The Shield and Buffy the Vampire Slayer

in a crossover FanFiction

Antwon's Fangs

by LancerFourSeven

AKA Lancer47

& AKA STFarnham

See Chapter One for Disclaimer

Chapter Four

After leaving the gym, Vic drove to the station where Shane was assigned these days, and waited, idly rubbing his sore shin. It wasn't long before Shane walked out the door with his usual swagger and lack of observation of his surroundings. Vic carefully followed him to a meeting with Antwon's lieutenants and he swore to himself as he watched from his car. Dammit, he thought, Shane isn't smart enough to handle Antwon. This can only end badly. When Vic saw everyone pulling guns he quietly got out of the car with his gun drawn, ready to provide backup. But somehow Shane talked himself out of getting killed, yelling at Antwon on his way back to the car. Vic, still in the shadows, shook his head in irritation. Shane thought he was intimidating Antwon, but Vic could see that it would be only a matter of time before the drug dealer cracked the whip and Shane would be done for.

Later that night, Vic met Lemansky in a small park. "Hey Vic," said Lem, "what's so damned important!"

"It's Shane. That idiot has got himself tied up with that shit Antwon. Shane thinks he can run him, like we used to do with Rondell and Tio. But Antwon is a whole new ballgame; all four of us workin' together couldn't make it happen. Shane sure as shit ain't gonna handle Antwon singlehandedly."

"So what are we here for tonight?"

"We're gonna do a little recon, see if we can find some of Antwon's operations. Try to get ahead of the game so maybe we can pull Shane out of shit-creek when the time comes."

"To hell with that, Vic, I say we let Shane swing by his dick."

"Come on, we can't do that," Vic sighed heavily. "If he gets picked up by IAD, sooner or later he'd talk, probably sooner. He'd take us all down, maybe by accident, maybe on purpose, I don't know, but he doesn't have the balls to stand up to them."

"So what, you planning on killing him?" Lemansky looked ill.

"No, no! Of course not! We watch out for him! Step in and protect him! Watch his back! Shit! What the hell do think, Lem? Come on, dammit, let's see what we can find."

Antwon stalked into his warehouse and went into the back room. He looked at the rack with the chained prisoners and hid a shudder. He turned to his two vampires, both rather pale, and said, "Okay, I'm through fuckin' around. That girl, her name's Kennedy – she's jacked my money for the last time – you two go find her and suck her dry. Make sure she's completely dead and buried. And I don't want her comin' back as a vamp neither. Fuckin' kill her!"

"You got it boss."

Antwon went back out to his Barca-Lounger. Fucking vampires, he thought to himself, unreliable shits. Not quite as bad as that fucking insane demon that wouldn't kill or torture anyone for me, but nearly as uncontrollable. I'm gonna have to get me a backup plan going right the fuck now. Antwon knew that the only reason these two vamps followed his orders was partly because they worked for him before getting turned – it was mostly just habit – and partly they were truly frightened of Delia. But he was uncomfortably aware that the situation could change, even though he made certain they had plenty to eat – or drink, as the case may be. And, sister or not, Delia frightened the shit out of Antwon, too. The situation was unstable, and he damn well knew it couldn't last. He just hoped he didn't end up as a vampire himself, killed by his own sister – wouldn't that just suck hairy balls. He'd best stock up on holy water and wooden stakes.

That night Kennedy kissed Willow good night and went out the back door for her patrol. She worked hard to keep Will from seeing just how much she enjoyed stalking through the night, but if she was honest with herself, Willow probably knew.

Kenn stopped worrying about Willow the moment she smelled vamps and her inner predator came to the forefront. Two of them, just down the alley hiding behind the rickety fence. Were those vampires waiting for me to come out tonight? she wondered. If so, that was a big no-no. Kenn stopped to think. She looked around carefully, extending her senses as much as possible. She sniffed the air, opened her mouth wide and breathed in to taste the air on her tongue. She consciously let her eyes respond to the dark and spent a full five minutes observing her surroundings with every sense she could bring forth. Finally she decided there were only two vamps. Huh, she thought, did they even know what she was? Two vampires trying to ambush one Slayer was just insulting. I guess they're escalating after I turned the tables on those two assassins. Maybe they'll back off after I slay their vampires tonight.

She decided not to play around and play it safe. She took twenty long silent steps down the alley and vaulted over the fence in a quick but quiet motion, her slayer muscles making easy work of the eight foot high planked fence. She landed right behind the vampires and slipped her sword from her back sheath, took three fast steps, and swung the blade outwards in an arc from her right shoulder to her left, incredibly fast, right through the neck of number one; she reversed the blade direction, took another step, and cut through the other vamp's neck like a hot knife through soft butter. She watched two amorphous clouds of dust floating off in the wind.

"Huh," she said quietly into the night, "that was easy. Maybe too easy."

.

The next day, about mid-morning, Kennedy sneaked down alleys and over rooftops until she got to the neighborhood stash house. She deftly leaped over the visual range of a camera, took a couple of steps then sprung towards the roof, grasping onto the gutter but her legs continuing up until she was doing a handstand, then she let go with one hand, swiveled around, folded her legs and suddenly was standing up at the edge of the roof, without having made a sound. Then she slowly made her way to where she could watch for anyone entering or leaving the house and patiently waited. It was no more than ten minutes before one of the runners sauntered up and gave today's password into the phone at the door. She let him start to enter, then jumped down behind him, grabbing him around the waist with her left arm while her sword arm went around his other side, the sword waving in front of her new hostage. She forced him in, even though he struggled valiantly he didn't stand a chance against a slayer. Her appearance created pandemonium; two new guards were waiting, she slapped their hands with the flat of her katana and they dropped their guns, both grasping their wrists in pain. She let go of the hostage, then shoved him hard across the room into the other two, who were counting money and packing vials. She didn't wait to watch, she immediately added more punches to the disarmed guards, then secured them with plastic ties. Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, she picked up one of the guns on the floor, a 9mm Glock, and fired it offhand, hitting Jules' gun which he had just retrieved from his desk. He yelped as the gun was forced sideways and broke his trigger finger.

Kennedy stood up and said, "All right, got that out of your system now? Why do you always try something with me? I'm not robbing you, I'm not taking your drugs, I don't want to kill anyone, I just want twenty percent of the take, that's all. That's your price for doing business here. What's so hard to understand? Just have it ready for each week and things will go much simpler."

"It isn't your money, bitch, it's Antwon Mitchell's, and he really really pissed about this."

"Didn't you explain it to him? If he wants to do business here, he has to pay. If he won't pay, then he can't do business here. It's nothing more than a fee, a business expense."

"But, but, nobody tells Antwon Mitchell where he can and can't do business!"

"Wrong, I tell him. If this argument doesn't stop, I'll tell him personally."

Jules hands shook as he opened his safe and pulled out stacks of bills. Kenn walked over and split it roughly into quarters. She shoved a canvas bag at Jules and said, "Fill it!"

Jules couldn't stop shaking, but he filled the bag and handed it to her.

Kenn said, "Thank you, I'll see you next week."

She stalked out of the house, angrily muttering under her breath, "Buttheads thought they could scare me! What assholes! Well, by now they should know I don't scare easy. Maybe I should take care of a couple more – ow! What the fuck was that? Someone hit me in the head with a rock?"

She started to put her hand to her head, but her arm suddenly felt very heavy. Then she started to fall. She tried to hold her arms out to break her fall, but couldn't. She fell straight to the sidewalk, nose down. The bones in her nose and brow made sickening noises when she hit the pavement. Someone ran out of the house, grabbed both her bag and her sword, and scurried back inside.

Detectives Wagenbach and Wyms were on their way to interview suspects. They were discussing possible lunch locations, cruising down a quiet street when a very loud gunshot reverberated and echoed from somewhere close by. They looked around frantically, trying to find something to focus on, anything to to suggest where the shooter might be. They couldn't help but notice a large commotion up in an oak tree – leaves shaking and branches moving about – until a man with a rifle fell, windmilling all the way down, about half a short block in front of the car.

"What the hell?" Wyms exclaimed as she accelerated then slammed the car to a stop in front of the fallen man

Dutch said, "Well, is that good luck or what?" He opened the door and started to get out of the car when he noticed another man step out from behind a low fence and start to grab the rifle, still clutched by the man who fell. "POLICE! FREEZE!" he yelled as he drew his gun, "PUT DOWN THE GUN! PUT DOWN THE GUN!"

The man let go of the rifle but turned towards the cops. He had a handgun in his right hand and started to raise his arm. Dutch and Wyms shot simultaneously from opposite sides of the car, the gunman was hit but got off a couple of shots, but he only hit the grill of the police car. He fell to the ground, unconscious before he hit the earth.

"What was that?" asked Julien.

"That was a gunshot. A rifle, to be precise, followed by two or more handguns," Dannie answered as she swerved the patrol car around, hit the siren, bounced over a curb with sparks flying and accelerated up a wide sidewalk between two apartment buildings, coming to a sudden stop in front of a girl lying on the ground. "Look sharp Julien, the shooters could still be out there." She grabbed her mic and spoke rapidly and authoritatively into her radio, "One tango thirteen, shots fired, shots fired, one down. Request EMT and backup at Ocean Vista View Apartments on thirty-second and Tidwell."

"One Tango thirteen, one tango ten and eight are en route. Ambulance to follow soonest."

"10-4."

Dannie attempted a little first aid on the wounded girl, horrified to discover that it was her martial arts instructor.

Julien pulled his gun and looked around frantically – but he saw nothing to shoot. Another pair of cops arrived then and soon the whole neighborhood was swarming with police.

A day later Buffy and Faith flew into LAX and rented a car for the drive to Farmington. They didn't say much, both were worried about Willow – and Kennedy too, of course. They finally made it to the hospital and found Willow in a waiting room next to the ICU. Faith looked in an observation window, Kennedy was unconscious, hooked up to various machines which beeped contentedly to indicate she was still alive. Her head was heavily bandaged, her nose too, and she had two black eyes peeking out from around the bandages. She looks like a raccoon, Faith thought uncharitably, but kept the thought to herself for Willow's sake. Faith turned back to Willow and sat down next to her.

Willow stared at the wall which separated Kenn from her without seeing much. Her eyes were puffy and red. Buffy said quietly, "Willow?"

She looked up and smiled wanly, "Hey Buffy, Faith. I'm glad you're here."

Faith said, "Hey Red. Anything new since you called?"

"Oh, I guess. Yesterday the doctors were all supportive and super-sympathetic but I could tell they weren't hopeful. Today, they're all surprised that she has a chance. In fact, I overheard one doctor mumbling under his breath as he studied an x-ray—something about miracles and the impossible. I guess the old Slayer healing is working for Kennedy. I don't suppose we can tell the docs about that, though."

"And you, Will," asked Buffy, "how are you holding up?"

"You mean, am I going to go all Dark Willow on you?"

"No, no Will, I didn't think that!"

"Yes you did—you're being all 'Will' this and 'Will' that. But I do understand your concern; it is a legitimate question based on my past actions. To answer your question, unasked though it was, no, I'm not going to go black-Willow on you. I'll admit, it was a little close yesterday, but I stayed in control."

Faith and Buffy glanced at each in relief. Faith said, "So, any new information on the police front?"

"No, they haven't told me much. They have a suspect in custody though. I don't know who it is; to keep myself under control I have to to stay away and let them do their job." Willow looked up and asked, "Would you see what you can find out, Faith? I mean, since you're carrying a badge these days. Your badge is still good, right?"*

"Yeah, this damn Federal Agent thing was supposed to fade away weeks ago, but they keep giving me assignments. I think the Powers That Be are fuckin' with me and there ain't one fuckin' thing I can do about it."

"So does that mean you'll go talk to the cops?"

"Yeah, sure, I'll check it out."

"So why are you hanging around here?" said Willow, "Go investigate!"

"Don't get yer panties in a bunch, Red, I'm outta here."

Faith walked into the Barn and asked to see the Captain. She was escorted to Captain Rawlings' desk in the middle of the first floor. "Captain Rawlings? I'm DCIS Special Agent Faith Lehane, on loan to the Justice Department." She flashed credentials and handed her card over.

"What can I do for you, Agent Lehane?" The Captain took a close look at the card. It said that Special Agent Lehane was an Investigator for the SSID, Supervisory Special Investigation Department of The United States Department of Justice. Her badge said DCIS in large letters and Defense Criminal Investigative Service in small letters curved along the bottom. Captain Rawlings had no idea what any of this meant, other than Agent Lehane was some kind of busybody Fed with a badge and a gun.

"I'd like to see what you have on the Kennedy shooting. This is not an official inquiry, yet. But it could become one if you don't solve it soon."

"And why is the Justice Department interested in Ms. Kennedy, and do you know if that's her first name, last name or what her other name is?"

"Yes. As far as our interest goes, she was involved in a secret project. She's one of the good guys, but unofficially, if you know what I mean."

"I have not the foggiest idea of what you mean, Special Agent, why don't you spell it out for me?" She emphasized the 'Special' so that it was nearly an insult.

"Justice, specifically the United States Attorney General, wants to be kept up to date on her case for reasons that don't concern you. I'm the Investigator in the field. So tell me what's going on."

Rawlings frowned and said, "See how easy it is to be upfront? Even when you don't tell me anything?" Rawlings paused and then said, "The case is solved, we're getting ready to send it over to the DA's ofice. See Detectives Wagenbach and Wyms, they were the lead. Also talk to Detective Mackey, he didn't have much to do with this one, but he may have some insights that he hasn't shared with the rest of us, yet."

"Thanks."

George Jr. was hanging from his chains, still passed out, when a bucket of cold water was flung at him. He woke with a gasp, the water helped clear his eyes. He still had a pounding headache, but his head was a little clearer than yesterday. He looked up and a dark-skinned but nevertheless pale young woman put down her now-empty bucket. "You were scheduled to be killed today kid, but you got lucky. It seems my minions got themselves dusted so I have a temporary oversupply of food."

George shivered. He would have pissed his pants but the vampires had forgotten to give him any water to drink.

"No comments? No 'you can't get away with this' shit? Okay then..."

She got right in his face, and then her face changed; first her eyes glowed yellow, then her forehead grew ridges, and finally her fangs grew large. She said softly, "My name is Delia, and I'll be your waiter today." She laughed and added, "No, no, I won't be waiting on you – am I funny or what? – you're gonna be serving me."

She grabbed one of his restrained wrists and bit him, and sucked blood. After a minute, she jerked herself backwards. Then she went so far as to wrap a bandage around his wrist. George had never been so frightened in his life; he passed out again.

TBC

Footnotes:

* Faith acquired status as a DCIS Special Agent through Riley Finn's department. It was supposed to be temporary, but it hasn't worn off yet. This is not really a sequel to 'Buffy Returns to Washington', but it is the same universe.