New Blood commentary pt. 1
Jan. 22nd, 2004 03:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mandolinOkay, as promised, the start of "New Blood" with commentary.
I'm actually going to try to go through the whole thing. I was originally going to just do a chapter or two, but there's just too much to talk about not to do it all. Here we go...
Disclaimer and Notes: Power Rangers Lost Galaxy and all related indicia belongs to Saban, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions. This is now the second story in a series called "Bloodlines," and you might not get what's going on til you go back and read "Wherever You Are." (But it'll only take a minute! Really!)
To save you the time and trouble, a quick recap: Mike falls into a crevice to his apparent death (the PRLG pilot). But he ends up getting dumped in the Scooby Gang's laps - quite literally, dropping out of a vortex in the library. He's only half-conscious, not dangerous, and Giles takes him in for the night. Said story was supposed to be a silly one-shot, but it opened up such a can of worms I couldn't help writing this.
Timeline - for PRLG, right after "Quasar Quest, part 2." For BtVS, shortly before "Lover's Walk." But Angel doesn't figure heavily into this. The prologue, incidentally, occurs during "Wherever You Are." This fanfic is rated TV-14 for language, violence, and some sexual suggestion. Well, it does take place in Sunnydale. "Solidify" is by Sheryl Crow in reality, but the lyrics seemed appropriate. A cybercookie to anyone who guesses just who else from the PR universe I kind of threw in.
I actually kept this fanfic pretty well in Season 3 canon for Buffy, actually. And while Angel wasn't supposed to figure heavily into this, I figured midway through the story that he probably had encountered Lorelei in his time. Oh, well. And I'm going to explain the PR references here anyway.
Thanks go out to: miko, for clarifying some of the Gingaman plotline ahead of schedule; AleXander Thompson, for his wonderful Buffy transcripts that kept my continuity straight; Spartacus and Catherine Lee for looking over the first draft of this; the folks on a.f.p-r for their discussions on how to explain around the PRLG plotholes; and you, for reading this. Let me know you did and I'll be even more thankful. :) (Translation: Please send feedback!)
This was the first story I wrote that required two betas to look it over. I hadn't written much in the way of Buffy fanfic prior to this, and wanted to make sure I could get a good handle on the characters and the dialogue. Most people who read it enjoyed it, and some crazy person actually nominated this for a Halo Award for Winter 2001 and made my year. So I think I succeeded. :)
New Blood
by Amanda Ohlin
Faith popped up and handed me the title, and while it may be a tad cliche, it fit beautifully.
Saturday
I tried to make it clear that the events of this story happen in just one week - Mike's first week in town - and that also provided a way to bring things full circle by the end of the story. This part actually takes place DURING the events of "Wherever You Are," but it's a necessary prologue to introduce the villains.
"So what's the big deal?" the smaller of the two boys crouched in the bushes muttered to his partner. "We've been sitting here for half an hour and I don't see nothing."
"Trust me, Max," his companion assured him. "It's almost eleven-thirty. She's been coming out here every night this week."
Max rubbed absently at his neck. "She better be. You sure we're not sitting in poison ivy? Cause if I break out again, Benny, I swear--"
"Shh!" Benny elbowed him, pointing. "Here she comes!"
So, are these two obvious cannon fodder or what?
The tall redhead strode towards the water's edge calmly, confidently, her movements as smooth and mercurial as the rippling surface of the lake. She walked like a model striding down the runway, almost as if she was perfectly aware she was being spied on. As she reached the lake, she kicked off her sandals, dipping a toe into the water as if to test it.
"Yeah, yeah, the water's fine, honey," Benny muttered from his vantage point in the bushes. "Go ahead, take a swim. Nobody's gonna see you."
She decided it was sufficient, and after a quick glance about, began to shed her clothes. Instead of hastily shuffling out of her jacket, tank top, and shorts, she took her time, letting each garment drop to the ground. With the last of her clothing discarded on the grass, she dived into the dark water, going under for a moment before resurfacing, her red hair glistening water-slicked against her skull. She treaded water for a few moments, humming some unknown tune before stopping and squinting. If Max didn't know better, he could have sworn she was staring right at them. Almost as if she heard his thoughts, she smiled, her green eyes fixating right on them.
I gave her red hair and green eyes as a nod to a lot of Mary Sues I'd seen at the time; she was intentionally evil, so it fit for me. Lori was actually derived from a German legend I did a bit of research on, although I admit I twisted some things around.
"You two can either watch," she called, "or you can join me."
Both boys froze at that invitation. "No way," Max whispered. "She can't."
"I can see you just fine," she purred, leaning back a bit in the water to give them a better look. Her red hair floated about her in the water like a cloud as she gave them a teasing smile. "Are you two men going to get in here, or am I going to have to swim all by myself?"
Max sat back on his heels, confused. Benny was already stripping off his shirt, murmuring, "Thank you, God, thank you, thank you, thank you..."
"What are you doing?" Max hissed as Benny stood up, stripping down to his boxers. "Isn't this a little too weird?"
Benny glanced over at the woman again, who was floating on her back in the water. "Too weird? There's a naked woman who wants us to go skinny-dipping with her, and all you can say is 'too weird?' Maxie, you can go back and hide under your bed, but I'm not going to pass this up because it's 'too weird.'" He started off, but paused. "You coming?"
Oh, yeah. They're dead men. It's official.
Max thought about it. As he did, the woman began to hum again, an odd, eerie melody that she seemed to be making up as she went along. The music seemed to wrap around his brain, smothering the small part of him that was telling him it was wrong. Desire flamed in him all of a sudden, and he began pulling off his shirt.
They thundered into the water at the same time, swimming out towards her. "That's more like it," she commented, letting a slight Germanic accent slip into her voice. As they reached her, the smile on her face became sharklike. "Catch me if you can!" With that, she dived beneath the surface.
I started to toss out a hint or two as to her origin here; the power of her voice, the Germanic accent. (Should have been German accent, damn it.) I kept it deliberately vague since I was seriously messing with the original legend for story purposes. If the show can make up demons, I can fudge some details myself.
"Hey!" Benny cried. "Where the hell'd she go?"
"Probably gonna steal our clothes," Max snapped, treading water and casting about for any sign of the beauty. "I told you this was a bad idea."
"Yeah, well--" Benny stopped, an odd expression on his face. "Whoa! Man, was that you?"
"What are you talking about?" Max cried as something smooth brushed against his legs.
Benny was chuckling. "Guess she's not gonna steal our clothes, huh?"
She surfaced between them, this time only up to her chin. "Believe me, boys, it's not your clothes I want." As Benny and Max grinned, her eyes suddenly flared crimson. "I'd much prefer your lives."
Ouch. Cornball line, that.
With that, a huge webbed claw punched through the surface of the water, grabbing Benny's head and yanking him under. Max screamed, but he was cut short as a tentacle lashed out of nowhere and coiled around his neck. The woman and the two boys disappeared beneath the surface in a churning, frothing whirlpool of scales and blood. Within a few moments, the struggles subsided and the bubbles faded. It was all over.
Should have been a second claw grabbing Max now that I think about it. But I wanted variety, and I was still keeping things vague - and I didn't have to write the fight scene if all the action was underwater and out of sight.
Several feet away, up the hill, an old van was parked on the shoulder of the turnpike. The man leaning against the van watched the carnage from afar with jaded disinterest. He lit a cigarette, taking a long drag before blowing out a cloud of blue smoke. "Any time now," he murmured, checking his watch.
Oh, yes, Malik. Fun guy. I've noticed that in the early seasons of Buffy, smokers were either bad guys or were somehow punished (the former counselor springs to mind). And he smokes like a chimney. Mainly to annoy Lori, I think.
As if on cue, the surface rippled, and she rose up from the lake, the water cascading over her hair and shoulders as she stepped onto the shore and gathered up her things, nonchalantly striding towards the van with her clothes in her arms and a satisfied smile on her face. "Have a good swim?" he asked, his voice muffled by the cigarette between his teeth.
She ignored the jibe, her manner all business. "Satisfying." With that, she opened the door and climbed in.
Lori is ALWAYS "all business." Unless she's hungry or pissed off.
He paused, eyeing the clouds that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "Storm be brewing, people," he annnounced as he flicked the cigarette away and opened the driver side door. "Let's move out."
And that storm, of course, is the same storm that heralded Mike dropping in on the Scooby Gang.
* * *
Sunday
And now for the morning after, so to speak.
The young man groaned, cracking his eyes open to meet the bright sunlight streaming in through the window. He winced at the sharp pain in his head, shutting his eyes tightly and rolling over again. The last time he'd had such a hangover was the morning after his twenty-first birthday. Of course, he hadn't been on active duty then.
Mike Corbett opened his eyes again, suddenly awake. Sunlight? On the space station, there was a decent artificial weather system, but the last time he checked his quarters were on the lower level.
At least, from what I'd seen of Lost Galaxy, the environmental domes had a simulated sky and sun (to make shooting cheaper), but all the scenes in offices, personal quarters, et al, showed a starfield out the windows. So that was my explanation, of sorts.
He sat straight up, blinking as his surroundings came into focus. Instead of his quarters on Terra Venture, he was lying in bed in someone else's bedroom, with the sunlight pouring in from the window beside his bed. Sitting up, he could glimpse through the window the trimmed lawns and neat sidewalks of a suburban street. For a few seconds, Mike just stared around him in utter confusion, wondering where he was and how he had come there.
As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, memory finally surfaced. The previous night was a montage of blurry images - being roused and helped out to a car, trying to stay awake during the drive, being ushered into an apartment. He somehow remembered having the strength to get a shower before collapsing into bed.
Giles is being awfully trusting, I realize, for a total stranger who fell out of nowhere. Then again, he could have locked Mike in the book cage and Mike wouldn't have noticed.
"So it wasn't a dream," he mumbled hoarsely. "Damn."
His pants and a clean black t-shirt were draped over a nearby chair. Groaning, Mike swung his legs out of bed, forcing himself to stand up despite the stiffness in his back and legs. He stretched, trying to ignore the complaints in his muscles, and got a decent look at himself in the mirror. Mike made a face as he gingerly touched the bandaged cut on his forehead; it was still a little tender. For the most part, he looked like a punching bag, but it was mostly a few scattered cuts and bruises. Considering what had happened, he was lucky.
Snapping himself back into reality, he pulled on the clean clothes, relieved to find that they fit, and then his old sneakers that had been left by the bed. Kai would have had a fit if he knew that Mike had gotten away with black Nikes instead of the regulation shoes, but no one had ever noticed when he reported for duty.
This detail was actually an in-joke, but for the life of me I can't recall what it was.
He stopped at that thought, trying to gather up the reality of his situation. As far as Kai knew, he was dead and gone. Same for Kendrix, Maya, Damon, and Leo. Leo, who was probably giving himself the mother of all guilt trips right now. His younger brother was anything but a stickler for the rules, but when it came down to it he cared about what mattered. Maybe too much. Mike sighed, wishing he could just call up Leo and tell him he was all right, that he wasn't dead.
That would have been nice; it would have spared the viewers a lot of angst in the first season of Lost Galaxy. (Leo fans, don't get mad at me, but Leo's angst and brooding over Mike's seeming death and handing Leo the Saber throughout the season just got old and started bordering on whiny.)
Then if that was true, where the hell was he? Mike had grown up in California, and he'd never heard of a town called Sunnydale. Not that he knew every town in the state. But something still seemed off. He remembered what the blonde - Buffy, what a name - had called him: "a Starship Troopers extra."
Most PR fans immediately compared the GSA uniforms to the ones from "Starship Troopers," and I figured Buffy would, too. It also provided Mike with a quick way of figuring out that he wasn't in Kansas anymore.
She hadn't recognized the uniform. With the massive media circus that had revolved around the formation of the GSA and then Terra Venture's launching, you'd have to live under a rock not to recognize it. So if he'd fallen into a portal to Earth somehow, this Earth was one that didn't have either the station or the GSA. Maybe it was some sort of time hole?
Time holes seem to be a dime a dozen in the Power Rangers universe, so I figured he'd make that assumption.
His headache was getting worse the more he tried to puzzle it over. Down the hall, he could hear voices and smell something cooking. Sighing, Mike stumbled into the bathroom, splashing some cold water on his face and combing his hair out of his eyes with his fingers before turning towards the stairs. Any speculation could wait until after breakfast.
* * *
"Don't you ever knock?" Giles did not look up from the stove as Buffy walked into the kitchen, having entered on her own.
Buffy showed not a twinge of guilt as Xander appeared beside her, with Cordelia in tow. "You didn't lock your door."
Heh. I dragged this into a bit of a running joke later on.
Xander spotted the bacon and eggs, and his eyes lit up. "Hey, new diet, Giles? Care to share with the rest of us?"
"Translation: Mind letting Xander inhale all of it?" Cordelia put in. At the wounded look he gave her, she sighed. "Oh, come on. We've all seen you eat."
Glancing at the clock, Giles sighed. "I may just have to." He turned off the stove, scraping some of the scrambled eggs onto a plate, offering some to Xander and Buffy in turn. "I'll pass," Cordelia said as he glanced at her. "I'm trying to cut out fat in my diet."
I have no idea why Cordelia is there. I assume she was bored and had nothing better to do. Or, more likely, Xander wheedled a ride out of her.
Xander snorted. "You don't know what you're missing."
"You eat enough for the both of us." As Giles continued to look at her expectantly, she sighed. "Maybe some orange juice. But not the kind with the little bits of pulp floating in it."
For once, I agree with Cordelia; I prefer pulp-free orange juice myself.
The Watcher sighed. "It's not as if there isn't enough to go around." He passed her a glass of orange juice, and she immediately took a seat.
"Oh, yeah," Buffy said, sitting down at the kitchen table. "How's Sleeping Beauty doing?"
"Still sleeping, I believe," Giles said as Xander sat down beside Cordelia. He set plates in front of them and reached for the teapot. "I thought I heard something moving upstairs, but he hasn't emerged yet."
Cordelia frowned. "So any idea who this guy is?"
"Uh, no, Cordy, he didn't give us his life story," Xander spoke between mouthfuls of food as he shoveled it down.
"I meant, like a demon in disguise," she retorted. "You know, along the lines of ugly, hairy, follicle-handicapped, vicious things?"
Buffy couldn't suppress a small smile. "Oh, no, it's not like we ever get any of those around here."
"We can rule out nocturnal demons," Giles answered. "The window in the guest room lets quite a bit of sunlight in, and when I checked it didn't affect him."
"I don't know," Xander said, still speaking with his mouth full. "Maybe some demon sent him or something." As Giles shot him a look, he added, "These are good eggs."
And yet he's staying in Giles' flat! I know, I know! Good thing he's harmless.
Shaking his head, Giles finished pouring the tea and sat down across from them, a steaming mug in his hands. "I'm not entirely sure. The storm that accompanied his arrival had a rather familiar configuration; it was fairly reminiscent of the energy discharge from a spell of summoning. However, supernatural creatures are often summoned."
The original explanation for Mike's appearance needs to be tweaked. All I can say now is that someone screwed up a summoning royally.
"I didn't pick up anything weird about him," Buffy said. "Aside from the fact he fell out of a vortex."
Buffy's "Slayer sense" seemed to get phased out in later seasons, but at this point I figured she was still relying on her instincts, and that Mike didn't "feel" wrong.
"Not to mention that outfit," Cordelia added. "Talk about a Star Wars reject."
"Starship Troopers," Buffy corrected her.
Cordelia sipped at the juice cautiously. "Whatever, they're all the same."
I can imagine a lot of readers getting indignant at that. What can I say, it's Season Three Cordelia.
Giles set down the tea. "Funny you should mention clothing." Standing up, he went into the living room. He returned with an olive colored jacket in his hands. "This jacket looked oddly military. Xander, you wouldn't recall anything from the - er, the Halloween incident - that could corroborate this?"
Again, it's still Season Three. Xander still hasn't totally forgotten his military training.
Xander took the jacket from him, looking it over. "Doesn't look familiar." He turned it over, peering at the insignia on the sleeve. "Hey, there's a logo here: 'GSA.' I don't know what that stands for."
"Greater Soccer Association?" Cordelia suggested. "Well," she added defensively, "I've heard of them."
"Galactic Security Agency," a voice answered. They all turned to see a very tired Mike standing in the doorway. There was a brief moment of tension before he yawned and shrugged tiredly. "That's what it was last week, at least."
After Lost Galaxy ended, I discovered that it really meant "Galactic Space Alliance." But Mike's offhand comment sort of got me out of that trap. And only Cordelia would get "Greater Soccer Association" out of that.
Xander opened his mouth to comment, but Cordelia kicked him before he could put his foot in it. Buffy spoke up before either of them could say something tactless. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Couple minutes. Not long." He shook his head to clear it, yawning again. "There enough for five?"
"There's enough for an army," Cordelia observed, shooting Giles a look. The Watcher merely raised an eyebrow in response. "If you sit down now," she added, checking her watch, "you might get some before Xander inhales it all."
Xander shook his fork at her, nearly flicking bits of egg on the table. "I'm a growing boy." She smiled over her glass of orange juice. Shaking his head, Mike pulled up a chair.
Regaining his composure, Giles passed a plate over to Mike. "I - I take it you slept well?"
"Like the dead," Mike answered.
Xander started coughing at that, and was silenced by another swift kick from Cordelia. "Ow! Watch it, Cordy, I kind of like having my ankles intact."
At Mike's questioning look, Buffy shrugged and smiled. "Bad choice of words."
Mike was silent for a long moment before speaking. "I'm not - I'm not a demon or anything. At least, not the last time I checked."
"Hmm?" Xander answered, feigning confusion well through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.
"When the people you're staying with talk about demons and the supernatural like it's an everyday thing," Mike continued, rubbing his eyes, "it's kind of hard not to listen in."
Unlike some crossovers, this one necessitated the exchange of secrets fairly early on, and this seemed as good a way to do it as any. I wanted to get the exposition out of the way.
Buffy sighed. "So much for pretending this was a normal morning."
Xander finally spoke without a full mouth. "Hey, somebody had to say it."
"Look," Mike interrupted, "I don't know what's going on or what the hell I'm doing here, but I'm guessing you know a bit more than I do."
"Perhaps," Giles admitted, removing his glasses briefly to clean them - the usual routine prior to an uncomfortable explanation. "Your appearance, such as it was, doesn't rank as one of the more odd occurrences in Sunnydale in the past few years. It's a long story, really, you see--"
Before he could launch into a long and fairly awkward explanation, Xander swallowed his mouthful and cut in. "Vampires are real. A lot of them live in Sunnydale. Buffy kills them. Has a lot to do with the fact the Mouth of Hell's right under this town."
"Okay, maybe not so long," Buffy added.
"Thank you, Xander," Giles snapped, putting his glasses back on. "I think."
Yes, thank you, Xander, for saving me from a long exposition scene. Bless you.
Mike's reaction was probably the most profound response one could make. "Oh."
His gaze flicked to Buffy, who nodded, her expression sincere. "It's true. I know it sounds weird, but it's true."
For a few moments, he simply sat there, going over something in his mind. "No," Mike finally decided, shaking his head. "It's not that weird. Not this week."
No, we've followed a girl through a portal to a weird planet, pulled out a weird sword, fought some strange aliens who got pissy and decided to turn the planet into stone and nearly fell to our death only to land in a high school library. It's going to take a lot to surprise Mike at this point.
Something else occurred to him. "What's the date?"
Again, the suspicion of time holes comes in here.
"November 22," Cordelia replied promptly. Seeing that the answer wasn't entirely satisfying, she added, "Uh, 1998." Mike winced. "Was that wrong?"
Oops. I'm going back into this story and bumping that date back another week. I totally forgot about Thanksgiving while writing this, and the fact that it's not mentioned Thursday or Friday is a major gaffe.
His only response was to groan and put his head in his hands.
Buffy reached over and took the jacket from Xander, inspecting the logo thoughtfully. "Galactic Security Agency," she repeated, turning to Mike. "I'm guessing that wasn't the date on your calendar."
He didn't lift his head. "Nope."
When Lost Galaxy started, I figured a few years had to have gone by since the end of the Space series - so there was time to build the space station, get the GSA together, et cetera. The fact that the Megaship from the prior series started out in a museum hinted that there'd been a jump of a few years. But later series kind of shot that premise to hell. Oh, well.
Giles waited a few moments before breaking the confused silence that followed. "I suppose that we all have quite a bit of explaining to do. That is," he added, "if we have any hope of figuring out what's going on."
The reaction was not very promising. Xander immediately dug back into the eggs. Cordelia became suddenly interested in her nails. Buffy looked up at the ceiling. Mike did not lift his head and appeared to be deep in concentration. From Giles' experience, the young man was most likely wondering what crime he'd committed in another life to deserve this kind of mess. Giles had pondered that several times himself.
Yeah, they're dreading the exposition as much as I was.
Buffy's ceiling contemplation was brief, since no one seemed all that eager to jump in. "Okay," the Slayer decided. "How about we discuss after breakfast?"
No one had any cause to argue.
The second half of this scene was rewritten twice. The original had Joyce, not the gang, stopping by, trying to ask Giles about a museum piece that had wound up in her gallery. But when I figured out the main plot of this story, that piece no longer had anything to do with the conflict, so I scrapped that and had Mike officially find out about the Hellmouth as early as possible. The only bad thing was that the conversation between Giles and Joyce was very tentative and in-character, an awkward meeting that showed the marks of "Band Candy." The voices were perfect, but the scene was cut because it had no relevance to the story anymore.
* * *
"This is IT?"
And yet another introduction to Relish, aka the Bad Guys That Took Over This Fanfic. Not in a bad way, though. I had lots of fun with them.
Sticking his head out the window like a dog panting for air, Malik peered at the landscape in disbelief. Considering he was driving the van that was cruising past the rather worn "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign into town, it was surprising that the vehicle was moving in a straight line.
Note: this is pre-"Lover's Walk," so Spike has yet to knock the sign down a second time. Not that it doesn't bear the marks of the first collision.
A hand shot out, grabbed a fistful of his dreadlocks and yanked him back into the cab. "Dammit, eyes on the road!"
Lori vs. Malik: Round one. The ice queen versus the loudmouthed, chain-smoking drummer. I loved writing these two snapping at one another. I actually had to trim down some of their arguments because they distracted from the plot.
"Owowowow! Knock it off, woman!" He recovered fairly gracefully, pulling over beside the curb before anything worse could happen. "And I use the term lightly," he added as she loosened her grip. "'Sides, Lori, you got to admit. This does not look like the place."
Paying lip service to how dull and suburban Sunnydale looks to the uninformed.
She did not answer, but opened the door and stepped out into the cool early-morning air, her eyes scanning for something that only she could see. For a few moments, she was silent as the other four occupants of the van stepped out as well. "You've got a point," she muttered reluctantly, looking disparagingly at the tame-looking scenery. "Although..."
Four? Need to fix that, there's only 3 others.
"This is it," a voice interrupted. The petite girl grinned, her smile a baring of teeth. "We're almost on top of the focus. Can't you just taste it?" she squealed, spinning around with arms wide as if to embrace everything around her. "We're going to have a blast."
The group so far: Lori the ice queen, Molly the loony Goth wannabe, and Malik, the smartmouth con man. The fourth member was deliberately ignored here; I had plans for Frank.
"Someone's had too much caffeine," Malik muttered.
And of course Mal pulls out the dash of reality here. In some ways, he initially seems to be the grounding force in this group. Unless he's arguing with Lori.
But Lori was shaking her head, lost in her own thoughts. "Don't underestimate her," she responded quietly. "Not after the stunt she pulled in Cleveland. She's as valuable as any of us."
Yep, a nod to "The Wish." These guys gravitate towards evil-infested areas.
He nodded, lowering his voice. "So what's the plan this time, babe? Get a packed house, feed, and split before they catch on?"
She chuckled at that. "They never catch on, you know that. But here...I think we should take a different approach."
Cue the ominous theme music.
Whew. Like I said, lots to comment on. :)
I'm actually going to try to go through the whole thing. I was originally going to just do a chapter or two, but there's just too much to talk about not to do it all. Here we go...
Disclaimer and Notes: Power Rangers Lost Galaxy and all related indicia belongs to Saban, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions. This is now the second story in a series called "Bloodlines," and you might not get what's going on til you go back and read "Wherever You Are." (But it'll only take a minute! Really!)
To save you the time and trouble, a quick recap: Mike falls into a crevice to his apparent death (the PRLG pilot). But he ends up getting dumped in the Scooby Gang's laps - quite literally, dropping out of a vortex in the library. He's only half-conscious, not dangerous, and Giles takes him in for the night. Said story was supposed to be a silly one-shot, but it opened up such a can of worms I couldn't help writing this.
Timeline - for PRLG, right after "Quasar Quest, part 2." For BtVS, shortly before "Lover's Walk." But Angel doesn't figure heavily into this. The prologue, incidentally, occurs during "Wherever You Are." This fanfic is rated TV-14 for language, violence, and some sexual suggestion. Well, it does take place in Sunnydale. "Solidify" is by Sheryl Crow in reality, but the lyrics seemed appropriate. A cybercookie to anyone who guesses just who else from the PR universe I kind of threw in.
I actually kept this fanfic pretty well in Season 3 canon for Buffy, actually. And while Angel wasn't supposed to figure heavily into this, I figured midway through the story that he probably had encountered Lorelei in his time. Oh, well. And I'm going to explain the PR references here anyway.
Thanks go out to: miko, for clarifying some of the Gingaman plotline ahead of schedule; AleXander Thompson, for his wonderful Buffy transcripts that kept my continuity straight; Spartacus and Catherine Lee for looking over the first draft of this; the folks on a.f.p-r for their discussions on how to explain around the PRLG plotholes; and you, for reading this. Let me know you did and I'll be even more thankful. :) (Translation: Please send feedback!)
This was the first story I wrote that required two betas to look it over. I hadn't written much in the way of Buffy fanfic prior to this, and wanted to make sure I could get a good handle on the characters and the dialogue. Most people who read it enjoyed it, and some crazy person actually nominated this for a Halo Award for Winter 2001 and made my year. So I think I succeeded. :)
New Blood
by Amanda Ohlin
Faith popped up and handed me the title, and while it may be a tad cliche, it fit beautifully.
Saturday
I tried to make it clear that the events of this story happen in just one week - Mike's first week in town - and that also provided a way to bring things full circle by the end of the story. This part actually takes place DURING the events of "Wherever You Are," but it's a necessary prologue to introduce the villains.
"So what's the big deal?" the smaller of the two boys crouched in the bushes muttered to his partner. "We've been sitting here for half an hour and I don't see nothing."
"Trust me, Max," his companion assured him. "It's almost eleven-thirty. She's been coming out here every night this week."
Max rubbed absently at his neck. "She better be. You sure we're not sitting in poison ivy? Cause if I break out again, Benny, I swear--"
"Shh!" Benny elbowed him, pointing. "Here she comes!"
So, are these two obvious cannon fodder or what?
The tall redhead strode towards the water's edge calmly, confidently, her movements as smooth and mercurial as the rippling surface of the lake. She walked like a model striding down the runway, almost as if she was perfectly aware she was being spied on. As she reached the lake, she kicked off her sandals, dipping a toe into the water as if to test it.
"Yeah, yeah, the water's fine, honey," Benny muttered from his vantage point in the bushes. "Go ahead, take a swim. Nobody's gonna see you."
She decided it was sufficient, and after a quick glance about, began to shed her clothes. Instead of hastily shuffling out of her jacket, tank top, and shorts, she took her time, letting each garment drop to the ground. With the last of her clothing discarded on the grass, she dived into the dark water, going under for a moment before resurfacing, her red hair glistening water-slicked against her skull. She treaded water for a few moments, humming some unknown tune before stopping and squinting. If Max didn't know better, he could have sworn she was staring right at them. Almost as if she heard his thoughts, she smiled, her green eyes fixating right on them.
I gave her red hair and green eyes as a nod to a lot of Mary Sues I'd seen at the time; she was intentionally evil, so it fit for me. Lori was actually derived from a German legend I did a bit of research on, although I admit I twisted some things around.
"You two can either watch," she called, "or you can join me."
Both boys froze at that invitation. "No way," Max whispered. "She can't."
"I can see you just fine," she purred, leaning back a bit in the water to give them a better look. Her red hair floated about her in the water like a cloud as she gave them a teasing smile. "Are you two men going to get in here, or am I going to have to swim all by myself?"
Max sat back on his heels, confused. Benny was already stripping off his shirt, murmuring, "Thank you, God, thank you, thank you, thank you..."
"What are you doing?" Max hissed as Benny stood up, stripping down to his boxers. "Isn't this a little too weird?"
Benny glanced over at the woman again, who was floating on her back in the water. "Too weird? There's a naked woman who wants us to go skinny-dipping with her, and all you can say is 'too weird?' Maxie, you can go back and hide under your bed, but I'm not going to pass this up because it's 'too weird.'" He started off, but paused. "You coming?"
Oh, yeah. They're dead men. It's official.
Max thought about it. As he did, the woman began to hum again, an odd, eerie melody that she seemed to be making up as she went along. The music seemed to wrap around his brain, smothering the small part of him that was telling him it was wrong. Desire flamed in him all of a sudden, and he began pulling off his shirt.
They thundered into the water at the same time, swimming out towards her. "That's more like it," she commented, letting a slight Germanic accent slip into her voice. As they reached her, the smile on her face became sharklike. "Catch me if you can!" With that, she dived beneath the surface.
I started to toss out a hint or two as to her origin here; the power of her voice, the Germanic accent. (Should have been German accent, damn it.) I kept it deliberately vague since I was seriously messing with the original legend for story purposes. If the show can make up demons, I can fudge some details myself.
"Hey!" Benny cried. "Where the hell'd she go?"
"Probably gonna steal our clothes," Max snapped, treading water and casting about for any sign of the beauty. "I told you this was a bad idea."
"Yeah, well--" Benny stopped, an odd expression on his face. "Whoa! Man, was that you?"
"What are you talking about?" Max cried as something smooth brushed against his legs.
Benny was chuckling. "Guess she's not gonna steal our clothes, huh?"
She surfaced between them, this time only up to her chin. "Believe me, boys, it's not your clothes I want." As Benny and Max grinned, her eyes suddenly flared crimson. "I'd much prefer your lives."
Ouch. Cornball line, that.
With that, a huge webbed claw punched through the surface of the water, grabbing Benny's head and yanking him under. Max screamed, but he was cut short as a tentacle lashed out of nowhere and coiled around his neck. The woman and the two boys disappeared beneath the surface in a churning, frothing whirlpool of scales and blood. Within a few moments, the struggles subsided and the bubbles faded. It was all over.
Should have been a second claw grabbing Max now that I think about it. But I wanted variety, and I was still keeping things vague - and I didn't have to write the fight scene if all the action was underwater and out of sight.
Several feet away, up the hill, an old van was parked on the shoulder of the turnpike. The man leaning against the van watched the carnage from afar with jaded disinterest. He lit a cigarette, taking a long drag before blowing out a cloud of blue smoke. "Any time now," he murmured, checking his watch.
Oh, yes, Malik. Fun guy. I've noticed that in the early seasons of Buffy, smokers were either bad guys or were somehow punished (the former counselor springs to mind). And he smokes like a chimney. Mainly to annoy Lori, I think.
As if on cue, the surface rippled, and she rose up from the lake, the water cascading over her hair and shoulders as she stepped onto the shore and gathered up her things, nonchalantly striding towards the van with her clothes in her arms and a satisfied smile on her face. "Have a good swim?" he asked, his voice muffled by the cigarette between his teeth.
She ignored the jibe, her manner all business. "Satisfying." With that, she opened the door and climbed in.
Lori is ALWAYS "all business." Unless she's hungry or pissed off.
He paused, eyeing the clouds that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "Storm be brewing, people," he annnounced as he flicked the cigarette away and opened the driver side door. "Let's move out."
And that storm, of course, is the same storm that heralded Mike dropping in on the Scooby Gang.
* * *
Sunday
And now for the morning after, so to speak.
The young man groaned, cracking his eyes open to meet the bright sunlight streaming in through the window. He winced at the sharp pain in his head, shutting his eyes tightly and rolling over again. The last time he'd had such a hangover was the morning after his twenty-first birthday. Of course, he hadn't been on active duty then.
Mike Corbett opened his eyes again, suddenly awake. Sunlight? On the space station, there was a decent artificial weather system, but the last time he checked his quarters were on the lower level.
At least, from what I'd seen of Lost Galaxy, the environmental domes had a simulated sky and sun (to make shooting cheaper), but all the scenes in offices, personal quarters, et al, showed a starfield out the windows. So that was my explanation, of sorts.
He sat straight up, blinking as his surroundings came into focus. Instead of his quarters on Terra Venture, he was lying in bed in someone else's bedroom, with the sunlight pouring in from the window beside his bed. Sitting up, he could glimpse through the window the trimmed lawns and neat sidewalks of a suburban street. For a few seconds, Mike just stared around him in utter confusion, wondering where he was and how he had come there.
As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, memory finally surfaced. The previous night was a montage of blurry images - being roused and helped out to a car, trying to stay awake during the drive, being ushered into an apartment. He somehow remembered having the strength to get a shower before collapsing into bed.
Giles is being awfully trusting, I realize, for a total stranger who fell out of nowhere. Then again, he could have locked Mike in the book cage and Mike wouldn't have noticed.
"So it wasn't a dream," he mumbled hoarsely. "Damn."
His pants and a clean black t-shirt were draped over a nearby chair. Groaning, Mike swung his legs out of bed, forcing himself to stand up despite the stiffness in his back and legs. He stretched, trying to ignore the complaints in his muscles, and got a decent look at himself in the mirror. Mike made a face as he gingerly touched the bandaged cut on his forehead; it was still a little tender. For the most part, he looked like a punching bag, but it was mostly a few scattered cuts and bruises. Considering what had happened, he was lucky.
Snapping himself back into reality, he pulled on the clean clothes, relieved to find that they fit, and then his old sneakers that had been left by the bed. Kai would have had a fit if he knew that Mike had gotten away with black Nikes instead of the regulation shoes, but no one had ever noticed when he reported for duty.
This detail was actually an in-joke, but for the life of me I can't recall what it was.
He stopped at that thought, trying to gather up the reality of his situation. As far as Kai knew, he was dead and gone. Same for Kendrix, Maya, Damon, and Leo. Leo, who was probably giving himself the mother of all guilt trips right now. His younger brother was anything but a stickler for the rules, but when it came down to it he cared about what mattered. Maybe too much. Mike sighed, wishing he could just call up Leo and tell him he was all right, that he wasn't dead.
That would have been nice; it would have spared the viewers a lot of angst in the first season of Lost Galaxy. (Leo fans, don't get mad at me, but Leo's angst and brooding over Mike's seeming death and handing Leo the Saber throughout the season just got old and started bordering on whiny.)
Then if that was true, where the hell was he? Mike had grown up in California, and he'd never heard of a town called Sunnydale. Not that he knew every town in the state. But something still seemed off. He remembered what the blonde - Buffy, what a name - had called him: "a Starship Troopers extra."
Most PR fans immediately compared the GSA uniforms to the ones from "Starship Troopers," and I figured Buffy would, too. It also provided Mike with a quick way of figuring out that he wasn't in Kansas anymore.
She hadn't recognized the uniform. With the massive media circus that had revolved around the formation of the GSA and then Terra Venture's launching, you'd have to live under a rock not to recognize it. So if he'd fallen into a portal to Earth somehow, this Earth was one that didn't have either the station or the GSA. Maybe it was some sort of time hole?
Time holes seem to be a dime a dozen in the Power Rangers universe, so I figured he'd make that assumption.
His headache was getting worse the more he tried to puzzle it over. Down the hall, he could hear voices and smell something cooking. Sighing, Mike stumbled into the bathroom, splashing some cold water on his face and combing his hair out of his eyes with his fingers before turning towards the stairs. Any speculation could wait until after breakfast.
* * *
"Don't you ever knock?" Giles did not look up from the stove as Buffy walked into the kitchen, having entered on her own.
Buffy showed not a twinge of guilt as Xander appeared beside her, with Cordelia in tow. "You didn't lock your door."
Heh. I dragged this into a bit of a running joke later on.
Xander spotted the bacon and eggs, and his eyes lit up. "Hey, new diet, Giles? Care to share with the rest of us?"
"Translation: Mind letting Xander inhale all of it?" Cordelia put in. At the wounded look he gave her, she sighed. "Oh, come on. We've all seen you eat."
Glancing at the clock, Giles sighed. "I may just have to." He turned off the stove, scraping some of the scrambled eggs onto a plate, offering some to Xander and Buffy in turn. "I'll pass," Cordelia said as he glanced at her. "I'm trying to cut out fat in my diet."
I have no idea why Cordelia is there. I assume she was bored and had nothing better to do. Or, more likely, Xander wheedled a ride out of her.
Xander snorted. "You don't know what you're missing."
"You eat enough for the both of us." As Giles continued to look at her expectantly, she sighed. "Maybe some orange juice. But not the kind with the little bits of pulp floating in it."
For once, I agree with Cordelia; I prefer pulp-free orange juice myself.
The Watcher sighed. "It's not as if there isn't enough to go around." He passed her a glass of orange juice, and she immediately took a seat.
"Oh, yeah," Buffy said, sitting down at the kitchen table. "How's Sleeping Beauty doing?"
"Still sleeping, I believe," Giles said as Xander sat down beside Cordelia. He set plates in front of them and reached for the teapot. "I thought I heard something moving upstairs, but he hasn't emerged yet."
Cordelia frowned. "So any idea who this guy is?"
"Uh, no, Cordy, he didn't give us his life story," Xander spoke between mouthfuls of food as he shoveled it down.
"I meant, like a demon in disguise," she retorted. "You know, along the lines of ugly, hairy, follicle-handicapped, vicious things?"
Buffy couldn't suppress a small smile. "Oh, no, it's not like we ever get any of those around here."
"We can rule out nocturnal demons," Giles answered. "The window in the guest room lets quite a bit of sunlight in, and when I checked it didn't affect him."
"I don't know," Xander said, still speaking with his mouth full. "Maybe some demon sent him or something." As Giles shot him a look, he added, "These are good eggs."
And yet he's staying in Giles' flat! I know, I know! Good thing he's harmless.
Shaking his head, Giles finished pouring the tea and sat down across from them, a steaming mug in his hands. "I'm not entirely sure. The storm that accompanied his arrival had a rather familiar configuration; it was fairly reminiscent of the energy discharge from a spell of summoning. However, supernatural creatures are often summoned."
The original explanation for Mike's appearance needs to be tweaked. All I can say now is that someone screwed up a summoning royally.
"I didn't pick up anything weird about him," Buffy said. "Aside from the fact he fell out of a vortex."
Buffy's "Slayer sense" seemed to get phased out in later seasons, but at this point I figured she was still relying on her instincts, and that Mike didn't "feel" wrong.
"Not to mention that outfit," Cordelia added. "Talk about a Star Wars reject."
"Starship Troopers," Buffy corrected her.
Cordelia sipped at the juice cautiously. "Whatever, they're all the same."
I can imagine a lot of readers getting indignant at that. What can I say, it's Season Three Cordelia.
Giles set down the tea. "Funny you should mention clothing." Standing up, he went into the living room. He returned with an olive colored jacket in his hands. "This jacket looked oddly military. Xander, you wouldn't recall anything from the - er, the Halloween incident - that could corroborate this?"
Again, it's still Season Three. Xander still hasn't totally forgotten his military training.
Xander took the jacket from him, looking it over. "Doesn't look familiar." He turned it over, peering at the insignia on the sleeve. "Hey, there's a logo here: 'GSA.' I don't know what that stands for."
"Greater Soccer Association?" Cordelia suggested. "Well," she added defensively, "I've heard of them."
"Galactic Security Agency," a voice answered. They all turned to see a very tired Mike standing in the doorway. There was a brief moment of tension before he yawned and shrugged tiredly. "That's what it was last week, at least."
After Lost Galaxy ended, I discovered that it really meant "Galactic Space Alliance." But Mike's offhand comment sort of got me out of that trap. And only Cordelia would get "Greater Soccer Association" out of that.
Xander opened his mouth to comment, but Cordelia kicked him before he could put his foot in it. Buffy spoke up before either of them could say something tactless. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Couple minutes. Not long." He shook his head to clear it, yawning again. "There enough for five?"
"There's enough for an army," Cordelia observed, shooting Giles a look. The Watcher merely raised an eyebrow in response. "If you sit down now," she added, checking her watch, "you might get some before Xander inhales it all."
Xander shook his fork at her, nearly flicking bits of egg on the table. "I'm a growing boy." She smiled over her glass of orange juice. Shaking his head, Mike pulled up a chair.
Regaining his composure, Giles passed a plate over to Mike. "I - I take it you slept well?"
"Like the dead," Mike answered.
Xander started coughing at that, and was silenced by another swift kick from Cordelia. "Ow! Watch it, Cordy, I kind of like having my ankles intact."
At Mike's questioning look, Buffy shrugged and smiled. "Bad choice of words."
Mike was silent for a long moment before speaking. "I'm not - I'm not a demon or anything. At least, not the last time I checked."
"Hmm?" Xander answered, feigning confusion well through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.
"When the people you're staying with talk about demons and the supernatural like it's an everyday thing," Mike continued, rubbing his eyes, "it's kind of hard not to listen in."
Unlike some crossovers, this one necessitated the exchange of secrets fairly early on, and this seemed as good a way to do it as any. I wanted to get the exposition out of the way.
Buffy sighed. "So much for pretending this was a normal morning."
Xander finally spoke without a full mouth. "Hey, somebody had to say it."
"Look," Mike interrupted, "I don't know what's going on or what the hell I'm doing here, but I'm guessing you know a bit more than I do."
"Perhaps," Giles admitted, removing his glasses briefly to clean them - the usual routine prior to an uncomfortable explanation. "Your appearance, such as it was, doesn't rank as one of the more odd occurrences in Sunnydale in the past few years. It's a long story, really, you see--"
Before he could launch into a long and fairly awkward explanation, Xander swallowed his mouthful and cut in. "Vampires are real. A lot of them live in Sunnydale. Buffy kills them. Has a lot to do with the fact the Mouth of Hell's right under this town."
"Okay, maybe not so long," Buffy added.
"Thank you, Xander," Giles snapped, putting his glasses back on. "I think."
Yes, thank you, Xander, for saving me from a long exposition scene. Bless you.
Mike's reaction was probably the most profound response one could make. "Oh."
His gaze flicked to Buffy, who nodded, her expression sincere. "It's true. I know it sounds weird, but it's true."
For a few moments, he simply sat there, going over something in his mind. "No," Mike finally decided, shaking his head. "It's not that weird. Not this week."
No, we've followed a girl through a portal to a weird planet, pulled out a weird sword, fought some strange aliens who got pissy and decided to turn the planet into stone and nearly fell to our death only to land in a high school library. It's going to take a lot to surprise Mike at this point.
Something else occurred to him. "What's the date?"
Again, the suspicion of time holes comes in here.
"November 22," Cordelia replied promptly. Seeing that the answer wasn't entirely satisfying, she added, "Uh, 1998." Mike winced. "Was that wrong?"
Oops. I'm going back into this story and bumping that date back another week. I totally forgot about Thanksgiving while writing this, and the fact that it's not mentioned Thursday or Friday is a major gaffe.
His only response was to groan and put his head in his hands.
Buffy reached over and took the jacket from Xander, inspecting the logo thoughtfully. "Galactic Security Agency," she repeated, turning to Mike. "I'm guessing that wasn't the date on your calendar."
He didn't lift his head. "Nope."
When Lost Galaxy started, I figured a few years had to have gone by since the end of the Space series - so there was time to build the space station, get the GSA together, et cetera. The fact that the Megaship from the prior series started out in a museum hinted that there'd been a jump of a few years. But later series kind of shot that premise to hell. Oh, well.
Giles waited a few moments before breaking the confused silence that followed. "I suppose that we all have quite a bit of explaining to do. That is," he added, "if we have any hope of figuring out what's going on."
The reaction was not very promising. Xander immediately dug back into the eggs. Cordelia became suddenly interested in her nails. Buffy looked up at the ceiling. Mike did not lift his head and appeared to be deep in concentration. From Giles' experience, the young man was most likely wondering what crime he'd committed in another life to deserve this kind of mess. Giles had pondered that several times himself.
Yeah, they're dreading the exposition as much as I was.
Buffy's ceiling contemplation was brief, since no one seemed all that eager to jump in. "Okay," the Slayer decided. "How about we discuss after breakfast?"
No one had any cause to argue.
The second half of this scene was rewritten twice. The original had Joyce, not the gang, stopping by, trying to ask Giles about a museum piece that had wound up in her gallery. But when I figured out the main plot of this story, that piece no longer had anything to do with the conflict, so I scrapped that and had Mike officially find out about the Hellmouth as early as possible. The only bad thing was that the conversation between Giles and Joyce was very tentative and in-character, an awkward meeting that showed the marks of "Band Candy." The voices were perfect, but the scene was cut because it had no relevance to the story anymore.
* * *
"This is IT?"
And yet another introduction to Relish, aka the Bad Guys That Took Over This Fanfic. Not in a bad way, though. I had lots of fun with them.
Sticking his head out the window like a dog panting for air, Malik peered at the landscape in disbelief. Considering he was driving the van that was cruising past the rather worn "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign into town, it was surprising that the vehicle was moving in a straight line.
Note: this is pre-"Lover's Walk," so Spike has yet to knock the sign down a second time. Not that it doesn't bear the marks of the first collision.
A hand shot out, grabbed a fistful of his dreadlocks and yanked him back into the cab. "Dammit, eyes on the road!"
Lori vs. Malik: Round one. The ice queen versus the loudmouthed, chain-smoking drummer. I loved writing these two snapping at one another. I actually had to trim down some of their arguments because they distracted from the plot.
"Owowowow! Knock it off, woman!" He recovered fairly gracefully, pulling over beside the curb before anything worse could happen. "And I use the term lightly," he added as she loosened her grip. "'Sides, Lori, you got to admit. This does not look like the place."
Paying lip service to how dull and suburban Sunnydale looks to the uninformed.
She did not answer, but opened the door and stepped out into the cool early-morning air, her eyes scanning for something that only she could see. For a few moments, she was silent as the other four occupants of the van stepped out as well. "You've got a point," she muttered reluctantly, looking disparagingly at the tame-looking scenery. "Although..."
Four? Need to fix that, there's only 3 others.
"This is it," a voice interrupted. The petite girl grinned, her smile a baring of teeth. "We're almost on top of the focus. Can't you just taste it?" she squealed, spinning around with arms wide as if to embrace everything around her. "We're going to have a blast."
The group so far: Lori the ice queen, Molly the loony Goth wannabe, and Malik, the smartmouth con man. The fourth member was deliberately ignored here; I had plans for Frank.
"Someone's had too much caffeine," Malik muttered.
And of course Mal pulls out the dash of reality here. In some ways, he initially seems to be the grounding force in this group. Unless he's arguing with Lori.
But Lori was shaking her head, lost in her own thoughts. "Don't underestimate her," she responded quietly. "Not after the stunt she pulled in Cleveland. She's as valuable as any of us."
Yep, a nod to "The Wish." These guys gravitate towards evil-infested areas.
He nodded, lowering his voice. "So what's the plan this time, babe? Get a packed house, feed, and split before they catch on?"
She chuckled at that. "They never catch on, you know that. But here...I think we should take a different approach."
Cue the ominous theme music.
Whew. Like I said, lots to comment on. :)
