Chapter Twelve: Exchange
Previously: Drusilla, Angel and the Slayer Army get into a wild rumble at The Forest. Willow managed to teleport everyone – on their side, plus Franco – out of the estate…
***
Buffy was all for running away, but before she could move, the water exploded, like a liquid mushroom cloud. Actually, it wasn’t that big of an explosion, but the suddenness of it gave the Slayer that impression. She knew what caused it.
Tierre Wolfson had jumped straight out of the sea and was now descending towards the beach. He landed perfectly, like a cat landing on its feet. He had the audacity to flick his hair back from his face, as casual as if he had just gotten out of the pool.
Buffy couldn’t remember ever feeling so furious… or betrayed. But as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t act on her homicidal urges just yet. Instead, Buffy just turned and ran, full-Slayer speed ahead, leaving Tierre to eat her dust. She hoped.
Tierre just watched the Slayer run. He went to pick up his jacket, vest and tie, glad that he’d taken them off before his surprise swim. He sat down and tugged on his socks and shoes, grimacing sullenly because he was forced to wear them when his feet were still wet. He stood up. Ugh. What a lovely way to end a lovely evening.
All of a sudden, a black shape materialized right in front of him. It was the shape-shifter who insisted that everyone call him Raven, because of his fondness for the black bird. His other name was also Eagle.
Tierre called him Chick.
“Chick! When did you learn to teleport yourself?” he asked.
The shape-shifter looked like he’d indulged himself too much in the party, although if asked, he’d have denied it vehemently. Chick claimed that birds of prey such as he weren’t very sociable. Yeah, right. The womanizing miscreant.
“I didn’t M-m-master,” he drawled sluggishly, “A witch did. The red-head. What was her name? It’s a tree’s name. Sycamore? Pine? Oak?”
“Willow,” Tierre corrected.
“How inventive of you, Master Tierre! Willow sounds just about right.”
“It is right, you drunken idiot. It’s her bloody name.”
“I’m not drunk, sir. Just woozy.”
“I care. You fought Willow?”
“No. I fought against Drusilla. Everybody else fought against the Council. Oh, and they took your father, by the way.”
Tierre sighed, “Bloody perfect.”
~*~*~*~
Oh my God, is he chasing me? Buffy couldn’t believe it when she realized that Tierre was running right behind her. That bastard! She was too far gone to feel fear or even just alarm. Tierre was fast. He had a big chance of catching her. Buffy almost hoped he would. That way, she’d have the perfect excuse to maim him for life.
They raced through the party. During the few minutes that Tierre had spent chatting with Chick, Buffy had reached out mentally for her friends. She was relieved to hear that they had succeeded in their mission. They had gotten into a very brief fight with Scarlet, but Willow had teleported them all before anyone could get killed. Yay, Will. Now all Buffy had to do was get back to the rendezvous point.
The two racing speed demons were all but a blur to the partygoers. They were so fast that Tierre flipped up the skirt of a woman he passed by. Her indignant screech followed them all the way until they were almost to the bridge.
Buffy stopped running all of a sudden, just when Tierre was practically on top of her. She bounced on the ball of one foot and whirled around in a spinning back kick.
Tierre caught her leg before she crushed his ribs and flipped the Slayer on to her back.
Buffy managed to throw her arms out to break her fall, and a second later and she was on her feet again. Tierre didn’t stay to pummel her to death as she’d expected him to. He kept on running.
Speed wise, Buffy was a horse. But Tierre was a cheetah. No, he was a different breed of animal altogether. It was like he was running on fast motion. He’d let her have the lead before just so he can see where she was headed. Now it had become obvious to him that the group with the amusingly self-baptized name of ‘Scoobies’ had gotten off the island.
Buffy began to feel despair as Tierre ate up the length of the bridge with his longer legs and impossible speed. She was reminded of Glory. Tierre was going to find her friends, she knew it.
Guys!, she cried, Go! Get out of here! He’s coming for you!
~*~*~*~
“Buffy?”
“Slayer?”
The Scoobies and Seyhan shared alarmed looks. They all heard Buffy’s panicked mental call.
“Buffy, where are you?” Giles demanded aloud.
On the bridge! For God’s sakes, get outta here now!
“Buffy, we’re not leaving without you!” Xander said defiantly.
You’re gonna have to, Xander. Get out of here before Tierre gets to where you are!
Angel and Drusilla shared a look. The female vampire was holding her bleeding shoulder where the bird creature had sank its beak. She looked like she’d been through a shredder.
“Are you all right?” Angel asked, feeling the instinctive concern of a Sire for his Childe.
She nodded weakly, “Tierre is coming,” she said softly.
The brooding vampire nodded, “Buffy is right. We should go. Not one of us is up to fighting him.”
“I am,” Seyhan declared.
“You’re wounded, too.”
“I’ll heal.”
“You go if you want to,” Drusilla said quietly, “But I’m not leaving until I see Tierre.”
Angel knew better than to ask any of the Scoobies to leave Buffy behind. He didn’t want to leave her, either, but he knew Buffy was thinking of everyone’s safety. The Slayers had piled into the three big vans they had used in getting to Summer’s Cove. It had been a precaution, just in case the residents of Summer’s Cove have been warned of their arrival and were on the lookout for suspicious teleportation portals. Angel made up his mind. He stalked to a van, wishing one more time that they hadn’t left the Porsche, and yanked the passenger door open.
Franco Scarletta glared at him. Angel had to give him credit. The man had no fear. Angel grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back among the Scoobies. Willow had tied her scarf around Franco’s temple. His shallow wound had stopped bleeding, but the vampire could still smell his blood. He had never been more tempted to break his own rules and drain a human being dry.
“What is it this time? You don’t know how to get out of this mess you created?” Franco asked scathingly.
“Shut up,” Giles spat at him.
They all looked expectantly up at the bridge, even Franco.
When Tierre, followed by Buffy, appeared, Xander whistled, “Jesus. Who needs cars if you can run that fast?”
~*~*~*~
Buffy’s panic hit the atmosphere at the sight of her friends still in town. She couldn’t have run any faster if she’d tried. She began to consider tackling Tierre.
Suddenly, Tierre skidded to a halt. Buffy didn’t stop, just kept running until she was with Giles and everyone else again. She saw Franco standing between Angel and Seyhan and understood Tierre’s sudden hesitation.
Tierre was breathing rapidly and it mollified Buffy, somewhat, to see that. She, on the other hand, felt like she was about to faint.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Tierre’s Cockney accent shifted to smooth and cultured in his barely controlled rage. He looked directly at Angel, sparing only a fleeting glance for Franco, enough to ascertain that he was all right.
“Winning,” Seyhan couldn’t resist gloating, “We have what we came for, Wolfson.”
“The Balancer, yeah? So what do you want with Franco?”
“Nothing,” Angel said, before Seyhan could say something they will all regret, “We’re leaving now, Tierre. Franco is just insurance. You know … to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”
“It won’t work,” Franco said calmly, “Our people will―”
“―Do nothing,” Tierre cut in. He ignored Franco’s surprised gaze, “You can leave unmolested. Just leave Franco here.”
Seyhan grinned, “No we will not. You see, we don’t believe you.”
Tierre nodded, “That’s fair. But what are you goin’ ta do wiv’ ‘im? He’s just goin’ to be a burden to you. He’s a very well-known man, easily recognized by the public. Look at him. He looks like you beat him up. Does the word ‘kidnapping’ mean anything to you?”
“Does the word ‘stalling’ mean anything to you?” Buffy said angrily, “He’s just trying to buy his people time.”
Angel started backing away, taking Franco with him. Franco’s eyes nailed Tierre, “Don’t let them leave Boston, Tierre. Don’t worry about me, I―”
“Quiet, sweetheart,” Drusilla cooed, moving away from the pack, in full view of Tierre. She looked at him, and for the first time, Buffy saw uncertainty in her lovely face.
A particularly evil sneer crossed Tierre’s features, “Drusilla, I thought you were dead. You just disappeared all of a sudden.”
“You know better than that, Tierre.”
“This must be really serious, then,” Tierre acted as though Dru hadn’t spoken, “You see, she only shows up when I’m about to die.”
Buffy went completely still at that. Her gaze flew to Tierre, looking for a trace of humor, a sign that he was kidding. But he looked deadly-serious. Her heart wrenched. Drusilla had visions all the time. She can see things happening beforehand. What had she seen? What was Tierre talking about?
“You wouldn’t happen to know the exact time of that, would you?” Seyhan asked sarcastically, “I would love to see it happen.”
For a fleeting moment, Buffy’s fist cried out for Seyhan’s face.
“Uh … guys? We better get moving,” Xander said urgently, “Because Tierre’s stalling tactic? It’s working.”
The Scarlet team in the woods, plus a few others from the dance floor, began to appear on the bridge. They were lead by the bird thing that had attacked Drusilla. The Scoobies hauled ass in earnest.
“Wait!” Tierre yelled, “Leave him here. I’ll go with you.”
“You’ll come with us, or we kill him right here,” Seyhan goaded.
“Do that, and there’s nothing that’ll stop me from tearing you apart,” Tierre’s soft promise was the most frightening thing Buffy had ever heard from him. She shuddered at the look in his eyes. Was that gold she just saw, flashing within the blue? She half-expected him to vamp out.
“You won’t have to, sir,” the bird called out angrily.
“You’ll just get your hands dirty. We’ll do it ourselves,” said another.
They had gotten close enough that they could be heard if they raised their voices.
“Stay where you are,” Tierre ordered. He turned back to the Scoobies, “Well?”
“Don’t listen to him,” Franco said, “He’s not thinking right.”
“Be quiet, old man,” Tierre grumbled.
“You be quiet, you impulsive brat,”
“Do it, Angel,” Drusilla said, “Let’s take Tierre with us.”
Franco saw Angel eyeing Tierre speculatively, and he lost it, “NO! Don’t you even dare! Tierre, stop trying to play hero and―ungh!” Franco collapsed, unconscious.
Seyhan waved his hand delicately, “He was starting to annoy me.”
Tierre frowned intently at the Vashkan, “I’ll make you pay for that,” he said simply.
Seyhan sniffed haughtily.
Tierre walked boldly up to them, “Chick!” he called over his shoulder.
“Sir?”
“Take my father home with you. Make sure he’s all right. When he wakes up, tell him I don’t want a war.”
Chick did as he was ordered. He picked up Franco from his undignified position on the ground and, giving in to temptation, shot an evil look at Seyhan.
Tierre grinned, “Go on now. You know you don’t have laser vision.”
“Master Tierre …”
“We don’t have a choice. They win for now. Take care of our guests, all right?”
The Scarlet group stared in disbelief as Tierre Wolfson willingly handed himself over to the Council team. As for the Scoobies, they couldn’t believe it either. Tierre didn’t once look back as they walked to the van.
“He’s up to something,” Xander whispered to Buffy.
“Shut up,” Drusilla hissed at him. She caught up to Tierre, who was walking beside Angel. Gliding gracefully, she endeavored to walk easily in their presence, unwilling to show any signs of injury or weakness, “How did you and the Slayer end up so wet?” she asked.
Tierre narrowed his eyes at her, “Get away from me,” he said softly.
Drusilla looked like she’d been struck by the last person on earth she had thought would hurt her. Biting her lip, she nodded her head jerkily, “I understand,” she murmured, before falling behind, taking up rear with Xander and Willow. She refused to look at Buffy.
But Buffy saw the pain in her eyes. Pain that the Slayer’s heart echoed.
Seyhan, who was on point, whirled angrily on Tierre, “You’re a cold-hearted bastard.”
“No I’m not,” Tierre smiled at him, "I’m heartless.” Seyhan never saw his fist, and would remember it only through the pounding headache he’d get later, when he woke up.
Angel caught Seyhan and glared at Tierre, who casually walked up to the second van, “What? He hit my dad!” the blond said defensively.
“Since when was Franco your dad?”
Tierre shrugged off the barbed comment and opened the door of the van. The Slayers inside stared at him.
He stared back, “Got room for one more?”
What followed was a stampede. The young girls shot him looks of cold fury as they moved to the other van. Their action making it clear that they’d rather be squished together than share any room with him. They held their noses in the air.
Tierre looked genuinely helpless, “I don’t think they like me very much.”
~*~*~*~
The ride out of Summer’s Cove was tense and rife with hostile pressure.
Xander was driving, and Giles and Willow sat beside him. Behind them, the unconscious Seyhan had his head on Drusilla’s lap. Drusilla was silent, her head against the window.
Angel and Buffy, the strongest two inside the van, sandwiched Tierre in the second-to-last row. The two were wet from head to toe, but at least they weren’t dripping. The wind had cured them of that somewhat during their crazy dash.
Tierre lounged lazily against the seat. He looked disgustingly comfortable in his surroundings and in his sodden clothes.
Buffy was like a statue. She had her arms crossed tightly beneath her breasts and she was pursing her lips so hard, they were bloodless.
Angel sat rigidly on Tierre’s other side, grateful for once that his heart no longer beat. Tierre would’ve easily picked up on the sound and known that he was …? No… not afraid. Angel wasn’t afraid of Tierre. But he was a moron, if he didn’t feel nervous.
What the hell was I thinking? Angel silently wondered. The truth was, with Tierre in the van, Angel felt as though they were the hostages, not the Brat King. He they were sitting right next to a ticking time bomb, a walking death wish, a living, breathing weapon designed solely for destruction …
Okay, now he was waxing poetic about Tierre’s murderous talents. Angelus, is that you?
There was no point in regretting the decision to accept Tierre in place of Franco. Tierre had offered himself in exchange, and Angel had simply grabbed the opportunity. He knew there would never be another like it. Drusilla had even vouched for it, and though partly insane, her survival instincts had always been sharp. At least this time, they had succeeded in getting Tierre away from Franco, from Scarlet, and maybe he will even―
“Angel, are you tryin’ ta think?” Tierre rudely broke into his thoughts, as usual, “D’you feel faint? Need to lie down or somethin’?”
Grrr… I forgot about that mouth, Angel glared at Wolfson, “Actually, I was wondering how you ended up swimming in your clothes, “ he shot back. Oops … too late. He forgot that Buffy was in the same state, too.
Tierre opened his mouth―
“I threw him into the sea,” Buffy announced proudly.
“You what?” Giles sputtered.
“Buffy!” Willow gasped.
“Way to go, Buffster!” Xander crowed.
Drusilla asked, “And how did you get so wet, Slayer?”
“I threw her in first,” Tierre smiled smugly at Buffy, “She has no originality. She just stole my idea.”
Buffy glared at Drusilla. The brunette merely smiled and murmured, “Oh, that explains it.”
“Oh, that explains it!” Buffy mimicked in a high falsetto. She knew it was childish, but at the moment, she really didn’t have any other comeback and she didn’t want Drusilla to have the final say.
“Wit-tay!” Tierre drawled.
“Shut up, Wolfson!”
“I can’t. I like the sound of my voice too much.”
“Obviously. I understand that you’re still enjoying the novelty of human speech, having just recently evolved from being a primate, but the rest of us would like to have some peace and quiet, if you don’t mind.” Buffy batted her lashes at him.
Tierre cocked his head to the side, and Buffy’s heart gave a little squiggle. God, even his mannerisms were familiar.
“Who writes your stuff?” he asked.
Buffy threw up her hands, “You know, you’re not even worth it. This is totally a waste of my time!”
“Oh, like, totally!” Tierre gushed, in a perfect imitation of Buffy’s California accent.
Spike used to do that, Buffy thought suddenly. He used to make fun of her hair, her vocabulary, even her nose. He never seemed to run out of clever retorts to parry her verbal thrusts. Even when he had been in love with her, he had never let her have the final word willingly. It was against his nature.
Tierre slouched, watching her insolently. He even sits like Spike Buffy thought wonderingly. She had always secretly envied Spike’s casual/cocky demeanor; his ability to be completely comfortable wherever he was, in whatever position, in whatever state. It was so …
Goddamn it, it was just so sexy!
And now here was Tierre, sitting like he didn’t have a care in the world, even though he was neck deep in enemy territory. He didn’t seem bothered that his damp hair clung to his temples and the nape of his neck, where they curled in tiny C’s and S’s; that his white shirt and black pants were soaked through, outlining the long, lean lines of his perfect body. He didn’t seem aware, (and had he been aware, would he have cared? ) that Buffy was contemplating rape right about now.
This was bad. Tierre was the very embodiment of all of Buffy’s memories of Spike; little snapshots of her all-too-brief time with him that she didn’t even know she’d kept sealed and protected in her heart. She’d thought she was starting to forget and let go. But she was wrong. If she was, she wouldn’t be sitting here, reliving every whispered word and every yelled insult as though they were still being spoken; wouldn’t know the feeling of the cool smoothness of pure, alabaster skin as though her hands were gliding over it right now―
“W-where …” Seyhan was finally waking up.
Buffy’s focus shifted to him as eagerly as Scotch tape would stick to paper, grateful for the distraction he provided, “Seyhan, hey, easy. How do you feel?”
Seyhan was still staring at Drusilla, trying to process why his head had been on her lap. At Buffy’s question, his brow furrowed, “My head … hurts,” he finally admitted.
“Maybe you should lie back down,” Willow suggested.
“Yes, of course. Rest a little more, Seyhan.” Giles seconded.
Angel reached over the seat and pressed a hand to Seyhan’s shoulder, making it look like he was encouraging the Vashkan to lie back down.
Unfortunately, it was at that moment that D’Harken’s eyes met Wolfson’s.
Tierre winked and said, “Did you dream of me, sweetheart?”
A collective groan escaped the other passengers of the van. They knew what was coming.
Seyhan lunged towards Tierre over the top of his seat. Tierre caught the Vashkan’s wrists and managed to stop Seyhan from throttling him. Seyhan lowered his head and headbutted the blond freak.
“Oh, Christ!” Tierre roared in pain. He shoved Seyhan to the side, and left Angel to struggle with the angry elf. He then buried his face in Buffy’s lap.
The Slayer squealed. She actually squealed.
“Stop it, both of you! Seyhan, no! You’re going to be the death of us!” Giles managed to crawl over to the back seat, furious and torn between wanting to stop the fight, and wanting to kill both of them. Why couldn’t Seyhan have more control? And why couldn’t Tierre behave himself?
“G-Giles?” Willow called uncertainly.
“Stay out of it, Will. That’s man’s work.” Xander said.
Willow rolled her eyes at him, “Please. That’s a job for a kindergarten teacher!”
“Is not!” Angel and Giles said simultaneously.
“Let go of me! I’m not going to kill him, I’m just going to reassemble his face!” Seyhan tried elbowing Angel off, but the vampire held onto his shoulders determinedly. Giles tried to help. Willow, worrying for her mentor, crawled to the back as well.
“Willow, what do you think you’re doing?” Xander twisted in his seat, trying to grab Willow back. At the same instant, Seyhan accidentally pushed Giles back and the Watcher fell against Willow, who fell against Xander’s searching arm.
“Ow!”
“Watch what you’re bloody doing!”
~*~*~*~
The Slayers inside the van ahead stared at the van following them, watching the vehicle’s erratic zigzagging, swerving this way and that.
“Think they’re okay?”
“Maybe we should pull over and check it out.”
They contemplated the option.
And then they said, “Nah… they must be just fine.”
TBC
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Author's Chapter Notes:
It's been a really long time, and I'm sorry for the delay. I have no excuses...I do have reasons, but I don't want to dump my problems on anyone. Thanks to all who reviewed, and to Chrissie, The LongSuffering! Thank you, pet!