The writer falls to the ground painfully, as he is orbed into wherever the heck he’s been taken too this time. Looking around he sees a woman with pale white skin, and dark hair, that was angrily scowling at him. “Let me guess, your mad cause your not in this story right?”
“Well you thought right.” Paige Matthews said, glaring at the writer. “So my name came up on the list to be the one to make sure that you do the right thing in legal stuff, and if you don’t I can always send you to the underworld a few times. You know, every time your about to die I could pull you back here. Or I can always use the crystals to create some kind of torture device.”
“I don’t know whether or not I should be worried, that there’s obviously a list of characters that are just waiting to torture me.” The Texan drawls, as he scrambles to his feet.
“Oh you should be worried. Crystals!” The half white lighter said, waving her hands and the crystals surrounded the writer in a pentagram.
“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to talk about this.”
“You know the rules of this game.” Paige said smiling darkly, as she placed the last crystal down. As soon as the crystal was in place magical energy began attacking the writer. The Texan screamed in pain, as the power struck him knocking him back down to the ground. Paige looked a bit smug, as she removed the crystal from the formation.
“Fine. The writer said panting, as he pulled himself back up. “I the texaswookie, do not own any of the various universes, realities, or whatever you wanna call them that are in this story. If you need to know who owns the realities check some of the earlier chapters. And the chapter where the Supernatural cast is first introduced. Happy?” The writer enquires of the witch.
“No.” The witch replied sulkily. “This is all I get to do for this story.” Paige said, as she waved her hands, and the writer disappeared in a sparkle of lights.
Buffy looked at the group of people behind her, and realized that her original plan of just breaking into a random house for the night wasn’t really going to work anymore. Unfortunately, there weren’t a whole lot of places they could go that were big enough for a group of this size either. She sighed tiredly; she guessed tonight was just her night for checking out old haunts. Shaking her head, she led them to the snob district of the demon world, as Xander had once referred to this side of town. Fortunately it was close to the graveyard. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a man who, for some idiotic reason, was still here. He watched them walk past, his shotgun following after them; then, as if the sight of them was the last straw for him, he ran for the car that sat in front of his house and drove off with a squeal of tires. She finally led them to a large house that had some of her earliest, and greatest, Sunnydale memories.
“Nice place ya got here,” the kid who had introduced himself as Bobby said, as he warily looked at the old mansion. “It yours?”
Buffy smiled at the thought of her owning something like this. “It belongs to an ex-boyfriend,” she explained, as she led them into the courtyard of Angel’s old mansion. Walking with confidence, she got to the door, and picked up the hidden key and turned it. She gestured them all inside, before she shut the door behind her. She couldn’t help the sad smile that she wore, as she looked around her. It was exactly the same as it was the last time that she was here.
“Wasn’t much on furniture, was he?” Ron asked, as he looked at the couch and chairs that sat there.
Buffy remembered trying to read Angel’s mind there that one time, but she didn’t have time for memories right now; she had to concentrate on the here and now. “He wasn’t really big on the whole social thing.”
“You do remember reading the part about the vampire with a soul right?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah, had a girl’s name, and someone shoot me,” Ron said, comprehension dawning on his face, as he realized the stupidity of his comments. His two friends rolled their eyes in exasperation, as if used to these sorts of foot in mouth syndrome from him.
A few others had grins on their faces, as they tried to hide their amusement. “Why don’t you go and rest for a moment, Miss Summers.” Xavier said suggested, as his chair settled to the ground courtesy of Hermione’s spell work. You look like you could use a few minutes on the bed.”
The young woman nodded, and retreated to a bedroom to give herself a moment to regain her self-control.
“Professor?” Alex asked
“Something unexpected has happened, and has thrown her completely off balance. She needs a moment to get herself back in control, before we decide how we’re going to deal with the crisis that is coming.”
“What do you think happened?” Colossus asked.
“Why don’t we wait a few minutes, and perhaps she can tell us. Why don’t you young ones check the place out?” Xavier ordered. “Search for any kind of trouble on both the inside and out. We will call you when Buffy comes back around.”
“Yes Professor.” Kitty and Rogue said, as they led their team out of the room to do a perimeter check.
Shrugging their shoulders, the magic users trailed after them. The dark haired teen stopped, and turned to look at them. “If you plan on us not fighting, then you’re mental. Not fighting cost us our teacher, we won’t make that mistake again.”
“No, Harry, that is not it. We actually do need to make the place secure, and there are a few matters that don’t need your input since they have to do with how we fight.”
“Something to do with those energy beams of yours, that you did without using a wand?” he asked curiously.
“Hmm, I would have sworn those were magic beams of some kind.”
“There is more to our abilities than that, my boy. And right now, we need to discuss a few things, and it would take time to explain all of the terms to you.”
“All right, if you say so,” Harry replied hesitantly, as he followed after the others.
“Seems like a fairly good kid,” Cyclops commented, “though he seems to be pretty cautious, too.”
“Yes, he does, but he also seems to have been put through a few emotional trials,” Storm said, making her own observations. “His eyes are much too sad to belong to any other kind of person. It makes me wonder what it is that gives him such a sad soul,” the weather witch mused. “His soul sings a lot like Rogue’s.”
“So? The kid’s used tah standin’ on his own.” Logan said, as he stabbed an overhead smoke detector, before it decided to assault his ears over the cigar in his mouth. “Seems like the kind you want to be level with. Unless you want him to hide things from you, that is.”
“I believe that you are all accurate in your assessments, of our young, bespectacled unknown collaborator,” Beast said, as he took the floor. “And now that that is finished. I assume that we can take a few moments to look at something? As you may or may not know, with the collective technological skills of our very own dear Shadowcat, the knowledgably gifted Doug Ramsey, Professor, and myself, we have managed to create the mini-Cerebro.” Beast stated proudly. He pulled a handheld device out of his jacket to display whatever it was he was talking about to them.
“That’s nice, but I thought that the amount of power required for Cerebro was too great for something of that size?” Storm noted.
“Well, if it were like the primary Cerebro, it would be. While the main Cerebro detects and identifies any and all mutants, and allows for a telepath to communicate with them anywhere on the planet, as you hinted, it is much too big and bulky to carry, say, on the Blackbird. On the other hand, we can use these wonderful little Mini-Cerebros to scan for particular types of mutant genetic coding. It is capable of detecting only one or two specific kinds of genetic coding, in a small area; nothing more or less, unfortunately. Though, on a side note, its range is greatly increased if we have an actual blood sample from which to search for a target,” Beast said happily, as he finished displaying his new “toy”.
“Can the science talk, blue boy, and explain to me what it does,” Wolverine grumbled. “Not all of us have all of those college degrees like you do.”
“It finds mutants in the area.” Xavier explained, “But only if they match a certain mutant genetic power signature.”
“So what’s that got to do with us here?”
“Well, you do recollect Xavier and myself being quite skeptic on the existence of vampires, and other such supernatural things, correct? How we theorized, that it was far more probable that we were dealing with some sort of mutant turf war that had gotten out of proportion.”
“Yeah, you were wrong, we were right.”
“Well, this particular mini-Cerebro scans for enhanced reflexes, strength, healing and those sorts of items. That might have appeased our egos.”
“In other words, it looks for mutants that just seem like enhanced humans or something, right?” Alex asked.
“Yes, well, it seems that the Professor and I were erroneous to doubt Wolverine and Nightcrawler in this matter. Particularly, since no one but us has show any traces of the mutant X factor, regardless of the fact that we’ve seen people camouflage themselves, command a winged horse that only particular individuals can see, and show a form of telekinesis using nothing but a stick. In some ways, they actually defy the laws of science!”
“So, we were right and you were wrong. Is that what yer saying, McCoy?” Logan asked smugly.
“Yes.” Hank said hanging his head in defeat, he hated being proven wrong, but in this case the supernatural aspects of the world were slapping him in the face, and he doubted that they were done showing themselves. For all he knew, they were just starting to show themselves to him.
“Professor, we got company!” Rogue’s voice shouted.
The group got up to meet whoever it was that was there, and were surprised by the Billy Idol double that walked in. The man didn’t even blink as he looked at them. “Where’s the Slayer?” he asked angrily. “I swear, if you’ve hurt her...”
“You’ll, what?” Wolverine growled from where he was standing. “Whine like a baby? I don’t have time to listen to you and your crap, Spike.”
The vampire blinked in surprise, his mouth hanging open in shock. “I thought I killed you,” Spike said slowly, stunned to see Logan standing there.
“Not from lack of trying, bub. Getting pushed off that bridge hurt.”
“Logan, now is not the time to start a fight, at least not with a potential ally,” Xavier said, as he came between the men.
“Oh bugger, for God’s sake, I’m not interested in any of those end of the world schemes that you might have. In case you forgot to read the memo, I’m a good vampire now. In other words, I’m not interested in what you’re peddling.”
“Actually, I was hoping you could help Miss Summers. She does have a war to fight, and we’ll be more than happy to help her if she can wake up.”
“What did you lot do to her?” The vampire snarled, looming over the man in a wheelchair.
“Nothing, except watch her beat two of my people up.”
“That’s my Slayer,” the vampire said proudly. “Which room? Never mind I know where she’ll be.” He said, as he walked in and shut the door.
“Well that was interesting was it not, mein freunde? Nightcrawler questioned, as they all watched the figure knowingly head for the room that the Slayer was in
Order of the Phoenix: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and wizardry: Great Hall
Minerva McGonagall stood up from her seat in the Great Hall, and looked down at the assembled witches and wizards gathered around two of the house tables. Many of them had been taught magic within these very halls, and over half of them she could name off of the top of her head. Some, though, were better remembered, or known than others, she thought, as she looked over at the Weasley family. They were all here, all except for Ginny and Ron, of course. Fleur Delacour sat beside Bill, a single shining mass of silver amongst a bobbing sea of red. McGonagall frowned, as she looked at the clock. Remus had yet to show, and it was almost time for them to leave. He had fifteen minutes till he would be too late.
“Everyone get into yer groups!” Moody hollered, seeing the time as well as she did. “And stay vigilant! I don’t want anything to happen to anyone! Is that understood?” There was a mumbled agreement, as people bunched together around the tables. On the tables were Portkeys that would take the teams of people to different parts of the Sunnydale Hellmouth.
Minerva decided that she had to say something for the sake of the various people here, whom were willing to risk their lives for Harry.
Damn Albus for dying on them like that! They needed his calm, soothing presence now more than ever. And damn Harry and his friends for running out on them like they had. Instead of this generation’s hero and last generation’s hero leading them into the fight, they were stuck without any true leader. What’s more, they had to wait to know who the next leader of the Order would be, since Fawkes had yet to choose one, and during these times they truly needed Albus.
Clearing her throat, she looked at the figures that had rearranged themselves. They had only been able to get thirty members to show up for this fight. All things considered, that was quite a feat. “I hope that you have spent the last few days familiarizing yourselves with the information packets that were handed out to you. Unlike during your O.W.L.s, this information could help save your life in just a few hours.” Saying this, Minerva paused to glare knowingly at several of her former graduates. The twins, seeing an opportunity, could not seem to stop themselves, as they stood up and bowed regally before their old Head of House. There were a few chuckles, and an irate Molly ordered them to sit down, but they had eased the tension in the room. “Now then,” McGonagall continued, “in a few minutes your Portkeys will be taking you to the California Hellmouth, where we will be searching for Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger. Once you arrive stay in your groups, since there is no way to tell what exactly it is that we will face once we get there.” She warned looking over some of her more impulsive Order members. “There is a reason that it is called a Hellmouth, people, it is very dangerous and should not be taken lightly.
“Once you find them, try and peacefully hold them. You are then to send out your Patronus, and someone they know and trust will come and talk to them. Do not try and force the issue with them,” Professor McGonagall said sternly, giving all of them a hard stare that had even some of the Aurors shifting uncomfortably. “There is a high probability that they will have joined up with the Slayer by the time we arrive.”
One of the doors to the Great Hall creaked open, and two figures walked through. The two men were met with several wands pointed at them.
“That’s better than some dunderheads.” Moody growled at them. “But none of ya thought to cover the other ways in while you were all waving your wands at those doors! You really think that an attacker is going to come through in such an obvious way?”
Several of the wizards blushed as they placed their wands back into their pockets, though several of them gave Remus mistrustful looks and darkly muttered about what he was. The hateful tone of their comments of “Werewolf... half-breed...Dark Creature” could be heard throughout the Hall. Others looked in curiosity at the man that stood beside him, dressed in Muggle attire.
“Hmm,” the unknown man said, as he surveyed the room with detached interest.
McGonagall strode up to the two of them, glancing with distaste at the Muggle werewolf’s appearance. He wore baggy Muggle jeans with a multitude of pockets; a handful of items were visible sticking out from them. A long-sleeved, button-up shirt had been left open, showing the t-shirt beneath it, which read “Dingoes Ate My Baby”. The man’s short, spiky hair was streaked with blue and gold, with a black streak breaking the other two colors apart. He had pale blue eyes that reminded Minerva strongly of Sirius Black, and a day’s worth of stubble on his face. In one hand, he carried a guitar case covered in stickers from various countries which, she supposed, he had visited. A battered rucksack was slung over one of his shoulders.)
“Remus! Thank Merlin, you’re here. I thought we were going to have to leave without you. Is this the young man that you told us about earlier?”
“Yes, when I explained the situation to him he just picked up his bag and guitar and was ready,” Lupin replied, smiling faintly at her.
“And ready we are.” McGonagall said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man, and I just wish it was more pleasant circumstances that brought us together.”
“Same here,” the American werewolf said, as he adjusted the straps on his bag and walked towards Moody’s group. McGonagall blinked in surprise; she had expected someone a little more outspoken than that. “Has Mr. Lupin explained the situation here?”
The werewolf nodded, as he sat down in an empty chair.
McGonagall was finding the lack of speech to be slightly annoying; she was used to people of this young man’s age answering her, at the very least. She was about to suggest the werewolf try talking, when Remus stepped between them, saying, “Minerva, may I speak with you for a moment?”
Minerva nodded, and Lupin led her nearly to the other end of the Great Hall. She sincerely doubted that the other werewolf would be able to hear their conversation from even half this distance, but decided to humor Remus for now.
Remus looked at her and shook his head in amused disbelief. “Minerva, you and Severus may be the boggart forms of several students who have come through Hogwarts, but that young man over there has faced demons and vampires on a daily basis before today. You just cannot impress him with the old scary teacher bit; it won’t work. And then, of course, there is the fact that he is a high level Lobo Alpha werewolf,” Lupin concluded, looking unforgivably smug.
McGonagall opened her mouth in surprise, and looked at the young man who was calmly chatting with Moody, who seemed to be questioning him; the American werewolf was still giving his two or three-word answers.
‘This young man was a High Alpha level werewolf?’
Remus was a pack wolf, which is why he was so much better when the rest of the Marauders had been around. James Potter, Sirius Black, and, to an extent, even Peter Pettigrew, had all helped keep the inner beast contained. The thing was, though, that pack wolves needed a pack to keep their lunar powers in check and to grow into their powers. Werewolves that didn’t stick with their packs often died insane, unless they had strong wills. Minerva remembered after the Potters had died, and they had carted Black off to Azkaban, that Remus had slowly but surely diminished from what he had once been. He had nearly been a shell of his former self by the time Albus had brought him in to teach after Black had escaped. The fact that he now saw Harry as pack was probably one of the few things that kept him alive these days. He was fading even faster than he had last time, now that Sirius was dead as well.
Lobos, on the other hand, were loners, and grew into their powers better if they were on their own. For a wolf to be a High Level Alpha, he would have to be extremely powerful. Remus was only a Mid Level Alpha, which means that he was probably the equivalent to a statesman of some kind. The only Alpha level that she actually knew of was Fenrir Greyback, and he led through domination and fear. She highly doubted that the young man she had just met would be much of a match for him.
“He looks far too young to be an Alpha, though, Remus, much less a high level,” Minerva protested.
“Considering the age he was when he was turned, it’s even more amazing,” replied Lupin, looking grave.
“He was bitten in his late teens. I believe the report from the Slayer that has bits of the life story of all of her friends mentions him. He’s the musician werewolf that dated the Slayer’s best friend.”
“Yes, small world we live in, eh?” He asked, flashing her one of his rare smiles. “But he is also a person of very few words. He means no disrespect, it is merely his way.”
“Very well,” she said grudgingly.
The two of them then watched as the werewolf began having a conversation with Bill Weasley.
“If everyone is in their groups, we can get going,” Moody growled out, everyone nodded, as they placed their hands on the various items on the tables. Everyone watched as the last few seconds ticked away, and then they all felt a pull behind their navels. As the clock hand touched the twelve they disappeared, leaving Hogwarts in silence, if you didn’t count Peeves’ laughter and Filch’s cursing.
Family already together: Outside Angel’s House
Connor McLeod sat in the shadows, and watched as the various cars and trucks pulled up to his position. He nodded to the Colonel and his people, as they joined the rest of the stragglers. “We all here, finally?” the Immortal asked, as he drifted out of the shadows. The Highlander noted that only Methos, and the men who wore the symbol of Apophis on their foreheads, didn’t seemed startled by his appearance out of nowhere.
The older of the two men with the symbol spoke. “We appear to be all here. Now we have but to go and meet with this kinsman of yours. Hopefully, we will not be seen as attackers; I would hate having to wound one who I will later on call an ally in this great battle that is coming.”
“Amen to the no hurting them policy.” Jack said, as he checked his zat gun over – just in case things did get violent. He left his P-90 as a reserve. “So, campers, are we ready?” He got enough nods to satisfy him, so he set off for the courtyard. They walked through the gate and were met by a group of people dressed in black.
“We help you, bub?” a man with several blades in his hands asked, as he barred the way. Jack was briefly reminded of the Street Fighter games with the really short and quick guy that he lost to a lot. What was that guy’s name again?
“Yeah, we’re looking for a short blonde girl who is supposed to have one hell of a right hook. Believe that she goes by the name Buffy. But she also goes by the handle of Slayer. Maybe you’ve seen her?” Luke asked, as he offered his hand out to the group of people that were prepared to face off against them.
“Sheathe your claws, Logan; I do believe that these people have come all this way to greet their family and assist her in whatever way they can,” a man’s voice called out through the doorway. “Much in the way that we have done.”
“You sure they’re family, Chuck? Some of them look an awful lot like military.” Wolverine said, not liking the fact that he might have to work with soldier boys.
“Yes, Logan, I am quite sure that they are friends. Besides, I don’t think that Hank would like it very much if you tried to cut up Major Carter. I understand the two of them are e-mailing buddies.”
“The Major Samantha Carter? The Air Force’s Golden Child when it comes to the exquisite and enlightening issue of Quantum Physics Theory?” a blue, ape-like man asked excitedly as he stepped into view.
Ignoring the weapons that were suddenly being trained on him, the man bowed low to Carter in an almost regal manner. “My dear associate! It is, indeed, a noteworthy moment to be blessed by your presence. My only lament of this momentous occasion is that our salutations are hindered by the malevolent times that are now upon us,” he continued, offering his hand to Carter. She took it hesitantly, and Hank placed a courtly kiss on the back of Sam’s hand before releasing it.
“And you are?” Jack asked, eyeing the big blue guy that talked like he had swallowed a couple of dictionaries. ‘For cryin’ out loud, not even Daniel talks like that.’ He also didn’t like the fact that the blue boy had managed to kiss Carter on the hand like he was some kind of English gentleman. ‘Just who the hell did he think he was?’ Right now, shooting the guy with a zat blast was sounding better and better.
“Of course my dear man, where are my manners?” the blue ape-man asked. “I am Dr. Henry ‘Hank’ McCoy, although I do occasionally go by the moniker the Beast. A bit of a joke I am forced to endure, due to my outer physical manifestation.”
Major Carter’s eyes lighted up at this. “The Hank McCoy?” she asked excitedly.
“The one and only,” he said proudly, as he flashed a toothy grin at the assembled people.
“Sir,” Sam said, turning to her superior, “Dr. McCoy is one of the world’s leading minds on genetics. He also has half a dozen degrees in various other subjects. While he is no Reed Richards, he is considered one of the world’s greater minds.”
“You sure this is the same guy?” Jack said doubtfully, as he looked the guy over. Hell, he was still trying to figure what all the blue monkey like guy had said.
“I would be more than willing to show you my driver’s license, since it is obvious you believe that my claims to my being are dubious.” McCoy looked amused.
“Janet is going to be so jealous that I managed to meet you!” Carter said excitedly, her eyes glazing over in excitement.
“Hey, Carter, you sure this guy is from Earth?” Jack said. He winced inwardly at the glares that he was receiving from people on both sides. Evidently, that was not the way to say things to any of these people.
“Please.” McCoy said, waving Jack’s question off in a dismissive manner. “I am most definitely of this planet. At least, so the documentation of my birth says.”
“His birth certificate, Sir.”
“And if those are not enough for you, I happen to be giving council to the President on the mutant matters in Washington. I am, in fact, the Secretary of Mutant Affairs. Would you prefer it if I attained my treatises on the subject for you to assess?”
“Um, he asked if you wanted him to get his paperwork for his work with the President.” Daniel said to his friend.
“That won’t be necessary,” Carter assured the blue man, as she stomped on her C.O.’s foot before he could object.
“So, are we going to stand around here in the doorway looking at each other till we’re sure we’re all on the same side, or are we going to go ahead and go in and talk?” Dean asked sarcastically, stuffing his hands into his jacket.
“We really don’t need that brand of humor right now.” Mr. Kent told Dean, the young man got on his nerves, and he was afraid it was because his gallows style humor reminded him uncomfortably of the Luthors’ style of joking.
“Sure thing.” Dean said, while he rolled his eyes at the small-town farmer. You’d think a fellow Kansan would be better company than his moody, pain-in-the-ass brother. But no, of all the kinds they had to meet up with, it had to be a person as hard nosed as his brother and father were.
“He is right, though,” Prue pointed out, while she inwardly rolled her own eyes at Mr. Kent and the older Winchester boy for the way they were still at each other’s throats. She was willing to bet they didn’t even realize that they were doing it, either. “Are you going to let us in?” the eldest of the three sisters asked.
“Ah, what the hell; if Chuck says so, then yer in. But ya screw things up, then I get to take ya out, and I get to tell Chuck I told you so.” The man with the knives made a movement too quick to follow, and the blades disappeared from view.
Nodding, they all trooped in, and gathered around the bits of furniture that the others had managed to scrounge up.
“So...where is she?” Riley asked them impatiently. He was worried for the girl, and would like to know that she was all right. He knew that she had been near the end of her rope the last time he had seen her, but he hoped that she was doing better than he actually thought that she might be doing.
“She’s talking to her blond friend. She was mentally exhausted, and needed a few minutes to unwind. When she’s done talking to the man, hopefully she’ll talk to us and fill us in on what’s going on,” Xavier explained from where he was sitting near the middle of the room.
“Spike?” Riley said in disbelief. Spike? He was the only one who had bothered to hang out with the Slayer? He opened his mouth to complain, but decided against it, since causing problems with Spike was not going to help them in their current position. If the formerly chipped vampire caused problems, he would step in; otherwise he would let this play out for now.
Order of the Phoenix: Sunnydale Park
Oz blinked a couple of times, as he found himself back in the Sunnydale Park. He hadn’t been here in years, not even when he visited the town had he bothered to come here. It really had been a long time since he had bothered to come here, he reflected, as he cocked his head to the side and listened for any sounds that shouldn’t be there. The only problem was that there was almost no sound whatsoever coming from anywhere. It was as if all of the animals of Sunnydale had gone and made a run for it with all of the people. The wolf side of him could sense Willow not too far off from here. Normally he would have headed that way, but he had to keep control, and that meant giving himself time in town before he saw her.
The werewolf breathed in deeply to calm himself, and was slightly surprised at the number of female scents he was picking up. Some of them he could easily identify, such as the sweet, herb-like scent of Willow; and the mixture of strawberries, blood and vampire dust of Buffy. There was the combination of books and tea of Giles; Xander’s scent of sugar, along with sweat and blood of a person that often had to work to get what they wanted. Anya’s scent was always a disturbing one, since her scent was always covered in some odd perfume or other. Then there was the fact that Anya’s body smelled young, like a child. He supposed that was because that she had formerly been a demon, though the newness scent seemed to have gotten stronger than he remembered. The smell of cigarettes and leather was easy enough to remember as Spike. Then there was Dawn’s scent of cinnamon and strawberry. The last scent that he recognized actually caught the werewolf off guard; it was the scent of blood, tears and vampire dust.
“Faith’s back.” He said to himself, as he continued to breathe in the other scents. The rest were that of girls, and two males that he didn’t recognize. His lack of familiarity with the two scents meant that they weren’t natives to the town, or that they were people he hadn’t met before. Though one of them did tickle the back of his memory, as if there was something slightly familiar about it. There were also a few other scents that were new; they smelled of darkness and blood. Then there were two scents that were kind of new to him, one smelled like a vampire with the combination of when the Hellmouth opened. The other scent smelled human, but there was something else to it that just smelled wrong. Whoever, or whatever those were, the park had been patrolled by both sides enough that all of their scents were noticeable.
He tried to sort out the scents now, but there were so many others, that they didn’t make sense. He doubted that Lupin, who looked like he wanted to run, was having any luck at understanding what he smelled. The large amount of blood that scented Sunnydale was distracting enough to a newcomer, without the need to find something.
Oz took one more sniff, caught onto the strongest Buffy scent, and decided to follow that. He didn’t want to just pop up at her door and expect an invite. One, it was rude. Two, it was after sunset, so he shouldn’t expect that sort of thing, and three, it meant a little bit more time away from Willow. There was also the fact that the Buffy didn’t like people just coming in like that. Reminded her too much of crazy, possessed dolls, she had said one time.
“All right. Split into yer groups,” Moody commanded, in his growling voice.
Oz briefly wondered how the wizard kept from getting dizzy, with the way that big blue eye of his was spinning around in his head. Ignoring the groups that they were getting into, he set his guitar and pack down. He opened his rucksack, and began pulling out the things he would need. A couple of crosses went into his belt loops for easy access, some stakes went into his other pockets that were easy to reach. He then picked up the crossbow that he had specially designed for him. He strapped the full quiver on with a belt, so that the bolts rode at his side. He saw that the big man that he noticed earlier was prepping his own gear; he had a giant club strapped at his waist, and a giant crossbow in his hands. He doubted that even Buffy could fire that thing with out some troubles. The bolts for the weapon were large as well.
The big, bushy-haired man grinned at him. “Even if me aim ain’t that good, them ruddy vampires will still be dust.”
The werewolf nodded in appreciation of the weapon. “Cool,” he said as he tossed the bag that now mainly held holy water, clothes and guitar strings over his shoulder. Remus waved his wand at his guitar case, and the werewolf nodded his thanks as the case shrunk enough to fit into his pocket. Sniffing once more, he followed after the strongest Buffy scent.
Moody watched as the Muggle werewolf took off at a casual yet brisk pace. “You, Weasleys, take Tonks, Lupin, Delacour and Hagrid with ya. I want ya to stick with him, ‘cause I want him to be alive when we make first contact. Is that understood?”
“Your concern for his well-being is just overwhelming, Mad-Eye,” one of the twins joked.
“Yes, careful, or someone might think you’re going soft.” The other finished.
“Just go, you lot,” the old man growled in annoyance. He turned to see the jealous glares some of the men were giving Bill Weasley. “Remember that they’re engaged, people.” Moody growled dangerously causing several of the people to blush.
Oz ignored the people following him, as he trailed Buffy’s scent. The trail first led to a graveyard. He stopped in surprise as he saw the name on the stone a fight had been in front of. “Joyce Summers...” he read aloud quietly. He bowed his head for a moment, before he continued his tracking. A group had joined Buffy, and Spike and someone else had followed after them. The group of people behind him followed after him quietly. Oz finally stopped in front of a familiar looking mansion. He had only been here a couple of times, but he knew the place well. “Angel’s,” he said to himself, wondering why Buffy hadn’t bothered to go to her house. He also wondered where all the different smells were coming from. He admired a couple of cars, as he headed up a few of the steps. “They’re all there,” Oz said, as he walked through and saw a couple of soldiers standing guard duty.
“Oz?” One of them said in surprise.
“Riley,” The werewolf returned emotionlessly.
“I take it you got a letter, too?”
“They told me about it,” Oz replied, nodding to the wizards behind him.
Riley nodded, as he looked at the group of people behind the werewolf.
“More of Buffy’s family? Or are you just friends of the family?” The soldier asked curious.
“Friends of the family,” Remus replied, “we’re looking for Harry, Ron, and Hermione.”
“They’re inside with everyone else. Right now we’re waiting for Buffy to get herself together.”
“What happened?” Oz asked.
“The Scoobies kicked her out of her house,” Riley returned, the werewolf raised his eyebrow in surprise, but didn’t say anything.
“So, are you gonna invite us in?” Charlie asked.
“Hmm? Right, sure, sorry.” Riley said. “Right after I’m sure that’s Oz.”
“And how you going to do that?”
“What was the color of the door to your cell at the college?”
“There was no door,” Oz said in a clipped tone full of warning.
“That’s him,” Riley said, as he gestured for him to go on in.
“We are going to have a few more come in a few minutes.” Mr. Weasley said smiling at the Muggles.
“I see, well, one of you stay out here then,” Riley said. “That bushy haired girl is making me nervous, the way she’s talking about balance, and how the First might have something extra on its side, now that we’ve got all of us as well.”
“Hermione,” The wizards and witches all said, knowing full well who it was that was talking like that.
“Only she would know about those sorts of things.”
“Yeah? Well, she was driving me up the wall.” The other man said. “I don’t like it when things take turns like that.”
“Don’t worry so much, Colonel.”
“Whatever,” the man muttered.
Tonks waved her wand, and a silver werewolf emerged from the tip. Oz looked questioningly at it, but didn’t say anything, as the creature that the witch had produced ran off.
“And that was?”
“Me sending a message,” the woman said, smiling.
“Right, of course, why didn’t I think of that?” Two figures suddenly appeared in front of them with loud pops. “What the hell!”
Mad-Eye Moody, and the Muggle colonel were suddenly holding their weapons of choice on each other. Moody with his elm wood dragon heartstring wand, and Colonel Jack O’Neil with his regulation P-90. “Who are you?” Moody growled.
“What do ya mean who am I? Who are you?” Jack returned.
“Um Moody, they’re friends.”
“What? You sure about this Arthur?”
“Yes I’m sure.” The eldest of the Weasley’s said, “That means no cursing him.” The two old soldiers cautiously lowered their weapons.
“Good, can we enter? I’d like to see how my students are doing.” McGonagall said in her scariest no nonsense manner, which inspired fear in all her students. “Remus, you will talk to Harry, I will talk to Miss Granger. Molly, Arthur, I think that the two of you can talk with your son.”
“Now, hold on there, Minerva,” Remus said, grabbing her by the arm. “Can you honestly say that you wouldn’t have done the same thing? Or that Dumbledore wouldn’t have? If Dumbledore had known of this, he would have been one of the first people to follow Harry, and offer his aid. You know that. When we understand what it is that we are facing, then we can gripe at them, is that understood? In fact, you can gripe at them after we get back to England, and not before,” he said, looking at his former professor and Mrs. Weasley, who both nodded reluctantly at the older werewolf. “Right. Now, we need to work together, not try and cut each other off.”
“You think they did the right thing?” McGonagall asked curiously.
“My feelings are mixed on this subject. On the one hand, I’m furious that they took off like they did; but on the other hand, I am extremely proud of them for being willing to risk so much, for not only each other but for the world.”
“Teacher’s pets,” the Weasley twins coughed, grinning.
Remus ignored the two of them, knowing that they meant it in the best of ways. “Now then, shall we go in?”
The group nodded, as they all filed in. They saw the young people that they were looking for talking to another group of youngsters. The unknown teens were all dressed in black leather armor, which had a giant X symbol on the chest in various colors.
“They, at least, appear to be dressed fer fighting,” Moody said approvingly, as they approached the trio.
“Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Professors,” Harry said in greeting, as the group finally reached them.
“Told ya, lad, I was never yer professor,” Moody said.
“Well Harry, I must admit you led us on quite a chase.” McGonagall said, glaring at the three teens. “We will discuss this when we get back home; for now, though, it seems that we are involved in the coming war between the forces of darkness and light, whether we want to be or not.”
“Isn’t it what the Order of the Phoenix is for, though?” Hermione asked of her favorite teacher. “With a name like that, I would presume that it has been instrumental in battling other Dark wizarding groups in the past.”
“Yes,” McGonagall admitted, “but that does not mean that we should rush headlong into a fight we may not win.”
“Eh, where’s the fun in that?” a nearby man said.
“Sometimes it helps to think things out,” she replied tartly.
“Whatever,” the man said as he walked by.
“Besides, Professor, what’s the point of beating Voldemort if the world is plunged into hell?” Ron asked smugly, his eyes twinkling much like the twins’ did.
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it. Besides, those are fights that are supposed to be fought by champions, Mr. Weasley,” snapped Minerva.
“Congratulations on your promotion to champion then,” Harry replied sarcastically. “The pay is awful, and you risk your life all the time. But the reward of waking up to a world that is safe should be enough, at least so all the people say.”
McGonagall didn’t have anything to say to that. There were a few snorts of amusement from the various people that were standing around the room and could hear the conversation.
Mrs. Weasley finally stormed over to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and engulfed them in a large hug.
“You know love, as much as I enjoy just holding you like this, you are needed out there,” Spike murmured, nodding towards the closed door that led back into the main room.
“I know,” Buffy said grimly, as she lay snuggled against the vampire.
“Oh, and just so you know, there are a whole lot more people out there than when we came in here,” Spike said warningly. “So when you go out there, you’ll be needing to look at least like you’re ready for what’s coming.”
“And if I’m not ready?” The Slayer looked up at Spike, pain and anger warring with hope in her expression.
“Then we still got the fact that you’re a great actress, and BS can stand for more than just your name, Slayer,” the vampire smirked.
Buffy took a deep breath, and nodded decisively. “Right, let’s get this done, then.”
The blond vampire nodded as he got up and put his jacket back on. He carefully turned the collar up, so that it rubbed against his neck. Spike then adjusted the shoulders, so that the coat was now ready to billow behind him when he walked out. He looked like he was the Big Bad again.
“Showtime,” the vampire said, smirking at the Slayer, right before the door opened.
The Slayer and ensouled vampire walked into the room. The young woman’s eyes opened in surprise as she saw the number of people that were standing in what had once passed as Angel’s sitting room.
Before anyone could say anything, three sticks with glowing ends were suddenly pointed at Spike. “Hold it right there, Malfoy! Make a wrong move and I’ll curse you to oblivion,” a kid with dark hair, green eyes and a lightning bolt scar threatened.
“Who the bloody hell are you?” the vampire asked cautiously, as the trio of hurt, teary-eyed, wand-wielding kids confronted him. It was if he reminded them of something, or someone. “Now, take it easy there, kids. I dunno who this Malfoy person is, but I promise you, I ain’t him. Fact is, I ain’t been to the mother land in a few years now.” He really didn’t want to have to hurt these kids if he could help it, especially not in front of the Slayer.
The girl seemed to have a few brain cells still working, and she slowly lowered her wand. “Come on, lads,” Spike said encouragingly, trying to remain calm. “Let’s not do anything that you’ll regret.”
“Shut up, Malfoy!” the redhead snarled.
“Ron, that’s not Malfoy,” the girl said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder and giving it a brief squeeze.
The redhead reluctantly lowered his wand. “You sure?” he asked, disappointment covering his face. “You sure he’s not the ferret? Or maybe his dad?” he added, almost hopefully.
“Yes, now put the wand away. The both of you,” she added, her eyes narrowing, as she finally noticed that their raven-haired friend had yet to lower his own wand.
The young man held the wand on the vampire, but his hand was now shaking as he aimed.
“Easy there mate, just point the magic stick down so nobody gets hurt,” Spike said softly.
“I should have saved him.” Harry said, not even seeing the vampire anymore, as the wand finally pointed downwards, the younger man not willing to let go of his weapon. He fell to his knees in misery.
The blonde vampire was unsure what to do, as the boy that had just been threatening him fell apart right in front of him.
“He told me he felt safe because I was there,” the teen continued dully. “I failed him, though. Why does everyone I care for have to die?”
Buffy knelt down by the boy and hugged him gently. “It’s because we were chosen by Fate, or the Powers, or simply drew a bad hand in the game of life, or whatever it is that you want to believe in. But we’ve got to keep going. ‘Cause we have to, and there is no one else strong enough to do it.”
“But I’m not strong,” Harry protested weakly.
“That’s a bunch of shite, mate.” Ron Weasley said knowingly, as he knelt down by his best friend. The red head ignored the gasps and the hissed, “Ron!” He didn’t even acknowledge the chuckles of his brothers. He was too focused right now to care what other people were saying about him.
The Slayer scooted back, so that the two boys could talk. The third member of their group quickly joined them.
Hermione glared into the pain-filled emerald green eyes. “Harry James Potter, you listen to me, and you listen good. You’re one of the strongest people that I’ve ever met Harry. If you weren’t strong, then you’d be dead by now. Sirius and Dumbledore believed in that too; that’s why they were taken from you, because they gave you the confidence to use that strength. Now we have to learn to fight without them here to help you.”
“She’s right mate.” The red head said nodding. “I mean its Hermione, of course she’s right.” The boys gazed at each other for a moment, occasionally breaking eye contact to look at the third part of their team. Ron finally broke out into a weak grin. “Though you are still a lousy chess player.” The boys chuckled weakly at the joke.
Their other friend then engulfed the two in a bone-crushing hug. “Why do you two have to be so stupid?” she asked them.
“She’s still nutters, mate.” The boys just held onto their protesting friend, obviously not wanting her any other way.
Buffy looked at the three hollowly with a bit longing in her eyes. “They’re right, you know. Like I said, we have to be strong for those that can’t be. This is our fate. It’s our duty, and our curse,” the Slayer said, knowing that the teen would understand what she meant.
Harry nodded in understanding.
Buffy smiled tiredly, as she was helped back up by a familiar set of strong arms. She grinned at Riley, as the two shared a brief hug, which surprised the black ops soldier, but he returned it anyway. The Slayer released her ex, and finally looked around the room. She was shocked at the number of people that were in this room. There were people she knew, and didn’t know all over the place. Farm boys, city boys, soldiers and people she didn’t know what to call were all quietly watching, as she slowly came out of her surprise at seeing them all. Her eyes widened, as she saw Prue and her sisters standing there and not fighting. ‘Had one of the Apocalypses affected them somehow?’
Were all of these people here members of her family?
“Commander Summers.” A man in green clothes, and dark graying hair said. “I am pleased to turn command of all military personnel in Sunnydale over to you.”
“What? Commander?! There’s gotta be some kind of mistake there. You oh so don’t want me in command. Me and command are not mixing things.”
Riley was amused by the rabbit-in-the-headlights look on Buffy’s face, and had to work extra hard to hide the smirk on his face.
The man ignored her protests. “You have a command of forty soldiers. All of them are ready to obey your orders. Then, of course, there’s the rest of your family, who simply insisted on coming along to help you out as well,” he said, waving his hand at the various people gathered in the room. “Give us a target, and we will take it out,” he assured her.
“Looks like you don’t need to worry about what to do next after all,” Spike said smugly. “I just wish that I had a camera for when them lot of bloody traitors see all this.”
“We already talked about this, Spike.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t still be pissed about it, though, Slayer,” the vampire argued back at her.
“I think some of us had our cameras running at the time,” Jack mentioned innocently.
“That’s great, mate,” Spike smiled widely at the soldier.
Buffy protested, “Look, Spike, I am as much to blame as they are, not all of my orders were right, and I was being a bit of a pain as well with the way I was acting.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that you were right, and they were wrong, about the vineyard, though,” the bleached blond vampire snorted.
“Both sides have good points; let’s please leave it at that. All right?” she pleaded.
“Fine,” the vampire said, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “Now, how about we get the introductions going? ‘Cause saying ‘hey you’ to a bunch of people ain’t exactly going to make our work easy, luv. Besides, it looks like not all of us are exactly human,” said Spike, eyeing the various people gathered around the room.
Buffy thought that was a good idea, but noticed that several of the people looked a bit distrustful of the soldiers at this suggestion. “Let me guess, some of you guys have had less than fun experiences with the military, and aren’t sure that you can trust them...right?”
Buffy couldn’t help but smirk, as over half of the room nodded. “Why is it, the government always has to piss our kind off?” she asked Riley.
“’Cause they hate the fact that there’s someone better at fixing a mess than they are,” Riley replied a cheeky grin pointed at her.
Jack frowned at Riley, but couldn’t find much wrong with his assessment.
“Okay, so here’s what we are going to do then,” Prue said. “We tell each other who we are, and how we are related to Buffy here, and it all stays in this room. Sound like a good plan, Buffy?”
“I’m game.” The Slayer responded. “Think you guys can go by those rules?” The Slayer asked looking pointedly at the soldiers.
“Hey, you’re the boss here.” O’Neill said, holding out his hands in mock surrender. “What you say goes.”
“Great. I love it when a plan comes together,” Spike said. “Slayer, why don’t you go first? You can give ‘em the whole ‘Chosen One’ bit.”
“Thanks for volunteering me,” the Slayer said sarcastically.
“Anything to help, luv,” smirked Spike, leaning against a convenient wall.
“Wait a minute,” Buffy said slowly, looking at Prue suspiciously. “What do you mean, ‘related to me’?”
“Um, well, I think each group has at least one person who is somehow related to you,” the witch said. She grinned suddenly. “You know, when you send mail to people, occasionally they do answer.”
“Mail?” The Slayer questioned dumbly.
“Yeah,” Prue nodded. She pulled the short cover letter from her pocket and showed it to Buffy.
The blonde shook her head in amazement. “Those letters, I wrote them when I first began understanding what was going on. The Turok-Han kicked my ass earlier that night, and I woke up hurting all over,” Buffy said softly, as she remembered when she had written the letters to all of her family. She closed her eyes as she remembered.
She looked up from the food in the microwave and noticed her mom’s address book lying under a small pile of papers. She calmly picked up the book, along with the yummy smelling pepperoni pizza, and went back to her room. She sat down at the desk, and looked over the various names in the book. Some of these people she had never heard of, but they were actually supposed to be distant cousins. And some were friends that her mom had made on one of her business trips or from her college days. It was kind of crazy realizing. that her mom had known so many different people, but never told her about them. ‘Kind of makes me wish I had done that family tree project for school,’ she thought to herself. Looking at this had given her the very smallest of ideas. An idea she knew that Giles and the others would hate, but an idea all the same. The only question was, should she? ‘What the hell,’ she thought. Maybe she could give the world a fighting chance. Even if it was a really, really slim chance.
She began writing letters of warning to each of the people that were there, and just went down the line, telling them her story, and a little of her friends’ stories (they had the right to decide for themselves if they wanted people to know about them). When she was done, there would be at least a handful of people that might hopefully understand what was going on.’ That is, if they don’t try and send me to a mental hospital,’ she thought wryly, a small grin on her face. “Oh, ouch,” she whined as the grin tugged at some of the scratches she had. It took her nearly all night, but she had a nice big wad of letters ready to be sent, along with several copies of her version of what had been happening. Fortunately, Anya had insisted on buying a copy machine to take care of business receipts, and amazingly wasn’t charging them to use it. ‘And to think, I nearly failed English,’ she thought as she stuffed one of the envelopes. She would take the letters by the post office tomorrow; it was still open, so that meant she might be okay. Content, that even should she fail, there would be others to continue the fight that she had dedicated her life to. Even though she knew she would never really win the fight, it had been fun while it lasted. She nodded in satisfaction as the last stamp was in place. After she had drunk enough water to get the stamp taste out of her mouth, she went back to bed for a few hours of rest.
“But they disappeared before I could decide what to do with them.”
“You mean...you didn’t mail them to us?” Prue was bewildered, and the other family members looked much the same.
The blonde Slayer shook her head in the negative. “No; I haven’t seen those things since I wrote them. In fact, I practically forgot about them, with everything that’s been happening.”
“Maybe, but you sounded like you needed help with everything that was going on in these letters,” one of the farmer looking people said.
“You mean to tell me, you all came here to help because of those letters?” Buffy asked in disbelief. And she watched as several people began to pull their own little notes out of their various pockets to display them to her. She recognized her signature at the bottom of each and every one of those letters.
“And I thought I had a weird family with Peaches and Dru,” Spike mumbled in awe at this turn of events.
“But why would you risk your lives to help me?” the Slayer asked. “This is my mess, so I should be the one to fix it,” she muttered, looking down.
“Because you’re family, kiddo,” the old soldier guy told her. “And in this family, we take care of our own; isn’t that right?” he asked, looking around at the people standing there. “Besides, saving the world isn’t just your thing; we all play our own little parts in doing it. I’m beginning to think that it’s a family thing,” he added, with a crooked grin.
“All right, I guess I go first then,” Buffy mumbled, trying to get her head around the fact that her family was gathered in this room with their closest friends. “Just remember, that there’s the no telling rule here.” The Slayer took a deep breath before she began. “Well, since everyone here I’m guessing is family, or somehow connected to family, I’m guessing that you’ve all gotten a chance to look at my letters, that explain about me being the Slayer and all of that stuff, right? So you all know the whole ‘one girl chosen to protect the world’ bit, and I don’t have to explain all that, right?”
Buffy was pleased to get affirmative nods. She gave Spike a bit of a smile, as he scowled at her cheating her way out of giving her story. “Great, then all I’ll be doing is explaining what little I do know about the First, who is the current Big Bad, and explain its abilities, and what exactly it is that it’s trying to do.” She then spent the next hour explaining everything that she thought might be of interest to them about what had happened in Sunnydale over the years; bringing up anything and everything which might have some connection to the current problem.
“...So that’s my story,” Buffy concluded, taking a sip from the glass of water Spike had thoughtfully brought her. “I know most of you already knew most of that, but hey! That’s done, so who’s next? And remember, I want the short versions. I only talked as long as I did because I was giving you an idea of what we were all getting into, and you could, maybe, have one person do the talking for your groups? It might save on time,” Buffy suggested hopefully.
A man stood up and looked at the people in the room hesitantly before he began to speak. “I am Connor McLeod, of the Clan McLeod, and I, along with most of my companions, am Immortal. We do not grow old; we do not die; we just are. Only one thing can kill us, and that is to remove our heads.”
Several people grimaced at this, but didn’t say anything as the man pointed to his friends.
“This is my Clansman and former student Duncan McLeod. Next to him is his student Richard Ryan--” “-call me Richie,” the young Immortal said, grinning- “-and next to him is Amanda Devereaux; and, hiding there in the corner is Methos, the oldest of our kind,” Connor continued. Indicating the older man who sat in the room’s only comfortable chair, he went on, “Then Joe Dawson, here, is the one charged with recording all that happens in the life of Duncan. All Immortals have Watcher like him.”
“Watchers? Any relation with my kind?” The Slayer asked, as she eyed the older man curiously. He didn’t look much like any kind of tweed-wearing, tea-sipping, rulebook-spouting Watcher to her.
“We don’t know,” Joe said scowling, obviously disliking not knowing this little bit of information.
“Keep looking, we might find something of use in that. Especially since the British version got blown up. There anything else you want to add?”
McLeod looked hesitant, but nodded. “I was the godfather to one of your ancestors long ago, and I pledged to check on your family from time to time which is why I came running. Unfortunately, the past few years have been a bit busy for me or I would have been here sooner. Had I known what was happening to you, I would have come and either taken you away from this, or trained you for your duty.”
The Slayer was a bit startled by the fact that she trusted the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks. Who’s next?”
“I believe we are. I’m afraid that are bit of the family isn’t as impressive as them, or as some of the others appear to be,” an old man said rising from one of the few chairs in the room. “We’re the Dukes, from Hazzard County. We may not have any flashy abilities like them with their swords and stuff, but we’ll do what we can to help.”
“You guys may not have abilities like some of the people here do, but the way one of you took care of that one demon, I think that you’re more than capable of watching after yourselves.” Phoebe Halliwell said.
“Yes, well, Luke here always has been a bit of an overachiever,” the old man said proudly, as he began introducing his part of the family. “While Bo here, has always been the show off. Daisy here is the sweet one, though.” The woman smiled, as she waved to her cousin. “Cooter Davenport, and Enos Strate over here, they may not be Dukes by name, but when it comes right down to it, they’re as good as family.” The two men smiled at this.
“Welcome to Sunny Hell, mate.”
Jesse nodded toward the vampire, as he sat down.
Jack stood up, and gave a brief smile at the girl. “Well, I’m Jack O’Neill, your great uncle. In case you hadn’t noticed yet, I’m a Colonel in the U.S. Air Force. I’m one of the leaders of the military forces that you are the overall commander of. The only person who currently has more pull with our troops than you is the President of the United States.”
“What are your people’s experiences in dealing with things that really don’t make a lick of sense, Colonel?”
“Part of our forces are used to dealing with things that are out there. The other half, I understand, are used to fighting your vampires and demons on a global scale, while you held the line here.”
“Yeah and you can see what a great job I’ve been doing,” the Slayer said bitterly. “The First Evil is practically knocking on the door. In fact, it’s starting to remind me of those door to door missionaries that refuse to leave you alone.”
“Anyways, these are my team. They’re the best at what they do. SG-1 might even give you a run for your money on the number of times we’ve saved the world. We got Major Samantha Carter, Dr. Daniel Jackson, and Teal’c. Bra’tac over there is actually just a close friend of ours, and he was Teal’c’s old instructor. Trust me, despite how old he looks, he’s both older, and spryer than you’d think.”
“When you say out there, do you mean out there, out there?” Cooter asked curiously. The Kents looked up at this question with interest. The Colonel just nodded.
“I guess we’re next,” the bushy haired girl said, as she smoothed out the front of her cloak. “My name is Hermione Granger, and these are my friends Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley. I’m the only one here that is related to you from this group though.” she said, as she gestured to the people behind her.
There were a few snickers at this, which Hermione ignored.
“I am a witch, and the boys are wizards. We live in a world that is alongside the Muggle; I mean regular world, a world that is made up entirely of magic users. We use wands and everything,” she said, as she pulled out a slender piece of wood. “We are currently at war with a dark wizard. Ron and Harry were the only ones that I expected to come and help, but the others decided to chase after us.”
“Well, at least they came in good company,” the Slayer remarked, as her eyes landed on one member of the group. “How you doing, Oz?” she asked, as she walked over and gave Oz a brief hug. “I’m glad you’re here,” Buffy told her old wolfy friend. She noticed that a kind of old guy seemed surprised that she was willing to grab onto the werewolf like she had.
“Willow?” the werewolf inquired.
“My house, with the others,” was the terse reply.
Spike snorted at this, but didn’t say anything about it either. Buffy was just glad that she could still speak fluent Oz after all this time.
The young werewolf looked at the Slayer questioningly; there was something she wasn’t saying. He hoped it wasn’t anything too bad.
Hermione was surprised that the adults had managed to find someone that knew her cousin in the amount of time they had. “Um, yes,” she said, obviously flustered. “Well, next to your friend are our friends Remus Lupin, and Tonks. Next to them is Mad-Eye Moody.” The man scowled at the crowd as his magical eye roamed around his head, but he didn’t say anything. “Next to him is Hagrid, one of our closest friends, despite how we treat him sometimes.” The half-giant smiled broadly at this. “Professor, I mean Headmistress McGonagall is next.” The girl winced at this. “And then there are Ron’s family the Weasleys.” The redheads and single blonde nodded in greeting to the large crowd. “Are there any others?”
“Aye, what we could gather of the Order of the Phoenix is here as well,” Moody said in his gruff voice. “There’s about thirty of us when all is said and done,” the former Auror said.
“I guess we’re next then,” Jonathan Kent said from where he was standing next to his family. “I’m Jonathan Kent; this is my wife, Martha, and our son, Clark. We are from Kansas, and like the Dukes, we are farmers.”
“Anything unique, or out of the ordinary about your family?”
“Yeah, me,” Clark said nervously, as he took a protective step forward, while he faced the rest of his family. He knew his grandfather could never really know about him, but these people at least could understand. “I’m from another planet.”
SG-1 looked slightly more interested at this bit of information.
“So, you and the soldiers should have a lot in common then,” remarked Buffy.
“Not really. I was just a baby when I was placed on Earth, and from everything we’ve been able to figure out, my entire planet was destroyed.”
“Sorry to hear that,” the blonde Slayer said sympathetically.
“What did your people call themselves?” Daniel asked, leaning forward curiously. This wasn’t the first time that aliens had made their way to Earth. For all they knew the boy before them could be a missing link to the Ancients, or one of the old races like the Furlings.
“Kryptonian,” the boy said uncomfortably. ”My people called themselves Kryptonians, of the planet Krypton.”
“I’ve never heard of a planet called that, sir.”
The two men conversed for a moment in Goa’uld, before Teal’c answered for then both. “I have not heard of any planet named that either, O’Neill. It could be though, that it is somehow connected with the Asgard, or maybe the Nox; it will take some looking into, though, O’Neill.”
“Wait a minute. Clark Kent, from Kansas?” Daniel asked excitedly.
“Yes, sir; that’s me.” Clark was bewildered by Daniel’s sudden interest.
“Not Smallville, Kansas, by any chance?”
“You’re the kid that found those Indian caves, then. I knew you looked familiar.” Daniel was now ecstatic. “Those caves are supposed to be one of the rarest archaeological finds in the U.S. right now. The number of people that have tried to translate some of the pictures in there is amazing. Yet none of them have managed to translate any of the pictures yet. In fact, an associate of mine was actually driven crazy by the caves.”
“Err, yeah, that’s me.” Clark admitted. “I was four wheeling with my friend at the time, and I kind of fell into the entrance.” There were a few chuckles at this. “Anyway,” Clark said, “my abilities include super strength, super speed, invulnerability, and heat vision.” Clark held his breath, waiting to see what kind of reaction he would get from that bit of news.
“You have all of those abilities?” Buffy asked slowly.
“So, can you read what the writings in the cave say?” asked Daniel intently.
“Err yeah, me and one other person can,” the teen said in surprise. No one looked on him like he was some type of monster, and Dr. Jackson didn’t even seem to care about what he could do.
“Daniel, you can ask your rock questions later. Right now, this other stuff is a bit more important at the moment,” Colonel O’Neill interjected.
“But Jack,” began Daniel.
“Ah-ah,” the Colonel said, holding his finger up at his friend. “I said later, and I meant later.”
The archaeologist scowled at his friend, as if he had denied him a rare treat, but reluctantly nodded anyway.
“So, what other family secrets need to be brought to light?” Jack asked, as he rubbed his hands in anticipation.
Prue rolled her eyes; this guy was enjoying this way too much, in her opinion. She also wouldn’t mind getting to know a bit more about the caves. She had read everything on them, and the one thing that kept popping back up was the mention of some type of key that always disappeared after a few days of examination. Oh well, they really did have more important things to do.
“Well, I’m Prue Halliwell, and these two are my sisters. The loud one is Phoebe, and the quiet one is Piper. We are from a branch of the family that are witches, as well. The only difference that I know of is that we don’t require wands to work our magic. Ours is more incantations and potions, than waving a stick around,” the dark-haired witch said. “My sisters and I are a prophesied group of witches who hold a lot of power, and are supposed to kick demon butt. We are the Charmed Ones.”
“You know prophecy is such a pain,” Buffy commented, with a small grin.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Piper said, “do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep a job when you have to go and vanquish a demon? And let’s not even go into finding out that your boyfriend suddenly wants to kill you.”
“I know the feeling,” Buffy said dryly, sending warning looks at Spike, who was snickering.
Several other people nodded in agreement. “It must run in your family, Slayer,” Spike said.
Buffy ignored the comment about her relationship skills. “So, do you have any individual skills?”
“Well, I can move things; similar to telekinesis. Piper can freeze things, and Phoebe here gets visions of when bad things are about to happen.”
“If it weren’t for the potions bit, I would change to your style of magic.” Ron said, a dreamy look on his face. “Being able to freeze things with a wave of your hand would be so wicked.”
“Instead, you have your wand. Get used to it,” Harry told his friend.
“Easy there, you two,” Mr. Weasley told the two boys warningly.
“Sorry dad, just imagining freezing Snape, then pointing him at a wall to run into.”
The wand wielders nodded in understanding.
“Scottie, how about you go next?” suggested the Slayer.
“Fine, squirt. I’m Scott Summers, and over there is my younger brother Alex.” The blond man waved in greeting. Scott then gestured to the whole group of people sporting X-Uniforms. “And the rest of us here are the X-Men. We are people blessed with abilities beyond that of other people. Unlike those of you who were enhanced by magic, though, we are merely the next step in human evolution.”
“Please tell me yer not going to give them the whole ‘mutants and humans can live in peace’ speech right now, One-Eye,” the man with long sideburns asked gruffly.
“I guess that is a bit of overkill at the moment,” the leader of the team agreed. “Perhaps the Professor should take over from here. Professor?”
“Thank you, Scott,” Xavier said, as he rolled to the front of the room. “I will try not to bore you with details. Basically, the difference between us and others is that our bodies are more advanced, for lack of a better word, and nature, while she is deciding on what path to take it, has given a small percent of humans a number of different possibilities. I run a school where people with powers and abilities can come and learn how to use these abilities without fear of persecution because of their gifts. We teach them how to use their powers to the greater good of humanity and we teach the regular school program as well. This particular group is made up of some my best-trained people,” the man said proudly. “Though some are not actually trained by me. The Summers brothers, or Cyclops and Havok, are two of the more powerful energy manipulators I’ve ever seen. Cyclops converts solar energy into optic blasts from his eyes, while Havok absorbs cosmic energies, and pushes the power from his hands.”
“They are Hok’Taur, then?” Bra’tac asked, as he looked at the assembled group of mutants.
“What?” Buffy wasn’t the only one confused.
“Advanced humans,” Daniel explained.
“Then yes we are.” Xavier said, waiting to see what the response to what they were was. Mutants were still fairly new to the world, despite the amount of publicity they were getting lately.
“Cool,” was the response of several of the people.
Xavier couldn’t help but be happy at this response. Peace was possible, he thought to himself.
“Cosmic energy?” Carter said in disbelief. “But that type of energy is full of radiation, and such things! If he were to release that energy, he could recreate some of the worst radioactive dilemmas the world has ever seen.”
“I can focus the energy beams.” Havok explained. “There is no danger except to the people that I hit.”
“But how are you alive when you release that kind of energy? The kick of shooting energy, which travels at the speed of light, should have knocked you through about a dozen different walls,” exclaimed Sam, shaking her head.
“I don’t have any kind of feedback actually. I just point and shoot.” Havok told the woman.
“But that’s...” Sam couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
“A naturally-occurring resistance to the powerful energies emitted by his body,” Hank McCoy explained to his fellow scientist.
“Well then, what kind of cosmic energies does he shoot then?” Sam queried. “Is it a form of primary cosmic power like galactic, solar, or magnetosphere, or is it some type of secondary type of cosmic energy that he shoots.”
“Carter, like Daniel you can ask your questions later. Right now, I want to focus on this,” Jack told his second. “Don’t argue, either; just say ‘Yes, Sir’.”
Carter sighed. “Yes, sir.”
“Good, now continue.”
“Thank you.” Xavier said a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Next in line are Storm and Iceman, the team elementals. They are among some of the most powerful in the world. Iceman still has a lot of work, though, till he reaches his full potential.”
The teen had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.
“Wolverine is next; he has a super powered healing factor that can heal injuries in a matter of moments, and all of his senses are enhanced to the point of an animal of some type. He also has a set of adamantium claws. Wolverine?”
The feral mutant nodded at the Professor, and popped a set of claws for a moment for all of the people to see. The fighters all looked jealously at the instant weapons that the man carried.
“But adamantium is supposed to be too strong to shape except in its raw form, and even then it has to be kept at a certain temperature or it will harden almost instantly,” Carter said slowly.
“That’s true; Logan’s claws were forced upon him,” said Xavier gravely.
“But who would do that?” Carter asked, appalled someone would do that to a person.
“The government,” Wolverine growled, as he sheathed his claws with a snikt.
“Easy there, Logan,” Xavier said soothingly, as his ‘girls’ grabbed onto their mentor and friend. “The next one would be Dr. McCoy, whose particular mutation would fall under the category of a Bestial; that is someone with animalistic features. He also has enhanced strength and agility. We have naturally dubbed him the Beast.”
The blue scientist waved a cheerful, blue-furred hand at everyone.
“The next person would be Nightcrawler.” The German mutant bowed to the group. “Nightcrawler is also in the Bestial category; he has an agility greater than Beast’s, and has the ability to stick to surfaces much like a spider would. He has the power to teleport, as well; a most useful ability, since he can take a passenger.”
“Long as you don’t mind the smell,” Nightcrawler grinned, showing sharp, white teeth.
“The next two have abilities that are nearly the opposite of each other. Colossus” – the tall, broad-shouldered young man with the black crew cut bowed slightly – “is capable of turning his entire body into a form of organic steel, which enhances both his endurance and strength. He also doesn’t need to breathe while in this form, though he does it more out of reflex than anything else. Shadowcat, here, has an extremely rare gift, though; she is capable of turning her body intangible to the point that she can actually walk on air molecules.”
“Don’t say anything, Carter,” Jack hissed at his teammate. “La-ter,” he said, stringing the word out in annoyance.
“Next is Rogue; her ability is another unique one, as she has the ability to absorb another person’s memories, powers, and life force through skin-to-skin contact.” The teen with a white streak scrunched down in her seat. “Then last, there is myself: I am a telepath.”
“The most powerful telepath in the world,” Iceman said. He was sitting beside Rogue, comforting her, while Logan held onto her shoulder.
“Thank you, Bobby.”
“No problem, Professor.”
“Hmm, guess we’re next,” a blonde, blue-eyed man said from where he was leaning against the wall. “Unfortunately, as far as we know, we aren’t related to anyone here. We’re demon hunters by trade, though; you may or may not have heard of the Winchester brothers.”
“Dean and Sam Winchester. Sons of John Winchester,” Moody said from where he was standing. “Muggle demon hunters.”
“Right, guess you have. Anyways, the reason we’re here is that Sammy boy here got a vision of this place, and we followed what we could figure from it. After that, we teamed up with some of the others and now we’re here.”
“Anyone else? Good, cause this is a lot of people,” said Buffy wearily.
“True, but look on the bright side, Slayer; you got yourself a brand new army to fight the First with. And this one ain’t likely to go and stab ya in the back,” Spike smirked.
“Maybe, Spike, but I can’t lead a group this big!” The Slayer was wringing her hands nervously at what she was facing.
“What do you mean, Slayer? You’re bloody good at what you do. Forget what that lot said,” Spike told the nervous young woman.
“But I don’t understand the kind of complex strategy that will keep people alive in these kinds of situations,” the Slayer argued. “I do better with small groups, where I can keep my eyes on everyone.” She turned away from the vampire, and looked at the soldier team. “Uncle Jack, or Colonel O’Neill, or whatever the hell I’m supposed to call you? If I tell you and the Finns where to hit someplace, can you come up with a plan to do that?” she asked cautiously, unsure how this whole chain of command thing would work.
“Yeah, sure, no problem, kid,” Jack assured the girl, impressed that the girl knew when to let other people do it. He knew the task could be daunting to someone new to this, but if she was half the on-the-spot strategist that Riley said she was, then getting her into Officers’ School would help, even if all she ever did was use that training here in Sunnyhell. A few of the others would be useful additions to the SGC as well, but a lot of them were needed elsewhere in order to keep the planet safe from stuff other than ego driven Snakes.
The Slayer nodded tiredly. “All right, I fully intend to sleep on this, but at the moment the teams will be like this. The Kent family will team up with the X-Men; Dukes, you think you can work with the soldiers?”
Jesse Duke nodded; without any powers, they were a bit more vulnerable than some of the others.
“Uncle McLeod, you and your people are the scouts. You guys practically ooze sneaky quiet, people, so you help everyone out.”
The groups nodded.
“And you, Charming sisters; team up with the wand users all right?”
The sisters nodded. “Though you’re going to have to tell me when you started talking again. Now then, does everyone have a place to sleep?”
“If they don’t, we can set someplace up at the building that we commandeered earlier today,” offered Riley.
“Good, you guys do that. Me, I’m going to get my first full night’s sleep in I don’t know how long before I deal with all of this, and I still have to take care of something on my own,” she said in a slight daze.
“Here kid, take this. If you need backup, someone will be there,” Jack said, as he tossed her a radio headset, which she snatched out of the air.
“Thanks,” she said, as she retreated back to the room she had staked out for herself.
“I do believe that we overwhelmed her with information,” Teal’c said calmly.
“Gee, you think?” Phoebe smiled.
“She’ll be all right,” Spike assured the remaining family, as he made to follow after Buffy. “She’s a hell of a lot stronger than she likes to think she is. And, your just being here is enough to lend her the strength that she needs.”
“Spike, treat her right, or I will finish what they couldn’t,” Riley growled at the vampire.
“Whatever you say, Captain Cardboard,” the vampire tossed over his shoulder, completely indifferent to the threat.
The mutants and wizards politely declined the offers of joining the soldiers at their base, saying they would stay nearby instead. Waving their wands, the teachers expanded some of the rooms and sent for the rest of the Order.
The X-men nodded their thanks to the wizards, as they took their cots to a private section, so that they could talk if they needed to over what they had learned.
Warehouse: Bad Guys HQ
The First smiled, as it sensed some of the last members of Its army in this dimension approaching. Its current form chuckled, as It felt the darkness that was Seth move closer to It. Looking out a window, the entity saw the vans that were making there way across the town toward them. The group of vans stopped in front of the warehouse, and Seth led his people out. They numbered the same as those idiotic wizards who had finally come.
Seth and his people were late arrivals, because of the wizard people’s unwillingness to move faster. But the rules of balance had to be observed, even in fights such as this, which is why it had waited. Now Seth and his troops would be late, and slightly tired due to them. The Goa’uld bowed to the First Evil in a form of submission, which enraged the small creature inside the host body, but it knew better than to bother lashing out at the First. The Goa’uld knew that the First was incapable of being hurt by anything that he could up with, despite his advanced technology. Besides, the First was the Goa’uld’s only hope of ever returning to the stars where he belonged.
“I am pleased that you could make it here, Seth,” the smirking form of Buffy Summers said, as she looked at the Goa’uld with contempt. When the First had first approached the parasite, it had appeared in the last host body that Seth had seen Ra use. Since then, the worm had learned its place, and the First had resumed using the form of the Slayer who, with the help of her friends, had made all of this darkness possible.
“I am pleased to be here, my lady. Have no fears, when the time comes I shall lead my soldiers and win this victory for you and have my revenge on these Tau’ri that would dare to try and challenge my supremacy.” The Goa’uld’s eyes began glowing with power, as it made its promise to his master.
“Cute parlor trick, but that doesn’t really impress me. So, how about you keep your eyes to yourself; all right?” The First asked.
“Good, now find a spot for your people before you report back here,” The First ordered the Goa’uld. “I have a few more preparations to make before it is time to cast the die for this fight.”
The Goa’uld nodded, and led its troops out.
The First then turned to one of the silent guards that stood there waiting for its orders. “Genin! Bring me the Wiccan and the various head warriors. It is time to collect on the debt the girl owes me.”
The demonic ninja bowed low to its current leader, as it disappeared into the shadows. It reappeared a few moments later, followed by the girl witch who hungered for the power that magic gave you if used in darkness. “Amy.”
The witch nodded. “The ninja said you needed something?” the woman asked, curious.
The First enjoyed playing with the girl. She, like most of the others, didn’t even know what was really going on; yet as long as she had power, she cared not. Most of them were so blinded by their needs for vengeance and power that they didn’t realize just what it was that they were preparing to help do. Voldemort understood, as did a couple of the Immortals, Ogun, and the Hand. The others were merely pawns in this game that was being played. The wand-waving wizard had proved exceptionally useful, when he had, with a wave of his wand, placed those few that had grown suspicious under the Imperius Curse, and made sure that they were firmly committed to the cause.
“Yes, it is time to fulfill your part of our bargain, and bring forth what I asked for. It is past time to add the last piece to my army.”
The witch nodded, as she watched the other figures walk into the room. Voldemort was trailed by his three advisors, while Juggernaut merely found a place to stand by himself. Ogun and the Jonin master of the Hand dropped silently to the ground from the rafters, while three large warlocks shimmered into view, and the group of Immortals walked through the door.
Amy waved her hands over a pentagram that had been drawn earlier for just this occasion. The witch gasped, as she felt the power of the portal. Taking the blood sample that she had, she began muttering in Latin. The blood popped out of the vial, and began circling the middle of the pentagram as it searched for a match. A bright flash of white light flooded the room, and a figure suddenly stood there before the First and its followers. The witch fell down a little wobbly as the surge of power died down.
The figure in the pentagram shook his head for a moment, and then looked around the room in surprise. “Who are all of you?” He asked, scowling at the people that surrounded him.
“Don’t worry about that for now.” The First said, walking up to the boy.
“Do you have any idea what you interrupted?” The figure asked, as it glared angrily at the First.
“I could care less right now. Actually, I have a bit of a proposition for you.” The First said, as it stalked toward the figure. This form had some decent sex appeal that easily captivated the boy in front of it. “I can give you a chance to prove which of your personalities is the greater being.”
The boy smirked at this. “What? You’re going to let me get a shot at Mr. Goody two shoes?”
“Yes, since you’re in another dimension, we can do that.”
“All I have to do is take care of him when the time is right then?”
The person smirked. “Lady, you got yourself a deal.”
“Good. These are the other people that will be fighting the various other people that will be in the fight, but your other self is up to you to handle.”
“Long as they don’t get in my way, I don’t think we’ll have any problems with that,” the young figure said, lowering his sunglasses down over his face. “Got anything to eat around here?”
“There is some food in one of the fridges. You just be ready for the fight that will be coming.”
“Gotcha,” the teen said arrogantly. “It’s not like the loser has a chance to take me on. I know how to use my powers; the idiot doesn’t have a clue what he’s capable of.”
The teen smirked, as he went to check the food supply.
“Now that we are all gathered here,” The First said, as Seth finally returned with two of his guards carrying staff weapons. “We can finally begin; the Slayer’s family and friends have finally gathered together, and the time has now come to finish them off. I will now hear your plans on how to defeat them.”
BTVS: Casa de Scoobie
Giles sighed, as he sat down in his chair. He looked at the pile of computer printouts that littered the table in front of him. Willow had managed to acquire the files easily enough, or so she said. She had seemed to be troubled by some of the difficulty with some of the protections that some of the files had on them. She wasn’t sure, but she said she was afraid that someone had actually managed to trace her signal on one of her forays. Giles understood that that was possible, but doubted it. Willow was a genius; when it came to the bloody machines, no one could touch her. Sipping from the cup of tea he had, he read from the overview on one part of the family. This report had been added onto over the years, having notes added onto the file by various people. He saw symbols for American Military, DEA, Revenuers, FBI, CIA, Historical Preservation Societies, and even NASCAR. There were even a few reports from other governments in there. These were not people that a person messed with lightly it seemed. He looked and found a brief summary of the family.
Family is extremely able, creative, and dangerous when provoked. Proceed in dealings with extreme caution. Best way to avoid problems is to stay off of their turf. Best way to ensure temporary cooperation is to threaten the revocation of parole terms. Susceptible to use of patriotic card to acquire their assistance in missions. DO NOT THREATEN FAMILY! Ignore all comments made by local law enforcement. All of them are dead shots with shotguns, small arms and bows and arrows.
Note: Arrows sometimes carry explosive charge.
Note: Do not get into car chase with any members of the family all members are top drivers.
Service Notes: Older of the boys is a trained marine, mechanic and boxer.
Known allies: Cooter Davenport, Cletus Hogg, Enos Strate, and Lulu Hogg.
Giles polished his glasses, before he reached for the next file. Surely none of the others would be as bad as that file, he assured himself. He smiled, as he popped open the next file, there was nothing unexpected in this one. He frowned briefly, as he looked at the name on the file. There was something that was oddly familiar at that last name. Setting the report down, he got one of his reference books out, and began searching for anything that might be helpful. He finally found what it was that he was searching for and felt dread climb up his gut. According to this book the name had changed over the years, but it was possible that the name was the line of the Warren family. The Watcher’s eyes widened in shock as he confirmed it. This meant that Buffy was connected to the Warren line. Why, this meant that Buffy’s magical potential could be far greater than he had ever thought possible. His memory flashed back to all of the times that Buffy had ever used magic. Yes a number of the signs for great potential had all been there, but she had never tried anything beyond the basics. She had never been overly confident in magical skills, preferring to rely on him, Willow, and Tara. And now, because of his blindness the Charmed Ones were here to help Buffy; not them, but Buffy.
Swallowing nervously, the Watcher picked up the next file, and almost sagged with relief at the normalcy to it. According to this, the family members in this file were normal people. There were a few comments about the boy, but it didn’t answer any of the questions that he had. Chief among them was how the young man had been able to catch Faith’s fists, and then swing her in the air and slam onto the hood of a car. There was nothing here that explained that, though it seemed like he had placed a number of people in a nearby psychiatric ward.
Connor Macleod had an odd file as well; it appeared that he had a bit of a habit of cutting the heads off of his opponents. The authorities had tried to pin him for these crimes, but there was never more than circumstantial evidence to point at him. The man was also questioned when he was in a car wreck that somehow killed a former police consultant, but left him unharmed.
The last file that he had was on the soldiers. Willow had told him she would look into Buffy’s other family later, but sincerely doubted that anyone else would bother coming here. For some reason he didn’t put much trust in that, since none of them had thought that any would come in the first place. Dawn had mentioned someone by the name of Scott, but that had been all the family that the girl could think of. Sighing, the watcher opened the file, and cursed at the list of names that were associated with this Colonel O’Neill.
There was no way that a man that traveled with people such as Daniel Jackson without having some need of the man’s vast knowledge of languages. The man had once been considered for a spot in the council when he had suddenly disappeared. It was speculated that despite his amusing claims of aliens, that some type of demon had probably found some use for him. Now a few years later, he found out instead of being dead, the archaeologist was a member of a top-secret military organization; top-secret at such a level that most of the people here had blacked out files. The level these people were hidden at was very high up, if Willow had been unable to clear the files up. All that he was able to see was names and past accomplishments, and even all of them weren’t readable. What had a man like Dr. Jackson gotten himself into? More importantly though, what had Buffy gotten them into? And when the dust finally settled, what would happen to all of them?
Buffy had never spoken of her family
The Watcher retrieved the bottle of good Scotch that he kept hidden in his desk drawer, placed it in front of him, and, eschewing a glass, took a healthy slug directly from the bottle.
“Is it that bad, G-man?” Xander asked curiously, as he collapsed into a chair beside the older man.
Giles merely slid the files and reference book over, and let the boy read.
The young man scowled at the letters for a moment after he was done reading, before he caught the bottle up and took a swig of his own. “To stupidity,” he said, taking another pull.
“I’ll drink to that.” The watcher said, grabbing the bottle back and taking another pull.