Chapter 3: But Counting Flowers on the Wall (doesn't bother me at all ) -
Tuesday September 15, 1998; E. Chestnut St., Sunnydale, late afternoon/early evening.
Distracted was not a good thing when messing around with power tools, Xander reminded himself. Down that road lay blood, missing thumbs, and all sorts of badness not even remotely connected to Hellmouthy stuff. It struck him as slightly weird in a way that he found the idea of non-Hellmouth badness kind of relaxing sometimes. Power tools, projects needing attention to detail so that carelessness wouldn't lead to mishaps, and possibilities of non-demon type injuries...
The types of problems that normal people dealt with all the time. There just had to be some sort of commentary there about how un-normal his life was that that was relaxing for him.
Downstairs he heard a slivery peal of laughter from Willow and grinned, carefully laying a one-and-one-quarter inch piece of plywood across the sawhorses. He couldn't hear Oz's voice in counterpoint to the occasional excited Willow comment, but that wasn't unusual. After a few moments, the sound of a drill cut off other noises drifting up from the first floor and he grinned to himself.
Things were really starting to come together here at the Shop, at least. He'd had to swear sacred oaths against his comic book collection in order to borrow the industrial drill-driver from S&C, but it was worth it for Oz to finally be able to start turning the accumulated pile of steel bars and scrap metal into a werewolf proof cage in the storage room. Odds and ends of furnishings, shelving, and appliances looted from the odd vamp lair and the salvage yard were slowly turning the small living area upstairs into a pretty nice little apartment. And, once he finished cutting and bolting the backstop into place over the second floor windows, they'd be able to finally move the arrow targets up here and out of the way of the throwing boards at the back of the dojo floor.
Carefully checking his measurements against the window frame one last time, he ran the circular saw across the plywood. Setting it down, he added the new cut piece to the stack next to the upper windows, eying it with satisfaction as it lined up perfectly with the others in the stack. Two more, and it'd be time to borrow the drill-driver from Oz, pull Faith out of sword practice to hold boards, and start setting these into place. Not bad for a couple of afternoon's work. Xander pulled another eight by four sheet from the "Do" stack and set it into place for cutting, his mind drifting in spite of himself to the earlier parts of the day.
Whatever bizarreness had come over the school's female population seemed to have been a temporary thing. Following lunch, all three girls had seemed to be more or less back to normal during the afternoon class he had with them. The few times he'd grabbed a chance to compare notes with Oz and Tamara had indicated the same according to them. Willow had been a little more agitated than usual, but no more than she normally got from a slight caffeine overdose. While slightly more quiet than normal, Cordelia had been back to snarking with him and gossiping with Aura and Tamara during fifth period Lit. Aura seemed to have lost whatever bouncy eagerness spirit had gotten into her earlier and reverted back to her regular reserved and sarcastic self by study hall.
No post lunch encounters with O'Toole or his tools. Xander wasn't sure if he considered that a good or bad thing. He was still surprised and a bit shook by the intensity of the rage that had swept through him on hearing that Jack and his buds had been leaning on Cordelia.
Finishing the last cut, Xander slid the cut piece onto the stack and unplugged the circular saw, carefully setting it out of the way. Stretching and working his shoulders to ease the kinks out of them, he gave the pile a satisfied look. After the increasingly surreality of his earlier day, a return to more-or-less normal followed by working with his hands was a soothing thing. He decided to keep a careful eye on Cordy and Willow the rest of the evening and snag Oz in the morning to talk over things with Giles. For 'just in case' purposes, keeping to the 'you never know' principle of going to school over a Hellmouth. But, if nothing else out of the ordinary showed in the girls, he figured he'd go ahead and write it off as 'normal weird' and go back to worrying about more mundane issues, like Jack.
'Definitely need to find or make a chance to get Faith off to one side and ask her about her O'Toole encounter,' Xander decided. 'And Cordelia, once I'm pretty sure she's back to okayness.' He put on a breath mask and picked up a can of black spray paint, deciding to paint over the masked off windows before drilling holes in the frames to set heavy duty screws through the wood into. Cordy would be showing up soon, and it'd be time to break off for training - he could show up straight from school tomorrow with Faith and set the plywood. Kill two birds with one rock: finish the archery range and discuss their growing Jack issues with her.
During a break between the sounds of drill-driver on concrete, he heard Cordelia's laughing voice drift up the stairs, punctuated by either comments or laughter from Faith. Time to call it quits on this for the day and head down.
Stepping back to run a critical eye over the coat of paint covering the windows, he gave a satisfied grunt and set the paint can down, stripping off the breath mask. Good. No gaps or thin spots that he could see. Snagging his sweat shirt off of the back of a chair, he pulled it on as he ambled down the staircase.
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Tuesday September 15, 1998; Los Angeles, late afternoon/early evening.
Buffy Summers blinked dazedly as the counter girl asked yet again if there'd be anything else with her order. Snapping herself back to what passed for 'the real world' lately, she dug into her pocket for some bills while shaking her head.
"Nope, that's it," she said, handing over a ten she couldn't really spare but needed to anyway. "Sorry, been kinda one of those days today," she said, managing a smile.
"Yeah, like that for everyone, I think," the girl agreed. She handed back the change and Buffy tucked it away, picking up her tray with her mochaccino and cheesy danish and clearing away from the counter for the next customer.
Sighing, she found a clear spot to stand while scanning the small bistro for a place to sit. Spying a clear table, she headed that way while trying to stifle a yawn.
The past two weeks had been a draining mixture of exhaustion and deadly dullness for her. Work at the diner had picked up considerably, which was good in the tips sense, but badness in the 'able to slow down and catch her breath sense'. At least there wasn't any vampire activity, or none that she'd stumbled across. Not nearly as many weird dreams involving Angel, strange slayer stuffage and mud faced girls, either. That Doyle demon had tried twice more to talk to her about his visions and her 'destiny', despite her earlier warning, only to become conspicuously absent after she'd punctuated her final 'No' with Mr. Pointy jabbed into the soft place under his chin and a few vivid descriptions of how she'd punctuate the next one.
All the while dangling him from one hand like a dishrag. She figured he'd gotten the hint.
On the upside, while Gunn had continued to drop into Helen's on occasion for coffee and a meal, sometimes with his sister, he hadn't pushed for her to join in on any more nest raiding outside of a few hints, quickly dropped. On the downside, two weeks hadn't brought any Pike visits, and Gunn hadn't mentioned him. Buffy steadfastly refused to ask. She figured Pike had gotten his head sorted and sorted Buffy and her vampire issues clean out of it.
As much as she hated to admit it, in her better moments she figured she probably couldn't really blame him. Like he said: these stories are just never well with the ending of.
Too bad. She'd really kind of started enjoying things for the first time since she'd moved back to LA, there for awhile. Ok, better Buffy moment over. The bastard. Serves him right for having issues with her issues. Men. There's a million Pikes in the sea, and a guy named after a fish had no right being picky. Not that she wasn't a catch. Damn straight. And damn the mixy metaphors.
Grinning slightly to herself, she finished off her danish and left the table to deposit her trash and tray, heading up to the now empty counter for a second mochaccino. Not like she had time for much fishing lately, but a modern, independent, enlightened woman didn't really need a guy to complete her, so there. Not even a guy with nice shoulders and head ducking and crinkly places around the eyes and - 'Stop that, Buffy,' she told herself.
Outside on the sidewalk, she paused a moment to sip on her coffee before heading out. If she was lucky, there'd be something interesting on TV to kill a couple of hours at before bed. Or at least something mind numbing.
"Hey there," the familiar voice brought her around before she'd quite headed off, turning back to the sound of it. Buffy fumbled with her coffee for a second, blinking.
"Hey yourself," Buffy called back, grinning.
Pike slowed as he got nearer, ambling up the last few yards with his hands in his pockets. Reminding herself firmly that she wasn't happy with him, Buffy put a sterner expression on than the impulsive, sappy grin and gave him a cool look.
Running his hand through his hair, Pike pointed back in the general direction he came from, saying, "I went by the diner, but they said you'd taken off already."
"Well, think of the Devil and look who pops up," Buffy remarked.
"Hey! I don't think I gave any reasons for Old Scratch comparisons," Pike objected. "Ok, maybe a little but- " he paused and a slow grin spread across his lips. "You were thinking about me?"
Oh crap. She forgot about the single trackedness of the male ego. Nodding, she said, "Yup. In a totally non-flattery sort of thinking way."
"Oh, totally," Pike said, still grinning. "What was I wearing? I mean, err, what were you thinking?"
"Oooh," Buffy shook her head, turning in the direction she'd been headed.
Pike fell into step next to her, hands in his pockets. "So, about this thinking thing."
"I've decided I'm not talking to you," Buffy stated. She didn't lengthen her stride though, to leave him in the dust. Because her feet hurt, that was it.
"Good choice," Pike allowed. "You never did really come out ahead on that talking thing."
"Ha! Says you," Buffy made a snorting sound. She cut her eyes to the side, flushing when she saw him visibly tamp a grin away, replacing it with a studiously bland look. "As I remember, Kimberly, Nicole, and I always came out ahead on our little drive by snipings at Hemery."
"Whatever helps you sleep," Pike said in an agreeable tone. Cutting his eyes toward her he added, "I'm suspecting you're mad at me."
"Moi?" Buffy shook her head. "So, did you get your head all sorty?"
"Sorted, mostly." Pike said, nodding. "Then I got swamped with overtime and had time for filing and dusting."
"So, what are you planning to do with all that clean, empty space now?"
"Ouch. That was harsh," he said. "Funny, but harsh."
Buffy grinned in spite of herself, chalking up two points on her mental scorecard. "So... how's Elena?"
"Doing good. Visiting her grand mama for a day or so," Pike replied. He cut his eyes over to her, "She keeps asking about you."
"Aww. That's sweet. I kind of missed her too," Buffy said. "In spite of that big growth she walks around with."
Pike threw up his hands, laughing. "All right, peace. I get the picture. I'm a lunk."
Grinning, Buffy added, "Well, if it helps any, I kinda missed the big growth, too."
"Yeah, well," Pike stuck his hands back in his pockets. "If it helps, I really did get hit with lots of overtime at work."
"You didn't call, you didn't write... "
"You don't have a phone," he pointed out.
"Details." Stopping, Buffy turned facing him. "I had time to do some sorting too."
"Ah." Pike stopped too, looking relaxed and a bit thoughtful. "Well, you'd probably hit me if I ask what you're gonna do with the cleared space, so- " he mock ducked away as Buffy raised her fist and shook it at him, "- what sorted out for you?"
"Well," Buffy lowered her fist. "I kinda figured after that that was kind of a out-of-the-blue way to drop something like that on someone. And it wrecked a real nice day."
"It was a shock," Pike allowed. "Have to say, I didn't react as well as I could have."
Buffy shook her head, "I'm not sure there is a good way to react to that." She sighed, "I forget that not everyone's as used to the Buffy-Angel angsty fest as my friends in Sunnydale were, and they didn't react so goodish either. Especially not when... " she trailed off.
"The romance wore off and the crazed vampire psycho part came in?"
Wincing, Buffy said, "Well, yeah. That."
"I can see how that'd take some adjustment," he said, seriously. Buffy nodded. Glancing away, Pike said, "Hence the moving to LA thing."
"Hence," Buffy agreed. She thought for a moment, then shook her head, "No, that was more for me. I really needed to get away and figure some things out and try to deal with everything. In a place that was, like, not thereish."
"Yeah. That's why I left San Diego," Pike said, nodding.
"Yeah... " Buffy trailed off. "So, what now?"
"Well, that's kind of what I came to look you up to ask," Pike said. "Now that we've sorted, want to back up and do a restart, with, like, everything out on the table this time?"
"Hmm. Think we can?" Buffy looked up at him
"We can see," Pike said. He held his arm out, "How about we go get some coffee or something and talk - really talk - for awhile?"
"Sounds like a start," Buffy put her arm through his and matched strides with him. "Only - no coffee. I've about hit my mochachino limit if I'm going to get any sleep tonight. Maybe a shake instead?"
"Works."
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Tuesday September 15, 1998; E. Chestnut St., Sunnydale, evening.
"Ok, your turn," Faith said. "You and Harris - Xan, you're the vamp." Xander nodded, quirking a half grin at his girlfriend as he carefully tossed her the long and short bokken. Faith crossed her arms, cocking her head as she leaned back to watch the two of them.
Catching the pair of wooden swords, katana length in her left hand, wakasashi length in the right, Cordelia moved back to the edge of the mat as Xander did the same barehanded. Faith studied both of them with a critical eye as Cordelia dropped into one of the modified stances she'd been shown, looking for flaws to correct. Xander did the same on the other side of the mat, looking deceptively awkward as he sized his opponent up.
'Should be interesting,' Faith thought. Cordelia was faster and the quicker study, but Harris displayed an interesting mix of combat technique once - and when - he managed to stop thinking about it and let his instincts do the fighting for him. 'Leftovers from that Halloween thing?' Faith wondered. 'Problem is, Xan can't seem to stop thinking often enough and he freezes up when he thinks about moves.'
Shooting the cheerleader a truly evil looking grin, Xander shifted his weight left, drawing Cordelia's eyes and the points of her sticks that way as he lunged in at an oblique angle from the opposite of his weight shift. Cordelia missed her block-and-deflect, barely evading Xander's grab-and-hold attempt as she sidestepped automatically, turning with him as he went past. Xander swept in with an overhand blow that was mostly a feint for the almost completely un-telegraphed snap kick he started.
Instead of dodging or downward blocking the kick, Cordelia skip-stepped into it with a downward stomp kick of her own to Xander's kicking leg, her sole coming down solidly on the lower part of his thigh-guard. She swept the overhand blow to the side with one stick as she leaned under it and drove her other stick in under his arm and into his ribs with a thump.
"Hold!" Faith called out, cupping her open right hand over her closed left fist repeatedly in the 'stop - break!' signal they'd adopted. Both fighters separated immediately, moving apart on the mats with Xander grimacing and rubbing his lower ribs. "Nice," Faith remarked.
"Well, I missed the first shot," Cordelia said, grudgingly. Xander smirked, and Cordy stuck her tongue out at him.
"Yup. And an older vamp woulda had you, maybe." Faith allowed. "Xan's killed newbies, though, so the circle and stay with could have worked on a younger vamp." Frowning, she asked, "Where'd you pick up that intercept kick from?"
Cordelia frowned. "Uh... wasn't I supposed to? I just saw the shot and went there... "
"No, no - it was just right," Faith reassured her. "It's just I hadn't moved to blocking an attack with an attack yet."
"Well, it just seemed to make sense," Cordelia said. Xander nodded agreement.
"Yup." Faith nodded. "Does. When it's for keeps, bring your full body weight down on the stamp kick and step up on the guy's knee as you come in under the attacking arm, and use your full weight to drive home the stick. You'll step off through the dust cloud. Just don't miss the blocking kick... "
"So I did do right, then," Cordelia said, grinning.
Xander reached over and gave her a reassuring shake of the nearer shoulder. "Yup. She's saying you done good." She faked poking him with her offhand stick again and he skipped back, quirking a half grin, "Dusted vamp - always of the good."
"Ok, coolness," Faith said, clapping her hands together for attention. She stifled a grin when the other four cut off their byplay and snapped their awareness back to her. "We're kind of a ways from like, black belts and shit, but you guys're coming along. Red, you could use a bit more aggressiveness, and Xan, you need to shut your mind down a bit and react more, but all in all, not bad."
"And I say, huh?" Xander blinked. "Shutting down the mind? Most people yell at me to start it up every once in awhile." Willow snickered, shaking her head, and Xander cut his eyes toward her, grinning.
"Yeah yeah. Smart ass," Faith laughed, rolling her eyes slightly. "Keep it revving in like, normal life. In combat, though, I keep noticing you do good when you're not thinking about what you're doing. When you just act and go with the flow, you're better than Cordy. When you think about moves, you freeze up."
"Hey! He is so not," Cordelia objected, sticking her tongue out at Xander.
"Am too," Xander said. "Ok, so, wise sensei," he skipped to one side away from Cordelia's poke at his ribs, "How exactly do you go about shutting your mind down when a vamp is barreling at you? I mean - aside from the whole 'blanking out in terror' thing."
"Huh." Faith thought about it for a minute. She blew her breath out finally, crossing her arms under her chest. "When I catch a clue, I'll fill you in." Hiding another grin at Xander's eye roll, she added, "Maybe we can ask G if he knows some techniques. Make him earn his paycheck here."
Xander nodded, and Willow interrupted her frowning session to interject, "I'm not real comfortable with the whole 'aggressive' thing."
"Yeah, well," Faith stuck her hands in her back pockets, scuffing at the mat with a toe. "Don't know what to tell you, Red. I know you're more comfortable hanging back with the holy water or a crossbow, but... always gonna be a chance that something will make it past us and crowd in on you." She grinned, "That happens, we'd kinda like you to stay alive until one of us can break loose to lend a hand, y'know?"
"Well, yeah," Willow gave an enthusiastic nod. "I'm kinda there too. Alive being, like, a good thing and all."
Faith nodded. "Cool. 'K, Giles and I were talking, and we figured we'd start mixing in weapons next week. Swords and shit." There were various sounds of enthusiasm from the others. "Meanwhile," she added, "Let's do a quick patrol, and then head to the Bronze?"
"Coolness," Oz remarked.
Xander and Cordelia broke off a short distance from the others and had a quiet conference that ended with Xander nodding and gently running his thumb over his girlfriend's lips while cupping her cheek. When they turned back, he had a slight concerned look, quickly masked by his usual grin.
'Wonder what that's about?' Faith thought. She looked an inquiry at Xander, but got back only a slight shrug in response.
"Think I'm going to call it a night after patrol," Cordelia said, shaking her head. "I'm still kind of wrung out." She blinked, her eyes going distant for a moment, then turned the thousand watt grin on Faith. "Unlike some people, I actually wake up before noon on school days."
"Hah." Faith nodded, "Works."
"I'm up for the Bronze after, but I'm going to cut out early too," Xander said, giving Cordelia's shoulder a squeeze. The others filed off to the restrooms and storeroom to change, leaving her studying Xander's back as he and Cordy headed back with his arm around her waist.
She definitely hadn't imagined Cordy's briefly unfocused expression or Xander's unmasked look of naked concern at her while she was talking. Nor Oz's quick, covert skeptical look at her.
Very strange.
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Tuesday September 8, 1998; Sewer and tunnel complexes under Sunydale, night.
Dacascos straightened from his study of Rhoden's computer display at the sound of the chamber's door swinging open. With a casual glance in the direction of the visitor, he made a negligent 'wait' gesture and turned back to the display, crossing his arms and continuing his study. Finally, he clapped Rhoden lightly on the shoulder, nodding.
"Keep working it it. I like the possibilities inherent in being able to tie into Sunnydale's traffic and security camera net," he stated.
Rhoden nodded. "Whoever set this up for City Hall put in decent security, but it shouldn't be unbreakable."
Dismissing the conversation with another nod, Dacascos turned to the door, greeting his lieutenant with a tight smile. "Ice."
"Visitors," Ice remarked.
"Ah. The ones we're expecting?" At Ice's nod, Dacascos' smile broadened slightly. "Send them in." Turning slightly toward the computers again, he said, "That reminds me: anything back yet on our other message?"
"Our contact down there passed it on," Rhoden stated, "He's expecting to hear back from his contact with a 'yes' or 'no' soon. Said he'll pass word back when he does."
"Excellent." Dacascos returned his attention back to the entrance as a small and disparate group of individuals filed in followed by Ice and Lohse. Studying them carefully, he let them wait until he'd finished his assessment.
Vampire, demon, vampire, demon.
The first was a tall, angular female vampire. Studded and pierced with multiple rings through the ears, eyebrows, lips, and nose, she looked like she'd probably glitter under a streetlight. A medium length magenta mohawk offset a light grey man's suit with a black dress shirt and matching magenta tie. Unusual, and a bit pretentious, but a rather striking effect. She ignored both the wait and Dacascos scrutiny with a clearly studied indifference.
The next stood together and slightly apart from the others as a pair. One was compact and powerfully built, looking as through he could probably give Bennedikt Lhose a reasonable tussle. His pinkish-purple skinned torso was scaled, and a bony crest extended from the back of his (its?) head, up and around the bone covered crown, until it met at the center of the forehead and down the bridge of the nose. He wore a simple pair of baggy black cargo pants and a leather vest. The vampire next to him was an almost studied contrast to his companion: a thin, nondescript, ratlike looking fellow in a seedy looking, ill fitting, pin striped suit. The vampire's eyes were constantly roving over everything and everyone in the room within visual range with a calculating look. Dacascos disliked him at first glance.
As tall as the second demon was powerful and squat, the last was a lanky individual with wrinkled, leathery chocolate skin, wearing a dark gray outfit of some tough looking fabric. He had a bald head with wispy, scraggly strands of white hair depending from the back of the skull and his chin and cheeks. He returned Dacascos' scrutiny with a look that was contemptuous and filled with undisguised hostility and arrogance.
"Gentlemen, lady," Dascascos nodded at the quartet, the 'lady' in question returning it with a smirk - the first expression she'd broken since entering. "So pleased that you're able to join us."
"You had a job offered, we're here," the female vamp said, shrugging.
"And the sooner you give us some specifics on the job," the leathery demon's voice was deep and unexpectedly melodious for the looks of the speaker, "The sooner we can get to it."
Ignoring both speakers, Dacascos eyed the seedy looking vampire intently, smiling slightly when the thin fellow shifted uneasily. "I was only expecting three, not four."
The thinner vamp jerked like he'd been scalded. "We're a set. Between us, we're a force to be reckoned with - greater than the sum of our whole." Bristling a bit, he added, "My partner provides the muscle, I provide the genius, making us a veritably undefeatable combination."
There was a snort from Lohse's direction. "Right," he drawled, causing the small vamp to bristle more and drawing a calm, amusement tinged stare from the muscular demon.
Dacascos shook his head, grinning. "All right," he said. "I have two problems." Four sets of eyes came back to him with expressions of interest as Lohse continued to study the seedy vampire with undisguised contempt. "One is a Slayer who's been proving to be unexpectedly innovative in finding ways to disrupt my above ground operations and trafficking." The mohawked vamp and the leathery demon's interest sharpened at the 'Slayer' mention.
"The other," Dacascos continued, "Is an unknown quantity that's been stalking my above ground dealers and informants and... disposing of them. The two problems may or may not be connected. I want both of them to become non impediments to my business, regardless of connections or lack there of."
The female vampire cocked her head, studying Dacascos back. "We were only informed of one contract."
Shrugging, Dacascos said, "Finalize both and the fee doubles, with a bonus. Finalize one or the other and get the normal rates." She nodded.
The purplish, scaled demon scrutinized Dacascos carefully, then turned and gave Lohse and Ice a long study as well before turning back. "Have to kind of wonder why a 'master vampire' needs us to take out a Slayer and a vamp hunter," he stated. "Not like you're short on muscle of your own." His companion smirked and a broad row of pointed teeth showed in the demon's grin, "No offense."
Nodding, Dacascos shrugged slightly. "You four are professionals at killing. Your job entails eliminating problems and taking risks." He smiled tightly, strolling casually along the row of contract killers. "We're professional businessmen. Our job entails moving merchandise and accumulating money and power, not killing."
His left hand blurred and a shocked look crossed the face of the ratty looking vampire, briefly. Dacascos stepped back away from the dust cloud, dispassionately examining the eight inch ironwood and steel push dagger projecting between the fingers of that hand for a moment before turning the expressionless look on the crested demon.
"No offense taken," he remarked. "And I do hope I didn't just give you a lobotomy."
The scaled, crested demon glanced down at the dust pile, and back up at Dacascos with equal dispassion. "It's going to cost me to find a new partner and manager," he stated.
"I'll compensate you for your loss," Dacascos said, dryly. "If you remaining three will follow Lohse, he'll fill you in with descriptions and all of the available intelligence we have on your targets. He'll also give you the run down on Sunnydale and its environs and the various information and other resources here."
Stepping to one side, Ice followed the remaining contractors out with his gaze until the door closed behind them and a smirking Lohse. He studied the dust pile for a long moment, then smiled, looking up, "I suspect that you just quartered the intelligence quotient of that duo," he remarked.
"If the Slayer gives him a death by stupidity, then we're only out an earnest fee," Dacascos said. "Anything come back to you yet on the black vans some of our people keep reporting?"
Ice shook his head. "Nothing of substance. I've put a couple of minions on it full time, but they're hampered a bit by having to keep clear of Faith and her associates."
"Right. It's probably something our esteemed Mayor has going, but it'd be nice to be certain," Dacascos said. "Speaking of His Honor, it's time for you to accompany me to deliver City Hall's unearned cut of our proceeds. We mustn't keep the nice fellow waiting."
"He gets so very cranky when that happens," Ice agreed.
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