FIC: A Murder Of Crows (10?)

John pursed his lips, watching from his hiding place as the others left the library, laughing as they shared a joke. Satisfied they were gone, he started down the corridor, ignoring his involuntary shudders at the reaching shadows. It was less than a month since he'd found out about his girl-friend's Calling and once the shock died down, he had decided he had to help. But the only question was how.

Mr. Giles and Mr. Crow both had tons of experience and were tough to boot. Buffy and Faith were Slayers. Buffy's boyfriend was some sort of good vampire, Xander was a natural athlete, Cordelia could scare a demon with a tongue lashing, and Willow was some sort of Witch. But what could he do? He'd been stuck for some way to contribute, not just be a hanger-on.

But after weeks of thinking, he'd found it.

Perhaps even more than Willow, he was the school's brain. If he studied enough, researched hard enough, he could find some way of helping her, become a group strategist. It wasn't fighting, but it was using the best weapon available to him – his intelligence.

Of course that should have meant asking Mr. Giles' permission to read his texts, but fearful of being laughed at, he'd decided to be more discreet about it. He'd simply read the Watcher Diaries when there was no-one about.

Entering the library, he started towards the back, a smile playing on his lips. He had to admit it was exciting, the things some of the Slayers had done was amazing. His smile withered, but none of these amazing girls lived to be very old. "It's gonna be different for you," he whispered a promise to his absent girl-friend.

He froze at the sound of voices in the inner offices. Realising he hadn't seen Mr. Giles with the others, he turned and crept back towards the library's outer door. And froze again at what he heard. Taking a breath, he turned and sneaked to the inner office and peeked in, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Cruciamentum is not easy... " announced a pompous-looking Englishman maybe fifteen years older than Mr. Giles. "For Slayer or Watcher. But it's been done this way for a dozen centuries. Whenever a Slayer turns eighteen. It's a time-honoured rite of passage."

Mr. Giles shook his head. "It's an archaic exercise in cruelty. To lock her in with a monster, a vampire, stripped of her powers," Jonathan bit his hand to prevent from gasping. "If any one of the Council still had actual contact with a Slayer, they would see, but I'm the one in the thick of it."

The older man waggled his finger at Mr. Giles. "Which is why you're not qualified to make this decision. You're too close."

"That's not true," Giles defended weakly.

"A Slayer is not just physical prowess. She must have cunning, imagination, a confidence derived from self-reliance. And believe me, once this is all over, your Buffy will be stronger for it."

"Or she'll be dead for it," Giles sighed. "It will be as you wish."

The other Englishman smirked. "I never doubted it."

"You kids want anything to drink?" At their headshakes, Crow rose, a slight smile playing on his lips. His kids, despite all they'd been through, they were still good people, trying to make a difference while plenty of kids their age were wasting their lives. As he reached the kitchen, a loud thumping erupted on the front door, stopping he turned to it. Who could be calling at this time of night in Sunnydale? Drawing his gun, he started towards the door. "I'll get it," he called. Walking up to the door he swung it open.

And his daughter's boyfriend fell into the house, collapsing in a wheezing heap at his feet. "Jonathan," his voice dripped with disdain as he regarded the sweaty boy lying on his hall floor. His daughter was beautiful, confident, smart, and brave, and who was she dating? Jonathan Levinson, she could do a lot better. "And what do you want?" He saw his daughter and son enter the hallway, concerned expressions on their faces.

"Cruicatmen, test, Buffy," the boy gasped. "Take, her, powers."

"Pop," Faith said, "what's going on?"

Crow ignored the Bostonian's concerned voice to crouch over her boyfriend and pull him to his feet. "Where did you hear this?" he growled.

The boy paled at his tone. "I…I go to the library," the youth looked down, "to study about Slayers so maybe I could help Fait-, ugh."

Crow rolled his eyes when his daughter launched herself the length of the hallway to fix herself onto Levinson's lips. "Faith," after a minute he grabbed his daughter's arm and dragged her off him. "I think the boy needs his oxygen." He turned his attention to the bemused looking youth. "Go on." Jonathan's eyes failed to focus, fixed as they were on his daughter. Crow impatiently clicked his finger. "Levinson!"

The boy started at his yell. "Don't you shout at him," Faith growled protectively.

"Faith," he continued to stare at the youth. "This is important. Jonathan?"

"Mr. Giles was in the library, talking to this older Englishman, they were discussing this Cruictamen, talking about taking Buffy's powers away 'cause it was her 18th and testing her against a vampire."

Crow ignored the others' gasps to quickly think. He'd heard of the Cruicatmen but had assumed it was bullshit. Apparently not. "He happen to say where this test was going on?" the boy shook his head. "Fuck," Crow grunted. That made a complicated situation a shit-load worse. Gathering his thoughts, he began to plan aloud. "First, we need to pick up Angel."

"We don't need him!"

"Damn it Xander!" he roared. "Just do as you're told!" His son flinched from his tone, as if expecting to hit. Faith snarled, stepping between her brother and him. Crow raised his hands even as he reminded himself to pay Tony Harris another visit to compliment him on his superior parenting skills. "Sorry, son," he grunted. He'd never hit a kid, men who did it were rank cowards. And even if he was that sort of man, he'd only live about as long as it took for his daughter to catch up with him. She tolerated him but adored her brother. After swallowing that bitter knowledge he continued. "This feeding someone to a vampire just burns. We need Angel to get into the place undetected. Right," he picked up his car keys from the table by the door. "Everyone ready?"

Angel groaned at the sound of hammering on his door. Throwing aside his book, he rose and stood. His eyes widened as his nose picked up familiar scents. The Crows. "Looks like my lynching party is here," he muttered.

The joke sounded hollow even to his own ears. Striding to the door, he flung it open. "Hello?"

"You heard of the Cruicatmen, boy?" barked Faith and Xander's craggy-featured father.

Angel's brow furrowed in confusion. "No," he vamped out briefly as he remembered something. "Yeah, Amsterdam 1790s, met this vampire who boasted he'd slain this Slayer the Council had taken her powers away as part of this Cruicatmen. But the vampire was such a blow-hard, I figured it had to be a myth."

"It's not a myth," Crow flatly retorted.

"Giles wouldn't-," his voice trailed off as he remembered a tearful Buffy telling him at the Watcher's fury when she'd concealed his return. But still, he wouldn't. Would he?

"Jonathan," Faith beamed proudly, her arm around the boy in question, "overheard him agreeing to it."

Angel looked at Crow. "Where is it?"

"I don't know," the American demon-hunter replied. "We're heading to the library to find out."

Angel nodded. "I'll get my coat."

Giles looked up as the door to his inner office flew open and a cold-eyed Faith stepped through the doorway, her fists clenched. "You fucking bastard." In an instance he was bent across the desk, the Slayer's forearm pressing across his throat, forcing him to gurgle for breath. "Where is she you bastard?"

"No Faith," Angel stepped forward, hand reaching for the Slayer's shoulder.

"Touch her." The demon froze at the sound of a gun cocking. "And I'll blow your fucking brains out," Crow coldly announced.

"Okay." Angel stepped back, a look of frustration on the Irish demon's face. "But I can smell drugs in Giles' blood, it's something we demons can do to prevent from feeding on junkies. This isn't his fault."

"Damn," he heard the sound of the gun's hammer being released. "Those fucking bastards. Let him up."

"Drugs," Giles stared in confusion at his invaders. "Who's on drugs?"

"Who's your Council head?" Crow demanded in his brash, American voice.

"Quentin Travers, great man," he grinned. "He often says so himself."

"G-Man," Giles smiled vaguely at Xander. "Where is Buffy?"

"Um," he thought for a second, searching through the hazes of his confused mind. "The boarding house on Clearview Street."

"You know it, kid?" Jack hoarsely demanded. Xander nodded. "Good. Let's go."

"Maybe I should come with you-."

"We'll bring her back," Jack yelled as he ran out, the others following behind. "You stay here."

"Come on, mom," Buffy whispered. "We're almost there." Buffy gasped as Kralik burst out of the shadowy corridor ahead of her. She immediately began back up only to fall over her clumsy feet. Hitting the ground with a thud, she looked up at her mom's frightened face. "Mom! Run!"

"Slayer," Kralik charged her. "I'll feast on your blood and make your mother scream for death!"

"I don't think so." Buffy screamed when a dark figure smashed through the wooden wall in front of her, grabbed the demon around his collar, and flung him into the wall opposite. Kralik's face contorted with rage. Snarling, he threw a right at the intruder, but the intruder caught his fist and slapped him across the face. "Bad puppy."

Buffy gasped as she recognised the voice. "Angel," she whispered.

Kralik growled before throwing a right hook at her boyfriend's ribs. Angel caught the punch full in his side, grunted but otherwise ignored the blow, slamming a knee into the other demon's stomach. Kralik croaked and began to double up, only to fall straight onto Angel's stake.

Angel was pulling her to her feet even as the demon exploded in dust. "It's okay," her boyfriend whispered into her ear even as she trembled wildly. "He's gone." Her boyfriend looked over to her mom. "Are you alright, Joyce?" After a second her mother managed a gasped yes.

"H…how?" Buffy gasped.

"Jonathan overheard Giles discussing your Cruicatmen, he told Jack and we got Giles to tell us where you was. I sneaked in here to kill Kralik."

Buffy felt tears form at the mention of her Watcher. "Giles -."

"Giles was drugged, he didn't know what he was doing. Do you think he could act so out of character?" Angel kissed the bruise on her forehead. "You need to head out of here with your mother."

"Come with us!"

Angel wormed his way out of her bear-hug with ease, normally he'd never be able to break her grip. "I can't, the Council can't know I helped you. But if you head to the gym at the end of the row, Crow and the others are waiting for you."

"What will you do, Angel?"

Angel glanced at her mother, clearly surprised by her question. "I'll just hide here, they'll never see me."

"Buffy!" Giles' heart leapt as his battered Slayer walked into his library. For the past hour he'd been engulfed in an unshakeable terror, his mind filled with the image of his Slayer lying on the ground, her blood pumping out of her throat, her eyes lifelessly open. But she was alright. "I'm so sorry."

Instantly Buffy was holding him, giving him a hug he returned with interest. "It's okay," she whispered. "I understand."

Crow looked at Jonathan stood on the outside of their group. "You did okay tonight, kid."

"Thanks sir," Jonathan said.

"So you and Faith uh," he leaned into the kid and whispered in his ear. "You hurt her and you'll be just another one of Sunnydale's deceased," he warned.

He was surprised when the kid didn't back off. "I'd never hurt her!" he responded, his eyes flashing.

"No," he laughed. "I don't suppose you would. He scowled as he remembered something. "Hey kid," he threw his SUV keys to Xander. "Make sure John gets home okay." Seeing Faith's mouth open, he shook his head. "No, he can't stay over."

His daughter briefly pouted. "Where are you goin'?"

"Got some business to take care off," he replied obliquely as he headed to the door.

Crow watched as the oblivious man approached his van, his arrogance apparent in every strut. Finally, he stepped out of the shadows. "You bastard."

The Englishman froze. After a second the man turned to face him, eyes flickering from left to right as if looking for help. Crow hid a smile, well he'd made sure there would be no help. "M….Mr. Crow-."

Before the Englishman had chance to continue, Crow slammed a right into his over-stuffed mid-section. The Watcher greyed and began to double up. Crow grabbed a hold of the man's expensive suit collar and smashed him against the van's back door, his head bouncing off the hard surface. "The Cruicatmen," Crow growled as he stuck the muzzle of his silenced pistol under the Watcher's flabby chin. "You bastards. You'd do that to a girl, a child, you'd feed them to a vampire?"

The Englishman swallowed. "What Council does with their Slayers is Council business," Travers blustered, sweat forming on his brow.

"My daughter's eighteen in seven months."

"M…Mr Crow," the Englishman began to babble, a stain appeared on the crotch of his Saville Row grey trousers. "I…I assure y..you."

"No assurance needed," Crow fired his silenced pistol twice. The shot made little sound but its impact was explosive, ripping through the pleading Watcher's head like a hammer through melon, blood splattering both the van and him. He watched dispassionately as the body slid to the tarmac ground before opening the van and looking at the three men bundled inside. Lifting the corpse, he threw it in the back before speaking to the terrified trio inside. "Tell the Ruling Forum they do anything to harm my girl, try to test her in any way, and I'll come looking for them. Each and every last one of them." Turning, he strode away into the night, coat flapping around his ankles.