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:
Hopefully, this part will clear up some of the problems some people are having.
* * *
Lasombra looked up, incredulous.
"You have /got/ to be kidding," he said.
Billy shook his head. "Straight up, Boss. A couple of ten foot tall and bulletproof werewolves jumped down from the rooftops, ripped Adam apart and ran off with him."
Lasombra pulled out a packet of cigarettes, lit one then thought for a moment.
"Uh, Boss," Billy began tentatively. "I didn't know you smoked."
"I figured if the stress from managing you shits wouldn't kill me, these wouldn't either," the vampire said dryly. "What do we know about these wolves? Bikers?"
The demonic vampire nodded. "Uh, they had leathers on. I can get some more information if you want -- I know a guy who knows a guy."
Lasombra tapped the cigarette on the ashtray, dislodging the burnt dross. "Do that. Billy, I want you to stay out of the action, try and pick up where Robert left off."
"The werewolf vamp guy?," Billy asked.
"The Gangrel, yes," Lasombra corrected him. "Perhaps he wasn't caught in the sunlight after all."
"Ah, Boss, are you sure you want me doing your spywork?," Billy asked.
"You've proven yourself to be most adept at escaping sticky situations, and to be most inept at fighting," Lasombra said. "On your way out, tell Johnson to come in. Oh, and try shaking down the barkeep at 'Willy's Alibi'."
* * *
Giles woke up again to the sound of someone knocking on his door at four in the morning. He snorted, drawing in the fumes of ink and china clay.
"Hold your horses!," he yelled. "If this doesn't involve the end of the world, you'd better find a bloody good excuse!"
He put a bookmark in the Forgotten Realms sourcebook -- these days, what with the Rite and Reversal, he was using them as much as thousand year old tomes -- and got up, stretching.
He opened the door to a quite unexpected person. The Drow priestess from the last Metal Night.
"Oh. You."
He couldn't remember which deity she followed, but he sincerely hoped that she was a priestess of Eilistraee, and not Lloth.
* * *
Xander, Buffy, Jesse and Willow all had free period, and so decided to find Giles. They didn't find him in his usual haunt, and roamed the school until Willow spotted the back of the British man's head through a door. A white haired person was beside him, female.
"Ah! The annual play," Jesse observed. They all quickly reached the same conclusion, and entered the school hall.
Buffy got in the first comment. "If it isn't the great producer!"
"Had to see it to believe it," Xander continued.
Giles turned to see who had appeared. "Oh. You lot."
"Who's your co-producer?," Willow asked.
Xander paused to look at the person. Female, very shapely, long white hair, obsidian skin, purple eyes.
"Drow," he observed.
The drow pointed at Xander. "Human. Ooo, wow."
"Be nice, Chalithra," Giles reproached her. He turned to the four students. "She is staying with me for the time being."
Willow clapped a hand over Jesse's opening mouth -- he had that look in his eyes, and she just /knew/ he was going to try a bad pick up line. The hormonal boy shot her a hurt look.
"Anyway," Buffy continued. "The school talent show. How did you finagle such a primo assignment?"
"Our new Fuhrer," Giles acidly commented.
"I think they call 'em school principals now," Willow offered, not disagreeing with Giles' original term.
"Mm. He thought it would behoove me to have more contact with the students," Giles explained. "I did try to explain that my vocational choice of librarian was a deliberate attempt to minimize said contact, but, uh, he would have none of it."
"Giles, unto every generation is born one who must run the annual talentless show," Buffy said, a firm believer in 'what goes around comes around.' "You cannot escape your destiny."
"Nah! I think I'll take on your traditional role... and watch!," the Slayer laughed.
"And smirk," Jesse added.
"And laugh!," Xander said.
"Et tu, Xander?," Giles asked.
Willow had ignored the four in favour of talking to the drow.
"O-kay. I think maybe we better leave our Mr. Giles to this business he calls a show," Buffy said. "Coming, Willow?"
"I want to stay and chat to Chalithra," Willow said. "If that's okay with you guys."
"That's fine," Xander said, cutting off Willow. "It's of the good, to make new friends."
Buffy, Jesse and Xander got up and would have walked out of the hall to continue their free period, but found the aforementioned new principal barring their way.
The short man in his suit blazed bureaucracy, eternally in search of those who would deny the Order that had been laid down by those in the levels above.
"Principal Snyder!," Buffy said, surprised. The two boys looked panicky.
"So. We think school events are stupid, and we think authority figures are to be made fun of?," Snyder commented, his tone making it clear that the question was not to be answered.
"No! No, we don't," Buffy said, trying to dig her way out. "W-unless you do."
Yep. Keep diggin' that hole, Buff, Xander thought to himself.
"And we think our afternoon classes are optional," Principal Snyder continued. "All three of you left campus yesterday."
"Yeah, but we were fighting a demon!," Buffy said before she realised who she was talking to.
"Fighting?," Snyder asked, latching onto the term that reeked of antisocial behaviour, deviating from Order.
"Not fighting," Buffy backpedalled.
"No, uh, we left to /avoid/ fighting," Jesse tried. Xander was wise enough to realise that Snyder already had decided what he was going to do.
"Real anti-social types," the Principal decided. "You need to integrate into this school, people. I think I just found three eager new participants for the talent show."
For some reason, Xander had decided to wear a shortsleeved shirt that day. Snyder's eyes immediately fell onto the black metal snaking up his arms from the Runes etched on his fingertips, which were (thankfully) still gloved.
"What's this? /What's this?/ Tattoos?," Snyder asked, frowning. "I'm going to keep an eye on you troublemakers.
* * *
Later that day after school, the three sighed.
"Why couldn't we have a cool principal, like Mr Flutie?," Buffy asked.
"Because... no, I don't even want to /think/ about why," Jesse said, swallowing back a shudder.
"I've got a good 'why'," Xander said. "Why aren't you helping us, Willow?"
Willow smirked. "Because I was still talking to Chalithra and Giles, so Snyder thought I was being a good little student. Um, I can help with organising, but I'm not going on stage in any way whatsoever."
"Well, this is where we part ways," Xander said. "Me and Jesse are gonna go see Carl. See you girls tomorrow!"
"Want any backup?," Buffy asked.
"Ah, we're gonna borrow some CD's, not stake him," Xander said.
* * *
Jesse looked around. "I forgot his address. What is it again?"
Xander shrugged. "I dunno either. I just follow the music."
They were in the warehouse part of town -- for some reason, Carl rented one. Loud synthesizers cut through the air. The two youths followed the music back to a particular warehouse.
"Don't bother knocking," Xander said. "There's a better chance of someone hearing you in China than inside there."
They found the Malkavian vampire playing Grand Theft Auto: Vice City. Xander moved over to the stereo system, wordlessly turning down the volume on the vacuum tube preamps.
"What did you--oh, Xander! Hey man!," Carl said. "What can I do for you guys?"
"I'm just after those albums I mentioned the other day," Xander easily explained.
"The Blessed Hellride, Youthanasia, Mezzanine and Blue Oyster Cult Super Hits?," Carl asked as he flicked through a milk crate full of compact discs.
"Yeah," Xander said. "I'll get them back to you in a week."
"Coolness," Carl said, turning up the volume slightly.
"Could I borrow The Fragile?," Jesse asked. The vampire wordlessly handed him the double CD case.
Xander paused as he was about to leave. "Carl, are you dealing okay? You're a good friend, man."
The vampire shrugged. "Same old, same old. My hours haven't changed. All that has is my diet and a couple other things."
"Where do you get the blood?," Jesse asked morbidly.
"Because taking it from the source would be major bad mojo," Xander added.
Carl smiled. Away from the turntables and speaker stacks of the Bronze, his face looked... tired, was the only word to describe it. "Lasombra set up a medical company. He gives me a discount, since he owes me."
Jesse suddenly felt like leaving, badly.
"See you next week, then," Xander said.
"Don't be a stranger," the Malkavian vampire said as he turned the volume back up, the dark room illuminated by the glow of the valves.
* * *
Post-fic comments:
Valve amplifiers are cool. I want one!