From : Chihuahua
Date : 16th March 2003
Disclaimer : I don't own any of the TRA:JQ characters and neither do I own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No money is made out of this fic. Don't sue me as I'm not sure I can afford Ally McBeal.
Category : A, JJ-HR, DBN-HR, F, E, JQ/Buffy Crossover
Rating : Parental guidance is advised.
Author's note : This takes place after Season 2 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is my account on what happens and is based fully on my own creativity.
Archiver's Permission: Granted to those who want it. Just inform me on where it can be found.
THE QUEST CHRONICLES: SLAYER
Prologue:
A silent figure crept along the angular shaded areas of the hall, each step reflecting a practised caution, a natural air of awareness. Turning a doorknob silently, the shadow gave the door a slight push before melting into the new darkness that it revealed. The door closed behind, not a creak to give the shadow away.
Jonny threw back the hood of his dark sweatshirt, revealing his soaked face. His tousled blonde hair was a tangled mess; soaked through and limp, tumbling carelessly over his forehead. As silently as before, he pulled open his closet door and disappeared into it, snatching up a duffel, which he knew lay just under a shelf. He tossed it onto his bed, ignoring the slight rustle it made on contact.
He continued to rummage through his clothes, selecting only a few articles that would serve him dutifully enough. He pulled out a few pairs of jeans, cargo pants and a few T-shirts. He stuffed the clothes neatly into the canvas duffel, making sure to include a light sweater. Other miscellaneous articles such as underwear and toiletries soon filled up the remaining space.
Suddenly, a light pawing shattered the silence he had so painstakingly maintained. Bandit! Behind the pawing he heard light footsteps pacing their way towards his room.
In a moment, Jonny had flung open his bedroom window, slinging his bag over his shoulder; he dropped himself as carefully as he could to the ground beneath him, landing softly on the wet grass. Without missing a beat, he took off, pulling his hood over his head as he ran, his boots thumping heavily over the sodden ground, not caring how much noise he made. Rain lashed mercilessly at him, threatening to make him lose his footing as he ran. In a moment, the security system, which he had successfully overridden, would kick back into running mode, and all chances of escape would be dashed.
He had only one chance, and he knew it. The high perimeter wall loomed ahead in the inky darkness, only fractionally visible in the pale moonlight. When he was about five feet from the wall, Jonny manoeuvred his bag deftly and tossed it over the wall, and without breaking his stride, he leapt. Given his newly discovered abilities, his leap carried him over five feet high. Reaching out, his fingers secured a firm grip on the rough stone surface, though it was treacherously slippery. His inertia slammed his body painfully onto the solid surface but he ignored the pain. Moving as though instinctively, he threw his left leg over the wall, followed by his right, before dropping to the ground below. He picked up his duffel and continued running. During his sprint, Jonny risked a look at the stopwatch he had set. His flight had taken a mere minute, making it fully possible to escape the confines of the Compound before Hadji had reset it. Considering the distance between the mansion and the nearest point of the perimeter fence that guarded it from any intrusion, it had taken him less than half the time it would take a fit adult to cover the grounds.
Jonny grimaced. The shadow was right. He was what the prophecy had claimed him to be…
CHAPTER 1: STAKE IN HAND
The rain had not let up, winds whipping anything in its way up and tossing it almost playfully in its grasp. Jonny tugged his sweatshirt even closer to him, trying to insulate himself from the harsh conditions. His efforts were to no avail. Even the optimist in him knew that if he didn't find some sort of shelter soon, and change from his rain-saturated clothes, pneumonia wasn't a hard thing to catch.
Jonny glance momentarily at his watch. He had been waiting in whatever shelter the flimsy bus stop had been able to provide for the past half an hour. The winds howled around him, dealing blows of freezing cold that caused his bones to ache at the marrows. The temperature was still rather low for a Maine summer and it had dropped even further when this rainstorm had blown over the area.
He tried to warm himself up by walking around the confined area, rubbing his palms together, trying to get the circulation back in them. His boots was the only thing that had not suffered much of the wrath of the storm as they had been treated with some experimental solution his father had been developing, resulting in waterproof and fireproof grey suede boots. The only drawback was that the boots used to be a tawny brown.
On the bright side, at least my feet are dry, he thought cynically. He shivered involuntarily, realising how little insulation from cold a sweatshirt and jean cut-offs provided. He had meant to change to warmer outfits, when he had heard Bandit pawing frantically at his door.
Stupid mutt! He thought viciously. But he didn't mean it at all. In fact, he had almost opened the door to let the small dog welcome him with lavish licks, had he not realised that Bandit's pawing would most definitely bring others with him.
Twin headlights jolted Jonny back to the numbing reality. Braving the lashing rain for a moment, Jonny stuck out his thumb, hoping desperately that whoever the driver was wouldn't mind letting a soaked hitchhiker hitch a ride.
A truck came into view, and roared past him. The heat from the engine had delivered a moment of warmth as it rumbled past. Dejected, Jonny got back into the shed, looking out for other vehicles to thumb down.
Suddenly, he realised that the truck had pulled to a halt several feet away. Keeping his fingers crossed, he trotted over, and pulled the door open.
"Where ya headed?" came a call from the dark interior.
"As far as you can take me," Jonny said, trying to see who he was talking to.
"I'm going as far as Boston."
"Good enough!" Jonny hopped into the cab, and made himself as comfortable as possible as the truck began to move. He shivered involuntarily from the chill. His wet clothes clung to him, his hair covering most his eyes.
"You look frozen, mate," the driver chuckled. "I'll make a short stop at the next gas station or something for you to get out of those." He pointed at Jonny's sopping garments. "Maybe some hot coffee too."
"Thanks." Jonny smiled wanly, though he doubted that the driver could have seen the smile in the dark. His rubbed his hands together, trying to bring some warmth to them. Problem with being too darn slender… his body temperature was very easily affected by any rapid shift in the surrounding temperature. Race had constantly lectured him on having less than two percent body fat, telling him that it was fine for indoor swimming, but if he were ever to do the oceans, he would definitely suffer from hypothermia.
Damn! I hate it when Race's always right.
"How far away is the next stop?" Jonny asked, turning to face the driver.
"Twenty miles give or take."
Jonny held out his hand. "By the way, I'm Brett. Thanks for the ride."
The driver stuck out a thick paw, double the thickness of Jonny's hand and shook it, while never taking his eyes of the road. "Name's Burt. Now, where are ya headed?"
Jonny hesitated a moment.
Burt saw his hesitation and added, "Ya don't hafta tell me if it's private. I'm just nosin' around, making small talk, that kinda thing, ya know?"
"I'm headed for Louisiana." It was the first place that came to mind. He hoped it sounded convincing.
Burt whistled. "Pretty long way to be on the road. Why the long trip?"
"Personal issues…" Jonny trailed off in a thoughtful manner, which he simply did not share. It was just a simple case of fleeing trouble to him.
The neon lights of a gas station loomed ahead. Jonny noticed that some areas were darkened off, probably from blown out lights. Not that it mattered much to him, he was just stopping for a quick change of clothes.
The gas station was a small building, with three gas pumps. The shop was closed for the night, but the restrooms were thankfully left unlocked. Darting inside with his duffel, he stripped off his wet clothes, tossing them into a plastic bag before tucking it neatly away in his duffel. He pulled on a powder blue long-sleeved turtleneck T-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans, before fingering his hair into place. Tucking a few stray ends behind his ears, he exited the place.
Burt was waiting for him, leaning against a vending machine. Surprisingly, it was functional as Burt handed him a steaming cup of cocoa as he sipped from his own polystyrene cup. It was definitely coffee, as Jonny could smell the aroma. Personally, he would have preferred coffee, but he wasn't about to complain. Any source of warmth was welcome with him.
He sipped tentatively at his drink, feeling the hot liquid coursing its way down his throat. It scalded his tongue a little, but he couldn't have cared less at the moment. He nursed the cup in his clammy hands, warming them as best he could. When he finally felt warmed, he finished the remainder of his cocoa and tossed the cup into a trashcan situated next to the vending machine.
Jonny looked around, surveying his surroundings with utmost scrutiny, taking in every shadow, every movement, his trained vision looking out for anything out of the ordinary. Unconsciously, his right hand grabbed at a stake he always tucked at his waistband. He could feel his spare in his right boot. Grimacing slightly, he turned towards the truck and got ready to continue.
Burt was already behind the wheel, tapping a steady rhythm on the steering wheel. Over the static, Jonny could hear a few strains of some country song. He slid into the seat beside Burt and made himself as comfortable as possible. The truck jerked forward and they were on the road once more. Jonny didn't bother looking back. How far he was already from it… how long ago had he left it? When would he return?
The steady rumble of the engine didn't affect his train of thought.
***
Buffy Summers shouldered her bag and took a small hop off the cranky bus she had been on for the past ten hours. Her feet made a soft thud as she landed on the sidewalk. Her shadow was long, beneath the streetlamp. Instinctively, her senses went to work, scouting the area for any demonic activity. Her body tensed, getting ready to spring into action.
Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Without a moment's thought, she whirled around, hands ready to pulp any ridged-brow demon hybrid's face. She came face to face with an elderly lady. Buffy recognised her as the woman sitting in the row in front of her. Her fists immediately dropped to her sides.
"I'm sorry to startle you, dearie. I just wanted to tell you that there's a motel further up this street, that's if you don't already have any lodgings," the lady said, smiling gently. Her southern drawl was rather pleasing to the ear.
Buffy smiled gratefully. "Thank you." Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she began trotting over in the direction of the motel. She sniffed the night air, taking in the stench of the garbage left to rot in the dark alleys. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and quickened her pace.
Suddenly, she whipped out a stake from a pocket sewn inside her jacket and spun around… to be greeted by a snarling vamp. Buffy smiled sardonically, before slamming a palm directly under the vamp's chin, slamming its jaw shut. The clack of bone was loud enough to raise her spirits. Then, she slammed a heavy backhand into its face before kicking it at the sternum, hearing the bones crack with some satisfaction. Before the vamp had any time to recover from the brutal assault, she plunged the stake deep into its chest, the wood finding and puncturing the heart. Where the vamp had stood a second ago, was now covered with a fine layer of dust.
Buffy looked around, waiting for another assault. Finally satisfied, she tucked her stake back into her jacket. No rest for the exhausted, she chagrined. The motel was a sorry sight, the door itself looked as if it was going to fall off its rusty hinges. After she paid the night in advance, Buffy headed for her room, following the vague instructions of the guy at the counter.
The room was in no better condition than the rest of the building, but she let that pass. The walls; which were once a shade of green, were peeling, the carpet worn-out in many areas. She dumped her stuff on the floor and threw herself onto the bed. At least it was relatively comfortable, as compared to a bus seat. It was also surprisingly clean.
Sighing softly, she pulled herself into a sitting position. She knew what she needed more than anything right now.
A good hot shower. But she would settle for a cold one anyway.
***
Jonny opened his eyes, and immediately shut them again, shutting out the blinding glare of the morning sun. Blobby shapes danced about his vision. Slowly, he opened them again, slowly letting them adjust to the startling light.
"Mornin'!" a friendly call greeted him.
Jonny turned and saw Burt smiling jovially at him. Another bloody morning person, he thought viciously.
"Mornin'," he returned, merely repeating Burt's tone. "How long have I been out?"
Burt whistled. "You've been out for hours, boy!" He checked his watch briefly. "Give or take, six hours."
"Whoa!" Jonny exclaimed. "That's long."
Burt simply chuckled. "We'll be hitting Boston soon. You want me to hook you up with anyone? I've got a few buddies who'll be heading further down south," he offered.
Jonny shook his head, hoping that his declination seemed polite. "That's okay, thanks. I'll find my own way about."
Burt shrugged his shoulders, but his brow creased slightly. Why would anyone decline an offer of an easy ride? What was the kid afraid of? He let it pass. It wasn't like he was the kid's parent or anything. He promised a trip as far as Boston, that's all.
Jonny pretended to be oblivious to Burt's expression, but he had his own reasons to decline the offer. He needed to travel anonymously, and make his trail as light as possible. If he had accepted the offer, he would have to use the same name all the way, and provided the cops were smart enough, his trail would probably be fairly easy to follow. It wasn't a chance he would like to take, as the probability of trouble seemed high enough for him to shun it.
"How much longer till we hit Boston?"
"Another two hours or so. Don't you just hate these long windy roads?"
Jonny nodded.
The rest of the trip was an experience Jonny couldn't forget. Two hours of excruciatingly painful banter about nothing with lies to fill in the gaps.
***
"How the heck did he do it?"
"Do what?"
"Get through the security and get out before the system kicked on again, that's what."
Hadji smiled gently. "He's Jonny. I think that should pretty much explain everything."
Race sighed. "Okay, I guess that explains how he managed to override the system, but that does not explain how he managed to get out in less than sixty seconds. The nearest point from the mansion to the Compound perimeter is approximately five hundred metres. There's no way he could have cleared that much ground under a minute."
Hadji mulled over the matter briefly, before showing his agreement. "You're right. It would have taken a truly blessed individual to have been able to perform such a feat."
After a moment of silence, they both said in unison, "Then again, it's Jonny!"
Hadji chuckled slightly, despite himself. "You once said that he could jump into a lake and come out dry. I guess now he can make a five hundred metre dash in under a minute."
"He just isn't human, that kid," Race declared, with a note of finality in his voice, although it carried a tinge of desperation.
"On the contrary, he's very much human," a smooth baritone interrupted. "In fact, he could be one of humanity's last chances of survival."
"You found the backdoor he implanted into the system?" Race asked.
Benton nodded. "Quite ingenious actually. It was a dormant bug, in which Jonny made his own override access code. Once the code was imputed, the system would temporarily suspend, until the backdoor was closed." Benton sighed audibly. "I guess that teaches me a valuable lesson, never trust Jonny with any debugging assignment. Especially not a complex security system. It's too darn tempting for him."
"Didn't you give the system a once over before certifying it, Father?" Hadji enquired, tapping his slender fingers on the tabletop.
Benton nodded. "But I wasn't as thorough as I thought I was. This is proof of that."
The three were silent for a few minutes, the intensity of the situation overpowering them.
"Maybe he didn't get out," Hadji suggested. "Maybe he's still within the Com…"
"I've already checked that possibility. Heat scanners aren't showing any heat patterns big enough to be that of a seventeen year old boy," Benton replied.
"Unless maybe the kid's code blocked off more then simply the security. Maybe the heat sensors were also affected," Race offered.
Benton nodded gravely. "There's only one thing that makes that theory less than feasible to me. It's Jonny we're talking about, not some other reckless teenager. He would not leave us vulnerable like that."
"That brings us back to square one, Doc."
There was no reply.
"What if he's never found?" Hadji asked.
"The consequences could be more dire than expected, if that should transpire."
***
Race slipped into the inky darkness that had once been Jessie's room. It had been nearly a week, and yet the grief was still so close to him. Only a week. Race let it loose, releasing all his frustrated agony. Tears dripped off his angled cheekbones, plunging to their undoing on the carpeted floor.
He sank into the soft beanbag, gazing upwards. Each breath brought in a part of her; he could still smell her scent, as if she had just left the room. So young… so much ahead of her. Why God, why? Why did she have to go so soon? WHY?
Tears continued to stream effortlessly down his stubbly cheeks.
"Race, you okay?" a gentle voice invaded his inward ranting.
"I'm fine," he replied in a clipped voice.
Benton stepped into the room, his footsteps muted by the plush carpet. Invading Jessie's room!
Race leapt to his feet. "Leave!" he said, stoically.
"Race, talk to me. You need to let it out," Benton reasoned, backing away slightly at the sight of the hulking figure.
"You don't understand… she's none of your business."
"She IS my business. Just as you are my business. We; Hadji, Jonny and me, we care for you!"
"She's gone, Benton. Gone! And I wasn't there to protect her. Her Daddy wasn't there at the end…" Race wept openly now. "I wasn't there!"
Benton pulled Race into a comforting hug. "She knew that you would have been there if you could. It's okay, Race. It wasn't your fault."
"And now, Jonny. Jonny's gone too… I failed, Benton. I failed miserably. As a father. As a bodyguard."
"You failed no one. Jonny ran away, there was nothing you could have done." Benton felt his own tears trickling down his face. "Let's just hope that he'll return soon."
Race stepped back, his face grim. "Is there something you're not telling me, Benton?" His icy irises pierced the darkness… glinting dangerously, as if daring Benton to lie.
"Why do you ask?" was the cool response.
"Oh, nothing… except for the fact that you're using that tone that usually pronounces a dire situation. And I'm totally unaware of this situation. And I hate surprises, or rather shocks!"
"When the time comes, Race. Not now… not when he's not back." There was a note of finality in his voice that even Race didn't want to test. These were one of the rare occasions in which the doc would become highly unpredictable. Race grimaced at the memory of when he had seen the doc totally lose his cool. Race would have put good money on the kid never ever wanting anything to do with the doc. Another rookie from the I-1 got a good lashing from the doc's verbal abuse. Heck, even Corbin was wary around the doc.
Race decided to let it go. For now anyway.
"Get some rest, Race. You've hardly had six hours sleep in the past thirty hours." Benton's expression has softened again, showing his genuine concern for the younger man. He received a nod in response.
***
A slender silhouette flicked a quick glance to either direction, before leaping onto a dumpster, and with barely a second in between before a similar motion carried him the remaining three feet above, making it possible for him to hoist himself onto the rickety stairs of an emergency escape route. The shadows hid him well, and Jonny felt relatively safe. The neighbourhood was still quiet, dawn was hardly an hour away.
He made his way stealthily towards the abandoned apartment he had found a couple of days ago. It wasn't much, pretty much as dirty and dusty as they came, but it provided shelter from the rain. He slid into the apartment and yanked the filthy curtains across the window, allowing himself some privacy and making some allowance for some light. It had been an exhausting night, and he showed the wear and tear of the experience. A long gash ran down his right arm while a bruise was already forming just at his right cheekbone.
Six vampires on one, he was lucky to have gotten out alive. Too bad for them, none of them made it out alive… or dead, so to speak. The only evidence that a fight had taken place were the crushed aluminium trashcans he had landed heavily on and the sprinklings of dust in different areas of the alley.
Jonny grimaced at the condition of the T-shirt he had been wearing. It reeked of sour fruit and rotten stuff. He needed a shower, badly, and he knew one place he could get it. The local high school. He knew it always opened at about seven-thirty, when the janitor came. He would simply have to slip in and take a quick shower before making his exit. It wouldn't matter much if there were people around. After all, how strange was a teenager in a high school?
Till then, Jonny decided to take a short nap. His joints ached slightly from the pounding he had received barely three hours ago. He knew his wounds would heal, in a fraction of the time it would take an average human being. But then again, those were the perks that came in his Slayer package, not that he had the choice.
He had no choice.
To be continued…
Comments anyone? Send them to me at wenxina@hotmail.com