Slayer Trade Off
Author’s Note: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel. Any other copyrighted materials that appear in this story will be mentioned and disclaimed in the chapter they appear in. Thanks very much to my Beta’s, Letomo and EllandrahSylver. The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. Speech:
“Who’s on first.” Thought:
*What’s on second.
#I-don’t-know’s on third.# This story contains some thoughts and actions of Richard Wilkins set during Waifs and strays. Slayer Trade Off
Richard Wilkins I, II and III was not in the habit of checking his Deep Wards on a daily basis, but he did do it at every full moon. The Deep Wards were set around the most secret of his projects, the most delicate experiments, the most dangerous of his imprisoned opponents that he wanted to keep alive.
The Deep Wards were anchored on one of his most prized possessions, a prize that was so glorious that not even the highly perceptive woman who had sold it to him had known its full significance.
Rowan Davida Rosenberg was the core of the spell-work that had finally put the basement experiments even beyond the power of his strongest rivals. Richard Wilkins no longer had enemies. The ones who opposed him were dead; the others were striving for the same thing.
Not even Cyvus Vail could penetrate his wards and the very nature of them would keep out the Meiers and the Warrens. And while the Ice Queen might breach them if she used her full power, she was not likely to show up and try and breach them, since she would have to tap into the full elemental power of her gift, which would unleash a storm of vast strength on the West Coast. She would not want to do that, so Richard was safe from that, like he was safe from myriad of dangers. He controlled Sunnydale, and in many ways the Hellmouth.
Oh, there was the occasional idiot who tried to open it by some silly ritual. Wilkins had personally seen to it that there were hundreds of the things scattered about. Each and every one of them needed one or more rare and powerful ingredients, dangerous items and priceless artefacts. And since Richard Wilkins was waiting for them and knew they were coming, they tended to end up dead and their carefully hoarded items and wealth became part of the ever expanding Wilkins collection, to be traded for favours necessary to achieve the grand plan, his Ascension.
Richard Wilkins smirked as he leaned back and patted the golden goblet that had been a key part of the latest aborted ritual to open the Hellmouth. With the arrival of the Slayer, more people – and he used the word in the widest possible sense – would appear and try and open the Hellmouth. Slayers tended to draw out the nutcases from the woodwork. Though he might lose some of the items, it was more than likely his total haul would be greater. And she would deal with some of the most annoying pests and crackpots that haunted the town. All in all, Richard decided, as he wandered through the antiseptic basements, the Slayer being in town was probably going to be a good thing. He wondered if her Watcher could be bought.
It was amazing how many of them were on the take; as far as Wilkins could figure it out no less than a third of all the Watchers were corrupt or downright evil, betraying their calling and their charges.
The most notorious Watcher to an active Slayer, a man called Ephraim Blake in the early twentieth century had actually pimped out his Slayer to rich men who craved the excitement of a woman capable of ripping them limb from limb. Or the ones who enjoyed having such a girl at their mercy. Blake had stated it was a recompense for the loss of her future presence as she would not be available to him after she died, like an uncalled Potential would be.
That particular Slayer had been killed after a few months, and rumours persisted that the Watcher had sold her out. Richard thought it a marvellous example of true capitalism in action. The current girl's watcher was unlikely to be quite so amenable to monetary inducements. He might be one of the type who shared his Slayer's bed, on one of the many pretences that the Watchers had devised to veil their rather less than salubrious activities.
He made a mental note to find out as much as he could about the Slayer, her family, and her Watcher. Leverage was where you found it, and Richard was very good at finding leverage. Archimedes could have taken lessons from him. Richard smiled.
“She is hardly going to be a problem. It would be inconceivable.”