Second in the All things considered series. A couple of years had passed, and Harry is bored. A chance newspaper article starts him on a path which will lead to a new life, a new love and lots of things blowing up.
I own neither Buffy nor Harry Potter, owned by Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling respectively.
A note on Auror Rosenberg. Yes, he is a relative of Willow’s. Yes, he’s very well informed, but no, as shown below, he isn’t omniscient.
The update rate on this is probably going to be fairly slow, as I have little time on my hands and a whole other series on fanfiction.net (LOTR/HP), a major Harry Dresden/Doctor Who crossover, other projects in the works and major exams to boot. If you’re interested in any of my other projects, I go by Nimbus Llewelyn on fanfiction.net.
Harry Potter was at a loose end. Eighteen years old, a war hero and with nothing to do other than to count the days until his auror assignment came through in two days and dodge reporters, especially since his Godson, Teddy was being raised by Andromeda. He and Ginny had had a fairly sweet eight month relationship, before deciding it was better to stay as friends, he’d applied to the Auror office and been accepted in a heartbeat, Ron not far behind. Hermione and Ron were happily dating, still arguing as much as ever, but there was a tinge of ‘old married couple’ that hadn’t been present beforehand.
Frankly, he was bored, so he left his apartment in muggle London (the exchange rate from galleons to pounds was a very favourable one, and his parents and Sirius had left him the equivalent of at least thirty million pounds, along with several properties. When he had seen the amount he had in the vaults, along with all the valuable heirlooms, his eyes had bugged out) and went for a walk.
One thing he particularly enjoyed about Muggle London was the way no one stared at him as if he was the most important person on the planet. True, he did garner many admiring looks from people as he walked by, but that was mostly down to him being handsome. He bought a copy of the Times and a copy of the Guardian, then went to get a coffee. As he flipped to the international news section, he saw something that nearly made him choke on his coffee. Coughing and spluttering and waving away concerned looks, he began to read more carefully.
American High School Explodes in Graduation day tragedy
Monsters really not behind it, city officials confirm. Gas suspected
The headline blared. Harry might have believed it if he hadn’t seen a picture of a young woman he had last seen over a year ago smiling out at him, with the caption: Buffy Summers, noted for her bravery in rescuing trapped students and organising the defence against a spontaneous attack by gangs on PCP despite panic caused by an unexpected eclipse
He grinned broadly, and left a tip on the table as he gathered up his papers. He had letters to write, research to do and a journey to plan. A journey to Sunnydale, California.
A week later, Harry’s request to be seconded to the American Auror office and build up his knowledge of Hellmouths, while acting as the liaison for the Magical World to the Slayer and the Watcher’s Council (both of which Harry felt he knew everything there was to know, having endured a two hour long info dump from Hermione on the subject) had been accepted. Since most American wizards, being possessed of remarkable common sense, avoided the dark energy of a Hellmouth like the plague due to its warping effect on the minds and magic of untrained or poorly trained young wizards, and Harry’s stature in the global Wizarding community, this was not difficult.
He took a portkey from the Auror office in London, to the Auror Office for South Western America in Los Angeles and was greeted by to local Head Auror.
“Welcome to the United States of America, Mr Potter, my name is Michael Rosenberg, Auror Chief for the South Western United States. We just want brief you before sending you on to Sunnydale,” said a tall man around ten years older than him, with red hair, brown eyes, freckles and a ready smile, stretching his hand out to shake.
“Glad to be here, Mr Rosenberg,” Harry replied, surprised at the man’s resemblance to the Weasley family, shaking his hand automatically. Then again, Harry thought as they walked through the bustling department, the Weasley’s do get everywhere.
As if the man had read his mind, he said, “My ancestors were a branch of the Weasley family that came across in the 19th century, in case you were wondering. I’ve been told by my colleagues in London that there is a serious resemblance between my family and our distant cousins in England.”
“I did wonder, as I went to Hogwarts with Ron Weasley, who’s also joining the Auror’s,” Harry replied ruefully. “I got to know the family quite well.”
“And dated the youngest daughter,” Rosenberg replied with a sly smile. At Harry’s shocked expression, he said dryly, “My secretary went to Hogwarts before her folks moved here, and she still gets the Prophet. I read it after she’s done with it, mostly to see what your government’s thinking. When I’m really bored, I read the society pages. My secretary sees that as a signal to find some major crisis before I make one for something to do.”
Harry snorted briefly, and said, “So you know that the previous Ministers didn’t like me much.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, most people this side of the Atlantic believed you and Dumbledore. We respected the old man, mostly because he didn’t refer to us as ‘bloody colonials’ every time he thought we weren’t listening, which is more than I can say for Fudge,” Rosenberg reassured him as they entered his office. While most of the people bustling around the office had shown only a mild amount of curiosity, Rosenberg’s secretary openly stared at Harry, before her boss kindly brought her attention back to the present.
“Oh, yes, sorry Sir. I’ve just received the latest reports on Wolfram & Hart, Caritas and the newly opened Angel Investigations,” she said, looking a little flustered, handing over a series of files.
“That’s just fine, Janine, I’ll read them later,” Rosenberg said with a smile, as Harry said a polite hello.
“Angel?” Harry muttered, connecting the dots from what Hermione had told him. “As in Angelus?”
“The very same vampire, Mr Potter, except he’s now possessed of a soul, and has been for the last century,” Janine interjected, then looked a little sad, and added, “except for a brief incident last year. Poor Jenny.”
“We lost one of our contacts in Sunnydale, Jenny Calendar, last year, when Angel lost his soul and became Angelus. Last we heard he was sent to Hell, but he’s resurfaced, with his soul again. All this is very relevant as…” Rosenberg explained
“He was dating the Slayer, yes, she told me,” Harry interrupted.
“So you’ve met her before, then?” Rosenberg asked, looking surprised as they entered his office, and he flicked his wand to pull out a chair.
“Once, in 1996. She mentioned Angel, but not by name,” Harry said, a faint grin on his face as he remembered a chat with someone who understood what it was like to have destiny breathing down your neck. That and the kiss.
“I take it that’s why you wanted to be assigned here?” Rosenberg asked, noting the wistful smile on Harry’s face with a little amusement.
“Yeah, that and the fact that I have to dodge reporters and autograph hunters all the time in Britain. I figure that spending a bit of time over here would be good for me, and I wanted to learn how to fight vampires. Wizards, I know, vampires I don’t,” Harry said casually.
“Well then, we’d better bring you up to speed. You know what a Hellmouth is, correct?”
“A portal into Hell itself, a nexus of dark energy that attracts all sorts of demons. The Slayer’s job is to kill them and stop someone from opening the Hellmouth,” Harry confirmed.
“Excellent. The town it’s on, Sunnydale, has 38,500 people, 43 churches and at least twelve enormous cemeteries and a permanent state of denial. No wizards or witches live there, mostly because they have a tendency to disappear. Wizarding blood is much prized in the demon community, mostly because they think it tastes nice and it’s a powerful spell ingredient. The most common and dangerous things there are the vampires,” Rosenberg said briskly, setting up a slideshow in the same manner as Snape had done when he covered for Lupin in 3rd year. It began to show a series of pictures, including the vampires Rosenberg mentioned as the slideshow rolled.
“A lot of weak vampires hang around there, but there are a few big ones. In recent years, the Order of Aurelius has been located there, along with all of the Scourge of Europe, at one point or another. Thanks to the Slayer, the Order of Aurelius has been destroyed, the eldest of the Scourge of Europe staked, an attempt to drag the world into hell by Angelus has been prevented and Angel was re ensouled, Spike and Drusilla driven out of town, aside from a brief visit by a thoroughly drunk Spike several months ago. They are now believed to be somewhere in South America,” Rosenberg paused to indicate each vampire in turn as they appeared on the screen.
“The Slayer has also disassembled the Judge, an ancient demon that can only be dismembered rather than fully destroyed. She used a rocket launcher, characteristic of her out of the box thinking. Most recently, she has thwarted an attempt by the town’s immortal Mayor, Richard Wilkins I, II and III, to ascend into full Demon form, by waiting until he ascended and blowing him up with an impressive amount of dynamite, taking the High School down with him,” Rosenberg said. “In short, a very impressive young lady,” he added, smiling at Harry’s raised eyebrows.
Harry let out a long, low whistle. “She never told me she did that much.”
“I suppose keeping up a secret identity for that long removes the incentive to brag,” Rosenberg said. “Buffy Summers is currently attending UC Sunnydale, along with two friends who have assisted her in the past. Willow Rosenberg, a clever but non-magical muggle, who I suspect is a distant relative on the muggle side of the family, and Daniel ‘Oz’ Osbourne, a werewolf.” On seeing Harry’s startled expression, he asked cautiously, “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No, I was just surprised, carry on, please,” Harry said, mulling over the availability of wolfsbane potion.
“Also in the area are Alexander ‘Xander’ Harris, her mother, Joyce Summers, who is aware of the existence of the supernatural and her daughter’s role in it, and her Watcher, Rupert Giles.”
Fixing Harry with a kind look, he said softly, “Rupert knew your parents. I believe he was in the organisation called ‘The Order of the Phoenix’, and looked up to your parents, despite being several years old than they were. After they died, he fell into dabbling with black magic, resentful at the destiny of a Watcher and grief stricken by the losses of his friends. He took the name ‘Ripper’, and I suspect many feared him more than any of the Death Eater’s short of Bellatrix Lestrange. He was a powerful and very dangerous young man, but thankfully he rarely sought to actively hurt non-magical people, considering them not to be worth his time. We do not know the precise details, but one day Rupert apparently strode into the British Ministry of Magic, and handed over a series of wands, all snapped. He said that one was his, and the rest belonged to a group he had been part of that summoned demons. When someone in the group died, Rupert regained his senses, took the wands of the participants and snapped them, and has apparently avoided all use of magic ever since.”
Harry just looked stunned, and said, “Sirius never mentioned him, nor anyone else in the original order.”
“That’s because they formally parted ways when he fell into darkness, and after he came back to the Light, he never tried to regain contact with any of them, possibly because he was scared that Alastor Moody would hex him on sight,” Rosenberg replied equably.
“Sounds like Moody all right,” Harry murmured, processing the information.
“Rupert will be the one you meet, and with his help we’ve bought you an apartment. To forestall your protests, it’ll be used by your eventual successor on the Hellmouth as this is an official post and house prices in Sunnydale are remarkably cheap,” Rosenberg said as Harry opened his mouth to do just that.
Subsiding somewhat reluctantly, Harry nodded.
“You have everything you need?”
Harry nodded, and patted a small bag at his hip. “One of my friend’s is brilliant at Charms, she enlarged it for me,” he explained.
“Your job will basically be to assist the Slayer and send warning if there’s something you can’t deal with by yourselves or if you find a Dark Wizard lurking on the Hellmouth. We’ll be paying you the same salary you would get in England at your level, but I suspect with a branch of Gringotts right here in LA, I doubt you’ll be short of cash. I’ll send one of my aurors to give you directions to Sunnydale, it’s two hours away. I hear you have a car?”
“A black Aston Martin DB-7. It’s been portkeyed to your car park,” Harry confirmed, a slight smile on his face.
Rosenberg raised a single eyebrow and nodded, then called, “Janine, can you send Harrison up? Tell him he’s escorting the new liaison to the Watcher’s Council, and Hellmouth Watchman to Sunnydale. Don’t tell him who it is,” he added with a wink at Harry.
“I’m afraid Auror Harrison is something a fan of yours, but he’s muggleborn and one of the few who can competently drive, and he knows the Sunnydale area,” Rosenberg said, a hint of apology in his tone.
Harry shrugged, then sighed at the inevitable, “Oh my God!” which signified the arrival of Auror Harrison.
Harry stood up and shook the round eyed Harrison’s hand as Rosenberg made the introductions. “Auror Harrison, meet Harry Potter, seconded from the British Auror Office to be our man on the Hellmouth.”
“I’ve read all about you sir!” Harrison said, still wide-eyed, nodding to his superior briefly. “Is it true you killed a full grown basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor?”
Harry restrained himself from rolling his eyes with difficulty. It was going to be a long two hours.
As it turned out, Harrison was calm, collected and competent, once he had adjusted to giving directions to the famous Harry Potter.
“Just take a left here, sir, and we’ll be right by your house. It’s right next door to Mr Giles, so he can help you settle in,” he said formally, then a shy smile spread across his face and reached into his pocket, producing a Wizard’s photo of Harry as
Harry parked the car.
Harry withdrew a biro and signed his name crisply, without having to be asked. Normally he would avoid it, but the man had taken two hours out of his day to help him get to where he needed to be, so Harry felt like he owed him that at least.
“Thanks for the directions, Harrison.”
“No problem, Sir. Enjoy Sunnydale,” Harrison said cheerfully, looking around to make sure no one was looking, then disapparating.
Harry looked up at his new house and murmured, “Home Sweet Home,” fishing out the key Harrison had given him.
The house was lightly furnished, with simple squashy sofa’s, a couple of armchairs and a television. The American Ministry had even gone to the trouble of stocking the fridge, Harry discovered as he gratefully made a chicken sandwich, which he dug into ravenously. He’d left London at 7:00 pm that evening, and arrived in Sunnydale at 1:30pm in the afternoon, so once he’d had a snack and a brief nap, he made his way over to the house of the man he was supposed to be liaising with.
He knocked on the door and was soon greeted by a tall man in his early forties, who said, “Harry Potter, I presume?”
“That’s me. I’m the new liaison to the Watcher’s Council and ‘Hellmouth Watchman’. Basically, I help out the Slayer and kill demons,” Harry said easily.
“We can never have too much help here. We already have a witch, Willow Rosenberg, but it seems that life on the Hellmouth has warped her natural magical abilities, making them closer to Wicca, or earth magic, and only revealing themselves at age 16. She shows signs of being very powerful one day, and a trained and powerful wizard could help with guiding her,” Giles replied, then said, “I’ll go and make some tea.”
Once the tea was ready, Giles said quietly, “It’s good to see another British Wizard over here, particularly Lily and James’ son. You have her eyes, though I suspect you get told that a lot,” he added, chuckling at Harry’s chagrined nod.
“I heard that you knew them, and were in the Order of the Phoenix,” Harry said, hopeful for any tidbits of information about his parents.
“I was, and I admired them very much. Your father was one of my best friends, and he and Sirius helped me stand up to my family over my destiny as a Watcher, and your mother was always a sympathetic listener. When they were killed, and Sirius arrested, I fell into something of a depression. I even wished that Voldemort would come back, and things would be like they used to be, for as dark as those days were, your parents and godfather were some of the best friends I ever had. After that, well, I suspect Auror Rosenberg gave you the lowdown,” Giles said with some difficulty.
Harry reached out a hand to awkwardly pat the older man on the arm. “I heard. I don’t think badly of you.”
“Thank you. That means a lot. Anyway, how is Sirius? I heard he’d been acquitted, and that Peter was the one who betrayed your parents after all,” Giles said, steering the conversation back to more normal territory, then winced as a flash of pain crossed Harry’s face.
“He was acquitted posthumously. He broke out of Azkaban in my third year and explained what happened. His case was helped by the fact that Pettigrew had been masquerading as my friend’s pet rat since he’d framed Sirius, but Pettigrew escaped. Sirius spent the next couple of years on the run, settling in his old family home. He helped the second order and was pushed through the Veil in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries,” Harry said quietly.
“Oh my dear boy, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. Remus? Dumbledore?” Giles said, horror struck.
“Dead. His baby son is my godson, but his grandmother’s raising him. Also dead. Snape killed him on his own orders in an attempt to prevent Voldemort getting his hands on the Elder wand,” Harry said, then changed the subject. “What have you been up to since you became Watcher to Buffy? I heard someone called Jenny Calendar was…” Harry trailed off when he saw Giles’ own expression take a turn for the pained.
“Oh. She was close to you, wasn’t she?” Harry said.
Giles nodded and stood up decisively. “She was. And this calls for something stronger than tea,” he said, fishing out some scotch, pouring Harry and himself a glass each.
“To lost friends,” he said, downing his glass.
“To lost friends,” Harry echoed the toast, savouring the burn of the scotch.
“I’ve heard there are a lot of vampires round here,” Harry said, but before Giles could answer, the door opened and a familiar voice spoke up.
“You can say that again,” Buffy said loudly, then her eyes widened as she saw Harry.
“Hello,” she said softly.
“Hello to you too,” Harry said with a smile. Giles noticed that both of them were blushing slightly, and hid a smile. Maybe this young man was the way for Buffy to get over Angel.
“Buffy, this is the new Wizarding Liaison to the Watcher’s Council. He doubles as Hellmouth Watchman,” Giles said. “I believe you’ve met once already.”
“Yeah, Surrey, a year or two back,” Harry said, not taking his eyes off Buffy.
“Giles, make with the splainy, now,” Buffy said, still staring at Harry.
“Essentially, Harry’s job is to help kill demon’s, vampires and to make sure that no dark wizards try to harness the Hellmouth,” Giles said.
“Uh-huh,” Buffy said, still staring.
Harry’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Are we going to stare at each other all day? Not that it isn’t fun and all, I just want to know,” he said with a touch of awkwardness.
“Um, no, no. Giles, I was just going to ask you, do you think there are any apocalypses or Big Bad material on the way?” Buffy said, looking flustered and turning away
“Well, no. As far as I can see, there are no prophecies that are due to come to fruition any time soon,” Giles said.
“Oh,” Buffy said, then looked at Harry. “You wanna hit the Bronze tonight? It’s the best club in town. Well, it’s the only club in town.”
“Buffy, the boy’s just come straight from England, the time difference is eight hours, he must be knackered,” Giles interjected.
“No, I think I’ll go. Besides, if I fall asleep, Buffy can carry me back,” Harry joked lightly.
“Cool, I’ll swing by and pick you up at 7, yeah?” Buffy said, turning around and leaving, flashing a smile at Harry as she went.
“She’s quite something, isn’t she?” Giles said, smiling slightly.
Harry ran his hands through his hair and nodded distractedly. “She is at that.”
The two passed the afternoon by cheerfully swapping Hogwarts stories and tales of the first and second Order of the Phoenix. Around six, Harry went back next door to get changed into jeans and deep green t-shirt.
Right on seven o clock, Buffy knocked on the door.
“That’s my cue,” Harry said, getting up and shaking hands with Giles. “I’ll see you tomorrow, barring an apocalypse. It’s been a pleasure.”
“Likewise, Harry,” Giles said, smiling.
“Hey, wizard boy, the Bronze ain’t gonna wait forever,” Buffy said with false impatience.
“Coming, slay girl,” Harry called, making his way out the door.
As the two walked to the Bronze, they fell into talking about what they’d done since they’d last seen each other.
“… so I blew up the Mayor with, like, crap loads of explosives. After that it’s just been the odd vamp, Spike, and…” Buffy said, trailing off.
Harry arched an eyebrow at her, and she waved him away. “It’s nothing, I just learnt that human guys can be just as a big jerks as vamps. And this guy was even worse than the Watcher’s Council.”
Harry cautiously reached out and hugged her, and was exceedingly glad when she leaned into it, instead of tearing his arm off at the shoulder. “It’s painful when you break up with someone, even if it’s a friendly split. Come on, let’s have some fun and forget this jerk of yours.”
Buffy smiled sadly and hugged him, before stepping away.
“So what did you get up to?” she asked. “Come on mister, I told you all about me, now it’s your turn,” she said, playfully poking him in the ribs.
Harry winced exaggeratedly and said melodramatically, “back woman! Before you injure me further!”
Buffy pouted at him. Harry stared for a few moments before melting under the pout.
“Is pouting a slayer super power as well? I’ll tell you. That year, I came across a potions book written by someone called the half-blood Prince…” Harry said, launching into the story of his life from sixth year until the present.
“You’ve done a lot,” Buffy said. “I mean, you conducted a full on war, broke into the most secure bank in the world and destroyed a majorly nasty big bad.”
“So have you. I can’t claim to have blown up my school to destroy a giant demon snake,” Harry said.
“You stabbed one instead.”
“The basilisk? I nearly died in the process and got lucky. Besides, the Scourge of Europe are famous and feared in my world as well. No wizard aside from Dumbledore ever survived an encounter with one of them, let alone defeated them,” Harry retorted.
“We’ve both been lucky. Lucky in our friends,” Buffy said as they walked up to the entrance of the Bronze, handing over cash as they went in.
“I’ll drink to that. If we’re actually allowed to drink alcohol here, anyway,” Harry said, automatically falling in behind Buffy as she led the way through the crowded club, sliding between and past people with the ease of long practice. And she looked very good as she did it, all lithe and… He shook himself. Down Harry! You barely know the girl, and you’re already ogling her.
But, Harry had to admit, there was a lot to ogle.
And he wasn’t the only one who noticed. He tore his eyes away from Buffy for long enough to see a tall, dark haired man leaning against the nearest wall see her, laugh and point at her while chatting to his friends in a manner that Harry just knew meant, ‘I tapped that’. All but one of them laughed with him, the other man, tall and affable looking, just looked angry. As Harry and Buffy walked past them, the man said in a carrying voice, sneering after Buffy as he did so, “Well, you know the difference between a freshman girl and a toilet seat. The toilet seat doesn't follow you around after you use it.”
Harry heard the words, saw Buffy’s shoulders hunch in pain as the comment hit home, and promptly reacted with characteristic Gryffindor rashness. Moving like lightning, he twisted and punched the man in the face, being rewarded with a loud crunch as his nose broke, then grab him by the shoulders and slam him into the wall with bone jarring force.
The man looked terrified as Harry hissed, “You don’t talk about one of my friends like that. You don’t talk about anyone like that. Especially not when I’m around, wanker.” Then he folded up as Harry kneed him in the groin. Harry tensed as a hand gently rested on his shoulder. He looked up and saw the owner, the affable looking man who hadn’t joined in with the laughter.
“I know Parker acts like an ass, and he had that coming, but don’t waste your time on him. He’s not worth it. I’m Riley Finn,” He said, extending his hand. Harry looked at him for a moment, then shook it.
“Harry Potter. It’s good to meet you, but I need to catch up with my friends. Tell - Parker was it? – that if he comes near my friend again, I’ll kill him, if she doesn’t do it herself,” Harry said, and nodded at Riley before leaving to re-join a very surprised Buffy.
“Do you do that to every guy you don’t like?” she asked dryly with a raised eyebrow.
“Only to the ones trying to hurt my friends,” Harry replied evenly.
She looked at him hard for a moment, then nodded in acceptance.
“Buffster! Who’s the guy with the glasses?” said a tall dark haired man with a tan, who had more than a little of Ron about him.
Next to him was a short red headed woman who felt like she was capable of unleashing serious power and reminded him a little of Hermione, with a bit of Ginny’s fire. These would be Xander and Willow.
“Guys, this is Harry, the wizard guy I met in England. According to Giles he’s been sent here to help kill demons and stop dark wizards making with the bad on the Hellmouth. Harry, this is my Xander shaped friend and Willow,” Buffy said, running the introductions.
“Oh my God, you’re a wand wizard,” Willow burst in, eyes wide as saucers. Yep, Harry thought, definitely a bit of Hermione in this one. “How does your magic work? Can you show me? Like, I’m a wicca and I can do things like lights, guides, fire, re ensouling vampires but I hear you lot can do all sorts of super cool stu-mmph!” Willow was cut off in mid babble by Xander who deftly covered her mouth.
“Willow, calm it with the babble. The guy just got here. You can do the Spanish Inquisition routine later. I’ll even provide the comfy chair!” Xander said, getting odd looks from Buffy and Willow, and a faux horrified one from Harry.
“B-b-but no one expects the Spanish Inquisition,” Harry exclaimed, grinning, getting a similarly delighted grin back.
“We have three deadly weapons!” Xander hit back.
“This parrot is deceased. It has joined the choir invisible,” Harry countered.
“Nah, it’s pining for the fjords,” Xander continued in a very bad cockney accent.
Both collapsed in laughter as Willow and Buffy looked on, puzzled.
“You two are very strange,” Buffy said.
“Well, they are teenage boys. We have to make allowances,” Willow said, smiling slightly.
“Come on and dance,” Buffy said suddenly, dragging Harry onto the dance floor before he had a chance to protest.
Riley watched as Buffy dragged the green eyed Brit onto the dance floor and sighed. Forrest patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.
“Sorry Riley, but specs got there first. And he got some major points for what he did to Parker. I don’t even like Parker and I was wincing at what the Brit did. The guy’s got some fighting experience,” Forrest said.
Riley snorted. “He’s nineteen at most, Forrest, what kind of trouble could he be getting into? Knocking up the wrong girl, getting a little too drunk… kid’s stuff.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been hearing rumours that someone big from abroad is sending an operative to deal with the HST problem round here.”
“Who are they?” Riley asked, interest piqued.
“Some really secret European spec ops is all I heard. Powerful, secretive, dangerous… the usual. Even Walsh knows next to nothing about it, she’s just pissed that they’re sending an operative over here and not telling her about it,” Forrest said with a shrug, before going back to his drink. Riley mentally compared Harry, who was now laughing his head off at something Buffy said, to his mental image of a spec ops soldier, and snorted. The kid was nothing more than an ordinary guy, if a loyal one with fast reflexes, he was sure of it.