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Summary: This is a collection of plot bunnies that I am too busy to work on. They are driving me nuts and I hope someone will adopt them, if you decide to then review and tell me which one. There's something here for everybody, so give it a try.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Xander-Centered > Ficlet CollectionsTheLaughingManFR15129305,51111634507,38910 Sep 0811 Dec 14No

Jack the Knife

Jack "the Knife" Rayne played by Benedict Cumberbatch.

Rupert Giles stood on what was ironically called Britainia Street, staring at the quaint little house in front of him with a dark frown. By all appearances it looked very normal, even had a white picket fence in front and a lovely little flower garden, but his eyes were set on the small brass plaque nailed to the front gate that read: Jack Rayne, Private Physician. He knew the owner, as well he should since he was technically the boy's godfather and had been present when he was born.

Jack Rayne was a graduate of Oxford, born to Ethan Rayne and a stupid bint foolish enough to believe that Ethan loved her. Now Ethan, as horrible of a father as he was, had at least never skipped out on sending money to the lad and had occasionally even visited him. Of course, Rupert had met with Jack more often than Ethan, but that wasn't saying much. Jack had grown up knowing his father was an immature practioner of Black Magic and that his own name was a sick joke played on Rupert, not to mention that his mother was druggie who later became a cheap prostitute so he hadn't exactly been the most well adjusted boy on the block, but he had been intelligent. Very intelligent. Intelligent enough to become a Medical Doctor by the age of twenty through sheer tenacity.

The problem was that Jack had bonded with his father in the most repugnant manner: by learning his father's craft and had proven more adept that Ethan had ever been. His approach to chaos was all very scientific, more motivated by curiosity than mischief, but that had made his actions all the more chilling. Rupert had tried to talk the boy out of being a practioner, but unfortunately, like all teenagers, it had made the boy even more determined to do it when coming from the only father figure he had. Ethan was hardly fatherly, so Rupert had been the one who actually advised the lad, even made a few calls so that Jack's outstanding grades had landed on the right desks at Oxford.

Jack had always been a bit divorced from the rest of humanity, avoiding friendships and relationships like the plague, so he had grown up into a very apathetic young man uncaring of societal norms, particularly when said society had made his childhood a living hell due to his mother's distasteful profession. Having grown up listening to his father's stories about his and Rupert's youth, perhaps it was only natural the boy would follow in their dreadful footsteps and wreck all manner of havoc in London. He'd become a very frightening figure to the local undead population, him and his knives. Most hunters only staked their prey with the occasional burning, but Jack, well, Jack learned most of what he knew of anatomy from vampires and passed his medical classes due to his barbaric experiments.

Jack the Knife, they called him. Jack the Knife, sending his hellhounds to chase his prey until he cornered them in some dark alley and tranquilized them. By the time he was done, the vampires begged for death if they were still capable of it which wasn't likely considering that he liked to remove the tongue first.

'Made the screams more interesting', he'd said with that sly smile inherited from his father.

Ghastly boy, doing his cutting with that cold look on his face and a small smug smirk. Jack was something straight out of a nightmare, even for Rupert. Occasionally, he'd play some nasty little prank to induce chaos in the human population. The usual: terrible screams at night, police lights at a concert, convincing a crowd that someone had fired a gun, anything and everything that could lead to a full blown panic all the while calmly taking notes.

Eventuallly, Giles had been forced to call the Council down on Jack Rayne. From what he'd heard, they came down on him hard about his abuse of magic and had threatened to bind his magic if he didn't cease causing trouble in North London. It had worked on some level, Jack had ceased his pranks, but stepped up his hunting, earning some infamy in the London Underground before they gathered in large numbers and began to hunt him instead. That was the situation when Giles left England a little over two years ago and now the boy had set up shop in Sunnydale not even two weeks after his father's sick Halloween joke. It did not bode well which was why Giles had decided to pay a little visit to his godson to make some rules very clear to him about what would and would not be tolerated in his town.

With a deep breath to steady himself, Rupert walked up to the porch and rapped on the door loudly. He waited for a few moment before the door opened, revealing a very tall and gangly young man with neatly combed curly dark brown hair. His glacial blue eyes stared at Giles for a moment, the aquiline nose flaring minutely before his thin well shaped lips quirked upward in amusement. "Well, well, well, my *dear* Uncle Rupert. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Jack." Giles stated shortly in greeting, nodding his head. Jack opened the door more fully and stepped to the side in invititation, allowing Giles to enter the house. As he expected, it was clean and meticulously well organized. Likely for the benefit of his patients, but Giles was willing to bet his stash of Earl Grey that the second floor was a complete pig sty. "I think you know why I am here."

"Ah yes, to lay down the rules." Jack smirked, leading him into the parlor and pouring himself a glass of water from a pitch filled with ice. He took a sip, his prominent adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist coming by to see me. Don't worry, I've no interest in causing trouble for you or your Slayer. As you may have heard, I've given up on practicing the Black Arts."

"I may have heard something along those lines." Rupert announced, his face showing that he did not believe the stories one bit. Again, Jack's lips quirked upward in a small smirk and he raised his glass in a silent toast of acknowledgement. "Still summoning hellhounds, aren't you?"

"Well, they have become something of a calling card for me. My calling card, as it were." The young Doctor Rayne shrugged, setting his glass down. "Mass panic no longer amuses me as it once did. Threatening to have my magic bound by the Devon Coven will do wonders to curve one's appetite for chaos, but then you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

Giles ignored the jab and stared steadily at the boy, slowly removing his glasses so the full effect of his glare would not be lessened. "What are you doing here, Jack?"

"It's only natural that I'd want to be around family and you are the only family left alive that I can stomach. Besides, I believed opening up a private practice on the Hellmouth would do wonders for business." He answered, eyebrows raised in an expression of innocence. "I still do a little hunting on the weekend for pleasure. Plenty of vampires around here and the Slayer to help keep me safe from any unholy mobs. How could I resist?"

"I want you to stay away from Buffy." Giles told him bluntly, ignoring Jack's snort of amusement at his charge's name. "She has a group of friends helping her. They are good kids whom I would prefer not have to meet with your particular brand of evil."

"Evil? Is that how you view me, Uncle? Everything I did was for a good cause." He defended lightly, pausing to think about his words then looking at Giles with askance, "Graduating from college still counts as a good cause, right?"

"What you do is cruel butchery, plain and simple." Giles stated lowly, a hint of something darker in his tone. "It's why they conferred that infernal nickname on you, Jack."

"And you're one to know all about infernal nicknames, aren't you?" Jack countered easily, unintimadated by his uncle's silent threat. "At least I've never murdered anyone. Which is more than you can say. Don't be a hypocrit, Uncle. It doesn't suit you."

"Very well, then I'll be blunt: if you harm Buffy or any of my charges I will end you." Giles said seriously, a hard glint in his eyes. Jack studied him closely, then raised an eyebrow in interest when he realized that Giles was serious. He took the time to re-observe his uncle, noticing the bulge near the ribs.

"Don't threaten me, Uncle." Jack calmly replied, his fingers dipping below the bar to caress one of the throwing knives hidden there. His blue eyes were icy, registering Giles as a threat for the first time. "You know that I don't respond well to them. I've no interest in harming your charges, but you've aroused my curiosity now. Bad form, old man."

"It's no threat." Giles promised darkly. He knew that he had little chance of killing Jack if it came down to it, not in Jack's own house anyway where he undoubtedly had spells and wards set up to protect him. While he was older and more experienced, Jack was talented and just now coming into his prime as a practitioner where Giles hadn't practiced actively in decades. "You know more than most what I'm capable of. Don't test me."

"Ah, there's my role model." Jack purred mockingly, withdrawing one of the throwing knives so that his uncle could see it. He toyed with it idly, his blue orbs locked onto Giles' own eyes. "I won't harm your merry little band. I don't do humans, but should any of them require private medical attention do bring them by. I'd love to meet them."

"And how do I know that I can trust them with you?" Giles asked, eyeing the blade steadily even as he came to the depressing conclusion that he could not pull out his pistol quickly enough to defend himself if Jack decided to give the knife a toss.

"Uncle, you may think of me as a monster, but I am a professional doctor. My clients enjoy the protection of my oath. You know how seriously I take my given word." Jack smirked, sliding the knife back into it's sheath under the counter. He glanced over at the grandfather clock. "I do so hate to be rude, but I have a five o'clock appointment with Miriam Chase, so it's time for you to depart."

"Remember what I said, Jack." Giles stated, standing up from the couch and heading for the door. As he exited the house, he saw a rather beautiful older woman with large breasts and impeccable fashion sense getting out of her BMW who could only be Miriam Chase judging by her strong resemblance to Cordelia and felt a strong sense of sympathy for his nephew when he noticed she was checking her make up giddily.

He paused as an evil idea came to him that caused him to smirk.


AN: Much shorter than my usual works, but I wanted to put it up here. Review and tell me what you think.
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