Buffy the vampire slayer/ League of Gentlemen crossover.
BtVS belongs to Joss Whedon. The League of Gentlemen belongs to Jeremy Dyson, Mark Gatiss, Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith. Nothing belongs to me except the story itself. Read and review!
A/N: Chances are if you're in America you wont have seen this programme at all. So, I think it is my duty to inform you before you read it that this is a somewhat disturbing and weird comedy. But it's hilarious too!
Chapter One: You'll never leave!
It's been so quiet around here lately." Buffy said, her mind considering not too optimistic possibilities. "I wonder why?"
"It's nice…" said Willow, but from the tone of her voice there was obviously a "but" coming.
"But it's *never* a good sign." Xander finished. Buffy nodded.
"I'll mention it to Giles tonight." she said, hoping that her worst fears, just for once, would *not* be confirmed.
"It appears that the focus of the Hellmouth has… altered somewhat." Giles told them. "Oddly, I've checked all of my contacts here in California and all over the US, and I've heard nothing." Giles ran a hand through his hair, absently worrying that he might be going a little thin on top.
"You're not checking the right places." Spike commented. "I think I know what's going on."
"I suppose I could try them again, ask them for regular updates," Giles continued, "but I don't think there's anyone that can really help. Maybe I should call Angel?"
"I could help." Spike said. Noone looked at him.
"I don't know, Giles, is it really that bad that we need to drag Angel into this too?" Xander asked. Spike scowled.
"Hey!" he shouted. "Are you all bleeding deaf, or have I become a mute to all but myself through some cocked up spell by that witch? I can *help* you bloody morons. Though why I'd want to is beyond me."
"Huh?" Buffy looked up, giving first Spike, then Giles a quizzical look.
"What do you mean?" Giles asked Spike, who dipped a triangle of toast into his blood and continued.
"I *mean* what I said." Spike replied. "The focus of the Hellmouth's altered, you said so yourself. That's happened, what, once in the entire history of the modern world? Once that I know of anyway, about 70 years ago. Lots of demonic activity began happening elsewhere, from a kind of secondary Hellmouth thing-me-bob. Not in America, I might add."
"Now hold on, I was educated as a watcher," Giles said, "and I was never told anything about the veracity of that theory. The idea that there could be another Hellmouth…"
"I was *there*." Spike pointed out. "I saw the place, it was hell on earth. Brilliant fun, all sorts of nasties feeding off the mortals, killing little fluffy creatures, things like that. And the watcher's council, if they'd even known, wouldn't go telling it around every low level watcher in training, would they?"
"But if that's the case, and if this is just recurring… there's nothing we can do. It's not as if we can just up and leave over a theory…"
"We have to." A familiar voice came from the doorway.
"Angel!" Buffy exclaimed, and then quietened herself, not wanting to appear too excited. "Come in, please." Willow rolled her eyes.
"Hey." Angel greeted the room, looking slightly nervous. He really wasn't fond of crowds. "It's good to see you all again. But… this is important."
"I see." Giles said. "Well, we should make arrangements, then."
"Oi!" Spike complained, "You respect his word more than mine?"
"He *does* have a soul, Spike." Willow pointed out.
"Most of the time." Xander muttered, and Spike grinned.
"Oh, but remember when he didn't?" Spike said. "That was a laugh. Wasn't it, Rupert?" Giles' face fell, eyes bleak and hollow with the memory of Jenny. Angel glared dangerously at Spike. "Sorry," Spike said, "I keep forgetting that's a sore point between the two of you. So, Angel, did you kill her slowly?"
"I can't believe you haven't staked him yet." Angel told the group, ignoring the question.
"Well surprisingly enough, they're not all violent Irish bastards, like someone I could mention." Spike retorted.
"I think I speak for everyone in the room when I say – point and laugh at the chipped demon!" he said sarcastically.
"Better than a bleeding gypsy curse, Mr 'I killed people, please pity me'."
"At least the love of *my* life didn't run off with a chaos demon."
"Two words, Angel; Riley Finn!" Spike delivered the words with scorn. Riley cleared his throat and looked away uncomfortably. Spike grinned. "You call that more dignified than a slimy thing with antlers?" Angel looked at Riley.
"I…" he looked at the wall, then at the floor. "I'm not here to insult anyone." He said. "Not even you, Spike. I'm here to tell you that we need to go… there. We might even be there some time."
"Where?" Buffy asked.
"The other Hellmouth, of course." Spike told her. "Small town in the north of England. Goes by the name of Royston Vasey." Angel shuddered almost visibly.
"Lets go then." Buffy said, smiling the cheerful smile of the unknowing…
Buffy, Riley, Giles, Anya, Xander, Angel, Spike and Willow all walked over the brow of the hill in the dark. Seeing a large rock, Anya sat down on it. Those without Slayer or vampire strength were all very tired now. "That's it, no more walking." Anya declared. Giles sat down too, rubbing his left ankle. Willow and Xander followed suit, and Riley eventually joined them.
"I second that." Xander said. "Ten miles without snacks nor water is not the life for me."
"You know, back in the day, they didn't have cars." Angel said. "I remember when I was your age, 10 miles was just…" he trailed off, realising how old he sounded.
"Humans these days are sissies." Spike agreed. He might have been a bit of a sissy as well in his life, what with the poetry and his desperate devotion to one woman after another… but he could at least *walk* a few bloody miles.
"Well, this sissy wants to call a cab." Xander said.
"Do you really think there will be a taxi service, at night, this far out in the middle of nowhere?" asked Giles, having to speak his last words slightly louder over the sound of an approaching car engine. A cab. It stopped beside them, and it was pink with the writing "Babs' Cabs" on the side.
"Need a ride, loves?" came the voice from inside, throaty and hoarse, sounding neither masculine nor feminine, with a northern English accent. Willow forced a smile, the vampires frowned, Xander clung to Anya's arm; he had an uneasy feeling about all of this.
"Yes, actually." Giles said. "Could you take us to Royston Vasey?"
"I can only fit four of you back there." Babs replied. "Is that okay?"
"I'll walk." Buffy volunteered. "Spike and Angel will be ok. And… um, you think you can manage a few more miles, Riley?"
"Sure." Riley replied, his face set grimly. "I'll make it."
"Alright then, see you guys layer." She waved as they were driven away in the pink taxi.
Noone had dared to say anything for a few minutes, being afraid to start up the cab driver on the detailed story of his/her botched sex change operation again. Xander had almost been physically sick. They drove past the sign to the town.
"Royston Vasey – you'll never leave!'" Xander quoted. "Why does that sign not fill me with hope and optimism?"
"I wouldn't worry too much, Xander." Giles said. "Chances are we'll be going back very soon, I don't think Spike's theory is correct, and I really don't see why Angel supported it."
"Oh, you mean about this place being upon the mouth of hell?" Anya asked. "That's true."
"It's what?" Xander asked, horrified.
"It's on a hellmouth, not so active as the one in Sunnydale, but it's a definite hole of evil and depravity." Anya informed them cheerfully.
"That's right, love." Babs confirmed. "She's got a point about our town, her. But all that aside, it's a lovely little place."
"Er… yes." Giles said.
"It's not so far fetched, I mean Sunnydale's a nice place during the day." Willow pointed out.
"It's a quiet little isolated British town." Xander said. "How bad could it be?" Giles shook his head and looked out the car window, with an expression of utter dread.
Spike and Angel walked in silence. Silence only occasionally broken by intervals of violent argument that threatened to turn into fighting. "Local shop." Spike pointed out. "We could pop in, get a street map or something. Plus I need more fags."
"I don't recommend it Spike." said Angel.
"You also don't recommend killing humans." Spike said. "Frankly, Angel, your recommendations suck."
"Ok, go in there then, by all means." Angel told him. "I'll just keep walking on without you, because I doubt you'll come out alive."
"What, there's demons?" Spike asked. "You do remember that those are the things I *can* kill, right?"
"Look, Spike, there are two half breed Belrus in there, and their mutant son. I went in there last time I came, and they almost killed me. If you want to risk your life for a packet of smokes, then go right ahead."
"Ok, ok." Spike grumbled. "Next shop we come to though, definitely."
"Addict." Angel called him.
"Poof."
"Immature brat."
"Patronising wanker."
… the argument continued long down the road.
"Ok Riley," said Buffy to her exhausted looking boyfriend. They had fallen a little behind the vampires due to Riley perhaps being not as fit as he made out. "This store should still be open, it's only 8pm, lets check it out."
"I thought shops in Britain closed early." Riley said, sinking down to sit on the stone wall. His legs ached. The Initiative had been perhaps too lax on this traditional kind of military training. However, he disliked showing weakness in front of his girlfriend.
"Well, it *looks* open." Buffy said. "And can a shop this near a Hellmouth afford to be closed and losing business at night?"
"Good point." Riley agreed. "Hostiles need their supplies too, I guess. Lets go in, I could do with something to drink." Buffy hauled him up easily and helped him walk in. The shop was dimly lit, musty and cluttered. The sign on the door had definitely said "open" but there was nobody to be seen inside.
"Hello?" Buffy inquired at the empty counter. "Anyone there?"
"I don't think there's –"
"Yes?" came a loud female voice from directly behind them. Both Riley and Buffy almost jumped out of their skins with shock. A woman stood there, short, fat, with round glasses, an unflattering old dress and a scarf around her head. "Can I help you at all?"
"God!" exclaimed Buffy. "Oh, uh, good. I mean, can I have… 2 bottles of water, please?"
"Are you local?" asked the woman, leaning slightly towards Riley.
"No, we're from California." Buffy said.
"I'm from Iowa, originally." Added Riley, trying not to let the appearance and manner of the woman get to him.
"This is a local shop, for local people," the woman said. "There's nothing for you here!"
"You can't sell us water, just because we don't live nearby?" Riley said. "But that's ridiculous! You have water; we're thirsty and have money. Look, it's all changed to British and everything."
"Did you come by new road?" she asked, face in an expression of curiosity and fear.
"We walked." Riley said, somewhat bitterly. "We walked *miles* dammit, can't you just help us here?"
"Riley…" Buffy said, attempting to quieten her boyfriend down.
"Hello, hello, what's going on, what's all this shouting, we'll have no trouble here!" said a man, walking through the door behind the counter. He was taller than the woman, wearing glasses, with a similarly unusual face, presumably her husband.
"Edward, help, they threaten us!" she exclaimed.
"Who are they, Tubbs? Are they local? Do we know their parents?"
"No, they come from the new road, they are strangers! They covet our precious local water." She huddled in close to Edward's side.
"Look, fine. If you can't give us anything to drink then we'll go." Buffy said.
"They are devils!" exclaimed Edward. "Devils who speak in foreign tones! Their lips are stained with strange unnatural putrification."
"Uh… what?" Riley asked.
"I think they mean our accents." Buffy told him.
"Well, we're American." Riley said to the man. "What do you expect?" Edward and Tubbs recoiled in horror.
"Strangers from the new world," Edward said, "witches and wizards they are, with hearts as black as the night itself! Get thee from our local shop and never darken our door again, you evil creatures!"
"Hey!" Buffy said. "I'll have you know I'm the one who kills those evil creatures you hate so much."
"Don't bother them, Buffy," said Riley, looking quite shaken, "lets just go." Buffy opened her mouth to reply, but then heard a roaring sound from above them, through the ceiling.
"What was that?" she asked, quietly and calmly.
"David." Tubbs said, and smiled. "Oh, Edward, could we send them up to play?"
"No no, Tubbs, just the young fellow." Edward said. "The no-tail shall be a bride for our David instead."
"The *what* shall be *what*?" Buffy asked, eyes wide with disbelief.
"No way, pal." Riley said. "But I'll be happy to tackle your demon for you."
"Good," Edward grinned. "David likes company…"
A/N: Will they ever leave? Will Riley survive? (heh, well, you know me…) Will they all end up with nosebleeds? Well you'll just have to wait and see…
BtVS belongs to Joss Whedon. The League of Gentlemen belongs to Jeremy Dyson, Mark Gatiss, Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith. Nothing belongs to me except the story itself. Read and review!
A/N: Chances are if you're in America you wont have seen this programme at all. So, I think it is my duty to inform you before you read it that this is a somewhat disturbing and weird comedy. But it's hilarious too!
Chapter One: You'll never leave!
It's been so quiet around here lately." Buffy said, her mind considering not too optimistic possibilities. "I wonder why?"
"It's nice…" said Willow, but from the tone of her voice there was obviously a "but" coming.
"But it's *never* a good sign." Xander finished. Buffy nodded.
"I'll mention it to Giles tonight." she said, hoping that her worst fears, just for once, would *not* be confirmed.
"It appears that the focus of the Hellmouth has… altered somewhat." Giles told them. "Oddly, I've checked all of my contacts here in California and all over the US, and I've heard nothing." Giles ran a hand through his hair, absently worrying that he might be going a little thin on top.
"You're not checking the right places." Spike commented. "I think I know what's going on."
"I suppose I could try them again, ask them for regular updates," Giles continued, "but I don't think there's anyone that can really help. Maybe I should call Angel?"
"I could help." Spike said. Noone looked at him.
"I don't know, Giles, is it really that bad that we need to drag Angel into this too?" Xander asked. Spike scowled.
"Hey!" he shouted. "Are you all bleeding deaf, or have I become a mute to all but myself through some cocked up spell by that witch? I can *help* you bloody morons. Though why I'd want to is beyond me."
"Huh?" Buffy looked up, giving first Spike, then Giles a quizzical look.
"What do you mean?" Giles asked Spike, who dipped a triangle of toast into his blood and continued.
"I *mean* what I said." Spike replied. "The focus of the Hellmouth's altered, you said so yourself. That's happened, what, once in the entire history of the modern world? Once that I know of anyway, about 70 years ago. Lots of demonic activity began happening elsewhere, from a kind of secondary Hellmouth thing-me-bob. Not in America, I might add."
"Now hold on, I was educated as a watcher," Giles said, "and I was never told anything about the veracity of that theory. The idea that there could be another Hellmouth…"
"I was *there*." Spike pointed out. "I saw the place, it was hell on earth. Brilliant fun, all sorts of nasties feeding off the mortals, killing little fluffy creatures, things like that. And the watcher's council, if they'd even known, wouldn't go telling it around every low level watcher in training, would they?"
"But if that's the case, and if this is just recurring… there's nothing we can do. It's not as if we can just up and leave over a theory…"
"We have to." A familiar voice came from the doorway.
"Angel!" Buffy exclaimed, and then quietened herself, not wanting to appear too excited. "Come in, please." Willow rolled her eyes.
"Hey." Angel greeted the room, looking slightly nervous. He really wasn't fond of crowds. "It's good to see you all again. But… this is important."
"I see." Giles said. "Well, we should make arrangements, then."
"Oi!" Spike complained, "You respect his word more than mine?"
"He *does* have a soul, Spike." Willow pointed out.
"Most of the time." Xander muttered, and Spike grinned.
"Oh, but remember when he didn't?" Spike said. "That was a laugh. Wasn't it, Rupert?" Giles' face fell, eyes bleak and hollow with the memory of Jenny. Angel glared dangerously at Spike. "Sorry," Spike said, "I keep forgetting that's a sore point between the two of you. So, Angel, did you kill her slowly?"
"I can't believe you haven't staked him yet." Angel told the group, ignoring the question.
"Well surprisingly enough, they're not all violent Irish bastards, like someone I could mention." Spike retorted.
"I think I speak for everyone in the room when I say – point and laugh at the chipped demon!" he said sarcastically.
"Better than a bleeding gypsy curse, Mr 'I killed people, please pity me'."
"At least the love of *my* life didn't run off with a chaos demon."
"Two words, Angel; Riley Finn!" Spike delivered the words with scorn. Riley cleared his throat and looked away uncomfortably. Spike grinned. "You call that more dignified than a slimy thing with antlers?" Angel looked at Riley.
"I…" he looked at the wall, then at the floor. "I'm not here to insult anyone." He said. "Not even you, Spike. I'm here to tell you that we need to go… there. We might even be there some time."
"Where?" Buffy asked.
"The other Hellmouth, of course." Spike told her. "Small town in the north of England. Goes by the name of Royston Vasey." Angel shuddered almost visibly.
"Lets go then." Buffy said, smiling the cheerful smile of the unknowing…
Buffy, Riley, Giles, Anya, Xander, Angel, Spike and Willow all walked over the brow of the hill in the dark. Seeing a large rock, Anya sat down on it. Those without Slayer or vampire strength were all very tired now. "That's it, no more walking." Anya declared. Giles sat down too, rubbing his left ankle. Willow and Xander followed suit, and Riley eventually joined them.
"I second that." Xander said. "Ten miles without snacks nor water is not the life for me."
"You know, back in the day, they didn't have cars." Angel said. "I remember when I was your age, 10 miles was just…" he trailed off, realising how old he sounded.
"Humans these days are sissies." Spike agreed. He might have been a bit of a sissy as well in his life, what with the poetry and his desperate devotion to one woman after another… but he could at least *walk* a few bloody miles.
"Well, this sissy wants to call a cab." Xander said.
"Do you really think there will be a taxi service, at night, this far out in the middle of nowhere?" asked Giles, having to speak his last words slightly louder over the sound of an approaching car engine. A cab. It stopped beside them, and it was pink with the writing "Babs' Cabs" on the side.
"Need a ride, loves?" came the voice from inside, throaty and hoarse, sounding neither masculine nor feminine, with a northern English accent. Willow forced a smile, the vampires frowned, Xander clung to Anya's arm; he had an uneasy feeling about all of this.
"Yes, actually." Giles said. "Could you take us to Royston Vasey?"
"I can only fit four of you back there." Babs replied. "Is that okay?"
"I'll walk." Buffy volunteered. "Spike and Angel will be ok. And… um, you think you can manage a few more miles, Riley?"
"Sure." Riley replied, his face set grimly. "I'll make it."
"Alright then, see you guys layer." She waved as they were driven away in the pink taxi.
Noone had dared to say anything for a few minutes, being afraid to start up the cab driver on the detailed story of his/her botched sex change operation again. Xander had almost been physically sick. They drove past the sign to the town.
"Royston Vasey – you'll never leave!'" Xander quoted. "Why does that sign not fill me with hope and optimism?"
"I wouldn't worry too much, Xander." Giles said. "Chances are we'll be going back very soon, I don't think Spike's theory is correct, and I really don't see why Angel supported it."
"Oh, you mean about this place being upon the mouth of hell?" Anya asked. "That's true."
"It's what?" Xander asked, horrified.
"It's on a hellmouth, not so active as the one in Sunnydale, but it's a definite hole of evil and depravity." Anya informed them cheerfully.
"That's right, love." Babs confirmed. "She's got a point about our town, her. But all that aside, it's a lovely little place."
"Er… yes." Giles said.
"It's not so far fetched, I mean Sunnydale's a nice place during the day." Willow pointed out.
"It's a quiet little isolated British town." Xander said. "How bad could it be?" Giles shook his head and looked out the car window, with an expression of utter dread.
Spike and Angel walked in silence. Silence only occasionally broken by intervals of violent argument that threatened to turn into fighting. "Local shop." Spike pointed out. "We could pop in, get a street map or something. Plus I need more fags."
"I don't recommend it Spike." said Angel.
"You also don't recommend killing humans." Spike said. "Frankly, Angel, your recommendations suck."
"Ok, go in there then, by all means." Angel told him. "I'll just keep walking on without you, because I doubt you'll come out alive."
"What, there's demons?" Spike asked. "You do remember that those are the things I *can* kill, right?"
"Look, Spike, there are two half breed Belrus in there, and their mutant son. I went in there last time I came, and they almost killed me. If you want to risk your life for a packet of smokes, then go right ahead."
"Ok, ok." Spike grumbled. "Next shop we come to though, definitely."
"Addict." Angel called him.
"Poof."
"Immature brat."
"Patronising wanker."
… the argument continued long down the road.
"Ok Riley," said Buffy to her exhausted looking boyfriend. They had fallen a little behind the vampires due to Riley perhaps being not as fit as he made out. "This store should still be open, it's only 8pm, lets check it out."
"I thought shops in Britain closed early." Riley said, sinking down to sit on the stone wall. His legs ached. The Initiative had been perhaps too lax on this traditional kind of military training. However, he disliked showing weakness in front of his girlfriend.
"Well, it *looks* open." Buffy said. "And can a shop this near a Hellmouth afford to be closed and losing business at night?"
"Good point." Riley agreed. "Hostiles need their supplies too, I guess. Lets go in, I could do with something to drink." Buffy hauled him up easily and helped him walk in. The shop was dimly lit, musty and cluttered. The sign on the door had definitely said "open" but there was nobody to be seen inside.
"Hello?" Buffy inquired at the empty counter. "Anyone there?"
"I don't think there's –"
"Yes?" came a loud female voice from directly behind them. Both Riley and Buffy almost jumped out of their skins with shock. A woman stood there, short, fat, with round glasses, an unflattering old dress and a scarf around her head. "Can I help you at all?"
"God!" exclaimed Buffy. "Oh, uh, good. I mean, can I have… 2 bottles of water, please?"
"Are you local?" asked the woman, leaning slightly towards Riley.
"No, we're from California." Buffy said.
"I'm from Iowa, originally." Added Riley, trying not to let the appearance and manner of the woman get to him.
"This is a local shop, for local people," the woman said. "There's nothing for you here!"
"You can't sell us water, just because we don't live nearby?" Riley said. "But that's ridiculous! You have water; we're thirsty and have money. Look, it's all changed to British and everything."
"Did you come by new road?" she asked, face in an expression of curiosity and fear.
"We walked." Riley said, somewhat bitterly. "We walked *miles* dammit, can't you just help us here?"
"Riley…" Buffy said, attempting to quieten her boyfriend down.
"Hello, hello, what's going on, what's all this shouting, we'll have no trouble here!" said a man, walking through the door behind the counter. He was taller than the woman, wearing glasses, with a similarly unusual face, presumably her husband.
"Edward, help, they threaten us!" she exclaimed.
"Who are they, Tubbs? Are they local? Do we know their parents?"
"No, they come from the new road, they are strangers! They covet our precious local water." She huddled in close to Edward's side.
"Look, fine. If you can't give us anything to drink then we'll go." Buffy said.
"They are devils!" exclaimed Edward. "Devils who speak in foreign tones! Their lips are stained with strange unnatural putrification."
"Uh… what?" Riley asked.
"I think they mean our accents." Buffy told him.
"Well, we're American." Riley said to the man. "What do you expect?" Edward and Tubbs recoiled in horror.
"Strangers from the new world," Edward said, "witches and wizards they are, with hearts as black as the night itself! Get thee from our local shop and never darken our door again, you evil creatures!"
"Hey!" Buffy said. "I'll have you know I'm the one who kills those evil creatures you hate so much."
"Don't bother them, Buffy," said Riley, looking quite shaken, "lets just go." Buffy opened her mouth to reply, but then heard a roaring sound from above them, through the ceiling.
"What was that?" she asked, quietly and calmly.
"David." Tubbs said, and smiled. "Oh, Edward, could we send them up to play?"
"No no, Tubbs, just the young fellow." Edward said. "The no-tail shall be a bride for our David instead."
"The *what* shall be *what*?" Buffy asked, eyes wide with disbelief.
"No way, pal." Riley said. "But I'll be happy to tackle your demon for you."
"Good," Edward grinned. "David likes company…"
A/N: Will they ever leave? Will Riley survive? (heh, well, you know me…) Will they all end up with nosebleeds? Well you'll just have to wait and see…