What's Mine Is Yours, What's Yours Is Mine
A/N: Ha'ptesh demon...my idea. Its blood is orange but turns clear once it comes in contact with anything. If absorbed into the skin of human, animal or demon it turns into a sort of homing beacon if used in locating spells. Just imagine a yellow Orc (from Lord of the Rings) with eyes the size of goblins.
Jeremiah and his father are from a special member of the Watcher's Council. He's 20 y.o. Just imagine Wesley during the last episodes of Angel, hot dang he's one hot hunk! They come from a line of Sorcerers, Mages, Witches and Wizards.
I added another character her name is Marianne Pensworth. She plays a minor role but nevertheless she plays an important part to where this story is headed.
What's Mine Is Yours, What's Yours Is Mine
A black van pulled out in front of an abandoned airport in the outskirts of L.A. A woman dressed in what one can only call traditional "Shamanic" attire stepped out of the van and stood in front of the worn out gates of the airport. There, she raised her hands, palms up towards the sky and brought her hands slowly down, removing the cloaking spell around one of the abandoned hangers. In its place now stood a large manor, the strong vibes of magic heavily guarding the manor was present and sent shivers down the spines of those inside the van.
Quentin Travers sat in his office watching the prisoners through the monitors, but the van making its way up the manor's driveway caught his attention. The cargo inside that van was their last remaining link to Buffy Summers and the souled vampire, Angel. The one who almost got away, if only they knew...
A few hours earlier...
"You sure this will work?"
"I said I had an idea, I didn't say I was sure this would work."
"Okay, let's say I did get in, how the hell can I trust you to get us all out?"
Jeremiah fought the urge to roll his eyes as he steadied his shaking hand while smearing Ha'ptesh demon blood on Cordelia's wrist.
Cordelia grimaced at the feel of the sticky demon blood on her wrist and hoped that it didn't leave a skunk-y type after-smell.
"Okay now let's go through the plan one more time just to be sure."
"Have I mentioned how much I'm not liking you right now?"
"More than three times in the last five minutes," sighed Jeremiah.
"Okay, just making that loud and clear."
Cordelia rolled her eyes at the blue eyed brunette and sighed, "I get myself kidnapped by the many men in tweed, hopefully to be placed along with your godfather, give him your message, locate the others and you come in crossbows a-blazin' with back-up and we all high-tail on out of there. That about sum it up 007?"
Jeremiah sputtered, "This is no time for taunts and the like Miss Chase, you should be grateful that I was able to cast a time-delay spell outside here the other Watcher's were searching for you or else we would be in deeper waters."
Cordelia raised her eyebrow. "Do any of you Watcher's learn to swear at all? I swear it's like Sunday school all over again. Well? Are we going to do this or not?"
Jeremiah turned around and walked away from Cordelia, placing one vial of Ha'ptesh demon blood in his pocket and removed the silencing spell around the library, knowing that the Watcher's would be back for Miss Chase.
Cordelia hid behind a few stacks of books as she watched Jeremiah leave. She prayed to the Gods and Goddesses that she would not regret trusting him.
A flash of light outside the library doors indicated Jeremiah had cast an invisibility charm on himself. It didn't take long for her to wait for the Special Ops team of the Watcher's Council to find Cordelia, knock her out and take her to the holding cell where their other captives were being held.
Meanwhile, in the library, Jeremiah Lewis had conjured a portal back to England where his own assembled crew of rogue Watcher's, Magic Wielders and Seers who were currently on the World's Most Wanted list, no thanks to the Watcher's Council awaited for his signal.
Kyla was finally able to regain her strength, although she had not been as able as she was to transform for long periods of time, she was able to take down a few muggers and took the next flight to Metropolis. The blood of her people was calling to her, something big was going to happen in Smallville and she was sure it had something to do with a certain blonde haired girl and her destiny.
"Numan is mine Golden Phoenix, I will be his queen," she muttered to herself as she waited for her journey to end. The war had begun and now it was time for Kyla to heed the calling of her people and lead them to fight the battle over what was rightfully hers.
The silence in the Kent Household was disrupted by a piercing scream.
Clark bolted up to his room and nearly broke down the door when he yanked it open. There in the middle of the bed, Buffy was fighting invisible forces; tears streaming down her face and another scream tore from her mouth.
"Get away from them!"
Giles and Joyce were staring at her with pleading looks in their eyes, beside them on the floor, her father had already died from blood loss with Willow, Oz, Xander and Cordelia struggling with their bonds as their blood slowly drained onto the floor. And there in the middle of the circle lay her sister slayer, Faith the last sacrifice. Her eyes held no fear, ever resistant til the very end.
Buffy was pounding against the invisible shield, throwing herself against it, kicking and punching, doing all she can to penetrated the shield. But she watched helplessly as her friends and her mother died right before her eyes.
Their blood pooled around Faith's cold body, enveloping her in the sticky red liquid, her body seemed to sink in the ground.
A figure rose from the pool of blood, a face she knew all too well. One she had thought she would never see again. The demon with the face of an angel.
"Angel?" Her heart shattered into a million pieces as she saw her dead lover sneer as he licked the blood from his hands.
"Angel?" Buffy shot up from the bed, tears blurring her vision but the unmistakable firm hands of Clark wrapped around her shaking form released a dam of emotions that she had bottled up since Angel first lost his soul.
Martha and Jonathan Kent came rushing to their sons bedroom only to stop at the sight of a blonde girl crying like there she had nothing to live for and their son rocking her back and forth as he stroked her hair and murmured comforting words in her ears.
"It's just a dream, shh. It'll be okay. I won't let them hurt you. I won't let him hurt you."
Martha and Jonathan both left quietly and returned to their rooms. Leaving Clark to comfort a still shaking Buffy.
"Just a dream. Just a dream," she whispered to herself as she allowed the calming effects of Clark's strokes to take over. Once Buffy had calmed down Clark was about to get up but Buffy held on to him and forced him to look into her eyes, "Please stay, I don't want to be alone."
Clark nodded mutely as Buffy moved to make room for him on his bed. Clark wrapped his arms around her as she settled her head against his chest. "Thank you for staying."
Clark just stayed silent, relishing in the feel of Buffy in his arms. A few minutes later, he listened to her steady breathing, indicating she had fallen asleep. He looked down and upon seeing the calming peace upon her face he sighed, "You'll never be alone, not anymore."
Somewhere else in Smallville, Joseph Willowbrook lay quietly in his bed, dreaming of Numan and a blonde girl with the brightest, greenest eyes he had ever seen. The gold and red flames of a phoenix surrounded her. He saw his granddaughter Kyla, the spirits of their ancestors surrounded her aura but something much darker was creeping up slowly and choking the spirits of his ancestors.
What puzzled him though, was that the blonde girl looked so much like another he had met once upon a time when he worked for a ranch farmer in Texas. She too had hair as bright as the sun and eyes as green as the greenest grass. Her name was Marianne Pensworth. Last he heard of her was when she moved to California with her family, leaving Joseph to return to Smallville. Joseph would never forget his first love, his first everything.
A/N: Sorry for the short chapter I'm working on my other stories. So please, pretty please don't get mad.