Okay, I haven't finished either the Angel or the Blade stories, but I had this dream on the 6th of October this year, and although it took me most of the day I just had to get it typed up. I rewrote it to make it into a story, of course.
At the end of the Buffy seasons the story went that all the potential slayers became true slayers. This is just a short story about one of those girls, set maybe a few years after the Hellmouth Apocalypse in season 7.
No actual Buffy characters from the shows were used in this story, just Joss Whedon's slayer concept.
And yes, my dreams are weird, but I enjoy them. I hope you enjoy the stories that result from them.
888
She was just pulling on her long Mickey Mouse t-shirt when she heard the sound of motors, and felt the approach of hostile minds.
She was instantly on guard. No one was supposed to know that she was here, except her boyfriend and the secretary of his office. The riverbank was supposed to be unoccupied, so the large, expensive houseboat she was using was supposed to remain unnoticed.
She glanced down at herself and her immediate surroundings.
Wet towel on the floor. Hairbrush on the dresser; she hadn't even had a chance to use it yet. She was at least wearing underclothes, and the shirt was a big comfortable one that partially hid her thighs. She was still greatly unprepared.
There, the top drawer of the dresser. She saw some of her jewellery and makeup. She grabbed a few of the expensive pieces and stuffed them in her brown oilskin bag on the mink covered bed. She wasn't worried about her wealth, but about her short-term health if she suddenly had to rent herself a safe place to stay.
The jewellery wasn't at the top of her mind though. She reached up out of sight in the drawer. She retrieved a 9mm Browning. A heavy gun, but very effective, if the user is capable. She wasn't just a pretty face, so yes; she was capable.
One hand held up the gun, the other pulled the strap of the bag over her shoulder. When her bag was on she loosely tied her hair back with a scrunchie to keep it out of her eyes.
Multiple targets. She could feel them hovering around the edge of her consciousness. Though not a psychic, she was mildly telepathic when she chose to be. The motors had stopped; they were swimming the rest of the way to the houseboat. They thought to catch her unaware, and they would have if her subconscious hadn't amplified the sound of their approach to bring it to her attention. She had quite a few useful survival skills, but she hoped they didn't know that.
As she crept into the kitchen, her consciousness latched onto the determination in their minds – they weren't leaving without her. She either had to kill them all or die herself. She swore under her breath. Even though she was capable of it, she didn't like to kill humans.
"Sorry Antoine," she whispered, "but at least I know you can afford this." She was rummaging through the cupboards. She found a small candle, lit it and set on the counter. She opened the oven and turned on the gas. She ran for the hatch.
In the bathroom was a false cupboard. She unlatched it and kicked out the light panel that blocked the outside. She knew that Antoine's pager would now be going off, alerting him to the fact that the escape hatch had been used. She stuffed the gun in her bag and pulled the cupboard doors shut behind her, realising that all but one of her pursuers were now in the houseboat with her. A few feet up from the water, she dived in and tried not to make a splash.
The current wasn't too strong, and she knew that there was a residential area upriver. She held her breath and stayed under the surface, kicking herself away from the houseboat. She was strong, and swimming was one of her useful survival skills. She was suddenly thrown about in the current as the explosion tore a hole in the houseboat behind her. It was sinking, even as the wood still burned.
She stayed under and kept kicking for as long as she could before she took a gasping breath.
She had deliberately tried to keep the explosion small, so the whole house wasn't burning yet, nor had it sunk immediately. She could feel that there were survivors. She ducked her head under and kept going toward the bend in the river. Hopefully they wouldn't realise that she was still alive until she was long out of sight and out of reach. Then all she'd have to worry about was the condition of the water and the possibility of crocs, but how likely was it that she'd find hostile creatures in that river?
888
After having almost bashed into a submerged log in the severely less than clear water, and another tense moment when she thought a different log was a crocodile, she made it to the edges of a town. Not breaking her rhythm, she veered toward the bank. As she slowed down to pull herself from the water, her muscles finally got through to her to tell her that they were giving up. She had been swimming steadily for a couple of hours without having stretched beforehand, and for the last hour she'd been pushing herself onward with mental threats and promises.
She grabbed onto some protruding tree roots and clung to them, catching her breath and trying to steel herself for one more physical challenge. She could hear high-pitched yapping. It was early afternoon, and an older woman was out walking her Maltese terrier. She was wearing a long blue dress, pearl earrings and spectacles hung around her neck on a chain. Her hair was the same colour as the dog's; pure white, and unlike the dog's it was cut short to below her ears, but it was thick and it bobbed around her head as she walked. Her dog was at the riverside, looking down at something and barking.
The young woman in the water called out for help. The older woman gasped and hurried forward. The younger woman was tired and cramping, and the older woman wasn't as strong as she used to be, but together they got themselves up onto the bank.
"Who are you?" the older woman asked.
"Monique," the younger woman replied, sitting on the ground and ignoring the dog yapping at her ankles.
"Kenny, stop it," the woman snapped at her dog. "I'm Tina. Do you want me to take you to a hospital?"
"No," Monique said quickly. "Someone's after me. If you take me somewhere public they'll be able to find me. I just need some clothes and a place to rest. I can pay you, and then I'll go."
"All right," Tina said, "I won't call anyone. But… you're not in trouble with the police are you?"
"No," Monique said, shaking her head. "It's just that I don't think the police can protect me."
Tina gave her a searching look, and then glanced around as if the woman's mysterious pursuer was watching them.
"Come with me," she said. "My unit isn't too far."
Monique got to her feet and followed her. It was fairly quiet; they didn't meet anyone on the short walk back. Tina produced a key from her cloth bag.
"Are you sure the police can't help you?" Tina persisted, as she opened the door to her little flat.
"The police were the ones who suggested I take a 'private holiday' in hiding, and I was still found." Monique explained, trying to wring out her shirt before she stepped inside. "I'll let them know that I'm all right once this dies down."
She was aware that she smelled like the river, but before she could ask, Tina hustled her off to the bathroom and told her to take a shower. "I'll have some clothes and some soup ready for you when you're finished," she promised, and shut the door on her.
Monique looked in the mirror that doubled as a childproof cupboard. Her dark chocolate-coloured hair looked almost black from the water, and straggled to partway down her back. She'd lost the scrunchie somewhere during the swim. She had hazel eyes and long eyelashes. She had high cheekbones and lightly tanned skin. She had a small mouth and a small nose, and she was well aware that because she was also slender and medium height she appeared more delicate than she really was.
She put the bag down and checked that she hadn't lost the gun as well, but it was in there, along with the jewellery and her wallet and a mobile phone in a little case. She wouldn't be using it for a little while until she knew more about what was happening.
Her shirt was a little dirty and very wet. She turned on the water and stripped off.
888
As promised, chicken noodle soup and a bag of clothes were waiting for her when Monique ventured out in a fluffy yellow towel.
"They belonged to my granddaughter," Tina said, gesturing to the bag. "And I always meant to hand them in to Goodwill and never got around to it. They're all clean."
Monique found some loose pants and a shirt and pulled them on in the bathroom before sitting down on the couch with her soup. Tina put Monique's wet clothes into a washing machine and came back to sit in a chair near Monique.
"I always believed in minding my own business, so I won't ask too many questions," Tina said, "but is there anything you'd like to tell me?"
"I'm a model, well, I am when I can get the work." Monique explained. Tina nodded. "I have a rich boyfriend who owns a few companies, and one of them is a law firm. He let his business partner handle things on his own, and that got us into trouble. I found out that the business partner was making some unlawful deals, and unfortunately the people involved discovered that I knew. So I got sent away while Antoine - my boyfriend - is trying to legally sort things out. This morning someone found me on the houseboat. The houseboat ended up sunk and I ended up swimming up the river in the clothes I managed to throw on after my last shower."
Tina nodded again. "How long will you need to stay here?" she asked.
"Just the afternoon, if that's all right." Monique replied. "I need to sleep for a while before I figure out what I'm doing next."
"You could stay longer if you wanted," Tina offered.
Monique shook her head. "I don't want to get you in trouble. Somehow I got tracked down, hours from the city on a houseboat that was away from any houses and any other people. I didn't tell anyone where I was and they still found me. In case they can find me again, I won't stay here long. These people are smart, Tina."
"All right," Tina said reluctantly. "The guest bedroom is through there. I'll put your clothes in the dryer once they're clean so they should be ready this evening."
"Thank you, Tina." Monique said.
888
Antoine looked as young as thirty, but he was more than a century old, and was capable of surviving a lot of physical damage. Neither he nor Monique was truly mortal, although she was different to him. She was actually as young as she looked, but her mind was very mature for her age. She had seen and caused death – it was her job to keep the supernatural forces at bay.
Monique was a humanitarian, but Antoine only really cared about humans for her sake.
Monique had told the truth about being a model, but that was her daytime job. But she also was a hunter at night, of supernatural creatures. She was much stronger than she looked, and had a few strange powers, like her telepathy.
Another thing that Monique hadn't told Tina was that the business partner was dead. He was involved in dark dealings with some of his clients. Monique knew that Antoine was capable of having someone killed, but she wasn't sure that he had done it, or if the clients had been involved, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. She loved Antoine, but he just wasn't human, either physically or psychologically.
Antoine was apparently impervious to any kind of damage, so while Monique had been sent away to regroup before facing the clients and dealing with them, he had stayed to control the business side of things to make sure they didn't get out of hand while she was 'on retreat'.
Antoine did a few dark dealings too, but he usually stayed on the right side of the law, again for Monique's sake.
The plot she'd heard was against his freedom, someone planned to imprison him if he couldn't be hurt, and take over his business using the more easily influenced business partner. Having lived for a long time, and being a smart investor, Antoine had a lot of money. Monique had preventedone attempt to restrain Antoine and had become a target herself.