By Neva
Send Feedback To: neva.crandall@csus.edu
Please send me feedback -- I need it to keep writing.
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Willow/Angel, X-over Highlander
Thank you to my very helpful beta reader Susan S. <SSwish0311@aol.com>,
and thanks to the people who sent much needed
feedback and encouragment. As you can see, you convinced me to
contiune the series.
Distribution: Anyone can archive this story or my first two stories
if they want to. Just send me the address to your
site please.
This takes place immediately following my story "White Lies". Information
about my version of the BtVS and Highlander
universes can be found with my first story "Dreams?". The first two
stories should definitely be read before this one.
Disclaimer: None of these characters (except the bad guys) belong to
me. They belong to other people; I'm just
borrowing them for a little while (maybe a long while -- I am a slow
writer). All rights and properties of Highlander
are owned by Rysher entertainment, and all rights and properties of
Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon,
Warner Bros. and Mutant Enemy, etc. (Okay the legal stuff is out of
the way.)
Summary: Willow Rosenburg's further adventures as an Immortal. There
are new arrivals in Sunnydale -- some are friends
and some are enemies.
** Note to Readers: Thoughts are indicated with < and > markings. **
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Nick Wolfe was beginning to seriously regret that last beer. The tequila
and the vodka had probably been bad ideas too.
The ground was moving ever so slightly . . . just enough to make the
ex-cop and new Immortal extremely nauseous. Nick
grimaced as his insides rolled over threateningly. He had discovered
on his cross-country drinking spree that his
tolerance for alcohol was much higher than it had been a few months
ago, but against the odds he had managed to just
get very, very drunk.
<Okay, where the hell am I, and when did it get dark? > Nick couldn't
quite remember where the bar had been in
relationship to the hotel. Actually he was no longer sure that he could
make it back to the hotel or even the bar. He'd
cut through some graveyard on his way to the bar and had attempted
to return by the same path. Unfortunately, this
seemed to be a different cemetery. It was full of ornate crypts and
tall, lavishly decorated headstones. It would be
easy to get lost in the dark even if you weren't blind drunk -- which
Nick was.
Nick lurched to the nearest tree and took an unfocused look at his surroundings.
Nothing looked familiar. <At least
it's holy ground. It's a graveyard; it had better be holy ground. >
He grimaced at the thought. Any thought related to
his new situation and Amanda was guaranteed to make him either want
to drink or hit something. However, although he
didn't want to admit it, he wasn't as angry as he had been. That didn't
mean he was ready to stop avoiding her yet.
Amanda probably would have been seriously pissed that he had gone out
unarmed and gotten smashed. That was part of the
reason he'd done it to begin with -- childish but true. <And she
would be right to be angry. This was stupid, and I'm
going to get myself killed. > Nick shoved the traitorous thought to
the back of his mind. Agreeing with Amanda was the
last thing he wanted to do after the monumental lies she'd told him.
He
managed to hold off on drinking for a couple of
states, but he'd seen a woman who vaguely resembled the thief and had
decided to have a beer or two. Not because he
missed her, no, certainly not because he missed her. That first drink
had been sometime this morning. Since taking off
from Paris, he had been more or less wandering aimlessly. He knew Amanda
was trying to find him, but given that his
main goal had been to avoid her; she hadn't seen a trace of him.
Everything had been going, relatively, fine until Chicago. He still
had money, and Amanda was still looking for him on
the eastern seaboard. It was in the windy city that the former cop
had been forcibly reminded that her help wasn't the
only thing to be avoided. Nick had been heading to a bar to get drunk
and drown out the sound of her mischievous voice
in his memory ... again. He had turned the corner to face a stranger
with a sword, a stranger who immediately
challenged him to a fight to the death. Fortunately, although he had
lacked the requisite sword, he'd still been
carrying a gun. He'd shot his 'opponent' through the knee to escape.
But that hadn't stopped the man. Two more times
he'd surprised Nick, stalking him around the city. The new Immortal
had survived through creative use of a garbage can
lid until he'd gotten the other man's sword. It had been a short, dirty
fight; Nick had kept the sword. He'd seen
Quickenings before, but that had in no way prepared him for the actual
experience of one. Overwhelmed and shaken, Nick
had fled Chicago. <Amanda would have made sure I was prepared. >
Nick shoved that thought down too. He also refused to
think about the fact that she would have helped him through that first
Quickening too.
He'd started in Paris. Now he was being held up by a tree in a dark
graveyard in Sunnydale California, a town he hadn't
heard of until yesterday. The summer air was stifling and the clouding
effects of the huge quantity of alcohol were
sadly fading away as his body rapidly processed it. Walking a touch
unsteadily, Nick headed through the graveyard --
trying without much success to not run into trees and headstones. <Eventually
I'll find a road, a phone, and a taxi.
Don't need training to do that. > Nick dismissed further stray thoughts
of calling Amanda and not being angry with her
and kept walking.
Looking around, Nick noticed that the graveyard was -- crowded. This
wasn't a big town, and this wasn't the only large
graveyard he'd walked through today. Nick counted several fairly new
graves. The cop in him pointed out that this was a
little odd, not to mention creepy. Suddenly, Nick noticed something
else. He was being followed. Abruptly sober, Nick
slowly turned; there was nothing behind him. <Okay, no buzz, so
it's not another Immortal. Garden variety punk? > Nick
turned back to keep moved and nearly jumped out of his skin. There
was a short and extraordinarily ugly man wearing a
suit and a lot of dirt standing in front of him. Growling. <Pointed
teeth, smelly, yellow eyes. Definitely NOT a
garden-variety punk. I'd say this is bad. > Acting on old instincts,
Nick punched the guy hard. It was a good hit and
should have knocked the smaller man over. Instead the creature grabbed
his shoulders and began pulling him forward with
surprising and unnatural strength. Nick's stomach dropped and spun
when the pointed teeth sank into his neck. He kicked
the strange attacker between the legs, forcing the vampire to release
his prey with a angry yell; the Immortal took the
wise route of turning and running, one hand pressed against his bleeding
throat.
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Willow tilted her head so it rested against Angel's side as they lazily
strolled towards home. About half way through
the cemetery the events of the evening had caught up with her. The
adrenaline that had allowed her to fight the demon
at Cassandra's and Buffy's sides was nearly gone. Cuddling was still
of definite interest though. The slender witch had
slowed to a near crawl after a couple of blocks, allowing Buffy and
others to catch up even after having to clean up
after the demon. Anya had looked disappointed. Anya's gleeful predictions
and suggestions aside it looked like everyone
was going to go straight home.
Willow was barely standing on her own two feet, leaning on Angel as
she slowly moved forward. Giles and Cassandra
grinned and exchanged an amused look as they saw how Willow had slowed
down. Only moments before she'd still had been
bouncing and nearly racing Angel home. Cassandra wasn't at all surprised.
The older Immortal was glad that the rather
adorable young couple had resolved their problems. <But I did warn
her she'd be tired. Children . . . they never
listen, > Cassandra thought affectionately.
Angel looked at the sleepy redhead leaning into his side. Steamy looks
or not, it looked like all that was going to
happen tonight was sleep. < That and a cold, cold shower, > he grinned.
The vampire was okay with it though; there was
still no rush and the tension that had hovered between them on the
walk earlier was gone. He supposed he could have
been annoyed. If he hadn't been top over tail in love with the little
witch he probably would have been. The vampire
noticed Willow's drooping, glazed eyes. "Do you need me to carry you
home, kitten?" he asked teasingly.
"Nope." She yawned until her jaw popped. "Maybe."
Angel leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, hugging her closer
to his side. He tilted her chin up as they walked,
pulling her to a stop as he leaned down. The rest of the group rolled
their eyes and snickered collectively, moving to
go around the couple. Unfortunately, the romantic (if rather sleepy)
mood was destroyed when someone off to the side
screamed. Within less than a second, the group was running towards
the sound, fresh adrenaline surging through their
bodies. They spread out in teams of two, looking to find the source
of the frantic cry for help.
Willow raced through the headstones, fatigue forgotten, scanning constantly.
Angel wove in and out of the tombstones
just ahead of her, checking behind bushes and stone. Another yell,
more terrified and desperate, the sounds of struggle
somewhere to the back of them, and Willow and Angel sprinted back towards
the sounds. Willow, pulling ahead, nearly
collided with Buffy as the Slayer vaulted over a low tombstone, swung
around an elaborate moss-covered marble vault and
slid to a halt.
The slim blonde easily pulled the vampire off his now unconscious victim
and threw the fledgling into the wall. Two
breaths later -- he was dust. Buffy began to relax, turning her attention
to the tall man lying crumpled on the ground.
Willow moved to help her, then both young women stiffened as the witch
saw movement in the shadows and Buffy's senses
went into alert. It was another hungry, and none too intelligent, fledgling.
Buffy had already been knocked down once that night. As Slayer she had
pretty fast recover time, but not that fast. The
first vamp had been easy since it had been busy feeding. Buffy was
knocked over into an awkward sprawl by a vicious
kick to the side. Reacting without thought, Willow stepped in between
her vulnerable friend and the last vamp's meal
and drew her sword. The vamp growled and lunged for her, thinking to
knock her out for easier feeding. He looked at her
with almost comical confusion as she beheaded him. Willow grinned weakly
at Angel, who had been sneaking up behind with
a stake in hand. Completely out of engergy, the young Immortal plopped
onto the ground, narrowly missing Buffy as the
Slayer tried to get back to her feet. Giles moved to support his Slayer
when she wobbled.
"Are you alright?" Giles asked in a concerned tone.
"When my head stops spinning I'll let you know," she smiled, then grimaced
as the movement affected a particularly
sensitive muscle. "Wills, you okay?"
"Fine. Tired. Sleep now," the redhead mumbled from her spot on the ground.
Angel helped her get to her feet, and she
leaned against him, struggling to keep her eyes open. Her sword was
still in her hand.
Cassandra noted this approvingly as she moved to examine the victim
they'd tried to aid. Abruptly, the Immortal
realized that the low level buzz in her ears was actually in her head,
and it was coming from the man lying on the
ground. She examined his wounds, " Anya, help me turn him over." Quickly
she scanned him for injures other than his
neck and checked his pulse. "Damn!" <I don't see a sword. Did he
drop it? I'd better give him space. Something tells me
he won't be too happy when he comes back. I'm too tired to fight him
without actually hurting him. > Cassandra
straightened and backed up a few paces, while Anya looked at her curiously.
"He's dead?" Willow tilted her head, sorting out the slight buzzing
sensation from the dozen other aches and pains and
the persistent ringing in her ears. Finally, her tired mind made the
connection. "Oh! He's going to be upset when he
wakes up. I bet he's never seen a vamp before." She grinned at Cass
weakly.
"Probably, yes. I seriously doubt he's seen one. He's taking awhile
to heal. It could be blood lose, but it's more
likely that he's young." Cass and the others stood quietly as they
waited, scanning the area in case there was more
trouble. Anya followed Cass's example and backed up. Minutes crawled
by as they waited.
"Um, guys?" Anya pointed, and they turned their attention back to the victim. "I think it's happening."
Delicate blue light was dancing over the man's bloody throat, erasing
the damage as if it had never occurred. They all
stared wordlessly as the man jerked and took a deep breath. His eyes
shot open, and he scrambled to his feet, stumbling
back in a clear panic.
Nick hated dying, and there was no doubt in his mind that he'd just
done it again. Just like Quickenings it was an
experience that couldn't quite be explained or prepared for. A fast,
frantic survey showed that his killer was gone,
but the former cop was surrounded by strangers . . . heavily armed
strangers. There were way too many edged weapons in
the little space between vaults for former cop's peace of mind. He
definitely wanted some space between him and them,
even if the strangers did seem to be his saviors. And at least two
of them were giving off the Immortal buzzes, one of
which was the strongest he'd ever felt, stronger the even Amanda, who
he knew was at least a thousand years old. Nick
kept his eyes moving -- briefly he made eye contact with the taller
dark-haired woman -- the teeth-grinding sensation
of a nearby Immortal dropped to something bearable.
The two women simply held their ground, not moving as he backed away.
Willow watched the man's eyes watch them
nervously as she slowly handed her sword to Angel. Even from several
feet away she could smell alcohol <What did you
do, swim in it? >, but he certainly seem sober now -- pale eyes alert
as they followed the progress of her sword. After
looking at Cass, he kept his eyes focused on Willow, although she was
sure that he knew that Cass was still there, and
her sword, while not visible, had to be somewhere. Tense shoulders
and the fighting stance he had automatically taken
made this clear. <He must be feeling my buzz now that he's looked
at Cassandra's eyes. She can bowl over a person when
you first realize she's there, > Willow mused in her head as she studied
the tense man standing across from her. The
clearing stayed silent as Giles and Anya backed up pulling a reluctant
Buffy along with them. Willow carefully kept her
face calm and slightly friendly while she continued to think.
<Okay, two possible reasons that he went wacky when he woke up. Could
be cause of the whole vamp -- teeth in neck
thing, or could be the two armed Immortals standing way to close thing.
He definitely picked up on both of us. I'm
saying 'thing' too much. Tired, really, really tired. Back on track,
Willow. The swords bother him; he stopped looking
like he would bolt when I let go of my sword. Why is no one talking?
I too tired for a staring contest. And I'm missing
my Angel smoochies! Okay so I probably would pass out mid-smooch but
want the option. > The man lacked the long coat
that Cass wore to hide a sword, and he didn't have any kind of bag,
so the tired young witch was pretty sure he was
unarmed. <Okay, staring contest over. Wanna go home. > Willow stepped
away from Angel's supporting arm and swaying
slightly as she moved a closer to their rescue victim.
"Are you okay now? We staked the vamp that killed you." Willow yawned
uncontrollably, "Sorry, I really tired. That was
a vampire by the way . . . you do know you're Immortal, don't you .
. . yeah you looked at the sword first so you know
... Um, holy ground or not, there are probably more vampires out there
so we should go inside. We live on holy ground
so you'll be pretty safe . . . do you have a sword? . . . " Willow
swayed and yawned again.
Nick had noticed by this point that everyone around him looked exhausted
and the tiny blonde girl and the tall, pale
man both sported several minor injures and torn clothes. The two Immortal
women both had torn clothing, and the redhead
looked like she was actually going to fall over. He took advantage
of the young woman's jaw-popping yawn to break into
the steady streams of friendly babble. "Yeah, I'm fine. I am new at
this. You don't want to fight do you?" Nick
couldn't help but sound a little hopeful. The warmth and obvious youth
of the slender redhead, paired with the
convulsive yawning, had reassured the former cop. He had also noticed
that the others, including the other Immortal
woman, were scanning the area and not watching him. His voice pulled
their attention back.
The graceful, dark-haired Immortal answered him instead of the redhead.
"No, we don't want to fight. I don't hunt
heads, and I am teaching my student to not do so either." She stepped
forward smoothly, extending one hand. "My name in
Cassandra." Nick shook her hand, and resisted the urge to either back
up or flirt with the beautiful woman. Cassandra
waved her hand over at the redhead, "this is my student Willow. We
have been assisting Willow's friends in destroying a
demon. We are all quite tired, and if you would be willing to trust
us, it would be best to move this discussion
indoors. I promise neither of us will attack you." Nick stood and considered
this for a moment; then a soft snore
emerged from Willow, collapsed back against Angel's side.
Involuntarily, Nick laughed along with the others and followed as Cassandra
began to walk out of the clearing. The
trust that was evident between the members of this oddly assorted group
was reassuring, just as Willow's friendly,
concerned babble had been.
Angel gently lifted Willow into his arms and tucked her head against
his shoulder, kissing her forehead softly. Buffy,
Giles, and Anya picked up the weapons and bags that had been dropped
and followed Angel and Cass.