Hellmouth Heroes
folder
BtVS AU/AR › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
17
Views:
2,661
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
2
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
17
Views:
2,661
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
2
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of its characters. I intend to make no profit from this story.
15
FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (15/?)
“Any idea why we’re here?”
Jonathan started slightly at Gunn’s deep voice beside him. It didn’t matter how long the gang were together, the tough demon hunter continued to slightly intimidate. Jonathan guessed it was because unlike him, Gunn wasn’t just artificially tough and competent, he’d been that way before the spell. He was the real deal. Jonathan started to shrug when the corrugated iron door to the gym where Xander lived flew up and Xander walked out. “Hey guys, where’s Oz? I asked him to be here too,” Xander grinned suddenly when Oz’s multi-coloured van came around the corner and halted beside them, the rock guitarist jumping out of the door, “ah here he is.”
”This is early to be up on a Saturday,” Gunn commented.
”Yeah,” Xander shrugged at the big black’s words, “tell me about it, but this is the only time they’d deliver.”
”Deliver?” Oz raised an eyebrow.
”Yeah,” Xander looked at his watch, “they should be here in a minute. But I’ve ordered some equipment for us-.”
“Do we need more weapons?” Gunn snorted.
”No, not weapons,” Xander replied with a grin, “I think we’ve got our fill of swords, axes, and guns. No this is other stuff.”
”Other stuff?” Jonathan queried.
“Let’s see,” Xander pulled a list out of his pocket, Jonathan gasping at its length, “rapelling devices, large and small flashlights, chemical light sticks, haz-mat suits, gas-masks, night-vision goggles, compasses, grappling hooks, several hundred feet of rope, binoculars, first aid kits, rucksacks.” Xander took a momentary breath before continuing relentlessly on. “Tazers, all-terrain watches including compasses, altimeters, barometers, ballistic vests, survival matches, padded gloves, handcuffs, tents, sleeping bags, fire extinguishers, bolt-cutters, crowbars, door-breachers, saws, hammers, and camp stoves.”
Xander looked up. “Em, that’s about it.”
A stunned silence followed Xander’s words. “All that,” Jonathan gasped, “in one truck?”
“Um, no three,” Xander half-grinned, “that’s why I asked you guys here, no way am I unloading them on my own.”
”I’d watch for him,” Gunn muttered, Jonathan realised the African-American was talking to him, “in ten years’ time, you’ll find him in the Everglades, living with some crazy neo-Christian cult screaming about the end of the world.”
Xander glared at the LA transplant. “For that you’re carrying DOUBLE.”
“How are we paying for this?” Jonathan queried.
Xander reddened. ”Eh, Willow’s hacking.”
Oz smiled. “That’s my girl, keeping the world safe through criminal activity.”
* * *
Faith strode out of Giles’ bookshop to find her best bud leaning against the shop window, his eyes fixed on the night sky. “Hey,” Faith bumped hips with Xander as she stood beside him, her hands thrusting into her jeans’ pockets, “what ya doin’?”
Xander shrugged, his gaze not shifting. “Just thinking.”
“Thinkin’?” Faith looked up at her companion. “Should I send for a doctor?” When Xander didn’t respond to her barb, she nudged his hip with hers. “What’s the stich?”
Xander’s half-smile was full of pain and sadness. “I had a friend,” Faith studiously looked away when Xan wiped at his eyes, “Jesse, he died the first day Buffy came to town, a vampire turned him, I had to kill him.”
Shit, having to stake your own best friend, that was majorly harsh. Faith’s stomach hollowed. “Sorry man.”
Xander nodded slightly at her muttered words. “I can’t help thinking,” Xander half-laughed, “heck haven’t been able to stop thinking since it happened, if I, we’d had our powers then, we might have never have lost him.”
And the other Slayer might have never died, and she might never had been Called. A chill twisted her insides at the thought of not having the power to stand up for herself, of still being the friendless, hurt girl she’d once been. “And if you hadn’t got your powers when you did, we might never have become friends,” she countered.
“You can never have too many friends,” Xander replied, “new ones don’t have to replace the old ones.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Faith shrugged, the subject of friends wasn’t somethin’ she was ‘xactly an expert at, having never had any ‘fore hitting Sunnydale. “Look, I don’t know much about this friendship crap, I’m just glad you’re here, and that’s about it.” Xander half-smiled. “Now get your ass inside, I think Alana’s coveting it.” Xander nodded. “And hey, if you ever need to talk about Jesse, you know where I am, bud.”
”Thanks, Faith.” Xander grinned as they walked in to find Giles pulling open a crate.
“Ah, excellent!” the Englishman beamed. “Those Watcher Diaries I requested.” The middle-aged man looked up. “I hope they’re rather more digestible than the last ones, unfortunately some of the Watchers of the past had a tendency towards long-windedness.”
“Long winded Watchers?” Gunn shook his head. “Just not feasible.”
“I’m staggered,” Oz dead-panned.
* * *
Penn smiled as he tracked the oblivious woman, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, her scent in his nostrils. For months he’d been hearing stories about mysterious hunters other than the Slayer on the Hellmouth and as a result he’d resisted coming, but in the end. the hellmouth’s allure was too much.
Seeing the woman enter an alley between two shops, he dropped off the roof to land in a crouch in front of her, fangs and yellow eyes showing. “Oh no!” the woman shrilled before spinning on her heel and starting out of the alley.
A single leap took him over the woman. “Going somewhere?” he hissed, delighting in her terror.
”Maybe she’s off to get a vacuum to Hoover you up, dust?”
Penn spun to face the interlopers, a trio of youths. He punched at the biggest of the group. “Aaaah!” He staggered backwards, shocked when his hand bounced off the youth’s impossibly hard head without making a mark but tearing the skin off his knuckles. And then the second biggest youth leapt feet-first into the alley’s left wall, bouncing off it with simian agility to crash into him and knock him into the wall.
Stunned, he barely had chance to register the fire flying towards him and then he was bursting into flames, pain engulfing him.
“Like I said,” the third youth’s voice was the last thing he heard before his death, “dust.”
* * *
Giles couldn’t help but smile as he played his guitar, the ending of the song met by claps and cheers as the singer sat down. The group nights had become a weekly event, him playing his guitar and whoever felt like it joining him on the raised step and singing. It was an unusual way for a Watcher to relax with his Slayer and her companions, but it helped.
Beneath her leather armour and sexual aggressiveness there was a hurting child who’d been robbed of her childhood, first by horrifyingly abusive parents, and then by the fates that had chosen her as their warrior. And by god, she had such potential, such spirit, and loyalty to those who gave her even the slightest affection or attention.
It was his duty as her Watcher to feed that potential. It was his duty as a caring adult to nurture that spirit, and fill her life with as much happiness as possible.
And so these get-togethers had begun, fuelled by a hope that music could somehow bind the group closer together, give them something other than demons and vampires in common. He’d found to his surprise that a number of his companions had quite reasonable voices. Xander’s was more than capable of holding a tune, while Faith’s had a smokiness that was reminiscent of a jazz singer with all the incumbent pain that entailed, while Jenny’s was quite sweet. However he was of the firm opinion whoever told Miss Chase she could sing should be stuffed into a canon and shot out of it.
Giles smiled as Tara rose, a nervous yet expectant look on the shy witch’s face. The normally quiet honey-blonde had the prize voice though, a voice that was stunning both in its power and its clarity.
“Oh bollocks,” Giles cursed, nostrils flaring as he sensed something very evil approaching. It appeared they would be denied the New Mexican’s singing tonight. Putting aside his guitar he rose and looked around. “It appears we have most unwelcome visitors, and rather a lot of them.” It took him a second to formulate a plan. “Faith, you Charles and Miss. Chase come with me, we’ll perform a reconnaissance to find just who our soon to be unfortunate foes are. Xander,” his gaze turned to the youth who was in all but name his second-in-command, “take the others and get armed. We’ll meet you at the armoury.”
* * *
The Marshal beamed as he and his convoy of twenty trucks rolled into Sunnydale, coming to a halt in the deserted warehouse his agents had secured for him the previous week. “Tonight, an ambitious operation begins,” he smiled. “By morning, I want the half-demons – the Brachens, the vampires, all wiped from existence. By nightfall tomorrow, our main force will join us, then we will butcher the human plague!”
“Sir,” his second-in-command licked his lips. “What about The Paladins?”
The Marshal grimaced at the mention of the mysterious warriors believed to be aiding the Slayer in her battles. “That’s why you two hundred and fifty, my elite, are in this vanguard with me,” he replied, looking around the men massed around him. “Together we will put the Slayer bitch and her helpers in the ground!”
His second nodded. “Split into your troops!” he roared. “Commanders, ready your men, you have your targets, eliminate them!”
* * *
“Jeez, G,” Faith complained as they loped through Sunnydale’s streets, the three physically-enhanced teens following behind him, “can’t ya go any faster? Like any gear other than first?”
“Given the choice, I’d rather not be holding you up,” Giles sniffed at the teen beauty’s comment. “However you need me to lead you to just where I sense the demons are.”
The Slayer snickered. “So you’re like Lassie?”
Giles shot the young warrior a glare stuck half-way between amusement and anger. “Ha, bloody ha.”
Suddenly the Slayer’s face changed, her hand shooting out to grab him by his shoulder and yank him back. “Ssssh,” she brusquely warned, dark eyes warning, “cover now.”
Their fellow companions obeyed immediately, melting in the shadows cast by the jewellery store they’d been passing by. “Oh what a delightful necklace-.”
“Shut it, Queen C!” Faith hissed.
“Well-.”
The former cheerleader’s jaw clamped shut as the sound of marching boots became audible to non-Slayer ears. Giles felt sweat bead on his forehead and his breath caught in his throat as he recognised the demons’ uniforms, chillingly reminiscent of 1940s’ Nazis. Once the twenty demons had marched past, Faith stepped out
“Well Ms. Leathers, there’s no need to be -.”
“Shut up!” Giles sent out a mind-blast together with his message to both girls, hard enough to hurt not hard enough to knock out. “Now is not the time for your bickering,” he warned in a growl.
”She started it,” Faith pouted.
”I did not!” Cordelia placed her hands on her hips as she glared down at the smaller girl.
Giles slapped his forehead as he felt the throbbing start of a humdinger of a headache. “Oh good lord.”
“Did you recognise them Giles?”
“Yes Charles,” Giles looked up and nodded at the black man, “I’m afraid I did, or at least their uniforms, they’re the demonic equivalent of the Nazis, a para-military organisation bent on the extermination of every non-pure demon race on earth, as well as that of humanity itself.”
“Nice people,” after a final glare at Cordelia, Faith looked towards him. “What’s the plan, oh Watcher Guy?”
“Um,” Giles pursed his lips for a second before deciding, “we re-trace their steps and find out just how many of the Scourge are here.” Giles stared at Faith and Cordelia in turn. “You can manage to stay quiet for that long can’t you?”
“Smart-,” Faith gulped at his glare. “Yes sir, Watcher-Boss!”
“Oh god help us all.”
* * *
Faith’s skin crawled as she led her companions into the darkened warehouse, the trucks numbering around twenty. There would have to be one hell of a lot of demons-.
Suddenly the warehouse’s lights went on. “ So this is what triggered our alarms?” laughed an ugly mother-fucker with a face like a battered ball. “This must be the Slayer and some of her Paladins.” The demon looked around. “Grab them!”
“Shit,” Faith looked around as the remaining Scourge surrounded her and her companions. Most had gone off on various missions, but there were enough left in the base to outnumber them by about twelve to one. “Next time ya feel the urge to plan, G, leave it to Xan for fuck’s sake!”
”I’ll bear that in mind Faith.”
* * *
Xander was busy passing out MP5s, his battle-ax already strapped to his back and a pair of sawn-off Mossbergs in shoulder holsters as well as his Desert Eagle strapped to the left side of his waist in a quick holster while K-BAR knifes were sheathed to his right and left ankles.
In short, he was a walking arsenal, living an American teenaged boy’s dream.
Funny how that dream was rather less ‘special’ than he’d hoped a few years ago. Xander looked around, his friends were quickly stripping the armoury bare, each choosing their favourite of the medieval and modern weaponry. If this threat was as big as Giles suspected, he’d have to re-stock in the morning.
Of course that was taking the optimistic view that there would be a morning for them.
Xander groaned as something hit his head. “G-Man,” he shook his head clear, “why me?” Realising everyone was looking at him, he grimaced. “Gang, we’ve got a problem, the enemy, a group of demons called the Scourge-.”
“Oh good lord!”
Xander nodded, clearly Wesley knew who they were, that was good, they weren’t going to be going in blind. “Seems to be around two hundred and fifty strong and have grabbed Giles and the others.” He ignored Jenny’s muffled gasp. “Wes, why don’t you tell us about them as we finish getting ready?”
“Very well,” Xander listened as the Watcher talked, half-concentrating on the Englishman’s speech and half-concentrating just how to react to the quartet’s capture.
“Okay,” Xander decided as Wesley finished. “They die if you stick enough holes in them?”
Wesley nodded. “They’re not particularly strong demons, perhaps as powerful as a three or four decades old vampire,” the Watcher replied, “just more well-organised than most.”
”Okay then,” Xander nodded, grimacing inwardly as he noticed everyone’s expectant faces. Relying on him for a plan, well that was a bright idea. “Giles and the others are being held in the old Cybersoft warehouse. “What we’re going to do is split into three groups. Wesley,” he nodded at the Englishman, “I want you to take Amy, Oz, and Alana with you, and start hunting the enemy units throughout town, causing chaos. The rest of you apart from Jenny,” he glanced towards the gypsy, “are hitting the factory from the far end, while Jenny sneaks in and unties the others.”
”We’re awfully out-numbered,” Wood commented. “Perhaps it would be wise to get the potentials to help us.”
“No,” Xander shook his head. He raised his hand at Wood’s opening mouth. “We should start the girls off on normal patrols before working them into the mix into something as dangerous as this. But you’re right, they need to be trained to combat readiness.”
“They’re awfully young,” objected Willow.
“They’re the same age we were when we started hunting, and they have a few advantages we didn’t,” Xander pointed out before looking around. “Every one ready? Let’s move!”
“Any idea why we’re here?”
Jonathan started slightly at Gunn’s deep voice beside him. It didn’t matter how long the gang were together, the tough demon hunter continued to slightly intimidate. Jonathan guessed it was because unlike him, Gunn wasn’t just artificially tough and competent, he’d been that way before the spell. He was the real deal. Jonathan started to shrug when the corrugated iron door to the gym where Xander lived flew up and Xander walked out. “Hey guys, where’s Oz? I asked him to be here too,” Xander grinned suddenly when Oz’s multi-coloured van came around the corner and halted beside them, the rock guitarist jumping out of the door, “ah here he is.”
”This is early to be up on a Saturday,” Gunn commented.
”Yeah,” Xander shrugged at the big black’s words, “tell me about it, but this is the only time they’d deliver.”
”Deliver?” Oz raised an eyebrow.
”Yeah,” Xander looked at his watch, “they should be here in a minute. But I’ve ordered some equipment for us-.”
“Do we need more weapons?” Gunn snorted.
”No, not weapons,” Xander replied with a grin, “I think we’ve got our fill of swords, axes, and guns. No this is other stuff.”
”Other stuff?” Jonathan queried.
“Let’s see,” Xander pulled a list out of his pocket, Jonathan gasping at its length, “rapelling devices, large and small flashlights, chemical light sticks, haz-mat suits, gas-masks, night-vision goggles, compasses, grappling hooks, several hundred feet of rope, binoculars, first aid kits, rucksacks.” Xander took a momentary breath before continuing relentlessly on. “Tazers, all-terrain watches including compasses, altimeters, barometers, ballistic vests, survival matches, padded gloves, handcuffs, tents, sleeping bags, fire extinguishers, bolt-cutters, crowbars, door-breachers, saws, hammers, and camp stoves.”
Xander looked up. “Em, that’s about it.”
A stunned silence followed Xander’s words. “All that,” Jonathan gasped, “in one truck?”
“Um, no three,” Xander half-grinned, “that’s why I asked you guys here, no way am I unloading them on my own.”
”I’d watch for him,” Gunn muttered, Jonathan realised the African-American was talking to him, “in ten years’ time, you’ll find him in the Everglades, living with some crazy neo-Christian cult screaming about the end of the world.”
Xander glared at the LA transplant. “For that you’re carrying DOUBLE.”
“How are we paying for this?” Jonathan queried.
Xander reddened. ”Eh, Willow’s hacking.”
Oz smiled. “That’s my girl, keeping the world safe through criminal activity.”
* * *
Faith strode out of Giles’ bookshop to find her best bud leaning against the shop window, his eyes fixed on the night sky. “Hey,” Faith bumped hips with Xander as she stood beside him, her hands thrusting into her jeans’ pockets, “what ya doin’?”
Xander shrugged, his gaze not shifting. “Just thinking.”
“Thinkin’?” Faith looked up at her companion. “Should I send for a doctor?” When Xander didn’t respond to her barb, she nudged his hip with hers. “What’s the stich?”
Xander’s half-smile was full of pain and sadness. “I had a friend,” Faith studiously looked away when Xan wiped at his eyes, “Jesse, he died the first day Buffy came to town, a vampire turned him, I had to kill him.”
Shit, having to stake your own best friend, that was majorly harsh. Faith’s stomach hollowed. “Sorry man.”
Xander nodded slightly at her muttered words. “I can’t help thinking,” Xander half-laughed, “heck haven’t been able to stop thinking since it happened, if I, we’d had our powers then, we might have never have lost him.”
And the other Slayer might have never died, and she might never had been Called. A chill twisted her insides at the thought of not having the power to stand up for herself, of still being the friendless, hurt girl she’d once been. “And if you hadn’t got your powers when you did, we might never have become friends,” she countered.
“You can never have too many friends,” Xander replied, “new ones don’t have to replace the old ones.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Faith shrugged, the subject of friends wasn’t somethin’ she was ‘xactly an expert at, having never had any ‘fore hitting Sunnydale. “Look, I don’t know much about this friendship crap, I’m just glad you’re here, and that’s about it.” Xander half-smiled. “Now get your ass inside, I think Alana’s coveting it.” Xander nodded. “And hey, if you ever need to talk about Jesse, you know where I am, bud.”
”Thanks, Faith.” Xander grinned as they walked in to find Giles pulling open a crate.
“Ah, excellent!” the Englishman beamed. “Those Watcher Diaries I requested.” The middle-aged man looked up. “I hope they’re rather more digestible than the last ones, unfortunately some of the Watchers of the past had a tendency towards long-windedness.”
“Long winded Watchers?” Gunn shook his head. “Just not feasible.”
“I’m staggered,” Oz dead-panned.
* * *
Penn smiled as he tracked the oblivious woman, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, her scent in his nostrils. For months he’d been hearing stories about mysterious hunters other than the Slayer on the Hellmouth and as a result he’d resisted coming, but in the end. the hellmouth’s allure was too much.
Seeing the woman enter an alley between two shops, he dropped off the roof to land in a crouch in front of her, fangs and yellow eyes showing. “Oh no!” the woman shrilled before spinning on her heel and starting out of the alley.
A single leap took him over the woman. “Going somewhere?” he hissed, delighting in her terror.
”Maybe she’s off to get a vacuum to Hoover you up, dust?”
Penn spun to face the interlopers, a trio of youths. He punched at the biggest of the group. “Aaaah!” He staggered backwards, shocked when his hand bounced off the youth’s impossibly hard head without making a mark but tearing the skin off his knuckles. And then the second biggest youth leapt feet-first into the alley’s left wall, bouncing off it with simian agility to crash into him and knock him into the wall.
Stunned, he barely had chance to register the fire flying towards him and then he was bursting into flames, pain engulfing him.
“Like I said,” the third youth’s voice was the last thing he heard before his death, “dust.”
* * *
Giles couldn’t help but smile as he played his guitar, the ending of the song met by claps and cheers as the singer sat down. The group nights had become a weekly event, him playing his guitar and whoever felt like it joining him on the raised step and singing. It was an unusual way for a Watcher to relax with his Slayer and her companions, but it helped.
Beneath her leather armour and sexual aggressiveness there was a hurting child who’d been robbed of her childhood, first by horrifyingly abusive parents, and then by the fates that had chosen her as their warrior. And by god, she had such potential, such spirit, and loyalty to those who gave her even the slightest affection or attention.
It was his duty as her Watcher to feed that potential. It was his duty as a caring adult to nurture that spirit, and fill her life with as much happiness as possible.
And so these get-togethers had begun, fuelled by a hope that music could somehow bind the group closer together, give them something other than demons and vampires in common. He’d found to his surprise that a number of his companions had quite reasonable voices. Xander’s was more than capable of holding a tune, while Faith’s had a smokiness that was reminiscent of a jazz singer with all the incumbent pain that entailed, while Jenny’s was quite sweet. However he was of the firm opinion whoever told Miss Chase she could sing should be stuffed into a canon and shot out of it.
Giles smiled as Tara rose, a nervous yet expectant look on the shy witch’s face. The normally quiet honey-blonde had the prize voice though, a voice that was stunning both in its power and its clarity.
“Oh bollocks,” Giles cursed, nostrils flaring as he sensed something very evil approaching. It appeared they would be denied the New Mexican’s singing tonight. Putting aside his guitar he rose and looked around. “It appears we have most unwelcome visitors, and rather a lot of them.” It took him a second to formulate a plan. “Faith, you Charles and Miss. Chase come with me, we’ll perform a reconnaissance to find just who our soon to be unfortunate foes are. Xander,” his gaze turned to the youth who was in all but name his second-in-command, “take the others and get armed. We’ll meet you at the armoury.”
* * *
The Marshal beamed as he and his convoy of twenty trucks rolled into Sunnydale, coming to a halt in the deserted warehouse his agents had secured for him the previous week. “Tonight, an ambitious operation begins,” he smiled. “By morning, I want the half-demons – the Brachens, the vampires, all wiped from existence. By nightfall tomorrow, our main force will join us, then we will butcher the human plague!”
“Sir,” his second-in-command licked his lips. “What about The Paladins?”
The Marshal grimaced at the mention of the mysterious warriors believed to be aiding the Slayer in her battles. “That’s why you two hundred and fifty, my elite, are in this vanguard with me,” he replied, looking around the men massed around him. “Together we will put the Slayer bitch and her helpers in the ground!”
His second nodded. “Split into your troops!” he roared. “Commanders, ready your men, you have your targets, eliminate them!”
* * *
“Jeez, G,” Faith complained as they loped through Sunnydale’s streets, the three physically-enhanced teens following behind him, “can’t ya go any faster? Like any gear other than first?”
“Given the choice, I’d rather not be holding you up,” Giles sniffed at the teen beauty’s comment. “However you need me to lead you to just where I sense the demons are.”
The Slayer snickered. “So you’re like Lassie?”
Giles shot the young warrior a glare stuck half-way between amusement and anger. “Ha, bloody ha.”
Suddenly the Slayer’s face changed, her hand shooting out to grab him by his shoulder and yank him back. “Ssssh,” she brusquely warned, dark eyes warning, “cover now.”
Their fellow companions obeyed immediately, melting in the shadows cast by the jewellery store they’d been passing by. “Oh what a delightful necklace-.”
“Shut it, Queen C!” Faith hissed.
“Well-.”
The former cheerleader’s jaw clamped shut as the sound of marching boots became audible to non-Slayer ears. Giles felt sweat bead on his forehead and his breath caught in his throat as he recognised the demons’ uniforms, chillingly reminiscent of 1940s’ Nazis. Once the twenty demons had marched past, Faith stepped out
“Well Ms. Leathers, there’s no need to be -.”
“Shut up!” Giles sent out a mind-blast together with his message to both girls, hard enough to hurt not hard enough to knock out. “Now is not the time for your bickering,” he warned in a growl.
”She started it,” Faith pouted.
”I did not!” Cordelia placed her hands on her hips as she glared down at the smaller girl.
Giles slapped his forehead as he felt the throbbing start of a humdinger of a headache. “Oh good lord.”
“Did you recognise them Giles?”
“Yes Charles,” Giles looked up and nodded at the black man, “I’m afraid I did, or at least their uniforms, they’re the demonic equivalent of the Nazis, a para-military organisation bent on the extermination of every non-pure demon race on earth, as well as that of humanity itself.”
“Nice people,” after a final glare at Cordelia, Faith looked towards him. “What’s the plan, oh Watcher Guy?”
“Um,” Giles pursed his lips for a second before deciding, “we re-trace their steps and find out just how many of the Scourge are here.” Giles stared at Faith and Cordelia in turn. “You can manage to stay quiet for that long can’t you?”
“Smart-,” Faith gulped at his glare. “Yes sir, Watcher-Boss!”
“Oh god help us all.”
* * *
Faith’s skin crawled as she led her companions into the darkened warehouse, the trucks numbering around twenty. There would have to be one hell of a lot of demons-.
Suddenly the warehouse’s lights went on. “ So this is what triggered our alarms?” laughed an ugly mother-fucker with a face like a battered ball. “This must be the Slayer and some of her Paladins.” The demon looked around. “Grab them!”
“Shit,” Faith looked around as the remaining Scourge surrounded her and her companions. Most had gone off on various missions, but there were enough left in the base to outnumber them by about twelve to one. “Next time ya feel the urge to plan, G, leave it to Xan for fuck’s sake!”
”I’ll bear that in mind Faith.”
* * *
Xander was busy passing out MP5s, his battle-ax already strapped to his back and a pair of sawn-off Mossbergs in shoulder holsters as well as his Desert Eagle strapped to the left side of his waist in a quick holster while K-BAR knifes were sheathed to his right and left ankles.
In short, he was a walking arsenal, living an American teenaged boy’s dream.
Funny how that dream was rather less ‘special’ than he’d hoped a few years ago. Xander looked around, his friends were quickly stripping the armoury bare, each choosing their favourite of the medieval and modern weaponry. If this threat was as big as Giles suspected, he’d have to re-stock in the morning.
Of course that was taking the optimistic view that there would be a morning for them.
Xander groaned as something hit his head. “G-Man,” he shook his head clear, “why me?” Realising everyone was looking at him, he grimaced. “Gang, we’ve got a problem, the enemy, a group of demons called the Scourge-.”
“Oh good lord!”
Xander nodded, clearly Wesley knew who they were, that was good, they weren’t going to be going in blind. “Seems to be around two hundred and fifty strong and have grabbed Giles and the others.” He ignored Jenny’s muffled gasp. “Wes, why don’t you tell us about them as we finish getting ready?”
“Very well,” Xander listened as the Watcher talked, half-concentrating on the Englishman’s speech and half-concentrating just how to react to the quartet’s capture.
“Okay,” Xander decided as Wesley finished. “They die if you stick enough holes in them?”
Wesley nodded. “They’re not particularly strong demons, perhaps as powerful as a three or four decades old vampire,” the Watcher replied, “just more well-organised than most.”
”Okay then,” Xander nodded, grimacing inwardly as he noticed everyone’s expectant faces. Relying on him for a plan, well that was a bright idea. “Giles and the others are being held in the old Cybersoft warehouse. “What we’re going to do is split into three groups. Wesley,” he nodded at the Englishman, “I want you to take Amy, Oz, and Alana with you, and start hunting the enemy units throughout town, causing chaos. The rest of you apart from Jenny,” he glanced towards the gypsy, “are hitting the factory from the far end, while Jenny sneaks in and unties the others.”
”We’re awfully out-numbered,” Wood commented. “Perhaps it would be wise to get the potentials to help us.”
“No,” Xander shook his head. He raised his hand at Wood’s opening mouth. “We should start the girls off on normal patrols before working them into the mix into something as dangerous as this. But you’re right, they need to be trained to combat readiness.”
“They’re awfully young,” objected Willow.
“They’re the same age we were when we started hunting, and they have a few advantages we didn’t,” Xander pointed out before looking around. “Every one ready? Let’s move!”