A Boy and His Dog.

[Datatroll]

(Author's Notes at the end might be worth a look even if you are the type that usually doesn't bother. It lays out a bit of backstory that I can't be bothered to waste three chapters writing as it is all near canon anyway, just tweaked a bit.)

Chapter 1.
Meet Missy.

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"Good lord you are getting big, Missy."
Xander is smiling and sitting on the end of the bed, scratching behind the ears of his dog. The dog is just enjoying the attention, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth and a big happy doggy grin bearing what are admittedly some very scary-looking teeth. He's still astonished at the sheer size of the animal, and even more that it has shown no sign of slowing down its growth. But he figures the dog can't get too much bigger. It is already able to lick his face when it jumps and puts its paws on his shoulders, and is strong enough that going for walks is only possible because for all her power she is the most obedient animal he's ever even heard of.

Xander stands, and grabbing his wallet off the dresser he turns back to the animal. "I have to go to work, now you be good!"

Then with a final bit of head-scratching, the newly-minted graduate of the hole in the ground that used to be Hell-High walks out and locks the door. Waving at the landlord as he jogs the five blocks to the club, he puts the animal out of his mind and tries to come up with a reason that he can't work on stage. One that can't be checked. His boss is a wonderful woman that he loves dearly and has treated him like a somewhat pervy son since his first week here, but she told him last shift that if he tried to use the embarrassing rash excuse again she was going to take him in the back and make him strip.

After Xander had gone it took Missy about four seconds to miss him terribly. Another four to get so bored that the only possible outcome was to chew on the pillow until it submitted and then fall asleep on the bed.

Seven hours later and approaching one in the morning, Xander is pouring drinks for the last call rush when there is a disturbance at the front doors. He doesn't think much of it as he cranks out a few more quick beers, but when the shot rings out and the club goes silent, it is safe to say that his attention has been thoroughly grabbed. Two men. Long coats, shotguns, ski masks. He idly wonders just how hot it must be behind those masks, as the AC in the building is not the best and the strip joint that caters to the ladies is absolutely packed tonight. The two men walk towards the bar, a bit of a swagger in their step. At this point, Suzie, the manager that was always kind to him is just about to step up and try to deal with whatever this is. When Xander sees this he pushes her behind him as he steps forward, pastes on the nicest smile he can, and says "You gentleman look like you could use a drink. What'll it be, on the house!"

The two men look at each other for a second, then they both laugh. One turns to keep an eye on the crowd, while the other pokes Xander in the gut with the shotgun, then tosses a bag onto the counter.

"Fill the bag with cash, funny man. All of it."

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Back at his craptastic apartment, Missy's dreams are taking a turn for the surreal. Instead of chasing cats made out of sausage, she is staring at a man in a mask. In a dark, loud place with funny lights and smoke. The man is threatening her. Or Mommy. Or both. Being a puppy, and this being a new thing she really isn't quite sure exactly what is going on. But she knows by what she can feel that the man in front of him is dangerous, and he is not Pack. She needs to run or fight, but she can't. There is a barrier. Some kind of barrier that is stopping her from doing anything.

The man with the gun seems upset that she hasn't done anything, but she isn't sure what to do. She sees a bag and an open thingie that has green and metal in it. But none of it is food and the baggie doesn't even smell good, so she has no idea what the man could want.

The man pushes her... No. He pushes Mommy. She is Mommy? No... She is seeing through Mommy? It's all very confusing.

He Pushes Mommy to the side. Grabs the woman that Mommy likes. The boss. Which based on Mommy's feelings when Mommy says it seems to be his word for the matriarch. The small woman cries out in pain as the gun is shoved against her throat and the man screams at her.

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The barriers fall. The two people who happened to be looking his way when this happens see a manic, feral grin break out over his face as he steps forward. The man with the gun starts to swing the gun in his direction, but Xander grabs the barrel and forces it up with his right hand while nailing him in the jaw with his left. The crack of the jawbone breaking is loud enough to be heard over the frightened murmurs, the sound system having been turned off. Vaulting over the counter, Xander makes a quick two steps to the second man at seemingly impossible speeds as the man is turning around, forcing the barrel of the second shotgun up even as he punches this one in the gut hard enough to knock him back eight feet. Where he is knocked out by banging his head into a table. Looking back to the first one, and seeing that he is trying to stand, Xander grabs the back of his head and slams it into the counter hard enough to leave a dent in the brass rail.

Seeing that the guy is now out cold, he turns to Suzie, and his feral smile fades into a look of concern. He shakes his head twice as if to clear it. "Suzie, are you OK?"

The entire place is as quiet as a tomb for a few seconds, then somebody starts clapping. Soon the entire place is clapping and offering thanks, surrounding him and offering goodwill by the truckload. Finally, Suzie laughs as she reaches for the phone to call the authorities. "I am fine thanks to you. Where the hell did you learn to do that?"

Xander smiles. "When you live in Sunnydale, you get that good just dealing with the sewer rats. Trust me. Umm... Should we shut down for the night do you think?"

She nods. "Probably a good idea. Make sure the bouncers know to get contact information from anybody willing. I want the cops to be able to find lots of witnesses just in case these two clowns try to cause you trouble through the courts."

Giving her a quick nod he turns away and runs to the front to talk to the bouncers.

After giving a statement down at the station when the cops finally arrive and pick him up he makes the run down to his apartment in the early morning with a detective's card in his wallet in case he remembers anything else. He also has been given a directive not to leave town for a few days, or let the police know where he was going if leaving was unavoidable. It isn't until he is closing the door of the apartment and Missy jumps up to make her attempt to lick his face off that he really remembers the last time he felt like he did when he was taking out those two thugs.

When he does, he pales and sits on the bed while Missy curls up next to him with her head on the bed for scratching.

It was like a possession. It was just like the Primal Hyena possession from high school. And the moves, controlling the guns, knowing where and how to punch, that was all the Halloween soldier memories flooding back. But unlike before, he had control. He had control, and it was temporary. But the soldier memories were never that good, not even the day after that Halloween. And the only Hyena-like thing in his life right now is Miss Missy. Who is now licking his hand in her efforts to remind him that scratching time is not yet over. Whatever it is, it allowed him to stop those thugs, it didn't make him hurt anybody innocent, and it faded as soon as it was no longer needed.

Maybe he wouldn't call Giles just yet. There was no reason for everybody to know how big a failure his road trip has been if this is just a one-of-a-kind deal.

Looking at Missy again, he mutters under his breath. "Just what kind of dog are you anyway?" Xander's never had a dog. Xander's never even known anybody that kept a dog for long. Sunnydale is just a little too lethal for animals that can get out, and animals that don't get out, you don't get to meet.

Still thinking about things, he strips down to his shorts and lays down on the bed after giving a very grateful Missy a chance to do her business outside and refilling her food and water dish. The vaguely disgruntled sigh he lets out when he lays his head into a moist bath of dog slobber causes her to lick his hand again and whine in apology.

It isn't until almost a week later that he learns any more about it. With his new local celebrity status, Suzie just laughs at him when he tries to get out of going on stage, saying "You have been the most requested dancer for the last three days, I hope you do have a rash. They'll probably tip you extra for a chance to lick it." So he is making really good tips. But five days after the incident when he finally gets a day off and is asleep, his dreams go all weird.

He is shorter. He is hairy as all get out. He appears to be lacking thumbs. Despite the darkness, he can see everything and hear even more. He is... Missy, he realizes with a start. Then he hears a voice. A tiny little voice in the back of his mind. Very faint, yet very insistent.

"Mommy Mommy! Badmans at the door that smell like Matriarch's home! They try to get in, what do I do?"

Along with these words he receives flashes of insight. First, he is Mommy. Since the Hyena that possessed him was a female that makes sense, but being called that is less than wonderful. Second, "Badman" is just her word for anybody she doesn't like, but based on the smells which include body odor, she thinks these are related to the men with the 'bang sticks' at the club five days ago. Lastly, she isn't particularly scared of the "Badman."

She is mostly worried that she will somehow disappoint him.

Because more than anything else in the world, the one that provides food, water, head scratchings, and is Mommy, is to be loved and cared for.

He turns and can see himself on the bed, out cold.

He can hear somebody trying to jimmy the lock on the door.

He growls. Not the whiny grrr sound of a house pet upset at the mailman, but rather the rolling sound of an African predator that has just discovered that something lower on the food chain has just tried to steal a meal. There is a sharp intake of breath from outside, then the two run away, and it was two. He knows because he can hear their steps through the door and walls until they are many blocks away.

He feels himself receding slowly from her mind as her panic level drops, and Missy crawls back up on the bed and lays down next to him. He knows he is no longer in control of her when he awakens to the feel of her tongue caressing his cheek.

The next day when Xander wakes up fully and they go for their daily run, he can hear dimly the excitement in her mind as they move down the sidewalk at speed. Excitement, yet disappointment because Mommy is so slow. Between the two of them and some experimentation, they discover a few more things over the next week. First, she can lend him heightened senses, strength, and speed without taking over and without the need for either to be sleeping. It doesn't cost her any of her own strength or speed to do so, aside from tiring them both out somewhat faster. As they are both in very good shape, that is less of a concern than it might be.

Additionally, he can lend her a degree of wisdom not generally seen in animals. Not intelligence, though he is coming to realize that she is far more intelligent than any three or four-month-old puppy has any right to be, but a certain understanding of wisdom. She doesn't know, for example, that finding an open package of hamburger laying around when she is pooping in the morning is probably bad for her. But after an inquisitive yip, she can understand through Xander's gift of wisdom when he concentrates on her that food that seems too easy can be a trap, and treat it with suspicion until Mommy looks at it.

She can with his help quickly and easily decide who in a room is good, who is bad, who is scenery, and who needs to be kept an eye on. Sadly, trying to do this causes him a fairly serious headache in short order. So it tends to get used in short bursts as an answer to an inquiry, rather than always running. As for the sleeping trick, not only can they communicate easily when one of them is sleeping, but the negative effects of their assisting each other don't apply when they are asleep, and the range seems to go for miles.

Oddly, they don't seem to be able to both sleep at the same time. Which is less of a hassle than it might be, as neither seems to need more than a few hours of sleep at a time and it seems that anything more than five hours of sleep a day is something of a waste.

Of course, by the time they are both heading back into Sunnydale his 'puppy' is nearly fully grown and a gargantuan two hundred and fifty pounds of hyper strong and fast mobile bone-crushing jaws with legs.

He honestly isn't sure what the gang is going to think. But he can't get rid of her, it would be like taking off his own arm, and he can't hide her. Sunnydale isn't that big, and she is. Word will get out, whether he wants it to or not. He'll admit to being a little worried about what he is driving into as he passes the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign. On the other hand, he thinks with a grin, taking his dog on a midnight stroll now and again doesn't hold the same terror for him that it once might have.

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Author's note:
Yet another of my stories that desperately needs a very serious edit. Figure I'll repost here as I go.
This takes place just after graduation. It is based on a couple of fairly broad assumptions, one bit of AU, and one cheesy as hell movie from the early nineties called 'Man's Best Friend' In which a genetically modified dog goes on a bit of a rampage.
The AU is that the Hell Hounds that Tucker Wells summons are much more like the ones in the BtVS video game, or even the ones imagined in the 'Wild hunt' mythology. As in, they look much more like an actual hound or wolf. Demonic ones, but canine facsimiles of one sort or another nonetheless, though still demonic and therefore with a lot of leeway in producing half-breeds.

Then the first assumption is that a couple of months before prom one of these hounds gets loose and has its way with a local dog. At the end of 'Man's Best Friend' when they have finally dealt with Max, (the name of the canine in the movie) the last scene is of a puppy growling that has the same markings as Max. My story is based on that puppy having grown and then had a wonderful evening of sin with a Hellhound that was based on a demonic Hyena form. (Yes, I know that Hyenas are not canines. It is a magic animal. Leave it alone.)

I imagine you can see where I am going with this, so rather than insult your intelligence and waste your time I will just say that Xander ends up with the puppy at a couple of months old when he finds it in his car after filling the tank with gas on his way out of town for the road trip. With no tags, he assumes that somebody saw the open window and was hoping for the animal to have a better life than being put down by the vet, and decides to take it with him on his tour of America.

The animal itself when he found it was about 30 pounds and obviously still a puppy, with the build of a shaggy mix of a Rottweiler and a Hyena and has in no way grown into its paws or jaws. Its coat is a dirty tan with black spots. Despite some misgivings, Xander easily falls in love with the playful creature, though he notices quite quickly that the puppy seems to be growing at an astonishing rate. We pick up the story (more like a beginning explanation) in mid-July when Xander has been stuck in Oxnard for half the summer working at a strip club and trying to save enough to get his ramshackle car fixed. Between working full time, (sometimes on stage) running with the puppy to keep them both from going stir crazy in his tiny by the week apartment, and wrestling around with the now two hundred and fifty pound animal that seems unbelievably strong for its size, the X-man is in the best physical condition of his life.

This is more of an information dump than a chapter. I know it and apologize for it. But I wanted to layout a lot of things quickly so I could get to more interesting stuff to write.

Oh, and yeah. I don't own any of this. I know it. You know it. You know that I know it, I know that you know it, and I shan't make a dime off of these efforts. Not that it would matter if I was sued. Blood from turnips. So if Joss Whedon of BtVS fame or New line Cinema who I believe own the rights to 'Man's Best Friend' wish to make my life miserable, I truly do wish them the best of luck. Anyway, on with the show.

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 2
Yeah... So That Sucks.

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Missy likes the car ride. Car rides are fun, she decides. But she doesn't remember having gone on a ride like this since forever. Mommy usually doesn't go very far. Not since Missy found Mommy and sneaked into the car while Mommy was at the smelly twinkie place getting food for it from the stinky hose. Then there was a long ride, and a confusing bit where Mommy was really mad, so mad that Mommy kicked the car because it stopped moving when Mommy wanted it to go, and then Mommy hopped in place because Mommy kicked it so hard that Mommy hurt Mommy's foot.

Knowing that Mommy is possibly the coolest and most powerful being in the whole of everything, she once again whines a bit in sympathy for the poor car. That one bit of rebellion had Mommy 'get a wrecker' which came and was loud and then used a hooky bit to haul the poor thing into town.

Where Mommy then left the car sitting out in the hot hot sun in a place where mean but apparently not badmans trained cars how to properly serve the pack using really loud metal things that sometimes puffed foul-smelling air. The whole thing was kind of terrible. But, the car should have done what it was told. And Mommy must have felt at least a little bad, because Mommy had the mean but not badmans put extra stuff in the front by the big hand wheel and Mommy played with it while Mommy drove.

It made sounds come out of the car that Mommy would sometimes sing along with when Mommy was riding the car. Missy sang sometimes too. Mommy likes it when Missy sings.

Mommy thinks Missy has a beautiful voice. So she sings to Mommy all the chances that she gets.

The thought makes her wish there was music now. But there is not. Mommy turned the music off a few minutes ago when they reached the place that she was when she was smaller. Missy doesn't really like this place very much. She doesn't really care, she guesses, but she knows that as soon as they got close to it Mommy started to get bothered. Nervous.

Maybe it is just because it is after dark. Mommy doesn't really like to be out after dark very much if it can be helped. The car stops, and Mommy gets out but asks Missy to stay in the car for a minute. Missy is Okay with that. Mommy walks up to the house and uses the clangy metal thing that hangs by the car wheel on the door, but it doesn't work. Missy can feel Mommy getting mad.

Missy doesn't like it when Mommy is mad. Mommy doesn't like being mad either, but sometimes mad just happens. There doesn't seem to be a way to stop it all the time, even with the best licks ever.

Missy thinks about getting out of the car, but Mommy said stay, so she stays. Mommy starts beating on the door. The light in the front of the house turns on and somebody opens the door. The two talk, and at first there is confusion. Then after a bit, there is sadness and resignation. Missy doesn't quite understand everything, but she gets that Mommy's Mommy and Mommy's Daddy don't live here anymore.

The two talk for a few more minutes, then Mommy comes back to the car and sits next to Missy.

Mommy is crying, and Missy doesn't know what to do. She whines. She licks Mommy's face. Mommy gives her the extra special ear scratchings, but the sadness doesn't go away. Mommy puts the metal bits back into the car and the car starts making the noises it does when it is going to move. Then the two ride to a new location. At this one, there is a light already on upstairs. The grass is cut and weeded. The area seems less icky than the last place they were. More cared for. Mommy asks Missy to stay in the car again, then walks up to the house and rings the bell. Missy hopes Mommy gets better news this time.

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Xander considers as he walks up the steps. His parents being missing didn't necessarily mean that they were dead. Missing is relative. Lots of people probably go missing from houses where the front door was knocked off the hinges and the police found a trashed interior and lots of blood but no bodies and they are just fine.

Yeah. Anywhere in the world but here, maybe.

Xander tries to get the tears under control with mixed results as he rings the bell. He really hopes they'll go for it, at least for a while. Otherwise, he isn't sure what he is going to do.

The door opens and Joyce Summers answers the door. Mother to the Slayer. The closest thing he ever had to a mother too and isn't that the saddest thought he'd had for a few months.

"Xander! Buffy and Willow were wondering when you were going to get back into town. They were half hoping you would be here to help them move a couple of weeks ago. The term already started, you know." She notices his tear-streaked face and her look grows concerned. "Xander, what's wrong?"

By way of answer, Xander leans forward through the doorway and wraps his arms around her in a hug as the tears start falling again. After a minute, he responds. "Just got back into town. Tried to go home. It isn't my home anymore. I guess there was a break-in or something just after I left. Lots of damage. Lots of blood. No bodies, but the police declared them dead anyway and nobody has seen them since. The new owners picked it up after it was foreclosed on last month. Knowing my parents they were probably already behind on payments. I have some money, but not a lot. I was hoping maybe I could stay for a few weeks while I find out from family what's going on. Find a job. Get a place. That kind of thing."

He breaks the hug and sees Dawn, Buffy's little sister looking at him from the stairs. Then he slumps, looking at Joyce as her face goes from concerned to maternal. "If it's a problem, I can probably find a place at a pay-by-the-week type of hotel for a while. It probably won't be easy, I have a dog now. But I figure I can manage if I have to. But I thought I would ask. I can pay and stuff."

Joyce shakes her head. "Don't talk nonsense, of course you can stay. Just make sure you clean up after your dog." She pauses, looking around outside the door as though the poor animal must be hiding around Xander's legs. "What kind of dog is it?"

Xander has the good grace to look slightly guilty as he responds. "Not sure what kind but she is the sweetest dog you will ever meet. Very well behaved. Always does what I tell her. Want to meet her?"

Joyce smiles, the thought that given what she knows of Xander it was probably a terrier of some kind. Something scrappy and loyal, just like him. "Sure thing, Xander. Where is she?"

He can see that Dawn is coming up behind her mother. Sadness at his situation warring with excitement at seeing Xander's new dog, which she imagines to be a puppy that is still tripping over its own feet, sporting ears so long they trip it when it tries to run. He turns and softly says, "C'mon girl. It's time to meet the family." In his mind, he sends her a message.

"The older one is Joyce. Matriarch. Very special. The other is her daughter and our friend, Dawn. Also special. They are Pack. They are part of our Pack. We will protect them. Always."

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Missy is excited. Mommy had talked about the Pack while one or the other was asleep. About Mommy's Pack. About the Joy Mother and the Dawn Patrol and the Red Tree and the Buffy Slayer. About the Ozwolf and the Cordy and the G-Man. He said that they were Pack, that they defended each other and their territory from the Badmans. Missy leaps out of the car, the shock absorbers screaming in agony as she does so. She runs to the door and the Joy Mother pushes the Dawn Patrol Behind her, Looking at Mommy in hurt confusion. Missy stops.

She stands next to Xander for a few seconds while Joyce looks like she is trying to decide whether to scream or slam the door. Or both. Missy starts to worry.

Maybe they won't like Missy? Maybe Missy isn't good enough to be in the Pack? Maybe the Joy Mother is wise, and knows that Mommy isn't a real Mommy and Missy is just a lost puppy? Maybe she is found out?

As the awkward silence drags on, Missy sinks lower and lower to the porch. Finally, when her nose is millimeters from the concrete and she has started to whine, Hoping that Mommy will see her distress, she feels a hand patting her head. But it isn't Mommy's hand. Mommy's hand is quite big, and this hand is very small. Missy looks up and sees the Dawn Patrol has come out from behind her Mommy and is offering a gentle head-scratching. Missy looks up and sniffs the hand. Allows the scent to be categorized. Burned forever into her mind as Dawn Patrol. Pack. To Be Protected. Even if she is not to be loved, she will still be loyal. That is Pack.

She offers a tentative lick to the hand that is petting her. Then she raises her head and offers a sneaky lick to the face of the one petting her. The Dawn Patrol giggles. The Joy Mother looks still concerned, but not like she was when she first saw Missy. Missy licks the Dawn Patrol again and gets a hug in return. Mommy gives her ear scratches while he talks to the Joy Mother. After a few minutes, Mommy goes to the car and opens the butt to get his clothes, and they both go into the home.

An hour later, after all the small talk and Dawn has been sent to bed as it is a school night, Xander sits in the recliner with a hand draped over the side, gently patting Missy. Joyce is perched on the edge of the couch, and after all other subjects have been exhausted, she comes back to the dog.

"Xander, You're right. She is the most well-behaved animal I have ever seen. I am not saying you have to leave with her. I kind of like her. But I am not quite as ignorant as I was a couple of years ago. What is she? Because there is no possible way that that beast, loveable though she may be, is a dog. It looks like what you would get if you crossed a hyena with a mastiff and then doubled the size of the result. Dogs don't come in that shape. It is unbelievably rare to see them come in that size."

Xander puffs out his breath, his bangs lifting slightly in the sudden movement. "I honestly don't know. I think when I was leaving town, somebody dumped her into my car when I was filling up on my way out. She sat in the backseat so quiet I didn't even know she was there for a good forty-five minutes. No tags or anything. But she was an actual puppy then. Maybe twenty pounds worth of cute as a button puppy. That was about three months ago. Her growth finally slowed down last week. That was the other reason I was late getting back. I didn't want to bring her back just to expose Dogzilla to the Hellmouth if she kept growing. But honestly, that is just the tip of the iceberg in the weird department here. I am probably going to have to talk to Giles tomorrow. Kinda not looking forward to that."

"What do you mean? It's not a vampire dog, is it?" Joyce asks, paling slightly at the idea.

Xander almost smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "No, nothing like that. How much do you know about Buffy's first year here?"

Joyce frowns. "Not as much as I would like. We have tried to talk about things a few times but we always get sidetracked into a rather unpleasant conversation about her boyfriend at the time. So I have a broad picture, but am missing a lot of details."

Xander leans forward and pinches his nose. "Yeah, I would be kind of surprised if she had mentioned this anyway. It is old news, not particularly pleasant, and frankly, if it weren't for Missy here making it relevant again I could have spent my whole life never thinking about it and died a happy man. The bare-bones is that I, well, myself and four other kids, got possessed by some Hyenas at the Sunnydale zoo. One of the keepers was planning a ritual or something and we walked into the middle of it like idiots."

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. How the hell do you tell the mother of one of your best friends that you got possessed and tried to do... That. To her daughter?

He decides that the answer is that you don't.

"Well, some fairly bad things happened, some of which involved Buffy, and no, I won't tell you that part. If she wants to she can but I hate myself enough for it already, I don't need you to hate me too. But the important thing is that I was the Alpha of the Pack. I got possessed by the Matriarch of that particular pack of Hyenas. Giles got rid of the possession, for the most part. I mean, I still like my steaks a little rarer, my reflexes are maybe the tiniest bit faster. I might hear things just the teensiest bit quicker than most but nothing big. Until now."

He drops his hand back down to Missy for scratches, as she is beginning to whine a little bit. She doesn't really understand what is being said, not without help, but she is getting the distinct impression that it relates to her and is not Mommy bragging about her singing voice.

Joyce is looking concerned, but not scared. Now that she has been around the animal for a while it really is hard to imagine it hurting herself or Dawn. It seems to be trying so hard to fit in and be accepted. That thought makes her eyes widen. "Your dog is more intelligent than normal, isn't she?"

Xander nods. "That is part of it. We are also kind of joined at the soul a little I think. I really don't want to get too far into that until I can talk to Giles, because while I have some theories, I have no idea what I am even talking about. So... Yeah. My theories are probably about six shades of worthless."

Joyce considers that. "Maybe, but you have been dealing with things like this for years and it is happening to you. Chances are pretty good that among the people that wear the white hats, you are probably one of the top fifty or so on the subject here in the states. Given your history and personal knowledge of the subject matter, if this was at my art gallery I would credit you as being an expert for purposes of authentication, why shouldn't you qualify for this?"

Xander considers that. "Okay, if you wanna hear my crackpot theory I will give it to you. But seriously, assume I am wrong until I talk to Giles, alright?"

She nods, and he collects his thoughts for a moment. "Well, Some of the things that we can do through this bond are pretty amazing. She can lend me strength and speed, better senses. Not sure if it is up to slayer levels, but I am not particularly concerned about an average fledgling getting the drop on me anymore. We can also speak in each other's heads a bit."

He smiles. "That's why she was so worried at the door. I talk to her about all you guys a lot. She was pretty desperate to get some love from my Pack, as she sees it. I think what happened is that she is some kind of supernatural Hyena something or other. Maybe a crossbreed or something, we have run into demon half breed things before in research and stuff. Anyway, when Giles got rid of the Hyena possession, I was rocking a pretty serious headache off and on for a few weeks. When I asked Giles about it, he said not to worry. That it was a natural process of the soul and psyche recovering from such an invasion."

He makes a special effort to pet Missy with extra love as he continues. "I think what happened is that the possession left a scar. A Hyena shaped scar on my soul. And this clever little girl was able to sense it and take advantage a little bit as a lost puppy looking for her Mommy."

Joyce cracks a bit of a smile. Taken the wrong way, it is true that this is all pretty horrifying. But seeing the two there, so completely at peace with each other, if not their situation... It is hard to be worried about it. "So where before there was a possession, this is more like some kind of umbilical cord for the soul between the two of you?"

He nods. "Yeah, that's my theory. We seem to share strength in a lot of ways. Neither of us seems to need more than a few hours of sleep a day, and we can get it in short little chunks of an hour here or there and be fine. For some reason we can't seem to both sleep at the same time, but seriously living on the Hellmouth I am gonna call that a feature, not a bug. I think she understands that I am not really her biological mother. What with being a boy and all. But she still calls me that. I don't mind too much, but if you could never tell Buffy that particular bit I would be forever grateful."

Joyce laughs. Yeah, she can easily see where Willow and Buffy would go with that tidbit.

"For tonight, go ahead and sleep in Buffy's room. We can set you up something in the basement tomorrow. And Xander?"

"Yes, Mrs. S?"

"If you need a hand sorting out this business with your folks disappearance, let me know. I would imagine that it will be hard, and I can be there for you if you need me."

Xander flashes a smile that just barely reaches his eyes, but it does make it. "Thanks, Mrs S. I will probably take you up on that."

>>>>

The next Morning Joyce and Dawn awaken to the sound of sizzling bacon and eggs getting flipped over. Joyce walks into the room just in time to see Xander slip Missy a piece of bacon, and they both freeze. Xander expects to get a speech about feeding the dog people food, and Missy is scared the Matriarch will be upset that she ate before the Joy Mother did.

Dawn jumping down the last four steps and swinging by the stove with a plate to dish up manages to distract from the awkwardness of the moment, and Missy flips the bacon hanging half out of her mouth into a quick snap of her jaws. Finishing her treat and hoping that her indiscretion was somehow missed.

Xander turns his eyes to Dawn, who apparently missed that Xander already slipped Missy a piece of bacon and is trying to sneak one to her under the table where her mom won't see. "Hey Dawn, I need to go see Giles today. If you like I will drop you off at school on the way."

Dawn thinks about that for a minute. Then she glances out the front window to see that the car they had thought he left on the road trip with has seemingly been replaced. The new one is the same red color. But new paint, new chrome, a fully restored classic American big mobile rather than the garbage they thought he had when he left. It is possibly the most beautiful vehicle she has ever seen. She smiles. "Sure. Where did you get that?" She nods out the window, still looking at the car in delight.

"My uncle loaned it to me for my trip. Said it needed one more good run in the sun before he scrapped it for parts, and it would give me some style to see the country with."

He snickers. "It broke down in Oxnard. Called him for help and he said he could either tow the car and me home, or he could give me the car outright and see what I could do if I put some money into it. I took him up on the offer, since it was open ended. If I couldn't get it running he was willing to sit on the money for the tow when I gave up."

Joyce looks out the window to see it in the sun. Gives a low whistle. "Beautiful car, Xander. Is that a convertible Ford Galaxie?"

"Yeah. Let me tell ya, getting the upholstery redone in that thing was not of the cheap. The backseat alone set me back like a grand." He pales a little as Joyce look at him. "Not that getting the backseat redone was a huge priority or anything. Just wanted to do it, umm.. right. You know. This time."

Joyce raises an eyebrow and Xander cringes slightly.

"Shutting up now."

Joyce laughs at his obvious discomfort. "Well, it is gorgeous, anyway. What did the restoration cost?"

Xander stops. "Umm, around twenty grand. Give or take. Probably would have been less, but I had the work all professionally done. As opposed to Xanderly done, which would have been horrifying. Good thing a lot of it I already had, saved for what was supposed to be my trip."

Joyce looks astonished. "Where did you get the rest? I know you couldn't have had more than a couple of thousand dollars when you left."

Xander looks highly uncomfortable. Looks at Dawn. Looks back at Joyce. "Umm... Tips, mostly. I got good tips."

Joyce once again raises her perfect eyebrow. "I don't think so. Twenty grand in a couple of months? Supermodels would have a hard time making that in five star restaurants in Beverly Hills. What did you really do? Wasn't anything Illegal was it?"

Xander rolls his eyes. His life would be so much easier if people would just believe him, you know. Once in a while. Moving so he is standing between Joyce and Dawn, he pulls up the front of his shirt so his chiseled six-pack is visible, and then does that rolling thing with his stomach that the other dancers showed him that makes the women give him more money. Then he lets go of his shirt. Joyce is turning a deep red even as her smile widens to almost dangerous levels. Xander turns back to the stove. "And we will never speak of this again."

Joyce is barely able to contain herself as she nods and walks towards the door.

Dawn seems highly annoyed. "So, what was it? A tattoo? Is he wearing an advertisement for cheesy poofs on his gut now or something? Do people tip for that?"

Joyce breaks into uncontrollable chortle as she walks out the door to go to work.

>>>>

Author's Note.
It's come up before that 'exotic dancers' don't make that kind of money.
My response then was that generally speaking, they aren't local heroes that had put down an armed robbery on a busy Saturday night. I have to believe that would have an impact on tips for a while.

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 3
Touching Base.

>>>>

The phone buzzes in the downtown L.A. Office of Lindsey McDonald, Attorney at law with Wolfram & Hart. This doesn't surprise him. He is an up-and-comer. Hell, give him a few more years and he'll run this building.

Assuming, of course, that nobody finds out where the bodies are buried. Mostly metaphorical ones.

Mostly.

Picking up the phone he answers it crisply, quickly. Setting the tone for the conversation. He answers phones to peons like Catholics had sex a few hundred years ago. Quickly, cleanly, and only for the purpose of advancing his race to the top.

"McDonald."

"Heya, Mr. McDonald. This is Piers, down in surveillance. You wanted to know when we got a hit on that EMAX fiasco. Those Geneticists?"

McDonald has to think a minute. "Oh yeah, right. That ridiculous animal rights violation that they were still trying to beat when they decided to ask us for help collecting all of their wayward specimens."

"Yeah, see, there is a problem though. The hit we got is on the Hellmouth. We can't do anything in Sunnydale beyond look. Especially now. Our operatives were apparently not aware of all the bylaws in our agreement with the old mayor and didn't realize that there were clauses that extended the protection of the town past the 'demise, displacement, or disfigurement' of the guy. So when they had a lead through some gas station security camera they went in pretty hard. I honestly don't think they intended to kill anybody, but they did, and what's worse they didn't do their homework and snuffed the parents of one of the current slayer's BFFs. The firm is already in the hole ten mil' to be paid to the coffers of Sunny D for the violation, and I figured you wouldn't be interested in making it worse. What do you want us to do?"

Sticky. Very Sticky. "Yes. Not a good place for us to be. What was the hit?"

McDonald rolls his eyes as he hears the tell-tale rubbing of cloth that would indicate that the moron is nodding. On a phone.

"The kid they were looking for came back. Tried to get into his parent's old place, but it had been foreclosed and sold by the bank when he was gone. We've got cameras on the place so we were able to get a few decent quality stills of him and the car. The interesting thing is what is hanging out in the passenger seat. We only have a few seconds of footage and it is not the best quality, because the car is moving by that point. But take a look. I am sending the video to you in an E-Mail."

The line is silent for a few minutes while the download takes place. Then there is a six-second video of an enormous dog of some kind going from what must have been a prone to sitting position.

Nothing in the EMAX data they received would allow for an animal like this to be part of it. The thing is enormous.

"Once you have seen it standard, check out the second video. Since this was on the Hellmouth we used the MGC V cams, and boy howdy did we find something interesting."

McDonald frowns. These geneticists were not even aware of the supernatural. What could they possibly... His eyebrows rise as he finishes the last keystroke and the video changes. As always on the Hellmouth, there is some added interference that makes detailed analysis difficult. But the auras that surround the dog and that boy are impressive. At least five inches all around them, and it boils constantly with primal and chaos currents. There is power there. Lots of power.

McDonald is a big fan of power.

"Maintain the surveillance, but just for us now. I am going to go ahead and let EMAX know what we found out, and then tell them that we have to step away from the project due to prior commitments. Report on this only to me. I would imagine that the boy, Harris, was it? Yes. Harris. I would imagine his life will get interesting once EMAX gets involved. Try to get footage of the confrontations. I find myself intrigued."

"Sure thing, boss man. Say, what if anything did you want us to do about the government operation over on the SU campus?"

McDonald considers. Technically the college receives federal funding and therefore is attached primarily to federal rather than state or city laws. Were the mayor still alive, that would be a moot point as it wouldn't be worth it to earn the man's ire. But since he wasn't... "Light surveillance. Don't take any chances, and likely we won't bother to maintain it once you are no longer there for the EMAX issues, but as long as you are there anyway we may as well start a file on it."

"Sure thing boss. Talk to you when I have something for ya."

The phone clicks as McDonald places it back on the receiver. One of these days he is going to have to get a white cat just so he has something to stroke when he is feeling like this, he muses as he settles in to read more reports.

>>>>

Missy isn't sure about this. Sitting in the backseat while the Dawn Patrol rides with Mommy in the front. But she doesn't complain, because truthfully it is more comfortable back here. Being able to stretch out is nice. As long as being told to sit in the back doesn't become habit-forming.

They drop the Dawn Patrol off at school, and all thoughts of annoyance are burst when the Dawn Patrol makes a special effort to lean into the back and give Missy a big hug and kiss before waving and turning to run in response to a loud ringing that comes from the school. Jumping back into the front seat as Mommy pulls away, it is a short drive to the home of the G-Man.

Mommy asks Missy to stay in the car for a bit while Mommy talks to the G-Man. Missy is getting a little tired of being asked to sit in the car when she is introduced to the Pack. Maybe Mommy is ashamed of her? Maybe Missy is so bad that the Pack needs special reasons to accept her? Missy hopes not. It seems like a long time before she hears Mommy call for her, and in her head speak she is told that this is G-Man, and is Pack and that he is wise, but not strong, and must be protected. Missy understands the concept of an elder. She imagines that his wisdom must be great indeed though if even Mommy makes note of it. Bounding out of the car and running to the steps, she stops next to Mommy and looks up at G-Man. He is looking back at her, his hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

>>>>

Giles ponders the animal. There is obviously some demonic blood in her. Some subspecies of Hell hound would be his guess. But she seems obedient enough. Powerful, particularly if what Xander suspects proves true. Easy enough to check, though he will have to verify the cantrip to be used. He turns and walks into the home, leaving the door open. "Xander, I am going to need to check a few things and do a bit of research. Help yourself in the kitchen if you feel peckish, I won't be but a few minutes."

Xander sits on a couch while Missy lays down at his feet the two enjoy a few head scratchings and wait for Giles to come back down. When he does nearly an hour later, he finds that Xander has drifted off to sleep. Though his dog remains vigilant. After awakening Xander, he performs a few short spells and sprinkles something on Missy's nose that she doesn't like very much as it makes her sneeze violently. Giles seems to like that response as he breaks into a wide smile and scratches her quickly behind the ear by way of apology.

"Well, Xander I don't have all the things I would need to verify completely, but based on preliminary testing I suspect that your theory will prove correct. Extraordinary. Highly unusual that a dog would survive copulation with a demon, much less the pregnancy. Missy's biological mother must have been an outstanding specimen."

He smiles as he sits in the armchair across from his friend. "As for your concerns about the Soldier memories. I cannot verify completely but I don't think it is anything to worry about. Ethan, the man who cast the spell that Halloween, is undeniably clever and highly motivated to mischief, but also quite lazy. It is far easier to block memories than it is to erase them, and I think that is what is happening here. They were blocked, and what you have been using these past couple of years has been more of an echo that remained in your current memories, rather than being able to draw upon what still existed in your long-term storage, as it were. If my theory is correct, then when Missy here connected to you she peeled back the scab of that block to gain access. Then the first time you truly became one what was left was torn asunder."

Xander lets out a breath that he hadn't even realized he was holding. "So we're good? Nothing bad going on here? We're safe, you think?"

Giles allows a soft smile and shakes his head ruefully as he cleans his glasses. "Of course not dear boy. This is still the Hellmouth, and if she can be influenced by you it is highly likely that somewhere out there is something else that can do so as well. Frankly, I am just pleased that she grew up mostly free of the Hellmouth's influence and instead got her moral and ethical grounding from you."

Xander starts to smile but instead looks mildly affronted as Giles continues. "I must say though, that I am equally pleased that I am unable to speak with her myself. I am not sure I could take more than one friend at a time with your sense of humor."

Giles gets a more serious look on his face. "Being a demon does not, in spite of popular myth, make a creature inherently evil. As a rule of thumb, it is not a bad standard. But it isn't definitive. That being said Xander, you must never forget that at least part of her genealogy is wholly unknown and therefore it is probable that there will be quirks of her nature that you will need to be on the lookout for. She may refuse to attack certain demons, or consider some others as natural friends or enemies. She may have unknown allergies or reactions to certain spells or substances. She may go into heat or have other biological imperatives that will supersede her own wishes or your commands. Frankly, keeping her around is a risk. If I thought there was any possibility of success I would probably try to talk you out of it. As things stand, however, I have a few books you should read concerning Hellhounds, as I believe there is a good chance that her demonic ancestry lies in that direction. I give it fair odds, given the timing, that her father was one of the beasts that were slain at prom."

Giles' face darkens and he lowers his eyes.

"As for your parents, again you have my sympathies. My influence with the council is paper-thin, but if you like I will make some discrete inquiries among what sources I have left and see about discovering what has happened exactly. I know that your parents and yourself didn't always get along, and sometimes the act of asking could equate to kicking a hornet's nest. I leave it up to you whether or not to proceed."

Xander thinks about it. Gives Missy a soft pat and then rests his hand to reassure her as she looked at him quizzically when the tone of the conversation changed. "I think we had better. Not because my parents are worth the effort maybe, but because we don't know why they were hit. If they are planning to go after Joyce or the Rosenberg's next we need to know."

Giles nods, though he thinks it unlikely given that two and a half months have passed. But the boy is right, it is worth the effort to be sure.

From there the conversation devolves into more idle chat and gossip, something which continues after the decision is made to grab a bite of lunch. Finally, after again promising his support should anything 'ooky' happen, that afternoon Xander and Missy drop back by the high school to pick up Dawn and give her a lift back to the house. Once there and Dawn is doing homework on a coffee table while leaning against a gleeful Missy, Xander calls uncle Rory. The only family he has left that is anywhere close by.

"Rory's Roarin' Taxidermy, you kill it, I'll fill it."

Xander smiles. Rory answering the phone during business hours always drags a smile out of him.

"Isn't that illegal everywhere but the boink-your-sister states?"

"Xander! Say, have you made it back into town yet?"

Xander is getting slightly perturbed. He has checked the dates, and he knows that he spoke with Rory after his parents had been declared dead. A couple of times, actually.

"Yeah, I am back. I didn't get the trip I wanted, but I did get a sweet ride out of it. Maybe next summer."

Rory's voice seems a bit chipper at that. "Got her running, did ya? I knew the old girl had some life left in her." Then his voice drops, as though he is dragging the words out of a well of regret. "Say, Xander, would you mind stopping by the house tonight? I have some bad news. Been kinda stalling on letting you know because I didn't want to ruin your chance to get out there and see the world. Everybody needs that chance after high school to go a little crazy. But it's big, and it's bad, and if you're back I really shouldn't keep it from you any longer."

"You mean about my parents getting killed? Or the part where the bank foreclosed on the house and sold it so damned fast that when I showed up last night somebody I never met answered the door and wanted to know what the hell I was doing there? Which part, Rory?"

"The bank foreclosed? Sold the house? Damn. Sorry kiddo, I didn't even think of that. Your Dad had been begging me for money for a couple of months but I didn't think things had gotten that bad. Usually, you need to be four or five months behind before they can get the paperwork through to foreclose on ya. And I'm sorry you had to find out that way. Honestly, I kinda expected that you would call me for a tow back to town, so I was figuring on a heads up before you got here."

Xander gives a slow count to ten. His Uncle Rory always means well. But he can be so infuriating to deal with sometimes, between the drinking, the whoring, and the assumption that he is right all the damn time. "So when was the funeral?"

Rory sighs audibly into the phone. "There wasn't one. Hell, there wasn't even an obituary in the paper or a notice of the attack. Somebody leaned on it pretty hard, kid. That was the other reason I didn't tell you about it. Figured you would be better off gone until things had died down from whatever dumb ass stunt Tony pulled that got'em killed. Somebody with a lot of pull made a lot of calls, I'd wager, to see to it that the news went nowhere. People like that, they don't generally spend a lot of time worrying about how much collateral damage there is. I called the family that mattered, and I am sure they called everybody that didn't. We'll have a small service at the next reunion, probably. No bodies to bury, so it isn't like there is a big hurry to get it done. But if you can make it out here, I do still have a couple of things to give to you."

Xander sighs. "What's that?"

"Nothing serious. I wasn't sure when you were getting back, and with the crime rate in the 'Dale being what it is I dug around in the house for anything of real value, sentimental or not, packed it up and I have it at my place since I was expecting the house to be empty for a few months. Just a couple of boxes of the few nice things they had. Some jewelry, the TV, a few tools, that kind of thing. I packed up some of the stuff in your room, mostly the comics and a few odds and ends that I figured you would want to hang on to. I also put in a change of address for you with the post office. Did one for Tony and Jess too. I was expecting you to change it again when you got back, but considering the circumstances, I guess you could use my place as a mail drop and a place to crash until you get shit straightened out with the insurance people."

Xander looks at the phone like it might bite him. "Insurance? What, like life insurance or something?"

Rory lets out a somewhat less than believable chuckle. "Yeah. I have been getting mail from two different insurance companies addressed to you basically weekly. I haven't opened 'em, so I am not sure what they say, but I do know that your father always made his payment on the insurance he had from his days in the army. I think he always planned to borrow against it or something, it had a clause in it that allowed that kinda thing. Talked about a boat. But whatever it is, it's yours now. I am trying pretty hard not to think about why Jessica had a life insurance policy on her. I never heard about it until I got the first letter from them."

Xander considers. He is a little ashamed at the thought that it is entirely possible his parents were literally more useful to him dead than they were alive. "I can be out tonight. Give me a few hours, I want to make dinner for some people. I'll probably leave my mail at your place, but I have a place to stay. I'll let you know if that changes. Good enough?"

"Yeah, kid. That'll work. Look, I really am sorry about your folks. I know you and Tony didn't always see eye to eye, hell, I don't think my brother and I ever saw eye to eye on much of anything. But don't doubt that he loved ya in his own way. See you about eight or nine then?"

"Yup, eight or nine."

Hanging up the phone, Xander stands there by the receiver for a minute. Shakes his head. Then goes into the kitchen to prep the burgers he wants to grill.

>>>>

Missy is thrilled. They are on a car ride again, after Mommy gave Missy a hamburger of her very own! It was delicious, and scrumptious, and possibly even delectable. But now it is gone. That is the way of food, she decides. It is wonderful, and then it is nothing, and the only way to make it wonderful again is to find more food. Fortunately, her Mommy takes good care of her.

The car has turned onto a new road. A road made out of dirt and small rocks instead of the foul-smelling black stuff. Looking around, she can still easily see the lights of the town behind them, but they twinkle fairly far away now. It would take her minutes to run that far. Maybe as many as ten or fifteen of them. That is a long ways. Finally, the car stops on a hillside, and Mommy gets out. There is a large two-story home and a really big barn type of building next to it. The area is covered in old cars in various stages of rust and disrepair. As they walk up to the house the door opens and an older gentleman in a pair of shorts and a Hawaiian shirt that hasn't been buttoned. His flip-flops make funny sounds when he walks. He has a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a bottle in his hand, and he walks up to Xander offering his other hand to shake.

"Good to see you again kid. Well, come on in and take a load off. This the puppy you were telling me about?" He is looking back at the car, his eyes widening as his brain clicks over and he realizes that that isn't a mid-sized dog in a small car, that is an enormous dog in an equally huge automobile.

At the mental nudge, Missy hops out of the car. She is curious though. Mommy did not say that this one is Pack. Mommy said that we will keep him safe, and to be good. But he pointedly did not say that he was Pack. This confuses Missy because Missy can smell, even through tobacco, the beer, and the faint stirring of weird chemicals wafting over from the barn place, that this is the first person Mommy has brought her to that is actually related to him. Well, Mommy did say to be good and to protect him. So, I guess that is what I'll do, she decides. Even if he isn't Pack.

"Xander, what the hell kinda dog is this? I thought you said you had a little puppy, not some kinda monster like this thing." The question would be far more offensive if the old man wasn't knelt down and giving the behind-the-ear space some wonderful scratchings at the same time.

"Same puppy. I think she has a pituitary condition or something. Like some of those really big wrestlers have, where they just grow forever?"

Rory laughs and shakes his head. "You don't have to bullshit me, Xander, I know what goes bump in the night, found out near twenty years ago when somebody wanted me to do a job stuffing some kind of demon thing. And your pooch here might do some bumping, I am guessing."

Xander's mind reels. "You know? All this time you knew? And you never told me, left me to wander around as an oblivious happy meal for bloodsuckers?"

Rory looks up, then stands, his face still smiling, but the twinkle that had been in his eyes has been completely discarded. "I woulda, but my damn brother didn't believe it, wouldn't hear of it. Something about living inside the city limits just makes people stupid, and I could never get through to him once he moved you guys there. And before you start yelling at me, maybe you can turn that around. If you thought I didn't know, why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Because you would have thought I was crazy, probably had me committed..." Xander stops as his uncle raises his eyebrows. "Yeah. Okay. I guess we had our reasons."

Rory slaps him on the back. "Yeah. I guess we did. C'mon in. Bring your dog. She's housebroken, right?"

Xander rolls his eyes. "Yes, of course she is."

Rory grins. "Good. C'mon in, the both of ya. I can get together that mail and you can have a gander while we watch the national news. They lie on it too, but at least it is generally far enough away that you don't know it."

>>>>

An hour later, Xander is done looking at the mail. Apparently, he has a little over a quarter of a million dollars coming to him. Between the bank sale, the auction for the remainder of the household items, the insurance policies, and some kind of homeowners insurance claim that Rory had filed on his behalf before the place was sold. "Awfully lucky for me that they made you the go-to guy in their wills."

Rory looks up from his scotch. "Yeah, well, there wasn't really anybody else. Your dad, he wasn't so good at the 'making friends' thing."

Xander just shakes his head with a somewhat pained smile. "No, no he wasn't. Look, I am gonna go ahead and head back into town. Do you mind storing all this stuff for a while? I can probably get something worked out soon. I guess I have money now."

Rory nods. "Yeah, sure kid. Like I said, it's no problem. Get your feet under you and then we will see what happens. Be careful out there. Lock up when you leave."

Xander and Missy head back into town. Looks like tomorrow is gonna be a busy day.

 

[EnygmaSoul]

Welp. Already charmed by the adorableness every time we get to read Missy's viewpoint.
Honestly, dt, I'm not sure you're capable of posting a thread I don't immediately follow.

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 4
Those Pesky Cameras Strike Again!

>>>>

Missy is bored. Mommy and Missy spent some time making breakfast, and then spent forever sitting around the living room while Mommy used the talky box thing to speak to people far away, sometimes using a scribble stick to make little marks on a scrap of paper. Mommy did it for a really long time. All morning and into the afternoon, Mommy spoke to the talky box and then finally set it back down and smiled. A sad smile, but a smile anyways. After that, there were a few stops to make, but Missy had to wait in the car. It was really boring then too. All this waiting.

She took a nap on the second stop. It was so long, she's sure she almost died of boredom.

Once all the stops are made, Mommy takes Missy to a new part of town that she hasn't ever been to before. It has big buildings, and people walk around a lot carrying bags and books. Mostly they are always hurrying, not really looking around so much as just trying their best to get where they are going. When Mommy stops the car and gets out, Missy is surprised that he asks her to join Mommy. But Missy is ever so pleased.

Missy is less pleased with the looks some of the people give her. Mommy thinks Missy is beautiful though, so the opinions of non-Pack don't really matter very much.

Mommy is taking her to a big building, but Missy hears conflict in the distance. A fight. Angry voices and flesh hitting flesh. It is more than a little exciting to her. She looks at Mommy, but Mommy doesn't seem concerned.

Maybe Mommy can't hear it? Maybe if Mommy heard it Mommy would want to find out? Missy has never shared with Mommy unless there was danger or Mommy asked, but fighting could be dangerous? Maybe? Missy reasons that even if they decide not to do anything, Mommy would still want to know there was a fight. So, she shares. Seconds later, she is chasing Mommy because Mommy just turned and sprinted. Apparently, Mommy is very interested. Missy has done good! Soon, soon there will be extra head-scratching and probably a treat.

All is right and good in the world of Missy, for Mommy loves her very much.

They turn the corner and the concern and interest from Mommy becomes a red-hot rage. He doesn't stop running, but at her querying yip, he sends to her mind. 'The short blond woman is Buffy. She is Pack. We protect her. The man she is fighting is Spike. Spike is Badman. Spike needs to die. Make Spike die.'

So exciting! Her first battle side by side with Mommy and other Pack as well! Now with a clear goal in mind, Missy pours on the speed. Even sharing, Mommy is so much slower than Missy. Leaping over a bench, the Badman sees her coming and his jaw drops at the sight. That might have been a bad idea because the Buffy Slayer punches him hard in the chest while he is distracted. She ducks to do it, throwing all her weight into it. So Missy leaps over her and hits the Badman with the power of a runaway truck made of teeth and, oddly, a fair amount of glee. The badman throws up an arm to protect his face and tries to throw himself back towards the street as he does. Missy's bone-crushing jaws clamp down on the forearm he offers, and then the weight of her body flings them both to the ground in a rolling pile of flailing limbs and pain.

The Buffy Slayer looks on in astonishment as Mommy runs past her, offering an apologetic smirk at the same time.

The Badman starts dragging Missy to the icky hole with the round metal cover and pops the lid just as mommy arrives. Missy decides that she isn't going to let the Badman go. Mommy starts beating on the Badman's face while holding the front of his shirt, and Missy continues to growl and grind away at the arm that she has never let go of.

Sadly, the arm gives up before they are able to kill the Badman. Tearing off the arm, Missy then spends time hacking and coughing and desperately trying to get the taste of icky dust out of her mouth.

It is really, really gross.

The Badman scurries down into the sewer, screaming something about how he'll get even, but even though Mommy is helping her right now and she can understand it, she still thinks that Badman is probably full of poop. He wasn't tough enough to get any evens on anybody. If he comes back, he'll just lose another arm, and it isn't like Badmans got a lot of extras of those to lose. Mommy gives her head a quick scratching and picks up something from the ground as he walks back to the Buffy Slayer. A ring that fell off of the Badman. A fancy one. Missy decides that they can live without her for a minute and walks over to a sprinkler that is running to rinse her mouth out.

Badmans taste horrible.

>>>>

"Heya Buffster. Any idea why laughing boy was out enjoying the day?" Xander smiles as he tosses the ring over to her with one hand and points at the sun with the other. Spike doesn't strike him as the type to wear big gaudy rings without a practical use for them. He is guessing it is Hellmouthy.

Buffy smiles as it dawns on her who this man is. "No clue. Asked him that myself, but oddly he was rather tight-lipped about it. Rings that don't dust with their vamps make me suspicious though, I'll run this by Giles later. Who's your friend?" She asks this while pointing at the enormous and obvious dog-hyena hybrid that very softly pings her Slaydar and is currently sorting out the best way to get at the water without getting soaked.

Xander looks over his shoulder at Missy and laughs at her efforts. "That's Missy. She's my faithful and true dog-like companion thing. Checked by Giles and Hellmouth approved. Somewhat." This last is said with a slight grimace.

Buffy looks concerned as the huge animal starts walking back towards them. "Somewhat? That isn't hugely comforting. Why somewhat? And you should know that your faithful thing here pings my Slaydar. Not, like, really hard like gotta-kill-it-one-more-time. But pingage is definitely happening. You ping a little now too. Not as much as she does, even. But there is a bit of a blip."

Xander crouches as the animal comes close and rubs the fur on her flank as she gives him a big old face lick. "You'd have to talk to Giles to get the full meal deal. But basically, she is some kind of half-breed that sensed my old hyena possession and attached herself to it when she was a twenty-pound puppy like three months ago. So, now she is my cute widdle doggy, yes she is!"

Buffy laughs. She can't help it. Xander, the one that she was trying to think of an easy way to get him out of the Slayage for good before he got himself killed, shows back up with some kind of demon attack dog and a partial possession of some sort to back it up. And Giles approved it, apparently. "Only you Xander. Only you."

Her smile fades. "This isn't like the primal thing, is it? Are you planning to lose your mind and eat pigs and, umm... do other bad things?"

Xander stops petting Missy and gets back to his feet, shame crawling across his face. "No, it's nothing like that. Like I said, I went and get checked out by Giles yesterday. He wasn't a hundred percent behind the awesomeness that is Miss Missy, but he didn't condemn her either."

Buffy thinks about that for a minute. "Fair enough. I'll get the lowdown from him later when I turn in this lovely ring you presented me." She smirks at him. "Come on down to the cafeteria with me, I was going to meet Willow for a late lunch and some homework time before we do an early patrol just after dark. But with you back, I am guessing the plan has changed some."

Xander grins. "Sure, let me get the props on her."

Buffy frowns. "What props? Why do you need props?"

He smirks and she finds herself laughing out loud at his wiggling eyebrows when she realizes what he is doing. Dark sunglasses. Collapsible white cane pulled from his slender backpack. The retractable leash that looks like it was intended for a chihuahua, and when he lets go of the handle becomes a tiny bauble that hangs off Missy's collar. "Oh my god, Xander. Do people actually fall for this? They think that this is a seeing-eye dog?"

He smirks a lopsided grin at her. "Honestly, I am not sure if they believe it or they are just not willing to risk being wrong. I mean, can you imagine having to explain to a judge that you refused to allow service because you didn't believe that they were blind? Anyway, cheesy as it is, it works. Let's go."

>>>>

Missy is overcome a little when she is introduced to the Red Tree. Mommy's love for Red Tree is a little intimidating to her. Missy knows that they share a long history and that she has been in Mommy's Pack longer than anybody that is still alive. But to know that there is somebody that Mommy would lay down and die for if Mommy had to is very scary for her. She resolves to never let it get that far. If anything threatens the Red Tree, Missy will tear it apart before it can become a problem. That decision made, she focuses her attention on the cursed one.

Mommy says that this is the Ozwolf. He might be, but he smells like a patch of diseased flesh to her, and he is very close to the Red Tree. She lets out a warning growl when he goes to put his arm around the Red Tree. A rolling rumble in the back of her throat. A warning. The Buffy Slayer and the Red Tree don't seem to understand. They give mean looks to her, except Mommy who looks sad, and the Ozwolf who looks confused.

Mommy says that the Ozwolf is Pack. Mommy says that they know he is sick, but that he is careful and the Pack doesn't abandon members just because they get sick. Mommy says that Missy should already know that.

Mommy says that she is ashamed of Missy.

Missy is crushed. She lays down in front of Mommy and whines piteously until Mommy gives her a comforting pat and shoulder scratch. Then she just watches everything around the Pack and tries not to think too hard about a dangerous diseased person being so close to normal Pack.

"Sorry about that Oz. She knows that you are, umm... Sick. And she knows that Willow is important to me. She got a little hyper-protective there for a minute."

Oz Looks at the Half demon thing with a small smile threatening to tarnish his otherwise nearly perfect reputation for stoicism. "You know how?"

Xander looks a bit lost for a second, wondering how well the crew will take this given the history he has. "We, ahh, we talk sometimes. You know, brain to brain like. Not all the time or anything. And I make all my own decisions and Buffy stop looking at me like that I am not possessed! Checked with Giles and everything!"

Buffy has the good graces to look a little contrite, but soldiers on. "Xander, isn't talking to somebody else in your head pretty much the definition of being possessed?"

Xander stands up. "No, you know what? Not even going to get into it. I'll say something dumb, then you will get all mad about it, then I will get pissed that you got mad, and then I won't see you for three weeks, and the next thing I know I am the second-stringer called in at the last minute to fetch donuts for the latest apocalypse. Nuh-uh. Not this time. I did my due diligence, I got checked by Giles. Talk to him and I will see you at the Bronze tonight."

Buffy reddens and stands herself. "Xander, calm down. I think I am allowed to worry a little, especially after what happened last time."

Xander just holds a finger up to her lips. "Bup bup bup! No. I said no. Talk to Giles. I will see you guys later. C'mon Missy. Let's motor."

The last thing he hears from them is a plaintive cry from Willow. "Thanks a lot, Buffy. I haven't seen him for three months and the first thing you do is drive him away? What is wrong with you?"

>>>>

Missy is sad. She walks behind Mommy with her head low. She tries to be good, and do good things, but there are so many rules! And some rules don't make sense with other rules, and other rules don't seem to have a reason at all but they are still apparently very important. So many rules, she despairs that she will ever learn them all, and she knows that until she does she will, at times, disappoint Mommy.

It is maddening, the whole thing with people, it is just madness! It isn't supposed to be this complex, part of her says with authority. It is supposed to be just her Pack, a strong, healthy Pack. And they are supposed to take all comers, and they are supposed to love and care about each other and fight to lead and... Wait. Fight to lead? How can you have combat between Pack and still love between Pack? That makes no sense either. Could she fight Mommy to lead?

Would she ever want to?

No. No is the answer. She would never want to fight Mommy. She would never want to fight the Dawn Patrol, who gives her kisses and hugs and sneaks her bacon. She would never want to fight the G-Man or the Joy Mother, both of which did so much to make Mommy feel better.

She would never want to fight the Red Tree because she believes to the very core of the soul she is borrowing from Mommy that this would be the one thing she could do that Mommy could never forgive her for.

Maybe that is why there have to be rules? To keep Missy from acting on impulses that would hurt Mommy? Maybe. Maybe when Missy is as old and wise as Mommy, Missy will make some rules of her own.

Like, we eat only bacon and roast beef on days that have stress. As far as Missy is concerned, nothing relieves stress better than bacon and roast beef.

Getting into the car, Missy turns a sad and soulful gaze onto Mommy. Mommy gives her a hug and sends that this isn't her fault. Mommy should have told her the rules before they got there. But Mommy didn't know that Missy was so very clever as to know that the Ozwolf was sick. Mommy is impressed but worried. Worried that Missy will do something that they will both regret. Mommy asks that Missy be more curious than reactive unless there is already a fight in progress, and to ask if she has concerns instead of threatening or attacking.

Missy can live with that.

>>>>

Maggie Walsh is a driven woman. A geneticist, electrical engineer, and physician with some patents that could someday make things like cyborgs a reality. But just now, she is stuck teaching her last class of the day to a bunch of idiot freshmen. Whoever came up with this cover will be boiled alive in their own excrement one day, she swears to see it done. So much time is being wasted, when she could be dealing with the things going on underground, in her labs.

Finally, the time is up, and she turns loose her current crop of morons. Last class of the day, thank god. Her aid and for all practical purposes second in command, Riley Finn, is waiting for her with a laptop. Walking into the class even as the students are trying to leave. He waits patiently until the final questions are answered, then places the laptop in front of her.

"Professor Walsh, this is hot. He is still on campus, and I have two men watching him now."

Then he presses play on the screen. It didn't take the organization he works with, 'The Initiative,' long to realize that the Hostile Sub-Terrestrials, shortened to HST's in most official documents, liked to use the many sewers and underground passages that crisscross the city as a way to move about town. While they couldn't get a camera on every entrance to that labyrinth, they were able to get a wide-angle lens on all the ones they know of on the campus grounds.

As she watches the video, she sees a small blonde woman fighting a known HST. One they believed to be of a type that was deathly allergic to the sun and doing it in broad daylight. They both move with speed, grace, and strength that was too much for the quality of the camera and so often their movements became essentially a blur. For all of that, they seemed fairly well matched.

Then the parameters of the confrontation changed. Some kind of beast. Mayhaps loosely based on a dog, if there was a breed that came in at probably close to three hundred pounds of lean muscle. It leaps over the blonde woman and tears into the HST with a ferocity that is beyond astonishing. This beautiful creature, for that is how she now sees it, flips the sub-terrestrial to the ground like a terrier going after a rat. The only reason the damn thing gets away from the beast and what is obviously the beast's handler who shows up in time to start beating on the HST's face with powerful strikes of his own is that it leaves its arm behind to do so. The video ends with this creature and the two probable humans leaving the camera's view as they are talking and generally acting like a pair of reunited friends. After the video ends, she sits quietly for a few seconds. "Who are they, Riley? The woman looks familiar, but the video quality makes it difficult."

After quickly double-checking his notes, the response comes. "The blonde woman is Buffy Summers. I believe she is in your morning 'Intro to Psyche' class. Freshman. Interesting record with the law, but nothing bad stamped on her permanent record other than a lot of he said, she said. Not sure who the man is. The... Dog? Is a complete mystery. I can send a couple of stills from the end of the tape to some people I know who deal with K9 units and are really into using alternate breeds to see if they can give me an idea if you'd like."

Her eyes burn with a curiosity that transcends the boundaries of good sense. "Yes, go ahead and do that and find out who that young man is. He may know where we can get such a specimen. Can you imagine, Riley? K9 units capable of taking down an HST like that long enough to knock it out? Capable of killing it, if needed? This could be the most important discovery we have made here."

Riley agrees with her assessment. But he always gets a little nervous when she gets that look on her face. He can't help but feel a little bad for this guy, whoever he is. Chances are good his life just got a lot more complex, whether he knows it or not.

 

[Datatroll]

Welp. Already charmed by the adorableness every time we get to read Missy's viewpoint.
Honestly, dt, I'm not sure you're capable of posting a thread I don't immediately follow.

Click to shrink...

LOL, thanks. I'll try not to disappoint.

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 5
Revelations.

>>>>

Buffy knocks hesitantly on Giles' door. Technically he isn't her watcher anymore. Well, he is and he isn't. The council had turned him loose and he wasn't getting much if any money and resources from them anymore. But, he seemed to care about Buffy and the gang. More importantly, he understood better than most that the difference between fighting the darkness and ignoring it was the difference between being a wild animal or one on a farm.

In the end, at least the one in the wild has a chance. The ignorant one on the farm is just waiting until someone gets hungry.

He answers the door and smiles briefly at her. He doesn't invite her in though. It isn't quite dark out, but the sun is low enough that a vamp could get around. He instead backs away from the door. "I wasn't expecting you this evening. I had wagered it would be at least until tomorrow before you came to me about Xander."

Buffy can't help but smile, though it is a little hurt. "Am I really that predictable?"

Giles laughs. "In some ways, yes. In others, you are the least predictable person I have ever known. Or at least as bad as Xander, anyway."

Buffy perks up. "So, yeah, about Xander. How are we going to get rid of his possession thingy this time? He is denying it is a problem, just like last time, but he let slip that they talk to each other in their heads, so it has to be bad."

Giles shakes his head. "While it is true that they have a mental connection, there is no compulsion attached to it. In fact, the closest thing I was able to find by way of a compulsion is a fanatical devotion on the part of Missy towards Xander. What the boy has achieved is unusual, well, unusual for most. Nearly par for the course when applied to his history. But when I ran my tests there was no evil intent in either. Moreover, the animal has a soul. Either was born with one or has borrowed a bit of Xander's. Either way, the fact that it has one implies that she is far more than a mere power that attaches to another organism like some kind of parasite. Therefore she cannot be anything like the primal."

Buffy is wrinkling her nose at the start of the explanation, but by the end, she is shocked and confused. "If this thing stole part of his soul it has to be bad, what the hell Giles?! I need to kill it and get his soul back!"

Giles again shakes his head, and this time he is cleaning his glasses as he motions for her to sit down. "Buffy, where do you suppose you got your soul?"

Buffy looks confused, wondering what that has to do with anything. "Heaven, maybe? I don't know. What does it matter?"

Putting his glasses back on, Giles responds. "Buffy, when you are conceived part of the process is a tiny sliver of each of your parent's souls that is fused together and grows to be your own. It is the spiritual side of the miracle of life in humans. All that the half-demon here has done is steal a tiny sliver of a soul. A piece so small that Xander will never miss it, has probably already healed the damage. He may have inadvertently offered it, the boy gives of himself and takes risks for others almost as an afterthought for anyone he cares about. I've no doubt it will eventually be the death of him. The point is that as unusual as it may all be, killing that animal would be the same as killing Xander's child. As soon as I had that worked out, I stopped worrying about how to remove the animal, and instead how to deal with it."

Buffy didn't seem to know how to respond for a few seconds. Then she continues, less sure of herself but still undeterred. "Giles, I get what you are saying. I really do. But It can't possibly be good to have a demon in you. Think of vampires, think of Eyghon!" The last bit is something of a low blow, as it was a reference to the indiscretions of his own youth.

Instead of getting upset, he looks at her somewhat pointedly. "Think of the Slayer?"

Buffy looks somewhat confused. "What do you mean?"

Giles stands and begins to pace. "Buffy, what I am about to tell you would be best kept to yourself. But before you condemn someone who has done no wrong for having a hitchhiker on their soul, you need to know where the Slayer Spirit came from, and it wasn't heaven. Have you never considered it? More strength than a primal? Prophetic dreams? Which in case you are curious, are merely a fancy way of speaking to you in your mind. Never mind the compulsion to hunt and kill things that stalk in the night. Your power comes from a demonic source, Buffy. The Slayer spirit is a demonic one, twisted by magic long lost. Before you damn the boy for the path he is on, consider how closely it mirrors your own. If things do get out of control, as I warned him they could, we will of course assist him. But we will not condemn Xander or the child of his soul based on past indiscretions that were not even his any more than we would condemn Oz for his affliction. Or you for yours. Indeed, the only one in our little group that could be condemned out of hand for his supernatural past would be myself. Have I made this point clear?"

Buffy doesn't respond. She is sitting there in shock, as while she had off and on wondered where her power came from she had never imagined something like this. A demon? Something like a vampire's demon, bound by magic to infest girls until they died, forcing them into combat night after night until it kills them?

Something not made by a god, capital "G" or no. But by man. A spell, Giles had said. A spell cast by somebody that was dead thousands of years before the ancients discovered the world was round. Someone dead so long ago that even if she knew who the descendants were, sending them a nastygram would be beyond pointless. She kind of knew if she was being honest that it had to be possession-ish. Otherwise, how could the spirit move to a new slayer? But a demon? Living in her?

Giles lets her stew in thought for a few minutes. Then continues. "That all being said, I am willing to admit that there is the danger of the unknown in Xander's situation. In the case of werewolves and Slayers, we have innumerable years of mythology, then history, and then finally the Watchers journals. We know, as well as can possibly be expected, how these afflictions function. We know the dangers. We know how to minimize those dangers, and god help me, Buffy, in both cases we are well aware of how to deal with things. Should anything truly go wrong with either."

Seeing the look on Buffy's face, he changes his tone to something so dark it might have been scraped off the bottom of a tar pit. "In the past, there have been Slayers that left us no choice. Slayers who have become drunk with power and racked up body counts in days that would take the most industrious vampire years. Judge not, before you have researched and know the truth. But in the case of Xander, as with most of the things the poor boy seems to face, there is little to no precedent. All we can know for certain is that much like the Primal Possession by the Hyena, the Soldier Possession that Halloween night, and his stint as a potential creature from the black lagoon during that unpleasantness with his swimming coach and those mystical chemicals he was exposed to?"

The older man allows a slight smile to grace his features. "It has all left its mark. Most who fight the dark end up with bits and pieces of the dark as part of their lives. So far he has been lucky enough that his worst luck has come full circle, most of the time, into a boon here or there."

Buffy, either by her own nature or simply through her slayer gifts, has always been able to shift gears quickly. "I get the Primal and the soldier. But I thought we cleared out all the fish man gunk from his system?"

Giles offers her a sheepish grin. "We did. But we were unable to turn back the changes that had already happened. It isn't much. He still swims as well as he did while he was on the team. Olympic class. Record-setting, potentially, if he were to dedicate himself to it for even a month or two. The big one is the breathing thing."

Buffy is looking at Giles like she is just hoping for the crazy train to finally crawl to a stop. "Breathing thing?"

Giles once again offers a smile. "Yes. The next time we are all together doing research, and he has no need to speak." Giles rolls his eyes. "Which I'll admit seems to be a rare occurrence."

Buffy smirks at this, and Giles continues. "Next time it happens, try to keep an eye on how often he bothers to breathe while at rest. So far it seems to be once every seventeen or so minutes. If he chose, I suspect he could hold his breath for five or six times as long. In truth, I would be willing to wager a substantial portion of next month's rent that he still requires the same amount of oxygen but that his body on the whole has gotten many hundreds of times better at processing and storing it for later use. Much like any other semi-aquatic mammal or reptile."

Buffy gasps. "Just stop, I don't need to know any more about the Xandernomicon! Just tell me what I need to be on the lookout for."

Giles considers for a moment. "Difficult to say. His situation has changed. I would imagine he will be more aggressive."

Seeing her look, he holds a hand up to stop the inevitable question. "Not aggression toward you, but more willing to be aggressive to vampires, demons, and other such ilk. He was unable to stay his hand when he was working with only human potential, the idea that he would stand aside or offer only a role as bait and support now, well, I don't see it happening. His connection to Missy will undoubtedly change him, as having a child changes us all. Having responsibility for an inquisitive, intelligent, and unquestionably loyal child would cause significant changes even if there were no demonic influence or soul witchery in the equation."

He pauses, considering. Takes a sip of his tea, and then his eyes meet Buffy's again.

"I think if I was watching for changes in Xander that could foretell negative changes, it would be a bent toward things that were anathema to him before. He was not above piques of jealousy in the past. He was occasionally prone to snap judgments. He was never cruel. Never vindictive. He was not above acts of retribution if the situation warranted it, but he never reveled in it beyond the heat of the moment. Basically, Buffy, he is a solid, loyal, good man. And as long as he doesn't stray too far from that path, I see no need to revisit this."

Buffy seems as though she isn't quite as convinced, but Giles admits to himself that the wrong done her during the Primal incident would warrant a bit of skepticism. As long as she has time to get used to things, everything should be alright. "Is there any other reason you have stopped by, Buffy? Not that I am upset by your company, but it seems unlikely you would have come across town for a conversation that could have been handled over the phone."

Buffy nods. Still a little numb as she considers all that has been said. She pulls the ring out of her pocket and hands it to Giles. "Ran into Spike today. About four in the afternoon. On-campus. Outside. We got into a bit of a tussle and he laughed off a staking that I was sure was dead on, then Xander and super-mutt showed up, tore his right arm off just below the elbow while beating his face bloody and after Spike escaped into the sewer Xander picked that up and tossed it to me. Spike had been wearing it, but it didn't dust with the rest of the arm. We thought it might be important."

Giles looks flabbergasted. "Dear lord, the Gem of Amara? William the Bloody was wearing the Gem of Amara, and their response was to tear his arm off and force him to escape into a sewer?"

Buffy is getting a little concerned now. "Assuming it is that ring, I am guessing that yeah, that is what happened. His pooch grabbed Spike's arm and had a field day with it. Spike tried to escape into the sewer and when the dog wouldn't let go he ended up losing his arm. Xander basically just went to town on Spike's face while the guy was trying to get away. Why are you giving me that look, it's what happened. I mean, Spike may not have been at his best, he had just gone nine rounds with me. But he wasn't particularly hurt and those two just steamrolled him."

Giles sets the ring down on the coffee table, looking at it as though he is concerned it might grow a mouth and attack. "Buffy, if I am right, this ring is one of the most dangerous artifacts on the planet. To a vampire, wearing the gem offers immunity to nearly all of the traditional vampire weaknesses. Sunlight, staking, holy water. Even fire, all become worthless. The last time it was found and worn by a master vampire of Spike's caliber, it took a legion to overwhelm the foul creature so he could be beheaded. Yet you tell me that Xander and Missy saw you in trouble, and responded with an assault that resulted in them tearing bits off until he managed to run away."

Buffy frowns. It seems that Giles isn't quite as impressed with the nine rounds of pre-Xander fight as she thinks he should be. "Yeah, I guess. That is pretty much what happened. Like I said though, he was probably pretty beat. I mean, I had just put him through the wringer."

Giles glances up at her. "I need to put this in my safe. Call the council. Supposedly the gem cannot be destroyed. But perhaps we can encase it in lead and sink it to the bottom of the ocean or something."

Buffy looks at him. "Or we could give it to Angel. If it is as cool as you say, he could do a lot of good with it."

Giles frowns. Bringing up the vampire with a soul will always get that response from him. While he will admit that Angel has done some good, and genuinely seems to be trying to atone for what his demon has done, the memory of him being Angelus is still raw. The exact same being merely unencumbered with a soul had gone on a rampage not so long ago that included the murder of his love at the time and the torture of his person for what seemed like days.

But Angel didn't do that. Angelus did. Even as he considers the argument ahead, he realizes the corner that Buffy has maneuvered him into. In order to damn Angel, he now has to damn Xander as well. They had both done horrendous things due to being under the influence of magic in their past, after all.

It is easy to forget sometimes that behind the valley girl and bottle blonde facade that she lives behind, Buffy is one of the top ten most successful Slayers of all time. Some of that is due to the assistance provided by her friends, and he indulges himself to think that he is one of these.

But a large part of it is that both in a fight and in her life she has a tendency to think a few moves ahead, and is a world-class opportunist. Had she opened up with this instead, as might have been proper as both the Gem and Spike being back in town were far more worrisome than Xander's new predicament, He would have undoubtedly responded differently to her worries about Xander. The result would have been the same, but he would have softened the blow, tweaked the edges a bit to make his view on the possible destiny of the ring more palatable. Now that wasn't an option. As he looks at her slight smile, he realizes that she either set him up for this or had already worked it out before she brought up the gem.

"Yes. Well, I suppose given past favors including his assistance at graduation if any vampire has earned the right to be entrusted with it, it would be him. But Buffy you must understand that should the unthinkable happen, you will be the one to have to kill him. Nobody else will be able to even attempt it while he wears that. Are you prepared to take responsibility for anything he might do until you can make his death permanent?"

She glares at him. "If need be, yes. But it won't come to that."

"It has before. It cost us a lot when it did. I need you to be sure you can deal with it if it does again." Giles' look isn't quite an out-and-out challenge. But it is close. A lot closer than Buffy is used to dealing with from him.

Buffy snatches the ring up off the table and jams it back into her pocket. "Yes, Giles. It did cost us a lot. Do you know why it did? It happened because a bunch of idiot gypsies cursed a demon with a soul, left a loophole so that soul could get lost again, and didn't bother to tell the poor bastard what the loophole was. It happened because the gypsies were too moronic to understand the concept of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. They could have killed him. Instead, they tortured an innocent soul for a hundred years and didn't even bother to tell him that his dick was the key that would open Pandora's box. Trust me. I have put more thought into this than anybody else alive. You can blame Angelus. You can blame the gypsies. You could even blame the vampire slayer for falling for a vampire I suppose if you really wanted to stretch it. But you cannot blame Angel. You cannot blame the soul. The soul did everything it could."

Giles stops. It was all information that he already had, of course. In fact, he recalls another conversation not dissimilar to this one taking place just after the events. But restated in such a blatant fashion, and with some time to dull the edges of his grief, it makes more sense than it once did when he simply wanted to kill the man and be done with it.

He nods. "As you wish then. I will hold you to your promise. I feel that I will need to think some on the events of the day, and will probably have to spend some time researching the gem so I can send along instructions when he gets it. Probably better that you hang onto the item itself since we aren't trying to hide or destroy it. But one last thing before you go. That gem is essentially the Holy Grail for vampires, and if Spike had it and got away, at least one vampire out there knows that we have it. Do be careful. They will be coming for it if the word gets out."

Buffy is opening the door by now on her way out, and turns. "Who?"

Giles turns back from his bookshelf, where he was already looking for a few tomes. "All of them, Buffy. All of them."

>>>>

Author's note:
I legitimately cannot remember when the true origin of the slayer was revealed to Buffy. But since it works so damn well right here, in this AU, it, umm, happened right here?

/runs away from plot Nazis

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 6
Cue Up the Dramatic Tension!

>>>>

>> UC Sunnydale, 4:28 PM.
Buffy left the cafeteria shortly after Xander did, mumbling about needing to talk to Giles. As this left Willow with her boyfriend, she decided to ask him a question that had been bothering her since the whole problem with Missy had come up less than an hour ago. "So, why have you been, well, happy since Missy growled at you? It can't be good to be hated on sight by Xander's demonic dog-thing."

Oz looks over at her and offers a rare smile. "Not hated. Concerned."

Willow frowns. "What do you mean?"

Oz considers. He usually makes it a point to keep his words as short and concise as possible, mostly because he isn't that social, but also because if you force people to interpret what you say, they have to actually listen and understand what you are saying. But this might not be a time to risk a miss communication. "Dog doesn't hate me. Worried about you. Concerned about me because she can sense things, and is strong enough to go McGruff and take a bite out of Spike. Anything that makes you safer makes me happy, and Xander's new kit and pet make you safer."

Willow considers this. It seems strange to her that her boyfriend would be happy about getting the shovel speech from Xander's dog. But it did feel kinda nice to have something else powerful that wanted to protect her around. "What do you mean Xander's kit? I thought we agreed that Missy was a puppy thing, not a kitty thing."

Oz glances over. "Sometimes it isn't about what people say, it's about how they say it. When Buffy told us that Xander and his dog helped with Spike, what did she sound like?"

Willow thinks back. "Well, she was happy that Spike had run. Annoyed she couldn't handle it herself. Maybe even a little resentful?" Her eyes widen as her analytical mind starts to run with what Oz's more zen view of the world had already picked up on. "She wouldn't resent Xander having a dog. The demon nature of it explains some of her concern, but she wouldn't resent it unless Xander had been a huge part of what made Spike run. So Xander is strong again somehow? Maybe that is why she is so concerned that he is possessed?"

Oz gives her a minute. Willow is anything but stupid, she just isn't as insightful about human nature as he is. But he gave her what she needed, and he knows that she can get there on her own now. More importantly, she won't fight it if she gets there on her own like she would if he told her. A state of essentially guerrilla warfare for three years had made for deep bonds between Willow and Buffy that made it really hard to see the bad in each other, however slight.

Willow continues after a brief moment to catch her breath. "If Xander is strong again and has a super powerful dog as well and can beat up Spike and doesn't need to be coddled any more then he is going to want to be more on the front lines and might be able to do just fine there and that would mean that Buffy would be... Less special." Willow lowers her eyes as the realization hits.

Oz nods, pleased she got there as quickly as she did. "A lot of her self-worth is wrapped around being the one everybody has to rely on. Since she was 'called' or whatever, it's all she's had. Getting used to a shift in the power structure is probably not going to be easy for her. But there is a lot of guesswork here too. Don't even know for sure that Xander is stronger than normal. Just a theory that fits the facts we have."

Willow does that thing that Oz loves where she bites her lip a little as she thinks, a slight frown marring an otherwise perfect view. "Should we do anything?"

Oz shakes his head. "We can't. Other than being supportive of our friends. Inner demons are our own problems, we can only get help for the outer ones."

Willow turns to look at him directly. "B-but that sucks!"

Oz just nods back at her and moves in to cover that beautiful pout with a kiss. A light peck on the lips. Then he moves back.

Talk of classes and homework fill the time until eight when they are supposed to meet at the Bronze.

>>>>

Xander heads Back to the Summer's residence to make dinner for himself, Joyce and Dawn. He figures he can get away with it maybe two or three more times before Joyce bans him from the kitchen for a while. Unloading the car from the trip to the store he just made so he could do steaks on the grill, he and Missy head in. As soon as the door shuts there is movement upstairs, and very quickly a smiling but somewhat annoyed Dawn comes down to hand him the cordless house phone and give Missy scratchings.

"You need to call back your Uncle Rory. He was talking about some jerkwad that stopped by to ask where you were staying, and grilled him about Missy."

Xander isn't in full-on panic mode yet, but it is hard to imagine how this could possibly be good. Dropping off the steaks in the fridge first, he slouches into the living room and dials his uncle.

"Rory's Radical Taxidermy, the easiest way to make a vegetarian uncomfortable since you asked 'er if she swallowed."

Xander can't help it and laughs out loud. "I can't believe nobody has turned you in to the Better Business Bureau or something."

The laugh that comes back is both deep and loud. "Who says they haven't? But a ding on the website for being non-politically correct doesn't do much to hurt me. Listen, I'm glad you called. Been trying to get a hold of ya."

Xander, still smiling, affirms this. "Yeah, I'd heard you had called the house. Glad I gave you the number. What's up?"

There is a moment of silence. "Well, I am not rightly sure, if I am being honest with you. Some folks showed up at the house around noon asking about you and Missy. They had some pictures of a dog that they seemed to think escaped from a lab somewhere and had himself some puppies with some local critter, and they have some delusion that one of the puppies is the one that you have. Not sure why they would think that since the picture they showed me of the supposed father of the animal looked like a dead average Mastiff. Big, but nothing like Missy is, and the bone structure is way off. I ain't a vet, but forty years in this business has given me a pretty good eye for this kinda thing."

Xander waits for a moment while the flicking of a lighter happens in the background, and a few seconds later his uncle picks up where he left off.

"Under normal circumstances, I would say there is basically no chance that this thing is related to your pooch. But, we both know the situation ain't normal. Anyway, they read me a riot act about how violent the strain is in the lab, and how we needed to turn her over and a bunch of other bull crap. Honestly, I'd a laughed 'em off the property except there was like six of 'em and half of 'em were packing. They weren't subtle about it neither, they wanted me to know. So it wasn't just to protect themselves, they were trying to bully me, shove me in a corner and make me like a doll with a pull string, tell 'em what I know."

Crap. Giles mentioning that Missy's mother must have come from outstanding stock rolls through his mind like a tumbleweed made of razor blades. "What did you tell them?"

Rory laughs. "What could I tell 'em? They already know you get your mail here, must have dug it up out of some computer somewhere. I said that you had been by and probably would be by again in the next few days to pick up your mail. Said I'd give ya their card when you stopped by. Hell, I almost didn't call ya, worried about the bastards finding the address through the number and such, but then I remembered that you had already called from there and figured the heads up was probably worth it."

Xander can't particularly argue with that line of reasoning. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Listen, I am probably gonna drop off the face of the earth for a few days, but... It's Wednesday, right? Yeah, look, if you don't hear from me by Saturday go ahead and assume that something has gone horribly, horribly, wrong. Okay?"

"Xander, do you know what is going on? I am kinda worried for ya, kid. These hombre's looked kinda mean. Not in a gutter punk shank-you-in-an-alley kind of way, but more like the type that might, just saying it's possible, might lose a dog and get a hint where it might be, kill some people, and then lean on the cops and paper to shut it up kinda mean. You had just left town a week before all that went down, and just now when you are back? It smells a bit, ya know?"

Xander closes his eyes. He'd considered it, that these assholes might have killed his mom. But he thought maybe he was still a little too close to it. Nice to see somebody that has had a few months to process thought the same thing. "Yeah. Thought about that. Let me get a piece of paper and a pencil, I'll take down the information on the card. I know somebody that might be able to look into it for me."

Xander takes down the information, thanks his uncle again for the heads up, and then calls Giles.

"Giles residence, Rupert Giles speaking."

"Heya Giles. So, might have some more information about the death of my parents."

After detailing what he had just learned from Rory, he waits a moment to see what Giles has to say. He hears an exhalation, as though a breath has been let out, and then Giles speaks.

"It cannot ever be easy with you, can it? I will look into this as I can, but you should know that I took a stroll by your old residence today and happened across a rather interesting piece of surveillance equipment. Given the crime happened on the Hellmouth I was checking the area for magical signatures and caught the thing out of the corner of my eye attached to the underside of some rain gutters across the street, and aimed at your front door. I left it there for now in the hopes that I wasn't spotted having seen it but whoever is doing this to you has magical backing, and is apparently not yet finished with whatever it is that they are doing. I suppose what I am saying is that this has just become our problem rather than a problem I am helping you with."

There is a slight pause as the man sits down on his couch. "I would like to bring in everyone. I will also need to run some further tests on yourself and Missy. Buffy told me some about your altercation earlier, and given that her word was that you had 'steamrolled' a magically augmented and therefor supposedly invulnerable and fairly notorious master vampire, it would be in our best interests to get some idea what exactly you are capable of."

Xander gets a grin on his face. "So, you mean like, training? I get training now? Slayer training for the Xan-Man?"

Giles can't help it and quirks his lips in a quick grin. "Possibly. I shall know more about what I can or cannot do for you after we have tested your capabilities more thoroughly. Frankly, the testing I did before was geared entirely toward making sure that your mind was your own. I hadn't considered the extent of your potential... power boost. I assumed that there would be some, and only a fool could overlook the lethality of Missy. But I had no concept that even together you would be capable of going against a master vampire of Spike's degree of ruthlessness."

Xander has a wide smile now. "Yeah, I am not sure I did so much myself, it all happened so fast it was kind of a blur. But Missy went six kinds of crazy on him. It was awesome."

Giles taps his foot a moment. That was not the story he had gotten from Buffy, though he doubted that anything was being deliberately kept from him. Someday, perhaps soon now that the baleful influence of his father was out of the picture, that boy will realize that he is, and has always been, more than he thinks.

"Of course, Xander. If you don't mind I would like to run the tests on both of you anyway if I may. It is my intention to ask everyone over tonight after patrol, would that be acceptable?"

"Sure, G. Missy and I will be there with bells on! Look, I gotta go, I need to start dinner for Joyce and the munchkin. See you tonight after Buffy gets done being the Buffinator."

Giles rolls his eyes. "Tonight then. Be safe."

>>>>

Walking into the Bronze at eight was not quite everything he had hoped it might be. Sure, he wasn't worried about being something's lunch. Or at least, he was less worried about it. Seeing Oz's band play and even just the atmosphere was a breath of fresh air. Well, more a breath of stale and roach-laden air, but it was air from the Bronze and the nostalgia factor here was high enough to dull some of the less wonderful bits. But it didn't change the fact that thanks to liberal use of not entirely legal identification he now had three months of experience working in a place that made the Bronze look unbelievably tame. Kind of boring with a side order of blah. Thankfully, he isn't here to view the scenery here any more than he was there.

As he looks around the room he eventually sees Willow sitting at a table waving him over while Buffy smiles in his direction. It seems like a friendly smile. Xander has been tricked by this smile before though. It might be friendly. Probably is. It might also be the prelude to a snipe fest about Missy that will last all night. He chooses to hope for the best and walks over smiling himself with a lopsided Xander smirk, patent-pending. When he gets close Willow hops up and gives him a big hug. "So good to see you. Meant to do this earlier, but you left before I got a chance."

Xander's smile softens as a well of genuine affection for his red-haired friend overwhelms his misgivings about Buffy's stance.

"So how are my favorite bipedal girls doing?" Xander's voice is a little muffled as he is backing off from giving Willow a kiss on her forehead.

Buffy frowns slightly. "Bipedal?"

Xander gives her another smirk. "Well, a guy is allowed to love his dog, ain't he?"

Buffy groans. Then offers an attempt at a smile. "Talked to Giles like you said. You were right, he isn't a hundred percent sure it won't end in tears, but he gave you the watcher stamp of approval." She offers a partial shrug by way of apology. "Just please, if anything seems to be going wonky, let us know? His biggest worry was that we didn't really know what the long term might be, as there was no predicament to go from."

Willow smiles. "I think you mean precedent, Buffy. No worries, easy mistake."

Buffy rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Where is Super-Mutt, anyway? I figured that you would bring her in with your cane and glasses and whatnot. I had like a dozen blind guy jokes all lined up."

Xander gets a half grin that doesn't really meet his eyes. "Hey Buff, do me a favor? I named her Missy. She is more than capable of understanding you and is like a year and a half old in dog years, with a thousand times the self-image issues of a thirteen-year-old girl. You know, being that every other intelligent creature on the planet is either human or evil, for the most part. It would mean a lot to me if you would get used to using her name. Please."

Buffy nods her head slowly. This is a little odd, Xander is usually the first one to give people funny nicknames. But it is also exactly what Giles expected. Xander plus something he feels responsible for. For some ridiculous reason the idea that he would make wonderful father skitters through her mind. Where the hell did that come from?

"Sure Xand, I'll try. No promises, you know how we are. But I'll try. But seriously though, where is she?"

Xander reaches over to steal a cheese fry from willow. "She doesn't really like clubs like this. She is getting better as she gets older, but the combination of too much noise, too many smells, and too many people really stresses her out. I left her with your Mom and Dawn. I imagine she is giving doggy-back rides right now or maybe trying to beg for leftovers. It was steak night."

Buffy looks somewhere between shocked and enraged. "Why the hell did you leave that thing at my Mom's house? What the hell, Xander!?"

Xander looks confused. "Because I am staying there. Dawn loves her, and your Mom thinks she's great. What's the problem?"

Her look is still part shocked, but the rage has dropped to irritation and confusion. "Why are you staying at my house? What is wrong with your place?"

Unknown to them, the tables near them had quieted to listen in. Everybody loves drama. Sadly, once that happens it becomes obvious that Oz and his band have finished their set, as most of the place hears Xander's next words.

"Yeah, well, I needed a place to stay. Some asshole killed my parents while I was out of town and the bank sold the house out from under me."

The noise level in the room drops until you could hear a mouse fart in the walls. Xander looks around at the shocked sympathy from people he barely remembers going to school with and the currently tearing up face of Willow. Glances past Buffy's shock that is melting into concern, and decides that tonight isn't a good night for the Bronze after all.

"I, I think I am going to skip patrol tonight Buffy. I'll see you peeps at Giles' place around eleven or so. He told you about the meet-up, right?"

It takes a few moments for Willow to gather her thoughts and realize that Xander has asked a question, but when she does she nods. "Yeah, we'll meet you there." Then she stands and gives him another hug. This one is geared less for a happy reunion and more to convey a depth of caring. She buries her face in his shoulder and holds him tight, not wanting to let him go. But she does, before things can get too awkward.

The place stays all but silent until the door closes as Xander leaves the building.

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 7
Missy Unleashed.

>>>>>

If Mommy was here, life would be perfect, she decides with a happy but slightly annoyed exhale. Missy is pretty sure that Mommy is not doing anything that would be all that important. Mommy really should be here, with the Pack. The pack should stay together.

But her directions were very clear. She is to stay here and make sure that the Joy Mother and the Dawn Patrol are safe, defend the Pack, and then Mommy will be back later and they will go out. The Joy Mother is on the soft chair, slowly sipping a strange glass of something purple. She looks up and smiles at Missy now and again, and it makes Missy very happy.

Missy is curled up on a comfy couch and has made sure to only lay on the parts covered by the white cloth as she was told. The Dawn Patrol is laid out next to her, curled slightly and using Missy as a pillow as she fades in and out of sleep while watching the flashy picture box. Missy nuzzles her once in a while and gives her little tiny licks. Something deep inside her makes her want to do this. Makes her want all the members of her Pack to be comfortable being close to her. Comfortable with her smell. Willing to trust her. To accept her as a member of the Pack. She needs it like green things need water. After a slightly more aggressive lick, the Dawn Patrol giggles and turns until her head is facing more towards the couch than the flashy box, her arms latching onto Missy in a hug that doesn't reach all the way around, but still makes Missy feel very accepted.

She is getting better at understanding people besides Mommy when Mommy isn't around. But she still has a long way to go before she can understand what the Dawn Patrol murmurs as she falls asleep. She can kind of understand the words. But she feels that this is one of those instances where there is more to the words than is easily understood because otherwise, she didn't make much sense at all. But when the Joy Mother's eyes go wide at hearing it, wide and speculative, with a ghost of a smile, Missy decides that she will have to try to remember and ask Mommy when Mommy gets back.

It's strange, that Mommy would want to be so far away. She can still sense Mommy, of course. She knows Mommy is okay. There was a minute of awkwardness a little bit ago, but it passed quickly and there didn't seem to be any danger. She tried to send Mommy strength in case Mommy needed it, but she got back a sense of calm, which is Mommy's way of telling her not to worry. So she stopped.

The Joy Mother glances at her wrist and sighs. She picks up the black clicky hand thingy and points it at the flashy picture box, making it go dark. She stands and takes two steps towards the couch, then leans over to ruffle the Dawn Patrol. Missy sighs. She is so comfortable, and it feels so good to lay with the Pack, but the Joy Mother is the Matriarch and the Matriarch's word is law. Mommy might be Matriarch someday, but Missy knows that time is not yet. She has seen how the Joy Mother comforts Mommy, and how Mommy defers to the Joy Mother, even to baring the soft underbelly in supplication the first morning after they got here, an act that made the Joy Mother very happy. As brave and powerful as Mommy is, it amazes Missy that Mommy would let someone else lord over them, so she can only assume that the Joy Mother's power is immense.

As the Dawn Patrol is mumbling plaintively, Missy is suddenly jarred to full alertness by a smell wafting in through the small window fan that has been cooling her shaggy form for an hour since the Joy Mother, in her mercy, turned it on.

It is the Spike. The Spike is here the Spike would dare? The Spike needs to die Mommy said the Spike is a badman and needs to die!

As she is thinking this and struggling to her feet, hampered by not wanting to hurt the Dawn Patrol, the huge picture window in the front room shatters, and a strange rectangular rock with a bit of paper stuck to it hits the Joy Mother in her head, producing a sickening thudding sound and causing the Joy Mother to be covered in and laying on millions of shards of broken glass, unconscious and bleeding.

All of this happens so fast that Missy isn't even sure what to do. Then the Dawn Patrol screams. Missy looks at her shocked face, already screwing up into tears as she seems to almost fall forward in slow motion towards a veritable pond of broken glass. That face, and the fact that the Joy Mother has hit the ground like a sack of meat, causes rage in Missy the likes of which she has never felt before.

Leaping out of the window, she can see down the road a trio of people, one suspiciously with a hook for a hand, passing beneath a streetlight. Giving chase in her odd, almost galloping way as her forelegs are significantly larger than her back legs, her demon hard nails kick up sparks from the concrete and asphalt. She growls a bit as she runs, but that quickly gives way to a cackling laugh as the joy of the pursuit and her father's parentage more fully become one with her thoughts. She can see the trio getting into a car a block ahead of her.

It is sad, she thinks as she closes the distance in a couple of seconds, well before they can even get the car running. But if the car didn't want this to happen to it, the car wouldn't serve the Badmans.

She can't see into the car, but she knows that one got in the backseat on the left, so she starts there. Leaping onto the trunk of the car, a jab with her paw shatters the rear window. Inside the car, she can hear someone that sounds a little like the voice from the sewer earlier today say: "Bollocks."

Sticking her snout in, she grabs the one in the back by the head in her jaws and crushes while pulling back. She can hear the vampire in her jaws letting out a gurgling scream, and she can feel it frantically beating on her head, pulling out hair. Pulling harder and harder, she finally hears a popping sound, and her mouth is full of icky dust. She was expecting it this time though, and a strong cough after the fact clears out all but the horrible taste.

Unfortunately, the driver chooses this moment to stomp on the gas, and without any purchase to hold on to, Missy finds herself falling off the back of the car as it tears off down the road. Landing on her back, she scrambles back to her feet and gives chase again, cackling as she does so. This is fun! This is hunting! This is retribution for the Pack! This is... The Joy mother is hurt. The Dawn Patrol, a cub, is alone. She increases her speed. She has to catch the car. The Spike must die.

>>>>

It was such a simple idea, he thinks. Grab a couple of minions, threaten the Slayers family, sucker them all into a big steel trap full of explosives, blow it up, and sift through the remains for the indestructible ring. It was almost poetic in its simplicity, and blasting them to pieces would make him feel a lot better about losing all the important bits off of one of his arms. So how did it go so damn wrong? Leroy, his slightly less than utterly worthless minion, is practically fainting in fear. "What the fuck is that thing, Spike? You never said nothing about no goddamn tank dogs!"

Spike rolls his eyes and he drives, working the shifter with his hook as though he had been wearing it for years. As he had been driving since the advent of the Model T, he can only assume that long experience has helped his skills. "Quit your whining or you can get out and walk, you damn poof."

The man's eyes bug out as he considers the consequences of this. "Spike, the thing is gaining on us!"

Jamming his foot on the gas again after nearly crashing in the last turn, Spike snarls back through gritted teeth. "I am doing seventy, what more do you want? This shite car can't leap over the other crap in the road like the mutt can, and the damn thing closes the distance every time I have to turn."

Spike then hauls the wheel hard to the right, making a turn into the UC Sunnydale campus, and then stomps on the gas again. Hopping off the road and onto the green slows him down a little, but it is the quickest way to get through the campus and there is no way they are going to lose the mutt here. Dodging a few trees slows him down further though, and just as he is finally getting back into a residential area, he sees a flash of fur and teeth out of the corner of his right eye, and then suddenly the thing is smashing through the passenger window, tearing into Leroy like a chainsaw into a rack of lamb.

Spike doesn't even bother to stop the car, he just dives out the driver's side, rolls, and leaps over an eight-foot privacy fence on the far side.

It takes Missy only a few seconds to shred this vampire badly enough that it can't fight back and then tearing at its throat for a few extra seconds and a snap through the spine finally does the damage needed to cause it to dust. She looks up just in time to see the Spike Badman vanish over a high fence and is after him in less than a heartbeat. Her leap, a running leap at forty miles per hour turns out to be more than enough to not only clear the wall but also land her in the middle of the pool that was on the other side. Spike uses this opportunity to slip away.

Or at least, that was the plan.

As he jogs down the street towards a manhole cover, he sees someone ahead of him on the street. Human. A big guy. Healthy. Out for a stroll, bopping along without a care in the world. Hands behind his back even. Spike decides to make a meal out of him, maybe a few meals if he survives. Ten feet from the manhole. Two feet from the man. He can still hear the stupid mutt fumbling about in the pool. But when he makes his move, all of a sudden he is wracked with pain, and then everything goes dark.



Riley Finn calls in the retrieval vehicle, known jokingly as the 'Meat Wagon' to pick up the latest HST they have secured. As soon as the panel van has crossed the street and the doors are once again shut on the prize, the vehicle leaves to make its delivery. Elapsed time, less than twelve seconds.

As he is getting ready to disappear back into the shadows, he sees that overpowered canine hop back over the fence. It seems to be trying to pick up the trail and comes over towards where Finn is at a lazy trot, nose inches from the ground.

Finn has a deer in the headlights moment. They knew to come to this location because they had been watching Spike, or "Hostile 17" since his car made it back on the school property. He knows well what this animal is capable of. His only backup is at least twenty seconds away now that the truck is gone, which is at least fourteen more seconds than this thing would need. They have no idea if the taser rifle will even work on this thing.

>>>>

Missy is so mad at herself. Mommy always says to look before you leap. She always, always says that. But then Missy got all excited and she didn't and she fell in the icky water pond that tastes all bad and the badman got away. She follows the scent across the street to a man dressed in black. He has a funny thingy in his hand and his face is mostly covered. She can smell the badman on him, but only from his hands. He must have attacked the Badman she decides. But since she doesn't smell the badman dust here, the badman must have gotten away. She checks the area for a moment, and the scent trail just stops here. It's very confusing. The man starts backing away, so Missy walks over to him and sits.

He stops. His eyes go wide.

She makes the laughing bark of her kind, sounding like mirth being drug out of a demonic steel drum. He still doesn't move. Missy huffs out a very annoyed breath.

The man slowly raises his arm and puts it under her nose. She sniffs it delicately and then gives it a little lick. Mommy isn't here, but Missy decides that this man hasn't been mean or anything, so while he is most certainly not Pack, he doesn't seem to like the Badmans either and knows how to be nice. The man gives her a little scratch behind her ears but stops when she lets out another laughing call. Then Missy goes home because the Badman got away and the Joy Mother and the Dawn Patrol might need her.

>>>>

Riley Finn. Agent of the Initiative and Army Ranger, is used to being the baddest guy in any room he occupies. For all that he tries to be as nice and humble as he can and still do his job. Still, he lets out a breath that he hadn't realized he was even holding. Then he smiles as the animal disappears into the darkness. Whoever that man was on the tape, he had beaten them to the punch by breeding that creature. That magnificent HST killing monstrosity. They are going to have to find a way to get him on board as a civilian consultant. Given how good the training on the animal seems to be, Riley gives it fair odds that he is a military or maybe police dog trainer or handler. He'll have to mention it to Walsh. Then his radio starts talking at him.

"Echo 1, this is Echo 3. I have a shot. Am I cleared to take it?"

That would be Graham Miller, who was spending the op tonight in the clock tower with a sniper rifle. While it doesn't seem that bullets can actually kill these things, testing has shown that a high caliber round through the brainpan does wonders to get them to stop running so damn fast. But it is an emergency measure only. They can't afford the exposure.

"Negative, Echo 3. Negative. I think we are done for the night. Time for paperwork."

There is a few seconds of dead air. Then: "Begging your pardon Echo 1, but what the hell was that?"

Riley smiles. He knows what Miller wants. Miller wants to know what the hell kind of HST was just standing right next to him. He has probably not had a chance to review this afternoon's tape.

He decides to take the question in a different direction as a wide grin breaks out over his face. "I can't be certain, Echo 3. But it felt like the equivalent of a fist bump, one soldier to another, for a job well done. I have something to show you back at ops. Over and out."

 

[Andorxor]

Plot Nazis and a Vampire Holy Grail. We just need an archeologist, and we have Indiana Jones 3

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 8
Willy the Bean Spiller Spills Dem Beans.

>>>>

'Why is there always so much colored baby shit green in a hospital?'

Xander can't help but wonder about it as he sits on a chair outside of Joyce's room. Showing up at the house to see Dawn in a panic on the phone with a 911 operator, the front window broken in, and Joyce unconscious on the floor was not the way he wanted to end the evening, that is for sure. Missy had shown up a few minutes later, soaked to the bone and smelling strongly to him of chlorine, dead vampires, and the lingering stench of burned tire rubber. Between that and the note he had collected from the damned brick that had hit Joyce, he had a fair idea what Missy had been up to. It took only a couple of quick queries though to determine that Spike had once again slipped the net somehow and gotten away.

Xander made a call to Giles so they would know to come to the hospital when they got done with the patrol. Then he drove Dawn to the hospital, following the Ambulance.

Then three hours of being miserable in a waiting room with Dawn crying on his lap and Missy sending periodic mental whimpers from the car, trying to find all-new ways to apologize for letting the matriarch get hurt on her watch, despite his best efforts to put her mind at ease. Through it all, a little ball of rage in the back of his mind occasionally flares up when he thinks about that note he pulled off the brick.

>>>>

Hey Slayer!

Meet me at the warehouse on the end of Pier 8
midnight tomorrow or next time I stop by to
say hi I am bringing a shotgun to the party.

Bring my ring.

Loves and kisses,
Spike.

P.S. Bring the mutt also. Or just the head off it.
P.P.S. Bring Droopy boy too. I owe him some time
in the hospital.

>>>>

Unfortunately, given the images Missy gave him when she returned he doesn't even know if this note is still accurate. Spike probably didn't include wrecking his car and losing two minions in his plans for the night. The commotion at the door to the waiting room has him looking up. Buffy and the gang, including Willow, Oz, and Giles are all piling in, and Dawn gets up and starts crying all over again as she all but staggers over to Buffy.

Buffy looks at Xander in hurt confusion, her face pinched in worry and fear for her mother. "What happened, Xander?"

Given the amount of crap she had given him the last couple of times they had met, it is nice that when the chips are down she still trusts him enough to give him the benefit of the doubt at least. Getting up and digging into his pocket for the note, he hands it to her. "Found that wrapped around the brick that came through the window. Hit Joyce in the head. I don't know how hard Spike threw it exactly, but it must have been a fastball because it laid her out as near as I can tell from the scene. The doctor says she has a fractured skull and a lot of blood loss, partly due to the brick and partly due to all the glass. She got pretty cut up I guess. Missy ran down Spike and his stooge crew, killed his henches but the bleached wonder got away somewhere over by campus again."

Buffy takes a minute to read the note, then crushes it in her hand. "I need to find Spike. Xander, could you, ya' know, stay here? Watch out for my family?" The look in her eye promises pain for Spike even as her face is still set in a mask of worry.

Xander is all set to say yes, but the soldier in him balks. "You really should stay here, Buffy. Dawn needs you. There might be papers to sign for procedures and stuff for your mom. What were you going to do? I'll check it out for you. Well, Missy and I will, anyway."

Buffy quirks her head to one side. Given what she saw earlier, Xander might actually be able to handle Willy's place. But without the reputation of the Slayer, can he get the little weasel to talk, that's the question. In the end, she agrees that if possible she needs to stay here.

"Okay, Xander. We'll try it your way. I need you to go down and talk to Willy, the guy behind the counter at Willy's Alibi room." She jots down the address on a piece of paper that Willow offers. "Be careful, Xander. The Alibi Room is a demon bar. The weasel that runs it hears all the good gossip that runs in demon circles but doesn't like to share unless he is bleeding profusely or he is being given a lot of money. Since we don't have that kind of cash, we usually have to pay by way of beating him. The customers don't generally give me a hard time, but I'm the Slayer. I came pre-packaged with a reputation they don't like to mess with most of the time. You'll need to come on pretty damn strong to get in and out without trouble, even with Missy, and Xander?"

He nods through all of this, and then at her questioning tone looks down to meet the eyes of the shorter woman. "Yeah Buff?"

"Be careful, and if things start to go sideways get out of there. I don't want to have you in here for any reason other than to support my mom."

Xander gives her a sad smile and a hug. "Hell Buffy, if friends are family you make for yourself, she's my mom too. Believe me, he'll talk."

He gives Oz and Giles quick nods as well as hugs for Dawn and Willow. On his way out of the room, he can hear Dawn asking her sister about him. "Buffy, how come hugging Xander feels like hugging Missy?"

>>>>

Stopping by the house to root around in his room for the tools of the trade took longer than it might have because the cops still had somebody watching the house. Having to park in the alley and come in the back was muchly annoying. Xander decides then and there that something was going to have to happen towards him getting either multiple armories or kitting out his car so this doesn't happen again.

>>>>

Missy is pretty excited when Mommy gets back to the car. After Mommy tells her what they need to do, she gets it right away. They need to go into the den of another Pack and beat up the Alpha there until he squeals out whatever Mommy needs to hear. Dominating another Pack and forcing it to be subservient is something that sings loudly and cleanly through all parts of her. When they arrive at the location, Mommy asks for strength and then asks Missy to stay in the car and listen for Mommy. As soon as Mommy needs her, Missy is to come in fighting. Missy gives Mommy a face lick for good luck and hunkers down to wait. If this other pack is smart, they'll just tell Mommy what Mommy needs to know.

It has to be said: Missy kinda hopes they're dumb.

>>>>

Stepping into the Alibi Room is a little like stepping into the twilight zone, he notes as he swings the door open and gets his first good look. An awful lot of crazy that is pretending to be normal, but not being all that serious about it. The bouncer at the door gives him a nod and looks him over. He raises an eyebrow at the machete Xander has strapped to his leg and the three wooden stakes strapped to the other. Whether that is because of the items themselves or the fact that Xander is obviously not bothering to try to hide any of it is anybody's guess. The place isn't very large, with most of it easily visible from the front door. Xander can see the barkeep, a short, slender, dark-haired individual. There are probably twelve patrons visible, plus the bouncer at the door.

The room looks to be wall-to-wall vampires other than the barkeep. Who is probably Willy based on the descriptions he has heard. And the bouncer. Who is some kind of cross between a Wookie and a lobster, and around seven feet tall.

Walking up to Willy purposefully, Xander sits at the counter and waves him over.

"Nice getup kid." He mentions, looking at the weapons strapped to Xander's legs as he does. "But you are gonna need to flash some ID before I can serve you anything but water and what comes out of the soda fountain. What'll it be?"

The ridiculousness of the statement floors Xander. "You'll serve bipedal mosquitoes' blood by the pint but you wouldn't give me a shot of Jack because it's against the law? Are you freaking kidding me here?"

The noise level in the bar drops considerably at this outburst, and Willy looks around the room with his eyes wide, going pale under the harsh light behind the bar. "Hey, look kid, I don't want no trouble here, alright? If you got some kinda death wish take it outside."

Xander can sense the bouncer casually walking this way. Unhurried. He guesses he has about twelve seconds before things are going to really go to hell.

He whistles for Missy.

The near three hundred pounds worth of demonic hyena-mastiff hybrid comes through the front doors like a wrecking ball through a chicken coop, hitting the back of the hairy lobster guy hard enough to drive him to the floor on his face. The entire place becomes a frenzy of movement as the other bar patrons panic when they get a look at her, piling into the back towards the access to the underground as though they were expecting the place to explode.

Willy steps back a pace, looking as though he wants to scream but can't quite wrap his mind around how to do that right this second. "Sweet merciful shit Harris, you're the one that owns that thing?!"

Xander looks a bit confused. "Nobody 'owns' Missy. She's my partner. But fuck that anyway, how the hell do you know my name?"

As scared as he looks, Willy still can't help but roll his eyes. "Damn, Harris. Everybody who's anybody knows who you are. You're the Slayer's go-to guy when she comes across something that she can't solve by hitting it."

Xander's shocked expression causes Willy to look at him with a little confusion of his own. "The rocket that took out the Judge? Facing down Angelus when he paid a call on the Slayer while she was sick? The explosives that took out the Mayor? Hell, rumor has it that you even flatlined that idiot O'Toole and his zombie freak squad when the Sisterhood was in town and all your buddies were busy. Based on what I overhear the demons with a little seer juice talk about, you've done more to keep the Slayer alive in the last few years than the watchers have in the last hundred. Everybody knows who you are. Most of 'em who matter leave you alone because they don't wanna piss off the Slayer, but the ones who really know the score stay out of your way because they don't want their house to mysteriously blow the fuck up at high noon sometime. Now with you getting a damn guard dog..."

Xander has been turning paler and paler. "How did everybody here know about Missy?"

Willy just shakes his head with a slight grin, though the fear doesn't leave his eyes as his bouncer makes an attempt to stand and the jaws clamp down on the back of his neck. Hard enough to draw blood, though not kill. "Sorry kid, nothing in the world travels faster than gossip. I've been hearing about a cross-town running battle between your mutt here and Spike with two of his besties all night, and the rumors don't paint a pretty picture for mister Bloody, William, The. I don't have all the details obviously, but based on what I heard your pooch here ran down their car, dusted two for sure and nobody has heard from any of 'em since. Now, ah, as fun as all this is, did you actually have a reason for coming in? I gotta make a living ya' know."

"Yes, he did." The voice comes from the door. It is hesitant, but not weak. It is Buffy unsure of herself. It is a side of Buffy that Xander has rarely heard outside of romance issues or her own possible demise.

As Xander and Willy turn towards the door, Xander can't help but be a little annoyed. She said she was going to trust him with this. One look on the faces there causes all annoyance to fade to nothing. Buffy and Giles are standing there, Buffy having been the one who spoke. She looks more than a little bemused.

Suddenly Xander blushes. "Umm, how long were you two standing there?"

Buffy shakes her head, though she is starting to get a smile on her face that makes the whole room feel warmer than it did just a few minutes ago. Giles is just grinning, though he is holding the bridge of his nose while he does it.

"Long enough to get the idea that maybe I didn't need to worry about you needing to build a reputation. Long enough for that, Xander." Buffy responds, a vicious and infectious smile giving Xander strength. "We came down because mom is, or rather was awake. The doctor said there was something on the scans they wanted to look closer at, so they are gonna keep her for a few days until the swelling in her head goes down. But they said she is out of the woods and able to sign her own life away."

Xander can't help but smile at that. Then he turns to Willy. "Willy, I am in a good mood. I don't want to spend a lot of time here in this good mood because the shithole isn't gonna help me keep this good mood. So you are gonna tell me where Spike has been calling home lately, or I am gonna feed your balls to Missy. Normally I would discourage a meal this late, but I am guessing it won't be much more than a snack anyway."

Willy stammers, his voice in tatters as it tries to form. "W-W-Wareh-house. O-on Pines. The one w-w-with the r-rred garage door."

Xander turns fully towards Buffy and Giles, snapping his fingers, which seems to cause Missy to release and pad by his side. "I know you're not lying to me, Willy. I know because it's always high noon somewhere. You got me?"

Willy starts to crouch behind the counter. "Yeah Harris, I got ya."

>>>>

They do find a vamp nest at the warehouse that was specified, and with no vampires there the three of them poke around it for clues while Missy keeps an eye out from the comfort of the convertible.

"So, Xander. You guarded me at the hospital?"

He doesn't look up, instead continuing to poke around through a pile of old books. "Yeah. Couldn't leave you there alone. Too vulnerable. Angelus stopped by with some flowers and an intent to kill, I just talked him out of it. No big."

Buff stops, staring at Xander's back. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Xander, still not really paying attention as he is reading through a passage concerning the ring of Amara in a bunch of notes he has found, again responds with perhaps a bit more truthfulness than he might have if he was really paying attention. "You and Willow were always trying to sideline me away from things, especially if it involved Angel. I didn't want to give you any more ammo. Same reason I didn't tell you about O'Toole, though in that case, it didn't have anything to do with Angel, more that you were both trying to kick me to the curb altogether. Kick me out of the Scoobies."

Buffy looks like someone is dancing the Can-Can all over her grave. "What happened with the O'Toole thing?"

Xander answers, though his tone is getting slightly annoyed. Can't she see he is trying to read? Talk about poor timing for a third-degree, trying to loot a maybe not quite abandoned vamp nest and she needs the 'splainy now?

"He had some trick that was letting him raise all of his dead buddies into slightly intelligent zombies. Able to talk and stuff, anyway. They decided to blow up the high school with a fertilizer bomb the same night the sisterhood opened the Hellmouth. I stopped it. There were only four or five of them anyway. No biggie. Well, not gonna lie, at the time I was scared out of my mind. But it all worked out."

Giles decides to break in at this point. "Xander, why didn't you ask for help? That could have ended the world if it had gone off. Not the time to be taking chances."

Xander, finally done with the paragraph and running the conversation back through his mind before he answers, starts to blush before he responds. "Well, umm... Actually, I kinda did. But Buffy and Angel were pretty, umm... emotional at the time. I guess the awkwardness of trying to explain a zombie terrorist with a fertilizer bomb didn't measure up to the potential end of the world Slayer drama. They both gave me a look that made me want to crawl in a hole and subsist off of my own hair and toenails. Soooo, I left. Handled it myself."

At the look from Giles, he adds a bit. "Sorry. I'll try not to do it again."

Buffy looks down. She remembers that night well. After the fact, when things had calmed a bit, she and Angel had joked about what 'that dumb-ass Harris' (his words) could have possibly needed that night that was important enough to bother them. Well, now she knows. It was important enough. Just like everything else Willy had blathered on about. They were all important enough, and in all of them as well as any number of other situations he had been involved in that had saved her life or the whole world, with her just thrown in as a bonus.

In fact, giving it some thought she wonders how much of her distrust of Xander's condition and skills come directly from her parroting the emotions of Angel, even knowing that they would be biased as the two hated each other. Apparently, she had some thinking to do. But first... "Xander, just in case I haven't said it recently, I do want to say thank you for all the things you do that help me. I know I am not always the easiest girl to be around, and I will try to fix that if I can. But I am thankful. You know that, right?"

Xander just smiles. "Yeah. I know."

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 9
The Answer, My Dear, is a Resounding No.

>>>>

'I still can't believe the bastard didn't bother to show up', Xander grumbles in his mind as he makes his way back to Joyce and Dawn's house. Spike having chosen to ignore his own note, though annoying, doesn't quite kill the general good feeling of the day.

He had managed to replace the window with some time, effort, and a few minutes picking the brain of the guy at the hardware store. Fortunately the window was a standard size which made things a lot easier. Cleaned up the glass as best as he could, then shampooed the carpets, and finally bought and placed an area rug over the spot most likely to still have a few slivers. They can replace the carpets if Joyce wants to, but she should get to choose the style. Her house after all. Beyond that, there really isn't a whole lot that he can do to prepare for her arrival back from the hospital, which should be tomorrow if today's scans come out okay.

Buffy has decided to say to hell with dorm life and has moved back into her room. She tried to sell it to her mother that it would be cheaper to live at home, but everybody knows that she just wants to be close enough to hopefully be there if some idiot tries something like this again. The polite fiction of her deciding to be frugal is adhered to, but Dawn offers extra hugs to her sister anyway.

Giles and Buffy have both talked to him since the Alibi room. Buffy simply makes an effort to get to know him again without the brooding influence of her ex's derisive gallows humor flavoring everything she sees. Giles because it has become obvious to him that the boy has taken on responsibilities more than once that could easily have gotten him or others killed, and even though the Watchers Council has forsaken him he still feels that it would be a disservice to the struggle against the darkness not to take note in his latest journal the trials and tribulations of the formerly powerless Scoobie.

Yet even with everything that has happened in the last few days, the weirdest thing by far is waiting for him in the basement bedroom he is now using at Joyce's place. Opening the door and flipping on the light, then allowing Missy to slip past him goes as planned. After that everything gets a little bit off the intended script. Missy growls and leaps onto the bed, calling out a warning in her barking laugh. When Xander turns over there, already reaching for his military issue style machete, his mouth opens in shock.

Missy is currently snapping her jaws as she continues her laughing, mocking bark mere inches from the tender flesh of a terrified Anya. Who is currently screaming bloody murder.

Xander's mind drifts swiftly back to prom night when he took the thousand-plus-year-old ex-vengeance demon who specialized in tormenting unfaithful men. Well, men in general, really. Based on some of the stories she told them all her mind was a champion at rationalization as long as the end result was unpleasant for some poor schmuck. She had hung around for a while, but skipped town just before graduation, having decided that their odd against Mayor McDinosnake weren't good enough to stick around for. To say that Xander is shocked to see her is an understatement. But the fact that she is here wearing, as near as he can figure, a towel...

Well, that makes the whole situation even more surreal. Sending a quick message to Missy trying to get her to calm down gets the mental equivalent of a raspberry in his ear, and the closest that Missy will come to accommodating is to stop growling and sit down in a posture that seems to indicate she is determining which cuts of meat would be best for breakfast tomorrow. Deciding that Missy has the situation under control, Xander turns around to face the door.

"So, Anya. Love the new threads. Is there a reason you broke into my room basically naked?"

He can hear that she attempts to move, and apparently Missy didn't like that because she snaps her jaws once and Anya's movement stops. Her voice is shaking when she does respond.

"Xander, do you think you could call off your dog?"

He can't help but grin as he gives Missy a mental heads up and she follows him out of the room. "Get your clothes on, I'll meet you in the living room. Want some tea?"

As always, Anya manages to shock him with just how quickly she can shift gears. In a pleasant voice that is so chipper that he can practically see the smile, she answers. "Oh, yes. That would be nice, thank you."

It takes her a few minutes to get upstairs and she sits in the recliner across from Missy, who has decided to enjoy her spot on the couch. The two look at each other. Anya's eyes somewhat narrowed. Missy's teeth that ever so slightly bared. A few minutes after that, Xander brings out a few teabags of various kinds, a hot teapot, some sugar cubes, and a couple of cups on a tray. Setting it down on the coffee table, he then makes his cup, adds in enough sugar to qualify it as a dentist's worst nightmare, and sits next to Missy after motioning Anya to make her cup as she sees fit. Once they are both sitting there for a few minutes, and the awkwardness grows to monolithic proportions, Xander speaks.

"So, good to see you. Again, help me here, why were you in my room naked?"

Anya seems almost confused at the question now that she isn't dealing with an enraged Missy. "Honestly Xander, I would think that would be obvious. I intended for us to have sex. I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since prom, and it seemed likely that if you gave me a few orgasms I could get this stupidity out of my system and get on with what passes for my life now."

He manages not to do a spit take at the word "orgasms" but it is a lot closer than he would ever admit to anybody. "You know, the amazing part here is that was still a more romantic proposal than I got from Faith. No. Just no."

Anya looks upset, and that switches almost instantly to a moderate amount of anger. "Is it because I am not attractive to you? Or are you biased against me because I am a former vengeance demon?"

Xander just shakes his head. "The second one, believe me. You are plenty attractive. But look, you spent over a thousand years doing horrible things to guys just because some girl was pissed off at them. I am sure that in a lot of cases it was probably even justified. But that kind of life would have to mess with you. Say we did get together. Had fun. Caught a few movies together, maybe. Had some sex. Then say we went to the mall and I said some other girl looked hot in skin-tight leather jeans. What would you do?"

Without missing a beat and with a cheerful chirp in her voice, she answers. "I would curse your penis to become erect in instead of out, and for it to attack your testicles from that position any time you became erect until the pain knocked you unconscious."

Xander puts down his cup of tea, trying to figure out how that would even work for a few seconds. "Well, the creative evil award certainly goes to you. But yeah, that response right there is exactly why I do not want to have a romantic relationship with you. Sorry."

She shakes her head as though trying to disregard stupidity. "I don't want a relationship. I just want sex. There is no need to ever go to the mall for that, so your example would never happen. Your penis and testicles would be safe."

Xander hangs his head and holds his nose. Oddly, he almost wishes he had glasses to polish, the G-man might be on to something there. Fantastic delaying tactic. "Yeah, no. Look, I am flattered, really. After you have been human for a few more years, if we are both still single and you want to try a date, maybe we can think about it. But right now my answer is gonna be a big no. You can't get upset at what I do in our relationship if we don't have one."

She again looks confused. "First of all, I already told you that I don't want a relationship. I just want orgasms. Second, you can't say no to me. You are the male. The males sometimes need to be punished for being male, but they never say no. Are you broken? Or homosexual?"

Xander counts to ten. "The answer is no. The answer will always be no and thank you for reminding me that males deserve punishment for being male, that really lets me figure out exactly where I stand with this. How did you get in my room anyway?"

She waves a hand towards the stairs. "Buffy let me in after I told her I was here to have sex with you. She seemed to think it might be good for you."

There is the sound of the stairs creaking a couple of times as somebody attempts to make a stealthy getaway. Xander is less than completely thrilled but is loath to make his female friends think he doesn't appreciate them trying to set him up.

"Well, I am sorry if she gave you the wrong idea. I am more than happy to be a friend. But I don't intend to do anything more with you tonight. I really don't want another one-night stand. I want a relationship that means something. I'm sorry that isn't what you want to hear. But it is definitely the answer. If you need a place to stay for the night, you are welcome to use the couch here, or my room. I can crash on the couch if you like."

At this point, Anya's eyes are starting to tear up a little, but she nods, and her pain doesn't reach any other portion of her face. "I will stay in your room then. I guess. Thank you for the place to stay. If you change your mind later, I sleep nude."

"Uh, yeah. Thanks. I'll um... Certainly keep that in mind. Sleep well, Anya."

He sits on the couch staring at Missy for a few minutes, trying to decide how to explain the emotional ridiculousness that she has just witnessed, before finally deciding that he is going to hide behind the fact that she is legitimately too young and too unlikely to ever need the information for him to bother at the moment.

For Missy's part, she already understands far more than he realizes. In some ways, she understands more than he does. The answer is simple. She knows of Anya. Anya once had an opportunity to be Pack, but instead, she ran away when things became dangerous. She abandoned her Pack.

There is no greater crime to be committed than to abandon your Pack in their time of need. The idea that a former Packmate that had abandoned the Pack would expect the right to breed with an Alpha member of the tribe upon return is ridiculous. Missy isn't stupid, she knows that Mommy isn't a girl. She knows that Mommy isn't even the same species. But she also knows that as much as she learns from Mommy, Mommy also learns from her.

Stamped on every nugget of her that she passes along are the rules and the law of the Pack. Mommy will never be like her. The thought saddens her some, but it is true. Mommy is too powerful, too great, to become other than Mommy is. But Mommy can learn. Can take the information that Missy offers, and decide if it will be embraced or done away with. To Missy's great happiness, Mommy embraces almost everything that has to do with Pack. The caring, loyalty, and staunch defense of the Pack were already there, all Mommy needed was the word to put it under.

But embraced also is a mild distrust of all non-Pack. The need to establish control of home territory, and expand that territory as the Pack grows. The need to destroy that which would threaten the Pack. The bone-deep hatred of any who would dare hurt the pack. All of these and more, Mommy has embraced as good and worthy. It makes Missy so happy.

Xander considers what he needs to do long into the night as he gets comfortable on the couch, and slowly runs his fingers through her fur until, for the first time in months, they are both asleep.

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 10
Perchance, to Dream.

>>>>

Xander awoke to a pain in his foot. Stretching it once to get the cramp out, he realizes two things. First, he is laying on the ground outside and using Missy as a pillow. Second, he seems to be in a jungle and is wearing what looks to be jungle combat fatigues.

As he stands, he can feel the weight and hear the slight rattle of a dozen weapons. His machete and backup stakes are still mounted to his legs, but there is also a rifle on a strap, a fairly large combat ax on his hip combining a single blade with a heavy spike backing. His pockets and pouches contain such things as holy water in bottles, others filled with combustible substances, a few extra five-round magazines for his overbuilt rifle, and of course, a brace of pistols in shoulder holsters. Model 1911's complete with reinforced wooden hollow points and silver shot in the hollow. Not as accurate as lead, and won't reach as far. But capable of killing what he hunts.

Picking up his backpack and being more than a little concerned at how light it is as that means that he is running low on clean water and food, his mind wanders as he considers why he is here. Giving Missy a quick rubdown to work the kinks out of her muscles, and an even quicker brushing to keep her hair from becoming matted down or tangled with itself. She licks his face as she always does, loving the attention, though she does whine a little when he uses a lighter to remove a tick that had gotten to her over the night.

He knows why he is here. He is here to find a slayer. But since that would mean that a slayer had died, wouldn't that be bad?

No. No, his mind answers. The Pack is alive. This must be a dream. Or a vision? Xander hopes not. One person in the Pack having visions is plenty, thanks. Missy whines and starts heading toward the rising sun. The sending is emotional and difficult to clearly understand as it is drenched in worry. But it seems to break down to a desire to hurry up.

He nods. There is rarely a need for direct communication between Missy and himself anymore, he realizes. They have worked together for six years, three of which were on the dark continent. But have they? Yes, he answers himself. They have. He starts moving to the East in a fast, terrain-eating lope that he developed over the years. Not quite a run, more than a jog. It has been described to him by people that watch as a refined gallop, during which he scans the terrain as far ahead as a hundred feet or more and always seems to have the correct foot in the forward position when he reaches any obstacle.

Digging through memories that are new to him, he finds that there isn't much here. As if the Powers That Be are afraid to send him context. Unless this is from Janus. Or some complication with Missy? Willy said Demons could be seers... It's frustrating, not knowing what was. Will be. Whatever. But he knows what he has to do now. For some reason that he can't explain, Slayers are popping up everywhere. All over the world. When it was decided that somebody had to go to Africa to help and help them, well. There was really only one choice.

They travel through the day. The normal wildlife sometimes takes an interest in him, but always shies away. The lions risk getting closer than most, but even they seem loath to bother him. The only ones that are willing to risk getting too near are the local Hyena Pack. They approach when Missy and Xander have stopped for lunch, and after making their presence known and Missy has obtained permission, she disappears into the tall grass for a half-hour, and he can hear the sounds of a successful hunt in the distance before she returns. Her muzzle and forepaws now bloody, they locate some water in the form of a small spring that smells faintly of sulfur. After cleaning her, their trek continues.

Near dark, they found themselves near a village. Locating the trail at noon had helped immeasurably, or they might have missed it. But here they are. Skulking about the village Xander finds that he can understand their speech. Can even remember wisps of having learned it, the hard way. By immersion. So, he spends some time listening from outside the huts and gets a feel for what is going on. The cursed one that brought the devil beasts has been left in a cage on the extreme edge of the village. An offering, so that they might be left alone. Her family, who protested this, were murdered by tribal council order. Staked down bleeding and left for scavengers three days ago.

There is some worry that the devil beasts will not come before the lack of food and water, along with the heat of the midday sun, will kill the cursed one before she can be given to them. But the people are unwilling to offer food or water to the one that they believe has doomed them.

Xander uses mind speak and body language to tell Missy to patrol around the village, and to be quiet and unseen unless she sees something.

When he approaches the lonely cage, the first thing he notices is the smell. Feces and urine. The flies are thick. The naked form lays on the ground. She couldn't be more than twelve. She has been tied hand and foot with what looks to be miles of thorny vines, and the dark purple of her hands and feet would indicate that it has been some time since any significant amount of circulation has made it to her extremities. Her eyes see him. But there is no hope to be had in them. She seems to have decided to die. To end the pain, perhaps. Or simply because nobody seems to care, so she can't be bothered to either.

Using his knife, Xander cuts away the fibers that hold the cage together. Entering it, he speaks in low tones. "Hello. My name is Xander, and you are far too fine a person to die in this place. I am getting you out of here. Be silent. We leave in minutes."

Then he begins the process of cutting through the thorny vines. Removing the thorns themselves from her flesh becomes a second task, as many of them broke off in her arms and legs days ago when she still struggled. Once again Xander thanks the strange relationship he has with Missy for the better night vision he possesses, or this would be all but impossible.

He offers her some water to sip as he rubs down the affected areas with alcohol and then throws a quick field dressing on the seeping wounds. Thankfully she hasn't gotten enough circulation back into her hands and feet yet for the pain from the alcohol to do more than make her whimper.

Then he picks her up, holds her to his chest, and they leave.

He carries her until late in the next day, trying to put as much distance between them and her old home as he can. All things being equal, he would rather not have to kill them. He will if it comes to it. He has no sympathy for anybody who would be complicit in what has happened to this girl. But if it isn't needed, he could go the rest of his life never smelling their cowardly stench and die a happy man.

By that evening, as he is making camp, Missy makes her first appearance to her. She exits the jungle and crosses the small clearing they are using for the night.

The look of the deep chocolate-skinned girl's face is one of terror, and she begins whispering of the demons that hunt her, that her village had left her to die because of them. Missy rolls her eyes, walks up to her, and then lays down, with her head on her paws. There they wait for hours. One waiting for an opportunity, while the other is too frightened to move. Much later, after Xander has given up trying to calm her and has gone to sleep, asking Missy to let him know if there are any changes. The young girl closes her eyes for a second as exhaustion takes its toll. She feels a warm moistness on her foot, and when she opens them after barely holding in a scream, she can see that Missy is licking her wounds. Not aggressively. Not with teeth bared. With only an occasional apologetic whine, she moves from one leg to the other, her moist tongue offering a balm to the soreness. After that, she works on the girl's wrists. Finally, Missy lays down behind her. offering the child a place to lay her head and body heat to help against the chill of the night.

Xander smiles from beneath his hat when the breathing of the girl evens out in sleep.

It is two days before she speaks to them. When she does, Xander and Missy get only a thank you, and a name. Leal. After that, Xander always uses her name. Within a week of good food provided by scrounging as they travel and the bounty of Missy's hunts, clean filtered water, and a warm place to sleep even if it is merely a blanket and cuddled up to a giant Hyena, she is doing much better.

Before too long, she is referring to Xander as 'Baba' which he knows is 'father' in her native tongue. As her health improves, he starts her training. Training to control her strength. Weapons training, starting with staff and bow. Hand-to-hand combat, and how to kill without needing to engage in it if the risk can be avoided. He teaches her to study the enemy's tracks to learn more about them, to run when she has to, and to strike in ways that will keep her enemy off balance both physically and mentally.

He teaches her about people, and how many are evil or scared into doing evil things but that so many more are good, and worthy, and should be protected. Finally, after two months he hears a rumor he has to check out, and so he teaches her the pain of going into the unknown alone as he puts a weeping, terrified child onto an airplane at the nearest international airport he can find and sends her to London. Where she will be met by Giles and Dawn. Some other baby slayers. Where she can learn, be happy, and decide, truly decide what she wants to do with her life as she receives an education. He knows that she will be happy.

But as the plane pulls away he can't help the tears that fall, and as they start their trek back into the wild, neither Missy nor Xander is able to think of anything aside from missing their child, who called him father, called her friend, and whom they called Pack.

>>>>

Xander and Missy both awaken with a start, her whining and Xander with tears streaming across his face, the result of the most vivid dream he has ever had. A few minutes and some head speak later, he finds that Missy had the same dream.

Which means it wasn't a dream. It was likely going to really happen. Which means the slayer didn't have the market cornered on prophetic dreams anymore. He sits on the couch again idly running his hands through Missy's hair in an effort to comfort the distraught creature. She only knows that she now misses a friend, and in light of their shared experience he can think of only one thing to say. In a whisper, so as not to disturb the other residents in their slumber, he speaks.

"Well fuck me."

Missy huffs in agreement.

>>>>

It is fairly early in the morning when Buffy comes down and starts putting together breakfast, which for her is as simple as cold cereal. When Xander comes in to make some coffee, she turns his way with an embarrassed red tinge on her cheeks.

"Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I figured you might either go for it or given how Anya is, it might have been funny. I didn't expect you to be all Mr. Serious, and I really didn't intend to actually hurt anybody's feelings. She has been poking around asking for you for a week or two now, and I figured one way or another it might be good to get it out of the way."

Xander smiles. "It's okay. I get it. I'm not mad, I just can't. Not with her."

Buffy nods. "Yeah, you made some pretty good points last night. Vengeance demon that hates men, probably not the best person to go all 'friends with bennies' with."

Xander nods his head. "That was an issue, but it wasn't the only one. She left us, Buff. It got tough and she ditched to let the whole class die. Our lives spend too much time on the front line to want anybody that would do that to be part of them."

Buffy considers. "If you are going to hold out for a woman that is willing to stand next to you against an ascending demon, you might be waiting for a while, you know that right?"

Xander is now pouring a bowl of cereal of his own. "Yeah, I know. But even still, I think it is something I have to do. Say, while we are here laying out our deepest and darkest, what does a Slayer dream feel like?"

"Why, you think you might have had one?" She levels a patented Buffy smirk at him, but then her mouth drops open at the look on his face. "No way!"

Xander tries to hide his own reddening cheeks behind his cereal bowl as he slurps noisily from it. Finally Buffy composes herself.

"Well, they are all different. Mostly they have to do with fighting. Things to come that are way the bad. Mostly they are a lot like prophecy, hints that are worthless until after the fact. But they are always more clear, more real. Usually they take a toll on me the next day, too. Spend so much time trying to figure them out that they end up giving me a headache. So... What was yours?"

Xander tells her, as he is filling a bowl full of kibble for Missy. He tells her everything. From waking up in a strange place in Africa to rescuing his Leal, healing and training her. Then finally sending her away to be with other Slayers. "Don't ask me what it means, Buff. I got no idea. But it felt so real, and Missy was there with me. Usually, we can't even do that, sleep at the same time like that. Something knocked us out and made both of us experience it."

Buffy shakes her head, confused. "But why would anybody do that?"

Putting his dish in the sink, Xander turns away from her. "No clue. But I hope they knock it off. I haven't woken up crying since I was eleven. Not something I want to make a habit of."

He offers a lopsided smirk. "Bad for the tough guy image."

 

[Inbetweenaction]

Plot Nazis and a Vampire Holy Grail. We just need an archeologist, and we have Indiana Jones 3

Click to shrink...

What about Giles?

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 11
Pre-Test Jitters.

>>>>

Strange how everyday life can trump the craziness of the Hellmouth sometimes, Xander considers on his way back from the store with Dawn and Missy. It is now Saturday, and Joyce has been home for a couple of days. Understanding the need to restock the cupboards he volunteered to make the run.

Anya left the morning after she arrived. They spoke briefly, and while Xander wasn't convinced they had parted as friends he was reasonably convinced that she had left respecting him.

Given who it is, he is more than happy to take that and call it a win.

He called uncle Rory this morning to verify that he was still alive, and apparently there is a 'new' decrepit vehicle that has been 'abandoned' on the turnoff to his place. To say that it seems suspicious would be putting it mildly.

He has a job interview on Monday at two o'clock working for a local construction firm. While he has a lot of money right now, he is also already shocked at how quickly it is disappearing. Positive cash flow is definitely needed, especially considering some of the things he is looking into.

One of which should be getting delivered tomorrow, actually. It turns out that if you know where to look, and oddly enough after some time on her computer Willow sorted it out quick, it is possible to purchase old armored cars that the banks are done with. The boxy old beast from Wells Fargo is twenty years old and will bury him if he tried to go cross country with it in the fuel costs alone.

But as a mobile headquarters and armory, it should do pretty well. Throw some cameras on the roof and some screens in the back, some weapon racks, emergency supplies, maybe a fold-out cot in case somebody is hurt or just tired as hell. Vamps are tough and fast, but they don't have any special way to get through armor or bulletproof glass that doesn't involve using the same tools a person would. It is gonna set him back twenty-five grand even as old as it is and that cost may well double after getting it tuned up and the modifications are done that he wants, but hell. A mobile hard point to work out of for big disasters is so worth that.

On top of all of that, in two hours he is supposed to meet the gang down at the store that Giles now owns, "The Magic Box." Partially to help him get set up, stock shelves, and whatever. But also to finally conduct all these tests on him and Missy that got sidelined over this whole Spike garbage. Oddly, nobody has seen the bleached moron yet. Checking by Willy's last night gave them the impression that as far as the barkeep can tell he must have either slipped out of town or he is so serious about hiding he has apparently crawled into his own ass and zipped it shut. In any case, after filling the cupboards and their bellies the drive to the Magic Box is a quick one, even with Joyce demanding to come along.

>>>>

Giles looks up as the bell over the door chimes. "Ah, Xander. Good of you to come. Joyce, Dawn. Such a pleasant surprise. Welcome to my humble little shop. Twenty-five percent discount for family members of people that have saved the world at least twice."

This last bit is said teasingly and with a charming smile as he has noticed Dawn looking about in wonder at the racks of glass baubles out front. He is aware that she has enough of a grasp on things to know that much of this is there merely to fill shelves for the tourists, as it were. But it doesn't stop them from being quite beautiful, especially to a precocious fifteen-year-old.

"If you could come with me to the backroom, Xander, I have set up a small workout area for Buffy that we can use to acquire some preliminary physical data once I have completed a small battery of magical tests to determine whereabouts your strengths may fall."

Xander gives the man a quick grin and a nod, following him to the back. "Lead the way, G-Man."

Before Giles has an opportunity to complain about being called that, Buffy speaks up.

"So, why didn't we do a bunch of tests like this for me? Feeling a little left out of the testage."

Giles turns around in the room they will be using. "Well Buffy, there are a number of reasons. The first is that all those sorts of tests have been done to Slayers, off and on, for thousands of years. While not all slayers are created equal, the range in which their abilities seem to be most prevalent is well known and has never deviated outside of that scope. Moreover, the source of the slayer's power is always the same. The Slayer Spirit hasn't changed in all of recorded history. There is no reason to believe that they would do so now. Though I will admit that the council at one point did demand that I perform these tests on you if I am being honest."

Buffy's eyes narrow. She doesn't like hearing about the council. They are officially on her naughty list. "Why did they want that, and why didn't you?"

Giles pulls off his glasses and starts cleaning them. "I am not sure if this is the best time to go into this, Buffy. This might be a conversation for the two of us to have alone."

Xander gets a look at the expression on Buffy's face and backs up a step. But what she has to say in the next few minutes floors him.

"Hey, everybody! Come on back here for a minute!" She calls that out to the front, and slowly the rest of the group, including her mother and sister, walks into the back. Once everybody is there she continues.

"Giles here let out that the 'Council' asked him to do the same tests on me that he is about to do to Xander. When I asked why he didn't want to talk about it in front of you guys so I am guessing it has something to do with the demon that got bamboozled by some old-timey witch forever ago into infesting girls over and over forever. They dress it up pretty like they are taking it to church, but it's a demon that kills girls by making them fight until they die. The so-called 'Slayer Spirit.' So, Giles. Now that everybody is all caught up, maybe you can tell me what the council wanted those tests done for?"

Giles is leaning against a counter, holding his glasses in one hand and the bridge of his nose in the other. "I rather wis... would have liked if you hadn't done that, Buffy."

Buffy takes a step towards him, her arms loose at her sides, but Xander can't help but notice that her hands are flexing. "If we all got what we wished, Giles, I wouldn't have to do things like this for a friend of mine to give me the four-one-one on things being done by people that tried to kill me less than a year ago, and almost got my mother killed along with me. What I need is to know that you are a friend and this was an oversight, because any other answer has me walking out this door and moving to LA, and I'll take anybody willing to go with me. Let the council's goon squads spill their own blood dealing with this place for a while. We don't have contracts, Giles. We don't have oaths or curses that keep us here. All we have is each other and a hope that together we can make the world a better place, and I can't do that if I can't trust you. Can I trust you?"

Giles, who has been looking more and more pale all through this, finally responds. "Of course you can, Buffy."

Calming enough to back up a step and lean against a wall, Buffy hugs herself as she stares at Giles. Almost unnoticed, Missy pads over to her and licks her hand once, then sits and leans against the slayer, giving Giles a look that, while not aggressive, would not be mistaken for being pleased. She isn't really sure what is going on here, too much of it is without context to her. But from the feelings that she is receiving from Mommy, it boils down to Giles having been caught doing something decidedly unworthy of the Pack.

Such things always interest her. Knowing the pecking order in the pack is always important, and she is now getting the impression that Giles' status in the pack, while not inconsiderable, is a lot more tenuous than she originally believed. When Buffy absently reaches down and scratches her behind her ears, Missy opens her mouth in a big doggy smile that might show a little more teeth than it could, and she is looking straight at Giles as she does it.

Giles sighs. "It goes back to the calling of Kendra. At first, they were not concerned about it. A boon, to have two slayers. There was even talk of attempting this again under controlled conditions, to see about activating additional Slayers. Talk that was not followed up on, obviously. But it had been considered. For the most part, it was dropped. Until just after your eighteenth birthday."

Giles is looking at the floor now. Every word gets chewed over a bit before it wriggles its way out. "When you beat the test even with the council stacking the deck against you as they did, it came up again. There were those that believed that the slayer spirit had moved on completely, and you were powered by something else, something that wasn't as susceptible to the drugs used in the Cruciamentum. Because you were otherwise able to perform your duties, they demanded that I perform tests to redetermine the source of your abilities in the hopes that whatever it was, it could be duplicated." Giles smirks at the ground. "A month after they fired me, no less. Their arrogance is beyond belief."

He looks back up at Buffy, and it is easy to see how sad he is about it having come out in this way. "Frankly, Buffy, I chose not to bring it to your attention because I was reasonably sure that so soon after that damnable test, my mentioning further council requested stupidity would destroy any faith in me that you might have left. I mentioned it today because I had hoped that our trials under fire together since had brought us close enough that I could be given the benefit of the doubt and we could discuss this later, as adults who respect each other would. Apparently, I was mistaken."

There is quiet after this for a bit, as everybody considers what has been said. Finally, Buffy responds. "Do you think we should do the tests?"

Giles considers for a few seconds, then nods. "Not to send to the council, no. But for our own benefit, it may be a good idea. As I mentioned to you recently in another context, we know all there seems to be concerning Slayers. But if by some strange coincidence that isn't what you are anymore, it would behoove us to learn what powers you currently."

That decided, in short order Joyce and Dawn are sharing a loveseat while Buffy and Xander are each in their own steel folding chair with Missy sitting between them as Giles performs his tests, taking occasional notes. The conversation is light, as he had requested they not disturb him for fear of getting inaccurate results.

Missy decides that this might be the longest time of boredom ever.

Almost three hours later, he leans against the counter on the far side of the room and starts interpreting the results of his tests, occasionally making new notes on his pad as he goes.

"Extraordinary," Giles says, followed by letting out a sigh.

Buffy quirks an eyebrow. "Make with the 'splainy. What's so extraordinary?"

Looking up at her, Giles is smiling. Rather, he is smirking. "Congratulations, Buffy. You are not the Slayer anymore. Instead, you appear to be a Primal."

Buffy looks shocked and glances at Xander. "How?"

Putting down his notes, Giles makes an effort to explain what he thinks is going on. "If we were to imagine that the Slayer spirit once inside you used the power at its disposal to create a charged system, the spiritual version of hydraulics, say. It then powered this system using itself, its own presence, as the pressure in the system that made this work. When you died, it left. It empowered Kendra. But the infrastructure clinging to your soul remained. It waited to become charged."

He turns to his other testee. "In the case of Xander, I hadn't actually been able to purge the primal from him, but I had been able to cage what was there. So he too had a system, this one dedicated to primal energies. His, however, was inactive, as we couldn't allow it to affect his mind. When he... Well, when he brought you back the primal in his system hopped the circuit. It may have been hoping to possess you, but it was unable to because your spiritual infrastructure immediately put the energy to work charging its own system. It is like changing the engine in a car from a four to a six-cylinder. Changing the power source doesn't stop it from being a car. So, you are a Slayer-Primal hybrid of sorts."

After a moment to clean his glasses while smiling and shaking his head, he continues. "As for you, Xander, you are the next step. Nearly the same thing. The primal pathways in you became charged when you shared of your own life force with Missy, and she reciprocated. The difference is that, unlike the Primal, Missy has neither the ability nor the desire to dominate you. You are instead a guardian of sorts."

Joyce grins at this and Giles finds himself wondering what she knows, but doesn't press the issue and continues. "I can't say for certain what long-term changes are in store for either or both of you. I do know that using the wrong fuel in an engine can eventually cause problems, and I can't help but think that we might run into something like that at some point. Additionally, if my research into primal spirit possessions and Slayers is any indication, Slayers tend to be a bit stronger and a bit faster, while primals are known to be unbelievably resistant to fatigue and if they live long enough to master their gift, obtain a rate of healing that borders on the ridiculous. How this will affect the two of you given your utterly unique situations, I really couldn't guess. But that is what we are going to test."

Xander looks up from Missy, whom he has been rewarding with head scratches for her good behavior. "What about Missy? Is it possible that I could hurt her somehow, borrowing her power like this? I don't want to hurt her." He says this last bit looking back down to Missy, who rewards this line of thinking with a great big lick to his face that has most of the rest of the room smiling or giggling.

Giles shakes his head. "No, I don't imagine there being any problems like that. Her... I guess we will call it primal force, for lack of a better term, is based in her. She can produce it, much as Buffy does as she is now hosting the primal that once plagued you. In Missy's case though, when she is full up she starts filling your tanks, as it were. As you know, she can give you power. But I think what you will find as time goes on is that after she matures and is no longer needing so much of her own essence to power this absurd rate of growth, she will keep you both topped off fairly handily. What the two of you might be capable of at that point I really couldn't guess, but it should make for quite the adventure for the two of you. My only prediction here is that because she is essentially powering the both of you as well as possibly losing something in the transfer, it is highly likely that the two of you will, when both using a large measure of your abilities, manage to go through your reserves much faster than she might have alone. Until we have done some testing though, your guess is as good as mine as to what those limits might be."

With a look at each other and a nod from each, Buffy grins at Xander. "Well, okay. Let's see how the new blood measures up!"

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 12
Put Through The Wringer.

>>>>

What followed was nearly three and a half hours of Xander getting his ass kicked, and an hour that he didn't.

At a whistle from Giles, the two stop their current spar, Buffy smiling and Xander smirking through a mask of blood. Even using wooden weapons, a hit on the forehead that manages to break the skin bleeds like crazy. After having spent some time sparring with various weapons, strength tests, and a speed test that was running around the block three times while being timed, Giles is ready to share his findings.

"Because I know that you will ask, Buffy, go ahead and take a bow. If there were to be a winner in this barely scientific shamble of a contest, it would be you. Though perhaps not by as much of a margin as you might have liked."

Buffy starts her bow, but stops it at his final statement and instead turns to speak. "How so? I kicked his ass all over the place."

Xander is quick to defend himself. "I'm right here, Buff. Gimme a little credit, I didn't do that bad."

Buffy turns back to Xander in response, her tone apologetic. "No, I didn't mean that how it sounded. I just meant that I thought I beat you pretty soundly, not that you didn't do good. When I was only a couple of months into this, you probably would have kicked my ass."

Giles shakes his head. "Unlikely. While Buffy has gotten stronger and somewhat more skilled, she hasn't gotten particularly faster. Slayers rarely do unless outside forces intervene. When you are not intending to go for a kill, speed and technique are far more important than strength. No, I think I can safely tell you what Xander's issues are merely by noting where he did shine."

They are both sitting and listening now, though Xander is having to try to look around Joyce, who is fussing over the cut on his forehead with some wipes and a bandage.

"Xander beat you, Buffy, in only two of the twenty-six contests we ran here tonight, and tied in two more. The two in which he managed to pull ahead are stamina, which here we tested by doing pull-ups while wearing weighted vests, and curiously enough, fighting with a short blade, such as a knife or dagger. I have my suspicions why the latter would be the case, but I will let him explain in a moment. Stamina, I suspect that this is due to his 'power system' being based on the primal. As for the knife, Xander would you care to elaborate?"

Xander shrugs and looks at Buffy. "It's the only weapon we used today that I have been trained on. I probably could have beat ass with an entrenching tool too, thanks to Halloween."

Buffy's eyes go wide at the word Halloween, then she looks confused. "What the heck is an entrenching tool?"

Giles can't help but grin. "He means a military-style shovel, Buffy. The armies of the world feel the need to make things more complex than needed. I suspected that this might be the case. The slayer 'package' includes an instinctual awareness of the use of most weapons with at least a beginner's level of competence, and after three years on the Hellmouth Buffy could easily be considered an expert with most of them, if not a master. The two you tied in were unarmed combat, in which both Slayers and Primals are naturally gifted. Though to be fair given his increase in stamina it seems probable that he would eventually wear you down or you would need to go for evasion, Buffy. Pure strength being the other. While it is obvious that the Slayer infrastructure is stronger on a pound-for-pound basis, the Primal is no slouch and has much more to work with using Xander as an outlet. Mass and leverage do make a difference, after all. Indeed, given the five tests we did, you only beat him in three of the five. The two that allowed his larger frame to work for him allowed him to beat your scores quite handily and with wide margins."

He then turns more fully to Buffy and continues. "On Buffy's side, we have greater speed, agility, flexibility, jump in both height and distance, accuracy with bow and crossbow, far greater ability with all of the weapons common to the slaying of supernatural threats save the dagger, which if I am being honest is a back-up weapon that rarely sees use. Additionally, it is worth noting that her scores in stamina were only slightly under yours, Xander. You did better, but the difference wasn't profound enough to affect a fight unless said fight went significantly longer than is likely to ever occur outside of a boxing ring. All this being said, there is every reason to believe that as you become more used to the abilities at your disposal you will become more powerful. Much as the Slayers do."

Giles gives a tight-lipped smile. Then his eyes swing over to Missy. "I am not comfortable with anyone sparring with Missy, so as you know we were forced to keep our testing there with pure numbers. In the speed test, Xander you came in at around twenty-nine miles per hour. That is a gold medal in the Olympics level speed. Buffy, you came in at thirty-four. Please understand that in both instances, you were having to take corners which is not something that generally happens at an Olympic event. Your true top speed is likely a bit higher. Missy came in at just a bit over fifty-six. This puts her easily at cheetah speeds, and cheetahs don't need to turn ninety degrees at the end of the block twelve times when doing their speed test. Indeed, a cheetah would likely have a hard time maintaining that speed for an equivalent distance whether turning or not."

He shakes his head in wonder as he moves on to the next page of notes. "Her bite force came in too high for us to accurately test, but is in excess of four thousand pounds per square inch. That is... quite a lot. Far higher than one would expect given her roots, even with hyenas being known for prodigious strength in this area and her demonic roots. The idea that she could tear off a master vampire's arm doesn't seem nearly as farfetched as it might have when you first told me. There are other tests we might do, such as her ability to drag things, or her power to tear up what she has in he jaws, but frankly, those first two told me what I needed to know. She is dangerous. We are very lucky to have her on our side."

He looks down again at Missy, who has gotten bored with all of this long ago once they were done with her. She is taking a nap on a rug in the corner with Dawn. Buffy's sister had originally gone over there to lean against Missy while doing homework but was done in by the same boredom soon after, and now the two lay together in a heap of limbs, fur, blue jeans, and a pink t-shirt. Dawn is nuzzled in tight to Missy, and Missy occasionally sniffs around in her sleep, then gives a little lick to Dawn. As always, Xander smiles when he sees them like this, and just as predictably, Buffy rolls her eyes.

Once she has the bandage on Xander, Joyce sits down herself, turns to Giles, and asks a few questions of her own. "So what does this all mean, Giles? I know we needed to do the tests, but now that we have the information what are we going to do with it? Can they spell each other off so Buffy can have a day off now and again?"

Buffy looks thrilled at this until she sees the look on Giles's face. "Perhaps at some point, when Xander knows his way around the tools of the trade better. For now, I think it would be the best plan for them to patrol together. Frankly, between the two of them and Missy... Well. I would never call patrolling around a Hellmouth at night safe, but short of using a tank to do it, I can't think of a safer way to get it done. I will say it is unlikely that Xander will ever truly be as effective as Buffy, simply because there are too many things that you just cannot let touch you and therefore speed is of more import. That said, Missy's damage capacity plus Xander's greater mass and leverage which should allow him to more easily handle larger weapons? I think between the two of them they may someday be able to give the Slayer a weekend retreat, yes."

Joyce looks upset and a bit confused. "She took the whole summer off a couple of years ago. Now we are jumping through hoops to get a weekend. What changed?"

Giles looks apologetically at Buffy. "She did not take a summer off, Mrs. Summers. She ran away and if anything truly noteworthy had come to pass while she was gone, we would likely all be dead. Assuming of course that the Earth itself wasn't rendered into some form of hell dimension. It is unfortunate that this burden has fallen on your daughter. I wouldn't desire this to befall anyone I cared about. But these desires do not change the reality. As cruel and manipulative as the council is, it is true that they understand the risks involved better than most. I'll not defend the pillocks, they have gone beyond both their remit and the bounds of common decency. But I will say that when you have a world to protect and family that live in that world, it becomes easier to rationalize the abuse of someone you will never meet. What you and I feel, Joyce, is the desire to protect the world and Buffy. They are, unfortunately, only burdened with half of that."

Joyce looks upset but thoughtful. Buffy is less forgiving.

"Maybe we should go to LA for a while. Maybe they will grow a conscience if they are having to put their own friends and family in the grinder."

Giles offers only a sad look. "In reality, Buffy, I suspect that if we were to try that they would simply put you and I both to death to get another slayer called. Explosives or a sniper bullet would be the method, I think. The term 'A squeaky wheel gets replaced' is common in their world, they would think little of doing it if pushed hard enough."

The silence that greeted that statement said more than any amount of screaming or yelling could.

>>>>

Initiative Headquarters. Same time.
The three were sitting around a table, bathed in harsh fluorescent lighting. Agent Riley Finn looked over at his second in command and decided to get things moving along. "Okay Gates, you said you had an ID on the owner of that dog?"

Forest Gates, a tall and well-built younger black man with a shaved head and wearing the same army uniform as his two friends, nods back. "Yeah, it wasn't tough once I saw that video. His name is Alexander Harris. A couple of days verifying he was staying with that Buffy girl's family and then running the plates through the DMV. Turns out the car is actually owned by his uncle, but once we had the last name it didn't take much to find him. There is a problem though."

Graham Miller, the last of the three and a somewhat more compact and soft-spoken, yet no less respected or dangerous member of their group, chooses now to interject. "How so?"

Gates looks back at Miller, his face a mask of annoyance. "We aren't the only ones looking into him I don't think. When I went to check the residence that the car is registered to, I found an old, rusty, but probably still working surveillance van parked at the end of the road. You know, the kind they used like twenty years ago? It still has the whip antenna for Christ's sake. Somebody that is really lousy at spycraft 101 and has fairly deep pockets for a non-government agency is pretty interested if they can afford to have a team sitting around there all day waiting for him to show up. I had the tech nerds run a trace on the van, and it is currently owned by a company called 'Seaside Securities.' Then I had them run a check on this firm. Turns out they only have a few clients right now and only one that could possibly be interested in our boy."

He turns the page on his notes, pulls out a newspaper clipping that had been copied from microfiche, and hands it over. "EMAX, you know, those genetic research guys that lost an animal a couple of years ago? Couple of deaths? They were trying to engineer a bigger badder police dog and such? That fiasco put them in the hot seat and they have been in and out of court since, but that hasn't stopped their work. I don't know if this guy has an escaped animal, or if they just want it to work with after seeing it in action, but it is obvious they are trying to get all up your boy's ass."

Riley shakes his head. "This will complicate things. I'll write up a report and take it to Walsh tomorrow morning. Maybe we can do some kind of deal with EMAX on the up and up. They wouldn't be doing that kind of work if they didn't want a government contract, after all. If they can supply anything close to that beast Harris has, I'll spring for the Alpo mine eats. What do you have for us, Miller?"

The shorter man shakes his head. "Nothing good. You know how the tougher ones always seem to be interested in older fashions?" At Riley's nod, he continues. "I am seeing stuff from the thirties and forties, some even older than that. The kind of thing that would have been civilian wear during World War Two and before, and not just from here. I did some web searching and these styles are from all over the European theater at that time. Not sure what it all means, but it seems like we have a whole crew of leeches that hit town and are around a hundred years old at least. Really though, that isn't even the worst of it. A lot of these ones are armed."

Forrest grunts. "With what? Clubs? Rocks? These damn sub-terrestrials are too stupid to maintain anything more complex."

Miller shrugs. "Not going to argue intelligence one way or the other. But from the tower, I saw pistols. A couple of shotguns. More than a few old carbines and at least one old Thompson. If they are any good with the things, we are going to be in trouble out there. My recommendation is to stop aggressive patrols until we can get a better idea of what is going on and a more appropriate loadout."

Riley frowns at that. "Walsh isn't going to be a big fan of that idea. You know that."

Graham nods. "Yeah, I know. That's why I am glad it is you that gets to hand her the paperwork." With that, he hands Riley his full notes and observations for the evening. The three then chat for a bit and then break off, the two leaving Riley to the desk portion of his job.

>>>>

Authors Note:
I swear I am done with the long Giles speech thingies for a while. Back to the plot for the next chapter. Such as it is. Cross my heart and stuff.

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 13
Rolling Along.

>>>>

The delivery got some attention from the neighbors, after all, it isn't every day that somebody receives a nearly antique armored car delivered on the back of a flatbed truck. Fortunately, the thing was able to get started and could be backed off the bed. Xander frowns as he signs the paperwork. While the online description hadn't lied really, it had given the impression that the vehicle was in considerably better shape than it actually is.

The engine is misfiring, the interior is a disaster, the tires are bare, and the lock on the rear door looks as though it was cut out at some point and will need to be replaced. The whole thing is covered in rust and peeling paint, and the electrical system has a fault in it somewhere that has taken out the interior lights, radio, and stereo. But it moves and has thick metal plates of armor. None of that new-age ceramic crap, so it can actually be repaired by a guy with a welder. The frame is in good shape, the transmission is solid as near as he can tell, and well, he knew this was going to be a money pit anyway. He was just hoping it wouldn't be quite this big of one.

It being Sunday, Joyce, Buffy, and Dawn come out to see his delivery when it arrives at around nine in the morning. Joyce gives a low whistle while she scratches Missy.

"Quite the project piece, Xander. Why again exactly?"

Xander shrugs. "I am tired of the closest thing we have in town to a safe place being the hope that whatever wants to kill us can't come in uninvited. Besides, I figured we could rig it up with some stuff inside. A computer for Wills, a couple of weapon racks. Maybe a few cameras on the roof so we can get video of some of the weirder things. A selection of research materials. Like a bookmobile for badasses." He ends this with a wide smirk that has the rest giggling.

Buffy looks a little unsure. "It looks like it needs a little work."

Xander laughs. "That would be putting it mildly. I need to take it to my uncle today, we were planning to go over it. Maybe change the oil, give it a tune-up. See how much we can get done before I have to call in the pros and it starts costing me an arm and a leg. Fortunately, my uncle tells me that these old diesels aren't too tough to work on if you have the money to spend on the parts and decent shop to do it in, and he does. Though I did have to buy him a new lift. He didn't have anything that could pick this thing up. Not gonna lie, that sucked. Industrial strength car lifts ain't cheap. But hopefully, in a week or two? We can have a mobile command center for when you or I or both of us patrol. Someplace within a block or two that is safe, has friendlies in it that can put band-aids on our boo-boos. Maybe Joyce or Dawn could come along sometime and watch what happens." Then he looks at Dawn and back peddles a bit. "You know when your mom says you're old enough."

Joyce looks at him and seems to be considering it. "How about we get the cameras working and we can do home movies instead? That way we can screen them ahead of time."

Dawn looks less than thrilled by this. "You realize that this is crap, right? Buffy was killing these things when she was my age, and I can't even watch from inside an armored car?" She starts to walk back towards the house, and they hear her muttering as she goes. "Just bullshit. Buffy gets to be a superhero, and what do I get? Yelled at if I am out after dark, that's what."

Joyce grimaces a bit at that. It really isn't fair, and she knows it. But what can she do? "I need to go talk to her. Good luck with your project."

As Joyce walks back towards the house, Xander turns to Buffy. "Hey, do you have an hour to kill? I need somebody to follow me out to my uncle's place in my car. I can give you a lift back, but I need wheels out there. Oh, and Rory and I think that some lunatics that are after Missy are staking out his place, so I might need a hand scaring them off if you are willing. Maybe come out with me and hang for an hour, see if they show up before I drive you back?"

Buffy nods. She has some homework to do, but that won't take too long. She can easily handle it before she goes on patrol tonight. "Yeah, that would be fine. But I do have some stuff to do, so if we are gonna do this we need to get to it. Dibs on driving the convertible though. I am kinda not interested in a tetanus shot right at this very second."

Xander gives her a lopsided grin and tosses her the keys.

>>>>

"What the hell do you mean we can't engage? The boys and I have been sitting in this goddamn van and crapping in the woods for four days waiting for the little shithead to show up, and now that he is finally here you are telling me that a fucking camera could have done the job?"

The irate man can hear the amusement and almost see the smile on his boss's face when the older gentleman responds on the radio. "Jesus, Bobby. Calm your tits. We got a new assignment regarding this thing. Was planning to call you in tonight once we got the new cams in place. Not sure what changed, but they just want us to keep tabs on the kid for now. Since we have confirmation that this is a good location, I'll send in the technical team now. You can go ahead and come on in for debrief and a shower. See you in an hour, over and out."

'Bobby' shakes his head. Disgust warring with glee at getting to go home. "You heard the man, start it up. Looks like we are packing it in."

His driver and best friend glances at him as he crawls into the passenger seat. "What do you suppose happened?"

Bobby's grim face is etched briefly with humor. "Oh, who the fuck knows. These EMAX assholes couldn't find their own dicks with both hands, a map, and a tour guide from Tijuana. My guess would be that they got a new court date and they can't risk bad publicity. But really I got no idea."

>>>>

"Professor Walsh, you wanted to see me?" Riley Finn asks, still a little concerned. Whatever caused her to call him into the office four hours earlier than their scheduled meeting must be important or it could have waited.

"Yes indeed, Riley. I have good news. EMAX was willing to listen to reason. Well, reason and a threat that not going along with the needs of homeland security might be a bad idea for them. Their primary facility is about thirty miles southeast of town here, and they have asked that we send a few of our specialists over on Monday so we can see what they offer and make a list of what we might need in the future. Frankly, once they got past the somewhat strong-arm tactics my superiors pulled, they seemed quite interested in working with us."

Riley looks interested but is trying not to get too excited. For every ten new contracts the military makes for new equipment, at least three don't pan out at all and roughly half of the rest come in underwhelming and over budget.

"What do they think they can supply now? For that matter, if I may Professor, what is their connection to Harris' animal anyway? I sent our stills to a friend as you asked, and he sent back a message asking if I was working in Hollywood these days. According to him, the only way that bone structure could come about would be some kind of cross-species interbreeding. He said it looked like somebody took a stocky wolf and put it in a blender with a hyena."

Walsh looks interested. "Who is this friend of yours, Riley? We might have use of him. The geneticists at EMAX said something similar, and if your friend can train these animals as well as think outside the box we may have a use for him here."

Riley panics for a second. He already knows that this assignment is about two shades north of being a Black Op, and he can see it dropping fast into 'no witnesses' territory if the wrong things happened. Besides, why would he want to have friends move to a place that has a death percentage for the last hundred years that has only been exceeded by Hiroshima and Nagasaki? "Unfortunately Ma'am, he doesn't have anywhere near the clearance to work here."

Walsh gives him a speculative look, then nods. If she really wanted to find out, she could make it an order of course. But without Finn's recommendation, the likelihood that the man would be willing to give up whatever he had to come here and deal with what Sunnydale offered would be minimal. It wasn't worth it if it meant alienating her second in command.

"Very well. Regardless, I am going to give you operational allowances to give your friend the basics concerning EMAX and the challenges that might be involved if you think he can handle it. We can't include the location or the sub-terrestrials, obviously, and it probably wouldn't be a good idea to mention that it is taking place on American soil unless he signs the non-disclosure agreements. There are some politicians that would regard our operation as being against federal laws."

'Because it is.' Riley thinks. Again wondering just how in the hell he ended up in the middle of this crap anyway. Policing people stateside by the military is only done if the people in question are in the military. Policing anything else is handled by the FBI or its runty stepchild the ATF, local municipalities, and the department of fish and game. What the Initiative was doing could charitably be called a disaster relief effort, and uncharitably be called a treasonous subversion of the law in an effort to further the goals of somebody that makes a hell of a lot more money than he does. He still believes what he is doing is needed. But it is becoming more and more clear that this will never be an operation that he will be able to brag about in his memoirs.

"I'll consider it, but honestly I don't think he would be interested anyway. What are they saying is the connection to Harris?"

Nodding, Walsh turns back to her computer. "They believe that his dog is the progeny of an escaped test animal of theirs. While technically they don't really have much of a case for ownership of the animal, they are fairly desperate to get it back because while they would not legally be responsible for it if this one were to slip the chain as its father or grandfather did, if it came out and deaths were involved they would be crucified in the court of public opinion. One more case like that connected to them would bring the entire operation down and land most involved in prison, most likely."

The smugness of her grin is impressive. "The truth is Riley, that they will do whatever we want them to do because they are terrified of any of this coming out. All things considered, I would prefer loyalty to fear. But the riddle that is these sub-terrestrials needs answering and I can't help but feel as though Harris and EMAX could be a piece of that answer. I need them to step in line with the rest of our efforts. When you visit them on Monday, make sure that you are not too polite. I am not asking you to be threatening or cruel, but we need them a little worried. We are not looking to make friends until they are in too deep to get back out. Understood?"

Riley really doesn't like where this is going. But unfortunately, he has to answer. "Yes Professor."

Walsh smiles. "Now, as for Harris. Pity he isn't going for higher education here, it would make things easier. But I am going to assign you as a tutor to this Buffy Summers. Get to know her a little. I am not asking you to do anything immoral, but if it happens to come up that she has a friend named Harris, and where they both learned to fight like that, where he learned to handle an animal like that? Well. Find a way to find out. Am I understood, Riley?"

"Yes Professor."

"Lastly, about these concerns of Graham's. Do you think that they have merit?" She looks as though she already knows the answer, but felt obligated to ask the question.

Riley nods again, beginning to feel like a damn bobblehead. "Ma'am, if the HST's are coming out of their holes armed with guns of any kind, facing them with our current loadout would be straight-up suicide. The prods we are using just don't have the ability to deal with a ranged attacker, particularly one that is fast enough to stay at range no matter what we do."

Walsh looks less than pleased but resigned. "Very well. I have ordered more surveillance equipment. Starting Tuesday when it arrives I want full teams out there covering our blind spots starting at first light. Once we have the campus and surrounding area for five blocks in all directions with at least ninety percent coverage, we can start trying to figure out what is going on. I expect this work done no later than Friday, and don't forget to keep in touch with Buffy. I will be giving her the notification in class on Monday as well as your cell number to call."

With that, he is dismissed and leaves quickly before things can get any worse.

>>>>

Buffy hung around for an hour, and then he gave her a lift back. The van was gone when they passed where it had been, which was worrisome. Not that it was gone, but that he didn't know why it was gone.

By seven in the evening, Xander and Rory had the old beast sorted out, at least mechanically. The rubber on the tires it turns out is so damn thick that you can technically drive on them until they are about as smooth as an apple peel. Not a good idea to do it in snow or during a high-speed chase, but since it is an armored truck in southern California? That isn't a real concern. Given the mileage that he is likely to be putting on it, they could easily last another decade or more. The engine has a couple of oil leaks, but nothing to get in a tizzy over. It might drop a quart every six months or so.

The engine misfire ends up being water in the tank and fuel lines, which is easy enough to deal with once they have hammered out what the problem is. Getting the interior done is going to have to be after the thing gets a sandblast and new paint, since he doesn't really want anybody at the auto shop to have an idea what is in it. So after deciding to make that call tomorrow before his interview, he thanks Rory for the help and heads back home with Missy. Tomorrow should be a busy day.

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 14
Testing the Waters.

>>>>

Oh god, the waiting. Xander decides that without a doubt the worst part of getting a new job is waiting to hear back after the interview. What's worse, these clowns are filling for a big job that isn't even going to happen for another month. It could be up to three weeks to find out, apparently. If it wasn't for the fact that it would seriously cut into his patrol time, he'd consider going back to tending bar, legalities be damned.

But, while being left in the lurch for three weeks is very much of the suck, it will at least give him time to get the new truck sorted out. Now that they have an idea of what it needs he takes it into the pros to get the electrical sorted out and see if the oil leak is an easy fix, then to the body and paint place to get the whole thing cleaned up, stripped, and turned a glossy black inside and out. He has them fix the lock on the back door while it's there. It costs him a bit, but if there is one weld on the thing that he really doesn't want to be done by his amateur, high school metal shop approved hands, it would be the door locks.

Unfortunately, that process is apparently going to take a week and some change for them to get to it. So during the day, he hangs out by the phone at the Summers' place, puts together a pair of grab and go duffel bags for the trunk of his car that contains weapons and a first aid kit in one, and clothing and a first aid kit in the other.

He likes the idea that any bag grabbed has a first aid kit in it.

In the afternoons he pretends he can actually help Dawn with her homework. At night he patrols with Buffy and Willow, sometimes Oz. Oh, and lest we forget he hears all about her new tutor or teacher's aid or whatever who is apparently just the nicest guy ever to be born on this planet and so smart and so innocent of the evils of the world and so Riley. After three days of this, the name is making him want to vomit.

He doesn't really hold a torch for Buffy himself at this point, but seriously. The need to give this guy the entrenching tool speech is becoming overwhelming.

So imagine his surprise when he gets a letter on Thursday offering him a temp job and signed at the bottom by one Riley Finn. It doesn't answer any of the interesting questions, such as what skills they are looking for and who 'they' even are, aside from apparently Buffy's best chance to pass psyche. But he is asked to come down to an office in city center Sunnydale on Friday at one in the afternoon to be interviewed. So when Buffy makes it home, there is a slight ambush waiting for her.

>>>>

A spring in her step, Buffy makes her way towards the front door. She is a little late getting home, it is almost seven, but hopefully, they saved her something to eat so she can chow down before patrol. Riley is just doing a wonderful job explaining everything to her, and he has muscles in places even Angel didn't. Frankly, after that douche-nozzle Parker, king of the love 'em and leave 'em scraped her off his boot three weeks ago? She really needed a chance to feel more like a woman and less like a... Well, a Slayer. At least for a while.

Opening the screen, she glides into the house mincing about on her own personal cloud nine. "I'm home!"

"Yup, you sure are!" comes from the couch right next to her, where Xander, Missy, and Dawn are. Xander continues, holding up the mail that he got. "So, I guess you have been talking about me?"

She looks confused for a minute, then when she reads the names at the bottom she smiles. "Wow, they work quick, I was expecting to have to take you to meet him tomorrow."

Xander can't tell if he is confused, hurt, or pissed off. "What did you tell them about me that I am getting job offers from your freaking tutor. Help me understand how this is normal?"

Buffy rolls her eyes as she heads back into the kitchen. "Seriously Xander, it isn't anything serious. The Fraternity he is part of has members above and below the legal drinking age and they are renting a room somewhere to throw some kind of party with some staff or something. They need somebody to tend bar that can be trusted not to serve minors so they don't get in trouble. I had mentioned I knew a friend that had done some time as a barkeep last summer and was looking for something to tide him over until a job came through. It's a weekend deal, two nights of work, around twenty hours at twenty-five bucks an hour plus tips. The best part is it's under the table. No tax man!"

She seems so happy with herself that his irritation melts away. "Buffy, I am trying to get a real, serious job right now. I can't get caught doing under-the-table work that I am technically not even legally allowed to do. You have to be twenty-one to sell alcohol in California."

Buffy just nods, her smile never slipping. "Obviously you are going to turn it down, I mean, you aren't desperate right now and it's a big risk. But I never told him that you would take it, I just said that I would ask you to show up to the interview if he was willing to help me with my term paper. Getting you to be dumb enough to take stupid chances for people you don't know is their problem, not mine. Oh, take Missy with you when you go. I mentioned you had a real beast of a dog and Riley was interested in meeting her. He's a dog person."

Xander can't help but grin at this. "I suppose, Buffy. If I must."

"You must. Because otherwise I shall fail and be a destitute slayer forevermore, and you can't have that on your conscience. But wait though." She looks confused for a minute. "Even with a fake ID you really don't look twenty-one, how did you not get found out when they ran the check this summer?"

Xander looks directly at her and his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. Getting on dangerous territory here. "Well, technically as far as the books went I wasn't actually hired as a bartender. My job you didn't need to be twenty-one for. Even though I spent a lot of my time behind the bar. Kind of unofficially."

Xander hears a very dangerous snicker from the kitchen as Joyce tries to hold in her laughter. Buffy looks a little confused, and then she gets a grin on her face that could have been used to light the way on that famous road made of good intentions that leads to hell. "Xander, just what kind of bar were you working at, anyway?"

Xander closes his eyes. "Oh my god, Joyce you suck!"

The laughter from the kitchen is loud, and when Joyce walks out waving a five-dollar bill and wearing a big smile, Xander makes a break for the door with Missy.

There is some evil that man just can't face.

>>>>

Her dreams have been fragmented nightmare images for a long time. Wilkins. Xander. Buffy. This three feature most prominently. One she tried to please, one she tried to use, one she tried to impress. The pain though, the pain is new. Regular pain added to the already hellish existence that she leads behind closed eyes. A physical pain interpreted by a fragmented soul into the bedrock depths of vileness. She is being used, somehow. She knows it and can do nothing about it. She just exists. Waits. Maybe, maybe somewhere deep in her soul, she even prays. For help, or an end.

But she doesn't really believe anybody listens.

>>>>

Xander makes it to the Friday meeting a few minutes early, Missy hopping out of the car to pad along beside him. He holds the leash as he enters the building. The fifty-pound test he has wouldn't stop Missy for even a heartbeat, but he needs to be holding on to something or technically he is in violation. He finds the office easily enough. A quick knock does elicit a response.

"Come on in." He opens the door and enters, wearing a smile that may loiter on the edge of being goofy without quite taking the plunge. There are two men in the room. One is an African American type fella. Tall, well built. Young, and shaved bald. The other must be Riley, based on Buffy's descriptions. He is the one that starts things off. "Alexander Harris?"

A quick grin, then Xander responds. "Just Xander. Everybody pretty much calls me that."

Missy walks around the table that Riley is sitting at. She sits next to him and waits. Riley and his friend look confused, but Xander is getting an update.

"Mommy! This is the one that fought the one-armed badman at the place of learning! He was not mean to me or anything!"

Xander's eyebrows rise a bit at this. Buffy's psyche tutor is a closet demon hunter. And he wants me to tend a bar.

Yeah. Sounds legit.

After a few moments, Riley smiles and holds out his hand. Missy gives it a little lick and receives back a quick head scratch in return. Then she circles back around the table to Xander.

Xander decides to go ahead and try to end this quickly and get out of here before whatever they are planning can come to fruition. "Sorry about that, Missy here has a mind of her own sometimes. Look, I just came down to let you know that I won't be available for your little shindig. Buffy had the wrong idea about my summer job. I worked at a bar, but not as a bartender. Not twenty-one yet. Can't legally serve alcohol. So, thanks for the offer and all. Hope you can find somebody else."

The two behind the table share a look, then Riley turns back to Xander. "Well, so much for the soft approach. Look, we don't really need a bartender. Well, we do, but finding one isn't going to be tough. The two of us are involved in a project to make the streets safer at night and we got a hold of some video that we wanted to look into, see if maybe you were interested in helping us out."

Xander frowns. "What video?"

Expecting that response, Riley opens the laptop in front of him, presses play, and turns it around. Xander sees for the first time from another perspective the sight of Missy tearing into a vampire, and then his jaw drops a little at the sight of his own tightly muscled frame sprinting across the camera view only to begin bashing Spike in the face. Once the video is over, Riley continues.

"Honestly, we were just hoping maybe you could tell us where you got your dog and maybe a few pointers on how to train them up. No tricks and we are more than happy to pay you for your time. We have government connections, and the pay for consultants is better than my pay, honestly. It could save the lives of a lot of good men."

Xander considers for a minute, then has a thought that gets him more than a little angry. "Any particular reason you felt it was a good idea to get Buffy involved? Or are you another use' em and lose 'em type?"

Missy is confused. Why are Mommy and the nice not-badman not being friendly?

Riley shrugs. He sees the anger but decides that the best defense is a measured percentage of honesty and an innocent face. "Hey, none of that. She needs the help, the professor took a shine to her and asked me to give her a hand. Besides, maybe she can give us a hand too. The girl has some moves. If I back the tape up we can watch her in action. Honestly, if I had known just how ridiculously bad Sunnydale was before I got here, I wouldn't even be here. Ask me, they should throw a fifty-foot wall around the whole thing, evacuate the human populace, and use it for testing artillery strikes. But I don't get to make that call. Since some lunatic up the chain has decided that it needs to stay a town, I am staying hoping to keep the populace alive and healthy."

Government? Chain? Artillery? "You two are Military? Do you have any idea the amount of trouble you could get into patrolling a civilian populace inside United States borders? They don't even bother to make a key for the cell you end up in, they just weld the thing shut."

The two look at each other again. This time it is the other fella that responds. "Before we can continue, I need you to sign these non-disclosure agreements. Just a formality, but if you would."

Xander looks down at the thick pile of paperwork. "Yeah, I don't think so. In fact, I think we are done here. There are no more dogs like Missy that I know of. I wish you the best of luck finding one. If you do happen to find one and have trouble controlling it there is an outside chance that I might be able to help, but it is just as likely that I'll need to put the animal down. So think hard before you call me. As for the town itself, you're right, Riley. This place is dangerous. Given your talk of evacuating the human population, I am even going to go out on a limb and say that you might have an idea of how dangerous. You run into something you can't handle, gimme a call. I'll see what I can do."

He growls, low in his throat. Just for a second, but they definitely heard it based on their expressions.

"One last thing? Buffy likes you a lot. I would imagine that it won't be too tough for you to mess with her head. If you want her help training, sparring, whatever, she gets banged up a little physically, that's on her. She's a big girl. You screw with her heart enough to change the yearly gross at the Ben & Jerry's plant, and they will never find your body. Are we clear?"

Mommy is getting mad, and her reasons are starting to bleed through. The Soldier-Riley is still not a badman, but he isn't a goodman either and he tried to manipulate the Pack. He tried to use the Pack. How could Missy be so wrong? Missy was almost to ask Mommy if he could be made Pack because he was nice, and he fought the Badmans like Spike. But Mommy saw through his attempt at being sneaky. Mommy protects the Pack better than Missy does, even though she tries her best.

Mommy is awesome, and Missy has much to learn. But Missy is a good girl, and she will take her lessons to heart. The low rumble starts deep in her throat. Almost accidentally. Soldier-Riley betrayed the image of what she thought he was. What she thought he could be. The shame at being so wrong collides with the confusion of feeling manipulated and it has a party in her brain that results in a spike of anger that has Missy let out a very irritated: "YIP!"

Ten seconds of demonic barking laughter follow, punctuated by low growls until she realizes that Mommy is holding her collar. Petting her. Saying nice things in soothing tones.

Calming her. She has embarrassed Mommy again. Embarrassed the Pack with her lack of control. She stops immediately and whines, looking at Mommy. Mommy smiles at her, though Mommy's eyes still flick up to the others in the room every couple of seconds. Mommy gives her ear scratching, and Missy sits again. She can't even remember exactly when she got up.

Riley is scared. HST's he can deal with. They are scary, he has no doubt that they could kill him if he screwed up. But he can keep his cool around them. He can be professional. This dog of Harris's cut through the armor he keeps around his fear like a cutting torch murdering a gelatin dessert. All of a sudden he feels like a hairless ape on the plains, desperately running through the dark and the tall grass for a tree to climb that might save his life. Dimly he is aware that Forrest has moved behind him, so he can only assume that he felt the effect as well. He sees Harris standing up to go, and gets his mind back from the brink and able to function as the guy is grabbing the doorknob. "Hey, Harris."

The man stops and turns to look at him fully, but doesn't let go of the doorknob. "Whatcha need, Riley? I don't plan to drink your Jonestown special, I figured we were done here. I guess you might need my number." He walks over and uses the pen offered for signing the paperwork to scrawl his phone number in the margins of one of the documents.

Riley finds his voice again as Xander finishes up the number. "Just be careful. On our surveillance, we are seeing some of these things in town now that are carrying guns, and wearing styles that haven't been popular for at least fifty years. If you know as much as I think you do, you'll know what that means. If not..."

He points to the unsigned paperwork. "I can't tell you any more than that. But tell anybody you care about to be careful. Last week or so, somebody has been changing the rules on us."

Xander nods, and a lot of the animosity he is feeling drains away. Riley might be somebody's tool. But he apparently still had a conscience. "Thanks. See you around, Finn." With that, they leave.

Forrest and Riley sit there for a few minutes. Calming down. After a time, Forrest looks at him. "That didn't go as planned."

Riley shakes his head. "No, no it did not. But we have a number and permission to call. Maybe we can still get him on board. I'll try to spin it that way to Walsh, otherwise she is liable to do something that will push him away forever. In the meantime, I think we need to get Buffy involved. If he is that protective of her, then he'll probably follow her in anyway despite what he says." He pauses for a second, his nose wrinkling. "What is that smell?"

The two look at each other for a few seconds, then lean over the table to see what Missy has left for them. Riley looks back at Forrest. "The last one to the door gets to collect the sample and clean that up."

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 15
Delivery Boy.

>>>>

Willow is in her dorm room doing some homework when there is a knocking on her door. "Who is it?" She calls out, her tone neutral, but more due to distraction than because of any amount of irritation.

"It's me, Xander. Is your door locked?" Comes the answer back. By asking if the door is locked, he can request entry without asking for an invitation to enter. Just a Hellmouth quirk that they had picked up over the years.

Grinning wildly, she jumps up off the bed and answers the door, stepping aside so he can enter. It isn't that he has been absent, really, but they have had precious little time to hang out just the two of them for a long time. The Hellmouth always seems to have other plans. "Xander! What bring you over to see little old me?" She asks, giving him a hug with her cheek smooshed against his chest.

"Can't I just come over to see my Willow?" A wry grin is offered to her as he sits on the chair at her desk. Missy pads into the room before she can close the door, and Willow offers her a smile and pats the top of her bed as a place to sit, then sits. Missy hops up and lays her head on Willow's lap for easy scratchings access.

"You could, and from you, I might even believe it. But based on the look on your face I am guessing that isn't the case this time." She counters.

Xander's smile slips a bit. "Yeah, no fooling you, Wills. I need you to do some computery-ish stuff for me before I talk to Buffy about something."

Willow freezes then looks down, her face in an almost pout. "Oh no. Riley too? Is this another thing like Fordham? Because I don't think she could deal with that right now."

Xander thinks back to the dying teen that tried to sell Buffy to some vampires as payment for being turned into one. "God I hope not. He did just try to hire me to assist with his 'Take back the night' project though, and I think he is probably government sponsored in a 'Be all you can be' kinda way. Given how dumb and corrupt the government can be around here and the lineup on our crew? Witch, Werewolf, Slayer, Hellhound crossbreed, whatever I am... Well, I am a little concerned as to what exactly they are up to. As long as they are dusting vamps, all to the good. But if they decide to branch out into other areas of super-whatsit oppression, well, I am not as thrilled by that idea. I was hoping to have something to go to Buffy with tomorrow. Even better if you do it. She never trusts me with any information about guys she likes. Thinks I am still pining for her or something."

Willow grins. "Well, to be fair, you kinda are a little bit."

Xander shakes his head. "Not really. I mean, she's a beautiful woman don't get me wrong. I have spent many hours contemplating the what-ifs and the why nots. But we've known each other too long. We know all the bad about each other to go with the good. Too many stories, too much angst. I love her, but I love you too. I don't want to be with either of you in that way at this point for fear of losing what makes me want to face tomorrow. I need you and her in my life, but... I really suck at the feels things. Can we just say you get the point and I can stop tearing up my man card now?"

Willow offers a smile and nods.

Xander clears his throat. "Anyway, moving on. I also need something else from you if you would be so kind."

Willow smiles. "I don't have any Twinkies around, unfortunately. I didn't know you were coming."

Xander snaps a finger. "Well shucks, then I guess I will have to go with option B. I need to know a place I can buy some body armor and everybody's measurements. Riley's last gasp effort to get me on board was to tell me that there are a bunch of new vamps in town that are actually carrying guns. I know Buffy won't carry one, but I might get her to wear a bulletproof vest if I just show up with one."

Willow scowls. "Are you sure? I can't think of too many gun-toting vamps since Darla."

Xander shrugs in response. "I think it isn't worth the risk to find out the hard way."

She nods. "I suppose you are right. Gimme a few minutes. I can probably find the best place around with a couple of web searches."

Ten minutes later and a call to the Magic Box to speak with Giles, he has all the clothing sizes he needs as well as the addresses of a few places that sell what he is looking for. Unfortunately, they are all in Los Angeles. Additionally, he is apparently being requested to deliver Spike's mood ring to Angel while he is there. Which requires tracking down the Buffster, or more likely, seeing her at the house tonight for dinner. He gives Willow another hug during which she finds herself humming in contentment while Missy licks her hand. Then the two leave and head to the Magic Shop to pick up an owner's manual for a ring. Xander finds himself shaking his head at the ridiculousness of his life. Pleasantries to Giles later, he and Missy finally get to go home.

>>>>

When Buffy walks into the house, Xander is again waiting for her with Missy. Rather than wait for the ambush, this time she decides to get the ball rolling. "So, the interview went kind of horrible I hear?"

Xander offers a smirk as he stands up. "Well, that depends a bit on what you heard I guess."

Buffy nods. "I heard that you turned down their offer of employment, and then you turned down their offer to help them 'keep the streets safe at night' Then Missy made them both pee themselves. Okay, he didn't actually say that last bit, but based on the look he gave I am betting that there was yellow involved."

Xander nods. "Yeah, that is pretty much what happened. I'll admit I am a little surprised he told you all that."

After a quick hug, they separate and both sit down. Xander is back on the couch and Buffy on the chair her mother uses to watch the news and once in a while drink wine in the evenings.

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting it either. But I got the impression that he was trying to come clean before you told me anyway. He made noises about us being better friends than he expected. You didn't threaten him did you?"

Xander freezes. Something deep in his psyche recognizes that the truth will see him in pain and a lie will see him in more pain later. After nearly twenty seconds of the two staring at each other while Buffy looks more and more annoyed, he finally answers. "I told him that you were a big girl, but that if he treated you like that Parker asshole did they would never find the body."

Her gaze softens a bit, but she still responds with an irritated tone. "I'm not made of spun glass, Xander. I do not require your protection. I beat you, remember?"

He shakes his head. "Not worried about protecting your body, Buffy. But your heart has a few dings in it. There aren't all that many people that I'd die for, but I'd have done the same for any one of them if that makes you feel any better. Besides, the guy was pumping you for information about the two of us based on some security video they got their paws on of the fight with Spike. Even if he is serious, and worships the ground you walk on, and is one hundred percent so in love with your ass he plans to spend the rest of his life kissing it, the guy still rubs me the wrong way for being willing to use you like that. So he needed the talk. Actually, he needed more than that. I have Willow checking him out now."

Buffy's eyes practically roll right out of her head. "Yeah, I know. I stopped by and asked her to do the same thing after he talked to me. I am the new amazing learning Buffy that isn't interested in a repeat of Ford."

She pauses for a few seconds, considering what Willow had told her. "He didn't tell me about any vampires with guns, are you sure he was serious, and not just trying to get you to go along? Willow told me that you were planning to head to LA tomorrow to drop a few grand on bulletproof gear. It'd be a shame if it turned out to be a waste of time and money."

"I considered that." Xander shrugs with a bit of a frown. "But honestly, it's like I told Wills. I'd rather have them and find out we don't need them than not have 'em and find out we did. Besides, we run into stuff all the time that a little extra protection would be nice against."

She doesn't really have an answer to that, so there is silence for a minute as they both consider what happened today. Then Xander picks up the conversation.

"Oh, I need Spike's mood ring. I told Giles I was heading to LA and he asked me to drop it and a freaking binder full of copies of stuff off with him. I am guessing that Dead Boy gets to walk around in the sunshine soon?"

Buffy smiles. A sad smile. A smile of loss, and pain. But a smile, nonetheless. Then she pulls the gaudy piece of jewelry out of her pants pocket and hands it to Xander. "Yeah. I hope he'll let himself use it. He was always harder on himself than anybody else was to him. Even you."

Xander takes the ring without comment. He wants to comment, he wants to so bad. But in the end, all it will do is upset Buffy and drive unnecessary wedges into the Pack. Driving it apart. Missy doesn't need that. So instead he nods and jams the ring into his own pocket.

"So, I called and it's gonna be at least another week and like ten grand to get the truck working properly with the new electrical squared away and the engine tuned up, all painted pretty and stuff. Plus another few days and a few thousand dollars to add the cameras to the roof and tie it all into a closed-circuit system. Given that it is an armored car they didn't even ask too many questions on that one. I guess cameras are pretty common on the new trucks. They blinked a bit when I said where and how I wanted them mounted on the roof, and they were almost confused when I asked for them to have a little armor mounted around them with some bulletproof glass in front of the lens, but they'll do it. Amazing what money will do. After that I just want the seats redone and I can pay off these guys. Once we get it back we can start getting it kitted out for use."

Buffy smiles. "Thanks, Xander. I know I don't say it as often as I should, but thanks. I am sorry that the interview today didn't work out, but as it happens there is an opening for Buffy's brother if you want the gig."

Xander can't help but laugh. "I'll have to check the 'Willow's brother' handbook and make sure there are no clauses against associating with competing interests, but I think we'll be okay."

>>>>

Dinner goes off without a hitch, with the only odd thing being brought up after dinner as they all relax in the living room before Xander, Buffy, and Missy go out on Patrol.

Joyce smiles. "Did any of you realize that she checks on all of us while we sleep? I've caught her a few times next to my bed, just nuzzling the blankets to make sure I am Okay. I find her all the time on Dawn's bed with her when I go in to wake her up for school. It happens more often than it doesn't."

Xander gives a lopsided smile. "Well, she cares a lot. If you would rather that she didn't, I can ask her to stop. But honestly, I think she would take it pretty bad if I did. If it was up to her, we'd all sleep in one big pile somewhere, that is normal to her. Checking around to make sure we are all okay is kinda her compromise for us crazy apes with the opposable thumbs."

Joyce shakes her head. "You misunderstand, Xander. I'm not mad about it. I think it is sweet, actually, how much she goes out of her way trying to make her pack happy and to fit in."

Xander just leans back and rewards Missy with a good hard scratch on her belly as she squirms a little in her semi-consciousness. "She doesn't really think of it as going out of her way. She lives by a set of ideals that are entirely centered around the Pack and caring for each other. Defending each other against all comers."

Xander shrugs. "It would hurt her if we asked her to stop. She would think we were trying to kick her out of the Pack, there really isn't any other way her mind could interpret it. She gets smarter all the time, so her relationships will undoubtedly get more complex. But right now she's just a puppy. Like four months old. The pack is all she understands, and we're it."

There is silence to this. Dawn, who is sitting on the floor next to the couch, and is slowly running her hand through Missy's fur, is the next to speak. "Well, I am proud to be part of her Pack, Xander. She is wonderful and I love her. She's like a furry sister."

Buffy nods. "I don't know that I would go quite that far, but if being part of her Pack involves occasional comfort cuddles and somebody waking me up when I am having nightmares, I'm in. She's done that twice now."

Joyce smiles at her daughters. "I think it's unanimous. Missy is family. Just like you, Xander."

Xander smiles along with them. It's a good night.

>>>>

The next morning, Xander is up pretty early. LA isn't too far away, but if he wants to get all of his stuff done and get back tonight, it is a good idea to get an early start. On the road by seven. Stuck in traffic by nine. Finally hits the first store by eleven.

It isn't until almost eight in the evening that he realizes just how long he has been in town checking stores for things that he might want for either the truck or personal protection. By that point, he just calls home to let them know.

"Summers' residence, home of Summers, Dawn speaking." The voice is somewhat annoyed. If Xander had to make a guess, he would say that Dawn was answering the phone after one or both of the other residents had yelled at her to do so.

"Heya Dawn Patrol! How are you doing?"

Her voice sounding significantly more chipper, she responds. "Well enough." There is some yelling back and forth between Dawn and somebody else in the background. "Buffy wants to know when you are going to be back for patrol?"

Xander sighs. "Yeah, about that. Between traffic and not really knowing my way around this took a lot longer than I thought it would. I'm still in LA. Probably gonna just get a hotel room for the night. I really can't make my delivery until after dark anyway, so by the time I could get back she would be mostly done."

There is some yelling as Dawn explains his logic. Once Buffy hears the reasoning, she seems okay with it. "So did you find a cool stops everything vest of awesomeness for me too?"

Xander snorts. "Of course I did. Not that you should have a need to wear it, but yeah, obviously. You're stuck with black though. I couldn't find one in pink."

She giggles. "You're the best, Xander."

Xander chuckles as he responds. "From the mouths of babes, we hear the truths of ages. Look, I gotta go, but take care of yourself, all right? I'll be home tomorrow for sure. Missy misses you too much to stay gone any longer than that."

She giggles again. "You take care too. Don't let the big bad city swallow you up!"

Then she hangs up.

It takes him almost twenty minutes at a payphone to find a hotel that will accept a dog, and another half hour almost to get to it. After checking in he drops off the ring at Angel's new business. Angel is there alone at the time, it being almost eleven by then.

"Hey, Dead Boy!"

Angel scowls. "Jesus Harris, I thought I was finally done with that. I left town, that not enough for you?"

Xander offers a big grin as Missy follows him into the office.

"Damn. Isn't it a little early for your mid-life crisis? Or is this just a straight-up attempt to compensate? What the hell is it, anyway?"

Xander frowns the frown of a man trying to not start bashing in teeth. "That's Missy. She is some kind of Hellhound mix as far as Giles can tell. But the important thing here is that she is ours. Mine, Dawns, Buffy's, Joyce's. So be nice, will you? She's just a puppy and words can hurt."

Xander finishes the walk over to the desk Angel is sitting at as the vampire has a ghost of a grin sneaking around the corner of his lips. That ends when Xander slaps Giles' folder down on the table.

"What's this? You need me to do a job?" He asks as he opens the folder.

Xander shakes his head. "Nope. Though I have to say, you as a gumshoe, helping the helpless, well, honestly I'd make fun of it but I am almost proud to know ya because of it so I'll give it a pass. This time. No, that is an instruction manual for this."

Saying that he pulls the ring out of his pocket and flips it over the desk to Angel. "We picked that up from Spike about a week ago when Missy here tore his arm off. Buffy seems to think it will help you fight the good fight. So, since I had business down here anyways I get to be the delivery boy. Incidentally, if you happen to come across Spike's dumb ass do me a favor and dust that creep, I don't care how long you've known him. His retaliation put Joyce in the hospital. Head injury. Could have killed her. He has a permanent removal from my Christmas card list."

Angel is still looking at the ring like he is afraid of it. Deathly afraid of it.

"Look, for what it's worth if it were up to me we would find a way to destroy the thing. No offense."

Angel looks up, finally. "None taken. This thing is dangerous. The things Angelus could do if he had this..."

"Yeah, I know. I also know that somewhere in you Angelus can hear me. Just like he heard me in the hospital. I am telling you both right now that I am here to deliver this because Buffy asked me to and because she believes that you can be the hero in her tragic tale of woe. But if this ends up being a mistake, I don't have to wait until she gets done crying for somebody to deal with it anymore. I am not trying to be a jerk here, really I'm not. Just, be careful. She'd never forgive me. I don't want to have to do it. But I'd never forgive myself if I didn't. Just use it. Be a hero. Be careful is all I ask. Maybe walk around with a rock in your shoe or something to keep from being too happy, I don't know."

Angel gives him a steady look and grins at the shoe comment. Nods in acceptance at the end. "You smell different, you know. You have a little of her in you I think." He bobs his head toward Missy.

Xander slowly nods. Wondering how much Angel can guess based on what he senses and two hundred some odd years dealing with the supernatural world.

"Xander, we don't always see eye to eye, even when I am, well, me. I know that. But I also know you. Buffy's White Knight. Angelus said it to piss you off, but it's true and I know it is. Just be careful yourself. I know you're different but I won't say that I know how different. Might be better if I don't know. Might give you an edge if the worst happens. But I am not the only one that can smell it, and the bad guys that might have ignored you and gone straight to the Slayer might not anymore. Just keep it in mind while you protect her. You can't keep her alive if you're dead."

Xander offers his hand, and when Angel grasps it they both offer a firm, but polite handshake. Then he stands up and walks out with Missy, making his way towards the hotel.

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 16
Thanks for Calling!

>>>>

Walking in the door at noon felt like an achievement all of its own after the fiasco shopping trip of the day before. Apparently, everyone was out though. Or at least nobody answers when he calls out. Of course, when the phone rang within minutes of him walking in the door that really should have been a clue that something was decidedly askew.

"Summer's lair, Xander here."

There is a moment of silence, and then Xander hears Riley's voice. "Did you just say that you were the Summer's layer? Is there something going on between you and Buffy I should know?"

Shutting his eyes, Xander tries to formulate a response that won't get him in deeper trouble when Buffy hears about this. "No, no, I meant 'lair' spelled lai... Oh my cheese whiz, why am I explaining this to you? Buffy isn't here. Call back later."

As he goes to put the phone down he hears Riley again. "No, wait, I actually called to talk to you! You said to call if we ran into something we weren't sure we could handle."

Xander leans against a wall. Starts to buff his nails against his shirt and halfway through the action realizes that there was nobody there to see it except Missy, who likely wouldn't get it anyway. He stops. "What do you got? I'll help if I can."

"Well, we're not sure, really. They're skinny, horny, grayish-blue and they hunch over when they walk."

Xander waits a second. "Gimme a break. Riley, if you rubbed glue sticks on my graduating class and then dipped them in a big bucket of crushed urinal cakes, they could be your slouchy horny perps. I am gonna need more than that."

There are a few moments as Xander hears paper being shuffled, and then Riley speaks up again. "Their eyes glow green and they screech a lot when they are pissed off."

Xander's eyes widen. "Hey, yeah, I know this one. Those are, umm, well, I don't actually know their name. We always called them Cock Blockers. Or at least I did."

Riley doesn't quite laugh, but his tone betrays a degree of mirth. "I bet there is a story behind that."

Xander laughs. "Not as much of one as you think. They have this annoying ability to throw up a small energy field. It'll block a doorway or a window. Makes you deal with them, or at least makes it more of a pain in the ass to get away. That isn't the real issue though, if they are what I think they are then every time I've heard of them being around before they were acting as guards or enforcers for something else. Frankly, I wouldn't want to deal with them if I didn't have to. Where did you spot 'em?"

There is silence for a few seconds and then Xander mouths "That's Classified." at the same time that Riley says it.

"Well all right then. Best methods that I know of are burning, decapitation, and wood through the heart. They are kinda leech-like in that respect. Good luck." Then Xander hangs up. He doesn't bother to wander far though. Gets Missy some food and water. Makes himself a ham sandwich. Sneaks her a piece. As he is sitting down to eat, the phone rings again. Couldn't have been more than seven minutes.

"Land of Summer, keeper of all things Xanderly here. How may I direct your call?"

The voice sounds a bit more strained this time. "Xander, it's me again. Riley."

"Yeah, I figured. So what's the what?"

Riley lets out a breath. "I have been given the go-ahead to bring you in on this one if you are interested. No forms to sign or NDA's or anything. Just, if you wanted to lend a hand."

Xander takes a bite of his sandwich. "Nah, not really. Thanks though. Was there anything else?"

Riley sounds a little confused. "Why don't you want to help? I thought this was what you trained the dog to do."

Xander tears off a chunk of his sandwich and tosses it into the air, and Riley hears a snap of jaws and then "Good catch pretty girl!" from the line. Then Xander focuses on him again.

"I didn't actually train her to attack anything specifically. I just encourage her to defend me and mine, and she takes that responsibility very seriously. But really, the problem is you guys."

Riley sounds affronted. "What did I do?"

Xander takes another bite of his sandwich and has to talk around it, which unfortunately he is pretty poor at hiding. "It's not you, really. It's the fact that it isn't you would be more accurate."

Riley is getting frustrated at this point. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Xander decides that game time is over. Besides, he's thirsty. This call is definitely not more important than a glass of chocolate milk. "You are working in a chain of command that you don't control, Riley. You proved that just now when you had to get clearance. This means I was probably right on the money and this is some kind of military operation. Now, you may not know this but I have a pretty fair understanding of how the military works."

He snorts derisively. "Something like this, operating in secret on American soil, probably out of a hidden location so the rank and file don't get wind of it? Filing special paperwork that goes directly to some chair surfing ass clown three times your age in DC whose biggest personal threat in a given day is remembering the anniversary of their wife, three mistresses, and midget sex toy? In short when things go South, and they will Riley, don't kid yourself on that one, things always go to hell here eventually, the local kid that likes to wander around in the morning with the plus-size pooper scooper is gonna be the first one against the wall with a forged confession and a last cigarette. If you want to give me the address and a couple of days, I'd be happy to look into it. But I think I am gonna stay a solo act."

There is a 'yip' in the background.

"A duo. I meant to say duo. Ouch, dang it Missy, don't gnaw when I am on the phone. Even in play, it's rude."

There is the sound of comforting head scratchings for a few seconds, and then Xander comes back on the line. "So, is there anything else?"

Riley is silent for a minute, then he speaks as though he is more than a little shell-shocked. "So you won't go in with us, because of some kind of preconceived notion that the government is going to toss you to the wolves, but you'll check it out solo if we tell you where it is, no charge."

Xander answers with the fridge open grabbing the milk and chocolate syrup. "Well sure. I have friends that live here. I am all about keeping them safe. I'm not going to promise that I can wipe it out, but I can take a look and see what is going on."

"Well, OK then. It's at a warehouse over on Pines. You can't miss it..."

Xander breaks in: "The main garage door is like fire engine red, right?"

There is a slight pause. "Yeah, how did you know?"

Xander rolls his eyes and tries to not notice Missy stealing that last quarter of his sandwich off the table. "I cleaned that place out last week. Didn't figure it would stay empty long though. Prime location. Midway between downtown and the waterfront and an easy hike to the college or the Bronze. It's like the vamp Hilton. But it might mean that somebody I wanna have a chat with is back in town. Gimme a couple days and I'll check it out."

"Why do you need a couple of days? We could just hit it tonight."

Xander stops drinking and gives Missy the look when she starts eyeballing his chocolate milk. She whines, so he gives her petting. "Feel free. Gimme a ring tomorrow and let me know if I still need to go down there. Wouldn't want to waste my time."

Yeah, because his time is at such a premium these days. Is being sarcastic to yourself in your own mind a bad sign? Probably. What the hell were those things called again? Should probably let Giles know there is some in town and if I don't remember their stupid name he'll give me his 'I doth cleanse mine spectacles lest I fear to become infected with thine stupidity' tone. Hate that tone.

"Sure, we'll let you know then. Thanks for your information. Talk to you later."

Xander hangs up the phone and turns to Missy. Gives her a few more really good scratches and then sinks to his knees in front of her.

"You know what I noticed on our car trip, Missy? Guess. Guess what I noticed."

Missy doesn't want to guess, she wants to know! Car stuff is always fun, all the joy of the wind through her fur and all the smells she can possibly handle and it doesn't even make her legs tired. If she had a car of her very own she would make it take her places all the time just to go there!

"You see Missy, after spending all that time in the car with you, and on the streets of LA where the traffic was so slow I think we were actually aging faster somehow by being there, something occurred to me that is very very important! Can you guess what it is!" He is rubbing her fur all over and bouncing in excitement as he says all this. The excitement is catchy and Missy finds herself bouncing with him, yipping joyfully as she is soon to know of this wonderful new car thing of apparent awesomeness!

"It's bath time!"

Missy hides her eyes under her paws and lets out a low moan. Noooooo, betrayal!



Two hours of chasing a hyper-excited Hyena around the backyard with a sponge, bucket, and hose wear them both out. But it's a good tired. He ends up drenching two towels drying her and finishes off with a hairdryer on low heat. The whole process takes forever, but as much as she hates the soap, she loves the feel of the dryer even more, so Xander always takes extra time with it. Brushing and rubbing her down as the warm air dries her until she is so relaxed that she more or less pours herself onto the couch for a nap.

This naturally means that Xander is wide awake and stuck that way for a while. He gives up on the name and just calls Giles.

"Magic Box, this is Giles Speaking."

"Hey, The Giles! Just the guy I wanted to talk to."

Giles pulls his glasses off and starts rubbing away at the lenses with the phone held between his neck and shoulder. "Must you persist with that infantile manner of speaking Xander?"

Xander does his best to keep a straight face. "I know not of what you speak. Say, what would you say if I told you that I had heard there were some cock blocker demons in town?"

Without missing a beat. "I would reply that this is an abominable thing to say about Joyce, and you have the quid to get a hotel room. You shouldn't be bringing your conquests into her home regardless, you are a guest."

Xander's jaw almost drops right off. "Holy crap, Giles, that was awesome! I didn't even hear a smirk!"

Now, he can hear the smirk. "I do have my moments. Now, can you describe your demon?"

"Sure, yeah, you remember those gray things with the horns and glowing eyes that like to lock doors by spitting at them or whatever?"

Giles's tone changes to his more scholarly voice. "Ah, yes. The Hanoch demon type. Lesser minions, but dangerous in numbers. Where have you encountered them?"

Xander rubs Missy a little on her belly. He is rewarded with a sleepy nuzzle. "I haven't. The guy currently sniffing around Buffy did, apparently."

Xander then explains everything he knows about the current situation with Riley, which admittedly isn't as much as he'd like. He'll have to remember to track down Willow this evening.

"Yes, I recall you had said something when you stopped by to pick up the information concerning the ring of Amara. So he has come clean with Buffy and found himself some Hanoch then? What did you tell them about the threat?"

"Just how to kill them, their door trick, and that they are generally being bossed around by something bigger and badder than they are. I honestly don't think he was listening. I think they are trying to get information about Missy and I more than they are kill demons just now, so I bowed out. But the things are over at Spikes old place, so I figured we should check it out tomorrow night assuming that the stooge crew hasn't figured it out by then."

Giles is silent for a moment. "You do realize that if there is a vampire there of Spike's degree of lethality, you have likely sent them to their deaths?"

Xander sighs. "Yeah, I know. But what can I do? I told them I would look into it tomorrow night, they wouldn't wait. I sure as hell don't want to be there when they are. That screams charlie foxtrot all over."

"Why didn't you just say that we would look into it tonight?" Giles inquires.

"Mostly because I never used the word 'we.' I tried to leave them thinking it would be just me and Missy so they wouldn't look too hard at everybody else. If I am alone then one day to scout and plan, with the second day to strike would be the minimum. I gave them the professional courtesy of assuming that they knew that."

Giles seems to collect his thoughts for a moment. "So you intend to scout it tonight?"

"I considered it. Honestly, I'm a little curious how these guys handle it. I thought I might try to get a bead on their operation, you know, from a hidden spot somewhere around. Maybe they got some nifty toys that make things a lot easier, and if they do, well, color me curious as to what they might be."

"You are aware that there is a reasonable chance that you will be there just to witness their deaths, correct?"

There is a pause for a few seconds. "Yeah, I know. If it comes to that I'll probably do something stupid too. Don't tell the girls. The last thing I need is a bunch of lectures before I leave tonight."

Xander can almost hear Giles' eyebrows going up. "You weren't planning to take Buffy?"

"Nope. Not trying to protect her, she doesn't need my protection. Just her anonymity. For Dawn and Joyce's sake as well as hers. But she won't see it that way, especially if she hears Riley is going to be there. So better we just don't bring it up."

"Keeping things from her hasn't worked out so well in the past, Xander. Additionally, I suspect she will want to know why you are not patrolling with her."

Xander rolls his eyes. "Fine, you've made your point. I'll tell her about it at dinner. Happy?"

"Ecstatic. I shall consult the tomes and my contacts, try to determine if there is anything in town that might require such an entourage. I will call again about seven, either way."

"Good enough." He then hangs up the phone.

Deciding that he needs the sleep more than Missy does, he decides to play the game. Getting up, he goes into the kitchen and gets a bacon-flavored doggy treat, which he then places on the far side of the living room from the couch. He then stretches out and gets comfortable. Within a few minutes, Missy's nose is twitching. By the ten-minute marker, when Xander is just on the edge of sleep but can't quite make the push into slumber, her eyes open and she whines, her tail thumping the arm of the couch. Seeing he isn't getting up, she huffs in mild annoyance having already figured this game out long ago but not having sorted out how to win yet. Sliding off the couch to get her treat, she finds Xander asleep by the time she gets back to the couch. A lick to his face elicits a smile, but not consciousness. Deciding that Mommy must actually be tired, Missy settles into the couch and closes her eyes. She may not be able to sleep, but she can still rest while she keeps mommy safe.

And figures out how to resist the evil that is the sleep stealing bacon treat.

>>>>

Author's Note.
The Hanoch demon is from the BtVS video game.

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 17
Well, That Went Poorly.

>>>>

Dinner is interesting that night as it turned out to be quite the party with Willow also arriving, and Giles showing up in time for tea and dessert. The information Willow supplies is a nice verification but held few real surprises for Xander. He didn't know the where's and who's, so a place to start there is helpful but beyond that, it is about what he expected.

"Odd that they are coming from multiple branches of the service."

Giles nods while the ladies look confused. "Yes, that concerns me as well."

Buffy looks between the two men and finally breaks. "Are you two going to explain those statements, or am I going to have to ask Willow to cry at you?"

After a few moments of chuckles, Xander and Giles look at each other and Giles gives him a nod to go ahead, reasoning that since he brought it up he should have the honors.

"From what Willow was saying, all these jokers are from different units and different branches of the military. Just kinda plucked from Uncle Sam like ripe plums and tossed on the Hellmouth. It's just really odd to have a mixed bag like this all working together, outside of Saturday morning cartoons anyway. Each of those soldiers is on temporary duty, sure. But supposedly they all have oaths to different chains of command, their pay comes from different barrels, their training was paid for by budgets that are not used to sharing, and their presence is missed by strike forces that only want the best watching their back."

He nods to the paperwork that Willow brought over. "Somebody with an absolutely ridiculous amount of pull had to have signed off on this if it is legitimate, and I am talking sleeps in the White House levels of pull. The other option is that this is somebody's pet project that doesn't have all the pull himself, but has a lot of friends in reasonably high places and access to a retarded amount of budget somehow to pull it all together in spite of the fact that it isn't quite legitimate. Operations like this don't just spring up overnight. Somebody has been putting this together for years and has spent more money than I'll make in my life probably every week to do it. Add in that ridiculousness with construction work on the college campus Willow found that the city doesn't know the details of due to federal oversight? The guy in charge is either Daddy Warbucks or they're pretty damn powerful politically. Probably both. The real rub is that we'll never know most likely."

Willow looks confused. "We... We're giving up before we even try? I can find out, just give me time!"

Giles shakes his head. "No, Xander is quite correct. If we had the backing of the Watchers Council, this would be something to send them after I suppose. But without it, the risks are too high. What happens to the Hellmouth when the next major threat approaches and we are all in prison awaiting a trial? Or simply dead. The kind of person that would put something like this together is not necessarily evil, though that is likely. But they will not have gotten to where they are without the ability to rationalize misfortune brought upon others to further their aims, be they altruistic in nature or not. Given these suppositions, it is my belief that we should severely limit our contact with these people. Should they become a problem we will, of course, have to reevaluate our stance but as things stand I believe that would be the best policy. Xander, did you still intend to stake out the warehouse this evening?"

Buffy frowns at him as he nods. Bringing up his desire to not have her involved while Joyce was in the room at dinner got him what he wanted, but he was so going to pay for it later. "Yeah, that's the plan. I figure Missy and I can cruise through the area a few times. Make it look patrol-esque. I kinda hope they are willing to just wait and let me handle it. But I also expect that if they do that, it'll be because they have practically re-sided the buildings in the area with cameras and microphones. So even if that happens I'll probably have to go in alone. I wouldn't mind if there was backup in screaming range though." This last is said while looking pointedly at Buffy, who gives him a nod but still looks exceedingly perturbed about the whole thing.

"Oh, and I found armor for everyone. Bulletproof vests for everybody and I had a bit of a light bulb scenario and picked up some skater armor for Buffy and myself. It's a tight fit to wear the vest over it and a little annoying to get used to, but it's designed to allow people to bash themselves into solid objects at reasonably high speeds for hours at a time without permanent injury. Since at least half of our ouchies are from getting smacked into stuff, I thought it might be worth a shot. Maybe not, you know, every night. But when we know there is a reason to."

Giles looks doubtful. "The Slayer's best defense has always been her speed. Armor has been tried in the past and rarely works out well as it tends to slow her down. I'll agree that if we know there are guns involved it is wise to consider the vest, but I am unsure about anything else."

To Giles's surprise, Xander grins. "No worries G-man. This is a bright new era of carbon fiber and woven ceramic and other crap that I don't even know what it is. The entire suits weigh less than a good pair of work boots. Hell, the vest weighs more than these suits do. Of course, these won't stop a bullet. But they have a good chance of stopping an impact with a tombstone from breaking your arm."

Giles looks intrigued, and Xander runs out to the car to get the results of his shopping trip the day before.

Shortly after that Xander and Buffy leave the house. They start on the same patrol route, but soon Xander heads toward Spike's old place. He can see them from a few blocks away. They aren't bad. Actually, they are moving well. A squad of four, moving in a two by two cover formation. Converging on the door when Xander is four blocks away. That is the problem, of course.

He can see them when they are four blocks away. They are using an active night vision. Passive night vision enhances ambient light. But it still requires some light to work with. When going after vamps and a lot of demons that are pleased as punch to be in a completely black environment, they are nice to have but terrible to rely on. The problem is that active night vision is worse. Active night vision works by casting light of its own that is outside the human visual range and then enhancing what comes back into something that can be seen in the goggles. They're great unless what you are after can see the light, then you just look like the keystone cops out for a midnight tiptoe through the tulips. Xander figures if he can see it, then the vamps inside already have and know they're coming.

So he calls out to them while running their way. "Heya, Riley!"

All four of them freeze, then turn to face him complete with their painted-up faces as he approaches. One of them speaks.

It's Riley. "Harris, dammit, what the hell are you doing here?" After that, he starts backing away and keys up a microphone. "Abort, abort. Tonight's mission is scrubbed. Extraction unit please." He turns back to Xander and Missy as he and the other three back towards a panel van. "Would you mind coming with us so we can get an explanation of exactly what the fuck you are doing compromising my operation?"

Xander shakes his head. "No need for that, chief. I can tell you now." He points to their goggles. "The bad guys can see the light. You'd be better off borrowing floodlights from Hollywood, at least those wouldn't be attached to your face." He shrugs. "I assumed that you would want to know. Sorry if I was wrong." He smirks good-naturedly. "Well, catch you later."

Riley raises his taser gun. He doesn't point it at Xander, really, but it is obviously a threat. Missy finds the other three pointed not quite but kind of at her.

"Look, Xander. I need you to get into the van. It's obvious that you know things about these... Things that I need to have in my files or I am going to lose men, and if your mild inconvenience can save their lives then I would ask that you put up with it, or I am going to have to make it a serious inconvenience. We can just as easily have these conversations through bars if needed."

Missy isn't sure exactly when this went from helping them to being threatened by them, but when one of them pointed his metal stick at her, she decided that she wasn't happy anymore. The low growl is so deep it seems to vibrate the concrete they are standing on.

The four men look at her nervously. Riley tries to sound firm. "Control your animal, Harris. I don't want to have to put it down."

He'll look back on that as being the moment that things went wrong.

Xander reaches out quicker than the eye can follow and forces the barrel of the gun up, slugging Riley in the chest as he does so hard enough to launch him into the open door on the van. Then he turns the cattle prod looking gun on the next one over, probably that Forrest guy. A quick pull of the trigger and he is twitching on the ground looking like a quadriplegic being attacked by fire ants.

Missy knows, somehow, exactly the moment that Mommy has had enough and has decided that this other Pack needs to be taught its place. She doesn't know what these strange metal rods do, but guessing it isn't anything good, she leaps forward to body check one into the side of the van, and at the same time grabs the barrel of the gun the other is holding in her teeth and rips it out of his hands.

Everything goes great until the gun goes off.

Technically, the barrel of these rifles is supposed to be heavily insulated to prevent what just occurred, but the design specs never counted on anything like Missy putting teeth through that insulation, and the full-strength blast goes through her head and body, then into the ground. Ironically, as she was touching both of her combatants at the time, they are both knocked out. She is left laying on her side, twitching and whimpering in pain but very much still aware. As such, she can see that Mommy has lost Mommy's mind and doesn't seem to be in a big hurry to find it.

Picking up the men and tossing them none too gently into their van after removing any and all weapons from them, Xander finds himself walking up to the window of the cab of the van. When he gets there, a rather scared gentleman points a pistol at him, which gets taken away with enough force to break a couple of fingers. Then as he is screaming over the broken bones, a hand that feels like Hell's own vice grips latches onto his throat.

Harris, standing in front of him like some kind of avatar of death, his face absolutely expressionless, warns him. "Tell your people that me and mine are off-limits. If this is how they respond to an offer of help, then I am done with them. Tell them that next time it will cost them people, money, and exposure. Tell them that, and get this trash away from me before I do something I might regret."

With that he lets the driver go.

Missy is already struggling to her feet. He is getting feedback from her of incredible pain, but she refuses to lay about while Mommy could be in danger. It takes a minute to get all of the equipment collected into a bag that he habitually carries while on patrol in case they come across ooky evil stuff. By then Missy is still in pain, but moving around well enough to make a beeline for home.

That... That could have gone better. He'll have to call Giles. Xander groans. There is really nothing in this universe or the next that is worse than a tweedy 'I told you so.'

>>>>

"What do you mean, you attempted to bring him in and he responded with violence?" Maggie Walsh demands of her second in command while he lays in the infirmary. His chest has an enormous bruise that while impressive is actually smaller than the one on his back. The doctors and nurses still flit about the room, trying to patch up his squad. All of whom have been beaten badly.

Riley tries to talk past the pain in his chest. It isn't easy, but he needs to do it. If he doesn't calm down Walsh things were going to get just a little too real. "Professor, the man obviously has intelligence about the HST threat that we need to save lives. I tried to encourage him to come in for a debriefing. When he seemed reluctant, I attempted to be more persuasive."

From the far side of the room, Graham mutters something that Walsh can't make out. "Miller? Do you have anything to add to this debriefing?"

Graham offers Riley an apologetic look. Their friendship would probably survive this, the blood shed from the things they had faced ran deep by this point. But Riley wasn't going to be his biggest fan for a while.

"I'm sorry Professor Walsh. Technically nothing Finn said was untrue. He just neglected to mention that the asking was at gunpoint and the extra persuasion was threatening to kill the man's dog. Any of us would have responded the same, I suspect that Finn just assumed that when the inevitable happened that we would win. That part didn't work out so well."

Forest speaks up now. Having only been shocked he is probably the least injured, already sitting up in bed and eating a small dinner. "Didn't work out? Jesus Miller, your gift for understatement should put you on the comedy circuit. Outside of the movies and that video we have of Buffy, I never seen anybody move that fast. Riley and I were down before I could move my prod a foot and a half to take the shot."

The driver, Adam Hertzberg, adds to Riley's pain. "Yeah, and that dog took out you two just as fast." He nods at the two in question. "The damn thing even took a full-strength shot in the mouth and was getting back up before I was driving away like a minute later."

Walsh's eyes light up at this. "Really. Interesting. What brought him down there anyway? You said that he had important intelligence for you, but aside from the... HST's that we are going to be renaming soon and have not yet verified the veracity of his words about, what else did he have for you?"

Riley offers his teammates a pained grimace. Why couldn't they have let him just put all this in a report? He could have made it look... Well, not good, but at least not damning in a report. "He wanted to let us know that the HST's could see into the infra-red spectrum, ma'am. That our night vision goggles were a liability."

Walsh looks incredulous. "And for this act of benevolence toward you and yours you threatened to kill the man's dog? Have you lost your mind? There is a time for strong-arm tactics and techniques, Riley, and it comes decidedly after the point at which you believe you have gotten everything you can through diplomacy. The man had in all probability just saved your lives, and you reward his generosity and willingness to assist us with an attempted kidnapping without authorization and threatening to murder a friend? I listened in on your phone calls, you imbecile. Make no mistake, that man is closer to that animal than any K-9 officer I have ever known, and I met quite a few leading into this assignment. You are bucking for a demotion so hard I may have to oblige you if this keeps up."

With that, she leaves the infirmary, her heeled and entirely non-regulation shoes clicking the floor as her white lab coat swishes along behind her.

She already suspected that the animal was far more intelligent than a dog had any right to be, and now it was shrugging of prod blasts in less than a minute? Whatever that added bit was in the DNA that had been collected, it was certainly interesting. Almost as though...

And then she smiles, a piece of the puzzle having formed in her mind.

Almost as though that dog was some kind of half-breed HST itself. The idea that HST's and dogs could breed hadn't occurred to her, though she isn't sure why.

She will need to contact EMAX in the morning. There is work to do.

 

[Inbetweenaction]

Almost as though that dog was some kind of half-breed HST itself. The idea that HST's and dogs could breed hadn't occurred to her, though she isn't sure why.

She will need to contact EMAX in the morning. There is work to do.

Click to shrink...

And in no way can this backfire, i am sure she has a convenient alpha to lead this pack that listens to her.

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 18
Setting the Stage.

"He did what?!" Buffy exclaims at volumes that were certainly not friendly to be used at seven in the morning. Which is when she and Giles both stagger back into the house and hear about the actions of Riley and his thugs.

"Yeah, they were wandering around using active night vision, you know, the type that a lot of demons can see? I tried to warn them and he got all pissy, demanded I go with them for a debriefing. When I said no and Missy growled at the twit he threatened to put her down. I suppose he might have been talking about using their stupid cattle prod dealies, but I wasn't willing to take the chance. So wham-bam-body-slam later I take all their toys, dump them in their stupid little van, and warn the driver that we are off-limits." At the look on Giles' face, he continues. "Sorry Giles. Even if they didn't permanently hurt her, what do you think the chances were they would have let her go once they had done their tests and stuff?"

Giles nods slowly. "I suppose given the circumstances you did what you had to. But we must be cautious. Things could escalate quite quickly, and if they do, there is no telling how far it will go."

Xander motions them to sit down. "So where have you two been all night?"

Buffy offers a really annoyed look. "Some vamps made a play for Faith last night. We actually lost her for a few minutes, I had to hook up to her myself to keep her alive. Living blood bag. Totally gross."

She shudders theatrically for a moment. "Giles had her moved to a funny farm midway between here and L.A. It'll be expensive to keep her there, especially being in a coma like she is. But it lets us keep her in a locked rubber room in case she wakes up. We're on the shortlist to be notified if that happens, all of us. I hope you don't mind, Xander. We put you on the list too."

"Huh." Is his initial response.
"So, do we know what her status is as for as the Slayer thing goes?"

Giles nods. "Indeed we do. Something about the process of giving blood and restarting her heart allowed a, well a vision of sorts. We don't have all the details really, though Buffy is welcome to share what she experienced if she chooses. What I do know is that the primal spirit in her used the opportunity to procreate, essentially. She is now a primal, albeit host to a primal that is an infant. The Slayer spirit itself has moved on."

Xander looks at Buffy, eyebrows raised. She mostly looks sad.

"We got a peek into each other while it was happening. She did some bad things, some horrible things, but she was in a bad place. She'd been through a lot and honestly, we didn't do much to make it any better. If she ever wakes up I'd like to see that she gets the support and help she needs. Maybe behind bars, but what she needs. I don't know that I will ever trust her completely, but having walked a mile in her shoes it's tough to not be willing to give her a second chance after everything I did and allowed trying to help Angelus become Angel. My hypocrisy is apparently not as boundless as some people once believed."

Xander nods. "Ooookay then. So, do we know who the new Slayer is? Do we have any way to know that?"

Giles looks at him somewhat confused. "There is a spell known to the council, I may be able to dig it up if I have any friends left. Honestly though Xander, I burned more than a few bridges inquiring about your parents and what little I have left I need to save in case the world is ending."

Xander looks a little stunned at this. "They would deny you information that could save the world that they live on? Giles, why did you work for these unbelievable fart knockers so long? They suck. They suck so hard they have lungs full of dusty lint. They have Hoover lungs. From now on I am calling them Suckmasters."

He rolls his eyes as he leans back. "That said though, did you find out anything about my parents?"

Giles sighs, cleaning his glasses as he considers his response. "Very little. All I have been able to find out for sure has to do with the camera that was watching your old home. I took a few pictures of the thing coming at it from an angle where it couldn't see me, sending them to a few people that I know. Unfortunately, they all tell me that those cameras are most known to be used by the agents of Wolfram and Hart, a law firm that... Well, if they are not ruled by a demonic evil overlord it isn't for lack of trying on their part. Their closest office is in Los Angeles, and so I passed along what I had to Angel in the hopes that he might have better luck considering his chosen profession."

Placing his glasses back on his face, he leans forward slightly. "He assures me that he will be in touch if he comes across anything. Unfortunately, it is unlikely that this law firm is actually the problem. It is much more likely that they are being hired by someone else, who exactly I couldn't say. Though it seems a fair wager that it has some connection to these people that have been harassing your uncle. The problem is the time passed. Rumors spread like wildfire, but like wildfire, they will consume all evidence that would point to their origin as part of their nature. Looking for fact in the three-month-old rumor is proving problematic, and so I have precious few facts to go on."

Xander nods his head thoughtfully. He expected to hear something like this. If G-Man had any good news, he'd have already brought it up.

Shortly after this talk, Giles leaves and all three are in bed asleep within the hour.

>>>>

Walsh has called Riley into her office. Again. The man is standing at attention, sweating somewhat despite the well-airconditioned room.

"Finn. I got your latest progress report. Would you care to explain your failure in greater detail?"

Cursing the luck he has had in his mind, he speaks. "Ma'am, Buffy Summers has stopped returning my calls since the incident three days ago. I received a note in my TA box today from her explaining that my services will no longer be required. I can only assume that Harris has explained to her in a negative light what happened and she no longer wants to be around me."

Walsh considers. This was actually rather expected. Buffy Summers, now that she has been interesting enough to look into, has proven to be interesting not in what she will do, but rather in the way she will do it. Her cutting-off contact with Riley after that disastrous call of his was almost a given. That she didn't make her displeasure more physically known is the true surprise.

"Riley, do you understand why you are here?"

Finn looks nervously at his superior. "To protect the interests of the United States against the HST threat, through a campaign of aggressive research and removal."

Walsh looks annoyed. "No, Riley. That is incorrect. Your reason for being here is to follow orders. To do what you are told. Your job, your goal, your reason for being here is to trust that your superiors know better than you how to defend this great nation, and to do as you are told. Since you are apparently incapable of understanding that, and equally poor at getting good results, I find that I have very little use for you. Sadly, I can't get rid of you. The top brass won't clear anybody else for this knowledge at this time and I need warm bodies in the field. But until you can prove that you have learned the fundamental truth that your job is to do as you are told, you hold no rank here. Your pay is being docked by fifty percent. You are being given a field demotion to something just above a specimen in the chain of command. If the cook tells you to stir the soup with your finger, I expect to see you in the infirmary requisitioning a burn cream after dinner. Are we clear?"

His face shocked and pale, he responds. "Yes Professor."

"Good. Get out. I will have the specifics of your new assignment distributed to the various commands by tomorrow morning."

Riley turns and walks out, shoulders slumped. Defeated.

Walsh watches him leave with a wry smirk. So much potential in that one, if only he could get his head out of the clouds. Nobility, good intentions, and the ability to take initiative are all fine and good but it is results that win engagements. She had considered long and hard before doing this. Given his psychological profile, this will either pull him down off of his high horse and get her some results, or it will destroy him.

She turns back to her work. Either way, he'll stop being her problem. Really, that was the important thing.

>>>>

It is almost a week later before anything of particular note happens.

"Wow, Xander. It looks way different, that's for sure." Buff says somewhat breathlessly as she watches him get out of the rebuilt, repainted, tricked-out armored car.

The massive armored vehicle glimmers in the late afternoon sun, the glossy black paint offering the merest hint of the sunset to be reflected. The roof cameras, two per side, one front, and one back, are easily visible. Yet from the roadside appear to be seamlessly attached and armored, complete with lights on either side of each. He offers the family a quick grin and opens the back. There is a folding cot against the wall on either side and a bench below them. When he lowers the cots, they can see that there are weapon racks behind them that are already filled with an assortment of swords, knives, axes, and stakes. The benches are also drawers and this is where the body armor and first aid equipment have been stored.

Willow is already inside and gives them a quick wave and a smile from her workstation, which consists of a computer terminal and a half dozen small monitors mounted to the walls that offer a video image in full color. Unlike the way it originally came, where there was no access between the front and the back of the car, this one has a large open space above where the front seats are and a couple of steps to make it easy, if awkward, to move from the driver's position to the rear of the vehicle without ever leaving it. Hung and squirreled away in various places are things like a re-purposed spice rack that now holds commonly used spell components, a brand new ten-gallon metal fuel can that has been relabeled as being used for holy water as well as another that is being used for its original purpose. There is also a large cooler on a rack and a bucket-style porta-potty. Willow speaks up.

"Oz said he would be happy to drive when he isn't doing a gig, and I can keep an eye on things pretty well when I am in here through the cameras. I would like to get us some radios we can use and a signal relay mounted on this to increase the range and reliability, but that is some pretty expensive hardware. It will probably have to wait. Until then Xander and I picked up some walkie-talkies and I ran the antennae through a wire to the radio antennae for the truck, set it up so I can use a headset in here. It's not ideal, but it's still a pretty sweet setup. Just don't expect responses if you are in mausoleums or underground, these signals will be pretty weak until we upgrade."

The show and tell lasts nearly an hour, and then they all go into the house to have dinner, Joyce having demanded that Willow eat a home-cooked meal since she was there.

Giles once again shows up after dinner to partake of tea and a small bowl of ice cream. Once everybody is settled, he turns to Buffy.

"I need you to be very careful for the next few weeks. I received a phone call from one of my few friends left on the Watchers Council, and there has been an authorized hit squad sent to North America. Rumors persist that it has nothing to do with you or Faith, and is instead tied to the Slayer called after Faith was recently (ahem) temporarily deceased. Even still, I wouldn't put it past the council to send them here when they are done with their current assignment. Caution is the order of the day."

Buff scowls at this. "Who is the new Slayer? Is there any way we can help her?"

Giles, unbelievably, offers a slight smile at this. "To be truthful, Buffy, if the rumors I have heard are in any way accurate, I am uncertain that she actually needs our help, or would accept it if we could find her to offer it."

>>>>

In Florida, about the same time.

The young girl, sixteen years old and barely taller than five foot three, snorts in disgust as she cleans the blade of her naginata, a mid-sized Japanese spear with a long blade. How in the fuck did these jerks keep finding her? Who were they even? Seeing one of them twitch, she kicks his hand to force him to release his hold on his assault rifle.

"Hey, shit for brains! Who the hell are you assclowns anyway, I am getting tired of kicking you idiots around the place."

The man's eyes lock onto hers, and it is only a slight glance that gives him away, but it is apparently too much. The spear flashes out and sticks the only other survivor in the chest as he was trying to reach for his weapon.

"Look you pussy, I don't have time for this. Fucking tell me what I want to know or you can spend the rest of your life being called 'That guy that used to have balls."

His eyes go wide. "We are from the Watchers Council."

At the sound of his voice, her eyes narrow. "A Brit, huh? What are you tea-slurping fucknobs doing coming after me? I've never even been to England. Kinda gotta go there before I can piss anybody off too bad, right?"

"You...You are the Slayer. A slayer that kills her Watcher needs to be put down for the good of all mankind."

"Watcher? Wait, are you talking about that creepy nitwit that followed me into the lady's room last week and chucked a knife at my head?"

The man coughs up blood and nods. "The sacred test. As old as the Watchers Council."

"Yeah, and as dumb as a bag of wet rats left in front of a Zamboni. That moron committed suicide by cultural misunderstanding. It wasn't my fucking fault."

Even as hurt as he is, the man looks confused.

"I returned his knife. I assumed that where he came from throwing knives at somebody's head is a greeting. I try to be tolerant of others. When it's convenient." The smirk she is offering him at this does more than anything else he has seen today to let him know that he is probably going to die.

"So, here is how this is gonna work. I am going to ask a series of questions. Every time you don't answer or I think you are lying to me, I am going to stab you. A random spot. I don't really need you, I am sure whoever sent you will send some other tiny dicked imbecile, but assuming that you want to live, I'll give you a chance. If I think you have been especially cooperative, I'll even call an ambulance before I leave. Sound good?"

An hour later...

"Lizewski residence, this is Dave."

There is a slight pause, then. "Really? That was the most boring way to answer a phone I have ever heard of. Are we going for Wally-World door greeter levels of competence here?"

Dave grins and leans back. "Hey, Mindy. This just a call to say hi or do you need something?"

There is a sigh on the other end of the line. "Yeah, I might need a hand. I tried to go legit, I really did. Finished up junior year, planning to finish up senior and now I got some assholes tracking me down all the time. I can't deal with school and these jerk-offs, and I know that you are waiting a bit to go to college. I just thought maybe you could, you know, if I paid you a bunch of money and offered to finish up your training, stay here until the end of the school year. Maybe we can try to do something about these fucktards on Christmas break or something. They're in England if you can believe that shit."

Dave thinks about it. "Sure, I guess. There isn't anything holding me here anymore. Not really. Where are you at?"

There is a long sigh on the phone. "Thanks. I have to sleep sometime and these weirdos seem to be able to lock on to me somehow. I'm in Miami. I figured with the amount of drugs that come through here it would make for a fun weekend job."

"I thought you said you were going legit?" Dave sounds slightly confused but largely resigned.

"I did. Mostly. Bring the pack, a lot of these jackasses like to use boats."

"And the costume?"

The annoyance in her tone is obvious. "It isn't a costume, you dip. It's a uniform. That's your call, but if you don't it doesn't matter. We need to get you something better anyway. Seriously, a green wetsuit? What were you thinking? Can you make it down by the end of the week?"

After a moment's thought: "Yeah. That should be doable. Is this long-term? Should I put the house up for sale?"

Mindy smiles. "Yeah. Get rid of it. Let's live large for a while."

>>>>

Author's Note.
(As an aside, this story predates KA&HG, TSG by like three or four years. It came first, if you care.)
I do not own Kick-Ass or Kick-Ass 2. Marvel published the comic, so I am going to go out on a limb and say that they probably own a lot of the rights to the movies as well, which is what I am basing these characters on. I am screwing with the timeline extensively, but I think you figured that out already and it is pretty much expected in crossovers anyway. These two are not going to be a major part of the story. But every few chapters we might get a blurb from them or from Giles talking about their exploits.

Because I find the whole concept hilarious.

 

[EnygmaSoul]

Slayer Mindy is GLORIOUS. Like she needed to be better at killing assholes. Or more prone to violence as a solution. .....come to think of it, the Slayer spirit is kind of redundant for her

 

[Datatroll]

Chapter 19
Unconventional Mommies.

>>>>

It is early morning a week after Mommy got her new car. Her Mommy likes big cars, she decides. She gets to ride in the back with the Red-Tree and Mommy and the Buffy-Slayer. She gets a whole comfy bench all to herself while the Red-Tree sits on a swiveling soft chair and the other two share the other bench. The OzWolf and the G-man are in the front driving. They are going hunting! Mommy said that they are going to the same spot as the Badmans were before, the enemy pack that needed to be shown their place. Mommy decided that the nest there was too good for the ones that had it, and they were going to make it theirs. Missy approves of this idea.

When they arrive, the G-Man gets out and speaks with a jovial, short-haired, and somewhat portly man. Missy knows because she puts her feet up on the back of the seats and watches while The G-Man scribbles with a writing stick on some papers and then the man gives the G-Man a ring with metal thingies on it and then the G-Man opens a big red door and lets all the sunlight into the dark spaces. Missy gives the OzWolf a little lick on the cheek when he isn't looking. Mommy said that the Ozwolf is sick, but that this Pack takes care of their sick instead of driving them off to die without risking the rest of the Pack. Missy still isn't sure that she agrees, it goes against so much. But Mommy is Mommy, and so she will do her best to take care of this poor, diseased, dangerous Packmate. Sadly, there isn't a whole lot that she can do. But she can try. Maybe it will help. She sees the OzWolf smile at least, so he isn't mad at her despite their rough start.

That makes Missy feel a little bad because it means that he is a better and more loyal member of Mommy's Pack than Missy is. She'll have to work on that.

The Ozwolf backs the truck into the building through the red door opening, and then the G-Man gets back into Mommy's new car. After that, it is her turn. Hers and Mommy's and the Buffy-Slayers. They open the back door and Missy springs out, excited to finally be here. The big building is full of stuff, there is stuff everywhere, old stuff and moldy stuff and more than a little decayed and dead stuff, and deeper in the maze of piles of old stuff she can hear moving stuff, and the moving stuff is what they are here for and without thinking she runs and leaps towards the sound and hears behind her Mommy yelling at her to wait but it is too late and then...

She lands. She lands and sees that there are people standing up around her. Three or four or five or some number higher than that but Missy loses count. She can smell them though, and they smell like the Spike badman. Not just like, but enough like. Enough like that she doesn't feel the need to ask Mommy and just bites one on the leg, ripping him from his feet. She can feel blows to her backside, and they hurt. But she can also hear Mommy coming quickly, and the Buffy-Slayer even quicker. So she doesn't worry overmuch about these others and instead plants a giant forepaw on the chest of the one that is down and changes her jaws grip from the mutilated leg to the bare neck. She feels the skin and flesh tear like tissue paper under her jaws, and exhales as the crack of the vertebrae giving way sounds loud in the warehouse, trying to keep the dust from staying in her mouth when she pulls the head away.

It kind of works, but it still tastes horrible.

Mommy and Buffy-Slayer are here now, and While Missy is very powerful and good at killing the Badmans (She knows because Mommy tells her!) they have learned that the quickest way for the three of them to deal with badmans is for Mommy to brawl, using Mommy's great reach and huge swings with the machete or sometimes a big ax. Mommy will keep the bulk of them busy and on their toes. While that is happening, Missy and the Buffy-Slayer move through the fight like untouchable wraiths, Buffy-Slayer staking anything that gets close to her and Missy giving her opportunities by ripping at feet, legs, and sometimes even hands and arms. She does do damage, it is almost hard not to. But that isn't really her job. Her job is to harry and weaken. To pull off balance and to sow chaos and confusion among the enemy pack with her insane speed, cackling laugh, and snapping jaws. To open up opportunities for the Buffy-Slayer to exploit.

Exploit she does, and in nearly no time at all the fight is done. This particular building is mostly one big room with a corner of it that is smaller rooms. There were a lot of badmans, and it might have made for a fun time. But they must have made Mommy very, very angry because Mommy takes the time to climb the walls and clean off, remove obstructions, and sometimes just break painted over skylights and windows. By the time they are done, there really isn't anywhere for the badmans that hate the sun to be, and so the fight is really kind of sad for them as they cling to the small scraps of shadow that remain until they are hunted down in them. Missy would feel bad for them if they were Pack.

But, they're not. So it's okay.

Once the big space is clear and bathed in light, they start on the area in the front that has people doors and little rooms. Even there though, Mommy is really spiteful to them. Rather than go into their little rooms, Mommy breaks down the walls and lets the light into the weird little box made for peoples. Mommy spends an hour with a crowbar just breaking it all, and every so often something will come out of the debris screaming and crying and sometimes begging and then Missy will leap on it and the Buffy-slayer will stake it.

And then they are done.

>>>>

>> Six days earlier, at the Magic Box.
"Can we practice daggers for a while, Giles? I'm getting tired of having my brain thumped." Xander half complains after once again getting a light crack against his temple by a now snickering Buffy using her staff.

Her wide grin adds insult to injury as she sits at the table next to the training mats and pulls a bottle of water out of the cooler. Throwing another one to Xander as he gratefully sits down and they both drink deeply while toweling some of the sweat off. Then she has a question. "What I want to know is when are we going to go deal with Spike's old place. We can't let it sit and fester too long, that way lies badness and it has been rotting for a while now."

Xander rolls his eyes. "Do we have to? Riley and his stooge crew know it's there. Sooner or later they'll get to it and it is the one spot in town other than your house that we can be almost positive they are keeping an eye on. Taking it on ourselves is just begging to have video of us posted on whatever the super-secret, secret squirrels of the world use as a bulletin board forever, and that's the best-case scenario. Wouldn't put it past those cheese weasels to try to tranq us or something on the way out."

Buffy looks a bit shocked at that declaration. "Do you really think so?"

Xander shrugs. "Honestly, I am a little surprised it hasn't already happened. These guys aren't being real picky in who they haul off. I had a chat with Willy yesterday and they have been hauling off anybody that isn't baseline human. Enough of them that it is really cutting into his bottom line. They haven't bothered anybody that is an actual taxpayer yet as far as he knows, but the way they are going it's only a matter of time. How long until one of their marks explains that the Slayer is this supernaturally powerful blonde ex-cheerleader warrior that turns demons into fertilizer and they decide you might be a threat? Or they get me on camera doing something I shouldn't be able to? How long until some scum they pick up trades our werewolf or witch to them for a pack of cigarettes? Hell, as desperate as they seem to be for information, they'd probably pin a suspected terrorist badge on Giles if they had any inkling of what he knows, and spent the next twenty years beating him for information."

Every face at the table is getting more and more ashen save Giles, as he was expecting this to have already become a problem which is why he warned them all before to avoid these people. "I suspect Xander is probably correct. Frankly, I would have hoped that they were either competent enough that we might take some time off, or harmless enough that we could ignore them. Unfortunately, they seem to stick firmly on the side of incompetent and yet dangerous."

At this, Joyce looks up from where she was helping Dawn with her homework. "Actually, I have an idea for that building if you think it is important enough."

Pretty much everybody freezes. Stops what they are doing, and turns to Joyce with various looks of astonishment.

"Wow. Thanks, guys. I'm not stupid you know, us older gals can have ideas too."

Willow is the one to tackle that. "That's not it, Mrs. Summers. W-we all know that you are plenty smart, we just didn't think you approved of this at all."

Shaking her head, Joyce responds after a sad chuckle. "Unfortunately, my disapproval won't make the evil go away, and it won't stop Buffy from being involved in it. So I have had to put more effort into the problem than just saying no. Honestly, it was Xander that got me thinking about it. Unconventional solutions to the problems, I mean."

She digs through her large purse for a legal envelope full of paperwork. "That piece of property, like a lot of other such places in town, has been kind of an orphan of the legal system for probably forty or fifty years. Probably something the old mayor did if I understand what has been going on. It hasn't been assessed in that long, and when the original owners died and the unpaid back taxes reverted it to the city, they just left it. We can buy the property for the cost of the back taxes but not to exceed the estimated value of the property. Since it hasn't been assessed in so long, the property is pennies on the dollar. Honestly, it would get snapped up easily except that the city never advertises these properties. They just kind of fade into the backdrop. It actually took a bit of digging through my lawyer to get this."

Giles looks at her and motions for the envelope, which Xander passes to him, and starts looking at the information. "All that is well and good Joyce, but how does owning the property help us deal with what is inside, and what do we do once we have it?"

She nods as if expecting the question. "Well, first of all, as I understand it the reason that you don't just deal with vampires during the day is that you would get seen breaking and entering to do it. So, wouldn't it be a lot easier to clear a place like this if you owned it? I mean, it is a warehouse. If we owned it we could just throw open the door and drive Xander's truck in. Take them out in the daylight when they couldn't get away, and we could keep an eye on the entrances to make sure Riley and his people aren't making an appearance. Not that I think they would during the day. I am guessing there probably aren't any cameras in the building, so as long as we keep the doors and any ground floor windows blocked, we should be good on that front. If anybody asks us about the noise, a certain amount of banging around is expected when buying a new property like this. As for screams, now that I know what is going on I am amazed at what gets ignored in this town. I don't think we really have to worry about that. More's the pity."

She gets herself a water bottle of her own and gulps a few swallows before she continues. "Anyway, what got me thinking about this in the first place was that I was trying to figure out why Spike wanted that spot. I mean, the impression I get from you all is that the jerk that threw a brick at my head is important in vampire culture. A leader, master, or whatever. So theoretically he could choose from any number of spots and the things that were there would have to either leave or join up or whatever. It got pretty obvious once I looked at a map though."

She pulls a laminated map of the city that looks like it was printed off the Sunnydale home page out of her purse. "The red circle is the property. The bronze is about six blocks away. The mall is ten. The old high school and Hellmouth twelve, and the college campus thirteen the other direction. Every cemetery in the city is within a mile, there are no churches within four blocks in any direction, and the waterfront is only a half-mile away. If you are a vampire, or are fighting vampires, it is probably the single best location you could choose that isn't just a blockade located on the Hellmouth itself. We really need to either buy it and use it or buy it and have it demolished. Leaving it there is just helping the bad guys."

She takes another drink as Giles starts nodding at her assessment, then she continues. "If the inside looks anything like the outside, it will be a money pit. But if we go in on a loan together as the owners of my gallery and your magic shop we can get the funds to get work done on it, and Xander was pretty handy with a hammer even before he was some kind of superkid, I figure between him and Buffy they could get the place in good enough shape to use as a base of sorts as well as a warehouse for our businesses in short order and on the cheap. Once we've done that we can keep talking, but Giles, there are dozens of properties like this scattered around town. I hate to make a profit off of the misery of others, but if we start buying and clearing them this vampire hunting thing can be done safer, quicker, and cleaner. Then we fix up the property, maybe you and Willow can do something to make it less likely the same thing happens again, and we can sell at a huge profit. Since your precious council left you out in the cold, I assume that your efforts could use the cash. Also, if Xander and Buffy are effectively self employed doing this, then we never have to worry about their jobs getting in the way of their supposed calling."

Xander speaks up now. "Mrs. S, Your faith in me is really nice, honestly, but there is a huge difference between hanging a door and rebuilding a warehouse. I don't know that I can do this."

"Pshaw. Of course you can. Read a book or three if you have to. Anybody that can start picking up Sumerian and ancient Greek in their Junior year can figure out basic construction principles. I'm not asking you to rewire the place, we'll need to call in professionals for that, but fixing siding and roofing, filling in cracks with concrete and putty? Hanging a few doors? I have great faith in you and Buffy."

And so, that's what they did.

>>>>

>> Back in Florida.
He'd been strapped to this chair for two days. Entire rolls of duct tape applied while he was paralyzed by the bitch sticking her spear blade through his neck while he was desperately trying to crawl away on his elbows and knees, the cheeky little shit having used some kind of machine pistol to remove his lower arm and legs.

For two days, she has been experimenting with ways to hurt him. Shivs, fire, acid, bullets of various types. Eventually, the pain got so bad he just started telling her how to do it properly when she removed the spear, but she either didn't believe him or she wasn't done playing yet. It looked like such an easy meal, too. Little girl, wandering alone at night. She was wearing some kind of purple costume and wig, but hey, it's the second week in October. People dress funny sometimes close to Halloween. Parties and such. Dragged him five blocks through the streets with a spear hanging out of his neck and not one person offered or made any effort to rescue him.

Damn humans.

Of course, his demon face was stuck in the 'on' position, so that probably didn't help. Then the doorbell rings in her loft and she suddenly goes from testing the combustible properties of his hair to smiling like a maniac and checking herself in a mirror before she runs down to answer the door.

Fucking little girls.

>>>>

Throwing the door open after having checked the monitor for the camera in the hall, she can't hide the smile that springs out on her face. "Dave! Get in here, you are not gonna believe what I found!"

A few minutes later sees the two of them standing in front of a guy that is missing the important bits off of all of his limbs, and has obviously been put through the kind of days that a person would rather die than experience.

"Check this out!" With that she picks up her spear and shoves it through his neck again. His squirming ceases, though his mouth still moves up and down, and his eyes still move between them as though begging for release.

"Jesus Mindy, what the heck are you doing!?" Dave gasps out, looking more than a little green around the gills.

Mindy rolls her eyes. "Relax, dork. Whatever this thing is, it likes to attack little girls in the street and it definitely isn't human." With that she pulls the spear out of his neck and sets it to the side. After a few seconds and to Dave's amazement the hole starts to heal up. "What is it, an alien?"

The man covered in blood and duct tape answers before Mindy can. "I'm just a guy, and she's just a psycho, man, you gotta help me!"

Mindy looks pissed and Dave just looks at him as though confused. "What do you expect me to do?"

The man, looking desperate now as Mindy looks about to open her mouth. "Just help me out of here, call the police, anything, for the love of god!"

That makes Mindy cheer up. In the sense that her face goes from an angry scowl to a wicked smirk. "Yeah, motherfucker, let's get you loving god while the adults are talking.

Then she stuffs a ball gag into his mouth and uses the heat-resistant tape found on engines to fasten a small cross to his right eye. The two walk away as the muffled screams and smoke start coming from his head.

Once in the kitchen, Dave has calmed some. "So, what is that?"

Mindy looks up from the fridge and tosses him a soda. After she sits she shrugs while she pops her own can. "He says he's a vampire. But if he is Hollywood is way off the mark, cause he is probably fifty shades worth of sparkle free worthless. Pseudo dominant shitsucker, attacking an innocent girl out for a midnight stroll."

Dave raises his eyebrows.

"Well, I could have been, how the fuck would he know?"

Dave sighs, taps the top of his can so it won't explode, and pops the top to have a sip. "So, what do we know?"

Mindy puts her feet up on the table. "Well, I know that anything that can hurt a person can hurt him. But he recovers really fast most of the time. If you remove bits it doesn't seem to grow back, crosses and stuff burn him, and for some dumb ass reason he seems really combustible. Like, if you threw a fucking lighter at him and it hit wrong he could go up like a torch. Not sure what's up with that. Maybe he just uses hair gel all over or something. He says he can be killed by decapitation, a stake through the heart, sunlight, all the classics."

Dave looks confused. "Why would he tell you that?"

She shrugs. "I told him if he told me what I wanted to know I'd let him go."

"But he's still here."

Mindy rolls her eyes. "Of course he's still here, motherfucker attacked me. And he's a vampire, maybe. Even if he wasn't either of those though, he let slip while he was trying to take me out that he's been doing this shit where he rapes and then drinks little girls for like fifty years. The boy is gonna fucking die here in as painful a way as I can possibly manage it. Wanna help?"

"Can we get my stuff unloaded first? I need to get the truck back before they charge me for another day."

She smiles. "Yeah, no problem. Dude will keep for a while. Wanna grab dinner while we are out?"

Dave crushes his can and makes a three-point shot into the kitchen trash. "Sounds good. Any worry about your neighbors hearing him?"

"Nope, I own the building. The rest of it is empty aside from some storage on the ground floor."

>>>>

>> Thirteen hours later...
"Dave, get the vacuum, will ya? Hall closet. No, the door on the left. Your other left."