SITCOA Ep2 Welcome to the Hellmouth

(Many moon's ago John began to load his series Spike in the City of Angels up on here, and then life issues took over and he stopped. I will admit I have felt guilt. Anyway here we go again and this time I will finish it).

Not every vampire of course makes his home in abandoned warehouses, there's always the danger that some enterprising realtor will sell the property to redevelopers and you'll find your shelter being removed -- in daylight.

No it's far better to own property, at least that was what Otis Jackson figured and in his position of power, nobody was going to argue with him.

He was a large vampire, some who didn't care about life might say fat. He'd feed at every given opportunity, and he didn't care from what -- mortal or animal, if it was red he'd drink it. The fact that he was a Master, therefore, was the grandest of things in his eyes, gave him minions to hunt for him, gave him some time to think.

Think about how to gain control of more of LA. The west of the city was ok, but with Bakull gone, hell the city was open range. How to put together the muscle to deal with two malignant elements in the vampire community who kept trying to piss on his parade. Plus how to stop the idiots he employed from doing really dumb stuff that got the heat down on them like they was standing in the depths of a desert someplace.

He was sat behind a desk, twenty vamps stood before him, two behind -- Ray and Bobba, the only other two vamps in the room with guns. The building was a warehouse, sure, but in Carson, not Compton, where all these vamps had their home ground, and where 'Big Daddy' usually conducted his business.
But what they had done had been done off turf, which is why he had assembled them here.

Twenty vamps, correction twenty scared-looking vamps, Jackson was angry, that was obvious to everyone in the room. They were looking at the floor like boys caught with their hands in the cookie jar, and Otis was glaring at them like he meant to have their fingers.

He held up a copy of the morning paper, the vampires looked at it and licked dry lips. "So which one of you shit for brains cluster fucks is gonna explain to me how dis happened?......What no takers, shit it ain't that difficult a question to answer.....Speak up mutha-fuckers or the boys here open up."

The was a shuffling amongst the rank and a vampire got pushed forward, he was dressed like the inner city gangster he had been before getting turned, no more than a decade old he had still earned a murderous rep in the ghetto.

"Fang Master Fang, or Freddy as I recall you was christened." Otis put the paper down and leaned his elbows on the desk. "Shit homes, I might have known your stupid ass would be behind this. What the fuck was you thinkin' vampire? Don't you know the god damned muther-fuckin' rules?"

"Homes...." Freddy was going very pale, an achievement in his circumstances, and he could tell that returning Otis’s familiar style of address wasn't going get him far. "You sent us out huntin' Mr Jackson, now how was we supposed to know who those kids was...."

"Lights and the cameras, vampire, they must have been a clue." The fat vampires face split into a jovial grin, everyone knew what it mean't. "Bobba did we bring the dust pan? Cause I think we gonna need it."

"Yes sir, I sure did." The vampire was game faced, at five foot six he was dwarfed by the huge silent presence of his partner Big Ray, both vamps had wood loaded M-16's, deadly at close range. Bobba's rat like eyes darted round the room, the vamps had given up their guns too easy, somebody was carrying.

"Good, cause pretty soon we're gonna need it." Otis thought for a second that Freddy might faint, he didn't but he certainly swayed. "Less that is some vampire I could mention gets a whole lot better at explainin', you hearin' me homes, my question which you skippin’ all around is how is it you’ all took out the whole mutha-fuckin' central cast of Beverly Hills fuckin' 90210 and didn't seem to notice?"

Blood was trickling down from the corner of Freddy's mouth, he was biting his lip so hard, but all the same he managed to blurt out, "Please sir we didn't know, it's a honkies show we don't watch it. Now if it had been Will Smith up there then....."

"You don't feed on celebrities, shit vampire, even the dumbest minion knows that." Otis tore the front page off the paper. "Massacre on Santa Monica beach, you know what we gonna have next? Muther-fucking Daniel Sullivan and the special investigation branch of the LAPD armed to the teeth and in here huntin' us, and when that happens, I'm gonna feed him your ass."

"No sir, please sir." Freddy put his hands together in supplication. "I don't wanna go out like that. Just stake me now sir and get it over with. I always been stand up for you, this is just a mistake."

"Mistake mutha-fucka, mistake!" The paper tore up in Jackson's hands. "Son of a bitch, thirty dead celebrity and actors union card carryin’ white folks is not a mistake, it's a fucking death sentence for us all. Ray, you think of any reason not to kill this vampire were he stands?"

Big Ray didn't give his opinion much, so him being asked for it was a bad sign, he though, you could almost see the cogs whirring behind his yellow eyes, and when he spoke his voice was deep and slow. "Well, he did kill Luke Perry boss."

"He did?"

"That's right, sir." Freddy nodded enthusiastically. "And I just now how much you hated that film he was in..."

"Barbi the vampire hunter," Otis morphed and sat back in his chair. "Sure did, most misrepresentative film I ever did see about vampires, but I didn't have no mutha fuckin' argument with the rest of the cast, so that just buys you a head start before I tell the Irishman were to go look.....two hours."

"You gonna let me run Homes?" Freddy bowed his head. "I knew you'd treat me right, like a stand up vamp."

"Why ain't I always been a Daddy to all my......" Otis stopped at the sound of a weapon charger being drawn back behind him, and shook his head as he mouthed the word. "Fuck!"

"Very touching, I'm bloody moved," an English accented voice said from behind him. "Are you moved Browne, 'bought how this bloke was goin’ to forgive his childe his trespasses?"

"No not a bit," a second harder voice replied. "Can we just bleedin' off em now? I'm 'ungry."

"Patience mate, patience. We have the part were he begs for his bloody life to get through yet."

"Mister, with the utmost respect to Mr. Gelfman this ain't none of his concern." Jackson's hand slipped under the desk to the pistol holster fastened to the woodwork and the Colt Detective it contained. "You walk on out back and we'll pretend this never happened."

"Yeah right and as if, also NO, and by the way screw you fat man...."

"Now, now, Spike, no need to get personal with the soon to be a very large pile of ash fat bastard, it is Sol Gelfman's concern, you broke the bloody code." Browne shouldered his MP5 and aimed it at the heart of one of Jackson's bodyguards. "An' for that you die!"

A whole lot of stuff happened at once. Spike and Brown cut down the two M16 armed vamps before they could even turn, garlic laced rounds sent white smoke pouring from the vampires wounds.

Big Daddy turned in his chair and got riddled as both vamps sprayed him.

Then Freddy and three of his Homies drew pistols and fired back.

Browne took a bullet in the shoulder and spun, still though he managed to rake the scattering group with the remains of a clip. "Bollocks!" he shouted as the pain laced through him.

"Left their guns at the door!" Spike dived as bullets whistled round him. "You tit!"

He rolled away into shadows and brought his gun up, to aim at nothing, just two crippled vamps and a swinging door.

Browne held up a bloodstained right hand, then clamped it back to the wound. "Fuck, this keeps on 'appenin' to me ever since I met you, you bloody Jonah, sometimes I wonder why I......."

"Why you what?" Spike carefully removed the near empty clip and loaded a full one. "Don't bugger off 'ome, or maybe take the sensible course of lettin' me do the plans. I told you those blokes wouldn't just 'and their guns over, wear Kevlar I said, but oh no you...."

Browne got up shaking his head at the injustice of it and gave Spike a superior look. "Ok smart arse, 'ere's a plan. We leave before those buggers come back with all their mates. That a plan you can go along with?"

"Shit Homes, that's all you had to say."

" 'Omes? look Sherlock I don't know what your game is but....."

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It wasn't often that Buffy patrolled alone these days. Guys were nervous about her, guys toted orbs with them where ever they went with her, guys followed her around like faithful Labradors from dusk till dawn in case she ran off with blond vampires. The guys who were starting to irritate, majorly.

Patrolling Hammersmith could be fun with Angel, with a vampires night vision you could frisbee after dark, *Ok never do it with a cymbal, but that's pretty much a given.* And when the bushes weren't too crowded...well, there was other stuff. And with the other guys, roller bladeing till dusk then staking and the like after dark, but the vamps were still tending to stick to Weatherly, everything was coolness at Hammersmith still.

*So why am I here on my own?*

She looked around, it was quiet mid-week, no kids around, no transients either, kind of night you could spread a blanket out in the moonlight and really......"Damn girl, you should have brought Angel."

Two weeks from now, though, the place was going to be packed. Dingoes were putting on a gig at the park and nearly every teen in Sunnydale had bought a ticket, which meant the vamps would be there and Buffy would have to run security instead of partying -- again.

Oz was at practice, Willow was watching Oz practice, Xander was working, Anya was watching Xander work, Giles was with Karen, Karen was.......with Giles, Angel?

Angel was letting her know that he trusted her to go out on her own and not jump into the hay with any passing blond vampire. She appreciated the gesture. "Pity I haven't met a blond vamp all night."

Spike was banned from Sunnydale, only in the direst of emergencies was he to be allowed back into the town, and then only by written invitation with the proviso, as Angel had growled it that he, "Checks his ball's in at the door!"

She missed him, missed his outlook on life, missed his devil may care attitude, missed his sense of fun, missed all the stuff that made him different from Mr Broody. There was so much she missed and she knew Angel was unlikely to give her the chance to be alone with Spike ever again, not that she could blame him. Not after what had happened last time.

The killing still gave her nightmares, but at least she also had the memory of the sex. She didn't exactly keep warm at night, but sometimes alone in her own bed at her Mom's, sometimes it wasn't Angel she thought of before she fell asleep and Craig Flesch ran her through the jungle again.

Buffy walked off the path and over the lawns, hands in pockets, stake in belt. The vamps were starting to overcome their fear, to drift back, keeping to the shadows, avoiding the Alibi, making her hunt. Pissing her off that the easy slayage was over. Thank god for spider sense.

"I know you're out there, show yourselves." She whispered it, she had been sensing vamps in the park since she got here, unusual vamps, vamps who had obviously decided to give Weatherly a miss and go up market. Vamps who were so going to die.

"Come on guys, don't make me come in there after you, these shoes weren't made for tramping through bushes." She was hoping to catch the last hour at the Bronze with her lover, she did not need mud.

But they didn't come out. "Yellow bastards." Resigned to her fate, pouting, she walked forward.

Stake in hand she stalked into the bushes, she didn't have to go far before the first attacker sprang.

"Good, 'bout time." She said as she wheeled sharply and drove the stake into its chest. It struck something solid then the wood broke into splinters in her hand. Stunned she just stood there till a fist struck her on the cheek and sent her crashing back onto the ground.

"Now you're in trouble," she growled as she morphed, snarling she looked up and her yellow eyes widened in shock. "Hey, have we met before?"

He was tall, and muscular, his lower body was covered by black knee length boots and black pants, his upper by chain mail armour and a dented breastplate. His hair was long and black and worn loose and his face, Buffy saw the scar that closed his left eye and almost screamed. "You know I think we......" The bushes rustled and two more figures emerged, both armoured the same, both familiar in every detail. ".....Have!"

"A vampiress." The vampire Buffy had tried to stake started to unbuckle his belt. "Excellent, grab her."

Last time they had wanted her blood, and almost got it. The Slayer vampire realized this time they were looking at her for other reasons, and for a second fear gripped her, this time there was no Angel to protect her from gang rape rather than murder *Treble penetration ahead, Yeah right as if this time I'm stronger.*

Lightening fast her hands came out to grab the vampire standing either side of her by the leg furthest from her and pull them off their feet. She sprang up and aimed a sharp kick into the one-eyed vampire's groin, he doubled over with pain, straight into Buffy's upcoming knee. "Nice to see you guys again, sorry I can't hang around to talk over old times."

Stakes weren't going to work, she wasn't carrying holy water, a crossbow or a damned big sword. But she knew where there were two. Buffy ran for her Jeep.

The Three tried to get up to go after her, but they were tangled up, and hurting. Their leader was too busy crying tears of blood and nursing his bruised pride, and other stuff, to send them in pursuit anyway.

"She'll beg for mercy for that, the bitch," the one-eyed vampire wiped the blood from his face as he struggled up right. "By the devil I'll leave her naked with her legs staked spread open for every vampire in the whole town to use when I'm done!"

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Buffy frantically worked her pager in the jeep, she hoped Giles and Karen had already......been Giles and Karen, she needed research STAT.