WRATH OF THE EAGLE
Disclaimer: previous chaps
A/N (Jason): valid point on the apartment, but, it really goes more against her on the negativity. She should be a bit more grateful for what she has instead of griping about what she can't get. Aside from that, whoever said a Slayer has to be destitute? And, about the superpowers deal, that's basically another form of prejudice, believing that just because they don't have powers that they can't do anything useful. It's like saying that old people can't do a damn thing right or that black people are all stupid! Granted, it's a war against the supernatural so, I can see how you'd have to be supernatural to fight it but, I think the Judge disproves that somewhat. Besides, she could have trained them, if anything else to give them a better shot at making it on the Hellmouth but, no! Don't do that, in case they actually become better on some level than her! For example, look at Angel's crew, he taught them all a few moves to help them out, but not her! Another reason why I like that show better than the original (shameful, I blame ME).
╟℣╢
Well, here's another nice mess you've gotten me into!
- Sons of the Desert
╟℣╢
Xander leaned back in his chair as he watched Cordelia practice on the dummy that Giles had set up. He was judging her for her speed, accuracy, and timing. However, to anyone who had ever met, seen, or even heard of the man, they would believe that he was currently staring at her fantastic ass. Unfortunately for any betters out there, the young man was only judging her. However, his mind did work towards where he could take a mental recording of such images and use them at a later date…so, perhaps whoever was putting money down would be a winner. Who knew?
Cordelia finished a roundhouse against the dummy and turned around for one half second, noticing Xander's smirk as she did so, and she responded with a playful smirk of her own.
"Enjoying the view," she questioned.
"Very much so," he opened his arms wide as he answered, "Your radiance is like…something radiant."
She smiled at him, her heart lifting as she heard his words. Not the best attempt at suave but, for Xander, it was astounding. She decided to up this a notch and turned fully around to face him, placed both her hands along her hips, and walked towards him, insinuating every motion as vividly as she could.
"Really," she quirked her eyebrow up slightly, "And why am I so radiant?"
She sat down in his lap and slowly wrapped her legs around his waist, causing his eyes to open wide in amazement at his current situation. He took a quick second to come to and took a short breath to calm himself before thinking of a remark.
"…I don't know," he admitted with a wry grin, "I guess you just are…you're Cordelia, my goddess."
She smirked at him, not sure how to take his answer. So, she decided to spare him any more attempts at suave by leaning down and planting a smoldering kiss against his lips. He responded pleasantly, adding his own brand of kissage to the mix and, before long, the two were in a heated make out session, one of which might have led to adult situations (not that they could give a damn at the time) if it hadn't been for the timely intervention.
"Oh, Lord," the two stopped in their exploration of each other's mouths as they heard the British voice shout out.
Giles was standing in the entrance of the library, his glasses in his hands, polishing them with an edge that screamed 'danger, core overload in progress!'
"Giles, you OK in there," Xander asked, a lopsided grin firmly in place.
The Watcher glared.
╟℣╢
Willow sighed contently as Oz walked out of the crypt later that evening. He had told her to remain behind for a moment while he inspected it. So far, after nearly two days of training, the young werewolf had displayed a great amount of zest and skill for boxing, British pub style. He had a short stature but, held a defensive stance similar to that of a boxer, thus the reasoning behind Giles's choice. His motions, however, were erratic at best. His key strength was, in fact, in his height. It allowed him the ability to duck underneath a great number of punches but, against someone who practiced kickboxing, his height could turn up as a disadvantage. It all depended on who he was fighting.
"Good," he called out to her as he walked down the small stairs, "Just a rat."
"So, did you hear the big commotion today," she asked as she entwined her fingers with his own.
"Xander and Cordy," at her nod, he nodded as well.
"I was amazed when I heard it," she said with a grin, "Well, not entirely amazed because it was Cordelia, you know, still kind of a skank, though she's better now, and Xander because he's a guy mesmerized by her enlarged rack but, still, not in a closet, in the library, in front of Giles…"
"…Skank," he questioned after a moment.
"Well, yeah," she said with a look of moderation on her face, "Or, she was. Nowadays, she's all about Xander."
"Then, she's passionate," he stated philosophically.
"What do you mean," she asked, confused.
"Before, it was about power and guys," he said to her, "Now, it's about Xander and saving lives. She's passionate about both."
"…Wow," she said, as though a light had suddenly lit a dark place in her life, "I never thought of it that way."
"It's just like us."
For once, or the first time in her life, she was happy about being compared to Cordelia.
╟℣╢
"Cordy, don't!"
"NO," she rolled her eyes in frustration at him, "I just got this as a birthday present, and I want you to have it. At least this way, you'll have gotten something out of that."
"What," he asked as they walked together around the lot, "That was worth getting kicked out of the library, and a month's delay on the weapons!"
"But, now, you'll get a brand new weapon to kill demons with: a car!"
He sighed in anger. He hated it when she got it in her head to get him something expensive. First, a car. Then, what? A Black Hawk helicopter?
"…Actually," he grinned as thoughts of him flying around North America filled his mind.
"There," Cordelia said, "Now, which car…oh, my GOD!"
She stopped before what, to him, could only be described as a thing of beauty. Before them was a '75 Mustang convertible, crimson in color with black stripes from the headlights on back. Along the sides of the doors were dragons, flying off towards the front of the vehicle. It was in mint condition, just from appearances, and was marked down so much that she wouldn't even have to dip into her Daddy's nest egg that he had given her to buy a new car after her old one had to be put in the shop for a while. There was really nothing spectacular about the vehicle but, there was just something about it that screamed to the two youngsters, like that little voice in your head that tells you to 'Buy me! Buy me! Buy me!'
"So," both jumped up as they heard the sleazy…almost, Willy-like voice behind them and turned to see a middle-aged man with oily hair in a suit, smirking at them, "You like what you see?"
"Yeah," Xander answered immediately, "But, would you mind if I…"
"Looked underneath," Xander nodded, "By all means, go on."
The young man nodded gratefully and walked up to the machine. He opened it up and took a look inside. Cordelia stood in the background, never having been much for manual stuff, aside from violence and manicures, of course. She waited with the salesman (who smelled like schnapps, interestingly) and, a few moments later, her boyfriend lifted his head out from underneath the hood and slammed it back down. He smiled slightly as he walked over to him.
"What's up with the cost," he asked immediately, "I mean, a '75 convertible Mustang in that good a condition? You could probably sell it to an auto museum, or a collector, for a lot more money."
"I've tried," he answered, "But, no one wants it. I blame the town."
Cordelia and Xander shared a look that said 'Yeah, that makes sense.' The Hellmouth had a large rate of deaths and put off a weary vibe to anyone coming, or going. It made sense that any sensible car collector would stay the Hell away from this place. Xander nodded in understanding to the salesman and looked pointedly at Cordy, his eyes questioning.
"I like it," she answered honestly, "And, I'll still be able to keep Daddy's money, I can literally pay for this outta my pocket."
The salesman, if possible, became more oily.
╟℣╢
Said salesman watched them pull out of the lot in their brand new car. He smiled as they did so. They had no idea what they were in store for.
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"Nice," Oz said as Xander and Cordelia showed off their new wheels in the high school parking lot later that evening. They had stopped by, knowing that he and Willow had to check in with Giles before going home, "'75?"
"1975," Xander said with a cheeky grin, "What do you think, Wills?"
Willow stared at the car, an odd look on her face. After a moment, she snapped out of it and turned her attention to Xander.
"It looks good," she admitted, "But…there's something about it that's putting me off."
"Dealership said it did that, or the town did, actually," Cordy stated, "Still, it's a good car. Xander took a look underneath the hood, found nothing wrong."
"You know cars," Oz questioned.
"No," Xander said, "Soldier does. He used to work on this exact same kind of car before he got redeployed. I know the inner workings of this car inside and out."
"Cool."
Willow continued to stare at it, completely transfixed upon the device. There was something about the car, something that put her off. She didn't know what and, until she had a reason why, she was going to encourage her friends about it. Plus, after what Oz had explained to her, she felt the urge to become better, at least in Cordelia's opinion.
"It looks great," she said with a smile, "SO, go take it out. Fly around a little. But, not literally, you might break a few bones."
"Good thinking, Wills," Xander said, "Hey, we can wait here, take you home?"
"Van," Oz said simply.
"Have fun," Willow waved goodbye and the two took off towards the library.
"What was up with Willow," Cordelia asked after a moment.
"Don't know," he said with a grin, "…You wanna drive?"
"No," she said with a leer his way, "I wanna be driven."
She smiled and turned back to the car, leaving Xander staring at her.
"…Damn," was all he could muster.
He grinned and followed her to the Mustang, hopped into the driver's seat, and started the engine. Neither noticed, however, that as soon as he turned the key, the two dragons' eyes on the side glowed a faint black, then the two disappeared altogether.
As the two drove along the road, they came to a stop at a red light. Xander had his hands on the steering wheel while Cordelia was resting her head on his shoulder. As they waited for the light to change, both were so focused on nothing that they didn't noticed the soft glow of the wheel, followed by it traveling up Xander's arms and into his body. It was followed by another light flowing along Xander's shoulder to Cordelia's head and throughout her body. Before the light changed, she sat up and stared at him, and he her. They smiled at each other, smiles that had never before been seen on either faces.
"We're back," they said to each other.
╟℣╢
Willow sat inside her class that Monday, wondering what was wrong. Neither Xander nor Cordelia had been seen all day, which in itself was odd for them, seeing as how they had a Scooby Meeting later this afternoon. She turned her attention to Oz, whose features held a bit of worry, detectable only to the trained eye…or his girlfriend. Both looked up, however, as they heard the door open to reveal…
"Xander," she whispered.
Gone were his geek cloths and baggy pants. Now, he stood there, dressed in a pair of tight denim blue jeans which were worn out along the sides, a pair of old fashioned cowboy boots, an equally tight white shirt which showed off muscles she had never seen before, and a black leather jacket with tassels along the front and sides. He had on a pair of circular glasses which kept his eyes completely covered. He also had on a necklace which, from her distance, appeared to be that of a pair of crisscrossed revolvers. The teacher, a middle aged woman with black hair, glared at him.
"Mr. Harris," she said snootily, "Would you kindly take your glasses off and explain to me why you show up at the end of class?"
Xander, in return, pulled his glasses down to the bridge of his nose and glared at her, a murderous glare that spoke highly of ill intent, causing the lady to back up a few paces in fright and the rest of the class to gasp...it was there first sighting of Xander's neon eyes.
"No, Ma'am," he said with mock innocence, "I will not kindly take my glasses off and, as to the question of where I was, that is, frankly, none of your damn business and I'll thank you to stay out of my personal affairs, otherwise I might have to do something…displeasing."
She stared at him in shock, as did the rest of the class. He had come dangerously close to threatening a teacher. Snyder was going to have a field day with him tomorrow, or later today, it all depended on what mood he was in. Fortunately for all present, the bell rang, releasing them from their captivity. Xander pulled his glasses back up and turned on his heel outside the door, with Willow and Oz hot on his tail. They believed that they had to catch him, to figure out what was wrong. Instead, when they turned towards the library, assuming he'd go that way, they both felt an arm come up around their shoulders as Xander leaned against them both.
"Hey, kids," he said with a grin, "Now, before you go getting on my ass, this is they way it works. Remember that car the X-man bought not this weekend," at their nods, he continued, "Well, it ain't no ordinary car. See, I'm not Xander."
"What," Willow shouted out instantly, "Who are you?"
"Name's J.D.," he said with a leer her way, causing her to blush and Oz to take on a non-existent look of jealousy, "Now, obviously, you're wanting to know my story but, why don't we wait till we get to your library, eh?"
The two nodded and looked up, only to see that they were already in the library. Xander, or J.D., took his arms off of them and walked over to the table. He grabbed a chair and sat down on it, putting both his feet up on the table as he sat, to get more comfortable. The two students shared a look and decided to go along with him, what choice did they have right now, anyway? They sighed together and sat down across from him, just as Giles walked out of his office.
"Xander," he said scathingly, "In spite of your cavalier style of living, would you please keep both your feet off the table?"
Xander, or J.D., just stared at him and grinned innocently.
"…No," he said haughtily, "I won't. You know why?"
Giles glared at him, amazed at the youth's insolence. If he had said that to his father back when he was that young…which, in actuality, he had and got away with it, but that was beside the point.
"Because, I'm not Xander," he finished.
"…What," the Englishman asked, taking off his glasses and cleaning them, "What do you mean…possession?"
J.D. nodded.
"Dear Lord, why can't this boy retain control of his body," Giles questioned the Almighty with a groan and replaced his glasses to his brow, "Alright, who are you?"
"Name's J.D.," he answered, slipping into a cockney accent as he said so, "Born in Memphis, Tennessee, December 3rd, 1929, died in Sunnydale, California, July 26th, 1975."
"…What were you doing here," the British Watcher inquired.
"My girlfriend and I were in Sunnydale, doing a deal with a warlock," he said, an evil look upon his face, "We were drug dealers. Warlock called, needed his fix, we came, warlock killed us, or nearly. We were in our car, he killed us with a few bolts of lightning. Before we passed on, though, this warlock's enemy offered us a chance: we get bound to the car and, whenever two people come along and drive it, we take them over, get our revenge, then pass on. Simple as that."
"A vengeance spell," Giles suggested and, at J.D.'s nod, said, "Very well but, ugh, if this warlock has gotten better then, I…we can't condone killing him. It would be too much for your host to handle, I think."
"I am aware of the kid's morals," J.D. blanched at the word, "Can't say I give a damn about killing people. Heck, I'm on the highway to Hell as it is."
"…You listened to that song," Oz asked.
"What song," J.D. seemed confused.
"Highway to Hell, AC/DC," Giles informed, gaining a look of admiration from the young werewolf.
"Never heard of them," he gained a doubtful look from Giles for that.
"There first album was in '76," Oz reasoned, "Before you go, you are listening to some of my records."
"Mine, as well," Giles stated.
"Cool," J.D. grinned happily, "I love rock music. Maybe I can play a little before I go. I'm sure Sam will love it, too."
"Sam," Willow asked.
"Yeah, the girl you call Cordelia," he said, a glassy look overtaking his features, "She's just as hot as Sam was, almost identical."
"…You lucky bastard," all eyes turned to Giles in shock, "What? If I were him, I'd want my girlfriend to look like what she had before."
Willow stared at him for a moment and realized that, yes, if she too were in that position, she'd want the same thing. She sighed and realized that they had all forgotten something.
"Where is Sam," she asked.
"Finding stuff out on that warlock," he said, "…Actually, she's right there."
All eyes turned towards the front of the library. There, walking in from the doors, was Cordelia. Dressed in a pair of skintight croc skin pants with an unlaced pair of gray boots on her feet. She had on a black wife beater with an exposed midriff, allowing the world the ability to see her taught stomach. She also had large bracelets, almost like gauntlets, on both her wrists, along with blonde highlights. She walked into the library and smiled openly when she saw everyone.
"Hey," she greeted, "You tell 'em?"
"Lady and gentlemen," he stood up and walked over to Cordelia/Sam and wrapped his arm around her, "This is Samantha Burk, born September 1st, 1929, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, died in Sunnydale, California on July 26th, 1975. Did you find him?"
"Yeah," she said and she leaned into him, almost as though they were made for each other, "He's in a mansion near the center of town. He's still evil, for your boy's morals."
"How do you know," Willow asked, doubtful of this woman.
"He threw a bolt of lightning at his servant," she stated calmly, "He's taking his afternoon nap right now, getting ready for a sacrifice at the Witching Hour. Wanna go get him?"
"Sure," he said with a grin, "And, afterwards, Giles and Oz are going to take me and you and force us to listen to all the music that's been around after we died."
"I heard a great band on the way," she said as they turned around, "On the radio. I think they were called…Dingoes…something to do with dingoes."
"Dingoes Ate My Baby," Oz asked.
"Yeah," Sam said as she turned around smiled at him, "How'd you know?"
"I play guitar for them."
╟℣╢
Robert Belmont had been living on the Hellmouth for years. He was a practitioner of the ancient arts, magic, and potions. As such, he often needed to be awake at all hours in order to successfully mix what was needed. However, he was still just human so, he needed a way to do so. He turned to narcotics. Over the years, though, he had continued on in his addiction and had even begun to crave it more than magic. He had done so much that, at his current age of 89, he was nearly comatose, awake only for a few hours a day. He had woken up for a few moments to yell at one of his servants and nearly kill him but, now, he was fast asleep inside his bed. He would be waking up at midnight to perform a ritualistic sacrifice to gain back a bit of the youth and vitality that he had once had but, midnight was far too late. He didn't stand a chance as a hollow bullet flew in through the opened window and into the back of his head.
╟℣╢
That evening, Giles, Oz, J.D., Samantha, and Willow were all gathered in the Watcher's house, the four playing their chosen instruments and listening to the beat of seventies and eighties rock and heavy metal. Giles held his acoustic guitar close as he played along, unable to create the same sound as Oz's electric guitar, or J.D.'s recently purchased (by means of which the British man was still unsure as to whether or not he wanted to know) slide guitar, or Sam's bass guitar. Willow was just content in watching them, though she did feel somewhat left out.
"And that," Oz said as he finished the chord, "Is how you play all our songs, such as they are."
"They're not bad," Sam commented, "But, you could do better on the chords. And try to add a new mixture of sounds: bass, horns, Hell, even triangle."
Giles and J.D. had no choice but to laugh at that. Before either could finish, however, both Sam and J.D. sat straight up as they felt something.
"It's time," he said and he took his guitar off and placed it on the couch, as did Sam, "Been great meetin' y'all. Now, we really are ON THE HIGHWAY TO HELL!"
He did a fantastic bit of air guitar to emphasize his point. In the middle of his solo, however, the two seemed to pass out and hit the ground. The remaining three were on their feet in an instant and were helping the two get onto the couch. They backed away to give them air, only to have them both wake up simultaneously.
"Giles," Xander muttered as he shook his head, "Never sing Beatles…ever again, my brain cannot take it."
The Englishman chuckled at that and went over to help his son up to his feet as Willow and Oz did the same for Cordelia.
"Ugh, my head feels like it's gone through a blender," Cordelia said in pain, "Uh, medication, now!"
Oz obliged and left for the medicine cabinet.
"…Willow," Xander called out to the young witch as he sat down, causing her to immediately come to his side, "You thought something was off about the car, didn't you?"
She reddened slightly before nodding. Xander smiled at her and gently took her into his arms, and she reveled in the safe feeling she got. She felt something different with Oz, safe, yes, but…not as familiar as it was with Xander. She loved him on many levels and would probably never get over her crush but, she could try…for him and Oz…and Cordelia, she admitted.
"…Do me a favor," he whispered into her ear, "Whenever you think of something, whenever you have an opinion, I want you to tell me…tell us. Your opinion is important to us all, and that's not just a holding message to keep you on the line, it's the truth."
Willow smiled at him, grateful to know that she mattered to the group. Cordelia watched them with a grin as Oz came back in with some Tylenol. He followed her gaze and allowed a single grin to escape his stoic face before sobering up and handing her the pills.
╟℣╢
Phoenix, Arizona; last night:
Faith ran as fast as she could down the street. Vampires had come by her place and had destroyed it completely, along with eating several of the other tenants as an early morning breakfast. She had hightailed it out, killing a few vamps on the way, before Kakistos and his lackey, Trick, had shown up. Then, she didn't think the Road Runner on Looney Tunes could outrun her. She just wanted to get up to Denver and find Summers before she got killed. If she had moved on to someplace else, then she would just send it all to Hell and head for Sunnydale.
She felt relief come as she saw the open bus up ahead and jumped aboard, just as the door closed. It took off quickly, the driver afraid for his life.
"Jeez, lady," he screamed as he drove, "What did you do to those vamps?"
She didn't answer.
