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.

Sunnydale
Two weeks later

"Run, Willow!" Oz shouted as a throng of almost a dozen vampires bore down upon them.

"I won't leave you, Oz," the petite red head cried loudly. In a much quieter tone of voice, she began reciting a chant in Latin.

"Will...!" It was all the young musician had time to say before two of the undead creatures broke out of the pack to lunge at the former couple.

Just as the larger of the two vampires reached for Willow's neck, a dim blue glow began to emanate around her entire body. Intent on breaking her neck, the vampire ignored the protective spell to his own peril. Once the creature's outstretched limbs reached the glowing aura, his undead flesh burst into flames wherever he had come into contact with the protective field. The sound of their leader screaming in agony distracted the pack of predators momentarily.

It was at that moment that the other Slayerettes emerged from their hiding places in the shadows -- heavily armed and ready to rumble.

Outnumbered more than two to one, the fight was a bitter one for the Slayerettes once the element of surprise was lost. Oz and Willow, the bait for this evening's trap, stood back to back, each squaring off against separate combatants. Cordelia was busy with a Holy Water-filled super-soaker, drenching ampires at random while Xander tousled hand-to-hand with a pair of female bloodsuckers.

Both Giles and Angel had taken out a vampire a piece as they charged into the fray. Equalizing strength with numbers, Angel was holding his own against two relative newbies. The Watcher on the other hand, wasn't as lucky. It didn't take long before one vampire managed to grab him from behind, pinning the librarian's arms to his sides in the process. Panic welled up in the Watcher as a set of elongated fangs inched closer to his exposed neck.

Without any warning whatsoever, the vampire holding Giles crumbled into a cloud of dust. Only seconds later, the creature in front of him met the same fate, revealing a stake-holding Willow as the dusty remains settled to the ground. Without the solid presence of the vampire behind him, the Watcher's arms pinwheeled as he struggled unsuccessfully to regain his balance. It was no use, and with a drunken lurch, Giles fell backwards, taking down Oz in the process. As a result, Willow was left relatively unprotected.

Before either of the men on the ground could move, another vampire emerged from the shadows, headed directly for the vulnerable girl.

"Willow!" The name poured out of Angel's lips accompanied by a snarling growl. Enraged beyond all measure, the souled vampire staked one of his two opponents without taking his eyes off of Willow and her inbound attacker. Before Giles and Oz could even stand up, Angel was already launching himself at the other vampire.

As he rushed forward, Angel's features shifted into the twisted veneer of his 'game face'. In a matter of seconds, he reached his new opponent with an uppercut to the face. The creature's head snapped back from the momentum of the blow.

The other vampire recovered swiftly and the fight was on. Punches and kicks were exchanged and landed amid a sea of snarls and the baring of fangs. For a while, it seemed as if the two vampires were evenly matched, until slowly, Angel began to gain the upper hand. Finally, a one-two combination of blows to first the solar plexus and then the face sent the evil vampire to its knees. A growl of satisfaction escaped Angel's throat as he reached forward and placed his hands on either side of opponent's head. With a savage twist of his arms, Angel broke the other vampire's neck.

By that point in time, all but three of the evil vampires could have fit into a single Dirt Devil. As if of one mind, the survivors of the fight turned and disappeared into the shadows at a full run.

Still riding their respective adrenaline rushes, one by one the Slayerettes turned toward each other to take stock of the situation. Aside from a few miscellaneous cuts and bruises, no one had been seriously injured. It was a miracle, given the intensity of the battle that had just been waged.

"Okay, that *sucked," Oz said shakily. He, like the others, was all too aware of just how close the night's fight had been.

"Is everyone all right?" Giles asked in as calm a tone as he could manage.

"Is it just me, or does anybody else miss those months we spent *without* the whole 'Prophecy of the Week' action?" Xander asked to nobody in particular.

"Yeah Giles. I thought all this stuff was over now that Buffy split." Cordelia ignored the Watcher's tired wince at the mention of his absent slayer. "I mean, this whole nocturnal commando thing is getting really old. Even the Estee Lauder woman at Nieman Marcus couldn't cover up these circles under my eyes..."

The others might have been following Cordelia's diatribe, but Willow's attention was focused solely on the vampire who had just saved her life. A vampire who, at the moment, was agitated almost to the point of being feral. Angel was still sporting his game face as he restlessly paced back and forth between Willow and the direction in which the remaining vampires had retreated. In fact, his constant movement reminded Willow of a lion relentlessly prowling the length of its cage.

"Angel?" She asked hesitantly, somewhat unnerved by his unusually ferocious behavior.

At the sound of his name, the vampire in question whirled around as if looking for another enemy to fight. It took a moment before Angel gained enough control over his demonic side enough to let down his guard. "Willow... are...are you okay?"

Nodding in affirmation, she couldn't help but ask. "Are you?"

"Wha...?"

Whether her hand shook from fear, adrenaline, exhaustion, or some twisted combination of all three, she would never know. Regardless, she reached forward, her hand stopping mere inches away from his cheek. "You... you're still in your...game face."

Had it been possible, Angel would have blushed. He was still so incredibly wound up over the near-miss with Willow's safety, he hadn't even realized. With conscious effort, he willed his face back to his normal, human visage.

Sensing Willow's discomfort over his recent behavior, Angel felt a need to reassure the petite girl that he was, indeed, all right. Her hand still remained near his cheek, and without thinking about his actions, he began to raise his own to cover hers.

"Don't!" Willow said sharply as she jerked her arm back towards her side. "The protection spell...might still be working."

The words hit Angel like a slap in the face. It seemed as though every time he finally managed to feel like 'one of the gang', something would happen to remind him of just what he truly was. 'It'll be hard, living among them.' The demon called Whistler informed Angel a few years earlier. 'The more time you spend in their world, the more you're going to realize just how separated from it you really are.' He hadn't really understood what Whistler had been talking about at the time; the true meaning made itself abundantly clear as the years passed.

Although Willow's words of warning were meant to protect Angel, the unintentional slight was enough to push the vampire back to the ragged edge of his control. Without another word, he pivoted sharply on his heel and moved away from the others.

"Angel?" Willow called after him.

"Give him a few minutes, Will." Oz said softly with wisdom beyond his eighteen years. He, more than any of them, understood the vampire's need for space in order to soothe the beast -- or in this case, the demon -- within. Besides, Angel had only gone as far as the tree line of the otherwise deserted park.

One by one they all took advantage of Angel's sudden retreat. For most of them, the sudden pause was unnerving in that, in the past two weeks, it had become such a rare occurrence.

It all started two days after Willow's strange chat room experience. In a single night, 22 people had 'disappeared.' While that number probably would not have raised eyebrows in cities like Los Angles or New York; it was considerably out of proportion for a town the size of Sunnydale -- Hellmouth or no Hellmouth.

In typical fashion, Giles and the living Slayerettes spent the rest of their afternoon trying to discover what was happening. It was difficult; however, to find answers when they weren't exactly sure what the questions were. But that all changed at sundown.

The Slayerettes were still wading through Giles' books and Willow's ill-gotten police reports when Angel burst into the library about two hours after sunset. After being brought up to speed by a phone call from Willow, the he had hit the pavement in order to shake down the 'vampire grapevine' for additional information. What he'd heard that night was enough to make him hightail it back to the library.

Her name was Eleni Vasqeria Goya y Garcia, a 500- year-old vampire with a mean-streak that made the Master look like Mr. Rogers on Valium. Between Angel's return to the side of good, Spike's recent departure, and the Slayerette's recent successes at vampire eradication; Eleni met with little to no resistance when she clandestinely arrived in Sunnydale. Eleni maintained a low profile, successfully keeping her location a secret from all the but closest of her 'army'. In fact, she'd already been in town for several weeks before word of her presence finally reached the Slayerettes.

Her presence in the California town was not mere coincidence, though. No, Eleni had come to Sunnydale with a single, deadly purpose in mind.

It was called 'The Prophecy of Legion' by one of Giles' better books on such matters. It forewarned of a strong, seductive, charismatic vampire who would create a virtual army of the living dead before attempting to open a gateway to the underworld.

Surprisingly enough, there wasn't much information on this particular prophecy. It seemed that, over the years, the so-called 'experts in the field' hotly contested the idea as a whole. In fact, there was even dissent among the group gathered in the library that night.

"It doesn't make sense," Angel insisted.

"Oh, pray enlighten us," Xander remarked drolly.

"Well, for one thing, contrary to popular belief, vampires are usually pretty choosy about who they bring across. That's why it's called 'siring.' It's as close as we get to having children." For just a moment, an expression of deep sadness crossed the vampire's face. "And more importantly, there's the issue of feeding."

"Feeding?" Cordelia echoed with a disgusted look.

"Well, yeah," Oz thought aloud. "It's like any other creature. When the population gets too high, it maxes out the available food sources."

"Food sources...you mean...like *US*?" Xander said with a shudder.

"Exactly." Angel spoke the word while staring deliberately at Xander. Despite the knowledge that such mind-games were juvenile, from time to time Angel rattled the teenager for his own personal amusement.

"So then the real danger here is two-fold," Giles cut in smoothly, bringing the conversation back on track. "Not only do we need to worry about another attempt to open the Hellmouth, we also need to consider that the vampire population in Sunnydale will explode within the upcoming weeks."

Indeed.

It had happened just as they had predicted: the numbers of disappearances continued to climb at an alarming rate, along with the number of dead bodies that were found scattered throughout the town. The authorities were as helpful as ever, citing 'growing gang violence' or 'possible cult activities' to explain the strange goings-on. The lies were given to the local press, who chose to stick with the official story rather than an independent investigation of their own, which left the Slayerettes as Sunnydale's only line of defense.

Yet, for all their efforts, it was a losing battle.

They were fighting a war on three fronts -- finding Eleni, patrolling against the packs of hunting vampires, and researching ways to prevent the prophecy. For two straight weeks each and every one of them pulled 20 hour days, 7 days a week. The routine was straightforward: school, afternoon research, and evening patrols. And after too few hours of sleep, they got up and did it all over again. Even Angel was not exempt from the gruelling schedule. Utilizing Sunnydale's extensive sewer system, he arrived at the library just as classes let out each day, then patrolled from sundown to sunrise.

Now, two weeks later, they were all about to drop.

"We should be on our way to the cemetery," Giles reminded, only to be answered by a collective groan from the assembled teenagers.

"No."

Five heads shot around at the unexpected growl. Angel had yet to move from his place by the trees, but thanks to his vampiric hearing, he'd easily heard the Watcher's quiet words.

"I'm sorry?" The surprised librarian asked.

"I said 'no'," the vampire repeated. "No more for tonight. Go home, all of you. Get some sleep."

"Need I remind you that we have..." Giles voice grew stronger with each word, fueled both by annoyance and his innate sense of responsibility.

"You don't need to remind me." Angel's tone was less brusque than it had been, but none of them could mistake the underlying determination present in it. Shifting his gaze to the blond-headed teenager, the vampire issued an order. "Get everything together and take them home, Oz. You, too, Rupert."

Angel saw the rare flash of temper light through the Watcher's eyes. 'Ah, so that's what 'Ripper' looks like,' the vampire thought, remembering the stories of Giles' youthful period of rebellion. He had seen the look before, most recently when, after hours of torture, the librarian defiantly refused to give over information to Angelus.

For a long moment, Giles was, indeed, furious. *He* was the leader, the Watcher. Who the hell did Angel think he was to challenge Giles authority? 'He's probably back to his old, Angelus ways,' the inner-voice of Ripper sneered.

Then, as quickly as his temper appeared, it retreated in the wake of conscience.

Taking a mental step back, Giles calmly observed the teenagers silently making their way to Oz's van. Suddenly, the absence of their usual inane banter caught the Watcher's attention. It was the unnatural silence, more so than their worn, haggard appearances that set off the warning bells in Giles' mind.

Angel's assessment had been correct. Fighting evil was difficult enough when one was operating at full efficiency, something that none of them had been at in well over a week. It was a miracle, plain and simple, that they had all escaped without serious injury in the earlier fight.

In the past, nightly patrols were necessary to curb Sunnydale's vampire population. Now, however, with the ever-swelling ranks of the Legion, Giles sincerely doubted that skipping one or two rounds would make much of a difference in Eleni's grand scheme.

The Slayerettes were only six in number. If even one of them fell to either injury or, God forbid, death, the loss would be devastating -- emotionally and strategically. Great danger was laying in wait for them, and they all needed to rest and recoup before heading out to face it.

Comfortable with his decision, Giles headed for the van to join the teenagers. He was halfway there before becoming aware that he was not being followed. Stopping, he turned back to look for the missing member of the group.

"Angel?"

"Don't wait for me. I'll find my own way home," the vampire replied stoically.

It was the flat, resigned sound in Angel's tone that set Giles' mind in motion. With a sudden flash of insight, he realized that the vampire had no intentions of following his own advice. The Watcher would have bet anything that Angel fully intended to patrol the cemetery by himself. At any other time, Giles probably wouldn't have given a damn, but with the Legion Prophecy, Angel was a vital member of the team.

"Come, Angel. You're as exhausted as the rest of us." Giles could tell by the expression on the vampire's face that Angel was about to protest hotly. "Surely you must realize the sheer folly in going to the cemetery by yourself. If ever there was a time we needed not just your fighting skills, but your expertise; this is it."

Whatever words Angel was about to speak remained unsaid as he considered the truth in Giles words. After a moment of internal deliberation, the vampire swiftly reached his conclusion. Comfortable with his decision, the 243-year-old silently trailed behind the Watcher as they made their way over to the waiting van.




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