Disclaimer: I own nothing.
I don't own Buffy. I don't own Highlander. This is just for amusement.
This is Yet Another Halloween Fic. Or it's implied.
Travers, head of the Watcher's Council, was enjoying the end of his evening. Soon Buffy Summers would turn eighteen and have to take the test. Hopefully, she would fail. It would be a thorn out of the council side and if he could arrange it, so would the other Slayer. Neither one of them was good enough to carry on the Slayer's legacy.
"Who on earth would be calling at this time of night?" He grumbled reaching forth phone. He reached across his desk and picked up the phone. Tersely, he answered, "Travers."
"Hello, Mr. Travers," an american accent casually floated into his ear. California if he hazarded a guess. "This is Xander Harris. I have been needing to talk to you about something...of great importance."
"Xander Harris?" He knew of the boy from the tabs they kept on the Slayer and her group, but why and how did he managed to contanct him was the question. Travers regained his wits, he did not have time to deal with this child. "You listen here, boy, I don't know--"
His threat was cut off by a cold, contempt snarling voice. "No, you listen, Mr. Travers. If you so much as think of stepping for or setting up your test for Buffy, if you so much as touch a hair on my girl's head, you will be very, very
"How did you--how dare you threat--" Travers couldn't figure out what to spew out first. Rupert had to be the one to tell him, there was no other way he could have possible known. Travers gritted his teeth, "As if the council have something to fear from a boy."
Harris let out a dark chuckle that made Travers wonder if the contact information that he had got on Harris was wrong. That chuckle did not belong to a 'man child'. It belong to something sinister and dark. Harris then asked, "Does the name Methos mean anything to you?"
Travers felt the air knocked out of him. His knuckles turned white as he clutched the telephone, fear spiking in blood, and his heart began to beat faster. Harris came over the phone with dark chuckle, "Judging by your silence, I see that it does. I repeat my warning one last time, don't hurt my girl or I will tear your council apart..." Travers chest heaved with painstaking breath as Harris drew out the threat in a silkly voice, "Piece by piece
The phone clicked as Harris hung up. Travers grabbed his chest as horrible pain spiked through it. He was found the next morning by his bulter, barely alive saying on one sentence.
Death was back.
I don't know why I felt compelled to write this one shot. I doubt I'll ever get around to writing a full length story, but the plot bunny got me.
RRs are appreciated.