Day 9 . The Benefits of Inter-Agency Cooperation . B:tVS x Fast and Furious
Title: The Benefits of Inter-Agency Cooperation
Author: jedibuttercup
Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds are not
Rating: T; het
Prompt/Prompter: syddracc, who asked for "Shaw had demons working for him and the DSA sends Buffy to help Hobbs and the team deal with them. Sparks fly between Buffy and Hobbs!"
Spoilers: Post-series for Buffy, no comics; set during Fast & Furious 6.
Notes: Not quite the letter of the prompt, but close. Hope you enjoy!
Summary: Owen Shaw had demons working with him, too. Fortunately, Hobbs had another consultant in mind for that aspect of the job: Buffy Summers. 1600w.
"Well, here we are," the big DSS Agent said, gesturing around his industrial-chic secret headquarters. "Most of this setup's for the drivers' team, but if there's anything you can use here, feel free."
Buffy glanced around at the slick computer monitors, the high-tech weaponry lined up on long tables, and the shiny black cars parked between concrete pillars near a freight elevator leading down to street level. It looked like nothing so much as the kind of Lair the Trio's basement digs back in Sunnydale had wanted to grow up to be, full of cool-spectrum colors and high-pricetag gadgets.
Her sister's report about the Rome interlude in the Great Shaw Chase had focused more on the size of Agent Hobbs' biceps than the quality of his tech gear, but the layout before her explained so much about Andrew's equally tl;dr enthusiasm. Not that the biceps probably wouldn't have been enough all on their own; Dawn hadn't been wrong about that. The fact that their owner had chased his quarry all the way to London, though, was enough to take the shine off all the expensive toys on view.
"Nah, I'm good," she shrugged, touching the sword belt slung over her shoulder. "Though I wouldn't say no to new intel. London isn't like anywhere else you've chased Shaw; not even Rome. If he stirs up the supernatural community here, it's going to get real messy, real fast. You said drivers, though-- does that mean you're finally all with the clueful?"
"Yeah; we finally got our hands on one of Shaw's team in Moscow." A grimly satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth; Buffy was willing to bet the 'hands' in question had been more literal than metaphorical. "Not one of the demons, unfortunately; the guy didn't know shit about his arrangement with the Archduke. But he did spill enough to put a few more pieces of the jigsaw together, and that was enough to give us a sense of the overall picture."
"Hit me with it," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest as he turned to the computers.
"They're building a Nightshade device," he said, pulling up a complicated-looking diagram on one of the monitors. "A tech bomb. Designed to take down the entire military infrastructure of a small country, and as a consequence, all other local technology along with it. Twenty-four hour blackout, including anything powered by public utilities or attached to a computer network. The latest raids have been aimed at collecting the three most vital parts; they picked up the second one in Moscow a few days ago. We've got a line on their next meeting place in London, but no location yet for the final target."
"Instant Dark Ages in a can," Buffy realized, suppressing a shudder. They were lucky they'd been able to stop Moloch all those years ago before he'd got to that level of threat; the fallout would be even uglier, now. Most of the world ran on computers these days, even in her line of work: security, intel, finance, it was kind of hard to avoid unless you went full-on moat and drawbridge and kept your money in gold bricks hidden in the walls. All the innovations modern society used to beat back the shadows would be snuffed out in an instant. "Just what the ambitious demon lord ordered."
Hobbs nodded. "The drivers are mundanes; insanely talented, but strictly my side of the road. I haven't filled them in on that part; they think it'll be sold on the black market for billions. Not like ISIL or the like wouldn't make a play if it was on offer, so they've bought that story so far; and I'm hoping you'll be able to head the usual demon diversion off at the pass before it gets anywhere near us. The last thing we need is a zerg rush of vampires interfering with the takedown or distracting the guys mid-course."
"That answers my other question; why Giles called the Scoobies in this time, rather than one of the local Slayer teams," Buffy nodded. "There's echoes of an old Hellmouth here, and it was the main Council Headquarters for a lot of years. The local communities are ancient, dug in deep, and weed out their own brainless minions before they can attract attention. If he does recruit support here, it won't be the usual stakefodder."
Hobbs tilted his head, giving her a narrow-eyed look. "Scoobies, huh. Thought they called you the Slayer General, not Danger-Prone Daphne?" He hadn't blinked an eye when she walked in, but he was visibly taking her measure now, eyeing her from updone hair to daintily painted, sandal-framed toes.
Buffy adopted a wide-eyed expression in response, batting her eyelashes as she looked up the foot and more of height between them. "This guy wants to take over the world? That's so mean!"
He barked a laugh at that, a rueful grin breaking through the skepticism. "I didn't mean it as an insult-- you know I've been working with your people for months now, since our investigation on that stray reference to the Archduke sent up red flags with your agency. I've seen what your girls can do. But you have to admit, when the most petite and deadliest of them all shows up with a nickname like that... well, it makes a man wonder just what sort of danger travels in your wake."
There was an unexpected hint of interest underlying those last words; and the grin was wide enough to involve Hobbs' whole face, lighting up his eyes and sending a different sort of shiver up her spine. Bald wasn't usually her thing, nor was the goatee bracketing his mouth, but tough, forthright, clued in enough not to either underestimate her or balk at his first sight of a vampire, and built like the proverbial brick shithouse? Mmm, and better yet, he knew how to share laughter; the older Buffy got, the more she valued that quality in a partner. No matter how temporary the partnership, or what flavor it might be.
And in this case? She was thinking 'mmm, salty goodness.' She grinned back, mentally penciling a little more Diplomatic Security Service 'cooperation' into her schedule than she'd originally planned. "Text me after your meet, and maybe you'll get a chance to find out."
"Damn, woman. I should have asked to bring you in on this sooner," Hobbs chuckled. Then he let the smile fade, going serious on her again. "I know you guys are the best in the world at what you do; just like I am, and the others I've recruited. But Shaw's the best in the world at what he does, too, and this one's for all the marbles. Watch yourself out there, and keep me posted if anything unexpected goes down. It might just be my paranoia acting up... but I also believe there's no such thing as overkill, and the way Shaw strikes like thunder and disappears like smoke, this might be our best chance to stop him."
"You watch yourself, too. We're a little short on government guys who get it lately, and my sister would never forgive me if those biceps disappeared from the world in any way that might somehow be construed as my fault," she replied, lightly.
"Nice to know I made an impression... though I hoped it would be for a little more than my muscles and my connections," he snorted.
"Think of it as a selection of high points, not a summation," Buffy said, then took several deliberate steps forward, closing the space between them.
She could see the effect on his breathing as she got close, but he kept an impressively straight face; she grinned again as she stopped near enough to reach through his personal space to grab a knife off the weapons table. You couldn't bring too many blades to a potential demon fight, right?
"Is that so," he said softly, looking down at her, his voice a low rumble that went straight to her hormones.
"Mmm," said appreciatively as she tucked the knife away at the small of her back. "You have a first name, Hobbs? Or is it just Agent?"
Hobbs smirked, eyes dilating as he watched her every move. "Lucas," he replied. "Call me Luke."
"Call me Buffy." Then she stretched up on her toes, bracing a hand in the center of his chest, and tilted her face up to his. "Speaking of high points."
She left it to him to cross the last breath of distance: confirmation that the overture was welcome. He didn't hesitate, bracketing her hips with his large, warm hands as he slanted his mouth over hers.
If every kiss said something different? This one was a respectful, yet sizzling 'hello'. Salty goodness indeed. "Preview of coming attractions," Buffy murmured as she pulled away, letting him set her back on her feet.
"Now that's what I call incentive," he replied, a hungry light in his eyes as he let go. Then he pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and passed it to her. "Here's the address of the meet; I'm sure your people will know where to go from there better than I would."
She took it with a nod, then turned away, putting a sway in her hips as she headed for the elevator. "Good luck with your takedown, Luke."
"Happy hunting, Buffy," he growled in reply.
She felt his eyes on her back all the way down to the street; then she reluctantly shifted mental gears to the task at hand.
-x-
Author: jedibuttercup
Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds are not
Rating: T; het
Prompt/Prompter: syddracc, who asked for "Shaw had demons working for him and the DSA sends Buffy to help Hobbs and the team deal with them. Sparks fly between Buffy and Hobbs!"
Spoilers: Post-series for Buffy, no comics; set during Fast & Furious 6.
Notes: Not quite the letter of the prompt, but close. Hope you enjoy!
Summary: Owen Shaw had demons working with him, too. Fortunately, Hobbs had another consultant in mind for that aspect of the job: Buffy Summers. 1600w.
"Well, here we are," the big DSS Agent said, gesturing around his industrial-chic secret headquarters. "Most of this setup's for the drivers' team, but if there's anything you can use here, feel free."
Buffy glanced around at the slick computer monitors, the high-tech weaponry lined up on long tables, and the shiny black cars parked between concrete pillars near a freight elevator leading down to street level. It looked like nothing so much as the kind of Lair the Trio's basement digs back in Sunnydale had wanted to grow up to be, full of cool-spectrum colors and high-pricetag gadgets.
Her sister's report about the Rome interlude in the Great Shaw Chase had focused more on the size of Agent Hobbs' biceps than the quality of his tech gear, but the layout before her explained so much about Andrew's equally tl;dr enthusiasm. Not that the biceps probably wouldn't have been enough all on their own; Dawn hadn't been wrong about that. The fact that their owner had chased his quarry all the way to London, though, was enough to take the shine off all the expensive toys on view.
"Nah, I'm good," she shrugged, touching the sword belt slung over her shoulder. "Though I wouldn't say no to new intel. London isn't like anywhere else you've chased Shaw; not even Rome. If he stirs up the supernatural community here, it's going to get real messy, real fast. You said drivers, though-- does that mean you're finally all with the clueful?"
"Yeah; we finally got our hands on one of Shaw's team in Moscow." A grimly satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth; Buffy was willing to bet the 'hands' in question had been more literal than metaphorical. "Not one of the demons, unfortunately; the guy didn't know shit about his arrangement with the Archduke. But he did spill enough to put a few more pieces of the jigsaw together, and that was enough to give us a sense of the overall picture."
"Hit me with it," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest as he turned to the computers.
"They're building a Nightshade device," he said, pulling up a complicated-looking diagram on one of the monitors. "A tech bomb. Designed to take down the entire military infrastructure of a small country, and as a consequence, all other local technology along with it. Twenty-four hour blackout, including anything powered by public utilities or attached to a computer network. The latest raids have been aimed at collecting the three most vital parts; they picked up the second one in Moscow a few days ago. We've got a line on their next meeting place in London, but no location yet for the final target."
"Instant Dark Ages in a can," Buffy realized, suppressing a shudder. They were lucky they'd been able to stop Moloch all those years ago before he'd got to that level of threat; the fallout would be even uglier, now. Most of the world ran on computers these days, even in her line of work: security, intel, finance, it was kind of hard to avoid unless you went full-on moat and drawbridge and kept your money in gold bricks hidden in the walls. All the innovations modern society used to beat back the shadows would be snuffed out in an instant. "Just what the ambitious demon lord ordered."
Hobbs nodded. "The drivers are mundanes; insanely talented, but strictly my side of the road. I haven't filled them in on that part; they think it'll be sold on the black market for billions. Not like ISIL or the like wouldn't make a play if it was on offer, so they've bought that story so far; and I'm hoping you'll be able to head the usual demon diversion off at the pass before it gets anywhere near us. The last thing we need is a zerg rush of vampires interfering with the takedown or distracting the guys mid-course."
"That answers my other question; why Giles called the Scoobies in this time, rather than one of the local Slayer teams," Buffy nodded. "There's echoes of an old Hellmouth here, and it was the main Council Headquarters for a lot of years. The local communities are ancient, dug in deep, and weed out their own brainless minions before they can attract attention. If he does recruit support here, it won't be the usual stakefodder."
Hobbs tilted his head, giving her a narrow-eyed look. "Scoobies, huh. Thought they called you the Slayer General, not Danger-Prone Daphne?" He hadn't blinked an eye when she walked in, but he was visibly taking her measure now, eyeing her from updone hair to daintily painted, sandal-framed toes.
Buffy adopted a wide-eyed expression in response, batting her eyelashes as she looked up the foot and more of height between them. "This guy wants to take over the world? That's so mean!"
He barked a laugh at that, a rueful grin breaking through the skepticism. "I didn't mean it as an insult-- you know I've been working with your people for months now, since our investigation on that stray reference to the Archduke sent up red flags with your agency. I've seen what your girls can do. But you have to admit, when the most petite and deadliest of them all shows up with a nickname like that... well, it makes a man wonder just what sort of danger travels in your wake."
There was an unexpected hint of interest underlying those last words; and the grin was wide enough to involve Hobbs' whole face, lighting up his eyes and sending a different sort of shiver up her spine. Bald wasn't usually her thing, nor was the goatee bracketing his mouth, but tough, forthright, clued in enough not to either underestimate her or balk at his first sight of a vampire, and built like the proverbial brick shithouse? Mmm, and better yet, he knew how to share laughter; the older Buffy got, the more she valued that quality in a partner. No matter how temporary the partnership, or what flavor it might be.
And in this case? She was thinking 'mmm, salty goodness.' She grinned back, mentally penciling a little more Diplomatic Security Service 'cooperation' into her schedule than she'd originally planned. "Text me after your meet, and maybe you'll get a chance to find out."
"Damn, woman. I should have asked to bring you in on this sooner," Hobbs chuckled. Then he let the smile fade, going serious on her again. "I know you guys are the best in the world at what you do; just like I am, and the others I've recruited. But Shaw's the best in the world at what he does, too, and this one's for all the marbles. Watch yourself out there, and keep me posted if anything unexpected goes down. It might just be my paranoia acting up... but I also believe there's no such thing as overkill, and the way Shaw strikes like thunder and disappears like smoke, this might be our best chance to stop him."
"You watch yourself, too. We're a little short on government guys who get it lately, and my sister would never forgive me if those biceps disappeared from the world in any way that might somehow be construed as my fault," she replied, lightly.
"Nice to know I made an impression... though I hoped it would be for a little more than my muscles and my connections," he snorted.
"Think of it as a selection of high points, not a summation," Buffy said, then took several deliberate steps forward, closing the space between them.
She could see the effect on his breathing as she got close, but he kept an impressively straight face; she grinned again as she stopped near enough to reach through his personal space to grab a knife off the weapons table. You couldn't bring too many blades to a potential demon fight, right?
"Is that so," he said softly, looking down at her, his voice a low rumble that went straight to her hormones.
"Mmm," said appreciatively as she tucked the knife away at the small of her back. "You have a first name, Hobbs? Or is it just Agent?"
Hobbs smirked, eyes dilating as he watched her every move. "Lucas," he replied. "Call me Luke."
"Call me Buffy." Then she stretched up on her toes, bracing a hand in the center of his chest, and tilted her face up to his. "Speaking of high points."
She left it to him to cross the last breath of distance: confirmation that the overture was welcome. He didn't hesitate, bracketing her hips with his large, warm hands as he slanted his mouth over hers.
If every kiss said something different? This one was a respectful, yet sizzling 'hello'. Salty goodness indeed. "Preview of coming attractions," Buffy murmured as she pulled away, letting him set her back on her feet.
"Now that's what I call incentive," he replied, a hungry light in his eyes as he let go. Then he pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and passed it to her. "Here's the address of the meet; I'm sure your people will know where to go from there better than I would."
She took it with a nod, then turned away, putting a sway in her hips as she headed for the elevator. "Good luck with your takedown, Luke."
"Happy hunting, Buffy," he growled in reply.
She felt his eyes on her back all the way down to the street; then she reluctantly shifted mental gears to the task at hand.
-x-