Don't own any of 'em, prob'ly never will.
Don't sue.
Not making money.
Don't cop it off and sell it as your own.
Don't kill anyone.
Sorry, didn't mean to preach. Heh, heh.
This part is short. Sorry, but it had to happen and I had little to say. Hey, don't complain. I was hit by a blessing from the Muse of Writing at the end, so it could have been a lot shorter! ::g::
Website: The Scribs: Home of the Insane Fanfiction Writer Cassima
Chickety China, the Chinese chicken
Have a drumstick and your brain stops tickin'
Watchin "X-Files" with no lights on
We're dans la maison
I hope the Smoking Man's in this one.
--"One Week", Barenaked Ladies
By the time they reached the temple, they almost sagged in relief.
"Man," Xander groaned, unloading his armful of weapons, "I was not made to carry this! This is why my domain is in the library." At the influx of skeptical glances, he grew defensive. "Not that I don't mind kicking some butt now and then."
Mulder looked up in interest. "Why are you carrying all those... weapons... anyway?"
Buffy and Giles exchanged a glance. "Oh, G--Mr. Giles is a real history buff," she explained rapidly. "He loves his history."
"We all do," Willow agreed. "We're real historians."
"Really?" Mulder asked, trying the waters. "I've always been a lover of history, myself."
"Have you..." Jenny Calendar murmured, checking out his features. Oh, shit, Scully thought.
Oh, damn, echoed Giles' thoughts.
"Yes. I find many of the ancient rituals fascinating..." the two began to talk, leaving a very miffed FBI agent and librarian to glower in their direction.
Rei watched the assorted group from a few feet away, wondering why she had been compelled to invite them to stay at the temple. She was pretty sure Grandpa wouldn't mind; he would probably, in fact, welcome the odd group of people. Especially the girls. She grimaced and made a mental note to warn them about him and his fascination with the young female human body.
Other thoughts also filled her mind. I sense evil, was one of the pervading ones. Someone here is undead. After many moments of deliberation, she finally decided that it was Mr. Strong and Silent. It had to be. But, if he was, the Slayer should know. The Slayer would have to know.
The Slayer would have killed him.
The Slayer.
Yet another point of discussion in her mind. She had had many visions about the Slayer lately. She was surprised with herself that she hadn't recognized her on their first meeting, not that she would admit that to anyone. Rei was anything if not strong. And always right, of course.
Their meeting.
Where was that damnable dog?? The way it had hovered protectively around Buffy made her think that it wouldn't be likely to simply step out of the way. And the way the dog had talked... Well, she was glad that Luna and Usagi had stopped by later and explained that, or none of this would have made any sense to her. Still... another Lunar Guardian? A canine Lunar Guardian?
And those FBI agents. What had possessed her to invite them to stay at her temple? Even though that Agent Mulder guy was kinda cute... But that Agent Scully was a witch. At first, their Japanese had been clumsy, awkward, but now it was flawless. And, right before they began to speak perfectly, she had felt that creepiness of death magic playing a song on her spine.
Erg.
She shook her head. This kind of thinking wasn't going to get her anywhere tonight. With her strong confidence, she marched up to Buffy and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Look, I'm sorry about attacking you before," she started. "I was just... testing you."
Buffy's eyes conveyed her skepticism. "Sure you were."
"What, you don't believe me?!?"
"Of course I do," she smoothed over. "People test me everyday." Unconsciously, she through an eye in Lun@'s direction. Some more than others... and in more ways than one...
"Good. Hey, where'd that cute little dog of yours go? I saved a Milk bone for him..." Rei's voice was faker that she meant it to be.
Milkbones. Ugh. I hate milk bones. Ever since the brownout... Lun@ shivered and walked away, trusting her Slayer to field the question. "Hey, Mr. Giles, could you please explain the Dewy-Decimal System to me again? I think I might be understanding it..."
Giles' insides groaned at the topic. She understands the blasted system just fine. She just likes to play the "what-if" game. I hate that damnable game, he thought bitterly, a muscle in his stomach clenching in time with the twitching in his jaw.
They began discussing it, though, and eventually the conversation evolved into something much more interesting to both parties about the technicalities of the Mayan Sun Worship rituals.
Scully felt the intense need to distance herself from this crowd of lunatics. Each one was utterly inapproachable. Even Mulder was acting like he was in a UFO convention, chatting up the babe with the 'do happily.
It was enough to make her puke.
Actually, the queasiness in her stomach was enough to make her puke. The drugs her doctor had prescribed her to suppress the symptoms of her illness had a slightly disorienting effect.
Excusing herself to a room that her host had pointed out, Scully allowed herself to fall asleep.
But no dreams tonight, she told her brain strictly, permitting her eyelids to droop and cover her baby blue eyes. None of this nonsense, please.
And with that, she slept.
It was about an hour before anyone missed her. Mulder, still keyed up from the explosion, turned to verify a fact from his walking Sarcastic Encyclopedia of the Unbelievers when he realized that she wasn't there. "Scully?" he called, looking around. "Has anyone seen Scully?"
"She was muttering something about flight times to Australia, I think," Lun@ volunteered sleepily. "Maybe she had a flight to catch."
Mulder turned his head to look at her. "WHAT?"
"She went to bed."
"Oh." He continued to look at her distrustfully. "I guess I'll turn in, too." Following the Priestess' directions, he went into the temple.
Buffy looked at her Guardian. "Earth to Lun@, come in Lun@! He's a Fed! Do you have some kinda death wish or something?"
"No, just trying to have fun. Don't I have nine lives or something?"
"That's a cat."
"Oh. Oops."
SOMEWHERE, BETWEEN TIME, BETWEEN POINT A AND B, BETWEEN HERE AND WHERE YOU ARE...
The dark energy flowed over, twisting, shouting, hurling itself around, creating a pocket.
In this pocket, the Ancients were born.
They were woven out of hate and sewn with threads of despair, anger, jealousy, and pleasure. Four of the Ancients, twined with power, stirred, became stronger, became more than the others.
These four had a mission. They had to find their Queen.
They had searched the Universe and finally concluded that Earth, by far, had the greatest possibility of harboring the Queen. So, with delicate precision, they infiltrated the planet, searching.
Finally, they found her! With unimaginable delight, the Four Ancients began to move towards her, calling for their leader, calling for their blessed one.
But then, SHE got in the way.
SHE had a way of doing that. Her brilliance, her luminescence, her pureness blinded the Four, causing them to turn their heads from their prize, to back away, to scream in agony.
She hadn't even been aiming her magnificence at them.
And then, their Queen, their passion, their truth, burst in a brilliance of purple light, died before their eyes.
"MISTRESS 9!!!!!!!!" they cried out, tears coursing down their cheeks. "NOOO!!" But, alas, their Queen was no more.
With careful deliberation, they began to discuss the matter. What was to be done? What should happen now?
Then, one had an idea. She had always been the brightest of the four, and her ideas had great sway on how the group decided.
"We must find a new Queen."
The thought was spoken, clear and straight, and agreement was unanimous. A new Queen must be found.
This Queen must be stronger.
This Queen must be greater in magnificence.
This Queen must be shielded from HER, the white one.
They searched.
It was a long and tedious process, carefully picking over every one of the inhabitants of the planet, only to choose one to hold their mission of darkness.
Finally, they found her. The perfect one. Except for one problem.
It wasn't a her.
Once again, there was deliberation. Could their champion be a King? A definite "No".
But, could their Queen be of the male gender?
That was a more delicate question. "Queen" did have female connotations, but those were simply connotations, and connotations could be dealt with in harsh and unspeakable manners.
Once again, the Four were in agreement. He was to be their Queen.
They approached him lightly, delicately. One so devious was not to be trifled with in a meaningless manner. Finally, so wound was he in their lies, so trapped in their evil, so disgraced with their blackness, that he had no choice but to cave to them and their wishes, to become ruler of their dark empire.
And, the Four were pleased.
And, if the Four were pleased, the Ancients were pleased.
There was much general happiness in the Pocket Outside the Universe.
The Queen surveyed his loyal subjects. A stream of smoke curled around his head, and the cigarette he was holding obediently burned back, exposing the delicate, mind-altering chemicals for his inhalation. The Four pleased him. They were true and loyal.
The withered man lifted his cigarette to his tired lips and puffed on it mindlessly, contemplating what had to be done.
There was much to do.
The White One. He frowned slightly. The Four kept telling him about HER and HER awful, white goodness. Just as they were pure hate, SHE was pure love. The legend sounded familiar to him, and he began to contemplate his options for destroying such a creature. He couldn't turn HER to their side.
To change such a goodness would be to destroy it.
A shame to destroy such power, though. He picked up another Morely's and one of the Four rose to his side to light it for him.
Shame would not change what must be done.
Endnotes
Hey, that last bit about the Ancients was totally impromptu. I surprised myself, something that doesn't happen very often. :)
A quick explanation note, for the confused:
Mistress 9, the Ancients original Queen, was an entity that possessed Sailor Saturn. At least, she was in this universe.
Oh, and for those of you who figured out that the Queen is the Cigarette Smoking Man, the main bad guy from the X-files, you deserve a pat on the back. You'd make a rocking detective! (Or not. Whatever.)
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