Spoilers: Post Chosen, anytime in NCIS
Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy nor NCIS, nor do I know anyone who does. Buffy belongs to Joss and NCIS to CBS. No copyright infringement intended. No money made.
AN: I read the random challenges on the home page and when one strikes my fancy I save it on my jump drive for when other stories are being stubborn . . . like now.
Challenge Issuer: IndraLeigh
Challenge Name: Sidekicks to the rescue
Challenge # 744
Challenge Description: We always see the sidekicks getting into trouble, then the heroes have to rescue them. My challenge is for a sidekick from Buffy and an another show of your choice work together to save the day. For some reason the big bad has trapped the heroes and the sidekicks prove that they too can be the rescuers when needed.
I would enjoy a "The Sentinel" or a sidekick from any of the Superman universes on TV or movie. Oh, don't forget NCIS, Tony as the hero for Gibbs.
Must have the sidekicks meet for the first time when they find out that the usual heroes have been captured. Giles or the Giles-type character complaining about their charges running off half cocked to save the day.
When the sidekicks are freeing the prisoners, have them mock the people they are saving.
Minimum length: more than a Drabble, but no maximum length. Challenge Date 16 Jan 05
The girl slid down the side of the wall again. The mostly-dried well was just too deep to jump out of and there were too few hand/foot holds to climb out. She banged her head against the stone. “Damn, damn, damn, damn.” Finally she calmed down enough to look Gibbs’ way. “Do you have any ideas? There’s enough mud down here to destroy my new shoes.” She admired them briefly. “I’ll have to buy another pair.”
He glared. “You were the one to overload the electrical tower which started the structural fire. And you were the one who pushed us down here. I landed on my phone. It won’t work.”
“Hey,” The blonde put her hands on her hips. “I killed the bad guys, didn’t I? And I kept us alive from all the spark-age and from the fall down here. And I knew better than to shoot at the demons with a gun, unlike someone I could mention.”
Gibbs didn’t deign to answer. “My team will be missing me and come looking. Or the hostage will go to the cops.”
Buffy snorted. “You’re kidding, right? That girl probably convinced herself it was all a bad dream before she got off the property. My guess is that she went straight home . . . locked the door, took a shower and collapsed into bed. By tomorrow, she’ll only have some vague recollections of nightmares with purple demons and a lot of blood. And electricity,” she finished with a satisfied grin. “Lots of electricity. You were damn lucky that I knew what the nasties were and how to kill them.”
“What . . . species were they?”
“Haven’t the faintest. But I knew how to kill them.” She observed the fading light. “Andrew was supposed to meet me at the coffeehouse. He’ll call Willow. Willow will get us out in two jiffs. Or someone will come investigate why part of the countryside lost power.”
“Is Andrew your boyfriend?” Gibbs asked snidely. He had too many bruises from the fall to be nice.
Buffy’s face froze in shock. She looked torn between horror and hilarity. Her sense of humor won out. She nearly bent double with laughter.
The thin boy juggled the books and laptop unsuccessfully. He was in the middle of the sidewalk, barely two steps from his rental car and he was late. Gravity would soon win and he’d lose everything to the ground. Buffy was rarely patient and he was really late. Finally he made a decision and hoped that Giles would forgive him. He grabbed a hold of the computer and let the books fall to the muddy ground. Of course, one of the really old ones landed right into a mud puddle. “Sith, sith, sith, sith.” Since the deed was done, Andrew bent over to pick everything up. He held the wet book by one corner and examined the damage. “Kriffing girls and their Kriffing pre-slay coffee.” He looked through the window of the coffeehouse. He didn’t see Buffy and if Buffy had seen him damage one of Giles’ books she would have been out here berating him in a second.
So that was of the good. Buffy was late.
Except . . . so where was Buffy? Had she ditched him again?
That was of the bad.
Then the electricity for the block went down.
“Now what?” Andrew complained. “She wouldn’t have started the fight without me, would she?” Of course, she would. The sudden loss of electricity couldn’t be a coincidence. Buffy slaying and destruction of property seemed to be synonymous these days.
Andrew loaded his arms to put it all back into the car. Buffy wouldn’t need the research now. He had just been trying to impress her with his knowledge for the meeting. He exchanged the books and the laptop for a gym bag full of weapons.
And collapsed to the ground with its weight.
Slayers shouldn’t be allowed to fill weapon bags, he decided.
He took a deep breath and gave himself a quick pep talk. “You can do this, Andrew. Just use the Force.”
“So let me get this straight,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Some person said that they had heard screaming from the abandoned barn on the south side of town two nights in a row.”
Andrew looked under the car and saw three sets of feet. Two were encased nice shoes but the third pair had on ratty, dirty hiking boots.
“Thatz right,” a voice answered the first. He spit onto the ground to emphasis his point. “Kids be always using that barn for pranks. No need for such con-cern from cops an’ such.” Andrew had thought that chew was a pretty cool habit until three slayers had threatened to rip off his arms if he dared to spit tobacco in their presence. Buffy had threatened to rip out his tongue and punch out his teeth.
So now Andrew curled his lips in distaste at the spit on the ground. That didn’t mean that he’d stop eavesdropping. This sounded like a reason for Buffy to ditch him.
“And Gibbs questioned the guy and then went off to investigate?” the first man asked.
“So Jethro,” a British accented voice spoke softly.
“Thatz right,” the informant confirmed.
“Could you please give me directions to this barn?”
The informant turned south, probably to point. “Out of town on Main Street. ‘Bout two miles past the city limits is a road. It ain’t paved real good. Follow it east for oh . . . 5 miles or so. You ca’ see the barn from the road.”
“Thank you sir,” the Brit remembered his manners if the other man didn’t. “So like him: our case is solved so he went off alone looking for a new one.”
“Welcome.” The old man spit again. “He ain’t alone.”
“Some girl followed him out. A purty little thing. Probably went to tell your friend that it was one of her friend’s pranks.”
“And how long have they been gone?” the first man asked.
A brief pause. “Not long. I figured yur friend, he got lucky.”
Andrew nearly coughed at the insinuation. Buffy? Make out with a guy the first time they meet? Never! Faith? Now that was a different story. If Buffy hadn’t returned by now than she was in trouble. He would have to go help her.
Andrew breathed in deep and with his legs lifted up the weapons bag. He got half of it into the trunk and, after minimal squawking, slid the second half of the bag into the trunk. He slammed the trunk closed. There, that was satisfying.
All three men had watched him struggle with his burden. They were just turning back to their conversation when Andrew popped up beside them. “Is the barn near the main electrical wires?” he asked.
The informer glared at Andrew, but nodded once. “Yeah.” He looked up at the dark street, void of all normal lights.
Andrew smiled at the dirty, stinky man. Much more than he deserved. “Thank you.” He looked at the other two. These two were professionals. They both wore a windbreaker that declared them ‘NCIS.’ Whatever that was. He could investigate that after he saved Buffy. “I think the girl that followed your friend is my friend.” He motioned to the rental car. “I’m going that way anyway if one . . . or both of you want a ride.”
“I think not,” said the Briton.
“I’ll come,” said the younger.
“Tony . . .” Andrew knew that warning tone of voice very well. Most people used it on him within two minutes of a conversation.
Tony shook it off. “I’m going, Ducky. Gibbs wouldn’t have turned off his phone. We’re getting shunted straight to voice mail. He’s in trouble.”
“Do try to keep an eye on your surroundings,” Ducky (what kind of name was Ducky anyway, Andrew wondered) chided. “Jethro could very well be in control of the situation. Don’t do anything . . . half-cocked.”
“Don’t worry so much, Ducky.” With a final wave goodbye, Tony jogged over to the passenger side of the car.
Andrew opened his side and unlocked all the doors. Tony slid into the car and was soon buckling his seatbelt.
“Do you think they’re in bad trouble,” Andrew asked.
Tony nodded decisively. “Yes.”
“So do I,” Andrew agreed. He pulled onto the street and headed south out of town. “I’m feeling like the Ewoks saving Han Solo and Leia Organa, or maybe a red shirt saving Captain Kirk. Though a red shirt never truly saved Captain Kirk in a way that he couldn’t save himself . . .” He paused for breath and snuck a peak at the man beside him.
Tony threw his head back and laughed. “You’re weird but you’re wrong. This is more like The Duke boys saving their Uncle Jesse.”
Andrew grinned. “Nah. Buffy, that’s my friend, she drives more like the Duke boys more than I do, more than most people, I expect.”
“With a name like Buffy, I think I’d expect her to have road rage,” Tony replied.
“Just don’t tell her that to her face,” Andrew warned.
“She pretty?” Tony asked hopefully. Suddenly he pointed left. “I think that’s the road.”
Andrew turned onto the road and promptly hit the breaks to avoid bottoming out in the first pothole. He slowed the car to a crawl.
Tony shook his head. “You sure don’t drive like a Duke.”
“I told you.”
“Why don’t you pull over and let me drive.”
“It’s a rental.”
“If I lose the deposit Buffy and Giles will kill me.”
“And if your friend Buffy’s dead or dying?”
Andrew set his jaw forcefully. “Buffy stays dead like Jean Grey.”
Tony was confused, but decided to ignore the odd comment. “Has it been five miles yet?”
Andrew glanced down at the speedometer. “Yes. Just.”
“I haven’t seen any barns recently.”
“Country mile, maybe?” Andrew offered.
Tony snorted. “Whatever that means.”
Andrew caught sight of the gray smoke up ahead. “It’s just over the next hill.”
“I thought that you were a stranger around these parts,” the agent was suddenly suspicious.
Andrew gestured wildly at the smoke, which was much more visible now that they could see into the next valley. “Buffy likes fires.” The burning barn was right there, a little too close to the high voltage electrical wires. The metal frame of the electrical tower had been bent beyond any simple fix-it job.
“A Duke slidin’ pyro.” Tony considered. “But is she pretty?”
“She can break every bone in your body without breaking a sweat.” Andrew parked the car as near to the barn as he dared. Someone would have to call the fire department soon to make sure the blaze didn’t extend to the grass and then the trees surrounding the area. He glanced around the ground. Purple goo but no blood. So where was the Slayer? “BUFFY!”
Tony winced at the volume.
“ANDREW!” a voice called back.
The slight man sprinted over the hill toward the voice. Tony kept right on his heels.
“SLOW DOWN!” the voice ordered.
Andrew stopped dead in his tracks and looked around carefully with his feet firmly planted in place. Tony thought that the sight was rather comical. “Buffy?”
“If you fall down here with us, I’ll never let you come on a trip again,” Buffy threatened.
Tony grinned. This Buffy-girl was a bossy lady. He wondered how Gibbs put up with her. Where was Gibbs? And Buffy? Obviously within hearing distance but out of sight.
“Where are you?” Andrew asked.
“We’re stuck in a well to your left.”
We? Tony was suddenly very interested. “Gibbs!”
“DiNozzo!” came the answer. “Get us out of here. Now!”
Tony looked around carefully. The barn was up in smoke. He didn’t see anything lying on the ground that could be useful.
Andrew knelt by a dirt knoll a hundred yards further down the hill. Tony stepped to his side. Thirty feet down in a wet, dirty hole, Gibbs and a pretty, petite blonde looked back up at their rescuers. Even covered with mud, Buffy was a knockout. Unfortunately she wasn’t noticing him the same way.
“Andrew,” she ground out. “There’s a whip in the gym bag. Get it.”
Andrew was off like a shot. Tony was surprised at his speed, but figured that there was no way that the younger man could keep it up for any period of time, especially not up and down the hill.
“Hiya Gibbs,” Tony cheerily greeted his boss. “How did you two end up down there?”
Gibbs opened his mouth but Buffy was the one to answer. “I tripped on a rock and stumbled into him. It was a big whoopsie.”
Tony grinned bigger. “Gibbs had a ‘whoopsie’?”
“No,” the girl glared. “I had the whoopsie and kinda-sorta pushed him into the well.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have enough weight to push Gibbs anywhere.”
Buffy put her hands on her hips. “Don’t call me sweetheart. And I can push anyone, anytime.”
“Really,” Tony drawled.
Andrew came back huffing and puffing, with a long black leather whip in his hands. “Isn’t this your birthday present from your ex-boyfriend? I know it’s not standard issue.”
“Andrew,” Buffy warned.
“It looks like it, unless you have more than one leather whip.”
“Andrew! Shut up and hand the whip over to Mr. Chatty.”
“My name is Tony,” the agent said conversationally as he accepted the whip. “And leather makes for good birthday presents? Didja catch that, Gibbs? I’m sure Abby can tell you where the best places to buy leather is for Buffy’s next birthday.”
Despite his teasing, Tony was wrapping the end of the whip around his hand and bracing his feet. He dangled the handle of the whip into the well. Buffy took a step back and then a step forwards and leapt high into the air. She caught the whip handle. The whip bit into Tony’s hand at her momentum, but he stood firm as she shimmied up the length.
She was on her feet beside him before he could lean over to help. She took a step back and glared at Andrew. “Where’s your back-up?” When Andrew shook his head, Buffy clipped him upside the head. “You’re by yourself?”
“You’re welcome,” Tony muttered.
Buffy pretended that she hadn’t heard him. “Where’s the incense?”
Incense? Tony would worry about that later. He had a stuck boss to worry about now. He lowered the whip back down the well. He had to lay on his stomach to get the handle close enough for Gibbs to reach it. “I think you need to play more basketball,” Tony advised.
Gibbs stayed stonily silent and Tony gulped. Gibbs climbed up the whip. Tony heard the ‘flick’ of a cigarette lighter and smelled the incense. Why incense? Gibbs was at the rim of the well now and, with minimal physical effort, Tony assisted Gibbs onto solid ground. He wrapped up the whip to hand it back to Buffy but when he turned around, no one was there.
“What the hell!” Tony whirled in place. He could see neither Buffy nor Andrew. He whirled around again. This time, Gibbs yanked him away from the well.
“If you fall in, I’m not getting you out,” the Marine threatened.
Tony took the warning to heart and took the two steps away from the hole in the ground. He heard an engine starting up and sprinted up the hill toward Andrew’s rental car. Gibbs and he topped the hill just in time to watch the car disappear down the road in a cloud of dust. “She does drive like the Duke boys.”
“Tell me you have contact information on Andrew,” Gibbs ordered.
Tony looked at Gibbs askance. “I’m not the one who was stuck in a well for how long with a pretty girl? And you didn’t get the girl’s phone number?”
Gibbs clipped Tony.
“Ouch! Thanks boss.”
Gibbs held his hand out. “Phone.”
Tony instantly handed Gibbs his cell phone. Gibbs took one last look at the dust on the dirt road and muttered, “Well, I’ll never run into her again.”
Tony waited until Gibbs was busy calling the fire department and arranging for a ride out of the countryside before commenting. “You hope.” He admired the well-crafted whip in his hands. “Hopefully, I can keep this.”