Quickened
by P.H. Wise
A Buffy crossover fanfic
Chapter 6: The Education of Duncan MacLeod
Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy. I don’t own Highlander. I don’t own Angel. Please don’t sue me. I’m only a poor starving writer. I have no money.
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At the offices of Wolfram and Hart, a group of... I hesitate to call them ‘people...’ well, a group of them sat around a wooden table in a fairly Spartan conference room. An attractive thirty-something named Lilah Morgan sat at the head of the table, with Gavin at her side. The others at the table watched her expectantly, a mixture of fear and respect in their eyes.
“Gavin,” said Lilah, glancing at the handsome young oriental man at her side. “Care to explain why you felt it necessary to request an emergency meeting?”
All eyes turned to the young man, who cleared his throat and placed a tabloid newspaper on the table.
‘GIRL MIRACULOUSLY RETURNS TO LIFE!’ the headline proclaimed with a picture of the Slayer – Buffy Summers – displayed prominently on the cover.
Lilah smiled, but it wasn’t a particularly pleasant smile. “You requested an emergency meeting to deal with a tabloid headline?”
Gavin shook his head. “No Ma’am.”
He produced a thick file filled with papers and placed on on top of the paper. It hit the table with a surprisingly loud ‘whoomp.’
“This is our file on Buffy Summers, one of the two current Slayers” He removed several copies of a paper from the file that he had set aside for this purpose earlier.
One of the others – a middle aged man in a business suit – frowned. “Slayers? Plural?”
“Long story.”
Lilah smirked. “Miss Summers drowned. Another Slayer was called. Miss Summers was then revived via CPR.”
Gavin grimaced. “But apparently not that long.” He handed copies of the paper to everyone at the table. “Now, take a look at this. Buffy Summers died – in the permanent sense - in the spring of 2001. She came back to life some three months later. Now, as was mentioned, she’s died before, which is probably why her second death and subsequent recovery was not initially remarked upon. But this report... this was available six months ago. I’m surprised that Linwood never did anything about this.”
“I’m not,” said Lilah.
The others laughed politely.
Gavin waited for Lilah’s nod before continuing. “According to this report provided by our mystics division, Willow Rosenberg cast the Spell of Life to resurrect the Slayer.”
The eyes of the others in the meeting room widened. Silence hung in the room for a long moment before any of the department heads at the meeting summoned up the courage to speak.
“Are you telling me,” another man - Mr. Veras - began, “That a child playing at witchcraft from some insignificant mall town successfully invoked Osiris?”
Gavin nodded. “Miss Rosenberg is hardly a child ‘playing at witchcraft,’ however. At present, she is the single most powerful witch in the western hemisphere.”
“But... how the hell did she get her hands on the last Urn of Osiris!?”
“Apparently, she bought it on Ebay.”
“EBAY!?”
Gavin nodded.
“Mr. Veraz,” said Lilah, “Control yourself.”
Mr. Veraz went pale, and then nodded faintly.
“How is this significant?” Robertson asked.
Gavin and Lilah exchanged looks.
“I’m sure we’re all familiar with the Children of Osiris,” said Lilah. At the nods of the others, she continued.
“The Spell of Life is ancient, forbidden magic. In theory, it can be used to resurrect a deceased human being by linking their spirit to the Quickening, effectively transforming the human in question into a Child of Osiris.”
She glanced at Gavin and gave him a nod.
Gavin picked up where she had left off. “According to our records, the spell has been attempted many times. But it’s never actually worked before. In every instance ever recorded of its use, it has resulted in the deaths of those who attempted to cast it.”
“But Rosenberg succeeded.”
“Yes. We’re not entirely sure how, but she and her friends succeeded in their casting of the spell.”
Silence reigned in the boardroom for a long moment.
“Meaning... the Slayer is now Immortal.”
Robertson let out a long, hissing breath. “It never rains, but it pours,” she commented.
The others looked to Lilah, waiting for her orders.
“I’m sure you’re all aware of the seriousness of this situation. Gavin, I want you to inform the Circle. I’ll have messages sent to the Senior Partners.” She glanced at the others. “The rest of you, get back to work. I need the information we took from that green friend of Angel’s cracked as soon as possible. This meeting is adjourned.”
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It was late, and Buffy was tired. It had been a very long day, and her mind was still whirling. Spike. A soul. For her. She didn’t want to think about it, but it seemed that she couldn’t think of anything else.
“Angel,” he had said, “He should have warned me. He makes a good show of forgetting, but it’s here in me... all the time. The spark. I wanted to give you what you deserve. And I got it. They put the spark in me... and now all it does is burn.”
Buffy shook her head. She was nearly home, and wanted nothing better than to take a nice, relaxing shower, and go to bed. She could think about this in the morning. Unfortunately, it would be a long time before she was afforded such a luxury. As she arrived in front of her home, the increasingly familiar crawling pressure that signaled the presence of another immortal came thundering into her awareness.
There.
A man with intense eyes and long dark hair tied in a ponytail was standing in her front yard, waiting for her.
“Are you Buffy Summers?” he asked, a hint of a Scottish accent in his voice.
Buffy sighed wearily. “Look, I’m not interested in taking your head, and I’m not about to let you take mine, so why don’t you just come back some other time? A few hundred years from now, maybe?”
The man smiled faintly at that. “I’m not here for your head.”
“Then why are you here?”
The man stepped out of the shadows and into the light that streamed from the light on the porch. “I’m here for a lot of things.” He held up a copy of one of the tabloids from the Supermarket, on which the headline, ‘DOCTORS SAY MIRACLE GIRL COULD BE KEY TO IMMORTALITY!’ was prominently displayed.
Buffy tried not to cringe. “Well, you know tabloids. You can’t believe a word of it.”
The man nodded. “So I hear. This kind of carelessness will attract attention, Miss Summers. Unless you want every Immortal in the country coming for your head, I’d suggest you keep a low profile, though it may already be too late for that.” He shrugged.
“Who are you?”
“I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod”
“What do you want?”
“To help you. You’ve got a lot to learn about being immortal.
Buffy smiled wryly. “Uhuh. Do you have anything worth living for?” (1)
Duncan blinked. “Huh?”
Buffy’s smile widened ever so slightly. “Nothing.”
She’d been hanging out with Xander WAY too much.
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SEVERAL WEEKS EARLIER
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Duncan MacLeod sat at a stool in Joe Dawson’s blues club in Seacouver. Joe poured him a drink and sat down at his side.
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
Joe took a sip of his beer. “What, can’t I invite you to come down and have a drink without an ulterior motive?”
Duncan nodded pleasantly. “Sure you can. But you didn’t. So spill. What’s the story?”
Joe smiled. “... There’s this girl.”
Duncan raised an eyebrow. “Forget it. That kind of story never ends well.”
“Nah, hear me out. Her name is Buffy Summers, and she’s like a daughter to an old friend of mine.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“She just became Immortal.”
“Does this friend of yours happen to be a Watcher?”
Joe nodded. “Rupert Giles. He’s with one of the other branches of the Watcher’s Council.”
“Other branches?”
“Well, you didn’t think that recording the history of Immortals was the ONLY thing we did, did you?”
Duncan shrugged. “Well, yeah.”
Joe laughed. “As interesting and as important as you people are, the world doesn’t revolve around Immortals.”
He paused a moment, looking closely at the Highlander. “It’s a little bit hard to explain, but she’s a newborn immortal, and she needs a teacher.”
“And you thought you could send me?”
“I was hoping, yeah.”
“I’m not an errand boy, Joe.”
“I know you’re not. I just... if someone doesn’t train her, she’s going to lose her head. Can you do this? As a personal favor?”
Duncan looked at Joe for a long moment. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“... She lives on the Hellmouth.”
Duncan laughed. “Very funny. Really, what aren’t you telling me?”
Joe shrugged.
“... You’re not joking.” It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
*END FLASHBACK*
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Buffy waited as the phone rang again and again. “Come on, Giles,” she murmured into the receiver, “Pick up. It’s gotta be daytime there if it’s night here...”
Duncan had been left waiting on the porch while Buffy called Giles to confirm his story. The phone rang again. And again. And then, finally, there came the distinctive click of the phone being answered on the other end, followed by the voice of the man who had become like a father to her.
#Hello?#
“Giles, it’s me.”
#Buffy? It’s good to hear from you. How are you?#
“I’m good, I guess, but that’s not why I called. When you left, you said you would send someone to help me. What was the name of the person that you sent?”
Buffy paused, listening to Giles’ response.
“Ok,” Buffy went on, glancing towards the porch, “And what did he look like?”
Another pause as Giles responded.
Buffy ‘hmmed.’ “OK. He’s here.”
#Ah yes,# came Giles’ voice, #Very good then.#
There was a brief pause.
“How’s Willow doing?”
#Very well, actually. Well enough that I’m going to be sending her back to Sunnydale in a day or two. I’ve got her flight number and arrival time written down here somewhere...#
Buffy smiled. She quickly retrieved a pen and a piece of paper and took down the information.
“Thanks, Giles. Send Willow our love.”
#Of course.#
“OK, one more thing: do you know anything about a vampire called ‘Lady Alisoun?’ Way stronger and faster than normal, and with a tendency to switch between Glory-speak and bizzaro barely English?”
*silence*
“Giles?”
#...Oh dear.#
“So you’ve heard of her?”
#I have. Buffy, it is extremely important that you not try to defeat her by yourself. Alisoun is quite possibly the single most dangerous vampire in the world.#
“Yeah, I kinda gathered that when she showed up at my house and killed me.”
#She was able to enter your house?#
“No. She called me out.”
#Are you alright?#
“Fine. It only hurts... well, every time, actually.”
#Yes. Right. I will send the information I have on Lady Alisoun with Willow.#
“Why not just tell me over the phone?”
#Because several of the spells needed to unlock the information can only be cast on the Hellmouth.#
“Oh.”
#Be very careful, Buffy. Until Willow arrives and you find a way to defeat ALisoun, you MUST not engage the vampire in combat again.#
“Come on, Giles. No matter how strong she is, she’s just a vamp. What’s the worst that could happen?”
#The end of the world.#
“...Oh.”
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Alisoun peered down into the wooden coffin. It was worse tonight than it was most nights - the stars could not be seen through the smog cover, and it took only a few minutes of walking outside to feel as though you needed a shower. Being a vampire, however, it didn’t particularly bother her.
“You know,” she said as she studied the body that they had recovered from the last ritual site, “Except for that minor case of decapitation that he’s got going on, I think he looks pretty good.”
Her flunkies were quick to voice their agreement.
“He looks kind of dead,” said Bob, her most trusted vampiric flunky.
Alisoun nodded. “He IS kind of dead.”
“Oh.”
Bob waited a beat.
“Well, if he’s kind of dead, how exactly are we going to awaken him? Don’t these creatures tend to kind of... die... when you cut off their heads?”
“Don’t be silly. He’s only KIND OF dead. He’s not COMPLETELY dead.”
“But his head’s off!”
Alisoun nodded. “So it is! Don’t you worry! He’ll wake up good as new once we perform the ritual of Reawakening.” She frowned. “Didn’t I say that already?”
Bob nodded faintly. “I believe you mentioned something along those lines.”
Her flunkies placed the lid on the coffin and quickly nailed it shut.
“So his name is Eater of Souls?”
Alisoun nodded.
“Why did they call him that?”
Alisoun LOOKED at Bob, thoroughly nonplused.
“... Oh. Right.”
Bob and three other vampires seized the coffin, then, and carried it over to the back of a pickup truck that was parked on the street nearby. Carefully, they set it down in the bed.
The sound of running feet announced the approach of yet another of Alisoun’s flunkies. Panting for breath (he was a fledgling, and it hadn’t quite occurred to him that he didn’t need to breathe), the vampire skidded to a stop at his Lady’s feet. “Lady Alisoun, I bring news most dire!”
Alisoun frowned. “Continue.”
“The Slayer is alive!”
Alisoun’s frown deepened.
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Duncan sat on the couch in the Summers’ living room, taking in the sights of the place his newest student called home. It was... nice. The house had character. As Buffy walked in, two cups filled with ice water in hand, Duncan’s attention was drawn to the few pictures that graced the living room. He reached for one of them – a middle-aged woman with blonde hair and a gentle smile.
“Find anything interesting?” Buffy asked, handing one of the cups to Duncan. He took it and set it on a coaster on the coffee table.
“Who’s this?” he asked, holding up the picture.
Sadness settled into Buffy’s eyes. “My mom.”
Duncan nodded. “You were adopted?”
Buffy gave Duncan an almost offended look. “No.” Her tone said far more than the word – his question bothered her.
Duncan looked at the picture for a long moment, and then at Buffy, taking in the very clear family resemblance. His expression grew troubled, but he said nothing.
Buffy took a sip of her water. “So, tell me about yourself, Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod. How do you know Giles?”
“I don’t. I know Joe Dawson. He knows Giles.”
“Oh. Is he a Watcher?”
Duncan blinked. “You know about Watchers?”
Buffy nodded. “Duh. Giles has been training me since I was sixteen.”
“Why would a Watcher train a pre-immortal? They observe and record. They’re not supposed to interfere.” Duncan paused a moment. “Not that they ever actually hold to that...”
“Giles wasn’t training a pre-immortal. He was training the Slayer.”
Duncan blinked. “Slayer?” he asked.
Buffy grinned.
Duncan waited for an explanation, but Buffy wasn’t in an explaining mood. She was more for asking questions.
“So how long have you been around?” she asked.
“A while.”
“Cryptic AND unhelpful. You’re not a Watcher, are you?”
Duncan laughed at that, but said nothing.
Buffy shook her head. “Hoo boy.”
Buffy and Duncan talked long into the night, and Buffy was told once more what an Immortal was, and what they were fighting for. The Game, the Gathering, the Prize, and what it meant to live as an immortal.
She questioned him closely on where exactly Immortals had come from, and why they were here, and how the Game had begun, and why, but he had only shaken his head and confessed that he didn’t know the answers to those questions. He had lived for a very long time. He knew others who had lived for much longer. None of them had found any answers. All they really knew was that when one immortal took the head of another, to the victor went the power.
“Power...” said Buffy.
“What?”
“That’s what the other Immortal said. The one I met in Vegas.”
Duncan raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Skinny guy, tuxedo-clad, dark hair, funny tattoo on his wrist. He told me that it’s not about right. Not about wrong. It’s about power.”
Duncan tried to conceal his look of recognition at that description. “Well,” he said, “What do you think it’s about?”
Buffy shrugged. “I don’t care. I don’t want any part in it. I’m not about to spend my life cutting off other people’s heads.”
Duncan smiled sadly. “You’d better find Holy Ground, then. Otherwise, they’ll come for you. You might have avoided it if you hadn’t been splashed on the tabloids, but your little stunt at the hospital is going to attract the attention of headhunting Immortals.”
“Yeah, that...”
“Have the FBI agents showed up yet?”
Buffy blinked. “FBI agents?”
“Didn’t you see the headline? FBI sends agents to investigate miracle girl?”
“Oh.”
“A word to the wise: try not to wake up on any more hospital beds. If you die, you’re going to have to be prepared to leave your life behind and move on.”
Buffy frowned. “I have responsibilities... my friends, my sister, my duties as Slayer...”
“How many responsibilities will you have in a government lab as some scientist’s guinea pig?”
“Just as many as I’d have here. Only there, the guards would be standing between them and me.”
“And what will you do if they hurt your friends and your sister in order to ensure your cooperation?”
“I’ll start breaking bones until they agree to let them go.”
Duncan shook his head. Obviously, this one would have to learn the hard way. He only hoped it didn’t get her killed.
And so it went, until Duncan finally left for his hotel at about 3:00 AM.
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The smog was thicker the next day – so thick that the sun barely peaked through at all. Even so, the weatherman on the local news program was for-casting a change to come soon – severe windstorms were due in the near future, which would probably be blowing dust and sand over just about everything. But until then, it was smog. Oh, the joys of living in the Los Angeles area.
Heedless of the smog, Buffy and Duncan stood in the back yard of the Summers residence, swords in hand. Dawn sat with her back to the closed kitchen door, watching the pair. When Buffy had explained who Duncan was and why he was here, Dawn had enthusiastically demanded that she be trained as well, at least in the sword fighting. It could be useful on patrol, after all. Duncan had been reluctant, but once Buffy had thought about it (and cast aside her gut instinct to tell Dawn ‘no’), she had told Duncan in no uncertain terms that if Dawn didn’t get training, she wasn’t going to train either. Dawn had already received her lesson, and it was Buffy’s turn now.
“Try not to break him, Buffy! He’s kinda cute,” said Dawn.
Duncan didn’t react.
Dawn arched an eyebrow. “Not very bashful, either.”
Buffy smiled wryly. “I’ll see what I can do.”
They stood facing off against each other, Duncan with his katana, and Buffy with her sword – the same sword that Angelus had pulled from Acathla. Her own sword had been sent to hell with Angel, but his she had kept.
Buffy and Duncan moved smoothly into battle, a flurry of clashing swords and ringing steel. Sparks flew where their blades met. There was nothing particularly fancy in their movements – nothing but good, solid sword work.
As they sparred, Duncan raised an eyebrow. “You’ve studied swordplay.” He slashed, and she parried.
Buffy nodded, forcing Duncan back a few steps with a few solid thrusts before his parry and subsequent counter-attack forced her to give up the ground that she had gained. “A little. I haven’t practiced in a while, though. I’m more partial to the crossbow.”
Amazement flashed across Duncan’s face. “You’re holding back!”
Buffy grinned. “So are you.”
With an unspoken agreement, both of them raised the skill level of the battle. They moved in increments, each one testing the new skill level of the other before increasing it, and repeating the process. After several minutes, the Highlander was going all out against the Slayer, and still neither one gained the advantage. And then Buffy brought her full strength to bear.
They darted towards one another and their blades clashed violently. Although Buffy wielded her sword one handed against Duncan’s two, he was the one who found his sword being forced backwards. Buffy slammed the locked blades into Duncan’s chest, and then brought her other hand around to punch him in the stomach.
The Highlander’s eyes widened as the force of the punch blasted the air from his lungs. He went flying into the fence, some twenty feet away.
As Duncan tried to collect what little remained of his pride, Buffy exchanged high fives with Dawn.
“So how’d I do, teach?”
Duncan coughed, holding his cracked ribs. The fact that they would heal very quickly didn’t make them hurt any less. “... All that from ‘a little’ study?” he asked.
Buffy nodded. “What can I say? I’m the Slayer.”
“... You’ve said that before. What, exactly, is the Slayer?”
Buffy blinked. She planted her sword in the soft grass at her feet. “Giles sent you here to train me and he didn’t tell you what the Slayer is?”
“Giles didn’t send me. Dawson did, on Giles’ behalf.”
Buffy and Dawn exchanged glances.
“Right. Well it goes like this...”
So they told him. One girl in all the world. Chosen. She alone will stand against the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer. They told him the whole deal. If he had not seen her superhuman abilities first hand, he never would have believed it. As they explained, Duncan listened with a feeling of dread. A newborn Immortal with superhuman strength, speed, agility, endurance AND skill was NOT a good thing. Her powers would only increase as she began taking heads - and she WOULD take heads, he knew that. For all that she protested it, she would. Nobody liked the idea of cutting off heads at first. Not unless something was wrong with them, that is. But that was the way the world was, and the sooner she accepted the world the way it was, the sooner she’d be able to cope.
God only knew she’d need to cope.
END EPISODE 06
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Next: It hits the fan. Buffy tries to balance her family and friends with Slaying, training, AND the Game, little realizing that apocalypse season is right around the corner!
1 – If you get the reference, you get a cookie.
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