FicWad

AN: This chapter was written as a gift for a dear friend, who expressed an interest in a Spawnverse/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover. It had spoilers for that series, so be warned. The chapter doesn't NEED to be read and probably won't be referred to in any other chapters. Mostly it's for cracktastic fun.


**


They arrived on the night flight into Tokyo Bay, plane seemingly landing on water. It made her stomach knot up and her fingers dig into her arm rests for a moment before she realized they weren't going to crash. There was a runway beneath them, she told herself, nice and solid and-

"Can you believe they made this runway from trash? I can't believe it. Can you?" Willow babbled excitedly from the seat next to her.

A snort came from her left. "Hear it sinks by feet every so often. Not too bloody sturdy if you ask me."

"Guys, you're not helping." Buffy assumed her previous knot-and-dig position as the wheels hit debatably solid ground.

"What's the matter, Slayer? Didn't know you were afraid of flying," Spike drawled over the chirping voice of a flight attendant, scarred eyebrow arching slightly. He wouldn't hold her gaze for long, she knew, because he hadn't since he showed up at the New Council's door five months ago, after LA had been swallowed and the world had not ended.

"I'm /not/. Just...the landing part wigs me out." She pouted slightly and glared at the vampire. A hand settled on her shoulder and she turned her head.

Willow smiled brightly. "Aww, Buffy. Don't worry. Look! See, we already landed and no 'boom' or 'crash' or...other....bad...plane things," she trailed off but smiled on like a trooper.

"Right. No boom. So, what's the plan again?"

"At the moment? Mostly I think we get off the plane," Spike said and undid his seatbelt, blatantly ignoring the fact that the seatbelt light was still on. "Try to keep up."

Buffy punched his arm. "You're not even supposed to be here, Spike. You're supposed to be held up in a stuffy library researching stuff or training slayers, so....why is he here again?" The last part was directed towards Willow, who was grabbing her carry-on.

"Xander doesn't like raw fish, so he wouldn't come, and Andrew kept babbling about Godzilla and bee-shown-in." Her mouth quirked and she shrugged. "We should probably be grateful Spike offered."

Spike looked smug. Buffy huffed, getting out of her seat and stretching in the aisle before grabbing her own carry on bags. The vampire followed suite, moving with the flow of people as they made their way off the plane.

The airport was loud but not annoyingly so, different from any other airport Buffy had been in. Signs welcomed them in Japanese and English, colored fans turned lazily and lights seemed brighter after so many hours on a plane, making the entire place glow. She didn't understand a word of what was being said, was leaving that up to Willow and Spike, but it was easy for the trio to go with the flow anyways. It was natural, busy enough that there was no time to think only time to do. Go with the flow, improvise, learn the body language.

It was like a less-violent form of fighting.

They collected their suitcases with little hassle aside from Willow explaining all the technology used to keep track of baggage in such an organized manner. Apparently her and Kennedy had watched a program on it.

When they reached the street, Spike said "Now then, Red, what do we do next?"

Willow didn't look at them, interested on hailing a taxi. "I'd rather we talked about it at the hotel. Ears everywhere, you know?"

"Way I hear it, they'd hear us there too. Nasty buggers, those-"

"Cab!" Buffy exclaimed and ran towards one.

Spike let out an irritated sigh. "Right. Cab. Don't mind that I was speaking."

"I don't think she did," Willow offered.


They made it to the hotel with little difficulty. It was an amazingly Western place, as if they were in California again rather than half-way around the world. Only it was more polite and Buffy had never felt so not-short in her life.

"I'm liking this place. How 'bout you, Wills?"

"It's great. I wish we had more time here, you know, do some sight-seeing. But Giles would have a fit if he found us actually taking a break. Sometimes I worry for him."

Buffy grinned. "At least he doesn't wear tweed anymore." She paused, thoughtful. "Well, not everyday anyways. One step at a time."

"I don't know, Buffy. Sometimes I miss the innocent days when I thought he lived in the library and only wore tweed suits. Those were simple times."

"That was /high school/. We do not mourn the passing of those days. /Ever/," the blond woman emphasized.

There was a knock on the door. Peering through the peep hole (she didn't have to stand on her toes to reach!), Buffy saw Spike's platinum hair and opened the door. "Come on in. We're having a discussion."

"The plan?" The vampire asked.

"Giles's fashion sense."

"Poor bastard. Even Percy dressed better."

Willow blinked. "Percy?"

"Wesley..." Spike stared at the simple wood dresser for a moment, seeing something, remembering something from that year where good turned bad and bad seemed good but mostly there were patches of horrible grey and Buffy didn't know much about it, next to nothing, just that there was so much she would never learn. Then Spike looked her. "Right then. Plan?"

She motioned to the bed and sat, Willow on her own bed and Spike opting to sprawl in the only chair in the room. It didn't look comfortable. "Well, Giles gave us the basics before we left, right?" Her eyes flickered between her two companions. "Powerful guys with creepy powers. They kill. They're bad."

"And we're trying to hire them," Spike finished, pulling a cigarette out of his duster for the soul purpose of having something to do with his hands. "Why?"

He looked at Buffy.

Buffy looked at Willow.

Willow tried to look at both of them but found impossible, so she settled for reading the information Giles gave her before they left. "Well...uh..." The witch rifled through papers.

"Not that I have anything against these blokes. S'all the same to me," Spike continued on, slouching a bit more. "Just wondering, is all."

Buffy stared hard. "All the same? They..."

Spike raised his eyebrows for her to finish her sentence. She didn't. She was thinking of grey.

"...they...one of them has a coat like I did. Three seasons ago," she finished.

"Aaaand we're back to slaying fashion faux pas. This is what I call progress."

"Watch it, Captain Peroxide. You might be next."

Willow cleared her throat. Loudly. "Guys? Plan? Remember?" She gave her her Serious Face. "Look, Giles had me do some research on them. They're an assassin group made up of four men. From the sound of it, they're one of the best groups out there-"

"Group of killers," Buffy put in.

"-and they'll work for whoever is willing to pay the most. Giles says it doesn't matter to them which side their employer plays for, as long it benefits them in the end."

"Smart men," Spike said.

"Anyways, we did more research--which wasn't easy, let me tell ya--and noticed some odd things about them. They all had roots to this school in Austria called Rosenkreuz."

Spike muttered something about not speaking Nazi and asshole broody sires but no one paid attention to him.

"So we did more research." Willow was smiling and trying to hide it. She loved research, even if it made her want to tear her hair out sometimes. Discovering some key part always made her excited. "Rosenkreuz had had a run in with the original council before. Apparently trained a select group of people. Kids with certain talents. Psychic talents, I guess you'd say. Reading minds, seeing the future, moving things with the mind, setting people on fire with a glance."

Spike snorted. "Sure they were always the life of the party." His voice went a pitch higher. "'And for my next trick, I'll turn the neighbor's pooch into our dinner. Medium well good?'"

"Poor puppy," Willow exclaimed and looked sad. Then serious again. "You guys already knew our guys were all with the brain power. Literally. Giles told me not to mention Rosenkreuz until we got here though."

"Why?" Buffy shook her head. "Will, help me out here. Why are we here again, if not to stop them? I thought we were going to stop them. That's what Giles told me and now you say we're going to hire them?"

"We are, Buffy. Going to stop them, I mean. But we're going to try and stop them by hiring them."

"Buy out the neutral party before the other side can," Spike said slowly. "What's their score-sheet like?"

"Well, here's part of why we didn't mention the hiring part before," Willow said, he rway of apologizing. "They have a long history of working for the Underworld. Criminal organizations, corrupted political leaders, lawyers. We don't know if it's because they prefer that type or because that type is the type with the money. The thing is, and what brought our attention to them, is that fact that they helped save the world."

Buffy snorted. "Is everyone doing that nowadays? They get bored on a Friday night and decide to fight the good fight and save humanity for a change."

"Easy there, Slayer. You had the monopoly on saving the world for a long time. Gotta share the wealth eventually."

"Actually, Buffy, they did this back before you were a Slayer. The Council just didn't want anything else to do with them. They had enough power on their own. They contacted the group once but neither really wanted to get involved with the other."

Spike made his cigarette disappear and pulled out his light to fiddle with instead. "How'd they do it? Save the world. One of them wear some nifty jewelry and go 'poof'?"

"Not...quite. The people behind Rosenkreuz, the ones having these kids trained as, well, minions, they wanted to become immortal and take over the world. Schwarz, that's our group by the way, didn't want them to. I think they wanted it for themselves."

"Let me guess," Buffy said dryly. "They staged a little coup but it blew up in their face and they ended up saving everyone."

"You got it."

"I can't wait to have them on our team!" came the chipper, sarcastic reply.

"I know it doesn't sound good, Buffy, but-"

"But nothing, Willow! These guys sound like bad news. If you gave me some other info, some guarantee that they wouldn't turn on us, maybe I'd agree."

"They wouldn't." Spike's voice was even, calm, and it made Buffy look at him. He looked up and met her eyes. And held them. "They wouldn't, as long as we paid them more than the other players. It's how they operate, Buffy. It isn't about morals or being evil. It's about money."

"We don't have money."

"We have enough," Willow interjected, silently thanking the vampire for being her back up. "We have enough to employ them, if they agree. We have some groups supporting us, our own alliance, that are willing to pay too. If Schwarz agrees..."

Buffy threw her hands up. "Fine. Whatever. We'll go to their office."

"House, actually. They don't have an office. And no one we talked to would give us their number."

"They wouldn't. Anyone who knows their number isn't about to go sharing with the white hats. You run in those circles with scissors, you soddin well learn to be careful."

Buffy ran a hand through her hair. "How are we doing this then?"

"I tried hacking into their files, but there was nothing to go on and what there was was completely secured. I ended up doing a locating spell. I managed to get a business card off one of their clients. Blank, with just 'Schwarz' on it. You don't get one unless you already hired them before." The red-haired woman pulled out a map of the Tokyo area. One spot of it was highlighted. "They're here," she pointed "and that's where we're going tomorrow night."


They had the cab drop them off a block away. It was a residential area, a bit off from bustling business and tourist-ridden streets, rows of white houses with different colored roofs that all looked dull in the night. Lines of streetlamps lit their way, casting an eerie glow on Spike's hair. A few people that walked by stared at them as they passed, most pointedly did not stare. One girl ran up to them and said "My English is well, ne?" to which Willow had assured her it was.

When they reached a large two-story house, Willow told them to stop. "This is it, I think. I hope. Should we knock?"

"Have to get pass the gate to do that," Spike observed, hands stuffed into his duster pockets. He glanced around, rocking on the soles of his feet. "Don't suppose we could throw rocks at their windows and get their attention, can we?"

"And then serenade them," Buffy added with a smile. "Spike, you romantic, you."

"What can I say. I like tossing things." He leered. Buffy felt her ears turn pink.

"And what if it isn't the right house?"

"There's a sign near the door. A small one, hand-written. And it says "Schwarzhaus'." Spike gave her a wry look.

"Oh."

Willow glanced at the sky for help before marching forward. With a determined air, she swung open the gate, continued to march to the front door, raised her hand and-

Stared down at an auburn-haired girl. The girl stared back at her with odd gold eyes, hands clasped over the front of her ruffled black skirt. She cocked her head to side as Willow watched her, eyes flicking over to Buffy and Spike as they walked more cautiously towards the door.

"Hi," Willow said brightly, mind going over spells-just in case.

"Konnichi...eto...Hello!" the girl returned, equally brightly if more high-pitched.

Silence stretched on.

Cailin watched the three strangers intently. Her family didn't get many visitors, or any, really, and she wasn't quite sure what to do. Part of her was hoping they could come in and talk to her. Part of her was waiting for one of her family members to come take care of the matter.

The girl with hair that reminded her of Alex was talking. "I..uh..we're...is there anyone else home?"

Cailin smiled. "Oh, yes. There are. They're really busy at the moment, though, I think. At least, Da was moving Fi Fi into a new home for me. I'm not sure what the others were doing. They just said they were busy when I asked them to take care of Fi Fi for me. Poor Da always ends up doing it."

The tiny blond's mouth formed an 'O' shape and raised her eyebrows. The tiny blonde did much the same, only his mouth twitched like Uncle Schu's.

"Well, maybe I should introduce myself," the ginger-red girl finally said. "I'm Willow. This is Buffy, and Spike."

Cailin, after years of playing princess, curtseyed perfectly. "I'm-"

"Cailin, take it back! I swear your pet just winked at me which wouldn't be so bad if it actually had..." Brett walked into the hall, jar in hand. "...eyes." He finished. "Who are they?"

"Willow, Buffy, Spike," Cailin chirped.

Brett walked forward, handing Fi Fi over to his cousin before crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame. "Yeah? That's their names. But who are they?"

"Is that a heart?" Buffy blurted.

"Yeah," Spike said, with a look on his face that seemed to suggest he was reliving fond memories.

'Oh...my god."

"Fi Fi," Cailin corrected and held her pet out, before hugging the jar and crooning. "My Da gave her to me."

Brett raised an eyebrow. "I thought it was a him?"

"That was yesterday."

The trio stood watching, not quite sure what to do. Spike decided to take action. "Look," he said, "we're here to talk to the man in charge, junior. Is he here or not, cause I'd rather not be wasting my bloody time while you debate what sex a heart is."

"What he said," Buffy added. "Only without the British part."

Brett peered at them. Dad, you and my Schuldig should get down here. Looks like we've got some company he sent out to his father's mind. At the same time, he was prodding the strangers' minds.

The one with red hair turned a glare on him.

Then he felt two familiar presences behind him and smirked. He practically felt his Schuldig doing the same.

Buffy was wondering if the redheads were in any way related to Spike.

Brad Crawford stepped forward, making Brett and Cailin take a few steps back. Glancing coolly at the little group, he ran over the vision he had had earlier that day. "Crawford," he said simply. "I believe you have business you would like to discuss with me and my teammates. I expect you have something to make this worth our while."

"Money," Spike drawled. "Loads of it, back at our hotel. Lined up in suitcases and just waiting to be exchanged in a dramatic midnight meeting."

"I like this one. He's feisty."

"Schuldig..."

"Ja, ja." The German's smirk widened and he took the hint, shutting his mouth in favor of doing some quick rifling about. Enough to give them an upper hand. He pushed the info towards Crawford.

"Look, can we come in? Cause the shoes I'm wearing are stylish but not so much with the comfort," Buffy snapped.

"Buffy Summers. Born and raised in California," Crawford observed aloud and took a slice of pleasure in seeing the girl's hazel eyes widen then narrow.

"Gee, are you part of my fanclub?"

Schuldig snickered. "Ah. East Coast-West Coast rivalry still lives."

"A vampire slayer of admirable strength," Crawford went down his mental list. "Closed a Hellmouth nearly two years ago. Has a thing for..." Crawford blinked and glanced at Schuldig, who shrugged.

"Girl's got a taste for dead things. I thought it was interesting." Blue eyes examined the blonde vampire, who scrutinized the telepath in return. "Not that I can blame her, really. Those cheekbones aren't natural."

Spike widened his stance, like he would if were about to take on someone. Only this wasn't a psychical battle. "A sight more natural than your hair, I'd wager. Dye it yourself, do you?"

"Dye?" Schuldig had a slightly manic gleam in his eye, like he did that time Brett had snapped all the bristles off his favorite brush. The two teenagers behind him took another step back just as Schuldig reached down and started undoing his belt. "I'll show you dyed," he snarled.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Willow waved her hands about, eyes wide. "No, that's okay! Ew don't need a show! We believe you, honest. Funny Spike, with his talking and talking...ness. Ha..ha....uh...oh! Business. We're here on it. Can we please come in?"

"Very well." Crawford turned sharply and headed towards the living room. He wouldn't show these people the rest of the house's layout and put the family at risk should anything unforeseeable happen.

"Do come in. It is vonderful to have you here, /ja/?" Schuldig half-smirked, half-sneered as he made a sweeping bow. He saw Brett roll his eyes and Cailin giggle.

"Takes a bit more than that to get me in your house, Red."

"And less to get in your pants, from what I'm seeing. Memories are such wonderful things." Schuldig shifted, one hip cocked and head tilted the side so fiery hair fell over one eye.

The two blue-eyed men looked at each other with near identical expressions. Smirk, sneer, narrow eyes. Buffy wasn't sure which one she wanted to hit more. Huffing, she pushed past and followed Crawford, Willow quickly trailing behind her.

"Boss man says you can come in though, Spike," she heard from behind her.

"Swell."


The living room was a large white room with black leather couches and polished hard wood floors. The obscenely large television was on, showing a slew of Japanese people doing questionable things on a game show. Buffy found herself missing Jeopardy.

"In the form of a question," she mumbled to herself.

"Pardon?" Crawford asked, not looking particularly interested.

"Nothing. So...you're American right? Haven't had a conversation with one of those in a while. Well, except for Willow and Xander and other Americans..."

"You contradict yourself, Miss Summers."

"Yeah."

She looked around, saw Willow doing the same. The girl and boy from before trooped in, the boy pulling Cailin towards one of the couches. "Gackt's not on 'til later anyways," he was saying.

"Kitty!" Cailin giggled.

"Take a seat, Miss Summers, Miss Rosenberg." Crawford motioned towards the other couch and the women took their cue.

"It's a lovely home," Willow babbled. "I love the floors. Very modern."

Buffy folded her arms. "And non-assassin-y."

"We used to have chains on the wall, lovely manacles, but what with the children and all. So mischievous when they're young," Schuldig said as he walked, or strutted, really, into the room with a suspicious Spike. "And all our better weapons are in the torture chamber." He took a seat next to Brett, leaning forward with his chin resting on one hand. The other hand waved lazily through the air. "Can't go overboard, you know?"

We have a torture chamber? the telepath heard Cailin ask.

Brett replied with I think he means when he sings in the shower...

Across from them, Spike was eyeing the television with a type of worship known to all materialistic beings.

Schuldig clucked his tongue. "So, can I offer you folks anything to drink? Coffee, booze, blood. Do we have blood?"

"Da saved some from that priest. He was going to pour it on the garden and kill the weeds for me," Cailin murmured.

Buffy cast Willow a Look. "No, thanks. We're fine."

"Then may I again ask why you are here? Exact purpose, if you don't mind." Crawford turned off the television and crossed his own arms. It seemed to be en vogue at them moment.

Willow went into business mode. "We want to hire Schwarz. We work for the New Council of Europe. I believe you've dealt with our predecessors in the past."

"Yeah. You're prettier," Schuldig grinned.

"We think it would beneficial to both the council and your group to work for us. Our benefactors and allies are also interested in your services. The work may not fit your norm, but the pay would be the same. Only the targets would differ."

"I see." Crawford turned his head towards Schuldig, making his glasses flash.

"We work against demons and more powerful or dangerous individuals and groups. Dark witches, warlocks, politicians that sold their soul to the devil."

"And then turn into giant snakes," Buffy added.

"I thought you had your own super team to fight things that go bump in the night?" Brett asked, shifting through the information he and his Schuldig had gathered. "Are you not good enough? Slowing down in your old age?"

Spike and Buffy bristled at the comment.

"I used to eat annoying brats like you," Spike growled and leaned forward menacingly.

Brett sniffed, eyes cold like his father's. "I know. They were probably easier pickings though."

"You cocky little bugger, I ought to-"

"He poses a valid question," Crawford interrupted. Brett beamed. "Though he retains his father's lack of tact."

Schuldig rolled his eyes. "The arrogance is all you, buddy."

"Wait? What? Huh?" Buffy looked around, shook her head, and made a 'moving on' gesture. "My fighting skills are still top notch and my reflexes are more than great and you're stalling."

The knife embedded itself near her foot a second later, making the trio start. "What the fuck?" Spike snarled and jumped to his feet, duster whirling and eyes glinting yellow.

Cailin was clapping. "Do it again, Da."

"I'd rather you didn't, Farfarello," Crawford said dryly. "We just had these floors put in."

"They don't need us, Oracle. Lamb's got a plan. I won't follow."

"Bloody Irishmen," Spike raved. "Always a bloody bogtrotter making a mess of everything and talking in bleedin' riddles." He reached down and yanked the knife out of the floor. "You should be more careful where you leave your toys, mate."

Cailin slid off the couch and ran to the vampire. "It isn't nice to take someone's toy," she said simply. "It makes them sad."

"Or seriously pissed off," Brett commented.

Spike glared at her, huffed, looked at the ceiling, and handed over the knife. "Women."

The girl smiled and ran to her father, clutching her treasure to her chest. Farfarello half-smiled and took the knife from her before resting a hand on her shoulder. "Thank ye, princess."

"Enough." Buffy stood, fists clenched and chin raised. "Look, I don't know what you freaks' problem is but this isn't very difficult. You wanna work for us or not? Cause really? I'm about ready to kick some ass." She raised her eyebrows.

Schuldig unfurled from his draped position on the couch. "Of course it's 'no', Goldilocks. It was no from the beginning."

"What?"

"While we wouldn't object to taking on a job or two from your Council," Crawford explained, "I'm afraid your belief that we can be completely bought is foolish on your part. No doubt you would try and find some way to keep us in your pocket, so to speak. Obviously, we can't allow that."

"We're no one's bitches," Schuldig elaborated.

Crawford continued, "Our deal, should we agree, would cause no small amount of damage to our reputation among our normal clientele."

"I don't understand," Willow said. "If you knew you were going to say no, why did you let us in? How did you even..." she trailed off, remembering the reports on them. Her eyes widened. "You knew about this entire meeting beforehand."

"Of course."

"/Duh/."

"So why let us in?" Buffy repeated Willow's question. "Why make us come all the way to you?"

"We don't want you as an enemy, sweetie," Schuldig drawled. "We want nothing to do with your council, in fact, because we know how they work even if you don't. We have our chat, leave you with no doubts, and don't cross paths again. If we do...well, no grudge."

"No grudge? The albino threw a knife at her," Spike argued.

"She's had worse."

"Fine. I guess we hoped for too much from a bunch of killers. Spike, Willow, we're done here. Let's go. I have the urge to patrol." Buffy stormed pass them all, out of the room, and a moment later they heard the door slam open.

"I hope she dinna put a hole in the wall," Farfarello muttered.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, Miss Rosenberg, but I'm sure your Council will understand the situation quite well."

Willow nodded, face hard. "They might." She headed out and Spike followed her to the door before turning to face them again.

He pointed at Schuldig. "Dyed," he stated, "and your nose is crooked." With those parting words, he turned and left.

Schuldig seethed, one hand unconsciously rising to feel along his nose.

"Dad, that wasn't the only reason, was it?" Brett asked, looking almost disappointed.

"Partly. Not the whole reason, of course. The art of war, Brett."

"Know your enemy."

"And stay one step ahead."

Behind them, Schuldig was sulking. "My nose isn't really crooked, is it, Far? You would have told me, right?"

"If ye tilt yer head to the side, it looks right."