madimpossibledreamer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
madimpossibledreamer) wrote2024-10-08 04:38 pm
madimpossibledreamer) wrote2024-10-08 04:38 pm
Entry tags:
A Time We Knew
vaccines are painful now for less pain later
Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Assassin's Creed (Beginning's End)
Summary: Rebecca and Shaun get to serve as backup.
Word Count: 1909
Rating: Teen
It’s a newer style of warehouse, with neat rows of racks and glaring lights. The owners installed acoustic panels, but they clearly weren’t taking into account a pack of werewolves howling, because the echo is still really loud, and Rebecca has the uncomfortable feeling that they’re not just making sound to communicate, they’re also using it to misdirect, camouflage their precise location as they lope through the rows. A wolf’s body is just lying bleeding on the concrete floor, and judging by the look of the wound that was an axe, probably. Which is better than they’d managed to do stuck in the mausoleum. Wolves keep running down one row toward the middle, so they’ve probably set up another defensible spot around there, though not all of the movement is werewolves—she spots Maria, posted halfway up one of the racks, cooly reloading another silver bolt and shooting a werewolf that’s scrabbling trying to get to her. It backs off, snarling and drooling and bleeding. The attacks aren’t aimless, though—they’re trying to harry and wear down the defenders, the kind of thing she’s seen on National Geographic, sure, but that’s also guerrilla tactics.
And then she sees Xander, hood up like a proper Assassin, ducking between a few crates and casually tossing what turns out to be a grenade behind him. It lets out more of a mist than an explosion, but the howl of rage and pain in response says that something in there was effective. Apparently he can’t really get up close and personal, but then, that makes sense. He can’t get bitten. Unlike the Slayers, maybe—given some of her reading they’re supposedly immune to some other supernatural effects, so they might be able to get away with that.
It’s a good thing they came, apparently. Shaun’s shot goes off before Rebecca even spots the sniper wearing body armor up there in the rafters, pointing the gun right at Xander. She’s guessing being a werewolf helps with reflexes and spotting danger even in human form, then. Though from the pinched look on his face, it seems the over the top safety lighting isn’t exactly agreeing with him now, which she can understand, because it’s really bad for her and she doesn’t have enhanced senses.
Xander glances over, and he just looks so relieved to see Shaun, and it’s probably not even at the save. Which Rebecca would totally tease him about, but she’d been there, too. And then he just sprints at them. Of course a werewolf goes to intercept him, but he just rolls out of the way smoothly in a move she’s pretty sure she’s seen Desmond pull, without any break in momentum, and he’s only a little breathless when he reaches the crates they’re crouching behind. The werewolf barely manages to slow down to avoid hitting the wall at top speed, managing to turn that into a not-so-graceful turn. “You really want that damsel in distress kiss, huh.” He peeks out and there’s even more of those throwing knives, aimed expertly at the retreating werewolf’s back paw—the tendon, if she doesn’t miss her guess—and it’s hard to tell how much damage he did, but it is limping slightly now.
Shaun only pauses to duck behind cover before squeezing off another two shots as a couple werewolves seem to have noticed their presence, fully annoyed. “After you wasted the last on me when I was in wolf form and basically incapable of enjoying it, yes, I do in fact demand a more satisfying attempt. Also, I hate using these bloody things.”
The greeting apparently didn’t do anything to dampen Xander’s mood, because he’s still smiling fondly. “Hey, She Who Causes Black Hats to Tremble, great to see you, too.”
“Hey, Xan,” she replies, amused.
“And yeah, I get it. A friend of mine got shot in college, so I can deal with guns, I just…” He shrugs, dealing with the nerves by throwing another one of those grenades. “I prefer to go old-school, even if it’s less efficient. Oh, yeah, which reminds me.” He taps the necklace like it’s a Bluetooth headset or something. “Hey, Will, they’ve got snipers. Think they’re trying to wear down the Witches and Slayers before they take their shot.”
Maria changes to scanning the the rafters and apparently it doesn’t take her long to notice another, and from the sound of bows she’s not the only one.
“Please tell me you didn’t get shot,” she replies breathlessly, fury and worry warring in her voice.
“Nah, Shaun sniped him first.” He is way too nonchalant about that and Shaun is most likely going to lecture him after they get out of this. Which she gets the feeling Xander’s eagerly anticipating that scenario.
Willow is apparently entirely on the same page as Shaun. “Alexander Lavelle Ryan, if you get yourself killed I am dragging you out of the afterlife myself. I don’t care where you’ve ended up. If the saints or whatever have a complaint, you get to explain.”
And Xander just laughs. “Fair enough.”
Apparently that’s normal enough, or maybe they just don’t have time for anything more than that, because Willow just continues. “Okay, think you can get ready for one big push?”
He glances at them, and Rebecca nods back. Shaun is too focused on picking off snipers and occasionally shooting at a fellow werewolf to actually glance over at them, even though it’s clear he’s listening. He might be sulking and mad at Xander, too. “Yeah, think we can manage that.”
He glances over at Shaun and then quickly looks away, and Rebecca glances over to find he’s shrugging off the hoodie. “Shaun!”
“I’d rather have intact clothing. For after.” He looks just about as nervous as he had when they’d first met Oz and Willow, but at least he’s planning things in terms of the idea that he’ll be able to turn back.
“I. Um.” Xander swallows, still looking away, glancing over to meet Rebecca’s gaze, and that apparently helps him find his train of thought again. “That’s a good—”
He freezes entirely at the sound of a zipper, only moving when a now-familiar fuzzy maw pushes the pair of jeans into Xander’s arms, held very carefully in sharp fangs. And, yep, Smug Shaun is the same, human or wolf.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, you didn’t have to remind me I owe you a few kisses with a strip show.” It’s a mock complaint. “We’ll leave them here. How do you want to do this?” He carefully folds them, pulling the glasses out of a pocket, and places them on top of the nearest crate.
Shaun snarls softly, and Xander nods like he’d actually spoken. “Going first? Yeah, makes sense. We’ll be right behind you.”
Shaun jumps right over the crates, and Rebecca doesn’t exactly have a great view, but she does feel the splash of blood over her face.
“Holy shit. He hit the ground running, I guess.” Xan doesn’t sound too worried—at first. But then the tone of his voice changes. “Rebecca? We’re going.”
She follows him, and okay, yeah, Shaun’s going on a rampage, because there are two more wolf bodies, only those are definitely ripping wounds. The issue is, there’s two wolves headed his way, and he hasn’t noticed the one quietly sneaking up behind him.
“Oh, hey. Someone’s getting fired.” That seems like a non sequitur, particularly with the nonchalant tone, but when he breaks off, it quickly becomes clear. As does the fact that he’s obviously driven a forklift before, because it barely takes a few moments for him to turn it on and push it to the top speed. Which is faster than she would’ve thought a forklift could go, but then, he’s probably ignoring safety precautions, at this point. If the werewolf was going at top speed, he probably couldn’t catch it, but it’s trying to go slow and sneaky, so it just manages to turn and swipe at the forklift before Xander lifts the forks and drives it straight into the side of one of the crates. Wood splinters everywhere, accompanying a spurt of blood, and Xander dives out. It’s still going, so he didn’t turn it off, which is probably the best decision—the dazed werewolf is probably going to have more trouble getting it off that way. Assuming it’s mostly intact in there. It looks like he hit that roll particularly hard, so he might be bruised, but he definitely wasn’t driving that anywhere else.
Between her and a few of the Slayers counter-sniping, they manage to deal with one, which just leaves the third. Not an issue, apparently, as they glance over and Shaun’s maw is very bloody. He throws his head high in a howl, and there’s a moment where he glances over at them and doesn’t seem to recognize them and it’s Rebecca’s turn to freeze. Xander doesn’t have a sensible sense of fear and seems to have decided this is the proper time to quip. “Hey, now you owe me, too.” Shaun’s eyes darken, anticipatory, even predatory, but the human kind of predatory, not the wolf kind, and his tail begins to wag. He doesn’t look like he’s eyeing them for the best way to rip them apart anymore.
They don’t have to go that much further to reach the spot where the Slayers had been holding out. “We are going to have words, Mister,” Willow greets them, pointing a finger, and Xander just moves out of the way of the next fired arrows. “You’re lucky with the whole ‘crush’ and ‘figuring out the transformation’ and ‘good shot’ and ‘decided to follow you’ stuff.”
“Yeah, I know.” It’d almost be nonchalant if he wasn’t really meeting their eyes. “What’s up with the ‘one big push’ plan?”
“Keep protecting the ‘camp’ and hope this works.” She reaches out, and four other Witches hold her hands as they start chanting, the energy building like a growing storm. The enemy werewolves seem to have realized something was going on, or maybe they overheard, because they’re making an extra push, complete with what look like actual formations. It’s lucky they’ve got what looks like a magical shield of some sort over the top, or the werewolves would’ve jumped down into the middle a while ago. Instead they just kind of skitter over what looks like thin air and fall on the other side.
And then a burst of energy bursts outward from the circle and all of a sudden they have naked Shaun again, only this time it doesn’t look comfortable. Well, not like any of the other ones have, either, but this time it especially looks like it hurts. He convulses, and Xander barely keeps him from bashing his head against the floor. And there’s more of the bone-breaking type of sounds that had happened the first time.
One of the Slayers holds out a jacket casually, and Rebecca uses it to cover Shaun, since Xan has his hands full. “I think I can sacrifice a little fashion for a good cause.” Like this kind of thing happens all the time.
“T-truce!” a voice calls weakly. Apparently their plan worked.
Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Assassin's Creed (Beginning's End)
Summary: Rebecca and Shaun get to serve as backup.
Word Count: 1909
Rating: Teen
They don’t come out right next to Xander. That’d be too easy. And fortunately, they’ve both had training, so they know to duck behind the nearest stack of crates before they’ve even finished taking in the entire warehouse.
It’s a newer style of warehouse, with neat rows of racks and glaring lights. The owners installed acoustic panels, but they clearly weren’t taking into account a pack of werewolves howling, because the echo is still really loud, and Rebecca has the uncomfortable feeling that they’re not just making sound to communicate, they’re also using it to misdirect, camouflage their precise location as they lope through the rows. A wolf’s body is just lying bleeding on the concrete floor, and judging by the look of the wound that was an axe, probably. Which is better than they’d managed to do stuck in the mausoleum. Wolves keep running down one row toward the middle, so they’ve probably set up another defensible spot around there, though not all of the movement is werewolves—she spots Maria, posted halfway up one of the racks, cooly reloading another silver bolt and shooting a werewolf that’s scrabbling trying to get to her. It backs off, snarling and drooling and bleeding. The attacks aren’t aimless, though—they’re trying to harry and wear down the defenders, the kind of thing she’s seen on National Geographic, sure, but that’s also guerrilla tactics.
And then she sees Xander, hood up like a proper Assassin, ducking between a few crates and casually tossing what turns out to be a grenade behind him. It lets out more of a mist than an explosion, but the howl of rage and pain in response says that something in there was effective. Apparently he can’t really get up close and personal, but then, that makes sense. He can’t get bitten. Unlike the Slayers, maybe—given some of her reading they’re supposedly immune to some other supernatural effects, so they might be able to get away with that.
It’s a good thing they came, apparently. Shaun’s shot goes off before Rebecca even spots the sniper wearing body armor up there in the rafters, pointing the gun right at Xander. She’s guessing being a werewolf helps with reflexes and spotting danger even in human form, then. Though from the pinched look on his face, it seems the over the top safety lighting isn’t exactly agreeing with him now, which she can understand, because it’s really bad for her and she doesn’t have enhanced senses.
Xander glances over, and he just looks so relieved to see Shaun, and it’s probably not even at the save. Which Rebecca would totally tease him about, but she’d been there, too. And then he just sprints at them. Of course a werewolf goes to intercept him, but he just rolls out of the way smoothly in a move she’s pretty sure she’s seen Desmond pull, without any break in momentum, and he’s only a little breathless when he reaches the crates they’re crouching behind. The werewolf barely manages to slow down to avoid hitting the wall at top speed, managing to turn that into a not-so-graceful turn. “You really want that damsel in distress kiss, huh.” He peeks out and there’s even more of those throwing knives, aimed expertly at the retreating werewolf’s back paw—the tendon, if she doesn’t miss her guess—and it’s hard to tell how much damage he did, but it is limping slightly now.
Shaun only pauses to duck behind cover before squeezing off another two shots as a couple werewolves seem to have noticed their presence, fully annoyed. “After you wasted the last on me when I was in wolf form and basically incapable of enjoying it, yes, I do in fact demand a more satisfying attempt. Also, I hate using these bloody things.”
The greeting apparently didn’t do anything to dampen Xander’s mood, because he’s still smiling fondly. “Hey, She Who Causes Black Hats to Tremble, great to see you, too.”
“Hey, Xan,” she replies, amused.
“And yeah, I get it. A friend of mine got shot in college, so I can deal with guns, I just…” He shrugs, dealing with the nerves by throwing another one of those grenades. “I prefer to go old-school, even if it’s less efficient. Oh, yeah, which reminds me.” He taps the necklace like it’s a Bluetooth headset or something. “Hey, Will, they’ve got snipers. Think they’re trying to wear down the Witches and Slayers before they take their shot.”
Maria changes to scanning the the rafters and apparently it doesn’t take her long to notice another, and from the sound of bows she’s not the only one.
“Please tell me you didn’t get shot,” she replies breathlessly, fury and worry warring in her voice.
“Nah, Shaun sniped him first.” He is way too nonchalant about that and Shaun is most likely going to lecture him after they get out of this. Which she gets the feeling Xander’s eagerly anticipating that scenario.
Willow is apparently entirely on the same page as Shaun. “Alexander Lavelle Ryan, if you get yourself killed I am dragging you out of the afterlife myself. I don’t care where you’ve ended up. If the saints or whatever have a complaint, you get to explain.”
And Xander just laughs. “Fair enough.”
Apparently that’s normal enough, or maybe they just don’t have time for anything more than that, because Willow just continues. “Okay, think you can get ready for one big push?”
He glances at them, and Rebecca nods back. Shaun is too focused on picking off snipers and occasionally shooting at a fellow werewolf to actually glance over at them, even though it’s clear he’s listening. He might be sulking and mad at Xander, too. “Yeah, think we can manage that.”
He glances over at Shaun and then quickly looks away, and Rebecca glances over to find he’s shrugging off the hoodie. “Shaun!”
“I’d rather have intact clothing. For after.” He looks just about as nervous as he had when they’d first met Oz and Willow, but at least he’s planning things in terms of the idea that he’ll be able to turn back.
“I. Um.” Xander swallows, still looking away, glancing over to meet Rebecca’s gaze, and that apparently helps him find his train of thought again. “That’s a good—”
He freezes entirely at the sound of a zipper, only moving when a now-familiar fuzzy maw pushes the pair of jeans into Xander’s arms, held very carefully in sharp fangs. And, yep, Smug Shaun is the same, human or wolf.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, you didn’t have to remind me I owe you a few kisses with a strip show.” It’s a mock complaint. “We’ll leave them here. How do you want to do this?” He carefully folds them, pulling the glasses out of a pocket, and places them on top of the nearest crate.
Shaun snarls softly, and Xander nods like he’d actually spoken. “Going first? Yeah, makes sense. We’ll be right behind you.”
Shaun jumps right over the crates, and Rebecca doesn’t exactly have a great view, but she does feel the splash of blood over her face.
“Holy shit. He hit the ground running, I guess.” Xan doesn’t sound too worried—at first. But then the tone of his voice changes. “Rebecca? We’re going.”
She follows him, and okay, yeah, Shaun’s going on a rampage, because there are two more wolf bodies, only those are definitely ripping wounds. The issue is, there’s two wolves headed his way, and he hasn’t noticed the one quietly sneaking up behind him.
“Oh, hey. Someone’s getting fired.” That seems like a non sequitur, particularly with the nonchalant tone, but when he breaks off, it quickly becomes clear. As does the fact that he’s obviously driven a forklift before, because it barely takes a few moments for him to turn it on and push it to the top speed. Which is faster than she would’ve thought a forklift could go, but then, he’s probably ignoring safety precautions, at this point. If the werewolf was going at top speed, he probably couldn’t catch it, but it’s trying to go slow and sneaky, so it just manages to turn and swipe at the forklift before Xander lifts the forks and drives it straight into the side of one of the crates. Wood splinters everywhere, accompanying a spurt of blood, and Xander dives out. It’s still going, so he didn’t turn it off, which is probably the best decision—the dazed werewolf is probably going to have more trouble getting it off that way. Assuming it’s mostly intact in there. It looks like he hit that roll particularly hard, so he might be bruised, but he definitely wasn’t driving that anywhere else.
Between her and a few of the Slayers counter-sniping, they manage to deal with one, which just leaves the third. Not an issue, apparently, as they glance over and Shaun’s maw is very bloody. He throws his head high in a howl, and there’s a moment where he glances over at them and doesn’t seem to recognize them and it’s Rebecca’s turn to freeze. Xander doesn’t have a sensible sense of fear and seems to have decided this is the proper time to quip. “Hey, now you owe me, too.” Shaun’s eyes darken, anticipatory, even predatory, but the human kind of predatory, not the wolf kind, and his tail begins to wag. He doesn’t look like he’s eyeing them for the best way to rip them apart anymore.
They don’t have to go that much further to reach the spot where the Slayers had been holding out. “We are going to have words, Mister,” Willow greets them, pointing a finger, and Xander just moves out of the way of the next fired arrows. “You’re lucky with the whole ‘crush’ and ‘figuring out the transformation’ and ‘good shot’ and ‘decided to follow you’ stuff.”
“Yeah, I know.” It’d almost be nonchalant if he wasn’t really meeting their eyes. “What’s up with the ‘one big push’ plan?”
“Keep protecting the ‘camp’ and hope this works.” She reaches out, and four other Witches hold her hands as they start chanting, the energy building like a growing storm. The enemy werewolves seem to have realized something was going on, or maybe they overheard, because they’re making an extra push, complete with what look like actual formations. It’s lucky they’ve got what looks like a magical shield of some sort over the top, or the werewolves would’ve jumped down into the middle a while ago. Instead they just kind of skitter over what looks like thin air and fall on the other side.
And then a burst of energy bursts outward from the circle and all of a sudden they have naked Shaun again, only this time it doesn’t look comfortable. Well, not like any of the other ones have, either, but this time it especially looks like it hurts. He convulses, and Xander barely keeps him from bashing his head against the floor. And there’s more of the bone-breaking type of sounds that had happened the first time.
One of the Slayers holds out a jacket casually, and Rebecca uses it to cover Shaun, since Xan has his hands full. “I think I can sacrifice a little fashion for a good cause.” Like this kind of thing happens all the time.
“T-truce!” a voice calls weakly. Apparently their plan worked.