Title: The Rogues

Author: Dark Jester

Characters: F/OC X/Wi

Summary: AU. A different incarnation of the Scooby Gang.

Email: LrdGreystoke80@aol.com

Site: Fanfiction.com(Darkjester1),

Feedback: If you like it, tell a friend. If you hate it, tell an enemy. Also, I am always open to suggestions on how to improve myself as a writer.

Note: For the next few chapters I will be jumping around a bit time wise explaining why they are as they are.

At the corner of Grant and Vincent, in a bad part of town, sat a broken down house. While at one time it had been a beautiful example of architecture, that had been a long time ago. Now, it was little more than a building, barely suitable for it's current occupants: crack dealers. A succession of dealers had used the house, depending on who was in power in the neighborhood at the time. This was one of the main reasons the area had declined. Inside the house, eleven individuals occupied various rooms: seven men and four women. In one room a dealer sat alone, transferring the various bills into packs ranging from $100 for the singles to $10,000 for the hundreds. Behind him there was an opening in the wall, form which could be seen neat packs of crack cocaine and coke, with the odd brown heroin thrown in for variety.

The living room was occupied by three of the women and four men. Six had paired off and were involved in amorous activities. The odd man out sat in front of the TV, watching an anime with the volume turned up loud, in part to drown out the noises come from the couples. There had been several noise complaints from the neighbors, most whom were hard working people just wanting a good night sleep before getting up early the next morning for work. Unfortunately, the police no longer bothered, since the dealers paid the fines and went back to disturbing the public. The high volume, however, worked against the violent gang bangers tonight, since no body heard someone slide through a basement window, nor someone enter through a hole in the roof.

Two of the rooms upstairs rooms were occupied. In one a man and a women were in the middle of an intimate activity, very loudly. In an adjacent room slept Big Bop, the leader. He had been trying to sleep for the last hour but was being kept awake by the activities next door.

"Would you two fuckers hurry up and come?" BB yelled, throwing a boot at the wall. A moment later the noise stopped. "Finally." BB turned his massive frame over and started drifting off to sleep when he heard a dripping sound. "What is it now? I'm serious, whoever's causing that is going to get their ass fucked up." Getting up, he padded out his door and turned right, towards the other room. When he reached the door he forced the door open. He found what was making the dripping sound. What he saw in that room almost made the violent 24 year old throw up. He didn't have any time to comprehend the scenario before him, however. Part of the shadow behind him detached itself from the wall and covered his mouth with one hand. Before BB could react the shadow had used his other hand to draw a short knife deeply across his throat, slitting both the windpipe and main artery. The killer then dropped the gang banger, leaving him to literally drown in his own blood. He wasn't worried about the noise, since the TV was up so loud.

On the main floor the occupants were oblivious to the happenings upstairs. The counting man in the room by himself should have faced the door while doing his duties. He might have seen the figure attired head to toe in charcoal grey walk lightly behind him. If he had been more attentive he might have noticed when the shape was directly behind him. By the time he did notice he wasn't alone it was too late, as the shape already had one arm around his throat and the other braced behind his head. With a powerful wrench, the counter's neck bent to an unnatural angle. The shape then walked to the door, peering around the corner to see if anyone had noticed. The were still oblivious. Backing away slowly, it walked to the fuse box and opened. It then pulled out a small walkie talkie. Having put the ear plug in before mask it merely plugged the cord into the communicator.

"Is the upstairs clear?" it said softly.

"All the hostiles have been neutralized." answered an equally low voice. "What about your target?"

"He has a bad neck. Power about to be extinguished in ten seconds."

"I'll be ready. Over."

The shape then disconnected the communicator and placed his thumb on the main switch. Counting to ten he flicked the switch as he began moving. He could hear voices from the next room but he ignored them. As he entered the room he drew a short curved sword from the folds of his sleeve. As he exited the room he kneeled and swung, catching the man who had been coming to check the breaker box across the lower stomach. As the man's insides exited his body the figure stood to continue.

On the other side of the room the matching figure went down the stairs as soon as the lights went out. Reaching into his sleeve he withdrew a long throwing blade. Walking up to the first man he came into contact with he covered the man's mouth as he simultaneously slid the blade between the man's ribs, into the heart. Pulling it out, he then threw it, catching another man lost in the dark through the lower back. As the man fell the dark shape withdrew a sword similar to his fellow assassin. As he walked over the fallen man, he switched his grip to an underhand and rammed the blade down, through the dealers back, silencing his screams.

As this was going on, the other occupants of the room were trying to escape. Anime man grabbed the door knob and pulled. Imagine his surprise when he found the door wouldn't move. Someone had chained the opposite handle to one of the porch supports. When he turned to try the back door he was met with two blades, one taking his head from his shoulders, the other nailing him to the door. The whole job, from the beginning, had taken less than seven minutes.

The two figures then turned to survey the room. Of the three women, two had fainted, the others were to the pairs right, cowering in a corner. The one closest to the counting room turned to enter it again while his companion reached overhead behind his back, withdrawing a pistol. Aiming, he shot both of them. As their bodies hit the floor, the figures moved to them, removing the darts he had shot. He repeated the shoot and retrieve with the two unconscious women just to be on the safe side. Turning, he entered the counting room as well.

As he entered he saw that his companion was removing the drugs from the wall, placing them in on the opposite side of the table from the drugs. As the other was doing this, began placing the wrapped cash in a backpack, then placed the unbound bills in as well. When his companion was finished he placed the drugs in an identical charcoal backpack. When both jobs were completed the two carried the bags into the main room, dropping them as they entered. The two turned to each other, pushing their masks up, revealing their faces. The two grinned at each other.

"We're good." Xander said in a bad Irish accent.

"Yes we are." James said in an equally bad accent.

"This one was a lot easier than the last two."

James shrugged. "Maybe we're getting better. We've been doing this how long now?"

Xander thought for a minute. "Say about year and a half."

James looked at Xander. He seemed to be thinking about something. "What's the matter, Xander? What's bothering you?"

"I've just been thinking about something lately. Does doing this ever bother you?"

James thought for a moment. "Not really. Why, does it bother you?"

"No. That kind of bothers me, though. Shouldn't I feel something about killing?"

"You want to quit? I won't think any less of you if you do."

"Hey, I didn't say anything about quitting. Besides, we're in this together. All for one and one for all."

At this, they grinned and bumped fists.

James leaned against the door frame, thinking. "Let me ask you; do you think any of these guys would have been punished?"

"Probably not. They'd just get off for a technicality."

"Okay, now answer this. Are these men going to hurt anyone anymore?"

"I can honestly say that that will probably not be happening."

"So you see, we just made the world a slightly better place for 6 minutes of work."

Xander grinned. "Plus the pays good."

"That it is. That it is. Speaking of that, lets search the house. Might be something worth keeping."

The two the searched the house, finding more money in the dead mens pockets, along with a few pieces of jewelry they could fence. Ten minutes later they met again in the living room.

"What should we do about them?" Xander asked, indicating the women.

"I don't think we should leave them here. Wouldn't be right."

"Back yard?"

"Back yard."

Before the friends could leave the house there was one more thing they had to do. As James moved the girls and the backpacks into the back yard, Xander went into the basement. Unzipping the small fanny pack he had, he proceeded to set up an object in the middle of the basement. After, he placed similar objects at the four corners before climbing the stairs. As he got near the back door he donned the mask again, in case any neighbors were watching. Seeing James across the lawn he joined him.

"So time to go home?"

"I'll meet you there. I'm going to go visit my parents. It is their anniversary after all."

"You want some company?"

"Thanks man, no. I think I'd rather be alone with them. Plus, one of us has to get home before the girls do."

"Can't have them getting suspicious. I'll drop the drugs off at the Police Station before school tomorrow."

"Alright. I'll hide the money at the cabin on my way home."

"Peace."

"Later."

The two disappeared into the shadows of the trees. A minute later the five timers went off, setting off the five bundles of dynamite in the basement. Two minutes after that all that was left of the house was a pile of rubble. The two had begun doing this when Xander had realized that the house would just continue being used by dealers. This kept this from happening.