FIC: MC 17 Mar ’00 Less Than Grateful (1/6)

Montgomery, Alabama

He glanced through his binoculars, peering at the looming, three-storey house ahead of them. The home was sat in an isolated area and surrounded by a white picket fence. To the casual observer it would doubtless look like a normal, if upper-class home. But to the experienced vampire hunter, the thick curtains closed in the middle of the day were a telltale sign. Add to that the complete absence of local crime which said something far fouler stalked the near-by streets, keeping them clean for ‘law-abiding’ vampires to rule.

"When do we hit?" queried his second-in-command.

He continued to stare at the house, not bothering to look at his minion. His new crew weren’t a patch on Montoya and the boys, but they’d have to do. "We’ll move tonight," he decided. "Hit them when they leave the house to go hunting, so they can’t hole up in the house."

"Makes sense," his subordinate agreed.

"You approve?" He chuckled, his temper as dour as usual. "Thank fuck for that. Make sure everyone’s weapons are ready."

* * *

"Bitch!"

Faith yawned as she poured some holy water into the demon’s eye. "Yeah, like I haven’t been called that before. Now the question is, where is Glint?" The African-American vampire who kinda put her in mind of Trick with his power suit, which ensured she had absolutely no good feelings for him, wriggled desperately in her one-handed throat grip, but she held firm. She held up and shook her holy water bottle, the contents sloshing around. "Plenty of water left."

"He’ll kill me," the vampire whined.

She exchanged a triumphant glance with Xander. Proof that their prisoner knew Glint. "And you think we won’t?" Xander queried. "The only question is fast or slow?"

"I don’t know where-," the demon screamed as she poured some holy water onto his forehead, causing smoke to waft out of his Afro, guy must have been turned in the seventies. "Wait! Wait!"

"I’m waiting," Faith smiled sweetly. "Not known for my patience though."

"You’re not kidding," a slightly queasy looking Tara muttered.

Faith winked at her sister, secretly sympathising with her queasiness. Torturing vamps wasn’t exactly on her list of favourite things to do, but if it saved some kid from being hurt by one of these bastards, well she’d pony up and do the deed. She turned back to the demon and tilted her head to one side. "Well?"

"Like I said I don’t know his base but," the demon’s eyes widened when she raised the bottle again, his babbling increasing in pace. "He’s collecting at Darton’s on Passageway Avenue."

Faith pursed her lips together thoughtfully. "X?" she asked, not taking her gaze from her prisoner.

There was a pause "Makes sense."

"Yeah it does," Faith nodded. Their target, Glint, was a 400 year old vampire who ran Alabama, Tennessee, and Georgia. He didn’t control it in the usual way though, running it more like a criminal organisation that preyed on the true underworld. He had five demon brothels, a black market supplying illicit items, human sacrifices etc., to demons, black mages, vampires, and the like, and an extortion racket taking in the twenty or so demon hangouts dotted throughout the three states. Finally she smiled at her prisoner. "Thanks?"

The demon’s eyes filled with confusion. "Name’s Crowe. With like an E."

"Thanks Crowe with an E." She thrust her stake home. " ‘Ppreciate it." Turning to X, she flicked her hair behind her head. "What’s the plan, we go to this Darton’s, take a table and wait for Glint to turn up?"

Xander shook his head. "You’ll cause a riot in there."

Faith smirked. "Wouldn’t be the first time I caused a riot in a bar."

"Because you’re a Slayer, Faith and this is a demon bar." Xander shot her a pained glance. "We’re better taking a position outside the bar and waiting for Glint and his boys turn up. Once they leave, we’ll trail them a distance and take them down."

"But it’s cold outside," Tara muttered.

Faith raised an eyebrow as she surveyed her sister. "Stop whining," she laughed as Tara stuck her tongue out. "And that patience crack, you’ll pay for that."

"Lady speaks the truth," Xander muttered.

"That’s Tara," Faith pointed out with a nod towards the Wicca. "Ain’t no lady."

"Hey!"

* * *

"He’s a blasphemous low-life," Sanderson raged to the priest as he glared at the back of their team-leader.

The young priest chuckled. "True. He’s a womaniser and a gambler," the father’s face sobered. "But you know what else?" Sanderson shook his head and shrugged. "He’s the best man to keep you and the others alive."

"He lost his last team," Sanderson pointed out.

The priest’s eyes darkened. "I was with him then and it wasn’t his fault."

"Who was it then?" Sanderson challenged.

He was dissatisfied when the father shook his head. "The church," distaste flickered across the younger man’s face, "have locked those records."

"You old women gonna talk or are you gonna get your shit together."

Sanderson started at his boss’ harsh voice. "Sorry sir," he muttered before hurrying to the pick-up.

"Don’t be sorry," his leader growled. "Be ready."

* * *

"How long have we been waiting?"

Xander raised an eyebrow at Faith’s moaning. As Tara had comically pointed out, one quality Faith definitely didn’t have was patience. "About five minutes longer than the last time you asked," Tara replied.

Xander snorted at the witch’s dry comment and Faith’s resulting volcanic glare. He liked the way the previously shy witch was coming out of her shell, revealing a gentle but strong woman with an unexpectedly wry sense of humour. His mood darkened, and he was relieved the way both his girls had recovered from their time as hostages of O’Malley.

But that shouldn’t have happened. He was meant to protect them. He snorted inwardly. It wasn’t much use carrying the soul of a warrior god inside him if he couldn’t protect the two people he loved most in the world. "You okay lover?"

He started at the Slayer’s uncharacteristically soft whisper. "Just thinking," he evaded.

Faith chuckled throatily. "X, how many times do I have to tell ya? Men do lifting and heavy work, women look pretty and think." He looked at his girl-friend, Faith shrugged and winked. "Hey, ain’t down to me. Mother Nature made us like that."

"Well you’ve got the pretty thing down," Xander mused. "But the thinking, I thought you just used your head for busting stuff with."

"Oh yeah," Faith’s eyes widened. "You wanna me show you how good I butt?"

"I already know how good your butt is," Xander replied straight-faced.

Faith looked at him for a second before descending into giggles. "Oh yeah, I’ve noticed the glazed looks!"

"And the drooling," Tara commented. "Don’t forget the -, they’re here," the Witch’s tone suddenly sobered.

Xander looked through the car window, his eyes narrowing as he inspected the quintet of suited vampires entering the club. "Damn it, he’s not here."

FIC: MC 17 Mar ’00 Less Than Grateful (2/?)

Montgomery, Alabama

"What?" Faith hissed at Xander. "If there’s one thing I know it’s hired muscle. And they were hired muscle."

"I’ll bow to your superior knowledge Tarantino," her boyfriend joked. "But he wasn’t there."

"How can you be sure?" she queried impatiently.

"You know those discs Stark sent us?" Faith shrugged at Tara’s question. She left computers and that stuff to those with an actual education. "They had a photograph of Glint taken by a Watcher in the late sixties. He wasn’t one of them."

"A Watcher uh?" Faith glanced over her shoulder to the witch sat in the back. "What happened to him?"

"Ah," Tara winced. "Him and his Slayer went up against Glint."

Faith stared at the blonde for a long second before speaking. "Rrrrrright." She might be uneducated, but she wasn’t dumb. Glint was still here which meant the Slayer blew it. Which served as just another reminder of how shitty her Calling could be. But, she glanced at her companions, without becoming a Slayer she’d never escaped her one-track going nowhere but hell life, never met her amazing boyfriend or her loyal friend. Take the shit with the sugar, no point pissing and moaning about it. "He taken down any other Slayers?" Her best friend shook her head. "Well that’s something." She looked towards her boyfriend. "How we gonna play this X?"

Xander stared at the sheet iron door of the club for a long second before speaking. "We wait," Faith groaned, more waiting? Fuck, that was all they ever seemed to do. "And then we grab those vampires and find out where Glint’s base is."

Faith grinned slowly as X finished talking. Finally, some action. About fucking time.

* * *

Rabid grinned as the smoky, poorly-lit club descended into silence at his and his companions’ entry, its assorted occupants of half-breeds, demons, vampires, and mages all glancing down at the sawdust covered floor as he and his escort passed by. He knew they weren’t scared of him, not really, it was the reputation of the vampire they represented that intimidated this normally rowdy bar. But at least as Glint’s second-in-command, and the only one of his childes to be older than two centuries, he got to savour and enjoy the trapping of his sire’s power.

Finally they reached the bar. "Darton," he growled.

The Qarz, a thin, grey-skinned demon with three eyes, no nose, and four arms dressed in a black Stetson, bandana, waistcoat, and leather chaps, turned a pasty white at his greeting. "Rabid," the Marteq nodded.

In an instance he had the demon by the throat. "Now Darton, what have I told?" he asked, the mildness of his tone not matched by the intensity in his eyes. "It’s Sir."

"S…sorry sir," the demon gurgled, his forked tongue lolling out of his mouth. "I forgot."

"Don’t do it again," he released his grip. "It would be a shame for this wonderful establishment," he smiled at his companions’ laughs. "To have to find a new owner." He glanced meaningfully towards the till. "Our tribute?"

"Yes sir," the bar-owner hurried over to the till, opened it, and rushed back to them, a wad of notes in one of its hands. "There you are sir."

Rabid nodded his thanks as he took the money. He counted the notes before looking up at the Qarz. "Thanks Darton, see you in two weeks’ time."

Darton’s smile had a forced quality about it. "Look forward to it sir."

"Somehow I doubt it," Rabid grinned before turning to his boys. "Let’s go."

* * *

"Are we going sir?"

He nodded as he saw the half-a dozen vampires his informers told him lived in the house leave the building and congregate on the garden. "Yeah," he replied. "Looks like it’s time." He glanced over his shoulder at his team. "Sanderson take the other pick-up and drive it through the gates, Ed, Don, and Jethro, you’re with him. Parde, Luca, you’re with me. Pepe, Miguel, Jose, you three come in from the rear. Everyone got that?" The men nodded in unison. "Good, then move into position, and wait for my signal."

* * *

Faith grinned as the four vampires left the hotel. "Hoo-fucking-ray!" she turned to her boyfriend. "How we gonna run this X?"

* * *

"Did you see the look on that-," Rabid’s voice trailed off when two girls crossed the road ahead of his group and started towards them. One of the two, a devastating brunette who’s all leather outfit stuck to her voluptuous body like a second skin was the better looking of the two, but her blonde companion had a soft, gentle air about her that sung to Rabid’s demon, made him crave her degradation and corruption. A grin on his face, he turned to his companions. "You three can take the brunette, the blonde’s mine," he declared, seeing the eagerness he felt reflected in their leering faces.

In seconds they were by the two girls. "Hey guys," he was surprised when the husky-voiced brunette didn’t seem uncomfortable when surrounded by four strange men on a dark night. In fact she seemed totally at ease. "How ya doing?"

"Better than you," he morphed out.

He was surprised when rather than freak out, the raven-haired beauty laughed. "That supposed to scare us?" the buxom girl flicked her long hair behind her. "Shit, the Sisterhood of Jhe were way scarier than that."

The Sisterhood of Jhe? He shot his companions a confused look. Who were these girls?

His eyes widened when he saw one of his companions explode into dust revealing a tall, good-looking kid behind him. "Damn Faith," the boy shook his head. "Chatting up other guys?"

The brunette smiled crookedly. "Sorry gotta keep my hand in."

"I’ll forgive you if you help me kill these demons."

The girl identified as Faith nodded. "Deal."

Rabid shook himself out of his shock. "Get them!" he roared even as he leapt at the brunette.

"Kill the rest!" the girl shouted as she leapt to meet him. "We’ll question this a’hole!"

Rabid’s eyes widened at the insult implied by the raven-haired beauty’s words. "You’ll need a medium."

"I’ve always been," he gasped when the raven-haired beauty ducked under his left hook and drove a right hook into his chest, knocking him back a step, "not medium, exceptional." Growling in confusion and anger, he lunged at the teen. Laughing contemptuously, she sidestepped his attack, grabbed his wrist and flung him into a car, his head smashing through the window, setting off the car’s alarm.

Howling in pain and his face seeping in blood, he pulled his head out of the now loudly-beeping car and spun to face the girl. Only to catch a combination knee to the groin and an uppercut to the jaw.

The force of the amazingly powerful blow lifted him over the car and into the road. Grunting as the back of his head smashed into the hard tarmac, he struggled groggily to his feet. "Gotta get away," he muttered as he looked up.

His eyes widened in horror as he saw the astonishingly-athletic teen hurdle the car. A half-second later her feet crashed into his chest, knocking him back to the ground. The girl landed next to him on her knees.

He smashed a punch in her mouth, splattering blood against the car behind her and knocking her on her pretty ass. Taking his chance, Rabid leap to his feet, anxious to escape.

"Where ya going?" he roared in fury as the supine girl kicked his legs from underneath him, knocking him back. "We’ve only just met." In an instance the girl was straddling him, trapping him with her incredibly strong thighs.

"Who are you?" he screamed in terror.

"Me?" the teen smiled cockily. "I’m Faith, the Slayer."

The Slayer. Rabid could have sworn his undead heart fluttered at the girl’s words. "But you’re a legend!"

"Believe it or not," Faith winked. "Not the first guy to say that."

His despair grew when the raven-haired beauty’s companions appeared beside her, meaning his cohorts had perished. "Having fun?" commented the blonde.

"Just getting to know him, Tar. First date stuff." He swallowed when the Slayer pulled out a stake. "Names, past dating history," the brunette’s pool-like eyes hardened. "Where does your boss hang?"

"H…he’s at his mansion on Lovehill Crescent, he’s got information a hunter’s gonna hit the place so he’s hiding up there with twenty-five vamps, four times the number that usually hangs out there."

"Thanks," Faith raised her stake.

Rabid’s eyes widened. "Wait! You said if I talked you wouldn’t kill me!"

A confused look crossed over the sultry Slayer’s face. "I never said that." Rabid opened his mouth in protest but his words were cut off by the stake smashing into his chest.

FIC: MC 17 Mar ’00 Less Than Grateful (3/?)

"Sanderson, in place?"

"In place," his second in command hissed through his ear-piece.

He nodded in satisfaction. "Pepe?"

"I ready boss," came the whispered reply.

"Good," he glanced at his apprehensive-looking companions. By contrast, he could hardly wait, his own blood pounding with excitement. "You ready?" The Padre and the hunter nodded simultaneously. "On three, one, two. THREE!" Even as he roared the number he slammed down on the accelerator, sending the battered pick-up powering through the fence.

* * *

"Oh crap," Faith rose, batting the dust off her blouse before she turned to her stony-eyed boyfriend. "We gonna do the cavalry thing?"

"Yeah," Xander nodded. "But let’s move, we don’t how much time we’ve got."

Faith grimaced. Sometimes X had a real love of the obvious.

* * *

The moment they cleared the fence, he slammed onto the brakes, but they still were doing over 40 kph when they hit two of the vampires, lifting them off their feet and flinging them into the house, smashing into the wall with a wet, bone-snapping smack. Throwing the door open, he leapt to the ground, hitting it on his knees and rolling up, ignoring the jarring pain that shot through his aging legs. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sanderson propel his vehicle into the compound, the grille gates no match for a miracle of good USA. engineering.

Turning his attention back to the vampires, he aimed his sawn-off at the nearest charging demon and pulled the trigger. Blood jetted out of the vampire’s chest as it fell screaming onto its back. Running up, he quickly crouched over the demon and slammed his stake home. Looking up, he saw Sanderson and his crew exiting his truck and the Padre and Luca were by his side. But where the fuck was Pepe and his boys?

* * *

"Twenty-five vampires," Tara commented. "That’s a lot for just the three of us isn’t it?"

"Yep," Xander agreed tersely. "Better hope that whoever we’re rescuing manages to thin the herd for us."

"Oh that’s optimistic," Faith commented as Xander took the car screeching around a tight corner. Of course on the plus side, Xander might kill them all before they got there. Now there was a thought. "X, you’re driving like me."

"W..well," Tara’s trademark stammer occasionally returned under stress. "Not quite that bad."

Looking over her shoulder, Faith shot her pale-faced sister a glare. "Shut up." Jeez, what had happened to the mousy girl they’d rescued a few months ago? Now smart-mouthing her? Wasn’t right.

* * *

Glint grinned as he watched the three swarthy Latinos creep through the back gate. His plan had worked, the fools thought all the demons were in the front and were splitting their forces in the hope hitting them with a surprise attack from behind. "Trespassers," he muttered. "How rude, I’ll have to remonstrate." Turning to his fellow vampires waiting to reinforce their companions battling out front. "Stay here boys," he ordered. "I’ll just be a minute."

* * *

"Hello gentlemen. Lost your way?"

Miguel stopped when the back door to the house flew open and a tall, gaunt-featured man in his mid-forties with greying hair stepped out onto the veranda, his green eyes burning intensely and his custom-made suit immaculate. In a second, Miguel’s gun was coming up and aiming at the demon, preparing to sell the soulless bastard to a much-deserved death.

The gun was ripped from him when the vampire crossed the space separating them in a blur. The demon threw him into Pepe, knocking them both to the lush lawn. The gardener he’d once been caused him to dazedly wonder who landscaped the beautiful grounds.

His attention was torn back to current events by the visceral sight of the demon snatching hold of Jose and yanking his head off his shoulders, blood spurting out of his friend’s neck even as his corpse went into wild convulsions before inevitably slumping to the ground. Miguel’s blood froze when the well-dressed man turned his laser-gun stare on them as they struggled to their feet. Then, the bastard who’d just murdered their friend smiled. Smiled. "Oh dear, blood’s hard to get out of the grass."

The words sparked a fire deep in Miguel’s heart. The icy terror that had been twisting his insides melted away as he rose and drew his stake, screaming obscenities in Mexican. He joined Pepe in charging the waiting demon, the slighter man beating him to their shared target.

His dread reappeared at the sight of the demon punching a hole through his companion’s chest, the horrifying spectacle causing his momentum to momentarily stop. Reminding himself he’d killed almost twenty vampires in the three years since his family was murdered by one, he gathered his courage and ran forward, his stake leading the charge to the demon’s heart.

He gasped with the demon’s hand snapped up to grab his stake-arm at the wrist and twisting, snapping his wrist, forcing him to drop his last weapon. The demon smiled before throwing him to the lawn, the impact driving the air from his body. He struggled to his knees only to be grabbed around his neck and effortlessly lifted into the air. "Um, I fancied a Mexican." His mouth opened in a wordless scream when the demon lunged towards him, his fangs sinking into his throat. In seconds Miguel’s vision started to blur before finally, irreversibly, turning black.

* * *

"Uh," Glint threw the corpse aside. "Not really to my taste. Too tangy." He burped. "Went down hard." He smiled when he heard the sounds of battle still continuing out front. Leaping back onto the wooden veranda, he pushed the door open and smiled at his eagerly waiting minions. "Shall we, ladies, gentlemen?"

* * *

"They’re dead."

"And yet somehow I’m not getting wood." He replied to Padre’s elated comment, not sharing his joy at the death of the last of the six vampires. Yeah, they were dead, but were the fuck where the Mexicans? His gut was telling him something had gone wrong.

And his gut was never wrong.

"Oh dear," his head snapped up to the front veranda, mouth drying at the sight of the tall vampire, noting with a sinking heart the deference the surrounding two dozen demons were showing him. He had to be powerful, and in these numbers, he knew his crew was in a world of hurt. "You killed my guests. How rude. I do dislike gatecrashers. Normally I was call those eagle-eyed custodians of law and order but this time…." Suddenly the speaking vampire morphed into his demonic face. "Just kill them."

* * *

"Uh Xander," Faith spoke up as their vehicle flew past a road opening.

"Faith," he snapped, his eyes fixed on the road. "I’m trying to concentrate on the road."

"We’ll get there a lot faster if you just fuckin’ listen!" his girlfriend snapped. "I was trying to tell you missed the turning to Lovehill Crescent!"

"Oh," Xander winced as chagrin shot through him. "Sorry." Yanking powerfully on the wheel, he spun the car around in u-turn narrowly avoiding being sideswiped by an angrily blaring truck.
"X," Faith muttered from beside him. "We actually have to get there in one piece to help."

"I second that."

Xander ignored Tara’s mutter to reply to his girl-friend. "Faith."

"Yeah hon?"

"Shut up."

FIC: MC 17 Mar ’00 Less Than Grateful (4/?)

Glint beamed at the expression on the leader’s craggy face. The others, even the priest were frightened, but him, he was the sort who’d stay defiant to the end. Until death. He liked that, it meant something when you killed someone like him. "Leave the leader, he’s mine!" he roared.

* * *

"Oh fuck," he cursed as he heard the demon’s words. Glancing around, he grabbed the priest by his shoulder and bundled the man towards the pickup. "Everyone retreat!" He winced as one of his men was decapitated. He couldn’t lose another team, not again.

His stomach hollowed as he leapt inside the pickup and saw Sanderson join the others dead on the ground. "Shit!" Turning his attention to the priest, he growled an order. "Drive Padre!"

The pickup shook when a stocky African-American vampire landed feet-first on the bonnet. He instantly responded by aiming and firing his shotgun at the demon. The van reverberated with the shotgun’s retort, momentarily deafening him. The shotgun’s ammo blew out the window en-route to hitting the demon in the stomach, propelling him off the bonnet. "Padre!" he roared. Seeing another demon attempting to climb in through his door, he shot an elbow through the pickup window, smashing it into the surprised demon’s face, knocking it to the ground. "Do you need a fucking invita-."

The sound of the pickup’s engine roaring into life interrupted him as the car reversed off the grounds. Spinning around, the car clipped a demon, knocking it under its wheels before speeding off.

* * *

Glint looked around, shaking his head at their quarry’s escape. "If you want a job doing properly," he muttered before shouting. "After them!"

* * *

Xander braked hard when a battered pickup with its front and passenger side windows blown out and driven by a wild-eyed priest of all people flew out of Lovehill Crescent just in front of him. Despite braking though, he still slammed into the car’s near rear wheel, spinning the other car across the road and almost flipping it over before it carried on weaving through the on-rushing traffic. His body jarred from the bruising crash, Xander pulled the car into the kerb just past the road ending.

"You think that was -," Faith’s voice trailed off as a trio of tinted-windowed sedans burst out of the road and sped off after the pick-up.

"I think it was," Xander replied as he did another u-turn and followed the speeding procession.

Tara squealed. "Can I say you’ve watched Bullit way too many times?"

* * *

"Shit!" he roared as they speeded out of the road, his body jarred from their side swipe by the tinted-window 4*4 racing towards them. The pickup screeched wildly into the road opposite, causing on-rushing traffic to blare their horns and swerve violently to avoid them. He glanced at his pale-faced driver. "You okay Padre?"

"I’ll have to be," the man of God replied tersely before glancing at him. "Are they still following?"

He glanced over his shoulder down the lamp lit road, wincing slightly at the following cars, eyes widening when he saw the 4*4 they’d nearly hit joining the chase. What the fuck was the driver doing? "They’re still coming," he confirmed.

The priest paled still further. "Our father who art in-."

He rolled his eyes at the priest’s words. He might work for the church, but it was definitely a relationship based on mutual co-operation rather than true belief. "Padre," he growled. "Shut the fuck up and drive."

"Amen to that," the priest muttered as he spun into an industrial district.

* * *

"Xander," Faith gritted her teeth as they slid narrowly between two on-coming sports cars, their speed somewhere around 120 kph. "You get this hulk of metal ain’t KITT?"

"I always preferred the General Lee," Xander replied cheerfully, not shifting his eyes from the road.

"Not ‘xactly reassuring me X," Faith held onto the dashboard as the car spun around a bend, slightly clipping the kerb.

"Just as long as neither of you expect to be the fall guy?" Tara commented from the back.

Faith exchanged a bemused look with Xander before they spoke in unison. "Tara, shut up."

* * *

Glint watched in amusement as his demonically-enhanced drivers sped through the traffic, slowly but surely closing on their prey. "Sir, we have pursuers," his driver commented.

"Oh really?" he glanced out of the rear window, saw the 4*4 following, and shrugged. "Probably just rubberneckers," he concluded. "They get too close, we’ll kill them."

"Yes sir."

Glint smiled. Time to add some spice to the game. "Gentlemen. I think it’s time we upped the ante."

* * *

"FUCK!"

He instinctively ducked at the sound of the rear window exploding under a gun’s assault. Ignoring the cold draught whipping in, he raised his gun only to stop. Given the darkness, speed of both their own vehicle and the chasing cars, hitting their opponents was almost impossible. But of course vampires didn’t have his physical limitations. In other words, he scowled, they were fucked.

"What are we going to do!" screamed his driver. Any reply he could have made was lost by the sound of a tyre exploding. "Hold on!" the padre screamed, spinning haphazardly around a corner.

And hit the kerb on the turn, propelling the vehicle into the cold night air. The car rolled two full circuits in mid-air before crashing down with concussing force, the impact denting the car roof.

* * *

Faith winced as the car flew in mid-air before crashing to the hard tarmac. "That has got to hurt."

"Now who’s stating the obvious?" teased Tara.

Faith took a long-suffering breath as Xander yanked the car across two lanes, ignoring the screeching of brakes and blaring of horns behind their speeding car to pull into the industrial estate. "Sisters suck," she muttered.

* * *

"Got them!" exulted one of his minions.

Glint nodded, hiding his own excitement behind his customary unreadable expression. "Well done," he praised before adding a warning. "Let’s not lose them now, shall we?"

The celebrating demon gulped as he pulled his head back into the car. "Yes sir."

* * *

"Shit, shit, shit!" He cursed as he shook his head clear, blood dripping down from a cut in his forehead, stinging and blurring the vision in his left eye. At least he hoped it was the blood that was causing the blinding.

He looked across at the padre and grimaced. The priest looked how he felt, that is to say all fucked up. Wincing with the effort, he attempted to open his door only to find it had buckled under the impact, twisted beyond opening. "Fuck!" Ignoring the pain, and very conscious of the heavy stench of oil dripping around them, he spun in his seat and kicked out the jagged edges of glass left in the window. Grabbing hold of the priest’s shoulder, he dragged the holy man out of the window after him.

Once he’d pulled himself and his dazed companion to their feet and away from the car, he looked around. His heart dropped when he realised there were no homes around, only factories or shop that couldn’t be considered as domestic residences and therefore were immune from the rule of invitation. "I’ve come through tougher battles," he reassured himself.

He just couldn’t think of any right about now.

Quelling the self-serving part of his psyche that was telling him to dump the barely-conscious priest and run, he began dragging his friend towards the nearest building, a brownstoned factory with boards across the windows. It looked like he was going to have to make a last stand.

FIC: MC 17 Mar ’00 Less Than Grateful (5/?)

Glint beamed as his car screeched to a halt beside their quarry’s turned over vehicle, the cars of his underlings following suit. Leaping out of his car, he turned to his followers. "Max, Chow, Carver, Dart," he named his four favourite minions before turning to the others. "Stay by the car in case he tries to double back." He turned back to his henchmen. "Follow me." He morphed out. "Remember, I take him, you four herd him to me."

* * *

"Hell," he used the back of his arm to wipe away sweat dripping from his forehead into his eyes even as he kicked open a door, and dragged his barely conscious friend into the dark office beyond.. "This is so fucked up." After draping his companion on the desk, he turned his attention to his weaponry. He grimaced as he counted his remaining ammo, six shells for his shotgun and three rounds for his Smith & Wesson. "I’ll save the last two for us," he made a muttered promise to his friend. No damn demon was going to turn them.

* * *

Xander’s eyes widened as he entered the road where the car had crashed, noting the cheering vampires around it. "A dozen, just great." Thinking quickly, he slammed on the brakes, reached into the Always Pocket and pulled out a grenade, the 4*4’s powerful engine still ticking over. "There you go," he dropped the explosive device in his girl-friend’s lap.

Faith’s eyes grew saucer-sized as she stared at the grenade. "What the fuck do you want me to do with that?"

Xander pointed the 400 metres down the road and to the vampires who were slowly turning towards them but were perhaps unwilling to leave their assigned position to investigate the intruders. "Make like Babe Ruth," he said.

Faith slowly smirked. "I can do that." Flipping her raven locks back, Faith wound her window down and gracefully slid her upper body out of the window, hoisted her arm back and flung the grenade into the air. "Hit it!"

Even as he obeyed his girl-friend’s excited shout and floored the accelerator, shooting the car forward, he watched the grenade’s flight. The explosives device flew through the night air in a fluid arc, flying over and landing amidst the vampires, just by the car. A half-second later, the area was rocked by a ringing explosion as the grenade erupted, taking the oil-leaking car with it, and engulfing the vampires in an inferno, turning them into demonic Catherine Wheels.

"Damn," Faith muttered, her face pale as they screeched to a halt just past the inferno. "Intense."

"What happens next?" Tara queried. "Are the hunters dead?"

Noticing something, Xander slowly shook his head. "No," he pointed towards a boarded-up factory. "See that forced open door, my guess is they ran in there."

"K, Glint’s mine," Faith snapped. "The others you two deal with, k?"

"Sounds like a plan," Xander agreed.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Faith flung her door open and jumped out. "Come on!"

"Yes dear," Xander muttered as he climbed out.

"You’re so under the thumb," Tara accused. Xander counted to ten.

* * *

Glint smiled as he approached the office, the stench of blood leading him to his prey. His mouth dropped open when the building was shook by an explosion. It would appear things had gotten complicated. Eyes hardening, he looked at his minions. "Dart, Chow, check the door. Carver, Max, with me."

* * *

His eyes widened at the explosion. Lunging backwards, he grabbed the priest’s bleeding body to stop it rolling off the desk. "Sounds like the cavalry has come," he muttered. Taking a breath, he checked his shotgun. His options had changed; he wasn’t the sort of man who let others fight his battles for him.

Ignoring the pain coursing through his battered body, he limped towards the door.

* * *

Faith slowed as she approached the factory door, sensing demons behind it, she signalled to her boy-friend, using the military hand signals he’d taught her. Xander nodded and grinned. In seconds her sis and her honey were flanking her. Taking a breath, she took the two loaded pistol crossbows that X had passed her, crossed her arms, and took a leaping kick at the door.

She hit the thick wooden door feet-first. The pain jarred though her bent legs at the impact but also tore the door off it hinges, flinging into the darkened factory. Hitting its dusty floor, she rolled up into a knelt position and fired both her crossbows at the stunned demons flanking her, turning them to dust.

A grin on her face, Faith leapt to her feet. "Damn," she drawled, "I know how to make an entrance." Her eyes narrowed when a tall, thin demon in his mid-forties spun around to face her. Man, this demon had power, more than any vamp she’d faced bar Kaktosis. Quelling her fear, she forced a cocksure smirk. "Hey stud, you Glint?"

The vampire gestured to his two companions, halting their advance, before speaking. "Indeed I am my dear, and you are?"

Faith’s smirk widened. "I’m Faith, and I’m the Slayer."

* * *

Glint raised an eyebrow at the beautiful brunette’s bold declaration. "A Slayer? I’ve killed one before."

"Heard that," came the surprisingly nonchalant reply. "She wasn’t me."

"I can see that," Glint resisted temptation to lick his lips. Oh, he remembered the first Slayer he’d taken, hers was the sweetest blood he’d ever tasted. He could hardly wait. "Your Watcher?"

"Don’t need one," the raven-haired temptress shrugged. "Got my boy and my sis."

"I can see that." Glint repeated before pausing. "Shall we?" In answer, the Slayer charged him, leading with a side thrust kick aimed at his jaw. Laughing slightly, he leaned away from the kick and made to grab for the foot.

Only for the foot to snap back, her heel smashing into his throat, knocking him back a step. Before he had time to react the Slayer was in the air, executing a flawless 360 roundhouse kick that smashed into his forehead, knocking him flat on his back, sending dust billowing.

The female supernatural warrior landed beside him in a crouch, her stake snaking down at his heart. Her triumphant sneer changed to one of shock when he grabbed her stake arm just inches from his heart, and then to pain when he grabbed her chest with his free hand, squeezed and twisted viciously. "Ah fuck!" she screamed.

His fist slammed into the Slayer forehead, knocking her on her side. Leaping to her feet, he stepped towards the fallen beauty only to catch a battering heel to the knee. Grunting in pain, he stumbled backwards.

The Slayer made it to her feet just as he launched his counter-attack. The beautiful teen swayed backwards at the waist from his overhand right. The brunette’s hand snapped up, grabbed his wrist, and yanked. His eyes widened as he was flung into the air, air that whistled around his body as he flew into the far wall.

Forcing aside the pain, he struggled to his feet and spun to meet the girl. Blocking her stake thrust on his arm, the teen let out a pained yelp when he punched her in the mouth, drawing that treasured blood. Eyes hardening, the girl pulled her fist back, he pulled his arms up only to catch a kneecap-cracking kick. Screaming in pain, he fell to his knees. "Don’t like being hit in my mouth, means I can’t kiss my guy for a day." The Slayer said as she smashed her stake home.

* * *

Carver grinned as he approached the shaking blonde, so young, so frightened, just how he liked them. Snatching out a hand, he grabbed the girl and pulled her towards him. Her eyes widened when she slammed a concealed stake into his chest and laughed. "Works every time."

* * *

Max growled as he leapt at the calmly waiting kid. The boy might be young, but his seven decades of demon hood had taught him to recognise a tough adversary when he met one. The boy slid smoothly inside his lunging arm, grabbed it at the wrist and his biceps, bent forward at the waist, and flung him to the ground.

As he hit the ground he grabbed the kid’s ankle and pulled. The youth let out a surprised squawk as he fell only to hit the ground on his shoulder and roll up with a wince.

Even as the kid reached his feet, Max charged him, hitting him shoulder-first in the stomach and propelling him into the wall. A grin on his face, he leapt forward. Catching a stunning thrust kick to the chest, he fell sideways, falling into a near-by table, knocking over an opened bottle of chemical mixture. Seizing a chance, Max grabbed the bottle and flung its contents into his opponent’s eyes. "My eyes!" the youth screamed.

Grinning to himself, he bared his fangs. "Easy meat."

"I don’t think so," announced a gruff voice. It was his turn to scream when buckshot tore through his back followed quickly by a stake to the heart.

* * *

"X, you okay honey?"

"I’m fin-, five by five." Smiling slightly at Faith’s concern and the comfort he got from her hands on his shoulders, Xander blinked his tearing eyes clear to see the blurred sight of a craggy, hard-eyed man facing him. "Thanks for your help?"

"Name’s Crow, kid." The man announced before hesitating. "You Alexander Harris?"

"Might be," he hedged. "Who wants to know?"

"Kid, we gotta talk."

FIC: MC 17 Mar ’00 Less Than Grateful (6/6)

"Oh yeah," Xander blinked again, his eyes still refused to clear fully. "What about?"

"Wait here, I got a -."

"You ain’t going anywhere alone," Faith declared. "Tar, you look after Xan, I’ll go with old dude."

"Old dude?" Crow growled. "I’ve been hunting vampires since before you were born girlie."

"Looking at you, I’m surprised you lasted one night."

Xander waited as the bickering two walked off. "Tara, could you?" he requested, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

The witch took his face in her soft hands, guiding his head towards her. "No major damage," she said quietly. "I can do this." The blonde closed her eyes, then muttered a word.

Instantly everything flicked fully back into focus. "Thanks!" he beamed at his friend. "I feel great!"

Tara blushed at his effusive praise. The witch opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by Faith’s shout. "Yo! Tar, need your healing hands, girl!"

In an instant, they were both in the cramped office. On its desk lay a battered man wearing the dog collar of a priest, looking like he’d dislocated his left shoulder, broke his right wrist, and smacked his head pretty hard to judge from the dried blood on his head. Tara took a look and shook her head. "Too much for me. Maybe-," he shook his head, interrupting Tara’s suggestion, guessing that the honey-blonde was about to suggest using Leo. He didn’t mind calling on the angel for fatal or irreversible injuries but was loathe to risk the celestial being’s cover for what appeared to be a few nasty-looking, but ultimately minor wounds.

"Maybe what?" growled Crow, his voice harsh.

Xander registered the blood leaking from the other man’s forehead and his badly swollen ankle. He hadn’t noticed those injuries before with his impaired vision. "Maybe we should go outside, see if we can get a signal for this?" Reaching inside his pocket, he summonsed the Always Pocket to pull out his mobile and gestured with it to the man.

After a second the middle-aged man nodded. "Sure." The demon-hunter looked towards Tara, "look after him, he’s a good guy."

Once they were outside the factory, the hunter’s car still burning brightly. "You’ll be calling your local Vatican contact I assume?"

Crow’s eyes narrowed. "What makes you think that?" the hunter growled suspiciously.

"The priest for one."

"Plenty of groups work with the local priest," the man shot back.

"Would a group with a local priest know who I am?" Xander asked evenly even as he passed the phone over to the self-proclaimed veteran demon hunter.

Crow’s mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "Smart one ain’t ya?"

"I try, I try."

* * *

Crow watched wearily as Harris talked to his girls. They were quite a group and no mistake. That Slayer was even more of a fox than her photo suggested. The witch, she had power and no mistake, he could smell it. Harris though, Crow guessed that if he hadn’t met the boy under such hectic circumstances, he might have written him off as a goofy kid. "So much for perception," he muttered with a chuckle.

"I trust you are feeling better Mr. Crow?"

Crow glanced away from the kids to the speaker, a tall, robed balding priest in his late-fifties and kindly eyes. "Is Guiteau alright Monsignor?" he queried.

He was surprised at the wave of relief that enveloped him at the priest’s nod, it appeared Guiteau had grown on him, sorta like a fungus. "He will be," replied the priest who’d flown in with a team from the Vatican at his phone call eighteen hours ago. The holy man turned towards the three teens. "He is surprisingly young given his reputed powers."

"Yeah, boy’s got spine though," Crow gruffly replied.

"Have you spoken to him about our offer?"

Crow shook his head, he’d been too busy recovering from his beating and losing his team, and watching the Slayer’s ass, to get down to business. "Was about to," he lied with the ease of an used-car salesman.

The priest’s eyes sparkled in way that belied his years. "Then don’t let me stop you."

* * *

"Hey kid, can we talk?"

Xander looked over his shoulder and smiled at Crow. "Sure, Jack." He glanced back at Faith and Tara. "Just be a minute." He allowed the Vatican’s hired gun to lead him over to the far corner of the spacious hotel room that the Church had paid for. "What is it Jack?"

"The priests would like to discuss a working partnership with you, a pooling of resources. And," Crow’s eyes flickered towards his girl-friend. "I figure the Council are looking for their lost Slayer, we could help ensure they don’t get their hands on her."

Xander bristled, his blood beginning to bubble. "You‘re threatening Faith?" his tone lowering to a taut whisper. "We rescue your ungrateful ass and you think you can threaten us? How about I beat -."

"Chill kid," the demon-hunter held up his hands in a placating gesture which didn’t come close to calming him. "I was just saying the Council would think twice about getting into a pissing contest with the Vatican."

"Uh, uh," Xander stared suspiciously at the man before shrugging. He guessed that Crow’s words made an unpalatable sense. "I’ll talk to the girls about it."

* * *

"No fucking way!" Faith exploded.

Xander blinked, surprised by the intensity of the buxom Bostonian’s reaction. "Why not hon?"

"Shit," Faith’s eyes flashed. "Even I watch the news occasionally. All the fucking cover-ups in the church, protecting bastard pedo priests."

"Oh right," Xander blinked at his girl-friend. Given her past he could easily understand her reaction. "They could offer us protection against the Council."

Faith’s eyes narrowed. "We’ll listen to their offer, but the final word’s mine, got it?"

Xander grinned, elated that Faith would at least give the priests a chance. "Isn’t it always?" he joked.

His remark was rewarded with a bruising punch to the arm. "Smart ass," Faith growled.

"You knew that when you started dating him," Tara commented.

* * *

Xander smiled nervously as he walked into the boarding room hired by the church for their meeting, flanked by his girls to see the three priests and Crow waiting for him. Two of the priests were kindly looking enough, but the third, a severe-featured man with a zealot’s eyes, and a forked greying beard was a serious freak-out. "Hi guys," he half-waved to the other team before sitting down. "Shall we start?"

* * *

"So you’re saying that in exchange for us working with a priest and becoming Vatican endorsed, you’ll give us access to your legal, medical, and intelligence resources worldwide?" Harris glanced down at the paper detailing the Vatican’s terms. "And make sure the Council doesn’t get bounty hunterish on Faith’s ass?"

"The Council would think twice about confronting us," replied the Monsignor. "And having you work for us would be a significant feather on our cap."

Padre Richeur felt his temper snap. It was a disgrace, the Church negotiating with a heathen who not only had destroyed a holy artefact, but consorted with a painted whore with a demon’s spirit inside her, he glanced at the Slayer, and even worse, a hell-damned witch. They had the power, they should take the boy’s resources and use them for the betterment of the Catholic Church. Rising, he drew the gun he had hidden under his robes. "Demonspawn!" he screamed, aiming his gun at the frightened witch.

"Tell me Padre," he froze at the sound of a revolver cocking in his ear. "Are you ready to meet your God?"

"Crow!" he was relieved to hear the Monsignor’s high-pitched screech. "Put down your weapon."

His bladder loosened at Crow’s cocksure smirk. "Let me see, no." The man paused. "This asshole is pointing a gun at the kids who saved my ass. While he, from all I’ve heard, is an intolerant asshole this pile of mud would be way better without." The demon hunter turned his laser gun gaze back to him. "So, the question remains. Do you drop the gun, or do I drop you?" Hand shaking, he placed the gun on the desk. "Smart man." The butt of Crow’s gun smashed into his forehead, and everything went black.

* * *

Xander let out a breath at the priest’s collapse. After shooting Crow a grateful glance, he grabbed Faith’s shoulder as she started forward, her eyes blazing. "We don’t need another enemy hon," he muttered in his raging girl-friend’s ear before turning towards the two remaining priests. "This meeting is over gentlemen. I think you know our answer," he cast the unconscious priest a significant glance.

"I assure you-."

"You can assure me all you want," Xander interrupted, his tone flat. "But the hostility displayed by him shows that your Church is as intolerant as ever. We’re leaving. And gentlemen," his tone hardened. "You don’t want me as an enemy."

* * *

Vatican City, 3 days later

Padre Richeur held his head high as he entered Monsignor Pedro Alvez’s office. He couldn’t wait to hear what punishment would be meted out to Crow for his actions at the meeting with Harris. "Padre," he stiffened at his superior’s hard tone, "please, sit." Once he’d obeyed, the man began speaking. "It has been decided that you will be excommunicated because of your actions -."

Richeur’s mouth dropped open, they were excommunicating him? This was outrageous. "The Holy Father-."

Alvez interrupted him with a harsh laugh. "Let me this very clear," the fat priest’s eyes hardened. "Your actions have cost us a very powerful ally and caused embarrassment to the Church. It was a very close vote as to whether you were executed or just excommunicated. You have 24 hours to leave this city and never come back."

Richeur’s face contorted in rage as he threw back his chair and rose. Spittle flew out of his mouth as he screamed curses in Latin and stormed out of the room. Oh, Harris and his bitches would pay, he promised. She’d wish it was the Inquisition when he got the hands on Harris’ tame witch.

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