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.
“Wake up!”
Despite the harsh growl and the even harsher slap to his face, Angel did not respond to his captor’s prodding. Blood loss and sheer exhaustion had taken their toll on the vampire with a soul, sending him into the merciful void of unconsciousness earlier in the afternoon.
“Wake up you…”
“Tonio!” Eleni glowered at her second-in-command. The male vampire started, surprised by her unexpected appearance.
“Mistress, I…” he began, desperately attempting to find some way of explaining his actions.
“Silence!” Eleni’s tone brooked no argument. “I sent you here to get Angelus prepared for the evening’s events, not to beat upon him like an undeserving fledgling.”
“Forgive me, Mistress. I…”
“Just go, Tonio,” she said brusquely. Her next words, however, were purposely tempered. Raising her hand to his face, Eleni gently caressed the cheek of her longtime companion. “This is no task for you, not when there are so many important things left to be done. I need you; I need you to oversee the final preparations in the Chamber of Meeting. I do not trust these…local fools, not like I trust you, my dear friend. Go now, keep an eye on everything. Our triumph is upon us, and we must leave nothing to chance. Give me a moment before you send in the others.”
“I will see to it, Mistress,” Tonio promised solemnly. Bowing with all the grace of the courtier he had been in life, the Spaniard exited the room.
Ignoring her minion’s departure, Eleni’s focus her attention on the prone figure chained to the blood-soaked mattress. It was such a shame he had attempted to defy her, she thought, leaning forward to run her fingers through her captive’s hair. Once purposely unkempt, the dark strands were now matted with grime and blood. Yet, even now -- battered, bleeding, and unconscious -- Eleni was still captivated by his dark beauty.
Leaning forward, the Spanish vampiress pressed her mouth to Angel’s, ignoring his unresponsiveness as she attempted to kiss him back to consciousness. Long moments passed as her lips hungrily pressed against those of her captive. When there was again no reaction whatsoever from her prisoner, Eleni used her tongue to trace the outline of Angel’s lax lips.
At the sound of the heavy door squeaking open, the vampiress sighed loudly and pulled away from the prone figure of her future consort.
“Perhaps it is just as well that you remain unconscious, Bellisimo,” she said softly before turning to the three male vampires that hovered in the doorway. In her normal authoritarian tone, she addressed her minions. “See to it that he is properly bathed and dressed. If I am unsatisfied with your work, you will meet the sunrise, si? You may use that hook in the ceiling to secure his chains, but do *not*, under any circumstances, remove the shackles.”
“Mistress?” One of the men questioned quietly.
“What?” Eleni retorted impatiently.
“Your...a...man...Tonio?...”
“Well? What about Tonio?”
“He...a...that is to say...he...”
“He what?” Eleni fumed with impatience.
“He...ah...didn’t give us any clothing to dress this guy in,” one of the other vampires chimed.
“No matter,” she answered smoothly. “I will have somebody return with something...suitable.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Now do your work! Remember, Angelus must be as close to perfect as possible...remember what I said about the sunrise.”
And with that last threat, Eleni swept out the doorway.
It was half past seven when Adam finally returned to the Rosenburg house. The Immortal was not surprised to find that the assembled group was already clearing away the remains of their dinner when he arrived. Fortunately for Adam, Willow had set aside some food for him as well. It was only chicken soup and sandwiches, but it would be filling and light on the stomach -- just as the Immortal had requested.
“There you are!” Willow exclaimed in obvious relief. “We were just getting ready to call you to make sure you were okay. I made up a plate for you, and there’s more in the kitchen if you’re still hungry. Would you like some soup, too?”
For some inexplicable reason, the Immortal felt a wave of emotion rise up from deep within himself. Underneath all her nervous babbling, it was clear that Willow and -- judging by the expressions on their faces -- everyone else had been truly worried about him. It was painful to admit, even to himself, but it had been quite a while since anybody, Joe Dawson excluded, had shown any amount of concern over Adam’s well-being. In fact, the last person who had truly given a damn about him was Duncan MacLeod.
Whatever emotion Adam felt abruptly ended the moment he thought about the wayward Highlander. It was inevitable, but any recollection Adam had of the Scot ended with a mental picture of MacLeod’s descent into madness, courtesy of the demon, Ahriman. Battling back the bitter memories, the Immortal was, once again, all business.
“Soup would be good,” Adam said curtly once he realized that redhead was standing there with a stack of dirty dishes in her hands while she awaited his response to her question.
“Are you all right?” Willow asked. She spoke softly, not wanting to be overheard by the others as they went about clearing the table.
“I’ll be fine,” Adam reassured, giving the girl a small smile for her concern.
“Hey, Willow?”
The Immortal turned at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. He found the source, a blond-haired, teen-aged girl, coming down the stairs from the second floor of the house. Adam searched his memory, but could not recall seeing her before that particular moment.
“Hey, Amy, you hungry?” Willow inquired.
“Nah, I ate before you called. Listen, I’ve got everything set up and ready to go,” the blond spoke, gesturing towards the stairs.
“I’m sorry,” Adam interrupted, his curiosity getting the better of him. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Oh! My bad,” Willow intervened. “Dr. Pierson, this is Amy Madison. Amy...Dr.Pierson.”
The two exchanged wary nods before Amy shied away from the Immortal’s intense scrutiny. Without any further comment, the girl followed Willow into the kitchen, leaving Adam alone in the dining room with Giles.
“Okay, I’ll give,” Adam sighed as he took a seat at the table. “Who is she and what is she doing here?”
“Her name is Amy Madison,” Giles supplied, watching the Immortal as he dug into his meal. “She attends Sunnydale High School and, like Willow, she is a...student of witchcraft.”
“Isn’t there *anybody* in this town that’s normal?” Adam muttered around a mouthful of sandwich.
“I can see how one might get that impression,” the Watcher chortled.
“So, will she be joining us later?” Adam frowned, uncertain how the second witch would fit into his overall strategy for the night.
“Not exactly,” the librarian answered.
“I don’t follow you,” the Immortal stated, confused by Giles’ words.
“Although Amy has been...of assistance to us from time to time, she rarely becomes directly involved in our... activities,” he explained, unaware that Adam was beginning to recall reading about some of the groups interactions with the girl from Giles’ diary. “You see, Amy, like Willow, is still learning the craft at this stage.”
“Are you trying to tell me that Willow is just a *novice* at this? After what she did in the library?” Adam was truly surprised by the Watcher’s revelation. Based on what he had witnessed with his own eyes, he had assumed that Willow was much more...adept...than she apparently was. Concealing his reaction behind a blank expression, he listened as Giles continued to speak.
“Well...actually? Yes. Although Willow may, in fact, have a great amount of raw power and innate ability, she *is* still a relative beginner at spellcasting. It does appear that she has great potential. Amy, however, has been studying the Wiccan arts for a longer period of time. Of the two, it’s Amy who has greater control over the spells she casts, which is why she is here tonight. Amy is going to assist with Willow’s protection spell. By adding her strength to Willow’s, it should last at least a half an hour or so longer. Amy also found a way for Willow to end the spell at anytime of her own choosing, rather than having to wait for it to wear off gradually.”
“Ah,” Adam nodded, happy to have another warm body to help with their offensive. Plus, having a way to ‘turn off’ the spell would be an incredible asset when the time came. “I think Amy would be most useful if she went with your group tonight.”
“Umm,” Giles hesitated. “Amy won’t be joining us for the actual confrontation.”
“Really,” the Immortal commented flatly. Although he understood the girl’s desire for safety better than most, Adam couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed.
“Amy and Willow will cast the spell just before you both enter the sewer, but she’ll be leaving directly thereafter.”
“That’s a pity,” Adam replied honestly. However, in less than a minute, he was already thinking of other matters. Pushing his now-empty plate away, the Immortal turned to the librarian. “I’m off for a shower and a few minutes of rest. Make sure that everyone is set to walk out the door at ten o’clock sharp.”
“I’ll see to it,” Giles called to the figure retreating up the staircase. Sneaking a glance at the grandfather clock in the living room, the Watcher clamped down on the butterflies flittering around in his stomach. Once he had his fears somewhat under control, he stood to go round up the teenagers.
It was less than two hours before show time.
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