Chapter Forty Three
Disclaimer. As before…Only the bits you don’t recognise are mine..
A/N. Okay. This one gets a very naughty rating, so if you’re not old enough…Don’t read it.. All my works are rated 18 for content, but if anyone thinks it needs to be higher, let me know.
For the sake of continuity, the Stargate era is set in Season eight, somewhere between ‘Gemini‘, and ‘Prometheus Unbound’. I’ve always thought that there has to be more gap between the missions that SG1 take on, otherwise they’d have been totally knackered by the end of the first season.
Chapter Forty Three.
Emily Hecht looked across the bed at her conquest from the previous night. Dean something or other. A barman. He’d chatted her up, bought her drinks and invited her back to his place. Well that’s what he’d thought. She wasn’t going to shatter that illusion, just yet. She nudged him to wake him, and slowly he stirred.
“Again. Come on, I want more. Now!”
“Demanding bitch, aren’t you.” He muttered. There was a smirk on his face as he said it, and she grinned wickedly back at him.
“Trouble is, I don’t think I can. I think three is my limit.” He reluctantly added.
A look of disappointment crossed her face. Then the wicked grin returned.
“Call yourself a man. I’ll have to see what I can do to remedy that.” Came the reply.
She slid out of his bed and padded across to the kitchen. She returned with a glass of water. It clinked as she walked, due to the ice she‘d added from the fridge. Whipping back the bedclothes to reveal his flaccidity she set to work on his scrotum with the cooling water. Soon she had a reaction.
“Where did you learn to do that?” He asked.
“Far East. Now lie back and think of England.”
“Shouldn’t it be me who says that?” He questioned.
“You’re not in charge. I am. Lie back, and close your eyes..” She demanded.
He did as he was told. This was different. Wait until he related the story to his mates. He heard the sound of his belt being removed from his trousers.
Sitting astride him, she gathered his hands together and wrapped the belt around them, securing it to the bedstead. It pinched his wrists slightly, causing him to wince.
“Aaah, poor widdle baby.” She hissed. “Don’t you like a little pain.”
“Pain. So that’s your game, is it.” He smirked. “As long as I get my turn afterwards.”
“We’ll see. Depends how long you last.” She retorted.
He felt her lips brush his. Her hands went to work in the nether regions of his body and her mouth slowly travelled down to the same area. Passing his strengthening manhood by, she worked her way down to his feet, licking and sucking his toes. He felt his legs being spread apart and his feet being tied to the foot of the bedstead. Squinting to see what he was being bound with he saw his tie around one ankle and her scarf around the other.
‘”Inventive” He thought, and closed his eyes again.
She began working her way back up his body to the point of her desire. Her kisses and nibbles on his member brought life back into his loins and soon her handiwork was rewarded with something worth the effort.
Her lips enveloped the end of his shaft and she sucked it deeply into her mouth. He gasped as it hit the back of her throat. She pulled up a little and grasped for something on the bed. Next she slid down again, and again he gasped. That was when the sock was shoved hard into his mouth. At this point he didn’t care, he was in ecstasy. Again she took him deeply, stopping at the base as an evil thought crossed her mind.
The hunger of bloodlust took over. The muscles in her throat worked to complete the task as his sock-stifled moans got more frequent. All too soon his loins gave in to her actions and the jerking motion of his hips gave way to his relief….
That was the moment she’d waited for. Her reaction was swift and decisive. She bit down hard at the base of his erect member and swallowed it down. A muffled agonising scream came from the man laid out on the bed as he opened his eyes, fear on his face as he looked first at her and then to the area where blood was flowing freely onto the bed, where his pride had been just a few moments earlier. Then the shock set in, he paled, and passed out.
Emily looked at her handiwork and licked her lips with satisfaction. Calmly she got up from the bed, picked up her bag, and went into the bathroom. When she returned a few minutes later she was clean and dressed. He was still unconscious. She untied her scarf from his left ankle and after checking it for bloodstains, wrapped it around her shoulders. Checking his pulse she found it weakening. In a few minutes he would be dead from blood loss.
“See, you could do it one more time. Pity it was your last.” She said nonchalantly, as she swung her bag over her shoulder, crossed to the door and let herself out.
Belgravia Police Station
Ed Clewley replaced the phone. His call to Buffy had been necessitated by the email he’d received from the CPS and an attached copy of their receipt of Klaus Hecht’s mail.
Earlier, he’d had the pleasure of seeing the three men loaded into an unmarked van destined for Cotterdam, courtesy of Harry Pearce. The Shadow’s manipulation of Royce had had the desired effect on the lawyer, and the statement had been retracted.
As for the attempted escape, that had been altered to one of a suicide pact between the three of them. It fitted in better with the poison pills that had been discovered hidden inside their molars. The report would state that they had died of self suffocation, by swallowing their tongues. If Hecht got hold of anything then, he would believe that the Shadow had done his job.
All that had to be done now, was draft a statement for the press….
Cotterdam Maximum Security Facility.
Willow placed the earthenware jar on the floor, just inside Royce’s cell. The possessed man walked over to it and looked inside.
“I’m to fit in there?” Questioned the Shadow.
“Hey, it’s all I could get at short notice. I promise I’ll find something larger as soon as possible.” She said, sounding slightly hurt.
“It’s still a bit small.”
“You’re a shadow. You expand and contract with the angle and radiance of light.” Said Willow impatiently.
“Oh…How do I know you’ll let me out again?”
“You’ll have to trust me, just like we’ve had to trust you.” She paused. “Besides, if you’re out in the world won’t it be easier for whoever Hecht sends after you to track you? At least in here I can keep that from happening.”
“True. Oh well, here goes.” He said resignedly.
There was a moment as Royce’s body shivered slightly when the Shadow detached himself. The demon poured into the jar and Willow replaced the lid. She said a short incantation and the gap between the jar and the lid glowed as it sealed.
Satisfied, she placed the jar in her bag just as Royce came back to his senses. She took a step back from the man in leg irons and cuffs.
“Where am I?”
“Where you belong. In Gaol.” She replied.
“How?….Where’s my lawyer?”
“So many questions. Such a long time for you to try and figure out the answers. Just know this. Don’t try and escape. Coz if you do, I’ll know; an’ you won’t like what happens.”
“Who… What are you?” He asked.
“I’m a witch, who doesn’t like to be pissed off!” She warned. “Bye.” She said, a small smile edging onto her lips.
She teleported out of the cell, leaving a shocked and bewildered Royce to contemplate his fate, and if it had all been worth it….
“How are our latest converts?” Asked Hecht.
“Doing better. I don’t think they’d drunk enough of the water to effect the transfer properly. The female was particularly resistant. That’s something we’ll need to watch out for in the future.” Replied Maguire.
The two were sitting eating lunch at a rather swish Geneva restaurant, as they discussed their plans for world domination.
“Any word yet from ‘Emily’?” Continued Maguire.
“Not yet. I expect she’s having fun on the town, probably at the expense of the unsuspecting human male population of London. She‘ll report in as soon as she has contact with the Shadow.”
“She’s not picky is she, that one.”
“She has a certain standard that she lives by. I did ask her not to rack up too much of a body count. We don’t want the British authorities looking for a serial killer now, do we?”
“Not yet, anyway.” Grinned Maguire.
“So, are they ready to be released into the wild?” Said Hecht, referring back to the Finns.
“Yes. I think so. They called in their latest report this morning and nothing was suspected, so I think they’re ready. They’ll follow the plan as was originally intended, first to the airport and then a helicopter to Bern. Naturally, at that point, I won’t be meeting them. I’ve arranged with them that they’ll get a call from me and the only option they’ll have is to travel over the border by themselves. That way there’ll be no suspicion on them from the slayers they’re due to meet up with in Germany. They’ll just think that the plan went pear shaped on them.” Explained Maguire.
“Well, hopefully by that time I’ll have more news on my proposal from the CPS. Then you can get back to your life in England and move the project forward.” Said Hecht.
Maguire nodded. “Any news yet from the sales team?”
“Not yet. It’s too early. However, I did note that a certain British government official is here on a fact finding mission. Oliver Mace. Do you know him?”
“Not a name I’ve come across.” Said Maguire. “Fact finding mission. Hah! Probably another term for party till you drop.” He laughed. “What does he do?”
Hecht smiled. “I think you’ll like this one. He’s perfect for our needs.” Hecht said, pulling a file from his briefcase. “He has links to counter terrorism….”
The Pentagon, Washington DC,
Hank Summers had had a sleepless night. Hammond’s revelations of the demise of Sunnydale had shocked him, possibly even more so than discovering that Buffy had been telling him the truth all those years ago. He’d spent several hours last night reading through the files on the Sunnydale collapse, geology reports, witness statements and theorist websites, trying to find a more logical explanation for it all. He couldn’t see one. All the experts’ theories were part of the cover up or had holes in them as wide as the now water filled crater, caused when the sea wall collapsed during a storm six months after the collapse.
Joyce. Her grave was underneath it all….
….Seated at his desk, his hand rested on a cup of coffee as he now scrolled through his emails.
He replied to several. One to Richard Woolsey, and one to Joyce’s sister, Arlene, in Illinois. He thought it best not to mention to her at this moment that he had discovered that Buffy was getting married as he didn’t know whether she had kept in touch. Arlene might be a way to find out how the land lay.
That was going to be the hardest part. Not having had any contact with the girls for so long was going to make any bridge building difficult to say the least.
He had just finished going through the various reports from agents around the globe actively searching out members of the rogue arm when his appointment schedule opened up a window reminding him of a meeting with Kerry Johnson and Malcolm Barrett. He glanced at the screen clock. He had half an hour….
There came a knock at the door. George Hammond stood there looking awkwardly at him.
“Hank. May I?” He said, as Hank opened it.
He was welcomed inside. Hank was puzzled by Hammond’s sheepish demeanour.
“I have a confession to make Hank. When you found that box of Hennessey’s yesterday, I have to admit that…I was the one who arranged it.”
Hank sat down, a surprised look on his face. “You did….Why?”
“You’ve been off world almost continuously for six years, a lot has changed in that time. There was a chance that you could have been compromised. I needed to know whether you had any prior knowledge of the Initiative, their goals, or of your daughter’s abilities before we could take it further.”
“So it was a test then. You certainly know how to shock a guy George. Didn’t my blood work prove me human?”
“It did. However we’ve recently encountered some off world parties that have been compromised with a brainwashing technique being used by some of the System Lords, and we needed to be sure.”
“I see. So how am I? did I pass the test?”
“You’re in the clear. Thor was able to scan you at the meeting yesterday, and he has pronounced you void of any anomalies.”
“That’s nice to know. Where does that leave my daughter?”
“Wherever she wants to be Hank. She’s a free agent. Part of my job as Head of Homeworld Security, is to assess and keep track of any organisation that may be either a threat, or a help to us in the event of all out invasion…”
“….And you’d like me to rekindle my family ties.” Said Hank, grinning as he caught on to George’s line of thought.”
“Judging by her actions in the past, and the little we know of the organisation, she’d be an asset. At the moment they have no idea about the Stargate, or of your involvement. We need to know how the land lies, as it were. Will you help?”
Jo sat at her allotted table waiting for Emily. As with most restaurants and bars in the area she knew the bill was not going to be cheap. Not that Jo was cheap herself, but she was ‘money conscious’, as Zaf put it, and at least made an effort to live with in her means. As she sat waiting for Emily she glanced around the place for any sign of Harry’s promised back up.
She saw the head waiter giving instructions to a young looking waitress decked out in the restaurant’s own liveried uniform. The uniform looked as new as she did.
The restaurant was situated on a corner, and her table was away from the windows towards the centre of the dining area, so she could see all the access and exit points, into both Knightsbridge and Seville Street. Through the windows she could see people passing by, some window shopping across the street, discussing the display in Harvey Nichols’ window.
There were too many for Jo to discern if any were lingering or returning, so she gave up trying. Inside the restaurant there were the usual ‘ladies wot lunch’ brigade, the bored housewives, and the ‘it’ girls, with too much trust fund, and little else to keep their expensive coiffures occupied.
Then there were the men. Some were businessmen, and some were only there because the women were there. Some of these were the sort who would divest the trust funders of their money, and the elder boredom busters of their virtue, quicker than she could read them their rights. Under the pretext of searching her bag she checked her communicator.
“Zaf, Malcolm. Can you hear me. I can‘t spot any of the backup Harry promised. Have you?”
“Negative. They must be here though.” Came Malcolm’s reply through he earpiece.
“I’m sitting on a bench outside the tube station. I can’t see anything either.” Said Zaf.
“Okay keep me informed. To be honest though, I don’t see her trying anything here. It‘s too public.” She said quietly.
She glanced around again, looking for someone or something out of place. Suddenly, there was Emily. Jo had been so busy people watching and checking for the support team that she almost didn’t notice her friend enter the restaurant. There was a predatory sashay in her gait, one that Jo hadn’t detected before, and if Emily wasn’t happily married, Jo would suspect that she was out looking to pull…
The two women greeted each other as old friends do, some of it was for show, for the benefit of the surrounding, classy looking women and their entourages. Etiquette. When in Rome, do as the Roman’s do.
The young looking waitress came over to them, pen and pad at the ready. As custom dictated in the establishment, she politely waited for the two to acknowledge her before speaking.
“Good afternoon ladies. My name is Carly, and I’ll be your waitress today. Can I take your orders please.” She said, brightly.
Jo allowed Emily to order first. She couldn’t put her finger on it exactly, but there was something in her tone of voice that indicated that Emily didn’t like the girl.
Drinks were brought over by the wine waiter. Jo noticed that Emily‘s eyes followed the man as he walked away. He was a good looking chap, she thought, but what was Emily up to?
The first course came, Emily was obviously trying to antagonise the young girl because she returned it straight away complaining that it didn’t look or smell right. Jo couldn’t see what she was talking about. The girl took it all in her stride and didn’t bat an eyelid, she just collected the plate of artistically arranged food and returned shortly with another.
They chatted about the weather, Jo’ s alleged work, shopping, fashion, and Switzerland. In fact there was nothing out of the ordinary that Jo could put her finger on, except that apart from her attitude towards the waitress, Emily seemed to give every man in the place at least one very appreciative smile. She was flirting.
Two teenage girls wearing blazers from one of the local private schools came in and sat at a table near the door. Jo’s eyes gave them the once over, and noted the acknowledging look they gave to Carly. The same sort of nod that maybe she would give Zaf, Ros, or Adam when they were on a…no, these three girls, they couldn’t be the backup, surely….
Positioned as she was, Emily couldn’t have seen them enter, but at her first opportunity she turned slightly, and gave the two newcomers the same venomous look she’d given Carly.
Emily pulled the same stunt with her second course, and when the sweet arrived she was about to say something when Jo interrupted.
“Em, if you send this one back we’ll be here until Christmas.”
Emily backed down and glared at the girl. As Carly left to deal with another customer she passed behind Emily, and gave the woman a glare of her own. Jo caught her doing it and Carly winked and mouthed a silent ‘Thank you’ to her.
They were on to their coffee’s when Emily looked around again. This time even Jo hadn’t spotted the two women entering the restaurant. A redhead in her mid twenties and a brunette around the same age were seated by the head waiter. They were obviously known to the staff as their needs were attended to very quickly. The brunette appeared to be sporting a new hairstyle because of the admiring compliments that the head waiter gushed. The redhead positively beamed at her companion and…were they holding hands?… Yes. Definitely a couple.
Emily almost lost her cool when Carly came over carrying the small silver tray with the bill on it. Several of the people seated near to them shuffled uncomfortably in their seats, and a few hushed comments were made. It wasn’t unusual for this sort of place to get the odd obstinate customer, but Emily was taking it a bit too far, and that was what puzzled her. When did Emily get like this?
Out in the kitchen Carly pulled out her phone and dialled.
“Buffy. Meals over. Not sensing nothing. She’s a stroppy cow, but I don’t reckon she’s a demon. Why did you send Willow and Kennedy in? We‘d got it covered.” She complained.
“Will and Kenn are there? How‘s her new haircut?” Buffy’s voice was chock full of feigned surprise.
“Oh, er, yeah, it looks triffic.” Said Carly, unsure that her accusation was correct.
“Okay. Better wrap it up. I’ll make sure Harry knows.”
“Buffy. Where are you?”
“Er…Harvey Nic’s. Why?”
Carly shook her head. “Nothing Mum, just checking.” She grinned.
As they prepared to depart. Jo noticed that Emily, although she’d paid the bill, didn’t leave a tip for the waitress. So Jo surreptitiously left a few pound coins under her coffee cup, after all the young waitress had done nothing wrong, and had kept her head whilst Emily was being a total bitch.
They continued chatting on their way out of the door, the two schoolgirls stood up just as they got there. Emily was getting agitated at the fact they were in her way, when one of them dropped her bag right in front of them.
“Clumsy cow, get out of the way!” Spat Emily.
Jo was now shocked by her friends attitude. “Em!… ” She started.
Distracted as she was, Emily didn’t notice the redhead lean back in her seat and deposit something small into her open bag. Jo did. There it was, a drop, possibly a tracker. They were the backup, the two older, obviously gay women. Not the teenagers. When she had a moment she’d get Malcolm to try and identify them.
She took hold of Emily’s elbow. “Come on Em. Calm down. We’ll take a walk in Hyde Park, and you can tell me what’s really up.”
End of Chapter Forty Three.