(11/15/2016) So I went hunting for more fanfic to read. I was trying to avoid Wincest, which led me to Destiel, which led to what has got to be the weirdest trope I've ever heard of. Mpreg. Just… what. Why.
Thank you RHatch89 and thedarkpokemaster for the reviews! And turkey feathers for all you favoriters and followers!
After what felt like the hundredth non-du Lac crypt, Bela got bored. "You know," she commented, "for being a Winchester you're quite petite."
"Maybe because I'm a Summers," Buffy replied.
"Oh. Half-sister then?"
"Yup."
"Interesting."
"I guess."
"So is it on the mother's side or the father's?"
"Why the hell are you trying to figure out our family tree?" Dean demanded.
"I was just making friendly conversation," Bela replied with a smirk. "You do know how to do that, right? Have a conversation?"
"Yeah, just not with thieving bitches like you."
"Oh, ouch. That hurts, here, right in my perfect bosom."
"So you're really a thief?" Buffy asked suspiciously.
"I'm a procurer of rare and powerful supernatural artifacts for a select clientele. It's just unfortunate that many of these items are, shall we say, under lock and key."
"So… a thief."
"No, an expert thief."
"And that's how you make a living."
"Not a role model, Buffy," Sam warned.
"What?" Bela wondered innocently. "You don't want your sister to have a fabulous condominium in Manhattan with closets that are absolutely full to bursting with expensive clothing?"
Buffy turned wide eyes towards Sam. He frowned down at her. "No."
"But—" she objected.
"No."
"Hey," Dean whispered as he clicked off his light. "I thought I heard something."
The rest of them mirrored his actions and hid themselves behind gravestones. A twig snapped in the cold night air. They were all reaching for their various weapons when a man called out, "Buffy?"
With a sigh that was part relief and part joy, Buffy stood up and responded, "Over here!" She turned her flashlight back on and said to the others, "It's Angel."
As Dean glowered and Sam rolled his eyes, Angel and Buffy met together for a swift hug and kiss a few tombstones away. Bela's eyebrows lifted as the couple privately conversed. "Isn't that—"
"Yes," Dean growled.
"But isn't he a—"
"Yes."
"So why—"
"Long story," Sam inserted.
"Well don't you two draw in the most fascinating people."
The pair moved towards them, thankfully without further public displays of affection. Dean and Angel eyed one another, the former with deep distrust and the latter with a mixture of pity and apprehension. While Sam had bonded at least a bit with Angel during the Master's escape, Dean's had only the violent encounter with Darla and outside vampiric encounters to form his opinion of his sister's paramour. Until the vampire could prove otherwise he was a threat, one that Dean wouldn't hesitate to dust if given the proper incentive.
At seeing the look in Buffy's eldest brother's eyes, Angel positioned himself as far from the man as possible. "Buffy tells me you're looking for the du Lac family crypt," he said calmly.
"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "Do you know where it is?"
"Yes, I'll lead you to it." The vampire peered at Bela. "Who's this?"
Dean announced the woman's name. "Just keep an eye on your wallet."
"That's called petty theft, darling," Bela told him, "and I am far too wealthy to stoop to such a thing." She held up a leather billfold. "Although sometimes they have such interesting contents. The condom in here is expired, by the way."
An irritated Dean snatched it away. "Keep your hands off my ass."
"Just trying to be helpful."
"Let's go," Angel suddenly announced and, with Buffy beside him, began walking deeper into the cemetery. Dean armed the crossbow and pointed it at Bela.
"What's that for?" she asked irritably.
"Age before beauty," he declared and used the bolt to point her forward.
As they walked, Angel glanced down at Buffy in concern. "Have you spoken to your brother?" he wondered, careful to pitch his voice so it wouldn't carry.
"Not yet." Buffy looked up at him when he didn't say anything more. "You have extra-broody face." At his sudden reticence she prodded him in the bicep with her machete. "Come on, spit it out."
The vampire sighed. "I knew someone a long time ago who made a deal."
"Like Dean?" she asked warily.
"Yes. A violinist. I heard him once in Venice. The way he played, the music he made… there aren't words. I followed him as he toured so I could listen."
Angel fell silent. Buffy lifted her blade again, intent on poking him as annoyingly as possible, but he continued before she could begin. "We were in Salzburg. He was playing a concerto and dropped his bow in the middle of a cadenza. He ran and I followed him, first by scent then by screams. By the time I found him, he was dead."
Buffy's breath hitched. "Screams?"
The vampire stopped walking, turned, and placed a hand softly on her shoulder. When she stopped, the hand moved to cup her cheek. "He was ripped to shreds. I heard some kind of dog. Buffy, your brother isn't going to go in a peaceful way. He needs you now and Sam will need you later."
She stared at him, her jaw set. "No. He's not going to need me and neither is Sam. You know why? Because we're going to save him."
"Hey!" Dean called from several feet away. "Arm's length between the two of you!"
Buffy stuck her tongue out at her brother and Angel cast him a grimace before resuming the journey to the du Lac crypt. He'd left out several details in his narrative. How he'd found the violinist's instrument placed with excruciating care against a brick wall. How he'd mourned not the loss of the man but the loss of his music. How he'd listened with grinning pleasure to the dying man's shrieks.
Most importantly, Angel left out that he'd actually become the violinist's "friend," or at least the closest approximation to it as the black-souled vampire had been capable of. He'd accompanied the man as he tried to get out of his deal and failed. The musician sought scholars, priests, gypsies, all of whom had shook their heads and had no answers. Angel had even rustled up a real witch and tried to convince her to help. Even when he threatened her with disembowelment, and had actually begun the process, she had nothing.
At some point he would need to talk to Sam and tell him the violinist's story in its entirety so that the younger brother could prepare. Dean was going to die, but if Angel had his way Buffy would be spared the sight of his torn and mangled body once the Hellhounds finally came.
Bela was in the midst of picking the crypt's lock (she complained Sam was too slow and had taken over the task) when the quiet finally broke. From the surrounding darkness came the inhuman growl of several approaching vampires. The humans' flashlights lit upon the monsters as the doors unlocked with a clunk.
"Slayer," a male snarled.
"Soon-to-be dust bunny," Buffy mocked.
"Go," Sam hissed at Bela and Dean. "Get the cross, quick." The pair disappeared into the mausoleum.
They attacked as Sam pushed the door shut behind his brother. He fended off the knife of an incoming creature with his flashlight and withdrew his stake with his spare hand. Another monster took over as soon as her predecessor disintegrated, one more cautious of the hunter's moves. She whacked the stake from his hand and kicked him in the belly. Sam recovered quickly, drew his gun, and began firing.
Buffy dusted the male who'd first spoken (completing her own mini-prophecy) and ducked swiftly under the punch of a second. She swept the new one's legs from underneath him, knelt, and staked him. Another took the opportunity to wrap his arm around her neck.
Angel's face had transformed in the heat of the battle. The surprise of the vampire that he was fighting spoke to the depth of this group's ignorance; apparently they'd been told to ambush the Slayer and her accomplices without being told exactly who those accomplices were. He almost regretted plunging his stake into the other's chest; from personal perspective Angel knew that their viciousness most likely stemmed from their vampirism and not their former personality. Stupidity, however, existed in both states. He then charged over to help Buffy.
Relieved at the patter of dust that fell on her neck, the Slayer gave Angel a grateful look before the both of them were engaged by more foes. Back to back they fought, wordless but in sync, as the seemingly endless stream of enemies continued to flow.
Inside the crypt, Dean and Bela were pounding at a crumbling stone wall with the butt of the crossbow and the back end of a blade. Apparently someone had attempted to recover the relic at some point in the past and had been waylaid; a telltale crack had been left in the mausoleum wall. When a large chunk finally fell away they looked inside the newly made opening. There they beheld the skeletal remains of a du Lac family member, the item they sought laying upon their chest.
"Ladies first," Dean offered.
Bela rolled her eyes and reached into the relatively small opening for the cross. She wrenched it out from underneath the corpse's hands and then more carefully extracted it from the wall. "There. Pretty little thing, isn't it?"
"Little? That thing's huge."
The thief shone her light on the gold and jewels, turning it this way and that to make them sparkle. "You done?" Dean asked irritably.
"It's not my fault you can't admire good craftsmanship," she retorted. The two turned towards the door and stopped short.
Spike dropped the butt of his cigarette and ground it under his boot. "Sorry, love. Decided I couldn't wait."
"What is he—" Dean turned accusing eyes at Bela.
She ignored him. "If I'm handing it over early then I'd like to be paid early."
"Now see that's the thing," said the vampire with a smirk. "I figure you can't collect if you're dead."
Bela quickly dropped the cross as Spike leapt at her, brow ridges warping as he moved. She swung her machete at him, missing by bare inches, while Dean drew his gun from his back and fired.
Bullets cracked into stone as Spike and Bela fought. "Hey!" she cried. "You almost hit me!"
"At this point I don't care!" Dean told her.
The close quarters, made even more confined by the sarcophagus in the middle, hampered the combatants. Eventually Spike's greater years and inhuman abilities turned the tide to his advantage. Recklessly, he used his preternatural agility to leap and kick off of a wall. His foot connected hard under Bela's chin. Her head snapped back and she staggered, blood from a bitten cheek trickling down the corner of her lips. The vampire yanked her into his grasp and moved to put a corner at his back.
Dean aimed his pistol at Spike. "She ain't much of a shield," he clarified.
"Probably not, but I fancy a chat. Aren't you the bloke that was with the Slayer back in Montana?"
"Maybe."
"Saw the giant outside. Where's the old man?"
"Dead."
The two men kept pace with one another as they circled about the tomb, Dean doing his best to lead Spike as far from the door as possible while the vampire leered. "You don't like this girl, I gather," the tow-headed creature commented.
"Not particularly," the hunter replied. He cocked the hammer on his gun.
"Well then. Suppose you won't mind then if I have myself a little snack." With a growl Spike latched onto Bela's neck from behind. She shrieked as he fed, the blood from her shoulder dampening her black blouse.
After a few seconds of hesitation (during which he weighed the pros and cons of letting the thief live), Dean fired a bullet that grazed the vampire's skull. The thing tore away from his meal with a curse. Bela fell to the floor as her assailant palmed the furrow on his head.
Spike spat a chunk of flesh from his mouth and gave the hunter a red grin. Dean grimly noted that the thief's neck and shoulder were now bleeding profusely, the woman's hand doing nothing to stem the flow. Her mouth opened and closed as she begged for help.
"Now you got a problem here, mate," Spike said as he prodded the du Lac cross with his foot, quite clearly unaffected by its proximity. "You could stop me from taking the trinket here or you can save the bint. Your move."
As Spike expected, Dean dropped the gun and rushed over to Bela. The hunter stripped his jacket and flannel to staunch the flow of blood as the vampire pulled out a burlap sack, kicked the cross into the air, and neatly caught the reliquary within. He then strode pompously out of the crypt.
Dean fumbled for his phone to make the emergency call. Bela's eyes had fluttered shut, but the bleeding was slowing down. He quickly informed the responder to their situation before hanging up and sliding his hands under the woman's body.
"You got a lot of explaining to do, bitch," Dean muttered as he carried her outdoors.
The fight had wound down. Combat halted abruptly when Spike emerged from the du Lac crypt and whistled sharply into the air. As much as both Buffy and Sam wanted to pursue the things, the limp body Dean carried from the crypt was of far greater concern. Angel stepped back as the eldest of the three siblings called out, "You two go flag down the ambulance."
"Why both of us?" Sam wondered.
"Because you're a freaking beanpole and she's a girl! One of you is gonna get their attention, so go!"
The siblings exchanged consternated glances and then rushed off. Angel kept his distance from the mouth-watering aroma of the blood seeping from Bela's wound. He forced himself into distraction by peering out into the darkness and watching out for further trouble. "The cross?" he asked.
"Gone," Dean answered. "Bela lied; she was working for that Spike asshat this whole time. You know him?"
"Yes."
Dean rolled his eyes when no further response was made. In the distance he spotted the flashing red and blue of the emergency responders. He turned to ask Angel to help him haul the bitch closer to the road and found empty space.
"Great," he grumbled as he took on the chore of carrying the limp woman by himself.
The EMT rummaged through Bela's coat and found her Gucci wallet with her driver's license and health insurance card. Using the generous wad of cash tucked in its folds stalled the technician's questions of when, where, and how. Having taken a little liking to Bela (which put her at an advantage over the deep loathing her brothers had for the woman), Buffy chose to ride along in the ambulance. Sam and Dean told their sister they'd meet her at the hospital soon.
Once the responders were gone the two brothers headed for their car. Sam took the opportunity to ask what had happened in the crypt. Dean gave an abbreviated, profanity laden explanation as he drove the Impala away from the cemetery.
"So there was something there," Sam said, "but it sure as hell didn't do what she said it would."
"Nope. Vamp walked away without bursting into flames."
"Here's my question then: what does the cross do if it isn't a weapon?"
"Got no clue. Let's call Bobby."
After Sam detailed the conundrum to the elder hunter they drove to the hospital and joined Buffy in the waiting room. The trio explained their presence to the staff by saying that Bela was their friend and she had no close family. The latter was true as far as they knew while the former was a gargantuan lie. If she lived, the only thing that bonded her to them was her knowledge of Spike's plan and whereabouts.
Buffy informed them that she had concocted a large angry dog as the reason for Bela's injury, a fabrication that Dean made out to be a result of his influence and therefore a source of brotherly pride. He further egged on his sister's newfound skill at duplicity by getting her to call her mother and say that Sam and Dean had rescued a woman from being mugged. This precipitated their lengthy stay at the hospital as the stranger was too badly hurt to give them her emergency contacts and they wanted to be certain she was going to be all right.
It turned out that Bela's biggest medical issue was that she'd nearly been exsanguinated; the bite itself hadn't done much damage. They treated her for hypovolemic shock and proceeded to fill her up with precious fluids and dopamine. Being Bela's supposed "rescuers" gave the siblings an edge when it came time to convince the hospital staff to let them visit.
The thief looked at them blearily from her bed, her face wan and her neck and shoulder heavily bandaged. "I didn't know you cared," she croaked.
"Uh, no, we don't," Dean clarified.
Sam narrowed his eyes at the woman. "You're going to tell us what was really going down back there in the cemetery."
"Or what?" Bela responded petulantly.
"Or as soon as you step out of here we let our sister, the Slayer, put you back in."
"Head, shoulders, knees and toes," Buffy sang.
The thief swallowed. "Fine. Looks like he's cheating me out of payment anyways. He hired me to get that cross, said he wanted to avoid the Slayer. And no, before you ask, I have no idea what that bleeding thing does."
"Bobby might have found something out by now," Sam whispered to his siblings. "We should call him as soon as we can."
"Now," an exhausted Bela groaned, "could you all be dears and leave me the fuck alone so I can sleep?"
"When you get better," Buffy said menacingly, "you don't come back. Understood?"
"Sure, darling," the thief replied unconvincingly. She then made a dramatic show of rolling over to her side and yawning.
Sam made the phone call to Bobby as they were walking to the Impala. He placed him on speakerphone as soon as the siblings were away from other people. "You guys are looking into a real nutjob," came the familiar, gruff voice. "Josephus du Lac. Excommunicated from the Vatican."
"What for?" asked Dean as they sat inside the car.
"Apparently this guy thought vampires were God's representatives on Earth. That book of his is basically a manual on babysitting one of those things."
"Book?" Sam wondered, confused. "What book?"
"Whaddya mean 'what book'?" Bobby yelled. "The book that that cross is supposed to translate!"
"Bela didn't say anything about it," Buffy clarified. "She is so getting her kneecaps broken as soon as she gets out of that bed."
"Be that as it may, that thing's got everything that'll heal up one of them sons of bitches, and if I recall you all said that this Spike had some sick girlfriend shacking up with him."
"Drusilla," stated Buffy.
"He's going to cure her," Sam added.
"Well," Dean said, "cross is gone and we don't got any idea where Spike's holed up. Now what?"
"Then best get your asses in gear and find him," Bobby ordered. "Also, I got word that you've got more trouble on the way. Group called the Order of Taraka. All I know about 'em is that they're assassins and they ain't human."
"Awesome," Dean said dryly. "Why the hell are they coming here?"
"They've been hired to kill someone."
"Who?" asked Sam.
"Your little sis there. Buffy."
Author's Note : I based the violinist on Paganini who, like Robert Johnson, was thought to have been made a deal with he devil for his skills. If you're a fellow string player and have ever looked at the nonsense that's Paganini's 24 Caprices you probably think the same.
The Buffyverse info on Josephus du Lac begins and ends with his crypt, cross, and book so I filled in some gaps with my brain juice.
