The Seventh Slayer

By Kantayra

Chapter Seven

Ajaya groaned as every muscle in her body protested to the stretches Monica had given her to do. Her sparring session yesterday had zapped every ounce of strength from her, but it had kind of been fun. The redheaded vampire she’d been paired with – Julia – had been pretty damn close to her equal. She had worried about that for a bit until Monica reassured her that Julia was tougher than 90% of the vamps she would meet in the field.

However, it had left her pretty drained, and today there was yet more training.

Ajaya really didn’t mind all that much, though. All her life she’d been good with her brain and bad with her body. And now suddenly that had all changed. She’d never really experienced the thrill and excitement of intense physical activity before, and she was surprised to discover that she was really enjoying it. No matter what else, this experience had taught her that.

“’Mornin’, Buffy,” Ajaya yawned when she entered the training room and discovered the vampiress there.

“’Morning,” Buffy said cheerfully enough. “So,” she nudged Ajaya lightly in the ribs, “I heard you kicked ass yesterday.”

Ajaya’s face reddened slightly. “Er…not really,” she said shyly, “I just…”

“Went 4 and 5 with Julia!” Buffy said enthusiastically. “You know what that means?”

“What?” Ajaya asked anxiously.

“Well, first,” Buffy gave her a smile and a wink, “it means you get to take a bit of a break today since you worked so hard yesterday…”

Ajaya smiled as well at this one.

“…And,” the vampiress went on, “it means that you’re officially qualified for field work.”

Ajaya turned to look at her in surprise. “So soon?” she said with disbelief and not a little bit of panic. “But I thought it took…” She trailed off in concern.

“Usually it does,” Buffy agreed, “but you’ve shown extraordinary skill so far. Julia’s a level 4 fighter, yet you matched her blow for blow.”

Ajaya frowned slightly. “I’m not sure…”

“Don’t worry,” Buffy gave her a slight smile. “You’ll be grossly over-supervised nonstop for your first few months…if your squad gets called into action, which is unlikely given that they’ve just lost a member.”

“Really?” Ajaya sighed with relief.

“Sure,” Buffy shrugged. “Now let’s go have some fun…”

‘Fun’ consisted of watching other members of Ajaya’s team fight, although Ajaya really couldn’t deny that it was kind of fun to watch. Just seeing everybody with their powers in action was exciting enough for her.

“This one’ll be good,” Buffy nudged her when Monica and that large midnight blue demon she’d seen a few days back stepped into the ring.

Much to Ajaya’s surprise, the demon gave Monica a deep and courteous bow before their bout began. She bowed back politely, but there was no courtesy whatsoever once the match began. The demon was twice the were-jaguar’s size and had taken to shooting fireballs out of his mouth, but nevertheless the sleek young woman evaded his every attack, twisting to the side just in time with feline grace.

“How does she do that?” Ajaya watched the young woman flip and leap her way around her attacker, striking with razor-sharp claws wherever she had the chance.

“She’s a damn good fighter is how,” Buffy said, obviously impressed herself with her grandniece’s skill, “and she’s got incredible control over her powers.”

They watched as the hits and blows tallied up on the score board, neither opponent outdistancing the other for long.

“Care to place any bets?” Buffy asked once it was tied up 9-9.

“No clue who’s going to win,” Ajaya shook her head.

“I’m saying Monica,” Buffy decided, “but he’s damn good for a new recruit…”

Her prediction proved correct when Monica slipped through a wall of flames to land her claws right in the center of his chest-plate.

They separated to a round of applause and bowed once again before leaving the ring.

“Tough bout,” Monica walked over to them, pouring her water bottle over her face as she did so.

“But very well fought,” Buffy said.

“Yeah, great job,” Ajaya added.

Monica gave them a small, embarrassed smile. “We’ve trained together a lot,” she shrugged.

“Who’s ne—” Ajaya got out before:

“ALL PERSONNEL. REPORT TO THE WAR ROOM IMMEDIATELY,” a computerized voice suddenly announced over the loudspeakers.

“Oh, crap!” Monica swore under her breath.

“What does that mean?” Ajaya asked.

“Don’t know,” Buffy shook her head. “Something big. We better go.”

“Go?” Ajaya said nervously.

“It’ll just be a big meeting with a bunch of people that look kinda funny,” Buffy assured her. “You don’t have to do anything. Well…except try not to fall asleep.”

“And with Fletcher, that’s always a challenge,” Monica laughed.

* * *

Isabelle’s eyes fluttered open when the sunlight filtered through the dark curtains and landed on her face. She sighed contentedly, stretching out on the soft mattress, and finally opened her eyes.

It took her a second to remember what had happened the night before. As soon as it did, that strange, unpleasant twisting sensation returned to her stomach. Her Watcher, teacher, mentor, surrogate father of six years had tried to kill her last night.

Tears threatened to escape her eyes for the first time since she’d run away, but she fought them back. She had to be strong now, had to keep it together… And the first step there was getting cleaned up.

She quickly discovered a pile of new clothes on the dresser all in her size, including – how had he put it? Ah, yes… – knickers. She discarded the clothes he had leant her the night before and grabbed the pale blue robe he had left her before venturing into the bathroom.

One look at her reflection told her she needed a shower even more than she felt like she did. Her hair was mussed and dried oddly from the rain the night before, and it hung in loose strings around her face.

She promptly hopped in the shower and turned the hot water on full blast. It was only after she’d completely cleaned herself that she finally let the events of the previous night wash over her, and she cried and cried and cried…

By the time she got out – at least half an hour later, she was sure – she was feeling significantly better. She dressed quickly and made her way into the central room of the suite. The curtains were all drawn – duh, vampire! Her mind provided – and they cast deep, mahogany shadows throughout the room.

However, the effect was most incredible upon the man sleeping on the couch. His skin was pale enough that the light gave him an unusual copper tinge. Shadows lingered in the deep recesses beneath his cheekbones…and along the curved musculature of his bared chest.

Isabelle couldn’t suppress a slight gasp of feminine delight at the sight of him. He was undeniably magnificent. And such a gentleman last night, too, she added mentally. She walked slowly over to him, deciding that she definitely wouldn’t mind going a round with this one. What was that old rumor about vampires with big fangs? Because she’d seen his fangs, and they were pretty impressive…

“Hey,” she tapped him lightly on the shoulder, feeling his cool, smooth skin.

He let out a small cry and instantly leapt up, a small taser miraculously appearing in his hand and aimed right at her.

“Sorry!” Isabelle gulped quickly, holding her hands up in surrender.

Spike let out a sigh of relief and dropped the taser. “Jeez, Lioness,” he chuckled slightly, running one hand through his mussed hair, “didn’t anyone ever tell you to let sleeping vampires lie?”

“Sorry,” she repeated, sighing in relief herself.

“Well, then,” he cast an appraising eye over her, “how are you holding up this morning?”

“OK, I guess,” she smiled weakly.

“That OK as in ‘not very well’?” he inquired with a slight smile.

“Pretty much,” she sighed, plopping herself down in the armchair across from him. “I still just can’t believe he would… I mean, how dare he!” She slammed her fist into the coffee table, and it split in two. “Oops!” she said nervously.

He was laughing silently again. “Don’t worry about it, kitten. We’re used to paying for Slayer-related acts of destruction.”

“You sure?” Isabelle looked at the splintered table beneath her anxiously. “I really am sorry…”

He shrugged. “None of the pointy wood is in me, so no harm done,” he teased lightly.

“Not yet,” she joked right back.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she suddenly got the impression that something was off about him. It took her a second or two to place it.

“That scar,” she pointed. “When did you get that scar?”

“About a hundred and fifty years ago,” he shrugged, pulling his shirt over his head.

“But you didn’t have it earlier,” she insisted.

He dug into one of his pockets and handed her an item from it. “First rule of undercover work, Lioness. Conceal all your distinguishing features.”

She turned the eyebrow pencil over in her hand before returning it to him. “My Watcher asked about it, you know. Whether you had a scar,” she clarified.

“And you told him no because you didn’t see a scar,” Spike replied, stretching and getting up, “so now he has no idea who I am.”

“That’s a good thing,” Isabelle agreed, wrapping her arms around herself tightly and shivering despite the morning warmth.

“Look, kitten,” his brow furrowed slightly, “would you freak if I told you we should probably leave this town before the Watchers find out where you are?”

“No,” Isabelle shook her head. “I would say it’s a good idea.”

“Good,” Spike nodded, smiling wryly again now, “because we should probably leave this town before the Watchers find out where you are…”

* * *

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Fletcher Price began, his voice stern, “we have a situation. As many of you know, this morning one of our transports was moving several of the Velik Demons we liberated last month. We received word just ten minutes ago that the transport has been attacked.”

Murmurs of concern spread throughout the odd assemblage, and the expressions on Buffy and Monica’s faces hardened. Ajaya didn’t know exactly what this was about, but it seemed to be pretty serious.

“The good news is,” Fletcher’s voice was commanding for once, and Ajaya could see why everyone followed him, teasing aside, “that there were no casualties in the initial attack. All our people managed to hole themselves up in an abandoned warehouse outside Boston and transmitted their distress call.

“The problem is that we abruptly lost contact soon after we received the call. We have reason to believe that they are still in danger, and that whoever is attacking them is blocking all communications.”

“We tried to call them home with a spell,” Willow added, her expression grave, “but a magical force prevented us.”

“It’s the Watchers then,” Nicolas commented from his position leaning against the wall.

“We don’t know that,” Fletcher quickly clarified. “As far as we know, it could be a group of renegade T’Liff that escaped our recent raids.”

“And we all know how frequently the T’Liff use magic,” Alex rolled his eyes sarcastically.

Fletcher shot him a look, and he immediately was quiet again. “We can’t jump to any conclusions,” Fletcher continued calmly, “but we’re sending an entire squad out just in case.”

“Let Beta Squad take it,” Alex stepped forward immediately.

Fletcher removed his glasses and rubbed the pressure points on the sides of his nose at this. “Alex,” he began calmly, “you’re still recovering from the loss of a teammate, as well as being understaffed—”

“We’re the least injured squad available,” Alex insisted.

“They are my people,” the large, midnight blue demon supported his team leader. “I would like to help them.”

“Look, Alex…” Fletcher sighed.

“We’ve got a new trainee who’s only been with us for a few days,” Monica stepped in, indicating Ajaya. “You can’t just throw her to the Watchers’ Council on her first official mission.”

“We’ll get a replacement for her,” Alex insisted. “There are several from Zeta Squad, who—”

“We need Zeta Squad on stand-by in case we get a call from Damien about the vamp problem in Columbus,” Fletcher pointed out.

“Why not let the Boston vamps handle it?” a woman Ajaya didn’t recognize commented.

“Too long until daylight,” Fletcher replied. “For all we know, the situation could be urgent.”

With that the discussion began in full earnest.

“Is this normal?” Ajaya whispered to Buffy, who seemed to have less at stake in the argument than Monica.

“No,” Buffy shook her head. “It’s just a very sensitive issue at the moment. You’ve seen how dangerous the Watchers can be.”

Ajaya watched as Alex got in a rather loud argument with the head of Delta Squad about which one of them was better equipped to handle the situation.

“Would it help if I was willing to go?” she nervously asked Buffy.

“You’re not willing to go,” Buffy gave her a grateful smile. “It’s OK. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, really,” Ajaya insisted, “I am.”

“Ajaya,” Buffy’s whisper was a hiss, “do you know what you’re saying? You saw the Watchers. They’re serious trouble.”

“Yeah, and I’d like to see them being to ones running away this time,” Ajaya retorted, surprised by her own statements. There was something odd inside her at the moment, something that wanted to get out and fight…

Buffy looked into her eyes for a second and then nodded. “Monica!” she whispered to the were-jaguar. “Ajaya’s willing to go.”

Monica gave them both a skeptical look but got two enthusiastic nods in response. She shrugged. “We don’t need to borrow from Zeta,” she announced. “Ajaya’s game.”

Surprisingly, the only person who protested was Alex. “Absolutely not!” he exclaimed. “I am not going out with some half-trained Slayer who’s going to get herself killed!”

“She’s not going to get killed,” Monica retorted. “She’s passed clearance. She’s good to go any day now; might as well make it sooner as later.”

“She’s got a point, Alex,” Fletcher said thoughtfully.

“No,” Alex insisted, “there’s no one free to supervise her. Rules are rules.”

“I’ll do it,” Buffy promptly volunteered, speaking for the first time during the meeting.

That got a round of silence for a short while, then:

“You’re on assignment,” Alex protested.

“And here,” Buffy gestured to Ajaya, “look at my assignment.”

“It would make us more than able to handle the Watchers…” Alex said thoughtfully.

“Great,” Fletcher sighed in relief, “it’s all settled then…”

* * *

“So what does SCBI stand for anyway?” Isabelle asked, practicing her English on him now that she was stuck in the English-speaking world.

“SCB Investigations,” Spike muttered under his breath.

“What does SCB stand for then?” she persisted, turning from the trees that were whizzing by on the side of the road to look at him.

He let out a deep sigh. “Doesn’t stand for anything,” he cringed slightly. “’S the consonants in the word Scooby.”

“Scooby?” Isabelle raised an eyebrow.

“As in Scooby Doo, Scooby Gang, Scoobies…” he trailed off.

“Wasn’t that some weird old movie with a talking dog?” Isabelle asked in disbelief.

“That’s the one,” Spike sighed again. “The name has this history,” he informed her, “but the Watcher didn’t think it sounded dignified enough, so we use the acronym. ‘Bout the only thing ‘ve ever agreed with ‘im on, too.” He screeched to a halt in front of a massive iron gate.

Isabelle watched curiously as security sensors rose from the ground on either side of their vehicle.

“SCAN COMPLETE,” a computerized voice announced. “WILLIAM THAT-BASTARD-WHO-WON’T-TELL-ME-HIS-LAST-NAME APPROVED. IDENTIFY ADDITIONAL PASSENGER.”

“Did it just swear at you?” Isabelle asked, not quite sure she’d understood correctly.

“Yeah,” Spike muttered under his breath, “remind me to kill Red later… Tell it your name, ducks,” he informed her.

“Isabelle Navarro,” she said firmly and clearly.

“Slayer and new recruit,” Spike added.

“ACCESS GRANTED.”

The gates swung open just as a small aircraft zoomed by overhead.

“What was that?” Isabelle demanded, craning her neck to look around.

“Not sure,” Spike’s brow furrowed, “but it looks like somethin’ important happened…”

* * *

Ajaya sat strapped into the aircraft with her team, travelling at supersonic speed. And it suddenly occurred to her that she had absolutely no idea what to expect…

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