"Do you mind if I make a long distance call?" Xander asked he looked around the room.
The old Priest smiled slightly, "Not at all, but may I ask why?"
"I want to call a friend to see if he can figure out what's going on here in town."
"Then by all means," The Priest waved him towards the phone.
Xander picked up the phone and dialed Giles number from memory, watching with some interest as the Priest opened a large wooden truck in the corner.
"Yo, G-Man."
Xander smirked, "Yeah I know, what's your point?"
The priest raised his head at the bantering tone, Obviously a good friend.
"No. Look, I'm here in a town called Terrace Point in Montana... Oh, It's made national news has it? Yeah, well here is what didn't make CNN." Xander launched into a rough description of the demon's, often using words that fell far short of actually being descriptive. "They're a WHAT demon? Oh, ok... well that's different. Oh. That's not good. You sure? Great. No, no... She'd never make it here in time anyway. I'll see what I can do, give you a call in a day or two. Relax G-man, I'll be fine. Ok, cya when I get home. Bye."
Xander put down the phone and sighed.
*****
Giles put down the phone and sighed. Dear God, I thought it was Sunnydale that attracted the vampires and Demons... but perhaps its Xander.
*****
"What is it?" The Priest walked back across the room with a hardwood case in his hands.
Xander bit his lip, digging around in the military duffel bag he had brought in with him, "Sh't Demons... And that's their name. I'm not cursing. Who names these things?"
The Priest chuckled, "I don't know, but perhaps they have a sense of humor?"
"They'd better," Xander replied, pulling a pair of military khaki's from his bag along with a black tee shirt. "or else someone upstairs really likes to mess with our minds."
The Priest shook his head, the small smile still in place. "Here, these may be of some help."
Xander looked up, and took the hardwood case the Priest offered him. He put it down on the small desk he was sitting beside and gently opened the box.
"Holy." Xander whispered reverently.
Inside, nestled in the red felt interior, were two Pearl Handled, Nickle Plated, Colt .45 automatics with three extra clips apiece. Neatly folded into a side compartment was a well worn leather shoulder harness for the two pistols and a box of .45 caliber ammunition.
"Not exactly Holy," The priest shook his head, "Those guns have a long history, on both sides of the line between good and evil."
"They must be worth a fortune," Xander said as he examined the craftsmanship on the weapons.
The Priest snorted, "These are weapons, not collectors' pieces. I retired them a long time ago, and never thought that they would see the light of day or the dark of night again. Now, I see that maybe they have a job to do after all. I give them to you, and trust that you will put them to good use."
Xander nodded slowly, not really trusting his voice, and drew the two weapons from the case. The two Colt's felt molded to his hands, awakening buried memories of the Soldier Spirit as he professionally disassembled the two weapons and, finding them in perfect working order, reassembled them with fast, sure movements.
When he was done he looked up and saw the priest looking at him oddly. "You do that very well for someone your age, I see you have used pistols a lot in your work."
Xander shook his head, "This is the first time I've actually held one in my hands, Father."
The Priests eyes widened, he believed the boy was telling the truth but, it didn't seem possible.
"A couple years ago I decided that it would be a good idea to dress up as a soldier for Halloween. Unfortunately I live in a town where weird sh... stuff happens. An old enemy of one of my friends came to town to play a little prank. He cast a spell that turned everyone into their costumes, I became a Vietnam vet for a night." Xander looked at the two pistols, a little moodily. "I still have the nightmares but, sometimes, I also remember the skills."
The old man shook his head, "You have led a very interesting life for one who's true adventures are only beginning."
Xander smirked, "Don't say that, Padre. I've had a bellyful of adventures, more then enough to last me."
With that last Xander grabbed his clothes, the guns, and the leather harness, and moved into the bathroom to get changed.
"May you live in interesting times," The old Padre smiled sadly, "The Chinese said it well and I fear, Alexander, that you have been cursed as was I."
*****
Xander emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a pair of surplused khaki army pants and a black tee shirt. He was wearing both pistols in their leather shoulder harness, and had stuffed the clips into the large pockets of his pants. He reached into his duffel and pulled out a purple button up shirt and tossed in on loosely, using the baggy shirt to cover the two Colts underneath.
"My friend say's that the Sh't Demons," Xander winced as he said the name, "Are just lackeys. They had to be summoned by someone else."
The Priest nodded slowly, "So we have something more powerful calling the shots?"
"Or someone." Xander said, grimacing. "We could have a local, dabbling with the black side of witchcraft."
The old Priest winced. He didn't want to believe that one of his flock was the cause of the town's troubles. "How will you find out?"
Xander pursed his lips, "I don't know. Depends on whether these things can speak English I guess."
"What now?"
Xander grinned, "Now, I go out and reacquaint myself with a time-honored tradition of demon and vampire hunters."
The old priest smiled hesitantly, "And that would be?"
"I hang around the graveyards and try to look tasty."
*****
Time honored or not the process of 'patrol' according to the book of Buffy was all too often a dull waste of time. That's what Xander found himself up against this time, hours of boredom to be followed, if he got lucky, by a second or two of terror.
It was worse then he expected.
Xander wandered the town, hitting both Graveyards the Priest directed him to in the first hour to no avail. Only two graveyards? Man. I am SO in the wrong town for *this* tactic.
By the end of the night, when the first glimmerings of dawn were first showing on the horizon, Xander was completely and totally demoralized.
"I'm going to need a new tactic." He whispered to himself as he followed the road back to the church, "Slayer patrol methods aside, this isn't working. Maybe you have to be a blonde bombshell, or other petite beauty for this technique."
*****
When he reached the church he noticed the lights were still on in the rectory so he knocked and went in.
Inside the old Priest was seated comfortably in an old chair talking animatedly on the phone.
"Yes, yes. I see... That's very... oh, wait... He's back. Yes, he looks fine. Would you like to speak with him, Mr. Giles? One second... here he is."
The priest grinned at Xander's confusion, "I was curious about these demons, so I hit redial. Interesting man this, Mr. Giles, once knew someone like him myself."
Xander grinned slightly, and accepted the phone. "Hello G-man. No, I'm fine. No, not a bite. The town is dead at night, not undead. Ok, I'll give that a shot this evening, anything else? Well that's good at least. Ok, you get some sleep too. I'll probably check in before I go out. No, don't tell the others, they'd only worry and there isn't anything they can do. K. Talk later. Bye."
Xander laid the phone down, "Well, nothing tonight. But G-Man say's that there's a good chance I can find them tonight if I can figure out where the power center of the caster is. Shouldn't be to hard in a town like this, there can't be many mystical centers of power."
"Where would you look?"
"Giles told me that they usually have certain signs around them. A network of caves with an underground stream might do, or a series of hotsprings..."
The priest shook his head as Xander listed off the things Giles had mentioned.
"Well, they could use a grove of..." Xander trailed off.
"What?"
"Damn it!" Xander cursed, then remembered where he was, "Sorry Father, I just had a Homer Simpson moment. That grove I pulled those kids out of yesterday, that's the place. They were preparing a sacrifice and I busted it up, I should have seen it."
The priest laid his hands on the boy's shoulder, "You see it now. That will have to do, now you must get rested for your work tonight."
Xander nodded reluctantly.
"You may have a bed here, child. It is only a cot but it will do better then your car's backseat."
"Thank you, Father."
*****
It watched as the boy drifted off to sleep. Now was the time. Now or never. It would reveal itself to the boy and cast its lot to the wind. Should the fates, or fortune, smile then the times ahead would be interesting indeed.
Calmly it waited, and when the boy began to dream it slowly slipped inside and began to call.
*****
He ducked under the fire, huddling tight to the ground as the flames scorched the air over his head. He could feel his hair singeing in the heat, and he rapidly patted his head down with his free hand to make certain that there was no actual flames caught. The smell was sickening, a combination oh his scorched hair and the smell of frying flesh that permeated the rest of the room.
He couldn't remember how he had gotten into this mess, his mind kept screaming at him that it couldn't be real. He could feel the heat, see the monster breathing flames, smell the stench. And yet his mind rebelled against it, told him that something was wrong, that something... that his own senses were lying to him.
He ignored his gut, as much as he hated to too, what his eyes were telling him was too dangerous to ignore. He rolled to his feet, pulling a pistol from his hip, and fire at the beast.
"Alexander."
He shook his head, trying to clear it. 'Stay Focused.' He kept shooting, trying to drag the beast down with sheer firepower.
"Alexander."
The voice was more persistent now. It dragged his attention away from the... 'The what?'
'What was I shoo... what was I doing?'
"Alexander. I'm behind you."
He spun around, and almost dropped on his ass at the vision in front of him. She stood six feet tall easily, her hair showered down around her shoulders like a light rain. Literally, Xander realized as he stared at her. Her hair was light sea green, casting odd reflections on her lily white skin. Around her left eye was a light blue tattoo that depicted a design Xander thought was familiar from some of Giles' books, sort of a layered design surrounding her eye on three sides with a tail that followed her jaw line down to the neck and continued down to her shoulders where it disappeared under the armor she was wearing.
Xander blinked. It was barely armor, he realized. Her breast plate, which barely covered her chest, was a combination of partial plate and chain mail that hung raggedly under her breasts, dangling loosely over her bare mid-drift.
Xander swallowed. Hard. Her waist was covered in the same fashion, a partial plate decorated with hanging pieces of chain mail that only seemed to accentuate her legs. Her boots were among the few things she was wearing that seemed somewhat practical, being armored and running up her shins to just above her knee at the front, just below at the back.
"Who... who are you?" Xander couldn't break his eyes away.
"I am... I was... called Elanthielle."
"Was?" Xander was almost afraid to voice the word.
"I was sacrificed many thousands of years ago. I no longer have a name as you would know it."
"Ok. Say I buy that for a moment," And in truth Xander did buy it, in fact, though he wasn't sure why, everything seemed very believable to him right now. "What do you want with me?"
She smiled, something that radiated through Xander and illuminated the entire place he found himself in. "The reason you believe me is because this is the Dreaming. It is human nature to believe everything they see here, at least until they awake."
"I'm... asleep." It wasn't a question. He knew it for the truth before he spoke.
"Yes." She smiled again, "But I am real, as you shall learn when you awake."
"What are you?" Now that he understood the situation, at least somewhat, he could see that this was a hellmouthy kind of deal.
Elanthielle's eyes flashed in anger. "I am NOT associated with that abhorrent portal!"
Xander back pedaled quickly, his hands raised in supplication. "Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean anything like that. 'Hellmouthy' is just how I describe anything that doesn't seem to fit my definition of normal."
Her ire died as quickly as it flared, and her smile returned, bringing a feeling of peace to Xander. "I apologize. Understand, Alexander, I am very old and have battled demons and monsters from places you can not imagine for over a thousand years before I was sealed. I will not be compared to them."
"K... I can uh... get that. I wouldn't want to be compared to them myself, and I've only been fighting for a couple years."
"Three years, or very nearly, Alexander. You have done well for someone thrust into the battle with no formal training."
"Uh... thanks I guess..." Xander shifted uncomfortably, "Uh... not to rush you or anything... but what do you want with me?"
Elanthielle smiled slowly, "I am a Rune Staff, Alexander. I wish you to be my bearer."
"Huh?"
She sighed, and began to recite as if from a book. "Rune magick is an ancient, and thankfully lost, form of magic. It channels a sentient soul into an item of power, in my case a Battle Staff, during a sacrificial ritual. Since a soul is immortal, the item becomes virtually indestructible and the soul is bound for all eternity to it. I was made to defend against outside threats, and I wish to do so again. It gives me... purpose."
Xander stared at her in shock, "You were... sacrificed and imprisoned in a weapon?" He whispered in shock. He had once thought vampiric immortality was scary.
"I was." She said simply, if a bit sadly.
"I... Well.." Xander stammered slightly, trying to turn her down. Then he looked at her and was lost in the pure emotion he saw in her sea green eyes. "What do I have to do?"
Elanthielle smiled at him again, warming him to the core. "You just did it. Wake now, Alexander. And remember."
And Xander woke.
*****
He sat bolt upright in her cot, eyes locked and staring straight ahead at the residual image of those sea foam eyes. Slowly, he blinked. Once, then twice, then a third time, until his vision cleared.
"Jesus." He whispered, "What a dream...."
Xander trailed off as his hand closed tightly around a cool metal cylinder that he remembered seeing during his visit to Bucklands with Phoebe.
"Oh. Shit."
*****
Xander sat on the edge of his cot, staring at the metal cylinder for long moments on end. Finally he turned it over slowly, wondering how he was supposed to use it.
Just will me to activate. The voice whispered through his mind, startling him for a moment as he looked over he shoulder for the speaker.
Finally calming himself he twisted the cylind.... no. The weapon. And, staring at it, he thought one word. Activate.
The weapon bucked in his hands, extending three feet on each side in a blinding flash. The top part rocketed past his eyes, narrowly missed knocking him cold, while the bottom crunched solidly into his big toe.
"OW!" Xander screamed as he dropped the staff, "Son of a!"
He hopped around the room for a moment, cursing wildly under his breath.
The old priest, hearing his screams, rushed into the room. "Are you alright?"
"No." Xander groaned, cradling his foot as he balanced precariously on one foot, "I think I broke my toe."
"How?" the priest asked, "Did you stub it on something?"
"No I... uh... yeah... I stubbed it. That's what happened." Xander collapsed onto the cot, still cradling his foot.
"You should be more careful." The Priest looked at him oddly, "I'll let you get dressed."
"Sure. And I'll take more care." Xander managed to get out between clenched teeth.
After the priest left Xander pickup the metal staff, seething in anger. "You could have warned me." He hissed.
Sorry, came a giggling voice, It's been thousands of years since I've been used... and I've never been wielded by someone without training before.
"At least stop laughing." His voice had turned plaintiff.
I'll try. He heard between snickers.
"Crap." Xander muttered, deactivated the weapon, and started tossing on his clothes.
*****
Xander limped out into the main room of the Rectory, with Elan tucked into a deep pocket and the twin Colts riding in leather under his baggy shirt.
"Hey, padre?" Xander started, "Is there a military surplus shop in town?"
The Priest nodded, "Yes, there is one downtown, a man named Terrence runs it. He's considered a little... odd."
Xander grinned, "My kind of guy. I'm going to visit there before closing, what time is it?"
"Almost five, you'd better hurry. You slept most of the day."
Xander nodded and headed out the door to his car.
*****
The shop was dark, cluttered, and filled with things that cause Xander to break into a smile the second he walked in. Ok, focus. Can't afford much, just a couple basics.
He browsed through, still limping in pain from the fractured toe, and grabbed a pistol belt and a couple ALICE clips. He looked longingly at the body armor hanging on the wall but kept moving. Next he grabbed a canvas sheath designed for Mag-Lights, figuring that it would hold Elan securely.
Next he looked through the knives, finally picking up a solid, thick bladed, knife with a straight edge and a chiseled tip. The blade had been carbon coated to a flat black finish, and only the razor sharp edge gleamed with reflected light. His soldier memories identified the blade for him. Tanto, Japanese Dagger, modernized though... Americanized actually, debatable whether it's an improvement, but it's still a good weapon.
It was expensive, over a hundred dollars, but Xander added it to the pile anyway. Trip is shot to hell anyway, I'll cut it short and head back to Sunny-D.
*****
Terrence watched the boy as he selected things from around the store. The whole town was talking about this kid, he'd been the one who saved the kids the other night. Terrence watched the boy move, recognizing his motions.
Aside from the limp, the kid moves like a soldier. Wonder where he learned that?
The boy finally stopped browsing and came up to the register, laying his selection down with a wry grin. "Ring it up."
*****
"Ring it up." Xander said, grinning at the man. The Father was right about this guy. He's standing here like a soldier ready to go on patrol, I'm surprised that he's not 'packing'.
The man shook his head, "It's yours."
"What?" Xander looked at him in confusion.
"You're the guy who saved those kids the other night right?"
Xander nodded.
"My daughter, Lynn, was one of them. If you want this stuff, it's yours."
Xander wasn't certain what to say. He couldn't remember anyone bothering to thank him for a save before. "Uh.... Thanks."
The man suddenly peered at him intently, looking between Xander and the gear he had picked up. Pistol Belt, ALICE clips, canvas sheath, combat knife, clip pouches for a forty five...
"Your going hunting them aren't you?" Terrence didn't specify who 'they' were. He didn't need too, as far as he was concerned it didn't matter.
Xander tried to gage the man's intent from his voice, but soon gave up. What the hell, I'll go with the truth.
"Yeah. I have a tip that they'll be trying something tonight."
Terrence looked at him hard for a long moment, "You want some company, kid?"
Xander sized the man up, he looked like he could handle himself, but it was hard to tell. "Were you ever 'in'?"
The man smiled, "Special Forces. Did a tour with a sniper team in 'Nam."
Xander nodded, "Meet me at the Rectory before dark, bring a good knife and a machete or sword. Anything else is up to you."
The man's eyebrows went up at the mention of a 'sword' but he nodded.
Xander smiled, said goodbye, and left the shop.
*****
Church Rectory, That Evening
Terrence 'Terry' Powell knocked softly before going in, not really certain what he was doing. He just knew that he wasn't going to let a slip of a boy protect his family alone. He'd brought what the boy suggested, a nice heavy machete he'd had in Nam, and a K-Bar combat knife from the store. In addition he had his service pistol, a 1911 Govt Model Colt .45, and a Remington combat shotgun.
Once inside he waited while the kid, who'd introduced himself as 'Xander' geared up. The boy had all the focus of a combat vet, though his attitude by times was almost completely at odds with his movements. Terry shook his head, It was like the kid had all the skills without going through the discipline it took to gain them.
"You almost ready kid?"
Xander looked up and grinned, "Damn near."
He watched as the kid snapped a lovely pair of .45's into a shoulder holster and checked out several clip pouches on his pistol belt. Damn, those are beauties. Wonder where the kid got 'em?
Next the boy put what looked almost like a silver polished Mag-Light into a sheath on his right thigh, almost but not quite. There was no switch, and no apparent 'bulb' end either. Almost looks like a club, but its too damn short to be of much use.
Next came the machete his daughter told him about, and that he had seen the night before while the kid watched those idiots at the town meeting. Finally the Tanto blade he had given the kid earlier found it's way into a sheath on the kid's lower leg. After he was the done the boy tossed a baggy shirt over the whole thing and went from 'Commando' to 'Geek on vacation.'
Terry shook his head, Kid is good at not being noticed.
"Let's move out." Xander grinned as he gestured toward the door
"I'm coming with you."
Xander turned to look at the priest in surprise, "This is going to be dangerous, Father."
The old man shook his head, tucking a cross into his pocket along with two bottle of holy water. "This is my town, Alexander. And I have been in dangerous situations before."
Xander sighed, he wasn't one to tell someone to stay out of a fight, but he'd rather avoid the death of a Priest on his conscience. "All right. But you stay in the car. Understand?"
The priest just smiled.
*****
The grove was already occupied when Xander pulled the car over a half mile from the target. They could easily see the light of a fire in the distance, throwing shadows in all directions. Xander and Terry climbed out of the car and did a quick final check on their gear, making sure that everything was in place and tied down to prevent clanking and other unwanted noise.
"Wait here, Father." Xander said, "We'll be back as soon as we're done."
As the two men moved away from the car Xander reached into his pocket and handed Terry a cross and a bottle of water.
"What the hell is this for?" Terry looked at the two items with some disdain, he had learned a long time ago not to hump useless gear into an unknown situation.
"Demons and vampires." Xander replied seriously.
Terry just snorted.
"I'm serious. And before you interrupt me, understand this, It isn't important that you believe that they are demons or vampires. It's only important that THEY believe it."
"Are you telling me that we're going up against some kinda cult?"
Xander shrugged, he didn't see the point to arguing. "Keep an open mind and you can answer your own question later."
The rest of the hike passed quickly and in silence as Terry mulled over what Xander had said.
*****
The two men stalked quietly around the edges of the grove, taking their time and moving silently through the sparse vegetation despite Xander's limp. As they got closer Xander stopped and held up his fist, stopping Terry behind him. He flashed a series of hand signals to the older man, who then nodded, and the two split up to circle the fire.
Terry shook his head as he moved away, where the hell did the kid learn battle signs?
Xander got in fairly close before he was able to hear anything, not that he could understand much of what he heard. A long low mumbling that sounded faintly like chanting echoed up from around the blazing fire, and he could see shadows dancing around the grove as people, or things, moved around the miniature inferno.
Looks like the G-man called it. Xander considered the scene before him. It was definitely a ritual of some sort, involving more of the uglies he'd hacked apart a couple nights early. That caused him to breath a short sigh of relief, Giles had informed him that the Sh't demons were basically as mortal as any human, even if they were devoid of any shred of humane emotions. That meant that his pistols and Terry's shotgun would be effective.
Xander slipped the twin Colt's from the shoulder leather and flicked the safeties off with an easy move of his thumbs. The nearly silent clicks sent a shiver up his spine, bringing more buried memories to the surface as he advanced in a crouch toward the clearing.
Party's heating up. He thought when a scream attracted his attention. Two of the demons were drawing forth a young girl, kicking and screaming, to the fire. Well, crap.
Xander's eyes searched the other side of the clearing, looking for Terry. When he couldn't find him, he didn't know whether to be annoyed or impressed at the man's concealment. Going to have to move, and hope he catches on.
Xander drew a bead on each demon with his pistols and aimed high, above the girl's head. His finger's caressed the triggers lightly, both pistols bucking in his hands as he sent two demons to their afterlife.
With that Xander swivelled and fired again, catching a third demon in the shoulder with a .45 round that sent it tumbling. As he moved into the open clearing, looking for more targets, he also kept an eye out for the head troublemaker. Whoever it was who started this mess should be here if G-man was right.
Xander had taken only a few steps when he was tackled from behind.
*****
Terry watched as the things danced around the flames, the kid's words burning in his mind. Demons. vampires. Shit, what the hell did I get into here?
He watched as two of the things dragged a girl into the light, cursing to himself. Shit. That's Jenna. Jesus, I've got to do something.
For a brief second his eyes searched for the kid, but he couldn't find him. He knew that his shotgun was useless here, and went to pull his pistol when he heard a double crack of pistol shot echo through the area. He blinked. Both demons went down, hard. Another crack sent a third demon tumbling to the ground, then he saw the kid step out of the shadows.
Terry's eyes widened as he saw another form detach itself from the shadows, he started to yell to the kid but it was too late. Both forms went down in a tangle of arms and legs.
*****
Xander twisted as he fell, managing to come face to face with the demon that had tackled him. "Hooo, ugly! Get a damned breath mint, will ya?"
The demon just growled, its talons already wrapping around Xander's throat.
"Gnnnk!" Xander gasped, trying to draw breath through his rapidly constricting airpipe. He had lost the pistols in the fall, and was trying to grab for anything that could help. His left hand clawed at the demon's face, trying to get it to loosen it's grip to little avail. Xander's right hand, however, closed around the cool metallic surface of Elan.
Pulling the staff from the canvas sheath he braced it against the dirt and managed to activate the ancient weapon.
*****
Terry moved forward as fast as he could toward where the thing was strangling the kid, pausing only occasionally to shoot any of the things that were coming at him. He'd gotten within twenty feet when the thing was suddenly thrown clear off the kid, and sent tumbling back almost fifteen feet. Terry stared at the boy as he slowly got up, a seven foot long pole in his hands.
"What the hell?"
The boy stepped forward, gripping the pole like an over sized baseball bat, and clobbered another thing with a solid shot to the jaw that caused Terry to wince. Christ that must have hurt.
*****
Xander was breathing hard, his face flushed as he took down another demon with a heavy swing of the staff.
Alexander! Elanthielle sounded annoyed, I am NOT some 'tree branch' you just picked up!
"Huh?" Xander managed to mutter between ragged breaths.
If you are going to wield me, I would appreciate it if you did so *properly*.
"What are you talking about?" Xander demanded under his breath as he moved in on another Demon, "I hit the other guy with the hard thing. What's wrong with that?"
And if I were a sword would you claim that 'the pointy part goes in the other guy' is a proper way to do battle?
Xander didn't know a whole lot about women but he did recognize *that* tone, and it meant that he was in trouble. As usual he didn't understand why. "Can we talk about this later? Maybe when I'm NOT fighting for my life."
There was no reply form the irate weapon, just an eerie echo of an angry sigh floating through his mind.
Oh great, like I needed another woman with an axe to grind in my life.
*****