Ezekiel
Disclaimer: Do not own Buffy.
A/N: overview.
Bayou, Thirteen miles south of New Orleans, Louisiana, 1997:
When Tivona came to, she shook her head to try and clear the blurring of her vision. She felt…jubilant, she believed, was the proper word for what she felt then, though the word itself did not do the feeling justice. It had been a while since she had felt such happiness within her body, at least not since her time in the Vatican. So, she had never felt this happy. She didn't mind the fact that she was in chains strapped to a wall. She didn't care about the fact that all of her gear and weaponry were gone. She didn't really feel too concerned about the fact that she had no idea where she was, or what she was doing there. At that moment, she would probably do anything at all because she was all so fucking happy.
She sighed aloud as she watched one of their two prisoners come around. She did not fear what they would do to her, but, she was curious as to why they were around that area, heading specifically towards her present location.
She watched the awake one smile and giggle maniacally from her mirror that she had in front of her face, forcing herself to remain stoic in front of the display. The Spell of Ecstasy was one that she used often when it came to defending their borders. It came in handy, for just as people do with depression, when people would become so happy, they would tend to pass out from the feeling and, if not, the laughing usually did it. Plus, it made people extremely suggestive. Which meant that she could find out what exactly they were doing there.
The Warrioress of God smiled as the door of her cell opened outwards to reveal a woman a little bit taller than her dressed in a flowing, red robe. Immediately, she began to giggle her head off as she was reminded of the Imperial Guards off of Star Wars.
"I'm glad you find this situation so funny," the being said with an Australian accent.
"Heh, you funny," she muttered as a new strand of giggles and laughs incurred.
"Thank you," the woman in red said as she took a seat atop a stool, "Now," she straightened herself out and stared directly into Tivona's eyes, "Would you mind telling me what you were doing out in the bayou so late at night?"
"I wouldn't mind telling you," the huntress said, slurring as she did so, "If you did something for me."
"Like what?"
"…I don't know. Maybe some candy. Do you have any candy? I love chocolate. They had so much good chocolate in France."
"Yes, I do have chocolate," the robed woman said as she conjured up a Three Musketeers out of thin air and levitated it into her hands, "Now, tell me why you were out so late and I'll give you some."
The woman tore the wrapping off quickly and threw it into the air, only to catch it with her mind. She slowly carried it through the air to the Warrioress, leaving it just within the distance required for her olfactory system to pick it up, but too far for her to bite it.
"No fair, give it," the huntress complained good-naturedly.
"Then, tell me…"
"Alright, Miss Nosy-puss…wait. What did I say?"
"…Why were you out here so late?"
"I was looking for…something."
"What was this something," she asked the prisoner, levitating the chocolate a little closer for emphasis.
"…Sabrina, I think, or…no, what Sabrina is. Sabrina, the Teenage Witch. Witchies! That's it, witchies!"
She glared at the ecstatic child as she began leaping up and down, or, at least, as much as she could given her current conditions. So, this one was here to find witches, and her companion probably was too. But, why? She decided to ask.
"Not unless you give me another piece of chocolate," was her response.
She did not have time to waste by sitting here and conjuring up more chocolates so that this girl would confess her reasons for coming. Groaning, she stood and made to walk out the door, but stopped at her next words.
"Here, Jacquey, Jacquey, Jacquey!"
The robed woman turned around. This person, whoever it was, had just called out for 'Jacquey,' she could hear the letters within the words pouring out her mouth. That was the only reason why the woman decided to release her. Sighing, she reached out with her powers and lifted the spell. Almost immediately, the strange being known as the Warrioress stopped her reveille of 'Jacquey' and glared at the robed one.
"Whoever you are," she said quietly, malice deep within her gaze, "You will regret what you have done."
"Oh, stop it," she said whilst she came over and began to undo the huntress's bonds, "I just took the spell off you. You know that it was a spell, you could feel it, and don't try and deny it."
"I wasn't going to," Tivona said, wondering just what was going on as she did so.
"Good, because I would have known you were lying," the woman said as she let the Warrioress's now released hand fall and began to detach the other bond, "I have a clear intellect for those kind of things. Plus, your aura screeches holy."
"It should," she said as she began to rub her now free hands and arms, "I'm a Warrioress of God."
The robed woman looked up from where she had begun to release Yvonne to stare up at her face.
"Really," she asked.
"Really."
"…My name's Laura," the robed woman introduced herself.
"Tivona."
"We've been living here for a long time now," Laura was saying as she led Yvonne and Tivona down the bayou lane that went around the small village, "Our habitat was founded to keep people safe who are…different."
"Oh, yeah," the Warrioress said as she passed a werewolf and a Braken demon walking together, "Different."
"Demons, werewolves, and witches have been hunted down for generations," as she said this, Laura sent a glare over to the two girls, "However, the peaceable ones who existed and were willing to exist in harmony, along with several powerful witches, one being Morgan le Fay herself, began a global search for land where all beings were welcomed. They found it here, in our village. They were aided in their settlement by the natives who lived around the area, and they didn't cheat them like the 'original settlers' did."
"So…" Tivona said, wondering exactly what was true and wasn't true in this world, "Columbus wasn't the original discoverer?"
"Technically, he wasn't the original discoverer of America, anyway. At least, I don't think he was. I don't know, I'll have to check it out."
"So, this is like," the potential Slayer asked as she noticed a large demon with antler horns walk by, "A kind of…utopia, for the supernatural, right?"
"You could say that, yeah," Laura walked up to a large, wooden shack and went inside, "George!"
"Yeah," a distinguishingly Texan voice called, "I'm in the den."
"Alright," she called, "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes."
She shook her head and turned back to her companions.
"My husband," she explained, "Can't cook worth a damn. So, have a seat."
The Slayer in training and the Warrioress of God shared a look, but complied. They took a seat along a green couch as Laura sat down inside of a cushioned seat. She stared at them for a few moments before beginning.
"So, Jacque sent you here?"
"…How do you know Jacque," Yvonne asked, worried about her elder friend.
"He went canoeing once, ended up getting swept in here," she answered, "Now, why did Jacque send you here?"
"Now, hold on, are we thinking about the same Jacque?"
"Old guy, white hair, country bamma, sells swords and the like?"
"Oh, you do know him."
"Yes, I do. Now, why did Jacque tell you to come here?"
"…I'm a potential Slayer-"
"I know that already, move on."
"Hey," the Warrioress interrupted, "We came here in peace, not to be captured, practically drugged, and treated hostile. Treat us as though we were your guests or your demon companions will have to move if they want to escape danger."
The woman stared at her, awe and shock evident in her features. After a moment, she shook herself and regained some stature.
"You're right," she amended, "I'm sorry for treating you that way. You don't deserve it. Besides, I did use that Ecstasy spell on you. For which, I apologize. Now, please continue."
"Thanks," Yvonne stared at Tivona for a moment, curiosity evident in her eyes, but continued on after a moment, "My Watcher had moved into my home after my parents died. He looked after me. Then, Tivona here showed up and, when I introduced her to him, he acted very…unBritish. I went to go speak to him about it, but, he was gone. I looked around and noticed his file, just…laid out for the world. I went to go get her and, when we got there, he just…disappeared. We couldn't find him. Then, we looked at the files."
She reached into her bag and produced the papers that she had been speaking of. The robed woman reached out and took them from the potential and quickly scanned them over. After a moment, she looked up.
"It seems to be a portal," she explained, "Where does it lead?"
"We were hoping you, or someone here, could inform us," the Warrioress informed.
"…I believe I could find out. My powers are not the most powerful, but, they are the best when it comes to finding things. That's why I was put as a defender."
"Well, great," Yvonne said as she slapped her hands together, "When could we find out?"
The robed woman smiled and closed her eyes. The two stared at her for a moment, and eventually noticed the red light coming from underneath her lids. Then, they became blinded.
When they all finally became aware of their surroundings, they found themselves inside of the entrance hall to Yvonne's mansion. The potential Slayer and Warrioress turned around several times in order to make sure that they knew where they were and, once they were certain, stared at Laura.
"Teleportation," she said simply, "Now, which room is it?"
"Hm," the robed woman muttered to herself as she moved her hand over the rocky surface, "Yes."
Tivona stared ahead, not sure what the Hell the mage was doing. It was odd, watching the display, but, in a way, it made sense, having to feel around for the sense. She looked back as Yvonne reentered the room, an old saber ducked underneath her arm.
"I found it," she said as she set the sword down on the table, "This was my ancestor's room back when he was alive. It was built with some stone blocks especially for him. That same ancestor fought in the Civil War, and this was his weapon."
She gripped the hand guarded blade and withdrew it from its sheath, making that clanging noise that most sabers did, and stared down at the blade. After a few moments of searching the metal over, she smiled.
"There's an inscription," she said, "It looks like Latin."
Tivona motioned for her friend to hand her the saber.
"…Archaic Latin," she deduced as she examined the weapon, "Knock and the door shall be…"
She turned and stared up at the mage.
"I believe I know where it leads," she said with a smile, "Well, not exactly, but…it's general location."
"Where?"
"A city in Oregon is the location of the room," she said, "It's called Paradise. I believe the Warrior of God lives in that city, a man called…Ugh…"
"Ezekiel," Tivona questioned, her expression filled with eagerness.
"That's the one," Laura supplied, "Helped save the world not too long ago, along with the Slayer."
The Warrioress smiled as she realized what this meant. If she and Yvonne went through the portal, they'd be able to get to Paradise, and that was where her brother was. Still smiling, she went forward and stood before the door.
"Tivona," she heard the potential Slayer call, "I don't know if we should just rush into this. I mean, what if she's-"
"Knock and the door shall be opened."
The stone wall did nothing for a moment, a moment in which Tivona was forced to rethink the inscription, before it began to glow with a strange, black light, somehow absorbing and reflecting the light it gave off. The light grew, somehow, brighter and completely consumed a section of the wall. Then, the light died. All that was left was a dark space that seemed to fall down into nothing.
"Warrioress, I don't-"
Tivona didn't listen. She checked to make sure that her equipment was secure, then took a deep breath. She turned to her friend.
"…I'm ready," she said as she grabbed the saber and her bow and arrows.
The huntress nodded and turned to the abyss. God go with me.
She jumped.
Sirk collected the last of his books and looked back at the room with a bit of sadness in his eyes. It had sort of become his second home. Oh, well. He could always return and take advantage of the remarkable room and all the gifts it possessed. It would be the perfect backup plan for his life, his future, at Wolfram and Hart. Smiling, he walked up the stairs and out of the room. He reached up along the wall and reached into the hallow point along the wall, withdrew a golden key, and placed it into the lock. He pressed the door and twisted it as best as he could, but it was stubborn and wouldn't come. After a little bit of effort, he heard the clank and pulled the key out, replaced it into its space, and walked up the stairs into the city of Paradise.
He did not, however, check to make sure that the door was fully shut.
Tivona braced herself and wondered when the fall would end. Finally, after what seemed to be a millennia, she felt the hard impact of the solid ground as she adjusted her body to compensate for the blow. She landed with her knees squatted down and one hand against the concrete. After a moment, she looked up from her landing spot and examined the room.
It was…just a simple, dark room, about the size of her old quarters, which was around the size of a Spartan's room. There were no cobwebs or items within the room, it was just…sparse.
She looked up when she heard something overheard, and she saw Yvonne falling closer down towards her. She jumped away and landed on the floor, rolled her body along, and came up to her feet. She turned around and saw Yvonne stand up, brushing her legs off as she did so. She brushed her shirt off and looked up into the Warrioress's face.
"So," she said as she looked around, "What now?"
Sirk looked up at the Wolfram and Hart building. He was going to get in big with them, he knew it.
"There's nothing here," the potential Slayer groaned as she looked around the room, "Why would the portal lead here if there is nothing here?"
"I don't see a door anywhere," Tivona grimaced as she examined the room, "There's no way out."
"But, we can get back, right," Yvonne asked.
Tivona looked up at where they had fallen. The gaping hole that led to black was now replaced by granite.
"Right?"
"Mr. Sirk," Daniel Jerkins greeted the British ex-Watcher as he entered his office, "How was your trip to Paradise? Enjoyable or…hazardous?"
"Hazardous, I believe," the traitor said with a grin.
"Have a seat then, and we'll begin to discuss business. Wolfram and Hart will be greatly benefited by your services."
Sirk sat down, inwardly sneering at the man whilst keeping a respective appearance on the outside.
"There's no way out," Yvonne whimpered and cried as she sat in the fetal position against the wall, "There's no way out!"
There'd better be¸ Tivona thought to herself as she scanned over the entire room to see if she could find any ventilation points around the whole area. Unfortunately, there were none to be found.
"There's no way out!"
"QUIET!"
The potential Slayer looked up from her point and stared at her friend, her eyes alit from tears.
"There is a way out somewhere in this room," the Warrioress screamed to her friend, more for herself, but, still to, "We will get out of here. There is a way and it will come to us!"
"Tivona," the young woman whispered, almost inaudibly, "Look."
The Warrioress of God slowly turned around. There, at the far right end of the room, stood an iron door.
"…Fascinating," Daniel muttered as Sirk finished his story, "And, how did you get those books away from the Council?"
"A trade secret, my friend," the traitorous bastard said with a sneer of contempt, "One of which I can use again, considering that my charge has yet to inform the Council. If she had managed to get in contact, then you would be dealing with the Council right now. However, since she hasn't, then my resignation has been received and they'll consider her to be mentally inadequate for duty and terminate her, and I'll be able to obtain 'articles' which I left behind."
"And you have no regard to her well-being whatsoever?"
"Never have."
"That door wasn't there before," Yvonne muttered, "I know it wasn't."
"We both know it wasn't," Tivona said, "I checked the room over, at least seven times, and it wasn't there. It can't have been there, even if it were shielded by magic, I would have felt it."
"Ok, let's think: the door can lead anywhere, you just said you wanted a way out."
"No. I said 'there is a way and it will come to us.'"
It was ridiculous, she knew it. This wasn't some kind of fairy tale room where anything she wanted would come true. No, this was reality…reality in which lived demons, werewolves, witches, and…God. Maybe it wasn't beyond the realm of impossibility. Maybe there were other ways. Maybe.
"…I know I'm making an ass out of myself, but," she took a breath and said, "There is, in this room,…a ton of gold."
"So, where exactly did the portal come out to, Sirk?"
"A bad neighborhood. The room was tricky to figure out, but, I got it."
"How does it work again?"
No gold appeared within the room.
"You have to say what is in the room, or rather, what you want to be in the room, only as if it already were in the room. And it won't do something like 'gold' or 'jewels,' I know. The room works towards a degree of control. It will provide you with what you need, not what you want. If you need books, like I did, it will give you books. If you need weaponry, it will give you weaponry. But, only if you need it. Not if you want it."
"I don't get it," Yvonne groaned aloud as she scanned the room, "You said there is. You said there is a door, and a door came. You said there's gold, and there isn't. What the Hell?"
"I don't know," the huntress wondered aloud, "I don't get why it worked the first time but didn't work the second."
"Maybe it was what you wished for."
"Wish…no, I didn't wish the first time. Wish, as in, want. I needed a door so I could get out. Now, when I wished, as in wanted a pile of gold, neither gold appeared and nor did the door remain. The second I said that something I wanted was there, everything was taken away. I…think I get it."
"What?"
She didn't respond. From her theory, so long as she wanted it, she wouldn't get it. However, if she needed it, then she would be given it. The basic law of 'Need versus Want,' or 'Be careful what you wish for,' and, of course, the Vatican trained code of 'God helps those who help themselves.' If this worked out well, then she may very well have access to the greatest power on the Earth that wasn't divine.
What she really needed right now was to get the Hell out of this room.
"There is a way out of this room," she shouted.
She turned her head…and there was a door.
"So," Sirk leaned back in his chair, getting comfortable, "What sort of a problem does the Warrior entail?"
"None, in reality," the demonic lawyer answered, "He prefers to keep out of our business. We have our enemies, he has his own. We, for right now, have to contend with the law offices of Lambert and Gabriel."
"Wait…Gabriel, the Archangel?"
"And Lambert, minus the 'ert,' comes out as…"
"The Lamb. Christ. Jesus Christ as a lawyer? That seems somehow…balanced."
"Nearly. If Satan or Antichrist were the defense or prosecution lawyers, then it would be balanced. However, unless that turns out to be the CEO or executive of the estate, then it's imbalanced."
"I really don't care, anyway. What I care about is how all this effects our deal."
"You upheld your end, and to that extent, so shall Wolfram and Hart. We've already informed out London office to be prepared for your arrival. The helicopter is ready for your arrival and will fly you from our offices to the airport."
Sirk stood up and began to gather his files, knowing that Jerkins intended for him to get started as soon as possible. He extended his hand and exchanged goodbyes with the lawyer, then walked out the door. Everything had gone perfectly to plan, and, unlike what he had expected, the scum of the Earth were actually doing their jobs. He sighed and entered the awaiting elevator.
Once he reached the landing pad, he climbed into the already active chopper and watched the Paradise skyline as he streaked across the far blue yonder.
Yvonne stood back as Tivona gripped the latch to the door and gently pulled back. For a moment, there was a bit of resistance, but it faded into nothing almost immediately. She moved backward to allow the door some space and watched as it let way into the dark hall. Grinning, she walked into the space.
The first thing she noticed was that there was very little light within the room. She noticed, also, that there was a golden hue along the wall. She looked at the light and noticed that it seemed to disappear when she stood at a different angle. She looked up and saw Yvonne staring at the same spot that she had seen. The two shared a look.
"I'll get it," the potential said, "I'm closer."
She walked along the hallway and grabbed the golden object, which was found to be a key. The two shared another look.
"Think it's to the door," Tivona asked.
"Don't know," Yvonne said, "Let's find out."
She turned around and walked up to the iron door and gripped the handle. She pulled the door shut and was about to place the key inside when she noticed something.
"Oh," she said whilst she pushed the door open, "There's a little bit of the lock messed up here. Must be why we had trouble getting out."
Wordlessly, she drew out her dagger and placed it atop the broken part. She pressed down as hard as she could and caused it to bend down underneath her force, causing the metal to become nearly symmetrical, not completely, but enough to allow the door to be completely shut.
"Lucky he didn't notice that," the Warrioress said.
"Yeah, now let's get-"
"Excuse me," a new voice said as someone began to walk down the nearby stairs.
"Oh, shit," the two whispered simultaneously.
"No need for the language, ladies," a man in a suit said as he descended the stairs, "I'm here at your service."
The huntress glared at the newcomer before she asked him who he was.
"My name is Gregory Plover, Attorney at Law," he said with a smile, "I am here as a representative of the law offices of Lambert and Gabriel."
For yet another instance, the two female warriors shared a look of confusion, before turning back to him.
"And…why would a member of, what sounds like, a powerful law firm be down here," the Warrioress asked, her hand reaching for her rune dagger as she did so.
"Well, for one," the man said, still upholding his smile, "You are a Warrioress and she is a potential Slayer. That kind of puts you into our territory."
Before he could blink, he was up against the wall, a powerful arm held up against his throat. Tivona glared into his soul and Yvonne came up and placed her blade against the poor man's throat. He seemed to be completely unsurprised by this.
"Who are you," the potential demanded, "And how do you know who we are?"
"I told you both," he said stubbornly, "I'm from Lambert and Gabriel. We're a law firm-"
"Why would a law firm be interested in us," Tivona snarled at him, and the stinging sensation of the blade began to increase against his skin.
"We're a divine law firm," he stated, "We work for the Christ and the Archangel Gabriel."
Tivona stared at him, taking in the man before him. His aura held no blood or disturbances one would usually find within an attorney, although they were the scum of the Earth and could have an aura cleansing done, but, even then, there would be faint traces of it left, enough for her to discern it. He, however, held an aura not too dissimilar from those of the Sister Henrietta. She had a white with a spot of gray aura, while this man had only a white aura, not blinding in the least, but, still white.
She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"Let him up," she muttered, and she backed away from him.
Yvonne hesitated for an instant, but did as her friend asked. Gregory sighed in relief as the pressure of the blade went away and rubbed his sore neck. When he took his hand away, he looked down upon it and saw that he had not been marked. Smiling, he reached down and straightened out his suit.
"Well," he muttered as he straightened his tie, "That was the, quite frankly, best death threat I've ever received."
"So," Tivona said, shaking the man out of his monologue, "You work for a law firm run by Jesus Christ and the Archangel Gabriel, right?" At his nod, she continued, "Where are we?"
"Why, you're in Paradise, Oregon," he said with a smile.
"Where's Sirk," Yvonne growled at him.
"I am afraid that…he is gone."
"What," the potential cried.
"You let him get away?"
"We didn't," the man hastened to defend their actions, "Our purpose here on Earth is to combat Wolfram and Hart, maintain the balance, not actually attempt to take them down. Please, if you want, I could take you to my offices and we could discuss the issue there?"
The two warriors shared a glance before turning back to him. They nodded as one.
"Wow, a limo," Yvonne muttered as the elongated vehicle moved down the lane, "I've always wanted to ride in one."
"Well, now you have," the attorney said.
Tivona just stared out the window. It was a huge city, probably around the size of LA. It was amazing to her that a city as huge as this one never made the news or was used for a movie. She watched along the streets and saw many interesting things that she had never seen in London. For one, she'd never seen a demon walk down the street without anyone staring. In Hollywood, sure, but not here. He must be camouflaged or something.
Another interesting thing, by her opinion, was the fact that there was a wedding being held inside the park. The wedding band was made up of people that she could tell were demons, and so could the crowd gathered, she wagered. But, that wasn't it. As they passed, she knew she heard something along the lines of heavy metal. She had to laugh at that. What moron picks out heavy metal for a wedding?
"What," Yvonne asked, noticing the laughter of her friend.
"Nothing," the Warrioress dismissed casually.
"We're here, ladies," Gregory announced as the limo pulled over into a dark alley.
"What," the potential Slayer asked, "What do ya mean, 'we're here?' There ain't no here to be here at!"
"Please," the attorney stated as he grabbed hold of his seat belt, "Fasten up."
For some reason, the Warrioress decided to go along with him. She reached over and buckled up, followed a half second later by Yvonne.
"Alright," he muttered with a smile, "Get ready."
Her limo revved its engines and took off at the wall.
"Oh, shit."
"Sir," a Wolfram and Hart associate said as she sat down beside Sirk, "My name is Simone Bradley. I'm going to be your liaison to the Senior Partners during your reign at the London office."
"I'm only going to be head of Ancient Studies and Mystics," the British man said as he looked down her shirt, "Why do I get a liaison?"
"The Senior Partners are very interested in what you stole from the Council," Simone said as she leaned forward to give him a better view, "And, they've asked me to insure that your journey be a pleasant one so that you are…well rested when you begin."
Sirk smiled at her. This was the best move he'd ever made.
"Dear God," Yvonne muttered as she looked up into the high room, "It's amazing."
"It's modeled after the temples and cathedrals at Notre Dam, St. Peter's Square, and various others around the world," Gregory said as he walked along the narrow line the limos and sports cars provided, "Wait till you see the offices, which are right up here."
He walked along the corridor until he came to a pair of double doors that had to be at least seventeen feet tall. He turned back to them and smiled.
"Ladies," he said, "Welcome to the law offices of Lambert and Gabriel."
He turned back and pushed both doors open. On the other side of the doors stood a magnificent hall carved out of jewels and gold. Bright sunlight was pouring in from beyond the columns, but it did not reflect against the brilliant material. All around the great hall were desks where men, women, demons, and spirits moved about, doing work for the firm. Above them were catwalks which led to private offices for the attorneys.
Gregory walked ahead, just barely, to show them the way. As he did so, he was passed along by a ghost.
"Gregory," it called out, "I have the list of the members going to the Pennies for Patients dinner next month."
"Excellent," the lawyer said as he took the list from the apparition, "Have you made my donation yet?"
"Yes, I have," the ghost smiled at him, "A hundred thousand, in your name."
"Thank you very much, Nicholas," with that, Gregory turned away and restarted his walk.
"Nicholas," Yvonne asked.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the spirit apologized, "My name is Nicholas Curter, at your service."
"No need," the Warrioress of God smiled at the spirit, "We should be fine. Thank you."
"You're most welcome, Warrioress."
Before she could ask him how he knew, he disappeared into the crowds. Frowning, Tivona turned and made to catch up with Gregory.
"This is my office," Gregory said as he entered one of the offices along the second level.
His office was not like the ones Tivona believed would be at Wolfram and Hart. His office was about twice the size of a college dorm room, with three desks, each filled with folders and papers. The window led out to nothing but clouds and the front desk held a very noteworthy computer. Along the walls were pictures of his family, though, not many.
"What exactly does your law firm do, Mr. Plover," Yvonne asked.
"As I said before, our main goal is to keep Wolfram and Hart at bay, keep them out of the picture, at least until the Champion arises," he sat down at this point and motioned for the girls to sit down as well, "However, we also keep other companies safe. Most charities that try to get founded are cut away by dirty corporations, the IRS, or debt. We try and help get these organizations on their feet, either directly through our own resources, or through donations such as the one I made today. We also try to keep certain things from reaching the press, specifically things involving demons. The people of this world need to be kept away from this threat unless it is absolutely necessary to bring them in and, if they are brought in, to train them. We have a special branch of Lambert and Gabriel dedicated to training good demon hunters, and to reforming those who have turned away. We're also trying to get someone inside of the Watcher's Council so they can start gathering information."
"Why," the potential Slayer asked.
"To prevent things like what happened to you, Ms. Badeau."
Tivona stared at the picture first up on his desk. It was of him and a beautiful woman with blonde hair. She picked it up and examined it.
"My old high school sweetheart, Joyce Summers," he said with a smile, "We had that taken at our high school reunion. She's divorced now, with a child. Buffy, she called her. She kept on complaining about how much trouble she had gotten into. Tore my heart up to not inform her that she was the Slayer."
"Wait, you know the mother of the Slayer," Yvonne asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Yes, I do," he answered with a smile, "Although, she is, technically no longer the Slayer. She is a Slayer, one of the Chosen Two."
"Chosen Two," both asked.
"Yes, she died for a moment and was brought back and a new Slayer was called, along with her, and now, there are two," Gregory stood up and looked out his window, "Ezekiel really came through on that one."
"Ezekiel," the Warrioress asked, "What did he do?"
"Oh, he stopped the Powers That Be from obtaining what they wanted."
"…And that was?"
"Well, the Powers That Be are the angels which oversee the events on Earth, underneath the guidance of God and Christ. However, in this day and age, they have begun to vi for power within Heaven. Politics, unfortunately, exist in the realm. And, so, the Powers hatched a plot to gain power through the new Slayer that will come in after Buffy, whomever she will be, or is now. Unfortunately, for them, Ezekiel showed up and put the brakes on their machine. Right now, Christ is major league infuriated at the Powers and is wondering what should be done about them. They acted outside the plan and now, we may have rogue agents around."
"Can we do anything," Tivona asked.
"No, you can't," the man sighed, a look of sadness inside his eyes, "The Powers, while being greedy, are still good, at least for now. They will not be reprieved until it is absolutely necessary. Or, at least, that's what I've been told. Now, I called you in here to give you two pieces of valuable information. Would you please draw your rune daggers out?"
They both reached along their belts and gripped their blades, hesitated for a moment, then withdrew them. Each placed their own beside each other on the table.
"Ah, he was right," Plover muttered to himself as he examined the daggers, "Yes, very right. OK, my friends, these daggers are called rune daggers, as you are well aware. Each rune dagger has a specific purpose and power. Yours, Warrioress, is meant to slay demons and shall force awareness upon you. Basically, that means that if you get knocked unconscious, it will try and wake you up, and will wake you up if it senses danger. Yours, Ms. Badeau, is meant to kill those who use magic, be it white or black, and it can resist spells. That's why you did not wake up when you were being held in the village, like Tivona did. It was trying to throw the spell off and it would be able to do that better if you were not awake."
He turned away from them and went to his chest of drawers on the left wall. He opened the top drawer and withdrew a dagger. It had a purple handle and a…
"Is that diamond," Yvonne asked in wonder.
"Yes, it is," the lawyer said as he laid the weapon down upon his desk, situated between the two daggers.
Tivona did not say anything, for she was staring at the blade. All the light that appeared in the room seemed to be migrating to the magnificent weapon. There were runes along the blade, carved in by another diamond, perhaps. She did not recognize any of them.
"This dagger," the attorney muttered, "Is designed with one purpose and one purpose only: to kill vampires. Whenever you stab a vampire through the heart with this weapon, it will die. For good. Also, do you notice how the light seems to be drawn to the blade?" At their nods, he continued, "It collects all the particles within the light, but specifically the ones that cause vampires to combust. Ms. Badeau, I want to trade you: your dagger for this one."
"But, my friend, Jacque gave it to me," the potential Slayer said in defiance, "I could never give up anything like that."
"Think of it this way," Gregory said, "That blade is designed to ward off magic and kill magic users. This is meant to kill vampires. Vampires, which happen to be plentiful in New Orleans. Now, if your friend truly cares for you, don't you think he'll want you to have something that will keep you safer than what he gave you?"
For a moment, Yvonne struggled to argue with him, but, she could find nothing to say. She knew, in her heart, that her old friend would want her to have the best chance at life. Considering that she was a potential and, if she were ever called, then he would want her to do this just for his sake and his piece of mind, not only to keep her safe. He knew the risks of the job, and he hated them. He would want her to do this, she knew it.
Her resolve now recalibrated, she nodded. Smiling, the attorney took the green handled blade and held out the purple one to the potential Slayer, who accepted the gift graciously. The lawyer then laid the blade down in front of Tivona and slowly pushed it forward.
"What," she asked, not understanding what he wanted her to do with it.
"It does not belong to you," Plover said, "Nor does it belong to her. It goes to someone else."
"How do you know so much about these weapons," the Warrioress said, her voice low, a clear threat.
"I was given a file on it by my boss," he explained, "It told me about three of these weapons and who had them, one of which becoming me when I received it from Gabriel."
"You met Gabriel," the huntress asked, her voice filled with awe.
"I did," he answered, "He told me about the rune daggers and gave me the file for Ezekiel, which he should tell you about eventually."
"If I ever see him," the Warrioress muttered to herself.
"Actually, that's the other bit of information I have to give you," he said with a smile, "After we drop off your friend here so she can go home, we're going to take you to Ezekiel. Speaking of which, we'd better get going if we want to get there before nightfall. Come on."
Tivona examined the room in which they had been stuck in for a few hours thoughtfully. It would be a great asset to their war and would be very comforting if ever the need arose. She moved aside from the doorway to allow some of the firm workers who had been contracted to change the locks on the door. It was possible for Sirk to have cloned a key and they were making sure he wouldn't be able to get inside if he returned.
The room itself had been created originally by her friend's ancestor to hide Confederate soldiers and keep supplies up inside of the small area. That way, if the Union managed to cut off their supplies from the sea, like they did, they would be able to get some from the Pacific. Unfortunately, one of the officers decided to try his luck and ask for a load of gunpowder. Right when a private was lighting his pipe. The explosion was heard for miles and the wooden building, save the room, had been destroyed. Then, the industrial revolution came about and the site was used to create an apartment complex, which was also eventually destroyed and turned into a more up-to-date apartment complex.
Sighing, she turned her attention back to her friend. Yvonne was standing in the center of the room, staring up at the point from which they had fallen. Silently, the Warrioress walked up behind her friend and put an arm on her shoulder. The Slayer in training didn't even jump when she felt the hand, she just turned and stared the girl in the eye. For a moment, they remained this way, staring at each other, memorizing every single detail about each other's face, body, and soul. Then, they went forward and embraced each other.
"I'll see you sometime soon, I know it," Yvonne whispered.
"I know," the Warrioress said.
After another moment, they broke apart. Yvonne smiled once and turned back to their arrival point.
"There is a way home here," she called out.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, however, a mass of black appeared out of nowhere, right in front of them. The black space turned into a doorframe and the black began to fade away, revealing the spacious room of the Louisiana mansion. Yvonne went forward and stepped across the threshold, head held high. She began to turn back just as the door evaporated.
Sighing and already missing her friend, she stared at the space, willing it to return, but never vocalizing it. She looked up when she felt a strong arm touch her shoulder and looked into Gregory's smiling face.
"My niece died when she was seven," he said to her, and he pulled her about and began to walk her out the room, "She was killed by a drunk driver. This driver just so happened to be working for Wolfram and Hart. I filed criminal charges and civil charges for her hospital bills, but, I lost. Then, I was approached by my best friend, Monica, who was working in Lambert and Gabriel as a currier. She offered me a job and…I took it. At the time, I had no idea what I was getting into. Now, however, I really do…and I wouldn't trade it, except for that little girl back."
He sighed as they reached the top of the stairs, which led out of the basement and down a hall which led to the front lobby. For a moment, he paused to collect himself, and turned back to her.
"You're going to do great things in this world, Tivona," he said to her, "You already have. Keep up the good work."
With that, he let her go and walked out of the hall. The Warrioress looked after him, wondering why he did what he did. He didn't have a duty like she did. But, then again, he did. He had a duty to everyone, or, at least, he thought he did. Groaning, she remembered what else he had promised. She ran after him and caught him just as he was entering his limo in the night sky.
"Where does my brother live," she called out.
"Just upstairs," the lawyer said, and he pointed up at one of the windows.
Smiling, the Warrioress of God waved to the Lawyer of God, or one of many, and reentered the complex. As she did so, she noticed a pretty brunette in a tight blouse walk down the stairs. She held an envelope in her grasp, one which appeared to be from Vatican City. She walked up to the woman, hoping that she knew where she might find Ezekiel.
"Excuse me," she said, "I'm looking for Ezekiel. Is he in?"
"Who are you," the woman responded immediately, a hint, no, a gallon of jealousy in her voice, "How do you know Ezekiel? Why do you want to see him?"
"His sister, family, and I'm his sister. Who the Hell are you?"
"I'm Whitney," she responded, her gaze still icy, "So…You're my Zekey's sister, huh?"
Zekey? What the fuck?
"I don't know who 'Zekey' is," she responded with a grin, "But, I am Ezekiel's sister, yes."
"How do I know?"
"You just have to trust me," she growled at the irate woman, "Now, which room is he in?"
Finally, she told her. The Warrioress didn't even bother to say 'thank you' for it, she just walked up the stairs and walked into the unlocked room.
Ezekiel sighed joyfully as he walked inside the apartment building that evening. The wedding had gone off without a hitch, thank God, no fucking demons anywhere, except for the Surge band, but, they were all disguised and being paid to be there, so, they wouldn't cause a problem.
As he walked inside, he was intercepted by his landlady, Whitney. She leered at him, and he became extremely uncomfortable underneath her gaze.
Think of the money¸ he reminded himself, And how I'm screwing the church over.
"Hey, Zekey," Dear God, forgive me if I kill her, "Just wanted to give you this."
He braced himself, wondering what the woman wanted to give him, and had a declination on his lips before she held it out: an envelope addressed from Vatican City.
"As per our agreement," she said, downtrodden, "All your rent is free. I wish I would have thought better before that, I could have made it once a month. But, it was worth it."
Ezekiel was a Warrior of God. Trained by the worst beings, and the best beings, in the history of the Catholic Church. He had seen devils, demons, serpents, and the foulest creatures that Hell's gates had to throw at him. Yet, nothing prepared him for her next statement.
"Oh, by the way," she said, "Your sister arrived around half an hour ago. She's up in your room."
"What," the Warrior asked, "What did you say?"
"I said 'your sister is up in your room.' She wasn't nice to me."
"Well, that confirms it," he said with a smile, "That's my sister. Bye."
Ezekiel charged up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he reached the room, his door was ajar, waiting for him. He entered and looked around for his sister, not sensing her anywhere.
"You know," he heard a voice from his bedroom, "You really should start doing more housework."
The Warrior of God walked slowly and entered his bedroom, eyes widened. There, sitting on his bed, was a beautiful, redheaded Warrioress of God.
"Dawn," he asked.
"Alex," she greeted.
Suddenly, she sprung up and launched herself at him. He felt her wrap her arms around him and he returned the gesture with every bit of warmth his heart would allow.