Disclaimer thingie: Marvel owns the X-Men and all of their relatives. BBC/Lionheart own Doctor Who and Ms. Sam-Jones. Highlander is, iirc, owned by Rysher Entertainment. Buffy is owned by Joss Whedon (all hail the Master) and Fox/WB. X-Files is owned by Chris Carter, Gargoyles by Disney. (I think that covers--oh.) And, Anita Blake and Edward belong to Laurell K. Hamilton. Well, not my versions, but...
Marya, OTOH, belongs to me. And, in the words of Jim Smith, "If I discover any of you jabronis using Marya, I will take your little fanfic, spellcheck it real nice, save it in .txt format, turn that sumbitch sideways, and stick it STRAIGHT UP YOUR CANDY-ASS!"
PG13/R for swearing and some nastiness.
Dedication: To Lynxie, because she's half-co-plotter, or something. And because she wouldn't let me stop writing -.- To Acetal for betaing this monster, it ain't over yet, bub. To KayJay and Mitai and Alicia for the origin of the crazy idea. And to Tapestry for helping Lynxie kick me and get it finished. Well, as finished as it ever is. I refuse to write 500 chapters.
The Rise and Fall of the House of DeZorga
Chapter Eight: That's Life and I'm Panicked
by Suzy DeZorga
The kitchen was actually deserted, this early in the morning. Since the sun was barely up, I knew people would be in soon enough. Hopefully, Dom and Nate would be among the first. I knew Dom hated mornings as much as I did, but she'd long ago resigned herself to being up with Nate when HE got up and consumed mass quantities of coffee.
Coffee. That sounded like a very good idea. So good that I started making it. I found myself investigating several cupboards in the kitchen before I finally found the filters right below the coffee maker. And the coffee in the refridgerator. That was fine, I was feeling domestic.
Along the way, I'd discovered the mugs and bowls. A drawer held silverware, and I was home free.
Most mercenaries have an instinct for when that first pot is being made. Dom was no different. Neither was Nate, but he wasn't the one who sauntered into the kitchen as I was pouring my first cup. "Mornin' Dom."
"Dez."
As she poured her own cup, I leaned against the counter and pondered how best to ask.
"Dez, just spit it out."
"I never spit," I said indignantly.
She snickered. "You're dancing around the issue, Dez. Talk."
"Buffy's gone missing." I stared into my coffee, wishing I could conjure the Slayer from its depths.
"When?"
"Last night."
Dom was silent for a moment. "How many people will you need?"
"Not sure." I sighed. "I had some rather visual nightmares this morning. I'm terrified they apply to her."
"Oh?" Her eyebrow arched at me.
"Blood, lots of death, children." I frowned. "Fire, too. Vamps are frightened of fire, though."
"Vamps?"
I coughed and sipped my coffee, embarrassed. Most didn't know about vampires, most people wanted to believe they didn't exist. Most people did not spend half their lives destroying vampires, demons and their ilk. Hell, I imagine even the vaunted X-Men would run screaming if they ever encountered a spider demon or a vampire.
"Um, vampires." I waited for the inevitable 'Vampires don't exist' comment.
It never came. "We have until sundown, then?"
"Yeah," I sighed, glad she wasn't going to question me sanity. "I think so, anyway. There might be a specific reason they took her. Some ritual requiring Slayer blood." I frowned. "It couldn't be tied into the Solstice, that's already passed."
"New Year's? The New Millennium?" Dom snorted. "Or just an old-fashioned blood ritual?"
"Yes." My brain tried to process this date for any special mystic things. And there weren't any. "I'm calling a friend..."
"And who do you want me to wake up?"
"Betsy? Rave, Maddie..." My phone rang, interrupting the list. "DeZorga."
"Why the hell didn't you tell me what was in that warehouse?"
The tense and very European sounding voice startled me. I blinked. "Connor?"
"You've been asleep all day," he guessed, sounding suddenly weary. "Turn on your local news feeds." The phone went dead.
I stared at the phone, then looked at Dom. "What have I missed while sleeping?"
She shrugged. "We took out a government-owned factory. The press are having a field day. And, no, they don't know what was there."
"Shit."
Government-owned meant they'd KNOWN what was there. Maybe not everyone, but..."Dom, I'll have to make some calls later." Right now, the first priority was finding Buffy. "Can you...Get everyone in the Mansion you trust and who *doesn't* hate me in here in about an hour?"
"Dez, I'm not your messenger."
"Please?"
"Sure, sure..." She rolled her eyes and left the kitchen. "The things I do..."
I sighed and began dialing.
---
The first time I met Connor, he was a heathen-looking young man, all brash and brawny, ready to do battle with everyone. Of course, I'd met Ramirez first.
My first death came at about age 22. I was still quite young, at least. I'd been in Guinevere's court for a while, training with the guards (much to many people's horror.) We were invaded by a small group of very voracious bandits.
I managed to kill quite a few of them, then one of my own guards stumbled into me, and I was gutted by my next opponent before I could recover.
I'm told the ceremony was quite lovely. All pomp and circumstance and the Queen crying over me. The last makes me laugh my ass off, since Guin and I merely tolerated each other. Her crying was probably disguised happiness that I was finally gone.
When I awoke, it was with a suddenness that brought pain to every inch of me and forced me to gasp for breath in a very unladylike way. At the time, I was trying to perfect that most beloved thing, so I was a bit upset.
They had lain me out in an ante-chamber, in preparation to burying me in the chapel cemetary. I wasn't rich enough, or well-known enough, to rate a place in the crypt. Good thing, too. Hate to think what would have happened if I'd been locked in there.
I know I scared the guard out on the Keep out of his wits. Not that he had much of them. I was glad I ran into no others on my way to my quarters. I knew something was terribly wrong, especially when I walked in to find one of Guin's other ladies occupying my rooms.
She screamed, I smacked her across the face, accidentally knocking her into the wall. It was definitely an "Oops." moment.
Alianora had been using my things, so I packed a few, grabbed my boots--which were still there, oddly--and hustled down to the armoury, where I found my usual sword and grabbed a few extra daggers. I slipped out of the castle the same way I'd entered it nearly five years before. By the servants' entrance.
I spent the next week relearning how to live on the road, and detesting it mightily. And then I felt it. It was like when I'd first felt a multitude of other people's minds. Meggan had helped me build my shields, and she'd also forced me to build them while open to everything.
Which basically means, I felt like someone was inside my head, beating me.
And, of course, thanks to Fate, this was the moment a man burst from the trees and challenged me.
"I am Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez, en garde." He said.
"Um..." I pulled my sword and fought the pain in my head down to a bearable level. "I'm Marya Louisa Susanna DeZorga, once one of the Queen's Ladies."
"But you died. And you will again." His lips smiled at me and then he drove in.
We fought for a good long while, our swords clashing on each other, sometimes catching. He was good. Better than I was, at the time. After a good fifteen minutes of tussling, he disarmed me and prepared to give me the coup de grace.
I really wasn't in the mood to die again so soon, so I shrugged and slammed a TK tendril at the sword, batting it away. "Could you maybe point that somewhere else? I'm really not in the mood to be beheaded."
He blinked. "You're very young, for an Immortal, I might almost believe..." His voice trailed off and he studied me. "You're newly Immortal, aren't you?"
"Um...Yeah? That is, I guess I would be--if I knew what the hell an Immortal was." I hadn't missed the capital I in that word.
"An Immortal is what we are." He looked me up and down and seemed to come to a conclusion. "And it seems I am sent to teach such a beautiful woman."
I sighed. "None of your Spanish coin, m'dear."
He snorted, but explained it. How we were destined to fight each other to the last--there can be only one, apparently. And then he taught me everything he knew about sword-play. And a few other things.
We parted company good friends, if not allies. We had been lovers. We wouldn't be again.
In the early sixteen hundreds, I was a bar maid in lower Sussex. It was sort of boring, sort of not. The vampire population kept me on my toes, though, so it was good.
One night as I was patrolling, I felt another Immortal. I challenged him, he accepted. And we fought. I disarmed him and was preparing to finish him when I froze. His sword had fallen into a patch of moonlight. It glittered up at me, taunting, reminding.
"Ram..." My voice choked. I'd known he would die, eventually. He wasn't me, he didn't have Immortality and sheer bitchiness built into his framework. He was also an honourable man--and several would take advantage of that. "Where did you get that sword?"
He looked up at me, glaring down at him in the darkness, sword poised to chop his head off. "You're going to kill me, anyway."
I swore and pulled back the sword, then stopped and sheathed it. "You're wrong." I bent over and picked up Ramirez' sword. "Where did you get this?" I whipped around and glared at him. "And don't lie."
"My teacher," he replied hollowly.
"Funny, when he finished teaching me I didn't kill him." I laughed bitterly. "Times have changed, I see."
"I didn't kill him."
"Oh, no? Then why do you have his sword?" I turned it over, memories long dormant springing back. Of Ram laughing with me, loving with me, cheering me on as I fought my first battle. Holding me after my first Quickening.
"He died. He was my teacher, and I accepted his death and his sword." Ragged emotion suddenly showed in his voice.
"Who killed him?"
"The Kurgan."
I stiffened. I'd heard of the Kurgan. The Watcher's Council--Slayer, not Immortal--knew of him and considered him part-demon. He'd killed three Slayers in recent history. Which meant... "When?"
He looked at me dully, then stood. "Not that long ago."
"Where?" My last question was a whisper.
"Scotland."
"Thank you." I handed him the sword back, hilt first. "If we meet again, I'll try not to kill you."
"Thank you," he said dryly.
I shrugged. "Goodbye, Connor McLeod of the Clan McLeod."
"Until we meet again, Marya Susanna DeZorga."
Four years later, I finally tracked the Kurgan to Russia where he was ruling a small duchy with an iron hand. And much death, destruction and mutilation.
"Hello."
"Well, aren't we the enterprising one." He smirked as he looked at me.
"Nah, more luck than anything."
"You've come to challenge me, have you?" The sword he held in his hands was nearly five feet long. Almost as tall as I was.
"No."
"Really?" He looked surprised for a moment. "I'm shocked, that's usually what you peasants try to do."
"Actually," I pulled my sword, inspecting the blade for lint, "I've come to kill you."
The fight went on for fifteen minutes, the guards in his throne room watching us impassively. Strike, parry, counter, dodge, backflip and then drive back in, trying for an advantage. Neither of us had the upper hand, though we both got in slices and hits.
We were evenly matched, to his surprise. And he was over-confident that I'd tire sooner than he. I didn't. I'd made sure to sleep well and meditate all morning. My energy levels were at a peak, and I wasn't going to let him get the best of me.
And then the unthinkable happened--for him, anyway--our swords locked, and I heaved, sending his flipping into the far corners of the room.
For an instant, he was startled, then moving back, away from me. "Oh, no you don't, asshole."
"I will not die by your hand, Immortal bitch."
"Not Immortal," I corrected, snapping a foot into his groin. "Slayer."
He froze in shock, his eyes widening as he ignored the pain in his groin. It was the same facial expression that stayed on his head as it fell to the floor, severed.
Silence fell in the room. My arms prickled, and I knew this wasn't going to be a fun Quickening. The guards started forward, and I whirled, blasting a TK shot at them. "GET OUT!"
They ran, shocked and frightened, as lightning and energy began filling the room. My body buckled, and I fell, hitting the ground, screaming as pain ripped through me. The Kurgan had been one of the strongest, powerful and evil.
His psyche attempted to overwhelm me as the power poured through me. I fought back, pulling deep from my center, where the Askani teachings had flourished and enlightened. And healed, sometimes. The memory traces of Meggan and Sanctity joined me and fought back. The Quickenings of my previous kills helped as well.
And then I felt him. For an instant, all went still, then Ramirez was slipping through me, destroying the evil of the Kurgan and taking his own self with it.
It was over in seconds, and I curled into a ball, weeping softly.
Later, I ran into Connor again--several times, in fact. We even became lovers one wild and memorable weekend in 18th century Paris.
---
"Edward, you bastard, pick up. I know you're there."
A click, then a tired voice, "Yes?"
"Edward, I need a favour."
"Oh, it's you." A sigh. "DeZorga, the last time I did a favour for you, it nearly killed me."
"Yes, I know and I'm sorry about that." I rubbed my hand over my face and sighed. "Look, just do this one thing for me, okay?"
"Oh? What?"
"I need you to get onto Mulder and his partner. Get them interested in finding sentinel factories. Then feed them the news from earlier."
"You mean the government warehouse that you destroyed?"
"Yes, yes." I didn't need to ask how Edward knew that was me. Man was amazing and knew just about everything that went on in New York. "See if you can't get them into exposing the government conspiracy--I know how much Mulder likes that sort of thing."
I heard him sigh and then curse. "You do realise they're already there, don't you?"
"They are? Good." I paused. "Wait a minute, you sound less than pleased about it."
"Mulder is convinced it was aliens."
I groaned. "It wasn't."
"I know that and you know that. I'll try to hint him to exposing the contents." Edward sighed. "The things I do for you, DeZorga."
"Hey, you wouldn't do them if you didn't know I was right." I smiled. "Give Maura a hello for me, will ya?"
"Sure."
"Oh! Edward, what do you know about holy days or celebrations around this time of year?"
He was silent for a moment, then snorted. "DeZorga? Christmas? Christ-child? End of the Century with the 31st? Ring any bells?"
"Thank you, Edward, I do know what today is." I replied dryly. Although, in actuality, I'd forgotten. Sort of.
"Right, then." There was a click and the dial tone rang through.
"Good-bye, Edward," I muttered. "Christmas..."
I snorted. "Great. And I keep forgetting about it."
---
It came to me as I was yelling at an old editor friend in England, that it was still only five in the morning, American time. Which would explain Edward sounding pissy. And Connor, too. Neither of them were morning people.
The call finished pretty quickly, and I dialed California, wincing at the time it would be there. Three hour time difference meant two in the morning, which meant disgruntled Watcher.
I got Giles' machine. "Hey, it's Marya. Giles, I need you to look up old myths surrounding Christmas, New Year's and the Millennium. Oh, and vampire convergences. Thanks." I hung up and dialed another number.
Willow picked it up on the third ring. "H'lo?"
"Will, it's Marya."
"Wha?"
"Marya. Sweetie, when did you go to bed?"
"'rya, it's 2:20 in the morning." Willow was sounding more awake.
"20 minutes ago, then?" I snorted, Will had gotten to bed later than I had. "Dear, grab some coffee."
"You know I--"
"Hate coffee. Tea, then. Will, I need you to cross-reference a bunch of stuff for me. Stuff like the birth of Christ, holy days in December, Vampire myths, the millennium, and, um..."
"You're nuts."
"Buffy was kidnapped this morning by vampires."
"I'm on it." I heard a rustling sound. "Now, what was the list again?"
---
Only I would receive a kidnapped friend for Christmas. Of course, I had to find her, first. Dom was true to her word, and my begging, and had nearly every person in the X-Family gathered in the kitchen by the time an hour had passed. It was six in the morning, and most of them looked very unhappy about it.
"Dez, as requested...." Dom smirked and waved at the large crowd. "Everyone who I think doesn't hate you."
It was easier to say who wasn't there. I blinked. Xavier, Grey, McTaggert and Scott were all getting to sleep in. Lorna was down in the infirmary, recovering. "Well... Um... well...."
As my voice trailed off, someone snickered. Tabitha, my brain identified. The blonde hadn't given me an inch when we met and she still wasn't. Not that I blamed her. I was an unknown. Still... "The reason I had you woken up so early wasn't because it's Christmas. A friend of mine was kidnapped last night--most likely by," I paused and coughed, "vampires."
The best way to get people to believe you is tell the truth. Even if it's more farfetched than Hell. I shuddered. I really hoped Hell wasn't going to be involved. I'd gotten a really nasty sunburn there the last time. And I don't burn, normally. That damned perfect skin, again.
People blinked and then everyone started talking at once. I let them go, formulating what else I needed to say. After all, none of them--save a few--knew Buffy. Just because they were vaunted teams didn't mean they'd immediately care about some girl they'd never met. Cynicism is rife in my world view.
Before everyone had gotten to the point of silence, a group of teenagers entered the kitchen and stopped. The room was large, but with everyone there it was VERY crowded. The kids made it worse. Behind them, I could see a vaguely familiar-looking man and Emma Frost.
"What're all of you doing?" A young girl with an Asian cast to her features stared at us. She turned her brown-eyed gaze to me. "And who are you?"
"Marya DeZorga." I dodged around her and pounced the familiar-looking man. "Sean Cassidy, as I live and breath."
"Ach, Marya!" He blinked at me and returned the hug. "I haven't seen ye in more'n ten years..."
"And, lemme guess, I don't look a day over twenty," I winked.
"Susanna, when was Buffy taken?"
Nate's voice broke my through me attempt to hide behind Sean and I looked at him. "Last night. I'm not sure when." I stepped back to the center of the room and met everyone's eyes "I'm guessing we have until roughly midnight tonight. If I'm right they're going to use her as a sacrifice."
I shuddered. "Slayer blood is incredibly powerful. For all I know, they're--"
My phone rang. "DeZorga."
"There's a full moon tonight, and it's the millennial anniversary of the closing off of the New York Hellmouth."
I staggered and caught myself against a chair. "Will, are you sure?" Precognitive flashes that wreak havoc with your extremities is a wonderful way to look like a spastic.
"Duh." The redheaded witch snorted at me through the phone. "I checked the records on the 'Net and ran a cross-check through some old histories I 'borrowed' from Giles. It's all there."
"Anything else?"
"There was some Legend of Ohmara, which centered around a demon destroying the manger Jesus was born in."
"How...Odd." My eyebrow arched. The Ring of Ohmara was the vampire equivalent of the Holy Grail. Interesting that there would be a legend associated with it. "Talked to Giles yet?"
"Nope. On my way over to kick his butt. He should be doing some of this, too." She sounded a bit annoyed.
"Will? Make sure you corral Xander into helping."
"Got it."
We hung up without goodbyes. An old friend in the midwest had gotten me into that habit and I was passing it on to everyone I knew.
A Hellmouth in New York. That put a whole new spin on things. I glanced up to see Emma watching me intently. "Hey, Emma, I'd forgotten you were roped into a babysitting gig after the coma."
"Susanna...Shut up and explain." The ice-blonde Ms. Emma Frost crossed her arms and glared at me. "Who is Buffy and why would she have been kidnapped?"
"She's--" And that was when I remembered what was niggling at the back of my head. "Limbo," I breathed, my eyes widening in shock.
"What?"
"Well," I said grimly, "what better way to commemorate the Millennium than by opening portals to Limbo and Hell and combining both on Earth?"
End Chapter Eight.
=====
'I stood at the kitchen sink, my radio playing songs like "Tainted Love" and "Love is Strange"...'
__________________________________________________
© 2000 Suzy DeZorga
Marya, OTOH, belongs to me. And, in the words of Jim Smith, "If I discover any of you jabronis using Marya, I will take your little fanfic, spellcheck it real nice, save it in .txt format, turn that sumbitch sideways, and stick it STRAIGHT UP YOUR CANDY-ASS!"
PG13/R for swearing and some nastiness.
Dedication: To Lynxie, because she's half-co-plotter, or something. And because she wouldn't let me stop writing -.- To Acetal for betaing this monster, it ain't over yet, bub. To KayJay and Mitai and Alicia for the origin of the crazy idea. And to Tapestry for helping Lynxie kick me and get it finished. Well, as finished as it ever is. I refuse to write 500 chapters.
The Rise and Fall of the House of DeZorga
Chapter Eight: That's Life and I'm Panicked
by Suzy DeZorga
The kitchen was actually deserted, this early in the morning. Since the sun was barely up, I knew people would be in soon enough. Hopefully, Dom and Nate would be among the first. I knew Dom hated mornings as much as I did, but she'd long ago resigned herself to being up with Nate when HE got up and consumed mass quantities of coffee.
Coffee. That sounded like a very good idea. So good that I started making it. I found myself investigating several cupboards in the kitchen before I finally found the filters right below the coffee maker. And the coffee in the refridgerator. That was fine, I was feeling domestic.
Along the way, I'd discovered the mugs and bowls. A drawer held silverware, and I was home free.
Most mercenaries have an instinct for when that first pot is being made. Dom was no different. Neither was Nate, but he wasn't the one who sauntered into the kitchen as I was pouring my first cup. "Mornin' Dom."
"Dez."
As she poured her own cup, I leaned against the counter and pondered how best to ask.
"Dez, just spit it out."
"I never spit," I said indignantly.
She snickered. "You're dancing around the issue, Dez. Talk."
"Buffy's gone missing." I stared into my coffee, wishing I could conjure the Slayer from its depths.
"When?"
"Last night."
Dom was silent for a moment. "How many people will you need?"
"Not sure." I sighed. "I had some rather visual nightmares this morning. I'm terrified they apply to her."
"Oh?" Her eyebrow arched at me.
"Blood, lots of death, children." I frowned. "Fire, too. Vamps are frightened of fire, though."
"Vamps?"
I coughed and sipped my coffee, embarrassed. Most didn't know about vampires, most people wanted to believe they didn't exist. Most people did not spend half their lives destroying vampires, demons and their ilk. Hell, I imagine even the vaunted X-Men would run screaming if they ever encountered a spider demon or a vampire.
"Um, vampires." I waited for the inevitable 'Vampires don't exist' comment.
It never came. "We have until sundown, then?"
"Yeah," I sighed, glad she wasn't going to question me sanity. "I think so, anyway. There might be a specific reason they took her. Some ritual requiring Slayer blood." I frowned. "It couldn't be tied into the Solstice, that's already passed."
"New Year's? The New Millennium?" Dom snorted. "Or just an old-fashioned blood ritual?"
"Yes." My brain tried to process this date for any special mystic things. And there weren't any. "I'm calling a friend..."
"And who do you want me to wake up?"
"Betsy? Rave, Maddie..." My phone rang, interrupting the list. "DeZorga."
"Why the hell didn't you tell me what was in that warehouse?"
The tense and very European sounding voice startled me. I blinked. "Connor?"
"You've been asleep all day," he guessed, sounding suddenly weary. "Turn on your local news feeds." The phone went dead.
I stared at the phone, then looked at Dom. "What have I missed while sleeping?"
She shrugged. "We took out a government-owned factory. The press are having a field day. And, no, they don't know what was there."
"Shit."
Government-owned meant they'd KNOWN what was there. Maybe not everyone, but..."Dom, I'll have to make some calls later." Right now, the first priority was finding Buffy. "Can you...Get everyone in the Mansion you trust and who *doesn't* hate me in here in about an hour?"
"Dez, I'm not your messenger."
"Please?"
"Sure, sure..." She rolled her eyes and left the kitchen. "The things I do..."
I sighed and began dialing.
---
The first time I met Connor, he was a heathen-looking young man, all brash and brawny, ready to do battle with everyone. Of course, I'd met Ramirez first.
My first death came at about age 22. I was still quite young, at least. I'd been in Guinevere's court for a while, training with the guards (much to many people's horror.) We were invaded by a small group of very voracious bandits.
I managed to kill quite a few of them, then one of my own guards stumbled into me, and I was gutted by my next opponent before I could recover.
I'm told the ceremony was quite lovely. All pomp and circumstance and the Queen crying over me. The last makes me laugh my ass off, since Guin and I merely tolerated each other. Her crying was probably disguised happiness that I was finally gone.
When I awoke, it was with a suddenness that brought pain to every inch of me and forced me to gasp for breath in a very unladylike way. At the time, I was trying to perfect that most beloved thing, so I was a bit upset.
They had lain me out in an ante-chamber, in preparation to burying me in the chapel cemetary. I wasn't rich enough, or well-known enough, to rate a place in the crypt. Good thing, too. Hate to think what would have happened if I'd been locked in there.
I know I scared the guard out on the Keep out of his wits. Not that he had much of them. I was glad I ran into no others on my way to my quarters. I knew something was terribly wrong, especially when I walked in to find one of Guin's other ladies occupying my rooms.
She screamed, I smacked her across the face, accidentally knocking her into the wall. It was definitely an "Oops." moment.
Alianora had been using my things, so I packed a few, grabbed my boots--which were still there, oddly--and hustled down to the armoury, where I found my usual sword and grabbed a few extra daggers. I slipped out of the castle the same way I'd entered it nearly five years before. By the servants' entrance.
I spent the next week relearning how to live on the road, and detesting it mightily. And then I felt it. It was like when I'd first felt a multitude of other people's minds. Meggan had helped me build my shields, and she'd also forced me to build them while open to everything.
Which basically means, I felt like someone was inside my head, beating me.
And, of course, thanks to Fate, this was the moment a man burst from the trees and challenged me.
"I am Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez, en garde." He said.
"Um..." I pulled my sword and fought the pain in my head down to a bearable level. "I'm Marya Louisa Susanna DeZorga, once one of the Queen's Ladies."
"But you died. And you will again." His lips smiled at me and then he drove in.
We fought for a good long while, our swords clashing on each other, sometimes catching. He was good. Better than I was, at the time. After a good fifteen minutes of tussling, he disarmed me and prepared to give me the coup de grace.
I really wasn't in the mood to die again so soon, so I shrugged and slammed a TK tendril at the sword, batting it away. "Could you maybe point that somewhere else? I'm really not in the mood to be beheaded."
He blinked. "You're very young, for an Immortal, I might almost believe..." His voice trailed off and he studied me. "You're newly Immortal, aren't you?"
"Um...Yeah? That is, I guess I would be--if I knew what the hell an Immortal was." I hadn't missed the capital I in that word.
"An Immortal is what we are." He looked me up and down and seemed to come to a conclusion. "And it seems I am sent to teach such a beautiful woman."
I sighed. "None of your Spanish coin, m'dear."
He snorted, but explained it. How we were destined to fight each other to the last--there can be only one, apparently. And then he taught me everything he knew about sword-play. And a few other things.
We parted company good friends, if not allies. We had been lovers. We wouldn't be again.
In the early sixteen hundreds, I was a bar maid in lower Sussex. It was sort of boring, sort of not. The vampire population kept me on my toes, though, so it was good.
One night as I was patrolling, I felt another Immortal. I challenged him, he accepted. And we fought. I disarmed him and was preparing to finish him when I froze. His sword had fallen into a patch of moonlight. It glittered up at me, taunting, reminding.
"Ram..." My voice choked. I'd known he would die, eventually. He wasn't me, he didn't have Immortality and sheer bitchiness built into his framework. He was also an honourable man--and several would take advantage of that. "Where did you get that sword?"
He looked up at me, glaring down at him in the darkness, sword poised to chop his head off. "You're going to kill me, anyway."
I swore and pulled back the sword, then stopped and sheathed it. "You're wrong." I bent over and picked up Ramirez' sword. "Where did you get this?" I whipped around and glared at him. "And don't lie."
"My teacher," he replied hollowly.
"Funny, when he finished teaching me I didn't kill him." I laughed bitterly. "Times have changed, I see."
"I didn't kill him."
"Oh, no? Then why do you have his sword?" I turned it over, memories long dormant springing back. Of Ram laughing with me, loving with me, cheering me on as I fought my first battle. Holding me after my first Quickening.
"He died. He was my teacher, and I accepted his death and his sword." Ragged emotion suddenly showed in his voice.
"Who killed him?"
"The Kurgan."
I stiffened. I'd heard of the Kurgan. The Watcher's Council--Slayer, not Immortal--knew of him and considered him part-demon. He'd killed three Slayers in recent history. Which meant... "When?"
He looked at me dully, then stood. "Not that long ago."
"Where?" My last question was a whisper.
"Scotland."
"Thank you." I handed him the sword back, hilt first. "If we meet again, I'll try not to kill you."
"Thank you," he said dryly.
I shrugged. "Goodbye, Connor McLeod of the Clan McLeod."
"Until we meet again, Marya Susanna DeZorga."
Four years later, I finally tracked the Kurgan to Russia where he was ruling a small duchy with an iron hand. And much death, destruction and mutilation.
"Hello."
"Well, aren't we the enterprising one." He smirked as he looked at me.
"Nah, more luck than anything."
"You've come to challenge me, have you?" The sword he held in his hands was nearly five feet long. Almost as tall as I was.
"No."
"Really?" He looked surprised for a moment. "I'm shocked, that's usually what you peasants try to do."
"Actually," I pulled my sword, inspecting the blade for lint, "I've come to kill you."
The fight went on for fifteen minutes, the guards in his throne room watching us impassively. Strike, parry, counter, dodge, backflip and then drive back in, trying for an advantage. Neither of us had the upper hand, though we both got in slices and hits.
We were evenly matched, to his surprise. And he was over-confident that I'd tire sooner than he. I didn't. I'd made sure to sleep well and meditate all morning. My energy levels were at a peak, and I wasn't going to let him get the best of me.
And then the unthinkable happened--for him, anyway--our swords locked, and I heaved, sending his flipping into the far corners of the room.
For an instant, he was startled, then moving back, away from me. "Oh, no you don't, asshole."
"I will not die by your hand, Immortal bitch."
"Not Immortal," I corrected, snapping a foot into his groin. "Slayer."
He froze in shock, his eyes widening as he ignored the pain in his groin. It was the same facial expression that stayed on his head as it fell to the floor, severed.
Silence fell in the room. My arms prickled, and I knew this wasn't going to be a fun Quickening. The guards started forward, and I whirled, blasting a TK shot at them. "GET OUT!"
They ran, shocked and frightened, as lightning and energy began filling the room. My body buckled, and I fell, hitting the ground, screaming as pain ripped through me. The Kurgan had been one of the strongest, powerful and evil.
His psyche attempted to overwhelm me as the power poured through me. I fought back, pulling deep from my center, where the Askani teachings had flourished and enlightened. And healed, sometimes. The memory traces of Meggan and Sanctity joined me and fought back. The Quickenings of my previous kills helped as well.
And then I felt him. For an instant, all went still, then Ramirez was slipping through me, destroying the evil of the Kurgan and taking his own self with it.
It was over in seconds, and I curled into a ball, weeping softly.
Later, I ran into Connor again--several times, in fact. We even became lovers one wild and memorable weekend in 18th century Paris.
---
"Edward, you bastard, pick up. I know you're there."
A click, then a tired voice, "Yes?"
"Edward, I need a favour."
"Oh, it's you." A sigh. "DeZorga, the last time I did a favour for you, it nearly killed me."
"Yes, I know and I'm sorry about that." I rubbed my hand over my face and sighed. "Look, just do this one thing for me, okay?"
"Oh? What?"
"I need you to get onto Mulder and his partner. Get them interested in finding sentinel factories. Then feed them the news from earlier."
"You mean the government warehouse that you destroyed?"
"Yes, yes." I didn't need to ask how Edward knew that was me. Man was amazing and knew just about everything that went on in New York. "See if you can't get them into exposing the government conspiracy--I know how much Mulder likes that sort of thing."
I heard him sigh and then curse. "You do realise they're already there, don't you?"
"They are? Good." I paused. "Wait a minute, you sound less than pleased about it."
"Mulder is convinced it was aliens."
I groaned. "It wasn't."
"I know that and you know that. I'll try to hint him to exposing the contents." Edward sighed. "The things I do for you, DeZorga."
"Hey, you wouldn't do them if you didn't know I was right." I smiled. "Give Maura a hello for me, will ya?"
"Sure."
"Oh! Edward, what do you know about holy days or celebrations around this time of year?"
He was silent for a moment, then snorted. "DeZorga? Christmas? Christ-child? End of the Century with the 31st? Ring any bells?"
"Thank you, Edward, I do know what today is." I replied dryly. Although, in actuality, I'd forgotten. Sort of.
"Right, then." There was a click and the dial tone rang through.
"Good-bye, Edward," I muttered. "Christmas..."
I snorted. "Great. And I keep forgetting about it."
---
It came to me as I was yelling at an old editor friend in England, that it was still only five in the morning, American time. Which would explain Edward sounding pissy. And Connor, too. Neither of them were morning people.
The call finished pretty quickly, and I dialed California, wincing at the time it would be there. Three hour time difference meant two in the morning, which meant disgruntled Watcher.
I got Giles' machine. "Hey, it's Marya. Giles, I need you to look up old myths surrounding Christmas, New Year's and the Millennium. Oh, and vampire convergences. Thanks." I hung up and dialed another number.
Willow picked it up on the third ring. "H'lo?"
"Will, it's Marya."
"Wha?"
"Marya. Sweetie, when did you go to bed?"
"'rya, it's 2:20 in the morning." Willow was sounding more awake.
"20 minutes ago, then?" I snorted, Will had gotten to bed later than I had. "Dear, grab some coffee."
"You know I--"
"Hate coffee. Tea, then. Will, I need you to cross-reference a bunch of stuff for me. Stuff like the birth of Christ, holy days in December, Vampire myths, the millennium, and, um..."
"You're nuts."
"Buffy was kidnapped this morning by vampires."
"I'm on it." I heard a rustling sound. "Now, what was the list again?"
---
Only I would receive a kidnapped friend for Christmas. Of course, I had to find her, first. Dom was true to her word, and my begging, and had nearly every person in the X-Family gathered in the kitchen by the time an hour had passed. It was six in the morning, and most of them looked very unhappy about it.
"Dez, as requested...." Dom smirked and waved at the large crowd. "Everyone who I think doesn't hate you."
It was easier to say who wasn't there. I blinked. Xavier, Grey, McTaggert and Scott were all getting to sleep in. Lorna was down in the infirmary, recovering. "Well... Um... well...."
As my voice trailed off, someone snickered. Tabitha, my brain identified. The blonde hadn't given me an inch when we met and she still wasn't. Not that I blamed her. I was an unknown. Still... "The reason I had you woken up so early wasn't because it's Christmas. A friend of mine was kidnapped last night--most likely by," I paused and coughed, "vampires."
The best way to get people to believe you is tell the truth. Even if it's more farfetched than Hell. I shuddered. I really hoped Hell wasn't going to be involved. I'd gotten a really nasty sunburn there the last time. And I don't burn, normally. That damned perfect skin, again.
People blinked and then everyone started talking at once. I let them go, formulating what else I needed to say. After all, none of them--save a few--knew Buffy. Just because they were vaunted teams didn't mean they'd immediately care about some girl they'd never met. Cynicism is rife in my world view.
Before everyone had gotten to the point of silence, a group of teenagers entered the kitchen and stopped. The room was large, but with everyone there it was VERY crowded. The kids made it worse. Behind them, I could see a vaguely familiar-looking man and Emma Frost.
"What're all of you doing?" A young girl with an Asian cast to her features stared at us. She turned her brown-eyed gaze to me. "And who are you?"
"Marya DeZorga." I dodged around her and pounced the familiar-looking man. "Sean Cassidy, as I live and breath."
"Ach, Marya!" He blinked at me and returned the hug. "I haven't seen ye in more'n ten years..."
"And, lemme guess, I don't look a day over twenty," I winked.
"Susanna, when was Buffy taken?"
Nate's voice broke my through me attempt to hide behind Sean and I looked at him. "Last night. I'm not sure when." I stepped back to the center of the room and met everyone's eyes "I'm guessing we have until roughly midnight tonight. If I'm right they're going to use her as a sacrifice."
I shuddered. "Slayer blood is incredibly powerful. For all I know, they're--"
My phone rang. "DeZorga."
"There's a full moon tonight, and it's the millennial anniversary of the closing off of the New York Hellmouth."
I staggered and caught myself against a chair. "Will, are you sure?" Precognitive flashes that wreak havoc with your extremities is a wonderful way to look like a spastic.
"Duh." The redheaded witch snorted at me through the phone. "I checked the records on the 'Net and ran a cross-check through some old histories I 'borrowed' from Giles. It's all there."
"Anything else?"
"There was some Legend of Ohmara, which centered around a demon destroying the manger Jesus was born in."
"How...Odd." My eyebrow arched. The Ring of Ohmara was the vampire equivalent of the Holy Grail. Interesting that there would be a legend associated with it. "Talked to Giles yet?"
"Nope. On my way over to kick his butt. He should be doing some of this, too." She sounded a bit annoyed.
"Will? Make sure you corral Xander into helping."
"Got it."
We hung up without goodbyes. An old friend in the midwest had gotten me into that habit and I was passing it on to everyone I knew.
A Hellmouth in New York. That put a whole new spin on things. I glanced up to see Emma watching me intently. "Hey, Emma, I'd forgotten you were roped into a babysitting gig after the coma."
"Susanna...Shut up and explain." The ice-blonde Ms. Emma Frost crossed her arms and glared at me. "Who is Buffy and why would she have been kidnapped?"
"She's--" And that was when I remembered what was niggling at the back of my head. "Limbo," I breathed, my eyes widening in shock.
"What?"
"Well," I said grimly, "what better way to commemorate the Millennium than by opening portals to Limbo and Hell and combining both on Earth?"
End Chapter Eight.
=====
'I stood at the kitchen sink, my radio playing songs like "Tainted Love" and "Love is Strange"...'
__________________________________________________
© 2000 Suzy DeZorga