Echoes of Our Hearts

[madimpossibledreamer]

This was planned to be part of a much longer series, but I lost the notes and it stands pretty well on its own.  It might get extended later but I seriously have no idea where I was going with it, so...enjoy it as is, I guess?
~Dreamer~
Edit: this is related to the stories in the Giles' Detective Agency fanfic tag.  This Xander got pulled through from a future of the other.  So if you're looking for more of that, read the stories, minus one if you'd like to avoid the warning, and keep an eye on the space because I am writing more of it but am still trying to figure out update schedule.  Still no idea on where I was going with this particular post-Glory one, and I might find and post the fragments I've got, bu no plans for this particular au of an au to be continued.

Main Points:
Buffy/Devil May Cry Crossover, Buffy AU
Chapter Summary: There's a new demon hunter in town...
Word Count: 846
Rating: T
Notes: The only thing I'm sure of is this is a messed-up post-Glory (i.e. they beat her but not completely and it messed up the world).  This might be based on one of my early ideas where Xander turned out to actually be a bastard and his father is actually one of the Generals of one of the Hell Dimensions (the Underworld) rather than Tony Harris.  And yes, there's flirting.  This version's based on Dante, what do you expect?

         Giles walks into the store, which doesn't even have a sign in front.  When he was imagining a place where a Demon Hunter would be staying, he never imagined this.  A dingy inn or rundown hotel, perhaps, but a storefront that had clearly seen better days?  He's thinking of staying.  Hopefully, I can dissuade him without the need to resort to a few tricks from Ripper.
         There's a man kneeling, facing away from the door, and scrubbing away at the floor, completely unaware of the Watcher at the door.  An employee, or...?
         "Ahem."
         The man sits back so quickly he nearly falls over.  Then he glances back, sheepish and uncertain.  "Sorry about that.  First impressions, huh?"  He chuckled ruefully, but seemingly not all that upset about it.  "The place is a mess.  Just let me...I'll be right with you."
         "I'm in no hurry." Giles stated quietly. 
         A quick flash of teeth and a wave is his only answer as the man ducks into the back, bucket and brush in hand.  He returns, leaning precariously in the only chair in the place with his feet crossed comfortably in front of him on the table.  Giles takes a minute to examine the man.  It wouldn't hurt to know the enemy, after all.
         He can tell at a glance that the man is dangerous.  He's never seen anyone that relaxed who turns out to be perfectly harmless, especially anyone in the demon hunting business.  The unkempt and unruly brown hair, reaching shortly past the chin, the grey-blue eyes, the sturdy face...something about it all seemed familiar.  Just a little.  Something had obviously changed, or he only knew a relative or something, but for the life of him he could not remember.  A little softer, less strong and more dexterous, here.  The smile as well-irritatingly well-known, and yet he had never seen it before.  Genuine, amused, like this was all some big game or joke.  The clothing seemed jarring, but for all of the casual attitude and friendly face it fit the job description much better than the man itself did.  Light clothes with maximum maneuverability seemed to be the scheme, but with the power most demons hit with if they managed to catch you it was all over anyway.  The whole outfit was leather.  It wasn't entirely clear whether the choice was due to practicality or a sense of style.  The boots were navy, but appeared to have purposeful slashes in them.  The oddest boots he'd ever seen, really.  The navy and black pants looked fitted, but comfortable.  A black vest was mostly zipped, leaving a brief glimpse at the necklace he was wearing.  A navy leather trenchcoat hung from the nearby stand, which appeared to be rusting over.
         "So, like what you see?" The question drew him out of his thoughts and for the first time in seven years made him blush.  He certainly hadn't been thinking about that.  The man was well muscled, yes, but it had been years since-liar.  He ignored the voice and shook his head, trying to collect his thoughts.  Apparently the man took pity on him, though still apparently amused.
         "What can I do you for?"  Perhaps the choice of phraseology was merely...unfortunate.
         "I'm looking for a demon hunter," he replied, attempting to catch his breath.
         The man threw his hands out theatrically, grinning.  "Well, you've found one.  Any particular reason?"
         "You might have noticed Sunnydale is rather busy."
         The man nodded, placing his hands behind his head.  "Yeah.  I figure once I'm actually open, business will start pouring in.  I mean, I’m already getting business when it’s clearly not open."
         Giles' eyes turn hard.  "I hate to disappoint-"
         "Then don't."
         "...but Sunnydale is already protected.  By the Slayer.  I'm here to ask you to leave."
         Is it his imagination, or does the man look a little...well, apologetic, to be honest?  "Sorry, no can do."  At the hard stare, he sighed, levering himself out of the chair easily and coming in front to lean against the desk, bringing him closer to the Watcher.  "I'll try not to get in the way, but a man's gotta make a living, you know?"  Still no answer comes, and he lowers his voice.  "I had a dream, okay?  I don't remember the details, but I've been dreaming for months.  About this place.  Like an invitation, and who am I to miss a party?"
         He chuckles, but there's something entirely real here, something raw and exposed and new.  "I need to be here, and I need answers.  I don't need your permission to be here.  But I'd also like to not fight if we can help it."
         Giles sighs.  “Well, try not to get in my Slayer’s way, and realize that the Council will probably send teams after you.”
         “Well, if you’re warning me, you don’t condone my death.  Which I appreciate.  Thank you.”  The man nods his head carefully.  “I’ll try not to make too much of a bother of myself, thank you.”
         That’s probably as good as he’s going to get, so it’ll have to do.