Fan Fiction ❯ Quickened ❯ Cassandra ( Chapter 17 )

They brought her out of the dark together, Angel and Wesley. Out of the greater darkness and into the lesser. She was bound to her gurney, and she thrashed and writhed like a caged beast. A group of armed guards flanked them on either side.

 

“Chain her into the van,” Angel ordered. “I want armed guards ridin' with her in the back.”

 

Andrew came up from the basement. “That's all right, boys. I'll take it from here.”

 

Angel quirked an eyebrow and gave Andrew a dubious look. “What?”

 

Andrew held up a conciliatory hand. “Totally 'preciate your help on this one, big guy. Never could've found her without you, but you got enough problems of your own to worry about.”

 

“Get outta the way, Andrew.”

 

Andrew stepped into Angel's path, between the van and the vampire, and his armed guards. “She's a Slayer,” he said, filled with resolve, “That means she's ours.”

 

“Yeah. Sorry. Not how it works.” Angel looked towards the guards. “Load her up. Don't hesitate to tranq her if she so much as...”

 

Andrew took an aggressive step forward and stood up as straight as he could. “No. I don't think you heard me, Angel.” As he spoke, a group of young women came walking out of the shadows of the nearby buildings to back up the would-be-watcher. “Think we're just gonna let you take her back to your evil stronghold? Well, as they say in Mexico... No. We're not... gonna... let you.”

 

Angel narrowed his eyes. “She's psychotic, and I'm not turning her over...to you.”

 

Andrew shook his head. “You don't have a choice. Check the view screen, Uhura. I got twelve Vampyr Slayers behind me, and not one of them has ever dated you. She's coming with us one way or another.”

 

Angel's cold anger radiated through his entire bearing as he spoke. “You're way outta your league. I'll just clear this with Buffy.”

 

“Where do you think my orders came from? News flash—nobody in our camp trusts you anymore. Nobody. You work for Wolfram & Hart. Don't fool yourself... we're not on the same side. Thank you for your help... but, uh...we got it.” Andrew gestured to the Slayers, who moved forward to collect the gurney. And then he and the Slayers departed, leaving Angel, Wesley, and the guards standing there in silence. In the dark.

 

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Quickened

by P.H. Wise

A Buffy crossover fanfic

 

Chapter 13: Cassandra

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy. I don't own Angel. I don't own Highlander. I don't own Stargate. Please don't sue me. I'm only a poor starving writer. I have no money.

 

Note: This episode contains a crossover with Stargate SG-1, and contains spoilers for the Stargate SG-1 episode entitled `Heroes.'

Furthermore, this episode contains text taken from the Angel season five episode entitled, `Damage.'

 

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Several Months Ago...

 

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It was a quiet dinner in the Fraiser home, with just the two of them - mother and daughter - sitting side by side. Well, adoptive mother and daughter. But considering that Cassie's real mother was not only dead but also somewhere on the other side of the galaxy, this was about as close as it got. Still, despite the adoptive nature of their relationship, the familial love that they shared filled the house with warmth. The smell of grilled chicken and asparagus wafted through the dining room, and there, with plates and cups before them, sat Cassie and Janet Fraiser.

 

Cassie, now nearing her eighteenth birthday, had grown into a beautiful young woman. Her long light brown hair was tied back into a ponytail, and her clear blue eyes danced with laughter.

 

“So,” Janet began, “Did he ask you?”

 

“Ask me what?” Cassie asked, her tone radiating innocence.

 

“To prom, of course.”

 

Cassie smiled. “He might have.”

 

“And...?”

 

“And what?”

 

Janet rolled her eyes. “You're determined to make this difficult, aren't you? What did you say?”

 

Cassie's smile widened. “I... might have told him I'd think about it...”

 

Janet laughed. “You'd think that after two years of seeing the boy, you'd stop making him sweat.” She took a bite of her dinner, and then a sip of water.

 

Cassie raised her own glass to her mouth and took a sip. “Oh, but I...” Cassie blinked, sweat breaking out across her face.

 

Janet frowned. “Cassie?”

 

“I...” Cassie struggled to form the words. Her hand tightened around her cup. The cup shattered a few seconds later. Shards of glass cut deeply into her hand, but she didn't notice. A moment later, she collapsed, and the last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was a strong, female voice.

 

“Make your choice,” the voice told her. “Are you ready to be strong?”

 

------------------------

 

Cassie awoke several hours later in a bed in the SGC hospital. An IV drip was attached to her arm, and her head was throbbing. She'd dreamed of... very strange things. As she cracked open her eyes and tried to sit up, she thought she heard distant voice.

 

“She's awake,” the voice called. “Get Doctor Fraiser.”

 

Her vision swam for a few moments before her eyes were able to focus properly. There. Samantha Carter and Jack O'Neill stood over her bed, both of them smiling down at her.

 

“How ya feelin'?” Jack asked.

 

“Like I got run over by a truck,” she replied.

 

Jack nodded.

 

“This is getting to be a habit with you, Cassie,” Sam said, as she reached out and squeezed Cassie's hand.

 

Cassie laughed and squeezed back. “I'm all righ-” She was interrupted by Carter's sudden yelp of pain, and frantic twisting to get her hand out of Cassie's grip.

 

Sam stared at her hand in shock, as did Jack and Cassie. All Cassie had done was squeeze, and Carter's hand was visibly bruising.

 

Carter and O'Neill exchanged looks.

 

“Cassie, remember that little talk we had?” Jack asked.

 

“The one about collapsing and then waking up with superpowers?”

 

Jack nodded. “That's the one.”

 

“Not on Tuesdays?”

 

Jack nodded a second time. “Not on Tuesdays.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

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Several hours later, Carter, O'Neill, and General Hammond sat around the briefing room table as Doctor Fraiser gave her report on Cassie's condition. Dr. Jackson and Teal'c were both off world. Each of them had a folder before them containing various test results.

 

“I can't explain it, Sir,” Janet said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Her muscle density is significantly increased, but that's only part of it. The strength she's displayed is far in excess of what increased muscle density could account for.” Doctor Fraiser shook her head, “Her white blood cells are almost... supercharged, somehow, her cat-scan shows increased brain activity, much of it in areas of the brain that are usually dormant, and she has some kind of foreign element in her blood. It's not naquadah, but it may be similar.”

 

“This is not the first time something like this has happened,” General Hammond began. “Is it possible that Nirrti's experiment was successful after all? That she really is...” he paused, trying to recall the term that Teal'c had used, “A Hok'Taur?”

 

“At this point, I'm not willing to rule out anything. There's no trace of the retrovirus that caused her changes the last time, but it's possible that the changes it made to her DNA are responsible for her current situation. With the enhanced strength, the supercharged immune system... If I didn't know better, I'd say that she had become a host.”

 

Jack remained silent. This wasn't really his area of expertise.

 

Sam spoke up, then. “I haven't sensed the presence of a symbiote. But regardless of whether or not this is the result of Nirrti's experiment, we can't let this get out. Right now, Cassie is the ideal host. The Goa'uld would kill to get their hands on her.”

 

“Carter,” Jack began, “They're snakeheads. They'd kill for peanuts.”

 

Sam rolled her eyes, and Hammond made a valiant effort to appear unamused.

 

“Has there been any change in Cassie's behavior since this began?” Hammond asked.

 

Janet shook her head. “No, Sir. So far as I can tell, there have been no behavioral changes. She's Cassie.”

 

“With superpowers.” That was O'Neill, and as irreverent as ever.

 

If the situation had been less serious than it was, Janet would have laughed. “I'd like to keep her here under observation for a few days, Sir. But beyond that, if this doesn't just go away as her telekinetic abilities did last time...”

 

Carter's eyes lit up with understanding. “How is a normal girl going to handle suddenly being physically superior to pretty much every other human on the face of the earth?”

 

Hammond thought about the situation for a moment. “The sociological implications of Cassie's situation aside, if Nirrti really is responsible, she may make another attempt at capturing Miss Fraiser. I'm going to order the whole base swept with TER scans. Keep an eye out, people.”

 

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Months went by, and no Goa'uld came for the young Cassie Fraiser. Gradually, life returned to normal. Well, as normal as it got for an extra-terrestrial human refugee who'd been adopted by a woman who worked as a doctor for the Stargate project. For a while, it seemed as though Cassie was going to be perfectly fine - she was Cassie, but now with superpowers.

 

And then the dream came.

 

It was a dream of darkness, and of death. Of vampires, and of demons. Of Slayers and Watchers. And of Janet meeting her death on a faraway world.

 

Cassie tried to ignore the dream for several weeks, but every night it returned, and more horrifically than before. Eventually, she took action. She pleaded with her mother not to go off world anytime in the near future. Janet told her that she couldn't make any promises. Cassie then insisted that if Janet were going off world any time soon, she needed to come along as well. But Janet only smiled, and said nothing. And when the call finally came, Cassie was left behind.

 

And Janet Fraiser died.

 

---------------------------

 

The phone dropped from Cassie's nerveless hand, and for a long moment, she stood there in shock, saying nothing. Jack's voice rang faintly through the receiver. “Cassie?” he asked. “Cassie, are you there?”

 

But Cassie wasn't there. And she didn't cry. There was grief, yes. But there was also rage. And something else. Something... predatory. Her emotions boiled, surging until they were like a second skin. And then she was gone into the night. She wasn't aware of the route she took through the city. She didn't know where she was going, but only that she needed to hunt.

 

A blur of light and shadow. Sound and silence. A scream rang out in the night, and in an instant, Cassie was there.

 

A man - a vampire - drank from the neck of an unconscious woman. And even as she saw the creature, she knew what to do. She tore a chunk of wood out of a nearby bench. The need to destroy filled her, and she loosed it upon the unholy beast.

 

Dust in the wind.

 

That was when she saw them.

 

Other girls. Young women. Watching her.

 

The haze shattered like glass. Fully aware, Cassie Fraiser turned and ran as fast as she could go. The wind whipped around her as she ran, and her clothing tore in the friction her speed created.

 

She ran home. The door was open, and she closed it as she entered. “Mom?” she called, not remembering what had sparked her panicked flight into the darkness. And then the reality of her situation hit her. The terrible, horrific emptiness of the house washed over her, and the bottom of her heart fell out. Cassie fell to her knees there in the entryway.

 

She wept.

 

-----------------------

 

Back in Rome, Duncan packed, preparing to depart. Various items went into the suitcase, and then he discovered a picture of Tessa. His feelings stirred at that, only to sink a moment later. He held it for a long moment.

 

That was how Methos found him, staring at the picture of his long-dead lover.

 

“Going somewhere?” the oldest man asked.

 

Duncan buried the picture in his suitcase before nodding to the other Immortal.

 

“Why?”

 

Duncan turned towards Methos. “What do you mean?”

 

“It's a simple question, MacLeod.”

 

Duncan didn't say anything for a long moment. “... I'm still not sure why I came here in the first place. But all I've done since I arrived was watch, and wait. I'm tired of wasting time here. It's time to go back to living.”

 

Methos laughed.

 

“What?” MacLeod asked.

 

“The idea of an Immortal upset about “wasted time” struck me as funny. So why are you really leaving?”

 

Duncan shook his head, and glanced out the window of his apartment onto the Roman streets below. “I don't know,” he said at length. “There's something wrong here. It just feels... like I should be elsewhere.”

 

Methos nodded. “We all feel that.”

 

“What is it?”

 

Methos grinned. “That'd be your instinct for self preservation working overtime, Highlander.”

 

Duncan clearly didn't understand, so Methos spelled it out for him.

 

“You're sensing the stirrings of Eater of Souls, MacLeod. With the amount of power that thing is putting out, every immortal on the continent will be sensing it, and the older you are, the greater the sense of impending doom.”

 

Duncan frowned. “If you can sense it that strongly, why are you still here?”

 

Methos didn't reply.

 

-------------------------

 

A sudden knock echoed through the silent house. Someone was at the door, and yet Cassie couldn't bring herself to care. The knock repeated itself a few times, but Cassie, caught up in her sorrow (and still majorly wigging from her experience several nights previous), simply sat there, sunk into the leather reclining chair as far as she could sink. The knock came again, and again. Finally, Cassie rose to her feet and walked... no, more like stalked over to the door.

 

She opened it a crack and peered out into the harsh light of day.

 

The entirety of SG-1 stood on her doorstep.

 

“What do you want?”

 

Sam smiled sadly. “You didn't come to the service, Cas. We were worried.”

 

“Can we come in?” asked Jack.

 

Cassie hesitated, and then Teal'c spoke up.

 

“We have brought Star Wars and Pizza,” the Jaffa announced, holding up the entire Star Wars Trilogy and a pizza box as evidence.

 

Cassie looked at the four of them for a long moment... and then laughed, albeit heavy heartedly, and opened the door.

 

-------------------

 

“Sister!” said Lord Vader, his surprise warring with vicious delight, “So...you have a twin sister. Your feelings have now betrayed her, too. Obi-Wan was wise to hide her from me. Now his failure is complete. If you will not turn to the dark side, then perhaps she will.”

 

Hours had passed, and SG-1 was now well into Return of the Jedi. The pizza box was empty, lying discarded upon a table, and Cassie had finally fallen asleep, her head on Sam's shoulder.

 

“How's she doin', Carter?” Jack asked.

 

Sam looked down at the young woman's sleeping form and smiled. “She's dreaming.”

 

Jack nodded. “Good.”

 

Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. “I'm just relieved that she's able to sleep at all. Losing a loved one...” he trailed off, unable to complete that sentence.

 

“Indeed,” said Teal'c.

 

A few minutes passed in silence as the rest of the movie went by. The quiet was short-lived. As the credits began to roll, Cassie jolted into wakefulness, her eyes full of panic.

 

“They're coming!” she cried, pushing away from Sam. “Don't let them take me away!”

 

Sam attempted to gather the panicked young woman into a hug, but failed to take the girl's Slayer strength into account. Sam was knocked to the floor, and Cassie backed into the corner of the room. Undeterred, Sam followed her and hugged her.

 

“Nobody is going to take you away, Cas,” she said, looking straight into the young Slayer's eyes.

 

The doorbell rang.

 

Cassie flinched at the noise. “They're here,” she whispered, horrified.

 

Sam, Jack, Teal'c and Daniel exchanged glances, and then looked towards the door.

 

-----------------

 

Methos sat alone in Duncan's apartment. Duncan had stepped out for some last minute errands in preparation of leaving town. The lights were out, and the oldest immortal was nursing a beer.

 

Not for the first time, Methos wondered why he himself had not yet skipped town. Every time he thought about it, there were always a hundred reasons to stay. There was work to be done with the new Watcher's council. MacLeod was here. Dawson was here.

 

But MacLeod was leaving, and as his Watcher, Dawson would probably go with him. So why, even now, did he have trouble with the idea of packing up and leaving?

 

Abruptly, the cobwebs fell away from his mind, and the truth of his situation hit him like a hammer. And yet even as he reached the conclusion, his mind shied away from it. He forced himself to ignore the feeling of being on the wrong track, and the compulsion spell shattered.

 

“Oh hell,” he muttered, his eyes widening. “They've found me.” He rose to his feet, turned, and ran for the window. At that moment, the front door exploded into the room in a shower of splinters.

 

Methos hadn't moved quickly enough. A well-dressed man moving at inhuman speeds rushed into the room, seized the oldest immortal by the ankle, and tossed him into the wall. HARD.

 

Methos coughed up blood. “... I was wondering...” he murmured, “How long it would take you to find me...”

 

The well-dressed man adjusted his tie before approaching the fallen Immortal. “And if you'd broken through the compulsion even a few seconds earlier, you'd have escaped. You're slipping, Death.”

 

Methos laughed bitterly, and the man picked him up and punched him in the stomach. He staggered.

 

“You knew this was coming sooner or later, Death. As one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, you are under certain contractual obligations, sudden attacks of conscience notwithstanding. Failure to meet those obligations...” the well-dressed man smiled. “Let's just say we have a place prepared for you. Somewhere you'll have time to think. Clear your head. Until you come around to our way of thinking.”

 

Methos struggled to rise. To speak. To do ANYTHING. The well-dressed man laughed, and then simply seized him by the hair and slammed him headfirst into the wall.

 

His vision went black.

 

--------------------

 

There was a very uncertain looking young man at the door. The moment he opened his mouth, Jack was struck by the sheer unbelievable nerdiness that was Andrew.

 

“Um, is Cassie Fraiser here?” the young man asked.

 

“Who's asking?”

 

“Andrew?”

 

Jack looked at the young man very closely, and then turned towards Cassie. “You know anyone named Andrew?” he asked.

 

Cassie seemed to calm down considerably, and peered towards the door, but she said nothing.

 

Jack shrugged, turning back towards Andrew. “Sorry. Looks like she's not interested in talking to you.”

 

“Wait!” Andrew cried, trying to push his way into the house. Jack stopped his attempt with little effort.

 

“What do you want, kid?”

 

“To entertain and to educate,” Andrew said, his voice full of false importance.

 

SG-1 exchanged disbelieving glances. Still, he seemed harmless enough. They allowed him entrance.

 

“So what do you want with Cassie, kid?” Jack asked as they all sat down in the living room.

 

“What I have to say is for Miss Fraiser's ears alone.”

 

Cassie glanced at Sam, and then to Andrew. “Whatever you're going to say to me, you can say in front of my friends,” she said.

 

Andrew nodded. “As you wish,” he said. He then smiled in what he no doubt thought was a mysterious fashion. “Gather around and attend to a most unusual tale... a tale I like to call... The Slayer of the Vampyrs.” He rested his chin on his hands, paused for thought, and then cleared his throat.

 

Once again, SG-1 exchanged disbelieving glances.

 

“Eons ago, on the dark continent, 3 wise elders decided to fight evil with a taste of its own sinistro. They took a young girl, and they imbued her with the power of a demon. Thusly, the first Slayer of the Vampyrs was born. But alas, the existence of a slayer is often brutal and short-lived. And the `primitive,' as she was called, boasted no exception. But... the elders had foreseen this inevitability and... and devised a way for her power to live on.”

 

Andrew paused a moment to allow his gripping tale to sink in.

 

“... Do you actually expect us to...” Jack began. But Andrew went on without listening to what he had to say.

 

“In every generation, one is chosen. There are many potentials, as we experts call them. Hundreds... maybe thousands per generation. Each of them experiencing vivid dreams... some say nightmares... of the heroics of past slayers. But only one can be chosen.”

 

Cassie actually seemed interested at this point, but apart from Daniel Jackson, who thought all of this was a fascinating study in dementia, she was the only one.

 

“So you're saying that Cassie was chosen to fight these `forces of darkness?” Daniel asked.

 

“Indeed yes, my good man,” said Andrew. “Six months ago, Buffy, Vampyr Slayer extraordinaire, had her lesbian witch make with the beaucoup de magie. One light show later... all the potentials become slayers. Thus, Miss Fraiser's little... enhancement.”

 

He looked directly at Cassie. “You've been experiencing the dreams, haven't you? Let the Force guide you on your path, young one. We can train you, and make sure you get a good education. That's what we do. Are you interested?”

 

Teal'c raised an eyebrow, and the others were beyond incredulity at this point.

 

“OK, I think that's enough,” said Jack. “Time for you to go.” He seized Andrew by the scruff of his neck and began to drag him towards the door.

 

And that was when a young woman stepped into the house. Jack barely had time to react before she had grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully around behind his back.

 

“What the he...OW!” Jack exclaimed.

 

Andrew dusted himself off, trying to look dignified. “It's, um, all right, Vi. You can let him go.”

 

The young woman released O'Neill's arm and stepped away. Jack rubbed his arm and stared at her suspiciously.

 

Andrew looked to Cassie. “So, um, Miss Fraiser, are you interested? Will you come with me to Rome, and learn the ways of the Force?”

 

Cassie was probably the only one who took him seriously. But she didn't respond the way he wanted. “No.” she said.

 

Andrew blinked in surprise. “What?”

 

“You heard me,” said Cassie, very seriously, a far cry from the frightened young woman she had been just before Andrew's arrival. “This is where I belong. I saw it in the dreams.”

 

Andrew wasn't sure what to say to that. He directed a helpless glance towards Vi, who shrugged at him.

 

“OK,” he said at length, and turned to go.

 

“Wait,” Cassie called.

 

Andrew waited.

 

“There's something you need to see.”

 

Cassie reached out and placed her hand on the side of Andrew's face.

 

*FLASH*

 

Rome lay in ruins. The Vatican City had been reduced to rubble. The very messy remains of MILLIONS of human beings lay scattered throughout the rubble in great piles, and the stench of carrion befouled the air.

 

In the center of the destruction, Buffy stood over a headless corpse. She held the Scythe in her hands, and her eyes were completely black. Willow black.

 

Nearby, Dawn lay dead.

 

*FLASH*

 

Andrew's eyes went wide in shock. “... Slayer mind-meld?” he asked, his voice faint as he stared at Cassie.

 

Cassie looked him straight in the eyes. “Don't let it happen like that. Find another way.”

 

Andrew nodded, his nerdish enthusiasm curbed by this sobering new information. He looked to Vi. “Time to go,” he said. She nodded, and together, they departed.

 

As the door shut behind them, Jack glanced at Cassie, and for a long moment, there was silence.

"Well," he said at length, "You handled that well. Feeling any better?"

Cassie smiled faintly. She had a rough couple of months ahead of her, but with friends like these, she might just be able to make it through.

 

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Duncan knew something was wrong when he reached the door to his apartment. It had been destroyed. Completely. Fragments of wood were spilled everywhere, and there were splinters on everything. If it weren't for the lack of damage to the wall around the door, he'd say it had been opened with explosives.

 

He drew his sword and stepped into the room.

 

His heart sank.

 

There was blood on the floor, and around a large hole in the wall. Ample signs of a struggle. Not enough blood to be a beheading, though. A half-finished beer lay on the table, and Methos was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Adam?” he called, on the off chance the man was still in hearing distance.

 

No response.

 

With a terrible sinking feeling, Duncan picked up the phone and dialed.

Joe would need to know about this.

 

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Another time, another place...

 

Methos sat with his son at the counter in the bright kitchen, every fiber of his being radiating domestic bliss. His wife made her rounds, tidying up the kitchen after their breakfast meal. A textbook lay open before the happy father and son.

 

“Come on,” said Methos, “You know this one.”

 

“Um...” his son thought about it for a moment. “The outer core.”

Methos smiled, and he felt his heart expanding within him with pride in his son's learning. “And under that?”

 

“The inner core.”

“Under that?”

 

His son, Zach, looked confused. “Under that... nothing.”

 

“Just the soft, chewy center.”

 

Zach rolled his eyes. “Ha ha.”

 

Methos laughed.

 

“Hey, hon?” his wife began, “Oven light just went out. I need a bulb from the cellar.”

 

Methos looked away. “There should be some in the hall closet.” The basement door stood out in stark relief against the rest of the house, although this difference was born of fear, and not of looks.

 

“Just regular ones,” his wife replied, “Little ones are downstairs.”

 

Fear flashed in Methos' eyes, and he looked at his son. “Zach's about to tell me about the lithosphere,” he said, hoping to placate his wife.

 

His wife walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “I kinda need it now,” she insisted.

 

Methos hesitated, casting a fearful glance towards the basement door.

 

They can only undo you as much as you think you deserve to be undone, it's said. And in Methos' basement, there were tortures far worse than torn out hearts and mutilated limbs.

 

END CHAPTER 13

 

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Author's notes:
I know, I know. Bringing in a Stargate crossover for all of one episode may seem strange, but I just could not resist the implications.