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Summary – Two Slayers from two different
times meet unexpectedly.
--------------------------------------------
20
August 2318
1305
hours
Old
Sunnydale, California
National
Park
The four young adults stood
in front of the historical "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign, each lost in
their own thoughts. Mainly wondering what possessed someone from the United
Environmental Restoration and Preservation Agency to declare this part of
California an historical landmark.
“Nice place. Can we leave now?” The blonde female
asked, having given up on trying to figure out what was so important about the
faded green sign the group had been staring at for the past ten minutes.
"Not until we find Benjamin." Came the
reply from the tall dark-haired man standing to her left, his eyes carefully
studying the sign before him. Unlike
his companions, he understood the historical significance of the sign.
“And why exactly ARE we looking for Benjamin? I
thought he was Erin's problem?” the blonde asked, still unsure why they were
looking for a runaway vampire in the middle of California in the first place.
“Because the powers that be figured I was having a
slow week and are taking steps to remedy that.” The redhead to her right replied with a smirk. “Anton if you're finished drooling over the
road sign, can we actually go into town now?”
She questioned with an arched eyebrow.
Sometimes she really didn't understand Anton's
little obsession with learning new things.
The guy was going to give nerds a bad name if he wasn't careful. 'Nerd?
What kind of word is THAT?' She thought, knowing that Anton seemed rather proud
to be associated with such an archaic word.
“It is not just a road sign, this is a part of
Slayer Lore.” Anton replied with mock
outrage. “And I do not drool.”
“All right, you don't drool.” The redhead allowed
turning to walk back to their transport parked not far away. “But you do get
this little glazed over look in your eyes.” She called over her shoulder,
smiling when she heard his choked cry of outrage. Sometimes it was just so easy
to tease him.
Watching her two companions continue their
good-natured argument, the blonde turned to the short male left standing beside
her. “Do you ever wonder why we hang out with those two?” She questioned.
“You're in love with Andrea and Anton is the only
one of us who is on a first name bases with all the bouncers at 'Spike's
Place'.” Came the soft-spoken reply.
“Oh yeah, I know there had to be a reason.” The
blonde replied with a grin. “Come on Ingo, let's catch up to our beloved
comrades before they make us walk into town." She said with a shake of her head. Sometimes she really wondered
about her chosen profession, then she remembered that there really wasn't
anything else she rather be doing then saving the world from the forces of
darkness on a weekly bases. There was just something about fighting vampires
and demons with archaic weaponry that appealed to the rebel in her. Or maybe
she just liked blowing things up and killing large groupings of the undead was
a really convenient excuse to be causing large-scale property damage. Either
way she didn't ask too many questions she just went with it and had fun.
****************************************
2254
Hours
One
of Historical Sunnydale's numerous cemeteries
“What is it about the undead that they just have to
perform ancient rituals in cemeteries?” Jakobie Cross questioned as she tugged
on her body armour. “Whatever about an old castle? Or even a ship? Anything but
a graveyard." She grumbled securing her medical kit and sidearm with
practiced ease.
“That's right, I keep forgetting you were raised by
the Shadarra. Cemeteries are sacred, its bad luck to enter such a place with
malice.” Anton said, looking up from his equipment check to regard her with
calm dark eyes. It was hard to figure out Jake Cross, at times, her unusual
upbringing making her a truly unique individual. It also made it hard to
understand how her mind worked. She really didn't have anything against dusting
vampires in general; she just didn't want to do it on sacred ground. He made a
mental note to do a little research into Shadarrian burial rituals when he had
the time, and went back to his equipment check.
“It's rude.” She replied uncomfortably. “It
dishonours the memory of the dead.”
“That's understandable. I think it's really rude to
have a demon running lose in someone else's body too.” Ingo Ostrom commented
absently, his close cut white hair and matching beard, making him stand out in
the moonlight. “I mean come on, you get killed by a vampire only to become one
yourself. How's that for screwing up your whole after-life. None of your
friends are going to want to be around you, especially if you start going on
killing streaks and torture large groups of people. How do you justify that to
your buddies, when you wasted an entire family of New-Agers and their livestock
for kicks? It definitely makes one rethink that whole 'friends-no-matter-what'
thing.”
“This from the werewolf that actually got arrested
for slaughtering an entire herd of cattle.” Andrea Vladikova said with a grin,
the team's usual 'cemetery etiquette' helping to keep the mind numbing fear,
that always seems to accompany interrupting vampire rituals of any kind, at
bay.
“In my defense Oh proud and noble Chosen One, I was
having an allergic reaction to some experimental antibiotic and therefore
couldn't be held accountable for my actions for those thirty-six hours.”
“So your little rampage through the Werewolf Hunters
Memorial was all apart of your accidental high care of Community Medical?” She
couldn't help but ask with a wicked grin.
“Oh hell no. I did that with a clear head.” Ostrom replied
with a wicked grin of his own. “None of those butchers were any heroes of
mine.” He didn't bother to try to hide his dislike for the 'legendary werewolf
hunters', the name leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Just because he didn't
have much of a choice about turning into a werewolf during the full moon,
didn't mean he had any less of a right to live. And yet government funds had
actually been spend to immortalize those killers who had nearly wiped out his
entire race in the mid-twenty-first century, due to ancient hatreds founded on
senseless fears.
“Ah guys.” Jake said getting everyone's attention.
“Show time.” She added with a jerk of her head indicating a gathering not far
from them.
“You got the best hearing, Os my boy. What are they
saying?” Andrea asked slipping into full Slayer mode, as she pulled up her
night vision field glasses to take a closer look. Being a Slayer had its advantages, like being able to sense a
vampire nearby. It also had its disadvantages, like giving those very same
vampires the ability to sense you.
Closing light gray eyes, Ostrom focused his hearing,
filtering out all unwanted noise to zero in on the small group of vampire's
clustered around the centerpiece of the ancient cemetery. After a few moments, “They're talking about
reclaiming the hellmouth.” He reported slowly, unsure if he was hearing
correctly.
Reclaiming the hellmouth? Anton and Jake mouthed to
one another in confusion. “The hellmouth is in Florida, what are they doing
here?” Andrea voiced the question on everyone's mind, in a low whisper.
“Unless..”
“They're talking about this hellmouth.” Anton
finished his mind already working. “The one sealed three hundred years ago.”
“Okay, that would be a bad thing.” Andrea said more
to herself then to the others. “Reopening sealed hellmouths are well into the
screwed category of possible mission outcomes and are to be avoided at all
costs. Suggestions?”
“Wait, wait, they can't break the seal, the binding
wards prevent it from happening. If I remember right, this place was capped off
by using the old ways - magic that had been lost for countless centuries.
You're not going to be able to break that seal, unless you're prepared to use
an ion pulse cannon.” Anton cut in.
“Wouldn't that sort of defeat the purpose? An ion
cannon would blow a crater the size of the Grand Canyon into the entire western
seaboard.” Andrea questioned.
“Hey, I know that vamp.” Jake said looking through
her own field glasses. “Os, that one on
the far right. Isn't that Merlin?” She asked not taking her eyes off of the
vampire in question.
“Yeah, it is. I thought he was one of Spike's
'special quests'. I wonder what he's doing so far from his cage......and
without his collar too.” Ostrom replied
with an evil grin, his wolf itching to be set free to do a little hell raising
of its own on the old hellmouth. “Looks like Benji's been a bad little vampire,
taking the Master's toys without permission. What to do? What to do?”
“It would explain why Spike wants Benjamin and his
little crew brought back to the lair. Turning lose Merlin is not the way to
endear one's self to one's sire.” Anton added lowering his field glasses to
give Andrea a troubled look. Merlin, aside from looking all of ninety-seven
pounds soaking wet, was a rather unstable vampire, he was quite mad
actually. He had this overwhelming
desire to plunge earth into the demon realm for some really bizarre reason. It
was generally agreed upon by the Slayer, being Andrea, and some of the older
vampires, who liked things just the way they were think you very much, that
Merlin was to be kept as a 'quest' of one of the more powerful vampires so he
couldn't cause any mischief. The only reason Merlin hadn't been dusted, and put
out of everyone's misery, was the little fact that he did serve a purpose every
now and then, but mostly he helped to ensure that Spike never got too rusty in
the torture department.
“Damn, the little bastard is casting!” Ostrom
growled, his enhanced senses picking up the trace elements of magic coming into
play around the vampires. Something bad was about to happen, he just knew it.
Whenever vampires started messing around with magic bad things always
happened, it was an unwritten law of the Slayers.
Magic and vampires = bad things! Everybody knew that.
“Son of a…” Jake cursed in a low growl. “They're
going to reclaim the hellmouth.”
“We got that part already, Jakobie. But they don't
have an ion cannon so they can't do much damage even with Merlin's magic.” Anton
replied wondering why Jake was anger. He figured that they were going to let
Merlin and Benjamin have they little light show before sending them back to
Spike for punishment. It was really the
only thing they could do, interrupting Merlin in the middle of a spell was damn
near suicidal in anyone's books, the vampire was just too far out there in the
insanity department to be able to spit his attention once he started doing his
magic.
“No, we don't get it.” Andrea said her eyes widening
in realization. “They are going to reclaim the hellmouth, before it was
sealed.”
“The only way they can do that…” Ostrom continued,
his own eyes widening in disbelief.
“Is to go back into time!” The four of them finished
as one.
“We are so screwed.”
“We are well beyond screwed, we're into totally
fucked territory.”
“Anton, if they open a portal, how long would it
take before it closes?” Andrea asked,
her mind already formulating a plan. They just couldn't let Benjamin and his
crew get away, she had given her word to Spike that the rogue vampires would be
brought back to the master vampire. And
there was no way in hell or Sunnydale for that matter that she was going to
break her word, especially to Spike.
“Ah hum, time traveling isn't easy, you got to call
upon some heavy magic, it's going take time to dissipate properly.” Anton
replied his mind already racing along the same paths as the Slayer's. “I'd say
anywhere from two weeks to two months before it disappears completely, but with
an active hellmouth on the other side, who knows?”
“All right, listen up.” Andrea said after a moment.
“Here's the game plan, we let Benji and his crew go through first. We follow,
our objective is to capture and retrieve only.”
“They aren't going to make it easy on us.” Jake
replied, getting that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that said she
would probably be putting stitches in someone really some.
“Do they ever?” Ostrom commented not taking his eyes
off the light show Merlin was creating, absently wondering about vampire mages
and the odd need for fancy special effects when it came to doing magic. “Heads
up, the portal's just about open.”