Shaddyr's Eclectic Collection Pretender Fanfiction Buffy Fanfiction Shaddyr Convergence
Convergence
part 3
by
Shaddyr
*********************
The Magic Box
Sunday Afternoon
*********************
Trying to stifle a yawn, Giles reflected that it was a typical Sunday afternoon
for the Scoobies. Anya was counting the money. Dawn was helping put a new
shipment of inventory away and holding items with a high 'ick' factor at arms
length while doing so. Xander, clad in puffy suit, was serving as Buffy's
target, as was evidenced by the steady 'whump' and 'thud' sounds emanating
from the training room. And finally, he and Willow were trying to decipher
exactly what the 'Convergence' was so that when it arrived they could recognize
it and be able to save the world. Again.
The bell on the door tinkled gently. He looked up to find Jarod approaching
him with the armful of books he'd taken last night. The dark haired man carefully
placed the fragile tomes on the table. Giles glanced at the books, and then
looked up into the man's face in astonishment.
"You don't mean to say you read *all* of those last night?"
Jarod's lips quirked up on one side in a small smile. "No. I read some of
them this morning."
Giles' eyebrows threatened to crawl right off his forehead and get lost in
his hair. "Good heavens, man! The hours we could have saved…" He shook his
head. "Well, no matter now. Did you find anything relevant?"
Jarod sat on the bench beside Giles and grabbed the third book in the pile.
He flipped a few pages until he came to some arcane text. "I translated what
I could from the Latin. This definitely refers to a Convergence. It mentions
a portal and the Centre. I am assuming the portal is the Hellmouth."
"That's quite likely," agreed the watcher.
Jarod pointed to the writing on the next page. "Some of this text is in a
language I've never seen before, though the script is familiar. I'm pretty
sure it's important."
Giles' brow furrowed in concentration as he studied the passage. A moment
later he spoke. "This is a very old dialect, but I believe that given a little
time I can make sense of it." The watcher picked up the book and carried it
with him into to his office without a backward glance.
Jarod watched him leave, bemused by the impromptu dismissal. Willow noticed
the look on the pretender's face and gave him a tentative smile.
"Don't mind him," she tried to explain. "Giles, um, sort of gets lost when
he gets caught up in his research."
Jarod nodded and gave her a half smile.
"Well, gotta figure this Convergence thingy out," she said as she returned
to her own work.
After a moment, he stood up, possessed by the overpowering need to move. This
entire situation was foreign to him. He was the one who did the research,
set up the elaborate stings and came up with the plan. There was nothing more
he could do here except read and point things out to Giles if he thought they
might be relevant, and let the older man decided if they were. Jarod didn't
even realize he was pacing until he found himself stopped short by Anya.
The diminutive blonde woman stood in front of him, crossed her arms and glared.
"Stop stomping around the shop. You're going to scare the customers away!"
He glanced around. "You don't have any customers at the moment."
One graceful eyebrow cocked high on her forehead. "That's not the point. If
I *did*, you would be scaring them away. So stop it." She looked him up and
down. "If you have too much energy, go hang out with Buffy and pummel something."
She indicated the door on the wall and he realized there must be a small gym
or something of the sort. It certainly explained the sounds coming through.
He turned to make his way to the door, and then stopped for a moment and glanced
back at her.
"Anya, can I ask you a question?"
"Yes." She waited.
"How did you deal with it?"
"Deal with what?"
"All of this," he indicated, waving a hand around in an all-encompassing motion.
"Vampires. Slayers. Demons. Prophecies. How did you deal with it?"
"Oh," she replied with an impish smile. "I didn't really have anything to
deal with."
Jarod resigned himself to the fact the he was probably going to spend the
rest of his time in Sunnydale puzzled and confused. " What do you mean?"
"Well," she answered, looking him right in the eyes, "up until a few years
ago I was a Vengeance Demon. What I'm dealing with is learning how to cope
with being human."
Jarod stared at her as he processed that little bit of information. He blinked.
"I think I'll go see what Buffy's up to."
From the doorway of the training room Jarod stood witness to a truly amazing
display. The tiny woman before him whirled through a series of kicks and punches
at phenomenal speed - he could barely see her move. The force of the blows
was obvious in the way her target staggered, even in his protective gear.
Unconsciously, Jarond closed his eyes and began to sim her. Everything he'd
read in the books Giles had loaned him, all the information the group had
supplied him with in the last 24 hours percolated through his brain. He found
himself suffused with energy, like an enormous adrenaline rush, but bigger,
more powerful - different. He could feel Purpose in him, like a living thing.
The Hunt, the Kill. All of his senses seemed to fine tune themselves. He opened
his eyes to find her sea green ones staring up at him.
"What…. are you doing?"
"Just trying to understand."
She looked at him askance. "Uh-huh." She picked up her water bottle and took
a long pull off it before setting it back down. "Is that what you were talking
about last night? Doing the Borg thing?"
"I'm sorry?"
She sat down on the floor mat and began stretching muscles. "Assimilating?"
He laughed. "No, you're thinking Star Trek. It's simulating. And yes."
"Whatever." She gave him a cocky glance. "So, does that mean you're me now?"
He couldn't help but smile. "You remind me of someone else I know."
Xander cleared his throat. "Hey, Buff, if you're done beating the snot out
of me, I wouldn't mind getting out of the StayPuft suit for today."
Jarod watched as she jumped up and helped the young man out of the protective
gear. "Thanks, Xander."
"Happy to having my stuffing kicked for the greater good," he replied. "I'm
off to whine about my many injuries." Xander's eyes held a mischievous twinkle.
"Anya will be more than happy to make it all better."
"TMI Xander," Buffy warned in a mock serious tone. The young man just laughed,
then walked out of the room, leaving Buffy and Jarod alone.
"So," Buffy began conversationally, "you know how to fight?"
Jarod walked over to the punching bag and assumed the classic boxer's pose
before it. "A little," he replied, throwing a punch at the bag.
She followed him over to the bag, eyeing his form critically. He threw a few
more punches as she watched. She sighed.
Jarod looked at her quizzically.
"Look. I've been fighting inhuman baddies for a few years now. Without a word
of a lie, you go up against one of them with *that*, and you are seriously
toast." Another sigh escaped her. "Looks like we have work to do."
******************
Sunday Afternoon
The Plaza Hotel
Sunnydale, California
******************
A cold cup of coffee and a half eaten sandwich sat before Parker on the table
She flipped through the yellow pages, jotting down the names and addresses
of hotels and motels. Sydney sat in a chair across from her, carefully going
through the newspaper for possible stories that might have piqued Jarod's
thirst for helping the downtrodden. So far they were batting zero.
Broots walked through the connecting door from the other room with a sheaf
of printouts in his hand. Parker looked up, and noticing the papers, held
out her hand. "Give."
He did so, then slid into a vacant chair beside her. "There is some seriously
weird stuff going on in this town, Miss Parker. I mean, Centre class weird!"
Sydney frowned. "Please elaborate, Broots."
He quickly ran a hand through his scant hair before looking over at the psychiatrist.
"I started looking for anything about unusual occurrences in graveyards here,
as well as any references to a Convergence. I didn't find anything on the
latter, but…" he gestured to the papers Miss Parker now held. "You wouldn't
believe this stuff! First of all, it just so happens that graves in this town
get disturbed - a lot. Fresh ones especially. They have these holes right
in the middle of them, like someone was trying to tunnel down the coffin.
Talk about creepy! And did you know that Sunnydale has the highest rate of
disappearances in the country? And unexplained deaths. You would wonder why
juicy facts like that don't end up on the front page of the Enquirer. But
they just don't." His face took on a serious expression. "It's almost like
a Centre town - weird stuff happens, people just vanish, reports are filled
and it's like the police just kind of... forget about them. And not just that.
Some of the stories that *have* made it into the papers - well, the eyewitness
reports could only be explained by some sort of a hallucinogenic agent or
mass hypnosis."
"You mean like the Mayor turning into a snake?" The disbelief was evident
in Parker's voice as she continued to read through the printouts.
"Yeah," Broots agreed. "And that's just one of many strange stories, though
I must admit it kinda topped out my weird-o-meter. Right up there with the
story about some demon that got into the Internet."
"People claim there are demons and vampires running rampant here? And there
is some kind of 'Vampire Hunter' who saves the day?" She snorted in derision
and looked up at the two men. "Are we absolutely certain the LA branch of
the Centre is *not* drugging the water supply and running experiments on the
locals?"
Sydney steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair as he spoke. "If
something untoward is taking place in this town - and the evidence certainly
seems to indicate that is so - people want an explanation. If one cannot be
found, there are those who will seek one that fits their perception of the
facts, no matter how absurd."
"Fabulous. We're trapped in an episode of the X-Files." She snorted again,
then trust the papers back at Broots. "Okay, things that go bump in the night
aside, obviously something is going on here. I would hazard a guess that's
what got our boy's attention." Parker looked at her list for a moment, then
back up at her companions.
"Broots - you gather any background information you can find on the most recent
disappearances, or people who've died in mysterious circumstances. We can
sniff around their homes, places of work. Maybe we'll luck out and catch boy
wonder in the middle of a Pretend somewhere, but I'm not going to hold my
breath. Syd - hit all these hotels and motels. Find out if anyone's seen our
boy."
Syd raised an eyebrow. "And yourself, Miss Parker?" he inquired as the three
of them rose from the table.
Parker grabbed her jacket and her bag before glancing over at him. "There
are a few things I want to look into - alone." She grabbed the car keys off
the top of the TV set as she walked to the door.
"But, Miss Parker! How are we supposed to get anywhere?"
She almost giggled at the picture of consternation that Broots presented.
"C'mon Scoobie doo. Are you telling me you've never heard of public transportation?"
The look on his face made her chuckle all the way to the car.
*********
"Can't you do any better than that?"
Jarod angrily wiped away the perspiration that was streaming down his face,
then spun around, executing a nasty snap kick. Into empty space. Buffy snagged
his ankle and yanked hard, sending him sprawling onto the mat. Again. He glared
up at her, very nearly sulking.
"Well you're improving a little," she judged as she turned to grab her water
bottle. "But you still-"
Jarod lunged off the mat and tackled her from behind, knocking her to the
floor. His victory was short lived however. She squirmed around under him
and used her feet to send him flying into the wall.
Buffy gave him and approving nod "Now you're getting the idea." She shot to
her feet. "Vamps and demons don't play fair, and neither should you."
The sparring session had been going on for the better part of an hour. Though
Jarod understood on an intellectual level the woman before him was of greatly
enhanced sped, strength and endurance, it had been difficult to actually hit
her. The very thorough trouncing he was receiving at her hands was helping
to change his mind, but he'd still been trying to 'play fair'. She'd told
him not to - and she certainly hadn't. Tackling her when she wasn't looking
offended his sense of honour. But he had to admit that after being used as
a punching bag for the last 60 minutes, it had definitely felt good.
"Ready to go?" she challenged, and he answered her with wicked grin.
He rose to his feet and squared off against her again, slipping into a relaxed
fighting stance as they circled each other on the mat. He'd never been a big
fighter - no need when he could win most of his battle with stealth, intelligence
and well-planned stings, but he'd spent some time learning the basics. Facing
off against Buffy showed him that he was indeed woefully prepared for physical
confrontation.
He studied her, the way she moved, the way she carried her body, and learned.
He soaked it all up, committing it to memory, and incorporated it into his
own reactions. It was poetry in motion. He smiled at the thought.
"A penny for them."
"Hmm?"
She feinted right, then jabbed left, grazing his chest as he rolled with the
punch.
"What are you thinking?"
She aimed a spinning kick at his head, but he ducked low and swept her leg
from under her. She hit the mat and rolled back to her feet in one smooth
motion.
"It just occurred to me," he mused as he responded with a punch and kick combination
of his own which she narrowly avoided, "that this fighting… it's kind of like
we're dancing."
Jarod was surprised at the dark look that unexpectedly clouded her face. Surprise
turned to shock when she unleashed a suddenly flurry of brutal kicks and punches.
He blocked and twisted but it was too much, too fast. A foot connected with
his head, a fist rammed into his kidney and suddenly he was down on the mat
hard with a blond spitfire hovering over him, fury just barely checked. He
felt a trickle of blood seeping from above his eye.
"This is *not* just for fun! It's life and death," she growled at him, then
stomped across the room and grabbed a towel. He sat up painfully and watched
her. She stood still for a moment then let out a big sigh and came back over
to him.
"Here." She sat down beside him and dabbed at the blood with the towel. "I
got a little carried away."
He winced as she touched a raw spot. "I noticed."
"I'm sorry." She spoke quietly, but the remorse was evident in her voice.
He gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll live." He looked at her inquisitively.
"I'd rather not get pounded on again, but... could you please tell me what
I did?"
Buffy sighed. "It's not you. I just kinda have an issue with the whole dancing
thing." At his mystified look, she explained. "Back when Spike was chipless,
that's what he used to call it. A dance. We would fight, I would kick his
ass and he would come back for more. Our little dance."
"So, why didn't you ever kill him?"
"Oh, at first he always managed to slip away before I could get a stake into
him. Then, when he was in the wheelchair, it would have been too easy."
"Wheelchair?"
"Long story. Anyway, it wasn't long after that he got chipped. And he came
to us for help. Staking him then would have been fish in a barrel territory."
Her expression grew pensive. "There are times when I wish I had though… 'cuz
we're still dancing, but now it's one I don't know the steps to."
Jarod studied the woman before him, and things began to jell. It was strange,
but it didn't really surprise him when he thought about it. The Slayer and
the vampire. It really wasn't all that different from what he and Miss Parker
had; hunter and hunted - and more. He loved his huntress. Should it really
be so odd that the vampire loved the Slayer? It looked like Parker and Buffy
had a bit more in common then attitude and witty lines.
He shifted and unsteadily got to his feet, the Slayer popping up beside him.
"Are you sure your okay?" she asked.
"I'm sure. Just sore."
"Wanna go again tomorrow?"
"Yes." He gave her a grin. "And I promise to never to talk about dancing again."
Their laughter filled the air as they left the room.
*************
Parker walked along the beach, enjoying the sounds of the surf, the warmth
of the sun. She slipped her shoes off and let the sand squish between her
toes. It had been a long time since she'd been able to do something like that.
As she studied the area, she realized that it resembled the beach in her dream.
Nearby was a children's playground. A lovely park stretched out behind the
playground. She left the sand and stepped onto the cool grass. After a moment,
she threw her sandals back on and strolled through it.
As she walked, her thoughts turned back to Jarod. Was boy wonder even here
or was she just on some kind of wild goose chase? Things were certainly back
to normal as far as appearances went. Unfortunately, it seemed whenever she
thought of Jarod these days, her heart traitorous heart reminded her of the
aborted kiss in front of Ocee's fire. And the look of pain in his face when
she'd pulled her hands from his in the back of the Towncar at the airport.
Like she needed more complications in her already fucked up life.
Pulling herself from her reverie, she realized that she'd walked several blocks
from the beach. She was about to turn around when she saw something that made
the hair at the back of her neck stand on end. It was the graveyard from her
dream.
"This just keeps getting weirder," she mused.
Steeling up her resolve, Parker headed into the graveyard, wandering between
the markers that stood in mute testament to those who lay buried there. It
was deserted, almost peaceful. As she walked, the old marble and granite headstones
and crosses gave way to the newer flat markers that made mowing the grass
in a cemetery so much easier. She found herself walking faster as she approached
the outer perimeter of the graveyard, feeling as though there were somewhere
she needed to be. She reached the street that ran in front of the graveyard
and stopped. A little ways down on the other side of the road was the burnt
out wreckage of what appeared to have once been a school. A high fence surrounded
it, locked up with chains. Parker felt a chill go through her. There was something
about this place, something that wasn't good. She felt both drawn and repulsed,
an internal war waging within her.
*I need to get out of here…*
There were few things that truly frightened Miss Parker. She'd faced Raines,
a T-Board, her psycho brother, death - but something about that place scared
her on a level that she'd never experienced before. Parker spun around and
ran away from the place as fast as her legs could carry her.
The most frightening thing of all was that she could almost swear she heard
her father laughing.
Part 4
