FIC: To Conquer Death - Interlude/Part Two - NC-17 - B?W/Dakota

[<djgirl1978@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

Title: To Conquer Death
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: B/W/Dakota
Disclaimers: The usual
Spoilers: Nah.
Feedback: Yeah!
Distribution: Ask first.
Summary: Sequel to The Prophet... actual plot and stuff.  
---
 
INTERLUDE: BUFFY
 
We went to the Bronze last night as a trio for the first time. Dakota had the idea to show up in nearly identical outfits, and we went shopping for them together yesterday afternoon. We ended up in black jeans and black DocMarten boots - her present to us - and skintight midriff shirts in different colors. I got green, to match my eyes. Willow chose blue, because it looks so good with her hair and gives her eyes a distinctly bluish look. Dakota, no surprise, chose black. When I saw her in her outfit for the firsttime, I told her she looked dangerous, and I meant it.  
 
Then I decided to play on that. I convinced her to wear makeup, just for the night, and when she consented, I did her eyes in slate grey and her lipstick in the deepest blackberry I could find. When I was done, she looked almost like Faith. Willow allowed me to make her up as well, and I did her eyes in blue to bring out the color in her irises, and her lips in cotton-candy pink. For me, I wore earth tones because I didn't want to steal the others' thunder. But when we stood together in front of the huge mirror in the master bath at Dakota's house, I realized that we were all three stunning. All three of us had grown our hair long and were wearing it tied back in ponytails with wisps at the temples, and if it hadn't been for the differences in coloring and height, we could have been triplets. It was definitely going to be an interesting night.
 
Every eye was on us when we walked into the club that night. As a last minute touch, Dakota had unearthed a navel ring that had a blinking blue-and-red light in it, which turned even more heads our direction. We strolled upto the table the rest of the Scoobs had appropriated, and I watched with some amusement as Xander's jaw dropped to about the level of his knees. Anya turned to see what he was staring at, saw us, and smirked. She made whatwas probably an inappropriate sexual comment, judging by the expression that crossed Giles's face, and I was glad we weren't close enough to hear her. Spike, whom Willow had invited rather against my better judgment, was drooling all over himself in typical Spikely fashion. And Tara, our newest little head case, just kind of smiled to herself.
 
Tara was an interesting situation, and I was actually kind of glad she had joined the Scoobies. She and Willow had bonded over a campus Wicca group in which they were the only two people who knew anything about real magic, and she had begun hanging out with the three of us and, by extension, the other Scoobs, socially. Then, late one night shortly before her twentieth birthday, she had come to the three of us for help. I remembered it clearly and, looking at her little grin as we approached the table, I was glad we'dbeen there to help her.
 
"You h-h-have to help me. P-P- Please. I'm in t-trouble." Those words were just about the only ones guaranteed to grant the speaker entrance into the house at 1630 Revello Drive. Dakota stepped back and let a frantic Tara in the house, closing and locking the door behind her with a nervous glanceinto the street.
 
"What's going on, Tara?" she asked, leading the frightened girl into the living room where, a moment before, we had been watching a Monty Python movie. Willow, seeing the state Tara was in, went into the kitchen to put some tea on.
 
Tara alternated her gaze between Dakota and Buffy. "I kn- know you know about d-d-demons and things. I, um, I t-talked to a girl who s-said you s-saved her f-from a v-v-vampire." She paused uncertainly. Dakota nodded at her encouragingly, and she continued. "I... a-a-all the women in my f-family are part d-demon. M-m-my f-father is h-here f-f-for my b-birthday a-and h-he w-w-wants to m-make m-me come h-home s-so h-he can k-k-keep m-me... I-I mean it - under c-control. B-But I d-don't want to go. S-So I w-wanted to see if you kn-knew a w-w-way t-t-to bind a d-d-demon."
 
Dakota leaned forward, fascinated. "What kind of demon?" she asked. Whenshe only got a confused look from Tara, she elaborated. "There are many different species of demons in the world. We need to know what kind of demon in order to find the correct binding spell. All spells don't work on alldemons."
 
Tara shook her head, clearly despairing. "I d-d-don't know."
 
Dakota nodded. "There's a way I can find out. If I look in your eyes, I can tell anything I want to know about you. But it's a big invasion of yourprivacy, because I can't control what I do and don't see. If you'll let me, I can try -"
 
"Y-Y-Yes, p-please! I d-d-don't c-care." Tara looked eagerly at Dakota. "P-Please."
 
Dakota knelt in front of the young witch and looked directly into her eyes.She froze as she was drawn into Tara's mind, and didn't notice when Willow came back with the cup of tea. Buffy began to worry when the two women stayed locked in rapport, neither moving, and put her hand between their faces to break the eye contact. When she did, both of them fell backwards with identical explosions of breath.
 
"Oh, my God, Tara," Dakota exclaimed when she could speak. "You're amazing. I never met anyone as powerful as you before." Tara tried to shyly demur, but Dakota would have none of it. "I'm serious. You're going to be an amazing witch one day."
 
"Did you find out what kind of demon she is?" Buffy asked, bringing them back to the topic.
 
"Oh, yeah," the brunette responded. "She's not." The others gaped at her until she glared. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? The girl'snot a demon. She's been lied to."
 
"B-B-But, they said, the m-m-magic, it c-comes from the d-d-demon..." Tara's voice trailed off in confusion.
 
"Well, there's one other way I can check to be absolutely certain," Dakota stated flatly.
 
"P-Please. I h-h-have to be sure."
 
Dakota sighed, pulled Tara close as though preparing to look in her eyes again, then gamefaced and sank her fangs into the young witch's neck. Almostbefore Tara had a chance to scream, Dakota had released her and de-vamped,shaking her head in disgust. "Girl, I don't know what your family's problem is, but you've been lied to. Big time. You're no more demon than Willow is."
 
Tara's hand crept up to her neck, gingerly touching the bite mark. "Really?"
 
Dakota nodded grimly. "I know human blood, and I know demon blood. And you're no demon."
 
Tara slept on the couch in the living room that night, and faced her familythe next morning with a Slayer and a vampire standing behind her, ready and more than willing to bodily prove to the Maclays that their young witch wasn't going anywhere she didn't want to go. Since that time, Tara had beena full-fledged member of the Scooby Gang, and had blossomed in the warmth of their friendship.
 
I saw again in my memory the scared little girl who had come to my house begging for help, and I contrasted her with the self-confident young woman who met us at the Bronze with some satisfaction. Tara was an awesome person and I was glad she was with us. She had also proved very valuable with themagic thing, actually knowing more about it than Willow and being able to tutor and, to some extent, temper Willow. Dakota and I had gotten a littleconcerned about Willow's thirst for magical power, but Tara seemed to be able to exert a sort of controlling influence on her for which we were both grateful.
 
She continued to smile that little half-grin as we strolled up to the table, hand in hand. Everyone stared at us, but Giles was the first to speak. He didn't even bother to clean his glasses. "I suppose this is your elaborate way of demonstrating to us that you're... er... all together?"
 
Dakota grinned evilly at him. "I suppose so, British dude. You cool with that?"
 
He smiled tiredly. "Has anything I've ever not been 'cool' with ever stopped anyone at this table from doing anything that they wanted to do?"
 
I just laughed. "We're going to go dance," I announced to everyone and no one, and dragged my girlfriends out on the floor to make all the boys jealous.




PART TWO
 
Janna came awake with a start when her ears popped as the plane began its descent into Raleigh-Dalton Airport. She positioned herself next to the cargo hold door, slung the backpack over her shoulder that one of her contactshad filled with supplies for her, and waited for the plane to slow as it taxied toward the terminal, pulling it open slightly and trying to gauge when she could jump out with the least amount of damage to herself. She gauged wrong and leapt a bit too soon, tucking and rolling and coming up with some pretty serious scrapes on her arms and the left side of her face. She looked around for a moment, steadying herself and catching her bearings, then set off for the nearest fence, vaulting over it just as the tinny sounds of shouts from the terminal reached her ears, letting her know she'd been spotted.  
 
She dashed across the access road which lay beyond the fence and into a stand of trees that proved fortunately deep enough to provide some cover. There, she dropped to the ground and breathed a sigh of relief, calming and centering herself and trying to decide on the best course of action to take from here.  
 
She had no contacts on this side of the Atlantic, which was going to make her job a lot tougher. If she'd known even one demon, witch or even an ordinary human who knew something about the mystical world, she'd have been in a lot better shape, and she knew it. There just hadn't been time to get a letter of introduction from any of the shady types who had sped her out of England to the Continent, and thence into the plane to America. She thought briefly about her options. Who might she contact and be certain of help?
 
A thought dawned in the back of her mind. Her family. She hadn't seen herfamily in over eight years, since she had left their home to attend the boarding school that her Watcher had abducted her from, and hadn't really even thought about them in something like five years. Her parents, four brothers and two sisters, grandmothers and grandfathers, aunts and uncles; all of these she had in south Georgia. And they were obscenely wealthy. They could easily transport her to California and help her find the Slayer. She was standing up and wondering which would be the best direction to go in tolook for a telephone when she had a brief flash of the conversation that might ensue once she had one of her family members on the telephone. She became so amused and disgusted with herself that she spoke aloud. "Oh, that's intelligent, Markham. 'Hi, Mom, it's Janna. I know you haven't heard from me in upwards of eight years, and I do apologize for that. You see, I've been in London training for the eventuality when I'll become the Slayer. What? Oh, a Slayer is a girl who fights and kills vampires and demons, tokeep the world safe for humanity. Yes, yes, I want to see you, too, but there's a murder conspiracy afoot in the Council right now, and I've got to get to California and warn the current Slayer that the Council is going to come and try to kill her friend Dakota, who is a vampire immune from sunlight due to the fact that she should have been a Slayer, but was killed and turned before she had the opportunity to be called. Any chance you could spring for an airline ticket?'" She snorted at herself. "You moron."
 
No, the family reunion would have to wait until after she had gotten to theSlayer. So, she wondered to herself, how does a nearly-penniless young person travel three thousand miles across the North American continent?
 
"Thanks so much for the ride!" Janna exclaimed, climbing into the cab of the Freightliner that stopped to pick her up. She flashed the her most charming smile at the grizzled driver, a man who looked to be about sixty years old, and pushed all the Oxford out of her voice to speak in the informal Cockney that she'd learned in the underbelly of London. "Grand of you, really."
 
"Ain't no problem, little miss," the driver returned, smiling back at her. "Where ya headed?"
 
"California," she replied. "Me sister's there, in Sunnydale, said I could come to 'er." She eyeballed the dashboard clock discreetly, reading the time as seventeen minutes after noon. She pulled off her watch, which was still set to London time, and reset it to match the truck driver's clock. 
 
He put the big truck in gear and pulled off the shoulder, back onto the westbound side of the interstate. "Well, I cain't take ya that fur," he drawled, "but I kin git ya to Memphis by 'bout this time tamorra if'n ya stick with me. Or I kin git ya there faster if'n ya trust me ta send ya on with another driver."
 
She nodded. "I'd rather be there faster, if ye don't mind," she said slowly. "She's 'avin a baby, ye see, an' I wanna be there for 'er."
 
"Well, then, little miss, I'll be gettin' ya inta another truck 'fore too long. Meetin' up with a feller I'm acquent with in Knoxville an' I reckon he'll be all right fer ye ta ride with."
 
"Lovely," she replied, smiling. "Me name's Emily Beecham." She offered her hand to shake.
 
He took her hand in one of his huge paws and shook it. "Earl Miller," he told her. "Pleased ta meetcha, Miz Beecham."
 
"Just Emily," she assured him, grinning. "I ain't no titled lady, ye ken?"
 
He laughed uproariously, though it wasn't all that funny, and tuned the radio to a Hank Williams song as they rolled along towards Charlotte.
 
Just after 2:30 that afternoon, Earl pulled into a truck stop just outside of Charlotte, and shook Janna gently by the shoulder to wake her. She cameawake with a start into full battle mode, and he jumped back in surprise. "Calm down, Emily," he said, and she relaxed.
 
"Sorry," she mumbled. "Bit tense, I am."
 
He chuckled. "Don't blame ya a bit, Em," he told her, patting her shoulder. "I reckon I'd be tense too, in yer situation. Now, listen up, young'un." He reached behind his seat and pulled out a worn flannel jacket, which he handed to her. "You take thisyere coat, an' you wear it iffen ya git cold. Yer likely to, up in the mountains as yer goin'. I'm bout to put ya inthe truck with m'brother, Jack, an' ya kin trust him ta keep ya safe. He'll find ya another ride in Nashville, I reckon."
 
"I can't take your coat," she began to protest, but he waved her off.
 
"You'll take it, cuz you'll need it," he said firmly. "An' don't try to change m'mind. I got youngins older'n you back home, so I know how to deal with hardheaded kids. You git to yer sister's house, you kin send it back to me. M'name 'n address is on a paper in the inside pocket. Now, here comes Jack in that green truck over there. He knows you're a-comin', but I got to git on into town. So you be careful. Ya hear?"
 
She nodded. "I will be. Ye don' 'ave ta worry about me."
 
He studied her face for a moment. "No, I don't guess I do hafta worry, butI'll do it anyway on account of ya look just like m'sister's daughter whatgot snatched some years back. So you just let Earl know when ya git safe to yer sister's, hear?"
 
She nodded. "I promise." She grabbed the jacket and her carrysack and climbed down out of his truck. "Thanks, Earl!" She slammed the door shut and ran across the parking lot to the green truck which was idling nearby, its driver waiting for her. She climbed up the side of the truck, gave Earl an enthusiastic wave, and climbed into the truck with a slightly younger version of Earl. "'Ello, Jack," she greeted him as she swung into the seat."Thank ye for picking me up."
 
"Ain't nothin' to it, Emily," he responded. "Always glad ta he'p m'brother out. And he warn't lyin', neither. You do look just like our sister's daughter. Ain't that just a kicker. So you're from England, eh?" He put the truck in gear as he spoke, rolling out past Earl's with a wave, and climbed onto the Interstate heading west through Charlotte and towards the Tennessee line.
 
Se took an active interest in the conversation and the lovely scenery afterher nap in Earl's truck, and chatted amiably with him about her fictitiouslife in London and her sister in California. He in turn shared stories with her about his four children and Earl's six. The miles melted away beneath their tires as they rolled on, and before Janna even realized it, they had gone four hours and were rolling through Knoxville. Jack got on his CB and got in touch with a buddy who was rolling into Knoxville from the northand heading west, and was willing to carry Janna through to Memphis. Janna was deeply appreciative, as she felt that she could trust this man and his friends.
 
When they pulled into the truck stop on the west side of Knoxville, Jack's buddy was already waiting in a bright orange truck with no trailer. They met him halfway across the parking lot. "'Ere she is, Dick, Miss Emily Beecham, of the gre't city a' London, England," Earl introduced her with a grin. "Emily, thisyere's m'buddy Dick Hallorann, from south Alabama, an' one'a the finest bass fishermen ya could ever hope to meet."
 
She extended a hand to the burly black man and it was engulfed in his own return shake. "Pleased to meet you," he greeted her in what she thought wasa surprisingly cultured voice for someone from south Alabama.
 
"Likewise," she responded, grinning at him. "Thanks for pickin' me up."
 
Dick and Jack shook hands. "We'd better git," Dick said. "Gotta be in Memphis before midnight if I don't wanna deadhead all the way to Mobile."
 
"All right," Jack said, and turned to Emily. "Now, girl, lemme tell you somethin'. My brother bought yer story 'bout yer sister, but I know a runaway when I see one. I guess you do got somewhere you're runnin' to, since yer in sech a hurry, but you do something for Jack Miller while you're about findin' yer way. You keep an eye out and an ear to the ground fer any wordyou might hear of a girl looks jest like you do, a'ight? An' if you find her, you tell her she's missed an' we want her to come home."
 
Janna nodded. "I shall," she said firmly, dropping the Cockney and using her own accent, the one she'd developed after eight years of spending eighteen hours a day with her Oxford-educated Watcher. "I do have a sister," sheadded, thinking that perhaps there was really no better way to describe the kinship between Slayers, "but she hasn't any idea that I'm coming, and she shan't like the word I bring her when I get there. But she has to know and she has to know soon."
 
Jack nodded. "You take care."
 
The three of them parted, but suddenly Janna turned and shouted after him. "Jack!" When he turned, just before closing the door of his cab, she called out, "What name shall I ask for, when I search for your niece?"
 
"Janna Markham," he called back, then closed the door and started up his truck.
 
She watched him drive away, rooted to the spot in shock. Dick had to call her alias twice before he broke through her frozen brain enough to get her to scramble up into the truck and buckle in for the ride to Memphis.
---

~~Rainne
********
Buffy: I guess everyone's alone. But being a Slayer? There's a burden we can't share.
Faith: And no one else can feel it. Thank God we're hot chicks with superpowers.
Buffy: Takes the edge off.
Faith: Comforting.
--End of Days -- Buffy 7.21 --
*******