BTVS: In League Pt.14
-Buffy multi-
As Brittany had predicted to herself, Rachel revisited the topic of virginity, but not from the first angle of sexual accessibility. It was from the point that Brittany had come to think of as most important; the markings. Which, interpreted, meant the contracts. Something to which, if one understood the deep depth of Rachel's thinking, their pack Alpha was trying to draw their attention. But it was also something not necessarily to be brought up when newbies might potentially hear, thus the original topic.
It was a thing. Noah had a reason, not just for his stories of sexapades, why he had those encounters; as did any slayer or any watcher who took on a mark of contract for the sake of the council and the safety of the world. These marks were both like and not like the notorious Eyghon mark that Mr. Giles originally carried. But it was no shock that a Slayer or a Watcher or a Mage would give their all for their world, their companions, their loved ones; which sometimes was the other contract party. It wasn't a terrible thing, not always a burden and more often a blessing. The contracts were more often simple things like protection of the clan or godparent of the child, which bound them to the contractee to their world rather than to their old plane of existence. The marks were also usually mixed with sigils tattooed or painted on the body; those magical protections and accessible spells often meant life or death. But they were sometimes just tattoos, meant to disguise.
When they gathered a block away from their intended clean-out, Rachel broached the topic again. This time from a different angle. "I've been thinking about how to get the humans out, since that has been our one greatest worry." They all knew they weren't talking about the servants in particular, but about the innocents who had been drawn into the web of the vampires. She leaned against the passenger-side of their newly acquired SUV, care of the human-servant who was no longer in town.
"You mean, your one greatest worry." Santana corrected. She stood by Rachel, also leaning, but with her arms folded, while Quinn and Brittany faced them. Noah was making a last minute scan of the area and setting up for his part of the plan. "I can say in all honesty, three things would happen if we don't have this discussion. First, I would be happy. Second, we go in and they'll scatter like roaches and race for the front door."
"Or the back," added Quinn.
"Third, they get caught in the crossfire, which would not be our fault, as they should not be there in the first place."
"Really, Santana?" Rachel's brow-fu was not as strong as Quinn's, but it had its moments.
Santana refused to look any sort of guilty, however, so the shorter brunette sighed and continued. "Look, regardless of what we know about human nature, it makes sense to minimize the targets we have to avoid. Just from a practical standpoint, correct?"
Santana shrugged, but they all knew the answer.
"So we have the options we talked about previously." She began enumerating with her fingers. "We go in cold and hope shock and awe works enough to get them out of the house before someone gets hurt. We pair up and two of us go in; one set to lead the humans out, carried bodily, if necessary. This may actually be a great secondary strategy anyhow, given what we know about the house set up. But finally, our third option, which we have been debating: we somehow draw them out. And that's what I want to address. My thought is this, Mr. Schue's contract. Do you think it would still be in effect, given our presence in this time and place and the altered circumstances that must inevitably surround it? And Brittany, Santana, how much would you love to play cop strip-o-gram today? That is, if we manage it."
She laid it out there like a verbal ace of spades on top of a full house of spades.
Brittany grinned suddenly and Santana laughed, slapping Rachel's shoulder. "I knew there was a reason we kept you."
Quinn nodded, her eyes gleaming. "We can always try it out. And, even if part of the idea doesn't work, the strip-o-gram would, I think. We can always go accapella."
"Nice." Santana said. "I'm feeling this."
"We should test it out," Brittany clapped her hands tightly and did a little giddy bounce.
"Sure, something simple, but catchy and short." Quinn agreed.
"Well," Santana led, looking pointedly at Rachel.
The brunette's laugh was a puff of air, and she said, "I have a song."
It was as simple as that. A flicker of magic, a ring of sound, like someone had turned on a radio somewhere at just the right time to catch the opening swell of a tune. They grinned at widely at each other.
No one knew what Mr. Schue had promised Brad. In fact, it wasn't until after they had become slayers that any of the original glee class, at least those in the know, had understood what had to have happened. What they did know is that, somehow, Mr. Schue had enabled a bit of permanent magic for those original singers and a few other select people who joined their club later. No matter where, no matter when, no matter what, if one of them needed a song, they could call it up, summon it without more than a whisper of a choice. Sure, they learned to play their own instruments, they learned to sing their own songs, but if they needed back up? It was always there.
This was the kind of contract that saved clubs, saved worlds. This was the kind of contract that was sometimes found in the blood and bone of those who made them. This was the kind of contract that was fun.
Well, at least for the former members of New Directions. No one was really sure about Mr. Schue. He never said anything. He never seemed as if he dreaded the future either. He loved glee club, so he did what he felt he had to get it started and keep it going in the face of challenges. It seemed that whatever it was he agreed to wasn't something he regretted or felt bad about. And, apparently, in the face of things, the contract was still in effect. Perpetuity was such a very long time and covered a great many details.
-BTVS multi-
"They're doing what, right now?" Estelle's query perhaps pitched a little higher than normal. She glanced first at the clock, then out the nearest window. Sunlight still gleamed, but the sunset would be upon them soon enough.
Leroy, cellphone still in his palm, said, "They're getting ready to go in. Rachel wasn't specific, but she mentioned something called a suck-house?"
Estelle hissed through her teeth. "In Lima?"
"Apparently so. What's a Suck-house? It sounds dirty." Hiram commented.
"Oh, it is," Estelle ground out. Then she started toward her basement. "How well armed are the girls?"
Leroy offered her a not quite blank look and a shrug. "They said Noah was getting what supplies he could."
"And that would be?"
Hiram cleared his throat and glanced at his husband, "Well, he didn't say exactly. We gave them some money for clothes and food."
Estelle paused at the top of the steps and turned to look at her sons in consternation. "So, they are essentially going in with their bare hands?"
"Mom, we don't know. We don't..."
She raised her hand to stop their worried dialog. "I know. I'm sorry. I just... I'm sure they've acquired basic equipment. Any good slayer will know how to make their own tools on the fly, but we can do more for them." She started back down the steps, tossing back a, "Well come on, then. Since we don't know when they plan on starting, we had better hurry. I have no doubt that they will plan on using what daylight is left."
A few minutes later and a whole new aspect of Estelle was revealed to her sons and daughter.
Leroy and Hiram gawped, while Judy gaped. No one expected a veritable armory in the basement. No one expected secret compartments and walls either. "Wow," husked Judy. "You kept it all and then some."
"Of course I did. As if I would let the Council get a hold of family belongings" Light from the cabinet reflected off of Estelle's glasses and displayed the content to their view. "Now, there are two empty duffles over in the closet there." She point. "Let's get started."
-BTVS multi-
The doorbell rang, a tinkling sound that seemed wholly out of place for the nature of the house. A few moments later and a bleary-eyed and tousled half-dressed man blinked at the sight before him. It was obvious from his befuddled expression that he couldn't decide whether to run or smile.
Two women stood before him, wearing skimpy navy blue outfits, skirt and top, a closed jacket with brass buttons and cop badges. Their caps were canted forward on their heads, and they wore mirror-surface sunglasses. They wore high heeled platform shoes. Their makeup was flawless, their nails long and sharp. Their teeth perfect in their smiles.
The blonde held a piece of paper in her hand. "Is Mr." She held the note away from her as if she were a little farsighted, or the scrawl illegible. "Smith...available?"
"Who's asking?"
The smaller brunette leaned forward and ran an index finger from collarbone to sternum before saying, "Strip-o-gram. We can't go in. He'll have to come out."
The blonde smiled and jiggled a little, which did wonderful things to the man's imagination, "But tell him he can bring friends if he wants. We don't mind putting on a show." The leer she offered was cute and stirring, prompting an impulsive nod of his head.
The man at the door cleared his throat and glanced away from them and then back into the house. "I'll go see." He started to turn, then looked back. "Wait here!" It was a definite demand, as if he were afraid they would disappear like apparitions.
Maybe a minute later, if that long, several people had crowded at the doorway. One man stepped forward, skinny, dark haired and dark eyed. "I am Mr. Smith," he said with a subtle spanish accent. "We are ready for your show," he leered.
Slayers were trained in tailoring their reactions, but these young women had been long time experts at it before becoming slayers. Brittany, who actually recognized the man in the door, smiled widely, innocently. "Hi! Okay."
No one even blinked when a beat sounded from out of nowhere. What they did, however, was step forward out of instinct as the two women before them stepped away cocking their index fingers in a come-hither motion. They followed as if they were hypnotized, watching as the two women shimmied and gyrated slowly and sexily. Their dance matched the beat, the buttons popped in perfect time to the pulse of the swelling music.
Other people began drifting out the door, curious and turned on. The music picked up and so did the dance. The jackets slid off revealing the skimpiest of navy blue blouses. The man who had claimed to be Mr. Smith found himself half embraced as the jacket was used to pull him close. He didn't expect the whisper from the tall blonde girl, "Tío Jorge, this house is going to get busted like now and you need to get away while you can. Take some friends with you. Oh, and Mami is going to want a word with you later about bad habits, because I am so telling."
The jacket dropped to the ground behind the shocked man, forgotten, and the young woman danced away from him and toward her companion. Her lips graced the smaller brunette's ear and he caught the nod. The girl lifted her sunglasses for just a moment and something about her eyes caught his breath, made him shiver and instantly decide he wasn't going to watch any more of the dance. He looked around, noticing how captivated everyone else was. It was enough for him. He stepped out of the forefront of the crowd, letting an excited spectator take his place. He tapped the shoulder of cousin Ernesto. "It's time."
"But I'm watching the show!" That earned the cousin a slap on the back of the head.
That was followed up by, "Okay, but when things go bad, don't say I didn't warn you."
The girls kicked it up a notch, brushing up against each other, undoing the snaps of their skirts, throwing out bits and pieces of cloth and costume jewelry.
"How can this possibly go bad?"
"The chica blanca called me Tío. And, Ernie, look closely at her friend. Tell me she isn't one of ours."
The blouses were unbuttoned and the hats were gone. The two young women held batons in their hands; very pointy batons.
"Dios. It's time."
"Told you. Get Tony. He was supposed to have the supplies and our people ready."
"Do we tell that girl who let us in?"
Jorge tisked. "Don't know where she is. If you see her, I guess. She did get us inside, even if it was only for a day."
They grinned at each other. This wasn't their first house cleaning. That meant they did what they had to, find the one person who wouldn't ask too many questions and then plan for their first and only visit to be memorable. They always protected their own, especially when it came to family. And Lima had plenty of family, which did mean, sometimes the unexpected relative with the same idea that no one knew about. Fun times. They had to give the girls props for style at least, but there were only two of them. They no doubt needed back up.
Cousin Ernesto nodded and they split away from each other to go prepare for war.
Behind all the people in the front yard and without notice otherwise, two other women and a strapping young man carrying sundry dangerous items slid into the open, empty entryway of the house.
-BTVS multi-
"Go faster!" Estelle demanded.
"I am already going five miles above speed limit," declared Hiram.
Suddenly he felt his foot pressed down. The vehicle seemed to leap ahead in speed. "Fine," he huffed, "but if we get pulled over, it will only slow us down longer. It's not like they're far away. It's Lima."
"Every minute of sunshine counts, son. Every minute. Peel it."
-BTVS multi-
The sound of an SUV roaring down the street actually managed to be louder than the music that pulsed to the strip-o-gram beat. It was loud enough to draw attention away from the hypnotic shimmying and alert the audience that something large, black and metallic was barrelling its way towards them.
The spectators scattered like rats before the tiger as the SUV bounced up the sidewalk and part of the driveway, leaving skid marks in the grass as the brake was finally applied.
Doors were flung open as Judy and Leroy tumbled out, running toward the back. They were followed by a slower Estelle, while Hiram set the vehicle to park. "Should I leave it running?"
Estelle glanced at the open mouthed slayers. "Girls, you're gathering flies. Supplies in the back." She was pleased that she didn't even have to say it twice. She turned back to look at her son-in-law. "Hiram, if you promise you'll go faster if we need to chase something, you're officially the driver. Leave the car running and stay here."
"I'll drive faster."
"Excellent. Leroy, get the spell bag. Judy, you're weapons master."
"Yes mom!" came from the back, which was now wide open.
-BTVS multi-
Jorge wielded the heavy pistol with the ease of someone who had handled such weapons all his life. In the other hand, he held a thick wooden knife, one he'd personally carved. The method was simple, shoot to slow down, stab to dust. It tended to work rather well with vampires, though less well with the other fearsome beasties. Those however, were not his current target. After alerting his crew, he slipped back into the house intending to start the work before those two girls had to even lift a finger.
He stepped into shadow and dust; lots and lots of dust. Ashes floated in the air, skipped along the ground at his feet. He was briefly startled as he heard a small explosion and saw a bright light from the door leading toward the kitchen. But it was the figure that caromed through that same doorway and off the wall beside him that caught his attention.
In a smooth, practiced motion Jorge fell into a crouch and stabbed Harvey, the vampire's, chest with his wooden knife. Even more dust exploded around him as he quickly extracted the implement of change. One down and many more to go. He had a count in his head, which did not include the possible numbers in the basement. He and his people hadn't had a chance to get down that far and he fully expected it to be dangerous. He heard a yelp and the sound of an explosion of air. More dust.
He looked behind himself at the young brunette dancer who looked like family. She held a crossbow in one hand, a stake in the other. A bandolier filled with vials and bolts crossed from shoulder to hip. "Tio, gonna make yourself useful or just be bait?"
He couldn't help the grin. He lived for this kind of thing.
-BTVS mult-
Ernesto had never seen anything like it. None of the hunters had. He watched as a team of women cut through the enemy with an artistry that could make a man weep. The sexy dance that he'd seen before was sweet, but the memory of watching these women leap and flip, use the walls as bounce points, slice and stab, would remain a treasure forever. And that was only with glimpses, because the truth was that these new cousins moved so fast sometimes he felt as if he were standing still, even though he too was fighting. For every punch he threw, every face he pummeled, every cut he made, one of them made four or five.
He had no way of knowing that they thought they were being slow and inefficient and they were highly aware that their new bodies, while fit, weren't as trained. Yes, they managed feats, but there was a time they were better and faster.
The Hunters followed in the slayers' wake, catching those baddies smart enough to run and dusting them with practiced professionalism. Ernesto might be a lawyer in "real" life in Cincinnati, but he was an experienced hand at dealing with the unfriendlies.
-BTVS multi-
As operations went, it wasn't pretty, but above the ground was technically smooth. Between the four slayers, Noah, the surprise back up of family, the upstairs and the ground floor were cleaned out within twenty minutes. Slower than planned, as for some reason the numbers of vampires were much higher than it should have been. Quinn speculated that the vamps had been watching the dance too, so obviously they'd all aggregated up top.
Rachel had to own that it might account for some of it, but the fact there were so many in their small town really concerned her.
They gathered in the kitchen. The one door to the basement was closed, with a chair hooked beneath the knob to keep it that way. Not that it would necessarily keep something from coming out if it really wanted to, but sometimes the simple methods were the best.
"Bad vibes," Brittany said. "Getting rid of the overbites didn't get rid of the feeling. I think whatever is down there is old."
"Or has a powerful guardian," agreed Noah.
"Which is why we should just throw a grenade down there and be done with it." One of the hunters said.
"A grenade would be an adequate distraction, but it is unlikely that it would be a permanent one," Rachel replied as she paced, her expression intense. "Given how Estelle's spell of revelation bounced, I think there will be backlash. We've already had three serious injuries in this party," she exhaled and glanced at Jorge, who smiled at her use of his word for the throwdown. From his perspective, it had all been great fun. He had heard of slayers. Any hunter worth their salt had heard of them, but it was understanding there was only ever one. To see four working at once... it was like watching art. That they all claimed to be family of his, well, there were too many emotions to sift beyond pride and the need to protect them, at the moment.
None of the hunters or slayers had walked away from the fight undamaged. The slayers had taken their lumps, like the champions they were, but the bloody scrapes were already healing. Jorge had an obvious shiner starting to bruise and a busted lip, but that was a small injury compared to Ernesto's, whose left leg had been broken at the knee and thigh by a heavy hitter. He'd been carted out to the SUV by Brittany and had shouted out as they pulled him through the door, "I'm alright! I still got bullets!"
"Okay, so no explosives," Noah commented.
"Well, not immediately," Rachel confirmed. "I think we need to do this the old fashioned, brute strength way. Slayers first."
"Hey, why do the girls get to go first?" One of the cousins protested.
"Because its our job," snapped Santana.
"It's our job too."
"Can you bend a crowbar?"
"If I have the right tools..."
For some reason that set Quinn laughing, which started Brittany giggling. "Okay. Okay. Look, we don't know what's down there. I doubt it's a Master Vampire, because, hey, this is Lima. But, whatever it is, is awake by now, holed up and waiting. It's night time, so the only reason they're not up here is that they know we've got 'em cornered. I think we could use the backup, but we don't want anyone hurt."
"Little Lady, it's just a bit of pain."
Rachel, fortunately, was not like Buffy when it came to her size. However, she was not enamored of being spoken down to. She growled out, "Or death."
The hunter blinked back at her and then shrugged, "Who wants to live forever?"
-BTVS multi-
By the end of the planning, it was decided that it would go Slayer, Watcher, and then Slayer, Hunter, as there were plenty of hunters for back up. The slayers were very protective of Estelle, and so they vetoed her offer until they knew the room was cleared. Judy, Hiram and Leroy and a few of the cousins were assigned the task of getting the injured help and making sure that nothing bad got out of the house while the others were occupied with what remained.
"Ready?" Rachel queried, hand on the doorknob. The chair had been removed and nothing had tried to leave in a hurry. Almost everyone stood to one of the sides of the door, in case. Jorge had chosen to stand about ten feet away, pistol in hand, centermost.
After she got nods of acceptance from everyone, she opened the door, revealing steps down into a darkness that seemed to thicken and grow heavier the farther one looked. She reached in and flicked a switch to the side. The lightbulb, which held an elderly, spluttery glow, barely dented the dark.
Nothing sprang out. No vampires, ghouls or ghastly made their stand. It was, aside from their small movements, eerily quiet.
And still Brittany mouthed the words, "Bad Vibes." She got many nods in return.
Quinn, hefting a pistol in one hand and the machete in the other started forward, stepping lightly and quickly down the stairs. She could feel the darkness waft over her as she entered the stairwell and it was surely skeevy, with a hint of threat. The sensation gave her a bit of an uncontrollable shiver, but she kept pace, and made it all the way down the stairs.
Pressure seemed to build in the air with each step they took into the basement. However, no one stopped or complained or even whispered of fear once they started. This did not mean that Quinn didn't exhale in relief when her feet touched the sturdy, cement floor.
At first glance, there was nothing. No one. Not a single vampire to be had, just a shadowy basement. She waited for a moment, as if something might leap out of the shadows, but nothing did. So she glanced back, gaining a nod in return, which led her to move away from the steps and into the basement proper. Given the space, it should have been easy to discern the contents and parameters of the basement, but the shadows had turned so deep and the lights had grown so dim that it was like entering a cave.
Slayer sight and senses compensated to a certain extent, with her senses screaming a danger signal.
As soon as the last human finished taking the stairs down, the door to the basement slammed shut and the lights that did penetrate the darkness flickered violently.
It was only then that what they sought appeared, seeming to alternate into being in-between the flashes of light. A mass of eyes of all sizes stared back at them, blinking and shifting along a globe-shaped form. If there was a mouth, it wasn't readily apparent, but tentacles wriggled obscenely in patches around the body of the creature. The thing rotated, hanging in the air like a puppet without strings, until they were faced with an eye as large as a human head.
"Holy..." The unfinished swear, seemed to hang in the air as the slayers and hunters and watcher fought to move against the powerful pressure brought to bear against them. Gravity and heaviness in the air compressed their motions. Even the slayer's natural speeds were pushed into slow-motion.
Quinn fired and the bullet could be seen in its travels, riding against the magic in the air, pushing slowly, and most likely harmlessly towards the entity.
As the bullet appeared to float in the air, propelled by that slow motion force, the eye on the monster started to light up.
"Duck!" The call of common sense sounded as if they were under water. The hunters and slayers and Noah all spread out and away as fiery light blasted where Quinn had been standing.
The bullet never even touched the creature. It disintegrated in the bolt of light that zapped from one of the creature's tentacles, which turned out to be eyestalks. Quinn screamed as she felt the heat of the blast scorch past her shoulder, but the scream died down when she realized her shoulder was still attached.
Noah shouted out, feeling as if he were talking through mud, "Don't look directly at it! Swords, knives and flame, if you got it! Slayer speed, kids! Fast as you can go. "
Of course, his warning sounded muffled and drawn out, but by the time he finished, the young women were moving. Also, more slow-motion gunshots rang out, as the hunters followed up Quinn's first volley.
A hunter shouted, "I told you we should've just used a grenade!"
By the time that sentence was finished Rachel had come in swinging, at what would have been an enormous amount of speed anywhere else, and made the first cut. An eyestalk began to drop to the floor as she followed up with another swing up, which tore into a fleshy part of the creature.
The monster screamed, a terrible noise, even as Noah shouted, "Stop shooting!"
By that time, Rachel had been joined by Santana, who had somehow managed to launch herself up and over. She slammed down on the creature from the top, two big knives in her hand and those eyes were gone as she leaped off and away. A bolt of light flashed from an eyestalk at one of the still gunning hunters. He disappeared in an instant crispy blaze that caused an explosion of ash.
Quinn by that time had recovered, and made her own dent in the beholder's world with a long knife. Another tentacle went flying, the blast that had been forming on it fading away even as it fell.
Brittany did a handspring, scooping their uncle away from one of the random blasts before he could even react and then flowing into the battle, which started speeding up faster and faster as the creature was whittled away.
As the last eye was punctured, a blaze of light filled the maw of the creature's mouth, which had been finally revealed. A wave of energy flooded the room and the people in it as the monster lost its shape and just disappeared into the light.
Glancing around at the suddenly bright room, filled with treasure, other kinds of loot and very expensive furniture, Santana said, "Well, at least it had taste."
"That's what you got out of this?" Rachel reproved.
Santana shrugged and pulled Brittany into a one-armed embrace. "A girl's gotta have priorities."