What You Feel
AtalantaChapter 1: What You Feel
Discalimer: Ok, so no, I do not own any of the characters. Buffy belongs to Joss Whedon. And Grimm belongs to Stephen Carpenter, David Greenwalt, and Jim Kouf, I believe. So unfortunately, no, I don't own any of them or anything of the like. Basically, I am just playing in someone else's sandbox. However, this story and the ideas within it are entirely my own. And the chapter title is the name of a song from Buffy, by Hinton Battle.
This is my first story on here, so any constructive criticism would be lovely. I never posted up here because I didn't feel like any of my stuff was up to par with some of the excellent authors on here, which it still isn't in my opinion, but I was so frustrated only one person had done a Buffy/Grimm crossover, and then left it to die, I wanted to get more support for the crossover and felt that putting up my own story might help with that. Plus, I wanted a Buffy-centered one. So, I am hoping others put some up as well!!
NOTE: Also (I forgot this when I first posted this up), I am pretty much ignoring season 8 and 9 for the most part, except for the idea of the slayer school/organization they showed in the beginning of season 8 comics. Of course, it is not the same, just the idea of it. So this is post-series for Buffy, and season 1 of Grimm (that is all there is so far!). I am also taking some liberties in order to combine the universes. If you don't like how I am combining them, or have an idea that you think would work better, feel free to message me or even review with your suggestion. ^_^
“’Oh no, Buffy, Portland is really quiet this time of year. It is the perfect place for you to take it slow for a little bit. You will be able to relax and just take a break for once.’
” She mimicked in a high voice, mockingly.
“I must seriously be an idiot to have believed even a word of that.” Buffy said aloud to herself as she slowed her rental car (despite it having been years since living in Sunnydale, even to this day they wouldn’t give in and buy her a car of her own) to a stop in front of the police barricade.
With so many people in uniforms milling about, as well as normal civilians, and the stationary but obviously wrecked SUV in the middle of the street, it looked like it had been a particularly nasty case. Watching as the paramedics carefully arranged an injured and bleeding man onto a stretcher, her vision shifted over a bit and she noticed the overturned coolers. Being who she was though, of course the coolers would not be filled with normal things like soda or lunchmeat. No, instead of the normal things coolers held being splattered across the asphalt, there were various organs and blood staining the street.
Somehow she didn’t think Portland would be as safe and relaxing as her friends had thought.
Seeing a man purposefully walking in her direction, she knew she had been staring at the scene too long for the man’s comfort. Rolling her eyes at the predictable way police worked, she stayed where she was and waited for him to reach her, mentally bracing herself for the ridiculous questioning. She knew that criminals tended to return to scenes to revisit their handiwork, and the way she was staring at that body, it really didn’t surprise her that the man was curious as to why she was there.
“Miss, can I help you with anything?” The handsome, young detective asked her. He was trying to go in this nicely, just in case she actually ended up being a random nosy bystander. The man was at least a head taller than her, but had a sort of innocence or naivety about him that made her instinctively want to pull him behind her to protect. Loosening a small, tight smile, Buffy lightly shook her head, scattering a cloud of blonde around her head as she did so.
“No, not really Officer; I was just driving down the road, saw this, and wanted to know what happened.”
Her answer was smooth and concise, almost like she was used to being asked questions like that at potential homicide investigations. The brunette detective raised a brow in suspicion. Seeing the unbelieving look on his face, the slight woman blushed in embarrassment, and raised her hands, gesturing wildly.
“No, I mean, I am new to the city, and this is really the only road I know to take in order to get to my house, and I was surprised to see it completely blocked off, I mean, it is a pretty big road and all, right? So, I decided to pull over and see what had happened….” She babbled on, eventually trailing off when she got to the end. Buffy smirked in her head.
At thirty-two she had long ago learned that her life was usually a lot easier if people underestimated you. And after years she had finally learned to perfect that ability she had only partially been playing at being as a teenager.
It wasn’t that she was guilty of anything, but she knew that if the guy didn’t think she was an idiot, or at least a complete spaz, he wouldn’t leave her alone because she had forgotten just where she was and had been staring at the scene intently. She wasn’t back in Rome, or even in London, where the authorities were used to her and her girls being around crime scenes that could possibly involve the supernatural.
Luckily, she was confident she had gotten him off her back, at least for now, anyway.
Nick knew the woman was hiding something the second he had caught her staring, transfixed on the blood and organs dumped out on the street. Was there another
Blutbad in the city that he didn’t know about? It was
possible; he would need to remember to ask Monroe about it later.
His feeling that she was hiding something only increased as she explained what she was doing and how she had stumbled upon the scene.
She had no personal connection to the victim and yet, rather than shy away and quickly leave the gory scene like most would, she had stayed, her eyes transfixed on the stolen parts. He knew some creatures were excited by the site of blood and the like, but so far during their conversation she had not shown any signs of her “other” side.
Except for a slight smell of sand and what he could only describe as the smell before a storm, she was perfectly normal. But there was a reason why his Aunt had told him to trust his instincts, and he knew this a perfect example of that.
He would have to visit Monroe much sooner than he had originally planned in order to ask him what he knew about the particular smell she had given off when she had been staring at the blood. Something inside him was telling him it wasn’t just a shampoo or fragrance, but rather a trait of whatever she was, which meant it could potentially help identify her creature.
He needed to know if he should watch out for her in the future, and more importantly, he needed to know if there was a possibility she was involved with the case, with the creature that had been transporting the stolen organs.Author Note: Reviews are love. I really want to know what you all think about it so far, and if there is anything I can work on to make it better.