locker_monster (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
locker_monster) wrote2011-02-26 04:40 pm
locker_monster) wrote2011-02-26 04:40 pm
Entry tags:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Doctor Who crossover fic: The Last (3/7)
Title: The Last (3/7)
Rating: PG
Characters: Giles, Ten
Timeline: Post-"Last of the Time Lords" for Doctor Who and pre-season eight for Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Spoilers for season eight.
Summary: With demons threatening the safety of the planet, the Doctor turns to the one person he knows who can help: Rupert Giles. Can the two of them save the day without losing their heads?
Disclaimer: You know the drill. BBC. Joss Whedon.
A/N: Thanks again to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
quean_of_swords for the awesome beta.
Chapter One. Chapter Two.
One Canada Square in the heart of Canary Wharf blazed like a column of fire. The lights in the building were always on; a symbol to prove that business never stopped, not even in the wee hours of the morning.
How ironic that Giles had been thinking of home only minutes ago and here he was now, standing on some rooftop in his native city. But he expected nothing less from a group of demons who had a history with the Watchers Council. London had been the seat of power for the Council for centuries.
Giles tore his gaze away from One Canada Square. They were here in an official capacity. He could muse about being home when there weren’t demons threatening the well-being of the city.
He joined the Doctor near the edge of the rooftop. “It’s that warehouse there.” He pointed to the building across from them, a few yards separating the two.
At a glance, the warehouse looked abandoned. The windows that weren’t boarded over were cracked and grimy. Layers of graffiti coated the brickwork. Any signage had faded away ages ago, leaving the building nameless and faceless. And yet, there were lights on inside and deformed shadows flitted by. A passing police officer might have thought there were drug users inside but that thought would never be followed up.
“Here.” The Doctor dug around his inner suit pocket for a moment before pulling out a pair of weather field glasses. He handed it over to Giles. “Used by General Arthur Currie at the Battle of Vimy Ridge.”
Giles accepted the field glasses with a furrowed brow. The veracity of the Doctor’s statement wasn’t in question. The man had often boasted about meeting historical figures, much to the delight of the Council’s historians. No, it was the fact that there was no way the old binoculars could have fit in the Doctor’s suit pocket without producing a noticeable bulge. Giles hadn’t noticed before but even the Doctor’s clothes had out of the ordinary properties.
He brought the field glasses up to his eyes and tried to focus on the present. With the aid of the focused lenses he was able to catch a clearer glimpse of the shapes inside. The seven foot demons with black scaly hides and bony ridges on their heads looked formidable but not familiar.
“Who are they?” asked Giles. He handed the field glasses back to the Doctor.
“The Council called them the Mind Eaters. It’s said they can strip away everything that makes a man who he is.”
“Is that true?”
“Nah, it’s a myth, like feeding sherbet to seagulls will cause them to explode. They’re master manipulators but they can’t unmake a person.”
“But they posed enough of a threat that the Council chose to send them away instead of sending the Slayer after them.”
“The Mind Eaters were causing conflicts between various demonic clans and driving the lower creatures to insanity. The chaos might have overthrown the planet if the Council hadn’t acted. For once, they knew not to risk the life of the Slayer.”
Forty years ago. His grandmother had been on the Council back then. But Giles had read every diary of hers and he had no memory of ever seeing a mention of the Mind Eaters and his grandmother had been meticulous about keeping updated entries. “How do you know so much?” he asked the Doctor. “I’ve never seen any record of this.”
“Your grandfather owned a bakery.” The Doctor turned and walked away without elaborating further.
Giles was used to the Doctor’s tangents, but this one certainly threw him for a loop. The Doctor had met his grandfather? Or was the man suggesting he had been there when the Council initially banished the Mind Eaters? He knew there was a reason he disliked time travel. It was impossible to keep things straight.
He hurried to catch up with the Doctor and he found the man heading down a set of metal stairs attached to the side of the building. When the Doctor spoke next, he acted as if there had been no break in the conversation. “They’re thousands strong so they can know everything about us in an instant. Just focus on discussing the truce and nothing else.”
Experience had taught Giles that most telepaths had the common courtesy to skim the surface of your mind but they never delved further. He doubted the Mind Eaters would be as kind. The Doctor may have had faith that mere words could solve their problem, but Giles wanted to be prepared in case the situation took a turn for the worse. He unzipped his satchel as they walked and he positioned the handle of a short sword so he could easily pull it free.
Without an air of caution, the Doctor walked right up to the main doors of the warehouse and he pulled one of the doors aside. Years of neglect and wet English weather had rusted the door and a horrible screech sounded as it slid along its track. Giles was sure people on the other side of the Thames heard the racket.
The Doctor managed to slide the door open about two feet when a clawed hand wrapped around the edge of the door and yanked it out of his grip. The rest of the Mind Eater quickly emerged, uncoiling from the shadows like a wily snake. The reptile comparison was apt. The demon’s hide had a similar diamond pattern.
The Mind Eater stared down at the Doctor, letting out a deep growl. Its gaze seemed to be fixed on him, but its milky white eyes reminded Giles of cataracts.
“Hello, we’re from the Watchers Council.” Giles took that as his cue and he took up a position next to the Doctor.
The demon smelled strongly of leather and sulphur. Its armour was old, stained with the blood of past victims, but it was well cared for. Any damage had been repaired with precise handiwork. If anything, it said the demon could take a beating and come back for more.
“Your kind has broken a truce with the Council,” said Giles, summoning the voice he usually used when addressing a squad of inexperienced Slayers. “It was agreed you were never to return to this realm.”
The Mind Eater growled again, but it stepped aside, allowing them entrance to the warehouse. A few steps past the threshold and Giles immediately noticed how hot it was inside. It wasn’t just because it was a cool evening outside. Inside the warehouse, fires and furnaces blazed, giving off a hellish amount of heat. He broke out in a sweat but he resisted the urge to reach for his handkerchief.
In the centre of the room, a group of six Mind Eaters sat cross-legged in a circle. They seemed to be meditating while others of their kind stoked the flames in the furnaces. The demons appeared unaffected by the intense heat and some reached into the bare flames without any protection. Giles counted perhaps thirty in total. It wasn’t an army of thousands but they were still outnumbered.
The door sentry forced them towards the group of six. The other Mind Eaters stopped what they were doing to stare at them, uttering no words. Giles inched his hand closer to the handle of the sword.
The largest Mind Eater in the group rose to its feet, its clawed feet clacking against the dusty concrete floor. Old scars marred its black hide and its armour was thicker and more ornate than the others’, all hallmarks of a leader. The demon stooped down and it shoved its face into Giles’, leaving a mere inch between them. The Mind Eater sneered, flashing its pointed teeth, and the stench of dead flesh was suddenly overpowering. Giles’ eyes watered and he tried not to flinch.
If it was some sort of test, it seemed he passed. The Mind Eater leader rose back up to its full height and it grumbled one word in a booming voice. “Speak.”
A drop of sweat slid down Giles’ temple. The warehouse was absolutely stifling. “You are in violation of the terms established in the truce set down by the Watchers Council. If you do not leave now, we will be forced to take immediate action.”
The demon growled deep in its chest. “You are not the Council.”
“I’m a representative–” Giles had no chance to continue.
The Mind Eater surged forward and one of its clawed hands came down on Giles’ head. For a brief second he thought the demon meant to twist his neck and he reached for his sword.
A wave of memories hit him from out of nowhere, and the events of his life for the past few months flashed before his eyes. City after city, from one hotel to the next, straight across the globe. Hundreds of Slayers, all with great potential, but only a handful with the possible power that he sought. The Council’s myth, left to him like everything else–
The Mind Eater leader broke contact and Giles swayed on his feet. A pair of hands steadied him and he looked up to find the Doctor supporting some of his weight. The man’s mouth was set in a grim line.
Something akin to laughter sounded from the Mind Eater. “The Watchers Council,” it boomed, “is dead.” The amused hiss was taken up by the rest of the demons in the warehouse.
“And all of you together couldn’t shake that loose.” The demons stopped laughing and their leader glared at the Doctor, displeased the man had the gall to speak. “You’re losing your touch.”
Casually, the Doctor walked up to the Mind Eater leader, his hands in his trouser pockets. Two worker Mind Eaters came up behind Giles without warning and one stripped the satchel from his side. The other bound his arms, preventing him from coming to the Doctor’s aid. Forced to watch, he hoped the man knew what he was doing.
The Doctor looked miniscule next to the large demon but he carried on like he was the giant of the two. “I was expecting thousands of you and what do we find? Thirty. Where are your mighty armies that made men tremble?”
The Mind Eater leader shoved its face close to the Doctor’s and bared its teeth. A beat passed and then the Doctor smiled. “Having troubles? Allow me.”
He brought up his hands and put them on either side of the demon’s head. The contact was brief. The Mind Eater pulled away with a snarl and it delivered a quick back hand across the Doctor’s face. The sound of leather striking flesh was like a whip snapping and the Doctor was bowled off his feet. He fell to the floor, stirring up the layer of dust and ash that covered the ground. A trickle of blood ran down from his nose.
The Mind Eater holding Giles let go of him, allowing the demon’s leader to grab him by the front of his shirt. With one hand, it lifted Giles clear off the ground, putting them eye to eye. “This world will burn.”
Trapped in the Mind Eater’s grip, Giles was dragged along as the demon stalked across the room. Another Mind Eater picked up the Doctor, who was still mildly disoriented from the blow, and they followed behind the leader as though they were in some twisted parade procession.
They past by furnaces spewing out heat and flames like the dragons of old. Giles saw shapes within the flames and some of the Mind Eaters seemed to be tending to them. One Mind Eater ahead of them opened the door of a large furnace and the orange flames were reflected on its black hide.
He pictured the demons throwing him and the Doctor into those unforgiving flames, but much to his relief, the Mind Eater leader strode past the open furnace. It took them down a narrow corridor out of the way from the main room. Old offices and storage spaces lined the hall.
Giles was tossed into a dark, windowless room. He managed to keep his footing but the Doctor wasn’t as fortunate. The man stumbled and he fell to his knees, adding further stains to his suit. The last thing Giles saw before the Mind Eater leader closed the door was the wide grin on its face. Then darkness fell and all Giles was left with was the pounding of his heart in his chest.
Rating: PG
Characters: Giles, Ten
Timeline: Post-"Last of the Time Lords" for Doctor Who and pre-season eight for Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Spoilers for season eight.
Summary: With demons threatening the safety of the planet, the Doctor turns to the one person he knows who can help: Rupert Giles. Can the two of them save the day without losing their heads?
Disclaimer: You know the drill. BBC. Joss Whedon.
A/N: Thanks again to
quean_of_swords for the awesome beta.Chapter One. Chapter Two.
One Canada Square in the heart of Canary Wharf blazed like a column of fire. The lights in the building were always on; a symbol to prove that business never stopped, not even in the wee hours of the morning.
How ironic that Giles had been thinking of home only minutes ago and here he was now, standing on some rooftop in his native city. But he expected nothing less from a group of demons who had a history with the Watchers Council. London had been the seat of power for the Council for centuries.
Giles tore his gaze away from One Canada Square. They were here in an official capacity. He could muse about being home when there weren’t demons threatening the well-being of the city.
He joined the Doctor near the edge of the rooftop. “It’s that warehouse there.” He pointed to the building across from them, a few yards separating the two.
At a glance, the warehouse looked abandoned. The windows that weren’t boarded over were cracked and grimy. Layers of graffiti coated the brickwork. Any signage had faded away ages ago, leaving the building nameless and faceless. And yet, there were lights on inside and deformed shadows flitted by. A passing police officer might have thought there were drug users inside but that thought would never be followed up.
“Here.” The Doctor dug around his inner suit pocket for a moment before pulling out a pair of weather field glasses. He handed it over to Giles. “Used by General Arthur Currie at the Battle of Vimy Ridge.”
Giles accepted the field glasses with a furrowed brow. The veracity of the Doctor’s statement wasn’t in question. The man had often boasted about meeting historical figures, much to the delight of the Council’s historians. No, it was the fact that there was no way the old binoculars could have fit in the Doctor’s suit pocket without producing a noticeable bulge. Giles hadn’t noticed before but even the Doctor’s clothes had out of the ordinary properties.
He brought the field glasses up to his eyes and tried to focus on the present. With the aid of the focused lenses he was able to catch a clearer glimpse of the shapes inside. The seven foot demons with black scaly hides and bony ridges on their heads looked formidable but not familiar.
“Who are they?” asked Giles. He handed the field glasses back to the Doctor.
“The Council called them the Mind Eaters. It’s said they can strip away everything that makes a man who he is.”
“Is that true?”
“Nah, it’s a myth, like feeding sherbet to seagulls will cause them to explode. They’re master manipulators but they can’t unmake a person.”
“But they posed enough of a threat that the Council chose to send them away instead of sending the Slayer after them.”
“The Mind Eaters were causing conflicts between various demonic clans and driving the lower creatures to insanity. The chaos might have overthrown the planet if the Council hadn’t acted. For once, they knew not to risk the life of the Slayer.”
Forty years ago. His grandmother had been on the Council back then. But Giles had read every diary of hers and he had no memory of ever seeing a mention of the Mind Eaters and his grandmother had been meticulous about keeping updated entries. “How do you know so much?” he asked the Doctor. “I’ve never seen any record of this.”
“Your grandfather owned a bakery.” The Doctor turned and walked away without elaborating further.
Giles was used to the Doctor’s tangents, but this one certainly threw him for a loop. The Doctor had met his grandfather? Or was the man suggesting he had been there when the Council initially banished the Mind Eaters? He knew there was a reason he disliked time travel. It was impossible to keep things straight.
He hurried to catch up with the Doctor and he found the man heading down a set of metal stairs attached to the side of the building. When the Doctor spoke next, he acted as if there had been no break in the conversation. “They’re thousands strong so they can know everything about us in an instant. Just focus on discussing the truce and nothing else.”
Experience had taught Giles that most telepaths had the common courtesy to skim the surface of your mind but they never delved further. He doubted the Mind Eaters would be as kind. The Doctor may have had faith that mere words could solve their problem, but Giles wanted to be prepared in case the situation took a turn for the worse. He unzipped his satchel as they walked and he positioned the handle of a short sword so he could easily pull it free.
Without an air of caution, the Doctor walked right up to the main doors of the warehouse and he pulled one of the doors aside. Years of neglect and wet English weather had rusted the door and a horrible screech sounded as it slid along its track. Giles was sure people on the other side of the Thames heard the racket.
The Doctor managed to slide the door open about two feet when a clawed hand wrapped around the edge of the door and yanked it out of his grip. The rest of the Mind Eater quickly emerged, uncoiling from the shadows like a wily snake. The reptile comparison was apt. The demon’s hide had a similar diamond pattern.
The Mind Eater stared down at the Doctor, letting out a deep growl. Its gaze seemed to be fixed on him, but its milky white eyes reminded Giles of cataracts.
“Hello, we’re from the Watchers Council.” Giles took that as his cue and he took up a position next to the Doctor.
The demon smelled strongly of leather and sulphur. Its armour was old, stained with the blood of past victims, but it was well cared for. Any damage had been repaired with precise handiwork. If anything, it said the demon could take a beating and come back for more.
“Your kind has broken a truce with the Council,” said Giles, summoning the voice he usually used when addressing a squad of inexperienced Slayers. “It was agreed you were never to return to this realm.”
The Mind Eater growled again, but it stepped aside, allowing them entrance to the warehouse. A few steps past the threshold and Giles immediately noticed how hot it was inside. It wasn’t just because it was a cool evening outside. Inside the warehouse, fires and furnaces blazed, giving off a hellish amount of heat. He broke out in a sweat but he resisted the urge to reach for his handkerchief.
In the centre of the room, a group of six Mind Eaters sat cross-legged in a circle. They seemed to be meditating while others of their kind stoked the flames in the furnaces. The demons appeared unaffected by the intense heat and some reached into the bare flames without any protection. Giles counted perhaps thirty in total. It wasn’t an army of thousands but they were still outnumbered.
The door sentry forced them towards the group of six. The other Mind Eaters stopped what they were doing to stare at them, uttering no words. Giles inched his hand closer to the handle of the sword.
The largest Mind Eater in the group rose to its feet, its clawed feet clacking against the dusty concrete floor. Old scars marred its black hide and its armour was thicker and more ornate than the others’, all hallmarks of a leader. The demon stooped down and it shoved its face into Giles’, leaving a mere inch between them. The Mind Eater sneered, flashing its pointed teeth, and the stench of dead flesh was suddenly overpowering. Giles’ eyes watered and he tried not to flinch.
If it was some sort of test, it seemed he passed. The Mind Eater leader rose back up to its full height and it grumbled one word in a booming voice. “Speak.”
A drop of sweat slid down Giles’ temple. The warehouse was absolutely stifling. “You are in violation of the terms established in the truce set down by the Watchers Council. If you do not leave now, we will be forced to take immediate action.”
The demon growled deep in its chest. “You are not the Council.”
“I’m a representative–” Giles had no chance to continue.
The Mind Eater surged forward and one of its clawed hands came down on Giles’ head. For a brief second he thought the demon meant to twist his neck and he reached for his sword.
A wave of memories hit him from out of nowhere, and the events of his life for the past few months flashed before his eyes. City after city, from one hotel to the next, straight across the globe. Hundreds of Slayers, all with great potential, but only a handful with the possible power that he sought. The Council’s myth, left to him like everything else–
The Mind Eater leader broke contact and Giles swayed on his feet. A pair of hands steadied him and he looked up to find the Doctor supporting some of his weight. The man’s mouth was set in a grim line.
Something akin to laughter sounded from the Mind Eater. “The Watchers Council,” it boomed, “is dead.” The amused hiss was taken up by the rest of the demons in the warehouse.
“And all of you together couldn’t shake that loose.” The demons stopped laughing and their leader glared at the Doctor, displeased the man had the gall to speak. “You’re losing your touch.”
Casually, the Doctor walked up to the Mind Eater leader, his hands in his trouser pockets. Two worker Mind Eaters came up behind Giles without warning and one stripped the satchel from his side. The other bound his arms, preventing him from coming to the Doctor’s aid. Forced to watch, he hoped the man knew what he was doing.
The Doctor looked miniscule next to the large demon but he carried on like he was the giant of the two. “I was expecting thousands of you and what do we find? Thirty. Where are your mighty armies that made men tremble?”
The Mind Eater leader shoved its face close to the Doctor’s and bared its teeth. A beat passed and then the Doctor smiled. “Having troubles? Allow me.”
He brought up his hands and put them on either side of the demon’s head. The contact was brief. The Mind Eater pulled away with a snarl and it delivered a quick back hand across the Doctor’s face. The sound of leather striking flesh was like a whip snapping and the Doctor was bowled off his feet. He fell to the floor, stirring up the layer of dust and ash that covered the ground. A trickle of blood ran down from his nose.
The Mind Eater holding Giles let go of him, allowing the demon’s leader to grab him by the front of his shirt. With one hand, it lifted Giles clear off the ground, putting them eye to eye. “This world will burn.”
Trapped in the Mind Eater’s grip, Giles was dragged along as the demon stalked across the room. Another Mind Eater picked up the Doctor, who was still mildly disoriented from the blow, and they followed behind the leader as though they were in some twisted parade procession.
They past by furnaces spewing out heat and flames like the dragons of old. Giles saw shapes within the flames and some of the Mind Eaters seemed to be tending to them. One Mind Eater ahead of them opened the door of a large furnace and the orange flames were reflected on its black hide.
He pictured the demons throwing him and the Doctor into those unforgiving flames, but much to his relief, the Mind Eater leader strode past the open furnace. It took them down a narrow corridor out of the way from the main room. Old offices and storage spaces lined the hall.
Giles was tossed into a dark, windowless room. He managed to keep his footing but the Doctor wasn’t as fortunate. The man stumbled and he fell to his knees, adding further stains to his suit. The last thing Giles saw before the Mind Eater leader closed the door was the wide grin on its face. Then darkness fell and all Giles was left with was the pounding of his heart in his chest.