Shaddyr's Eclectic Collection > Pretender Fanfiction > Buffy Fanfiction > Shaddyr > Convergence
Convergence
part 5
by Shaddyr
"That'll be three bucks."
Spike smiled across the bar at Willie. "Put it on my tab."
The unkempt bartender just scowled as he set the pint down in front of the vampire. "You already owe damn near fifty bucks, Spike."
"Willie, Willie," Spike admonished with lazy grin," You *know* I'm good for it."
The snitch grumbled, shot one more glower at Spike for good measure, then ambled off to go serve another customer.
The blonde vamp picked up his drink, turned around on his barstool and leaned back on one elbow. There didn't seem to be a lot going on tonight. He took a long pull on his beer and debated whether or not to join the ever-present poker game. He was sure Clem would front him a kitten or two.
His train of thought was rapidly derailed by the woman who blew into the bar like she owned it. After goggling for a split second like every other male in the place, he composed himself. Taking a sip of his drink, he watched her surreptitiously over the rim of the glass.
The leggy brunette didn't waste any time. She gestured to Willie, who just about fell over himself to get to her. Leaning across the counter, she spoke quietly to the barkeeper. Willie's face twisted into a lewd smirk as he responded. Spike saw the woman's eyebrow twitch, and then watched in amusement as her hand shot out, grabbed the front of Willie's not-so-clean shirt and pulled him halfway across the bar.
He took another sip of beer and smiled. This was better than the telly.
Irritation had obviously gotten the best of the woman, because this time Spike could plainly hear what she was asking over the surrounding bar noise.
"Look at me like that again you scum sucking bottom feeder, and I'll put a bullet in your kneecap. Say that again, and I'll have your balls for earrings. Now let's try this one more time. Are you the information guy or not?"
The cool, deadly voice sent a tingle up the vampire's spine. He had suspicions that it was sending a warm trickle down Willie's leg.
"Uh, I.. yeah-"
She let him go with a shove, then pulled a photo out of her jacket. "Have you seen this man?"
The quivering barkeeper took a quick glance. "N-no, never seen h-him before."
She leaned in closer. "You're certain?"
Willie nodded frantically.
"There's only one more thing, then." There was a frightening finality in her tone, and Willie swallowed convulsively.
"Err... w-what?"
She tapped one perfectly manicured, red painted fingernail on the countertop in front of her. "Double scotch. Neat. And don't give me any of that cheap crap. Single malt."
Ten seconds later, a heavy glass full of fine scotch sat before the woman. Spike marveled. He'd never seen Willie move that fast. Other than when someone was trying to kill him, of course.
She intrigued him and he stretched his sense to their limits, curious to learn more about her. Through the stink of Willie's sweat and terror, he caught a whiff of her scent. A top note of swagger, full of adrenaline and a little alcohol - this wasn't her first scotch of the evening, apparently. Under it, he was surprised to discern a bottom note of fear. Both were blended well with a middle note of tough bitchiness, which resulted in one hell on an intoxicating perfume. It was almost a pity he didn't feed anymore - she would have been exquisite.
It looked like the fun was over, though. He finished his beer, set down the glass and decided to pass up cards in favour of tonight's Movie of the Week. As he strolled past the brunette, he glanced down at the picture that she'd left lying on the counter. His eyes widened when he saw the pretender staring mournfully out of the photo.
Without any more obvious reaction, he kept moving out of the bar, then slipped into the alley to wait for her. A smile lighted on his lips as he considered this new development. So *that* was the Miss Parker the ponce had been talking about. The hyper intelligent git had left out a few things - like the bitchiness that made Cordelia seem like Pollyanna, and killer legs that just didn't quit. Added a certain thrill to being hunted, he'd wager. He knew all about *that* in a close and personal way himself.
Spike kept to the shadows as he followed her. He'd thought about heading over to the Magic Box to give the Scooby Gang the heads up, but he really didn't want to loose track of her. So now here he was, skulking through alleys playing private dick instead of slouched in front of the telly with a mug of warm blood. All over some wicked bird he couldn't even bite. Bloody hell.
Across the street from him, the Parker stopped suddenly. She panned slowly around, eyes scanning until she was staring directly at him, still hidden in the shadows. He knew she couldn't see him, but her gaze never wavered. A split second later, a 9mm was aimed at him.
"Don't be shy." Her voice carried strong and clear with an implicit promise of bodily injury.
Spike grinned. Damn, she was good.
He casually sauntered over, pulling out his Marlboroughs and lighting up as he stopped in front of her. No sense passing up on a fag now that he'd been spotted.
"Not at all, luv." He favoured her with an insolent smile, then blew a smoke ring in her direction.
***
Parker watched the pale figure in the leather duster approach. As he'd drawn closer, she'd realized he was the one who'd been watching her in the bar. A voice in the back of her head screamed that something just wasn't right about this guy. She kept her gun trained on him.
"You've been pretty blatant about your interest all evening," she stated coolly, eyebrow cocked. "I'd advise you to give me a good reason why I shouldn't shoot you a brand new belly button."
She was a little nonplussed when his smile grew wider. "I bet you say that to all the boys."
He was flirting with her! Now she was definitely going to have to take out at least one kneecap. Even if he was rather attractive in a Kiefer-Sutherland-Lost-Boys kind of way.
"Why are you following me?"
Spike took a long pull on his cigarette, and ignored her question. "So, who's the bloke?"
She glanced around to confirm they were alone, and then narrowed her eyes. "What?"
"The fellah you're lookin' for?" he supplied helpfully.
Parker's expression went from confused to deadly. Now she understood. "Have you seen him?"
Spike smirked at her, took another drag, then flicked the cigarette away. "And what if I have?" he answered, insolence radiating from him.
Her aim had relaxed, the gun pointing at the ground during their verbal sparring session. Parker whipped it back up, settled the hand holding the gun into the palm of the other, and flicked off the safety "Where and when?"
He chuckled. "Well, hey now, what's in it for me?"
In three strides, Parker was in front of him. She grabbed the front of his duster with her free hand and shoved him against the nearby building, then stuck her 9mm right up under his chin.
"Maybe this little factoid escaped your notice, but *I'm* the one asking the questions here. You're giving the answers."
"Oooh, kinky. You like handcuffs too?"
A look of incredulity came to her face. "What part of 'I have a gun and you cower in fear' are you not getting?" she demanded.
The smirk was back. "Hmmm… I think that would be the cowering in fear part.
Parker just stared at him, completely nonplussed. After a moment, she backed away and slipped her gun back into its holster, shaking her head in disbelief. "I think I've just found Jarod's evil twin," she muttered under her breath.
"What's that you said?"
"I said, you couldn't possibly be a natural blonde. You are *far* too irritating."
He cocked an eyebrow and leered at her. "You know it, luv."
Parker flashed back briefly to Brigitte's use of the same word. She shoved him back into the wall, hard. "Don't call me 'luv'!"
Spike winced as his skull cracked against the brick wall. He rubbed the back of his head, then glanced up at her with a smile. "You like to play rough, eh pet? I like that in a woman."
Folding her arms across her midriff, she gave him a glare. "Have you seen him or not?" She struggled to make her expression more conciliatory. "What do you want? I'm sure I can make it worth your while to part with a little information."
He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I'm sure you can, pet."
Fury was evident on her face, but before she could get the next cutting barb out, he held up a hand. "Cor, but you're a feisty one. Look, ducks, why don't you buy me a drink and we'll talk, hmmm?"
Against her better judgment, Parker nodded. As they walked, she watched him warily. After the last several hours of fruitless searching, she was unwilling to lose the one lead she had. Add to that the fact she was in serious need of another shot of scotch, and better judgment flew straight out the window. She needed to keep her mind busy with finding Jarod, or worrying about something this smart ass might try. It would keep her mind from endlessly replaying the disturbing events from earlier in the day.
***
Buffy gave the Pretender walking beside her a sidelong glance and smirked for the umpteenth time that evening. She *so* loved winning fights.
Even Giles had agreed that given the increase in vampire activity, Jarod should have an escort back to his hotel. He had objected, of course. After Buffy had pointed out that he was an important player in the upcoming convergence and that she wasn't willing to let him get killed because of misplaced pride, he'd been rather miffed. He'd insisted he'd had plenty of experience eluding hunters. Willow mentioned that Miss Parker was limited to human strength and speed, and that vampires were a lot more dangerous, at which Jarod had muttered, "You obviously don't know Parker." At that point, Giles had put his foot down in his own inimitable way. After displaying broodiness on par with Angel's, Jarod had acquiesced.
They were cutting up a back alley behind Willie's when Buffy found herself slammed back against the brick wall, Jarod's body pressed ardently into hers like a lover's. She looked up at him in shock, but held her tongue when she saw him staring wide eyed towards the alley's entrance, fear evident on his face.
"Jarod, wha-"
His eyes were on hers. "Just trust me. And pretend."
And then he was kissing her. Her first instinct was to knee him in the groin and toss him into the dumpster. When that reaction passed, she realized that he wasn't pawing her, or trying to kiss her deeply, just smooth warm lips on hers, arms that held her close - a feigned image of intimacy. She slipped her arms around his neck, and then whispered against his lips.
"What the hell is going on?"
"Parker's at the mouth of the alley. She's with your friend, Spike. They'll see us if we try to move.
"So you needed to kiss me?"
He pulled back and she could see even in the dim light that colour had risen in his cheeks. "I - well, Zoe did that to me once when she was trying to hide from someone. It worked for her."
"Jarod, if they come down here, Spike will know. Vampire. Heightened senses."
He looked at her, curiosity asserting itself even in dangerous circumstance. "He'd be able to smell that there were humans, or that it was us specifically?"
It was Buffy's turn to blush. She had no intentions of explaining to the Pretender exactly why Spike would know her scent well enough to smell it through the ripe odor surrounding them. "Something like that.
After a glance over his shoulder, he removed her hands and pulled away from her. "They're gone." He sprinted down the alley. Buffy let out an exasperated sigh and followed him. Jarod stopped at the corner and carefully peeked around. "They're gone," he repeated, this time with consternation. He started down the street in the direction he'd seen his huntress and the vampire headed.
Buffy stepped up and put her hand on his arm. "Jarod, we are *not* chasing after them." She looked up at him beseechingly. "You can't take the risk that she might capture you. We *need* you."
He glared at her angrily. "But she's with a *vampire*!"
She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, a *chipped* vampire, don't forget."
He looked torn.
"God, I never thought that I would be saying this to anyone, but… you can trust Spike. He won't hurt her."
He took a deep breath, and then let it out, nodding.
"C'mon, Genius-boy, let's get you back to your hotel before we meet up with some vamps of the non-chipped variety.
The set back off towards the hotel.
"How the hell did she find me?" Jarod wondered aloud. "I didn't send her any clues. Hell, I didn't even know I was coming here until a few hours before I did. How on *earth* did she know where I'd be?"
Buffy had a bad feeling that nothing on earth had anything to do with it at all.
***
Not even ten minutes later, Buffy stood in the entrance of Willie's bar looking for any sign of Spike or Miss Parker. She wasn't disappointed. The two of them sat at the bar, with a nearly empty bottle of scotch and a shot glass each in front of them. Spike was pouring the tall brunette another shot as she approached.
"Look, you shit," the woman was saying unpleasantly, "Don't think you can get me drunk. You said 6 shots, this is 6 shots. I want some goddamn answers, and I fucking well want them now!" Buffy stopped short, her eyes wide with bemusement as she watched the woman toss back the scotch before slamming the shot glass back on the counter.
"We played your stupid game. Now," the brunette demanded. "Where. Is. Jarod?"
Before Spike had a chance to reply, Buffy put on her best Buffy-Bot impersonation and bounced up to the blonde vampire.
"Spike! Honey!" She slipped her arm around the startled vampire's shoulders, while giving Parker a brittle smile. She turned her gaze on him, eyes flashing warning. "What are you doing? I thought we were supposed to do that thing tonight. "
He understood the charade, but as he was never one to pass up on an opportunity, he pulled Buffy in close for a steamy kiss. Willie looked like he was going to have kittens. Parker looked like she was going to heave. And Buffy looked angry enough to rip him apart with her bare hands. God, he loved that girl!
"Hello, luv," he murmured before letting her pull back. "I was just aiding a tourist is all. Would have been on my way shortly."
After a private glare that promised pain and retribution, she glanced back up at the other woman to find Parker staring at her with a look of shocked disbelief on her face.
"What?"
For a moment, Parker thought that her mind must have been paying tricks on her. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, then blinked a few times before looking back up at the slender girl who had just added herself to the equation. After a second look, there was no doubt about it; she'd know that face anywhere. The woman standing next to the annoying blonde she'd been trying to pry information from was the woman from her dream.
"Just when I think this nightmare I call my life couldn't possibly get anymore bizarre, it suddenly does," Parker muttered as she pulled her 9mm. She leaned in close to Buffy, her jacket concealing the weapon from the rest of the room. "I *know* that you know Jarod. Don't even ask how, it's too fucking bizarre for words and you wouldn't believe me if I told you. But you *can* believe this. I'm going to get some answers toot sweet, or someone is going to lose a kneecap."
The two blondes stared at her silently, and Parker felt her hysteria threatening to rise. She jabbed the gun hard into the woman's abdomen and was glad to see that she winced.
"What the hell is *wrong* with you people? Do you *all* have a fucking death wish?" Parker hissed.
Spike tightened his grip on the woman's shoulder and his expression was grim. "I'd advise you to put away your gun, pet. You're not gonna like the consequences if you don't."
"I'm not going to..." she trailed off, dumbfounded. A second later Parker was right in his face, mere inches separating them. "Don't you get the gun thing now that it's pointed at your girlfriend?"
"I'm not his girlfriend," the young woman interjected testily.
Parker shook her head in wonder. "You fucking well ought to be, you're obviously just as whacked in the head as peroxide boy here is. Enough of this shit already. Just tell me where I can find Jarod!"
Spike studied the woman carefully. He was ready to take her out, and to hell with the pain, but it was obvious that she was no amateur. She'd likely put at least 2 slugs in Buffy's stomach before he could rip her throat out.
"Look, I really don't know where he is." His voice was even and calm, belying the fear in his gut. "But I can find him. Bring him to you."
"No deal, blondie." Parker turned her attention to Buffy. "I *know* you've seen him. I bet you know where he is too."
Buffy could feel her fury rising and instinctively tried assume a defensive stance. The cold metal that dug into her stomach reminded her to remain still. "And what if I do?"
"Then you tell me, and I leave you here with your fellow bottle blonde and you two can compare brain cells while I take Jarod back where he belongs."
"Back to the Centre you mean?"
"I've had about enough of you, little girl. I have had a shitty season, a crappy week and a hellish day culminating in this oh-so-fucked up conversation with the two of you. You do *not* want to get involved in this. Normally I would take pains to make sure civilians didn't get caught in the cross fire, but I've just. Fucking. HAD IT! So unless you wanna *be* the weakest link, give up his location and be happy I didn't put a slug in any part of your boyfriend's anatomy that you might want to make use of later."
Spike's eyes widened slightly. There it was again, stronger this time. Under the powerful bouquet of bravado and bluster, which carried with it a very real willingness to inflict some pain, was the cloying scent of terror. The woman was half crazed with fear. Something strange was going on. Like that was a bloody surprise here on the Hellmouth.
The three of them sat starting at one another, the moment dragging on into infinity. The tension threatened to snap spines, and make skulls explode. Parker's finger tightened on the trigger. Something had to give.
All three of them jerked convulsively at the jangling tone of a cell phone ringing. Parker took a deep, steadying breath before reaching into her pocket to pull it out and answer it.
"What?"
The two captives watched warily as one corner of Parker's mouth curved up in a wicked smile.
"Where?"
Vampire and Slayer glanced at each other, knowing that it could mean only one thing - someone working with Parker had located Jarod.
Parker hit the off switch and slipped the phone back into her pocket, before sliding off the barstool and re-holstering her weapon. "Looks like I don't need your help after all. I would advise you to stay here, though. You never can tell what might happen in a dark alley." With that parting shot, she was gone.
Buffy dove for the trap door to the sewer access near the storage area. She ignored Willie's complaints about disrupting his business and jumped down into the damp passageway, the ankle high water soaking through her tennis shoes in seconds. Spike splashed down beside her a moment later.
"Look, you -"
"Shut *up*, Slayer. I'm coming with you. That bint is bloody dangerous."
They set off at a dead run for the access tunnel to the Twin Palms Inn.
Jarod paced. 6 steps. Turn. 6 steps. Turn. He needed to be doing something. Dragging a hand through his hair with a sigh of frustration, he flopped on the bed and picked up another of the books that Giles had lent him.
It was all about magical rituals. The Watcher had said that he and Buffy had to be joined in some kind of arcane ceremony - it all sounded like a fantasy novel, with spells and ceremonies and such. He'd understood what Giles had explained, but it seemed so unreal. All of it did. Even having seen Spike show his vampiric face, having sparred with Buffy and felt first hand her unbelievable strength, his logical, ordered, literal mind was struggling to cope. He was beginning to understand Parker's need for scotch.
Speaking of his favorite huntress, it was time for him to find a more secure location. Hotels were far too visible. He was sure that Broots was searching for him in reservation and guest lists even now. He pushed himself off the bed and grabbed his bag. In a few short minutes, everything was neatly stowed away. He debated briefly over staying one more night, or moving immediately in spite of the risks associated with being out after dark in Sunnydale. A fist pounding on the door interrupted his musings.
"Jarod! Open up!"
At the sound of Buffy's voice, the pretender moved quickly to the door and pulled it open to find her and Spike standing in the hallway.
"What-"
"No time," the vampire bit out and tried to push past him, only to be repelled by some sort of unseen force field. He growled in frustration as Jarod glanced back and forth between the doorjamb and Spike.
"Invite me in," the blond demanded with a scowl. The astounded Pretender gave him a quizzical look.
Spike rolled his eyes as Buffy walked into the room and explained. "Vampires can't come into your home - or your hotel room - unless you invite them. Just like in the story books."
"Oh. Come in."
Spike stepped across the threshold and took a few steps in then stopped and looked around in surprise. He cocked an eyebrow at the dark haired man. "You were already planning to leave."
"Well, I thought-"
Buffy cut him off. "Good. Grab your stuff, lets go."
Jarod studied the two of them, then nodded and slipped his shoes on. "Parker?" he asked as he grabbed his laptop.
Spike shouldered Jarod's bag and nodded as the trio headed down the hallway and down the stairs. "That's one nasty bitch you've got after your ass, brain-boy. Can't say I blame you for runnin' for dear life whenever she gets within spittin' distance."
Jarod clenched his jaw, but the vampire saw the fire in his eyes and couldn't resist the urge to continue needling him. "Yeah, she's a right mouthy piece of work. It'd take a real man to put her in her place, I'd wager. I guess you're just not up for the challenge, eh mate?"
A sudden sharp pain shot through his shoulder as Buffy punched him. "Oi! Slayer! What the hell?"
"Spike, I know you can't help that you're a pain in the ass," she hissed at him through clenched teeth, "but could you just shut up until we get him out of here safely?"
"Ruin my fun," he grumbled as he pushed open the door that led the lobby. To find Parker about to step into the elevator.
"Oh, *bugger*!"
How the hell had they gotten here before her? How the hell had they gotten here without her being aware? She'd watched the street; they hadn't exited the bar until she was at least a block a way, she'd have known. God DAMN it, could *nothing* go right for her in the god forsaken shit hole?
"Stop right there!" she had her gun out and trained on the three of them. "Come on, Jarod, you don't want some innocent people getting hurt because of *you* now, do you?"
The blonde man stepped in front of Jarod and the woman and flashed her a smile. "Well you never know, luv - some of us really aren't all that innocent. And it might just be that we like a lil' pain. Keeps things spiced up, y'know what I mean?" He winked lasciviously, then shoved the other two back into the stairwell, and slammed the door behind them.
Parker screamed in frustration. She flew at him and landed a roundhouse that would have dropped any sweeper like a sack of bricks. His head snapped back with the punch and a trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth but still he stood, in front of the door, and smirked at her. His lips parted slightly and his tongue darted out to lick the blood away.
"You're a silly girl," he said, shaking his head with a sigh. "There are things going on that you know nothing about. That you don't *want* to know anything about." He took a step towards her, and the little voice of warning for earlier in the alley was back shrieking in full force. She tried to hold the gun steady before her, but the combination of the day's exhausting events and way too much scotch was finally catching up with her. He easily batted the gun from her grasp and sent it skidding across the floor.
"You think you can take me on, pet? You think you're the Big Bad, do you?" He stepped around her, behind her, looked at her from over her shoulder. "Yeah, you're scary alright, with that big gun and your bad assed attitude. I see why you have brain-boy on the run. But what, I have to wonder, has got the wicked witch so bloody frightened?"
Parker gasped, tried to step away from him. He was right behind her. She turned to face him, continuing to back away, and found herself backed right into the wall beside the stairwell. He stepped in, his body right up against hers.
"Get away from me."
"Make me."
He easily avoided her attempt to knee him. She tried to shove him away, but it was like pushing a granite block. She finally opened her mouth to scream.
"I'll kiss you if you do that."
Her mouth snapped shut.
He nodded. "Good."
"I'm not afraid of you."
He laughed, and leaned in close, and for a second Parker thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he sniffed lightly at her neck. "Oh, I think you're a lil' bit scared of me, but that's not the real fear. You're afraid of something, pet, you reek of it. The stink of recent terror clings to you like bad perfume. Something in this town frightens the hell out of you."
Her eyes went. "What are you, part dog?" she managed. Her Ice Bitch persona was having trouble reasserting itself. As she stared into his eyes, she could swear the bright blue was growing flecks of gold.
"That would be Oz," he remarked casually, confusing her. "Whatever it is that scared you luv, you'd do well to mind the warning. This is not a town you want to stay in unless you really need to. It's not a safe place to be."
"So I gathered. It doesn't matter. I have a job to do."
"Sod your job, little girl. Get the hell out while you still can."
"Are you threatening me?"
He moved his mouth over her ear, and the cool breath that carried his words to her was as unnerving as the message itself. "Just trying to help you stay alive."
She shivered as he pulled away from her and stalked across the lobby, leather duster billowing out behind him. She retrieved her gun, stuffed it in her holster and headed down the stairwell with the vain hope of getting some clue as to where Jarod had gone.
As she headed down the stairs to the parking garage, she wondered why everywhere his body had pressed into hers felt so damn cold.
***