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My Immortal. Chapter 4
Since I'm going away on holiday on Friday, you get this now. I could keep tweaking it I suppose, but my dear beta, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathyh, says that it reads well enough, so I'll trust her judgment! Previous parts here. Oh and feedback will be treasured more than a nekkid Spike! :)
Title: My Immortal
Pairing: Buffy/Jack.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: S2 of Torchwood.
Genre: Crossover. (BtVS/Torchwood)
Word count: 4400 words approx.
Setting: Spring 2004.
Chapter 4
Jack: I have died so many times. Been dragged back into life, like being hauled over broken glass.
~
Buffy: Everything here is... hard, and bright, and violent. Everything I feel, everything I touch... this is Hell. Just getting through the next moment, and the one after that... knowing what I've lost...
Sunday 4th April, 5.15 am
Buffy didn’t relish being woken by the phone - especially not when it was still dark outside. Head fuzzy with sleep she finally managed to switch on the light and answer the increasingly insistent bleeping.
“Bella?” she asked, having glanced at the phone as she picked it up, and then had an earful of semi-broken English that she slowly managed to unravel.
Bella - very recently called Slayer, who’d only just been granted lone patrol status - had in her zealousness checked every demon bar in her entire district, and overheard some weirdly dressed demons discuss what might be a ritual sacrifice. She’d followed them until they got in a car and drove off, leaving her stranded - so she’d called Buffy.
“OK...” Buffy replied, head slowly clearing, “but where did they go?”
Bella, who was a very conscientious and studious girl, explained that she recognised the symbols on the demons’ robes, and maybe if they called Mr Wells he’d be able to do a locator spell of some sort?
Groaning at the ‘Mr Wells’ Buffy had to concede that this was a good idea.
“Listen - you call Andrew and tell him everything you just told me, and I’ll get to you and we’ll go deal with this together, OK?”
Bella’s relief was obvious, and, after getting her location, Buffy said goodbye. Grumbling under her breath about the unsociable hours that demons kept, she pulled on some jeans, a warm top and her most sensible boots, before gathering her hair in a ponytail and choosing a coat. Quickly she scribbled a note for Dawn, then grabbed the Scythe, her helmet and keys.
As always she smiled when she saw her pale blue moped - Rome was huge, and it was quite simply not possible to run everywhere the way she had in Sunnydale. The moped was the perfect solution - and also far cuter and smaller than a car.
The cool pre-dawn air woke her very effectively, and she only got lost once which was probably a new record. Feeling happy and alert she grinned to Bella as she drew up beside her, and soon they were on their way to their destination. Buffy would have to remember to tell Andrew thanks - he was good at his job when he didn’t get distracted.
Parking the moped a little way off they silently tiptoed towards the warehouse (why always empty warehouses, she wondered) and quickly found a side door. Putting her hand on it, she realised that it was slightly ajar. Either these were some of the sloppiest demons she’d ever come across, or something was up... then she heard a voice, and, frowning, gently pushed the door open.
The sight that greeted her made her gasp. In the middle of the mostly empty room - beside an altar covered in a dark cloth and cluttered with candles, mystical artifacts and a large knife - stood The Immortal, looking impossibly rakish in what was apparently his standard outfit of black trousers and white shirt, although this time the sleeves were rolled up. He had his hand around the neck of a corpulent spotted demon, and a gun aimed at a group of horned, thuggish red-skinned demons, fitting the description Bella had given.
“That’s it,” he said, voice low and dangerous as the red demons slowly lined up against the wall. “You try to move as much as an inch and I blow you to pieces!”
Then he turned his head as her boots scraped on the floor, and his face suddenly lit up. “Buffy - excellent! I was just wondering whether I had to call for back-up.”
She blinked. “I’m back-up?”
He grinned at her, and then tightened the grip on the demon in his hand, who had attempted to speak.
“You don’t get to talk, creep! Although you would be able to confirm that this was my town first. But seriously - Buffy, do you think you could take care of...”
He nodded towards a dark corner, and Buffy suddenly realised that there was a sniffling sound. She and Bella ran across the floor and saw a young girl - maybe 7 or 8 years old - dressed up in some ceremonial robe and chained to the wall. Quelling her sudden bright fury and disgust Buffy quickly broke the chains, before helping the girl up. Bella began comforting her, the torrent of Italian too fast for Buffy to follow, but the girl gratefully clung to the other Slayer. Thinking fast, Buffy caught Bella’s attention.
“Can you ride a moped?”
“Si, si, of course, but I am too young...”
“Doesn’t matter. Only two can fit on, and as you know my Italian is... not so much.” She dug out her keys. “Here - take her back to Slayer headquarters, get Andrew to find out where she lives etcetera. I’ll stay here - I’m sure The Immortal could use a hand.”
Bella nodded and quickly escorted the girl out. Buffy followed them with her eyes, then looked up and saw The Immortal smiling at her grimly.
“Thank you. I hate it when children are involved.” The vehemence in his voice was so sharp, that without asking she knew that this was a personal matter to him.
One of the demons used the momentary distraction to make a run for it, but The Immortal’s head swivelled and without hesitation he fired. The bullet caught the creature in the back, and it collapsed screaming.
“I said don’t move!” he repeated, scanning the four demons still left. His eyes were cold and angry, and he looked... old. It was a look she knew far too well, and something clutched at her heart. Slowly he turned his gaze on the demon still grasped in his left hand, the sneer on his face deepening.
“And as for you...” He looked the demon over, and slowly shook his head. “If your grandfather could see you now, he would spin in his mausoleum. To think that he once thought you might amount to something... Instead you’ve dragged your family name through the mud in ways he - thankfully - couldn’t have imagined!”
The demon tried speaking, but The Immortal wasn’t finished. “You know what the joke is? This was supposed to be my holiday - a little time off. No death and blood and pain and all the usual fucked-up mess. And then I get a phonecall, informing me that the grand-spawn of one of my oldest friends is about to have himself a little human sacrifice! And for what? To get money to pay back the loansharks, because he squandered the family fortune. Trust me, you have no idea the amount of pain I want to inflict on you!”
The demon rasped something that sounded like “loyrrrrs...” and The Immortal suddenly laughed joylessly and released his grip, causing the demon to collapse on the floor, gasping for air.
“Oh I know who your lawyers are, but they’re not the reason I’m going to let you go.”
Buffy looked at him sharply. He was going to let the creep go?
Smiling a smile as predatory as any she’d seen on a vampire, The Immortal looked down on the creature at his feet.
“You have no money, and therefore your lawyers couldn’t care less what happens to you. Gotta love Wolfram & Hart! And, if my source is correct, your loanshark is going to crucify you - possibly literally. Would ask for a ringside seat if I had the time.”
Taking a deep breath he lifted his face and cast a withering glance over the remaining demons by the wall. “You can leave. If I ever see you in this town again you’ll share your friend’s fate, understood?”
The demons nodded and scrambled for the exit as fast as their legs could carry them. With one last disgusted look The Immortal turned his back on the demon still on the floor and put away his gun, catching Buffy’s eyes as he did so.
“Have I mentioned how much I hate magic?” He shuddered. “And although it is very nice to see you again I wish it’d been under different circumstances. Despite your job description I can’t help thinking that less violence and more flowers-and-chocolate is the way to go.”
She stared at him silently. She’d spent most of Saturday turning the situation over in her head, trying to work out whether to call him or not - re-reading all the info Andrew had dug up, before he’d read The Immortal’s book and turned into a born-again worshipping moron. Because despite the fun and the charm - and the glimpses of a far different man beneath the facade - there were stories that told of something far darker. Looking at him now she could suddenly see the origin of these stories, and there was no doubting his ruthlessness. But... despite their somewhat differing methods they seemed to be on the same side.
Her head busy trying to sort through all this new information, she noticed the movement too late. She called out, but the demon had already grabbed the knife from the altar, face twisted with fury, and in a single, too-fast-to-follow motion he had stabbed it through The Immortal’s back.
As the blade came through his chest he looked down, face distorting in pain.
“Oh crap!”
Briefly he caught her eyes - torment and alarm staring back at her - and then he collapsed on the floor, revealing the demon behind him, hand still clutching the now-bloody knife.
Buffy reacted without thinking, and before the other had time to move the Scythe sliced through its neck. Then she fell to her knees beside The Immortal, turning him over on his back, desperately looking to see how bad the damage was - and realised that it was much too late.
His eyes were open and empty, his shirt soaked in blood. Swiftly she undid the buttons, but seeing the wound it was clear that the blade had gone straight through his heart. Almost choking she sat back on her heels, trying to understand what had happened. Wasn’t the whole point of being immortal that he couldn’t die? She remembered fighting Spike when he had the Gem of Armarra, how he had laughed off fatal injuries... so how? Was this what he’d meant when he’d told her that she’d not been completely wrong? Although vampires were immortal until killed...
Swallowing against the lump in her throat she wondered if maybe she was cursed - anyone coming into contact with her was doomed to badness and a horrible death? He’d been... he’d been so full of life, so - vibrant. Despite being deeply conflicted about him, she was sure that the world was a worse place without him.
Slowly she reached out to close his eyes, grateful that at least she could do that much - having a body to bury was a luxury.
Then abruptly he gasped, flailing hands reaching up and grabbing her arm.
She almost cried out in alarm; but, as she looked into his eyes, two-and-a-half years suddenly crumbled into nothing.
Momentary pure wild terror - vertigo at life itself. Sudden rush of air into the lungs, desperate attempts at orientation...
It couldn’t be...
Then his face contorted in agony, his fingers digging into her arms, before he laughed unsteadily... and the wound closed itself before her widening eyes.
“Christ I hate being stabbed through the chest! All that blood, and my clothes get ruined every time.”
He tried to sit up and she helped stabilise him, turning him so he could lean against the altar.
“Where did-” he waved an unsteady hand, and she nodded towards the body on the floor next to him.
“I decapitated him,” she answered, and a wide grin broke out on The Immortal’s face. “I should have started hanging out with Slayers a long time ago - most people just freak out over the death thing and when I wake up things are even worse than before.”
She looked at him, not meeting his smile, and unable to stop herself reached out and touched his chest - perfectly perfect again, as if never marred. “Is... is that how it works?”
Sombre again, he nodded. “That’s how it works.” She could almost touch the pain in his eyes, and taking a slow, deep breath she finally asked: “Do you lose it every time?”
He frowned, studying her unsurely. “Lose what?”
“Heaven.” Incredible that the word was still so hard to say.
For a moment he just stared at her, the pain on his face as sudden and acute as if she’d slapped him, then he looked away. “Sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no sitting around on clouds playing the harp. There’s just... nothing.”
Bewildered she shook her head. “But there is a heaven. I know, because I went there.”
This got his attention. “You... what?”
“I died, this one time. OK, I’ve died twice, but the second time was a lot more permanent - I was dead for like five months and... I think I was in heaven. I don’t know what else to call it... No clouds or anything like that, but I was... happy. Completely.”
He stared at her silently for a long while, and she couldn’t begin to guess at what thoughts passed through his head. Finally he asked, “But how - how did you come back to life?”
“My friends did a spell. The world needed a Slayer - and they missed me - so they brought me back.” It was less painful to remember now, and yet... “They didn’t really think it through. I... woke up in my coffin.”
She saw the dawning horror on his face as he took in the implications. “Oh my god... That’s... I’ve never done that. I mean I’ve been buried plenty of times - collapsing houses, and trenches, an avalanche once... but at least I was prepared for it, more or less.”
He hesitated for a moment, the slowly asked: “How did you cope - with being back?”
She smiled a little as she shook her head. “I didn’t. Well I was quite good at keeping up a front, but it was so, so hard to keep going, and I did some... very self-destructive things. For a long time I just wanted to die again. I didn’t... I didn’t understand why I was alive. When I died I - I was ready for it. My life to save the world; seemed a good trade. And that was supposed to be it...”
The Immortal was staring at her, like he’d never seen her before. “I never - I never thought anyone else...” he swallowed, then suddenly looked around at the dirty bloody space they were sitting in, the early morning sun now falling through grimy windows.
“Let’s get out of here. You wanna come back to my place? Best breakfast in town.”
She nodded readily and gave him a hand up. He seemed more steady on his feet now, studying the dead body on the floor.
“I think I’ll just quietly let his family know where he is, and they can do what they want - unless it’ll interfere with your clean-up operation?”
She blinked. “My what?”
“Clean-up. You don’t have a team of some sort for getting rid of bodies?”
Mutely she shook her head, and he looked surprised, but then shrugged. “Anyway - thank you for offing him. Couldn’t do myself, being a family friend and all that. To be honest they might even be pleased that he was killed by a Slayer - backwards demon logic and all that.”
He shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his face, before changing the subject. “Come on, my car’s parked round the back.”
She nodded and, after picking up the Scythe, fell into step with him as they walked across the half-empty space, tall craters looming in the corners, but after a short moment he shot her a sideways glance.
“Sorry about prying - and do tell me to go to hell if I’m overstepping some boundaries - but how did you die the first time? I mean... it’s not a question I’ve ever been able to ask before.”
“Vampire,” she replied, and to her surprise a wide grin broke out on his face.
“Really? My best death ever was by vampire. Or vampires, rather. Sure it hurts like hell when they first bite, but my god the pay-off is worth it. Threesome of the century, definitely. Possibly of the millennium. ”
She was staring at him, wide-eyed, desperately telling herself, over and over, ‘Don’t think about Angel, don’t think about Angel, don’t think about Angel...’
Then his voice trailed off, and he studied her, puzzled.
“Wait - how did you come back from that?”
Doing her best to appear calm, she kept her eyes fixed on the door they were now nearing. “He only took a bite and then drowned me. One of my friends brought me back with CPR.”
“Oh.” He pulled a sympathetic face. “Drowning sucks! Seriously unpleasant way to die - all that water in your lungs...”
“Ruined my Prom dress too,” she cut in, relishing the opportunity to just be able to talk, without worrying about being thought a freak. They’d reached the door, but instead of opening it he stopped and turned to her, eyes widening.
“Your Prom dress? How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
Slowly he shook his head, an expression she couldn’t read crossing his face.
“Of course, Slayers are called young... like that one you brought with you.” His eyes grew distant. “Too young - too young by far to fight. You can’t come back from that.”
She studied him silently, wondering what lay behind his words. He was old, no doubt about it, so did he see youngsters as epitomes of innocence? But then he slowly continued.
“I ran away from home to join the army when I was around that age. Talked my best friend into coming with me. It was supposed to be an adventure, a chance to pay back the bastards who-”
He stopped himself abruptly, but she could guess at what had happened. She’d not thought about the fact that he might have been a child once, not really given much thought to who he was, only focussing on what. It struck her as very shallow all of a sudden. Silently she wondered what had happened to his home - or his family. Because there was a tragedy there, she'd bet her life on it.
Taking a deep, slow breath, he whispered, “He didn’t make it back...”
Instinctively she reached out and took his hand, and he clasped it gratefully, searching her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I don’t normally do this at all - and I never do it here. But then I’ve never met someone quite like you before!”
She smiled back lopsidedly. “Definitely ditto.”
They held each other’s eyes for a long moment, something indefinable being settled without words.
Slowly he nodded. “Guess we could both do with a friend... But let’s get a move-on, there’s freshly made pastries waiting for us! Or there will be, as soon as I give Francesca a call.”
Pulling out his cellphone he shot her a dazzling smile, and then opened the door, the sudden brightness of sun and smile almost overwhelming.
***
Buffy rapidly decided that café breakfasts were a very poor and second-rate way of starting the day, compared to breakfasts served in The Immortal’s garden.
It was like something out of a Merchant Ivory film - a genre she was now very familiar with thanks to Dawn and Andrew’s Anglophilia - and she half-expected some prim English couple to arrive, apologising for their lateness and complaining about the dreadful heat of the Italian climate.
The drive back had been uneventful, the conversation easy and touching on a wide variety of unimportant subjects, but as she drained her coffee cup Buffy eyed up the man across from her. He was once more immaculately dressed in a bright white shirt - the only hint of the morning’s actions his hair which was still a little ruffled, if in a very dashing way. She dearly wished she’d chosen a more flattering outfit herself, but it was too late now - and he didn’t seem to mind in the least. So she tilted her head, determined to get an answer - because she was more curious than ever.
“Earlier...”
“Hm?” he replied, blue eyes smiling back.
“You said... that this was holiday. Away from... bad things...”
He carefully put down the cup he was holding and momentarily lowered his eyes.
“Ah. Now that’s the problem with liking smart people... although I’d probably have told you anyway. What with you being you.”
She leaned forward, trying to ignore the warm fuzzy feelings that his words invoked. “It has to do with the ‘I wasn’t wrong’ thing, yes?”
He shot her a sly, rather smug, look. “That worked, did it?”
She nodded impatiently. “What did you mean?”
He sat still for a moment, then caught her eyes. “How would you describe this place? Fairytale? Too good to be true?”
She looked around at the idyllic surroundings, the immaculate lawn and the spring flowers wafting in the early morning breeze, and nodded again. A shrewd look in his eyes, he rested his chin on folded up hands. “It is that way because I made it that way. Let me think of a way to describe it in 21st Century language...” His eyes narrowed. “Essentially it’s a centuries-long carefully controlled exercise in image management.”
“A what now?”
He grinned at her, leaning forward into her personal space - the table was quite small, and she had a feeling it was so on purpose. “As I said, it’s all real, but the whole... aura is carefully tailored. What’s a good example? Oh yes - tell people that you’ve spent a long time in Tibet, and they will presume you’re a spiritual sort of person. I’ve never claimed to be spiritual - because quite frankly that would be preposterous - but I still have that reputation, and it does wonders for my influence! If you can control the initial input, moulding the result is easy.”
She nodded slowly, beginning to see the possibilities. “Like... two movie stars being snapped by the paparazzi, and suddenly everyone thinks they’re a couple.”
He laughed. “Exactly! And the best thing? It works in reverse too. Someone sceptical trying to ‘find the truth’ will discover mostly hear-say and rumours and dismiss the whole thing without realising the kernel of truth hidden at the center. It’s simple when you know how.”
“That’s very clever,” she said slowly, turning it over in her head, wondering if there was any way she could use this in the way all the new Slayers saw her. He grinned. “It is, isn’t it? A perfectly perfect little slice of fairy tale made real.”
But then she again remembered what he’d said, and frowned. “But why? You said it was a holiday...”
“That is the best description, yes.”
“So... you have a different life somewhere else?”
He nodded slowly. “Yup. Mr double-life, that’s me.” He stopped for a moment, eyes darkening. “Triple, actually.”
“So...” she looked at him expectantly, and his eyebrows rose in almost comical fashion.
“Oh I’m not telling you about my other identities! To be honest, I’ve never actually told anyone that I have a different life - although some guessed, I’m sure - so you’re a huge exception already.”
She watched him incredulously, as he leaned back in his chair, smiling.
“So... that’s it? That’s all I’m getting?”
“That’s it. First of all, my other life is all very secret, and second...” he hesitated momentarily, “I come here to get away from it. I’m trying to pretend it doesn’t exist. Trust me, you don’t want to know. Also, it’s dangerous - even for you.”
There was no laughter in his eyes anymore and she tilted her head. “You’re really not going to tell me?”
“No. I...” the smile and the charm suddenly reappeared with a vengeance, “I thought that maybe you’d like to join me in my little fairy tale? See I could be Prince Charming, you could be Princess Buffy, and we could pretend that every story has a happily ever after, that the good guys never do terrible things and the bad guys are never cute, that people never die or leave us behind, that we never have make to impossible choices...”
She suddenly swallowed, but didn’t look away. Somehow - and the serendipity of the situation was almost impossible - this man understood her; her life, her pain, her fears. It was far, far different from anything she’d ever experienced, and not at all what she’d expected from this unlikeliest of corners.
He chuckled a little, adding, “Of course, since this is a 21st Century fairy tale, the prince and princess both have busy lives and careers. But I figure we could have a lot of fun together nonetheless. What do you say?”
And there was that twinkle in his eyes again. She knew that if she didn’t get out instantly she’d probably be unable to deny him anything... and really, was there any reason at all for getting out?
But before she could reply, her phone began ringing.
It turned out to be Dawn, wondering just how long it could take to stop one measly little sacrifice, and being rather grumpy because Sundays were sister-bonding days, but if Buffy had somewhere else she’d rather be, then fine, it wasn’t like Dawn had cancelled a really hot date for Buffy’s sake or anything!
Buffy looked apologetically at The Immortal when she’d hung up.
“I’m gonna have to run...”
He held up his hands, an easy smile on his lips. “No worries. But if you’re up for some fun just call - anytime. My schedule is... flexible. As am I.”
He winked, and she couldn’t help but smile back.
It wasn’t a date. It was - it was more like having that (male) gay best friend she’d been imagining. Except he wasn’t gay...
“I’ll call. As soon as I know when I have some time. Tomorrow night might be free...”
She got up, holding out her hand and he took it - grinning widely.
“Trust me. We’ll be spectacular!”
And she didn’t doubt him at all.
Chapter 5
kathyh, says that it reads well enough, so I'll trust her judgment! Previous parts here. Oh and feedback will be treasured more than a nekkid Spike! :)Title: My Immortal
Pairing: Buffy/Jack.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: S2 of Torchwood.
Genre: Crossover. (BtVS/Torchwood)
Word count: 4400 words approx.
Setting: Spring 2004.
Chapter 4
Jack: I have died so many times. Been dragged back into life, like being hauled over broken glass.
~
Buffy: Everything here is... hard, and bright, and violent. Everything I feel, everything I touch... this is Hell. Just getting through the next moment, and the one after that... knowing what I've lost...
Sunday 4th April, 5.15 am
Buffy didn’t relish being woken by the phone - especially not when it was still dark outside. Head fuzzy with sleep she finally managed to switch on the light and answer the increasingly insistent bleeping.
“Bella?” she asked, having glanced at the phone as she picked it up, and then had an earful of semi-broken English that she slowly managed to unravel.
Bella - very recently called Slayer, who’d only just been granted lone patrol status - had in her zealousness checked every demon bar in her entire district, and overheard some weirdly dressed demons discuss what might be a ritual sacrifice. She’d followed them until they got in a car and drove off, leaving her stranded - so she’d called Buffy.
“OK...” Buffy replied, head slowly clearing, “but where did they go?”
Bella, who was a very conscientious and studious girl, explained that she recognised the symbols on the demons’ robes, and maybe if they called Mr Wells he’d be able to do a locator spell of some sort?
Groaning at the ‘Mr Wells’ Buffy had to concede that this was a good idea.
“Listen - you call Andrew and tell him everything you just told me, and I’ll get to you and we’ll go deal with this together, OK?”
Bella’s relief was obvious, and, after getting her location, Buffy said goodbye. Grumbling under her breath about the unsociable hours that demons kept, she pulled on some jeans, a warm top and her most sensible boots, before gathering her hair in a ponytail and choosing a coat. Quickly she scribbled a note for Dawn, then grabbed the Scythe, her helmet and keys.
As always she smiled when she saw her pale blue moped - Rome was huge, and it was quite simply not possible to run everywhere the way she had in Sunnydale. The moped was the perfect solution - and also far cuter and smaller than a car.
The cool pre-dawn air woke her very effectively, and she only got lost once which was probably a new record. Feeling happy and alert she grinned to Bella as she drew up beside her, and soon they were on their way to their destination. Buffy would have to remember to tell Andrew thanks - he was good at his job when he didn’t get distracted.
Parking the moped a little way off they silently tiptoed towards the warehouse (why always empty warehouses, she wondered) and quickly found a side door. Putting her hand on it, she realised that it was slightly ajar. Either these were some of the sloppiest demons she’d ever come across, or something was up... then she heard a voice, and, frowning, gently pushed the door open.
The sight that greeted her made her gasp. In the middle of the mostly empty room - beside an altar covered in a dark cloth and cluttered with candles, mystical artifacts and a large knife - stood The Immortal, looking impossibly rakish in what was apparently his standard outfit of black trousers and white shirt, although this time the sleeves were rolled up. He had his hand around the neck of a corpulent spotted demon, and a gun aimed at a group of horned, thuggish red-skinned demons, fitting the description Bella had given.
“That’s it,” he said, voice low and dangerous as the red demons slowly lined up against the wall. “You try to move as much as an inch and I blow you to pieces!”
Then he turned his head as her boots scraped on the floor, and his face suddenly lit up. “Buffy - excellent! I was just wondering whether I had to call for back-up.”
She blinked. “I’m back-up?”
He grinned at her, and then tightened the grip on the demon in his hand, who had attempted to speak.
“You don’t get to talk, creep! Although you would be able to confirm that this was my town first. But seriously - Buffy, do you think you could take care of...”
He nodded towards a dark corner, and Buffy suddenly realised that there was a sniffling sound. She and Bella ran across the floor and saw a young girl - maybe 7 or 8 years old - dressed up in some ceremonial robe and chained to the wall. Quelling her sudden bright fury and disgust Buffy quickly broke the chains, before helping the girl up. Bella began comforting her, the torrent of Italian too fast for Buffy to follow, but the girl gratefully clung to the other Slayer. Thinking fast, Buffy caught Bella’s attention.
“Can you ride a moped?”
“Si, si, of course, but I am too young...”
“Doesn’t matter. Only two can fit on, and as you know my Italian is... not so much.” She dug out her keys. “Here - take her back to Slayer headquarters, get Andrew to find out where she lives etcetera. I’ll stay here - I’m sure The Immortal could use a hand.”
Bella nodded and quickly escorted the girl out. Buffy followed them with her eyes, then looked up and saw The Immortal smiling at her grimly.
“Thank you. I hate it when children are involved.” The vehemence in his voice was so sharp, that without asking she knew that this was a personal matter to him.
One of the demons used the momentary distraction to make a run for it, but The Immortal’s head swivelled and without hesitation he fired. The bullet caught the creature in the back, and it collapsed screaming.
“I said don’t move!” he repeated, scanning the four demons still left. His eyes were cold and angry, and he looked... old. It was a look she knew far too well, and something clutched at her heart. Slowly he turned his gaze on the demon still grasped in his left hand, the sneer on his face deepening.
“And as for you...” He looked the demon over, and slowly shook his head. “If your grandfather could see you now, he would spin in his mausoleum. To think that he once thought you might amount to something... Instead you’ve dragged your family name through the mud in ways he - thankfully - couldn’t have imagined!”
The demon tried speaking, but The Immortal wasn’t finished. “You know what the joke is? This was supposed to be my holiday - a little time off. No death and blood and pain and all the usual fucked-up mess. And then I get a phonecall, informing me that the grand-spawn of one of my oldest friends is about to have himself a little human sacrifice! And for what? To get money to pay back the loansharks, because he squandered the family fortune. Trust me, you have no idea the amount of pain I want to inflict on you!”
The demon rasped something that sounded like “loyrrrrs...” and The Immortal suddenly laughed joylessly and released his grip, causing the demon to collapse on the floor, gasping for air.
“Oh I know who your lawyers are, but they’re not the reason I’m going to let you go.”
Buffy looked at him sharply. He was going to let the creep go?
Smiling a smile as predatory as any she’d seen on a vampire, The Immortal looked down on the creature at his feet.
“You have no money, and therefore your lawyers couldn’t care less what happens to you. Gotta love Wolfram & Hart! And, if my source is correct, your loanshark is going to crucify you - possibly literally. Would ask for a ringside seat if I had the time.”
Taking a deep breath he lifted his face and cast a withering glance over the remaining demons by the wall. “You can leave. If I ever see you in this town again you’ll share your friend’s fate, understood?”
The demons nodded and scrambled for the exit as fast as their legs could carry them. With one last disgusted look The Immortal turned his back on the demon still on the floor and put away his gun, catching Buffy’s eyes as he did so.
“Have I mentioned how much I hate magic?” He shuddered. “And although it is very nice to see you again I wish it’d been under different circumstances. Despite your job description I can’t help thinking that less violence and more flowers-and-chocolate is the way to go.”
She stared at him silently. She’d spent most of Saturday turning the situation over in her head, trying to work out whether to call him or not - re-reading all the info Andrew had dug up, before he’d read The Immortal’s book and turned into a born-again worshipping moron. Because despite the fun and the charm - and the glimpses of a far different man beneath the facade - there were stories that told of something far darker. Looking at him now she could suddenly see the origin of these stories, and there was no doubting his ruthlessness. But... despite their somewhat differing methods they seemed to be on the same side.
Her head busy trying to sort through all this new information, she noticed the movement too late. She called out, but the demon had already grabbed the knife from the altar, face twisted with fury, and in a single, too-fast-to-follow motion he had stabbed it through The Immortal’s back.
As the blade came through his chest he looked down, face distorting in pain.
“Oh crap!”
Briefly he caught her eyes - torment and alarm staring back at her - and then he collapsed on the floor, revealing the demon behind him, hand still clutching the now-bloody knife.
Buffy reacted without thinking, and before the other had time to move the Scythe sliced through its neck. Then she fell to her knees beside The Immortal, turning him over on his back, desperately looking to see how bad the damage was - and realised that it was much too late.
His eyes were open and empty, his shirt soaked in blood. Swiftly she undid the buttons, but seeing the wound it was clear that the blade had gone straight through his heart. Almost choking she sat back on her heels, trying to understand what had happened. Wasn’t the whole point of being immortal that he couldn’t die? She remembered fighting Spike when he had the Gem of Armarra, how he had laughed off fatal injuries... so how? Was this what he’d meant when he’d told her that she’d not been completely wrong? Although vampires were immortal until killed...
Swallowing against the lump in her throat she wondered if maybe she was cursed - anyone coming into contact with her was doomed to badness and a horrible death? He’d been... he’d been so full of life, so - vibrant. Despite being deeply conflicted about him, she was sure that the world was a worse place without him.
Slowly she reached out to close his eyes, grateful that at least she could do that much - having a body to bury was a luxury.
Then abruptly he gasped, flailing hands reaching up and grabbing her arm.
She almost cried out in alarm; but, as she looked into his eyes, two-and-a-half years suddenly crumbled into nothing.
Momentary pure wild terror - vertigo at life itself. Sudden rush of air into the lungs, desperate attempts at orientation...
It couldn’t be...
Then his face contorted in agony, his fingers digging into her arms, before he laughed unsteadily... and the wound closed itself before her widening eyes.
“Christ I hate being stabbed through the chest! All that blood, and my clothes get ruined every time.”
He tried to sit up and she helped stabilise him, turning him so he could lean against the altar.
“Where did-” he waved an unsteady hand, and she nodded towards the body on the floor next to him.
“I decapitated him,” she answered, and a wide grin broke out on The Immortal’s face. “I should have started hanging out with Slayers a long time ago - most people just freak out over the death thing and when I wake up things are even worse than before.”
She looked at him, not meeting his smile, and unable to stop herself reached out and touched his chest - perfectly perfect again, as if never marred. “Is... is that how it works?”
Sombre again, he nodded. “That’s how it works.” She could almost touch the pain in his eyes, and taking a slow, deep breath she finally asked: “Do you lose it every time?”
He frowned, studying her unsurely. “Lose what?”
“Heaven.” Incredible that the word was still so hard to say.
For a moment he just stared at her, the pain on his face as sudden and acute as if she’d slapped him, then he looked away. “Sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no sitting around on clouds playing the harp. There’s just... nothing.”
Bewildered she shook her head. “But there is a heaven. I know, because I went there.”
This got his attention. “You... what?”
“I died, this one time. OK, I’ve died twice, but the second time was a lot more permanent - I was dead for like five months and... I think I was in heaven. I don’t know what else to call it... No clouds or anything like that, but I was... happy. Completely.”
He stared at her silently for a long while, and she couldn’t begin to guess at what thoughts passed through his head. Finally he asked, “But how - how did you come back to life?”
“My friends did a spell. The world needed a Slayer - and they missed me - so they brought me back.” It was less painful to remember now, and yet... “They didn’t really think it through. I... woke up in my coffin.”
She saw the dawning horror on his face as he took in the implications. “Oh my god... That’s... I’ve never done that. I mean I’ve been buried plenty of times - collapsing houses, and trenches, an avalanche once... but at least I was prepared for it, more or less.”
He hesitated for a moment, the slowly asked: “How did you cope - with being back?”
She smiled a little as she shook her head. “I didn’t. Well I was quite good at keeping up a front, but it was so, so hard to keep going, and I did some... very self-destructive things. For a long time I just wanted to die again. I didn’t... I didn’t understand why I was alive. When I died I - I was ready for it. My life to save the world; seemed a good trade. And that was supposed to be it...”
The Immortal was staring at her, like he’d never seen her before. “I never - I never thought anyone else...” he swallowed, then suddenly looked around at the dirty bloody space they were sitting in, the early morning sun now falling through grimy windows.
“Let’s get out of here. You wanna come back to my place? Best breakfast in town.”
She nodded readily and gave him a hand up. He seemed more steady on his feet now, studying the dead body on the floor.
“I think I’ll just quietly let his family know where he is, and they can do what they want - unless it’ll interfere with your clean-up operation?”
She blinked. “My what?”
“Clean-up. You don’t have a team of some sort for getting rid of bodies?”
Mutely she shook her head, and he looked surprised, but then shrugged. “Anyway - thank you for offing him. Couldn’t do myself, being a family friend and all that. To be honest they might even be pleased that he was killed by a Slayer - backwards demon logic and all that.”
He shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his face, before changing the subject. “Come on, my car’s parked round the back.”
She nodded and, after picking up the Scythe, fell into step with him as they walked across the half-empty space, tall craters looming in the corners, but after a short moment he shot her a sideways glance.
“Sorry about prying - and do tell me to go to hell if I’m overstepping some boundaries - but how did you die the first time? I mean... it’s not a question I’ve ever been able to ask before.”
“Vampire,” she replied, and to her surprise a wide grin broke out on his face.
“Really? My best death ever was by vampire. Or vampires, rather. Sure it hurts like hell when they first bite, but my god the pay-off is worth it. Threesome of the century, definitely. Possibly of the millennium. ”
She was staring at him, wide-eyed, desperately telling herself, over and over, ‘Don’t think about Angel, don’t think about Angel, don’t think about Angel...’
Then his voice trailed off, and he studied her, puzzled.
“Wait - how did you come back from that?”
Doing her best to appear calm, she kept her eyes fixed on the door they were now nearing. “He only took a bite and then drowned me. One of my friends brought me back with CPR.”
“Oh.” He pulled a sympathetic face. “Drowning sucks! Seriously unpleasant way to die - all that water in your lungs...”
“Ruined my Prom dress too,” she cut in, relishing the opportunity to just be able to talk, without worrying about being thought a freak. They’d reached the door, but instead of opening it he stopped and turned to her, eyes widening.
“Your Prom dress? How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
Slowly he shook his head, an expression she couldn’t read crossing his face.
“Of course, Slayers are called young... like that one you brought with you.” His eyes grew distant. “Too young - too young by far to fight. You can’t come back from that.”
She studied him silently, wondering what lay behind his words. He was old, no doubt about it, so did he see youngsters as epitomes of innocence? But then he slowly continued.
“I ran away from home to join the army when I was around that age. Talked my best friend into coming with me. It was supposed to be an adventure, a chance to pay back the bastards who-”
He stopped himself abruptly, but she could guess at what had happened. She’d not thought about the fact that he might have been a child once, not really given much thought to who he was, only focussing on what. It struck her as very shallow all of a sudden. Silently she wondered what had happened to his home - or his family. Because there was a tragedy there, she'd bet her life on it.
Taking a deep, slow breath, he whispered, “He didn’t make it back...”
Instinctively she reached out and took his hand, and he clasped it gratefully, searching her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I don’t normally do this at all - and I never do it here. But then I’ve never met someone quite like you before!”
She smiled back lopsidedly. “Definitely ditto.”
They held each other’s eyes for a long moment, something indefinable being settled without words.
Slowly he nodded. “Guess we could both do with a friend... But let’s get a move-on, there’s freshly made pastries waiting for us! Or there will be, as soon as I give Francesca a call.”
Pulling out his cellphone he shot her a dazzling smile, and then opened the door, the sudden brightness of sun and smile almost overwhelming.
Buffy rapidly decided that café breakfasts were a very poor and second-rate way of starting the day, compared to breakfasts served in The Immortal’s garden.
It was like something out of a Merchant Ivory film - a genre she was now very familiar with thanks to Dawn and Andrew’s Anglophilia - and she half-expected some prim English couple to arrive, apologising for their lateness and complaining about the dreadful heat of the Italian climate.
The drive back had been uneventful, the conversation easy and touching on a wide variety of unimportant subjects, but as she drained her coffee cup Buffy eyed up the man across from her. He was once more immaculately dressed in a bright white shirt - the only hint of the morning’s actions his hair which was still a little ruffled, if in a very dashing way. She dearly wished she’d chosen a more flattering outfit herself, but it was too late now - and he didn’t seem to mind in the least. So she tilted her head, determined to get an answer - because she was more curious than ever.
“Earlier...”
“Hm?” he replied, blue eyes smiling back.
“You said... that this was holiday. Away from... bad things...”
He carefully put down the cup he was holding and momentarily lowered his eyes.
“Ah. Now that’s the problem with liking smart people... although I’d probably have told you anyway. What with you being you.”
She leaned forward, trying to ignore the warm fuzzy feelings that his words invoked. “It has to do with the ‘I wasn’t wrong’ thing, yes?”
He shot her a sly, rather smug, look. “That worked, did it?”
She nodded impatiently. “What did you mean?”
He sat still for a moment, then caught her eyes. “How would you describe this place? Fairytale? Too good to be true?”
She looked around at the idyllic surroundings, the immaculate lawn and the spring flowers wafting in the early morning breeze, and nodded again. A shrewd look in his eyes, he rested his chin on folded up hands. “It is that way because I made it that way. Let me think of a way to describe it in 21st Century language...” His eyes narrowed. “Essentially it’s a centuries-long carefully controlled exercise in image management.”
“A what now?”
He grinned at her, leaning forward into her personal space - the table was quite small, and she had a feeling it was so on purpose. “As I said, it’s all real, but the whole... aura is carefully tailored. What’s a good example? Oh yes - tell people that you’ve spent a long time in Tibet, and they will presume you’re a spiritual sort of person. I’ve never claimed to be spiritual - because quite frankly that would be preposterous - but I still have that reputation, and it does wonders for my influence! If you can control the initial input, moulding the result is easy.”
She nodded slowly, beginning to see the possibilities. “Like... two movie stars being snapped by the paparazzi, and suddenly everyone thinks they’re a couple.”
He laughed. “Exactly! And the best thing? It works in reverse too. Someone sceptical trying to ‘find the truth’ will discover mostly hear-say and rumours and dismiss the whole thing without realising the kernel of truth hidden at the center. It’s simple when you know how.”
“That’s very clever,” she said slowly, turning it over in her head, wondering if there was any way she could use this in the way all the new Slayers saw her. He grinned. “It is, isn’t it? A perfectly perfect little slice of fairy tale made real.”
But then she again remembered what he’d said, and frowned. “But why? You said it was a holiday...”
“That is the best description, yes.”
“So... you have a different life somewhere else?”
He nodded slowly. “Yup. Mr double-life, that’s me.” He stopped for a moment, eyes darkening. “Triple, actually.”
“So...” she looked at him expectantly, and his eyebrows rose in almost comical fashion.
“Oh I’m not telling you about my other identities! To be honest, I’ve never actually told anyone that I have a different life - although some guessed, I’m sure - so you’re a huge exception already.”
She watched him incredulously, as he leaned back in his chair, smiling.
“So... that’s it? That’s all I’m getting?”
“That’s it. First of all, my other life is all very secret, and second...” he hesitated momentarily, “I come here to get away from it. I’m trying to pretend it doesn’t exist. Trust me, you don’t want to know. Also, it’s dangerous - even for you.”
There was no laughter in his eyes anymore and she tilted her head. “You’re really not going to tell me?”
“No. I...” the smile and the charm suddenly reappeared with a vengeance, “I thought that maybe you’d like to join me in my little fairy tale? See I could be Prince Charming, you could be Princess Buffy, and we could pretend that every story has a happily ever after, that the good guys never do terrible things and the bad guys are never cute, that people never die or leave us behind, that we never have make to impossible choices...”
She suddenly swallowed, but didn’t look away. Somehow - and the serendipity of the situation was almost impossible - this man understood her; her life, her pain, her fears. It was far, far different from anything she’d ever experienced, and not at all what she’d expected from this unlikeliest of corners.
He chuckled a little, adding, “Of course, since this is a 21st Century fairy tale, the prince and princess both have busy lives and careers. But I figure we could have a lot of fun together nonetheless. What do you say?”
And there was that twinkle in his eyes again. She knew that if she didn’t get out instantly she’d probably be unable to deny him anything... and really, was there any reason at all for getting out?
But before she could reply, her phone began ringing.
It turned out to be Dawn, wondering just how long it could take to stop one measly little sacrifice, and being rather grumpy because Sundays were sister-bonding days, but if Buffy had somewhere else she’d rather be, then fine, it wasn’t like Dawn had cancelled a really hot date for Buffy’s sake or anything!
Buffy looked apologetically at The Immortal when she’d hung up.
“I’m gonna have to run...”
He held up his hands, an easy smile on his lips. “No worries. But if you’re up for some fun just call - anytime. My schedule is... flexible. As am I.”
He winked, and she couldn’t help but smile back.
It wasn’t a date. It was - it was more like having that (male) gay best friend she’d been imagining. Except he wasn’t gay...
“I’ll call. As soon as I know when I have some time. Tomorrow night might be free...”
She got up, holding out her hand and he took it - grinning widely.
“Trust me. We’ll be spectacular!”
And she didn’t doubt him at all.
Chapter 5
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I love your writing.
Now all we need is for Capt John to show up....
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I'm very glad it worked - and I think they'd get along famously. They're just what each other needs!
I love your writing.
*blushes* Thank you - that really means a lot!
Now all we need is for Capt John to show up....
Ha! Although Spike and Angel of course turn up at one point... ;)
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Or, y'know, not entirely anyway. Just very flexible!
I adore this. My head is in this universe and it won't leave. Silly head!
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Hee! Kathy said almost exactly the same thing! :D
I adore this.
Squee!
My head is in this universe and it won't leave. Silly head!
Why would you want to leave? One of my aims in writing this is to weave both 'verses together so they can co-exist!
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The problem with the verse not leaving my head is that I'm having visions of Team Slayer encountering Team Torchwood in Cardiff and Hellmouths that are Rifts and Rifts that are Hellmouths and it is all Very Disturbing.
(Do check out this series (http://www.tthfanfic.com/Series-953), too!)
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I've heard of it, but am saving it up to when I have some reading time... *crosses fingers* Thanks lots for the rec though, I'd almost forgotten about it!
I'm having visions of Team Slayer encountering Team Torchwood in Cardiff
*looks shifty* I miiiight be planning a epilogue set in Cardiff, 2008...
Hellmouths that are Rifts and Rifts that are Hellmouths and it is all Very Disturbing.
You made me think! I mean, I was thinking about it *anyway*, but... the Rift is a rift in time and space, but with in the same universe. (What with the Doctor continually going on about the walls between dimensions being SEALED OFF COMPLETELY!) My theory is that Hellmouths are ancient portals to different dimensions, that - being ancient - work by magic. (There will be more thoughts about magic and its role within the fic itself, or I'd go on for a LOT longer.)
Does that help at all?
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Oh and also thank you for reading!
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Lovely!
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Thanks! :) And character studies are *so* my thing...
A giggle to the mention of his threesome with Dru and Darla. :)
Couldn't let that one go by unmentioned. I love how his reactions are - for Buffy - mostly completely unexpected.
Thank you lots for reading! *smooches*
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Favorite bit include:
She was staring at him, wide-eyed, desperately telling herself, over and over, ‘Don’t think about Angel, don’t think about Angel, don’t think about Angel...’
The evil part of me is just snickering, since we all know how Jack's vampire death slots with Buffy's vampire bite.
“No. I...” the smile and the charm suddenly reappeared with a vengeance, “I thought that maybe you’d like to join me in my little fairy tale? See I could be Prince Charming, you could be Princess Buffy, and we could pretend that every story has a happily ever after, that the good guys never do terrible things and the bad guys are never cute, that people never die or leave us behind, that we never have make to impossible choices...”
This provided the 'ah hah' moment. If one was still going 'buh?' over the whole Jack and Buffy thing, this would be the thing that makes it click. Of course the two of them have more in common than they want to admit. The draw for both of them of a friend, some one who understand their life and just happens to be wildly attractive and fun, would be hard to resist.
This was quite a revealing chapter. Thanks for sharing this. And may you have a fun, relaxing and uneventful holiday.
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I'm so very pleased it worked! Ever since I began thinking about them I've had a very clear idea of what their dynamic would be, and it was wonderful finally being able to set it out. Guess this could almost be seen as a 'ship manifesto. *g*
The evil part of me is just snickering, since we all know how Jack's vampire death slots with Buffy's vampire bite.
Exactly. And how typical is it of Jack to think 'vampire bite - teh hotness', rather than 'oh noes'? I love him oh so much. :)
This provided the 'ah hah' moment. If one was still going 'buh?' over the whole Jack and Buffy thing, this would be the thing that makes it click.
I was a tiny bit worries that it was too much, but I loved it so much that I couldn't leave it. Jack voicing all his issues and hurts (because I tried to think of specific instances that inform everything he says), and (in one way) laying himself bare was something I *had* to. And of course Buffy understands it all. (And the way it echoes Giles in 'Lie To Me' is of course rather deliberate.)
Of course the two of them have more in common than they want to admit.
Well they admit it, but then also decide not to talk about it. They don't want to sit and cry on each others' shoulders about how horrible life has been to them. *g*
The draw for both of them of a friend, some one who understand their life and just happens to be wildly attractive and fun, would be hard to resist.
And that is my Jack and Buffy in one simple sentence! I didn't want some big lovestory, since they both have plenty of huge lovestories in their lives already. 'Parters in crime' just works.
This was quite a revealing chapter. Thanks for sharing this.
Thank *you* for your lovely feedback. I feel very spoiled!
And may you have a fun, relaxing and uneventful holiday.
*crosses fingers* Thanks!
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I love how you merge two distinctively different universes without concessions to either side. It's incredible emjoyment - to discover familiar patterns in adventures of characters from different verses.
Buffy's POV works as effectively as Jack's POV did. You manage to switch from serious to funny and back flawlessly. My favorite moment is when Buffy complains about death ruining her Prom dress (fun!) to Immortal's amazement about her young age when she died for the first time (poignant). That's quintessential Buffy.
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*beams*
I love how you merge two distinctively different universes without concessions to either side. It's incredible emjoyment - to discover familiar patterns in adventures of characters from different verses.
I am loving it! There will be more. :)
Buffy's POV works as effectively as Jack's POV did.
Thank you! She can be tricky, but for some reason she's being very easy (for now anyway). And I really need her POV a lot at the moment, since not all my readers are familiar with Jack's story and thus need to see him through her eyes.
You manage to switch from serious to funny and back flawlessly. My favorite moment is when Buffy complains about death ruining her Prom dress (fun!) to Immortal's amazement about her young age when she died for the first time (poignant). That's quintessential Buffy.
It helps that Torchwood/Doctor Who is written the same way. I'm just very happy that I apparently manage to pull it off! :) Thank you again!
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Wanted to drop in and say I love the way you've drawn out the parallels between Buffy and Jack. Nicely done! That little moment of pain and hope when Buffy tells him that there is something beyond the darkness, that she's seen it is especially lovely.
Looking forward to more!
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Well thank you lots and lots for reading, and thank you for commenting now - it's always wonderful to discover 'new' readers! :)
But I've found this story to be very entertaining and well written. I've been rather enjoying it, and always look forward to the next segment!
Aw, thank you! (And sorry the updates are so far between - but RL is just not my friend.)
Wanted to drop in and say I love the way you've drawn out the parallels between Buffy and Jack. Nicely done!
This whole bit just wrote itself - I've had it all worked out (word for word) for *months*. Finally posting it felt wonderful. And I'm terribly pleased that it worked.
That little moment of pain and hope when Buffy tells him that there is something beyond the darkness, that she's seen it is especially lovely.
I thought that he *so* needed that, since Torchwood is all 'There's NOTHING' doom and gloom the whole time. (Of course Suzie goes into the 'nothingness' too, but she's definitely a very bad person. I think it can work.)
Looking forward to more!
Thank you - will do my best to write once I get back from holiday... (Won't be easy with 3 children in the house, but I'll need to keep sane *somehow*!)
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True. But I didn't really manage to edit in any descriptions, and I'd feel awfully self-conscious praising my writing, even if it was by third party. *hides*
I really love this chapter for all the parallels you draw between Jack and Buffy, which as I've said, I never realised were there.
Thank you again! And I feel like this is almost like a ship-manifesto. Which is nice, because apparently it's working! :)
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LOL!
“Do you lose it every time?”
He frowned, studying her unsurely. “Lose what?”
“Heaven.” Incredible that the word was still so hard to say.
Oh, so heartbreaking. Nice.
“My schedule is... flexible. As am I.”
Heeeeeeee. Great Jack voice.
You do a beautiful job here of portraying a real connection between Buffy and Jack. Wonderful chapter.
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Yay! You liked the Andrew bit. There'll be more Andrew. Oh yes! ;)
Oh, so heartbreaking. Nice.
Thank you! Poor Buffy... *hugs her again* (Did you watch
Heeeeeeee. Great Jack voice.
Jack is a *delight*! (Although it's tricky to take him out of his familiar surroundings. And outfits. No blue shirts or braces or greatcoat or wriststrap... it's hard to get a good mental picture.)
You do a beautiful job here of portraying a real connection between Buffy and Jack. Wonderful chapter.
Aw thank you! *basks in glow from superior writer*
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love how they unsuspectantly [sp?] have lot in common that i never thought about before :D
i love how you have their relationship progressing bit by bit.
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LJ can be very fickle! *kicks it*
love how they unsuspectantly [sp?] have lot in common that i never thought about before :D
I think the word you're looking for is 'unexpectedly'? And all the parallels in their lives was what made me need to write this - the more I thought about it, the more I could see. (It would probably have been *quicker* to write meta... but not as much fun!)
i love how you have their relationship progressing bit by bit.
It's wonderful to write, so I'm very happy that it seems to work for everyone else too.
Thank you lots for your comment - it was a lovely surprise. :)
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Also - how are you? Everything going well?
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A random question: when do you come back?
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Indeed! And we are having a wonderful time! (I can hear Darcy & the children playing outside! *g*)
And we will return on the 11th (of August). As far as I remember... Hope your holidays are brilliant too!
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Buffy actually enjoys driving a moped? And manages not to crash or anything? Maybe all the Italian drivers are so terrified when they see her coming that they clear the road, giving her free passage...
why always empty warehouses, she wondered
Because the Mutant Enemy studio was, in fact, an empty warehouse, so filming there was really cheap?
re-reading all the info Andrew had dug up, before he’d read The Immortal’s book and turned into a born-again worshipping moron.
:-) Of course Andrew would react like that...
Loved the "Do you lose it every time?" and "sixteen" bits.
“Essentially it’s a centuries-long carefully controlled exercise in image management.”
I'd actually forgotten that when we first encountered him, Captain Jack was a transtemporal con-man...
it was more like having that (male) gay best friend she’d been imagining. Except he wasn’t gay...
And now I want to see Captain Jack have a conversation about sexuality with Willow...
:-)
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I remembered you commenting on the first chapter, but figured you were too busy to keep up. It happens! (And this ain't short. Woe.)
Buffy actually enjoys driving a moped? And manages not to crash or anything? Maybe all the Italian drivers are so terrified when they see her coming that they clear the road, giving her free passage...
*giggles* I could totally see her on a moped (so much smaller and cuter than a car!), and also Rome is one of the places where her driving wouldn't cause any raised eyebrows! ;)
Because the Mutant Enemy studio was, in fact, an empty warehouse, so filming there was really cheap?
It is a genre staple I think. Is there are single action film that hasn't got an empty-warehouse fight scene?
:-) Of course Andrew would react like that...
Once a sheep, always a sheep...
Loved the "Do you lose it every time?" and "sixteen" bits.
Thank you. They really have *so* much in common...
I'd actually forgotten that when we first encountered him, Captain Jack was a transtemporal con-man...
People tend to forget that he's actually very smart. And - of course - being from the 51st Century manipulating things in this time is very straightforward! ETA: He was also of course a Time Agent, and actually *trained* for exactly this sort of thing.
And now I want to see Captain Jack have a conversation about sexuality with Willow...
Good things come to those who wait.
Anyway, thank you lots and lots for your feedback! :)
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Every note if pitch perfect. Jack is dead on in attitude and voice. You really have made his "aloneness" so vivid. The elements he shares with Buffy make it compelling and so believable that they would be drawn to be together. I actually don't mind her being with The Immortal under these circumstances.
Buffy is grieving yet it makes perfect sense that she is intrigued and feeling sympatico with Jack. They are both unique warriors who are alone even in a crowd.
Wonder how he'll react to find out about Spike (if you are going that route). Since Jack isn't a settle down kind of guy (and we ALL know how he will be connecting with Ianto later)...I have to hope she finds out about our favorite blonde vamp and all live happily ever after (I gotta think Jack would love "sticking it to" Angel again by helping bring THAT about! LOL).
Loved the Dru moments in previous chapters....nice soft touch of sanity that doesn't sound that way but really is!
All your voices are excellent and the plot is utterly believable. Witty, clever, in perfect voice and compelling..this one is a masterwork.
Kathleen
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And I *still* have to read most of your output... ::is sad:: Maybe one day when I am ill and bedridden I'll finally get the chance to tackle some of it. People write too much, I can't keep up! (Stupid RL being all busy and stuff all the time!)
My dear friend adrianna_is was talking about this at breakfast and telling me how perfect it is even with our Spuffy hearts...she is so right.
Aw bless her, I must remember to say thank you. But yes - actually I doubt I could ever write *anything* that wasn't Spuffy-friendly! ;)
Every note if pitch perfect. Jack is dead on in attitude and voice. You really have made his "aloneness" so vivid.
My poor Jack! I adore writing him, even though he is in such a bad place at this time (he probably needs Buffy as much as she needs him). Thank you lots for your praise, esp since it's been a good while since I saw S1 of TW which is of course the tone I am trying to match.
The elements he shares with Buffy make it compelling and so believable that they would be drawn to be together. I actually don't mind her being with The Immortal under these circumstances.
It seems that my mission to convert all of LJ to Buffy/Jack is working! :)
Buffy is grieving yet it makes perfect sense that she is intrigued and feeling sympatico with Jack. They are both unique warriors who are alone even in a crowd.
Exactly. I never wanted to go the love-story route (because they have plenty of those, both of them, and also I didn't think that either was over the ones they'd lost), and when I began thinking about all the parallels between them their dynamic just snapped into place. :)
Wonder how he'll react to find out about Spike (if you are going that route).
Weeeeell... I'm going to follow canon to the letter, so no happily-ever-after as such. (And believe me, trying to work out what on *earth* was going on in TGiQ from the other side - what with the bags swapped round and the bomb etc. - was quite a headache! I've got it all in place now, but it's going to be rather complicated...) Anyway, I'll finish the fic at pretty much the same time as canon (for BtVS/AtS) stops, so around NFA. But - I might be planning a sequel/epilogue. *whistles innocently*
Loved the Dru moments in previous chapters....nice soft touch of sanity that doesn't sound that way but really is!
Thank you!! Writing Dru is pretty daunting, but for once I knew what was going on in her head, which helped a lot. (And, I guess, Dru is viewing time from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint... *g*)
All your voices are excellent and the plot is utterly believable. Witty, clever, in perfect voice and compelling..this one is a masterwork.
And now I'm all flaily from all your praise. *blushes* Thank you tons and tons for reading - I'm so pleased you're enjoying it, and I hope you'll continue to do so. (I kinda think you will. And the subject of Spike *will* be brought up at one point. Oh yes! And that's all I'm saying...)
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Basically, primarily because of this story, I've wound up jumping headfirst into the Who/Torchwood universe, which I'd been successfully resisting until then. So thanks for that. ;-)
The last two chapters have been totally brilliant. I love the contrast between The Immortal's playfulness and carefree aspects (and him hitting on Dawn and talking about the hotness of vampires was just perfect) and Jack's loneliness and isolation. I like how he realized that he wanted to get to know Buffy and be with her, but that he was in the wrong guise to do so, so the next time they meet, he's mostly Jack (even if she doesn't know the name or details of Jack's life) and quickly lets her in on secrets he's never told anyone. He really is a sucker for a hero, isn't he? ;-)
As a side note, it does seem like she'll need *some* other name for him -- it seems like it would be difficult to have a relationship with someone that you could only call "Immortal" - much worse than only calling someone "Doctor", even.
Buffy's initial suspicions were natural, and I loved her surprise over the idea that he might like *her*, not "the slayer". It's perfect that she, more than anyone, would understand why the inability to die isn't particularly a good thing and that he would get the strain of being a hero. The comparison of experiences while dead is certainly something that neither gets to do a lot, and it's interesting to see Jack's reaction - I've always thought it was interesting in the Torchwood pilot that he asked the dead guy what he saw when he's been dead so often himself.
It's interesting to see how, even though they're both automatically opening up to each other far more than they ever would to most people, there are still large secrets they're holding onto. For Buffy, the fact that her background is even more complicated than she's explained thus far and the fact that she knows *exactly* the erotic benefits of vampires (both biting and in bed), and for Jack, the entire other life and the fact that he isn't several centuries old but that there was time-travel involved. The realization that they have *specific* vampires in common should be fun.
I have to agree with Jack that they will, in fact, be spectacular together, and I look forward to the next chapter. And the one after that. And so on.
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Basically, primarily because of this story, I've wound up jumping headfirst into the Who/Torchwood universe, which I'd been successfully resisting until then. So thanks for that. ;-)
Ooooh, my pleasure! It is a truly brilliant universe (if at times endearingly clumsy), and I hope you enjoy it muchly.
The last two chapters have been totally brilliant.
Thank you! *beams* I see chapter 3 as sort of the 'proper' beginning, since the Buffy/Jack story is the one I want to tell. But I couldn't resist all the historical stuff...
I love the contrast between The Immortal's playfulness and carefree aspects (and him hitting on Dawn and talking about the hotness of vampires was just perfect) and Jack's loneliness and isolation.
I adore writing it, because that is *so* Jack - all tears of a clown etc. Except he really *does* have a cheerful disposition. (He's got layers! *g*)
I like how he realized that he wanted to get to know Buffy and be with her, but that he was in the wrong guise to do so, so the next time they meet, he's mostly Jack (even if she doesn't know the name or details of Jack's life) and quickly lets her in on secrets he's never told anyone. He really is a sucker for a hero, isn't he? ;-)
Totally. And when the hero is a beautiful blonde with hidden depths, doubly so! (Of course he also quickly realises that there's a lot more to her than meets the eye, and wants to try for something more meaningful.)
As a side note, it does seem like she'll need *some* other name for him -- it seems like it would be difficult to have a relationship with someone that you could only call "Immortal" - much worse than only calling someone "Doctor", even.
I don't know - I quite like the idea that his name is just 'Immortal', because it is so ridiculous. I could see her say it, with this sort of halfsmile on her lips. :)
Buffy's initial suspicions were natural
I never understood those who thought that she just fell into the Immortal's arms like some dumb blonde. She's pretty smart, and used to having handsome immortals after her! ;)
and I loved her surprise over the idea that he might like *her*, not "the slayer"
That became very important actually, as I wrote, because both Spike and Angel came into her life because she was the Slayer. Jack's route is more like Riley's, except where Buffy initally balks when she finds out about Riley's other side (she's a professional, he's just a kid soldier), it's of course the opposite with Jack.
It's perfect that she, more than anyone, would understand why the inability to die isn't particularly a good thing and that he would get the strain of being a hero. The comparison of experiences while dead is certainly something that neither gets to do a lot, and it's interesting to see Jack's reaction - I've always thought it was interesting in the Torchwood pilot that he asked the dead guy what he saw when he's been dead so often himself.
*nods* The death thing is obviously a big issue for Jack, and giving him this little ray of hope is important I think.
(continued in next comment)
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There is also the fact that they don't *need* to share any more secrets - there is a sort of unspoken agreement that they just understand each other and don't go delving into their dark pasts.
The realization that they have *specific* vampires in common should be fun.
::whistles innocently::
I have to agree with Jack that they will, in fact, be spectacular together, and I look forward to the next chapter. And the one after that. And so on.
Thank you!!!! And there will be *plenty* more, don't worry. My plotbunnies are FAR too active.
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Squee!!!!!
A friend of mine brought up the idea of Jack being the Immortal and another one pointed me here and man this is exactly what I was hoping for.
This makes me terribly happy (and curious about who pointed you in my direction), but mostly just happy. :)
There is so much perfect here it makes me flail my hands with glee. I can't wait to read more. Bravo!
::flails over praise:: It's always tricky to try to work out how different 'verses would fit together, and how different characters would interact, and attempting to write this big story still makes me bite my nails now and again (and wonder why I can't do short. Woe) - but I couldn't write this and not do as much with it as possible. And - as I said - your comment has made me joyful in abundance. There will be more as soon as possible, promise. (Bear in mind though that it is the school holidays and I have three little children... So give it a few weeks at least!)
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I will happily wait for more of this especially when you say things like I couldn't write this and not do as much with it as possible. The fic fills me with glee so I'm glad my comment did the same for you. :)
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KZ is a total sweetheart, and I shall have to cover her in glitter and confetti! :)
I will happily wait for more of this especially when you say things like I couldn't write this and not do as much with it as possible.
Heh. I have actually got a (VERY) rough draft of the next chapter, but it needs *so* much work. ::sigh::
But - feedback like yours is a fabulous boost! *cherishes*
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I really liked the scene where they realize that they’ have death experience in common and I found it especially touching that Buffy asked about heaven.
It’s clear that they share a lot , and emotionally I think they’re on the same boat,equally one needing the other .
I’m dearly enjoying how you make them friends above else , even if a physical attraction is here too.
I guess I’m alright with the situation not only because it’s canon in Ats s.5 but also because you write them so thoughtfully and beautifully-
Only two chapters to discover! :is hungry: :)
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This is lovely and so very well done!
*beams*
I really liked the scene where they realize that they’ have death experience in common and I found it especially touching that Buffy asked about heaven.
Thank you. As I began thinking about the pairing, this was one of the things that really stood out for me as an astonishing connection.
It’s clear that they share a lot , and emotionally I think they’re on the same boat,equally one needing the other .
As I keep saying - they're perfect for each other (especially at this point). :)
I’m dearly enjoying how you make them friends above else , even if a physical attraction is here too.
Yes! *claps* That's it precisely! I don't think Buffy/Immortal could ever be a love story (she's done epic love stories, and I think she'd run away screaming at the thought of getting caught up in another one), but on the other hand I don't think she's so shallow that she'd go for someone just because they're goodlooking and rich. So once the idea of Buffy/Jack took root, it was obvious that the relationship would be a friends-with-benefits type thing.
I guess I’m alright with the situation not only because it’s canon in Ats s.5 but also because you write them so thoughtfully and beautifully-
Aw, thank you. *blushes* I sort of feel that the idea is bigger than my writing, but I do my best to do it justice.
Only two chapters to discover! :is hungry: :)
*grins* Well I estimate that there will be 7 more chapters + an epilogue, so there's plenty more to come. And (again) I'm terribly happy that you're enjoying it so much!
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And Andrew being all competant is making me grin.
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*beams*
And Andrew being all competant is making me grin.
I'm having a LOT of fun with Andrew. :)