Title: You Forgot To Mention Hell, Horatio
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Status: Complete
Warnings: Nope. Not this time.
Category: Crossover with Highlander
Disclaimer: All other characters belong to their respective owners and are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.
This is what happens when you get involved with too many different fandoms.
Universe setting: For you Highlander fans, this story takes place sometime after ‘Archangel’ (sorry to all those Richie Forever people). Please forgive me for playing with the timelines of the shows, but hey, it’s fan-fic and I can do that ;-)
Thanks: As always, to Carrie, and to Marius, the oak and the ash to my birds in the forest.

“’I say we take off and nuke the entire site form orbit -- it’s the only way to be sure’,” Xander quoted, drawing grim smiles from the three other teens gathered around the table. Seeing the lost expressions on the respective faces of the Immortal and the Watcher, he felt obligated to explain the reference. “Ripley? Aliens? Sci-fi/action? Movie? A talkie, even? Ringing any bells?”

“Sharp sword? Finely-honed blade?” Adam shot back with a surprising lack of malice. After ninety minutes, even the Immortal was feeling a little punchy. By that particular point in time, they had discussed so many ‘out there’ ideas, Xander’s latest almost seemed viable -- despite its questionable origins.

The simple truth was that they needed to reach a decision and, more importantly, they needed to do so quickly. Exhaustion and fatigue were rapidly becoming as great an enemy to those assembled as the Army of Legion itself.

Sweeping a surveying gaze around the table, Adam took careful note of the dark, purple circles that underscored everybody’s eyes. Xander’s hands were shaking, undoubtedly a result of the massive amounts of caffeine the kid had been consuming since entering the library hours earlier. Willow had steadily been excusing herself to go to the bathroom. Judging by the blush on her face each time she got up, the Immortal guessed that stress and exhaustion were playing havoc on her digestive system.

“Tell me again why we can’t just blow up the tunnels?” Cordelia whined, willing to go along with any plan that would allow her to get a few hours of sleep.

“We’ve already been over this,” Giles sighed, sifting through the myriad of papers on the table before him. Finally he found what he was searching for: a basic blueprint of the Sunnydale sewer system, compliments of the Town Department of Works and Willow’s hacking abilities. “The area in question rests directly under the hospital...”

“So what?” Cordelia said harshly. “Call in a bomb threat, pull the fire alarm, whatever, I don’t care. But let’s just do *something*!”

“What about Angel?” Willow protested for the umpteenth time. It had been the redhead’s standard response to almost any idea that involved a massive attack on the ceremony. Yet, short of hand-to-hand combat, not one of them, the Immortal included, was able to devise an assault that did not leave Angel in immediate peril.

Being the outsider at the table gave Adam the advantage of objectivity. For the group from Sunnydale, the goal for the evening was to stop the Prophecy of Legion tonight with the least amount of risk to themselves.

At least, that was *their* objective.

True to his nature, the Immortal was concealing a more mercenary goal: helping Duncan MacLeod at any cost short of Adam’s own head. Unfortunately, if that meant the injury or death of any of those he sat next to at the moment, he would simply force himself to accept it as collateral damage.

In all honesty, Adam seriously doubted the survival of most of the Sunnydale natives in any kind of direct assault on the ceremony, including the captured Angel. While such losses would be regrettable, Adam doubted he would lose much sleep over it.

In spite of his callous thoughts, the Immortal had no intentions of using any of these people as cannon-fodder. Truth be told, he honestly hoped that they would collectively come up with an idea that would spare as many of their lives as possible. However, in the Immortal’s not-so-humble opinion, sacrificing any of their lives to save Angel was an unacceptable risk. It was time to make Willow understand that fact.

“Willow,” Adam began softly, feeling genuine sympathy for her in light of what he was about to say. “We’ve been over this up, down and sideways, and there doesn’t seem to be any way to safely rescue Angel -- at least, not without risking serious damage to the rest of you.”

“But...there has to be *something*,” she protested wildly.

Up until then, the Slayerettes had closed ranks, not surprisingly since it was ‘one of their own’ in danger. Even Xander and Giles, the two people with the most reason to dislike Angel, were unwilling to seal the vampire’s fate until they were certain that all of their available options had been explored. But reality was a harsh thing, and Giles was beginning to see the futility of continuing to argue the matter.

“Willow,” the Watcher said, his face revealing his regret. “I think...I think we should consider what is at stake here. We are talking about the fate of the entire world...”

“And so that’s just too damned bad for Angel?”

All heads turned at the angry words that came not from Willow, but from the most unexpected source of all: Xander.

“Yeah,” Willow agreed, sending a grateful look in her oldest friend’s direction. “We’ve done this ‘biggest threat, end of the world’ thing before, and...well, not to sound cocky...well, okay maybe a little cocky...we’ve always kicked some serious demon booty.”

“Booty?” Xander questioned Willow’s choice of words.

“You know what I mean,” the petite redhead scolded.

“Yes, we have,” Giles agreed, only to bring the pair back down to earth with his next words. “But we’ve also never faced five hundred vampires at one time before, either. And without B...” the Watcher trailed off, afraid of demoralizing the teenagers by reminding them that they would also be fighting without the Slayer as well.

“So we don’t have Buffy,” Willow rallied. “Look at w-what we do h-have. We’ve got an Immortal, a Watcher, a witch, a werewolf, and a...a...”

“...a future plastic surgery candidate and a Zeppo,” Xander said in a tone that was the textbook definition of false bravado. However, soon enough, he seemed to be drawn in by his own enthusiasm. “I say we go and open a big old can of demon whup-ass on the Legion. War is hell, and gentleman... and ladies, we’ve got a war on our hands here. But we can take them on, one at a time, or all together. I say we have fun storming the castle, that we go out there and win one for the Zipper...”

“Gipper,” Giles corrected.

“Whatever. The point is...well...I’ve forgotten the point...but now that I have...I’m back to being very nervous, *very* mortal guy. What exactly were we talking about again?”

“We were attempting to decide which option would be the best approach to take,” Giles reminded, looking toward the Immortal for support

Adam, however, had at some point ceased paying attention to the conversation. His normally carefully- controlled face was, for a change, completely open for all to see. Instead of the distant, vaguely curious look that he so often wore, the Immortal’s expression was a mixture of deep thought, a great deal of calculation, and more than a hint of wonder.

“Dr. Pierson?” Willow inquired cautiously to no avail. “Dr. Pierson?”

“What?” Adam started. “I beg your pardon, what were you saying?”

“We were getting ready for another round of pointless argument,” Cordelia informed him disinterestedly.

“What again are the known ways to kill a vampire.” Adam’s voice was so distracted, it almost sounded distant. In a way, the Immortal was distant, in thought, anyway. His mind was occupied with the task of examining hundreds of variables, exploring each option as a rat ventures down corridor after corridor in a maze.

“Well, there’s staking, sunlight, fire, decapitation...” Giles recited.

“You should be pretty familiar with that,” Xander pointed out.

“You forgot massive blood loss,” Willow added. “And crosses and holy water will hurt them.”

As if suddenly coming to life, Adam’s hand shot out to grab the sewer plans that had been resting directly in front of Giles. Grossly absorbed in the schematics, the Immortal ignored the silent, questioning looks and helpless shoulder shrugs the Slayerettes were exchanging over his actions. Finally, Adam allowed himself a calculating smile.

“Willow,” he called. “Would you mind looking up some information on the computer?”

“No...I mean, yes, sure,” the redhead answered, already up and moving. “What do you want me to look for?”

“I need you to get a list of the heavy vehicles Sunnydale has in its Town Works Department. I’ll also need to know the location of the motor pool for those vehicles. Also, see if you can put together a list of all the food manufacturers within a two hour radius of Sunnydale. Do you have all that?” he asked, satisfied when she nodded in agreement.

“Giles,” Adam had taken up the teenagers’ habit of addressing the librarian by his surname. “I’ll need a list of all fire stations in town along with their locations. Xander? Would you mind showing me what weapons you have available? And Cordelia? Do you think you can find a phone book around here somewhere? Oz? Maybe you can go for some food? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m starving.”

“I don’t suppose you’d mind sharing whatever all this is leading up to?” Xander questioned.

“It may be nothing,” Adam answered honestly. “Let’s just wait a bit and then I’ll be happy to tell you.”

As they all set to their appointed tasks, Cordelia and Oz headed for the library doors.

“Geez, he gets one lousy idea and suddenly he’s ordering all of us around like some kind of Simon LeBon.”

“Legree,” Oz corrected.

“*What*ever.”

Even in the cold, dark recesses of the sewers, Angel sensed the sunrise when it came -- hours ago. Half-mad with a thirst more powerful than any he had ever known, the time crawled by painfully slowly. He was still chained to the bed where Eleni had left him hours ago. After the short feeding from the vampiress minion, they had left him completely alone, with only his hunger and his thoughts to keep him company. While the blood he had been given kept Angel from certain death, it was nowhere near the amount he needed to regain even a small measure of his previous strength.

Around the same time that Adam Pierson was concocting his plan across town, Angel’s solitude was finally broken.

“Buenos dias, Bellisimo,” Eleni chirped cheerfully as she swept regally into the cramped room. “A good day, is it not?”

Angel could do nothing but stare aghast at the vampiress. Even as a vampire, he couldn’t comprehend how she was able to completely ignore the fact that he was covered in a crusted, dried up layer of blood. Angel had given up on trying to prevent further injury to his wrists. The effort required to keep his arms raised slightly above the flesh-tearing edges of his manacles was simply too much for him after a while. For the past few hours, the sharpened edge of the cuffs had rested solidly against bone. Not that it mattered much, for Angel had, mercifully, lost feeling in both of his arms long before the sun rose. The only good thing about the situation was that the intruding metal helped staunch the bleeding of his wounds.

“What’s so good about it?” Angel snarled, or tried to, anyway. His throat was so dry that the words were barely discernable amidst his painful coughing fit.

“Oh, come now, Bellisimo,” Eleni chided. Perhaps there was some pity left in her unbeating heart, since she reached for the abandoned cup on the dresser and dipped it into the basin of nearby blood. Bringing the cup to Angel’s lips, she continued speaking. “By the end of the night, we will unleash the Prophecy of Legion upon the world. You and I together, leading the army that will subdue everything in our path. You will have everything you have ever wanted, power, the adoration of all you encounter, and you will be mine.” As she said the last part, Eleni’s free hand traced along the muscled plane of her captive’s chest.

If he had possessed the strength, Angel would have rolled his eyes. Just what the world needed, another megalomaniac vampire, he thought to himself. Relaxing slightly, he ceded some of his remaining control over his demon.

“Please...more,” he pleaded.

“More of what?” Eleni asked, her voice dropping to a husky, seductive tone. To emphasize her question, the vampiress’ hand grew bolder in its exploration of Angel’s flesh.

“Whatever you want most,” Angel responded, using as much of his considerable charm as he could muster under the circumstances.

Charm alone, however, was not enough for Eleni. As much as she enjoyed seeing the handsome vampire at her not-so-tender mercy, it was obvious that she found Angel distasteful in his present state. Wrinkling her nose in a very human way, the vampiress yanked her hand away from Angel’s chest. In a dismissive gesture, she patted her captive’s cheek before turning and stalking back to the door.

“Tonight, Bellisimo. Tonight I shall give you pleasures beyond any you have ever dreamed. But first, there is much I must attend to for the ceremony.”

With that said, Eleni puckered her lips, sending an airy kiss in Angel’s direction, before closing the door behind her. Her second-in-command, Tonio, awaited her in the corridor.

“He may be beautiful to look at,” she said sharply in Spanish, “but right now he smells like a pig. Give him another cup or two of blood, and change the shackles. And you’d better find a shirt for tonight that will cover the marks on his wrists. If he is to be seen with me, his appearance must not be less than perfect. Choose three of my people to attend to him before the ceremony, and make sure they are all men. I will not tolerate any of these ignorant American women touching that which is mine.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Eleni moved away quickly. She still had a lot to do before she took over the world later that night.

Bit by bit, the elements of Adam’s plan began to come together. Only then did the Immortal disclose to the others what exactly he had in mind.

“Are you completely insane?” Giles hissed as the teenagers exited the library. Using what he knew about his newfound allies, Adam would be calling upon each of them to assist in various stages of the preparations for his overall plan. As it happened, Giles was to help with this particular part of the logistics. However, knowing that they would all need as much rest as they could manage, Adam had sent the teenagers to Willow’s house to try and get some sleep.

“I’ve been accused of being many things in my life. Insane is just one of the more flattering descriptions,” the Immortal answered with his patented brand of wry humor.

“What you are planning is completely reckless, reprehensible, and you are needlessly risking the lives and safety of these children…”

“Reckless? Reprehensible? You think I *want* to see anything happen to those kids?” Adam chastised. At least Giles had the good grace to look sheepish at the rebuke. “Correct me if I’ve been mistaken, but I thought we all were after the same thing: to stop the Legion Prophecy. *That* is what this plan is supposed to do, with as little risk to you, those kids, me, and believe it or not…Angel as well.”

“I know that,” Giles whispered with heartfelt conviction. “But this plan of yours…so many variables…so many things out of your control…too many things that could go wrong.”

“I know,” Adam said with honest sympathy. It wasn’t, by far, the best scheme he’d ever come up with, but for the moment, it was the best one they had. “If anybody had another…safer…alternative, I’d be more than willing to work with it. However, since that isn’t the case, it may be best to stick with what we’ve got.”

Realizing that Adam had a point, Giles sighed deeply as the Immortal gestured for the Watcher to lead the way to the door. The librarian complied, doing his best to conceal his fretting the entire way.




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