Disclaimer: Joss, WB, UPN et al. own Buffy. Capcom owns Devil May Cry, and DMC 2. I don't.
Title: Better the Devil You Know…
Author: Paradigm Shifter
Feedback: I guess I'm reduced to begging again, hmm? Please?
Rating: R.
Notes: Spending entirely too much time on my secret project; BotS, BotD. Haven't spent much time on this for a couple of weeks…
Crossover: Devil May Cry / Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Continuity: DMC1, not 2 (except for a few enemies). Xander's road trip. That's pretty much it. Enjoy.
*
It was raining.
Not soft rain. This was the type that didn't just land gently on your clothes, then soak through and make you wish that you were at home in the warm and dry. Oh no. This rain pounded on every available surface, a staccato drum roll that never ended, it seemed to be saying, 'buddy, if you thought the flood in the bible was bad, damn, you ain't seen nothing yet…' and it had the power to prove it. It rumbled on the pier, and sounded like an earthquake in the ears of everyone who heard it. Overflowing from gutters and pouring off roofs as if each molecule was in a race to reach the ground first. It had long since soaked the two people walking on the pier through, matting their hair to their heads, but neither attempted to shield himself from the element gone mad. Both new it would be futile.
Dante and Xander walked onto the pier to see a ship bobbing up and down in the rough and quickly swelling waters. Both could see that the ship itself had seen better days, and the captain was obviously more worried about the amount of green lining his pockets than looking after an otherwise seaworthy craft.
A burly man with a short scruffy beard eyed the two of them with distaste as they walked toward the ship, and blocked their way as they attempted to walk up the gangplank.
"What's your business here, boys?" he asked with a voice gruff from too much salt and even more shouting.
Dante pulled out a letter, and waved it at the man who snatched it out of the air and read it carefully, eyes squinting at the words, as if they might change unless he watched them carefully.
Finally, he pulled his head back and thrust out the letter, handing it back to Dante.
"Right. You the pickup for Nathan, then." He coughed. "I'll be glad to see the back of him, I'll tell ya that for nowt…"
A cultured voice echoed over the deck behind them. "And I would have you know, Jenkins, that I will be equally glad to see Terra Firma after this rat infested, mobile dung skip."
Xander and Dante turned to the voice, and Dante watched in shocked silence as Xander charged forward and pinned the man with as much force as possible to the door he had just exited from.
The man exclaimed in pain. "Oh! I say! Can't you American types master any self-control? The Watchers Council will take this matter very seriously if you do not let me go right this instant!" He was red faced, from a combination of Xander's arm over his neck and anger at being treated in such a way.
Xander growled out to Dante, "I don't know who on earth this guy should be, but he isn't who he says he is! This is Ethan Rayne, Dante!" He turned his face back to the Chaos mage. "And I promised myself that I'd get even with you…"
In between choking, the man slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device. As it touched Xander's ribs, he was flung backwards and landed with a loud clang against a container ready for unloading. He fell to the deck and lay there, groaning.
The man brushed himself down carefully, making sure not to miss a single piece of lint, paying no attention to the pouring rain. "Now then…" he said in a overly friendly tone, "maybe we can put this unpleasant episode behind us and deal with the matter at hand." He walked over to Xander, and pulled him to his feet. Before Xander could attack him again, he spoke.
"I am not Ethan Rayne, young man. I am Nathan, the man you were instructed to pick up. It is unfortunate, however, that you have run afoul of my twin. It means trust between the two of us will be something that has to be earned, rather than accepted from the word go."
Xander scowled, but nodded.
"Excellent." Nathan Rayne nodded to himself, and smiled disarmingly at Xander. "I hope that our job will be complete soon… however, I would like to state for the record, Dante:" he turned to address the named man, "I wish to fly home. While I get both Sea- and Air- sick, airsickness lasts a far shorter time…" humour danced in his eyes for a second, before an impenetrable wall slammed down on his emotions.
Xander couldn't help but laugh quietly at the flip comment. Hey, it was true.
"Shall we depart, gentlemen?" asked Nathan as he stepped carefully down the gangplank. "I fear that we must get to Sunnydale as soon as possible. It will not be necessary to head to Seattle first, I have everything I need right here…"
Dante followed the man, and Xander followed him. Dante spoke, "we were going to meet up with another of our associates in Seattle… just in case we need backup."
Nathan turned to Dante. "Oh, come now, for a man of your… obvious… talents, this should be easy."
Dante couldn't help but feel a cold shiver run down his back at that comment. It implied that the Council knew a lot more than they were telling. This did not bode well…
At least they did not seem to know about Xander.
Yet.
*
"Where are we looking for again, Dante?" Xander asked as he scanned the buildings to either side of the road they were driving down.
Dante rolled his eyes as he drove, but answered again. "You, Xander, are looking for a small restaurant called 'Min Ho Duck's All-Night Eatery'"
He saw the strange look that the words gathered him. "What? The guys unhinged, even by our standards. But I helped him out a while back…"
"What did you do, give him a lobotomy?" muttered Nathan, but both Xander and Dante acted like they hadn't heard it, although they had.
For a few minutes more, they drove in silence, only broken by the noise of the cars around them.
Xander pointed suddenly to the side of the road. "There!"
"Good eye, Xander." Said Dante as he twisted the steering wheel, and with a complete disregard for either his passengers or the other traffic, made a sharp u-turn and pulled up outside the front of the small fronted restaurant.
The three began to get out, but Dante turned and pointed Ebony nonchalantly a Nathan. "Nuh uh. You, buddy, stay right here."
Nathan looked daggers at him. "You may try to set me up. It will not be the first time for something like that."
Dante scowled. "I've never even seen you before, idiot." He sighed. "Look, just pretend that we had the argument and that I won. It'll be less painful for you in the long run."
Nathan leaned forward. "And if I don't?"
Dante grinned evilly. "Then we'll just see how well you rock with us with a bullet through each knee."
With that, he got out of the car and hit the 'lock' button on the key-chain dongle. If Nathan tried to get out, the car alarm would go off.
He made sure his back was to the car. "Come on, Xand… lets go meet Trish."
Xander nodded silently, and show one last distrustful look at the Ethan Rayne look-alike.
That was just too freaky. One a Chaos mage, one a Watcher.
Damn, the family reunions must be interesting…
*
Nathan sat in the car. He knew full well that if he tried to get out, the alarm would go off, and as he didn't realise that Dante had rented the car, he didn't know that it would do something else.
Like blow up.
He pulled out a small mobile phone, and looked at it with distaste.
"The things I do for King and Country…"
Dialling a number from memory, Nathan held it up to his ear. When the other end picked up, he spoke into the microphone.
"I am encountering more resistance from Mr. Dante than anticipated. We may have to use… alternative methods of persuasion. Please upload the files to my laptop as soon as possible. We also have another Devil, possibly female, and one that… I'm not quite certain of. If you could get me the files on him too, it would be most helpful. His name is Alexander Harris."
The phone snapped shut, and Nathan opened his briefcase.
As he opened the lid of a laptop, a command prompt blinked at him slowly. He scowled at the computer, as if it had done him a mortal wrong, and then watched as a progress indicator crept its way to 100.
He pressed a few buttons, and swore in the quiet of the car.
It was worse than he thought.
*
Dante and Xander walked through the entrance, and a short Chinese man walked up to them, with a slight bounce to his step. He smiled, and turned away, heading toward the back of the restaurant. He gestured for both of them to follow him.
Xander took lead, while Dante looked around at the new décor. "You've certainly done something special to this place since I was last here, Min… it looks like one high class place…" he smiled lopsidedly. "Shame about the name."
Min made a windmill motion with his hand, to indicate that Xander and Dante should precede him through the door he was standing by. Xander ran his hand through his soaking wet hair, spraying the area around him and stepped through.
Trish sat behind a small table, her long hair tied back in a braid, which was hung forward over her shoulder. She stood as Xander entered, and held a finger up to her lips with a devilish look on her face.
"Nice hairstyle…" smirked Xander before he nodded, and blocked Dante's vision while Trish moved round the table to the wall.
Dante stepped into the room and was met by two hands covering his eyes. "Guess who?" a seductive voice asked quietly in his ear.
Dante smiled. "Well…" he said, "right now, I'm just praying that it isn't Xander…"
Xander's voice floated across the room, his eyes locked with Trish's. "Funny, Dante."
Dante's grin widened. "So, given that Xander can't throw his voice, and it's coming from over there," he waved his hand to Xander's approximate location, "it just has to be Trish."
He reached backwards, and ran his hands over Trish's hips and waist. Finally, he turned to face her. As he did so, her arms stayed where they were, and finally tightened round his neck as he leaned in.
Then he pulled back.
Trish looked at him, disappointed. "Aww…"
Dante shook his head. "Sorry, Trish, but we have more important things to worry about now. Like the watchers Council; for example. Trish," he locked eyes with her, deadly serious, "they know about me, and possibly you. So it can't be long before they find out about Xander."
"Wonderful." Trish replied sarcastically. "And how much do they know, exactly?"
"I don't know. To ask that would be admitting what I am, and frankly, around them, I really don't want to solidify any of their ideas."
Trish looked thoughtful. "So what are we going to do?"
Dante turned to face Xander. "Me and Xander are going with Nathan to Sunnydale. I don't want you to come with us, even though you've finished the job…"
"Actually," said Trish, "I haven't finished. The next lead takes me to Sunnydale anyway. Someone stole a scroll from the Library of the Ancients in Cairo. They were spotted boarding a plane for LA, and the tail I put on her when she arrived says she's currently in Sunnydale." Her face took on a vengeful look. "I want that bitch! No one throws me out of a seventeen storey window!"
Dante wisely kept silent. Xander wasn't quite so sensible. "She threw you out of a seventeen storey window?! How the hell did she do that? She catch you by surprise or something?"
Trish rounded on Xander, and for a second, Xander realised that he should have kept quiet. Then he shrugged. What's done is done.
Trish quietly seethed, and then finally took a deep breath. "Yes!" She admitted forcefully, "OK, yes! She caught me by surprise! She stuck me full of so much damn venom it would have taken out a blue whale!"
She hit the table. "And I want to get her back!"
Dante stood silent through the tirade. "Is she human?" He asked quietly.
Trish calmed slightly. "No. Not unless humans have succeeded in making skin that doesn't burn in an inferno that even forced me out."
"OK," nodded, Dante, "I was just checking. I know how you get when you're like this."
Trish scowled, but nodded.
Xander stepped toward the door. "Hadn't we better get a move on, Dante? Don't want Nathan to get nervous." He grinned.
Dante nodded, and turned to Trish before speaking. "You'll have to make your own way to Sunnydale. And be prepared for damage control if something goes wrong."
Trish nodded. "Right."
Xander fixed her with a stare. "And when you meet my friends, don't let them know I'm back in town. I want to tell them myself."
"When?" both Dante and Trish asked at the same time.
Xander shook his head. "Look, when your in Sunnydale, the only things certain are vampires, apocalypses, and running into the Scooby gang when you don't want to."
"But I don't even know what they look like!" protested Trish, "What, I'm going to go around telling everyone I meet, 'Xander's back in town!'"
"No," said Xander levelly, "they are the ones you'll run into if your chasing a Big Bad in Sunnydale. It's a given. They're the only ones crazy enough to be out at night…"
"Oh…"
Xander turned away through the door. "Forget it."
Dante smiled at Trish. "See you in a few…"
"Yeah, Dante. But this isn't looking as good any more…"
*
Xander sat in the front seat of the hired car, looking out of the window at the world with an expression similar to a cat when it isn't hungry and it's just seen its owner. In other words: bored.
Nathan was sitting in the back, bitching about the distinct lack of legroom, and Dante was busy trying to carve up an eighteen-wheeler.
Finally, Xander looked round at Dante with annoyance. "Do you think you could stop trying to kill us before we actually get to Sunnydale? It's gonna be bad enough there as it is!"
Dante pulled a face, but acquiesced. "Alright, Xan."
Xander nodded, and turned back to the window.
As his mind wondered, he thought back to the last conversation he had ever had with his friends in Sunnydale…
~
[Flashback]
"Xander, why do you have to go on this 'road trip' anyway?" Buffy said with irritation in her voice.
Xander sighed, but his smile remained on his face. "I just… want to get away from all this for a while, Buffy. I've had enough of life on the Hellmouth for a few months, and I want to see the sites. Preferably while still alive and breathing."
Buffy put her hands on her hips. Normally, this would be cue for Xander to start drooling, but today, he was feeling put upon, and couldn't have cared less. "And so you're gonna leave us shorthanded on the Hellmouth." Her volume increased. "If anything major comes along, I hope you're happy, because we probably wont be around to much longer!"
Xander spun to face her, an alien feeling in the pit of his stomach. "What is this, all of a sudden, Buffy?! Less than six months ago you were telling me to have a real life, that 'we don't want you getting hurt' and a lot of other crap that was designed to push me away!" he stepped dangerously close to the Slayer's personal space. "Well, next time you decide who's useless around here, check your facts first! You would all be dead…" His mind overpowered his anger for a few fractions of a second, and bit down on the rest of the sentence. No point in telling them if they didn't know. Why spoil their delusions?
"Dead what, Xander?" Buffy was practically toe to toe with him now, before snarling at him, "you know what? I was right once… you are useless!"
Xander backed off, his anger subsiding as words left Buffy's lips that she would never be able to take back. "Forget it." He said angrily. Then he began to walk away. "You know what? Just forget everything. You can finish patrol by yourself tonight, Slayer…" He snarled the word, almost under his breath, "I'm sure you don't need me getting in your way…"
With that, he turned and nearly ran off.
~
Xander arrived at his basement in less than a quarter of an hour. He looked down at his phone to see the message light blinking. He rolled his eyes, but hit the 'play' button anyway.
Willow's angry voice came over the speaker, losing some of its venom over the tinny electronics, but still plainly out for vengeance. [Xander, it's Willow. I just want to know what you said to Buffy to get her so wound up that she is now crying in our dorm room! I want you to come here and apologise! Right now mister!]
The machine beeped, and Giles voice came on. [Xander.] His tone was severe. [I am uncertain whether I should involve myself in matters such as this, but I wish to know what you said to Buffy. She was none too coherent over the telephone.]
Xander slapped his forehead with his hand in a theatrical fashion. "It only happened a quarter of an hour ago! How can she get this stuff around so fast, but conveniently forget about Angel for weeks?"
Deciding that now was as good a time as any, Xander began to take pictures and posters off the wall and peel carefully taped plastic bags off of the back. He emptied all the bags onto his bed, and began to count.
"Hmm… coupla grand… enough to get me far enough away for comfort… but not to let me never come back. Damn." He opened his wardrobe, and picked a claw hammer up from the bottom. "I don't have any choice."
He knelt by his carpet, and flicked it up. Working quickly, he levered up one of the creaky floorboards, and reached underneath. When he pulled his arm out, he had a medium sized wooden box in his hand. He opened it, and it creaked in protest. Two lovingly wrapped first edition comics came out first, followed by some slightly less valuable ones, that weren't in such good condition. In the bottom, was more money. He quickly tipped that onto the bed as well, and returned the comics to the box.
"Fifteen hundred more…" Xander mused quietly to himself. "I should be OK. And I've got Uncle Rory's car, so I don't have to worry about that…"
Xander returned his room to the state that it had been before, and sat on his bed. The problem with living in a house with two alcoholics that didn't work was this: any money that was easily found quickly got converted into a bottle. And almost as swiftly, an empty bottle. Even possessions got pawned every now and again. He had learnt that lesson well after one of his prized comics went missing when he was younger.
Now he just had to hope that none of the Scooby gang would come hunting for his apology. Because it wasn't going to happen.
With money secreted in every pocket he had, and even tucked into the sides of his socks, and the torn lining of a jacket, Xander packed what he thought he would need. Get, while the getting was good, said his mind, and he agreed.
Minutes later, he pinned a short note to the basement door with the only thing he could find available, a paring knife, and walked out to his car. As he turned the ignition, he spoke to the world.
"Goodbye, Sunnydale."
[End Flashback]
*