The Draco and the Scoobies chapter 16
Title: The Draco and the Scoobies chapter 16: Round and round
Pairing: Buffy/Spike; Zamolxis/Bendis; Xander/Anya; Willow/Tara; and so on... ;)
Rating: Adult
Summary: Something insidious is brewing in the Universe. And that something is boredom. Gods, supernatural beings and mortals will find themselves forever changed by the consequences of one bored Being.
Here: Patrolling and other circular activities.
Spoilers/Warnings: BtVS:S5; Adult language; Sexual situations
Disclaimer: Not mine, really! So please don't sue. Joss, Fox, Mutant enemy and all the others are the ones!
Beta: dusty273
AN: I'm finally up to date with this story here as well. A new chapter is ready and I'll post it soon.
Buffy walked in the Magic Box alone. She’d found a note from Joyce telling her that she and Dawn were out and would meet her later. The Slayer had used her time alone in the house to take a long bath and to get ready for patrol. At least that’s what she kept telling herself while she was putting on make-up for what felt like the first time in months. Not that she hadn’t worn make-up, but for the first time in a while she actually took time to notice how it looked on her. Smoky eyeliner and blood red lips gave her a sultry look, especially if she was planning to catch the eye of a certain person of the dead persuasion. Her knee-high boots with spiked heels, black leather pants and form-fitting halter top were just the thing for fighting expats, or at least they had been once, while patrolling with Faith and playing at being a bad girl. Now she was patrolling with Spike and that excused many things.
She had expected to see everyone already gathered for the night’s meeting, especially due to her grooming time making her late, but the only ones present were the two gods and Spike. She took her time observing him, no longer relegating him to just an irritation on the periphery of her world. He was wearing his trademark duster, tight black jeans, black shirt that molded to his muscles and a dark blue button-down that she had never seen before. Her thoughts had wandered once or twice in the territory marked “dirty little secrets”, trying to envision him in other colors than black and red. He looked better in real life.
The gods were wearing black leather clothes complete with dusters and boots that looked even more menacing than Spike’s Docs did. Also somewhat unsurprisingly, Zamolxis was smoking cigars and was just presenting Spike with a box of Cubans of his own. While the men bonded, Bendis approached the Slayer, her movements exposing the fact that she was armed to the teeth with all sorts of knives. She laughed at Buffy’s automatic tensing of the muscles and motioned for them to step to a side, presumably so that the men wouldn’t hear.
“How are you, my dear? I see an improvement in your taste for dressing up.”
“It’s just something I threw on for patrol later on,” Buffy replied, somewhat wary of the possibility that tonight the two visitors might just attack them.
“Relax, Slayer, I mean you no harm, this is just an attire to aid us in tonight’s activities, but more on that later. First, let me ease your mind about the others. Joyce and Dawn are with Giles at his place researching some leads regarding her abilities and importance as the Key.”
“Couldn’t you have told them about it yourselves, or aren’t you like Simon in everything?” the younger woman asked with a smirk.
“We could have, yes, but the journey is half the prize. Dawn cannot just be told who and what she is, she must grow into it. That kind of gentle aid is much better suited for your mother and Watcher, wouldn’t you agree?” Bendis asked raising one of her eyebrows.
“And what is she supposed to do?”
“Many great things, just like you. Telling you more now would be no help to Dawn’s quest, as she needs you to support her as she develops. Sometimes we have found that people tend to lose focus of the intermediary steps when the end result is clearly defined. To that end, I shall let your mother explain the rest, as she is more than entitled to do.”
“Could you stop speaking in riddles? I thought you were done with the Sphinx routine.”
“You are right,” Bendis laughed, “no more Sphinx routine. However, that is all I can tell you about that now. Xander and Anya are busy with a new business venture. Once they have established what it is they want to do, exactly, I’m sure they will inform everyone about the details.”
“What business? How come nobody tells me anything anymore?” the Slayer all but whined, trying to remember if she had heard anything about it before.
“Fret not, it’s of no consequence for the moment. As for Tara and Willow, they are planning the establishment of a Coven in Sunnydale. It’s long overdue that the Hellmouth be protected by one.”
“And how come nobody told me? Aren’t you pissed that they stood you up?” Buffy tried to find out more about something she was unfamiliar with - being alone with the gods while everyone save Spike was busy elsewhere.
“Relax, Buffy. They’re each taking on the new responsibilities they’ll have to cope with in order to help you better. They haven’t abandoned you, nor would they. As for the four of us,” she said raising her voice and turning slightly towards the two males that were pretending not to eavesdrop, “we are going to patrol.”
“So that’s the reason for the Farscape gear. I thought you weren’t here to aid us underlings with the manual labor,” Spike said while stashing the cigars out of sight so that he could retrieve them later.
“Far-huh?” Buffy felt the need to inquire.
“Quite right, young man. A bit flashy, I’ll admit, but I found it fitting. It’s a Sci-Fi show, Slayer. Anyway, before we’re off to fight the forces of evil and all that, we have some gifts for you, as tokens of our appreciation.”
Zamolxis pointed to pair of bundles made of expensive-looking cloth on the counter. Taking the larger one, he peeled off the layers of material to reveal a shimmering chainmail that looked like silver, but not quite. The chainmail had some intricate designs around the edges as well as the depiction of a flying beast of some sort on the chest, right above the wearer’s heart in the same eerie metal.
“This is Truesilver, brought here from a different world, where such things truly do exist. It’s meant for you, Spike, to wear underneath your clothes so that you might have an added level of protection.”
“Silver… seriously?” Buffy asked cocking her eyebrow.
“Mithril, Slayer, not just mere silver. Didn’t your watcher teach you about gnomes and dwarves?” Spike said, his eyes focused on the mail.
If what they said about the magical metal was true, it would be like wearing a tank that weighs a feather. Reverently almost, he touched the garment and was amazed that it was even lighter than he had anticipated. Without a care in the world, he stripped off his duster, button-down and shirt and put on the chainmail directly on his naked torso. The mail fit him like a glove, the ringlets adjusting and flowing over the planes of his body like latex. Turning around he caught Buffy staring at him with lust clearly written on her face. Smirking he made a show of stretching every which way, enjoying the way her eyes followed his every move as if in a trance. When she finally pulled out of her reverie and blushed, he smirked and put his fingers in the belt loops, framing the bulge her presence always caused to appear in his jeans.
“Like what you see, Slayer?” Spike added with a smirk and a cocked eyebrow for good measure.
“I want one!” blushing even more, Buffy corrected herself. “A mail. Not as in female and male. Gah! I want a silver thingie too!” She said turning hopeful eyes towards Bendis that was unwrapping the second package to see what she got as well as to hide her blush from the smirking vampire.
“No, you do not get a mail, since that is for the protector. You are the executioner and to that end you deserve a weapon unlike any.”
She held up a fierce looking dagger, unadorned by jewels and yet with such exquisite carvings on the handle and blade that it dazzled. By the looks of it, the same material had been used as in the chainmail and most likely by the same craftsmen. Pressing on the handle in a specific way, a dark spike came out of the bottom, covered in equally intricate carvings.
“This dagger is made of Truesilver as well, except the spike that is made of a wood even sturdier than ebony. With this, there is no creature anywhere that is truly safe from you should you wish them ill. The runes engraved both on the chainmail and the dagger are there to enhance their native properties and aid the wearer.” Bendis presented the dagger to Buffy, who took it and immediately checked it for balance and ease of handling. Satisfied with her findings she stopped her fencing routine facing Spike, her arm outstretched with the tip of the blade feathering over the engraved animal on his chainmail. Their eyes locked and the world narrowed to each other’s pupils.
Clearing her throat, Bendis decided to intervene. “I would advise against testing the theory regarding the unmovable object and the unstoppable force with these gifts we have bestowed upon you. The results could go either way and I’m sure you are mature enough to wield these instruments.”
Zamolxis laughed good heartedly and patted Spike on the back. “Come, children, let us try out these instruments before you start testing others.” Winking at the now flustered Slayer, he passed them both and offered his hand to Bendis, leading her out of the Magic Box.
“Ready, Slayer?” Spike asked, putting on his shirt and duster.
“Always ready,” she replied only to add almost as an afterthought before going out the door: “Mister Protector.” Giggling, the Slayer bolted out of the store with a vampire hot on her trail screaming bloody murder and demanding she take it back.
~~~***~~~
It was their second run through this cemetery and there appeared to be no more movement. Having gotten such an early start on their patrol, the four had managed to make two complete rounds of all of Sunnydale’s cemeteries. Zamolxis had killed two vampires after announcing them their contract renewal date was overdue while Bendis had gotten three, not before condemning them to execution. Buffy had tested her new knife on eleven vamps, while Spike only got seven, more preoccupied with keeping an eye on the rest of the group.
The numbers could have been larger had not half of the undead population fled at Glory’s appearance into town a few weeks back. The other demons seemed to be sleeping for the night. Zamolxis had grown quiet over the previous quarter of an hour and Bendis was equally deep in thought. All of a sudden, Zamolxis took off on a dead run.
“We’re to follow, but not at a run. It’s time for larger prey to be put out to pasture.”
“Who?” Buffy asked, even though she could almost feel the answer to her question in her bones. There was no response coming, but she was sure Glory’s number had come up. By his grim look, Spike had probably sussed out the same thing. A single nod was all it took for the two to assure one another that they had each other’s back.
~~~***~~~
“So you are the Slayer’s lost pet. You will tell me where my Key is.”
“What the hell are you talking about, you crazy bitch? I don’t know anything about a key and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.” Riley spat, one of his teeth flying with the spittle.
“That’s where you’re wrong, you miserable toad!” Glory declared hautily and thrust her fingers inside the squirming human’s skull, drawing out everything she could. When she extracted her fingers, the body of the once proud soldier slumped to the side, the latest exertion proving too much for a body that had been battered and beaten by all manner of monsters ever since he’d been left in that alley by his ex and her slave vamp.
First he had been used as a punching bag by some neighboring demons for bringing the Slayer so close to their homes, and then he had been dumped unconscious in the city dump. Some rabid dogs had all but chewed their way through his leg by the time he finally escaped only to trip and fall in a gutter before managing to get his bearings. When he had woken up next, he had been losing too much blood to manage to walk on two feet, so he had dragged himself closer to the hospital. Seeing a car stop, he thanked God for sending someone to the rescue. The guy proved to be a young intern and offered to drive him to the hospital to take care of his wounds. He woke up severely beaten and chained to the ceiling with a woman slapping him awake, each slap shredding more of the skin on his cheeks and loosening his teeth inside their gums.
So when Glory finally sucked out Riley’s brain, she unwittingly killed the broken man. While she enjoyed his memories, an intruder disturbed her.
“What have you gone and done? You do realize that your fate is sealed as we speak by the cooling body at your feet, right?”
“Zamolxis, to what do I owe the displeasure? I told your lawyers that they shouldn’t interfere here.”
“That is exactly why I am here. Our fee would have to be multiplied by a thousand to hire us for this case. You failed to provide appropriate payment, as well as violated the terms of your parole, an entirely different case altogether. Coupled with this most recent act of aggression directed at the Slayer’s camp, I have been authorized to announce you that the services of our firm are no longer elligeable for you. I am truly sorry for any inconvenience this may cause, but the terms are final.”
“You can’t do that. I’m a god!” Glory retorted stung by his audacity.
“Oh, but we can and we have. As for your status, that is highly debatable.” Zamolxis winked and turned around to exit the room only to be slammed from behind by the irate woman.
“You’ll pay for this!” Glory shouted only to find herself being thrown back and through the wall, landing in the middle of her underlings’ meal. “My dress! You ruined my Gucci dress!”
“We are so very sorry, oh Magnificent One, for being in your path while you flew. Punish us for our wretchedness,” one of the sniveling little monsters said while bowing repeatedly.
A loud crash sounded from the street and a clamor could be heard coming up the stairs. “See who that is,” Glory ordered while setting her sights on the man who had had the audacity to strike her. “As for you, paper-pusher, you’re gonna be sorry for ever touching me.”
With those words, Glory walked over to the smirking representative of WRH and punched him in the gut. Zamolxis doubled over, only to respond with a head-butt in her midsection. Battle was truly joined as both threw vicious punches without bothering too much with blocking the other’s attacks. When Bendis crashed through the door of the now half-demolished penthouse apartment, the sight that greeted her nearly made her snort with laughter. Zamolxis and Glorificus stood ramrod straight in the middle of some rubble collapsed from the ceiling throwing punches in turn. Neither showed any reaction to being hit, but Glory was clearly dissatisfied with her inability to dislodge her opponent. It was like looking at two grizzly bears in a boxing match.
“I am here to tell you that your parole has been revoked, Glorificus, time to say goodbye to this world.” Bendis said while wiping off some of the minions’ blood from her hunting knife.
“You bitch!” Glory screamed and decided to take care of the new threat before attacking this unusually impervious lawyer again. Her assault, despite being almost frantic, was met with the same steely endurance as the male currently lighting up a cigarette and using an expensive vase as an ashtray. “That’s valuable, you pig,” Glory screamed at the clearly unrepentant Zamolxis before Bendis grabbed her by the hair and threw her in the air where she hit the ceiling before crashing to the floor.
“You messed up my hair, you pale bitch! Didn’t your mommy tell you not to play with those superior to you?” Glory fumed as she tried to grab Bendis by the hair herself.
That is when Buffy came into the room, only to be dumbstruck by the spectacle the three supernatural beings offered. Bendis and Zamolxis had apparently gotten bored with taking Glory on one by one, so they were throwing her like a rag doll from one to the other. However, her attention was grabbed by a mangled corpse lying discarded on the floor, wearing some familiar fatigues. She tentatively drew closer to the almost unrecognizable shape of the human and rolled him over on his side to reveal the face, still contorted in pain even in death, of Riley Finn.
Despite his failings, his cheating on her and the way they had parted ways, the sight of the wretched piece of flesh before her eyes told of a horror story she didn’t even want to envision after she’d walked past him on the street near the vamp-house. A cold calmness descended upon her as her hand closed his eyes for the last time. The Slayer straightened her back and threw herself at the now bloody and battered Glory while Spike, having dealt with the last of the minions, entered the room.
The viciousness of the attack surprised Glory, who had almost gotten used to the clockwork of hits thrown at her by the first two to breach her defenses. The new opponent, despite being weaker than the previous two, obviously threw everything she had in every punch and kick, concentrating on key points such as kidneys, stomach and the already broken bones of her forearms and right leg. She saw that the Slayer was almost in a frenzy of attack, but neither her broken jaw, nor her reeling mind could formulate any response. Her eyes still looked at the nonchalant couple that had all but beaten her to death in a matter of minutes.
Zamolxis had just finished the cigarette he had continued to smoke even while playing “pass the hellgod”. He drew closer to his companion and kissed her bloodied hand, not taking his eyes, however, off Glory’s beaten form. The bleached vampire started whispering something to the two, but Glory was too weak to focus on what was being said.
“Who offed Cardboard?” Spike asked Zamolxis while he lit a cigarette of his own and sheathed the short-sword he had used against the little brown fanatics downstairs.
“Glory.”
The one in question was slowly but surely being reduced to pulp by the Slayer that was venting all the heartache of the last few months and the fear for her sister and her own future and everything else she had to vent on the now defenseless murderer of Riley. Buffy was getting visibly tired, so in one smooth motion, she raised the dagger Bendis had given her. What happened, though, caught both her and Spike by surprise.
Glory morphed into a severely beaten young man and the now male broken jaw strived to work as he pleaded for his life and asked what had happened. Buffy stood stunned with the dagger ready to end his existence.
“Buffy, meet Ben, an intern at Sunnydale Hospital and host to Glorificus. He is an amateur magician and was picked for becoming Glory’s human prison because of his practices. He invokes expats to fix his problems, he is the one that led Glory to Riley and thus sealed his fate. No matter the method used to determine it, he is not an innocent,” Bendis spoke softly to the now teary-eyed Slayer.
“But he’s human. How… what…” Buffy tired to put her fears into words, but failed to find the appropriate ones.
“And your point is, Slayer? He has broken the rules, even human ones, by giving Riley over to his darker side to torture and execute knowing full well what his fate was to be. He has willingly offered his body to house Glorificus and he has summoned other expats to do his bidding as well as hers. And he has no legal representation,” Zamolxis added while competing with Spike at blowing smoke circles.
“It is your duty as the Chosen One to defend humanity against all supernatural threats, including humans using expat tactics and powers. Here is such a man. Killing him would actually release him from his torment of sharing his body with Glory and it would in no way turn you into any more of a killer than disposing of vampires on patrol every night,” Bendis tried to persuade the Slayer once again.
“Can’t we save him somehow? He’s still human. It’s just that I’m… I can’t.” Buffy got up from her position on top of Ben/Glory, her hand with the weapon hanging listlessly at her side.
Zamolxis leaned against the wall closest to Riley’s body and lit the third cigarette in a row. “So his humanity ensures a carte blanch? Would it help if I told you he’s an expat that just looks like a man and is eating children?” Any trace of hilarity left his face for the next sentences. “Well he isn’t. He is the vessel for an expat that sucks people’s brains out, that wants to use your sister to open a portal that would spew forth enough expats to end the world. There is no stopping Glory except death, you should know that. You should also know that unless you kill her, she will kill you and possibly the entire world as well. It’s that simple, really. In some universes, she has already succeeded.”
“What do you mean? Does she, well, kill me?”
“Absolutes are really very relative, my dear. All you need to know is that this man has volunteered for the job of containing Glory’s essence and she wants to destroy the world. Also she has been sentenced to death, so it’s your duty to kill both her and her vessel.” Bendis tried to convince her once more.
“Really, when Ben here made the deal he was ready to sell even his mother’s soul to become part god. He knows that once Glory dies, his life is forfeit even if you don’t do it. What, you think either of them has played nice with the other expats? That is why we do not represent her anymore. Even if you killed just her, he would be hunted down, tortured then transformed into zombie food. So killing him quickly - that would be a favor,” Zamolxis added, flicking the ash from his cigarette on the floor.
~~~***~~~
Giles got up from his chair and stretched his leg muscles. They had been researching for the better part of the evening now and the more they found out, the more they needed to know. When he had first researched the Key, he had not known all the books to cross-reference, but that had all changed over the past few days with Bendis and Zamolxis’ input. Now it seemed like almost every book they read held some piece of the puzzle that was Dawn. The girl had been avid to learn as much as possible and was going through books with what could only be described as pleasure. If only her sibling had shown the same inclination towards research.
There was one other member of the Slayer’s family that was on his mind, though. Joyce was in the kitchen preparing dinner for the three of them, after she had done her part in the research. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was also something different about the woman. It was as if she was flying while carrying a huge load. He decided to get to the bottom of things and made his way to the kitchen after he made sure Dawn was off in her own researching world and was oblivious to anything around her.
Walking into the kitchen, he was greeted with a sight that made his mouth water and hic cock twitch. Joyce was bent over, putting something in the stove and the way her dress molded to every curve was positively sinful. As he was a mere mortal, he couldn’t resist walking up behind her, placing his hands on her hips and grinding himself in the cleft of her ass. She was more than responsive, triggering what could only be described as a session of dry humping that made him curse not being alone with her. Through the fog of lust that had enveloped both of them, he finally acknowledged that she was trying to communicate and her movements had stopped.
“Bloody hell, woman, are you trying to kill me? Either shag me or slap me, but stop teasing, will you?” In all honesty, he did not expect the slap he received.
“Listen up, mister. I’ve had a very hard day and I still haven’t figured it all out in my head. What I do know is that either you work with me and my daughters, or you can go right now back to those stuck up former employers of yours. And just in case you’re wondering, just one of the options includes what we almost did just now,” Joyce stated in such a matter-of-fact tone that Giles briefly wondered about possible connections to Anya.
“What’s this about, then?”
“It’s about you deciding what’s best for Buffy. It ends now, both with her and with Dawn. I will not have you ruining her life, do I make myself clear?”
“When did I do that? I really don’t see where all of this is coming from,” Giles said, feeling his ire rising at the accusations that were thrown his way seemingly out of the blue.
“Fine, then. Since we’re both here and you seem willing to listen, let’s begin. Bendis and Zamolxis paid me a visit earlier.”
Pairing: Buffy/Spike; Zamolxis/Bendis; Xander/Anya; Willow/Tara; and so on... ;)
Rating: Adult
Summary: Something insidious is brewing in the Universe. And that something is boredom. Gods, supernatural beings and mortals will find themselves forever changed by the consequences of one bored Being.
Here: Patrolling and other circular activities.
Spoilers/Warnings: BtVS:S5; Adult language; Sexual situations
Disclaimer: Not mine, really! So please don't sue. Joss, Fox, Mutant enemy and all the others are the ones!
Beta: dusty273
AN: I'm finally up to date with this story here as well. A new chapter is ready and I'll post it soon.
Buffy walked in the Magic Box alone. She’d found a note from Joyce telling her that she and Dawn were out and would meet her later. The Slayer had used her time alone in the house to take a long bath and to get ready for patrol. At least that’s what she kept telling herself while she was putting on make-up for what felt like the first time in months. Not that she hadn’t worn make-up, but for the first time in a while she actually took time to notice how it looked on her. Smoky eyeliner and blood red lips gave her a sultry look, especially if she was planning to catch the eye of a certain person of the dead persuasion. Her knee-high boots with spiked heels, black leather pants and form-fitting halter top were just the thing for fighting expats, or at least they had been once, while patrolling with Faith and playing at being a bad girl. Now she was patrolling with Spike and that excused many things.
She had expected to see everyone already gathered for the night’s meeting, especially due to her grooming time making her late, but the only ones present were the two gods and Spike. She took her time observing him, no longer relegating him to just an irritation on the periphery of her world. He was wearing his trademark duster, tight black jeans, black shirt that molded to his muscles and a dark blue button-down that she had never seen before. Her thoughts had wandered once or twice in the territory marked “dirty little secrets”, trying to envision him in other colors than black and red. He looked better in real life.
The gods were wearing black leather clothes complete with dusters and boots that looked even more menacing than Spike’s Docs did. Also somewhat unsurprisingly, Zamolxis was smoking cigars and was just presenting Spike with a box of Cubans of his own. While the men bonded, Bendis approached the Slayer, her movements exposing the fact that she was armed to the teeth with all sorts of knives. She laughed at Buffy’s automatic tensing of the muscles and motioned for them to step to a side, presumably so that the men wouldn’t hear.
“How are you, my dear? I see an improvement in your taste for dressing up.”
“It’s just something I threw on for patrol later on,” Buffy replied, somewhat wary of the possibility that tonight the two visitors might just attack them.
“Relax, Slayer, I mean you no harm, this is just an attire to aid us in tonight’s activities, but more on that later. First, let me ease your mind about the others. Joyce and Dawn are with Giles at his place researching some leads regarding her abilities and importance as the Key.”
“Couldn’t you have told them about it yourselves, or aren’t you like Simon in everything?” the younger woman asked with a smirk.
“We could have, yes, but the journey is half the prize. Dawn cannot just be told who and what she is, she must grow into it. That kind of gentle aid is much better suited for your mother and Watcher, wouldn’t you agree?” Bendis asked raising one of her eyebrows.
“And what is she supposed to do?”
“Many great things, just like you. Telling you more now would be no help to Dawn’s quest, as she needs you to support her as she develops. Sometimes we have found that people tend to lose focus of the intermediary steps when the end result is clearly defined. To that end, I shall let your mother explain the rest, as she is more than entitled to do.”
“Could you stop speaking in riddles? I thought you were done with the Sphinx routine.”
“You are right,” Bendis laughed, “no more Sphinx routine. However, that is all I can tell you about that now. Xander and Anya are busy with a new business venture. Once they have established what it is they want to do, exactly, I’m sure they will inform everyone about the details.”
“What business? How come nobody tells me anything anymore?” the Slayer all but whined, trying to remember if she had heard anything about it before.
“Fret not, it’s of no consequence for the moment. As for Tara and Willow, they are planning the establishment of a Coven in Sunnydale. It’s long overdue that the Hellmouth be protected by one.”
“And how come nobody told me? Aren’t you pissed that they stood you up?” Buffy tried to find out more about something she was unfamiliar with - being alone with the gods while everyone save Spike was busy elsewhere.
“Relax, Buffy. They’re each taking on the new responsibilities they’ll have to cope with in order to help you better. They haven’t abandoned you, nor would they. As for the four of us,” she said raising her voice and turning slightly towards the two males that were pretending not to eavesdrop, “we are going to patrol.”
“So that’s the reason for the Farscape gear. I thought you weren’t here to aid us underlings with the manual labor,” Spike said while stashing the cigars out of sight so that he could retrieve them later.
“Far-huh?” Buffy felt the need to inquire.
“Quite right, young man. A bit flashy, I’ll admit, but I found it fitting. It’s a Sci-Fi show, Slayer. Anyway, before we’re off to fight the forces of evil and all that, we have some gifts for you, as tokens of our appreciation.”
Zamolxis pointed to pair of bundles made of expensive-looking cloth on the counter. Taking the larger one, he peeled off the layers of material to reveal a shimmering chainmail that looked like silver, but not quite. The chainmail had some intricate designs around the edges as well as the depiction of a flying beast of some sort on the chest, right above the wearer’s heart in the same eerie metal.
“This is Truesilver, brought here from a different world, where such things truly do exist. It’s meant for you, Spike, to wear underneath your clothes so that you might have an added level of protection.”
“Silver… seriously?” Buffy asked cocking her eyebrow.
“Mithril, Slayer, not just mere silver. Didn’t your watcher teach you about gnomes and dwarves?” Spike said, his eyes focused on the mail.
If what they said about the magical metal was true, it would be like wearing a tank that weighs a feather. Reverently almost, he touched the garment and was amazed that it was even lighter than he had anticipated. Without a care in the world, he stripped off his duster, button-down and shirt and put on the chainmail directly on his naked torso. The mail fit him like a glove, the ringlets adjusting and flowing over the planes of his body like latex. Turning around he caught Buffy staring at him with lust clearly written on her face. Smirking he made a show of stretching every which way, enjoying the way her eyes followed his every move as if in a trance. When she finally pulled out of her reverie and blushed, he smirked and put his fingers in the belt loops, framing the bulge her presence always caused to appear in his jeans.
“Like what you see, Slayer?” Spike added with a smirk and a cocked eyebrow for good measure.
“I want one!” blushing even more, Buffy corrected herself. “A mail. Not as in female and male. Gah! I want a silver thingie too!” She said turning hopeful eyes towards Bendis that was unwrapping the second package to see what she got as well as to hide her blush from the smirking vampire.
“No, you do not get a mail, since that is for the protector. You are the executioner and to that end you deserve a weapon unlike any.”
She held up a fierce looking dagger, unadorned by jewels and yet with such exquisite carvings on the handle and blade that it dazzled. By the looks of it, the same material had been used as in the chainmail and most likely by the same craftsmen. Pressing on the handle in a specific way, a dark spike came out of the bottom, covered in equally intricate carvings.
“This dagger is made of Truesilver as well, except the spike that is made of a wood even sturdier than ebony. With this, there is no creature anywhere that is truly safe from you should you wish them ill. The runes engraved both on the chainmail and the dagger are there to enhance their native properties and aid the wearer.” Bendis presented the dagger to Buffy, who took it and immediately checked it for balance and ease of handling. Satisfied with her findings she stopped her fencing routine facing Spike, her arm outstretched with the tip of the blade feathering over the engraved animal on his chainmail. Their eyes locked and the world narrowed to each other’s pupils.
Clearing her throat, Bendis decided to intervene. “I would advise against testing the theory regarding the unmovable object and the unstoppable force with these gifts we have bestowed upon you. The results could go either way and I’m sure you are mature enough to wield these instruments.”
Zamolxis laughed good heartedly and patted Spike on the back. “Come, children, let us try out these instruments before you start testing others.” Winking at the now flustered Slayer, he passed them both and offered his hand to Bendis, leading her out of the Magic Box.
“Ready, Slayer?” Spike asked, putting on his shirt and duster.
“Always ready,” she replied only to add almost as an afterthought before going out the door: “Mister Protector.” Giggling, the Slayer bolted out of the store with a vampire hot on her trail screaming bloody murder and demanding she take it back.
~~~***~~~
It was their second run through this cemetery and there appeared to be no more movement. Having gotten such an early start on their patrol, the four had managed to make two complete rounds of all of Sunnydale’s cemeteries. Zamolxis had killed two vampires after announcing them their contract renewal date was overdue while Bendis had gotten three, not before condemning them to execution. Buffy had tested her new knife on eleven vamps, while Spike only got seven, more preoccupied with keeping an eye on the rest of the group.
The numbers could have been larger had not half of the undead population fled at Glory’s appearance into town a few weeks back. The other demons seemed to be sleeping for the night. Zamolxis had grown quiet over the previous quarter of an hour and Bendis was equally deep in thought. All of a sudden, Zamolxis took off on a dead run.
“We’re to follow, but not at a run. It’s time for larger prey to be put out to pasture.”
“Who?” Buffy asked, even though she could almost feel the answer to her question in her bones. There was no response coming, but she was sure Glory’s number had come up. By his grim look, Spike had probably sussed out the same thing. A single nod was all it took for the two to assure one another that they had each other’s back.
~~~***~~~
“So you are the Slayer’s lost pet. You will tell me where my Key is.”
“What the hell are you talking about, you crazy bitch? I don’t know anything about a key and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.” Riley spat, one of his teeth flying with the spittle.
“That’s where you’re wrong, you miserable toad!” Glory declared hautily and thrust her fingers inside the squirming human’s skull, drawing out everything she could. When she extracted her fingers, the body of the once proud soldier slumped to the side, the latest exertion proving too much for a body that had been battered and beaten by all manner of monsters ever since he’d been left in that alley by his ex and her slave vamp.
First he had been used as a punching bag by some neighboring demons for bringing the Slayer so close to their homes, and then he had been dumped unconscious in the city dump. Some rabid dogs had all but chewed their way through his leg by the time he finally escaped only to trip and fall in a gutter before managing to get his bearings. When he had woken up next, he had been losing too much blood to manage to walk on two feet, so he had dragged himself closer to the hospital. Seeing a car stop, he thanked God for sending someone to the rescue. The guy proved to be a young intern and offered to drive him to the hospital to take care of his wounds. He woke up severely beaten and chained to the ceiling with a woman slapping him awake, each slap shredding more of the skin on his cheeks and loosening his teeth inside their gums.
So when Glory finally sucked out Riley’s brain, she unwittingly killed the broken man. While she enjoyed his memories, an intruder disturbed her.
“What have you gone and done? You do realize that your fate is sealed as we speak by the cooling body at your feet, right?”
“Zamolxis, to what do I owe the displeasure? I told your lawyers that they shouldn’t interfere here.”
“That is exactly why I am here. Our fee would have to be multiplied by a thousand to hire us for this case. You failed to provide appropriate payment, as well as violated the terms of your parole, an entirely different case altogether. Coupled with this most recent act of aggression directed at the Slayer’s camp, I have been authorized to announce you that the services of our firm are no longer elligeable for you. I am truly sorry for any inconvenience this may cause, but the terms are final.”
“You can’t do that. I’m a god!” Glory retorted stung by his audacity.
“Oh, but we can and we have. As for your status, that is highly debatable.” Zamolxis winked and turned around to exit the room only to be slammed from behind by the irate woman.
“You’ll pay for this!” Glory shouted only to find herself being thrown back and through the wall, landing in the middle of her underlings’ meal. “My dress! You ruined my Gucci dress!”
“We are so very sorry, oh Magnificent One, for being in your path while you flew. Punish us for our wretchedness,” one of the sniveling little monsters said while bowing repeatedly.
A loud crash sounded from the street and a clamor could be heard coming up the stairs. “See who that is,” Glory ordered while setting her sights on the man who had had the audacity to strike her. “As for you, paper-pusher, you’re gonna be sorry for ever touching me.”
With those words, Glory walked over to the smirking representative of WRH and punched him in the gut. Zamolxis doubled over, only to respond with a head-butt in her midsection. Battle was truly joined as both threw vicious punches without bothering too much with blocking the other’s attacks. When Bendis crashed through the door of the now half-demolished penthouse apartment, the sight that greeted her nearly made her snort with laughter. Zamolxis and Glorificus stood ramrod straight in the middle of some rubble collapsed from the ceiling throwing punches in turn. Neither showed any reaction to being hit, but Glory was clearly dissatisfied with her inability to dislodge her opponent. It was like looking at two grizzly bears in a boxing match.
“I am here to tell you that your parole has been revoked, Glorificus, time to say goodbye to this world.” Bendis said while wiping off some of the minions’ blood from her hunting knife.
“You bitch!” Glory screamed and decided to take care of the new threat before attacking this unusually impervious lawyer again. Her assault, despite being almost frantic, was met with the same steely endurance as the male currently lighting up a cigarette and using an expensive vase as an ashtray. “That’s valuable, you pig,” Glory screamed at the clearly unrepentant Zamolxis before Bendis grabbed her by the hair and threw her in the air where she hit the ceiling before crashing to the floor.
“You messed up my hair, you pale bitch! Didn’t your mommy tell you not to play with those superior to you?” Glory fumed as she tried to grab Bendis by the hair herself.
That is when Buffy came into the room, only to be dumbstruck by the spectacle the three supernatural beings offered. Bendis and Zamolxis had apparently gotten bored with taking Glory on one by one, so they were throwing her like a rag doll from one to the other. However, her attention was grabbed by a mangled corpse lying discarded on the floor, wearing some familiar fatigues. She tentatively drew closer to the almost unrecognizable shape of the human and rolled him over on his side to reveal the face, still contorted in pain even in death, of Riley Finn.
Despite his failings, his cheating on her and the way they had parted ways, the sight of the wretched piece of flesh before her eyes told of a horror story she didn’t even want to envision after she’d walked past him on the street near the vamp-house. A cold calmness descended upon her as her hand closed his eyes for the last time. The Slayer straightened her back and threw herself at the now bloody and battered Glory while Spike, having dealt with the last of the minions, entered the room.
The viciousness of the attack surprised Glory, who had almost gotten used to the clockwork of hits thrown at her by the first two to breach her defenses. The new opponent, despite being weaker than the previous two, obviously threw everything she had in every punch and kick, concentrating on key points such as kidneys, stomach and the already broken bones of her forearms and right leg. She saw that the Slayer was almost in a frenzy of attack, but neither her broken jaw, nor her reeling mind could formulate any response. Her eyes still looked at the nonchalant couple that had all but beaten her to death in a matter of minutes.
Zamolxis had just finished the cigarette he had continued to smoke even while playing “pass the hellgod”. He drew closer to his companion and kissed her bloodied hand, not taking his eyes, however, off Glory’s beaten form. The bleached vampire started whispering something to the two, but Glory was too weak to focus on what was being said.
“Who offed Cardboard?” Spike asked Zamolxis while he lit a cigarette of his own and sheathed the short-sword he had used against the little brown fanatics downstairs.
“Glory.”
The one in question was slowly but surely being reduced to pulp by the Slayer that was venting all the heartache of the last few months and the fear for her sister and her own future and everything else she had to vent on the now defenseless murderer of Riley. Buffy was getting visibly tired, so in one smooth motion, she raised the dagger Bendis had given her. What happened, though, caught both her and Spike by surprise.
Glory morphed into a severely beaten young man and the now male broken jaw strived to work as he pleaded for his life and asked what had happened. Buffy stood stunned with the dagger ready to end his existence.
“Buffy, meet Ben, an intern at Sunnydale Hospital and host to Glorificus. He is an amateur magician and was picked for becoming Glory’s human prison because of his practices. He invokes expats to fix his problems, he is the one that led Glory to Riley and thus sealed his fate. No matter the method used to determine it, he is not an innocent,” Bendis spoke softly to the now teary-eyed Slayer.
“But he’s human. How… what…” Buffy tired to put her fears into words, but failed to find the appropriate ones.
“And your point is, Slayer? He has broken the rules, even human ones, by giving Riley over to his darker side to torture and execute knowing full well what his fate was to be. He has willingly offered his body to house Glorificus and he has summoned other expats to do his bidding as well as hers. And he has no legal representation,” Zamolxis added while competing with Spike at blowing smoke circles.
“It is your duty as the Chosen One to defend humanity against all supernatural threats, including humans using expat tactics and powers. Here is such a man. Killing him would actually release him from his torment of sharing his body with Glory and it would in no way turn you into any more of a killer than disposing of vampires on patrol every night,” Bendis tried to persuade the Slayer once again.
“Can’t we save him somehow? He’s still human. It’s just that I’m… I can’t.” Buffy got up from her position on top of Ben/Glory, her hand with the weapon hanging listlessly at her side.
Zamolxis leaned against the wall closest to Riley’s body and lit the third cigarette in a row. “So his humanity ensures a carte blanch? Would it help if I told you he’s an expat that just looks like a man and is eating children?” Any trace of hilarity left his face for the next sentences. “Well he isn’t. He is the vessel for an expat that sucks people’s brains out, that wants to use your sister to open a portal that would spew forth enough expats to end the world. There is no stopping Glory except death, you should know that. You should also know that unless you kill her, she will kill you and possibly the entire world as well. It’s that simple, really. In some universes, she has already succeeded.”
“What do you mean? Does she, well, kill me?”
“Absolutes are really very relative, my dear. All you need to know is that this man has volunteered for the job of containing Glory’s essence and she wants to destroy the world. Also she has been sentenced to death, so it’s your duty to kill both her and her vessel.” Bendis tried to convince her once more.
“Really, when Ben here made the deal he was ready to sell even his mother’s soul to become part god. He knows that once Glory dies, his life is forfeit even if you don’t do it. What, you think either of them has played nice with the other expats? That is why we do not represent her anymore. Even if you killed just her, he would be hunted down, tortured then transformed into zombie food. So killing him quickly - that would be a favor,” Zamolxis added, flicking the ash from his cigarette on the floor.
~~~***~~~
Giles got up from his chair and stretched his leg muscles. They had been researching for the better part of the evening now and the more they found out, the more they needed to know. When he had first researched the Key, he had not known all the books to cross-reference, but that had all changed over the past few days with Bendis and Zamolxis’ input. Now it seemed like almost every book they read held some piece of the puzzle that was Dawn. The girl had been avid to learn as much as possible and was going through books with what could only be described as pleasure. If only her sibling had shown the same inclination towards research.
There was one other member of the Slayer’s family that was on his mind, though. Joyce was in the kitchen preparing dinner for the three of them, after she had done her part in the research. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was also something different about the woman. It was as if she was flying while carrying a huge load. He decided to get to the bottom of things and made his way to the kitchen after he made sure Dawn was off in her own researching world and was oblivious to anything around her.
Walking into the kitchen, he was greeted with a sight that made his mouth water and hic cock twitch. Joyce was bent over, putting something in the stove and the way her dress molded to every curve was positively sinful. As he was a mere mortal, he couldn’t resist walking up behind her, placing his hands on her hips and grinding himself in the cleft of her ass. She was more than responsive, triggering what could only be described as a session of dry humping that made him curse not being alone with her. Through the fog of lust that had enveloped both of them, he finally acknowledged that she was trying to communicate and her movements had stopped.
“Bloody hell, woman, are you trying to kill me? Either shag me or slap me, but stop teasing, will you?” In all honesty, he did not expect the slap he received.
“Listen up, mister. I’ve had a very hard day and I still haven’t figured it all out in my head. What I do know is that either you work with me and my daughters, or you can go right now back to those stuck up former employers of yours. And just in case you’re wondering, just one of the options includes what we almost did just now,” Joyce stated in such a matter-of-fact tone that Giles briefly wondered about possible connections to Anya.
“What’s this about, then?”
“It’s about you deciding what’s best for Buffy. It ends now, both with her and with Dawn. I will not have you ruining her life, do I make myself clear?”
“When did I do that? I really don’t see where all of this is coming from,” Giles said, feeling his ire rising at the accusations that were thrown his way seemingly out of the blue.
“Fine, then. Since we’re both here and you seem willing to listen, let’s begin. Bendis and Zamolxis paid me a visit earlier.”