Chapter 2
~ Unseen Enemies, Unwanted Allies ~
London
Heavy rains pelted the window, as the thunder rolled away in the distance, causing an already tense room to be even more ill-at ease. It was very seldom that a vampire would have the audacity to come to the mansion of the Council in London. It was more seldom that the vampire would be able to sit freely in the lounge an talk with the human inhabitants who considered the mansion home.
Rodney Sheldon died 10 years ago. The day after he died, he remembered waking up, surrounded by darkness. When he tried to move his arms, they were trapped in by his sides. His whole body was surrounded by a very large bag. Rodney began to panic, but his yells didn't last too long, as he was able to bust out of the bag. The re-animated man kicked open the locked door to his storage place, and crawled out. That was the day his new life began.
Today, Rodney Sheldon sat in a chair in the middle of a very large room, surrounded by twelve men and women who would kill him at any other time and place. However, today, they needed to know what he knew. And Rodney planned on cashing in.
"Now, Mr–ah, Sheldon? I want you to sit back, relax, and tell us exactly what you saw," a watcher sitting directly across from him said. He had brown hair, wore glasses, and looked like a regular bookworm. Actually, they all did.
"Well, now…" Rodney began with a smirk, "I cannae say I remember exactly what the bleedin' sod looked like, but maybe, you know, with a little incentive–"
"Your incentive is that you won't be destroyed," the watcher sitting at the end of the circle yelled. "We don't really need you, you know!"
"Now, now, Mr. Brimely, there's no need for that," the head watcher replied. "We want our guest to feel welcomed. I imagine we can part with some cash, and maybe a little extra warm blood for our guest."
Rodney smiled. He knew these guys had te be desperate. "I want 500 gil, and three pints of blood. Then, maybe my memory will be refreshed enough te help ye."
Mr. Brimely shuffled his weight in his seat, obviously not pleased with the turn of events.
"Very well, that will be arranged," the head watcher replied. "Now, you were saying?"
"Yeah, right, so my friend Ian an' I were goin' down te an ol' mate's house te bring in some pints that we got our hands on," Rodney began, after lighting up a cigarette. "I tol' Ian that he should kindly get a move on, and to watch out, 'cause you don' know what clods ye run inta these days on the streets. Well, he's all upset 'cause he jus' wants te get to our friend's and doesn' want to listen te me, never mind my experience on the streets. Well, the ol' twerp fell down. As I turned te try te help him up, tha's when I saw it."
"It?" the head watcher asked. "What exactly was it?"
"Well, the first thing I noticed was an awful stench," Rodney replied. "I mean, I been down inna tunnels under the streets, walking through raw sewage, an' that didnae smell as bad as this guy.'
'When I look up, this sod was standing next te a couple a garbage cans. 'E had a–a brown leather jacket on. It looked kinda funny, though."
"Funny?" one of the women watchers asked as she scribbled notes.
"Yeah, that's right, funny. Kinda like he didn't really know how to wear it. I mean, the collar was all turned out and the sleeves were down pas' his hands."
"What else was he wearing? What color was his hair?"
"Aw right, don't rush me," Rodney continued, insulted. "I was comin' te that part. So the codger was wearing this jacket, and he had on beige slacks. Sorta like khakis, I s'pose. Well, it was like the pants those skinny brats in those GAP ads wear, y'know? He had brown hair, an' blue eyes, an looked somewhere aroun 8 stone or so. Couldn' be sure wit' all the gear he had on."
"Gear?"
"Yeah–um, one of those, um, swords. A large Broadsword of sorts, I suppose. 'Bout three feet long. He also carried a backpack full of stuff."
"So what is it exactly that made you realize he was what you think he was?" Mr. Brimely asked.
"Well, now that was the kicker. Y'see, I was 'bout te go rip his bloody head of–I mean, I was about to tell the bloke to bugger off, but just before I started te go for him I noticed something weird. His–well, his wings."
"Wings?"
"Yeah, I said wings," Rodney answered angrily. "They weren't there at first, an' if I didn't look quick, I might not 'ave seen them at all. He sorta pulled them in his jacket, if you know what I mean."
"Very good, Mr. Sheldon," the head watcher said pleasantly. "Your description will be of great help to us. Is there anything else you wish to add?"
Rodney hung his head a little with shame and anger. "I didn't bloody well do it for you, I did it so you pikes would get it outta here. It's enough problems for a person like me to get aroun' without those–those bastards roamin' aroun' out there. Oh, and don't forget my money!"
"Okay, Mr. Sheldon, you will receive your compensation," the watcher replied. Mr. Brimely will escort you to the door, give you your money, and then you have 30 seconds to get off the premises. If you do not, we will come after you, understood?"
"Yeah, I bloody well got it," Rodney answered.
"Just one thing, if you don't mind, Mr. Standsbury," the female watcher interrupted.
Mr. Standsbury, the head watcher, was shaken a little. "Of course, Ms. Falding, what would you like to ask our guest?"
"Thank you, Mr. Standsbury," Ms. Falding replied. "Mr. Sheldon, why would this 'Angel' be following you, do you think?"
"I–uh, I didnae say he was following me," Rodney replied. "I don't know–maybe he has it hard with vamps?"
"Angels are usually sent with very specific missions," Ms. Falding said. "They don't mess around very much. It had to have a reason for coming after you."
Rodney just stood for a moment, looking around the room. A small amount of moisture began to build up on his forehead.
"Please answer Ms. Falding's question, Mr. Sheldon," Standsbury said.
"Yeah, um, I don't know," Rodney answered. "We was jus' carrying an item fer our boss. Ian had it."
"What was that item?" Falding asked.
"I don' know. Ashbury tol' us not to look."
"Ashbury?" Mr. Standsbury asked. "Stephen Ashbury, otherwise known as 'Fang'?"
"Yeah. That would be him."
"That is enough, Rodney," a voice came from the back of the room. An older gentleman, flanked by a younger, more portly man stood up and walked up next to Mr. Standsbury. "You have done well the last few years, my friend. This information has freed up your debt to us, and you have earned your reward. Please go, now."
Rodney looked around the room at the watchers and quickly exited the room, followed by Mr. Brimely.
"I didn't realize he was one of ours," Mr. Standsbury said, looking up at the older man. "I apologize if I stepped into your department, Mr. Hodges."
"It's okay," Mr. Hodges replied, putting his hand on Standsbury's shoulder. "He owed us for not staking him a few years ago. I had thought we would never hear from him again, but today has certainly been worth it."
"I didn't realize we even employed Vampires," Ms. Falding said, looking up at the older gentleman.
"A little secret we try not to let get out," Mr. Hodges replied. "Now, I believe, Ms. Falding, Angels are your department. It's time to figure out what the hell one is doing in London."
"Of course," Ms. Falding replied.
***
Sunnydale, CA
"So what's the big prob, anyhow?" the young, dark-haired man asked. "C'mon Buffy, we used to crash together and write papers all the time in High School."
"It's just a little different in college, Xand," Buffy replied. "You can't just get by with a one-paper report you copied out of the encyclopedia, anymore."
"Whoa, you mean you actually copied it out of the encyclopedia?" Xander asked. "Why bother with all the extra work, I just ripped the page out and turned it in."
"That explains why I could never find anything on Apricots," the young Red-haired girl interrupted.
"Apricots, Will?" Buffy asked.
"Yeah, well, my Grandma used to insist they were the healthiest things to eat, so she made us all eat apricots all the time," Willow answered. "I was trying to prove her wrong."
"Aw, are you kiddin?" Xander laughed. "Grandma W's peanut-butter-apricot cookies were the best!"
"Yeah, well, you didn't have to eat them all the time," Willow grumbled.
The three were walking down the streets just after dusk, on their way to Xander's apartment. Lately, when it wasn't a love shack for Xander and Anya, Xander's girlfriend, it served as a great getaway place for studying.
"I just don't understand why we have to do all this History stuff," Buffy pouted. "I mean, when in a job interview are they going to ask 'What did the early Francs have in common with early Romans?"
"Well, in your 'other' line of work, you often run across some really, really old people–maybe you could just identify with them more," Willow answered. "You know, sorta like, 'Why hello, Mr. Franc, how are you doing? Let me just explain that I understand you, before I do Slayer-like things to you!'"
"Hey, now, let's not talk about really old people," Xander quivered. "Especially not mummies, or Praying-mantis people–which aren't necessarily old, just icky."
"Wait," Buffy snapped, stopping suddenly on the sidewalk. "Did you hear that?"
Willow and Xander looked around. They obviously didn't hear anything, but they had come to trust Buffy's senses over the years. The Slayer started walking a few steps slowly backward to the row of hedges behind them, then stopped at the hedges.
Xander shook his head and lifted his palms. "What are you doing?" he whispered.'
Buffy reached into the bushes and yanked out a body, slamming it around to the ground. Faster than the eye could follow, she pulled out a stake from an unseen place and started to bring it down.
"Hold, hold it!" the man yelled, putting his arms up to cover his face. "You bleedin' sods, I'm not yuir bloody enemy!"
"Spike!" Buffy yelled, slamming his arms away and standing up. "Oh I am so not in the mood, right now! And let's get one thing straight: You are our enemy!"
Spike pulled himself up slowly, trying not to show the pain from the body-slam, nor the pleasure he received from being pinned "Yeah, well, if I'm your enemy, then why don' you kill me?"
"Because–because–Oh, I don't know why the hell we don't kill you, but now's not a good time!"
"Whatsamatta, petite? Is the big bad too much for you?" Spike mockingly asked.
"Please!" Buffy yelled, starting to stomp off. She stopped, suddenly.
"What?" Spike asked. "You wanting to come back for more?"
"What is that smell?" Buffy asked.
Xander and Willow sniffed the air, both exchanging glances of disgust. "I don't know," Xander replied. "Did the sewers overflow again?"
"What?" Spike asked. "I don't smell any–actually, I do smell something. It's quiet–lovely--actually."
"Ew," Buffy spouted. "You would find it pleasant smelling after sitting in that stinking tomb all day."
"No, really," Spike answered, looking around and sniffing the air. "Something smells good."
Xander walked over to Spike and took in a big smell of the air. "Yup, just as I thought. Dead-Man-Morning Breath."
"Hey, now, it's not me–" Spike started. His words were cut off, though. The ground began to shake violently under the four's feet.
"An Earthquake?" Willow asked, trying to hold on to Buffy. Cracks began to form in the road, and trees fell from to the ground, uprooted. Suddenly, one of the squares of the sidewalk blew out of the ground, into the sky.
"What the bloody hell is going on?" Spike yelled, holding on to Xander, as the two steadied each other.
The next block of concrete blew into the air, as the first slammed back down on the road. The next block after that blew out, and the next, all the way down the sidewalk. The four jumped off the sidewalk, and ducked for cover as the sidewalk squares slammed down, sending debris flying everywhere.
Then, just as quick as the shaking began, it stopped.
Buffy pulled her head up, looking around to make sure Will and Xand were okay.
Xander had a bloody lip from the fall, but otherwise all were okay. Unfortunately, so was Spike.
"That wasn't fun," Willow said.
"And we have the winner for understatement of the year!" Xander remarked.
"Stay down," Buffy said. "There may be aftershocks."
Spike stood up and looked around. "Bloody Earthquakes. Only a real uncivilized country like this could have these soddin'–" Spike's words were again cut off as he was thrown against the wall of a nearby house.
"What the–?" Xander yelled. Then, his head jerked around, like he had been hit, but there was nothing there. Xander's body was lifted, and floated in mid-air, then, he, too was thrown against the wall, where he came to lay against Spike, both out cold.
"What is it?" Willow asked.
"I don't know!" Buffy yelled.
Willow suddenly grabbed at her neck, and her eyes widened. A choke escaped her lips. Buffy turned and watched Willow lift into the air, as well. She was trying to grab at her neck, but it seemed something was in the way.
Buffy leaped forward, throwing her feet at the air in front of Willow. Her left foot kicked something. Hard. But, the only effect it seemed to have was Willow stopped rising.
The Slayer moved quickly, hitting and kicking at the air, trying desperately to try to find a body. Even when she did land a hit, it seemed to have no effect.
Finally, Willow was thrown against the wall, as well. Buffy watched in horror as Willow slammed against the wall and landed on top of Xander.
Buffy looked around, but saw nothing in front of her. Suddenly, her face was hit, and she was knocked down.
She quickly snapped her arms against the ground and yanked her body up to her feet. The Slayer threw two, three punches, but couldn't find the enemy. She tried a strategy Giles had taught her. She went silent and listened, closing her eyes, trying to find any sign of the enemy.
Buffy felt her shirt suddenly yanked, and she, too was raised from the ground. She threw a punch as hard as she could, but it simply glanced off the object, and ended up hurting Buffy more.
"Where is the key?" the object whispered.
Buffy's eyes widened. "What are you? Did she send you?"
"Where is the key?" it repeated.
"Leave us alone!" Willow yelled, now groggily standing and rubbing her head. "I command you to leave us, by the goddess Nathea!"
Willow pulled a bag from her book-bag and threw it at the air in front of Buffy. The bag stopped in mid air, as it hit the object, and fell to the ground. Suddenly, the bag lit on fire, and the fire shot up, swamping the creature. With a scream, the creature dropped Buffy and jumped to the ground, rolling to put it out.
Buffy ran over to the others, picked up Xander, put him over her shoulder, and, grabbing Willow's hand, ran off down the street.
"Hey, wait!" a barely-awake Spike yelled, staggering down the road after them. "Wait up!"
***