iAm Back in the Game
Disclaimers: I don't own iCarly, any of those characters, Just Shawn Wolff; he's mine from many stories back. Read 'Outcasts', and my Charmed series to find out about him. I set this story in the universe created by experimentalgirl17, with her permission. This is my second 'iCarly' FF and my 5th with Shawn. In this world, Shawn and Phoebe have been married 40 years and we find out more about his past and how Julia/ Carly fits into it.
"Would you like some coffee?" Shawn asked Phoebe as the waiter cleared their dinner plates. They had gone out for their 40th anniversary. Even with the silver/gray hair and wrinkles, she still looked as good to Shawn as day he married her.
"No thank you. If I drink coffee now, I'll be up all night."
"And that's a problem?" He gave her a wicked grin.
"You are a dirty old man." She noticed him fidget with his hands. "I've known you for over 42 years, what are you hiding?"
"The one lie I've kept all these years." Phoebe prepared herself for an affair or something tragic. "When we met, I lied about my age, I wasn't 32, I was 72."
"So you're what? 112?"
"Yeah, Remember when I told you that I would live for 2 or 300 hundred years?" She nodded, "Well, DNA testing shows that I inherited the gene for immortality. Barring traumatic injury, I will never die. I had the kids tested, they're mortal." He looked at his hands. "I will have to bury my children and their children. I envy you so."
"It's not how long you live Shawn; it's what you do with your time that matters. You had me worried that you had slept one of my sisters or something." Phoebe wiped a tear as she remembered her two sisters. Prue had died of cancer in her late 50's. Piper developed Alzheimer's; it broke Phoebe's heart every time she visited Piper and had to answer 'Where's Prue and Phoebe, Grams?' Her family was forced to place her in a nursing home, as she required an ever-increasing amount of care. About 3 years ago, their house phone rang in the middle of the night.
"It's Piper." Shawn said as he hung up the phone. She had passed quietly during the night. Phoebe was the last of the Charmed ones.
She looked at Shawn; his hair had been colored gray to match hers. If he let his natural color come in, he could easily pass for a man of 30. He ordered two hot chocolates when the waiter returned. He leaned over and kissed her, then excused himself. Walking towards the men's room, Shawn thought he smelled something strangely familiar, old death. Older than anyone could fathom; he pushed it out of his mind.
Returning to the table, he saw HER! It couldn't be, Julia was in New York last he heard. She looked at him and smiled an evil smile. She held Phoebe's head up, exposing her neck. There was a look of pure terror on Phoebe's face. Before he could react, she sank her fangs into Phoebe's neck.
"NOOOOOO!" His cry caused the other patrons to look at Phoebe and Julia. Shawn drew his pistol from under his jacket. As a final insult, Julia tore the side of Phoebe's neck out. He tracked Julia with his gun as she ran out of the restaurant, never giving him a clear shot. Shawn ran to Phoebe, his brain telling him that it was too late: his heart telling him to try. He pressed his hand to the gaping wound, her blood flowing around his fingers.
"Lo-ve you." Were the last words she spoke.
The funeral was a simple affair. Their children sat next to him. Shawn Jr. had been groomed since childhood to take the reigns of SecureTech, the company Shawn had started and built into the global empire it was today. His daughter, Patricia, named for Phoebe's mom, had gone into medicine. She was a hematologist and one of the leading researchers into blood disorders; her work was the stepping stone to a cure for vampirism. His youngest son, Michael, had joined the clergy. He was the Archbishop of San Francisco. One of his associates was performing the funeral. Per her wishes, Phoebe would be cremated and interned in the family plot. Shawn would have had her cremated even if it was not her wish; he didn't want to risk her becoming one of the undead.
As their friends filed past, Shawn wanted nothing more than to leave. He had buried more than his share of friends and family. Willow Rosenburg, his right hand, sat behind him. After most of the people had left, she leaned over the chair.
"How you holding up?"
"I knew that one day we would be separated by death, but not like this." He exhaled slowly, "Willow, have papers drawn up to transfer control to Shawn, and split my shares equally between the kids."
"Anything else?" Please don't ask me to do that, please. She mentally begged.
"All the counter spells, charms, talisman, everything that you've put up over the years to keep 'Him' in check; Take them down." Shawn looked at her, "It's time for me to get back into the game."
"You know that the rules have changed since the last time you killed a vampire. You need an order of execution for it to be legal."
"I'll get it."
"The mayor already said that he wouldn't sign one. I saw that he's got a tattoo on his wrist, it's the mark of Julia. He's one of her familiars."
"I know a Catholic in Rome, owes me a favor. I'll get the order."
"Is there anyway I can talk you out of this?" Shawn just looked at her, his eyes burning with rage and hatred. "I didn't think so."
"If she had died of natural causes, I would not ask. But Julia has to be stopped. I should have done it 80 years ago, but I didn't see the monster she was, I saw the seventeen-year-old. My mercy towards her cost Phoebe her life." The children walked up to Phoebe's casket, leaving Shawn and Willow alone. "For forty years, she was the light that kept my darkness at bay; that light is gone."
"Shawn, they say that before seeking vengeance, dig two graves." Almost immediately Willow wished she could take that back.
"Shawn Wolff is already dead. He died last Wednesday night. I am the Day-walker." He looked at his left hand, his wedding ring still on his finger. Slowly, he rose and walked up to the casket. He knelt in front of his wife; the tear on her neck stitched up. Shawn pulled the gold band off, the skin white and smooth; it had not seen the sun in 40 years.
"Phoebe, forgive me for what I must do." He slipped his ring onto Phoebe's left ring finger, next to hers; he whispered a prayer for her. Wiping the tears from his face, he inhaled deeply. He turned and walked with purpose towards the waiting car. His children were already in it.
"Shawn, I'm going to finish the month, then retire as planned. It'll be your company to run. I'm going to go to Europe for awhile."
"Daddy," She hadn't called him that in a long time. "What if she comes after us?"
"Michael will give you crosses to wear, vampires will not be able to touch you. Were-beasts will not bother you, this is between Julia and myself."
"Dad, I know you are going to kill her, and while officially, the church does not condone it, I will bless your silver." Michael said.
"Thank you." Nothing more was said during the ride back.
The remaining time passed without incident for Shawn. He slowly scaled back his involvement in the day-to-day operations. He concentrated on locating Julia and his trip to Europe. His family's castle in Romania needed stocked with supplies and his affairs in America needed to be put in order. On his last day there, Shawn started with the board of directors, they were sorry to see him leave, but knew that without his wife, he would be useless. They also knew that his son would handle matters just as well as he could. Over the course of the day, he made the rounds to the departments and said his good-byes. He ended his day in the armory. The weapons master shook his hand and asked if there was anything he could do for Shawn.
"I need 1,000 rounds of silver plated holy-points."
"Doing a little target practice?"
Shawn chuckled and shook his head, "Going to see an old girlfriend."
"Must have been one ugly break-up." He pushed the cart towards the shelf in the back.
"You have no idea."
Shawn was sitting in his soon to be former office; packing up the few personal items left. His kids walked in; they were taking him out for dinner. They said that it was to celebrate his retirement, but really, they were going to try to talk him out of his revenge.
Michael looked over the bullets neatly arranged on Shawn's desk as he prepared to load his extra clips. He studied the silver rounds intently, as if speaking with them. He had the gift of prophecy, as had his mother. Finally, he picked up a bullet from the middle of the group. "This bullet will determine your fates." He handed it to his father, then blessed the remaining rounds.
"May I?" He asked for that one bullet back.
"Why?" Shawn handed it to him.
"This one gets last rites."
"Mr. Wolff." Janis broke in over the intercom. "There is a young woman here to see you. She says she has information about Carly."
"I don't know anyone named Carly."
"She said that you know her as Julia."
"I'll be right out." He turned to kids, "I need to speak with her, can you wait in Willow's office?"
"Sure, I need to go over some items anyway." Shawn Jr. answered, leading his siblings out.
Shawn walked to the waiting area and saw a woman, about 25 he guessed, sitting there. He could smell cordite and gun oil. Also, there was the lingering smell of old death on her as well.
"I'm Shawn Wolff." He shook her hand. He felt a tap in his mind, like the woman was trying to read it.
"Sam Puckett."
"Why don't you come into my office." He led her in. After the door was shut, "As you have already found out, I am not your average human. Do not try your mental powers on me, familiar."
"I'm not a familiar. I'm Carly's ex-girlfriend. She saved my life a few years back."
He looked at her; "You're 'The Executioner'."
"Yeah, but I really don't care for that work. What else you know about me?"
He opened a folder in his laptop. "Samantha Marie Puckett, Single, Mother Sandra Puckett, Father William Puckett incarcerated, one sister Melanie Elaine Puckett, deceased. Necromancer, vampire hunter, consultant for the Seattle Police. You earned the nickname 'The Executioner' and have worked on occasion with Henry 'The Grim Reaper.'" He read off some more information.
"And what do you know about Vampire Hunting?"
"Well, since vampires are now outted, I've been keeping tabs on the vampire hunters. You, Henry, the Four Horsemen in DC, the Kline brothers in Houston, The Death Dealers out of Chicago, and The Slayer. As for my personal interest in supernaturals, I was killing them before your grandpa was an idea. I may be only 112 years old, but even the ancient vampires steer clear of me." That caught her attention. "The vampires and were-beast pass my true name on a whisper, as if saying it aloud will bring my wrath upon them. Young lady, I am the Day-Walker. My father was a born vampire; ironically, my mother was the Slayer. I have all the strength and power of both the undead and the slayers, and only one weakness, the thirst. You want to stop me from killing her, right?"
"Yes, I do." Sam tried to mind fuck him. She felt like she was hitting a brink wall. Shawn just sat there loading the magazines. His fingers were moving almost faster than Sam could see. She was straining to find any chink in his defenses.
"You're just wasting your energy. You would have to be a master vampire to have any chance with me. You're a size 4, correct?"
Breathlessly, "Yeah, why." Sam felt the mental armor she had worked so long on creating swept away like so much loose paper. All she could see was herself from Shawn's point of view. Her face suddenly rushed forward as she was hit with a massive wall of psychic energy. She had been leaning back in her chair; the mental onslaught caused her to fall backwards. As she lay twitching on the floor, she could hear Shawn call out to her, but could not make out what he was saying; her mind was overloaded. Mercifully, her world went black.
"Huh?" Sam could smell the coffee. Her head ached; she hadn't felt this awful since she drank that whole bottle of tequila.
"I asked if you were alright?" Shawn tipped her chair back up, with her still in it. Sam saw a pair of slacks and a polo shirt on his desk. "You took a nasty spill. Drink this."
"What is it?"
"It's Blue Mountain coffee. Costs about $50 a pound." She looked at him suspiciously. "After that display, you think I would do something as juvenile as poison the coffee." He sipped the brew, to show it safe.
She took the cup and slowly drank some. "What the hell did you do to me?" She had never felt a power like his.
"My mental powers rival some of the oldest vampires in the world. I merely gave you a taste of what I can do. As I feared, you soiled yourself." Sam realized that her pants were wet.
"That's why you wanted to know my size. I thought you were some pervert."
"My dear, I just buried my wife of 40 years; while you are very attractive, I have no interest in your body."
"Well, I'm still gonna try to stop you." Shawn noticed her shoulder muscles twitch. In the time it took her to reach her gun, she felt someone behind her. A gun pressed to the back of her head as Shawn whispered into her ear.
"As I said before, I have the speed of both a born vampire and the Slayer. Do not force me to kill you." He reached around and removed her pistol from the shoulder holster. "Don't go for your back up piece." He removed the clip and examined the bullets. "Silver plated rounds, good against a were-beast, but useless for vampires."
"You got anything better?"
"As a matter of fact." He handed her one of the bullets from his desk. "The tip is filled with holy water. Good against vamps or weres. Designed them myself." He wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to her. "When we are done, take the elevator to the basement and give this to the man behind the desk."
"What is it?"
"An authorization to give you 1,000 of these."
"Look, you may be able to get what you want from everyone else because you're Shawn fucking Wolff, but I will not be bought for 1,000 silver bullets."
"I wasn't attempting to buy you. Merely to give you the latest in weapons technology. Now, how about you use my personal bathroom and get cleaned up. Then you and I can talk about Julia."
"Probably got a butt-load of cameras in there."
"Not a single camera in this whole office.
Sam returned to the office wearing the clothes Shawn had given her. She was still a little unsteady from the mental dual. In the time she took to shower, he had loaded all but a single round. He sat in his chair, holding that bullet.
"What's that?" She asked, he voice seemed loud in the silent office.
"My son Michael said that this bullet will determine our fates." He topped off one of the magazines and looked at Sam. "I guess that means I'll kill her with that bullet."
"Why do you want to kill Carly so much?" Sam realized how asinine her question was.
Snorting once in laughter, "It's more than just Phoebe." Shawn decided he could trust her. "This is a long story, would you care for something to eat?"
"I'll take a sandwich or whatever." Using her mental powers had left her very hungry.
"Some 80 years ago, I was a young slayer, I could wipe out entire nests of vampires or dens of were-beasts and not feel anything. But when I was not killing, I had horrible depression. I was almost completely isolated." Shawn waited for the underling to deliver the food and leave. He pushed one tray to Sam and motioned for her to eat. The burgers smelled wonderful to her; she grabbed one up and took a bite. The meat was delicious, cooked to perfection. Sam swallowed and asked, "Where did you get this beef?"
"It's actually Buffalo. I have a contract with a rancher in western Montana. He raises them free-range, completely organic. Higher in protein than beef and tastes better." Sam nodded in agreement.
"One day, I was on leave from the slayers and wondering through the local market. I stopped at this shop. The young woman working the counter was lovely beyond words." Shawn thought back to her. "Her name was Rosalynn. Her father owned the shop. He knew what I did, but not what I was." Shawn pushed his tray towards Sam, who grabbed another burger. "We saw each other for several months; those were some of the best of my young life. I was happy; I now had a face to the masses I was protecting. Julia learned of me and wanted to impress her master, an elder vampire named Ofmin. She waited one night for us to return from the theater; the National Opera was in town. I had become relaxed when not on a mission and had left my weapons at the watchers. Julia came from behind us and snapped Rosalynn's neck. I was heart-broken. After her funeral, I begged her father's forgiveness. He said to leave his house and never return."
"What did you do?" Sam poured another cup of the strong coffee.
"I turned my anger into action. I hunted her down, killing any vampire or were-beast that got between us. I'm sure you have heard of 'The Cleansing?'" Sam shook her head. "I finally cornered her in the meeting hall of the Council of Seven. She challenged me to a duel. I accepted, but instead of taking her head; I shamed her in front of her masters. If I had killed her all those years ago, Phoebe would be alive now."
"And I'd be a human servant or a vampire myself." Sam pointed out. "With my power, how would that shift the balance?"
"I concede that point. But it's not just your current powers that makes you so desired by the vampires; it's your potential." Shawn sipped his coffee; it had gotten cold. "You have powers yet to be discovered, great powers that could bring about the end to the vampire/ Human war, or tip the balance to one side."
"That's why everyone wants me." Sam wondered what undiscovered powers she had. She had eaten all four burgers, and was getting tired. "Carly said something about my powers. She can still mind fuck me, but it takes a lot now."
"You shouldn't swear." Shawn noted her state. "How is Carly?" The name sounded strange to him.
"Good, other than killing your wife. Sorry, I'm such a dumb-ass sometimes." A thought popped into her head; "You had the food drugged."
"No, you just ate so much that you're what is called 'meat-drunk'." Shawn refilled their coffee mugs. "Drink this."
"Why are you being nice to me? You want me to tell you where she is?" Sam knew if he pushed mentally, she would give up everything.
"That would save me time, or I could just crack your mind open and find out what you know, but the hunt is half the fun."
"Well, thanks for the burgers and the bullets, but I not telling you where she is." Sam pocketed the paper. She had driven down from Seattle, so transporting the bullets wouldn't be an issue. She enjoyed the quiet time in the car alone. Just her and the CD's. "Even if I told you where she was, Carly's already left."
"I know, she left last night on a west bound flight." Shawn loaded the boxes of personal items on a cart. He pulled a business card from his pocket. "This is the rancher I buy from. Drop my name when you call, he'll give you a better price."
"Thanks, for what it's worth, I'm sorry about your wife." Sam took the card.
"Thank you."
