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They Had Crossbows

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Summary: Having fallen through a rift brought on by Wilkins' death, pint-sized Scoobies find themselves in a world where the supernatural is commonplace. Throw in sneaky governments, power-hungry vamps, and over-protective lycanthropes, it could almost be home.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anita Blake > General > FriendshipVampireCowFR1322123,680108573212,68322 Oct 102 Feb 14No

An Impasse

A/N- Shout out to Celticchick who suggested Xander's quip at the end.

The French vampire with the girl hair, which Buffy could think of at least three ways to use to her advantage in a fight, either didn't hear the comment or chose to ignore it. Considering he was a vampire, and thus had superb hearing, Buffy was betting on the later. And why did her friend have the need to bring up her oh so recent ex? Frenchie looked nothing like Angel!

"Xander!" Buffy hissed as she turned to get a good look at the second vampire that had come into her awareness. This one was blonde and for some reason she couldn't see his face clearly. The slayer felt a worm of unease wriggle in the back of her mind; she hated it when Master vamps popped up with special powers. First there had been The Master and Drusilla with their hypnotism, then Kakistos and his fricking 2X4 necessary heart.

Now that she was on high alert her slayer senses were picking up several more supernatural signatures though they felt more like Oz than the undead. Not demons, a plus, but between the four of them they only had one silver-edged knife and Buffy didn't want to know how Xander had acquired it. Silver was damned expensive and she slept better pretending her best friends were not criminal masterminds.

While Buffy contemplated their odds of taking the new comers Xander snorted in amusement. His eyes darted from Deadboy's slightly prettier counterpart to Two Faces' incarnation if his guess about the hidden scars was accurate. "Hey, if the shoe fits... and I told you to stake his ass but does anyone listen to me?" The last part was grumbled unhappily as the boy moved closer to his best buddy letting her know silently he would back whatever play she chose. Yeah, he had picked up on Buffy's warning that there were allot more baddies lurking in the woods than he could see. Buffy, and maybe Oz, were the only ones who could possibly figure the numbers so he'd leave the fight-or-flight decision up to them.

He personally had the urge to take them all out, but that was probably just his deep seated dislike of all things corpse related.

He could feel the hairs on his arms rising as Willow hummed nervously and inched closer to Oz, with her wide green eyes darting about and into the shadows of the forest. If Xander could feel her magic bouncing around in her nervousness he wondered just what Oz was feeling. Willow nibbled her lip.

Cold blue eyes drifted from the protectively standing Slayer and Scooby to the unsure red-head. Xander did not like the calculating look in those undead eyes and squeezed the stake in his hand.

"Xander." Oz practically growled, and his next words were harsh and alien. "-I think he's doing something to me.-"

Xander blinked at the sudden onslaught of growling that was Klingon. He hadn't realized Oz was a Trekkie, then again, he was busy with the Band and most of the time they hung out it was slayer oriented. Of course Willow liked the series, but she wasn't a die hard fan like him. "-What do you mean?-" He cringed inwardly as the blonde vamp's eyes focused on Oz and Xander with interest. Oh. Angelus on a Pogo Stick. He hated it when the vamps were intrigued. That was when they were all creepy with the mind-games.

The Angel-like vampire had stepped closer: When? Xander hadn't seen it and judging by Buffy's more predatory stance she had been caught off guard too. "Jeunes précieux, you have no need to worry for your safety. It seems, by happy coincidence, you have wandered into my territory, and as Master of the City I would like protect you and your, wolf." He said wolf in a different tone, low and drawn out and with something that made Xander want to lower his weapon.

Buffy blinked and for a split second she looked confused, her stance relaxing marginally. Oz whined and took a step forward nearly dragging Willow with him. The blonde slayer kicked at the crossbow on the ground, causing it to flip up into her hand, and jumped back with a snarl as she reeled off with a perfect if dated accent. "Je ne sais pas qu'il est vous font, mais l'arrêt!"

Now that got a reaction. Burning blue eyes turned on Buffy as the vampire tilted his head the slightest bit and offered a compelling smile. It was a smile meant to disarm, and yet within it a hard steel persisted. "Vous êtes français, petite guerrière?"

"Non." Buffy responded, but her voice didn't hold nearly as much heat as it had. Xander had absolutely no idea what they were saying and hated it; whatever the vampire was doing. He felt the meaningless words wrap around him and rub soothingly. He closed his eyes as his stake wielding arm slowly relaxed.

"Vous parlez si bien, vos compagnons?"

"Je fais." Oz said in his cool, calm voice. He was looking only at the vampire and with longing. Willow held his arm now as if to restrain him, but by the look on her face she wasn't sure why she was doing so. The stake remained in her hand, ready. Never surrender your weapon, the third rule of the Scoobies and one that had been hammered in by a British accented librarian.

"Sont vous non fatigué, mes enfants?"

In his mind, Xander felt something shift. There was a low growl and he saw quite clearly a girl he had liked, a girl he hadn't been able to tell he liked as she was so shy despite her power and he was so scared of yet another rejection, stand blankly as a mad vampiress walked up and slashed her throat.

He shivered and it was like a dog shaking water after a swim. He blinked and looked around. Where did they all come from? His eyes widened as he took in people and wolves that had seemingly popped out of the woodwork while he'd been off in the land of pretty-eyes and alluring voices.

They evidently noticed his very visible awakening. "His eyes..." One of the men murmured in shock.

Xander did not have time to think; they had no hope of getting out of this situation without their Tank. Buffy was just standing there, looking at the lead vampire who had motioned to someone, and Oz hadn't moved either with Wills at his side. Their stakes were dangling from their hands. Buffy's had nearly fallen to the dirt with her grip so relaxed. One of the men was walking closer as if to take the wooden implements of death while two others were slowly circling Xander.

The golden-haired vamp was staring at him, and Xander bit his lip as he moved a step away from yet another pair of burning eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm really, really, sorry about this." He spoke aloud and noticed how the interlopers froze waiting to see what the brunette would do.

Xander spun with all the speed he could muster and punched Buffy in the jaw. It was like hitting concrete.

"What the Hell?!" Buffy screamed and touched the spot he'd struck. Her shrill, high-pitched girl tone seemed to slice through whatever haze Willow and Oz were in and both jumped and peered around. Willow let out another squeak and spun, shaking, as her magic kicked up another notch and she waved her hand at her backpack where it sat open by the fire. A spare wooden stake and a hunting knife levitated out and took up positions at her sides. All eyes followed the movement and, surprisingly, a few of the wolves shifted away.

Xander watched all while shaking the pain from his hand and mentally cursing Willow's inability to conceal her assets before the final throw down. He grumbled at Buffy, "Since when did you turn into a Rosetta stone?" He really hoped he wouldn't have to hit Buffy back to reality again. For one thing he hated hitting girls, vampires excluded, and for another Buffy's head was as hard as a rock.

"Guys?" Willow squeaked. She was back to back with Oz and holding one stake to her chest while the other two weapons continued to hover. "What happened?"

Xander snorted and moved closer to the duo, closing ranks. "We got rick rolled."

Buffy frowned. "I swear, if either of you three start singing that damn song..." She shook her head, sun bleached hair bouncing, and pointed with her stake at the Master vampire that had nearly taken them. "You. French guy. What do you want, and this time, no tricks please."

He continued to stare for a moment, motionless but for eyes could have been glowing, and Buffy frowned as she shook her head as if to clear it from cobwebs. She stood her ground.

"Perhaps, ma guerrière, we may start again? I am Jean-Claude, Master of St. Louis." He smiled, and it still made Buffy want to walk up to him and sit in his lap and let him brush her hair like Hank used to do. Thank god magic always went to crap around Xander. The vampire that did not, DID NOT, look in anyway like Angel tilted his head to the other vamp which was still staring at Xander though he occasionally looked toward Willow and her floating weapons. "This is Asher, my second."

Asher gave her a polite nod but hadn't looked away from her Xander-shaped friend. He was watching him like he was puzzle he couldn't wait to solve, or particularly delicious piece of meat... the Demon Magnet strikes again.

Evidently, Xander didn't like the attention and struck out in true Scooby fashion. "Well, nice to meet you. I'm Fred, the blonde that could smash you into paste is Daphne, our witch would be Velma, and that's Shaggy. We used to have a zebra-painted Mystery Machine but I think it got blown up."

One of the wolves coughed and it sounded suspiciously like a laugh. The black haired, blue eyed vampire had an expression of utter confusion on his pristine features.

Buffy blinked. They might get out of this without a fight after all!

Translations of the Rough Translations:
Jeunes précieux : Precious young ones
Je ne sais pas qu'il est vous font, mais l'arrêt : I do not know what you are doing, but stop.
Vous êtes français, petite guerrière? : Are you French, little warrior?
Non : No
Vous parlez si bien, vos compagnons? : You speak well, do your companions?
Je fais. : I do.
Sont vous non fatigué, mes enfants? : Are you not tired, my children?
ma guerrière : My warrior

A/N - Oz is a genius. He took French in Highschool as did Buffy. He learned it. Buffy kept it from the Halloween fiasco. Actually, as a random fact, in my personal world of fandom Oz knows four languages. English, French, Klingon, and Esperanto.
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