FF Running With the Devil Chapter 3.
Title:Running With the Devil
Author: Dark Wyldchilde (wyldchilde37@yahoo.com)
Rating: Let's err on the side of caution and go NC-17.
Setting: My Lock AU, starting with "Life on the Farm". While it started more traditional fan fic, this is the eighth in the series and most wonderfully has developed into it's own world, that just happens to be populated by characters from other series.
Summary: The soldiers of the Lock are coming to the understanding that the reason there isn't a plural for the word apocalypse is because it would devalue the concept, and the doomsdays that they have been facing have simply been warming them up.
Spoilers: While this IS it's own universe now I will freely draw upon Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, NCIS, the Executioner/Stonyman Farm and now Supernatural.
Disclaimers: This is a not for profit work of fanfic and is in no way a challenge to existing copyrights.
Wyld's Notes: I tried not to write this fic. Literally, I thought having three cannons in the same universe was pushing it (I count Buffy and Angel as one for obvious reasons), but when I tried to NOT write this my muse overruled me, and since people have been finding the other things she's encouraged me to write worth their time I figured I would share this as well.
Chapter 3.
Tara leaned both her cane and herself against the wall of the elevator, rolling her shoulders to loosen the muscles. She was on the mend, not entirely mended, but close enough to work.
Groaning as the muscles loosened she looked up to see her reflection staring back at her in the metal of the elevator button panel, and she found herself speaking.
"Did you know Momma? Did you have any idea where I would end up? That the shy, stuttering, scared little girl I was would end up this warrior woman I've become? That not only would I go into battle, but that I would fight, and kill, threats both inhuman, and all too human?"
She sighed. "I don't regret it Momma. Not one bit. Even with all the blood, and the pain, I know I'm doing good here, and I can take it."
Another sigh escaped her lips, and it was more emotional. "But I know what it does to Faith. It does the same to me when she's the one who's hurt, but where she recovers in no time I'm STILL healing, and I know it hurts her."
Taking a deep breath she looked back at the reflection. "But neither one of us will stop. Neither one of us can. We won't stop trying to help, to do good, to save lives."
Feeling stronger she took hold of her cane as the elevator doors opened. Whispering quietly as she stepped out she whispered. "Thank you Momma. I know it's been awhile since we've talked."
The elevator had let her out in the armories armory, and she walked down the hallway to a certain room. A room that Faith called the "Antiques Roadshow" section of the armory.
Which of course wasn't true as they had a great many antiquities at the Lock, but they had either been deemed safe and were being circulated into use with their modern counterparts, been deemed dangerous and were either destroyed or locked away if destruction wasn't currently possible, or were in the process of being analyzed to see which category they fell into.
The sight that greeted Tara however had Faith saying a "Wild West show threw up in my armory!" when she first saw it.
Between Haswari telling them they must find the Winchesters, and the discovery that not only had Samuel Colt built a revolver that could kill anything, but that the bullet pulled out of the chest of Azazel's vessel appeared to match their description of the revolver's special rounds, the Lock had spent the last three months hunting down magickal guns.
The principal in creating an enchanted firearm was approximately the same as creating any enchanted object, lethal or otherwise, but the key principle was that it had to be hand made. The more manufactured it was the more trouble it would have holding a mystic charge, let alone holding it long enough to be called "enchanted".
It wasn't to say that they couldn't make modern technological enchanted items, but with scientific creations like dragon's breath rounds for creatures vulnerable to fire, and Abby's wooden bullets the time it would take to make magick guns was often better spent putting the scientific rounds to use.
Though some of the things she saw Willow doing to her mainframes... well Tara trusted the red head with what she was doing she knew that her ex was using her incredibly brilliant mind to blur the line between science and sorcery.
The fact that Willow was able to talk so passionately about how the line was artificially put up by humanity... Tara shook her head, the topic was guns, not Willow and her techno-wizardry.
They were out to find the Winchesters, and they were hoping to find the Colt. An idea that had her picturing Faith using the Colt... in full cowgirl dress.
Tony's voice broker her reverie. "What do you think she's smiling about?"
Ziva was the one who replied. "That smile? Faith."
Tara blushed lightly, smiling at her two agents catching her having a Wild West fantasy about her partner, but they were both part of her extended family, and they were the only three people in the room so her embarrassment passed quickly.
"What do we got?"
It was obvious DiNozzo was battling the urge to tease her some more, but he decided against it as he picked up a lever action rifle he and Ziva were logging in. "A pretty neat one actually. McGee called it a 'Morphic Rifle"
He held it up to his shoulder, sighting down the barrel as he narrated.
"Okay, you point this at a monster, work the lever." Tony illustrated by working the lever action. "And then pull the trigger and the bullet comes out whatever you need it to be to do the most damage to whatever you are shooting it. You know silver, iron, whatever."
Quite interested Tara stepped closer and Tony handed her the rifle so she could examine it personally.
Ziva interrupted. "At least it is supposed to. The effect has NOT been tested yet."
Witch Woman nodded, still focused on the rifle. "It's definitely enchanted. Set up some field tests, both on creatures we know have a metal based weakness, and those we don't... I kinda wanna see what this will shoot at say a vampire. Will it fire one of Abby's wooden bullets? Or what?"
Setting it down the table she met both of her agents eyes. "If it does work, even if it's just the metal based bullets I want this analyzed by our enchanters to attempt to reverse engineer it. Our production would be limited, but it's really a neat idea."
Tony and Ziva nodded their understanding, and agreeing that it was a good idea for a gun.
"Just one though right?"
The two armed investigators nodded.
Tara sighed. "Neat as it is it's not quite what you would expect to decide Armageddon, and Ari was very clear when he said Winchesters, as in plural."
With Tony and Ziva logging their latest acquisition downstairs Gibbs armed investigators were continuing the search from a section of rooms off of the Control Room that had been designated their new squad room.
McGee was online, and Lex had pulled up a chair next to him, figuring that his technological skills could pull up possibles that her occult knowledge could thin out for leads.
Gibbs was there as well, but taking a personal video conference with Mike Franks. Or more accurately Gibbs old mentor was yelling at him from the computer set up on the old Marine's kitchen table.
Mike's visit had unfolded approximately as Gibbs had predicted. With the problem not being considered dire enough for the intervention of one of the Lock's action teams, but rather a pack of slayers being sent down to wipe the infestation of vampires out.
They had been having trouble tracking them all down as the vampires had taken up turning jungle natives who were having a great deal of success avoiding the Lock's slayers while rebuilding any numbers they lost.
Still, they had yet to loose a single slayer, and the girls seemed in good spirits.
Gibbs prediction about Mike being willing to act as the girl's handler had also been proven accurate and the old Marine wasn't in as high of spirits.
"I have half a dozen half dressed teens romping around my beach all day and out killing, well, re-killing the undead all night. People are talking, Probie, and it ain't about blood suckers. They think I'm a pervy old man."
Considering his own status, he wasn't too sympathetic to Mike's plight. "You are a pervy... "
Mike didn't let him finish. "Do not finish that sentence."
Realizing there might actually be a serious issue he addressed it seriously. "We can relocate the team if it's an issue."
That had Franks scowling. "Ah, hell, Probie, the issue is... these teenie boppers, any one of them can kick my ass. Hell, two of them were horsin around and one of them picked up the damn sail boat. Picked it up."
That had Gibbs smiling because he had deliberately wanted to get some of the girl's the benefit of the old Marine's wisdom. "Just teach 'em to stay alive."
Then Mike's look became pained as his voice dropped. "Probie, they come through my kitchen in nothing but their britches."
Again reminded of his own circumstances Gibbs couldn't find any sympathy. "They wear less here."
Mike blinked at that. "Christ, your Charile from that old TV show."
Gibbs shook his head. "Nope. apparently, I'm Bosley."
Squinting Mike had to comment. "Well you look like crap Bosley."
Reaching to the side Gibbs took up his cup of coffee and took a long drink. "It's this current case Mike. We've been working it three months without a single damn lead."
Mike lit up a cigarette. "Tell me about it."
Shrugging Gibbs knew Mike had been cleared when he had been cleared to baby sit the slayers.
So he told him about it, right from when Ari had danced with Buffy at the club Apostate to when he burst into flames down in their interrogation room.
Franks exhaled. "Winchesters."
Gibbs nodded. "Yep."
Franks put out a cigarette into the ash tray he had in front of him. "Probie. You need to get some of my old case notes, round the end of eighty three, Lawrence Kansas."
Gibbs perked up. "What will I be looking for?"
Mike lit another cigarette and took a deep drag before replying. "House fire, case was a bit off because the Marine had actually finished his time and had returned to civilian life, but he swore it wasn't a simple house fire that killed his wife Mary."
"The locals called it an electrical fire and closed the case, but he had a few favors left over from his time in the Corps and got me sent in to give it a second look, and he sore Probie, he swore that he heard his wife scream from the direction of their baby's nursery. Running upstairs he looked in on his son Sam, and first he didn't see anything. Then a drop of blood landed next to the baby. Looking up he saw his wife, pinned to the ceiling and bleeding from her stomach."
McGee and Lex had stopped what they were doing to walk over and listen in, Gibbs giving them an acknowledging nod to do so.
After an exhale of smoke Mike continued. "He said the fire started FROM her Jethro."
Gibbs then had to ask. "And you believed him?"
Mike's response was instant. "Hell no! But that was more because I knew that kind of shit didn't happen, but damn it when I looked in that Marine's eyes I knew he damn well believed it, and now..."
"So how does this fit into my case Mike?"
Even though the two men were on different continents their eyes met as Mike spoke. "His name was Winchester, John Winchester. His wife's name was Mary and he had two boys Sam, and Dean."
Over his shoulder Lex's voice was stunned. "John Winchester?"
Realizing the connection Lex had made Gibbs nodded quickly to his old friend. "Thanks Mike! I think you just gave us the key!"
Knowing Gibbs had a lead to chase Franks just nodded. "Let me know how it works out."
The video conference was closed from both ends, and the three jumped up and ran into the Temple of the Oracle. Gibbs quickly addressing the woman herself at her console.
"Winchester, John, former Marine, wife Mary died in a house fire in 83, sons Sam and Dean."
Faith and Tara had heard them charge into the control room and had emerged from Tara's office as they did.
Tara was the one to state the obvious. "They're people?"
Willow confirmed it with a minimal amount of key strokes bringing up police files to her main screen.
Faith followed that by slapping her hand on a near by railing. "Fuck me! They're people!"
Lex just added to it. "That's the John I met in Hell! I'm certain!"
Faith followed that by slapping the rail again. "Fuck me twice!"
Tara took Faith's slapping right hand and kissed it. "Later Love, right now we have a lead to follow."
Off to the side a war wizard with pale skin, black hair, and glasses was returning with yet another enchanted rifle. "If that's the case can I have this one? It would look GREAT in my living room."
That had everyone in the room giving him a cold stare.
"Right... I'll just go log this in then."
Author: Dark Wyldchilde (wyldchilde37@yahoo.com)
Rating: Let's err on the side of caution and go NC-17.
Setting: My Lock AU, starting with "Life on the Farm". While it started more traditional fan fic, this is the eighth in the series and most wonderfully has developed into it's own world, that just happens to be populated by characters from other series.
Summary: The soldiers of the Lock are coming to the understanding that the reason there isn't a plural for the word apocalypse is because it would devalue the concept, and the doomsdays that they have been facing have simply been warming them up.
Spoilers: While this IS it's own universe now I will freely draw upon Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, NCIS, the Executioner/Stonyman Farm and now Supernatural.
Disclaimers: This is a not for profit work of fanfic and is in no way a challenge to existing copyrights.
Wyld's Notes: I tried not to write this fic. Literally, I thought having three cannons in the same universe was pushing it (I count Buffy and Angel as one for obvious reasons), but when I tried to NOT write this my muse overruled me, and since people have been finding the other things she's encouraged me to write worth their time I figured I would share this as well.
Chapter 3.
Tara leaned both her cane and herself against the wall of the elevator, rolling her shoulders to loosen the muscles. She was on the mend, not entirely mended, but close enough to work.
Groaning as the muscles loosened she looked up to see her reflection staring back at her in the metal of the elevator button panel, and she found herself speaking.
"Did you know Momma? Did you have any idea where I would end up? That the shy, stuttering, scared little girl I was would end up this warrior woman I've become? That not only would I go into battle, but that I would fight, and kill, threats both inhuman, and all too human?"
She sighed. "I don't regret it Momma. Not one bit. Even with all the blood, and the pain, I know I'm doing good here, and I can take it."
Another sigh escaped her lips, and it was more emotional. "But I know what it does to Faith. It does the same to me when she's the one who's hurt, but where she recovers in no time I'm STILL healing, and I know it hurts her."
Taking a deep breath she looked back at the reflection. "But neither one of us will stop. Neither one of us can. We won't stop trying to help, to do good, to save lives."
Feeling stronger she took hold of her cane as the elevator doors opened. Whispering quietly as she stepped out she whispered. "Thank you Momma. I know it's been awhile since we've talked."
The elevator had let her out in the armories armory, and she walked down the hallway to a certain room. A room that Faith called the "Antiques Roadshow" section of the armory.
Which of course wasn't true as they had a great many antiquities at the Lock, but they had either been deemed safe and were being circulated into use with their modern counterparts, been deemed dangerous and were either destroyed or locked away if destruction wasn't currently possible, or were in the process of being analyzed to see which category they fell into.
The sight that greeted Tara however had Faith saying a "Wild West show threw up in my armory!" when she first saw it.
Between Haswari telling them they must find the Winchesters, and the discovery that not only had Samuel Colt built a revolver that could kill anything, but that the bullet pulled out of the chest of Azazel's vessel appeared to match their description of the revolver's special rounds, the Lock had spent the last three months hunting down magickal guns.
The principal in creating an enchanted firearm was approximately the same as creating any enchanted object, lethal or otherwise, but the key principle was that it had to be hand made. The more manufactured it was the more trouble it would have holding a mystic charge, let alone holding it long enough to be called "enchanted".
It wasn't to say that they couldn't make modern technological enchanted items, but with scientific creations like dragon's breath rounds for creatures vulnerable to fire, and Abby's wooden bullets the time it would take to make magick guns was often better spent putting the scientific rounds to use.
Though some of the things she saw Willow doing to her mainframes... well Tara trusted the red head with what she was doing she knew that her ex was using her incredibly brilliant mind to blur the line between science and sorcery.
The fact that Willow was able to talk so passionately about how the line was artificially put up by humanity... Tara shook her head, the topic was guns, not Willow and her techno-wizardry.
They were out to find the Winchesters, and they were hoping to find the Colt. An idea that had her picturing Faith using the Colt... in full cowgirl dress.
Tony's voice broker her reverie. "What do you think she's smiling about?"
Ziva was the one who replied. "That smile? Faith."
Tara blushed lightly, smiling at her two agents catching her having a Wild West fantasy about her partner, but they were both part of her extended family, and they were the only three people in the room so her embarrassment passed quickly.
"What do we got?"
It was obvious DiNozzo was battling the urge to tease her some more, but he decided against it as he picked up a lever action rifle he and Ziva were logging in. "A pretty neat one actually. McGee called it a 'Morphic Rifle"
He held it up to his shoulder, sighting down the barrel as he narrated.
"Okay, you point this at a monster, work the lever." Tony illustrated by working the lever action. "And then pull the trigger and the bullet comes out whatever you need it to be to do the most damage to whatever you are shooting it. You know silver, iron, whatever."
Quite interested Tara stepped closer and Tony handed her the rifle so she could examine it personally.
Ziva interrupted. "At least it is supposed to. The effect has NOT been tested yet."
Witch Woman nodded, still focused on the rifle. "It's definitely enchanted. Set up some field tests, both on creatures we know have a metal based weakness, and those we don't... I kinda wanna see what this will shoot at say a vampire. Will it fire one of Abby's wooden bullets? Or what?"
Setting it down the table she met both of her agents eyes. "If it does work, even if it's just the metal based bullets I want this analyzed by our enchanters to attempt to reverse engineer it. Our production would be limited, but it's really a neat idea."
Tony and Ziva nodded their understanding, and agreeing that it was a good idea for a gun.
"Just one though right?"
The two armed investigators nodded.
Tara sighed. "Neat as it is it's not quite what you would expect to decide Armageddon, and Ari was very clear when he said Winchesters, as in plural."
With Tony and Ziva logging their latest acquisition downstairs Gibbs armed investigators were continuing the search from a section of rooms off of the Control Room that had been designated their new squad room.
McGee was online, and Lex had pulled up a chair next to him, figuring that his technological skills could pull up possibles that her occult knowledge could thin out for leads.
Gibbs was there as well, but taking a personal video conference with Mike Franks. Or more accurately Gibbs old mentor was yelling at him from the computer set up on the old Marine's kitchen table.
Mike's visit had unfolded approximately as Gibbs had predicted. With the problem not being considered dire enough for the intervention of one of the Lock's action teams, but rather a pack of slayers being sent down to wipe the infestation of vampires out.
They had been having trouble tracking them all down as the vampires had taken up turning jungle natives who were having a great deal of success avoiding the Lock's slayers while rebuilding any numbers they lost.
Still, they had yet to loose a single slayer, and the girls seemed in good spirits.
Gibbs prediction about Mike being willing to act as the girl's handler had also been proven accurate and the old Marine wasn't in as high of spirits.
"I have half a dozen half dressed teens romping around my beach all day and out killing, well, re-killing the undead all night. People are talking, Probie, and it ain't about blood suckers. They think I'm a pervy old man."
Considering his own status, he wasn't too sympathetic to Mike's plight. "You are a pervy... "
Mike didn't let him finish. "Do not finish that sentence."
Realizing there might actually be a serious issue he addressed it seriously. "We can relocate the team if it's an issue."
That had Franks scowling. "Ah, hell, Probie, the issue is... these teenie boppers, any one of them can kick my ass. Hell, two of them were horsin around and one of them picked up the damn sail boat. Picked it up."
That had Gibbs smiling because he had deliberately wanted to get some of the girl's the benefit of the old Marine's wisdom. "Just teach 'em to stay alive."
Then Mike's look became pained as his voice dropped. "Probie, they come through my kitchen in nothing but their britches."
Again reminded of his own circumstances Gibbs couldn't find any sympathy. "They wear less here."
Mike blinked at that. "Christ, your Charile from that old TV show."
Gibbs shook his head. "Nope. apparently, I'm Bosley."
Squinting Mike had to comment. "Well you look like crap Bosley."
Reaching to the side Gibbs took up his cup of coffee and took a long drink. "It's this current case Mike. We've been working it three months without a single damn lead."
Mike lit up a cigarette. "Tell me about it."
Shrugging Gibbs knew Mike had been cleared when he had been cleared to baby sit the slayers.
So he told him about it, right from when Ari had danced with Buffy at the club Apostate to when he burst into flames down in their interrogation room.
Franks exhaled. "Winchesters."
Gibbs nodded. "Yep."
Franks put out a cigarette into the ash tray he had in front of him. "Probie. You need to get some of my old case notes, round the end of eighty three, Lawrence Kansas."
Gibbs perked up. "What will I be looking for?"
Mike lit another cigarette and took a deep drag before replying. "House fire, case was a bit off because the Marine had actually finished his time and had returned to civilian life, but he swore it wasn't a simple house fire that killed his wife Mary."
"The locals called it an electrical fire and closed the case, but he had a few favors left over from his time in the Corps and got me sent in to give it a second look, and he sore Probie, he swore that he heard his wife scream from the direction of their baby's nursery. Running upstairs he looked in on his son Sam, and first he didn't see anything. Then a drop of blood landed next to the baby. Looking up he saw his wife, pinned to the ceiling and bleeding from her stomach."
McGee and Lex had stopped what they were doing to walk over and listen in, Gibbs giving them an acknowledging nod to do so.
After an exhale of smoke Mike continued. "He said the fire started FROM her Jethro."
Gibbs then had to ask. "And you believed him?"
Mike's response was instant. "Hell no! But that was more because I knew that kind of shit didn't happen, but damn it when I looked in that Marine's eyes I knew he damn well believed it, and now..."
"So how does this fit into my case Mike?"
Even though the two men were on different continents their eyes met as Mike spoke. "His name was Winchester, John Winchester. His wife's name was Mary and he had two boys Sam, and Dean."
Over his shoulder Lex's voice was stunned. "John Winchester?"
Realizing the connection Lex had made Gibbs nodded quickly to his old friend. "Thanks Mike! I think you just gave us the key!"
Knowing Gibbs had a lead to chase Franks just nodded. "Let me know how it works out."
The video conference was closed from both ends, and the three jumped up and ran into the Temple of the Oracle. Gibbs quickly addressing the woman herself at her console.
"Winchester, John, former Marine, wife Mary died in a house fire in 83, sons Sam and Dean."
Faith and Tara had heard them charge into the control room and had emerged from Tara's office as they did.
Tara was the one to state the obvious. "They're people?"
Willow confirmed it with a minimal amount of key strokes bringing up police files to her main screen.
Faith followed that by slapping her hand on a near by railing. "Fuck me! They're people!"
Lex just added to it. "That's the John I met in Hell! I'm certain!"
Faith followed that by slapping the rail again. "Fuck me twice!"
Tara took Faith's slapping right hand and kissed it. "Later Love, right now we have a lead to follow."
Off to the side a war wizard with pale skin, black hair, and glasses was returning with yet another enchanted rifle. "If that's the case can I have this one? It would look GREAT in my living room."
That had everyone in the room giving him a cold stare.
"Right... I'll just go log this in then."