FIC: Faith Wayne (20/?)
Xander grunted as the alarms erupted. His nerves already frazzled after his meeting with Bruce Wayne, hell him warning Batman, Xander wasted no time in rising, pulling on a pair of reinforced-knuckle fingerless gloves, reaching into his drawer, pulling out the tazer located there, while also hurriedly putting on his shoulder-holster.
He was two steps from his office door when it crashed open, a tall, blonde-haired beauty striding in, matching flintlocks in her hands. Xander didn't give her chance to aim, slamming shoulder-first into the woman's rather ample chest, knocking her out into the corridor.
Xander charged after his assailant, slamming his right into the woman's eye, years of battling alongside super-powered women robbing him of any fairer sex delusions. The woman stumbled, then righted herself, left flintlock coming up.
Only to be trapped against Xander's torso when he wrapped his right arm around the woman's forearm, locking her arm into his side as he drove his other fist into her throat, and his knee into her groin. The woman's legs began to buckle, her descent hastened by Xander's forehead to the face.
Xander shook his head as he caught the falling woman and flung her onto the couch in his room before quickly stripping her of her weapons and hog-tying her. "No one threatens my girls."
Michael Czajak, former goth and Sunnydale resident, and now full-time bad ass mage almost fell off his chair when his magical alarms went off. "It's always something around here," he muttered as he slammed shut the spell book he'd been studying, hurried around his desk, and out of the door.
He'd barely stepped into the corridor when he was confronted with a man who seemed to be wearing some sort of snake suit charging towards him. "Incendia!" Michael hissed, a half-second later a fireball was hovering in his hand. A half-second after that it was flying through the air at the on-charging snake-man.
Michael's eyes widened as the serpent-man leapt away from his attempted incineration and started running towards him across the left wall. Gathering himself, Michael let out a cry. "Vires!"
Energy shimmered in the air, then crashed into the snake-man, flinging him off the wall, and head over tails down the corridor. The creature rolled up into a crouch, an unholy fire burning in its eyes.
Michael flung out his hand again. "VIRES!"
A still greater energy rippled in the air between him and his would-be attacker, then crashed into the interloper's chest, spinning him like a top, and flinging him all the way down the corridor to crash into the far wall. But suddenly that wasn't enough. This creature thought he could break into his home and threaten him and his friends?
"VIRES!" This third burst of energy thudded into the barely moving intruder, lifted his crumpled body off the carpet and flung him back into the wall. "VIRES!" For a third time the limp body was propelled into the wall then thumping back to the ground.
Michael smiled as he slumped wearily against the wall, sweaty body aching as if he'd just spent an hour in the weights room he never used. Whoever his attacker was, he wouldn't be back up in a hurry.
"You carryin' pops?" Faith queried as they made the corridor.
"I have a few tricks on me," Bruce replied, grimacing as the chaotic noise filling the mansion reached them.
"Good to know-," Faith swayed to one side as a bearded archer stepped out of a doorway forty feet away, raised and shot an arrow at her in a solitary smooth motion, the barb shafted arrow missing her left eye by less than an inch. "SHIT!" Faith joined him in diving behind a table he'd hastily grabbed from the far side of the corridor and flipped onto one side. "Who the fuck is Robin Hood?"
"That looks like Meryln, a foe of the Green Arrow's," Bruce replied, recalling the bearded man from the Batcave's extensive criminal files.
"Meryln?" Faith's beautiful features furrowed. "Is he a magician?" Bruce shook his head. "Then why the hell is he called Merlyn?"
"Faith, I didn't name him!" Bruce hissed irritably. "And is this really the time?"
"Yeah," Faith shook her head. "'Kay, this is what we'll do. You lunge for the door to your right, screaming about how you don't wanna die or some such pussy shit, the moment the asshole sticks his head outta shoot you, I come up, and tomahawk his ass."
"No." Bruce shook his head. As much as he hated this, he had to point out of the flaw in Faith's plan. "When Merlyn made his first attempt, you were his target, that tells me you're his priority, if I act as decoy, he'll just ignore me, and wait until you come up, and put an arrow through you."
"FUCK!" Faith grunted as an arrow whistled overhead, chipping wood from the table's edge. "Yeah, could be right. Can you handle a tomahawk?" Bruce nodded, he'd trained extensively in all weapons. "In that case," Faith tossed him her tomahawks. "Ready?" he held the weapons in his hand for a moment, becoming one with them, then nodded.
"I can't take it!" Faith screamed as she lunged for a doorway to the right, hands reaching for the door. The moment Merlyn started to move, Wayne was lurching up, sighting, and flinging his tomahawk. Merlyn let out a shocked cry as the tomahawk sliced deep into his right arm, the archer falling back, his other arm reaching instinctively for his wound. He never got his hand there, Faith swarming all over him, hitting him with a blistering array of punches, kicks, knees, and elbows that the injured assassin had no response for.
The moment the beaten into unconsciousness archer crashed to the ground, his blood oozing out to stain the carpet, Bruce spoke. "Should we -."
"Go and see what the hell's happenin'?" Faith kicked the unconscious assassin in the ribs. "Let's get this asshole tied up first."
"Ahhh!" Freddy let out a shocked cry as the green-clad Asiatic assassin who'd just recently burst through the office caught him with a spin-kick to the jaw that sent him flying over his desk to crumple in a heap. He groaned as the door crashed open again, not more of them, then heaved a relieved sigh when Janice's lanky figure burst in.
The assassin spun to face the Slayer but wasn't quick enough to avoid a straight right to the jaw that knocked her into the wall. Freddy was far from a connoisseur on fighting, but even he could tell the two women were experts. And he could also tell the Slayer was just a little bit faster, stronger, and better than the raven-haired killer.
And he could also tell that unless the assassin got help, the fight could only end one way.
Just as he realised that, Janice sidestepped a knife-edge to the throat, stepped in close and drove her head down into the other woman's face. Blood spurted from the woman's nose as she spun away and attempted an up-swinging elbow at the Slayer's face. The Slayer took the elbow to the cheek, but grabbed the woman's arm at the crook, yanked her forward, and into a rib-shattering knee to the midsection.
Her expression pained, the assassin began to double up. Janice grabbed her around the neck, swaying in and out of the way of the foot that swung up from behind and above the assassin's bent back as she squeezed down hard. Suddenly the would-be killer went limp, and fell motionless to the ground.
Claudia and Bella out-flanked the snarling man clad in what looked to be a red dog's costume, his hands ending in what appeared to be claws. Claudia slid under a sweeping claw to crash a right into her rival's muscled side.
The interloper grunted, then tried to twist to face her only to be forced the other way by Bella's right to his back. And so they fought, one darting in from one side the moment the other's attack was finished, beating the man back, punch and kick by punch and kick.
Finally the weirdo crumpled, his face pulped by their attacks.
"He's out," Bella excitedly and unnecessarily reported.
"Let's use the curtain to restrain him then go and see if there's anyone else needs help," Claudia replied.
"Or needs their asses kicking!" Bella laughed.
Mandy grunted as the red and blue costumed muscle-man caught her with punch after punch, her own defences fading before its relentless attack. Blood flew from her mouth as her ribs shattered. Her eyes swam as she brought up her arms too slow to block a left hook that lifted her off her feet and flung her into the foot of the steps.
And then Erin flew past her shoulder, knocking the chemically enhanced giant back with a furious barrage of blows even as her fellow Slayer darted in and out of his counter-attacks.
But not all of them, an elbow to the side of her head knocked her into the wall. Erin ducked under the drug-built behemoth's right cross, the blow cracking the wall's plaster, and connected with an uppercut that knocked the thick-set man back a step before gliding into a smooth spin kick.
The man scooped up Mandy's fellow Slayer by her out-stretched leg and flung her back into the wall. Erin handsprung off the wall and back into the attack, jamming an elbow into her adversary's face. The man's head snapped back, but he managed to snatch out a hand, grab Erin by her flame-red hair and fling her face-first into the opposite wall.
Erin doubled up and kicked out when the musclehead jammed a fist into her kidneys before she could turn to face him. Her blow hit home, but then her rival's hands were around her neck and twisting.
The world slowed as the snap of Erin's neck rang out and the body of Mandy's friend slumped limply to the carpet. Suddenly rage replaced the weary pain swamping her, and she was up, leaping with a banshee shriek onto the massively-built man's thick back, her arm wrapping around his neck in a chokehold.
"HAAA!" She screamed as the man grabbed her arm, snapped forward at the waist, and flung her through the porch's already shattered glass pane. Her landing on the stone-paved floor drove the air from her lungs but she forced herself to roll on her knees. Her vision blurred, she was forced to desperately scrabble for a shard of glass to use as a weapon.
Then the man caught her with a kick to the face that shattered her jaw and knocked her on her back.
BOOM! BOOM!
Blood, bone, and brains exploded from the front of the assassin's face, showering her as the man slumped to the ground, body shaking in his death throes. "No one lays a hand on my girls and gets away with it. No one."
Erin dead. Wayne stared down bleakly at the red-haired Irish-American, so vibrant in life, now so listless in death. Brave Erin who'd stood up to his customed alter-ego for the sake of his daughter. It took all of his decades-learnt iron self-control not to fling back his head and roar his rage at an unjust world.
"Mr. Wayne," he glanced over his shoulder to see Xander gently making his way through the throng of sobbing teenage girls, an aura of barely contained fury surrounding him. "Sir, could you join me in my office?"
"Xander!"
One girl collapsed in the man's arms. "I know, I know." The one-eyed man gently stroked the girl's straw-blonde hair. "Michael," Xander looked towards a pale-faced goth following behind him. "Can you organise to put the-, the-, corpses into a side room and start up a triage room for the injured." Xander looked towards him again. "Shall we?"
"Faith says you know whose behind this mess?" Xander demanded.
"You should leave it to -."
"Just. Answer. The. Question," Xander slowly said, struggling with his tenuous grip on his temper.
Wayne stared at him for a second before nodding. "Very well."
He listened in silence as the billionaire explained. "You're saying this Raisin Gully-."
"Ra's al Ghul," Wayne corrected.
"What. Ever." Xander fixed the billionaire crime-fighter with his best glare. "You're saying he's targeted Faith because he figures Faith," his gaze softened as he glanced towards his love, "as your daughter is in the way of some nutty idea he has for you and his daughter to provide him with a male heir? A way of keeping his diabolical dynasty going, is that what you're telling me?"
"Ghul is a genius, but an utterly insane one," Wayne replied.
"It's that great deductive reasoning and stating of the neon-flashing obvious that got you the reputation of the world's greatest detective isn't it?" Xander snarked as he nodded. "Right, I want everything you have on this man and his League Of Assassins."
The playboy shook his head. "She's my daughter. Let me deal with this."
"How's that working out for you so far?" Xander demanded. Wayne's grate sent shivers down his spine, but he was determined not to show it. Instead he lurched to his feet, ignoring the ache in his side, placed his palms on the desk, and leaned over. "Maybe Faith's your daughter," he replied. "But she's my girl-friend and today this bastard put two of my Slayers in the ground. That makes it the International Slayers' Council's business!"
"Oh god, if my dad and my man whip 'em out and start comparing lengths, I'll just 'bout die of embarrassment."
Wayne's square jaw clenched and unclenched. Then the billionaire nodded curtly. "I've got your email address, I'll send you everything I have on the League Of Assassins." Wayne paused. "But I warn you, they're not to be trifled with."
Xander smiled grimly. "Neither was the Order Of Takara, the Scourge of Europe, Glory and a whole bunch of others. We're still there. They aren't."
Wayne nodded again. "As you wish." The billionaire turned on his heel and strode out.
Faith looked at him for a second. "Ah shit." His girl spun on his heel and hurried out after her father.
Faith raced after her father, mind whirring as she struggled to decide what to say. Finally her father was in the building's entrance hall. "Bruce," Faith licked her lips, "damn it, dad, stop."
Bruce spun to face her, her father's expression heated. "The League of Assassins aren't to be trifled with, Faith."
"We're not 'xactly chopped liver, yo."
Her father half-smiled at her defiance. "I didn't mean to infer you were," Bruce said. "But it's my responsibility to-."
"Look after me?" Faith shot her father a half-smile. "If I come off my bike pops, I don't need anyone to kiss my scrapes and put a boo-boo on." Faith's smile widened. "And if I did, X would probably fight you for the job."
"I don't think there's any probably about it." Bruce's half-smile widened. "He's got steel."
"Yeah," Faith nodded proudly, dimples deepening. "People mostly figure him for a goof, but there's way more goin' on beneath."
"I can see that," Wayne paused then continued. "He won't mention-."
"Xan gets the secret identity gig, he'll come up with bullshit reason, say Ghul has a beef with Wayne and is trying to get to you through me or some shit," Faith said.
"Okay," Wayne nodded, his expression growing grave. "If you need help with the funerals, red tape, expense of flying the kids' bodies home, counselling for the others, call me."
"We've got the resources," Faith swallowed, chest tightening at the thought of the two girls. "But you could come to our," Faith's throat tightened momentarily. "Our memorial service?"
Bruce nodded. "Just tell me when and where, and I'll be there."
Wayne strode out of the mansion, the gravel crunching underfoot, then stopped as he noted his car's shredded tires. "Damn," he supposed it was unlikely that Ghul would have had his car booby-trapped, after all his daughter rather than himself was the target, but it would be foolish to take chances. Taking off his jacket, he pulled out his cell, then placed his jacket on his Mercedes' gleaming hood, phoned Alfred's number, and waited.
As the phone rang, he considered the onerous decision he'd made. Ra's al Ghul was used to battling him, but probably didn't have a clue about the Council or at least as in-depth as his information on him, so an attack from them might catch the League unprepared. And as powerful as he was individually, the Slayers Council had contacts throughout the globe, something he couldn't equal without bringing others into this matter
And besides, the Council didn't shy away from lethal measures.
"Hello sir, how may I help you?"
His butler's voice pulled him away from that last unsettling thought. "Hello Alfred, there's been an incident, I need you to bring the Bentley and drive me home."
"Of course sir," the elderly Englishman replied. "If I may be so bold, I trust everything's in order?"
Bruce let out a rattling, tension-filled sigh. "Ras' al Ghul made another attempt on Faith's life."
"Oh no," Alfred gasped. "I trust she's alright?"
"Yes," Wayne took a moment then sighed. "But two of her 'students' were killed in the violence."
"Oh no," Alfred groaned. "I trust you'll be taking measures?"
Wayne turned back to the house and grimaced. "It's in hand."
"Thank you," Giles nodded gratefully at his secretary as she brought in his afternoon cup of tea, placed it on his desk, and backed out. Finally a bloody break, what a soddin' day he was having and no mistake. This flaming job made him nostalgic for the heady days of being tortured by Angelus.
He'd barely taken a sip when the phone rang. "Of course," he glared balefully at the ringing instrument, "it's like you flaming know isn't it?" Muttering curses under his breath, he grabbed the phone and answered. "Hello?"
"I want a Midnight Sanction against the League Of Assassins."
Giles blinked at the cold voice, barely recognising the usually far more cheerful tones of the closest he had to a son. "Xander? What's up?" Then the words hit him, a Midnight Sanction was so called because it involved utilising the Council's entire resources in attacking a target with methods best concealed in the dead of night.
And he was of course aware of who the League Of Assassins were. They were notorious, like the Order Of Takara on extremely advanced steroids. Centuries old, they were utterly ruthless and professional, but thankfully also largely immersed in the mundane rather than supernatural world.
Which raised the inevitable question, just what had they done to warrant the venom he heard bubbling in Xander's voice. "Xander, what's your connection to the League?"
"If you won't help me, I'll go to Angel, his group would be more than happy to get involved in this."
Giles' brow furrowed as he considered Xander's words. The likelihood of Angel and Xander teaming up was preposterous, as was the thought of Xander going to the ensoulled vampire for help, but it did hint at the possible motivation for Xander's demand. "Xander, I'm not saying no, son," he soothed. "But I need a reason to approve a Midnight Sanction."
There was a pause, long enough to make him think Xander had hung up. "Yeah, of course." Xander sighed. "Sorry." There was another pause. "It turns out the attack on Faith by Drakon was ordered by Ra's al Ghul. And today, a bunch of assassins attacked our Council house." The youth's voice caught. "Two of my girls were killed. This bastard killed two of my Slayers."
Giles' knuckles whitened as he squeezed the receiver in his hand, white hot rage scalding his veins. Two more names to add to the Remembrance Wall. "And what in particular leads you to believe Ra's al Ghul is behind these attacks?"
"Faith's dad contributes heavily to some charities that Ghul doesn't like. It's his way of getting back at him."
That sounded spectacularly psychotic, but not at all out of character from what he knew about Ghul and his megalomania. The madman couldn't brook any interference with his plans, although why he'd left it until now to attack Wayne was a puzzle. "Very well," Giles nodded. "I'll approve the Sanction."
"Thanks," Xander heaved a long, deep sigh. "I'll send you the information I've got the League and its assets."
"That's not necessary, son. We have extensive files on the League, they were always considered a potential rival by our predecessors." He didn't add and also as a potential contractor for dirty jobs, considered too dangerous for their own wet-works teams. "I'll get our seers onto scrying for where their major players will be and organise a response."
"I'll send you what we've got anyway," Xander replied. "We might have some information you don't."
Sensing Xander needed to contribute, to feel useful, he nodded. "As you wish, son." Giles replied. "Now," Giles forced his anger away. "About the girls, if you'll give me their names, I'll contact their parents-."
"They were my girls, my responsibility. I'll deal with it."
"As you wish," Giles nodded. "But at least send me the details of your memorial service, I'd like to make time to come."
"Of course," Xander replied. "Thanks. You'll keep Faith and I in the loop about the Sanction?"
"Of course son, now you go and comfort your girls."