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Chosen Champions

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Summary: A group of diverse champions are dragged through the dimensions to aid a world in need.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Faith-Centered(Current Donor)KCollFR18614,3370165,2581 Oct 124 Feb 13No

2

Fic: Chosen Champions (2/?)

“Oh yeah, oh yeah!” Faith moaned as she straddled the man beneath her, naked, sweat-slicked hips moving rhythmically up and down, her body jiggling hypnotically as perspiration ran down her curves. “Harder! HARDER!”

**

“Son of a bitch!” Dean Winchester glared around the countryside he, his brother, and Bobby had mysteriously been teleported to. They were in a shadow-shrouded clearing encircled by trees and thick green bushes. “Cas!” he looked up at the sky above as he let out a despairing bellow. “Seriously?”

“Oh boy.”

Dean began to glance towards his brother then stopped, jaw dropping open at the sudden appearance of the naked brunette Playboy centrefold straddling an one-eyed man, the lucky bastard unsurprisingly looking like he was havin’ the time of his life. “Okay,” he muttered, “suddenly I’m no less confused, but way way less mad.”

“Holy crap!” The dark-haired beauty jumped off the man, one hand dropping to cover her crotch, the other swinging up to cover her world-class rack. “Where the fuck are we?”

“Hey,” Dean put on his best lady-killer smile, “Dean Winchester, and you have been teleported to heaven, clearly my version there of.”

“Oh boy, Dean.”

Dean blinked as a trio of newcomers materialised at the other side of the naked couple, one another brunette babe carrying a pair of sai blades, a slightly-built Oriental who looked like he moved like a jungle cat, and a thick-set, shaven-headed black whose aura screamed bad-ass.

Still on balance, he’d rather look at the naked brunette. “Is anyone gonna score me some clothes?”

Dean’s smile widened as he grinned at the beauty. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

“You don’t,” the black threw the brunette his leather jacket, “this should cover you up to the knees, Faith.”

“Thanks Blade,” the girl drawled as she hurriedly pulled the jacket on and zipped it up.

“Oh balls!” Dean and Sam exchanged puzzled looks at Bobby’s gasp. “Darn idjits,” Bobby shook his head, “tell me you haven’t heard of Blade, the vampire hunter?”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean whispered, eyes widening. He did remember something about the infamous dhampir from his dad’s journal, but had thought he was just another urban legend. “And the others?”

“Who do I look like to you, a walking Yellow Pages?” Singer snapped.

“Whatever the dimension, you’re still a prickly old goat,” Dean shot back.

“I’m Blade,” the black confirmed before looking towards his companions, “and this is Elektra and Shang-Chi.”

“Why you-.” Bobby trailed off when another couple appeared, this time one powerfully built male in his mid-forties with dark hair and laughter in his eyes, the other another brunette babe, this one dressed in black leather leggings with a white shirt tucked into them under a black waistcoat. “What the hell is going on here?”

“And my name is Bo, Bo Jones,” the remaining brunette put in.

“I’m Jarod,” said the middle-aged man.

Dean blinked as a tall, powerfully-built man with a black ponytail in his mid-thirties appeared, together with a short-cropped but very hot brunette. “Oh come on!” he muttered. “This sure as hell doesn’t look like Central Grand Station, so where are these people coming from?”

“I’m Duncan MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod, and who are all of you?” queried the newcomer, eyes wary. He glanced at his companion and let out a long-suffering sigh. “And this is Amanda Deveraux.”

“Faith Lehane,” the brunette in the leather jacket drawled, “the nudist is my hubby, Xander Harris.”

“Speaking of which, clothes anybody?” squeaked the one-eyed man, his face flushed in embarrassment.

“Consider this a donation,” Duncan drawled, his voice thick with a Scottish brogue as he pulled off his duster and threw it to the one-eyed man. “You can keep it, I’d only burn it if you gave it back.”

“Oh thank you, god!” the one-eyed man squeaked as he dragged the duster on.

“Bobby, Bobby Singer,” Bobby said. “These two idjits are Dean and Sam Winchester.”

“And who are they?” Duncan pointed as another group appeared. A tall, square-jawed man with dark soulful eyes and matching hair, a slightly-built man with sharp features, crewcut white hair, and piercing blue eyes, another slightly-built man, younger than the first two, a thickly-muscled man with a lantern jaw and clear blue eyes, and a blue-haired woman with an imperious manner.

“Hey Faith, Xander,” the group’s apparent leader nodded at the couple. “I’m Angel, this is Spike, Connor, my son, Groo, and Illyria.”

“Oh come on!” Dean let out a plaintive cry as the new group had barely finished introducing themselves when another group teleported in, this one consisting of a grey-haired man a few years older than Bobby and four babes ranging in age from their mid-twenties to early-thirties. “More people?” If he was really lucky, his head would stop spinning.

Dean watched with interest as the group’s red head hurried next to the middle-aged man while the other three women took up protective positions. “Good gracious,” the obvious Englishman looked around, “where are we-, Xander, Faith, Angel, how did we get here?”

“We only got here ourselves, Giles,” the man called Angel replied.

“Not on Earth anymore,” Faith pointed to the daylight sky, “otherwise Angel and Spike go woosh.”

“Yes quite,” the man called Giles looked up. “And the sun is a little orangey for ours.”

“Hey dude, who in the hell are you?” Dean snapped, his never-long patience frayed utterly away.

The older man smiled. “I am Rupert Giles, this is Willow Rosenberg-.”

“Oh balls.” Dean glanced at Bobby. Clearly his mentor recognised the newcomers too.

“And these fine young ladies are Kennedy, Violet, and Rona,” Giles continued. The Englishman looked towards the thickly-muscled black. “Blade, it is a pleasure to see you again.” The Englishman glanced around the now crowded clearing. “Given the people I recognise here, I assume we all have certain skills and abilities in common?”

“And how about you tell us just what those skills are?” Bobby challenged.

Giles smiled at their mentor. “And you are?”

“These idjits are Dean and Sam Winchester, I’m Bobby Singer-.”

“Ah!” Giles’ eyes widened in recognition. “Bobby Singer, I’ve heard of your quite infamous library! And the Winchester boys, you were on my list of potential recruits-.”

“Recruits for what exactly?” Dean interrupted.

Giles’ chest seemed to expand slightly and he appeared to grow a couple of inches. “I run an organisation called The International Slayers Council-.”

“Yes I’ve heard of you,” Bobby nodded. “Vampire hunters, I assume these lasses are some of your Slayers?”

“Apart from Willow who is a witch, yes, Faith is one too. Speaking of which,” Giles glanced at the brunette, brow creasing, “just what were you and Xander doing before you were teleported here? No,” the Englishman coloured as belated realisation hit and he shook his head, “never mind, don’t want to know.”

“And I,” Dean blinked as a powerfully-built blonde close in height to his brother suddenly materialised in, “am Ms. Gard, an employee of Monoc Securities.”

“Monoc Securities?” Giles beamed. “Wonderful, if I may have a moment of your time ma’am, I’ve been trying to secure a meeting with your company’s owner for some time-.”

The introductions continued for some time, confirming Giles’ guess that they were all bad-asses. And he was more than a little worried when he realised that there were several vampires, souls or no souls, a hell-god, and a suck-you-bitch amongst their number. “Now we’re all familiar with one another,” Duncan commented, both he and Jarod taking some convincing before they believed in the supernatural, “I suggest we familiarise ourselves with where we are?”

“And get some clothes,” Faith muttered.

“I would suggest we look for the nearest road then follow it to the nearest town,” Jarod sniffed then continued, “given the lack of noticeable pollutants I’m smelling, I would suggest that we’re in a pre-industrial world.”

Angel and Spike exchanged looks. “We hadn’t noticed, but he’s right,” Angel confirmed. “At least about the lack of pollution in the air.”

“How about some of us climb up some trees and see if we can see any roads, traffic, houses, or smoke from chimneys?” Faith suggested. “Or at least a way outta this damn forest?”

“An excellent idea,” Giles praised. “Some of the super-powered folk in each direction I think.” The Englishman let out a rueful chuckle. “I rather think some of these trees are rather high for us mere mortals to risk ourselves clambering up.”

In seconds the vampires, dhampirs, and Slayers amongst their number had disappeared up the trees with a speed that only confirmed their supernatural abilities. “I’ve got something!” Connor let out a yell. “A track to the east, and over some hills, some smoke!”

“Excellent, we have a direction,” Giles beamed. “And perhaps even a destination. We’ll have to travel parallel to but off the road to avoid being seen, but I imagine it shouldn’t be too difficult. And the time could be best used to familiarise ourselves with one another, our skills, experiences and such.”

“And when we get there, what then?” Bobby demanded.

“I would suggest we infiltrate the town itself, try and find out just what the political situation is, the level of technology,” Giles replied.

“And get me some clothes,” Faith added.

Giles smirked. “Come now then, let’s not be hasty.”

Faith glared at the Englishman. “Funny English, don’t forget I’m a married woman now,”

Dean looked towards the one-eyed man. “Congratulations.” He paused thoughtfully. “And condolences.”

“Funny bastard.”

A\N:-

Okay here comes the disclaimer and cast list.

Xander, Faith, Willow, Giles, Angel, Spike, Connor, Groo, Illyria, Kennedy, Rona, and Vi all belong to Mutant Enemy.
Bobby Singer and those two idjits the Winchester boys belong to Supernatural.
Blade, Elektra, and Shang-Chi belong to Marvel.
Duncan MacLeod and Amanda belong to Highlander.
Bo Jones is the succubus of the Lost Girl show.
Jarod is the Pretender.
Ms. Gard is Johnny Marcone’s bodyguard in The Dresden Files.
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