FIC: Alien End-Game (6/?)
"I should go with you," Kennedy insisted.
Giles resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Bloody Slayers, it seemed
pig-headedness was a trait in every single bleedin' one of
them. "My dear girl," he starchy replied, "I'm quite capable of
looking after myself."
The diminutive beauty glared up truculently. "The Groosalugg," the
heiress thumbed over her shoulder towards the Deeper Well, "said I
was your Protector!" Giles opened his mouth in a protest. "Willow
would want me to protect you."
Ah, Giles grimaced, a woman's most potent weapon, emotional
blackmail. Bugger, he was only a mere man and as such totally
defenceless. "Very well," he grumpily conceded. He was momentarily
dazzled by the heiress' smile. "You'll drive down with me, then
grab a car, and drive back on your own. Who do you want to lead the
Slayers in your absence?"
"Athena," was the unsurprising reply. Not only was the Greek Slayer
Kennedy's best Slayer friend, she was the second oldest, and a
fellow Council-discovered Potential, meaning her training was not in
"Very well," Giles nodded. "Then go and tell her." The young woman
turned away. "And Kennedy?" The beautiful brunette stared
enquiringly at him. "Thank you. Willow would be extremely touched
by your loyalty."
The journey to the near-by village was a nail-biting affair. They'd
driven through the narrow, winding country lanes leading to it
without lights for fear of alerting enemy patrols, eyes straining
through the darkness. Twice they'd been forced to pull over as
Death Gliders flew overhead.
Upon reaching the village Giles parked up outside just the sort of
country pub he'd have loved to spend an afternoon in. If Andrew
would leave him alone for long enough of course. Smartsville was a
typically rustic country village, complete with thatched roofed
cottages, carefully-tended gardens, and even a communal green. He
shook his head as he climbed out.
Giles started at his companion's whisper. In the village's dark
silence it was easy to forget he wasn't alone. He looked towards
his companion. "I was just thinking that even if we win, nothing
will ever be the same again."
"When we win we'll just have to make everything better than it was."
Giles smiled slightly at the Slayer's spirited reply. "Quite right,
dear," he murmured before turning to the other cars'
occupants. "We'll need SUVs or People Carriers, spread out, but
stay in eye range of your partners."
It took almost half an hour and him breaking into four garages to
find a suitable car, a dark green, 3 year old People
Carrier. "Excellent," Giles beamed.
"Oh bugger." Giles started to turn to face the quintet of aliens
behind them, hands rising in supplication.
Before he could order her not to, the always reckless Slayer was
blurring into action, drawing her two knives and flinging them at
the two nearest Jaffas. Both knives thudded into the invaders'
throats, but the second got off a shot that seared into the beauty's
chest, twisting her around and sending her crashing to the ground
like a puppet's whose strings had been cut. "Yooooowwww!"
"Bastards!" All thoughts of biding his time fled at the Slayer's
screech. Leaping forward, he cannoned a left hook into the nearest
Jaffa's mouth. Even as he drew back to slam a follow-up right cross
into the alien's mouth, a pain exploded in the back of his head.
Head swimming, he stumbled down to one knee. Before he had chance to
react, the staff weapon crashed into the back of his head again and
he fell forward, face bouncing off the wet tarmac.
Faith grinned as she watched Xander joke with Dana and Rona. He was
so damn good with them, so caring. And, her smirk widened, he was
hers. A for real great guy, nothing fancy, not rich, or wicked
smart, or movie-star handsome, but a decent man who tried his
hardest by the people he cared for. Damn, she was so sick of
strutting assholes who thought the best way to get a chick was by
treating her like shit.
Her smirk faded as she remembered the last two days, the frantic
journey to Chicago to find Spawn. There had been more than the
occasional close call with Jaffa land and air patrols, but that
tension had been nothing next to being cooped up with her pop having
to restrain her urge to punch her fist through his face while he
stared at her like he was a desert nomad and she was an oasis. If
the fucker was looking for salvation, she sure as hell wasn't gonna
"I saw you kissing Xander before."
"Oh for fuck's sake," Faith muttered under her breath. First pops,
then his best friend, and now his main squeeze. Who next? His
freakin' Sunday School teacher? Faith didn't bother to turn towards
the blonde. "Look," she drawled. "I had enough wicked step-fathers
growing up. I really don't need a wicked step-mon now I'm all woman
"General O'Neill is a fine man," the older woman didn't miss a beat
at Faith's faked yawn. "All he needs is a chance. He's really
"He's really hurting?" Faith spun to face the Colonel, the last of
her patience evaporating. "He's really hurting?" Faith jabbed a
finger in the other woman's face. "What about all the Christmases
and birthdays he wasn't there for? What about all the times the
other kids laughed at me for not having a pop? What about all the
times I thought I was the most alone person in the world? What
about all the times he should have been there to protect me!" Faith
finished with a scream. Why did this happen now? Why not twenty
years ago when she needed him? "You stay the fuck out of my way
unless," she snatched the shocked soldier's P90 out of her
hands, "ya want this shoving up your ass!" Realising that everyone
was looking at her, she dropped the gun at the other woman's feet,
and looked challengingly around, her gaze stopping at her biological
father. "You, you're a fuckin' sperm-donor and that's it! Ya ain't
got any claim on me," she looked over to Xander and the
others. "They're my family, not you. And I don't want any more
family, `specially those who turn up two decades too late. Once
this is over, I see ya again, it's the beating of your life as a
receipt for all the stuff you weren't there for."
"Who is this Buffy?" Illyria demanded.
Connor shrugged. "A Slayer dad dated before Cordelia. Dad talks
about her, but I zone out. Listening to him talk about her is the
greatest known cure for insomnia," the hybrid shrugged again. "Seen
photos, okay I suppose, but not a patch on Cordelia."
"And this Riley?" Illyria continued. "Who is he?"
Connor looked towards the apparently military officer. "That I
don't know," the vampire's offspring admitted.
Illyria stalked over to the vampire slouched against a half-
destroyed wall. "Your grief flows off you like a waterfall," she
snapped. "Build a memorial to your mate with the bodies of your
The half-breed briefly changed to his demonic face before
straightening and nodding. "Yeah," he agreed. "That sounds like a
plan. Riley, let's go!"
Kennedy groaned as she awoke, soft fingers trailing down her
face. "Are you alright?" Lady Croft whispered.
For a second luxuriated in the beautiful woman's touch. And then
she jerked as she flashed back to the fight. "Giles?" she
frantically looked around as she struggled to a sat position.
Frank Martin crouched down beside Lady Croft. "We thought you split
"No." Kennedy's eyes widened as realisation hit. "We need to find
him and fast!"
Kennedy tried to struggle to her feet, but although her wound had
already begun to heal, Martin was able to place his hands on her
shoulders and force her weakened body back down. The shaven-headed
man stared down at her, apparently unfazed by her wilting
stare. "We need to get you some medical treatment. If you weren't
a Slayer, you'd probably be dead or dying." Kennedy's protests were
ignored as the man humiliatingly scooped her into his arms and
carried her into the waiting vehicle.
The journey back to the others was a grim affair. Every twist and
turn of the country road sent waves of pain crashing through her,
but the physical hurt was unimportant next to the crushing knowledge
she'd failed Willow.
By the time their convoy reached their base her physical pain had
eased but her guilt had changed to a deep despondency. She allowed
herself to be helped but not carried out of the car by a solicitous
The king strode into view, Galahad and Lancelot flanking him as
always. The monarch looked around. "Such marvellous ve-." Kennedy
had to resist flinching when the legend's eyes hardened. "Where is
I lost him," Kennedy stutteringly admitted.
"Lost him?" Arthur's sword hissed as he drew it. "You were
attacked?" Too intimidated by the legendary monarch and guilt-ridden
by her failure to speak, Kennedy could only manage a nod. "And yet
"How do you know?" Bond demanded, the secret agent's tone clearly
sceptical, even as her eyes shot up to stare at the centuries-old
Arthur's eyes snapped to the British spy. "He is my summonser, I
would know it it was otherwise." The king turned his searching gaze
back to her, eyes boring into her soul. "Will you join us in
searching for the man you are foresworn to protect?"
"We have our orders-."
"Orders!" The monarch cut off Bond with an impatient shake of his
head. "Orders are unimportant next to the principles I built my
kingdom on, the virtues of honour and loyalty." Again the legendary
warrior turned to her. "Will you join us?" Kennedy nodded. "Ah,"
the king smiled. "You have spirit, lass. You remind me of fair
Gwen. Come, we will march now!"
"Uh," Kennedy raised a hesitant hand. "We could take the car?"
* * *
"Maybe I should speak to her?"
Jack didn't bother to look up from his console at Daniel's
suggestion. He didn't have to ask who `her' was. "You're a great
negotiator, Daniel, but you'd have more joy brokering a Tok'Ra
"Maybe if you give her time
"Time?" Jack turned to his friend. "She's had plenty of that.
Twenty-three years of it to build up a big hate for me."
They turned to the left at the sound of gravel crunching. Jack
looked up from his seat to see his daughter's Watcher and apparently
new boyfriend staring down frostily. Jack winced. Just how much
had the one-eyed man heard?
"We're heading for the suburbs he was known to patrol and looking
for signs of him attacking Jaffa patrols," Daniel replied in his
trademark reasonable tone.
Which failed to defrost the one-eyed man's gaze in the
slightest. "That's it?" he demanded. Jack nodded. The young man
shook his head and snorted. "American military strategising in
action. Gotta love it!" the youth turned on his heel and walked off.
Daniel looked expectantly at him. "What?" Jack snapped. The
archaeologist looked towards the departing man. "I don't suppose
I'll get any peace otherwise. And for the record, I hope you're not
going to nag like this when we're married!" Sighing slightly, he
rose and hurried after the younger man, while all the time wondering
what he was going to say. Finally he settled on banal
praise. "Your record as a demon hunter is very impressive,
especially considering your lack of formal training or special
"Look," the young man turned to face him, his face older than anyone
his age should be. "I've had enough of people trying to use me to
get what they want. Faith's my Slayer," a look of wonder flickered
across the Sunnydaler's face, "my girl. If she doesn't want you,
then what she says goes. And if," Jack had to stop himself from
flinching when the younger man's eye blazed, "you hurt her, your
tame Jaffa, the whole air force, hell the entire military won't be
able to stop me dismembering you."
"Damn it," Jack muttered as the young man turned and walked
away. "I don't want to hurt her. I just want to get to know her."
"This prison ship," Angel spoke distractedly, just wanting to keep
his mind off the hollow pain inside him. "Why do the goa'uld use
this for all the super-powered types? They don't seem the merciful
type." Angel cast a look out of the window, staring bleakly at the
crushed buildings, scattered fires, and corpses littering the
wasteland. "And logically speaking, these people are the sort you'd
kill first, not keep alive."
His question was directed at Riley but it Master Bra'tac who
answered. "You are correct," the pock-marked Jaffa replied. "A
wise warrior slays their most powerful opposition at the start of
the battle, when they themselves are at the strongest. But the
goa'uld are an arrogant people, and a parasite race that are
constantly searching for better, stronger hosts. They will
doubtless be experimenting on your world's heroes to see if there is
anyway they can be made suitable for implantation, utilising their
powers without losing control they crave."