Somewhere I Have Never Travelled; Book Two
by Kirayoshi
Face The Face
[reviews]
Chapter Five
Face the Face
You must have heard the cautionary tale
Of the dangers hidden on the cul-de-sac trail.
We are the ones who've been through it all,
The painted names sprayed upon the wall.
We gotta judge the judge,
We gotta find the finds,
We gotta scheme the schemes,
We gotta line the lines.
We gotta stake the stakes,
We gotta show the shows,
We gotta take the takes,
We gotta know the knows.
Try to race the race, so
We can face the face!
--Pete Townshend
"Face The Face"
One minute ago, Xander Harris was walking his midnight beat at Whetherly Park, keeping alert for anything out of the ordinary. He found it soon enough, as three biker chicks started to harass two young women. On closer examination, he recognized the two women as Tara and Sandra. He figured that the biker chicks were the vampires that Sandra called "Hell's Belles".
He immediately pulled out his service piece, and replaced the ammo clip with one of his 'special' clips. While the unusual clips were not officially recognized on any police budget, there were enough cops on the Sunnydale Force that knew more about what was going on in this town to make sure that certain under-the-table precautions were made, and the higher-ups generally looked the other way.
"Officer Harris, calling anyone within the vicinity," Xander spoke into his radio as he ducked behind a bush. "Reporting a situation in Whetherly Park. Three bikers attacking two women, over."
"Harris, this is Axelrod on Nightshift," the voice answered, and Xander breathed a sigh of relief. "Nightshift" was the unofficial Sunnydale PD anti-vampire squad. "Identify assailants; any signs of unlife? Over."
"Affirmative," Xander answered. "Perps match description of known night life. Requesting backup, repeat, requesting--"
"In every generation," a familiar, commanding voice cut through the night with the authority of a judge's gavel, "there is the Chosen One." Xander stopped and looked toward the voice. Buffy Summers, backed up by Willow, Giles, Angel and Denise Parkinson, stood before the three vamps, who suddenly were less cocky than they were before. "She, and those who choose to follow her, will stand against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. She is -- I am -- the Slayer!"
"Ooh, just what I wanna hear from a girl," Xander whispered gleefully.
"Harris, repeat your last statement," the voice on the radio reclaimed his attention. "Do you require assistance? Over."
"Uh, cancel request for assistance, Axelrod," Harris answered, fumbling for his radio. "The situation appears to be contained. Will report back if situation changes. Harris out." Turning off his radio, Xander turned his attention to the show in front of him.
On his face, he wore the smile of one who knew that all was right with the world. His hero was back.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
So many out-of-town demons knew about Sunnydale California. They knew mostly to avoid it. While the Hellmouth acted like a magnet for supernatural forces, drawing demons and vampires toward it like moths to a flame, the wiser demons knew to resist that temptation.
She lived here. The Slayer.
Rizzo brought her gang to Sunnydale because she had heard rumors that the Slayer had been killed. But now she knew that those rumors were false. The Slayer and some of her friends stood in front of her, ready for the kill. Rizzo knew of the Slayer's rep, and that it was well deserved. And in the coal-black depths of her heart, she knew fear.
However, she refused to be conquered by her fear. "Frenchie, take the carrot-top!" Frenchie dove toward Willow, her fingers as claws, ready to shred flesh from bone.
Buffy considered moving to defend Willow, but one glance toward her love's direction proved to her that her concern was unnecessary. Willow ducked easily, avoiding Frenchie's clumsy attack, and even managed to score Frenchie's leg as she passed with the tip of her stake. Frenchie landed gracelessly in the bushes behind her, balled up in pain, howling in agony. Wooden weapons, even if they don't pierce the heart, are the bane of vampire's existence. Especially if they had been treated with holy water.
"Okay, wannabees," Buffy snarled as she prepared for battle. "Who wants a piece of me?"
Leather tensed up as her lover writhed in pain, and would have made an attempt at Willow's life, if Rizzo hadn't stopped her. Rizzo pointed her finger at Buffy, shouting, "Let's settle this now! You, me, mano a mano. You game?"
"Hey," Buffy said in mock innocence, "I'm so game I'm copyrighted by Milton Bradley!" She stood before Rizzo, making beckoning motions with her hands. "C'mon, Pink Lady. Take your best shot!"
Rizzo nodded to Leather, who backed off to tend to Frenchie's wounds. Rizzo then sneered at Buffy and whipped out a switchblade, saying, "C'mon, let's see if you can walk the walk."
"Oh, I can walk the walk," Buffy answered as Rizzo lunged at her. "I can also fight the fight." She evaded Rizzo's initial blow, and came around with her fist on the biker's face, dislodging her left fang. Willow, the other Scoobs, the biker vamps, all looked on silently, not daring to interfere in this fight. The two fighters circled each other, switchblade to stake, taking stock in each other. Then, they met in the center of their circle
Buffy feinted and parried with her opponent, who proved to be a skilled street fighter. Rizzo took her shots quickly, striking like a cobra, giving Buffy milliseconds to react to her attacks. Buffy paced herself, calming the anger that normally boiled in her gut when she fought vampires, keeping steely control over her motions. Her hazel-blue eyes smoldered, and as she battled the vampire, she stared intently at Rizzo, in an intimidating gesture that Angel had taught her in her first year in Sunnydale; 'the eye of the wolf' he called it. Above all else, she let Rizzo move around her, let her expend energy, let her make herself madder, while she herself conserved her energy.
Rizzo drew first blood, with a swift knife strike to Buffy's cheek. Buffy ignored the sudden pain, concentrating on finding her opponent's weakness. She seemed to favor her left leg. Buffy had read that left-footed meant left handed. She tested her theory; she jabbed quickly with her stake at Rizzo's left side, then again at her right side. Rizzo blocked the first blow with her left hand easily enough. But the second strike, Buffy was able to connect briefly with Rizzo's ribcage before Rizzo brushed her aside. Buffy smiled. Her weakness.
Buffy started to work on Rizzo's right side, repeatedly jabbing and slicing with her hands, working on her weaker right arm. Rizzo tried to turn to her right, to allow her left side dominance. But Buffy kept leaping around her, working on that right side.
Leather watched the fight with angry eyes. She knew that Rizzo would be enraged if she tried to interfere; for Rizzo it was a matter of pride that she fought the Slayer herself. But Leather saw that her leader, her Sire, was on the ropes. She had to do something. She watched the crowd as they witnessed this grudge match. Her eyes scanned their faces, especially the new allies that Buffy had brought with her.
Her vision rested on one girl. The redhead who injured Frenchie. She looked at the fighters, at Buffy, with a rapt attention. There was something in her eyes, something smoldering, something passionate.
The same passion she saw in Frenchie's eyes when they made love. The redhead loved Buffy.
With blinding swiftness, Leather slipped behind Willow, and grabbed her by the throat. "Drop the stake, Blondie!" she screamed, silencing the combat. "Or we'll see if your girlfriend's blood is the same color as her hair!"
Buffy stood stock still, as she looked into her endangered love's eyes. "Don't do it, Buffy," Willow whispered hoarsely, countering her fear with her love for the Slayer.
Buffy let the stake fall from her hand. "So help me, psycho-slut," she spat at the vampire, "if you even look at her funny, I'll turn you inside out!"
"You idiot!" Rizzo screamed. "I almost had her! I could have taken her!"
"Yeah, in your dreams, Rizzo!" Leather argued. "Darla said she wanted these mooks wasted, and she wanted us alive! We're on the clock, we have no time to play with our food!"
Rizzo was about to retort, when another voice made itself known. "Police! Spread 'em! Hands where I can see them!" All heads turned to the sight of Officer Alexander LaVelle Harris, his gun aimed directly at Leather. "Move away from her, nice and slow, sister. We don't want any trouble here."
Leather laughed mirthlessly at the cop. "You really don't have any idea whom you're dealing with, do you?"
"Actually," Officer Harris said calmly, "I do. So don't try anything!"
"You mean like this?" Leather cackled as her face contorted to it's vampiric nature, and she dove for Willow's neck, intent on her jugular. Xander fired his weapon directly into Leather's shoulder.
Searing white pain ripped through her arm, forcing her to let go of Willow. The wiccan ran directly to Buffy who received her in a relieved bear hug. Rizzo and Frenchie, not to mention the others, looked shocked at the officer, who stood there with his gun in hand.
"Explosive tipped bullets," Xander explained. "Hollow, filled with holy water. Not enough to kill, but I'll bet it hurts like hell. Of course, I aim for the heart, you're dust. Feel lucky?" He drew a bead directly at Rizzo's heart.
Rizzo backed toward Leather and Frenchie, fear growing in her dark eyes. She helped her partners back onto their feet, and snarled at Buffy. "This ain't over, bitch!" The three vampires left swiftly before Buffy and Xander could follow them.
Buffy turned her head to look at the trembling redhead in her arms. "You okay, Wills?" she asked, stroking a sweat-matted strand of hair from her love's forehead.
"Man, I hate it when they do that," she murmured against Buffy's chest. "Do I have a sign on my forehead saying 'Please hold me hostage'?"
"No," Buffy smiled at her fiancee. "Just the one that says 'My heart is property of Buffy Summers'." Willow grinned impishly, as Buffy kissed her nose.
The two then turned to Xander, and Buffy said, "Hey, hero. Mighty nice shootin' there."
"Shucks, ma'am," Xander answered in the worst John Wayne accent on record, "'Tweren't nothin'."
"I must say," Giles commented, "I was surprised that the Sunnydale police department had such weaponry."
"Not officially, Giles," Xander answered. "But ever since Buffy took down Hizzoner Mayor Wilkins, the S.P.D. have been a lot less clueless than they were before. We took some old notes from the Initiative once they folded, and designed a few new additions, like the holy water bullets. Someone's working on a flash grenade that will duplicate the effects of bright sunlight for five seconds, just long enough to dust every vamp in a ten yard radius."
"Hmm, impressive."
The dark voice behind them caused the hairs on Buffy's arms to stand on end, and she could sense that she wasn't the only one to feel that way. She picked up her stake, and spun around.
The man who faced her was gaunt, his body half-shaded by the nearby trees as he strode toward them. Every aspect about him said 'tasteful', from the tailored cut of his shoes to the part of his hair. But the fire in his eyes, the gait of his stride, the scowl of his lips, they said something else to Buffy Summers. Hunter. Predator.
Vampire. Probably a master vampire. In the back of her mind, she recalled an old lyric by the Rolling Stones; "Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste..."
Xander's eyes widened with the twin shock of the stranger's arrival, and recognition. "Mr. Beltaine?"
"You remember me, Officer Harris," he said in a clipped and formal voice. Giles thought he could detect the faintest Eastern European accent. "I am glad of that. And I am especially glad to see you, Miss Summers," he added, turning his attention to Buffy.
Buffy fished the crucifix out of her pocket, and held it in front of her. Beltaine backed slowly away from the cross, and asked Xander, "Did you tell your friends that I was not their enemy?"
"I told Giles, but you still have to convince me." Xander said simply.
Beltaine nodded. "Fair enough." He then glanced at Angel, who sat silently as the elder vampire walked toward him. "But you, my old friend," he said to Angel, "You and I, we know each other very well, don't we?"
Angel blinked as Beltaine looked him over. His eyes widened with recognition as well, and he almost staggered back away from the master vampire. "You--" he said, shaking as though he were facing the Devil himself, "it was you. You placed the curse on me, bonded me to my soul."
"Indeed I did, Liam," Beltaine answered. "And I can see into your soul now. You recently defeated the demon within you, once and for all. Your soul is yours now. I bow to you, my friend." He lowered his upper body in a reverent bow.
"What's with the bowing?" Buffy whispered, still keeping her stake at the ready.
"Maybe Angel just won Ben Stein's money," Willow offered. Beltaine glanced back at Willow when he heard these words. He then regarded Willow with an almost fatherly affection on his face. "So you must be Willow Rosenberg. Ah, Janna mentioned you in her letters to me. She thought the world of you. Now I can see why."
Giles glared hard at the vampire as he spoke this name from his past. "Janna? Janna Kalderash?" he asked, steel in his voice. "You knew Jenny Calendar?"
Beltaine nodded sadly. "I did, Giles. She was my daughter-in-spirit, as dear to me as if she had sprung from my own flesh. And you were very dear to her as well. Someday, we must drink to her memory."
"Why would we drink with you, Beltaine?" Buffy asked suddenly. "You're a vampire, after all."
"I am, my child," he answered, "but like your friend Angel, my soul is bonded to me. The powers of my tribe are formidable indeed. As you probably have guessed by now, I am of the Romani gypsies, the same tribe that punished a demon named Angelus. I am in fact their leader."
"Yeah, and now he's ours as well," an all-too familiar British accented voice chimed in. Spike stepped out from the shadows, followed by Faith, and the two vampires joined their master in the dim lamplight. "Oh, and just so you know, that chip the Initiative gave me, I got it removed." He bared his fangs to punctuate his point. "So don't you get any ideas."
"Hey, B," Faith added, giving a fang-laced smile. "How's it hangin'?"