tessarin (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} tessarin) wrote,@ 2008-02-26 19:54:00 |
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| Entry tags: | btvs_fic, faith, giles |
BTVSFIC - Gifts from Charing Cross Road - 15 2/2
Title: Gifts from Charing Cross Road
Author tessarin
Rating: 15
Character: Faith, Giles, OC
Summary: Faith and Giles return to London to search for an ancient Codex amongst London's bookstores.
Warnings; Language
Disclaimer: Buffy the vampire slayer is owned by Fox. All characters bar original characters are copyrighted by Fox and Mutant Enemy.
Author's Note: This fic is the sequel to 'Remembrance' and takes place immediately after the earlier fic and before the events in 'Running On'. Thanks to w00hoofor the beta and to empressvesica.
Part II
The press of bodies around her, moving in synch to the beat slowed her down as she forced her way off the crowded dance floor towards the exit.
"Coming through," she hollered as she squeezed through a cluster of club goers in pursuit of her prey, just in time to see the Vamp head towards the exit.
"Hey, darling," came the line from over her shoulder quickly followed by a hand on her shoulder.
She didn't have time for this, earlier in the evening the attention would have been appreciated even sought out, now he was just getting in the way.
"Not interested," she snapped brushing off the hand and shoving her way past another pair ignoring their complaints.
She felt the hand on her shoulder again and turned, snarling at the source, "If you want to be able to wipe your ass with that hand you'll quit. I said no, not interested. Take the hint and fuck off."
The clubber a tall blond reminiscent of Riley sneered and stepped closer before eyes bulging he stumbled to a halt.
"Now I tried to play nice but if you want to keep this," she glanced down to where her hand had his valuables in a vice like grip, she grinned, released her grip sending the preppy clone staggering backwards, a mumbled ’bitch’ his only complaint.
Faith ignored him, whirling back desperately trying to catch a glimpse of her mark, only the swinging of a door giving her any hint as to his destination. She pushed through, sending drinks and dancers flying, and dove through the swinging doors just about avoiding the straight arm the vamp had waiting for her.
"Slayer," he hissed before she flipped to her feet and kicked him across the corridor into the breeze block wall opposite.
"Right!"
Faith grinned reaching down grabbing his lapels and casually tossing him into the other wall.
The vamp growled and lunged forward his head smashing into Faith's stomach, sending her staggering backwards.
"Bitch," snarled the Vamp as her knee connected with his chin, flipping him onto the floor.
"Now stay put and tell me what I want to know and I'll make it easy on you," growled Faith straddling the Vampire and pinning him to the floor.
"Fuck you, bitch. They know you're here now. No way are they telling you what you want - your precious Council is a bust in this town now."
He heaved upwards throwing Faith to one side, grabbing her arm and spinning her into the wall.
Faith flipped her head back, smashing the vamp’s nose, causing him to howl and reel backwards in pain, before she kicked backwards, sending the vamp flying into the opposite wall.
As the vamp bounced off and staggered towards her she slammed her stake through his heart.
"Crap," she exclaimed as the dust swirled around before settling on the floor.
Yet another fucking bust in her search. Three nights of patrolling, clubbing and the latest of twelve slayings and not a single fucking lead. Clearly turning this town over was going to be harder than she thought. Problem was she only had a week.
She glared in the direction of the fire doors leading back into the club, wondering whether another trawl of its floors either for vamps or other distractions was worthwhile. But the bastard vamp had torn her top and she could feel the beginnings of a thick lip.
Maybe a quick patrol would turn up another vamp or something; that something quickly revealed itself in the form of a misshapen head the peaked round the fire door at the end of the passage.
"Psst. Hey Slayer..." The voice was soft quavering and emanating from darkness that lay beyond the propped open door leading to the alley at the back of the club.
"What?" snapped Faith, her eyes picking out the silhouette of a small demon that cowered shivering in the darkness.
"You're her, aren't you? The Slayer?" asked the demon backing away a little into the darkness as Faith approached.
"Yeah," replied Faith her grin getting wider as she got a better look at the demon.
"I hear you're looking for some information on a dealer, a particular type of dealer," said the demon.
Faith recognized the type now, just like Buffy's pet Clem, small floppy ears and overlapping flaps of skin, supposedly harmless apart from to kittens.
"Yeah, what's it to you?" asked Faith.
"Just I can help," replied the demon his smile showing a row of small pointed teeth.
"Fine, well let's say I don't slay your ass and you tell me what I want to know," threatened Faith stepping closer and glaring at the demon who blanched.
"Hey fair's fair. I didn't need to let you know I was here and this is a big town, Slayer. You're not going to find anything without a little help," replied the demon quaking in fear.
"Okay, no kittens but I'll give you a pass," replied Faith, "Now tell me what I want to know."
*******
"Any progress with your negotiations?" asked Marcus.
"A little. We may have access to the Codex sometime soon," replied Giles.
"I'm surprised you're not involving your Slayer in this. I'm sure she could provide a necessary weight to the diplomacy. The nobility were often prickly in their relationships with the old Council you know. I dread to think how they will react to this new Council of yours, Rupert."
"She's not actually my Slayer, Marcus, although I have made the offer, but given her lack of reaction, I'm afraid she hasn't reacted too well to it," replied Giles, “As for the search for the codex, I have asked her to keep an eye out."
"Problems?" asked Marcus.
"You could say that. Let's just say that Faith has been betrayed too many times by the Council. I fear she may never allow anyone to be her Watcher, least of all me," replied Giles.
"She may surprise you, Rupert. She's not unlike my Evelyn, from the little I have seen of her," ventured Marcus a hint of melancholy in his voice.
"Really?" asked Giles, surprise clear in his tone.
"Absolutely! Although you're a far lighter task master than I. I wouldn't have let my Slayer go gallivanting all hours of the night in these dreadful clubs, listening to the truly abominable music kids listen to these days."
"You should be thankful Buffy isn't here then," grinned Giles.
"Quite. And how is the esteemed Slayer?" griped Marcus.
"Well, doing some work in Rome actually at the moment," replied Giles frowning at his colleagues tone.
"No offence meant, Rupert," replied Marcus, holding a liver spotted hand up in apology, "Have you given any thought to the team you're going to place in London? I'm not familiar with any of the girls myself, but I do have a number of candidates who may be able to replenish the ranks of the Watchers."
"Really? I’ve had some brief discussions with Buffy. Unfortunately the agents of the First were very thorough here," sighed Giles.
"Good, I'll pass on the list. You may wish to ask Miss Lehane when she returns to take a look at these disturbances," suggested Marcus.
"Disturbances?" asked Giles.
"Yes. Apparently something has been causing rather a ruckus in the past week. It has got all the demons spooked about something nasty stalking the streets of London. Whilst a certain thinning of London's demon population is to be desired, what with the power vacuum," said Marcus.
"True, but you're right. I'll ask Faith to check into it. She'll probably be happy to do a little patrolling," replied Giles.
********
"Faith, I'm glad I caught you," said Giles.
Faith could see the blush on Giles' face as he tried to look anywhere but at her. She grinned saucily as he removed his glasses.
"So, what's up, Giles?" she drawled.
"Going out tonight?" he asked his flush drawing forth a throaty laugh.
"Yeah, thought I would hit the clubs. Get some in, if you catch my drift," she smirked anything to throw him off her true purpose.
She could tell she had succeeded as Giles practically had a heart attack when he finally focused on her ensemble, a black skirt little more than a belt and a halter top that left plenty of her midriff bare.
"Ah, I was wondering about patrol. We've had some rumours about something big and scary coming to the surface in the….," he asked trailing to a halt.
"Sorry Jeeves. Maybe later? Got more important things to attend to." She shot Giles a sexy grin before pulling the door to the shop closed behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed, yes, Giles was standing there open mouthed and not following her.
Instead of turning onto Charing Cross road or heading off to Leicester Square, she headed past a couple of cafes and the guitar shop towards where the beat up mini cab waited for her.
Clav was nestled in the back, scrunched down behind the back seat, and the cabbie a tall guy with a buzz cut gave her an appreciative once over as she slumped into the back seat.
"Keep your eyes on the road, buddy," she ordered as she grabbed the bag Clav shoved over and started to change out of her clubbing clothes into something a bit more suitable for what she had in mind.
"So we all set?" she asked.
"Yes, but you promise no slaying?" asked Clav.
"Yeah I promised, didn't I? As long as no one messes with me and coughs up the name I'm after then everything will be five by five," she snapped, wriggling into a pair of black jeans.
She glared at the little demon that shifted nervously as the cab wound its way down Long Acre Road and past the bustling Covent Garden which Faith had been surprised to find wasn't actually a garden. The busy streets of London, full of tourists and theatre goers, played out like a night time feast in front of her eyes before the cab drew to a halt just off Drury Lane pulling into a sheltered small alley between two old buildings. The cabbie clambered out, taking up station at the end of the alley to keep a look out, whilst Clav led Faith towards a manhole cover that lead into London's sewer system.
The ladder was encrusted with a thin layer of rust and Faith squeezed through the opening and down into the cramped brick lined sewer. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of sewage and runoff from the streets above, a faint murmur of the road and foot traffic filtering down the various grates and drains to provided a distant commentary on the city life playing out over their heads.
"Where now?" she asked.
"We need to get to the deeper sewers and then you will see," replied Clav beckoning her forward, "Do not worry; they're not all this cramped. The deeper ones have had much work done recently which has made life difficult."
Faith grimaced, hunching over, and followed after the demon careful to keep her feet on the small walkway that lined one side of the brick tunnel. Faint and ancient graffiti and the occasional loose brick all bore testament to the age of this sewer run.
She could feel the downward slope and she was grateful for Clav for leading the way as this place was a fucking maze. She had lost track of the number of small tunnels and intersections they passed. Some looked fairly modern; others looked like they were so fucking ancient they would have been built before there were Lehanes in the America's.
The age off this place was finally getting to her but at least the confinement, the depth and her exertions was finally starting to warm her up. She grinned, wondering how B was finding Rome's sewers. Were they creeping her out like these were doing to Faith? They were so fucking cramped compared to the sewer systems of Sunnydale or even Boston and, hell, she thought some of that was pretty old. No room to fight. Still, she was down here for a reason and she wasn't leaving until she had what she came for.
"This way, Slayer," grinned the Clem clone as they arrived at the intersection of three large sewers. Between them there was a small vertical crack in the brickwork and what looked to be a tunnel hand-dug through the clay soil. She had to slide in sideways to make her way through and she was thankful that her Slayer sense didn't seem to indicate that anything was going to jump her. Still, her heart was thumping like a crazy by the time she slid out the other side, emerging into a large concrete lined tunnel.
The change in the air was immediately apparent, a cold breeze was blowing from somewhere carrying with it the sounds of distant conversation and raising a faint sheen on her skin as her sweat cooled.
"What is this place?" she asked.
"An old part of the underground closed off for years," answered Clav, jumping down onto the old track way and heading off down the tunnel.
"There's an old station up ahead. Not really been used since the war and before you ask I mean the Second World War," he huffed. “Anyway, the Old Down Street station was used by Churchill in the war. He called it the Burrow, you know. Now it's occasionally used as a meeting place for the demon and human parts of London's underworld."
The floppy eared demon paused to allow Faith to catch up before a toothy grinning split his face. "You need to be careful, Slayer, as whilst your presence has scared them, if you push too hard they will forget their differences and come after you."
"I get it. I only want a name - someone who can source or locate what I'm after - and then I'll be gone," replied Faith, jumping up onto the abandoned platform and following.
"There's a surface level entrance but it's at the top of a very long spiral staircase. Plus it's usually crawling with Vamps," explained Clav, rapping heavily on a mesh doorway and uttering something in a language Faith couldn't understand.
The door swung open and Faith strode through ignoring the snarl from the Fyarl demon guarding the doorway.
"Can it, boy, or Clav or no Clav, I'll rip your horns off," she growled.
The huge hulking demon stepped forward before a barked command from the rear of the large tunnel caused it to subside.
Faith was used to every eye being turned her way when she walked into a joint. Usually it was a rush and it still was, just not in the same way. Normally it was lust fuelling the lingering gazes or quick glances.
Now it was fear.
Their bogey man had come to pay them a visit and London's demons were scared. She grinned and stepped forward into the subway tunnel sending a couple of six legged demons skittering, their chitenous legs making a gross tippy tappy sound on the floor of the tunnel, in their efforts to get away from her.
"I'm looking for something," she called out to the assembled multitude.
Only silence greeted her although she saw a few demons and humans cast hostile glances in her direction.
Crap. So much for this idea. Even she knew she couldn't beat the crap out of this many demons, not without getting her ass handed to her.
"Final chance. I'm looking for a book dealer," she shouted.
Still no answer, in fact some of the bastards turned their back on her and went back to their conversations or drinks.
"Fuck this," she growled. "Come on, Clav. Let's get out of here."
She glared at a vamp that stepped across her path, her eyes narrowing and a taunting smile playing on her lips. The vamp actually fucking blanched when his ‘ho whispered in his ear and couldn't scuttle out the way fast enough.
Faith pushed past the Fyarl demon and dropped down off the platform, her eyes stinging, but she could hear Clav calling her, asking her to wait up.
"What?" she snarled whirling round causing the floppy-eared demon to tumble over and his companion to suddenly sprout a load of spikes out his face.
"Please don't kill us," howled the demon.
Clav picked himself up and shuddered, "This is Reed. He's a dealer in antiquities, including books, and I think he has what you're looking for."
"You sure? ‘Cause if you're yanking my chain…" growled Faith.
"No absolutely not, Slayer, and if not - I have the skill set to locate it. If it exists, of course," replied the demon in plumy English tones right off the set of Masterpiece Theatre.
"Great. So how much are we talking?" she asked, praying she had enough.
"Oh, I'm sure you can afford it," he answered voice quavering. "I just need you to take care of a little problem."
"I'm listening," replied Faith.
*******
The doorbell chimed its tone long and sonorous, its gravity reminding Giles more of a clock or a church bell than the entrance to a private residence.
A private residence that spoke to the wealth of the woman he was coming to visit. Old money, a little down at heel to be sure, the peeling white paint on the columns flanking the doors of the townhouse and the heavily shrouded windows suggested that.
He pulled again on the bell pull, stepping down one of the worn steps as the heavy black door swung open and a large hulking man appeared in the doorway. He looked like he had been squeezed into his butler’s uniform and his roughly shaven head immediately put Giles in mind of Igor.
Giles reached into his pocket withdrew his card and handed it to the doorkeeper.
"Rupert Giles. I have an appointment with her grace."
The butler turned the card over, carefully examining it, his little finger on his left hand a mere stub and the rough calluses and worn skin testament to a hard life. Somewhere in Africa, Giles surmised, going from the wrinkles and various sun spots that dotted his hands.
"This way please, sir." The reply hinted at a childhood in the valleys, and of misty mountains shrouded in heavy fog and illuminated by the chorus of human voices.
Giles followed, handing over his coat and taking a seat in the main entrance room. Scions of the Ashingford family stared at him from the walls, obviously an attempt to intimidate would be visitors or impress on them the power and grandeur of the family.
The Duchess didn't keep him long; she stormed in, a small old lady, a whirlwind of white haired and entitlement. Everything from the fine cut of her clothes to her understated jewelry just spoke of the understated good taste that the upper echelons of the Watchers Council tried to ape, if they themselves were not drawn from the old landed families.
Giles, despite wearing his finest Saville Row suit, found the rebellious Ripper inside of him still despised it. Hypocrisy for sure, but at least he was playing an honest role whilst the Duchess was presenting a front to obscure how far her family had fallen. Otherwise he knew he wouldn’t have been accepted here.
“Your grace,” he said, rising to his feet and taking her hand.
“Mr. Giles,” she replied, her tone completely lacking in any warmth.
“Thank you for seeing me,” said Giles, sitting as Lady Frieda gave her assent.
“Tea?” she asked.
“Thank you,” replied Giles.
Giles waited as the maid poured tea into a service of the finest Dalton china before setting out a silver cake tree. He waited for the duchess to take her cake before following likewise.
They exchanged small talk about the weather, the congestion and other inconsequential matters, all the while skirting the issue that had brought him here.
“So Mr. Giles, shall we get down to business?” said Lady Frieda.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” replied Giles.
“So tell me why, exactly, I should give you access to the codex,” asked Lady Frieda.
******
"So the negotiations were successful?" grinned Marcus as Giles lovingly lay down the great tome inscribed with prophecies relating to the Slayer line.
"Quite," replied Giles with a faint smile.
"What swung it in the end, if I might ask? Frieda can be a frightful bore and I've only see glimpses of this when they deigned to lend it to us. Hardly surprising, since it has been in the family since the 10th century," commented Marcus, wincing as he hobbled over and ran a loving hand over the leather cover of the tome.
"Actually, I'm not sure," replied Giles, his tone thoughtful.
"You didn't actually have to threaten the visit by a Slayer team then?" laughed Marcus.
"Actually no. In fact, the Duchess was quite eager to gift me the book. She practically forced it on me," answered Giles, his tone musing.
"Hmmm, that's rather worrying isn't it?" ventured Marcus.
"That's what I was thinking," answered Giles.
********
"You said it was a fucking small problem," screamed Faith as she sailed through the air, slamming into the wall of the great stone lined chamber again.
Her breath was coming in short pants now and she was certain she had cracked a couple of ribs. Still, the sucker was pretty beat up too, staggering round the gothic arches of the great hall screeching in agony, its final snake-like head snapping at where it thought she was.
She glared over at the fink Reed. If she didn't want what he had promised her she would have already iced his ass.
Instead she ran, jumping over the wildly swishing tail of the demon, and clambering up its back. Just one last fucking head and she would be done. Her sword was bloody and felt like it weighed a ton. The fight had been going on for while now and the adrenaline rush was wearing off; she needed to finish this sucker and quick.
"Over here," she hollered, rolling off to one side as the snake-like head filled with teeth the size of her hand snapped at where she had just been.
She sidestepped and slashed the sword down, decapitating the last head, just managing to dance out of the way of the wildly thrashing neck as the demon corpse crashed to the ground.
She stood there wincing as she regained her breath before turning sword out towards the pair of small demons.
They regarded her with a mixture of horror and awe on their faces. Reed the Brachen demon hurried to one side, quickly coming back with a brown paper bag which he thrust into Faith's hands.
"There. As we agreed. I managed to locate it in the possession of a Miquat demon. Had to do a bit of divination, but don’t worry there’s no extra charge. Sorry it's a little damaged," he grinned, watching nervously as Faith checked the contents and then relaxing when her cheeks dimpled.
*******
"Interesting evening?" asked Giles, glancing up from his paper as she hobbled into the living room. The climb up the three flights of stairs had been a killer, each step causing a fresh bout of pain to flash out from her ribs.
"Yeah, you could say so," sighed Faith, lowering herself gently down into the chair.
"Time for a change of wardrobe I see," said Giles from behind his paper, although Faith could hear a touch of amusement in his voice.
"How can you tell? Looked to me you were trying to look anywhere but at me earlier," replied Faith.
"Well, there wasn't much to look at," mused Giles. "So did you find anything?"
"What? At the club?" replied Faith. "Nah, nothing."
"I meant on the patrol," answered Giles, putting the paper down on the coffee table and fixing her with an exasperated glare.
"This and that."
"Really, Faith! I can see you've obviously been involved in something more strenuous even than that gyrating you and Buffy insist on calling dancing," snapped Giles, clearly irritated.
"Found what I was looking for," she replied, shrugging and dumping the brown slightly blood stained package on to the table.
Giles flashed a worried look in her direction as he caught sight of the bruised ribs and the grazes on her arms. He hesitated in the process of reaching for the package, fingers grazing the edge of the brown paper bag before he withdrew them.
"Get your top off," he ordered, moving over to a cabinet and getting out a first aid kit.
Faith complied, resisting the urge to engage in a ribald suggestion as that would only earn her a snappy reply. She didn't want that. It was surprising, creeping up on her like this, but she actually wanted Giles' approval. She winced as his fingers probed her side.
"They're only bruised thankfully, so you should be okay by morning. Now, let me see to those cuts and bruises," he explained.
The silence was comforting, like a warm and familiar blanket wrapped around her, as Giles tended and cleaned her wounds before stepping away and allowing her to pull her top down.
"So I take it, it was you then shaking up the underworld? I did wonder whether you might be searching for the codex a little aggressively," ventured Giles.
"Guess so. Although it might have been the hydra that I sliced and diced earlier," replied Faith.
"A hydra," queried Giles unable to contain the excitement that leaked into his tone.
"You done? 'Cause if this can wait till morning, I'm ready to hit the sack."
"Certainly. A full debrief can wait until morning," grinned Giles, before calling out as Faith turned to leave, "Oh Faith, you forgot your package."
"It's not mine; it's yours," she replied.
"Really? It's not the codex, is it? I mean, as far as we're aware, there is only one copy," he asked.
"Yeah," she shrugged, unable to keep the grin from dimpling her cheeks.
Giles slid the book out of the bag, his eyes widening in wonder, before he glanced over at her, a beaming smile creasing his face.
"How….where did you find it?" he asked, his voice husky with the emotion of a cherished memory brought back to life.
"Just lying around," she replied, "Sorry about the blood - I kinda got jumped on the way home."
She paused, shifting nervously on her feet as Giles looked at her, "It is the right one, isn't it? I mean you said…" she stumbled to a halt, uncomfortable at the emotions welling up.
"Yes. Thank you," he choked out as his quivering hand gently traced the burnt and half torn cover of Faith's prize.
"That's wicked cool," she grinned.
"You know that Watcher thing?" she ventured.
"Yes?" replied Giles.
"Yeah, well I kinda think I like the idea."
Giles looked over at Faith as he gently lifted opened the cover of the slightly blood stained annual. His finger tracing the dedication on the fly page, "To Rupert", and beyond that to the lantern-chinned hero and colorful pictures of rocket ships.
A childlike grin gradually illuminated his features as he devoured every word, every image, and every vision of a world of the future.
It was a world full of hope and heroes - the world of Dan Dare - a world of his childhood he had thought lost to his duties as Watcher. A world his Slayer had thought to gift back to him at heavens knows what risk to herself.
As he read further and pondered her offer with her watching him from the doorway a playful grin playing on her lips, he realized that this was not the only gift Faith had given him this night on Charing Cross Road.
