FIC: Running into Death
TITLE: Running into Death
AUTHOR: Demona
SUMMARY: Adam Pierson is having a bad day.
SPOILER WARNING:
For Buffy: Set before season 4
For Highlander: Set before "Comes a Horsemen/Revelation 6:8" - basically before MacLeod realizes who exactly Methos truly is, but Methos clearly already knows all that.
RATING: FR13
"A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend." - I do not own any of the characters in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and/or Angel the Series, they belong to Fox, the WB/UPN, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. The characters of Highlander: the Series belong to Davis/Panzer Productions, Inc./Rysher Entertainment. The ideas and concepts in this story are mine entirely. Please do not copy or take this story without my permission. Joss Whedon is God…
FFA 640 Tara/Methos
I muttered to myself as I strode, rather angrily, through the airport terminal.
Twice, in a matter of twenty-four hours, I had been attacked. Both times I had been killed by two separate gangs of vampires.
Twice in twenty-four hours.
Sometimes it was best to play the innocent, naïve grad student role and just let them kill you. Yes, I tried that with the first attack. Death by draining is generally not pleasant. So I meekly fought back, lost my life in the process, and woke up under a pile of nasty trash bags in the alley.
They had stolen all my money out of my wallet as well as my credit cards. They had left me broke, though fortunately with a photo ID, and well…dead. All in all a pretty shitty situation.
I dodged a group of teenage girls. They looked up at me and giggled.
Giggled.
At one point I had been the monster parents told their children to fear, and now I was giggled at. It was a sure sign the world was ending.
Stupid Highlander. If he hadn’t been so bloody difficult to shop for I would have never been in this mess. But, of course, he had to mention a rare book that he wanted. Said book was neatly stowed in my carry-on pack, balanced over my right shoulder. The man had even pouted. Stuck out that lower lip, and whined.
I unfolded my flight itinerary and looked down to double check my departure time. I kept walking, not quite paying enough attention to my surroundings, and I collided with someone. Someone who eeped in a feminine fashion and I managed to drop my entire folder. I stumbled back a few steps, struggling to keep my balance. I heard another eep followed by a small thud.
Once I managed to stop moving I located the person I had violently crossed paths with. She was absolutely stunning in her simplicity. Beautiful with her long sandy-blonde hair, loose free-flowing clothes, and too wide, naïve eyes. Blue eyes that locked on mine and caused me to swear out loud. I had seen those very eyes not even twelve hours ago, as I shoved her out of the alley, and towards safety. She had been terrified, but refused to leave me - foolish girl. But she had fled when I pulled out my sword and let Adam Pierson’s mask melt into that of Death’s.
And now she sat rumpled, on the airport floor, surrounded by loose papers, and those eyes staring up at me. And they were afraid…afraid of me.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered and then a little louder. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I attempted to assure her. Not five minutes ago I had been contemplating resurrecting Death and now I wished he had never reared his ugly head.
“I - I know…its o-okay,” she managed to get out.
I offered her my hand as I slowly closed the distance between us. She stared at it for a moment, and just as I was about to pull it back, she reached out. I gently pulled her to her feet and let my hand slide away from hers as soon as she was stable. She brushed her hands down her skirt, getting rid of any dirt, and smoothing out the wrinkles. Tucking a strand of hair behind an ear she looked up at me.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Yes. You just s-startled me is all. And…w-well k-knocked me down,” she replied with a slight smile, and then blushed.
“Yes, I did, and I’m sorry.”
“Y-you died l-last night,” she whispered, cutting directly to the chase, and I felt my eyes widen just enough to confirm her comment. “What are y-you?”
“Last time I checked I was human,” I responded with a slight smirk.
“Of course…um…” she attempted to backtrack.
“But, I’m not exactly normal,” I confessed and she nodded, already knowing somehow that I wasn’t exactly what I seemed.
“Me neither,” she quietly offered with a small, timid, smile. We both stood there for a moment just looking awkwardly at one another, attempting to gather a feel for the other. She ducked her head, blushing again, letting her hair fall over her face, and started to clean up all the papers. She took the time to separate hers from mine. I bent down to help her and she handed over my stack. I picked up the final loose sheet and noticed it was a class schedule for UC Sunnydale.
Sunnydale. That town had a lot of weird shit that happened on a regular basis. And it suddenly clicked, with an almost audible snap, as everything fell into place.
“You’re a witch,” I muttered, finally understanding part of the vibe I was getting from her. She looked slightly alarmed but finally nodded.
“Yes, what are you?”
“A Watcher,” I said after a moment’s hesitation. I saw the disappointment flicker across her face but the lie was already out. She offered me another small smile, but it was apparent she was just merely accepting my lie like it was the truth.
“I’m…uh…Tara Maclay,” she introduced herself.
“Adam Pierson,” I immediately replied, no hesitation there.
“It’s been a pleasure r-running into you, Mr. Pierson. H-have a safe j-journey,” she stated and rose back to her full stature.
I followed her lead and replied in kind.
She was gone before I could come up with anything else to say to her. I looked down at the papers in my hand and realized I still had her class schedule.
It had been a long time since someone had caught my eye, especially someone as unique as Tara Maclay.
A quick look down at my itinerary showed my plane was due to depart in half an hour. If I hurried I would get there in time to get a decent seat when boarding.
Those blue eyes tinged with fear of Death haunted me for weeks.
AUTHOR: Demona
SUMMARY: Adam Pierson is having a bad day.
SPOILER WARNING:
For Buffy: Set before season 4
For Highlander: Set before "Comes a Horsemen/Revelation 6:8" - basically before MacLeod realizes who exactly Methos truly is, but Methos clearly already knows all that.
RATING: FR13
"A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend." - I do not own any of the characters in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and/or Angel the Series, they belong to Fox, the WB/UPN, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. The characters of Highlander: the Series belong to Davis/Panzer Productions, Inc./Rysher Entertainment. The ideas and concepts in this story are mine entirely. Please do not copy or take this story without my permission. Joss Whedon is God…
FFA 640 Tara/Methos
I muttered to myself as I strode, rather angrily, through the airport terminal.
Twice, in a matter of twenty-four hours, I had been attacked. Both times I had been killed by two separate gangs of vampires.
Twice in twenty-four hours.
Sometimes it was best to play the innocent, naïve grad student role and just let them kill you. Yes, I tried that with the first attack. Death by draining is generally not pleasant. So I meekly fought back, lost my life in the process, and woke up under a pile of nasty trash bags in the alley.
They had stolen all my money out of my wallet as well as my credit cards. They had left me broke, though fortunately with a photo ID, and well…dead. All in all a pretty shitty situation.
I dodged a group of teenage girls. They looked up at me and giggled.
Giggled.
At one point I had been the monster parents told their children to fear, and now I was giggled at. It was a sure sign the world was ending.
Stupid Highlander. If he hadn’t been so bloody difficult to shop for I would have never been in this mess. But, of course, he had to mention a rare book that he wanted. Said book was neatly stowed in my carry-on pack, balanced over my right shoulder. The man had even pouted. Stuck out that lower lip, and whined.
I unfolded my flight itinerary and looked down to double check my departure time. I kept walking, not quite paying enough attention to my surroundings, and I collided with someone. Someone who eeped in a feminine fashion and I managed to drop my entire folder. I stumbled back a few steps, struggling to keep my balance. I heard another eep followed by a small thud.
Once I managed to stop moving I located the person I had violently crossed paths with. She was absolutely stunning in her simplicity. Beautiful with her long sandy-blonde hair, loose free-flowing clothes, and too wide, naïve eyes. Blue eyes that locked on mine and caused me to swear out loud. I had seen those very eyes not even twelve hours ago, as I shoved her out of the alley, and towards safety. She had been terrified, but refused to leave me - foolish girl. But she had fled when I pulled out my sword and let Adam Pierson’s mask melt into that of Death’s.
And now she sat rumpled, on the airport floor, surrounded by loose papers, and those eyes staring up at me. And they were afraid…afraid of me.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered and then a little louder. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I attempted to assure her. Not five minutes ago I had been contemplating resurrecting Death and now I wished he had never reared his ugly head.
“I - I know…its o-okay,” she managed to get out.
I offered her my hand as I slowly closed the distance between us. She stared at it for a moment, and just as I was about to pull it back, she reached out. I gently pulled her to her feet and let my hand slide away from hers as soon as she was stable. She brushed her hands down her skirt, getting rid of any dirt, and smoothing out the wrinkles. Tucking a strand of hair behind an ear she looked up at me.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Yes. You just s-startled me is all. And…w-well k-knocked me down,” she replied with a slight smile, and then blushed.
“Yes, I did, and I’m sorry.”
“Y-you died l-last night,” she whispered, cutting directly to the chase, and I felt my eyes widen just enough to confirm her comment. “What are y-you?”
“Last time I checked I was human,” I responded with a slight smirk.
“Of course…um…” she attempted to backtrack.
“But, I’m not exactly normal,” I confessed and she nodded, already knowing somehow that I wasn’t exactly what I seemed.
“Me neither,” she quietly offered with a small, timid, smile. We both stood there for a moment just looking awkwardly at one another, attempting to gather a feel for the other. She ducked her head, blushing again, letting her hair fall over her face, and started to clean up all the papers. She took the time to separate hers from mine. I bent down to help her and she handed over my stack. I picked up the final loose sheet and noticed it was a class schedule for UC Sunnydale.
Sunnydale. That town had a lot of weird shit that happened on a regular basis. And it suddenly clicked, with an almost audible snap, as everything fell into place.
“You’re a witch,” I muttered, finally understanding part of the vibe I was getting from her. She looked slightly alarmed but finally nodded.
“Yes, what are you?”
“A Watcher,” I said after a moment’s hesitation. I saw the disappointment flicker across her face but the lie was already out. She offered me another small smile, but it was apparent she was just merely accepting my lie like it was the truth.
“I’m…uh…Tara Maclay,” she introduced herself.
“Adam Pierson,” I immediately replied, no hesitation there.
“It’s been a pleasure r-running into you, Mr. Pierson. H-have a safe j-journey,” she stated and rose back to her full stature.
I followed her lead and replied in kind.
She was gone before I could come up with anything else to say to her. I looked down at the papers in my hand and realized I still had her class schedule.
It had been a long time since someone had caught my eye, especially someone as unique as Tara Maclay.
A quick look down at my itinerary showed my plane was due to depart in half an hour. If I hurried I would get there in time to get a decent seat when boarding.
Those blue eyes tinged with fear of Death haunted me for weeks.