FIC: Pulp Faith (3/?)
"How do I look?"
Xander gulped at the most terrifying question a woman could ask a man. Forcing his gaze to his companion stood in the doorway of the bathroom of their shared hotel room, he allowed his jaw to drop to the thick carpet.
Faith looked discomforted, but she really shouldn't. She looked for all the world like a screen siren from Hollywood's glory years. The Slayer had a full-length silvery evening gown that sparkled thanks to the hundred of sequins embroidered on it, the front cut into a 'v' that disappointedly ended at mid-cleavage while the back was cut in an 'u' that ended at the small of the Slayer's muscled back. The outfit was completed by a mink fur shawl over her shoulders and white, forearm-length silk gloves.
Xander finally found his tongue. "You look great. Huh," Xander winced as a niggling thought occurred, "how much did all this cost?"
Faith shot him a suspicious look. "You sayin' I'm not worth it?"
Xander gulped. "No ma'am."
Faith nodded smugly. "Right answer."
Lamont Cranston whoever he was, at least sent them a sleek, tinted-window limo, complete with peak-capped driver to pick them up. The car roared through the city, the metropolis' twinkling lights illuminating the night, and dropped them at an exclusive suburb, at the stepped entrance of a vast white-washed mansion. "'Kay," Faith took a long breath as the door swung open, the black driver with his eyes carefully cast down, "let's see who Cranston is."
"Yeah," Xander was lookin' pretty fly in his tuxedo, not Bond or anything, but a head-turner nonetheless.
In a matter of moments they'd been led through into a vast open lounge filled with people in the latest fashions, all politely talking as big band music played on the background. Faith's lips twisted as she noticed that while all the guests were uniformly white, the drink & food servers were all black. "Ahhh," a tall, lean-faced man with slicked back dark hair and even darker, intense eyes strode up to them, "the two heroes from the bank I believe, I was there making a deposit of my own. Your actions were most daring." Cranston's gaze turned to her as he took her hand and kissed it. "And your beauty is breath-taking."
Cranston's piercing gaze impaled Xander. "The pair of you were certainly most effective in taking down those two bank robbers. I'd imagine you had some sort of army training, but for the eye, and what army takes women, even one as fetching as your companion."
"His companion," Faith broke in, she'd always taken it real bad when people talked about her like she wasn't there, "went to some kick-ass self-defence classes growin' up."
"Yes of course," Cranston's painted-on grin slipped an inch but quickly settled back in place. "Well mingle, introduce yourselves."
"Yeah," Faith had seen a tall bronze-haired dude with piercing gold eyes and a square jaw chipped from rock as well as the shoulders of a linebacker and a waist like a ballerina that she'd love to introduce herself to.
Over and over again.
Xander on the other hand was looking real close at a middle-aged man with wild white hair and a thick moustache. The man was wildly gesturing, his eyes intense, and his voice thick with an accent and emotion. "Hitler, you have no idea how evil he is," the man said. "People taken from their homes, their belongings taken from them, all for the crime of their race!"
Faith opened her mouth to ask Xander if he'd recognised the man, and then all of a sudden her friend was moving, gliding through the room, in and out of the congregated party-goers like a wide receiver going for a touchdown.
Xander couldn't believe it. He was stood in the same room as arguably the greatest scientist and inventor of the 20th century – Albert Einstein. Xander's heart skipped a beat as he spied a tall, slab-shouldered man with a greying goatee and sharp black eyes striding towards the world-famous scientist.
Before he knew it he was moving, motoring through the party. He reached out and grabbed the man's shoulder, spinning him towards him while powering up through calves and driving the top of his head into the man's mouth. Blood burst from the man's mouth as he stumbled backwards, but to his credit he still managed to throw a hook that Xander parried on his forearm while driving an uppercut into the man's jaw.
The man took a step back, a dagger leaping into his hand, as he slashed at Xander's face. But Xander stepped around and outside the man's attack, grabbing his adversary's arm at the wrist and elbow, and rammed the elbow inwards while yanking his wrist out. "Ahhhh!" the man screamed as his elbow snapped, face greying as his knife fell from his grasp and he dropped to his knees, Xander's own knee driving up and into the man's face.
"Give the gentleman some room," a booming voice commanded. Xander looked up to see a towering bronze-haired muscleman with intelligent gold eyes and a square jaw pushing through the surrounding crowd. "You have a good eye, sir. How did you see the man's knife?"
Xander grimaced. "I didn't, I recognised his signet ring as belonging to an order of assassins."
"Oh good gracious," Einstein looked about to faint.
"Xan! What in the hell is goin' on?"
Xander winced at Faith's brusque demand. He knew his friend was only concerned for his well-being, but this wasn't the time where women pushed their way to the front of any violent scene. "Of course," the wide-shouldered man crouched down beside the felled would-be killer, "I recognise the ring as belonging to the Order Of Taraka. I've heard of them, they're an ancient and notorious order of assassins. I'll take this gentleman and rehabilitate him via surgical methods."
"Yeah," Xander stared down at the unconscious assassin, nose wrinkling. The dude looked human, but there were many a species of demon who could pass as human. But on the other hand, explaining that would-. Xander looked up, distracted by another thought. "Who are you anyway?"
"Ah," the man flashed him a gleaming smile, "Clark Savage Jr., pleased to make your acquaintance." The man took his hand and pumped it, his grip strong but without the crushing strength of someone either unaware of their power or trying to prove it. "And you are?"
Xander forced back a gulp as he peered up into the golden eyes of a legend. "Huh, Xander Harris."
"And your beautiful companion?" Savage smiled.
"Faith Lehane," Faith introduced herself.
"Well," Xander just about managed to stop himself from gaping when Savage stood, the assassin draped over his shoulder, "a pleasure to meet you for sure. Here," he passed Xander a business card, "I'd love to see you again. Perhaps nine in the morning?"
Xander managed a slow nod. "Sure." Perhaps it wasn't the smartest move, meeting Doc Savage in his own base, but it was also an undeniable lure. Besides, if anyone could help them, it'd be him.
"Eighty-six floors high?" Faith resisted the urge to shudder as they stepped out of the high-speed elevator and onto Savage's private floor. Not she was afraid of heights exactly, but the only way she figured on getting that high was in a damn plane.
"I know exciting."
Faith looked towards her companion and shook her head. Harris had been kick-ass last night, not that she was surprised especially, cause she didn't partner herself with pussies. What did surprise her was him acceptin' the invitation to come here which seemed to her the very definition of drawin' attention to themselves when they should be operatin' on the downlow. What was also weird was Xander insistin' on them bringin' all their future stuff with them.
Faith whistled as she and her friend stepped up to the doorway opposite the elevator and the door opened to reveal a smiling, not to mention towering, Doc Savage. "Ah, please come in," Savage stepped aside, "I was only at last night's party on a tip there was an assassin there, aimed at my good friend, Albert Einstein, meeting you two was definitely an added bonus!"
"Yeah," Faith stared uneasily at the bronze-skinned giant. She didn't do well with giddy, never had. She glanced around his palatial lounge, the beautifully furnished place seemed to be part living area, part workshop, part lab, and part gym, and in the area living area there sat five men.
"Ah," Savage's smile widened. "You've noted my redoubtable companions." Savage strode over to a red-haired man with long arms. "This is Andrew 'Monk' Mayfair, an industrial chemist." He looked towards a dapperly-dressed man carrying a cane. "Theodore Marley 'Ham' Brooks, attorney at law." Savage looked towards a sad-looking giant of a man. "John 'Renny' Renwick,a construction engineer." Next was a feeble looking fellow. "Thomas 'Long John' Robert, an electrical engineer." Finally there was a man wearing eyeglasses with a magnifying lens over his left eye. "William Harper 'Johnny' Littlejohn, an archaeologist and geologist."
"Pleased to meet you all," Xander smiled at the quintet then glanced at Savage. "As honoured as I am to be here, I'm also a little confused as to why we were invited."
"You're a pair of oddities," Savage raised a hand and smiled. "Please, don't be offended. I merely meant Mr. Harris as the look of a man who has spent several years in exotic climes, he recognised an assassin merely by the ring on his finger, and used a combination of no less than four different martial arts, of each I am a master, to take him down." Savage smiled
"Ain't nothing strange from where I'm sittin'," Ham drawled, "just pleasin'."
"Oh I'd say more, I'd say she's perfect in every way," Monk put in.
"Really?" Faith glanced towards the lawyer and the chemist. "You've got Shoulders over there and my bud rockin' the eye-patch like a bad-ass, and you're gonna try pickin' me up? Admire your nerve if not your sense."
"As I said, very strange," Savage replied.
Xander reached into his rucksack and threw Savage their credit and ATM cards. "What do you make of them?"
"Fascinating," Savage peered at the cards then looked up them, his high forehead burrowed, "I assume from the names on them these are somehow supposed to get you money?"
"Speaking of which," Xander passed Savage a twenty dollar bill.
"An interesting fake," Savage commented, "elaborately made but the date alone makes it useless."
"Try this then."
Savage's eyes widened at their iphones and Faith's ipod, as well as a graphic novel Xander had bought on the way to the crime scene, and the Kevlar vest he wore while patrolling. "How is this technology possible?"
Xander smiled. "I think a logical man such as yourself can work that out for himself."
"Time travel is impossible!" Savage exclaimed.
"And yet, here we are," Xander replied.
"Then," Savage leaned forward, "please tell me where you're from and how you got here."
"2010," Xander paused and winced before continuing, "we got here when a god got annoyed with us and sent us here."
"There is only one true god."
Faith groaned. "Seriously? And I was startin' to get a hankerin' for you, muscles."
"I'd be willing to give up or get religion for you sweetheart, whatever you wanted," Ham practically panted.
"Yes," Xander rubbed his forehead. "I knew this was going to be a hard sell. Faith's a Vampire Slayer-."
"Yes," Savage nodded sagely. "I'm aware of the myth-."
Faith picked a steel bar up off a near-by table and bent it in two. Then she threw it down, picked up a thick, red leather-backed encyclopaedia off the book shelves and tore it in two, then turned to a jaw-agape Ham. "Imagine what I could do to you?"
"Oh he's imagining'," Monk chuckled.
Savage blinked. "Surely there has to be a scientific explanation, perhaps an enhanced diet in the futu-."
"Doc," Xander interrupted, "please, we could take you vampire hunting, find a demon, but if you're not going to be convinced, you're not going to be convinced. But do you accept we're from the future?"
Savage let out a long breath. "Given the amount of evidence you've presented in the form of your gadgets I'm willing to admit that you're either from the future or you somehow have technology that came from the future."
"Then I was hoping you'd help me," Xander looked towards Faith, "that is us get back to our time."
"I'm sorry," Savage gestured towards the gadgets stacked up around the room, "I'm considered advanced for this time, but nothing I've ever developed comes close to solving the mysteries of time."
"I was thinking more of mystical means," Xander held up his hand. "Humour me please. I'm looking for someone called the Sorcerer Supreme."
Savage stared at them for a long moment before nodding brusquely. "Let me check my database of contacts," Doc rose and opened a huge steel filing cabinet. "O for 'Occultists'." Faith exchanged a bemused look with Harris as the superhero began to trill loudly, his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed in concentration. Finally, he spun around. "I have three potential leads for you – a Professor Jones in Chicago, Lovecraft in Providence, and a Professor O'Connell in England."
"Thanks, what did you do with the assassin?" Xander queried as he took the information and began writing it out.
"I operated on him to remove his criminalistic tendencies," Savage replied. "The poor fellow was most remorseful, and informed me of his Order's intention to kill another two people tonight."
"Okay," Xander's brow furrowed as her friend hesitated. "There's something you should know, the Order Of Taraka aren't just old, they're demonic."
Savage's eyes widened. "The assassin you disarmed the other night was human."
"Yeah," Xander nodded. "Sometimes they employ humans, but demons and black arts mages too."
Savage pursed his lips. "That complicates matter. Perhaps I could endeavour on the pair of you to assist?"
"How so?" Xander queried.
"One of you could go with me to deal with one of the planned assassins, while the other could accompany the rest of my team to deal with the other," Savage replied.
"Who are the targets?" Faith put in.
"A Dr. Abraham Erskine, another of those gallant Jews fleeing Hitler's savagery, an expert bio-chemist, and a Dr. Phineas Horton, a robotics expert," Savage replied.
"I'm goin' with Savage." Faith shook her head when Xander looked towards her. "Hey, no way am I goin' with those two chauvinistic asses."
