I do not own Buffy or Torchwood. You know who does. : )
Post season seven for Buffy. Season Two for Torchwood, right after Jack has come back.
This story really has no real point…I was just having a bit of a creative problem and needed to write something to get my muse flowing. I ended up liking the first chapter so here it is!:)
Buffy had come to Cardiff chasing some possess-y, demon-y, alien-y…thing.
It went off her radar as soon as she arrived, which was way
weird seeing as how it survived by possessing seemingly happy, normal individuals and forcing them to commit suicide, for some reason, and that just wasn’t of the normal. In fact, it was completely noticeable.
Closing in on her seventh day there, Buffy finally got a lead, thanks to a handy dandy little police computer hackage ala Willow back in London. A lead not really wanted seeing as it involved a dead guy that didn’t have
to be dead, but hey, it was still a lead none the less and that made Buffy grateful. Not that the guy was dead of course.
She stood around the corner of an adjacent building, waiting for the police to vamoose so she could scope out the scene when a large black van type vehicle came screeching to a halt. The discontentment of the police was highly visible.
This must be Torchwood. The ‘secret’ agency that she had already had scoped out because, well, Buffy knew all about secret government organizations and really, after her last foray into that world, well, she’d really rather not do it again.
All, again, in thanks to Willow’s wonderful way of hacking into every private record ever made.
Also, she noticed that they had gotten to the scene in remarkable amount of time. Next time, she would have to be faster so she could get there first. Though, at the same time, they had a car that could go seventy miles an hour and Buffy had…her legs. She was a fast runner, faster than human legs most definitely, but a cheetah she was not.
Four people stepped out of the vehicle, all in laughable dramatic fashion.
A young, shorter man with short brown-ish hair. A pretty Asian woman that reminded Buffy an awful lot of Willow for some reason. Another pretty woman with dark hair who definitely was part of the police force at one point. And the man that was definitely their leader. He wore a long, gray, wool-ish coat that swished when he walked.
Buffy recognized him—and his billow-y coat—immediately.
She grinned wide and watched as he immediately sent the police off while his team took over the scene.
Buffy glanced at the Torchwood team for a few more moments, using her awesome Slayer hearing to pick out bits of information that may or may not be important to her.
Basic details about the incident were what she was after, but all she heard was them arguing with the last remaining detective on duty.
“I guess it’s time to make my entrance. I’m never going to learn anything while the police are still hanging around.” Buffy smiled then frowned quickly. “Right. Alone. Save the witty puns for when there’s people to hear.”
She set her face into the most innocent look she could muster up, and boy was it innocent
. It was the look she used on Giles when she had a completely ridiculous idea or when she wanted something particularly silly and frivolous. It was the look that had gotten her on this particular case.
She did a quick weapons check—Mr. Pointy on the inside of her coat pocket. The scythe was tucked in the back of her jeans, with it’s blade running up most of her back. There was another stake in her left boot and a small (ish) sword in the other.
Check, check, check and check.
She pulled a small, plastic perfume bottle out of her coat pocket and stuck it up her sleeve.
She walked, slowly, down the alley, like she was just a silly lost tourist. An idiotic American that took a series of wrong turns. The detective glanced quickly at her then back at the Torchwood team before turning his full attention back on Buffy. He walked quickly towards her and stopped; his large frame directly in her eyesight of the body.
“Excuse me, Miss, but this is a crime scene. You can’t be walking here.” he said, briskly.
His accent wasn’t Welsh nor was it British, not that she had been expecting it to be.
She’d spent enough time in Italy to know a full blooded Italian when she saw one.
She glanced past the detective, just a for a second, to see the Torchwood team staring at her intently.
Buffy turned her gaze back to the detective, who was staring at her, just as intently as Torchwood was. Before she had a chance to speak, or use the ‘puppy dog eyes’ that she was ever famous for, the detective stiffened his body—and gaze—up. He was a cop and Buffy knew that particular bit of body language well. In the few seconds that she had spent scoping out the Torchwood team, he had been studying her features.
“Wait...short. Petite. Blonde. Caucasian. Green eyes. You wouldn’t happen to be American now, would you?” Because it just so happens that there’s a young girl on the hot list here that I would say she matches your description perfectly. Caused some trouble a few nights ago, in back of a pub.”
Buffy winced and hoped he didn’t see it.
She had been scoping around, trying to get some info on her possess-y demon-y alien-y thing inside the bar. One of the local drunken idiots got a little hands-y so she decided to leave, for his own safety. She had just exited the pub when she spotted some vamps. Said drunken idiot had followed her outside, got himself in the way and she may or may not have broken some of his ribs trying to push him out of danger. She fled the scene when she heard sirens.
Buffy cleared her throat and made sure the innocent look was still as innocent as it could get, eyelash batting and all.
“I’m American, yes, but I just got here today. I was out for a walk and I must’ve gotten a little lost.”
She was hoping that he was going to buy it, but she could tell by his still stiff body language that it was a no-go.
“That is….about some of the worst lying I’ve ever heard. I’ve been doing this a long time. I don’t know how you did it or what you used, but that man’s ribs were completely shattered.”
“If he had just stayed out of the way, like I told him to, he would be fine. So he’s got some broken bones. Big deal. Better than being vamp food and, you know, dead.” Buffy mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Oh, um, uh, nothing. Nothing.”
“Did you just admit to being at the scene? What were you doing there?”
Crap crap crap. Buffy’s way with the cops had always been strained if not down right awful
Fine, he wanted to know? She would tell him. Even though Giles was so much better at it. Though, she probably shouldn’t tell this part to Giles. She was sure that he would frown upon her telling their secret to random people without it warranting a reason.
Actually, she knew he did. Hopefully, by the time she was done, the detective wouldn’t remember it.
“I was fighting off some vampires and broken ribs got in the way, which lead to him accidentally being tossed into a concrete wall. You see, tens of thousands of years ago, longer than that, actually, when man first appeared on Earth, they weren’t the first ones. Demon kind had been here for thousands of years before that. The last of the demon kind mixed his blood with a human and so on and so forth, creating vampires. Demons were soon to follow. They just walked upon Earth, creating Hell in their wake. A group of stupid, idiotic men, presumably all ego-centric like you, harnessed the power and shoved it inside of a girl’s body. That girl was their protector. They named her ‘the Slayer’. One girl, in all the world. To fight off the demons and vampires and just general forces of darkness. One Slayer dies, another arises and her training begins all over again.”
She finished her a little speech, thinking that she had actually possibly done maybe a little bit better than Giles. She chanced a glance at the Torchwood team. The three lackeys were staring, incredulously at her, while Billow-y coat had wide eyes. He knew the story, then.
“Bloody lunatics. That was a nice little story lady, but it doesn’t cover up the fact that you assaulted a man.” He took handcuffs out of his back pocket. “You’re coming with me.”
Buffy sighed. Yeah, right. But she would play along, for the detective’s sake.
She was getting bored.
The Slayer had been bored for a while now and was itching for a fight.
“Okaaaayyy. You caught me, Mister Copper. I am just a crazy American girl and I’m dangerous and need to be stopped.” she said, barely resisting the urge to smile like an idiot and placing her arms straight out in front of her.
The detective noticed the little plastic bottle in her hand.
“What’s that in your hand?” he asked, carefully.
She smiled and flipped the bottle out into the open. “This? Oh, nothing much. Just some perfume.”
He started to move towards her again and she sprayed it directly into his face. He stopped in his tracks, standing silent and still. Buffy grabbed his badge out of his pocket, flipped it open and studied it for a moment.
“Okay, Detective…Febreze. Oh, wait, no. Fabrizio. Sorry ‘bout that. I think it’s safe to say that you never saw me tonight. You never heard my little Slayer speech. In fact, you’re going to go back to your desk and take my description off your little list. You checked it out and it was all a big misunderstanding. As for the crime scene, you got here but everything was already being taken care of so you left. Got it?”
Detective Fabrizio nodded his compliance.
“Good. Now go.”
Buffy turned and watched him walk out of the alley.
She turned back to find the Torchwood team a lot closer to her than they had been, and their guns, staring her in the face.
She sighed. “Really? Do we have
to do the gun thing?”
“Who are you?” asked the Welsh woman.
“We can talk all you want. After
you get your guns out of my face.”
Not one of them budged.
“Who are you and what did you do to him?” Billow-y coat asked.
Buffy stared at the little miracle bottle of potion before sliding it back inside the safety of her coat pocket, right next to Mr. Pointy. She leaned against a wall, carefully as she was pretty sure a scythe in the back would hurt, and folded her arms.
“I told you. Talk-age happens when there’s no guns in my face.”
“You wouldn’t begrudge my team a little protection, would you?”
“Would it make you feel better if I de-armed myself first?”
Buffy didn’t wait for an answer. She pulled the stake and the baby sword out of her boots and let them clatter to the ground. She pulled the scythe out from the back of her jeans, but held onto it, tightly. She left Mr. Pointy secured inside of her coat pocket.
She didn’t want to toss her favorite stake on the ground with the others but she also didn’t want to toss the scythe down, either. She didn’t have enough hands to hold both comfortably so she decided that they didn’t need to know about Mr. Pointy.
“I’m officially de-armed. This doesn’t go on the ground, though. It’s extra special and severely powerful. And I don’t want to get it dirty.” she said, referencing the scythe.
Billow-y coat nodded and his teammates lowered their guns.
“Thanks. Guns freak me out. But I guess being fatally shot does that to a person.”
“—am I and what did I do to him. I know, I know. It’s a potion my best friend created in the lab. It stuns the person and puts them in a sort of…thrall. It lasts for about an hour, two at the most. It’s safe. He’ll fall asleep and wake up a bit foggy headed in the morning. Nothing a Tylenol won’t be able to cure.”
She turned her attention so it was fully on Billow-y coat.
“You. You knew my story.”
“It rang a few bells, yeah.”
“So then, you know who I am.”
“You’re the Slayer.”
“Yep. Well, a
Slayer. Co-Head Slayer is my official title now, since Sunnydale. I help run the London division of the Slayer’s Council; Faith runs Cleveland. Also, I was your 10 a.m. appointment yesterday morning. Sorry I never showed. Police on my back and all. Your Captain Jack Harkness, I presume?”
Jack stared at the small, blonde girl with wide eyes but he quickly let his expression settle down to a cat like grin.
“The one and only. Well, I mean, unless you count the Buffy-Bot that one time. Oh, and the twenty seven doubles I have stationed around the world.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Buffy. You are legendary in your profession. Or so I’ve heard.”
“Legendary-Smegendary. Who’s your team?”
“That’s Gwen Cooper, Owen Harper and Toshiko Sato.”
Owen Harper.” Owen corrected.
Buffy didn’t miss the mass team eye roll.
“Nice to meet you all.” she said, walking past them, over to the body.
“Okay, time to get down to business.” she added.
“It just looks like a normal suicide.” Gwen said, coming to stand next to her.
Buffy smiled . “If it was normal neither you or I would be here.”
you here?” Jack asked. Not in a rude way. Merely curious.
“There’s this thing that I’ve been tracking. It’s lead me through pretty much the entire UK. Last seen in London, heading towards here.”
“What kind of thing?” Gwen asked.
“Um….it’s a possess-y demon-y alien-y…thing. I don’t know the exact name for it. I’m not really research girl. I’m more….action-chase-crush-kill-destroy. Girl. No worries though. I’ve got a research team on it back in London.”
“That answers absolutely nothing.” Owen said.
“It’s a demon-y alien-y thing that possesses people. I thought that was very informative.” Jack answered back with a grin.
“Okay but why? Why does it possess people?” Toshiko asked.
“It survives by possession and destruction. It possesses a person, destroys their life and then when they are at their last breaking point, it forces them to commit suicide, thereby destroying the lives of their family and friends. It leaves it’s host and goes M.I.A. for a bit then comes back around for some more. There doesn’t seem to be any kind of logical pattern with the victims and there’s about a thousand plus demons that survive off of possession. And those were just the books written in English.” Buffy answered.
“Owen, bag up the body and get it ready for transport. I’ll let Ianto know what’s going on so your station will be ready.” Jack ordered.
He pulled car keys out of his pocket and tossed them at Gwen.
“I’ll be back later. Buffy, would you mind accompanying me for a drink?” His smile was pure charisma.
Buffy nodded. She put the scythe back in it’s hiding place and retrieved the rest of her weapons from the ground, placing them back in their spots.
Jack held out his arm and Buffy took it.
They walked in silence for a few minutes before Jack spoke.
“I wasn’t aware that the Slayer’s Council dealt with aliens.”
“We don’t. Pretty much foreign territory to us. That’s why the meeting was scheduled.”
They stopped in front of a pub and Jack held the door open for Buffy. They sat down in a secluded corner.
“What can I get you? It’s on Torchwood.” Jack asked, his smile still beaming.
“Just tea is fine. I don’t really do the whole drinking thing anymore. It leads to cavemen, kitten poker and giant snake men. Not necessarily in that order.”
“Okay, at some point you’re going to have
to tell me all of those stories.” Jack grinned as he walked over to order her beverage.
He came back a few moments later. He set Buffy’s tea in front of her and took his seat across the table.
“So what else do you know about this possess-y demon-y alien-y thing?” he asked.
“Everything I already told you.” Buffy said, lifting her tea up to take a sip.
“If you don’t mind me asking—“
“I was at a pub down the street from where I’m staying, trying to scope out some info. A guy in the pub got a little hands-y so, for his personal safety, I decided to leave. As soon as I got outside, I saw some vamps. Hands-y followed me out of the pub and got himself in the way. I didn’t mean to hurt him. It just happened.” Buffy explained in full detail.
She noticed Jack leering at her.
“And I’ll break yours too, if you keep looking at me like that. You may be immortal, but I’m almost positive that it would still hurt like a bitch, at least for a few days.” she smiled.
All the amusement drained from Jack’s face.
“How do you know that?!?”
Jack was mysterious and he liked it that way.
“I’m the original Slayer, Jack. Do you understand what that means? There’s absolutely no way my Watcher would send me here, for your help, without digging up a little info first. Not only has he been my Watcher for the last ten years, he's been more or less like my father. He has a very good interest in my personal safety.”
“What do you know?” he questioned, all the earlier amusement still lost.
“I know about your time with the Doctor, who says hello, by the way. Martha too. I know how you became immortal. Though, no, it’s not really immortal, is it? You can die, sure. You just don’t seem to stay dead. Pretty handy, if you ask me. I obviously know about Torchwood. Your little misguided time jump. Your war days. That you stole your name from a dead man….shall I go on?” Buffy asked.
“You know the Doctor? And Martha?”
“Sure do. How do you think I did my research? I don’t do books. Pretty sure I’ve already said that.”
“Do I know them? Well, I’m afraid that’s classified information, Captain. But suffice to say, he owed me a favor. And Martha and I are friends.”
Jack nodded. “Well, at least you both have that whole no gun thing in common.”
“And I’ve died a lot, like you. So that’s one thing we have in common. Look, Jack, I realize that you’re weary, but I’m not here to harm anyone, except that possess-y thing. I’m here for help. We’re highly suspecting it might be alien since it was heading towards the Rift. Like I said, Slayer’s Council doesn’t do alien. Also, if I might add, it really was a wasted effort on your part putting the Retcon in my tea. My blood has already burned it almost all off.”
The Captain’s eyes went wide, again. “How—“
“Research, my dear Captain, research.” She grabbed a pen and a napkin out of a container on the table and scribbled down her address, handing it over to Jack. “If you decided I’m trustworthy enough, here’s where I’m set up. Thanks for the tea, even if you did try to poison me.” she smiled.
Buffy got up and turned to leave when Jack called her name out. She turned back around.
“Do you always give out your address on the first date or am I just that lucky?” he winked.
Buffy didn’t answer. She just smiled and flashed the scythe in her waistband.
“Rough. I like that.” he grinned back.
Buffy shook her head and turned away, towards the door. She couldn’t help the laugh that came out as she walked down the street, back home.