Alright everyone, here's what I have so far of the next section. Let's just call this part 6APlease see part 1 for all disclaimers and warnings...that's the link at the top of the post. *grin* Parts beginning and ending with ** are flashaback scenes.
As the hours passed, the energy in the club began to dwindle. Xander and Anya had long-since departed with Anya’s usual lack of tact in all matters sexual and Xander. Ephiny and Lex had gone out for a walk moments ago, promising to meet up with everyone back at the Rosenberg house. Willow was snoring softly into Tara’s shoulder as the exhausted couple reclined on a couch next to their equally afflicted Aunts. Gabrielle ran her fingers through Xena’s silky black tresses as the dark-haired immortal slumbered upon her lover’s lap. Tara looked up and met Gabrielle’s gaze as both women shared an amused smile. A rather loud and obnoxious snore broke the peace of the moment, causing two blonde heads to turn and stare at the body curled at their feet. Gabrielle stifled a giggle as she watched the Slayer shift in her sleep and sigh contentedly.
“You guys really have no stamina, whatsoever.”
Xena opened one lazy eye to glare at the owner of the voice that had so rudely interrupted her dreams. Quill stood before them in all of her nocturnal, raver glory. A light sheen of sweat glistened across her chest and arms from hours of dancing. She pulled a water bottle from one of the infinite amounts of pockets in her pants and downed the entire bottle in three gulps.
Xena’s eyes narrowed at the young woman’s hauteur. “Some of us don’t have the advantage of your experience in wasting away perfectly good sleeping hours to dance and socialize.”
The young werewolf frowned at the immortal’s bitter words and walked off in the direction of the exit.
“Where are you going?” Gabrielle called after the young woman. She knew Xena hadn’t meant to hurt Quill’s feelings, but the woman tended to get very irritable when her sleep was interrupted.
“Outside for a smoke!” She called back, not bothering to turn around and face the rather bewildered group.
“How can someone who smokes dance for that long without collapsing?” Tara asked.
“Maybe she has a spare lung or something in those pants.” Gabrielle replied dryly as she nudged Xena to get up off her lap. Xena complied with a minimal amount of complaining as the two immortals stood and stretched. Tara followed their lead and leaned down to rouse Willow.
“Will, sweetheart, I think we’re getting ready to leave. How’s a nice big bed and a Tarapillow sound to you?”
“Hmmmm,” Willow purred, caught in the throws of an obviously pleasant dream. “…Thar be gold in these hills, I can smell it…let the spelunking commence.” Willow mumbled. Tara immediately began to blush a deep red as the naughty side of her lover’s familiar dream-role took voice and instantly caught the attention of the two immortals. Gabrielle put her fingers up to her lips, hiding the grin she felt threatening to split her face in two, while Xena raised an eyebrow and adopted a rather impressed expression.
Tara increased her efforts, hoping to wake Willow before any more details fell from her lover’s rather busy mouth.
“Willow, honey, c’mon. It’s time to go.” Tara’s voice was louder and more insistent, but to no avail. She leaned down and whispered into Willow’s ear. “The spelunking will commence once we get home Captain Rosenberg, so let’s raise the anchor and set sail…now.”
Willow’s eyes fluttered open as the familiar voice broke the fading images of her dreamscape. Confusion clouded her features as she took in the amused expressions of the women around her. She glanced up at Tara seeing the beautiful woman smile back at her as bright coloring across her neck and cheeks began to fade.
“I was talking in my sleep again, wasn’t I?” It was more of a statement than a question.
Tara nodded mutely as her smile grew.
“Subconscious Willowbabble was on the naughtier side tonight, wasn’t it?” Tara dutifully blushed again and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear as she bit her lower lip and nodded once more. Willow’s heart melted as she read a myriad of emotions and thoughts in those few gestures. She had embarrassed her lover, yes, but more than that, she had flattered her.
“Um…sorry baby, I didn’t get us in too much trouble did I?”
Tara glanced up at Xena and Gabrielle.
“We’ll consider this payback for the other night and call it even on the ‘miscellaneous sexual information we’d really rather not know about each other’ list.” Xena smirked. “Now, if someone would be so kind as to wake sleeping beauty down here, I think we can proceed in a homeward direction.”
Buffy released another strangled choking noise, causing the entire group to wince. Tara cocked her head and turned perplexed eyes upon the redhead.
“How on earth did you sleep at night when you were rooming with her?”
“Subconscious Willowbabble kind of negates Buffy’s Mind-Boggling Nasal Symphony.” Willow shrugged. Tara smiled in agreement and knelt to wake the slayer.
“Buffy? Buuuuffy?” The blonde was wary of the slayer, having never taken it upon herself to interrupt Buffy’s sleep before. Willow simply shook her head at the blonde’s gratuitously cautious approach.
“Hey Buffy! No amount of beauty sleep’s gonna cure it! Let’s go!”
Tara, Xena and Gabrielle all turned to stare at Willow, completely taken aback at the redhead’s words and tone.
“Thanks for the sympathy Wills. Good to know you still care.” Buffy grumbled from the floor, her voice muffled by the rug. With a groan and a whimper, the slayer picked herself up off the floor and glared at the women around her. “Why was I sleeping on the floor?”
“Well, one minute you were sitting against the couch complaining about…something…and the next thing we knew, you were zonked Buffy, curled up all kitteny at our feet. You were just too cute to disturb.” Willow grinned at her best friend.
“Well thank you for your appreciation of my feline appeal, Captain Rosenburg, but if it’s alright with you, I think I’d like to go home now.” Buffy smirked as she turned and headed for the door. An expression of pure mortification firmly in place, Willow wordlessly watched the slayer walk away. Feeling a choking wave of sympathy for her lover, Tara brought her hand up to her neck, grasping it and turning to follow Buffy out of the Bronze.
The immortals couldn’t mask the grins this time and chose to make a quick retreat rather than further embarrass the hacker. Willow’s brow furrowed as she followed her Aunts.
“Tara! What, exactly, was I talking about in my sleep?”
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“The sky is so clear tonight…so calm before the storm.”
“I suppose Sir. Might I suggest we retire? They are due to report any moment now.”
“Ah yes, the witches. May I ask you something Philemon?”
“Of course Sir.”
“Would you consider destiny a greater cause than fate?”
“I thought the two were synonymous Sir.”
“No, no Philemon. You see, fate is something one falls victim to; something one cannot escape. Destiny is something one achieves. You have a right to deny your destiny, you cannot deny fate.”
“Then I suppose, yes, destiny is the greater cause Sir.”
“Yes, I suppose it is. Thank you Philemon. I’ll be in momentarily to see about the latest on our premiere couples.”
The servant complied with a small bow before gracefully turning and exiting the moonlit terrace. A small grin twitched at the corner of Kaladen’s lips as he gazed intently at the busy Roman nightlife below him. People were milling about in the square below, laughing, dancing and enjoying the luxury of Italy’s finest wines.
“Fools.”
Madness tickled the edges of his withering mind as he contemplated making an appearance below. His smile grew at the thought, and then it suddenly contorted into a tight scowl and then into snarl.
“No, they would not be pleased with me if I took a holiday. They would see. They see everything.”
“Sir?”
Kaladen glanced up quickly at the voice.
“Sir, they are here.”
Kaladen bowed his head in a nod as he turned to follow Philemon inside.
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“Ephiny?”
“Yes?”
“Why do you think you were restored?”
The two women had been wandering in a comfortable silence until now and this question was surely the last the Regent had expected to hear. Lex felt the taller woman’s eyes on her, but the vampire refused to meet Ephiny’s gaze.
“I didn’t realize it was an issue up for questioning. I never question fate: especially not when it brings me back to you.”
“That’s just it Eph.” Lex looked up into the Regent’s eyes, pleading for understanding. “We already met our fates, hundreds of years ago. This is not fate; it’s something more. There is reason behind this fortune. They would not have restored you to this form if they didn’t have a specific reason for it.” The vampire’s voice shook, as her desperation to shed light on this epiphany of hers, grew more frantic.
“Lex, I know the Powers that Be have exercised their cruelty in our circumstances, but have they not also shown their mercy? We may be restricted in our ‘communication’ but we are together. Doesn’t that mean something?”
“Ephiny, if you so much as smell my blood, you will tear me apart instantly. Vampires and Werewolves only form alliances under the most dire of circumstances.” Lex’s brow furrowed as she struggled to explain her thoughts to the Regent.
“Lex, pragmatism is hardly your code of conduct. What are you implying?”
“What I’m trying to say is; our being brought together, like this, is not just a cruel or clever trick of the gods. This is about instinct. Something big is brewing: something far beyond our comprehension, and yet, familiar. There is more to this than Willow and Tara arousing a few demons, and it is more than a coincidence that Willow happens to be the Sunwalker’s niece. I can feel it. We’re missing something, and that ‘something’ is going to be our end.”
Ephiny was at a loss for words. She had never seen Lex this disturbed before. Alexandra, one of the oldest vampires to walk the earth today, was scared. That in and of itself was enough to frighten the Regent.
“What brought this on Lex?” Ephiny reached out to lay a hand on the vampire’s shoulder. Lex shook her head silently.
“In the club, I felt…something. It was old, and it was very dark.” Her words were soft and tentative.
“Lex, we’re on a Hellmouth. It could have been any of a thousand different things.”
“No Eph. I haven’t felt a fear or a rage this intense since…”
“Since when love?”
“Since the Great War.” At this, Lex finally raised her eyes to meet the Regent’s. Ephiny’s eyes glazed over and grew wide with disbelief.
I know you weren’t there to witness it first hand, but you know what happened. You know what we had to face, what we had to do. Ephiny, something deep down inside is telling me not to ignore this. I think they’re back, and I think they might have something to do with all of this.
“We need to talk to Gabrielle.” Ephiny replied as they quickly turned and headed for home.
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**“Well, shall we rest here for the day, or shall we ride on?” The Gangrel crossed his arms and regarded his comrades. Twilight was minutes away and it appeared as though the locals may not be as welcoming as the group might have hoped. Crosses hung above every doorway and held a fairly central role in the décor of the town.
“How are the horses fairing?” The raspy voice of the Nosferatu broke the silence of the impromptu meeting.
“They are tired and in need of nourishment, but well enough to continue.” The Gangrel replied.
“How far away is the next town?” The Toreador asked in between kisses that she feverishly bestowed upon the woman wrapped in her arms.
“About a full-day’s ride south.” The Gangrel stated evenly. “If we allow the horses about a candlemark of rest, they can make it. It’s just a little matter of the dawn and it’s haste to arrive.”
“You bloody bastard! Empty your pockets now! Or suffer my wrath!” The high-pitched screams of the Malcavian startled the group from their discussion, as all heads turned to see what the commotion was about.
“I haven’t taken a thing.” The Ravnos calmly replied, as he stuck his hands in his pockets and puffed out his chest.
“Like hell you didn’t! I can see it! Give it all back you filthy thief!”
The onlookers couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of the Malcavian’s accusation. However, before they had an opportunity to comment on this fact, the Malcavian raised his hand towards the indifferent Ravnos and bellowed, “hold!”
A black sphere enveloped the surprised Ravnos, as numerous trinkets of gold and silver began to filter through the bubble and fall at the Malcavian’s feet.
The other Gangrel stepped forward and raised an eyebrow at the display. When the last item had made its descent, the sphere flickered and disappeared, leaving one very frightened Ravnos standing before them. The tall Irish Gangrel growled low at the Ravnos, his eyes flashing a fiery red.
The Ravnos whimpered in fear while shrugging away from the group.
“Jared!”
The large vampire stopped abruptly and turned to face the voice.
“We haven’t time for this. He is what he is: leave it be and prepare for the day.”
“Yes, my Prince.” The enormous Gangrel bowed his head at the man before him and dutifully began shoveling dirt into the carriage. Once he and his carriage-mate had piled a good three feet of earth in their coach, each quickly shifted and sunk deep inside for a good rest.
“Tanon!” The prince yelled. The Toreador quickly abandoned the woman she had been fondling and answered her Master’s call.
“Yes, my Prince?”
“The Gypsies are no less than a candlemark behind your caravan. You will ride with them. You and your Lupine companion are less than welcome by any but the Gangrels and their coach is full. The Ravnos will not be trusted by any of the others and must have his own carriage. The Nosferatu and the Malcavian will take the first carriage, the Ravnos the second and the Gangrels have already made themselves at home in the third. I don’t mean any disrespect to you or your companion by this course of action, but it is necessary if we are to reach our destination in time.”
“Yes, Sire. I understand.” The woman bowed and backed away from the hansom vampire. He turned quickly and shifted into the shadows.
“Miriam!” The Toreador called as she continued to watch the space where the prince stood only moments before. A tall, striking woman approached Tanon from behind. Despite being bound and burdened by layer upon layer of leather and weapons, she moved with the silence of the mist and the darkness. Long, ebony hair cascaded down her strong shoulders and ended in a tangled mess of curls. On her left shoulder, the mark of the Furies was tattooed, while on her right, she bore the symbol of the outcast, the Ronin.
“Yes Tanon?” Her voice, calm and melodic, revealed the true subservience she held towards the vampire.
“We will be riding with the gypsies. Come.” With a salacious grin, the Toreador turned on her heal and led the woman towards the cover of the forest, to lie in wait for the gypsies’ arrival.**
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“Do you really think we should wake them? I mean, this information could wait till morning.”
The fury didn’t respond but instead picked up her pace as they rounded the corner and approached the Rosenberg house. Only one light could be seen on, glowing dimly through the living room curtains. As they reached the front door, Ephiny brought her hand up and knocked three times. A slender woman cracked open the door and peered outside.
“Sanctuary.”
The woman nodded and stepped back to allow the other women to enter the foyer. The house was quiet save for the low hum of kitchen appliances kicking on and off. The small army of warriors could be seen sleeping soundly, scattered about the living room.
“Thank you Varia. Have Willow and Tara gone to bed?”
Varia quickly wiped the smug grin off her face as she glanced towards the stairs and then back into the cool eyes of her Regent.
“They are in bed.” Whether or not they are sleeping is another question entirely.
Ephiny raised an eyebrow at the unspoken end of Varia’s answer. The regent stood in silent thought for a moment, staring blankly in the direction of the staircase. A light touch fluttered across her fingertips, bringing her eyes back down to meet the inquiring gaze of her Second.
“I really don’t want to have to explain this twice.”
Lex’s eyes danced, waiting for confirmation on what Ephiny’s words so subtly implied.
“Alright, we’ll tell them in the morning. Besides, I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t want to be the one to disturb the blood kin of the Sunwalker from any bedroom activities…sleeping or otherwise.”
Victory.
“Common sense smart ass. C’mon, let’s get some rest.”
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**The forest loomed before them like a massive shadow in an already pitch night. Where the waning moon cast light upon the earth, the shadow seemed to shift: breathing. A haunting chorus of whispers, like the rustle of the wind through dry leaves, danced about the group of vampires as they crept soundlessly through the darkness. There was no wind tonight: the air was still.
“They’re everywhere. I can feel them.” The largest of the Gangrels growled. In one motion, quicker than the blink of an eye and more fluid than water, he released the battle-ax from his side and brought it to the ready at his side.
“Be calm Jared. They can feel you, and your anger is more delicious to them, than a virgin’s blood is to you.”
A few paces ahead of them, the shadows shifted and fled, leaving laughter in their wake. Suddenly, the shadows came to life and dozens of pairs of glowing, purple eyes focused on the group of vampires, now frozen in their tracks.
“Alright everyone, I think this is where we test our celerity.” The smaller Gangrel whispered.
They were horribly outnumbered and far less than adequately prepared for what they had come upon. The soft laughter they had heard only moments before, now grew and transformed into a loud buzzing that drove the vampires wild with rage. Shadows began dropping form the treetops as the moonlight caught and revealed the decaying flesh of wings and rotting skin.
“Run, now!” The prince whispered harshly, as each vampire quickly retreated to the relative safety of the open field from whence they’d come.
Once they had all regrouped and taken a moment to calm themselves form the hasty retreat, the Toreador stepped forward and glared at the stillness of the forest.
“They’ve already arrived. The Black Spiral Dancers are here and we’ve run out of time.”**
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[This message has been edited by Quill (edited January 07, 2002).]
[This message has been edited by Quill (edited January 07, 2002).]
