Summary: Certain books have found their way to Sunnydale, pre-Buffy.
Disclaimer: I dun' own nuttin'!
Feedback, it makes me write faster. (You know you want to do the feedback thing.)
Pre-Fic Comments:
I'm tempted to cross in a ninja anime, but that would be too much too soon. So I'll be good :)
* * *
Buffy and Xander were looking for Willow -- they'd tried her house, and had only found an email from 'Malcolm' on her computer screen, saying 'No more waiting, I need you to see me.' Giles and Jesse were trying to convince Ms Calendar that demons existed, and one was in the Internet in some fashion.
"See him? How? Where?," Buffy thought out loud.
"What about CRD?," Xander said.
"The research place?"
"I'm guessing that's Moloch central."
"Guessing that's our best lead," Buffy agreed. "Let's just hope Giles can back us up."
They telephoned Giles, then made their way to Calax Research. Buffy easily leapt over the fence, Xander following slowly. He took off his gloves, revealing the Tarbaby Rune's extension as well as several other new lines.
"Those look new," Buffy commented as they jogged to the entrance.
"Hyena," Xander said. "It could access my memories and wanted more power."
"Ah," Buffy said as she kicked the doors in.
They knocked out the security guard, then got a few rooms into the building before the security lockdown kicked in. Red lights turned on, and a faint hissing of gas could be heard.
Xander started throwing small fireballs at the door from one of his new Runes, and Buffy started kicking at the thing, avoiding Xander's projectiles. Between the two of them, the portal quickly opened.
Moloch was in a Terminator-like body, without the organic material. It was a far cry from the sophisticated face presented in the computer screen, yet had the promise of achieving that. The demon was clutching it's metal head, feeling the effects of Ms Calendar's technopagan coven binding it. Buffy jumped at the demon, kicking it. All she succeeded in was hurting her foot.
A technician grabbed Xander from behind. He absently electrocuted the man, then started untying Willow from where Moloch had been trying to convince her to join him.
Then Moloch stopped screaming. He was bound in the robot, exorcised from the Internet.
"Come on, Buffy," Xander pleaded as him and Willow started moving towards the exit. "Let's go this way!"
"Wait!," Buffy said.
Moloch broke through the wall, then punched Xander into a wall. The youth sat there, getting his bearings. Buffy quickly followed.
"I was omnipotent!," the demon raged. "I was everything! Now I'm trapped in this shell!"
Moloch reached for Buffy's skull, his intentions obvious.
"Malcolm!," Willow shouted. "Remember me, your girlfriend?"
The demon turned, to see Willow with a fire extinguisher. She bashed him over the head with it.
"Well, I think it's time we break up!"
/Thwack/ again.
"Or maybe we can still be friends!"
Xander, his mind turning over again, got up. "I think he needs a pick-me-up, Will."
Willow gestured to go right ahead. Xander drew a breath, then unloaded the mother of all lightning bolts into the robotic demon. He then collapsed against the wall again.
The demon exploded, the cheaply made motors and servo's unable to cope with the power overload.
* * *
The demonic vampire shuddered briefly. Sometimes he'd rather be Baseball Billy again, even if he had been a weakling who had gotten shaken down for lunch money each week.
"Come now," the Master said. "I promise not to bite. Much."
"I-I'm only the messenger," Billy said. "I got a message from Lasombra through Adam for you."
"Is he one of those /new/ vampires I've been hearing about?," the Master asked, intrigued.
"Y-Yeah. Uh, he wants to t-talk with you," Billy stuttered. All his instincts were telling him to run like hell.
"Why?," Darla asked. "What does this Lasombra hope to gain?"
The demonic vampire paled, which was impressive considering what his complexion normally was. "Uh, I don't know. He doesn't tell me these things."
"He's the new Sunnydale Master, isn't he?," the Master mused out loud. A tone of hate could be heard tinging his words.
Billy nodded.
"Tell him I'm willing to talk to him, but am unable to leave here, so he will have to come to me," the Master said.
* * *
Giles woke up to another person knocking on his door. He yawned, getting his glasses and making his way downstairs.
/Knock Knock Knock/
"I'm coming," he shouted. "Keep your shirt on!"
He opened it to the sight of four men in black. He recognised all of them.
"Oh," the Watcher said. "I-I've been sending in my reports, if that's what the problem is."
"That isn't it," Bill said. "Can we come in?"
"Be my guest," Giles said.
The four entered, standing in his living room.
"Ah, I'm afraid I don't have any beer or anything to offer except tea," Giles said.
"That isn't the problem," Bill said. "The problem is all these bloody vampires you've let be created, Ripper."
Giles straightened up. "I think you'll find that we did the best we could and can."
"Gettin' civvies involved, too," Bill continued.
"They've been a real help!," Giles protested. "Without those three, the Bronze situations would have been a hundred times worse!"
"That's the only reason we're talking to you rather than what Travers and his crowd were calling for," Bill said. "We're to observe you carrying out your duties, and report back on you to the Council."
Giles sighed, collapsing on his favourite armchair. "Bloody wonderful."
Wasn't even six in the morning and already the day was shot to hell.
* * *
Tim Smith smiled at the gangster. The gangster was an aging man who owned a small bar, and controlled half the city.
"So you're promising me eternal life if I sign this contract in blood?," the old man asked. His name was Thomas Angelo, a pragmatic man who believed in no God, and no Devil. "There ain't no way that you'll welch on it?"
"Exactly," Tim said, showing his fangs as he smiled.
Thomas looked over the contract. It had an unconditional loyalty clause as well as numerous others... bah. He had absolutely no intention of following through with it once he'd gotten what he wanted.
"Gimme your pen or whatever the hell I'm supposed to use," Thomas said. He had no intentions of /fulfulling/ this contract that this asshole had, but whatever science had created him, /he wanted it/. The fellow had demonstrated healing like he had never seen, and the old man could use that.
Smith produced a sharpened length of wood. The old Don got out a knife, and slid the blade across the back of his hand. He dipped the point of the wood in the blood, then put his name to the contract.