
“That’s very clever, a single weapon but with a dual
species utilisation. The military should hire Gunn to design their weaponry.”
Liam says with a smile, releasing his hold on Spike’s forearm and watches as he
refuses the abrupt motions he made earlier and the mechanism resets. “You
really do have all the best toys, I think I’m jealous.” He says with a snicker.
“I’m sure Gunn has spares, he always packs along enough
weaponry to stage a coup in a third world country.” Spike says with a smile.
“How did he come to work with you? It’s not like it’s a
common job choice.” Liam asks leaning against the Hummer carefully to avoid
setting off its security alarm.
“He and I have always been close, since we were boys. He’s
always known about me and what my life was going to be when I grew up. He was
always interested in what the Council stands for and the job that they do but
he was happy with the military life and eventually planned to take a job with
one of the munitions sub-contractors when he retired from service. Then he met
Winifred Burkle.”
Spike smiles sadly at the memory of the cheerful young
woman. “She was at
“Something happened to her.” Liam says sadly.
“Yes, she was killed and turned by a Vampire the weekend
before their wedding. She’d killed her parents, who were in town for the
wedding, before we could stop her. That’s how we found out that she was a
Vampire. I hit the streets to find her, Gunn knew that I had to stop her and
understood and wanted to go with me, but I couldn’t let him do that. It was bad
enough that he knew what I would have to do; he didn’t need to see her die for
a second time. I didn’t find her, but she found him. He was forced to stake her
when she tried to drain him. I found him kneeling in her ashes. The next day he
joined the Hunters and he’s been at my side ever since.”
“Were you…involved with him?” Liam’s not sure he really
wants to know the answer, but he’s been driving himself crazy with wondering if
the intimacy that is obvious between them was the result of a relationship
between the two friends.
“Do you want to know if we were lovers, or do you want to
know if we were in love?” Spike asks shrewdly. “We were involved when we
entered the service, but we had some issues that were hard to overcome.” Liam
tilts his head silently urging him to elaborate. “We had opposing schedules and
it was hard to arrange to be on base at the same time, much less coordinating
our leave time, so we hardly saw each other much. Gunn also had a bit of a
problem adjusting to me, sexually speaking.” Liam looks startled. “I’m…I…I like
it…a lot. He used to complain that he never got any sleep.” Liam explodes into
laughter. “Oh shut up you ass!” Spike says with a mock growl that turns into a
chuckle. “Anya thinks it has to do with my physiology and some genetic
predisposition or some such given what the ancients used to…make us how we
are.”
Liam is laughing so hard that he throws himself at Spike
and clings to him weakly as the laughter makes him weak and gasping for air. “Only you Wil, only you.” He wheezes between gasps and
laughter.
“Only me, what you G.I. Joe reject from a GQ magazine?”
Spike growls sourly.
“Only you could end
up being half Nympho Demon!” Liam roars; laughing harder as Spike slaps at his
head chuckling at the image of him lost in laughter.
While he’d rather not be the reason for his hilarity, he
has to admit that it’s good to see him so carefree. On second thought, he’d
rather he shut up and renews his attack against Liam’s head with a flurry of
noogies that has the still laughing man on his knees, feigning a cowardly cringe.
Liam finally slows down to hiccups and random chuckles.
Spike slowly lets go of the headlock he has him in, only to squeak in surprise
as his former prisoner leaps up and catches him up in a tight bear hug. “Damn
I’ve missed you Wil. No one has ever made me laugh as much as you do. I’d
forgotten what it felt like, it’s been so long.”
Spike smiles and wraps his arms around Liam and returns the
hug and sighs at the feeling of his body against his after so long. They were
only boys the last time they were this close and they’ve both changed a lot in
their maturity, but in the things that really matter…they haven’t changed at
all. The same sable hair that makes the thickest mink’s pelt pale in
comparison, brushes softly against his forearms making him want to dive his
fingers into its richness. The same chocolate dark eyes with their whiskey
golden brown highlights; that make him feel more drunk than the finest aged
liquor; still make him shiver as they seem to look straight into his soul. Even
his scent, that compelling mixture of Sandalwood and the faint undertone of
soap and shampoo is the same. A surreptiously quick sniff brings two new notes
to his sensitive nose. The gun oil makes for a pungent but not unpleasant
higher note, but there beneath it all is the earthy, pleasantly musky scent of
a mature male. It is enough to make him wish that he could dive beneath that
tempting sea of scents and skin and wear Liam like a coat. No, nothing has
changed much at all.
He hears the soft sound of approaching feet seconds before
their quietly private moment of communion is shattered.
“Hey, you’d better put him down; you don’t know where he’s
been.” Gunn quips with a grin.
Spike looks startled and turns his head to glance down over
his shoulder and laughs. He’s a good six or seven inches above the ground and
he never realised that Liam had picked him up and was holding him easily off
the ground.
Liam coughs and flushes with embarrassment as he opens his
arms letting Spike slide down his body and regain his footing.
They share a silent glance that has Gunn kicking himself
for embarrassing them like that. He knows that his old friend has always been
in love with his one time Stepbrother and he’s sorry that he foolishly let his
smart mouth ruin their moment.
Spike catches Gunn’s eye and smiles, letting him know that
it’s alright and the big man relaxes and returns the smile.
“Anya, you’ll be our relay officer.” He says as Gunn pulls
out his keys and hits the alarm disarm and unlocks the doors. Spike opens up
the rear door of the hummer and assists Anya as she enters the small state of
the art field station.
Everything is state of the art, from the surveillance to
the communication equipment and the powerful computer outfitted with the latest
in wireless technology. There’s even a small forensic lab for the simple tests
they’re set up to be able to run in the field. Near the rear door there is a
locked cabinet; for the storage of often used components for Wesley’s spells;
as well as a small collection of digitised resource and spell books.
A small caged area between the field unit and the rear
passenger seat holds; securely stowed and secured; their various armaments and
room for their packs. Gunn takes care of stowing their gear. Anya hands Spike a
pair of their miniaturised ear cuff com-units and he helps each man put it on
properly. While he’s doing that Wesley gives Finn and Miller a quick run down
on the Hummer’s systems, then directs them into the back seat as Gunn finishes
stowing their gear. Gunn and Wesley hop into the front seats and quickly get
situated.
“What about Spike…the Lt. Colonel and Colonel O’Donnell?”
Finn asks, noticing that there aren’t any more free seats and looks around
trying to catch a glimpse of the two men through the window. He watches as they
mount the motorcycle, a grinning Colonel settling into the driver seat as Spike
tosses him the keys and settles behind him.
“Spike is our Point-man; he prefers to remain independently
mobile. Since he’s partnered to the Colonel it makes sense for them to ride
together.” Wesley explains slowly, as though he were talking to a small
child…or a dense military drone.
Anya hides her grin as she powers up the field unit and
starts to run her checklists against her readouts and indicators. “Communicator on general broadcast.” She says initiating a
group signal that has all their communicators chiming softly in their ears.
“Radio-check boys, sound off.”
“Bradley; radio is online and receiving.” Spike’s voice
comes through clearly.
“O’Donnell; radio is online and receiving.” Liam’s voice
chimes in seconds after Spike.
“Jensen-Giles; radio is online and receiving.” Anya reports
after Liam.
“Gunn; radio is online and receiving.” Gunn reports when
it’s his turn.
“Wyndham-Price; radio is online and receiving but I’ve got
a bit of static Anya, can you tighten my relay signal?” Wesley chimes in a
second after Gunn.
“I’ll try a two percent compression. There…how’s that Wes?”
Anya asks quietly.
“Its aces Anya, thanks.” Wes reports with a smile.
“Lieutenant Finn, radio check?” Anya
prompts when the last two members of the unit fail to report.
“Oh it’s working fine…just fine.”
He says somewhat distracted as he stares out the window at Spike.
“Sergeant Major Miller, verify radio check.” Anya urges. “Miller,
are you receiving?” She checks her panels and makes some adjustments as Miller
turns around in the seat and makes a slashing motion across his throat.
“Receiving Miller?”
“Yes Ma’am whatever you did sorted it out fine. I can hear
you perfectly now.” Miller reports sounding a little bit like an excited boy on
the first day of school.
“Colonel O’Donnell, the radio check is confirmed, seven
green lights across the board.” Anya reports.
“Why don’t we just use our names and leave the ranks on the
base?” Liam replies with a smile in his voice.
“Yes Sir.” Anya replies jovially. “Our orders are to patrol
sectors Alpha through Gamma Sir.” Anya says referring to the notes she jotted
down from their briefing prior to Finn and his cronies arrivals.
“Let’s head out Gunn. We’ll override standard dispersal for
now and remain together until I can access performance and we’ve gotten used to
how each other operates. Gamma is the farthest sector so we’ll start there and
work our way back towards the base.” Liam orders.
Anya’s fingers fly over her keyboard calling up a map and
she relays the driving instructions and Gunn gets the large truck into motion
with easy skill. Liam grins and roars after the hummer amazed that Spike’s
letting him drive his ‘baby’. The fact that he has to plaster himself to his
back is just a bonus.
Spike melts against Liam’s strong form, letting the larger
man shift their weight more effortlessly in controlling the powerful
Motorcycle. He bites back a moan at the purring vibrations of the powerful
machine underneath him and the feel of Liam’s warm strength pressed his front.
He slowly slides his hand down from where it’s been clutching a powerful
shoulder slowly along Liam’s side, flowing low across his abdomen coming to a
stop with restless energy over his belly button. He smiles at the clenching and
relaxing muscles pressing against his sensitive palm, Liam’s not as oblivious
to his charms as he thinks he is.
“Communicate Liam, secure lockout.” Spike says quietly
hearing a quiet tone in his ear as the communicator establishes a direct link
to Liam’s on a scrambled frequency. “So how long has Finn been a Blood Doll?”
He asks nonchalantly, chuckling as the motorcycle swerves violently and Liam’s
curses fill his ears.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” He
snarls. “Warn a guy before you go saying stuff like that out of the blue, and
what the fuck is a blood doll?” Liam responds with growling cadence to his
voice.
“He’s been letting Vampires feed off of him, I can smell
it, like cologne clinging to his skin and pouring from his pores. I don’t think
that he’s been doing it for that long or he’d probably have been marked as a
Pet by now. That or he has a very powerful patron who has been making sure the
lower ranked Vampires behave themselves.” Spike says absentmindedly. He swirls
his fingertips lightly around the depression of Liam’s belly button, letting
his fingertips press in lightly before tracing the outside edge again. The thin
barrier of his clothing only adds to the tactile experience of his fascination
with Liam’s navel.
“What you mean he lets them feed from him on purpose? Why in the hell would someone
do that?!” Liam shouts, both of them wince, as it reverberates in their ears,
magnified by their ear pieces and the full coverage helmets. “Why would he
voluntarily do that Wil?” He asks disgusted.
“You’ve bought into the myths that have been perpetuated by
the media Liam. Vampires are as diverse as human beings. Some are thoughtless,
mindless thugs who only live to feed and kill and almost every fledgling goes
through that phase initially. If they manage to survive long enough, and I
don’t mean just being lucky enough to elude a Slayer or one of my kind, but to
avoid being preyed upon by their own kind as well, they enter a different
phase. While some retain their animalistic qualities of their fledgling days,
not all of them do. Usually how a Vampire will develop is a product of how they
came to be Sired. Not all Vampires are monsters,
though they are all predators.”
“What do you mean? Our training amounts to little more than
recognition and termination. We’ve never really been given any in-depth
orientation to their lifestyles and ‘living’ habits you know.” Liam growls,
somewhat self-consciously. He’s long pressed for better training and education
for the field teams, only to be told time and again that the budget can’t
handle it.
“I’m sure between Giles and Wesley; that they can arrange
to come up with some courses if you like. Giles will probably appreciate having
something to do once his retirement is finalised.” Wil says quietly, his
restless finger tips still giving their new fabric covered toy a thorough going
over.
Liam clears his throat unwilling to admit how good that
caressing hand feels on his belly. “So you were saying, about how vampires are Sired
and everything?” He’s proud to hear that his voice sounds almost normal, rather
than as breathless as he feels with Wil riding his back more than the
motorcycle.
@
“Ahhh yes, thanks for reminding me. You see some Vampires
are created to be little more than servants, foot soldiers, or cannon fodder.
They are turned with just enough blood transfer to change them and little or no
care is ever shown by the one that created them. These are the Vampires you’re
likely the most familiar with as they are the most numerous and commonly
encountered outside lairs. They’re called simply Minions.” Wil explains and
around and around the fingertips circle. “Most are buried and have to dig their
own way out of their grave, sometimes the Sire is there, but most often they
aren’t. The newly risen is driven mad by the need to feed, it’s their only
drive and they are almost mindless in its pursuit. Hunger, blood, and violence
are all they know. Within two to three days, the initial feeding lust passes
and the fledgling begins to feel the call of their Sire, an overwhelming
instinct that draws them to their creator. Only if a fledgling has been shown
strong enough to survive the “bloodening” do most Sires even deign to
acknowledge them, for they have shown that they are strong and clever and lucky
enough to have survived. Are you with me so far?” Wil asks letting his
fingertips push lightly into the fascinating depression they’ve found to
entertain themselves.
“Yes.” Liam croaks. “I’m definitely with you.”
“Excellent, I knew that you would be a clever student.
Childer are different from Minions, from the very beginning, the entire process
of how they are Sired is different. Only a Master
Vampire can create a Childe. Minion that tried to create a Childe would merely
be creating another Minion, who’s station would never be better than their own
and in fact is actually less in the eyes of the Vampiric community. Often such
abominations are destroyed, when they are discovered, as is the foolish Minion
who thought to create it.” Wil explains, as he becomes more engrossed in the
topic he lets his hand fall away from Liam’s belly to rest with a light grip on
his thigh instead.
Liam stifles a groan of disappointment at the loss of the
caress he was quickly finding addicting. “So what makes Childer so special that
their care is different?” He asks in a rush before his hormones get the better
of his commonsense and he complains about Wil moving his hand.
“Childer are created to be what
their name suggests, children, companions, and family.” Wil explains, not
paying attention as his other hand strokes down Liam’s side and around his
waist to resume playing with his belly button.
Liam smiles and relaxes, glad that Wil can’t see his
content expression. He has never forgotten how soothing Wil’s touch can be, how
his body sings to a fever pitch and resonates with desire under the tender
caresses that he never seems to consciously initiate, but yet are constant all
the same.
“A Sire often stalks an intended Childe, for months, even
years in some cases, waiting for their moment, some instinct that tells them it
is time to claim their desire. You see a Childe is not taken by force, their
souls are gone, wooed, seduced away long before their bodies die and their
bodies belong to the Vampire that will Sire them long before that, whether they
are physically taken or not.” Liam shivers slightly at the imagery and again
still as Spike seems to mistake the reason for his shivers, lifts the tails of
his voluminous Duster and using his arms, tucks it up around him as well. “A
Sire never leaves a Childe to rise alone and unprotected into the world and
some are never buried at all, remaining with their Sire. From the moment of
their ‘rebirth’, their Sire is there to greet them, often with several victims
that will be their prey. Their first bloodening however comes from their Sire
and it is often a reciprocal feeding, with both feeding from each other. This
strengthens what is already a significant blood tie to each other. A Sire that
denies a Childe their first Bloodening is denying that Childe and it becomes a
pariah, an outcast, a noble without a house or family name if you will. It is
never something that is done lightly, for it reflects as poorly on the Sire as
much as it does the Childe. Are you still with me?”
“Yes, but I have to say that I had no idea it was so
complicated.” Liam admits. “I had no idea that…well that they…had feelings like
that for each other.”
“Well they have had countless centuries to learn the art of
protecting their secrets…and their interests Liam; so don’t feel badly.” Wil
says with a pat on his belly. “Sires and Childer are special cases and you can
live your whole life, fighting them and killing them before you’d chance to
meet a True Master and their Sired Childer. Here, try and think of it this way…when
you’re fighting a war, you never send your generals into the field right? You
send the rank and file enlisted and you keep your higher ranked personnel to
the more protected rear coterie, right?” He can feel and see Liam nod. “Think
of a Sire as a Leader of a country and their Childer are their generals. The
Sire rules over his or her bloodline with absolute authority, through their
Childer, who in turn administer to the minions and various functionaries.”
“And these Masters you mentioned?” Liam asks, genuinely
becoming interested in the hitherto unknown world that Wil is opening up for
him.
“Well when you’re talking about Vampires, Master can have
two different meanings, each with their own connotations. A “Master” Vampire is
pretty much what it sounds like, a Vampire that has ‘matured’ if you will into
their powers. Every Order has a slightly different take on what it means to be
a Master Vampire and how that rank is reached. An Order is somewhat like a
Scottish Clan in set up, Vampires that can trace their ancestry to one of the
Ancients, the original Vampires, descended from the First One, parent of all
their kind. The First One’s name has been lost to human history and we think
that there are no longer any living Vampires that can claim to know the truth
of their heritage left in the world. The leader of an Order is also given the
honorary title of Master. You can tell by how a Vampire is addressed as to what
rank they hold in their bloodline, order, and Vampiric society as a whole.” Wil
reveals.
“So a Sire is always a Master Vampire…who then of course
once been themselves a Childe to a Master Vampire.” Liam says slowly digesting
what Wil’s told him. “Sires can turn someone to be either a Minion or a Childe,
but that there are traditions and customs regarding Childer that aren’t present
for Minions. Poor treatment of one’s Childer can reflect badly on their Sire,
so it is typical for a Sire to protect his Childer much as one protects a King
or Queen on a chessboard?”
“That is an EXCELLENT
analogy Liam! A Sire is like the king on a chessboard, their Childer function
much as
“And if you were mine Wil…in that instance, how would you
introduce yourself then?” Liam asks with a strange emotion trembling in his
voice.
“Well, I would include my Sire’s name…let’s say…we’ll just
call him Angel shall we?” Wil purrs. “I would be William, Childe of Liam,
Master of O’Donnell, out of Angel, O’Donnell Master.”
“That…that’s…heavy. What
does all of that mean though? What would it mean
if I were your Sire?” Liam asks in a rough voice.
“It would mean that you would be my world and all that mattered
in my existence. Childer are ‘reborn’ and exist at the
whims of their Sire. Strangely there is no stigma attached to killing one’s own
Childer should they prove less than satisfactory, only in how it is done and
under what circumstances. Without Childer, Orders will die out, they are
regarded much as human children are to their parents, and they are the means by
which the legacy lives on. However an Order full of incompetent Childer would
be nothing more than a laughing stock. Think of it as survival of the fittest,
the strong survive while the weak become their prey, ensuring that only the
strongest and most capable live to ‘reproduce’ by becoming Masters and
eventually Sires in their own right.”
“So can I expect a Vampire to stroll up to me one day and
introduce himself?” Liam asks with a chuckle.
“On the day that one does that Liam, run and don’t look
back.” Wil says; his voice deadly serious. “A Vampire would not lower itself to
introduce his or herself to you unless their interest in you is something more
than would be healthy for a human to encourage. For a Vampire to introduce
themselves, they are acknowledging you as being worthy of hearing their heritage. That is never something that they
do lightly or without having an agenda of their own.”
“You sound like you’re talking from experience Wil.” Liam’s
voice has lost all trace of laughter as well.
“I imagine you’ll eventually discover the reason for that
experience after much longer. I’ve been here for almost six days now.” Wil says
with a quiet resignation in his voice.
“You sound like you’re worried that something is going to
happen, Wil. Are you in danger?” Liam asks urgently, almost mad with knowledge
that he could be.
“I am a, THE,
True Hunter Liam, the only one of my kind to reach maturity and the only one
currently born at this time as far as we know. To some people that is a lure
beyond the riches of Solomon’s Mines. It’s not a question of worrying if
something is going to happen or not Liam, just when it will.” He taps Liam’s
shoulder as the Hummer pulls off down a side road and they nearly miss the
turn.
Liam curses and turns sharply in order to make the turn and
gasps silently as the centrifugal force forces Wil to bring his legs up and
cling to his hips with his knees as he’s pulled part way up his back. As they
straighten out of the turn and gravity once more holds sway on them, Wil
settles back down against the seat, but with more of his body touching his than
is touching the seat.
Wil’s hands have settled in a loose grip around his waist.
He’s hardly bothered by the wild ride at all, his body shifting effortlessly to
counterbalance or balance his greater weight with an easy grace and innate
skill that few could match. Liam doesn’t stop to think as his hand leaves the
leave the handlebars to grab one of Wil’s hands and pull it around so that it
rests on his belly once more; his arm is around him tightly. “Keep it there
before you fall off.” He orders in a soft growl.
“Yes Sir, Colonel O’Donnell, Sir.” Wil says with no hint of
mocking irreverence in his voice and Liam shivers at the sound of his
acquiescence and replacing his hand revs the throttle until they blast past the
Hummer and rocket into the darkness, so close that from a distance they look to
be one man.
A silent figure, with a strangely peaceful expression,
watches from the rooftop as the graceful powerhouse of a Motorcycle flashes by
and down the road with its riders. No movement stirs him from the shadows; he
remains still and watchful as the slower Hummer passes ominously beneath him on
the street. Only once even the glow of even their taillights has faded does he
stand with easy grace and a strange smile on his face.
He leaps onto the dividing wall with easy grace, balancing
as agile as a cat on the narrow wall of concrete and looks up at the almost
full moon. The moonlight glitters in his mane of golden streaked sandy hair and
caresses his form in its dark silk hand tailored Italian suit and trench coat.
He is an imposing figure of a man but without the obscene bulk of muscles that
have been overworked until they stand out as swollen as an overripe melon. A
curious light shines in his azure blue eyes, so deep and darkly vivid that they
seem to turn from blue to black from one moment to the next.
His chuckle echoes through the now silent streets as he
steps off the roof with the same casual regard that someone would show stepping
off a curb. He lands lightly and walks into the darkness the only sign that he
has been there, is the sound of an ominous chuckle that lingers, echoing
through the streets.