ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
11,841
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
11,841
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
FORCES GATHER
CHAPTER 133 - FORCES GATHER
OFFICES OF WOLFRAM & HART
LOS ANGELES
JULY 26, 2009
11:00PM
Lilah reached across the bed to answer the phone.
"Ms. Morgan? This is Aaron Hill, I'm the manager at the Balboa Park Starbucks..."
"You got them? You're sure? Good! Just hang onto them, and I'll have someone pick them up within the hour. Oh, and I'll make sure the boss knows about your excellent work, Aaron."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LOS ANGELES
JULY 27, 2009
SUNDAY
7:00AM
SUNDAY
“What’s up?” Knox asked, stifling down a yawn as he opened up the lab door to Lilah.
“This is what’s up,” she said, holding out a box. She’d gotten up the night before and had waited at the Wolfram & Hart loading dock in back of the building for the truck to arrive. When it had, she had personally signed for the cups, which had been picked up in San Diego.
He took off the lid loo looked at the four coffee cups, each one in a separate slot. “You got me out of bed to offer me Starbucks?” he asked, innocently.
“No, you idiot! It’s what’s in this coffee, or on the lids! It’s the DNA, which I need you to isolate and preserve.”
“Sure, no problem. You want to tell me why?” he asked, amiably.
“Do I ever?” she returned, throwing him a backward glance. “Just make sure you get it done today.”
“I can’t promise you that, it depends on some variables.”
“Such as?”
“Such as isolating the human DNA from the coffee’s DNA.”
Lilah looked at him, “Coffee’s DNA?”
“Well, coffee comes from beans, beans grow, all living things have DNA, therefore...”
“How long then?”
“Maybe three days, if I start right now.”
“Then you’d better start,” she said, “but if you get it done sooner, and correctly, I’ll see that you get a bonus.”
“I’ll try,” Knox said.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LOS ANGELES
JULY 29, 2009
TUESDAY
9:00AM
“Tell her to come in,” Angel said to his secretary, who had just let him know that Lilah was there to see him.
“Good morning, Angel,” she said, smiling as she walked in.
“What’s good about it?” he asked.
“How about this?” she said, handing him a folder. It contained a tape of William and Buffy at the Balboa Park Starbucks, and also the report from Knox that he’d been able to isolate and preserve four distinct traces of DNA. And about a dozen or more, not so distinct.
Angel looked up at Lilah, “Why so many?”
“Well, Knox conjectures that some of the not distinct ones might come from the employees themselves, as they put their hands on the lids to close them, others from factory workers as they put together the products. Everyone leaves DNA tracers.”
“Shouldn’t workers be wearing plastic gloves or something? Make a note t, ft, from now on, everyone that has anything to do with Starbucks, uses gloves.”
“Angel, Knox assures me that there are at least four very strong ones. And those came from saliva traces. I’m sure that your William and Buffy are included in those, and the other two, her sister Dawn and boyfriend.”
“He’s sure?”
Lilah nodded.
“Very well, he’d better be. Second thing; were you able to locate the most important participant in our little scheme?”
Lilah nodded, “He’s in a federal prison in Texas, high security; think it used to be run by the initiative, but there’s been a turnover since they’re not officially an organization anymore.”
“So, what are you telling me, then?”
“I’m telling you that it shouldn’t be that hard to break him out, not with the schmucks who took over the inititative’s posts. We already positioned someone on the inside, when you first told me about him.”
Angel nodded, “Good, then lets do this and get him to Los Angeles as soon as possible. Make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
Lilah started to walk out, “Oh, and send for Dru, too.”
“Where do you want her, once she’s here?”
“There’s some holding cells in the basement, which ought to work just fine; completely concrete, but with amenities. I just want to make sure that everything and everyone is here and ready, as soon as it’s a go.”
“Aren’t you worried about doing this right under the Senior Partner’s noses?”
“No, I think we came to an understanding a long time ago. As long as I’m not working against their interests, they don’t mind if I take a little time and resources on my own personal projects.”
“Very well, Angel.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AMARILLO, TEXAS
WORTH FEDERAL PRISON
THURSDAY
JULY 31, 2009
7:00PM
Prisoner 5382-94 sat on the side of his cot in his windowless 6’ x 8’ cell, reading the latest pulp fiction novel, which had come by on the library cart that day. Only once here at Worth, had he been able to find a book, which although looked to be a pulp fiction, actually had quite a few caster’s spells and factoids about magic. But most the time, it was the same old 20 or so books, that he and the other 2 dozen or so maximum security prisoners had to choose from. This book, ‘The Maiden from Glouchester,’ he’d already read probably 10 times, since he’d been incarcerated here for the past half dozen years.
Before that, for two and a half years, he’d been in a prison in California, which he was sure he would’ve eventually been able to escape from. At the very least, their library was infinitely better. He’d been able to request all sorts of books which a chaos worshipper like himself could find handy, usually under the guise of a romance novel, but with spells hidden within the verses; if one knew how to find them.
But all that changed with his being moved to this prison in the middle of nowhere.
The days and nights were endlessly the same. He was only allowed out once a day, for 50 minutes, and then by himself. Most of the prison guards didn’t talk much to him at all, only stopping to give him his trays of food, or to pick them up again, half an hour later. He was only allowed a spork in which to eat his meals with, and that had to be accounted for, as did everything else on his plate.
The only thing that had changed in his barren landscape for the past year at all, had been a new guard, who had started a couple of weeks ago.
The man’s badge read Win Bigg. The prisoner had to smile at that.
“It’s short for Winston,” the man told him, “parents used to be tobacco farmers.”
“Interesting,” prisoner 5382-94 replied.
That evening when he delivered his tray at 6:00PM, there was something underneath it.
“Put this on at 9:00pm, sharp. No questions now!” Win told him.
Prisoner 5382-94 looked at him quizzically, then slowly lifted up the tray.
Now Win had returned for the tray. He only nodded to the prisoner, but made no eye contact or further comment.
At 8:00pm sharp, the lights went out for the evening, and the semi-nightlights came on; which were still fairly bright. At least his cot wasn’t directly underneath one. He closed the book and lay down on his pillow, underneath which lay a type of mask, which had been laid flat under the tray. He turned over towards the wall and tried to examine it. It was very thin, but he thought he could feel a filter of some sort, over the mouth and nose.
Laying there, counting the minutes off in his head, he finally got to 8:59:45, reached under his pillow and put the mask on. He lay there, his hands underneath his head and waited for whatever was going to happen to start. Approximately 20 seconds later, he heard a thud, then another, followed by another still. He rose up, and looked out, surprised to see a small group of heavily armed men, all coming towards his cell. They looked at him; Win nodded to them, then took out the keys and opened the door.
“Ethan Rayne?”
The prisoner nodded.
“I’ve been authorized to offer you a job, the details, and for whom you will be working with will be forthcoming, but which are suited to your particular skills. If you accept, after successful completion, we will supply you with false identity papers and you can go anywhere you’d like.”
“And if I refuse?” Ethan Rayne asked.
“If you refuse, our orders are that you are to be terminated. Now, what say you?”
Ethan smiled under his mask, “I’d say the first offer is more than generous in it’s terms. I accept.”
“Good, let’s go then,” the man said, handcuffing Ethan to himself and heading towards the guard’s door. Again, Win opened the door and let them through. Ethan looked around and saw that here and there, guards lay with their heads on their desks, obviously passed out.
“Did you disable the security cameras and get the video feed?” The man who had talked to Ethan asked a subordinate.
The man nodded, and pulled two tapes out of his pocket to show the guard.
“Good.”
Win led them out into the courtyard, where prisoners not in isolation were allowed to mingle. It was only slightly larger than his courtyard, but at least it had a basketball hoop and some grass. He ducked his head, as he heard a sound from above.
“It’s our helicopter. Relax, man. You ought to be glad this is our stealth helicopter.”
Ethan took a couple of deep breaths to calm his sensory deprived nerves. Sure enough, when he looked up, he could barely see the black monstrosity landing.
The helicopter landed and Ethan, the four guards, presumable from Wolfram & Hart, and Win Bigg got onboard.
About 10 minutes later, they landed at a small airfield outside of Amarillo, and boarded a private, corporate jet.
“How about undoing these handcuffs now?” Ethan asked, once they’d taken off.
“Sorry, nothing doing. I was told that you’re to be under constant supervision, including this.
“What am I going to do? Disarm all 5 of you, then fly the plane myself?” Ethan laughed.
“Doesn’t matter,” the guard said, “we also have orders to gag you.”
“Oh, I do say, that’s terribly...” a gag was place in his mouth, and his other hand, then cuffed to guard number two, as guard number one got up to use the plane’s bathroom.
Ethan struggled until finally, the second guard tore off the gag.
“What?”
“What if I have to go to the bathroom?” Ethan asked.
“Then you either go in your pants or we hold it for you. So, do you have to go right now?”
Ethan scowled and shook his head.
“Good,” the guard said, and replaced the gag.
END CHAPTER 133
OFFICES OF WOLFRAM & HART
LOS ANGELES
JULY 26, 2009
11:00PM
Lilah reached across the bed to answer the phone.
"Ms. Morgan? This is Aaron Hill, I'm the manager at the Balboa Park Starbucks..."
"You got them? You're sure? Good! Just hang onto them, and I'll have someone pick them up within the hour. Oh, and I'll make sure the boss knows about your excellent work, Aaron."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LOS ANGELES
JULY 27, 2009
SUNDAY
7:00AM
SUNDAY
“What’s up?” Knox asked, stifling down a yawn as he opened up the lab door to Lilah.
“This is what’s up,” she said, holding out a box. She’d gotten up the night before and had waited at the Wolfram & Hart loading dock in back of the building for the truck to arrive. When it had, she had personally signed for the cups, which had been picked up in San Diego.
He took off the lid loo looked at the four coffee cups, each one in a separate slot. “You got me out of bed to offer me Starbucks?” he asked, innocently.
“No, you idiot! It’s what’s in this coffee, or on the lids! It’s the DNA, which I need you to isolate and preserve.”
“Sure, no problem. You want to tell me why?” he asked, amiably.
“Do I ever?” she returned, throwing him a backward glance. “Just make sure you get it done today.”
“I can’t promise you that, it depends on some variables.”
“Such as?”
“Such as isolating the human DNA from the coffee’s DNA.”
Lilah looked at him, “Coffee’s DNA?”
“Well, coffee comes from beans, beans grow, all living things have DNA, therefore...”
“How long then?”
“Maybe three days, if I start right now.”
“Then you’d better start,” she said, “but if you get it done sooner, and correctly, I’ll see that you get a bonus.”
“I’ll try,” Knox said.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LOS ANGELES
JULY 29, 2009
TUESDAY
9:00AM
“Tell her to come in,” Angel said to his secretary, who had just let him know that Lilah was there to see him.
“Good morning, Angel,” she said, smiling as she walked in.
“What’s good about it?” he asked.
“How about this?” she said, handing him a folder. It contained a tape of William and Buffy at the Balboa Park Starbucks, and also the report from Knox that he’d been able to isolate and preserve four distinct traces of DNA. And about a dozen or more, not so distinct.
Angel looked up at Lilah, “Why so many?”
“Well, Knox conjectures that some of the not distinct ones might come from the employees themselves, as they put their hands on the lids to close them, others from factory workers as they put together the products. Everyone leaves DNA tracers.”
“Shouldn’t workers be wearing plastic gloves or something? Make a note t, ft, from now on, everyone that has anything to do with Starbucks, uses gloves.”
“Angel, Knox assures me that there are at least four very strong ones. And those came from saliva traces. I’m sure that your William and Buffy are included in those, and the other two, her sister Dawn and boyfriend.”
“He’s sure?”
Lilah nodded.
“Very well, he’d better be. Second thing; were you able to locate the most important participant in our little scheme?”
Lilah nodded, “He’s in a federal prison in Texas, high security; think it used to be run by the initiative, but there’s been a turnover since they’re not officially an organization anymore.”
“So, what are you telling me, then?”
“I’m telling you that it shouldn’t be that hard to break him out, not with the schmucks who took over the inititative’s posts. We already positioned someone on the inside, when you first told me about him.”
Angel nodded, “Good, then lets do this and get him to Los Angeles as soon as possible. Make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
Lilah started to walk out, “Oh, and send for Dru, too.”
“Where do you want her, once she’s here?”
“There’s some holding cells in the basement, which ought to work just fine; completely concrete, but with amenities. I just want to make sure that everything and everyone is here and ready, as soon as it’s a go.”
“Aren’t you worried about doing this right under the Senior Partner’s noses?”
“No, I think we came to an understanding a long time ago. As long as I’m not working against their interests, they don’t mind if I take a little time and resources on my own personal projects.”
“Very well, Angel.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AMARILLO, TEXAS
WORTH FEDERAL PRISON
THURSDAY
JULY 31, 2009
7:00PM
Prisoner 5382-94 sat on the side of his cot in his windowless 6’ x 8’ cell, reading the latest pulp fiction novel, which had come by on the library cart that day. Only once here at Worth, had he been able to find a book, which although looked to be a pulp fiction, actually had quite a few caster’s spells and factoids about magic. But most the time, it was the same old 20 or so books, that he and the other 2 dozen or so maximum security prisoners had to choose from. This book, ‘The Maiden from Glouchester,’ he’d already read probably 10 times, since he’d been incarcerated here for the past half dozen years.
Before that, for two and a half years, he’d been in a prison in California, which he was sure he would’ve eventually been able to escape from. At the very least, their library was infinitely better. He’d been able to request all sorts of books which a chaos worshipper like himself could find handy, usually under the guise of a romance novel, but with spells hidden within the verses; if one knew how to find them.
But all that changed with his being moved to this prison in the middle of nowhere.
The days and nights were endlessly the same. He was only allowed out once a day, for 50 minutes, and then by himself. Most of the prison guards didn’t talk much to him at all, only stopping to give him his trays of food, or to pick them up again, half an hour later. He was only allowed a spork in which to eat his meals with, and that had to be accounted for, as did everything else on his plate.
The only thing that had changed in his barren landscape for the past year at all, had been a new guard, who had started a couple of weeks ago.
The man’s badge read Win Bigg. The prisoner had to smile at that.
“It’s short for Winston,” the man told him, “parents used to be tobacco farmers.”
“Interesting,” prisoner 5382-94 replied.
That evening when he delivered his tray at 6:00PM, there was something underneath it.
“Put this on at 9:00pm, sharp. No questions now!” Win told him.
Prisoner 5382-94 looked at him quizzically, then slowly lifted up the tray.
Now Win had returned for the tray. He only nodded to the prisoner, but made no eye contact or further comment.
At 8:00pm sharp, the lights went out for the evening, and the semi-nightlights came on; which were still fairly bright. At least his cot wasn’t directly underneath one. He closed the book and lay down on his pillow, underneath which lay a type of mask, which had been laid flat under the tray. He turned over towards the wall and tried to examine it. It was very thin, but he thought he could feel a filter of some sort, over the mouth and nose.
Laying there, counting the minutes off in his head, he finally got to 8:59:45, reached under his pillow and put the mask on. He lay there, his hands underneath his head and waited for whatever was going to happen to start. Approximately 20 seconds later, he heard a thud, then another, followed by another still. He rose up, and looked out, surprised to see a small group of heavily armed men, all coming towards his cell. They looked at him; Win nodded to them, then took out the keys and opened the door.
“Ethan Rayne?”
The prisoner nodded.
“I’ve been authorized to offer you a job, the details, and for whom you will be working with will be forthcoming, but which are suited to your particular skills. If you accept, after successful completion, we will supply you with false identity papers and you can go anywhere you’d like.”
“And if I refuse?” Ethan Rayne asked.
“If you refuse, our orders are that you are to be terminated. Now, what say you?”
Ethan smiled under his mask, “I’d say the first offer is more than generous in it’s terms. I accept.”
“Good, let’s go then,” the man said, handcuffing Ethan to himself and heading towards the guard’s door. Again, Win opened the door and let them through. Ethan looked around and saw that here and there, guards lay with their heads on their desks, obviously passed out.
“Did you disable the security cameras and get the video feed?” The man who had talked to Ethan asked a subordinate.
The man nodded, and pulled two tapes out of his pocket to show the guard.
“Good.”
Win led them out into the courtyard, where prisoners not in isolation were allowed to mingle. It was only slightly larger than his courtyard, but at least it had a basketball hoop and some grass. He ducked his head, as he heard a sound from above.
“It’s our helicopter. Relax, man. You ought to be glad this is our stealth helicopter.”
Ethan took a couple of deep breaths to calm his sensory deprived nerves. Sure enough, when he looked up, he could barely see the black monstrosity landing.
The helicopter landed and Ethan, the four guards, presumable from Wolfram & Hart, and Win Bigg got onboard.
About 10 minutes later, they landed at a small airfield outside of Amarillo, and boarded a private, corporate jet.
“How about undoing these handcuffs now?” Ethan asked, once they’d taken off.
“Sorry, nothing doing. I was told that you’re to be under constant supervision, including this.
“What am I going to do? Disarm all 5 of you, then fly the plane myself?” Ethan laughed.
“Doesn’t matter,” the guard said, “we also have orders to gag you.”
“Oh, I do say, that’s terribly...” a gag was place in his mouth, and his other hand, then cuffed to guard number two, as guard number one got up to use the plane’s bathroom.
Ethan struggled until finally, the second guard tore off the gag.
“What?”
“What if I have to go to the bathroom?” Ethan asked.
“Then you either go in your pants or we hold it for you. So, do you have to go right now?”
Ethan scowled and shook his head.
“Good,” the guard said, and replaced the gag.
END CHAPTER 133