The Paladin Project 2 - Doubts & Decisions
"Colonel O' Neill have you seen Xander?"
The Air Force Colonel looked up with a grin. "Afraid not, and it's Jack."
Sydney smiled back at the Colonel. "Okay Jack, thanks anyway." How could anybody doubt the parental link between O'Neill and Xander wondered the secret agent? They shared the same infectious smile, good-humoured eyes, easy manner that hid a steely determination and fierce loyalty to people and causes they believed in. "I'll try the gym."
She turned away from the man only for him to grab her arm; a look of what she hoped was mock-seriousness on his face. "Sydney, I trust your intentions to my son are strictly honourable."
"Ah, but where would be the fun in that?" she smiled at the man's answering amused snort. "If anyone wants me I'll be downstairs." At the Colonel's nod, she hurried away from the lounge and down to the basement.
It was quite a set-up Xander had here, mused the secret agent. The emergency facility hid behind the facade of a three storey mansion in one of Sunnydale's most exclusive suburbs. Its twelve feet high brick wall and imposing steel gate concealed all manner of security equipment - CCTV cameras, steel reinforced front door, motion and infra-red sensors as well as bullet-proof glass were just the relatively normal ones. Rather more specialised was the security lights that could blanket ultra-violet light over the entire grounds at the flick of a switch inside the house, and the holy water sprinklers hidden in the gardens.
Inside the mansion, the ground floor, the only floor any casual visitor to the building would gain access to, everything seemed normal - the games room, the dining room, kitchens, and lounge all seemed normal although eyebrows might have been raised at the vast collection of occult books in the library. But it was the pass-worded first, second, and basement floors that held the mansion's real secrets. The basement held a gym the equal to any in the world containing aerobics, weights and dojo equipment as well as a shooting range and a vast selection of practice weaponry for hand to hand combat as well as the lavishly equipped garage, and the escape tunnel. The first floor held the male and female dorms and also the main armoury, shooting range, and the briefing room. But it was the top floor that held the heart of the building, the when occupied 24 hour a day crisis centre.
The crisis centre was filled with the most up-to-date Stark technology that not only controlled the house's external and internal security system but also enabled the centre to tap into any phone anywhere in the world while also ensuring that the building was itself unbuggable. The room's capabilities didn't end there, also allowing the team to hack into the city's CCTV camera system and even had its own purpose-built satellite hovering over the city, capable of going wherever ordered. Even in her days in SD-6 she'd never been surrounded by as varied and a dangerous group of individuals - Blade, Angel, and Jack Crow all managed to make her nervous. She didn't know how Xander could organise such a group and such a building. He had resources she'd never dreamed of and he was just a kid, nearly ten years her junior.
Still, Sydney smiled softly, Xander had always been unusual. Her smile broadened as she remembered her first meeting with him eighteen months ago.
* * *
Sydney hit the floor in a forward roll, dodging beneath the two beasts' flashing swords. What the hell was happening? This was meant to be a simple retrieval mission, but instead she was battling these escapees from a Conan movie. She started to rise, moving into a spin kick.
"Stay down!" The agent instinctively dropped back down, flattening herself to the ground as a shot boomed out twice and the beasts attacking her screamed before also dropping to the ground. "You can get up now."
Sydney's mouth dropped open as she regarded the friendly-looking young man who'd rescued her. He looked to be twenty at the most, younger even than she'd been when first recruited by SD-6. "Who are you?" she demanded.
"I'm sorry Agent Bristow," the youth grinned lopsidedly at her, "you're not cleared to know that." Her eyes widened, who did the kid think he was talking to? The young man's face turned serious. "Did you get any slime off them on you?" She nodded; the youth groaned. "You'd better strip."
"What!" Angry now, she started towards the man only to stop when he pointed his shotgun at her and stepped back out of easy reach.
"Agent Bristow, the blood of those creatures is high corrosive. Within three minutes they'd start to eat through your cat-suit. Another couple of minutes after that and you'll be on the floor, screaming, begging me to blow your brains out, to stop the pain."
Sydney paled and, impressed by the sincerity in the man's voice, obeyed. "Alright but you'd better explain what's going on."
"You're here about Jesus Castillo, the Cuban mercenary arranger, correct?" she nodded reluctantly, unwilling to give up information but it seemed as if he already knew anyway. "Remove your gloves last, don't risk contaminating your hands," the man instructed before continuing. "What you don't know is that Castillo has another highly lucrative sideline namely," the man hesitated, "namely the supply of demons to the lords of the underworld."
"Demons! Are you nuts!" The man sighed. "Look at the two bodies at your feet Agent Bristow, did you ever see anything like them on the cover of National Geographic?"
Sydney glanced down at the grey-skinned troll-like beasts on the ground and nodded, her rescuer had a point. Suddenly she realised the now blushing man was offering her his trenchcoat. Smiling slightly she took the offered coat. "You're quite the gentleman aren't you?" she teased lightly. "First rescuing a damsel in distress and then offering her your coat."
The man smiled tightly. "Growing up with the women I did, manners had nothing to do with it, just simple self-preservation. So Agent Bristow, I've read your file." Her mouth dropped open. Her file? How could a kid get hold of her file? "Would you be interested in some freelance work?"
"Freelance? I'm afraid my employers don't allow their operatives to work freelance. Besides," she grinned at the man. "You couldn't afford me."
"I've got Agency head clearance. Besides," the young man winked cockily. "I can afford more than you'd think."
* * *
Her smile withered and died as she watched the solitary man in the gym pound on a heavy bag. His movements were a blur, incorporating a level of skill that she for all her training could only dream of, but it was the look on her friend's face that worried her. She'd only worked with him on three occasions in the time she'd known him but she'd never seen him frightened. Pushing the door open she walked into the spacious gym. "Hi Xander."
The man turned to her and smiled. "Hi Syd."
Sydney nodded, noticing the way Xander's grin lacked its usual infectious warmth, seeming strained and forced, before walking over to the man. "Xander, talk to me."
"About what?"
"About why you've been so edgy since you got back from patrol. About why you've ordered a World-End alert. About anything, just talk Xander."
After a second her friend nodded slowly. "Could you pass me a towel please?"
She pouted playfully as she complied. "Spoilsport, take away one of life's great pleasures - sweaty hunk."
Xander chuckled dryly. "My alert didn't pull you away from anything important?"
Sydney shook her head. "With SD-6 gone and the Alliance crippled I'm kind of on hiatus right now. Besides with clearance you've wrangled, only the Deputy Head up can countermand your request."
"Hey this is strictly voluntary. I don't press-gang people. If you don't want to be here."
"Just joking Xander," she soothed. "I wouldn't miss a change to see my favourite jester. So this is where you come from? How does the small-town boy become a legendary demon hunter anyway?"
The young man's eyes gleamed bitterly. "Short version. Boy gets brought up by parents whose main hobbies seem to be how much they can drink and how much they can beat him. At age 15 boys meets beautiful blonde and falls head over heels for her," Xander smiled wryly, "in this case literally. Girl isn't interested, boy's too ordinary for her. But boy fights beside the girl for three years, battling demons and gains self-esteem and a father he'd never had before. Then the day before he's going to graduate," the youth's face tightened. "The boy gets called to a meeting at the library where his gang hang out. Suddenly his hero attacks him, this beautiful blonde he's loved from the first day he saw, beats him into a three day coma. Then, and this is where things gets really ironic, the girl's demon lover turns up and saves the boy's life, takes him, and nurses him back to health."
Sydney's heart ached at the pain she heard in her friend's voice. "Is that why you're scared? Because of her?"
"Buffy, no not really," Xander shook his head. "It's this place, Sunnydale. Outside of Sunnydale I'm someone, Demonsbane. But here I'm just Alexander Lavelle Harris, town loser. "
"I understand your problem," she nodded. "I'd be worried if my middle name was Lavelle too." Smiling slightly at the man's chuckle she reached up and stroked the man's face. "There's a lot people in this building who happen to think Alexander Lavelle Harris is pretty special."
"Thanks Syd," Xander grinned. "Now we're going to keep the Lavelle bit between ourselves right?"
She opened her mouth to reply only for the gym door to swing open. "Xander," it was a worried looking Angel. "Giles is on the phone for you."
* * *
"You're saying you can't magically track Xander?" Buffy demanded angrily as she paced the dining room floor.
"No, somebody's blocking my access," Willow replied meekly. "That amount of power I'm guessing the Charmed Ones."
"Maybe you should take a hint, Buffy. Obviously Xander doesn't want to traced," Giles suggested.
"That liar doesn't get to bring his own private army into my town!"
"Your town?" this time the comment came from an incredulous looking Dawn. "Who died and made your Queen of Sunnydale? This was Xander's home way before we came here Buffy."
"Yeah and he ran away," Buffy shot back.
"And what was he supposed to do B?" This time it was Faith's turn to butt in. "Stay around for round 2? I was with you before but if Angel -."
"Angel's got no right! It was my decision to make, I'm the Slayer! Willow, start looking on the computer, there must be some record. Hotel records, something."
Faith shook her head. "Fuck this." The brunette started for the dining room door.
"I didn't say you could leave," Buffy snapped.
"I didn't ask." The brunette sneered up at Spike stood blocking her path. "Get out of my way bleach-job or soul or no soul, B will be carrying you around in an urn."
"And on that note, I too will retire to bed," Giles groaned as several heads turned to him. "Different ones obviously."
"Damn straight."
Once in his room, Giles pulled out the piece of paper that Angel had slipped into his pocket and quickly dialled the number contained on it on his mobile. "Hello? Ah yeas, Mr Whyndham-Pryce, Rupert Giles here. Could I speak to Xander?"
Ten minutes later he'd caught up with the youth he considered his son and warned him of Buffy's intentions. After hanging up the Watcher he let out a weary sigh, today he felt every day of his 48 years. Where had it all gone wrong? At first he'd thought Buffy had such potential - he'd marvelled at her spirit and determination, but had failed to notice her selfishness and basic immaturity.
"Naughty, naughty Watcher, using a phone to make a secret call in a house with two Slayers and a vampire with super hearing, now that wasn't very smart was it?"
Giles bit back a groan as he turned to face the figure stood in the now open doorway of his room. He was in a world of trouble. "And what would you suggest Faith?" he asked archly even as he eyed his truncheon lying on the desk. If he could get to that, maybe, just maybe he could knock the Slayer out and escape. It was a slight chance, but it was the only one he had and he wouldn't let either Slayer hurt Xander again, even at the cost of his own life. "Should I have made my phone call under my bed sheets perhaps?"
A smile played on the brunette's full lips, she walked over to the desk, blocking his hoped for salvation. "That would have made listening in harder, more interesting but harder. Used to pick pockets when I was living on the streets otherwise I wouldn't have seen Angel passing you the paper."
"So what do you intend to do?" He was trapped, with the Slayer barring his route to his weapon even that small hope had gone.
"Depends." The Slayer's smile reminded him of a shark's.
"On what?"
"On if you'll take me with you when you blow amateur hour and go play with the big boys."
"If you think I'm going to let you hurt Xander -."
"Fuck G," the Slayer cut him off with an angry shake of the head. "I was major pissed with Xand but if Angel says Xman did the right thing that's five by five by me. Besides I'm sick of the bleached and the brainless sideshow, only one vamp gives me orders. Xman's got some serious players backing him. And," Faith looked down at the carpet, her customary brashness deserting her, "way Angel tells it Xand saved my life when I was inside. I never even thanked him for the first time."
Impressed by the sincerity he heard in the Slayer's voice Giles nodded. "Very well."
Faith beamed at him. "Wicked! I wanna bring Woodie and Pipsqueak too."
"Pipsqueak?" Giles paused. "I'm not comfortable with the idea of separating Dawn from her sister."
"Fuck G, B hardly notices anyone except her pet vampire and maybe Red. Dawn's better off out of here."
"You realise that would put us on a collision course with Buffy."
Faith shrugged. "So? I'd back Xman's team against this gang any day. B's lost the plot G, live with it." Giles nodded sadly, every word of what Faith said was unfortunately true.
"Colonel O' Neill have you seen Xander?"
The Air Force Colonel looked up with a grin. "Afraid not, and it's Jack."
Sydney smiled back at the Colonel. "Okay Jack, thanks anyway." How could anybody doubt the parental link between O'Neill and Xander wondered the secret agent? They shared the same infectious smile, good-humoured eyes, easy manner that hid a steely determination and fierce loyalty to people and causes they believed in. "I'll try the gym."
She turned away from the man only for him to grab her arm; a look of what she hoped was mock-seriousness on his face. "Sydney, I trust your intentions to my son are strictly honourable."
"Ah, but where would be the fun in that?" she smiled at the man's answering amused snort. "If anyone wants me I'll be downstairs." At the Colonel's nod, she hurried away from the lounge and down to the basement.
It was quite a set-up Xander had here, mused the secret agent. The emergency facility hid behind the facade of a three storey mansion in one of Sunnydale's most exclusive suburbs. Its twelve feet high brick wall and imposing steel gate concealed all manner of security equipment - CCTV cameras, steel reinforced front door, motion and infra-red sensors as well as bullet-proof glass were just the relatively normal ones. Rather more specialised was the security lights that could blanket ultra-violet light over the entire grounds at the flick of a switch inside the house, and the holy water sprinklers hidden in the gardens.
Inside the mansion, the ground floor, the only floor any casual visitor to the building would gain access to, everything seemed normal - the games room, the dining room, kitchens, and lounge all seemed normal although eyebrows might have been raised at the vast collection of occult books in the library. But it was the pass-worded first, second, and basement floors that held the mansion's real secrets. The basement held a gym the equal to any in the world containing aerobics, weights and dojo equipment as well as a shooting range and a vast selection of practice weaponry for hand to hand combat as well as the lavishly equipped garage, and the escape tunnel. The first floor held the male and female dorms and also the main armoury, shooting range, and the briefing room. But it was the top floor that held the heart of the building, the when occupied 24 hour a day crisis centre.
The crisis centre was filled with the most up-to-date Stark technology that not only controlled the house's external and internal security system but also enabled the centre to tap into any phone anywhere in the world while also ensuring that the building was itself unbuggable. The room's capabilities didn't end there, also allowing the team to hack into the city's CCTV camera system and even had its own purpose-built satellite hovering over the city, capable of going wherever ordered. Even in her days in SD-6 she'd never been surrounded by as varied and a dangerous group of individuals - Blade, Angel, and Jack Crow all managed to make her nervous. She didn't know how Xander could organise such a group and such a building. He had resources she'd never dreamed of and he was just a kid, nearly ten years her junior.
Still, Sydney smiled softly, Xander had always been unusual. Her smile broadened as she remembered her first meeting with him eighteen months ago.
* * *
Sydney hit the floor in a forward roll, dodging beneath the two beasts' flashing swords. What the hell was happening? This was meant to be a simple retrieval mission, but instead she was battling these escapees from a Conan movie. She started to rise, moving into a spin kick.
"Stay down!" The agent instinctively dropped back down, flattening herself to the ground as a shot boomed out twice and the beasts attacking her screamed before also dropping to the ground. "You can get up now."
Sydney's mouth dropped open as she regarded the friendly-looking young man who'd rescued her. He looked to be twenty at the most, younger even than she'd been when first recruited by SD-6. "Who are you?" she demanded.
"I'm sorry Agent Bristow," the youth grinned lopsidedly at her, "you're not cleared to know that." Her eyes widened, who did the kid think he was talking to? The young man's face turned serious. "Did you get any slime off them on you?" She nodded; the youth groaned. "You'd better strip."
"What!" Angry now, she started towards the man only to stop when he pointed his shotgun at her and stepped back out of easy reach.
"Agent Bristow, the blood of those creatures is high corrosive. Within three minutes they'd start to eat through your cat-suit. Another couple of minutes after that and you'll be on the floor, screaming, begging me to blow your brains out, to stop the pain."
Sydney paled and, impressed by the sincerity in the man's voice, obeyed. "Alright but you'd better explain what's going on."
"You're here about Jesus Castillo, the Cuban mercenary arranger, correct?" she nodded reluctantly, unwilling to give up information but it seemed as if he already knew anyway. "Remove your gloves last, don't risk contaminating your hands," the man instructed before continuing. "What you don't know is that Castillo has another highly lucrative sideline namely," the man hesitated, "namely the supply of demons to the lords of the underworld."
"Demons! Are you nuts!" The man sighed. "Look at the two bodies at your feet Agent Bristow, did you ever see anything like them on the cover of National Geographic?"
Sydney glanced down at the grey-skinned troll-like beasts on the ground and nodded, her rescuer had a point. Suddenly she realised the now blushing man was offering her his trenchcoat. Smiling slightly she took the offered coat. "You're quite the gentleman aren't you?" she teased lightly. "First rescuing a damsel in distress and then offering her your coat."
The man smiled tightly. "Growing up with the women I did, manners had nothing to do with it, just simple self-preservation. So Agent Bristow, I've read your file." Her mouth dropped open. Her file? How could a kid get hold of her file? "Would you be interested in some freelance work?"
"Freelance? I'm afraid my employers don't allow their operatives to work freelance. Besides," she grinned at the man. "You couldn't afford me."
"I've got Agency head clearance. Besides," the young man winked cockily. "I can afford more than you'd think."
* * *
Her smile withered and died as she watched the solitary man in the gym pound on a heavy bag. His movements were a blur, incorporating a level of skill that she for all her training could only dream of, but it was the look on her friend's face that worried her. She'd only worked with him on three occasions in the time she'd known him but she'd never seen him frightened. Pushing the door open she walked into the spacious gym. "Hi Xander."
The man turned to her and smiled. "Hi Syd."
Sydney nodded, noticing the way Xander's grin lacked its usual infectious warmth, seeming strained and forced, before walking over to the man. "Xander, talk to me."
"About what?"
"About why you've been so edgy since you got back from patrol. About why you've ordered a World-End alert. About anything, just talk Xander."
After a second her friend nodded slowly. "Could you pass me a towel please?"
She pouted playfully as she complied. "Spoilsport, take away one of life's great pleasures - sweaty hunk."
Xander chuckled dryly. "My alert didn't pull you away from anything important?"
Sydney shook her head. "With SD-6 gone and the Alliance crippled I'm kind of on hiatus right now. Besides with clearance you've wrangled, only the Deputy Head up can countermand your request."
"Hey this is strictly voluntary. I don't press-gang people. If you don't want to be here."
"Just joking Xander," she soothed. "I wouldn't miss a change to see my favourite jester. So this is where you come from? How does the small-town boy become a legendary demon hunter anyway?"
The young man's eyes gleamed bitterly. "Short version. Boy gets brought up by parents whose main hobbies seem to be how much they can drink and how much they can beat him. At age 15 boys meets beautiful blonde and falls head over heels for her," Xander smiled wryly, "in this case literally. Girl isn't interested, boy's too ordinary for her. But boy fights beside the girl for three years, battling demons and gains self-esteem and a father he'd never had before. Then the day before he's going to graduate," the youth's face tightened. "The boy gets called to a meeting at the library where his gang hang out. Suddenly his hero attacks him, this beautiful blonde he's loved from the first day he saw, beats him into a three day coma. Then, and this is where things gets really ironic, the girl's demon lover turns up and saves the boy's life, takes him, and nurses him back to health."
Sydney's heart ached at the pain she heard in her friend's voice. "Is that why you're scared? Because of her?"
"Buffy, no not really," Xander shook his head. "It's this place, Sunnydale. Outside of Sunnydale I'm someone, Demonsbane. But here I'm just Alexander Lavelle Harris, town loser. "
"I understand your problem," she nodded. "I'd be worried if my middle name was Lavelle too." Smiling slightly at the man's chuckle she reached up and stroked the man's face. "There's a lot people in this building who happen to think Alexander Lavelle Harris is pretty special."
"Thanks Syd," Xander grinned. "Now we're going to keep the Lavelle bit between ourselves right?"
She opened her mouth to reply only for the gym door to swing open. "Xander," it was a worried looking Angel. "Giles is on the phone for you."
* * *
"You're saying you can't magically track Xander?" Buffy demanded angrily as she paced the dining room floor.
"No, somebody's blocking my access," Willow replied meekly. "That amount of power I'm guessing the Charmed Ones."
"Maybe you should take a hint, Buffy. Obviously Xander doesn't want to traced," Giles suggested.
"That liar doesn't get to bring his own private army into my town!"
"Your town?" this time the comment came from an incredulous looking Dawn. "Who died and made your Queen of Sunnydale? This was Xander's home way before we came here Buffy."
"Yeah and he ran away," Buffy shot back.
"And what was he supposed to do B?" This time it was Faith's turn to butt in. "Stay around for round 2? I was with you before but if Angel -."
"Angel's got no right! It was my decision to make, I'm the Slayer! Willow, start looking on the computer, there must be some record. Hotel records, something."
Faith shook her head. "Fuck this." The brunette started for the dining room door.
"I didn't say you could leave," Buffy snapped.
"I didn't ask." The brunette sneered up at Spike stood blocking her path. "Get out of my way bleach-job or soul or no soul, B will be carrying you around in an urn."
"And on that note, I too will retire to bed," Giles groaned as several heads turned to him. "Different ones obviously."
"Damn straight."
Once in his room, Giles pulled out the piece of paper that Angel had slipped into his pocket and quickly dialled the number contained on it on his mobile. "Hello? Ah yeas, Mr Whyndham-Pryce, Rupert Giles here. Could I speak to Xander?"
Ten minutes later he'd caught up with the youth he considered his son and warned him of Buffy's intentions. After hanging up the Watcher he let out a weary sigh, today he felt every day of his 48 years. Where had it all gone wrong? At first he'd thought Buffy had such potential - he'd marvelled at her spirit and determination, but had failed to notice her selfishness and basic immaturity.
"Naughty, naughty Watcher, using a phone to make a secret call in a house with two Slayers and a vampire with super hearing, now that wasn't very smart was it?"
Giles bit back a groan as he turned to face the figure stood in the now open doorway of his room. He was in a world of trouble. "And what would you suggest Faith?" he asked archly even as he eyed his truncheon lying on the desk. If he could get to that, maybe, just maybe he could knock the Slayer out and escape. It was a slight chance, but it was the only one he had and he wouldn't let either Slayer hurt Xander again, even at the cost of his own life. "Should I have made my phone call under my bed sheets perhaps?"
A smile played on the brunette's full lips, she walked over to the desk, blocking his hoped for salvation. "That would have made listening in harder, more interesting but harder. Used to pick pockets when I was living on the streets otherwise I wouldn't have seen Angel passing you the paper."
"So what do you intend to do?" He was trapped, with the Slayer barring his route to his weapon even that small hope had gone.
"Depends." The Slayer's smile reminded him of a shark's.
"On what?"
"On if you'll take me with you when you blow amateur hour and go play with the big boys."
"If you think I'm going to let you hurt Xander -."
"Fuck G," the Slayer cut him off with an angry shake of the head. "I was major pissed with Xand but if Angel says Xman did the right thing that's five by five by me. Besides I'm sick of the bleached and the brainless sideshow, only one vamp gives me orders. Xman's got some serious players backing him. And," Faith looked down at the carpet, her customary brashness deserting her, "way Angel tells it Xand saved my life when I was inside. I never even thanked him for the first time."
Impressed by the sincerity he heard in the Slayer's voice Giles nodded. "Very well."
Faith beamed at him. "Wicked! I wanna bring Woodie and Pipsqueak too."
"Pipsqueak?" Giles paused. "I'm not comfortable with the idea of separating Dawn from her sister."
"Fuck G, B hardly notices anyone except her pet vampire and maybe Red. Dawn's better off out of here."
"You realise that would put us on a collision course with Buffy."
Faith shrugged. "So? I'd back Xman's team against this gang any day. B's lost the plot G, live with it." Giles nodded sadly, every word of what Faith said was unfortunately true.
