winter | Two very evil authors

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winter

Fic later. Now, recs for the people who are making me write it.

First of all, I've mentioned

guede_mazaka's The Black Road before. Now she wrote an extra not-quite-epilogue that shorted out my brain rather neatly.

(In return, I owe her Van Helsing angelic party fic.)

And second, the usual suspect. In the Name of, the story that'll make you see just why adore the Tanz vampires so much. Because they can, in utterly plausible ways, kick anyone's arse. No, honestly - you really, really don't need to know anything about Tanz to read this crack. But I don't guarantee sanity afterwards.

(In return, I owe her Herbert ficlets galore, as soon as I come up with enough pretentious German titles.)

In related news, I still can't decide which is weirder as OTP: Dark!Harry Potter/Stockholm-syndrome!Lucius or Herbert von Krolock/Spike. H/S is way fluffier, though. And more blood. *gives up and ships both*

Current Mood: cranky

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From:

fyrie.livejournal.com

“Sure this is the place, G?”

“These were Willow’s exact co-ordinates,” Rupert Giles replied. After a flight from Turin to Sibiu, they had been met by an acquaintance of Vittorio’s, who had lead them straight to the helicopter they were presently descending in.

Below then, green land unrolled, tinted gold by late-afternoon sunlight, looking far too warm and friendly to be vampire-land.

While Giles didn’t doubt Willow as a powerful force, this time he had chosen to make the journey to seek out his wayward Slayer himself and, if need be reclaim her body and avenge her.

Landing on open meadow close to what looked like a manor house, he and Faith - the Slayer second only to Buffy in rank and experience - climbed down onto the grass, the propeller still beating rapidly overhead.

Strapping a crucifix to her thigh and a sword onto her back, Faith pulled a hefty crossbow out of the cabin. It was a monstrosity which could fire half-a-dozen arrows at once, which often proved useful when outnumbered by a faster foe, although it only usually served for one shot before hand-to-hand combat became necessary.

“Charming,” Giles said dryly. His own crossbow was lighter, efficient and deadly with a single bolt.

With a nod to the pilot, they made their way across the ankle-length grass, towards the house. Only when they were closer did it become apparent that this was no discreet manor in the middle of nowhere.

For one thing, the windows above the front door looked like they had been blown outwards by some kind of explosion and the gravel of the driveway was scorched and blackened by what looked like it had been a firebomb.

“Call it a hunch, G,” Faith said from beside him, her voice dripping sarcasm. “But I think we’re in the right place.”

From:

fyrie.livejournal.com

Glancing at the young woman, he could see the fire in her eyes, the energy already tensing her body, ready for the fight. Her finger was curled around the trigger and she was grinning in an altogether wicked way.

Approaching the front door of the building, which was hanging ajar on its hinges, the Watcher motioned for her to be quiet, pushing the door open with one foot. Peering into the shadow, he could see nothing, but that wasn’t enough for the battle-ready woman beside him.

Uncaring of surprises, she pushed past him, into the building, crossbow held out in front of her.

“Faith!”

“S’clear!” Her voice rang back to him out of the darkness. “Jesus H Christ! Someone went to town here!”

With a roll of his eyes, Giles warily stepped into the shadowy doorway after her, his eyes taking a moment to adjust. His brows drew together at the carnage that Faith was standing in the midst of, the once-elegant lobby littered with shattered glass and broken woodwork.

There were scorches and cobwebbed splinters spreading on the polished wood of the walls, all marks of a battle with magic. Even the air was heavy with the scent of it, though it looked like hours had past.

“You know,” a voice spoke from the top of the staircase, “Some would consider it good manners to knock at the door before entering.”

Faith whirled around, crossbow raised, her eyes on a shapeless figure in the shadows above her. “Door was open,” she replied. “Just here for the clean-up.”

From:

fyrie.livejournal.com

Whoever he was, the speaker stepped out of the shadows. Tall and striking, he had long gold hair drawn back in a loose ponytail. Wearing a suit, he looked impeccable save for the cut that scored one cheek.

“Shipping in cleaners from America?” he inquired pleasantly. “My, my. Father really does spare no expense.” He inclined his head slightly. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Indeed?” Giles moved closer to the Slayer.

The vampire smiled. “Of course,” he murmured, walking down the staircase with a slow, smooth tread. “Your charming young witch must have been quite beside herself when your Slayer vanished off her radar.”

Levelling her crossbow at his chest, Faith gazed at him. “You gonna tell us where B is or do I gotta ruin that fine-lookin’ suit for you?”

With a casual gesture with one elegant, white hand, the vampire sighed. “Oh, I really would prefer it if you didn’t,” he said lightly. “Have you any idea how tiresome fittings are?”

Giles saw the grin cross Faith’s face and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Where is she?” he asked, his voice firm and quiet.

Fair eyebrows rose marginally. “What’s this? Someone from the Watchers Council with something akin to manners?” He laughed, halting halfway down the broad staircase. “This is, indeed, an occasion.”