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.

Once the blood ceased to flow through Adam’s veins, the vampire lost interest in the vessel that had been his salvation. He tossed away the arm in his hands like a human would an unwanted chicken bone after a large dinner.

“A...Angel?” Willow gasped, her eyes wide at the display she had just witnessed.

At the call of his name, the vampire cocked his head in the witch’s direction. He spent a long, tension-filled moment looking directly at Willow. Then, as if changing his mind, the dark head turned away with a deep growl.

Startled by the sound, the young witch’s eyes flew towards Giles. The Watcher shook his head slightly, signaling that while it may have been Angel’s body lethargically resting on the ground, the demon that resided within it was obviously in control.

“H..how is Dr. P..Pierson?” the Watcher queried, ignoring the need for reassurance he saw in Willow’s expression.

Fighting down her own panic, the teenager cautiously reached two fingers out in the direction of the Immortal’s neck. Willow took care not to rile the motionless vampire, especially not the way he was hovering over Adam’s body like a lion keeping watch over a recent kill.

Although Angel growled at her again, he reluctantly allowed her to proceed with her intention. Releasing a breath she was unaware she’d been holding, Willow’s hand completed its trek toward Adam’s neck. After a moment or two of feeling around for a pulse, Willow shook her head negatively.

“I...I thought he...couldn’t die,” Xander whispered roughly.

“It’s not a matter of dying so much as...,” Giles began.

“Look!” Oz interrupted whatever the Watcher had been about to say. All of their eyes, including the rich browns of the vampire, followed to the spot that the werewolf indicated with a pointed finger.

The place that Oz found so interesting was Adam’s sliced-opened wrist. For underneath the thin, glistening layer of blood, hundreds of tiny, electrified threads of blue were suddenly emerging. Like some kind of mystical thread, each strand twined and curled, regenerating skin and knitting together the edges of the wound. Within seconds the large gash that had ended the life of Adam Pierson had completely disappeared, leaving behind a whole and healthy layer of flesh. In fact, if it hadn’t have been for the thin layer of blood that remained from the earlier wound, it would have been impossible to tell that the area was even injured in the first place.

Each and every one of the assembled humans looked on in slack-jawed astonishment. After all, it was one thing to intellectually grasp the concept of immortality. Seeing it in action was something completely different. Unnerved and at a loss, the group sat somewhat anxiously waiting to see what was going to happen next.

Seconds or minutes -- none of the Slayerettes would ever be able to recall just how long they had been forced to wait. But not one of the Slayerettes had the slightest idea what they were, in fact, waiting *for*. It was not long, however, before their attention shifted, though, because it was at that point that Angel began moving again.

He did not go far, but after his long period of stillness, the way Angel lifted his head and began to peer from Slayerette to Slayerette was definitely unnerving. It left all of the mortals with the distinct impression that the vampire was looking for his next meal. His face contorted, not changing into his demon visage, but into that of a pain-filled wince as he internally struggled for control over his baser nature.

Then Angel’s line of sight shifted, drifting out into the dimly lit street beyond them. The vampire cocked his head, as if he were sensing something off in the distance. Before he could identify it, however, Angel’s hands flew to his head in a useless attempt to ward off the pain that suddenly hit him.

The source of the pain was soon to become abundantly clear to the rest of the Slayerettes.

It happened suddenly to say the least. One second, Adam Pierson was just another corpse -- dead from massive blood loss. In the span of a heartbeat, the Immortal’s eyes dramatically flew open. With a huge, gasping breath, Adam sat up, drawing much needed air into his empty, oxygen-starved lungs.

The rest of the group remained frozen in place, in shock over the miracle they had just witnessed. Their surprise stemmed not so much from seeing a body suddenly reanimate -- after all, they lived in Sunnydale, the vampire-haven of the West Coast. No, what was so unusual was watching a dead body actually come back to *life*.

“I hate that part,” Adam mumbled more to himself than to anyone else.

No matter how it appeared, reviving after a death was both physically and emotionally draining to even the most resilient of Immortals. It was always a struggle to put the pieces together -- to remember what the cause of death had been this time, and more importantly, to make sure that whatever had caused the last death was not still lying in wait.

It only took a single glance at the stunned faces before him for Adam to accomplish the former. Sadly, he never got the opportunity to attempt the latter.

Once the feral version of Angel got over the surprise of witnessing Adam coming back to life, instinct quickly took over. Reaching forward with a bone crushing grip, the vampire grabbed a hold of Adam’s head and chest from behind. Too weak and disoriented to react, Angel had Adam pinned to the ground within the blink of an eye. Roaring in satisfaction, the vampire sprang forward over his newly-acquired captive.

As if sensing the impending danger to the still-groggy Immortal, Willow shuffled forward on her knees. She had no idea why her friend was attacking Adam, especially after the Immortal so graciously allowed the vampire to feed from him. Whatever the reason, though, the young redhead hoped that she might be able to ‘get through’ to the Angel she knew and called her friend.

The vampire, however, was decidedly unreceptive to Willow’s attempted intrusion. Shifting his hold to keep the Immortal immobile, Angel freed one of his hands, swiftly raising it against his closest friend in the world. With all the precision of a striking cobra, he reached out and shoved Willow away from both himself and his prey.

Worried about his ex-girlfriend, Oz ran forward, determined to pull her away from possible danger. It was clear to the werewolf that, despite his recent feeding, Angel was clearly not yet himself. Oz’s suspicions were confirmed moments later when the vampire once again lashed out, not only shoving the teenager away from himself, but from Willow as well.

Staring menacingly at the pair sprawled on the ground, the vampire snarled not only at them, but at the rest of the Slayerettes as well. Somewhere deep within, the werewolf part of Oz recognized the warning in Angel’s growl -- one predator to another. Oz instinctively lowered his eyes, clearly trying *not* to antagonize the vampire by looking directly at him. Taking care not to make any sudden movements, the werewolf backed slowly away, pulling Willow along with him as he went.

For his part, Angel never took his eyes off the retreating pair, even as the Immortal beneath him continued to struggle. Adam’s fidgeting was useless, however. The vampire had him trapped like a fly caught in the center of a spider’s web. Sensing that fact, Angel finally leaned down and savagely attacked Adam’s long, exposed throat.

Like all Immortals, Adam’s neck was the most vulnerable place on his body. Sever the head and the Immortal would die. Even smaller wounds -- bruising, strangulation -- to the area were slower to heal than other places on the body. Damage to any other part of an Immortal’s body would completely heal, leaving the area as pristine as before it was injured. But when it came to the neck of an Immortal, it was a different story. Cuts to the area often left behind deep scars that never completely regenerated.

Perhaps it was this deep-seated knowledge that caused Adam’s initial confusion to be instantaneously replaced by hundreds of years of survival instinct. Faced with the possibility of a death that he would not be able to revive from, the Immortal tried to defend himself from the vampire’s assault with all his might.

It was intense, to say the least, and yet after Willow’s and Oz’s attempts, none of the humans dared to enter the fray. Angel was growling fiercely, using his superior strength and leverage to keep Adam immobile. At the same time, the Immortal was struggling as best he could to free himself from the vampire’s clutches.

To make matters worse, Angel’s inability to switch to his game face was drawing out the fight. Without his fangs to quickly -- and neatly -- pierce the tender skin of Adam’s throat, the vampire was left with no choice but to use his flat front teeth to gnaw, slowly biting through the uncooperative flesh. The results were not only grotesque, but frustratingly painful for both men.

The sounds of two distinctly different screams echoed through the stillness of the night as Angel’s teeth finally bit into Adam’s jugular vein. For the vampire, it was a cry of elation as copious amounts of warm, luscious blood began flowing into his mouth. The Immortal, however, was howling in outrage at this unexpected violation of his person.

Both Adam’s screaming and flailing faltered as time and massive blood loss took their toll. If anything, death was coming faster this time -- probably because his body had not yet had the time to repair itself completely from the last attack upon it.

If the Slayerettes had been disgusted by the feeding they watched only minutes earlier, the second one left them filled with abject horror. Giles had long since turned away, left praying that Jenny’s death at Angelus’s hand had been nothing like this prolonged nightmare. Cordelia and Xander chose ignorance over knowledge, holding desperately on to each other with their eyes tightly shut.

That left Willow and Oz braving it out to watch the atrocity taking place before them. Eventually, even the werewolf’s eyes wandered away, staring intently off in the direction of the nearby water truck. Finally, Willow was the only one left to bear witness to what transpired next.

It began as a throaty moan, recapturing all of the Slayerettes attention as it increased and intensified. Without any warning whatsoever, the vampire brutally shoved the Immortal’s unresponsive body away, staring at it in horrified disbelief.

“No...No...NO!” Angel protested, refusing to accept what he had just done.

No matter what he wanted to believe, he could not deny the truth when the proof of his actions was lying on the ground in front of him. Leaning over to clutch the dying Immortal in his arms, Angel’s vampiric hearing picked up the weakening sounds of Adam’s heartbeat. Rocking the slender form back and forth, Angel heard the erratic sound gradually slow, and then completely stop.

Had he been thinking clearly, Angel might have recalled that Adam was an Immortal. But he had been through too much that night and, despite the new blood occupying his veins, Angel was still too far gone to recognize the reality of the situation. All he knew was that, once again, he had ended the life of another individual, and it was simply too much for the vampire to bear. Throwing back his head, Angel howled his despair and outrage into the night.

Of all the spectators, Willow was the only one brave enough to try and approach the distraught vampire. Rising to her knees, the redhead attempted to shuffle closer to her friend, trying admirably not to startle him while he was so obviously distressed. Whispering his name softly, the young witch reached out a hand in the direction of his shoulder.

Her attempt, however, was foiled when the vampire all but collapsed sideways, dragging Adam’s now-dead corpse with him. Angel’s eyes were damp with what they all assumed to be guilt-driven tears. Calling out his name again, Willow was surprised when the vampire’s hands flew up and began pressing tightly against his temples.

“Angel, it’s okay,” she tried to reassure him. She heard distance footsteps striking the pavement in the background somewhere behind her, but she did not bother to turn around, assuming the cause was one of the other members of the Scooby gang coming over to help her. Focusing all of her attention on Angel, Willow continued to try and reach the distraught vampire with her hushed words. “You didn’t do anything permanent. Dr. Pierson... Adam...he’ll come back. Just give him a few minutes.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Jolting at the unexpected sound of a new voice, Willow turned around and found herself ten feet away from a sword-wielding stranger.

As if of one mind, all of the Slayerettes turned in the direction of the intruding voice. They were all more than a little taken by surprise at what they found.

If they had to guess, most of them would have said the man standing there was in his early thirties. Somehow, his dapper manner of dress -- Brooks Brothers, Cordelia noted with an approving eye -- seemed to reflect the upper-class British accent with which he spoke. He seemed normal enough, except for the pair of what looked like Adam’s high-powered binoculars hanging around his neck. Well, that and the fact that he was holding a rather well-polished sword in his right hand.

Which also meant that he was probably an Immortal.

Coming to the conclusion at the same time, both Willow and Giles stole quick glances at Angel. The Watcher mumbled something that sounded like ‘of course’ under his breath as he noted the vampire’s state of discomfort.

At first, Giles had assumed that the vampire’s renewed state of agitation was caused by his guilt over feeding off Adam the second time without the Immortal’s consent. Only now did the Watcher realize his mistake.

And if Angel’s reaction was not enough proof, then the sword the stranger was still holding at the ready was definitely the giveaway.

“Who...are you?” Xander rasped, breaking the silence that had settled over the group.

“None of your concern, lad,” the stranger replied in a clipped tone. A look of curiosity crossed the Immortal’s face as he continued. “I have to admit that I’m left wondering what all this,” he used his free hand to gesture from the trucks to the open manhole, “is about. But then again, it’s not really my business, now is it? I’m just here for *that* one,” he nodded in Adam’s direction, spitting his last words with great distaste.

“That man just helped to save thousands of lives tonight,” Giles defended, pulling the new Immortal’s attention away from the pair on the ground.

“I don’t care,” the Immortal sniffed airily.

“Now see here...” the Watcher began. Before he could continue to protest, however, he was interrupted by a shaky voice.

“The...only way...you’re going to get to him,” Angel said as he struggled to his knees, “is by coming through me.”

By speaking aloud, Angel drew the attention of the new Immortal, thus providing the direct eye contact he needed. Once their gazes met -- both filled with an intense wariness -- it relieved the discomfort that plagued the vampire. Instantly feeling stronger, Angel reached for the broadsword that lay abandoned at Adam’s side.

The Immortal, however, seemed to take Angel’s threat in stride, simply rolling his eyes as if it were to be expected. Even the additional menace of Willow and Oz taking a step closer to the unmoving man on the ground did not deter the newcomer from the challenge he had just issued. He was a man on a mission, and that mission was to take the head of the Immortal known as Adam Pierson.

“So you know what he is. I thought as much after what I saw. I don’t want to fight you,” the man stated calmly, although he grimaced a bit at the sight of Angel.

The Immortal’s reaction was not so surprising, given that the vampire’s face was still covered in blood from his earlier, excessively messy feeding. Even without the ability to morph into his vampire visage, Angel’s current appearance still left him looking like some creature straight out of Hell. Having noted the Immortal’s reaction, Angel decided to use the man’s discomfort to his advantage.

“And I don’t really want to fight you...” the vampire trailed off, but then quickly continued as if he had just suddenly changed his mind. “No, I take that back. That one didn’t put up much of a fight. You might be more challenging.”

“You’re not even one of us!” the Immortal gasped. But Angel was already bringing his borrowed sword into an offensive position.

“Maybe that should tell you something,” the vampire warned. “After all, he’s dead -- well, for the moment, anyway,” Angel smirked in Adam’s direction, “and I’m still standing.”

“Fine,” the Immortal countered. “If I have to go through you to get to him, so be it!”

With that, the newcomer began the first volley. The sounds of metal clanging against metal rang loudly through the air as the pair parried and countered each other’s moves. They were testing each other, getting a feel for what level of skill they were up against.

Sadly, between the two, it was Angel who came up short.

It was a fact the vampire had known even before he challenged the stranger. Angel’s knowledge of swordplay was severely limited, especially when compared to that of Immortals, who lived and died by their swords. Immortals fought with heavy blades, utilizing the dozens -- sometimes hundreds -- of different techniques that they practiced constantly. It was a far cry from the brief ‘what a wealthy, Irish, second son should know about dueling’ lessons Angel had received as a lad.

He had been able to hold his own against Buffy all those months ago, but then again, her skills were on par with his own. Somehow Angel doubted she would fair any better in this fight than he was.

And he was losing badly.

Even if he had started the fight in full health, odds were that Angel’s vampiric speed, strength and endurance would have simply prolonged the fight. As it was, Angel was being pushed back, happily giving up ground as long as he drew the newcomer away from Adam’s still-unanimated body. After all, buying Pierson the time to recover was the vampire’s goal in this fight, even at the cost of Angel’s own existence.

A life for a life -- the ultimate atonement.

It was difficult to say which of the combatants was more surprised when an arrowhead suddenly emerged from the front of the newcomer’s coat. The Immortal instantly fumbled his weapon, scurrying backwards out of reach from Angel's sword. Hissing in pain, the man peered down to find a crossbow bolt deeply lodged in his right shoulder.

Stunned, Angel glanced over and saw the crossbow-wielding Oz standing at Giles’ side. While the teen may have been the one to fire the bolt, it was apparent that the command to do so came directly from the Watcher. Their gazes remained impassive as they faced down the furious Immortal.

“You have no right to interfere!” the stranger growled. His protest was immediately followed by a hiss of pain as he grasped the pointed end of the arrow, pulling the bolt the rest of the way through his shoulder.

“We have every right,” Giles snapped. “Or have you forgotten that he isn’t one of your kind? Your one-against-one rule doesn’t apply here.”

“Well,” the Immortal countered, his tone changing to one of smugness. “It would appear that it will soon be a moot point.”

And it would. For on the ground nearby, Adam Pierson was beginning to stir.




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