Title: You Forgot To Mention Hell, Horatio
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Status: Complete
Warnings: Nope. Not this time.
Category: Crossover with Highlander
Disclaimer: All other characters belong to their respective owners and are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.
This is what happens when you get involved with too many different fandoms.
Universe setting: For you Highlander fans, this story takes place sometime after ‘Archangel’ (sorry to all those Richie Forever people). Please forgive me for playing with the timelines of the shows, but hey, it’s fan-fic and I can do that ;-)
Thanks: As always, to Carrie, and to Marius, the oak and the ash to my birds in the forest.

“More...” Angel begged, refusing to meet the demands of his beautiful captor.

But Eleni was no fool. Compromising, the beautiful vampiress dipped the cup into the basin once again. However, instead of bringing it to Angel’s mouth, she held the glass a few inches above his face. Tipping it to one side, Eleni allowed a few drop of the precious liquid to drip into his eager mouth.

“Tell me,” she insisted with a sadistic smile. The smile faded slowly when it appeared that Angel was more interested in the cup over his head than her question. Angered by his inattention, she jerked the cup away forcefully. “Tell me!”

“No!” he cried pitifully. “Please...need more...more... and...I’ll tell you...”

“No,” she refused firmly. Slamming the cup down onto the dresser, Eleni stood in preparation to leave.

“No! No, wait!” Angel rasped desperately, but Eleni did not so much as hesitate as she moved toward the door. “I...my soul...to lose it... I have to be...,” he paused, closing his eyes in the shame of admitting his defeat.

Coming to an abrupt halt, Eleni pivoted sharply to await Angel’s revelation.

“I have to be...sired again.”

“I do not understand,” Eleni responded, puzzlement marring her beautiful features.

“Give me...more blood...and...I’ll explain,” he began.

“Go on,” Eleni prompted, retracing her steps to fetch the cup. Once she had it in hand, she resumed feeding him for encouragement.

“When we sire a childe,” Angel began, pausing to swallow greedily before continuing, “the person...we bring across loses their soul...to the demon. It takes over...”

“Si,” she agreed. “But you already have a demon.”

“Yes,” Angel admitted freely, his words coming easier now that his throat was no longer parched. “But if I drink from another one of us...my soul goes through the same thing that it did the first time. The blood forces it out...and the demon gets back control.”

“And this,” Eleni asked suspiciously, “is what happened to you before?”

“Yes,” he nodded weakly, his face a mask of shame over revealing the information he had endured so much to keep concealed. Eleni stared at him carefully, continuing to feed him from the glass in her hand. Finally she appeared to have reached a decision.

“I shall be your sire this time,” Eleni insisted. Heading for the door, she turned back to Angel. “You understand that I must keep you chained until tomorrow, si? But do not worry, I will make it up to you.” Leaning down, Eleni captured Angel’s mouth with her own, her tongue wrestling his for dominance. As was expected, he allowed the vampiress to win.

Sweeping regally away from her captive, she exited the room. With her back to bed, she never saw the calculating smirk on Angel’s face as he watched her depart.

Pausing to close the door behind her, Eleni tuned to the two minions that stood guarding the door.

“You,” she nodded to one, “see that he is fed -- but not too much. Keep him weak until tomorrow night.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the vampire replied, scurrying away to do her bidding.

“Tonio,” Eleni spoke in Spanish to her longtime second-in-command. “Go and spread the word. I want every vampire in Sunnydale to know by dawn.”

“Mistress?”

“Will we perform the ritual tomorrow at midnight. By the time the sun rises the next morning, there will not be a single living creature in this world that will not bow before us.”

By mutual consent they decided to wait until an hour before dawn to implement their plan. Although the basic idea was Xander’s, all of the others, Adam included, put in their two cents as well. In the end, even the Immortal was satisfied with the results.

Once again, they took two vehicles, rendezvousing in the seedier side of town a few blocks from their ultimate destination. Much to Adam’s annoyance, the plan called for Xander to ride with him – inane banter and all. The Immortal uttered an ancient prayer of relief when the van’s taillights flashed twice – the sign that they were about to part ways. At least he wouldn’t have to listen to the life story of Xander Harris for much longer.

“...so then we formed the ‘we hate Cordelia’ club…uh, the alley is up here on the right, but you might want to give them a minute to get set up…” the teen blathered.

“I was planning to,” Adam mumbled, passing off the alley for another drive around the block. Knowing that it was only a few minutes to show time, the Immortal decided to review the scheduled course of events one last time.

“When we get there, you’re to do nothing but wait, understand?”

“We’ve been over this before…”

“Then it won’t hurt to go over it one more time,” Adam insisted. “*Don’t* get out of the car. *Don’t* go inside. *Don’t* do anything that will attract any attention to you. If you find any trouble…or if trouble finds you, drive around the block a few times, but make sure you come back here. I don’t fancy the idea of having to walk all the way back to the school.” With his eyes on the road, Adam missed Xander rolling his eyes at long list of orders.

“So tell me again what your last slave died of?” Xander finally grumbled.

“If memory serves, I beat him to death for not following my instructions,” Adam said harshly.

“Ah, that was like…a joke, right?” Xander asked in a cautious voice. Given that the man sitting next to him had been around for centuries, Xander had no way of knowing whether or not the Immortal was speaking literally.

“Just stick to the plan and you won’t have to find out,” Adam insisted, pulling into the alley and parking. Taking a deep breath to focus, the Immortal opened the door and stepped out into the still air of the California night. “See you in about forty-five minutes, kid.”

As soon as the door slammed shut, Xander jumped over the emergency brake. Settling into the driver’s seat, he wondered just how the Immortal planned to accomplish his goal in such a short period of time. Then again, he thought with a shudder, he probably didn’t want to know.

‘Just like stirring an anthill,’ Giles thought as he watched almost two dozen vampires come pouring out the front door of the establishment.

With great patience, the Watcher waited for the stronger, more sober ones to head rapidly toward safety from the coming dawn. As they fled down the street, Giles took his pick from the three vampires that were obviously intoxicated. Aiming the tranquilizer gun, he fired at the one moving at the slowest pace, as to not alert the other retreating figures.

Before the female vampire even hit the ground, Willow and Oz were jumping out of the van’s open door to retrieve her. Running up from his hidden position, Giles assisted the former couple with dragging the prone body of the vampire into the vehicle. Once the door slid shut, Cordelia floored it. In a squeal of tires, they headed back to the library, their part of the evening’s mission accomplished.

The scent of old alcohol and stale cigarette smoke were a familiar comfort to the Immortal as he opened the unlocked back door. Making his way through the back corridor, Adam followed the drifting sound of music into the main room of the establishment.

Not surprisingly, the only movement in the place came from the rather sleazy-looking bartender. He was scurrying around like a rodent, picking up the glasses left behind by the rapid departure of the bar’s earlier patrons.

“Oh, hey there,” the bartender called once he spied his new and -- at the moment – only customer. “I’ll be right with you.”

“Take your time,” Adam assured, taking the opportunity to look around the place. With no windows and only one heavy solid door, the bar was a dark, dismal cavern of a place. A visual survey of the room turned up no other occupants -- living or otherwise -- so Adam turned his attention to more important matters.

‘Oh, by all that’s Holy, he’s got Guinness on tap,’ Adam noted wondrously. ‘I may have to let him live after all.’

“So what can I get ya?” the bartender asked in a friendly manner.

“Guinness draft,” the Immortal replied, seating himself at one of the high barstools.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before,” the bartender commented as he reached for a clean glass.

“I’m just passing through for a few days,” Adam responded flatly.

“Well then, welcome to Sunnydale. The name’s Willy, by the way,” he offered, setting a foamy glass in front of his only customer. “That’s $4.75.”

Reaching into a deeply recessed pocket in his trench coat, Adam withdrew a thick roll of money. Carefully noting Willy’s rapt attention, the Immortal sifted through several fifty- and hundred- dollar bills before he came across the denomination for which his was searching. Setting a twenty down on the bar, he casually told the bartender to keep the change.

“Thanks!” Willy exclaimed happily. “If there’s anything you need while you’re in town, I’m the person to see.”

“Well,” Adam smiled as he took a sip of his beer, “now that you mention it, I was hoping to look up an old friend while I was here. I’d be more than happy to…negotiate for the information.”

Looking greedily at the bankroll still visible in Adam’s hand, Willy spoke eagerly. “I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement. So does this friend of yours have a name?”

“Actually, he does,” Adam stalled, stealthily preparing himself for the inevitable. “His name is Angelus.”

Willy’s eyes widened in panic, the only sign Adam needed to know that he was in the right place. The bartender was already verbally back peddling.

“Angel…us? Sorry, never heard of him. ‘Fraid I can’t help you.” Even as he spoke, Willy was physically inching away from the bar.

“Oh now, I thought we were going to come to some kind of arrangement,” Adam said disappointedly, toying with the roll of bills in his hand.

“N…no, I…ah, you ain’t got enough there…,” Willy hesitated.

Without any warning, Adam lunged forward, grabbing the bartender by the collar and dragging the little man completely over to the Immortal’s side of the bar. Pinning the smaller man with a single hand to his throat, Adam tossed aside the wad of cash in favour of his much-beloved knife.

“Oh, you thought we were going to negotiate for *money*?” Adam asked in a tone dripping with insincerity. “Ah, and here I thought we were on the same wavelength. *I* was thinking more along the lines of number of minutes left in your wretched, pathetic excuse for a life.”

"Aaaa,” the bartender gurgled.

“Now then,” the Immoral smiled coldly, “tell me everything you know about what happened to Angel…”

“Ha-ha!” Xander laughed smugly. ”Forty-seven minutes! See, he doesn’t know it all...SHIT!” The sound of the passenger door opening startled the mortal teenager badly, causing him to jump high enough to bang his head against the roof of the rental. As the Immortal slipped into the seat, Xander vented in the wake of his sudden adrenaline rush. “Jesus! What is it with all you Immortal-types? Do they train all of you guys on how to go around sneaking up on people?”

“Good to know you were keeping such a close eye on things out here,” Adam remarked with all his trademark sarcasm.

“So, did you find out anything useful?” Xander asked, a little more calmly than a moment ago.

“I’d rather not have to say it more than once. Just drive,” Adam said seriously.

“See, I told you that Willy would have the 411 on the latest from the ‘vampire grapevine’. By the way, how is everybody’s favourite sleazy barkeep?” When Adam didn’t so much as move, Xander began to get more then a little nervous. After all, the guy in the passenger seat included beheadings in his daily routine. “Wait…Willy is like still…I mean…he’s…you…didn’t…”

“And if I did?” Adam questioned, just to watch the teenager’s reaction.

“Oh God!” Xander blanched. “You did…”

“Relax,” the Immortal reassured, taking pity on the boy. “Let’s just say that in walk-in refrigerators, no one can hear you scream.”

“Oh, good. I mean, okay. I mean, it’s not like I really like the guy all that much, but still…”

“Xander?” Adam called wearily.

“Yeah?”

“Just drive the car.”

“Right.”




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