Fic: Unholy Alliance 1/?

["Ivy Gort" <ivygort23@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

Author: Ivy Gort
Rating: PG to NC-17
Spoilers: Season Four
Author Notes: This story is dedicated Mad Hamlet and his story Janus. With 
his permission and help I am blatantly ripping off his Primal Slayer. I?m 
not sure I?ll finish this story, after the disaster of Season Shi?oops, I 
mean Six, I?ve been turned off on Buffy in a big way. I think for the 
first time since I started writing what I do with a story will depend on its 
reception from this list. I do not plan to post it anywhere else.
A special thanks to Kris for BETAing the first version, this is the second 
so all the grammatical errors are mine alone. He tried to help, he really 
did!
Disclaimer: Although Joss does not deserve them: Buffy and characters belong 
to him. If he wants any of my ideas then I would gladly let him have them.
Summary: The Council and Walsh join forces to do something mean to our 
girls.




Prologue Unholy Alliance:

It is written that in the last year of second Millennium,
Betrayed by the ones who watch; she fought with God?s fury.
God?s Chosen and her soul, ruled the Gates of Hell;
For Ten and twenty years there was a peace like no other.


?Ladies and Gentlemen please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for landing.? 
Quentin Traver?s leaned back in his seat and let out the long breath he 
hadn?t known he was holding. ?The temperature in Los Angeles?s is 78 
degrees with a light westerly wind. Thank you for flying United."

The prophecy had been uncovered by one of the Rabbinical Scholars the 
Council had on staff in Jerusalem. The problem was, that Archaic Hebrew was 
hard enough to translate in and of itself, now add to it the fact that the 
scroll, on which it was written, was several thousand years old and what you 
had was a big, rotten mess. Traver?s thought as he obeyed the captain?s 
request and fastened his set belt.

No one on the Council could agree to its actual wording or time frame. If 
it was Jewish then the second millennium had come and gone; also every word 
had a gender base, and add to the fact that ancient Hebrew had no vowels, 
and you had a different translation for each of the scholars who read it. 
It gave him a headache just thinking about all the different versions the 
supposed experts, had come up with:


It is written that at the beginning of the second Millennium
Betrayed by the ones who watch; the right hand of God fell.
God?s Chosen and her consort ruled the gates of Hell;
Unleashing, for ten and twenty years, the rein of the fallen.

Oh, there were more translations some bleaker, some more positive, still 
regardless of the time frame; they all seemed to point to this slayer. The 
slayer they had no contact with or no control over. A slayer, that for the 
first time since written word was invented, had turned her back on the 
Council. Traver?s felt the plane make a slow banking turn; as he looked out 
the window and down at the city that had produced, in his opinion, the 
greatest slayer in the history of the council.

The Council?Oh, yes mustn't forget the Council.

What the Council seemed to have forgotten over the years, as it slowly 
turned into a bureaucracy, was that it was there to assist and guide the 
slayer, not to try to control her. They weren?t God?s Chosen-she was-only 
the Slayer truly had God?s touch.

This fools errand he was on was because of the Council had forgotten that 
they were the slayer?s servants, not the slayer?s theirs?.

Right now the council was divided on the question of Buffy Summers. It had 
been decided that since the Slayer line no longer ran through her to just 
leave her alone. Then they found prophecy and now the Initiative, ?if only 
Wesley hadn?t bungled Faith?s retrieval, last year.? He mumbled his 
frustration under his breath.

For the first time in over a 1000 years the council?s power was at an all 
time low; add to that the fact they were also divided and for the first time 
another organization was trying to usurp the power of the Slayer for its 
very own. The American Military wanted the slayer and in this day and 
age?what America wanted?it got. The old joke about the 900 pound ape 
flashed through his mind.

This Initiative couldn?t be allowed to succeed. He would have to prove its 
folly in trying to apply physical science to the metaphysical world. Demons 
could not be controlled; thus, he hope neither could the slayer. And if 
Walsh?s experiments failed and if the council could unite once again?. ?If 
wishes were horses than beggars could ride?.? Traver?s mumbled

As the plane jerked to a stop at the gate causing Quentin instinctively 
reached up to feel the small case in his upper pocket. To most people it 
would look like a pen; but it actually contained the stinger of a Cydon 
Demon. Just prick the skin and the person immediately fell unconscious. No 
warning, no sleepy feelings, one moment they were walking, and talking, the 
next they were out. Even a Slayer had no memory of being unconscious, no 
sense of time moving. He continued to sit quietly, waiting for the other 
passengers to gather their bags and depart the plane.

This was what Wesley should have used, if they only had gotten Faith back to 
England after that accident? Being touched by the divine when Slayers? 
killed they all went a little insane; they had the subconscious belief that 
they should be punished. Thus, the Watcher?s Council tribunal had been 
set-up over the years to be harsh, simply because once the Slayer was found 
innocent -she could go back to her work-free of guilt.

And no Slayer had ever been found guilty. Yes, Faith could have been, no 
should had been salvaged! It had not been his idea to send Price to 
Sunnydale as a replacement Watcher last year. His plan had been to 
reinstate Mr Giles after a month or two without pay; his firing had just 
been to a ploy to bring him and his slayer back into line. A ploy the 
fractions on the council took advantage of with disastrous results.

Still there were no answers.

He sighed as he stood reaching for his carry on bag.

The Council divided, and now this generation?s mad scientist, wanted to 
experiment on the only viable Slayer.

It was utter madness. There had to be a way he could stop this headlong 
rush into disaster.

*****


Longing
Matthew Arnold

Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.



Willow knew she was dreaming. It was the same dream she?d had since Oz 
left.

She is alone in a vale; the daylight filtering through the trees, the grass 
a soft carpet cushioning her body as she lay reading.

Then some noise catches her attention and she looks up, suddenly aware that 
darkness has fallen.

Panicked, she starts to gather her books; terror at being caught out at 
night coursing through veins, her heart pounding, even she could smell the 
fear laced sweat as it begins to form on her skin.

Then The Slayer appears. Naked and golden in the moonlight; her skin 
simmering with the magical light of the moon, eyes that shine brighter than 
the sun, she starts to slowly stalk Willow, slipping, sliding, from shadow 
to shadow around the vale.

Willow?s veins still hummed with heat, but instead of terror or panic, it?s 
with passion and desire, the sweat that forms on her arms now reek with her 
building arousal.

The Slayer, still stalking her as if Willow was her prey, pounces and gently 
takes Willow to the ground.

The cool grass caressing the now naked flesh of Willow?s back, as the The 
Slayer straddles her hips and easily capturing both her hands, pinning them 
above her head.

The Slayer?s bright eyes glare into Willow?s as if she?s trying to read her 
very soul.

For Willow trying to Drag a breath into her lungs is nearly impossible, 
because the ache that has formed deep within her chest, and a pleasant 
lethargy spreads down her spine.

Willow watches mesmerized as The Slayer tastes the air around her, nostrils 
flaring, mouth open wide, taking great gasps-then confusion contorts The 
Slayer?s face, from the ageless feral beauty it was a moment ago-to peace.

She utters the one simple fact racing through Willow?s addled brain: ?my 
mate.? Then Willow is swept in a kiss that begins to burn her to the core 
of her being.



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