Thy kingdom come...
Heimdall stood in the front room and stared out the window, the slight irritation he felt at his sight being corrupted by the infernal portal had been set aside. He still maintained enough to see where he was needed, enough so that he had managed to save the charming Joyce from the leeches that had long plagued this town.
Turning as she entered the room, Heimdall smiled before reaching out and pulling the golden haired beauty to his side to comfort her. She was just now coming to grips with the danger she had been in earlier and was currently battling the desire to collapse into an hysterical fit.
“Do others know,” Joyce asked as she stood beside the much taller man and stared out into the much more dangerous night.
Nodding solemnly at the question, Heimdall thought of the many souls that Lord Odin's Valkyrie had escorted to the mead halls with the signs and marks of battle against the undead. “Yes, some I have met, many more I only hear about once they pass on.” He answered truthfully as he thought back to the young and old that had not passed his way.
Looking up at him, Joyce swallowed tightly before asking the question she didn’t truly want to know, “Are you… like them?” she asked as she considered the unnatural strength the monsters had shown and the way the man before her had taken them apart with ease.
Taking a moment to consider that the Guardian finally shrugged “I am… different, if that is what you are asking? But I am not an unnatural abomination like them,” He explained before looking down at the woman he had saved earlier. “Do you wish me to leave?” he asked and felt her hesitate before tightening her grip on him.
“No, I'm just… Buffy, my daughter, tried to explain that she was different once a few years ago.” Joyce explained before dropping her head against the larger man's side “I was such a fool, she has been spending her time in ‘study groups’ that take much of the night, odd injuries that show up and disappear. Damn it all, my baby is out there fighting those things!” She cursed herself before her savior hugged her again in silent comfort.
While there were many things he could say without more information on who and what this ‘Buffy’ was, he would not be able to offer much to the grieving mother.
Taking a deep breath, Joyce looked at her hero once more. “Can- can you make sure she gets back? I know it’s a lot to ask, but… I just want her safe.” Joyce begged.
Looking down at her, Heimdall froze as his sight activated. The image of a blond much like her mother walking through a graveyard next to one that could only be his son. Taking a deep breath as the image faded the Gaurdian nodded, “Very well, Joyce,” he answered before stepping away from the mother and making his way out into the night.
“Did you HAVE to do that?” Buffy asked in disgust as she and Xander walked away from the third ambush of the night. Had she been alone they would have been a danger, with Xander, not so much.
“It was expedient” Xander defended and smiled at the glare the Slayer sent his way. He held the smile until Buffy shook her head and stomped off ahead of him,
“It was showing off! Ripping their heads off is expedient, chopping them in half with that sword is expedient, picking up a vampire and using it to bludgeon the others is NOT expedient.” She argued as Xander continued to smile.
“Are you mad that I did it, or that I did it FIRST?” Xander asked and smiled as Buffy once more huffed in a pout and continued on her way through the night.
Behind them, two demon-kin stepped out of the shadows before nodding and disappearing once more. The ambushed had little chance of taking down the godling, but it worked to highlight the skills of the young Asgard. With a smile the duo moved to intercept the two hunters. While strong, the boy was lacking in the experience of battle.
He would fall.
Rupert Giles rubbed his eyes tiredly before returning his glasses to his face and tapping on the coffee table as he considered what he had come up with. The three options he had managed to find were first, Egyptian, a very unlikely one due to the lack of certain signs that were portents of such an occasion. Thankfully that kept some rather dire prophecies from coming into play.
The second option was the Greco-Roman pantheon. With the lack of other demi-gods he doubted this was the correct option either. That particular pantheon had a bad habit of interfereing where ever one of their descendants happened to be and the last thing the hellmouth needed was Ares and Mars sticking their noses into the situation.
Picking up the last book Giles sighed, the Norse pantheon. While one of the more generally benevolent factions around, it also seemed to attract the most dangerous opponents to where ever they tread the Earth. The last time one of their ‘Artifacts’ saw the light of day it was with the rise of the Red Skull and his ‘Hydra’ forces.
Looking up from his book, the Watcher froze as the Raven sat on his table and watched him curiously. With a croak the bird took flight and disappeared through the hole Buffy had put in his poor abused door earlier. Watching the exit, Giles dropped the book back onto the table and headed for the liquor cabinet, he would have to report this to the Council, but he wanted to get a nice head start on the headache that was coming his way.
The woman sat in the nondescript car as it made its way down the highway. In the last few hours Shield Agents had scrambled towards her old hometown. Double checking her equipment, Marcy Ross took a deep breath before allowing herself to focus.
Sunnydale wouldn’t know what hit it.