Friend of my Friend Chapter 22.
Title: Friend of my Friend
Author: Dark Wyldchilde (wyldchilde37@yahoo.com)
Rating:NC-17, this is me, there will be sex, and there will be violence.
Pairing: Faith/Tara, Ziva/Abby
Setting: This is the fourth story in my Lock series.
Summary: Marines are missing, and turning up as vampires. The Lock is seeking out the source, and will do so with some new allies.
Spoilers: This story can and will combine any elements I care to from all of the runs of Buffy and Angel as well as the Stony Man Farm/Executioner books. Now it also includes NCIS to present, but it will also contradict them as necessary, because much to my own delight it's taken on a life of it's own.
I have also decided to tinker with the Buffy/Angel time lines since in the case of Buffy the show has been done almost 7 years now.
Disclaimers: This is an independent, non-profit work of fanfiction. I know there are at least three sets (or more) of copyrights involved, and this story is not a challenge to any of them.
Wyld's Notes: You probably shouldn't be reading this story unless you've read my earlier fics "Life on the Farm" "Declaration of War" and "The Front" because without them this story might get confusing.
On a NCIS note I need to add I am keeping the Ziva/Gibbs cannon that she killed Ari to save Gibbs, and not the more recent nonsense that it was to get Gibbs to trust her.
More importantly I must send out my personal thanks to Lisa Countryman. She has been a wonderful sounding board, and has been essential in making this fic possible, including spoon feeding me the incredibly funny chapter 5, writing three whole chapters herself, and healthy sections of other chapters as well.
I also need to add a special thanks and welcome to my new beta reader laura jones.
Chapter 22.
Robert Young was a survivor. In law school that meant good grades and few friends, but that was ok. Sure he might not have gotten laid as much as his classmates, but he also didn't wind up chasing ambulances, or keeping that 50% divorce rate going.
No, while Bobby might not have been at the head of his class he had kept himself ahead of the mediocre middle of the herd and did well enough to attract the attention of the law firm Wolfram and Heart.
It was there his survival skills REALLY got put to use, sometimes figuratively, as he navigated the waters of office politics, and sometimes literally as he navigated the waters of Wolfram and Heart office politics, and again while Robert didn't truly distinguish himself he survived, and sometimes he wondered if it was that skill Wolfram and Heart had hired him for rather then any knowledge of jurisprudence.
Whatever the reason he managed to be the last man standing for a good ten years, until he was the one of last men standing, not in the literal rubble of the Wolfram and Heart offices, but after the smoke cleared and he found himself a free agent with a Blackberry full of contacts all over this world and stretching across others.
Of course those otherworldly contacts took more then an active cell tower to reach, but the ways to make contact with otherworldly beings were right in his employee handbook and Bobby had them memorized, but he didn't have to go looking to them for opportunities because one of them came to him.
His name was Johnathan Burken, MARHSAL Johnathan Burken a Prussian mercenary he had been turned after his sire had hired Burken's band to attack the manor home of the vampire's greatest rival and burn the place to the ground at high noon. The vampire had been so pleased with their services that he had turned the leader, who in turn turned his men.
They had served their master loyally until a band of slayers had surprised them with a night attack with modern weapons and tactics. It had surprised them utterly and three fourths of their band was lost along with their master.
Marshal Burken was a survivor as well, not only of that night, but of it's aftermath. He hadn't come to Bobby Young swearing vows of vengeance against those who had slain his sire. He saw his sire's death as the ending of his contract, and like any mercenary he started looking for his next one.
Now, not swearing vengeance didn't mean he wasn't going to learn from his last defeat. To the contrary it wasn't just going to be a new contract, but a whole, new, army. The humans were getting smarter, learning their ways while demons refused to learn the humans. It was starting to tip the balance and Marshal Burken was just the one to tip it back, for the right price of course, and Robert Young was the man to make it happen, for the right fee.
Mush to his delight Marshal Burken had no problems with Young wanting a percentage. Marshal Burken was a mercenary, and he wouldn't trust a man who didn't want his fair share, or more if he could get it, and Young could get it.
Marshal Burken and his men were military men, but military men from centuries ago, and not only did they not have any knowledge of the modern world they had no contacts to it.
Young provided the contacts, and that led to the men who had the knowledge of the modern war.
They had started slow, because even in a war zone missing soldiers get noticed, but Young's contacts were able to find them the names of Marines about ready to go home, got patrol schedules so convoys could be ambushed and burned bodies left in the Marines uniforms.
Problems started when the Marshal started "winning" and got a taste for it. He wanted more and more troops, and he wanted them last night, and he wanted supplies, all those wonderful weapons of war, and he wanted them in numbers Young's weapons dealers couldn't provide.
Then one of Young's contacts grew a conscience and tried to slip stateside. While he managed to get stateside the Marshal himself took care of the boy, which was good, and then turned him, which led to the loss of their military base stateside and their turning camp in Afghanistan.
Now Young's survivor instincts were screaming at him about the white van with no side windows and deeply tinted front windows. The fact that everywhere he went it turned up was too much of a coincidence in the first place. The fact that it was there as all their plans were starting to fall apart didn't require his delicately tuned survivor's instincts to tell him his fear was justified.
Young finally had it and turned and jogged down an alley, he cut over one, jogged up two more, and then doubled back. Or at least he tried to double back, in front of him the white van pulled across Bobby's planned exit, and he realized he had played right into their hands by leaving the busy streets.
He tried to turn back the way he came and found two women waiting for him. Both with black hair, one had brown eyes, tan skin and a windows peak, while the other had fairer skin and blue eyes. Turning back to the van he saw her, he recognized her right away from when she visited the LA offices of Wolfram and Heart back when that turncoat former vampire was in charge, but everyone knew Faith as the bitch who had awoken the Slayer line.
His anger quickly turned to fear as Faith smiled a wide, dimpled smile at him. He turned back to the other two women and found that the one with the widow's peak had gotten right behind him and had a cloth in hand she pressed to his face.
The smell of some sort of drug quickly overwhelmed his senses, and as his legs gave out he thought he heard Faith speak.
"See, sometimes it's good to be a girl with a reputation."
Another spoke, it wasn't the one who drugged him, so it had to be the one with the blue eyes.
"Would have screwed up my plan entirely." There was a pause, and Bobby felt himself being carried to the van. "Well I figured we could just pull up, open the side door and ask if they wanted a ride. I figure ninety percent of the guys and at least seventy percent of the girls would hop in."
He finally lost consciousness to the sound of their laughter.
When he woke up he was in a small room, he had been sat in a metal chair that was bolted to the floor and was looking across a metal table, also bolted to the floor, at a blonde woman with blue eyes. He knew her too, Tara Maclay, the bitch who had made it possible for Faith to awaken the slayer line. She was sitting in front of a large mirror, and Bobby knew there were people watching on the other side.
He was trying to come up with what lie he could try to tell when the blonde smiled gently and started speaking.
"You're name is Robert Young, my name is Tara Maclay. I know you recognize my name. I know you know what that means. I know who you are, and I know what you have done. This is not all some big mistake, and we DO have the right guy."
She then took out a revolver and put it on the table, pushing it towards him, and her smile remained. "The weapon has one bullet. While you COULD try to kill me, my darling Faith is on the other side of that glass along with the other two women who kidnapped you, and between the three of them you would be dead in a most unpleasant manner before the hammer cocked back."
She took a breath and straightened her skirt. "That gun is here for you. So you can avoid all the normal unpleasant means of "persuasion" there are available, as well whatever dire fates that the Marshal would come up with if he ever found out you betrayed him after our methods broke you, and please trust me Mister Young they would break you." She actually looked him in the eye, and when she saw his recognition of the fact he wouldn't withstand torture she nodded sympathetically.
"No, that gun is one of your two ways out of this room."
He put his hand on the gun, and pushed it back to her. Tara smiled, and he started talking.
Several hours later a smiling Tara Maclay walked out of the interrogation room to a fuming Faith, who had several false starts before being able to speak. "I don't know whether to yell at you for taking such a risk, or throw you on top of this table and fuck your brains out for being so damn HOT while doing so."
Tara giggled.
Lex grinned. "If you don't choose B Faith I'll loose all respect for you."
Ziva was grinning. "It was a most effective interrogation technique, but how did you know he wouldn't shoot you?"
Tara smiled. "He survived the fall of Wolfram and Heart LA as well as the Beast's earlier rampage, and those were no small feats. While he may not know the full measure of our abilities here, and with the truth spell I cast on the room I'm certain he doesn't, he's a survivor, and he knew harming me would be fatal."
While Ziva was obviously fond of the blonde witch her expression showed a new level of respect as she saw the woman's steel.
Faith was scowling, but nodding as well. "And a survivor wouldn't be able to shoot themselves either."
Tara smiled. She first caressed Faith's cheek, and then leaned in to kiss the cheek she had just touched. "What I did was give him a physical representation of his ability to resist, and then convinced him to give it back to me."
Faith nodded once. "I'm going with hot." She then picked Tara up over her shoulder and carried the witch from the room.
Both the women turned to follow, with Ziva being the first to speak. "Hey!"
Lex joined in. "You said you'd take her on THIS table." Lex patted the table for emphasis.
Ziva was grinning. "We're waiting."
Lex was smiling wide. "I was going to conjure some popcorn."
Faith left the room with Tara still over her shoulder and the other two women followed them into the hall.
Lex was the first to speak. "So, just so we're clear, watching the sex is a no."
Ziva kept up. "We were really looking forward to it."
As they turned a corner Tara got in her last words. "We'll leave it to your imagination."
Lex exaggerated a pout. "Well I've already imagined it! I wanted to see how it compared!"
Author: Dark Wyldchilde (wyldchilde37@yahoo.com)
Rating:NC-17, this is me, there will be sex, and there will be violence.
Pairing: Faith/Tara, Ziva/Abby
Setting: This is the fourth story in my Lock series.
Summary: Marines are missing, and turning up as vampires. The Lock is seeking out the source, and will do so with some new allies.
Spoilers: This story can and will combine any elements I care to from all of the runs of Buffy and Angel as well as the Stony Man Farm/Executioner books. Now it also includes NCIS to present, but it will also contradict them as necessary, because much to my own delight it's taken on a life of it's own.
I have also decided to tinker with the Buffy/Angel time lines since in the case of Buffy the show has been done almost 7 years now.
Disclaimers: This is an independent, non-profit work of fanfiction. I know there are at least three sets (or more) of copyrights involved, and this story is not a challenge to any of them.
Wyld's Notes: You probably shouldn't be reading this story unless you've read my earlier fics "Life on the Farm" "Declaration of War" and "The Front" because without them this story might get confusing.
On a NCIS note I need to add I am keeping the Ziva/Gibbs cannon that she killed Ari to save Gibbs, and not the more recent nonsense that it was to get Gibbs to trust her.
More importantly I must send out my personal thanks to Lisa Countryman. She has been a wonderful sounding board, and has been essential in making this fic possible, including spoon feeding me the incredibly funny chapter 5, writing three whole chapters herself, and healthy sections of other chapters as well.
I also need to add a special thanks and welcome to my new beta reader laura jones.
Chapter 22.
Robert Young was a survivor. In law school that meant good grades and few friends, but that was ok. Sure he might not have gotten laid as much as his classmates, but he also didn't wind up chasing ambulances, or keeping that 50% divorce rate going.
No, while Bobby might not have been at the head of his class he had kept himself ahead of the mediocre middle of the herd and did well enough to attract the attention of the law firm Wolfram and Heart.
It was there his survival skills REALLY got put to use, sometimes figuratively, as he navigated the waters of office politics, and sometimes literally as he navigated the waters of Wolfram and Heart office politics, and again while Robert didn't truly distinguish himself he survived, and sometimes he wondered if it was that skill Wolfram and Heart had hired him for rather then any knowledge of jurisprudence.
Whatever the reason he managed to be the last man standing for a good ten years, until he was the one of last men standing, not in the literal rubble of the Wolfram and Heart offices, but after the smoke cleared and he found himself a free agent with a Blackberry full of contacts all over this world and stretching across others.
Of course those otherworldly contacts took more then an active cell tower to reach, but the ways to make contact with otherworldly beings were right in his employee handbook and Bobby had them memorized, but he didn't have to go looking to them for opportunities because one of them came to him.
His name was Johnathan Burken, MARHSAL Johnathan Burken a Prussian mercenary he had been turned after his sire had hired Burken's band to attack the manor home of the vampire's greatest rival and burn the place to the ground at high noon. The vampire had been so pleased with their services that he had turned the leader, who in turn turned his men.
They had served their master loyally until a band of slayers had surprised them with a night attack with modern weapons and tactics. It had surprised them utterly and three fourths of their band was lost along with their master.
Marshal Burken was a survivor as well, not only of that night, but of it's aftermath. He hadn't come to Bobby Young swearing vows of vengeance against those who had slain his sire. He saw his sire's death as the ending of his contract, and like any mercenary he started looking for his next one.
Now, not swearing vengeance didn't mean he wasn't going to learn from his last defeat. To the contrary it wasn't just going to be a new contract, but a whole, new, army. The humans were getting smarter, learning their ways while demons refused to learn the humans. It was starting to tip the balance and Marshal Burken was just the one to tip it back, for the right price of course, and Robert Young was the man to make it happen, for the right fee.
Mush to his delight Marshal Burken had no problems with Young wanting a percentage. Marshal Burken was a mercenary, and he wouldn't trust a man who didn't want his fair share, or more if he could get it, and Young could get it.
Marshal Burken and his men were military men, but military men from centuries ago, and not only did they not have any knowledge of the modern world they had no contacts to it.
Young provided the contacts, and that led to the men who had the knowledge of the modern war.
They had started slow, because even in a war zone missing soldiers get noticed, but Young's contacts were able to find them the names of Marines about ready to go home, got patrol schedules so convoys could be ambushed and burned bodies left in the Marines uniforms.
Problems started when the Marshal started "winning" and got a taste for it. He wanted more and more troops, and he wanted them last night, and he wanted supplies, all those wonderful weapons of war, and he wanted them in numbers Young's weapons dealers couldn't provide.
Then one of Young's contacts grew a conscience and tried to slip stateside. While he managed to get stateside the Marshal himself took care of the boy, which was good, and then turned him, which led to the loss of their military base stateside and their turning camp in Afghanistan.
Now Young's survivor instincts were screaming at him about the white van with no side windows and deeply tinted front windows. The fact that everywhere he went it turned up was too much of a coincidence in the first place. The fact that it was there as all their plans were starting to fall apart didn't require his delicately tuned survivor's instincts to tell him his fear was justified.
Young finally had it and turned and jogged down an alley, he cut over one, jogged up two more, and then doubled back. Or at least he tried to double back, in front of him the white van pulled across Bobby's planned exit, and he realized he had played right into their hands by leaving the busy streets.
He tried to turn back the way he came and found two women waiting for him. Both with black hair, one had brown eyes, tan skin and a windows peak, while the other had fairer skin and blue eyes. Turning back to the van he saw her, he recognized her right away from when she visited the LA offices of Wolfram and Heart back when that turncoat former vampire was in charge, but everyone knew Faith as the bitch who had awoken the Slayer line.
His anger quickly turned to fear as Faith smiled a wide, dimpled smile at him. He turned back to the other two women and found that the one with the widow's peak had gotten right behind him and had a cloth in hand she pressed to his face.
The smell of some sort of drug quickly overwhelmed his senses, and as his legs gave out he thought he heard Faith speak.
"See, sometimes it's good to be a girl with a reputation."
Another spoke, it wasn't the one who drugged him, so it had to be the one with the blue eyes.
"Would have screwed up my plan entirely." There was a pause, and Bobby felt himself being carried to the van. "Well I figured we could just pull up, open the side door and ask if they wanted a ride. I figure ninety percent of the guys and at least seventy percent of the girls would hop in."
He finally lost consciousness to the sound of their laughter.
When he woke up he was in a small room, he had been sat in a metal chair that was bolted to the floor and was looking across a metal table, also bolted to the floor, at a blonde woman with blue eyes. He knew her too, Tara Maclay, the bitch who had made it possible for Faith to awaken the slayer line. She was sitting in front of a large mirror, and Bobby knew there were people watching on the other side.
He was trying to come up with what lie he could try to tell when the blonde smiled gently and started speaking.
"You're name is Robert Young, my name is Tara Maclay. I know you recognize my name. I know you know what that means. I know who you are, and I know what you have done. This is not all some big mistake, and we DO have the right guy."
She then took out a revolver and put it on the table, pushing it towards him, and her smile remained. "The weapon has one bullet. While you COULD try to kill me, my darling Faith is on the other side of that glass along with the other two women who kidnapped you, and between the three of them you would be dead in a most unpleasant manner before the hammer cocked back."
She took a breath and straightened her skirt. "That gun is here for you. So you can avoid all the normal unpleasant means of "persuasion" there are available, as well whatever dire fates that the Marshal would come up with if he ever found out you betrayed him after our methods broke you, and please trust me Mister Young they would break you." She actually looked him in the eye, and when she saw his recognition of the fact he wouldn't withstand torture she nodded sympathetically.
"No, that gun is one of your two ways out of this room."
He put his hand on the gun, and pushed it back to her. Tara smiled, and he started talking.
Several hours later a smiling Tara Maclay walked out of the interrogation room to a fuming Faith, who had several false starts before being able to speak. "I don't know whether to yell at you for taking such a risk, or throw you on top of this table and fuck your brains out for being so damn HOT while doing so."
Tara giggled.
Lex grinned. "If you don't choose B Faith I'll loose all respect for you."
Ziva was grinning. "It was a most effective interrogation technique, but how did you know he wouldn't shoot you?"
Tara smiled. "He survived the fall of Wolfram and Heart LA as well as the Beast's earlier rampage, and those were no small feats. While he may not know the full measure of our abilities here, and with the truth spell I cast on the room I'm certain he doesn't, he's a survivor, and he knew harming me would be fatal."
While Ziva was obviously fond of the blonde witch her expression showed a new level of respect as she saw the woman's steel.
Faith was scowling, but nodding as well. "And a survivor wouldn't be able to shoot themselves either."
Tara smiled. She first caressed Faith's cheek, and then leaned in to kiss the cheek she had just touched. "What I did was give him a physical representation of his ability to resist, and then convinced him to give it back to me."
Faith nodded once. "I'm going with hot." She then picked Tara up over her shoulder and carried the witch from the room.
Both the women turned to follow, with Ziva being the first to speak. "Hey!"
Lex joined in. "You said you'd take her on THIS table." Lex patted the table for emphasis.
Ziva was grinning. "We're waiting."
Lex was smiling wide. "I was going to conjure some popcorn."
Faith left the room with Tara still over her shoulder and the other two women followed them into the hall.
Lex was the first to speak. "So, just so we're clear, watching the sex is a no."
Ziva kept up. "We were really looking forward to it."
As they turned a corner Tara got in her last words. "We'll leave it to your imagination."
Lex exaggerated a pout. "Well I've already imagined it! I wanted to see how it compared!"