Life is a journey.

At work musings

2009-11-12T01:37:36Z

I don't know when in Sesame Street it was established that Big Bird was eternally a six year old child, but I recently saw a 3rd season Muppet Show Episode with him on it. Miss Piggy tried to hit him, Gonzo hit on him, and his duet with the guest star was a love song and ended with him putting a collar around her neck and leading her around the stage.

Disturbing.

The Spell Will Never Truely Be Broken. A Godspell fan-fic.

2009-05-13T01:01:37Z

The Spell Will Never Be Truly Broken
By Benji: The Vampire Confuser

Based on Godspell by David Greene and John-Michael Tebelak.

“Day by day, day by day.” She sang under her breath as she made her way through the brush to the rusted old fence looming ahead of her. “Oh dear Lord, three things I pray.”

32 years. It had been 32 years since that day. That one, unforgettable, incredible day. 32 years since she’d last stepped foot in New York City. So much had changed. The twin towers were gone now, the cab driver who she’d been disappointed to see was not the man she’d met before, told her that even four years later he still wasn’t used to not seeing them.
She’d danced on the roof of one of those towers, once upon a time. At least, she hoped she had.

The tour had commenced the following week. And she hadn’t been back since. Life first as a dancer, now as a teacher had taken her to all corners of the world. Far from here. And part of her had been glad. For she’d been afraid. Afraid of what she might find, or not find, if she returned.

Where were you? The others had asked. She’d merely smiled to herself, and told them she’d gone for a walk to unwind.

Her hand trembled as she grasped the old gate. It screeched in protest as she pulled it open. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the yard.

Whatever she found, she would always be grateful to the mysterious men she’d met that day. Even if they were nothing but figments of her imagination.

In the grueling days of rehearsal, she’d begun to doubt. Not only her own talent, but if dancing was truly what she wanted to do with her life. But she’d returned from her unexpected pilgrimage full of new life, and inspiration. And the joy of her chosen profession reborn in her heart.

She gasped, tears coming to her eyes, her hand rising to her mouth. It was overgrown, the paint was chipped and faded. But it was real. The evidence stood before her, cracked and crumbling with age. But there was the car, repainted silver with rainbows. There was the sunburst on the garage door. And there was the door they’d used as a table. When they’d recreated the last supper.

How was it possible? Where had the others gone? Had that really been John the Baptist and Jesus? And in the end, did it really matter?

She’d never considered herself a religious woman. Not before, or since that day. But something had happened that day. Someone, or something had chosen to touch her that day. And she lifted her face to the sun, closing her eyes, and simply breathed. Wherever they were, she hoped the others knew what she knew. The joy of life. And that the spell cast over them that day was still there, in their hearts.

The End

Fringe!! Help my friend out here, watch the vid. It's about Fringe.

2009-01-21T03:03:43Z

Original Short Screenplay

2008-11-09T23:24:28Z

EATING CONTEST

YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT

BY

BEN CHURCH

EXT. DIRT ROAD -- AFTERNOON

The sun shines brightly down on the quiet country road. A breeze rustles the leaves in the trees and stirs up a dust devil or two.

A young woman, dressed in a blood stained sundress stumbles onto frame. She appears disoriented and frightened. Her face is hidden by her hair.

The camera then travels down the road a piece to an old rusted mailbox, hanging open. Up the drive and we find:

EXT. TALBOT FARM -- AFTERNOON

The farm is a bit of a mix between the two stereo typical country homes. There are a few broken down rusted heaps of metal scattered about, but the house and barn themselves are in good repair. There is a pen for pigs and a sizable and well kept garden. The lowing of cows reveals the presence of more livestock. The overall impression is one of self sufficience (there's a well and a windmill, now running water or electricity), but comfort and cleanliness.

Out of the back door young woman emerges, wearing an old fashioned dress and bonnet. ANNETTE She's carrying a laundry basket and takes it to a washtub.

We get our first impression that something is very wrong here when she takes the laundry out of the basket and submerges it in the washtub. They have blood on them.

She begins to scrub as the barn door opens and a handsome, but creepy man comes out CALVIN, carrying something rolled up in a tarp.

CALVIN
Not much meat on this one.

ANNETTE
What did you expect from a city girl? They're all anorexic or bulemic or what have you. Do we have enough?

CALVIN
Naw, gonna have to go out again.

ANNETTE
Well don't take too long, you know how Ma worries.

Calvin takes the tarp to the pig pen and unrolls it, dumping the butchered body of a young woman into the pig pen.

CALVIN
Slops on piggies!

INT. BARN

The inside of the barn is a sharp contrast to the outside. It is dark, dirty, and scary. It is more a slaughter house than anything else.

Tied and hanging by her wrists is a teenage girl, gagged and beaten. She whimpers as a shadow falls over her.

JEBEDIAH, an inbred, deformed, and not quite right, giant of a man approaches wearing a blood stained apron. He holds a butcher knife in one hand, and with the other, removes the gag from her mouth.

The girl, SARAH starts to scream, but he covers her mouth with his surprisingly clean hand. The Talbots have a thing about sanitation you see.

JEBEDIAH
Hsh! Ma don't like a lot of noise. You make noise and I gotta punish ya.

SARAH
Please, please let me go-

Jebediah belts her across the face. She spits blood and begins to cry. Her crying is choked off as he grabs her by the throat, and then, after taking a surreptitious look around, begins to rape her.

EXT. DIRT ROAD

Calvin drives down the road in the truck. Up ahead he spots the young woman from earlier, stumbling along. He smiles.

CALVIN
There you are.

INT. BARN

Jebediah is holding Sarah still with one hand around her neck, and gripping the handle of the knife buried in her side. She is still trying to scream. As he gazes lovingly at her, we

FADE INTO

A flashback scene, still inside the barn, but there is a different girl this time. The young woman from the road, is tied much like Sarah is, but she's in better condition.

As Jebediah sharpens the knife, she comes to, and quickly takes stock of the situation.

When he turns around, she shoots him a look of pure lust and desire, and he is stopped in his tracks.

YOUNG WOMAN
Oh, god, you're huge!

JEBEDIAH
Uh...

YOUNG WOMAN
(smiling seductively)
Never have a woman talk to you like this before?

JEBEDIAH
...No...

YOUNG WOMAN
What can I say, I'm a sucker for a big, hard man. Come here.

He obliges, looking quite shell shocked.

YOUNG WOMAN
(whispering)
Closer.

Jebediah comes closer, mere inches from her. She begins rubbing one foot against his leg.

YOUNG WOMAN
I want to touch you. Please, untie me so I can touch you. You need it.

Jebediah nods shyly, and unties her. Then stabs her, his idea of foreplay.

The young woman screams, and falls back. Her ploy has worked though, she's free. She turns and dashes for the nearby cutting board, Jebediah walking after her like so many big muscular scary guys do.

He reaches her just in time to get a slash across the chest from a cleaver. Despairing, he looks at her with betrayal. She slashes again, and he stumbles to his knees and she turns to flee, but he swipes out with his knife, catching her in the thigh. Bleeding profusely, she stumbles out of the barn.

INT. BARN

Back in the present, Jebediah begins to take out his anger on Sarah, stabbing her repeatedly in a few obscene places before finally slitting her throat, and tossing her to the floor.

He turns to the work bench and picks up the cleaver.

TIGHT ON

Sarah's face, as she bleeds out and dies, her eyes closing. Her face takes on an almost relieved expression as her breathing stops. A moment later, her eyes snap open.

EXT. DIRT ROAD

Calvin stops the truck not far from the young woman and gets out, swaggering.

CALVIN
Well, well, well. If it isn't the little tease. You hurt Jeb's feelin's darlin'.

The young woman freezes as if in shock and surprise.

CALVIN
That's right darlin'. You thought you could get away didn't ya?

He approaches her and reaches out to grab her arm. Suddenly she turns, and her dead eyes stared at him hungrily. He barely has time to be surprised before she seizes his wrist and takes a bite out of his bicep.

CALVIN
Aaaaaaahhh!!! Bitch!

He backhands her savagely, sending her sprawling. Stumbling a bit, he presses a hand to his wound. He grimaces in pain.

CALVIN
Damnit I hate irony...

He's reaching for the shotgun in the passenger seat when the young woman tackles him. Calvin begins to scream as we

CUT TO:

INT. BARN

Jebediah stares at the cleaver, and behind him, Sarah sits up, more blood spilling from her throat. Noiselessly, she stands and turns towards him.

EXT. BARN

Annette looks up sharply as Jebediah's screams begin. The camera is tight on her as she calls out.

ANNETTE
Jeb?! Jeb are you alright?

She rises, and the camera pulls back to reveal the man with a half eaten face and tattered clothes, with an upraised machete. He brings it down and

CUT TO: BLACK.

EXT. TALBOT FARM -- LATER

Credits roll, as zombies begin to crowd up to the farm house. In the pig pen, a zombie who's legs have been mostly devoured by the pigs, sits placidly chowing down on one of the pigs.

The Silent Strength of Stones

2008-09-16T23:24:13Z

Does anyone know this book? And if so, do you know if they ever reveal the main character's mom's name?

Changes in Latitudes

2008-08-04T15:42:41Z

Well, I have moved. I've still got stuff to move into my new place, like, furniture, but I now live somewhere else.

And, it's scary. I like the people I'm living with, but we've only been visitin' friends before now. I'm not in any immediate danger of going bankrupt, but I'm worried about finding a job that A)pays enough, B) I can stand. Or just finding a job period.

Still, I think this was the right thing to do, and the right time. Wish me luck. Or send money. Yeah send money, that's what I need, not luck.

Meme!

2008-07-09T18:15:18Z

from ladybug218:
by way of bellatemple

01. Bold what's true.
02. Leave plain what's false.
03. Add one of your own at the end.

001. I miss somebody right now.
002. I watch more tv than I used to.
003. I love olives.
004. I love sleeping.
005. I own a home.
006. I wear glasses or contact lenses.
007. I love to play video games.
008. I've done something illegal.
009. I've watched porn movies.
010. I have been in a threesome.
011. I have been the psycho-ex in a past relationship.
012. I like my handwriting.
013. I have acne-free skin.
014. I like and respect Al Sharpton.
015. I curse frequently.
016. I have changed a lot mentally over the last year.
017. I have a hobby.
018. I've been to another country.
019. I carry my knife/razor everywhere with me.
020. I'm really, really smart.
021. I've never broken anyone else's bones.
022. I have a secret that I am ashamed to reveal.
023. I love rain.
024. I'm paranoid at times.
025. I would get plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free of cost, and scar-free.
026. I need money right now.
027. I love sushi.
028. I talk really, really fast sometimes.
029. I have fresh breath in the morning.
030. I have semi-long hair.
031. I have lost money in Las Vegas.
032. I have at least one brother and/or sister.
033. I was born in a country outside of the U.S.
034. I shave my legs.
035. I have a twin.
036. I couldn't survive without Caller I.D.
037. I like the way that I look.
038. I have lied to a good friend in the past 6 months.
039. I know how to do cornrows.
040. I am usually pessimistic.
041. I have mood swings.
042. I think prostitution should be legalized.
043. I think Britney Spears is pretty.
044. I have cheated on a significant other.
045. I have a hidden talent.
046. I'm always hyper no matter how much sugar I have.
047. I've been sexually intimate with fewer than ten people.
048. I am currently single.
049. I have kissed someone of the same sex.
050. I enjoy talking on the phone.
051. I practically live in sweatpants or PJ pants.
052. I love to shop.
053. I would rather shop than eat.
054. I would classify myself as ghetto.
055. I'm bourgeoisie and have worn a sweater tied around my shoulders.
056. I'm obsessed with my LJ, blog, etc.
057. I don't hate anyone.
058. I'm a pretty good dancer.
059. I don't think Mike Tyson raped Desiree Washington.
060. I'm completely embarrassed to be seen with my mother.
061. I have a mobile phone.
062. I watch MTV on a daily basis.
063. I have passed out drunk in the past 6 months.
064. I have never been in a real relationship before.
065. I've rejected someone before.
066. I currently have a crush on someone.
067. I have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.
068. I want to have children in the future.
069. I have changed a diaper before.
070. I've had the cops called on me before.
071. I bite my nails.
072. I am a member of the Tom Green fan club.
073. I'm not allergic to anything deadly.
074. I have a lot to learn.
075. I have dated someone at least 10 years older or younger.
076. I plan on seeing Ice Cube's newest "Friday" movie.
077. I am very shy around the opposite sex.
078. I'm online 24/7, even as an away message.
079. I have at least 5 away messages saved.
080. I have been rejected by someone.
081. I have made a move on a friend's significant other in the past.
082. I own the "SOUTH PARK" movie.
083. I have avoided work to play on LJ/blog.
084. When I was a kid I played "the birds and the bees" with a neighbor or chum.
085. I enjoy country music.
086. I love my best friend.
087. I think that Pizza Hut has the best pizza.
088. I watch soap operas whenever I can.
089. I'm obsessive, anal retentive, and often a perfectionist.
090. I have used my sexuality to advance my career.
091. I love Michael Jackson, scandals and all.
092. I know all the words to Slick Rick's "Children's Story".
093. I think Halloween is awesome because you get free candy.
094. I watch Spongebob Squarepants and I like it.
095. I have dated a close friend's ex.
096. I'm happy as of this moment.
097. I have gone scuba diving.
098. I've had a crush on somebody I have never met.
099. I've kissed someone I knew I shouldn't.
100. I play a musical instrument.
101. I strongly dislike math.
102. I'm procrastinating on something right now.
103. I own and use a library card.
104. I fall in "lust" more than in "love."
105. Cheese enchiladas rock my socks.
106. I think The Lord of the Rings is one of the greatest things ever.
107. I'm obsessed with the tv show "The O.C."
108. I am resentful that I have to grow up.
109. I am an entirely different person around different people.
110. I think the world would be a better place if people just smiled more often.
111. I think Ramen is one of the best foods in the whole world.
112. I am suffering from a broken heart.
113. I am a nerd.
114. No matter where I am or who I'm with, I always seem to be lonely.
115. I am left handed and proud of it.
116. I try not to change who I am for someone.
117. My heart resides below my feet.
118. I have had sex with someone I was not in a relationship with.
119. I enjoy smoothies.
120. I have had major surgery.
121. I have adopted a pet from the ASPCA.
122. I am listening to Radiohead right now.
123. Some people call me by a nickname.
124. I once stole a music stand.
125. I like pumpkin pie.
126. I love NASCAR!
127. I own over 200 CDs.
128. I work 7 days a week.
129. I have mono.
130. I don't have the ability to make decisions without changing my mind.
131. People tell me I have a horrible sense of humor.
132. I'm still in my PJs.
133. I'm looking for love in all the wrong places.
134. I have a tendency to fall for the wrong men/women, or have them fall for me, so I can't help but reciprocate.
135. I'll try anything three times.
136. I've done drugs other than alcohol or cigarettes.
137. I'm having trouble sleeping.
138. I am a cuddler.
139. I like John Waters films.
140. I have made a pornographic videotape.
141. Sloth is my favorite deadly sin.
142. One of my boobs is bigger than the other though not noticed by others.
143. I know all the words to the "Firefly" theme song.
144. I am abnormally obsessed with all things Buffy/Angel.
145. I love comfort food.
146. I'm a right-winged conservative Christian, and proud of it.
147. I'm Catholic.
148. I can walk a mile without feeling like I'm going to die.
149. I am a college student.
150. I like to cook.
151. I hate vacuuming with a passion.
152. I'm addicted to photography and picture frames.
153. I have performed in the Rocky Horror Picture show.
154. I generally get along with my parents.
155. I like Shakespeare.
156. I like to sing.
157. I'll take the Pepsi Challenge any day, and STILL pick Coke!
158. I have things that I want to say to people, but I won't/can't because I don't want to hurt/be hurt by them.
159. I'm not "mainstream" when it comes to religion.
160. I've counted down the days until the summer.
161. I've fulfilled someone's dare at a party or gathering.
162. I challenge people to duels, and when I do, I mean it.
163. I was pigeon-toed at one point in my life.
164. I love Digimon and wear goggles to school.
165. I have been to an anime convention.
166. I constantly have my head in the clouds daydreaming.
167. I am addicted to roleplaying.
168. I was in labor for 30 hours with no pain medication.
169. I own more than three items of vinyl clothing.
170. I read hardcore Christian Bible Tracts because I think they're funny.
171. I hate to drive.
172. I'm unemployed but would rather sit on my butt and play video games than look for a job.
173. I come from a southern, highly religious family and have chosen to keep a major part of my life secret from my family for now.
174. I have a serious taste for older men/women.
175. I had a happy childhood.
176. I have an unhealthy obsession with certain child actors.
177. I am an only child.
178. I have more than five different lotions on my desk right now.
179. I have a more active online social life than IRL.
180. Sometimes I actually like my job.
181. I love animals, and have had at least one pet.
182. I love writing letters.
183. I haven't had sex with a lot of people, but I've had a really wide range of sexual experiences with those few.
184. I don't bleed, I percolate.
185. I sleep the entire day but am awake all night long.
186. My two children were born in the same month.
187. I like the taste of blood.
188. I do not know how to swim.
189. I know how to shoot a gun!
190. I am currently pregnant with my first baby!
191. I flew to another state when I was underage without asking/telling my parents.
192. I've experienced natural childbirth.
193. I am a HUGE "Sex and the City" fan.
194. I am currently experiencing physical pain.
195. I've lost time at work this week because my car was encased in an ice flow.
196. I'm looking for a new job that I actually like.
197. I am have OCD about at least one thing.
198. I have a child named after a fictional or mythological character.
199. I have a pet named after a fictional or mythological character.
200. I have been paid money for my art.
201. I never ever tan.
202. I have overcome at least one long-standing fear.
203. I have tattoos.
204. I need to take a shower.
205. I like to eat cool whip right out of the freezer.
206. I have a test in school tomorrow.
207. I am currently having an online conversation with a friend.
208. I'd love to live somewhere year-round that receives little or no snow.
209. Reading books is one of the greatest joys in my life.
210. I am a huge sports fan.
211. I have or have had a mohawk.
212. In general, I spend money on music and books before clothing and food.
213. I am in or am joining a Greek organization.
214. I have written fiction of over 42,000 words in length.
215. I have been on three or more continents.
216. I have a pretty good tolerance for pain.
217. I have an entirely irrational fear of bugs.
218. I once made out with my cousin.
219. I am more afraid of being embarrassed than death.
220. I have gone skinny dipping before.
221. I regret spending this much time on this meme.
222. I have had people out to kill me.
223. I'm liable to bite someone's head off without my morning cup of coffee.
224. I love to read fanfiction.
225. I would consider myself a cat person, when choosing between cats and dogs.
226. I'm learning para-gliding this year.
227. I remember what the internet was like before the World Wide Web
228. I make my own eBooks.
229. I love Ethiopian food.
230. I am planning to watch the Season Premiere of Big Brother 10 next week.
231. I enjoy movies that I don't understand.
232. I am only one degree away from Kevin Bacon.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer: First Born

2008-06-14T20:57:11Z

Title: First Born
Part of the Omniverse Project
By Benji: The Vampire Confuser

Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations created by Joss Whedon.

Summary: Some things were meant to be.

“Should you be watching this?” Tara asked, fading into existence beside Anya. “You didn’t become a guardian just to spy on his sex life did you?”

Still fond of the trappings of physical existence, Anya turned her head in her friend’s direction. “It’s not like that.” She insisted. A groan from the bed drew her attention back to the activities being engaged in therein. “Huh, he’s learned some new tricks.”

“Anya seriously,” Tara admonished. “What’s going on? If you stay here too long, you’ll get depressed, and he’ll start to feel guilty. Remember what happened with that girl in Kenya?”

Anya brushed off her concerns. “This is different. I have to be here for this.”

“Why?”

As Xander’s breathing quickened, Anya stepped quickly to the bed, her hand moving towards her own abdomen.

“Anya what are you doing?” Tara demanded.

Reaching into herself, Anya pulled out a small glowing ball, pulsing with life.

“Oh my Goddess is that-“

“Yes.” Anya said softly, leaning over the lovers and pushing the ball into the abdomen of Xander’s bride. “I was killed before I even knew.” She smiled, and trailed her fingers down his back as he collapsed, his task completed for now. “One way or another, she’ll be his first born.”

She kissed Xander’s cheek, and that of his wife. Then just below her belly button. “Take care of each other.” She choked. “Be glad of each other.”

Tara wrapped an arm around the shoulders of her fellow angel, and they faded from the room.

The End.

World War Z: The Supernatural Community

2008-06-11T20:33:03Z

World War Z: The Supernatural Community
by Benji The Vampire Confuser
Based on characters and situations created by Max Brooks, and Joss Whedon.

Harrisburg, The Carpathian Mountains, Romania

[The view out the window is of a small, but growing mountain town, sheltered by the shadow of the huge castle that sits on the cliff. It is, I am assured by the small purple skinned butler, the Count's favorite room simply for this view. The count himself has altered his appearance since the war. Where once he kept himself looking young, with long black hair flowing past his shoulders, dressed in an elegant Victorian suit, he now has allowed his age to show. He keeps his silver hair tied back in a ponytail, and his close cropped beard gives him a wise, dignified appearance.]

When you get to be my age, it is difficult to be taken by surprise. Indeed, it is difficult to reach my age if you are easily taken by surprise. Even before I became a Vampire. But no one, no matter who, or what they are, saw this coming. There were no prophecies, no visions, nothing. This is nearly unheard of in a world where you can hardly sneeze without some psychic or seer knowing it would happen a century before you were born.

When the general population of the world starting talking about Zombies, those of us “in the know” scoffed and laughed. Anyone with any sense knows what a Zombie is. A freshly dead person is preserved and given life to carry out the tasks assigned by the mage. They do not attack people unless specifically ordered to. And I've yet to hear of any magician or Witch, no matter how depraved, order their Zombies to eat the living. Perhaps the most horrific thing about all this is, that not only was it unforeseen, but that no one has yet discovered how it happened.

It is amusing to think, that the population with no knowledge, and little belief in the supernatural was better prepared, and able to accept the plague as a reality, than the rest of us. They had no preconceived notions about the matter save that it shouldn't be possible.

When word of what was really happening got out, how did the Supernatural Community respond?

It depended on the species, but mostly there was rejoicing. Finally the stain of humanity would be wiped off the face of the Earth, and the Demons could reclaim their homeland. Make no mistake before the War, for untold millenia Vampires and Demons, most of them despised humans. I was not one of them you understand. But all this was before we realized that the walking dead were not only eating humans. Not only mortal creatures were at risk. But any living thing, save plants were being devoured by these creatures. Human, animal, and Demon alike faced extinction.

It is a blessing that Demons and Slayers and other super powered beings who were infected did not retain their abilities upon reanimation. Once they became a Living Dead they were as slow, and as stupid and as weak as any walking corpse. Save that some had weight and reach advantages.

Suddenly, the entire population of the world, Mortal and Supernatural alike were in the same boat. We all faced extinction. Except for Vampires. We alone were safe from the Ghouls. Since we were not among the living, they ignored us.

How did that go over?

Almost immediately there was a spike in the Vampire population. When humans learned that they would be safe from the Zombies by becoming a Vampire, they were begging to be turned. But then almost as quickly there was a sudden drop in our population. Vampires became hunted by those who believed that as the only things not being attacked, that we were somehow to blame. Others were killed in the crossfire. When you're fighting a swarm of shambling corpses, a Vampire can be hard to pick out of the crowd. This was the Supernatural “Great Panic”.

And much to my occasional regret, it was our traditional enemies who put a stop to it.

The Slayers.

The Slayers. Or in point of fact, the Slayer. Buffy Summers. I hated her. Hell hath no fury like a Vampire scorned. [He smiles wryly.] Her and her allies, those that managed to survive the panic began their own version of the Reddeker Plan. It is they who made Scotland a refuge. They who gathered Demons and Witches together to create safe zones around the world. And it was her who convinced most, that Vampires needed to be their allies in the struggle.

I imagine the fact that she had had two Vampire lovers in the past, played no small part in her crusade. Vampires had already begun gathering humans to them in an attempt at mutual survival. We quickly realized that our food source was being wiped out. But not all were ready to adopt an attitude of cooperation. Many Vampires simply captured humans and imprisoned them. Some ruled over their refugee camps like feudal lords. They and their Demonic minions treated the humans like so much cattle. They did not last long.

Why was that?

Because it was the cooperation between those like myself and the Demons, and the Humans that kept our safe zones from being overrun. Without it, Vampires would run through their food source too quickly. A starving Vampire became little more than a Zombie himself and had to be put down accordingly. Or the humans would revolt, and that never ended well. Anyone who was unable to get past their prejudices more often than not would find themselves on the wrong end of a stake or blade. Or ravenous moaning jaws.

No the only way we were going to survive, any of us, was to develop a symbiotic relationship. There were no shortage of Humans willing to donate a bit of their blood to the cause in exchange for protection. Vampires acted as scouts, shock troops. We worked together with Demons who a year before would have as soon ripped out our hearts as look at us.

It was not easy for any of us. Not even the Slayer. Least of all for her. She was still disgusted with humans who willingly gave their blood. Despite her past relationships, she still found us repellent. And as a leader she took the loss of so many of her friends and allies hard. She would never admit it, but it showed in her actions and decisions.

It was my...friend, for whom this town is named who had to put her down when she was finally a single step too slow.

The Key, The Door, and the Slayer Chapter 2

2008-05-31T19:22:22Z

Prologue
Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Richard found that if he kept to the wall, away from the railing and the yawning chasm that awaited just on the other side, he was fine. Which not only helped his sense of safety from falling, it also helped him regain his dignity, what was left of it anyway. Being able to not only look calm, but feel calm did wonders for his self esteem.

“I don't want to be the pessimist in the group.” he finally said, once he had fully recovered from his ordeal on the plank. And who the hell had decided one narrow plank of wood was sufficient for crossing a bottomless pit in the first place? “But what if Islington doesn't know where the key is either?” He wasn't worried about how Islington would take it when they returned without the key. He'd put Richard and Door completely at ease when they'd seen him before.

Hunter on the other hand, was a trifle concerned. How would this affect the plan? Were Croup and Vandemar still going to meet them on the way? And if not, how was she to get the spear? She was the greatest Hunter in the underside, but she'd gotten that title not only by being very, very good on her own, but also understanding how certain things worked. And for whatever reason, the Beast of London could only be killed by the spear of destiny. Which Islington's goons were meant to give her, in payment for her cooperation. She felt a swell of pride knowing that even the legendary cutthroats were not so confident in their ability to defeat her. If they had been they would simply have coerced her into helping, rather than offering the spear in payment.

“I am confident that even if he does not know, he will know how to find out.” she said finally.

“Magic that powerful always leaves a trace.” Door added. “If you know how to look for it, you can maybe follow the trail.”

*****

“Well, well, well, Mr. Vandemar.” Mr. Croup grinned, looking in amusement at the carnage of the abbey. “Someone's made a very large mess.”

“Big mess Mr. Croup.” Vandemar agreed. “Very nice mess.”

“They don't seem to have enjoyed themselves however.” tsked Croup.

“No they didn't.” Vandemar nodded. “Not at all.”

“One should always take pride and pleasure in their work Mr. Vandemar. Otherwise there's hardly any point is there?”

Vandemar shook his head sadly. “Almost feel sorry for 'em.”

“Well we can't all be artists can we. Still, impressive display of rage and frustration.”

“And a woman did it.”

“The deadliest of the species indeed. Excepting ourselves of course. Now then, I think I've got a scent, let's see if we can't discover what's become of the lost trinket.”

*****

“It's very good of you,” Lamia said, walking beside Richard. “Taking me with you like this.”

“Least we could do.” Richard said modestly. She was looking at him in a way he couldn't identify. He rather liked it though.

Ahead of them, Door and Hunter turned a corner and were lost to sight.

“The others are getting a little ahead.” he pointed out. He hadn't realized until now that he and Lamia had been slowing down.

“Let them go.” she said softly. “We'll catch up.” She stopped, and ran a cold finger down his cheek. “You're so warm. It must be wonderful to be so full of warmth.”

Richard thought she was speaking metaphorically. “Uhm, it's not something I think about really.”

She stepped closer to him. “Would you share, some of your warmth with me?” she asked coquettishly.

He still thought she was speaking metaphorically. Well actually it was rather hard to think at all right now really. “I, what?”

“Don't you like me?”

“Of course I like you.”

“And you're not using all of your heat are you?”

Now he REALLY wasn't sure what she was talking about. “No, I suppose not.”

“And you said you'd pay me, for being your guide. And that's what I want for my payment. Warmth.”

She was standing so close to him now. His world collapsed till all it held, all he could see was her. The white of her skin, the color of her eyes, the black of her hair. Inside him, the part that had seen this movie was screaming at him that this was a very bad idea. But she had woven her spell to well and he ignored it.

She cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him gently, but firmly on the lips. She was so cold. The cold within her seemed to spread, infiltrating him, and stole his breath. Like jumping into a cold bit of water and having the breath sucked out of you, only stronger.

She pulled back, and took a deep breath. Her lips and face were not so pale now. And dimly, through the numbness of his skin, he could feel that her hand on his cheek was not quite so cold anymore. Now he could identify the look she was giving him. It was hungry. And she wasn't sated yet.

“More.” she purred, pulling him to her again. He hadn't the strength or the will to fight her, and he felt her lips press against his again. Suddenly, just as his sight was beginning to dim, she was yanked away from him.

Though his mind felt blurry, Richard realized that the Marquis had caught up with them. He was holding Lamia tightly by the back of her neck. “Give it back.” he growled at her. “Give him back his life.”

She struggled, hissing and scratching like an angry kitten, but was unable to escape. Finally, grudgingly, she leaned forward as best she could, and breathed softly into Richard's mouth. He felt his body temperature slowly return to normal.

“All of it Lamia.” the Marquis rasped, shaking her. Giving De Caribas a look that would have curdled milk, she she breathed the last of what she'd stolen back into Richard. He felt like he'd run a mile, but at least he could breathe and think again.

“What did you do to me?” he gasped.

“She was stealing your life.” the Marquis said, his voice still raspy. “That's what she and her kind do.”

“I need it more than he does.” she spat. Her color had returned to normal.

De Caribas gave her another violent shake, then shoved her roughly away. “Come near him again, you or any of your kind and I'll come to your cavern during the day, and burn it to the ground.”

She looked for a moment like she might rush him, her fingers curled into claws. But the look he gave her back was even more chilling than Richard could have imagined. Finally, all she did was spit in the man's face, and flee.

He wiped the frozen spittle from his cheek, and turned to Richard with his familiar smirk. “Charming woman. Now let's catch up to Door. She's in danger. Did you get the key?”

“Uhm, no.”

“No?” De Caribas snapped. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean no. It was gone. Someone got there before us, and killed the monks. We don't know what happened to the key.”

This was a surprise. And the Marquis did not like surprises. “Well now, this is a wrinkle.”

To Be Continued...

The Key, The Door, and the Slayer Chapter 1

2008-05-31T19:19:42Z

Prologue

Chapter 1

Islington fumed. His window to the world, allowing him to keep tabs on his thugs, and his patsies, though he didn’t like to think of them that way, showed him quite clearly the destruction of the Blackfriars Abbey. This was intolerable. He’d planned for everything. He was quite confident in the trio’s ability to get the key. He knew the three challenges, Hunter would easily pass the first, Door was certainly clever enough to decipher the riddle, and Richard, though he did not yet know it, was infinitely strong enough to withstand the ordeal.

Once they’d gotten the Key, Croup and Vandemar would bring it, and Door to him. They’d already dispatched the Marquis, and Richard would never be able to get past the beast. Door would get him home, and all would be right with the world.

But this, this was completely unexpected. Someone, or something had slaughtered the Blackfriars, but had not gotten the key. He took a deep, calming breath. That was the key thing, no pun intended. Whoever it was, had not gotten the key. It was still out there, somewhere. The Friars had hidden it. He just had to find out where. But first…

Poor Mr. Croup, he’d been so looking forward to springing the trap. He’d been so patient thus far. Well he’d just have to wait a little bit longer was all. The pair were not to take Door until she’d found the key. And she hadn’t yet. They would just have to wait. But where could the key have got too?

*****

“Mom,” Buffy explained impatiently. “It’s a date. You don’t bring your little sister with you on a date.”

“Oh please,” Dawn huffed. “Like you do anything anyway. You go kill Vampires. Big whoop.”

“Hey,” the slayer cried defensively. “Riley and I do lot’s of…” She saw the look her mother was leveling at her. “Wholesome, chaste things.”

“Good.” Joyce said. “Then you won’t mind taking your sister along.”

“Mom,” Buffy began.

“Buffy please!” Joyce snapped, the pain in her head getting worse. “I don’t ask much of you. Get your sister home by eight and then do your, wholesome chaste things.”

Buffy could see that further arguments were only going to aggravate the situation. “Fine.”

The two sisters exited the house, bickering already. Joyce let out a sigh, which gave way to a faint whimper of pain.

*****

Breathing was painful. What with the still healing slit in his throat, and a double lungful of brackish water only recently expelled. Plus the numerous other wounds dotting his body. But De Caribas was grateful for the pain. It meant that he was alive. Once again, careful manipulation and long term thinking had carried the day once again.

“You know,” Old Bailey said thoughtfully. “I’ve always wondered what it was like on the other side.”

“Wait long enough and you’ll find out for yourself.” The Marquis said quietly. “It’s very cold my friend. And dark. And very cold.

*****

With a roar of frustration, Croup smashed the phone against the desk, then followed through by smashing the desk itself. He wished he had something living to vent his frustrations on, it was a shame they’d killed the Marquis so quickly.

Vandemar watched, his face blank, his arms crossed sulkily. “No key.” He muttered.

“No there’s no bloody key.” Croup snapped. “We’ve waited long enough Mr. Vandemar. We did not get to our current social standing by waiting did we?”

Vandemar said nothing. He recognized the question as rhetorical.

“No we are not waiters.” Croup continued. “We are not scavengers waiting for the alpha predators to finish with their meal. We ARE the alpha predators Mr. Vandemar. We are hunters. And it is time we were more pro-active in our endeavors.” He headed for the door.

“Where’re we goin’?” Vandemar asked.

“What is the first thing a body should do when searching for an object it has lost Mr. V? Check the last place it was. To the Abbey. There we shall begin our own hunt for this precious key.

To Be Continued…

The Key, The Door, and the Slayer

2008-05-31T19:15:49Z

The Key, The Door, and the Slayer
By Benji: The Vampire Confuser

Feedback, Mr. Vandemar. The process by which fan-fic authors know whether their illicit writings are appreciated.

Based on Characters and situations created by Joss Whedon and Neil Gaiman.

Summary: Combining the Fifth Season of Buffy, with the world of Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere.

Prologue

The world we know, the world of science, pop-stars, internet porn, and reality TV, is barely the tip of the iceberg. Beneath the surface lies another world. A world of Vampires, Demons, and other things that go bump in the night.

Inhuman monsters prey on the unwary. All the while the world at large refuses to acknowledge their existence. There are those however, that fate has chosen to battle these forces, to stem the tide of darkness. The Slayer for instance. One girl in all the world gifted with the power to defeat evil. When one slayer falls, another is called.

But there is yet another world, that those who live in the above mentioned, have no knowledge of. It is known as the world below, but it is all around us. It’s citizens live in tunnels beneath our feet, or on the rooftops. They pass on un-noticed until they draw attention to themselves, and then are quickly forgotten. Some are born to this world. Others fall between the cracks of reality, and not even their nearest and dearest remember they ever existed.

Such a one, is Richard Mayhew. Only a few days ago he was living a normal life in London. Good job, decent flat, even a lovely, successful fiancée. That all ended the night he met Door. She nearly literally fell in his lap, bloodied, exhausted, and pursued by assassins.

Helping her cost him first his fiancée, then his entire life. Accompanying Door to the lair of Islington, they beseeched the Angel’s aid, in restoring Richard to his life, and Door’s investigation into her family’s death. To help them, Islington told them they must seek out the Black friars, the keepers of the Key to All Realities.

So it was that Door, Richard, and Hunter, Door’s bodyguard came seeking the monks who guarded the relic. What they found was not what they expected.

“Somehow I don’t think it’s supposed to look like this.” Richard said, as they approached the monastery. One of the huge wooden doors was lying in the entrance way, broken nearly in half, the other hung on one hinge.

Hunter crouched by the bodies of two friars lying mangled just before the entrance. “They were barely able to put up a fight.” She said. “Whatever did this was extremely strong.” She studied the ground. “She came strait in, didn’t even break stride to kill them.”

“She?” Door asked.

Hunter nodded. “These tracks were made by six inch stiletto heels.”

“Could have been a transvestite.” Richard said, trying to alleviate his anxiety at this ominous turn of events.

“No,” she replied. “The weight is wrong for a man.”

“Oh.”

Door approached the ruined doorway with trepidation, but Hunter stopped her. “Let me go first.”

Slowly, the warrior entered the monastery, sniffing the air, and listening hard. There was no sound within, and the stench of death and fear emanated from the heart of the structure.

They found body after body, all dead. Finally they came to a central chamber where once more Hunter’s skills provided a picture of what had happened.

“If she came for the key, she did not find it.” She observed. “These monks were sitting in a circle when she came.” Now they lay scattered about the room. “She threw them, some after they were dead. She was angry.”

“So they key’s gone.” Richard guessed.

“Yes. Somehow the Friars were able to hide it from her.”

Door held her face in her hands for a moment. They’d been so close. “Now what? Where could they have hidden it?”

-----

“What are you doing in here?” Buffy demanded. The young brunette spun, surprised, looking chastened.

“Buffy!” her mother called from downstairs. “If you’re going out, take your sister with you!”

“Mom!” Buffy and Dawn protested simultaneously.

To be continued…

Dead in DC Chapter 4

2008-05-31T19:04:09Z

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Chapter 4

“Not all of my reaps are so easy.” Vince told me as we headed for Mack’s place. “And chances are, most of yours won’t be. I just happen to have the perfect day job for a lot of this.”

“Uh, yeah I’d guess so. How, how’d you get into…”

“What the mob? I knew the ins and outs from before.”

“Oh. Uh okay. Is that how you died?”

Vince gave me a look. “Free bit of etiquette advice for you kid. Never ask a Reaper that question. I personally don’t mind, but some don’t like discussing it. I mean, you wouldn’t exactly like your death story to get around would you?”

“Eeesh,” I said with a wince. “Good point. Sorry.”

“Sokay.” He sighed. “Like I said, I don’t mind. Ever hear the phrase, live by the sword die by the sword? Well it’s the same thing with guns.”

“You were a hit man?”

“Yep. One of my jobs was better than me, and viola, here I am.”

“Doing, pretty much the same thing.”

“Look kid,” he scowled again. “Don’t get all high and mighty guilt ridden on us all right? We don’t kill anyone. People die. It’s sad sometimes but sometimes it’s beautiful, and either way it has to happen. That guy? Dead whether I was there or not. He didn’t feel any pain when he went and he had someone there to ease the journey. We perform a public service, a good one. We’re not murderers. I won’t deny that my old job gave me a unique perspective that helped me adjust to this pretty quickly though.”

“Yeah I guess it would.” I said, still pretty creeped out by him.

“So wh-“

“1929, Chicago.” He shot me another glare. “Susie was the one to greet me.”

We didn’t talk anymore after that. Which was fine with me because I found Vince, well, creepy.

*****

Well we talked briefly when we go to the store.

“Lemme guess, Susie’s favorite liquor and plenty of it?”

“No you dipshit.” He said derisively. “Everyone’s favorite ice cream and plenty of it. What’s yours?”

For such an irascible guy, he sure seemed to remember everyone’s favorite flavors of ice cream. Ashley: Coffee. T’ing, Rocky Road. Mack, Cookies and Cream, Walt: Cherry Garcia. Vince was partial to Raspberry Sherbet. I’m lactose intolerant.

“What’s it gonna do, kill ya?”

*****

Mack had a nice, small house just where Bethesda bordered DC. I recognized Ashley’s car parked out front, and two more. Vince shoved the grocery bag into my arms the minute we were out of the car. “I paid, you carry.”

Vince didn’t bother with the doorbell, he just walked in. And was almost bowled over by two kids.

“Guess it pays to announce your approach sometimes after all huh?” asked a middle aged guy with sandy blond hair. He smirked at Vince, then turned to me, divesting me of the bag. “I’ll go put these in the freezer, you bring enough for everybody?”

“Didn’t know you three were gonna be here.” Vince growled. “Guess I should’ve guessed.”

“Yeah you really should have. The others are out back.” He turned to me. “You the new kid?”

“Yep. John Hancock.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not.”

“How many times you have to tell people that?”

“That I’m not shitting them about my name? I’ve lost count.”

“Heh. Well pleased t’ meet you John, I’m Charlie. Go grab a burger from the grill. T’ings cookin’ and you can’t go wrong there.” He lowered his voice. “Treat ‘er real nice and she’ll treat you nice hey? She’s got a thing for the younger guys know what I’m sayin’?” he smirked.

I wasn’t sure I did. He was talking kinda fast like one of those tv lawyers or something.

I should probably take this opportunity to explain a few things about Reapers in general, and this group specifically. Reapers are assigned to different divisions. Myself, Vince, T’ing, Ashley, Mack and Walt are the External Causes Division for instance. Now within that division, sometimes people specialize. Vince naturally tends to get the organized crime reaps, while Mack usually gets the upscale politicians and businessmen. Because they come from that background and know how to get around.

Typically you stick with the division you were `born` into. Since I died in an accident, I’m in the division I’m in. But apparently if you ask really really nicely, you can get transferred.

Charlie here, works in Infectious diseases. And the kids? They reap animals. Do the divisions usually fraternize like this? On occasion yeah. And this? Was an occasion.

*****

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mack said. “Recently, our fellow reaper, our friend, Susan Chase, moved on from this world.” One of the kids, a little girl, looked particularly grieved, as Ashley held her. What was weird was, both the girl, and the little boy, had the look in their eyes, of someone much older. Of course for all I knew they’d been Reapers for over a hundred years.

“Susan was born in Arlington Virginia, in 1890. She never spoke much about her life to me, but I know that she died in a boating accident on the Potomac, in 1910. She was a reaper for a little over 90 years. Almost a century. Those are the facts as I know them, though we worked together for many years, we were never exactly close, merely colleagues. But some of you here were her close friends. It’s for you that we’re really gathered tonight.”

“Ms. Susie took care of us.” The little girl spoke up. “Her and Charlie. Most, most of us live on the streets, cause we can’t get jobs and, and it’s hard to, to reap when you have to dodge foster parents.”

Ashley stroked the girl’s hair as she began to cry, and the little boy took the girl’s hand.

“She tended to get the little kid reaps.” Charlie piped up. “She never said, but I got the feeling, watching her with the kids, that she must have had a few rug rats back in her living days. Way she looked at ‘em, either these two,” he indicated the nino-reapers. “When she put ‘em to bed, or the kids she reaped, when they were goin’ on to wherever we go, you could tell. She was missin’ somebody.”

“She loved kids.” Ashley agreed. “And, adults. She could sometimes go overboard with her affection for adults.” She smirked at me. Vince scowled.

“She did have kids.” Vince said. “A boy and a girl. They died in the fire that killed her.”

I kept myself to myself during most of that night. This was a night for them. For Susie’s friends and co-workers and Jesus! How long was that kid sitting there staring at me?!

“Hi.” He said.

“Uh, hi.”

“You’re the guy Ms. Susie got to take her place right? I’m Tim.”

“Yeah. Name’s John.”

“Ms. Susie was nice.”

“So I hear.”

“Wonder what she’s doing now?”

The kid seemed to have grasped something that, I wasn’t sure I’d gotten yet. Susie didn’t die. She left. And even when they do die, they just, leave. The problem is you don’t get to say good bye all the time.

“Off hand, I’d say hanging out with her kids.”

“I didn’t know she had kids. No one knew that.”

“Vince did.”

“Yeah.” There was a pause. “She and Vince were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“I figured as much yeah.” So was he glaring at me all the time because I was taking his girl’s place? Or because she’d kissed me? “So you’re a reaper?”

“Yuhuh! Me’n Izzy reap animals when they die.”

“All animals? Don’t, hundreds of insects die every day?”

“…Idano.”

*****

Charlie and the kids’re gone, Walt and Vince are reading the obituaries playing who reaped who, and Ashley and T’ing are watching TV. And I’m sulking on the patio. No, not sulking. Brooding. No, wait, better yet, contemplating. Yeah, contemplating.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Mack asked, coming outside.

“I don’t have change for that.”

Mack smiled slightly. “You don’t have to stand outside you know, you’re one of us now. This party should be as much for you as anyone else.”

“Except I didn’t know Susie. First time I met her was when she *ahem*. Say, since she er, reaped me before I got to my girlfriend’s place, is that why I had clothes on after I was dead?”

Mack’s smile widened. “Oh, yes I think that’s why. Incidentally you’re not the only one out there with an embarrassing death story. I’ve heard tell of a young lady out in the pacific northwest who was beaned by a toilet seat falling from orbit.”

Wait, that sounded familiar. My friend Barry loved weird shit like that. “I think I’ve heard about that. She’s a Reaper?”

“Oh yes.” There was a bit of silence. “It takes some getting used to.” He said. “Being a Reaper. But try to remember that we’re performing an act of mercy, not murder. Remember, if Susie hadn’t been there for you, you’d have died anyway, and felt it. And then you’dve been stuck inside your body.”

“Yeah that would have sucked.”

“Indeed.”

“So, I need to go find myself someplace to live now right?”

“That’s tomorrow. Walt’ll take you out to get a new identity, hopefully find you a place to live. As for a job, you’re on your own there I’m afraid. For tonight, I’m told my couch is very comfortable.”

It was.

To be continued...

Dead in DC Chapter 3

2008-05-31T18:58:08Z

Chapter 1
Chapter 2

Chapter 3

“This is Denny’s.” Walt answered. “John my boy it’s time to explain a few things to you.”

“The door to the afterlife is through Denny’s?”

“No.”

“Denny’s IS the afterlife? Is it heaven or hell?”

Walt looked like he was either gonna laugh or belt me. I get that look a lot. Then I got the pleasant sensation of Ashley shutting me up with a hand over my mouth.

“Let him speak.” She admonished me. Hey when a hot girl does that, you listen. Or I do anyway, I’ve always been fond of girls’ hands. Over the mouth was a new one for me though. Again with the touching. I got kinda used to not being able to feel anything, that’s twice that she…

Wait a minute, now that I think of it, I was suddenly aware of being able to feel the bench under my ass. And the coolness of the table. Ashley must be good at reading people’s eyes.

“That’s right John,” she said, taking her hand from my mouth. “Your corporeal again.”

“How and why?” I hissed. If I could be touched, that means I could be seen and heard, and hey, only a few blocks from my house, suppose someone I know walks in? Plus this is a conversation probably best not had loudly.

“That’s what we have to explain to you.” Walt said. “Congratulations John, you just got a second lease on life. You’re a Reaper.”

“…And you were going to tell me this when?”

Walt looked at his watch. “Right about now.”

“Every Reaper has a set quota of souls they have to reap.” Ashley explained. “We have no idea what that quota is. Not until we’ve reaped the last one. Then we move on. From what I hear we get big bonus points for participating.”

“So, that girl,”

“Susie.”

“Right, so I was Susie’s last reap? And so now I take her place?”

“You got it stud.” Ashley grinned happily. “You caught on faster than I did.”

“You never know until you’ve reaped your last soul? So it’s, kinda just like death the first time.”

Walt raised an eyebrow. “Actually yeah. Philosopher?”

“Musician.”

“Close enough.”

“Hey you folks ready to order?”

I hope not too many people noticed me jump. Was she a waitress or a ninja?

“I’ll have the grand slam breakfast with orange juice.” Walt ordered. Ashley ordered French toast and coffee.

“And you sir?”

Guess I was gonna have to get used to being visible again. Damn I was kinda liking being, well, not. “Uh, nothing for-“ I seem to have left my wallet in my other life.

“Special occasion I’m paying.” Walt assured me. “Get something you’ve had a big day.”

No shit. “In that case, gimme the pancake platter with side of hash browns and apple juice.”

“Coming right up.”

Soon as she was gone I whirled on Walt. “Okay so how’s this work? Do I get a cloak and scythe? Do, I have to kiss people?”

“Uhm, no on both counts.” Walt said. “For one thing I don’t think we’d appreciate you stealing Susie’s shtick.”

“Right. Got it. So…”

“Most of this is a learn as you go, hands on thing.” Walt said. “But here are the basics. I give you a post-it, on it is the first, and sometimes middle, initial, last name, location, and estimated time of death for your reap. You get there in time to take their soul out, before they die, if at all possible. After that, you see them on their way.”

“Okay, sounds simple enough, except for the whole thing. How do I take the soul out?”

“You touch them.” Ashley explained. “Doesn’t have to be a big touch, just a hand shake, or brushing your hand lightly. But just bumping them won’t do it.”

“It’s instinctual.” Walt said. “You’ll figure it out. And you can quit casting nervous glances at the door, even if someone you knew walks in they won’t recognize you.”

“Oh.”

Walt probably noticed my not so subtle disappointment. “Yeah, so no going up to your parents and telling them who you are. They won’t appreciate it.” He looked up at the door himself and nodded in satisfaction. “Ah, here’s the others.”

Coming in the door was a trio of people who looked like something out of one of those sesame street sketches. You know, the one that goes `Two of these things belong together…` An Asian lady, who could have been either 30, or 50 as far as I could tell from her appearance, an old black man in a severe business suit and glasses, and a tall, black haired guy dressed in expensive looking, trendy clothes. He was glowering at me.

“This the newbie?” he asked without preamble.

“Yes, are you the oldie?” The guy rubbed me the wrong way, what can I say?

“Oh this is off to a wonderful start.” The Asian woman said.

“Don’t start.” The older guy said. “I know, too late, but try to keep it civil at least?”

Oldie and I scowled at each other a bit while the others looked either annoyed or amused.

“John, meet Vince, T’ing, and Mack.” Walt introduced Scowly, the Asian woman, and the business man respectively.

“Pleasure.” Mack said cordially.

“Don’t mind Vince,” T’ing said, sinking into the seat beside me, sandwiching me between her and Ashley. I really didn’t mind. “He was rather fond of Susie.” She whispered.

Mack took a seat beside Walt, while Vince stole a chair from another table and sat in it backwards. Oh Vince you rebel you.

“Everyone,” Walt said. “This is John. In case you hadn’t heard already, Susie has moved on. John has taken her place.”

Vince scowled deeper, T’ing smiled at me, though she looked a little sad, and Mack crossed himself.

“God be with her.” He said.

“And this,” Walt smirked. “Is the External Causes Reaper Division of Washington D.C.”

“The fun division.” Vince said with a slight smile.

“External causes?”

“Murder, suicide, accidents.” T’ing said.

“Occasionally, very bizarre accidents.” Walt smirked.

Mack remained serious. “I believe, some of us may want to hold a memorial service of sorts for Susie. I’m offering up my place for just such a thing.”

“Thanks man.” Vince said sincerely.

“That sounds lovely,” T’ing said. “Should we bring anything?”

“Liquor and plenty of it?” Ashley suggested with a grin. “Susie’s favorite?”

Mack’s turn to scowl, but Walt laughed. “Sounds good to me. Say, tomorrow, 7 o’clock?”

They all agreed, and I just sat there feeling awkward.

“I guess you should come too.” Vince said reluctantly. “Not a good idea to leave the newbies on their own so soon.”

“Thanks.” He was so nice to me.

“Glad you feel that way,” Walt said. “You can take him to Mack’s house after the ride along.”

Vince blinked. “Excuse me?”

“John’ll tag along on your reap tomorrow, show him how it’s done.”

“Why do I get stuck with the newbie?!”

“A couple of reasons. One, it amuses me to stick him with you since you two got off so famously, and two, because I said so.” This was the first time I heard Walt use anything other than a jovial tone. Maybe the fact that it was so rare made it so effective.

*****

The next day I found myself strolling along the streets of DC with Vince. He was less scowly today, might have something to do with his `convenient reap`.

“So how is this so convenient?”

“Because I have to be there anyway.” Vince explained. “Y’see newbie, my reap today has pissed off the wrong people. And these wrong people wish to make an example of him.”

“And…how do you know this?” I asked, with no small amount of trepidation.

“I work for those same people.” He said calmly. “Strictly a desk job, but they expect me to turn out for these things to keep me honest. Relax, even if they spot you they can’t do anything to you. You’re already dead.”

“So, you work for the mob.”

“Yeah.”

“Doing, what?”

“Told you, desk job.”

“Er, right.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Vince assured me again. He looked up as we reached a Starbucks near the gallery place metro station. “Okay, the guy’s got a huge hard on for Starbucks, has a doughnut and latte every morning. Wait here, count to ten and then come in and find me. Get something if you want.”

“No money.”

“You’ll have to work on that.”

Waiit a minute. “Wait a minute, we don’t get paid do we.”

“No. Fraid not.”

“Well that sucks!”

“Yes.” That’s all he said before he went in.

I sighed and counted to ten. When I came in, Vince was standing in line for the register. As I watched, he `accidentally` jostled a guy while he walked to the pick-up counter. There was, I don’t know how to describe it, but I could tell that this was our guy, and he had just been divested of his soul. It was, kinda cool, and kinda creepy at the same time.

Vince smirked at me. “See?”

“Yeah, so, what happens now-holy shit what the fuck is that?!”

“Shh!” Vince hissed, casting a grin at the customers who were now staring in my direction. “Tourettes.” He explained. “Bro, you forget your meds this morning, c’mon.” he dragged me out of the store.

“That the hell-“

“That was a Graveling.” He said. “Those are the things that cause the…causes of people’s deaths. At least when it comes to our division.”

We were on the move again. “They’re scary, but they’re a vital part of the system. Long as you do nothing to disrupt the system, they won’t bother you.”

“What do you mean disrupt-“

“Wait here.”

“What?”

“Wait, here. What part of that was difficult for you newbie?”

“The motive.”

“The motive is I don’t feel like explaining to my boss a tag along. Wait here, and watch what happens.”

“Hey!” I called. He paused and looked back.

“What?”

“Your desk job requires you to be at or near the…”

“What kind of example would it be if no one saw it? Stay. We’ll pick you up.”

“We?”

*****

`We` turned out to be Vince, and Mr. L Prosser. Who, amazingly enough, was in rather good spirits.

“Bastard’ll never find the money.” He was boasting. “He won’t even know it’s missing until it’s too late.”

Vince smirked. “I don’t suppose you could do me a favor and let me in on it. It’d really make me look good if I find it.”

“I think you’re missing the point of the whole, revenge from beyond the grave.”

“Well,” Vince shrugged. “No harm in asking.”

And what happened next? Well Mr. Prosser, who’d been run over by the way, walked into a cave made of light, and disappeared. He never did divulge the secret location of the money. Vince didn’t mind. He said in retrospect it might just make his boss think he was in on it.

To be continued…

Dead in DC Chapter 2

2008-05-31T18:49:38Z

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The funeral was, well maybe not all I’d hoped for. Remember all I’d had to go on were fantasies, and let’s be honest, who fantasizes about small funerals? All my family were there, hell, even relatives that I hadn’t seen in so long I wasn’t sure who they were. And yeah, a lot of my friends were there too. But not as many as I’d hoped.

Not to say I blamed the friends who didn’t show up. I’ve lost touch with a lot of folks, so there’s a lot of people who probably didn’t ever hear about my demise or funeral. No the biggest disappointment was in the service itself I supposed. Kind of dry. Readings from the bible and such. No inside jokes, no memories recited. One or two of my favorite songs were sung, which was nice. But it wasn’t until the wake that things picked up.

I stayed out of the way in a corner, and just sort of watched. Stories were told, condolences were given, Mom even broke out the photo albums. I kinda lost track of Ashley and Walt. They’d passed themselves off as an old friend and teacher respectively. I guess they’re experienced at this kind of thing, cause they’ve managed to avoid conversation with the people who might be able to contradict their stories.

Ashley sidled up beside me, her mysterious smile plastered on her face. “Is it everything you hoped for?” she asked.

“Well I could have done with a twenty one gun salute, but this is nice too. What’s got you smiling?”

“You’ll see.”

I sighed and shrugged. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get an answer anytime soon. Girls with mysterious smiles don’t tend to let go of their secrets till they’re ready. I didn’t see anyone crying. Not sure how I felt about that, I mean, on the one hand, I hate seeing people cry. It makes me feel awkward and guilty, even if it’s got nothing to do with me. On the other hand, Hey! I’m dead! Make with the keening!

No I guess that’s part of why I’m staying in the corner. I have a feeling if I wandered around, I might find folks who’ve gone off by themselves to cry.

That’s when I spot her. “Holy shit.” I take off, passing through two people in my way in my hurry to get to the back yard.

“Hey,” Ashley said indignantly, and took off after.

I’d caught a glimpse through the window. Wasn’t sure it was really her. I mean, of all people to show up, she was the person I was least expecting. I mean, not even Veronica was here. And who can blame her? I’m glad she’s not here, I wouldn’t want her to have to face this crowd. Though I do hope she’ll come visit my grave at least once. Twice. Okay a lot.

“Who’s that?” Ashley asks, leaning against the railing of the back porch. The girl sitting on the tire swing has her back to us. Her hair is longer, but it’s her. Jesus. “John?”

“Wha? Oh. Sorry. Her name’s Sarah. Ex-girlfriend.”

“Oh? How ex?”

“I treated her like shit.”

I guess she wasn’t expecting an admission like that. “What?”

“I wasn’t always a very well adjusted person. I was, paranoid, insecure.”

Ashley looked down, but I wasn’t looking at her. So I didn’t see her glancing at her wrists.

“I started thinking that, every un-returned phone call, every time she was too busy to talk or go out…”

“You thought she was avoiding you.”

“Yeah. Hell I even thought she’d started screening her calls. Course by the time we broke up…I stopped blaming her a long time ago, but by then I had no idea where she was. Kinda always wanted to apologize though.”

Ashley must have seen the look in my eyes when I looked at her. “No.” she said. “No way. Uh uh, against the rules dead boy.”

“Oh c’mon! People talk to ghosts all the time!”

“Yeah, crazy people! Or ghosts that should know better!”

“Ashley, please. I’ll never get another chance, I’ve thought about her, how I treated her, every day since we split. Please. Last request?”

Ashley glared.

*****

“Excuse me,” Sarah turned to see who was speaking. She wasn’t even sure why she’d come, much less wanted to talk to anyone. There was a reason she’d left everything, and everyone behind.

“Are you Sarah Evans?” the goth girl approaching her asked tentatively.

“Uhm, yeah.” Sarah said. She blinked, and brushed her short black hair back from her face. “Have we met?”

“No,” the girl said. “I’m Ashley Waters.” She sat down on the swing set, letting the swing take her where it would. “I uh, me and John took an acting class together.”

“Acting?” Sarah was surprised. “When did he get into that?” She was so surprised she forgot to ask the girl how she knew who she was.

“Last year. He was in a production of Rent, and he wanted to, you know, not look like a jackass.”

Sarah harrumphed. “Jackass.”

Ashley sighed. “Yeah that bothered him.”

“What?”

“He showed me your picture once.” Ashley said. “That’s, that’s how I recognized you. Except for the shorter hair I guess.”

“Were you two…”

“No. No with the dating. Just friends.” She let the silence hang a bit before she continued. “He talked about you a lot.”

“He did?” Again, Sarah was surprised. John had never seemed one to open up about his past to one he didn’t know really well.

“Yeah, at first just when he was drunk, but, yeah. He never stopped thinking about how he treated you. He used to say you were the best friend he ever had. And he wished he had a chance to tell you that. And to apologize for, and I quote, `being a neurotic ass`.”

*****

“You owe me.” Ashley growled in the front yard, as we watched Sarah depart. Apparently she didn’t want to run into anymore “old friends”.

“Sure. Just leave a message with Charon on where to deliver.”

She thwapped me in the head. I guess Reapers can do that. Touch ghosts I mean. “Ow.”

“Smart ass.”

“And proud of it. I think it’s the Irish in me.”

“Oh the Irish by no means have the monopoly on being smartasses.” Walt said.

I jumped about ten feet. “Jesus is that silent moving thing genetic or something?”

Walt smirked. “Ready to go?”

I took a last look at my house. Am I? I can hear music from the open front door. Someone laughs, one of those too loud laughs like when they’re covering something up. There was nothing more to say was there? I got to apologize to someone I owed an apology to. There was nothing more to see. Anyone who was coming, was here. And there was nothing more to do. Goodbye house. Goodbye parents. Goodbye friends. Goodbye dog, goodbye cat. Goodbye book that lies on the shelf. Goodbye picture, goodbye moon.

There’s a lot I wish I’d done. I never got to see Disney World, or go to Alaska. I never got to write the next great American folk song. I never read Moby Dick. I never…well shit this list could go on forever. But when it comes right down to it…

“No. But I guess it’s time to go anyway isn’t it.”

Walt nodded, and Ashley took my hand and squeezed it. “Let’s go.”

*****

“The afterlife looks a lot like Denny’s.” I remarked dryly.

To be continued…

Dead Like Me: Dead In DC

2008-05-30T16:40:05Z

Dead in DC
By Benji The Vampire Confuser

Based on the show Dead Like Me which is owned and created by them that ain’t me.

Summary: The Adventures of the External Causes Reaper Division of Washington DC.

Today is the First Day of the Rest of Your Afterlife

You’re all going to die. I hate to remind you, but it is on your schedule. Probably won’t happen when, or how you’d like it to. Take me for instance. Whenever I allowed myself to think about actually dying, I’d always picture it as something heroic, taking a bullet for someone or something. Or in my more dramatic moments, bravely dying of a terminal illness while all my friends and family helped me live my final days or weeks or months or whatever to the fullest. Realistically I supposed however, whenever it happened, I’d want it to be quick. So quick in fact that I didn’t even realize it was happening. I didn’t want to know what hit me. I wasn’t so much worried about pain, I just didn’t want to have time to be afraid of it.

Never, even in my most fevered imaginings did I think I’d go due to an overzealous girl-friend with a thing for breath play. On the one hand, at least I went having, and giving a good time. On the other, as deaths go, it’s kind of embarrassing.

“Hey you think YOU feel bad,” Ashley said. “Think how your girlfriend feels.”

Ashley’s Undead. No, she’s not a vampire, though at the moment she’s dressed like one. I wonder how many vampires are actually Goth. I bet not even half. No, Ashley, as I am soon to be, is a Grim Reaper.

You heard right, a Grim Reaper. Not THE Grim Reaper, A Grim Reaper. Reapers have the not inconsiderable task of taking folks’ souls who are about to die, and sending them on their way to the afterlife, whatever it is. Not even Reapers have the clearance for that information.
So here I am, dead of Asphyxiation, watching my severely traumatized girlfriend weep while my body is wheeled out of her apartment building in a body bag. Which by the way is tactfully covered with a sheet. Well I’m glad they spared Veronica the trauma of seeing the body bag.
“If you’d gone to a professional this never would have happened.” Ashley said.

Up till now I’d mostly been ignoring her, but that comment drew my attention. “Oh? You know a bit about that?” An eyebrow raised, and naughty thoughts as well. Were ghosts allowed to flirt with Reapers? Should I be flirting anyway? Hell my girlfriend is sitting not ten feet from me. I want to reassure her that I’m okay, so to speak, but I’ve got no idea how to go about it.

Ashley smiles mysteriously and looks at her watch. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Okay dead boy let’s get a move on.”

Go? Already? But I’ve barely had time to assimilate this. I was dead. And I don’t mind telling you, there was no end to the relief I felt, being, you know, still around. “So what’s the afterlife like?” I asked. “Really? Heaven? Hell? Reincarnation?”

“Honestly?” Ashley asked. “I have no idea.”

“What?” I can’t believe that. “How do you have no idea? You’re not an angel?”

Ashley barks a laugh and turns to face me, in all her sexy, dark, gothic beauty. “Despite my occasional wearing of fake black feathered wings, do I look like an angel to you sweetie?”

I had to allow that she did not. At least not how most people would picture an angel.

“No my dear,” she continued. “I’m a Reaper.”

“As in Grim Reaper?”

“Only when I haven’t had my morning coffee.”

“Oh. So, did you kill me?”

“Bite your tongue. Reapers don’t kill anyone. We merely take your soul, preferably BEFORE you die so you don’t feel it. Then we guide said soul to it’s destination.”

“So you took my soul?”

“No. Remember the girl that stopped you on the street? Just before you turned onto your girlfriend’s block?”

Can ghosts blush? Cause I was feeling heat on my face. Boy howdy did I remember her. Crazy girl asked my name, and upon learning it, shoved her tongue down my throat. Not a bad kiss at all, but hey, GIRLFRIEND! My guilt over that little encounter may have helped me give in to Veronica’s pleading for my final sex act.

“She called it the `Kiss of Death`.”

I snicker, and cover my eyes for a moment. “Oy that’s terrible.”

“Yeah. Sweet girl but she was kind of a slut.”

“So why isn’t she here?”

“That’s complicated.”

By this time we’ve arrived at a small two door sedan that Ashley unlocks. I reach for the door handle only to see my hand turn into smoke as I try to grip it. My blood runs cold. Or, the ghostly equivalent of that. “Jesus.” I try again, then merely push my hand through the window, watching my fingers reform on the other side of the glass. “Jesus.” I mutter again.

Ashley waits patiently for a moment, a kind of, reminiscent type look on her face. “Hey, John, it’s okay. You’re still here. You’re fine. Just, step through the door and have a seat.
Rrrright. On the other hand, it works, and again, I instinctively do what I did when I was alive, reach for the seatbelt. That doesn’t work either. Can ghosts hyperventilate? I count to ten and manage to relax as the car pulls out and starts following the ambulance. Okay I was a ghost. No problem. I could deal with that. Depending on how much time I had before heading into the hereafter, this could actually be fun. I do seem to recall promising to haunt one of my friends just to fuck with him a bit.

“So,” I ask. “Why are we following the Ambulance. Do you moonlight as a lawyer?”

“Nope, a Dominatrix.”

Okay, can’t say I’m surprised there.

“We’re going to watch your autopsy.”

Ew. “Ew! I don’t wanna watch people cut open anyone’s body, let alone mine!” I shudder. Never could watch the gory horror movies.

“It helps in the saying goodbye thing.”

“So I have to watch my own autopsy?!”

“Well, no you don’t HAVE to.” She glances at me. “Does it really bother you that much? That body in the back of that ambulance, isn’t you. You’re sitting next to me. A dead body is just a shell.”

“Look I’m sure as a Reaper you see this sort of thing all the fucking time, but being dead’s kinda new to me!” I retort. “Just a shell or not, it’s still…” I can’t think of how to finish that sentence.

“Hang on.” She said, pulling over next to a parking meter. Reaching into the glove box she pulls out a cell phone. “Bossman.” She says into the phone, apparently that’s the prompt for dialing someone. “Hey Walt. Yeah it’s confirmed, Susie’s no longer with us.” Is that a tear? Is she getting misty eyed? I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m starting to get that, I ain’t hardly the only one what lost something here today. Jesus my family, how is this gonna affect ‘em? We only lost my Grandmother half a year ago, and my Granddaddy a year before her.

“Yeah he’s right here. Uh huh, no he’s not too keen on it. Kinda squeamish.”

Jeeze she doesn’t have to make it sound like I ran screaming from a mouse or something.

“What’s the point of an autopsy anyway?” I ask. “Isn’t it obvious what killed me?”

Ashley’s still on the phone. “Yeah. Okay.” Finally she finishes and turns to me. “Procedure or something. Anyway, Walt’s gonna meet us there.”

“Who’s Walt?” Bizarrely I get an image of meeting Mr. Disney.

“My boss. He who hands out the post-its.”

“Heh?”

“Later for that.”

Soon enough we get to the hospital. And there’s Walt. It’s not the mouse guy. Which is good ‘cause that’d just have been too weird. Walt’s a heavy-set Native American man with short white hair. He’s got kind of a calm, patient look on his face.

“John,” Ashley introduces us. “Walt.”

Walt nodded kindly at me. “Ashley tells me you’re not too keen on seeing your body.”

“Uh,” I say, a bit distracted. “Yeah.”

Shit, I knew this place. When I was 15 I got my tonsils removed here. And my mom told me I was born here. How weird is this? Born here, and now I return, for the final time.

Kind of in a daze I suppose, I followed them into the hospital and into the morgue. I found I didn’t feel any disgust or even wigged in the slightest upon entering said morgue.

“Excuse me,” Walt said, getting the attention of the coroner. “I’m Professor Walter Berenstein from G.W., this is my student Ashley Waters. I wanted her to observe an autopsy for a paper she’s writing.”

That’s one of the first things you learn as a reaper. How to bullshit. It doesn’t particularly have to be good bullshit, just good enough to last for an hour or so.

“That’s fine,” the coroner said. Though he looked dubiously at Ashley. She didn’t exactly look like a med student. But I guess it takes all kinds right? “As a matter of fact, he continued. “We just got a new case in now.” He walked over to a table with a body on it. The sheet covered everything but the feet. I knew those feet. Not that I pay a lot of attention to my feet, but you get the idea. “John A Hancock.” He read the tag tied to my big toe. “No shit.”
How many times have I had to tell people that that really is my name? While the guy’s back is turned, Ashley turns to me.

“You don’t have to look.” She whispered.

But you know what? I did. Call me morbid if you want but, I just couldn’t help watching as the guy pulled the sheet away, and there I was. Naked. I kinda wished Ashley wasn’t looking, but I felt, actually kinda detached as I edged closer to my body. I look actually kind of, peaceful. I’d have expected either some kind of expression of panic, or well, pleasure. I guess since my soul wasn’t technically in my body at the time, there had been no panic, in fact, I don’t remember freaking out, even when I was losing consciousness.

“I’ll take this kid into the operating theater and you can watch from the audience.” The coroner said. “Weird thing, I heard this kid got suffocated by his girlfriend in a moment passion.” He shook his head, and I glared at him.

“Go ahead,” I growled at him, knowing he couldn’t hear me. “Say something clever.”

“Why don’t girls like that ever fall for me?” he finally said.

“Because being a coroner is creepy?” I asked.

I didn’t watch the actual autopsy. I don’t like gore. I could never watch those shows on cable that had the surgery and stuff, and I never watched gory horror movies.

“So what happens next?” I asked. “I mean after dude down there figures out that I really did die of asphyxiation.”

“Next is your funeral.”

My eyes lit up. “I get to go to my own funeral?” Whenever I did think about my own death, I usually invariably imagined what my funeral would be like.

“Yes,” Walt said. “YOU do.”

I didn’t get to find out why he put it like that until much later.

To be continued…

Carpe Noctem: Extraction Chapter 4

2008-05-24T00:56:55Z

While some of the characters in this story were my idea, the world they inhabit was created by someone else. And the majority of these characters were in fact created by someone else. Joss Whedon mostly in this chapter.

Part of the Omniverse Project

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

“Slaying's what we were built for B.” Faith's voice echoed in Buffy's head as she looked around at the carnage that surrounded her. How in the hell did anyone manage to identify Faith after this? The warehouse was barely a shell.
“What did this?” she muttered to herself. “What could have done this?” Buffy wasn't a tech type. She didn't know if there were bombs that could do so much damage. But she found it hard to believe that something like this could happen naturally.
In the days following Willow's pronouncement of Faith's passing, Willow and the Devon coven had used every resource they could, mystical and otherwise to piece together what had happened. Faith had killed the Demon she'd been sent after. From what they could tell, it hadn't even been all that difficult. Rumble in the underworld was that the Demon had been somewhat preoccupied with another victim.
And that's where the real mystery started. There were rumors flying left and right as to what had happened next. Some were saying another Demon Hunter had been after him, and decided that a Slayer would make a good prize. Some were saying that the Initiative wasn't so defunct after all. Or any number of secret organizations from Department H, The Center, even plain old Interpol.
Willow had even heard that Buffy herself had come after Faith.
The only thing they knew for certain was that Faith had been pursued after the kill. And the chase had involved a young woman, a black helicopter, and a very large boom.
“Slaying's what we were built for B.” Of all the things, crazy and otherwise that Faith had said, why was that particular phrase running through her mind right now? Was this the epitaph she thought Faith should have? Was that really all they were? All they were for? Buffy couldn't believe that.
Maybe that was the real difference between them. In a lot of ways, Buffy would never admit to, she and Faith were very much alike. But Buffy had never believed, had never accepted that Slayers were made only to kill. That they were an expendable weapon. Even after they'd created an army of Slayers she'd refused to believe that. Maybe that's why Faith had flipped. She'd seen only the darkness of the Slayer's role and stopped caring.
“We're not expendable Faith.” Buffy thought. “And we will find whoever did this to you and make sure they don't hurt anyone else.”
The problem was, how?
“How are we going to find any clues in all of this?” she grumbled, kicking at a stray bit of heavy metal container. It skidded across the concrete, almost scuffing the circle Dawn was trying to draw. Her sister glowered at her.
“Do you mind Buffy?” she said. “Some of us actually have jobs to do here.” She regretted it immediately but before she could apologize, Buffy had turned away in a huff.
Dawn sighed. It was the first time she and Buffy had spent any time together since they'd left Italy. Not counting the few times during breaks from college. Not all of those had taken her to Scotland after all, which was where Buffy spent most of her time.
Of course it had taken a death to bring them together again. All of them really. Willow and Xander had emerged from their own “vacations” to help with the investigation. Any death of a Slayer or a Scooby was met with investigation, and usually, pretty bad ass retaliation.
The Devon coven or the handful of sciencey Scoobies usually handled the detective part. But this time was special. This was one of the old guard so to speak. One of the big names.
Faith was as much a legend as Buffy was. Bigger in some circles. Dawn didn't know how much Buffy was aware of the stories that got told. Dawn, being not the Big B herself heard more. Faith had always joked that while Buffy was the one the girls looked up to, she herself was a cautionary tale. But she was only half right. Faith wasn't just an example of what not to do, she was a story of redemption, and hope.
Her death had hid everyone hard. Even those, like Dawn, who hadn't particularly cared for her.

While Dawn was assisting Willow in at least the preparations for the mystical side of this investigation, Xander coordinated a small team of Slayers and friends in checking the mundane evidence.
“According to the Interpol report,” one, a hacker who's skills were impressive, even compared to Willow's, was looking into what had already been found. “Faith's target was under investigation by the Mortal Authorities. Interpol and the FBI it looks like.”
“Aw geeze.” Xander groaned. “But blowing up a warehouse? Pretty overboard don't you think?”
“It wasn't them.” she shook her head. “There was an undercover agent all set to apprehend the Demon...huh.”
“What?”
“Even it's mortal disguise was kinda creepy.” She showed Xander the picture, and he agreed. It was exactly what you'd expect from someone suspected of...
“Okay wow. Even for us? Yikes.” The Demon had allegedly been involved in some pretty heinous stuff. No wonder the Feds were after him.
“Anyway it looks like Faith got to him before they did. Probably saved their lives. Then there was a chase, and Faith ran in here. And then it blew up.” She groaned and face-palmed. “God can't anyone come up with an original explanation?”
“Another gas leak?” the one eyed young man guessed.
“Yeah. But uh, somehow I doubt that's what happened.”
“Any gas leak big enough to do this much damage would have taken out a lot more than just this warehouse.” Xander acknowledged.
“Could it have been a bomb?”
“Maybe, but I don't know of any explosive could have done this. Granted my military knowledge is way out of date.”
“Well if it was mystical” Willow broke in. “We'll know soon. We're ready.” She stood just on the edge of the circle that Dawn had drawn. She was glad that the younger Summers had not only taken art classes in school, but had apparently done well enough in them to fill in the circle with the requisite elaborate runes and symbols.
“Willow,” Giles asked her. “What precisely are you going to do?” It had been many years since Willow had gone over to the Dark Side, but most of her friends still got a slight twinge of unease whenever she invoked either levels of power that were higher than most would, or when she cast a spell none of them were familiar with.
“Basically I'm going to use the circle, and the energy in the warehouse to trace Faith's path from where she killed the Demon, to here. The 'memory' is still in the area and I can make them appear as images in the circle.”
“So, it's like a mystical version of that holographic doo-wonky on that show?” Xander guessed.
“Yep!” Willow smiled cheerily.
“What do you need us to do?” Buffy asked.
“Just don't interrupt me, or disrupt the circle or I'll lose the signal.” Willow could see they were nervous. It didn't bother her. She knew she'd be fine. She knew now that it was not power in of itself, no mater how strong, that determined whether she'd go dark or light. It was entirely her own intentions. She began to chant in a language she was certain no one but possibly Giles would be able to identify. It was a language no one outside the densest jungles of South America spoke. She wasn't even certain it was of this Earth. Her diminutive green mentor certainly wasn't.
As she chanted, she could feel the old connections firing back up. It was a familiar feeling, ever since she'd brought a flower through the earth from Peru to England. This time she was bringing images, and psychic impressions. Less tangible, but also across far less distance.

Giles watched Buffy and the others. Mostly Buffy. He knew this must be killing the girl. He knew she hated feeling useless. Particularly because it was not a feeling she was used to. When the images popped into being in the circle however, his attention was riveted there. The 'picture quality' was not the best. He guessed it was from a combination of both Willow's inexperience with this kind of projection, and amount of time and distance that she was calling them from.
Faith's grunt as her ax buried itself in the Demon's skull sent a pang through all assembled. How strange it was, the things that stuck with you. Faith's inarticulate vocalizations in the midst of battle for instance. She barely had time to recover her breath before she found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. Who knew where the supposed innocent victim of the late demon had hidden it. Her face was unclear. Buffy wanted to ask Willow to try to clear it up, but managed to hold her tongue.
The voice was garbled. They could make out the word 'freeze', and what sounded like three short words. Possibly a designation for some police branch? The hacker was already narrowing down possibilities.
Faith of course, did not freeze. She shoved the demon's body at the new assailant and bolted. The projections of the chase were disjointed, but as it went on, the picture and sound became clearer, as distance and time were lessened.
By the time Faith was in sight of the warehouse where they now stood, they could see her pursuer clearly. Buffy fixed the face in her mind. Then, Faith dashed into the warehouse, and was just in time to see a small, irregularly shaped circular device on the floor.
“Oh sh-” And then fire. Willow gasped, and leaped back from the circle. She was amazed to find that not one of her friends caught her from falling, but all of them did. She took a moment to revel in the warm fuzzies, then composed herself.
“So uhm, that's what happened.”

While the others cleaned up, Buffy paced restlessly. “Who was that woman? Who was she working for?” She whirled on the hacking Scooby. “Anything yet?” she demanded. Her tone was apparently sharper than she'd intended because the young woman flinched away from her.
“There's lots of Government agencies that could have been. It'll take a while to narrow it down.”
Buffy growled and bunched her fingers into her hair.
“Buffy,” Giles said, coming to a decision. “May I speak with you for a moment?”
Uh oh. He had his lecture face on. “Giles I know I need to be patient but I can't stand not being able to do anything.”
“Actually that's precisely what I wanted to speak with you about.” he said. “There may be something you can do.”
“What?” she asked eagerly. She really wanted to slay something or someone right now.
“There is a young man, an apprentice Watcher. One of those who survived the First's attack, who may be able to help us. It's taken me some time, but I've finally tracked him down.”
“How can he help us? Oh God Giles are you sending me on a recruitment mission? You know I hate those.”
“Yes I do. And yes, I am. You wanted to feel useful yes?” he smirked sympathetically.
Buffy sighed with frustration. “I'm supposed to be above those sorts of things by now.” she grumbled.
“This young man may be able to help us not only because he was a member of the Watchers. He was also working for the C.I.A. at the time.”
That stopped Buffy in her tracks. “Yeah buh-what?”
Giles removed his glasses and began to clean them. “He was sent by the C.I.A. to determine if the Watchers were a threat. Shortly before the First wiped out the London headquarters, the young man disappeared. My guess is that he was reassigned.”
“Okay so let me get this strait. You want me to go off to recruit a C.I.A. spook, to re-join the Watchers, this time for real?”
“Precisely.”
Buffy thought for a bit, then gave up. “Fine. He better be James Bond cute though.”

To Be Continued...

Special Features!
From the Personnel Files of Carpet Noctem:

Name: Vincente Natchios

Call Sign: Savant

Supernatural Expertise: Auras, and Ancient Runes

Training: Vincente has had no formal training in his area of expertise but has dedicated much of his life to independent study. As a result he has become quite an authority in the subject.

Special Skills: In addition to an extensive knowledge of Runes and their meanings, Vincente possesses the unique ability to see magic. This ability manifests itself as a distinctive aura around individuals or places with any sort of mystical ability or heritage. With practice and experience he has learned how to identify specific types of auras.

Background: Vincente has been very secretive about his background, but it is known that he was born and raised in Greece. His upbringing was apparently intensely abusive, resulting in an acute unease in the presence of women. He ran away at age 15, and eventually recruited into Carpe Noctem.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer: Heroes

2008-05-03T01:56:55Z

Heroes
by Benji The Vampire Confuser

There's not a lot of time for introspection these days. A surprising amount of day to day slaying is just hanging out by yourself in a graveyard. Nothing but you and your thoughts till the Vamps wake up. Plenty of time for soul searching then. But these days I almost always have one of the more experienced, or a few of the less experienced girls with me. Now we have conversations.

Heck I can't remember the last time I went on patrol by myself. Plenty of time for it now of course.

Sometimes I wonder if I kind of knew. When I was a kid, long before I'd ever heard of Slayers, or Demons, or even Vampires. I wonder if I sort of knew even then what I was supposed to be. When I wanted to be a fire fighter. Or a policewoman. Or a rescue dog. I was three give me a break.

I used to play Wonder Woman with my cousin. Before the freaky Freddy looking demon killed her. Even back then there was a part of me that wanted to be a hero. To be a super hero even.

Somewhere along the line I lost sight of what a hero really was.

By the time Merrick came by and told me that I really was destined to be a hero, I'd grown out of that. I'd been conditioned by life, the media, and my friends. Conditioned into being a typical popular girl. A cheerleader with no more ambition than to marry a hollywood hearthrob.

Then I started fighting Vampires. And the whole thing just kept snowballing from there. And Anya was right. I really did start to think I was better than everyone else. I started to believe my own press. Even that little intervention didn't bring me back down to earth. All of a sudden I had an army at my back and I wasn't just a super hero anymore, but I was the leader of a bunch of super heroes. Legends in the making.

I thought we were above the law. And I really did start to think I was invincible. Well not completely. I'd always known there was the possibility of some monster out there that could take me out.

Monsters. There, in a way was the lesson I had to learn. The lesson I learned yesterday.

Ow, damnit, stupid doctors orders. Stupid doctor's orders that make sense. Stupid leg. God if this is torture for me it must have been hell for Faith. Someone as free spirited as her confined to a bed for that long. I don't know how she didn't go insane again. Maybe they're right. Maybe that's the source of a Slayer's strength. That which does not kill us makes us stronger. And hopefully wiser.

We get so caught up in fighting monsters, stopping apocalypses and supernatural disasters...that we forget, I forgot that there are ordinary threats out there. Every day bad guys. Some of whom make the demons I've faced, even the nastiest ones seem like the pillars of society. I keep forgetting that aside from the times I did die, the closest I got was from a gun. A single bullet can do the job no amount of magic could. I hope to God no demon just decides to snipe me from a rooftop.

I forgot all about the natural disasters. In California they teach you what to do in an Earthquake. In those self defense classes ordinary people take they teach you how to ward off muggers, or rapists. As Slayers we're taught how to fight Vampires and Demons. No one ever told me what to do in a Tornado. And it never occurred to me to learn.

A rookie Slayer is dead and I should have been. As strong as I am, I can't move a ton of concrete. I can't lift a building that collapses on top of you. I can't blow out a fire from a busted gas line. Every part of me is hurting. If I wasn't a Slayer I would have been crushed. As it is I still have massive internal injuries. I have two broken legs and bruised ribs.

Why am I alive? My destiny? No. Another few hours and I'd have been dead by fire, or dehydration, or suffocation or smoke inhalation or something.

I fight monsters. But I don't save people. I'm not a hero.

As soon I get better I'm going to visit my hero. The woman who saved my life, and the lives of I don't know how many others. The woman who might not ever wake up. The woman who has more courage in her little finger than I've got in my entire battered body.

I do what I do because it's my destiny. Because I have super powers. She made a choice to risk her fragile life for people she's never met. And she does it with no powers. And she nearly died getting me out.

That's what a hero is. This is a hard lesson. I hope I've learned it well.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer: Counseling

2008-05-03T01:45:12Z

Counseling
Part of the Omniverse Project
By Benji The Vampire Confuser
B_church@yahoo.com
I got yer feedback right here!

Based on characters and situations created by Joss Whedon.

“Get a divorce.” Xander said.

“Excuse me?” his mother asked.

His father merely looked incredulously at him. “You invite us out for our anniversary to tell us to get a divorce?”

“Look at you two!” Xander continued. “You’re both miserable. You have been as long as I can remember. Maybe you don’t recall, because you’ve always been drunk-“

Mr. Harris’ eyes narrowed, he stood up, glaring at his son. “I am not a drunk.” He hissed. “And I will not-“

“Sit down.” Xander said, his voice hard.

Astonished, Mr. Harris did as he was told.

“Look,” the only child of the Harris family sighed. “I love you. For better or worse, you’re my parents. But you can’t stand one another. And it kills me to see you guys unhappy. Get a divorce. You’re both still young and attractive, it’s not too late to have a life.”

Mrs. Harris’ eyes welled, and her husband swallowed hard. “It’s not that simple son.”

“It IS that simple!” Xander retorted. “What was keeping you together? Me? I’m an adult now, self sustaining, and honestly your staying together traumatized me more than a divorce ever could! What is it the money thing? Just split everything right down the middle! The house fell into the great Sunnydale Sinkhole, so what’s the problem?” he looked at them imploringly. “Please. Don’t do it for me. Think about what you could do if you were single again.”

“Son I’ve never been one to talk about my feelings-“

“I’ll say.” Mrs. Harris muttered.

“Not. Now.” Xander admonished her.

“But just this once I’ll make an exception. When you’ve been married as long as we have…I don’t hate your mother. We might not be well matched but…”

“We married because I was pregnant with you.” Mrs. Harris revealed. “Almost right out of high school. We never had to face the outside world alone.”

Xander shook his head. “Yes you have. You might be married, but you’re both alone. Look. I want you guys to be happy. So get a divorce. You’ll be better off for it. But if that doesn’t sway you then look at it this way. My aborted marriage attempt fell through because I was afraid of becoming you. But I want to get married some day. I want to have kids. And grandkids. But if you can’t get your lives together, then you can’t be a part of mine. You are not going to drag me down with you. Get a divorce. Or go to counseling. And don’t talk to me again until you do.”

The End

Buffy/Angel Fic Bad News On The Doorstep

2008-04-10T23:34:07Z

Part of the Omniverse Project
by Benji the Vampire Confuser
Feedback! Please! [Force Persuade] You want to send me feedback.

I don't own any of these folks, except for Joe. He's an original character. Everyone else I lay the blame, er, give the credit to Joss Whedon.

Summary: Cordelia is dead, but far from forgotten. One by one her friends and enemies speak at her funeral.

Seattle Washington
Thursday February 5th
9:00 am

"Joe?"

His eyes opened blearily. This wasn't Woodstock. But already that weird dream with him playing backup for Garth Brooks and the Who was starting to fade. He sat up and looked at the clock, groaning.

"Joe?"

"Yeah?" he called, answering his mom. "Better be good to get me up this early." he thought.

"Your cell phone is ringing."

Now that she mentioned it, he did hear the electronic beeping of the Entertainer echoing from somewhere in the rented house. He got out of the bed, wincing at the cold floor till he found his fuzzy slippers that looked like big poofy sneakers.

Now where had he left the phone? He looked around the room, he still refused to call it "his" room. His family had rented this house in Seattle using money from the insurance on their old house in Sunnydale. Act of God his ass. Act of Slayer was more like it. He'd been there, driving the getaway van. The one that turned out to be superfluous when Principal Robin had gotten behind the wheel of the school bus.

Now, here he was, no longer moping about dead friends, resting from a tour with his band.
Ah, there was the phone. He glanced at the number. Crap.

"Wolfram and Hart." he muttered. "I said no, and I meant no!" he growled. He'd never REALLY gotten along with Angel. Yeah he was still holding a grudge against him a bit for killing his childhood friend and secret crush Theresa. Then there was that whole killing a few of his other friends in High School. And then breaking his promise to protect Ben. Okay well that wasn't fair, Angel really had tried to stop Ben from becoming a Vampire.

"Hello?" Joe said pleasantly. "What's up?"

He'd expected to hear Lorne try once again to get him to sign with their record labels. That's not what he heard.

"Oh....oh my god. Did she...she s-suff-" He barely heard the reassurances. "Have you called Buffy?"

"Well no." Angel admitted. "She kinda doesn't trust me these days."

"Gee I wonder why." Joe muttered. Aloud he said "This news should come from you man."

"No," Angel insisted. "It should come from someone she trusts."

"In other words you're scared to call her."

There was no answer to that one. "I'll call her." he said. "Have any arrangements been made?"

"I called her parents. They're gonna let me know on the funeral."

"Okay. I'll call you back." He clicked off before Angel could say anything else.

For a few minutes Joe just sat there. Cordelia Chase was dead. The Scourge of Sunnydale High. The butt of endless rantings in the drama club, the object of loathing by him, and most of his friends. He let the tears come, but forced his voice to remain steady as he made the call.

Rome Italy
February 5th
4:00 am

Oh hell no. No the phone was not ringing at 4 am. Whoever it was was gonna learn that Slayers were grumpy in the morning. But the little sister of a Slayer was ten times worse.
"What." Dawn growled, not opening her eyes, having groped for the phone in the dark. She grew less grumpy when she caught the tremor in the caller's voice. "Joe what's wrong?"

Oxnard California
February 7th

Angel, Spike and Harmony weren't there. Well they were, but the had to stay in the Limo so as not to burn to a cinder.

Spike really hadn't known Cordelia. Even when he'd been playing the Big Bad in Sunnydale. Far as he'd been concerned she was just another one of the Slayer's groupies. Still, it wasn't good that she was dead. Spike had always been a big supporter of happy endings for couples. And Angel, prat that he was, didn't deserve to have a girl torn from him like this. He'd chosen to give up Buffy. But Cordy...well. He knew the last person Angel wanted to hear from was him. So he kept silent. Besides. Harmony was providing plenty of keening and wailing for the both of them.

The tears just wouldn't stop coming. Cordelia was her best friend. Yeah okay she was evil, and she'd once or twice tried to kill Cordy but...it wasn't right.

"It's not right!" Harmony wailed, bleeding fresh tears onto Spike's coat. "All those years, surviving Sunnydale only to die like this."

Angel meanwhile, was watching the ceremony through binoculars, and the hidden microphone that Wesley was wearing. He'd tuned out Harmony long ago. He wanted to cry. Hell, he wanted to jump out of the damn car, sunlight or no sunlight. He wanted to do a lot of things. And at the same time, he didn't want to do anything. Why go on? Now even his hope that she would wake up, and come back to him was gone. But he had to go on. That was why she'd come back. To get him back on track. So he would go on. Somehow.

"Cordelia was, well she was my first." Xander said, his voice catching. "My first girlfriend. Which, heh, which was weird because, well growing up we couldn't stand each other. I mean, full blown, look of a thousand deaths hatred. Guess it kind of made sense then. There was a lot I wished I could have said to her. Sorry for one. But in the end, I'm just glad that, the last time we saw each other, it was on good terms."

Willow refrained from giving a eulogy. She just couldn't think of what to say. She and Cordy had never really been friends. And she was told that the last time she'd seen Queen C, she'd really not been herself. But she was proud of Cordy. Proud of how she'd matured, proud of everything she'd heard about her after high school. She wished she could have gotten to know that Cordelia.

Dawn had barely known Cordelia. But she'd hated her. She hated that she'd made Willow sad, Xander ashamed of himself and his life, and Buffy angry. But she'd gotten better. Dawn grudgingly decided maybe Cordelia hadn't been so bad after all.

"Cordelia was my sworn enemy." Buffy said, grinning sadly. "I mean from cheerleader tryouts, to Homecoming Queen, to boyfriends...How bizzarro is it that she wound up being someone I could trust with my life? Truth is, I saw a lot of myself in her. How I used to be. In how she used to be. When it comes down to it, She was one of the best of us."

Giles likewise refrained from making a speech. He didn't know how to say anything appropriate that wouldn't reveal too much about Buffy. About the Slayers. He'd never met a more irritating girl. And yet she'd tried. When she found out just what was going on around her, a hero had emerged from that self centered, tactless young woman. Wasn't right. She'd barely begun to tap her potential. Wasn't right.

"Cordelia was one of the nicest, most caring people I'd ever met." Fred said softly. "She was so strong, she made everyone else around her have to be strong too..." she tried to go on, but couldn't. Wesley put his arm around her and began to speak his piece.

"Cordelia was, was a remarkable young lady." he said. "No matter what hardships she faced, no matter the horrors she had to deal with, she never lost her dignity, her grace. She'd wanted to be an actress, and while that didn't work out, she did find a place in this world. Friends, family. We should all be so lucky."

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved, a wretch...like me..." Lorne's voice shook now and again, but it was still, as beautiful as ever.

"Girl had fire." Gunn remembered. "I mean there was no stopping her from anything she set her mind on. Specially when it came to gettin' close to someone. No matter how hard I pushed folks away, she came right back. Guardian Angels got themselves a real player now."

"Queen C, they called her." Joe was the last to speak. "They being her gaggle of groupies. And I have to say, just how remarkable it is, that half of the people here, were people who back in high school would only have shown up to her funeral to make sure she was dead.

"I never really knew her in High School. Didn't want to. In high school, we're all in our own worlds. When we graduate, we have to deal with the rest of the world. Cordelia had to deal with a lot more than most of us do. And she dealt with it. Hollywood almost ate her alive. That's when I got to know her. I didn't like her in High School. After High School I counted her as one of the best people I knew. Couldn't act her way out of a paper bag," he laughed with the rest of them. "But that's because Cordelia was just too honest. There was no pretending with her. I miss her. I've uh, put together, with help and donations from friends and family, a musical montage of sorts."

With a press of a button, the TV screen behind him came to life.

Home movies, photos, strung together to music.

"I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother, I'm a sinner I'm a saint, I do not feel ashamed..."

We wouldn't want her any other way.

Cordelia Chase
1981-2004

Epilogue
Cordy stood off to the side, watching the proceedings.

"Nice isn't it." Doyle said, beside her.

"Yeah except for the fact that I'm dead."

"Eh," Tara said. "You get used to it."

"So what do dead people do for fun around here?" Cordy asked them.

The End

A Pirate 200 Years Too Late Part 4

2008-04-08T01:25:36Z

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me.” Jack sang quietly rifling through the cabinets. He wasn’t sure he’d find what he was looking for, a house full of girls, only two boys, one of whom fancied men. He doubted he’d find it. With a girl like Buffy in charge it’d be well hidden.

“Oh,” a startled voice behind him. He turned and found the lovely younger sister of the mistress of the house standing in the doorway. “I didn’t know anyone else was up.”

Jack grinned. “Couldn’t sleep either eh?”

Dawn had been disturbed at first by Xander’s transformation. It wasn’t so much the accent, or his weird mannerisms, as his looking at her with great appreciation. Xander had never looked at her that way, and even when she’d had a crush on him she’d been too young to know what to do if he did.

“I just needed a midnight snack.” She answered. “At two in the morning. You?”

“I’ve been transported centuries into the future into the body of my great great and then some grandson. Who lives in a house full of beautiful women, one pouf, and he’s only got one eye with which to gaze upon them. I need a drink love.”

Dawn could barely suppress a giggle. “I think Faith has a secret stash around here somewhere.” She said, and helped him look. Sure enough, a bottle of Vodka was hidden away in the back of the freezer.

“You’re a life saver darling.” Jack sighed, taking the bottle like it was a newborn baby. “Care to join me?”

“Oh no way.” Dawn grimaced. “I’m way too young.”

“Too young to drink?” Jack said doubtfully. “What sort of nonsense is that?”

“Oh, in America you’re not allowed to drink until you’re 21.” She explained.

Jack looked dismayed. “What’s this world come to?” he asked. “Surely you’re not going to let that stop you?”

“Buffy’d kill me. And you.”

“Ah. Well we wouldn’t want that of course. Pity. Still, more for me.” He took a swig from the bottle and closed his eyes in ecstasy.

“Uhm, just be careful.” Dawn warned. “You might have had a high tolerance for alcohol, but I don’t think Xander drinks much.”

“More the fool him then.”

“So you’re taking this all pretty well.” Dawn decided to change the subject.

“How’s that?”

“Well you know, the time travel thing. Not to mention Andrew’s story.”

“So it was true?”

“Well, not the magic sword or the ninjas, or the gunfight. Or the flying bit. But the rest of it was true. Sort of. The Vampire thing was true.”

Jack nodded. “That’s what I thought. And Buffy?”

Dawn seemed to know what he meant. “Well all she knows about Pirates is from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride in Disney world.” His face showed he didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Oh, and she was really scared of Captain Hook when she was a kid.”

“Hook?” Jack choked. “Captain James Hook?”

“You’ve heard of him?”

“I stole a ship from him once.” Jack grinned. “Strange bloke that one.”

“You mean he’s real?”

“As real as Vampires and curses love.” There it was. That light in her eyes. The light that her sister lacked. Among her many wonderful features, this was one of the best. Jack was not a sentimental man. Or not very often. But the look of fire in a young girl’s eyes got him every time.

“So we told you about Xander,” Dawn said, perching on the counter. “Tell me about you.”

“What, sailor stories?”

“I bet a pirate would be full of stories.”

Another swig from the bottle and he smiled. “Very well, have you ever heard of a man named Cortez?”

*****

Many people hated their jobs. Harold was not one of them. He loved his job. Even though some scoffed at it, to him, it was the perfect fit. He was too prone to motion sickness to be a sailor, but he still loved the sea. So where better to work than at the docks. His complexion made him burn easily, so what better time to work than at night? Maybe most people wouldn’t want to be a night watchman at the docks, that made him all the more employable.

The sound of the water lapping against the pylons, the cries of the seagulls, the only thing better would to be a lighthouse keeper, but those were mostly obsolete now.

That, and besides his salary the mob paid him to turn his back on a few smuggling operations.
Life for Harold was quiet, but that was the way he liked it. He was a solitary man, never one for the dating scene. And once they invented Tivo he didn’t have to miss any of his shows.
Yes Harold loved his life. It was a shame that it was cut unceremoniously short when a man came up behind him and slit his throat. He was dead almost before he knew it. Which was kind of how he’d have wanted to go anyway.

*****

“And then they made me their chief.” Buffy heard Xander say.

“No,” She thought. “Not Xander. Jack.” She stood in the hall, listening. The sun had just started to rise and she’d wanted to get up early. To check up on…him. And he was talking to someone.

“Now you’re just showing off.” Dawn’s voice emanated from the kitchen. Buffy paled at the thought. Dawn had been in the kitchen for who knew how long with that pirate?

“It’s the God’s honest truth love.” Jack said. “All except for the Zombie parrot. That was to add a bit of color.”

In spite of herself, Buffy felt herself smile at that. She stifled it. He was a pirate. Pirates lied and cheated, and stole and raped and pillaged and…she shook her head. All she knew about pirates came from that ride in Disney World. But could she trust Disney?

“Dawn,” Buffy announced herself, entering the kitchen. “Don’t you have homework?”

“It’s summer.” Dawn said defiantly. Buffy glared at her. “Whatever.” The younger Summers sighed. “He’s not a bad guy Buffy.” She defended Jack as she stalked out of the room.
Buffy turned her glare to Jack.

“I promise,” he said. “She’s unspoiled. I don’t go where I’m not invited. I’m like a Vampire that way.”

“Comparing yourself to a Vampire might not be the best course of action when talking to a Slayer.” Buffy retorted.

“A point well taken.”

“Hope you got some sleep. Faith and Andrew insisted on taking you sight seeing today.” She saw the empty vodka bottle on the table. “If that’s Faith’s, you’d better hope she likes you more than I do."

To Be Continued…

A Pirate 200 Years Too Late Part 3

2008-04-08T00:25:03Z

Chapter 1
Chapter 2

“Sit my friend,” Andrew began. “Make yourself comfortable, for the tale I’m to tell you is a long one. The story of Alexander LaVelle Harris is one of danger, horror, adventure, courage, and tragic love.”

Jack sat back in the, long cushioned bench they called a sofa. This boy was obviously relishing the opportunity to tell the tale. And it would be a shame to disappoint the great pouf.

Andrew for his part, knew almost nothing about Xander’s part in the saga of Sunnydale California. Before his own recruitment into the scoobies, he was aware of only the barest details. Hardly enough to make for an entertaining story.

But in the words of one of his idols, Geoffrey Chaucer from A Knight’s Tale, a writer gave the truth scope. Jack Sparrow, by all accounts, had been a legend among pirates. And by god, Andrew intended to make sure Xander looked like a worthy descendant.

“The small hamlet of Sunnydale, in the state of California, was to all outward appearances, a peaceful little town. But all was not as it appeared. The populace went about their daily lives, blissfully ignorant of the eldritch horrors lurking just beneath their feet. Monsters prowled the streets at night, preying on the unwary. Even the town’s Mayor, Richard Wilkins served the Dark Forces, surviving for centuries through his dealings with the denizens of hell.

“Into the midst of this chaos was born Xander Harris. A boy who like the town in which he resided, was more than what he seemed. A diamond in the rough. For though he allowed the world to believe him weak, he had a destiny greater than any could have dreamed. His peers thought him a fool, and laughed at his zany antics. But he let them laugh, and little heeded them. But for that laughter, the dark knowledge he possessed would have driven him mad.”

*****

*SNAP-HISS*
Xander’s enchanted blade of light ignited in the dark of the club, humming with holy energy.

“Get the civilians out.” Xander commanded, never taking his eyes off the monstrosity before him. The monstrosity that until the previous evening, he had called friend.

Giles nodded curtly and with the aid of Willow, began to ferry the frightened Bronze patrons to safety.

Jesse threw back the hood of his dark cloak, his vampiric visage enough to terrify a lesser man. But Xander merely felt remorse.

“Xander,” Jesse grinned. “Come on, it’s me, Jesse. You don’t want to fight me do you?”

“You’re not Jesse.” Xander countered. “You’re the thing that killed him.”

“So be it.” With a hiss, Jesse ignited his own enchanted blade, the dark twin to the saber wielded by Xander. “Your blood will feed the Master.”

“Your harvest ends here.” Xander declared, and with a crackling of power, the two blades crossed.

*****

Buffy buried her face in her hands. Willow’s shoulders shook with giggles that threatened to spill over her hand clamped over her own mouth. Faith shook her head in amusement. “Never knew Drew had it so bad for Xand.”

“A light saber duel?!” Dawn whispered, nearly falling out of her seat with mirth. “Xander accidentally staked Jesse, and Andrew’s turning into a light saber duel?!”

*****

“Land ho Cap’n!” the lookout shouted from the crow’s nest.

Black James Kidd took up the telescope from the holster at his side and looked off into the dark before them. Sure enough, the lights of the city loomed ahead.

“Excellent.” He hissed. “Time for some shore leave gents!” he shouted.

“AARRRRR!!” his crew cheered in response. It had been a long hard voyage from the coast of Africa. Many a time they had thought they’d waste away to nothing in the doldrums. It had been a week since they’d exhausted their supply of prisoners. But the sight of land before them, and the promise of looting, pillaging, and feeding brought their spirits right up.

“How shall we take it Cap’n?” his first mate asked.

“Ah how indeed Ms. Callas.” He murmured. “How indeed. Tell me, how would you take ‘em?”

Bonnie Marie Callas thought for a moment. “Tis a major city Cap’n. Goin’ in guns blazing would just attract too much attention. Best we sneak in quiet and take ‘em by surprise.”

James grinned, and kissed her heartily. “An’ that’s why I changed ye lass. Well, one of the reasons. Take us in silent Mr. Chapman.” He said to the helmsman. We’ll be upon ‘em before they can raise proper alarm.”

“Aye Cap’n.”

Quick instructions to the men had them ready to go. Cutlasses readied, pistols loaded. Tonight the cannons would be silent. For the moment anyway.

“Welcome back to San Francisco me hearties.” James growled with relish.

To Be Continued…

A Pirate 200 Years Too Late Part 2

2008-04-06T19:37:18Z

I do not own any of these characters. Well one or two are original. But for the most part they are Disney's and Joss Whedon's.

Chapter 1

Jack flipped through the history book the red head had given him. The blonde had been against it at first, whispering something about a “time paradox”, but Willow had assured her that no time travel was involved. Merely a case of spirit possession. He’d asked her why he couldn’t remember the afterlife at all.

“That’s a philosophical discussion she doesn’t have time to get into right now.” Buffy had said. “She has to figure out how to send you back.”

Jack paused at a paragraph about Blackbeard. “Poor bastard.” He muttered. “We were the gypsies of the sea, some of us more famous than the queen herself. And we’re all boiled down to a paragraph in a book.”

He kept flipping. Two World Wars, the British Empire collapsed, the rise and decline of some new system of government, explosives that could level entire cities, ways of communication that had never occurred to anyone in his day. He wasn’t sure what was stranger, his being here in this time and this body, or the fact that man had walked on the moon. WALKED ON THE MOON!

Who had come up with that idea?

Finishing his business, he rose from the head (toilet they’d called it), and closed the lid. Then he lifted it again. He kind of wanted to see this. Pushing down on the handle that Faith had shown him, he watched in morbid fascination as water and waste swirled out of sight, and clean water replaced it. At least there’d been SOME advances in technology that were worthwhile.

He pulled up his pants and looked at himself in the mirror. Nope, he just didn’t quite see it. Maybe if the boy still had both eyes it’d be easier to see the family resemblance. Of course after a few hundred years of breeding, some of his characteristics could have gone away. Still, nice to see that the old Sparrow good looks had continued their course. Though land life seemed to have added a bit of weight that didn’t need to be there. But there was muscle hiding under all that. He could tell that young Harris worked hard. The calluses on his hands were almost worthy of a sailor.

Deciding it was time to face the world, he swung open the door. “Right then!” he said. “Tell me about myself.”

To Be Continued…

A Pirate 200 Years Too Late

2008-04-06T17:50:08Z

A Pirate, 200 Years Too Late
Part of the Omniverse Project
By Benji: The Vampire Confuser
Yar, send me feedback Matey!
Based on Characters and situations created by Joss Whedon, and Disney.

Xander Harris didn’t get intimidated as easily these days as he used to. But when a 7ft tall Fomori has you by the throat, you tend to give it your full attention.

“Stand aside mortal, it is not your soul I seek tonight. Where is the Slayer?”

“Uhm, this isn’t a good time.” Xander said. “Can you come back tomorrow? Say, sevenish?”

“Bah! No matter, her scent is thick in this place. You need not tell me where she is. But you will herald my arrival.”

“No wait!” Xander shouted frantically, to no avail. The Fomori threw him through the closed door behind him into the center of the room beyond. He never felt himself hit the floor, as energy from the magic being performed coursed through his body. He was unconscious by the time he landed.

“Now you die Slayer!” boomed the unwelcome visitor. He stepped ominously into the room and froze. “Slayers? Plural?! Aw poop.”
It was a short fight.

*****

“Is he okay?” Faith asked, leaning over the boy’s prone body.

Felicia, the med student recently recruited into the Slayers’ ranks, finished her examination. “Physically he’s fine.” She said. “Pulse and respiration are strong and steady, and there’s no sign of shock. However that was a huge magic blast he took.”

“He hit ground zero before the magic could be distilled.” Willow said, concern plain on her face. “It was supposed to be spread out among all 20 of you. And it wasn’t meant for non-Slayers at all.” The spell, a complicated procedure had been meant to allow the slayers to commune with the spirits of their predecessors.

“Willow, “Buffy asked carefully. “What could this spell have done to him?”

“I don’t know,” Willow answered. “Maybe nothing, maybe-“

Xander grunted and sat up. He blinked blearily and a look of confusion came across his face. One hand came up to his eye patch. Frowning, he tentatively moved a finger under the patch.

“Xander?”

Buffy’s voice made him take sudden notice of his surroundings. With a slow lascivious grin, he stood, and bowed with a flourish.

“How do you do ladies?” he asked. Willow gasped, Buffy blanched. Xander’s voice had turned gravely, and he spoke with a slurred English accent.

“Allow me to introduce myself..” he continued. “Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service.”

*****

“Your spell made him insane!” Buffy hissed. “Fix it!”

Willow looked across the room where Faith was drawing great amusement in distracting Xander, or Jack as he called himself. “I don’t know how to fix it.” She said. “But I don’t think it made him insane. In sixth grade we had to do a report on our ancestors. Xander did his on his great great great give or take grandfather. A Pirate named-”

“Jack Sparrow.” Buffy finished. Then it hit her. “A pirate?!”

“Exactly, I think Xander’s been possessed by his ancestor.”

“A pirate?!”

“You needn’t say that with such alarm love.” Xander defended himself, sauntering over to the pair. “It so happens, that many pirates, including myself are very fine fellows indeed.

“Now although I’ve greatly enjoyed being distracted by this strapping young lass, perhaps someone could explain to me what happened to my eye, and who cut my hair, shaved me and for that matter what I’m doing here, in this…very interesting ensemble.”
“It’s kind of a long story.” Willow said.

“It’s 2003, and you’re possessing the body of one of your descendants.” Buffy explained.

“Apparently not that long.” Willow said.

“That’s interesting.”

To Be Continued…

Now Sit Right Back And You'll Hear A Tale: Chapter 5

2008-03-13T01:09:42Z

The same disclaimer and sundries apply for this chapter.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

“Okay,” Robin said. “That’s the third time you’ve looked over my shoulder.” He dropped his napkin to the table and sighed. “Are there Vampires at the bar?”

Faith looked for a fourth time over her date’s shoulder. “No. No Vampires. But I’m pretty sure the guy with the eye patch trying to look inconspicuous is Xander.”

Robin spun in his chair, surprised. Sure enough, Xander Harris was sitting at the bar. “What is he doing here?” he wondered aloud.

“Playing chaperon?” Faith guessed. “I’ll go ask him.”

Robin quickly placed his hand on hers, stopping her. “No, I’ll go ask him.”

“What? Afraid I’m gonna use violence?” He gave her a narrow look. “Hey I don’t always use violence.” She protested. “Sometimes I use sex.”

“I don’t think either approach is warranted in this case.” The former principal said. He sighed as he headed for the bar. He supposed this was to be expected. He was new to the fight really. Xander was one of the originals. He’d been in the thick of things for seven years, and Robin Wood had only been involved for, about a year now. He knew Faith and Xander had some past together. So he couldn’t really say he was surprised that Xander had followed them.
To the boy’s credit, he did not seem to be surprised at having been found out.

“You’re not too good at this covert thing are you.” Robin said, taking a seat next to the one eyed young man.

“What’s the point of being covert?” Xander said. “Unless you go to a biker bar, I kind of stand out.” They were silent for a moment. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here.” Xander said finally.

“No I know why you’re here.” Wood said.

“You do?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Wood replied. “You’re here to watch Faith’s back. But Xander come on. She’s a Slayer. You really think I could do anything she didn’t want me to?”

Xander snickered. “Oh. Oh no. I’m not here to watch Faith’s back Rob.” He looked towards the table where Faith sat watching them, then turned back to him. “I’m here to watch yours.”

*****

“Jack!” Wood called, hurrying after the doctor. “Jack!”

Jack turned and waited resignedly. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re not telling the whole story about the cockpit are you?”

Jack hesitated.

“Jack listen.” Wood told him. “If we’re going to survive long enough for a rescue to come, we’ve got to start trusting each other.”

Jack looked hard at him for a moment, then seemed to deflate a bit. “You’re right.” He started walking again, slower this time. “I didn’t want to start anybody panicking.”

“I’m not one to panic Jack. Never have been.”

“Okay, we found the cockpit, just like we said. But we did find one survivor. The pilot.”

“The pilot’s alive!” Wood exclaimed.

“No. Whatever that thing out there is killed him.”

Wood swore quietly.

“The weird thing is, it didn’t eat him, at least from what I could see. It just snatched him through a broken window in the cockpit, and killed him.”

“There goes Hurley’s Tyrannosaur theory.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Is that it? Is that the big secret?”

“Not all of it.” Jack sighed. “Before he died, the pilot told us that the plane was 1000 miles off course when it went down.” Wood stared at him in shock. “They’re looking for us in the wrong place.”

To Be Continued…