(Never threaten the wife of a Scottish swordsman)
Two weeks laterBuffy wriggled her feet impatiently; knocking them against the gravestone she was sitting on, the grave of one Gus Himler.
She had now waited half the night for him to rise. "Come on Gus," she growled. "I don't have all night. I am cold and miserable, and just want to go home to my comfortable and warm bed." She jumped down from the gravestone and stamped her feet on the ground in sheer frustration.
Bad move!! Suddenly the grave exploded open and Gus released a right hook that sent her toppling over the gravestone. "Ouch! That hurt!" She muttered as she tried to retrieve the breath that had been knocked out of her.
With a gasp, oxygen came back into her system, and she forced herself on her feet. She turned around and just barely blocked a punch that would have crushed her windpipe. God! This guy was strong. She thought as she narrowly ducked a spin kick.
She lifted her stake and tried to side-step one of his attacks and then stab him. But with a quick move he kicked the stake away from her. She reached for her second stake, but found that she had lost it as she went over the gravestone. And now it was out of reach. She tried to feint. But he kicked the legs from under her. Seconds later inhumanly strong hands squeezed around her throat.
Desperately she tried to kick him in the groin, but the bastard just kept squeezing. He didn't even grunt. As the world began to blur, Buffy frantically searched for anything she could use as a weapon. And as everything was turning black, her left hand found a broken tree branch. She grabbed it, and stabbed with what little strength she had left.
As a shower of dust fell over her, the pressure against her throat stopped. She sat up against the gravestone, fighting to breathe. Several minutes later her heart was still racing, but at least she could breathe. This one was close, too close. This wasn't working. She was still too weak.
Even a newly risen fledgling was more than enough for the mighty Buffy, slayer of some of the most powerful vampires in the world.
She needed help she realised. Until her full strength was back she was going to need lots of help.
She stumbled to her feet and went back to Sunnydale Highs library.
As she came through the swing doors, she could sense a faint vampire existence in the room. She looked over to the table and saw Giles discuss something with a man that seemed to be in his fifties.
She saw that they were about to end the conversation. The man gave a mock salute to Giles, and walked past her. As he did, he took of his hat. "Greetings Slayer. Good health to you," he said and bowed in an old fashioned way. Then he disappeared out the door.
"You do know that man is less than human, Giles?" She sat down on a chair in front of him.
"Yes I know," Giles said. He started cleaning his glasses, while a worried wrinkle appeared on his forehead.
"Then who and what is he," she asked.
"He is one of a few half vampires that are working for the council. They are the perfect choice for an undercover agent. They can appear completely vampire. But they don't posses the soulless evil. And either they don't have the craving for blood, or they can control it.
Well. His name is Barton Deville. And he just came from LA. He got some interesting news. A warrior sorceress of the First Circle of Hell is coming to Sunnydale. She intends to create a new Hellmouth in an old mansion at the outskirts of town.
That again will open the Hellmouth here in the library. Two Hellmouths as close as that will start growing until they become one. And the result is one giant Hellmouth, that because of its size is virtually impossible to close
But it seems that she has been having a little problem. An old acquaintance of ours did what he could to stop her. Spike was true to his words to you, about not wanting the world to be destroyed.
But then about two weeks ago, something changed. And now they are working together. Drusilla has disappeared, and he seems to have lost all interest of the rest of the world. So we better prepare for the fight against this warrior sorceress.
Barton also had some other news. There is fear in the vampire society in LA. Someone or something immensely powerful, is hunting down and killing vampires with apparent ease.
This creature appears to be female, and seems to be able to blend completely into the shadows. The few victims that gets away, say they never knew anything was wrong before they were attacked. And just before their companions suffered a brutally quick death, a singsong voice seemed to come out of the shadows saying: "I am the voice of vengeance. Vengeance is mine". Then this dark clad figure comes out of the shadows, and in seconds kills all vampires, except for one or two. Deliberately left alive to spread the word."
The Slayer and Watcher were silent for a while. Then Buffy shook herself out of her thoughts. "Giles, I know this causes reason to worry. But I am afraid we have other things to worry about. Tonight I tried to go slaying. And the keyword here is tried." Then she told her Watcher about the fight on the graveyard.
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Tessa was sitting behind the counter. Looking through the background information on the latest artefacts they had achieved, after they moved the business to LA. The clock was nine, and they were still waiting for the day's first customer.
She was just finished going through the info, when the bell rang and a beautiful redhead came in. She moved with the powerful grace she had come to know so well, since she met Duncan.
NO! Not again!! Tessa thought.
Another one that had come for Duncan's head. I wont allow it, she thought to herself. She grabbed a black Katana with no ornaments from a show case, and walked over to the woman that surprisingly enough, wasn't studying the sword collection. She had walked over to a show case with a collection of knives and daggers.
Tessa hid the sword behind her back and stepped over to the redhead.
"What can I help with," she said as she forced herself to smile.
The woman looked up with eyes full of sorrow.
"I'm looking for a job. And since old weapons are kind of my speciality, I thought you maybe could use my help."
She released an odd smirk, as she pointed behind Tessa's back. "I don't know why you are holding a sword behind your back, but I can assure you. You won't need to use it."
Feeling silly, Tessa brought the sword out from behind her.
"You say I wont have to use it," she said as she lowered it to the floor. "But be assured, I'm fully capable of using one of these. I know how to kill one of your kind. And if you try in any way to harm Duncan, I will personally behead you."
Before she could react the redhead's hand shot out and grabbed the sword away from her. "Duncan who?" the woman asked. But suddenly her back tensed, and she turned towards the door leading to the Dojo. Just in time to block a vicious cut from a magnificent Katana.
"Well," she said. "I guess that answered that. You have to be Duncan. Your assistant is quite protective of you," she said as she apparently with great ease blocked and parried the Scotsman's strokes.
"Duncan stop!," Tessa said, but to no use. The Highlanders eyes glinted with the full of his Celtic temper.
"Nobody hurts my wife, and gets away with it, if you wanted a fight, why didn't you just challenge me in the old-fashioned way? Instead of going after somebody that's not even a part of the game."
This guy is good, Drusilla thought as she focused her mind on the battle. It's like he and the sword are two parts of a whole. She opened the full of her senses, and could feel the exceptionally strong life force in him.
"Who are you," she said, as she had to tap into her vampiric strength to keep him from knocking the sword out of her hands. Duncan spun around and knocked her on the head with the hilt of the sword. To his surprise she just shook her head and seemed to grow stronger as she released a stroke that almost knocked the sword out of his hands.
"I am Duncan Macloud of the Clan Macloud," he growled as he somersaulted away from the tip of her sword. "And who are you." Amazingly she smiled back at him.
"I am Drusilla of the gypsy clan Calderash. I am the Voice of Vengeance. Vengeance is mine. And I am more than you can take."
With that she started an attack that was like nothing he had ever experienced. Duncan had four hundred years of experience and a very well trained body to draw on. And he was considered one of the best by his own kind. But still he found that she seemed to be in an entirely different league. He came to think of the old samurai motto.
Seek the spirit of the water.
The water is soothing yet deadly
The water is soft yet powerfulIt gives away instead of breaking
This woman moved like the water, smoothly, always in motion. She moved like a predator, yet he sensed a sharp and complex intelligence behind those eyes which were like black depths of sorrow.
This could very easily be the most deadly opponent he had ever met. Her quickening felt strange, incredibly powerful, as if she was thousands of years old. Almost as strong as Cassandra's, but something was wrong. She felt like an Immortal, yet she didn't.
He parried a stroke to the midsection and kicked her in the stomach as hard as he could. She fell to the floor, and he moved to finish it. But before he could take one step, she was back on her feet. And her eyes were suddenly glowing bright yellow.
"My God," he yelled. "What are you? You are not immortal are you?"
"No" she said, as she seemed to levitate towards him. "I may be over a hundred years old. But I am not one of the Eternal Warriors," she said as she almost broke his hand with a kick that sent his sword flying away.
Then she brought the hilt of her sword thundering down on his head. Making him fall to the ground. She lifted her sword and brought it swiftly towards his neck. The blade stopped a mere millimetre from his neck.
"Bang! You are dead," she said as she blew at the top of her finger. Like it was a gun. Then she reached down and yanked him back on his feet, and gave him back both swords.
"I didn't come here to fight for the bullshit prize. I simply came here to ask for a job, and your wife threatened me with a sword. I don't like that, so I took it away.
And then you came. Well, I guess I blew my job application. Sorry about the headache. But as the stubborn Highlander you are, you were completely taken by the battle rage. The only way to stop you was to wipe the floor with you.
Again I'm sorry about the whole thing. And you wont have to worry about seeing me again. Bye." She turned to go, but stopped as Tessa grabbed her shoulder.
"I think you owe us an explanation. Who are you really? And not to be rude or anything, what are you?"
Drusilla turned and sat down on a chair by the counter.
"My name, as I said earlier, is Drusilla of the gypsy clan Calderash. And I am part Vampire, part Vampire Slayer."
She let out a long sigh. Then she started to speak. Half an hour later, she ended the story of her life. "So that's who I am."
"Well, I think that this is, without doubt, the strangest story I have ever heard," Duncan said after a while. "And the worst of it is, I believe it. I have met Slayers, Vampires and Witches before. But this is the first time I have met all three in one person. No wonder you are so strong.
OK, now that we know who and what each of us are, I think its time to get to business." He walked behind the counter and started to look through some papers. After a while he looked up at her again.
"I just have to re-establish your identity officially. That will take me about one day. And you need to get a bank account. So I'll figure you can start working in about two days. Do Antiques Specialist and Martial Art instructor sound okay?"
Drusilla barely could believe what she heard. She could only nod. This was exactly what she needed. She nodded again. "Yes," she said. "It sounds perfect."
"Well then," Mr and Mrs Macloud said. "Welcome to Duncan's Antiques Shop and Dojo."
She looked at them both. "Thank you very much. You don't know how much this means to me. But why do you hire someone like me?"
Duncan looked her straight in the eyes. And his eyes were suddenly dark with sorrow. "Because I know how it is to have been ridden by a demon. Ever heard about a demon called Ahriman?"
Her head snapped up. "Ahriman! The Millennium demon?"
"Yes," he nodded.
She was in awe. "You are the Champion. The one in this millennia chosen to battle Ahriman. And you obviously won!" Her voice was shivering from respect.
"Yes I did," he mumbled. "But not before his madness made me kill one of my students and dearest friends. Therefore I can, at least partly, understand what you are going through now. And I admire your courage and strength. I had friends that helped me through the first weeks, while you had to deal with the guilt on your own. And on top of that, in an unfamiliar century.
You have proven your self when it comes to Martial Arts and swordplay. And since you are the Slayer, I can only imagine your knowledge of ancient weapons. This and the fact that we are quite understaffed, are the reasons I hire you. Now go and get that bank account ready. The sooner you can start, the better."
"Aye aye, sir," she said and walked out into the lovely sunlight.
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Thrust! Parry! Parry! Duck! Parry! Thrust! Thud! Parry! Crack! Slap!! Sweep!!!
"OUCH!!!" Buffy yelped as she stumbled backwards.
"Damn it!! I feel so bloody useless," she shouted as she threw her quarterstaff away. She massaged a sore shoulder.
"Normally I would be capable of wiping the floor with you. And look at me now. It's the other way around. I'm bloody useless!!! How am I supposed to kill vampires when I'm not even capable of protecting myself against you? No offence, Giles, but you are middle-aged."
"None taken," he said as he handed her an icepack for her shoulder. "Now, don't fall into despair. I actually think you are making good progress. We have now been training for two hours straight. You have gone through the whole weight-training program with weights that for the first time were clearly above what could be expected for a woman your size. You took twenty-five push-ups, and fifty sit-ups.
Last week you collapsed after an hour of light training. With this speed you will be back at full strength within another week."
"I know," she said. "But it isn't soon enough. In the mean time, Cathla The Warrior Sorceress can wreak havoc as she want. Not to mention Spike who has gone on a killing spree not seen the likes of since The Harvest.
And Sunnydale is about to drown in vampires, demons and other assorted nasties. Bloody hell!! On the way here, I sensed fifteen vampires and had to run from a Mora demon and a hellhound.
And last night Oz was in this major dogfight with three other werewolves. We have to do something!!!"
"I know that," he said as he started to tidy up after the training session. He looked at the frustrated Slayer. "We are doing all that we can, Buffy. Every night we are out there. Trying to halt the increase in the powers of the Forces of Darkness.
And every evening, before we go out, we spend hours here researching. I don't know what else we could do. Now that you don't have your Slayer strength, and Angel is gone. The only one of us that got some kind of supernatural power is Willow. And those powers are not physical.
If I release the Ripper within I get an increase in power, but barely enough to make up for the strength taken away from me by age. We just have to pray for a miracle. And both of us know that miracles do happen. After all you came back from the dead. And still you cheated death again just two weeks ago.
You have prevented Armageddon more times than I like to think of. We all have. So don't give up. We will find something. In some way, I'm sure we are going to stop her. We just have to focus on our work, and never give up, because that's one of the things that separate men from animals. We keep fighting even though it seems futile. And surprisingly often, in the end we prevail.
Now let us take a trip out and se how the others are doing." Buffy looked at her beloved Watcher. Sweet, stuffy, British, bookworm Giles. How did he do it? Somehow he always managed to say the right thing. Give her that extra little spunk that she needed to go on.
She realised that he was more than a Watcher to her. Much more. In more than one way he was like a father to her, more than her biological father ever had been. Hank had never understood her like Giles did. Not that he ever could, as long as he didn't know about her secret life. But he didn't even try to understand her when it came to ordinary things, like taste of clothes, friends, and plans for the future.
Not that he didn't love her, because she knew that he did, but sometimes she wondered if he wasn't a bit disappointed that his only child wasn't a boy. He should only know that his little daughter could beat the crap out of any man, she thought with a smirk.
"Yeah, lets go," she said to Giles. "I wonder how many times Xander has been knocked on his ass tonight? Poor guy. He has sort of elected himself as protector of the rest of us. And I must say Giles, he is doing a surprisingly good job at it. He has gotten much better. But still I think it would be a good idea if you started training him too. Did you see how stiffly he moved last night, when we came back from the patrol.
When he changed the T-shirt that hellhound tore to shreds, I saw why. His whole upper body was covered with so many blue marks, cuts and bruises that I felt like crying. And still he managed to keep our spirits up with that geeky humour of his." With a sudden move she grabbed the bag of slaying tools, and followed Giles out in the night. Driven by worry for her best friend.
End of Chapter four