[A/N: Something I haven’t mentioned until now, and no one’s gotten the connections, or if they have no one’s mentioned them to me. The Initiative officers names. Unless you’ve lived under a rock and were never a kid – no one should miss the connection to the Goonies, although one could be forgiven for not ever seeing a Marc Blucas movie. I know I never have. On a more somber note, the other names have been lifted directly from some rather infamous Nazis. The connection there shouldn’t be hard for anyone to follow, since the Initiative was a direct descendent of some of the more dubious Nazi practices (and hey, it’s also canon). Anyway, I’m slowly getting this toward a finish. There’s a Connor-sentric one-shot posted at Elysian Fields and a couple of Buffy-Spike one shots on all the archives. There’s a Faith/Jenner one-shot posted on my LJ (tangwstyl) that sort of meshes in with Destinies, which is also exclusively posted at Elysian Fields. There have been a few requests to write other stories set in the Originsverse, mainly the Dawn/Wesley arc and also another couple of fics. . . All I can say is, I’ll see. I can’t promise anything. Although it looks like there might actually be seven stories in this ‘verse. So Addie Logan was right all along. Damn. I hate it when that happens. Title and quotes are as attributed and I own nothing but the plot. Nothing. Coz I don’t even have my own car right now, either.]

Previously: Initiative is attacking, trying to kidnap the babies; Travers is worried; Xander’s wondering why he’s back in Sunnydale; the witches are working, using Willow as a conduit; and . . . well, this picks up immediately following the last update. Like the last chapter, this one also skips around time-line wise.

Book Three

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The thundering line of battle


The noise of battle hurtled in the air,
Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan,
And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets.
Julius Caesar, Act II, sc. ii

Robin once said the whole world's a battle field, not just Sherwood.
A neverending war between the powers of good and evil.
Little John, Robin of Sherwood (1984), The Enchantment

The thundering line of battle stands,
And in the air Death moans and sings:
But Day shall clasp him with strong hands,
And Night shall fold him in soft wings.
Julian Grenfell, Into Battle

The creepy thing about battle is you always feel alone.
Zab (Robert Carradine), The Big Red One, Samuel Fuller, screenwriter.

From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,
The hum of either army stilly sounds,
That the fixed sentinels almost receive
The secret whispers of each other’s watch.
Fire answers fire, and through their play flames
Each battle sees the other’s umbered face.
Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs
Piercing the night’s dull ear; and from the tents
The armorers accomplishing the knights,
With busy hammers closing rivets up,
Give dreadful note of preparation.
King Henry V (IV, Prologue)




The roar rattled all the knick-knacks, shaking the walls and windows. Buffy sighed, knowing exactly why Spike had lost his temper. She could feel the frustration flooding his muscles, the barely suppressed rage rolling through him.

Slowly she walked toward the closed bedroom door, waving off Anya’s protests, and very conscious of her body’s reluctance to move. Every part of her ached, and she wanted nothing more than to return to bed and sleep off the pain. But she couldn’t. No more than Spike could go out and fight the soldiers on his own.

What she could do, though, was talk him down from his all-consuming rage. The Council had agreed and so far, there was no reason not to trust their assurances. They’d promised they would remove the chip. Maybe if he stays here with us, he’ll feel better?

Buffy had barely opened the door when another growl rattled the walls. “Spike?”

He whirled around to face her and she wasn’t at all surprised to find him in gameface. “Go back inside.”

Gingerly she waddled toward him, the whole while leaning heavily against the wall. “Spike, stay with me?”

It was all so eerily quiet in the hallway, except for his harsh breathing. There were no sounds of fighting, no one other than the two of them. Buffy stretched out her hand, silently entreating him to take it, to stay with her.

Spike shook off his gameface, his bright blue eyes glistening with a bevy of emotions. His eyes swept her form, coming to rest on her hand. The band he’d given her at Christmas glittered under the lights, further proof, if they needed it, of how bonded they were.

Buffy breathed a quiet sigh of relief when his hand grasped hers.

Spike caught her in his arms, holding her against him tightly. He could feel her wobbling, feel the drain on her strength. Knowing he’d unwittingly added to her stress had him berating himself.

“Oh, kitten.” He lifted her up easily, noting with some regret the tears in her eyes. “You should be in bed resting.”

“I can’t. You – the babies, I have to be ready.”

“No. You don’t. ‘ll stay here with you. Won’t go anywhere.” Spike shouldered through the partially opened bedroom door, idly noting Anya’s position between the window and the crib.

Angling her head to watch them, Anya remarked almost idly, “Lawson and the others are here and it looks like they’ve started to pick off the soldiers.”

“Good. ‘S what they’re supposed to be doing.” Spike laid Buffy down on the bed, pulling up a light blanket to cover her. “Seen Jenner yet?”

“No, but I guess he’s running the show.” Anya turned back to watch what was going on outside. “Spike?”

The sudden urgency in her whispered voice galvanized him into action. He was at her side in seconds. “What?”

Anya pointed at the eerie greenish mist clinging to the exterior walls. “Look at that.”

“What’s that?” As they were talking, the mist began seeping outward, covering the lawn. “What the – ?”

“The witches said they were going to help.” Anya stated bluntly. “I didn’t think they would use Dawn.”

“Hell.” It was clear Spike wasn’t happy with this information, but there was little he could do at this stage. He slumped slightly, reality once more rearing its ugly head.

Anya patted his arm. “Don’t worry. Once the chip is gone you can squash Riley like a bug.”

Spike stared at her, noting her bright smile and twinkling eyes. Unable to stop his own grin, he quipped, “Oh, pet, you say the sweetest things.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



There was no end to the amount of energy she could call forth. It was boundless, bottomless, and infinite. Kait closed her eyes, reveling in the power flowing through her and into Willow.

Kait felt her own heartbeat flutter and a low ringing in her ears. She felt bigger than her own skin, her head swelling making her body feel smaller and smaller, until she was nothing more than just her cranium. She had a momentary feeling of vertigo, though she hadn’t moved at all. Lurching forward, Kait straightened, then stepped past Dawn’s still form. She refused to look back, knowing her own body was exactly where she’d left it, standing in front of the teenager, hands still clasping Dawn’s.

Her insubstantial spirit glided past Grace, idly noting her counterpart’s rigid form. Methodically, she moved through the rooms of the first floor, the green witchlight of Dawn’s energy following her.

Both Giles and Wesley marked her passage, though the other – Xander? – didn’t notice anything other than the light. Kait paused at the bottom of the steps, sending a prayer to Brigid, the Morrigan, Epona, and all the other Celtic Gods to protect Buffy, Spike, and most especially their newborns.

As a tendril of light crept upwards, Kait felt a sense of peace and rightness flood her and she turned away. Passing through the kitchen, she eyed the two Slayers. While the older waited patiently, the younger one paced, complaining about everything. Trouble would come from that one – or for that one. . .

Kait drifted toward the door, knowing she had to go outside in order to fully ward the house. Her footsteps would mark the territory, warding the area inside.

Though she hoped her efforts would lead to an avoidance of bloodshed, Kait knew the Initiative didn’t care who or what stood in their way. Once the soldiers had sight of a goal, they were single-minded, pursing the target until they’d gotten it.

That deadly ambition had caught Grace’s partner and their middle child. Neither had survived their captivity.

Kait’s spectral form moved off the back porch onto the grass. The vampires and Brachens shied away, easily able to see her moving through the darkness. The soldiers, as she expected did not. Electronic equipment whined and squealed at her passage, the energy disrupting their effectiveness.

A small smile bloomed on her still form.

Take that, you bastards.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Poised at the edge of the roof, Connor watched while the vampires began picking off the soldiers one at a time. He practically vibrated with tension, and though Oz knew he wanted to jump into the fray, Connor managed to avoid the temptation.

It was a good thing he had, because in the next instant, Oz heard a noise that chilled his bones. The distinctive whooping of a helicopter reached his sensitive ears and Oz had enough time to grab Connor’s arm. “Heads up.”

“What?”

Pointing to his right, the werewolf barely suppressed a growl. “Chopper.”

“Oh shit.” The teen laid out flat, pulling Oz down with him. “Soldiers?”

“Probably.” The two scanned the sky, waiting for the aerial assault.

“We’re gonna have to take them out up here.”

Oz thought hard for a moment, then rolled over onto his back. Reaching for his boots, Oz quickly began untying them. Connor observed him for a moment, then followed suit. Both dropped the footwear into the bushes below.

“Do you think we have time to get more weapons?” Connor’s query was barely audible over the growing noise, though Oz heard him clearly.

“No.”

“Shit.” Connor shook his head, repeating himself. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

The first commando dropped onto the roof, landing lightly on his feet. He was followed in rapid succession by five more of his brethren, all of them heavily armed.

“Shit.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Xander glanced at the two Englishmen, wondering what had happened to the scholarly, bookish nerds they’d once been. At this moment, armed and battle-ready, neither of them resembled their former personas. Gone were the tweedy exteriors, replaced with almost James Bond-like expressions.

I’m needed? Who the hell was Cordy kidding? These two don’t need my help at all.

He was about to say so, when Giles held up a hand, needlessly motioning the other two to silence. “Do you hear that?”

“What?”

“Don’t hear anything.”

The two younger men shrugged, putting Giles’ actions down to nerves. Xander rechecked his crossbow, noticing for the first time the pale green light drifting mistily through the house. “Giles? What the heck is that?”

The older Englishman had been following the light since Kait’s spectral progress earlier and he replied nonchalantly, “That is the manifestation of the protection spell.”

“Oh. Cool.” Xander watched it swirl and darken, curling around his legs almost sentiently. “It’s pretty neat.”

“Giles.” Wesley looked away from the window. “Listen.”

Now the sound was unmistakable.

“Bloody hell.” Giles grabbed some bolts, urging the other two to the stairs. “Faith!”

Her voice sounded from the hallway. “On it!”

The sound of numerous feet racing up the stairs broke Xander’s immobility.

“This isn’t good.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



They weren’t close enough to hear the tell-tale thumping of the helicopter blades, but there was no mistaking the flying lights or the silhouette against the lighter night sky.

As it was, had he not been nearly glued to the window since their arrival, Quentin Travers would’ve missed it. “Oh, no! Nicholson!”

For the second time in as many hours, his subordinate came running. “Sir?”

“Is that a United States Military helicopter?”

Nicholson glanced out the window and froze. “I believe that is indeed a Black Hawk.”

“Damnation! They’ve had forces in reserve this whole time!” Travers hung his head for a moment, thinking hard. “We cannot afford to sit here. Gather whatever weapons you can scavenge.”

Completely flustered, Nicholson gaped at the Council head.

“Mr. Nicholson, time is of the essence.”

“Right.” Nicholson shook his head, clearing away his confusion. “Weapons. We don’t have many.”

“No time to worry about that.” Travers swept past him. “I’m fairly certain there will be sufficient weapons at the Summers residence.”

“I’d imagine so, sir.”

Travers shot him a look that had Nicholson scrambling to follow.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Riley heard the familiar whomping of the chopper blades and called his men to regroup. “Back up has just arrived.”

There was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been notable before. Now it was pronounced.

“Sir?” Lansome glanced at his commander, only to find him staring upward, eyes trained on the night sky.

“Didn’t trust the situation. Hostile Seventeen appeared too confident. So I called in reserves.” Finn’s smile wasn’t pleasant. “This was just a diversion.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Jenner heard the helicopter blades beating through the sky with a sense of dread. His previous orders to disarm and disable might actually backfire.

He wasn’t about to allow the Initiative access to the Summers’ residence. For one thing, Buffy would never forgive any of them if something happened, especially not herself. Jenner respected her too much to stand back; he’d already thrown in his lot with theirs. No time to back out now.

Whistling to get the attention of his men, Jenner contemplated the quickest route to the roof. Paulie and two others followed by a handful of Brackens appeared at his elbow. Taking in their eager, worried faces, Jenner gave his orders.

“Up on the roof. Do not let anyone in the windows that you don’t recognize.”

The Brackens began climbing the trees and Jenner sprung upwards, jumping the twenty feet easily onto the front porch roof. His vampires followed his example, quickly positioning themselves in front of the windows.

Jenner scrambled over the peak, heading for the spot where Connor and Oz were battling the newest arrivals.

The other two were overwhelmed, barely holding their own. It was clear, without Jenner’s timely appearance, they wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

Oz ducked under a punch from one solider, but got caught from behind by a different one. He teetered on the roof’s edge, arms outspread. Digging in his toes, he managed to find his balance. Jenner sucker punched one of the soldiers in the back, spinning him around, easily stripping off his flak jacket. The vampire swung again, catching his opponent squarely on the jaw, knocking him out. With a grin, Jenner pushed him off the roof, into the awaiting arms of some of Sunnydale’s Finest.

As he turned to avoid a blow from behind, he caught sight of Faith battling two soldiers. The odds were more in their favor, since Wesley and some other man joined the fray. He didn’t recognize the newcomer at all, though he relaxed when Oz laconically greeted him while dodging a viscous blow from one of the soldiers.

The unknown started to slip, his feet sliding on the roof and Jenner grabbed his collar, pulling him clear. A brief recognition of thanks, and Jenner was off again, looking around for another soldier to subdue. Oz sidestepped casually knocking his opponent into the other soldier, sending both flying. The first one seesawed briefly on the roof’s edge, arms flailing as he tried to maintain his balance.

Jenner had barely moved in the soldier’s direction, intent on knocking him off the roof when the distinctive whine of an arrow whistled past his ear. The bolt struck the soldier chest high, avoiding the heart, but sending him off the roof.

The fighting on the roof came to a standstill, when a commando caught Faith from behind. Gun held to her head, he ordered, “Stand down.”

Giles eased his crossbow down to his waist though it was still aimed directly at the soldier, while Xander and Connor held up their hands. Oz shifted on his feet, looking at Jenner for his reaction. The vampire was blocked, Xander’s still form between him and the captive Faith, though Oz could see he was trying to decide how to handle this.

The soldier grabbed Faith’s hair, pulling her closer. Jenner’s low growl resounded in the darkness, causing varying reactions from the humans. Luckily, the soldier couldn’t pinpoint the origin. Xander’s shoulders tensed for a heartbeat, then he eased to his right, giving Jenner a better angle.

Oz dropped to his haunches, feeling the shift start, his canines elongating and claws strengthening. His eyes never left the soldier’s face, though he could sense the others moving imperceptibly. Jenner’s calm demeanor masked the agitation surging beneath.

“Don’t anyone move.” The unnecessary cliche didn’t fall from his lips, though all of them knew what was implied.

“You’re outnumbered.” Giles raised the bow, aiming it clearly at the soldier’s throat.

“She’ll be dead before you can shoot.” Faith’s head was pulled upward, shielding as much of the soldier as possible, given their height difference.

“She dies, you die.” None of them flinched at the statement, though Jenner raised an eyebrow. There was an edge to Rupert Giles’ voice that none of them had ever heard before. “We have reached a stalemate. It is your choice how this progresses.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



When Sloth and Lowenstein disappeared Riley tightened their ranks, placing Gebhardt on his right and Lansome on the left. Stealth was no longer an issue, so Riley had them proceeding – cautiously – to the back door. He chose that route, believing it would be the lesser protected.

What he hadn’t anticipated at all were other military men stepping out from the back garden, guns drawn. Dressed completely in black, even their faces were masked. Not recognizing any of them and unable to glimpse any identifying insignia, Riley at first assumed they were additional back-up. At least until one of them spoke.

“Drop your weapons.”

Riley raised his gun aiming at the speaker. “Don’t think I should do that.”

The other didn’t flinch. “Suit yourself, yank. We’ll just wait about until you see reason.”

“Four on four. Odds are pretty even. I’ll take my chance.” Riley’s voice was confident, believing his air support would be sufficient.

That smugness lasted all of five heartbeats.

There was a slight rustle behind them, the barest hint of a sound, then Riley felt cool air waft past his neck. “Should have listened to him.”

The weapons were wrenched away in the next instant, all four Initiative officers pushed to the ground face first.

“Odds just changed, yank.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Spike managed to coax Buffy to stay in bed, her obvious fatigue and distress somehow breaking through his anger. Despite his current status as a liability, Spike didn’t fool himself into believing he could actually fight. He’d just end up getting hurt – or worse – endangering Buffy because of his foolishness.

It wasn’t smart for her to be thinking of fighting. Didn’t matter that she was super human and blessed with strength and healing no mortal could boast. She’d just given birth to twins.

And while he had no doubts in his mind or heart that she couldn’t go ahead and walk around, do laundry or hell, even spar, Spike didn’t want Buffy fighting.

Besides, he knew Wesley was just looking for a reason to beat down Riley Finn. Hell, he was also fairly certain Faith wanted a shot at him as well.

So instead, Spike focused his considerable attention – and his frustrated anger – on keeping Buffy calm and distracted.

Luckily for him, his children rose to the occasion. First one, then the other stirred, though neither broke into an outright cry. They didn’t get the chance. Spike scooped them up, bringing them both to Buffy’s side.

“Need their mum.” He laid the pink bundle down next to her, depositing the blue one in her arms. “Need to be close, to keep warm.”

Buffy stared down at the baby’s tiny face, unable to look away. “They’re so small.”

“They’ll grow.” They’d almost forgotten Anya’s presence. “You’ll need to start preparing for college.”

A shaky laugh broke from Buffy’s lips. “Oh, god, Anya! They’re not even a day old! Give us a little bit of time.”

“It’s never too early for financial planning. And with your Calling, you should have a couple of contingency plans.” Anya faced them squarely, arms folded across her chest. “We should invest our earnings aggressively. And charge the Council double for out of town jobs.”

Spike shook his head, sharing a bewildered look with Buffy. “How ‘bout we let you handle the dosh, okay, pet?”

The former vengeance demon nodded sagely. “I’ve already got some ideas.”

“Great.” Buffy sighed, “We can talk about this later.” In the next breath, she asked, “What’s going on outside?”

“The house is surrounded by Lawson and it looks like most of the Brackens.” Anya peered out the window. “And whatever the witches decided to do seems to be working. There’s a green mist covering the grass and sliding up the walls. It’s really quite pretty.”

“Witches?” Buffy looked up sharply. “What was that about the witches?”

Once more Anya turned away from the window. “Kait and Grace offered to help. And so did Dawn.” She waited a beat, then blurted out, “They’re using Willow.”

“Willow’s here?” Buffy’s gaze swung from Anya to Spike. “Why’s Willow here?”

“She wanted to warn us ‘bout the Commandos, though that was the other night. Don’t rightly know why she’s here now.”

Anya shrugged, picking up where Spike left off. “She showed up earlier. I guess she stayed.”

“Huh. Xander and Willow.” Buffy lapsed into silence, her attention caught by the now fully awake baby. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

Silence filled the bedroom until Spike’s ears picked up a sound he dreaded. “Bloody – those bastards.”

He sprung up from the bed, heading for the window. Both women reacted, one talking over the other, their words blending together into just white noise.

“Should’ve seen this one coming, Slayer. Bastard called in air support.”

“What?!”

“Oh, no he didn’t.”

Buffy nearly dumped the baby on the bed, changed her mind and gingerly his sister then holding them both close.

“Might want to get that call to Arashmahar ready, pet.”




I'm sorry it took so long to update this one. There's a posting issue over at BSV, and I wanted to give them a chance to fix it, but unfortunately, that hasn't happened, so I'm just going to go ahead and post this. Another delay was my 5 day stint in the hospital. I'm home now, doing better. Hopefully you'll all forgive me for the lack of updates and share some love with me.