FF: Graile ch. 6 - Secrets in Sunnydale

[Jack Xavier Warriner <connor_macbeth@xxxxxxxxx>]

Damn... How long has this been in the works? The
Bear is my new favorite author, though I normally
steer clear of the more graphic fics, he's good.
Hunter Ash, More of your Saga. The Wereville,
Lupercalia is intriguing. Don't hate me for the
mention.

Raise Curtains!

* * *
Graile 
Chapter Six ? Secrets in Sunnydale
By: MacBeth 
Disclaimers: Jack, Vincent, Aki, Deanna, and Graile
are mine. Everything else belongs to those who worked
so hard to bring their characters from the Ether. 
Archives: Paradox761, Pink Rabbit. Take, but please,
tell me.
Feedback: Falsehoods become fact when no one points
them out. Criticism is very welcome. Thank you for
what has been sent. Please don't stop. Ivy, Your
concerns will be addressed.
Thanks: Oracle, for inspiring Aki; My sis, D, for
being Deanna; and to Oz, for being Oz.
* * *

Rosenberg Residence, 
Sunnydale, California,
3pm.

Xander Harris had been to his childhood friend?s
home countless times in years gone by. And every time
felt strange, like he was some bizarre intruder. Like
he was unworthy to enter a house belonging to people
so much higher on the evolutionary ladder, compared to
his own stereotypical dysfunctional family. Of course
the blatant neglect the Rosenberg?s showed their
daughter, Willow, eased his discomfort some. Her pride
at being a ?Latchkey Kid? always brought a smile to
Xander?s face, ?Quirky, thy name is Willow.?
Willow fought down the urge to hyperventilate over
what she and her best friend were about to do, invade
her Father?s study. Xander noticed his best friend?s
hesitance and placed a calming hand on her shoulder,
?Relax Willow, we?re only here to find those papers,
not embezzle your trust fund.? He whispered, putting
her fears at ease.
?I know, but it still feels weird. Because I know
I?m not supposed to go in here without Dad being home
and I know were only getting those papers, but what if
they aren?t even in there? What if he put the papers
into his safe? I don?t know the combination and we?ll
have to try and crack the safe?s combination to open
it. But then we would be breaking the law and my dad
could have us arrested and I really don?t want to go
to jail because then I?d miss school and have bad
marks on my record and I?d never find those water
moccasins for the Prison showers in my size because
you know I have trouble finding shoes that fit because
I really do have small feet.? Xander held back
laughter as his best friend launched into a full-blown
babblefest that lasted the entire trip from the front
door to the door to her Father?s study. 
?Finished?? He asked, knowing this was a common
occurrence.
?Uh huh. I?ll look in the desk.? Willow replied,
blushing mildly and acting as though nothing bizarre
had happened. 
?Filing cabinet it is.? He mumbled, moving towards
the heavy oak cabinet. Trying the handle, Xander
growled at its lock. Pulling his jackknife from his
pants pocket, he was about to jimmy the lock when
Willow hissed at him. 
?Don?t break it, Dad brought that cabinet all the
way back from Brussels. He would seriously disown me
if that was so much as scratched.? Willow pleaded with
Xander.
?You?re practically disowned already Will,? he
thought to himself, but simply nodded and gently eased
the lockbolt upwards with the tip of the knife.
Opening the seven-foot tall locker, Xander checked
each sliding drawer and map nook with no results.
Willow turned back and lifted the top of the roll top
desk and rooted through the incredibly neat interior.
She checked each of the immaculate piles of bills,
paperwork, and memos. After finally searching the last
stack of papers, Willow sighed in dejected
disappointment. All that worrying for nothing, yet she
kept feeling like something was missing. 
Not that there was much to miss in the office, the
spacious antique roll top desk sat in the corner, next
to a wicker waist bin, the armoire like cabinet Xander
leaned against stood across the room with a mere inch
of clearance for the door. Across the doorway hung a
watercolor by a grateful patient of Dr. Rosenberg?s
and beneath that a small loveseat. A large plate glass
window gave anyone seated on the loveseat a splendid
view of the neighborhood and the genuine Persian rug
on the floor. A large, scoop necked Mexican vase sat
in the corner holding a tall, expensive looking,
plastic palm.
?Will??
?Yeah??
?Why would your father have a plastic palm tree
instead of a real one?? Xander asked, as an idea
struck him. ?Every other plant in the house is alive.?
Without a word, Willow kneeled before the pot and
gripped the two-inch thick trunk with both hands.
Gritting her teeth, she pulled hard on the thin
plastic tree. To say she was surprised when the tree
and two inches of false soil popped out of the vase
with little effort would be an understatement. The
whippy leafed branches slapped Xander across the face
as the tree fell onto the red headed hacker. Xander
helped his best friend to right the tree and looked
into the hollow vase?s depths. Willow reached in and
pulled out a single slip of folded paper.
Disappointment flooded the two friends. Unfolding
the paper, she read the short message:

If you?re reading this, then you?re early. Come
back for this after October 12th 2000.
The Dark One.

Xander turned to willow in disbelief, ?I don?t know
about you, but I wanna move. How about Miami??
Willow shook her head in shock. ?This town is too
odd. Who could possibly be interested in Legal papers
that have to do with me? Besides my Father??
?What about that vamp Buffy told us about?
Griddle??

?Jack?s probably interested.? He mumbled beneath
his breath, almost immediately regretting it.
?What?? came a rather stern reply. ?What about
Jack??
?Every time You and Jack are in the same room, his
eyes are stapled to your butt.? Xander replied, barely
managing to keep the jealousy out of his voice.
Kneeling, he replaced the paper in the vase and
settled the tree into place as Willow shook her head.
?You mean Buffy?s butt, not my butt, my butt never
gets eyes stapled to it? she stuttered, well on her
way to yet another full blown babble fit. Snapping his
fingers before her eyes, Xander halted her mental
train before it left the station. 
?I meant your butt Will, You?ve noticed. Besides,
Jack and Buffy are like you and me. All friendship
love, no Romancy type love.? Xander reaffirmed, giving
said butt a friendly swat as he passed her out the
front door. Willow stood behind for a moment,
realizing that Xander?s open denial of intimacy didn?t
seem to bother her anymore. 
?For that, you?re buying the Mochas.? Willow
announced and with a half grin, she followed her best
friend to the sidewalk. 

* * *
Laurie Marie, Dock 13
10 pm.

Boots scraped along the deck as the squat pudgy
figured move to the portside aft stairwell and
shuffled downwards. Imps formed from raw darkness and
the corrupting Influence from below decks scurried out
of the man?s way as he walked from the stairwell into
the ship?s primary hold. The Ship?s hold was a vast
cavernous chamber, empty of everything save a
bloodstained Iron altar draped with a heavy black
cloth. A slim, state of the art laptop lay open atop
the altar, powered up and waiting. A Screen saver
program of cascading glyphs shifted colors across the
screen.
A Bolchrast Demon dared to step closer to the pudgy
human and gingerly held out a thick bundle of dark
purple cloth, his distance due more to the human?s
odor than out of reverence. As the man wiped his
greasy hands on the legs of his brown trousers and the
waist of his sweat stained dress shirt, the demon
could barely refrain from snapping the neck of the
insultingly inferior mortal before it. With his four
thickly muscled arms and needle tipped scorpion-like
tail, the Demon, Shindo by name, was quite aware that
he could make this waste of protoplasm?s final moments
excruciatingly painful indeed.
Wendell Lieberman knelt before the reverently
placed laptop and bowed his head. ?Master.? The portly
sycophant wiped the remnants of a quart of Egg Drop
soup from his chins and steeled himself for a wave of
neural pain that was normally a prelude to his Liege?s
wrath.
A Digital image of a massively horned demon
appeared in the plasma screen, eyes blazing with an
infernal light. ?Wendell, my devoted acolyte. How long
has it been since this backup was made?? came the
digitally enhanced voice from several well concealed
high definition speakers.
?Nine days, Master. We had to be certain that the
Slayer didn?t know of your back up.? The sweaty
acolyte stammered, wary of the Demon?s wrath. 
?Yes. Nine days since the Slayer destroyed my body.
How goes the reconstruction of my Divine form??
?I have personally arranged for the construction of
your new body to begin, as soon as the new shipment of
processors and servos arrive.?
?The Net link??
?Well, um, Master; Finding a link up system that
can withstand your um unique energy signature without
overloading has been more difficult than originally
thoug.. AAAAHHHH!!!!? his excuses were cut off as
Moloch released a torrent of agony into Wendell?s
mind, dark twisted pain straight out of a Giger
painting. 
?I don?t want to hear excuses you pathetic worm. I
have given you freedom from that nagging bitch you
impregnated then married and those two squabbling hell
spawn you call daughters. I freed you from your
mistakes, and you repay me by leaving me to rot in
this silicon hell!? the digital voice too on a
disturbingly realistic tone as another wave of agony
shot through the overweight computer analyst turned
zealot. 
?Please mas, master. I beg your, your
forgiveness.? Lieberman blubbered before the enshrined
computer, alternating between weeping in pathetic fear
and pain. ?We?re trying to hijack a T3 unit, but I?ve
been unable to <sniffle> find any vampires to further
your goals. Master.? 
?What do you mean? I give you love, freedom and
power, and you can?t convince a single Vampire to
perform a single theft?? the Demon?s voice became more
plaintive, pleading.
?No Master, we can?t find any vampires period.
?Sensing another wave of displeasure from the digital
demon, he stammered out an excuse, ?Not even the
Master will subcontract any of his minions. He?s
sequestered all of his servants to his section of the
sewers and only lets out his human thralls for blood
runs. Master, I swear, we?ll establish a strong enough
link for you to enlighten the world to your
benevolence. Please Master, forgive me.? The sheer
pitiful groveling would have turned the Demon?s
stomach; if he had one, that is.
?I forgive you, Wendell. Go now to Willy?s bar,
Take Shindo with you. Find someone to retrieve that
which shall be mine and hurry. Go now my faithful
servant, go with my love.? The demon?s eyes flashed on
the final word and Wendell experienced an intense
moment of euphoric pleasure. Before Wendell fully came
down off his high, Moloch gave him a final command.
?Wendell, on your way back, bring me a mahjong
program.?
?As you wish Master.? Wendell babbled in between
fits of giggles as he stood and scurried away before
his Master changed the feeling from one of pleasure to
one of incredible horror.
Shindo, his form rapidly fading into that of a
non-descript human male teenager, looked up into the
pixilated image of his liege master, ?Mahjong, Sire??
?I?m sick of solitaire.?
* * *

Apartment of Rupert Giles
10pm.

Buffy Summers sat back in stunned silence, her mind
working at a faster speed than normal to process
everything her friend Jack had told her. Rupert Giles
slumped slightly in his wing-backed chair and held
back a serious urge to throttle the young Irishman who
leaned almost casually against his fireplace. Giles'
grandfather slumped heavily on the sofa, rubbing the
bridge of his nose at the brusque nature of his
friend's confession.
Jack Covington sighed as he watched the three
reactions to the last three hours of explanation. He
had expressed every iota of information that had been
deemed relevant all those years ago. Covering
everything from Divine mechanics to temporal
mechanics, to Finally, revealing his reason for being
in Sunnydale and for seeking out the Slayer nearly
half a year ago.
"So our entire friendship has been a, a, a," The
slayer struggled for the right word.
"Farce." Her Watcher supplied as he fingered the
Jambiya he used as a letter opener.
"Right, a Farce."
Jack shook his head in disbelief. "I've just spent
the better part of tonight telling you almost
everything and you think it's all been an act. You
have never before struck me as being so monumentally
ignorant." 
Buffy stood and assumed a very aggressive position
before Jack, "You fuck with my memories not once but
five times and then you call me ignorant? Give me one
reason I shouldn't beat the holy hell out of you right
now."
"One reason?" Jack answered as his eyes started to
glow deep blue. "Somnus."
As Buffy fell bonelessly to the floor, deeply
asleep, Giles leapt out of his chair and slammed the
young man against the cold fireplace, the marble
mantle digging into the Irishman?s chest. "What did
you do?" he snarled into the man's ear, pushing him
harder against the mantle, using his forearm as a ram
against Jack's shoulder blades. "What did you do to
her!?" 
"Rupert. Put him down." Vincent said calmly.
Giles snapped his head towards his grandfather in
anger. "And You! When were you going to tell me? I?m
you bloody grandson for Christ's sake! You could have
told me you were infected!" 
Vincent simply sighed and stood, with little effort
he pulled his grandson bodily from Jack and held them
apart. "Jack. Do what you were going to do then
explain yourself to Rupert." The Scotsman leaned down
and picked up his glass of scotch, suddenly very
thirsty.
Jack nodded, pressed two fingertips to Buffy left
temple and closed his eyes. Infinite seconds passed
and Giles watched in anger, unable to break his
grandfather's iron grip. Standing, Jack looked Giles
directly in the eye, "Giles, what I have done was
necessary. She isn't ready to consciously know the
information I've revealed to her tonight."
"So you wipe her memory like a blackboard!" Giles
snapped accusingly.
"Oh, do shut up." he replied to the Englishman,
then seeing Vincent's glare he sighed. "I have never
erased memories; hers or anyone else?s. It?s beyond my
skill in Mentalism. I?m completely incapable of doing
that; I simply pushed certain memories and the
knowledge I have revealed from her conscious mind to
her subconscious. She still retains the information
yet she cannot actively remember it." As he explained
himself, Vincent released his grandson and sank back
down onto the couch. Giles looked down at the
slumbering Slayer in concern. "Giles. If you never
believe another thing I tell you, believe this. I will
never hurt Buffy. I don't think I'm capable of it
anymore." The tone of Jack?s voice shook the
Englishman to the core before a familiar grin crept
onto his features. ?Besides, If I didn?t trust you,
I?d have given your own memories a push.?
Buffy started to come out of her arcane sleep with
soft groans as she stretched. Knowing the Slayer would
question her being sprawled on the floor, Jack made a
short intricate gesture and Buffy regressed minutely
back into slumber. He then hurriedly picked the Slayer
up off the floor and placed her lengthwise on the
sofa, bending her legs at the knees to allow room for
Macleod.
"Wha? Oh, Sorry about that,? she yawned, ?Didn't
realize I was so sleepy. What time is it?" Buffy asked
sleepily. She stretched her neck out and rolled her
shoulders. Giles moved to say something when Vincent
gripped his arm and squeezed sharply.
"About ten thirty." Jack said, helping Buffy to her
feet. 
"Damn! Jack. Graile said to meet him in the hold of,
um, some ship. At the docks." she tried to remember
which ship. "Laurie something."
"I take it he told you he wanted me there alone?"
Jack asked as he moved to pull his bomber jacket off
the coat hook.
"He may have said something like that, but you know
me, I tend to miss the important details." she
shrugged with a wicked glimmer in her eyes. "Not a
word Giles," she mumbled after hearing the Englishman
snort.
Jack pulled on his jacket and locked eyes with
Giles. ?We?ll be back soon Giles, Vincent.?
Buffy pulled the door open to reveal a startled
Xander with a raised hand. 
?Thanks for saving me from knocking, Buff.? Xander
said, in lieu of greeting. Looking to Jack, he
continued speaking to Buffy, ?Can we talk for a
minute?? Jack noted a faint flicker of mistrust in the
young man?s eyes.
?Uh sure. Jack, I?ll meet you at the car.? Buffy
edged out, looking at Xander curiously. As Jack moved
past the three teenagers, he briefly locked eyes with
Willow. 
A feeling of pity struck the redhead at the sheer
pain deep in Jack?s eyes. Buffy spied the look in
Willow?s eyes and resolved to have a long talk with
her best friend. ?Maybe Jack?s right. I should tell
her.?
As Jack moved towards his car, the three friends
walked into the Watcher?s apartment. Closing the door,
Xander started to reveal the lack of Legal papers and
the ?Dark One ? note to Buffy before stopping short at
seeing Macleod. ?Giles? Grandfather?? he stage
whispered to Buffy.
?Yes. Xander, Willow, meet Vincent Macleod, Giles?
Grandfather. Mr. Macleod, Alexander Harris and Willow
Rosenberg.? Buffy introduced her friends to the
elderly Scotsman before opening the front door. ?Well
guys, Jack and I are after Graile. You three stay
here.? Seeing her two best friends about to protest,
she held up her hand. ?I?m not hearing any argument
this time.? After receiving three nods of assent, she
pulled Angel?s leather coat on and closed the door
behind her. Realization that she was on her way to
hunt down and confront an Elder vampire well over two
thousand years old dawned on the young Slayer. ?I
should have told her.? Numbly, she walked slowly to
Jack?s midnight black car.
Giles reluctantly let the Slayer go and turned to
the two who were chatting politely with his
grandfather. ?Any luck finding those legal papers?? he
asked, sipping his now tepid Lap sang.
Xander shook his head. ?We found where they were
kept, but someone beat us to them.?
Willow leaned over at the wais and rubbed her
ankles through her socks. ?All we found was a note
telling us to come back in 2001. And get this, it was
signed the ?Dark One?. Now from what Buffy told me
about her run in with Graile last night, it could have
been him. She said he had dark skin.?

* * *

Jack sat in the driver?s seat of his Cutlass for a
brief time and watched the three friends walk into the
Englishman?s flat. A tingle passed over the back of
his neck and he counted off three fingers. The Car
phone rang as if on cue, and after hitting the speaker
button, a much too chipper voice came clearly from the
visor speaker. ?Evening Jack.? 
?Aki.? 
?Oh, goody, I?ve caught you in one of your more
talkative moods.? Silence answered the ebon skinned
girl. ?Anyhoo, Pike?s healing nicely, but the Hunter
got away.?
?Any idea who that Hunter was?? 
?A few. Deanna thinks it was Ash, but you and I
both know she never hunts the just hearted. Lucy and I
think it?s Renard again, the manky git. You got any
ideas Boss?? In New York Aki stretched out while
upside down in Jack?s favorite leather recliner, her
heavily buried English accent poking through her end
of the conversation.
?Ask around for Cho Minn?s location that night. And
don?t call Lucius ?Lucy?. He hates that.?
?Which is why I do it, speaking of Mr. Inflatable
Muscles, he?s banned me from the Kitchen again.?
?Were you making Tea again?? Jack grinned.
Aki, sensing the oncoming teasing over her rather
pungent tea, noticed Deanna standing two feet from her
head, tapping the toe of her boot in wait. ?I think
Deanna wants to talk with you.?
Jack grinned at the rather pathetic subject change.
?Put her on, and Aki??
?Yeah Jack??
?Be Good.?
?No.? came the cheerful reply as she handed the
phone to the tall, dark haired Vampiress and scampered
out of the room. 
Deanna shook her head for a moment and spoke into
the phone, ?Jack??
?Aki gone??
?Yes. Jack, in all of my 130 odd years on this
planet I have never seen someone scamper before
tonight.?
?I?m going to ignore that. What?s happening?? The
Irishman asked, already knowing atleas one answer
already.
?Well, we?re out of blood, Pike isn?t healing fast
enough, The Vatican has called again, and Mayor
Giuliani called, there are reports of ?Giant Rats? in
the Bronx sewers again.? 
?Danforth?s Tribe return?? Jack nodded as the
Slayer opened the passenger door and slid onto the
supple leather seat. 
Deanna snorted in derision. ?Not likely. Not after
Aki threatened to magically tamper his broodmares to
produce tailless litters. That?s one Wererat who?s
never coming to a Yankee?s game again.?
?Say hello to Buffy. Call Lazuli?s Butcher Shop in
Brooklyn for blood, Pike is healing just fine, what
does his Holiness? Emissary want now?? Jack asked
almost robotically, his tone lacking any shred of
curiosity. 
Buffy interrupted the electronic conversation,
?What do you mean Pike?s healing just fine? What
happened to him?? 
As he was about to answer, Deanna beat him to it.
?A Hunter got a lucky blow in with a Jade Axe, If you
Must know,? Her tone not helping Buffy to restrain her
anger. 
Jack hit the Mute button. ?Sorry about D, She?s
still a little sore about you and Pike.? 
Buffy shook her head, ?Pike and I were never that
serious.?
?That?s Deanna for you, she?s? Territorial.?
Buffy pinched the bridge of her nose at the
misdirecting nature of her friend. ?Jack. Tell me
everything. Right now.? She bit each word out slowly,
her hand instinctively forming a fist in response to
her anger. 
?Four months ago, Pike was bitten by a Weretiger
who happens to be? An acquaintance of mine. It was
completely voluntary, I assure you. The why is Pike?s
business. He simply requested to keep you out of it
for as long as possible.? Jack replied before hitting
the mute button on the car phone and shifting into
drive, jetting out into the night towards the Pier.
?D, what does His Eminence want this month??
The Slayer sensed that was all she?d get from the
Irishman and resolved to have a very long telephone
conversation with her old boyfriend. She leaned back
in the front seat and checked the stake up the sleeve
of her jacket.
?The Tabard of St. George.? The Vampire answered,
struggling not to laugh. 
?You have got to be kidding me?? The disbelief in
his voice was blatant.
?Yeah, why not ask for the Crown of Thorns.? She
sniffed in amusement.
?No, I meant they already have the Tabard. It?s in
their Vaults. They keep worse records than a Pimp?s
accountant.?
?They already have it? Should we tell them??
Jack grinned devilishly. ?Tell Cardinal Benschotti
that we?ll take the Op. This is a good time to reclaim
the Scrolls of Sappho, a Dark Rose seedling, and the
Helm of Gilgamesh.?
Buffy shook her head in disbelief, ?Jack, I may not
completely understand what you and Deanna are talking
about, but please tell me you?re not going to rob the
Vatican.?
The silence in the convertible was deafening even
with the top down. Jack?s finger hovered over the
disconnect button on the car phone. ?Bye Deanna.?
Click.

* * *

Willow sat timidly on Giles? couch; well aware of
the scrutiny Vincent was putting her under. Xander sat
next to his lifelong friend holding the kukri Giles
had held on to; blissfully oblivious to her discomfort
as he held an in-depth discussion with the old
Scotsman about the Harley Davidson parked out front.
Rupert stood in the kitchen of his bachelor pad,
trying to make tea while keeping his hands from
shaking. ?I just stood by as my charge has gone
hunting for an Elder Vampire.? He thought to himself.
?I just killed Buffy Summers.? That thought struck him
like a physical blow. Walking into the Living room, he
nodded to Xander. ?We?ve waited long enough, let?s
go.?

* * *

Following Jack?s convertible to the docks proved to
be a challenge to the Englishman. His Citroen seemed
to crawl along the highway, filled as it was with
himself, Xander, Willow, and his Grandfather, not to
mention a long sword, Giles? crossbow, a bag of
stakes, and Vincent?s Mossberg M590 slide action
shotgun. The silence within the British import was
deafening. Xander turned around in the forward
passenger seat and looked dead in Vincent?s eyes.
?I?ve gotta know, When did you meet Jack?? 
The old Scotsman grinned and thought back for a
moment. ?Before I answer that question, let me explain
about my affliction.?
Willow reflexively edged away from him in the
cramped confines of Giles?s auto. ?What affliction??
?Vincent has Lycanthropy; Specifically, of the
Asian Tiger strain of the disease.? Giles sounded
hurt, angry, and very afraid for his grandfather. 
?Very good Rupert. I was? infected, in
Northwestern India. After a fierce battle in a heavily
forested valley, in which I was seeking a Key Stone of
Shangri-la, I was resting with a bottle of scotch when
Aiukio Tetsuro reclined beside me? his voice drifted
off as he remembered the encounter. ?What happened
afterwards is none of your business.? He grinned.
Giles sighed in relief, ?Your infection was
accidental.?
?Not quite Rip. I knew full well that I would be
infected.?
After Giles regained control of the car after
nearly swerving into a steep earthen Embankment he
sputtered, ?You WHAT?? 
Vincent nearly snarled in disapproval. ?Rupert
Anthony Giles! There are children in this vehicle,
either control yourself or pull to the side of the
road.? 
Even as an adult, his Grandfather using his middle
name in That tone was still filled with enough
authority to fill him with shame, remembering that
Xander and Willow were also in the car only made him
feel worse. ?I?m sorry Grandfather.?
Xander received one of his few moments of
incredible insight. ?Uh, Mr. Macleod.?
?We?re not related Xander, you can call me Vince.?
?Vince, you didn?t answer my question.?
?I was about to, you?re a very impatient young
man.? His disarming smile took the sting out of his
words. ?The battle took place about ten years after
the Emerald Fire of 1875.?
Xander ceased breathing for a short time. ?That
would make you??
?Well over one hundred and fifty yeas old, yes I
know.?
?Emerald what?? Willow asked in confusion. ?I?ve
never heard of that.?
?The Emerald Fire was a phenomenon that occurred on
January 1st of 1895. A Drunk and a nocturnally
wandering priest were witnesses. They reported a giant
green pillar of fire in the center of Stonehenge. It?s
widely discredited among the more conventional Occult
Investigators.
?So the lycan,? Xander hesitated over the word.
?Lycanthropy.?
?Right, the Lycanthropy kept you young all this
time?? Xander started to sound curious.
?Well, oh. We?re here.? The Vincent sounded
relieved that the questioning was over.

* * *

Wendell Lieberman was lazy at heart, only motivated
when time was short. So naturally, he left the
relatively comfortable confines of the freighter?s
Captain?s Cabin. His pudgy framed moved sluggishly
down the gangplank and stopped dead in the middle at
the cross-armed blonde standing at the foot of the
incline. 
Behind the diminutive, yet menacing teen stood a
tall, muscled young man leaning against the hood of a
inky black convertible, a thick bladed gladius hung
tight at his side. ?You might want to back up there
?Cap?n? he called, nodding his head towards the ship
as Buffy started to climb. Wendell stood petrified as
the Slayer advanced up the walkway. Standing as near
as her sense of smell would allow, she shook her head
and leapt, flipping over the terrified acolyte and
resumed her silent climb upwards. 
Jack waited until Buffy moved beyond sight onto the
Ship?s deck before starting up the gangway himself.
?Wendell Lieberman. In two weeks, you will be reunited
with your twelve-year-old daughter. You will then kill
her in the most obscene fashion that I have seen in
all the time I?ve walked this planet.? Jack moved
slowly up the way as Wendell slowly started to back
up. ?I?ve never actually enjoyed murder. I?ve always
considered it as lacking in creativity.? Before the
portly zealot knew what had happened, Jack had dashed
up the remaining space between them and stared deeply
into his eyes. A long drawn out sound of metal on
metal as the large Roman sword appeared and slid up
between the two men. ?But sometimes? Sometimes it?s
necessary.? The Irishman whispered, as he and the
blade in his gloved hand twisted in place, slicing
Wendell clean in half, vertically. Finishing the sword
stroke, he sliced the chain lengths along both sides
of the gangway; allowing the newly divided acolyte to
separate with a sickening ?Glick? and fall quietly
into the water below.
Unnoticed behind them, Giles? Citroen slipped
sickly into park and its occupants exited the
decomposing British import. By the time the quartet
had exited the Citroen, the misshapen lumps of flesh
that had been Wendell Lieberman was a mere ripple in
the water below. Jack leaned on the gladius, appearing
for all the world as though he had wielded his war
blade against an entire army. 

* * *

Buffy moved slowly across the deck of the ship,
wary of vampires springing from the shallowest of
shadows. Finding an access to the lower decks, she
stood very quietly, listening for any sounds before
moving cautiously into the darkened hold. Roughly four
meters of dark, cramped stairwells let out into a side
scaffold into the freighter?s main hold, a vast
chamber lit sporadically by wax covered candelabra and
bulkhead lights. 
Eventually, the Slayer stood before the altar,
looking into the digital eyes of a very put out
corruption demon. ?You know Moloch, I was expecting
someone else.?

* * *

Shindo gripped the railing and looked down at the
advancing quintet as they moved up the gangway, biding
his time to strike. He leaned forward to pounce, his
scorpion-like tail tensed and ready. Eyeing the
redhead human walking across the deck, he considered
leaving her alive for spawning.
Below the crouching demon, Giles moved slowly
across the deck, unknowingly mimicking Buffy?s earlier
movements. Vincent moved deliberately towards the
Ship?s bridge, seeking the cargo manifest and
Itinerary. Xander and Willow followed the Watcher,
moving solely on fear driven autopilot. Vincent
stopped just prior to entering the bridge and sniffed
the light wind; his eyes widened as he caught a trace
of a very unpleasant scent. The old Scotsman whistled
a shrill note and Jack snapped his head towards
Vincent, who simply pointed upwards without moving.. 
Jack nodded and milled around on deck as the three
Sunnydale residents moved towards the below decks
access and Vincent entered the bridge. When he was
certain all eyes save two were averted, Jack made his
move, first leaping twelve feet up to grip the railing
of the Bridge balcony, he pulled himself over and,
perched on the railing, he then leapt straight up
again and grabbed the lip of the roof. Keeping an eye
on the approaching Demon, he readjusted the grip on
his Gladius. 
Vincent, having watched the Irishman?s remarkable
display of Gymnastics, was struck with inspiration, He
moved quickly towards the opposite bridge entrance and
called for Xander. When the teenager drew near, he
pointed with his Mossberg upwards, ?I think Jack could
use your help lad, hurry up that ladder, and be wary,
there be a Demon lurking.?
Xander opened his mouth to ask how he knew a Demon
was near when the old man tapped his nose and blinked
repeatedly, his eyes shifting from human, to cat-like,
and back to human. Xander nodded and moved to the
ladder, slinging the crossbow over his shoulder.
He began to climb the ladder, resolving to try and
stop asking stupid questions. As he moved up the
ladder, dim sounds he could barely hear began to sound
clearer, a vigorous battle was being waged atop the
Bridge, battle cries sounded in between growls and
snarls, both human and Demon. Peeking over the lip of
the building, he saw Jack slash downward with his long
blade, only to have it stopped cold by a black metal
buckler strapped to one of the demon?s left forearms. 
Unslinging the crossbow, Xander set the weapon flat
on the lip of the roof and aimed it carefully towards
the very unsettling monster fighting one of his new
friends. Pulling the trigger, the bolt flew the short
distance in a blink, and lodged half it?s length deep
into the Demon?s left side, roughly where a human?s
kidney would have been. The Demon roared in pain and
reacted, turning to snarl at the pesky human, giving
Jack the window he wanted to cleave tit?s lower left
hand off at the wrist. Xander reloaded the crossbow
and nearly fell off the ladder when Shindo reared on
him.

* * *

Buffy stood with arms crossed having an incredibly
pointless conversation with the trapped demon, as
Giles and Willow walked confusedly towards the Slayer,
constantly looking around the cavernous hold for
Moloch?s minions. ?The ship?s empty, guys. Apparently,
Graile led us here a bit early.? The slayer said, not
breaking eye contact with the digital demon.
Giles? resheathed the long sword with a sigh of
relief. ?Buffy, please explain just what is going on.?

Willow nodded in agreement, moving closer to the
laptop before noticing whose curved horned visage was
pixilated on screen. ?Moloch!?
The demon focused on the redhead, and winced,
knowing that this, his last incarnation, was doomed.
Returning his focus to the Slayer, the red lights of
his eyes narrowed. ?Know this Slayer. Had I one tenday
more, you would now be facing my new body and victory
would have been mine. But before you kill me, I must
know one thing.?
Buffy, being in a good mood from not having to
fight anything, shrugged. ?Shoot.?
?How did you find me?? his voice lacking any shred
of dignity or intimidation. 
?A very old Vampire tricked me. He told me he would
be here.?
?The Master betrayed me?? Moloch?s outrage was
plainly evident.
Willow moved closer, confident that Buffy would
stop ?Malcom?s? true self from harming her anymore.
?Not the Master. Graile led us here. Ever heard of
him??
?Graile??
?Yeah, he?s supposedly a Vampire from Nero?s day.
He?? Willow was interrupted by Moloch?s rant.
?Yes I know who Graile is you pathetic vermin!
Graile Kaer T?Carrock is one of the oldest Vampires on
this planet! He was terrorizing humanity since before
your Religion was founded. ?Miss Rosenberg?. And if
Graile is truly involved with any of you, then I?m
pleased to leave this plane of existence so
painlessly.? The Demon sounded almost relieved as a
shutdown window popped up, obscuring the Demon?s face.
?Wait,? Willow pleaded, ?What do you mean he?s
older than my religion? There were Hebrew around long
before Caesar!?
?Graile isn?t Roman.?
?Then where is he from?? Willow felt like she was
on to something.
?Babylon.? Were the Demon?s final words before the
shutdown window popped up again, this time terminating
the slim laptop and darkening the screen.
Stunned silence followed for a brief moment. Buffy
drew the short sword from Giles? belt and raised the
blade to finally purge Earth from Moloch?s influence
for good. Giles barely halted the Slayer?s strike as
an idea struck him profoundly. ?Buffy wait. I have an
idea.?

* * *

Xander looked down at the Demon?s corpse and blew
out a tired breath. ?That. Was a Big demon.? He
mumbled, rubbing his shoulder where the Demon had
kicked him. He bent down and pried his kukri out of
the Bolchrast?s neck, jamming it there after getting a
lucky hit in and slicing the stinger off its tail.
?Have I mentioned how glad I am that you sharpened
this thing?? he asked, turning to the young Irishman
who was nursing a deep cut on his right forearm from a
lucky talon scratch. 
Jack nodded, winded from the fight, he pulled his
large gladius from the Demon?s ribcage and looked at
the stinger sticking out of it?s neck. ?What possessed
you to think of using the stinger against it??
?Discovery Channel. Didja know a scorpion will
sting itself when trapped without a chance of escape??
?Really? Huh, I learn something new every day.?
Impressed, Jack gestured for Xander to head down the
ladder first.

* * *
Rupert Giles? Apartment.
1am.

Jack lay stretched out on Giles couch, with Buffy
sitting quite comfortably on his abdomen, while
Vincent laughed. Xander and Willow lay sprawled on the
floor, Jack and Buffy?s continued familiar camaraderie
driving a spike of jealousy deep into the redhead?s
heart. Giles sat at his desk, staring at the folded
laptop before him, wondering if it truly was the wise
thing to do. In the morning, he would ask willow to
plunder the Demon?s memory banks, steal as much arcane
knowledge and history that they could before finally
purging the computer of the Demon?s electronic essence
permanently. ?That can wait till morning.? He thought
to himself, as he stood to usher his young charges
home and finally get some sleep. 

* * *
3am.

Giles returned from giving the teens a ride home
and nodded to his Grandfather who was sharing a glass
of scotch with Jack. ?Jack. Moloch said that? Graile
was born in Babylon. Is that true??
Jack nodded and drained his glass, shaking his head
at Vincent?s silent gesture for a refill. ?According
to several texts the Watcher?s Council has probably
not allowed you access to, Graile was born in the
Merchant?s quarter. His father was a jewel merchant of
some renown and his Mother was a slave, speculated to
have come from the early tribes of Britania and
possibly Eire.? He coughed and rubbed his ribs.
?Giles, Graile is not a threat to Buffy, no matter
what he tells her. I swear to you, The Elder vampire
known as Graile will die by my own hands before he
harms a hair on any of your children?s heads.?
Giles nodded in acceptance. ?I take it you?re
leaving soon then??
?Aye. Assuming I can borrow your couch for the
night?? seeing an affirmative nod, ?Tell B that
something came up.? And with that, the exhausted
Irishman slowed his own breathing and began to fall
deeply asleep.
?Before you fall asleep, Jack. I have a question.?
Two emerald eyes snapped open. ?That night at the
crypt, when we caught Buffy and Willow in an embrace??
?Yes???
?A storm sprang up rather suddenly. Too suddenly
for this region. Why do I get the feeling you were
involved with that somehow??
Vincent slapped his forehead in disbelief. ?Och,
you canna be serious Jack. Tell me you didn?t.?
Giles turned between the two in confusion. ?Tell
you he didn?t do what!?
?Hand it over Jack.? The old Scotsman chided. The
Irishman reached into the pocket of his bomber jacket
and pulled out a small, beaded ovoid wooden charm,
which he then tossed to the aggravated Watcher. 
Giles looked down at the intricately carved wooden
device. ?A Fetish??
Jack sounded very tired, ?A Spell fetish,
enchanted to hold a one time use spell, to conjure a
pretty good sized thunderstorm.?
?You altered the weather pattern of a fairly large
region just to get those two in a cozy position?!?
Giles? tone rising in bewilderment.
Jack grinned smugly. ?How do you think the big
kitten and your Great Grandmother finally got
together?? The Scotsman had the good grace to cough in
embarrassment. Jack simply stretched out again on
Giles? couch and fell instantly asleep.
Vincent turned to his Grandson. ?I?d love to know
how he does that. I?ll stay a few days longer, I?d
like to spend some time and catch up. It has been a
fair number of years since last we spoke Ripper.? 
?I?d like that Grandfather.?

The two men sat long into the night, reminiscing,
drinking a fair amount of Scotch and then bourbon.
Eventually the two men walked comradely down to the
corner pub for a few pints and talked about matters,
both grave and inconsequential. 

Buffy lay stretched out on her bed, ankles crossed
casually as the Slayer talked cheerfully into the
receiver of her phone to a certain redhead. ?So Wills,
how far have you gotten with the Molocomputer??
?Not very far, I have to have the computer booted
to access the files and he really gets on my nerves,
but he learned real quickly not to try that Malcom
crap with me again.? Willow sounded both pissed and
embarrassed. 
?Hey, calm down. I still say he used demony mojo on
you.? Buffy reasoned, ?Have you thought of muting the
sound??
?Yeah, five minutes into his spiel. Now he resists
my hacking and plays minesweeper. It?s pretty funny, I
almost joined him for a poker game.? She laughed,
wondering what Pj?s the blonde was wearing tonight. 
?Only you could get invited to a poker game with a
computer back up of a corruptor demon.? Buffy
stretched and yawned, picturing the redhead sprawled
over her, lounging in post coital bliss. Shaking her
head, she barely caught the end of her friends
statement.
??the complete lack of demon types?? Willow asked.
?What??
?I said, did you notice the complete lack of demon
types? Back on the ship, it was empty.?
?I was talking with Moloch before you guys got
there. He practically apologized for not having any
minions for me to fight.? Buffy joined the hacker in
laughter. ?I?m serious, this was of course after he
tried to corrupt me.?
?Oh, Buffy, we went into my Dad?s study.? Willow
whispered. Sitting on the floor, the young hacker
stretched a kink in her back from sitting on the floor
so long and slumped back against her bed, ?But where
we think the legal papers used to be? We only found a
note telling us we were early! And get this, it was
signed ?The Dark One?. You said that Graile was dark
skinned right??
?First, Graile?s not dark skinned, he?s black. Not
African black, obsidian black. Second, It could be
him, but why would an Elder Vampire be interested in
legal papers from Jack?s law firm regarding you??
Buffy felt a seed of mistrust take root deep inside
her regarding her ?old friend?.
?Uh, Buffy, do you get the feeling Jack?s not
telling us everything??
?Yeah. We?re going to have a long talk. Good night
Willow.?
?Good night Buffy.? The redhead hung up the phone
and stared at it for a moment longer. ?I love you
Buffy.?
The blonde Slayer held the wireless phone in her
hand and closed her eyes in shame. ?I love you
Willow.?

Graile shifted from his human form to his demonic
visage and ran an incredibly dark hand through a wild
shock of likewise unnaturally white hair. Stepping
through a cement portal, he stepped into a long sewer
access tunnel and continued his journey to the
Master?s Lair. Looking up through a street vent, the
predawn sky was slowly lightening, moving from deep
indigo to a lighter violet. Turning a left corner, he
stood face to face with a hulking vampire clutching a
nail studded baseball bat. Looking down at the Elder
Vampire, he snarled, ?You lost Nigger?? 
Graile?s eyes flared bright blue, like the heart of
a candle. His hand snaps out and clamps onto the thug
vamp?s throat and squeezed hard. ?First, I hate that
word.? A harder squeeze, ?Second. My name is Graile. I
am over seven thousand years old. I can kill you in
way far more agonizingly painful than you will ever
discover in Hell.? More pressure and the thug?s head
popped off, ?Third, I am never lost.? Graile continued
past the pile of ashes towards the Master?s main
chamber.
Heinrich Joseph Nest at on his throne, dreading his
rapidly approaching guest. As soon as the expensively
dressed Vampire entered his throne room, he gestured
his servants to leave. Most left before the signal had
been given. ?Hello again Heinrich.? Graile moved to
stand ten feet from the Master. ?I am leaving this
pathetic burg. Your children are free to once again
feed upon the citizens.? He turned abruptly to leave.
Just prior to the door, he turned. ?Among the Slayer?s
flock is a redhead. Touch her and I will stake you out
in the deserts of Las Vegas for Sunrise. She is
important to my goals.? Leaving, the Master sighed and
slumped down in his chair.

As the sun climbed the sky, Jack drove off in his
black convertible, but not before Vincent gave him
something he had long thought was lost; A faded color
photograph. Turning the Olds onto a highway headed
east out of Sunnydale, half of his mind was focused on
driving, the other half on the image; A simple 3x4 of
himself and a smiling redhead, their arms entwined. A
couple danced in the background, a tall, darkly
handsome man who held a shorter blonde tightly,
unguarded love flared from their eyes as they were
captured in that moment. All four had content happy
smiles on their faces. All four wore rings on their
left ring fingers.

* * *
Fin.

Macbeth
The Kilted Moogle
The Kamikazi Scotsman


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