Hiss of Steam and Spilled Blood

[madimpossibledreamer]

start playing the technical difficulties song because something is going wrong with the cut text...
it fixed okay

Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Sherlock Holmes AU
Summary: This one is also from 2012. This is a weird steampunk Downey Holmes crossover, in feel and a little in content.  Most of it is summary with a little bit of a fight scene (I've got an updated & much better version of the scene in a Sherlock Holmes/Assassin's Creed Syndicate that I have yet to post, yes it's inspired by the movie; I'm slowly realizing that movie was more accurate than I gave it credit for at the time, while Sherlock was worse than I gave it credit for at the time).  (For instance, on a reread of the books, Holmes absolutely does know how to box.)
As usual, all notes and summaries within fic are original to that time.
Word Count: 1047
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Xander/Spike

 

This is a steampunk AU.  I’m aware that Watson is not Spike’s human last name, but I saw it in another fanfic, and it just makes it funnier/more appropriate.  So let’s just say that’s one of the things that changed when they went back in time.

Something went wrong.  They couldn’t stop the Apocalypse.  Willow had time for a quick spell, and then they were gone.
She sent them back in time.  Sort of.  Except it’s a different past than they remember.  Remembering that Spike was William Watson at the time, Xander decided to try to get in touch with him somehow.  So they’d have a friend during the time period, especially considering they’re probably stuck there.
From his reading, apparently the human Will had been fond of the British Museum, so he applied there.

        Will walked in, and stopped.  Someone new was leaning on the desk, laughing with the secretary girl.  Upon his approach, the young man turned, and he blinked.  This man was a study in contradiction.
        The eyes were laughing, humble, the smile amused, friendly, and self-deprecating.  The dark brown hair was not tamed, but rather allowed to spill over one eye like a curtain, and longer than was usual for a man.  Yet there was darkness in those eyes, and the man seemed...at once, young, younger than William himself, and older than anyone he’d known.  He got up at once to cross the room to shake the newcomer’s hand, and the walk tried to be casual, but failed.  Oh, to the uninterested eye it would probably have succeeded, but he was looking now, and there was something dangerous about that gait-calm, self assured, almost predatory, cat-like.  Yet it was not on purpose.  This man was not stalking him as if he were prey.  William still couldn’t help the shiver running down his back, though. 
        The grip was firm, respectful-something that William had never been able to inspire, and certainly not this quickly, and the quick quirk of a smile, as if the man were amused at something.  “Alexander Holmes.”
        “William Watson.”  The hands were rough, and for one faint ridiculous moment William wondered whether he was a girl and no one had bothered to tell him.  His hands felt faint and delicate next to these, hands that had seen stories.

        He simply had to see the young man, to talk to him.  Of course, he had been following him, which was in no way excusable even to William’s mind, but there had been no way to speak to him, and trying to get his attention simply hadn’t succeeded.
        He frowned as the streets became more and more dirty, as the houses changed to hovels and the people staring became decidedly more unfriendly.  He blinked as the man ducked into what was, by reputation, one of the worst inns of the entire area.  Here was a mystery, one that he could unravel.  He felt a shiver of delight move through him.  His life had gotten more interesting, that was certain.
        He gasped as he heard the sound of blows, and ran in to find an illegal fighting match had begun.  It was not even boxing, of which he had seen one bout on the street until it was aborted by the sound of bobbies rushing their way.  It was dirty, no-holds barred fighting, with a ring of cheering and jeering drunk men and wanton women.
        He found himself unable to make a sound, though, as he realized who was fighting within that ring.  Young Holmes.
        He marveled at the power, and congratulated himself upon sensing it.  The young man *had* a dangerous side to him, a side that could mean death or pain or at the very least bloodshed.  He didn’t have the strength, but his speed was extraordinary, and he used that to his advantage, darting in and out of reach in a fashion that would be taunting if it had been meant as anything else other than a survival strategy, using momentum to put more force and power behind his blows.
        Will gasped as the man pulled Holmes into a choke hold, and his colleague started turning blue, trying to take a breath, fingers scrabbling frantically at the arms holding him.  At last, the man threw the limp body aside, and Watson thought he might have screamed.
        The man turned around, triumphant, sneering, and then in a move faster than anything he’d ever seen before and twice as astonishing, the limp unconscious or dead body twitched into motion, a few quick strategic blows soon dropping the man into unconsciousness.  “Never turn your back on an enemy,” Holmes advised quietly, not bothering with the man further.  There was no antagonism there, merely a thought of the world as opponent against opponent.

        There was a choking sound, and Will turned and gasped, tears already leaking from his eyes and threatening to carve their path down his cheeks like glaciers through a mountain valley.  Holmes had a sword sticking from out of his belly, a snarling *thing* giggling darkly at him.  He grunted, baring his teeth in an angry snarl, and brought up a sword in a beautiful flash cutting through the thing’s head and chest.  He allowed himself a small smile before he whimpered in pain and fell to his knees.  William was barely able to catch the body as it was.

        The redhead had been here before, but the way she looked at Holmes, affectionate, using pet names to try to bring him back up out of the dark, made him want to growl.  Nothing against Miss Rosenburg, but...it just seemed annoying and wrong for some reason.

        He ranted and raved, sometimes very quietly but rarely aware of his surroundings.

They end up being artefact hunters with a shop too.  There’s glimpses of Holmes-sort of the Downey Jr sort of Holmes-in this Xander, but more than that.  He’s the steampunk swashbuckler.  He’s the adventurer.  He’s also a snake-dragon-creature thing, and has fangs.  Just not all the time.  They’ve all changed, a little.  Dont’ end up finding Giles or Buffy at first.  William falls head over heels in love with his Alexander.  Who already loved William.  It’s an awesome, but very different, Xander here.  Non-powered Watcher-style William, probably joining in the magic-side like Willow.