TITLE: "The Beauty of Morning Light- (6/?)"
AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun
RATING: Just to be safe I'm gonna say an R. But it's no worse then the other two.
SPOILERS: Up to season 5 episode "The Gift" Also it's two predecessors.
DISTRIBUTION: This story and the rest of its parts can be found at fanfiction.net or at least it could be if they weren't suffering from the plague. As for anybody else…No problem. Just let me know where it goes so I can stop by and say "Hello."
DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe that anyone here would be unbalanced enough to think I own this stuff in any way. But… to anyone out there who does own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm just borrowing your toys for a while to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them back in near-mint condition. Even Spike.
FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go around and writers post faster.
DEDICATION: To all of the kind souls who have been kind enough to send me feed back, especially Banquo, and Danii (a.k.a DeBrabant). Oh and Danii, I did what you recommended and took my muses or in my case demons to dinner. A great time was had by all, but I'm afraid that poor fellow at the Sizzler will never walk the same again. I would also like to thank Lori Bush who has been extremely supportive about my writing. I have to borrow a line from Xander and say, "You're my hero." I hope one day I'll be half the writer you are. A special mention to Jai L. The first BX story I ever read was "…But Not Forgotten" by you. It hooked me into BX forever after that. You deserve any and all thanks or blame for me writing today. Also, thanks for not pulling a Rayden and striking me with Lightning bolts. To the great and powerful Oz(mandayus). I told you before that you're work inspires me. I meant it. Michael. Buddy I have simply given up on trying to review everything you post. It just keeps coming… Thanks for that. Lots of non-gay type love (Not that there's anything wrong with that) goes out to Silent Bob R, who really made me feel like I have a place here when he included me in his crazy, insane BX'er fics. He also said that I could have Faith in the next story so I am very, VERY happy.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a sequel to "Nothing Short of Divine Intervention" which in turn is a sequel to "To Live is the greatest Pain" So please read them if you haven't done so already so you won't be lost. This will be a chaptered story because I have decided on an even bigger canvas. I will be switching between Third and First person views. Whenever it's in First Person you are seeing the whedonverse through the wonderful new technology known as XanderVision (Patent Pending). Also please take note that I do not write. My demons do and I will not be held responsible. You have been warned.
*************************
The Harbingers of Change
*************************
Xander nearly fell to his knees. Keeping his wits about him, he barely managed to defend another punch to his gut with the tire iron. Thankfully, his attacker backed away for a moment and Xander got a good look at him. He was quite a bit shorter then him with brown hair and green eyes that were as cold as arctic snow. The sleeves of his gray shirt were rolled up and instead of the usual over-confident smirk, Xander saw caution.
Right away Xander knew this wasn't a typical minion.
Xander pulled back his right leg hoping for a better balance. He knew he was going to have to press any advantage he could. His tire iron clutched like a baseball bat, Xander looked for any other signs of danger that might hurt the woman with the baby or himself.
Then Green Eyes burst into movement with a left sucker punch which clipped Xander's shoulder and distracted him long enough for the real attack: A right chop to his midsection, just above the hip. The blow drilled the top of his pelvis bone painfully. Xander stumbled and didn't even see the flying knee his opponent sent at him, which nearly doubled him over.
Despite the above average skill of this vamp, Xander had fought these things for the past six years and knew a trick or two. Xander made as if he was backing away in fear and then lunged forward with the point of his weapon, aiming for the knee. The vampire yelped in pain but was still cognizant enough to drop an elbow onto Xander's back.
"Damn! You stubborn bastard, you!" growled Green Eyes.
Xander jumped to his right, barely avoiding another elbow and found himself in the ideal position to shatter his opponents ankle. He swung as hard as he could muster and was rewarded with a swoosh followed by a dull crunch and a feral scream of frustration, anger, and pain.
Xander couldn't help his smile. Standing up, he saw the blur of movement that was this vamp's rapidly approaching fist. Rather then duck, he blocked with his tire iron using a full swing. It landed right above Green Eye's elbow. His arm shirked back in pain.
Xander turned to yell at the young woman who still seemed to be in a haze watching the blonde vampire he'd hit with the tire iron in the beginning, "Move it if you don't wanna die Lady!" That seemed to click for this woman and she began to turn tail and run, when the blonde used his speed to catch up to her immediately, his fangs just poised above her neck and shoulder.
"I thought I told you not to run, Suzy?"
Xander saw none of this, however, as he was a little preoccupied with Green Eyes.
"Back off, Sonny. You'll only get killed if you stay here." His tone was calm, collected and ominous.
There was simply no way in hell this guy was just a minion.
Rather then allow the further running of that train of thought, Xander threw his weapon end over end into his foe. It landed square in his chest then bounced off. Green Eyes looked down at the weapon very amused and didn't see Xander's right cross. The punch's momentum dropped him like a sack of potatoes. Xander would never have the strength to hurt a vampire with a punch but that didn't mean that the force of the blow wouldn't be able to physically move him.
Xander turned to the woman with her attacker poised over her. He ran full speed and clothes-lined the blonde. The woman, who didn't like being called Suzy, turned to him with tears in her eyes. Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something but the seriousness of the situation wouldn't allow it.
"Run now! Talk later!" Xander yelled.
He led her by the shoulders and made his way for the car, all the while, shoving her along the way. Not the most well coordinated rescue but it would do in a pinch.
He opened the passenger side of his car and she jumped in, still clutching her baby. Introductions would come later, now was the time to get the hell out of dodge.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Willow hugged herself and allowed her friends words to run through her and assure her. She knew they were right, she would have to talk to Xander, and without doing so then nothing would be resolved. She would forever be left with this dull, empty, ache that had once been reserved for her oldest living friend, her childhood companion, and her one time love-interest.
Nothing could ever be the same between them but that didn't mean she could give up on him now.
"Buffy, I think asking Xander to move in with you guys would be a great idea. He's lost so much… I think he needs to have you and Dawn around to make him feel normal."
Buffy looked at her best-friend questioningly. "Normal?"
"Yeah. He feels at his best when he's protecting someone. And before you start with "I'm the slayer", I don't exactly mean physically. He just likes putting other people before him. It gives him- I don't know, a purpose, I think."
"Come to think of it, he does spend a lot of time with Dawn, making sure she doesn't blame herself. And he does do his best to cheer her up."
"I guess I still know Xander a little." Willow smiled sadly. "I need to talk to him, Buffy. I want my Xander back."
Tara put a comforting arm on her shoulder. "You will, baby."
After a few moments to push aside the angst, Willow spoke again. "So when are you going to ask him to move in officially?"
Buffy looked pensive for a second. "I don't know. Tomorrow?" she asked her witch companions.
"Good," Willow said. "Xander needs something to keep him out of trouble."
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
"You are in so much trouble, Greg." The blonde vampire looked defiantly at the short brown-haired annoyance that towered above him at the moment. An annoyance that could easily and giddily tear him to shreds.
"Shut up Angus. I don't need this now."
Angus closed his eyes, shook his head in disappointment and kicked Greg in the head.
"Never disrespect me again, young one. I was terrorizing this world before your pappy was an itch in your grand pappy's crotch. You understand me." His demonic features took center stage in a way that would scare even the most dedicated slayer.
Greg looked up toward Angus with his nose trickling blood. His vamp face was also on, but with the bleeding from his nose it made him look pathetic rather then menacing.
"We warned you to stay away from that woman until we had a way of avoiding the Slayer and her cohorts. And instead, you rush out the first night here and search for her. And instead of following her stealthily like we've shown you, you frighten her and have possibly allowed her to escape to who-knows-where." Angus paused for a moment. "And if we have to follow her across the border, I swear, I will torture you with a butcher knife from here to the next millennium, Cold Cut."
Greg knew that Angus was as good as his word and in fear said nothing to him.
Angus brought the tire iron up to his face and looked at it a moment. Then he threw it with all his supernatural speed and strength into Greg's leg, causing it to stick out grotesquely.
The sharp, grinding pain that shot up from his leg was brutal and his scream was full of agony.
Ignoring the noise, Angus looked at his nails and said, offhandedly, "Our Master will do much worse, Cold Cut."
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Susanna was panicking. Greg was here. The monster that killed her husband, terrorized her and wanted her baby dead was here. How could she have found her and Melissa so quickly? She ran to the South Border rather then the North, knowing that the North was much easier to get to and had family she could turn to. Her carefully laid plans had turned to shit and now she was truly scared.
The man next to her kept trying to say soothing things but it all filtered out as garbage to her. What could he do that she hadn't done already? Except maybe run faster.
"Will you please snap out of it!"
That brought her back to reality. "Shut Up! Shut Up! Would you please shut up! I'm having a nervous breakdown here. Do you mind?!?" The man with dark hair stared forward as if that reaction was exactly what he was looking for. Unfortunately, that reaction also caused the little bundle of innocence nestled atop her breasts to start crying. "Dammit, do you see what you've done?!?"
Xander turned his head to the woman slightly, while still keeping his eyes on the road. He just now recognized her as the unpleasant woman from the alley. Figures that he would go through so much trouble to get her a place to stay and she ends up being the victim of a vamp attack.
The raining shit forecast was still in effect for Xander Harris.
Susanna kept cooing to her baby, in the hopes of calming her down. "Calm down, Baby. Mommy needs you to be quiet so she can think. I love you baby. Mommy's here. Mommy's here. Shuuuu"
"What's her name?"
Susanna seemed startled by the simple question. It took her a moment and some staring at Xander's head to finally say something. "Uh, her name's Melissa."
"Very pretty name."
"Uh, thank you, Mr…?"
"Uh, Harris. But you can just call me Xander. Mister makes me feel uncomfortable."
"Oh."
Xander hoped that this simple conversation would calm her down a little. Someone who was hysterical just wasn't fun to be around. He knew that from experience. So to keep the conversation going Xander said, "So what's your name?"
There was a long pause.
"My name's Susanna."
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Greg limped into their newly acquired hideout: A penthouse suite at the Sunnydale Ramada. Abandoned warehouses were just so passé. So over. So "been done". Or at least that's what his new master believed.
Master.
Now there was a word that Greg never thought that he would ever have to use in reference to anybody. Coach. Boss. Chief. Officer. Possibly even Sir. But never Master. It was just so… counter-culture to his red-blooded American beliefs. Not that he was ever a scholar of the Constitution or it's effects on society. To be truthful, he always took that for granted and resented having to be forced to learn anything about it in school. But, one part that he always understood and believed in was that authority wasn't always right.
So he spent his life defying any authority that wasn't his in any way that he could. Who was anyone to tell him how he could or couldn't live his life? They certainly didn't have to live it. If he wasn't in charge then he didn't want any part of it. At home he came in when he wanted or never at all. At school either his friends listened to him or they weren't allowed to be in his social circle anymore. In football, he was the quarterback calling all the shots and whoever fucked up or didn't listen to him could go back to playing pee-wee for all he cared.
It was his way or the highway. Or at least it used to be.
He had given this a lot of thought and had come to the conclusion that it was all Suzy's fault. It had to be. He had his life in complete control until she came and made him fall in love with her. She manipulated him and used him. She would never listen to him and after he had gone through the effort of showing her how much she meant to him by having sex with her she became a total slut.
He never had proof, but he just knew that the little nympho was cheating on him. He would see her talking to guys everyday at school or at the mall. She would always make up some bullshit excuse. Either that person was just a friend or a customer or some other crap.
Didn't she know that she belonged to him? That she was supposed to be loyal, loving and there for HIM?
The lying bitch always took him for granted. But no more. He was going to get her back, and they would be together because that's how it was meant to be. And Greg had made sure that she realized it too. When she took off like the little bitch she was and left for Seattle he eventually found her. When she got married to the sniveling little dweeb, she showed him how weak he was by literally squeezing the life out of him. Now he was going to find her again and turn her. After she became like him, then she would realize that she had been wrong all this time. She was fighting the future every time she ran away.
They would be together for the rest of eternity. It was just so beautifully poetic that it just had to be.
He didn't care about his new Master's plans as long as he got his Suzy back. In fact this entire "family" was getting on his nerves with the way they were always telling him what to do. They always said it was for his own good, but Greg had heard the same song and dance from people his entire life. He wanted so badly to just say the hell with it and move on his own, but the fact is that this group had contacts and connections. And while he was sure he could find Suzy by himself, the simple fact was that they were more organized and could do anything he wanted to do quicker.
So for now, he would use them the way people tried to use him his whole life. Unfortunately that involved being more obedient in the future.
He could be a team player when he needed to be.
But he wasn't going to be happy about it. That was for sure.
As Greg moved passed one of the couches in the suite he couldn't help but notice the tangy, sweet smell of burning incense. That meant that Estella was around. An arrogant bitch if he ever did meet one, Estella was the authority on everything magical. She spoke to him about magic in the same way his teachers spoke about chemistry or biology: in an annoyed, condescending tone that seemed more meant to flaunt their own intelligence then teach you anything. Her British accent helped little in that regard, due to his natural American prejudice for the English as being stuffy and arrogant.
As if on cue, she exited one of the rooms that she had apparently appropriated for her lab. She wore an amused grin as she spoke to Angus directly, purposely avoiding Greg, "I see you've found the little one, Angus. Did he cause any trouble?"
Greg hated that "little one" remark. Standing at six feet, five inches and weighing in at two hundred ten pounds, he was easily the largest of all of them. He knew that she meant it to refer only to his age, but he also knew that she enjoyed how annoyed he got when she used it. He decided not to give the smug, little bitch the satisfaction this time and kept quiet.
"I'm afraid our little "runt o' the litter" has started to chase the other puppies. This one bitch in particular he seems rightly fond of." Angus' Irish heritage showed up in his change of accent whenever he got angry and his voice had just a peppering of it now.
Estella's eyes narrowed as she stared holes into Greg but spoke only to Angus. "If he ruined our plans then he'll be lucky if I ONLY skin his bits and leave them raw and floating in iodine.
Greg's eyes held fear in them for a moment. He heard the others, including the Master, speak about her skills of torture with nothing but the utmost awe. The Master himself had called her an "artist". But his pride over rid his self-preservation instincts and he once again adopted his angry facial expressions. He would never allow a woman to get the better of him again.
Angus smirked as he imagined Estella doing just that to him. "I'm not sure, Estella. I'm taking him to Rosario now. I didn't run into the Slayer, but I think I might have run into one of her allies."
"I hope he lets me have fun with this one. I need a new toy; although, this one looks like he'll break easily, doesn't he Angus?"
"He certainly is made of cheap material." Angus proceeded to kick Greg where the tire iron was ripped from his leg. Greg yelped and collapsed on the opposite knee trying to keep the weight off of the still sensitive area. He turned his head to glare at him. Angus immediately followed up with backhand slap. "Don't ye dare look at me like that, Cold Cut!"
"Angus."
Angus turned to see an oriental vampire sitting in a chair drinking blood from a glass. "What?"
"Don't keep our Master waiting. He really wants to… speak with him."
Angus smiled as he turned to Greg's fallen form. "What are you waiting for? An invitation? Go."
Greg grunted as he stood up. He then walked to the room that his Master had taken while trying to hide his limp. He was seriously hating the fact that no one except Angus was talking to him. It was as if they didn't even want to acknowledge his existence.
As he made his way into the room, Greg silently braced himself for what laid ahead. There was a reason why in a group of very powerful vampires that they called this one Master.
And it wasn't because he had sired them; although, he had.
"Hello Greg." His Master, was sitting on a chair facing the window and his back to him. He never turned around.
"Master I-"
His Master raised his hand, signaling him to be quiet. "I wasn't finished," he said calmly.
"You disobeyed me Greg," he stated matter-of-factly. "I feel very hurt. I thought that we were learning about how to trust one another. I see now that I was wrong. You don't trust my judgment, my guidance, or my leadership. If you did, then you wouldn't have put us all in danger by leaving when I gave specific orders to lay low for tonight. Now, I am going to ask you what happened tonight and you are going to answer me. Understood?"
"Yes."
"Did you go out looking for your sweet Suzy?"
"Yes."
"Did you find her?"
"Yes." Greg was beginning to dread this line of questioning. He wanted nothing more then to leave alive, pride be damned.
"Now this is very important Greg. Did she see you?"
Greg hesitated before answering, "Yes."
"Oh, Greg. That was stupid."
Quicker then thought, Greg was pinned by his throat to the wall, his toes dangling above the floor. The loud thump from his body being slammed echoed throughout the room. His neck was being squeezed so hard that he heard loud, wet snapping and cracking coming from it.
If he were human, he would be dead already.
Greg could feel his blood dripping onto his Master's hands. He felt as if his entire being was centered around the oppressive crushing of his throat. His Master said nothing as he squeezed tighter.
"Ros- Rosaaarrrr," he squeaked out.
"What is it, Greg?" His voice was still eerily calm.
"Ca- Caann- Cann'tt Breeeathe!" Greg's eyes felt as if they were going to shoot out from the pressure being applied to his neck.
Rosario rolled his eyes. "You're a vampire, you moron. You don't need to breathe. The only reason that you do is because you need air to speak."
That thought was a sobering one to Greg. He was a vampire. He should fight back. His arms moved to Rosario's elbows, trying to leverage him away.
Rosario laughed at the attempt of fighting back, as if he actually thought that he could win against him. The fool never did know how to be subtle and bide his time. He was always rash and impudent. Not for the first time, Rosario cursed the circumstances that necessitated his turning of the pathetic waste of blood he held in his hands. A lesser, more irrational master vampire would have already killed him for his disobedience this night, and, in fact, Rosario was tempted to do just that, but the fact of the matter was that in a town with the most feared Slayer of all time he would need this moron, for bait and fodder if nothing else.
Still, Greg was trying to fight him and something like that just couldn't go unpunished. No need for any Alpha-male confusion in the ranks.
He brought back his fist and proceeded to slam it over and over again into his abdomen and ribcage, causing a lot of pain but only enough damage that he could be healed by tomorrow night.
A weapon with no use, was a useless weapon.
Rosario let go of Greg and watched as he slid to the floor in a fashion that made him look like every bone in his body had been destroyed.
Lovely thought.
Greg never knew such pain, not even when he died and shed his human shell was the pain as exquisite as it was now. He was nothing here. A pawn in someone else's game. He couldn't even pretend to think that he would ever call the shots again.
Suzy would pay for forcing him into this.
"Chan," Rosario called, "would you mind taking Greg over to Estella, and give her my blessings to do whatever she wants with him as long as he'll still be able to fight tomorrow night. He might come in handy as a shield in case the Slayer decides to rain on our parade.
Chan stood by the entrance looking on Greg's form in disgust. Rather then picked up Greg's pathetic carcass he motioned for Angus to do it and followed Rosario to the balcony. Once there, he asked, "But Master, wouldn't it be more beneficial to hunt for the girl now. She has a tendency to run away whenever he shows up at her doorstep.
Rosario held a wine glass of blood that he had picked up from his chair and sniffed its contents gently, savoring its aroma. "This is La Boca del Infierno, Chan, or the Hellmouth for those of us less able to speak Spanish."
"Yes. I remember." Rosario noted the slight hint of anger, in Chan's voice. No matter how much time passed he never seemed able to get over his hate of California, Rosario mused.
"Well, the thing is, events don't tend to just happen here by coincidence. If she was drawn here, then that means something wants her here… To seek the Slayer's aid would be my personal guess."
"It could just be a coincidence, Master."
"First of all, Chan, stop calling me Master. The others are not around and you have been my equal for a very long time now."
"I will never be your equal, Rosario. We both know that."
With anyone else, Rosario would just assume that he was being manipulated in order to be put off guard. But not with Chan. He wasn't the type for such manipulations. At least not with him. Chan could have left this brood a long time ago, and Rosario would never have thought the lesser of him; in fact, he would have applauded him. But despite the many opportunities, Chan never swayed in his loyalty. Such loyalty was rare even among humans, but among their darker brethren, the vampires, it was valued over gold and diamonds. Normally fear and the sire bond were the only things that kept such a group together.
Such bonds were fragile. As defenseless as a glass house with stones being thrown at it.
Among the others, Chan was his subordinate. Here in private, he was his confidante and most trusted ally.
"You sell yourself short, Chan. We both truly know that after this venture you will leave and begin your own family. And a powerful one it shall be." Rosario didn't have to be looking at Chan to sense the smile. As proud as he was of Angus and Estella, it was Chan who would be the true testament to his legacy. In his eyes, he was the only one to have surpassed him.
"And anyway, you are forgetting our place in this universe. We are, quote, "The Bad Guys", unquote. God, Buddha, the Fates, the Forces of Good, the Powers That Be, or whatever the hell else you want to call the annoying people upstairs who are in charge of keeping the status quo, are going to throw everything in the books at us. That includes the Slayer. Make no mistake, Chan. This is endgame. Our last stand."
"If you truly believe in that, then why are we here anyway. There's no point in going against such a foe, if the Gods themselves are behind them."
"You are forgetting one other thing, Chan. Nothing, and I mean nothing is guaranteed. Prophecies are only possible outcomes, not absolute truths. We have obstacles of epic proportions in our future, to be sure, but we shall overcome. I have trained and taught all of you to not be limited by your darker natures and personal vendettas. We are prepared and shall do all that is necessary to win. It's time for a change and we shall be the harbingers of that change."
Chan remained quiet. Rosario was perhaps the greatest vampire to ever walk this earth, and he considered him an equal. If this was supposed to be the grounds of their rebirth, then so be it.
******To*Be*Continued******
Well folks, what do you think. I have spent a lot of time in creating my villains. Welcome to the horrors of my mind.
In other news, I plan on working on chapter 3 of "Where Do I Fit in Your Life?" next and I have the workings of a Batman Beyond novel that's been floating around my head ever since I saw the unedited version of "Return of the Joker"; although, I doubt I'll ever get to that soon. By the way, screw Luke Skywalker, The Joker was mark Hamill's greatest role EVER. May none argue with me.
Back to story stuff… It all goes down hill from here on in, for the Xandman.
Wicked Raygun
--You think you know ... what you are ... what's to come. You haven't even begun.--
Rudolph Martin as Dracula in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"
AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun
RATING: Just to be safe I'm gonna say an R. But it's no worse then the other two.
SPOILERS: Up to season 5 episode "The Gift" Also it's two predecessors.
DISTRIBUTION: This story and the rest of its parts can be found at fanfiction.net or at least it could be if they weren't suffering from the plague. As for anybody else…No problem. Just let me know where it goes so I can stop by and say "Hello."
DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe that anyone here would be unbalanced enough to think I own this stuff in any way. But… to anyone out there who does own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm just borrowing your toys for a while to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them back in near-mint condition. Even Spike.
FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go around and writers post faster.
DEDICATION: To all of the kind souls who have been kind enough to send me feed back, especially Banquo, and Danii (a.k.a DeBrabant). Oh and Danii, I did what you recommended and took my muses or in my case demons to dinner. A great time was had by all, but I'm afraid that poor fellow at the Sizzler will never walk the same again. I would also like to thank Lori Bush who has been extremely supportive about my writing. I have to borrow a line from Xander and say, "You're my hero." I hope one day I'll be half the writer you are. A special mention to Jai L. The first BX story I ever read was "…But Not Forgotten" by you. It hooked me into BX forever after that. You deserve any and all thanks or blame for me writing today. Also, thanks for not pulling a Rayden and striking me with Lightning bolts. To the great and powerful Oz(mandayus). I told you before that you're work inspires me. I meant it. Michael. Buddy I have simply given up on trying to review everything you post. It just keeps coming… Thanks for that. Lots of non-gay type love (Not that there's anything wrong with that) goes out to Silent Bob R, who really made me feel like I have a place here when he included me in his crazy, insane BX'er fics. He also said that I could have Faith in the next story so I am very, VERY happy.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a sequel to "Nothing Short of Divine Intervention" which in turn is a sequel to "To Live is the greatest Pain" So please read them if you haven't done so already so you won't be lost. This will be a chaptered story because I have decided on an even bigger canvas. I will be switching between Third and First person views. Whenever it's in First Person you are seeing the whedonverse through the wonderful new technology known as XanderVision (Patent Pending). Also please take note that I do not write. My demons do and I will not be held responsible. You have been warned.
*************************
The Harbingers of Change
*************************
Xander nearly fell to his knees. Keeping his wits about him, he barely managed to defend another punch to his gut with the tire iron. Thankfully, his attacker backed away for a moment and Xander got a good look at him. He was quite a bit shorter then him with brown hair and green eyes that were as cold as arctic snow. The sleeves of his gray shirt were rolled up and instead of the usual over-confident smirk, Xander saw caution.
Right away Xander knew this wasn't a typical minion.
Xander pulled back his right leg hoping for a better balance. He knew he was going to have to press any advantage he could. His tire iron clutched like a baseball bat, Xander looked for any other signs of danger that might hurt the woman with the baby or himself.
Then Green Eyes burst into movement with a left sucker punch which clipped Xander's shoulder and distracted him long enough for the real attack: A right chop to his midsection, just above the hip. The blow drilled the top of his pelvis bone painfully. Xander stumbled and didn't even see the flying knee his opponent sent at him, which nearly doubled him over.
Despite the above average skill of this vamp, Xander had fought these things for the past six years and knew a trick or two. Xander made as if he was backing away in fear and then lunged forward with the point of his weapon, aiming for the knee. The vampire yelped in pain but was still cognizant enough to drop an elbow onto Xander's back.
"Damn! You stubborn bastard, you!" growled Green Eyes.
Xander jumped to his right, barely avoiding another elbow and found himself in the ideal position to shatter his opponents ankle. He swung as hard as he could muster and was rewarded with a swoosh followed by a dull crunch and a feral scream of frustration, anger, and pain.
Xander couldn't help his smile. Standing up, he saw the blur of movement that was this vamp's rapidly approaching fist. Rather then duck, he blocked with his tire iron using a full swing. It landed right above Green Eye's elbow. His arm shirked back in pain.
Xander turned to yell at the young woman who still seemed to be in a haze watching the blonde vampire he'd hit with the tire iron in the beginning, "Move it if you don't wanna die Lady!" That seemed to click for this woman and she began to turn tail and run, when the blonde used his speed to catch up to her immediately, his fangs just poised above her neck and shoulder.
"I thought I told you not to run, Suzy?"
Xander saw none of this, however, as he was a little preoccupied with Green Eyes.
"Back off, Sonny. You'll only get killed if you stay here." His tone was calm, collected and ominous.
There was simply no way in hell this guy was just a minion.
Rather then allow the further running of that train of thought, Xander threw his weapon end over end into his foe. It landed square in his chest then bounced off. Green Eyes looked down at the weapon very amused and didn't see Xander's right cross. The punch's momentum dropped him like a sack of potatoes. Xander would never have the strength to hurt a vampire with a punch but that didn't mean that the force of the blow wouldn't be able to physically move him.
Xander turned to the woman with her attacker poised over her. He ran full speed and clothes-lined the blonde. The woman, who didn't like being called Suzy, turned to him with tears in her eyes. Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something but the seriousness of the situation wouldn't allow it.
"Run now! Talk later!" Xander yelled.
He led her by the shoulders and made his way for the car, all the while, shoving her along the way. Not the most well coordinated rescue but it would do in a pinch.
He opened the passenger side of his car and she jumped in, still clutching her baby. Introductions would come later, now was the time to get the hell out of dodge.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Willow hugged herself and allowed her friends words to run through her and assure her. She knew they were right, she would have to talk to Xander, and without doing so then nothing would be resolved. She would forever be left with this dull, empty, ache that had once been reserved for her oldest living friend, her childhood companion, and her one time love-interest.
Nothing could ever be the same between them but that didn't mean she could give up on him now.
"Buffy, I think asking Xander to move in with you guys would be a great idea. He's lost so much… I think he needs to have you and Dawn around to make him feel normal."
Buffy looked at her best-friend questioningly. "Normal?"
"Yeah. He feels at his best when he's protecting someone. And before you start with "I'm the slayer", I don't exactly mean physically. He just likes putting other people before him. It gives him- I don't know, a purpose, I think."
"Come to think of it, he does spend a lot of time with Dawn, making sure she doesn't blame herself. And he does do his best to cheer her up."
"I guess I still know Xander a little." Willow smiled sadly. "I need to talk to him, Buffy. I want my Xander back."
Tara put a comforting arm on her shoulder. "You will, baby."
After a few moments to push aside the angst, Willow spoke again. "So when are you going to ask him to move in officially?"
Buffy looked pensive for a second. "I don't know. Tomorrow?" she asked her witch companions.
"Good," Willow said. "Xander needs something to keep him out of trouble."
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
"You are in so much trouble, Greg." The blonde vampire looked defiantly at the short brown-haired annoyance that towered above him at the moment. An annoyance that could easily and giddily tear him to shreds.
"Shut up Angus. I don't need this now."
Angus closed his eyes, shook his head in disappointment and kicked Greg in the head.
"Never disrespect me again, young one. I was terrorizing this world before your pappy was an itch in your grand pappy's crotch. You understand me." His demonic features took center stage in a way that would scare even the most dedicated slayer.
Greg looked up toward Angus with his nose trickling blood. His vamp face was also on, but with the bleeding from his nose it made him look pathetic rather then menacing.
"We warned you to stay away from that woman until we had a way of avoiding the Slayer and her cohorts. And instead, you rush out the first night here and search for her. And instead of following her stealthily like we've shown you, you frighten her and have possibly allowed her to escape to who-knows-where." Angus paused for a moment. "And if we have to follow her across the border, I swear, I will torture you with a butcher knife from here to the next millennium, Cold Cut."
Greg knew that Angus was as good as his word and in fear said nothing to him.
Angus brought the tire iron up to his face and looked at it a moment. Then he threw it with all his supernatural speed and strength into Greg's leg, causing it to stick out grotesquely.
The sharp, grinding pain that shot up from his leg was brutal and his scream was full of agony.
Ignoring the noise, Angus looked at his nails and said, offhandedly, "Our Master will do much worse, Cold Cut."
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Susanna was panicking. Greg was here. The monster that killed her husband, terrorized her and wanted her baby dead was here. How could she have found her and Melissa so quickly? She ran to the South Border rather then the North, knowing that the North was much easier to get to and had family she could turn to. Her carefully laid plans had turned to shit and now she was truly scared.
The man next to her kept trying to say soothing things but it all filtered out as garbage to her. What could he do that she hadn't done already? Except maybe run faster.
"Will you please snap out of it!"
That brought her back to reality. "Shut Up! Shut Up! Would you please shut up! I'm having a nervous breakdown here. Do you mind?!?" The man with dark hair stared forward as if that reaction was exactly what he was looking for. Unfortunately, that reaction also caused the little bundle of innocence nestled atop her breasts to start crying. "Dammit, do you see what you've done?!?"
Xander turned his head to the woman slightly, while still keeping his eyes on the road. He just now recognized her as the unpleasant woman from the alley. Figures that he would go through so much trouble to get her a place to stay and she ends up being the victim of a vamp attack.
The raining shit forecast was still in effect for Xander Harris.
Susanna kept cooing to her baby, in the hopes of calming her down. "Calm down, Baby. Mommy needs you to be quiet so she can think. I love you baby. Mommy's here. Mommy's here. Shuuuu"
"What's her name?"
Susanna seemed startled by the simple question. It took her a moment and some staring at Xander's head to finally say something. "Uh, her name's Melissa."
"Very pretty name."
"Uh, thank you, Mr…?"
"Uh, Harris. But you can just call me Xander. Mister makes me feel uncomfortable."
"Oh."
Xander hoped that this simple conversation would calm her down a little. Someone who was hysterical just wasn't fun to be around. He knew that from experience. So to keep the conversation going Xander said, "So what's your name?"
There was a long pause.
"My name's Susanna."
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Greg limped into their newly acquired hideout: A penthouse suite at the Sunnydale Ramada. Abandoned warehouses were just so passé. So over. So "been done". Or at least that's what his new master believed.
Master.
Now there was a word that Greg never thought that he would ever have to use in reference to anybody. Coach. Boss. Chief. Officer. Possibly even Sir. But never Master. It was just so… counter-culture to his red-blooded American beliefs. Not that he was ever a scholar of the Constitution or it's effects on society. To be truthful, he always took that for granted and resented having to be forced to learn anything about it in school. But, one part that he always understood and believed in was that authority wasn't always right.
So he spent his life defying any authority that wasn't his in any way that he could. Who was anyone to tell him how he could or couldn't live his life? They certainly didn't have to live it. If he wasn't in charge then he didn't want any part of it. At home he came in when he wanted or never at all. At school either his friends listened to him or they weren't allowed to be in his social circle anymore. In football, he was the quarterback calling all the shots and whoever fucked up or didn't listen to him could go back to playing pee-wee for all he cared.
It was his way or the highway. Or at least it used to be.
He had given this a lot of thought and had come to the conclusion that it was all Suzy's fault. It had to be. He had his life in complete control until she came and made him fall in love with her. She manipulated him and used him. She would never listen to him and after he had gone through the effort of showing her how much she meant to him by having sex with her she became a total slut.
He never had proof, but he just knew that the little nympho was cheating on him. He would see her talking to guys everyday at school or at the mall. She would always make up some bullshit excuse. Either that person was just a friend or a customer or some other crap.
Didn't she know that she belonged to him? That she was supposed to be loyal, loving and there for HIM?
The lying bitch always took him for granted. But no more. He was going to get her back, and they would be together because that's how it was meant to be. And Greg had made sure that she realized it too. When she took off like the little bitch she was and left for Seattle he eventually found her. When she got married to the sniveling little dweeb, she showed him how weak he was by literally squeezing the life out of him. Now he was going to find her again and turn her. After she became like him, then she would realize that she had been wrong all this time. She was fighting the future every time she ran away.
They would be together for the rest of eternity. It was just so beautifully poetic that it just had to be.
He didn't care about his new Master's plans as long as he got his Suzy back. In fact this entire "family" was getting on his nerves with the way they were always telling him what to do. They always said it was for his own good, but Greg had heard the same song and dance from people his entire life. He wanted so badly to just say the hell with it and move on his own, but the fact is that this group had contacts and connections. And while he was sure he could find Suzy by himself, the simple fact was that they were more organized and could do anything he wanted to do quicker.
So for now, he would use them the way people tried to use him his whole life. Unfortunately that involved being more obedient in the future.
He could be a team player when he needed to be.
But he wasn't going to be happy about it. That was for sure.
As Greg moved passed one of the couches in the suite he couldn't help but notice the tangy, sweet smell of burning incense. That meant that Estella was around. An arrogant bitch if he ever did meet one, Estella was the authority on everything magical. She spoke to him about magic in the same way his teachers spoke about chemistry or biology: in an annoyed, condescending tone that seemed more meant to flaunt their own intelligence then teach you anything. Her British accent helped little in that regard, due to his natural American prejudice for the English as being stuffy and arrogant.
As if on cue, she exited one of the rooms that she had apparently appropriated for her lab. She wore an amused grin as she spoke to Angus directly, purposely avoiding Greg, "I see you've found the little one, Angus. Did he cause any trouble?"
Greg hated that "little one" remark. Standing at six feet, five inches and weighing in at two hundred ten pounds, he was easily the largest of all of them. He knew that she meant it to refer only to his age, but he also knew that she enjoyed how annoyed he got when she used it. He decided not to give the smug, little bitch the satisfaction this time and kept quiet.
"I'm afraid our little "runt o' the litter" has started to chase the other puppies. This one bitch in particular he seems rightly fond of." Angus' Irish heritage showed up in his change of accent whenever he got angry and his voice had just a peppering of it now.
Estella's eyes narrowed as she stared holes into Greg but spoke only to Angus. "If he ruined our plans then he'll be lucky if I ONLY skin his bits and leave them raw and floating in iodine.
Greg's eyes held fear in them for a moment. He heard the others, including the Master, speak about her skills of torture with nothing but the utmost awe. The Master himself had called her an "artist". But his pride over rid his self-preservation instincts and he once again adopted his angry facial expressions. He would never allow a woman to get the better of him again.
Angus smirked as he imagined Estella doing just that to him. "I'm not sure, Estella. I'm taking him to Rosario now. I didn't run into the Slayer, but I think I might have run into one of her allies."
"I hope he lets me have fun with this one. I need a new toy; although, this one looks like he'll break easily, doesn't he Angus?"
"He certainly is made of cheap material." Angus proceeded to kick Greg where the tire iron was ripped from his leg. Greg yelped and collapsed on the opposite knee trying to keep the weight off of the still sensitive area. He turned his head to glare at him. Angus immediately followed up with backhand slap. "Don't ye dare look at me like that, Cold Cut!"
"Angus."
Angus turned to see an oriental vampire sitting in a chair drinking blood from a glass. "What?"
"Don't keep our Master waiting. He really wants to… speak with him."
Angus smiled as he turned to Greg's fallen form. "What are you waiting for? An invitation? Go."
Greg grunted as he stood up. He then walked to the room that his Master had taken while trying to hide his limp. He was seriously hating the fact that no one except Angus was talking to him. It was as if they didn't even want to acknowledge his existence.
As he made his way into the room, Greg silently braced himself for what laid ahead. There was a reason why in a group of very powerful vampires that they called this one Master.
And it wasn't because he had sired them; although, he had.
"Hello Greg." His Master, was sitting on a chair facing the window and his back to him. He never turned around.
"Master I-"
His Master raised his hand, signaling him to be quiet. "I wasn't finished," he said calmly.
"You disobeyed me Greg," he stated matter-of-factly. "I feel very hurt. I thought that we were learning about how to trust one another. I see now that I was wrong. You don't trust my judgment, my guidance, or my leadership. If you did, then you wouldn't have put us all in danger by leaving when I gave specific orders to lay low for tonight. Now, I am going to ask you what happened tonight and you are going to answer me. Understood?"
"Yes."
"Did you go out looking for your sweet Suzy?"
"Yes."
"Did you find her?"
"Yes." Greg was beginning to dread this line of questioning. He wanted nothing more then to leave alive, pride be damned.
"Now this is very important Greg. Did she see you?"
Greg hesitated before answering, "Yes."
"Oh, Greg. That was stupid."
Quicker then thought, Greg was pinned by his throat to the wall, his toes dangling above the floor. The loud thump from his body being slammed echoed throughout the room. His neck was being squeezed so hard that he heard loud, wet snapping and cracking coming from it.
If he were human, he would be dead already.
Greg could feel his blood dripping onto his Master's hands. He felt as if his entire being was centered around the oppressive crushing of his throat. His Master said nothing as he squeezed tighter.
"Ros- Rosaaarrrr," he squeaked out.
"What is it, Greg?" His voice was still eerily calm.
"Ca- Caann- Cann'tt Breeeathe!" Greg's eyes felt as if they were going to shoot out from the pressure being applied to his neck.
Rosario rolled his eyes. "You're a vampire, you moron. You don't need to breathe. The only reason that you do is because you need air to speak."
That thought was a sobering one to Greg. He was a vampire. He should fight back. His arms moved to Rosario's elbows, trying to leverage him away.
Rosario laughed at the attempt of fighting back, as if he actually thought that he could win against him. The fool never did know how to be subtle and bide his time. He was always rash and impudent. Not for the first time, Rosario cursed the circumstances that necessitated his turning of the pathetic waste of blood he held in his hands. A lesser, more irrational master vampire would have already killed him for his disobedience this night, and, in fact, Rosario was tempted to do just that, but the fact of the matter was that in a town with the most feared Slayer of all time he would need this moron, for bait and fodder if nothing else.
Still, Greg was trying to fight him and something like that just couldn't go unpunished. No need for any Alpha-male confusion in the ranks.
He brought back his fist and proceeded to slam it over and over again into his abdomen and ribcage, causing a lot of pain but only enough damage that he could be healed by tomorrow night.
A weapon with no use, was a useless weapon.
Rosario let go of Greg and watched as he slid to the floor in a fashion that made him look like every bone in his body had been destroyed.
Lovely thought.
Greg never knew such pain, not even when he died and shed his human shell was the pain as exquisite as it was now. He was nothing here. A pawn in someone else's game. He couldn't even pretend to think that he would ever call the shots again.
Suzy would pay for forcing him into this.
"Chan," Rosario called, "would you mind taking Greg over to Estella, and give her my blessings to do whatever she wants with him as long as he'll still be able to fight tomorrow night. He might come in handy as a shield in case the Slayer decides to rain on our parade.
Chan stood by the entrance looking on Greg's form in disgust. Rather then picked up Greg's pathetic carcass he motioned for Angus to do it and followed Rosario to the balcony. Once there, he asked, "But Master, wouldn't it be more beneficial to hunt for the girl now. She has a tendency to run away whenever he shows up at her doorstep.
Rosario held a wine glass of blood that he had picked up from his chair and sniffed its contents gently, savoring its aroma. "This is La Boca del Infierno, Chan, or the Hellmouth for those of us less able to speak Spanish."
"Yes. I remember." Rosario noted the slight hint of anger, in Chan's voice. No matter how much time passed he never seemed able to get over his hate of California, Rosario mused.
"Well, the thing is, events don't tend to just happen here by coincidence. If she was drawn here, then that means something wants her here… To seek the Slayer's aid would be my personal guess."
"It could just be a coincidence, Master."
"First of all, Chan, stop calling me Master. The others are not around and you have been my equal for a very long time now."
"I will never be your equal, Rosario. We both know that."
With anyone else, Rosario would just assume that he was being manipulated in order to be put off guard. But not with Chan. He wasn't the type for such manipulations. At least not with him. Chan could have left this brood a long time ago, and Rosario would never have thought the lesser of him; in fact, he would have applauded him. But despite the many opportunities, Chan never swayed in his loyalty. Such loyalty was rare even among humans, but among their darker brethren, the vampires, it was valued over gold and diamonds. Normally fear and the sire bond were the only things that kept such a group together.
Such bonds were fragile. As defenseless as a glass house with stones being thrown at it.
Among the others, Chan was his subordinate. Here in private, he was his confidante and most trusted ally.
"You sell yourself short, Chan. We both truly know that after this venture you will leave and begin your own family. And a powerful one it shall be." Rosario didn't have to be looking at Chan to sense the smile. As proud as he was of Angus and Estella, it was Chan who would be the true testament to his legacy. In his eyes, he was the only one to have surpassed him.
"And anyway, you are forgetting our place in this universe. We are, quote, "The Bad Guys", unquote. God, Buddha, the Fates, the Forces of Good, the Powers That Be, or whatever the hell else you want to call the annoying people upstairs who are in charge of keeping the status quo, are going to throw everything in the books at us. That includes the Slayer. Make no mistake, Chan. This is endgame. Our last stand."
"If you truly believe in that, then why are we here anyway. There's no point in going against such a foe, if the Gods themselves are behind them."
"You are forgetting one other thing, Chan. Nothing, and I mean nothing is guaranteed. Prophecies are only possible outcomes, not absolute truths. We have obstacles of epic proportions in our future, to be sure, but we shall overcome. I have trained and taught all of you to not be limited by your darker natures and personal vendettas. We are prepared and shall do all that is necessary to win. It's time for a change and we shall be the harbingers of that change."
Chan remained quiet. Rosario was perhaps the greatest vampire to ever walk this earth, and he considered him an equal. If this was supposed to be the grounds of their rebirth, then so be it.
******To*Be*Continued******
Well folks, what do you think. I have spent a lot of time in creating my villains. Welcome to the horrors of my mind.
In other news, I plan on working on chapter 3 of "Where Do I Fit in Your Life?" next and I have the workings of a Batman Beyond novel that's been floating around my head ever since I saw the unedited version of "Return of the Joker"; although, I doubt I'll ever get to that soon. By the way, screw Luke Skywalker, The Joker was mark Hamill's greatest role EVER. May none argue with me.
Back to story stuff… It all goes down hill from here on in, for the Xandman.
Wicked Raygun
--You think you know ... what you are ... what's to come. You haven't even begun.--
Rudolph Martin as Dracula in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"
