BTVS Fan Fiction: Part 2
Frau Hunter Ash
Rating: R
# # #
Giles was surprised to find Tara on his doorstep later. The witch blushed and looked down at her feet.
“Uh, hi, Giles,” she said softly. “Is… is Willow here?”
“Of course, you know you’re welcome here. You’ve been here four times this week already. I’ll call her down, she’s packing for her trip to LA tomorrow I know she wants to see you.”
“T-that’s okay, I’ll go on up,” Tara suggested with a shy smile.
“Alright, I’ll be down here on the computer,” Giles nodded.
The Watcher tried to settle into his continual research but couldn’t seem to concentrate, his thoughts on the dark-skinned beauty across the ocean. He was pleased for Willow that the two women seemed to be working towards reconciliation; on the other hand, that meant he would lose again at having at least a roommate and he had grown comfortable having Willow around. Giles sighed, realizing that he didn’t quite welcome the loneliness that was once his life. He wanted to reach for the phone and call England but he knew that was a dead-end.
Giles tried to ignore the sounds from Willow’s bedroom when he finally gave and went to bed, smiling that the reconciliation seemed to have worked out for the two witches. The Watcher didn’t sleep well, even with the radio on low.
# # #
Three days later Giles felt like he wanted to soak in a hot shower and scrub his skin off after talking with the four men accused of the horrendous murders. At the very least, if the men were possessed and not responsible, they were still pathetic and perfect victims and vessels for a sex demon.
If they had been aware of what they were doing then they were brutal killers of young women and girls.
Sam Rothstein had once been an accountant but he had cultivated the look of a successful single stock trader or something similar. Good looks, great smile, a gym toned body and he was a regular at the singles bars and usually didn’t go home alone. That didn’t mean the young women stayed past breakfast and they usually didn’t have a return visit.
Now Sam’s eyes and cheeks were sunken, his skin pale and drawn and his bones almost showed through from obvious rapid weight loss.
Giles had been uncomfortable sitting at a wooden table across from a man accused of the brutal rape and death of a young fourteen-year-old high school student. Sam was in an orange jail jumpsuit with a chain around his waist, his hands cuffed to that chain and another leaded to the leg shackles.
He seemed confused by everything, including the handcuffs.
“Who are you?” he asked softly.
“My name is Rupert Giles, I’m aiding the police in possibly finding common patterns in these crimes and predictors, I’m a trained anthropologist,” Giles said, easily falling into the cover story Willow and he had worked out and hacked into computer systems to set up.
“A profiler?” Sam asked, frowning at the chain that prevented him from scratching his fuzzy beard.
“Something like that,” Giles agreed. “The police report says that you don’t remember attacking the girl, is that true? Off the record, nothing you say will be used against you. This is research and to prevent future crimes.”
Sam surprised Giles by beginning to cry. Unable to wipe at his eyes, the accused laid his head on the table as Giles blinked.
“I didn’t do it! I swear I didn’t! I’m not capable of something like that!” Sam whimpered, banging his head. “I don’t even like kids!”
Giles shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“What do you remember, Mr. Rothstein?” Giles asked after a few moments.
“Not a lot, I thought maybe I was coming down with the flu or something,” Sam sniffled, his brown eyes begging for understanding. “I wasn’t even cruising the bars the last couple of weeks, I felt so crappy!”
“Tell me about the last three weeks, before you felt terrible and what you remember,” Giles urged.
“Well,” Sam hesitated, a smile actually touching his face. “Some of it was kinda nice. I mean, it was Wow. The dreams were killer!”
Rothstein blinked, realizing what he had said. “I, uh, three weeks, okay.”
Giles had questioned the others closely about their lives and found that Sam was fairly typical: they considered sex the prize and love was a foreign concept.
Rothstein hadn’t achieved a relationship that had lasted longer than a week and believed that was the way life was meant to be.
Timothy Carter, Henry Santos, and Patrick DiLuciano almost mirrored Sam’s life stories. The only variance was their jobs. Not even the looks varied much. At the time they met the mysterious woman, the best they had been hoping for was frequent sex with no attachments.
The stories began to vary at the description of the woman in question. Each man seemed to have hooked up with a different woman. Giles knew if it was a demon, especially a succubus, it probably had the ability to shape change into exactly what each victim was looking for.
Sam sighed, he was beginning to relax as he got into his story and Giles hadn’t pressured him about the details of the attack. The accountant smiled as his eyes grew distant.
“I was at the bar, the Captain’s Lounge,” he continued. “Hit that every Friday night and I do pretty well there. I spotted this beautiful woman I’d never seen before. I mean she was a knock-out! She had the most amazing… uh, shape and these green eyes that just begged you to fuck… uh, go out with her.”
“What color hair did she have?” Giles asked, taking notes, trying not to blush.
“Blonde, like a beach goddess,” Sam said wistfully. “Great figure. I mean her boobs were… built.”
“Height?” Giles prompted.
“Huh? Oh yeah, 5’7”, three inches shorter than me, perfect,” Sam added. “Walked up and asked for a dance. Said her name was Simone, I mean what a name for that body! She was perfect! Dancing, conversation, and listened instead of yakking and didn’t want expensive drinks, you know?”
“She went home with you,” Giles nodded. “Your idea or hers?”
Sam looked puzzled. “I don’t remember, just kinda happened, you know? She was all over me in the car and…”
“Go on,” Giles said softly.
“Gave me the best blow job I’ve ever had in my life!” Sam blushed. “Almost ended up off the end of a dock! I live… lived in a converted loft down in the wharf area. It didn’t end until about dawn the next morning. I’ve never… never gone that long without some coke to keep me going.”
“You didn’t need a boost that night?” Giles prompted.
“No,” Sam sighed, obviously remembering. “I don’t remember how many times or even where in the loft we did it. I was so exhausted the next morning, I didn’t even fix her breakfast. I begged her for her number, for her to stay or come back that night. She laughed, patted my cheek and left. I never saw her again.”
“That’s when you started to feel bad, yes?”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “I stayed in bed most of the day. Didn’t feel crappy then, just a real nice tired, you know? That night I watched a Pay per View movie and ordered pizza. I didn’t feel like going out, not after Simone.”
“Did the dreams start that night?” Giles asked softly and Sam almost started out of his seat.
“H-how did you know about the dreams?”
“You said earlier the dreams were, uh, ‘killer’,” Giles reminded the subject, referring to his notes.
Sam blushed and grinned shyly. “Yeah, they started the next night and I got them every night until I was arrested. Simone, me, and wild sex. Stuff I never thought of before and, let me tell you, I’ve seen plenty of Pay movies to give me ideas! She was fantastic in real life and the dreams didn’t disappoint either!”
Giles wasn’t surprised, it was typical behavior for a succubus. Draining of the victim through erotic dreams. He was puzzled about the deaths of the young women, however.
“You got worse and worse?” Giles prompted.
“Yeah, like a really bad flu,” Sam shrugged. “I started missing work, especially the last week. I just couldn’t get up in the mornings. Started losing weight and looking like shit. Didn’t even go out those weekends.”
“What about the last two days?”
Sam looked down at his hands. “I don’t remember much. Just waking up somewhere near noon and then going back to bed. Then I woke up in the hospital, handcuffed to the bed and everyone all over my case! Someone was telling me I was exhausted, malnourished, anemic and dehydrated. Some other jerk was yelling at me that I had killed a little girl was under arrest.”
“The reports say that you were found in the park next to the body of a young teenager,” Giles said, consulting his notes. “You were unconscious with your trousers around your ankles, shirt ripped open and the girls’ clothes ripped off her.”
Sam looked away. “Yeah, scratches across my cheek and down my chest and back. Arms and chest covered in bruises and a black eye. My lawyer says my DNA was under her nails and… and other places.”
“No memory of finding the girl and attacking her?” Giles asked gently.
Sam shook his head, beginning to cry again. “None. They said she was young.”
“Fourteen,” Giles sighed. “She was on her way home from the library. She checked out some books at 7:30pm and wasn’t seen again until you both were found the next morning.”
“I don’t like girls like that,” Sam muttered. “I like women.”
“Thank you, Mr. Rothstein, for your cooperation,” Giles said calmly.
“Can you help me?” Sam asked, his eyes hopeful and Giles found himself feeling sorry for the young man.
“I probably can’t, I’m sorry,” Giles admitted. “Perhaps I can prevent this happening to another young man and young girl.”
“But I’m screwed,” Sam said bitterly. “I mean, I’m toast.”
“You might consider a polygraph test and hypnosis to prove that you have no memory,” Giles suggested. “Perhaps you could have a reduced sentence and get some help.”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded, sinking back in his seat. “I’m toast. I go to prison as a rapist murderer. Could you do something for me? My landlady said she’d feed my cat but she won’t do that much longer. Could you find Sheba a home?”
Giles hesitated and then nodded. “I’ll drop by and find her a good home. Is there any family you’d like me to get a message to?”
“Nah, only my mother but she won’t talk to me since this happened. I’m all alone,” Sam said dejectedly.
“Good luck, Mr. Rothstein,” Giles said simply as he rose for the guard to let him out.
The Watcher made his way to the bathroom and ran cold water over his face.
Giles and Sheba arrived at the apartment a short time later.
# # #
The difference among the stories of the other men were the descriptions of the woman. For one it was a short, well endowed blonde with green eyes; for another she had been Asian and very exotic; and the third “woman” had been described as tall, dark, and Betty Paige like. The dream woman of each man that had ended up in a jail cell.
In common link was the same singles bar, the Captain’s Lounge.
Giles called Xander and the rest of the gang, absently wondering how Willow was doing on research and if… he shut down any other thoughts about his own loneliness and dark eyes and a gentle touch.
# # #
After four nights spent in a singles bar watching Xander watch every woman Giles was tired. The young man hadn’t done too badly for pretending to be a single young man on the prowl for female companionship but none of the women followed through as the Succubus had with previous victims and a quick check of names and phones numbers through Willow’s hacking skills in Los Angeles and it was determined the women were human.
Giles had called off the attempt at drawing out the demon and Anya had sighed in relief and so had Xander. The Watcher had no idea what home life had been like for the construction worker but he knew Anya’s jealous streak. Xander receiving phone numbers and offers of sex from several women had made Anya almost livid, despite the fact he was doing it to draw out a demon and not to cheat on her. Giles had a feeling Xander would be making up to his fiancée over it for awhile.
Giles decided to switch tactics and watch the customers at the bar, hoping to spot the demon, follow the right couple and battle the creature. Also on the agenda was not getting arrested for stalking or being a Peeping Tom.
He was missing Willow very much. Just having her in the apartment had made a difference in his life, one that he really hadn’t been aware of before she landed on his doorstep. Giles was a Watcher and he was supposed to be alone but had already discovered he no longer liked it but it felt like that was his destiny.
“Hello, hunter,” a sultry whiskey voice interrupted his thoughts.
Giles looked up, surprised at the voice and the use of the term. One look at the dark eyes, the dusky skin and gorgeous face and body, Giles knew he was facing the demon.
“I, uh, hello,” Giles stammered. “Uh, hunter?”
The exotic beauty sat down with a smile. “Let’s not play, I know what you are and you know what I am. We’re both hunters only you’re hunting me. Why?”
“Four men accused of rape and murder, four innocent girls brutally killed,” Giles snapped, getting his mental feet back under him.
“Ah, a do-gooder,” the demon smiled. “At least you’re not a bounty hunter. Well, hunter, how shall we play this?”
“Well, typically we’d take it outside and I’d attempt to bash your head in with an iron bar,” Giles shrugged. “Your suggestion?”
“We become friends and I stop choosing the idiots around here,” the demon suggested. “Call me Rowan.”
Giles felt a coldness grip his insides but his expression remained the same.
“Whatever you wish to be called,” he said calmly. “Why should we become friends? You kill innocent humans.”
“I also bring incredible joy to the undeserving,” Rowan shrugged. “We can make a deal, hunter. You and I have a relationship and I leave all these other worms alone.”
“And what’s in it for me? Dying happy?” he asked sarcastically.
“You keep the others safe, including the young virgins,” Rowan grinned. “You see, if you come willingly and don’t fight me, I don’t steal your memories, possess your body or kill anyone. After a week, we decide if you go to sleep and don’t wake up, dying happy. Or I let you go, you recover eventually and return to your empty life.”
“Why possess the men and kill the girls?” Giles asked, wondering how much she knew about him.
“The life force of a virgin through sexual death is like the ultimate dessert,” Rowan smiled but there was no warmth in it or her eyes. “A willing partner is just as sweet. As for those losers I choose… they have no lives to feel sorry over losing.”
“And me?” Giles asked softly.
“You’re almost as pathetic as them but not quite,” Rowan smiled. “You’ve had purpose in your life and are usually honest and honorable. It’s in the romance department that you fall short. Such tragedies! Death, unrequited love and now losing again!”
“Why should I give in? My goal is to stop demons like you,” Giles demanded.
“Because if you don’t give in willingly, I kill you and keep on choosing losers in this town until I get bored,” Rowan smiled.
“I might not be so easy to kill,” Giles smiled back, his expression calm but his eyes shining brightly with anger.
Rowan smiled gently and leaned over the table and kissed the Watcher’s cheek gently.
“I hope not, I love a challenge,” she whispered and stood up with a laugh. “Be seeing you.”
Giles shivered, hearing Ethan’s parting line coming from the demon and realizing she could read his mind and his memories.
He considered trying to follow ‘Rowan’ but shook his head. She could change appearance easily and he didn’t have his Slayer’s instincts, only his experiences and magic, both he was reluctant to use chasing a sex demon.
The Watcher finished his drink and headed home. He’d call Tara, Xander, Anya and Buffy and have them meet him at the bar the next night. Perhaps even Spike might be able to help.
There was a message on his answering machine from Willow that she had found out some information that might help and, unless she was needed, she was staying a little longer in Los Angeles to help Angel with a problem.
The next message was from Olivia, surprising the Englishman. Olivia said she wanted to talk to him. Giles looked at the machine for a few moments and erased the messages as Sheba rubbed up against his legs. The demon had been right, he had already lost out on romance.
He was cautious enough to do a protection ritual around his apartment, however, especially his bedroom.
tbc..