TITLE: Slayers and Werewolves and Harts, oh my!
AUTHOR: Claudine
EMAIL: claudine423@yahoo.com
PAIRING: W/G
RATING: PG
FEEDBACK: If I beg ???? :-)
CATAGORY: Crossover - with Hart to Hart
NOTES: This is a future fic. Basically it's canon, assuming that Oz is related to Hart's in the way I mention. The whole "First" thing happened, Anya died, etc. But Willow is now with Giles. And I know it's a stretch, but these are probably my two favorite, though VERY different, shows. I just had to get them together somehow J
DISCLAIMER: Permission to use these characters relating to BtVS & AtS has not been given. Joss, Twentieth Century Fox, UPN, WB & Mutant Enemy own TM and copyrighted them. Nor do I own the rights to Hart to Hart or any of the other stories/songs I mention. Gimme a freakin' break Mr. Copyright man - I'm merely a humble fan havin' some fun. No infringement is intended. Say goodnight, Gracie.....
Chapter One
"That'll be fine. Yes...." Jennifer Hart sat on the edge of her desk, shoe dangling off her foot as she finished up her telephone conversation with the newest antiques dealer in town. Her husband was watching her from across the room and her little shoe trick was just one of many signs that indicated she was flirting with him. Even after all those years of marriage, the Hart's were old romantics. "The credenza, the armoire and the four poster bed. Right…..I'm looking forward to it, Ethan." She hung up the phone and raised an eyebrow toward her husband. "Jealous?"
"Beyond reason," he said and stood up slowly. He flashed her a smile as he stalked toward her. "Darling, don't take this the wrong way, but don't we already own all the antiques in Bel Air?"
"Almost," she said and wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself softly into his embrace, "But almost only counts...."
Jonathan cut her off, "I know - and since this is neither a game of horseshoes, nor a hand grenade...I guess I have no choice but to give into you." He smiled, his blue eyes sparkling like diamonds.
"Awww...." she cooed and pressed her lips to his briefly. "Thank you, darling. I promise to make it up to you."
This intrigued him. "Now that sounds like an offer I can't refuse." He squeezed her tighter, and dipped her as if they were dancing before he placed a delicate kiss at the base of her neck.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Are you certain?" Rupert Giles rustled through a large stack of papers on his desk while he cradled the phone between his ear and his shoulder. "Yes, I understand. Ok. Thank you."
“What was that about?” Willow was comfortably nestled on the sofa, their sofa, wrapped up in a blanket and sipping from a cup of tea. She had been asleep until Giles' voice woke her.
”Seems as though Ethan Rayne has popped up again. Like a bad penny, the ponce.” He dropped his glasses on the desk and made his way over to Willow. He sat beside her and took the glass away from her before taking her hands in his. “But I don't want you to worry about it. You need your rest.”
Willow was weak. She had just gotten over an ancient ‘flu' curse that left her exhausted and worn down. They had been researching the inscription on a sarcophagus that had been delivered to the gallery. The gallery – the one Joyce Summers used to work at. After her death, and that whole “The First” apocalyptic nightmare, Giles and Willow, along with magic borrowed from the coven back in England, rebuilt a large portion of Sunnydale. Parts that had fallen directly into the Hellmouth were irreparable, but most of the town was salvageable. Though it wasn't exactly listed as one of the safest places in America to live, Sunnydale seemed to be thriving these days. And the big, honkin' hole that the battle with "The First" had left in the center of town had been turned into a monster skate-zone. Buffy let the beasts live and keep their lairs around town with one condition – the first corpse that was found would bring an end to their little monster mash. It kept all the demons and vamps in check - they all kept an eye on each other. But really, mostly, it was Giles' plan to lull them all into a false sense of security before he unleashed complete chaos on them. He figured the false 'freedom' would draw hundreds of vamps and other night-dwellers to town, and then, when they weren't looking, he and his Slayer would annihilate them all. Quite a plan - in theory.
“I'm fine,” Willow said, “Besides, I need to get back into the swing of things.” But she didn't mean it. She did, but not right at that moment. Curled up on the sofa on this rainy day was exactly where she wanted to be. With Giles. “Maybe we should call Buffy and get everyone over here for a pow-wow.”
“No, no,” he said, “I'll take care of Ethan.”
Willow looked at Giles and smiled. Handsome man. Protective, strong, loving. She couldn't believe that they were finally together. It had been a year. It was still hard for the rest of the group to accept their relationship, but Willow and Giles slipped into a routine like they were an old couple. “I think it's time, Giles, don't you?”
He knew what she meant, though he didn't want to admit it. They had been in touch with everyone from time to time, but they just weren't working together as a whole anymore.
Willow knew that their efforts were best combined, as did Giles, but something kept them from pushing everyone too much. “I'm not ready. The house isn't ready. The weapons…haven't arrived….there's too much to do before we set the plan in motion.
“Giles!” She interrupted softly, “There will always be excuses, but we can't keep putting it off. Big Evil. Brewing. Right here. We can fight it alone and get mangl-y in the process, or we can fight it together, like the old days. Let's get everyone together and handle…what did you call him?”
“The ponce…”
“Right, we'll handle the measly little ponce, then we can make with the joining forces to stomp out the non-sapiens.” She kissed his cheek. “Don't make me get veiny,” she said.
He just laughed and wrapped her in his arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, Uncle Max!”
“Danny!” Max extended his hand to greet his nephew, but after a second gave in and hugged him instead as they stood in the doorway of a sprawling mansion. “Good to see you.” Max moved aside and welcomed Daniel into his home – the Hart's home.
“Nice place you got here.”
“I do ok,” Max joked. He knew his nephew was aware of his ‘butler' status, but the Hart's were his family, now, and they lived together as such. Max took care of them because he loved them. And they considered their home – his home. “So, you married, yet? That pretty little redhead from a while back, maybe, the one you used to send me pictures of?” He led his nephew to the kitchen while they caught up.
“No, no – that was, like, ten years ago, uncle Max.”
“How'm I s'posed to know? You don't call, you don't write. Last I heard you were in…uh…” Max searched his brain for the right answer, but he was getting old and forgetful. He smiled at Danny and shrugged when he couldn't come up with the boy's last known whereabouts. “My ticker's ok, but my brain ain't workin' like it used to.”
“S'ok. Last you heard I was probably in Sunnydale. But I took off after graduation and have been traveling around ever since.” He sat at the counter while his uncle prepared some tea. “No, not married.”
“So what brings you here? I was surprised to get your message last week. I'm glad you called, though, I've been thinking about you a lot, lately.” Max prepared some food while they talked - sandwiches, pastries, that sort of thing.
“Been thinking about you, too, Uncle Max. Listen, uh…I actually have some bad news.
Dad died.” Danny reached out a hand and placed it on Max's arm. He normally wouldn't, but because of the situation, the fact that nobody had called the poor man, Danny felt the need to comfort him. “I'm sorry.”
Max wasn't his biological Uncle, but he was his godfather. Max and Danny's father grew up together. “Geez, uh….why didn't anybody call me?”
“I don't know. I was out of the country and they never contacted me, either. Kinda found out by accident. Guess it was a good thing I dropped in to pick up a few things when I did. I just finished up the paperwork with the lawyers. They didn't have your name or number. And mom…she's really out of it.”
“Sure, sure, I understand. Sorry, kid, that must have been hard for you, comin' home to find that out.” Max wasn't one to over-emote.
“Thanks.” He reached into a bag he had brought with him. “He wanted you to have this. There wasn't a will, but…he always talked about you and I know he meant to leave this to you.”
Max reached out and took the gift his nephew offered. “The time capsule.”
Time capsule – what a laugh. It was an old metal lunchbox. “We buried this in 1934 at your grandmother's house. Dug it up on our 60th birthday. That damn bottle of Coca-cola your father buried with it was still sealed. I couldn't believe it. Did he tell ya we had the same birthday? I was older, though, five minutes." Max spoke as if he was proud, like a big brother.
“He told me. That was right before I graduated - I remember the capsule from the mantel above our fireplace.”
Just then the door from the living room swung open and in walked the Hart's, looking as handsome a couple as ever. “Hello, Max.” The couple seemed completely unaware that they had interrupted a family moment.
“Hey, Mr. and Mrs. H – this is my nephew, Danny.”
“Actually, it's Oz.” Oz had never corrected his uncle, but he preferred that new people call him by his nickname.
”Hello, Oz,” Jonathan Hart unhooked an arm from his wife's shoulder and extended it to shake Oz's hand.
“Nice to meet you,” Jennifer said and shook his hand.
"Me and Danny are goin' out for a fancy dinner," Max said, beaming from ear to ear. The mistiness that hung in his eyes was no longer visible.
"Oh, no, that's ok, you don't have to go to any trouble." Oz truly meant it. He was happy with a sandwich and a beer. Not even a beer, a nice, tall glass of anything that wasn't on the menu at Willy the Snitch's place.
"What trouble? You're family. We eat good here in Bel Air - wait'll you see." Max threw an arm around Oz.
"Sounds nice. Besides, my new furniture is being delivered in a few hours, Max, the place will be a mess." Jennifer helped herself to some tea.
"That's right," Jonathan said and then whispered in his wife's ear, "I forgot about the new bed."
"How long are you in town, Oz?" Jennifer asked.
"Not long. A few days, maybe."
"Well, you'll stay here with us, then" Jonathan said, "I insist."
Oz looked around at the mansion and smiled. "Ok."
"Max, will you do me a favor?"
"Sure, Mrs. H." Max would do anything for the Hart's. And for Oz.
"Would you mind waiting half an hour before you leave? Mr. Hart and I have a meeting in town and Ethan will be here with the furniture before we get back. Let him in?" Jennifer sipped the spot of her tea and put the teacup in the sink. "He'll be fine once he's inside."
"Sure, sure, anything." Max turned to his nephew. "You wanna grab a shower or something, I got the pool house all set up for you. Why don't you get yourself settled."
"Ok, sounds good." Oz walked over to the wall where he had dropped his bags when he first walked in. "Thanks, Mr. Hart, I appreciate it."
"Any time, Oz. Consider this place home. Any relative of Max's is welcome here any time." Jonathan smiled and winked - something he did very well.
"What was his name again, Mrs. H? The antiques guy?" Max asked.
"Ethan," she said. "Ethan...Rayne."
Oz froze.
Chapter Two
“Ok, so what's the plan again?” Cordy asked as they approached the gate of a mansion in Bel Air. She was with Xander, but his eyes were on the road while she prattled away in the passenger seat. So much had happened between high school and this moment. After she woke up from her coma and found Angel and the gang working at Evil, Inc., she decided she needed to go and do her own thing. But her own thing brought her back to Sunnydale and back to Xander Harris. Though Buffy and the others didn't know she was back, Cordy and Xander had been together for two months. They were keeping their relationship a secret until just the right moment presented itself. But it hadn't. At least not yet.
“The plan is we get in there and get the Mnemosyne sphere before it does some serious damage. But Ethan can't know we followed him here.” Xander pulled over as soon as he saw the surveillance camera above the gate. He parked the car to the side of the road, behind a few bushes. “I just hope he doesn't try and use it before we get inside. I mean, if he does, then he puts himself at risk, too – so he'll probably deliver it and then go and perform the spell somewhere that's else....where.”
“But what if he activates it while we're inside? Then we get zapped? And why did we follow him here? Aren't we just putting these people in danger?” Cordelia Chase always had questions.
"No," Xander said pointedly, "Ethan is putting them in danger - we are here to help."
"Whatever you say, Clark."
"What?"
"Clark?" Cordy assumed he got her jibe. "Kent?"
But Xander only shook his head as if he didn't get the reference.
"You know, Superman? Dweeb by day - superhero at....oh, never mind." She looked around the car, searching for a weapon of some sort. Force of habit. "So, wait, tell me again what happened and why, after we broke in to that antiques store last night, you let us come out empty handed? Why is that orb-thingy still in his possession?"
Xander took a deep breath. He loved Cordy - always had, but she wore him down sometimes.
“First of all, we didn't break in, I did - you just drove the getaway car. And second - I already told you - when I was in the store, Ethan came back in. And if he caught me there, I didn't want him to find the sphere on me, so I put it back in the armoire where I found it, thinking I'd break in again and get it back tonight. But then I found out that he sold the armoire and was delivering it today.” He was shaking his head at his own stupidity. "I know he's got something planned, I just don't know what it is."
“Why didn't you grab the sphere again when you snuck out?” Cordy was rehashing it as if it should have been a simple task: break in, find desired object, leave unnoticed. Not so simple, it turns out.
He mimicked her and mocked her with her own words, "Why didn't you just...I am not having this discussion again! Let's look ahead, now, shall we. We can't un-do the past.” Xander said. Actually, in their world, you could sometimes, but it took a trip to see the PTB, and nobody liked doing that.
“Well, we'll just wait until Ethan leaves and then ask the people that live there to let us in to get something out of the armoire.” Cordelia made it sound so simple.
Xander pointed out the flaw in her plan, “Hi – Mr. and Mrs. so-and-so, would you mind checking inside of your fancy new armoire for a deadly sphere that sucks the memory out of any living thing it touches? I kinda lost it the other day after I stole it from Ethan Rayne when I broke into his store. Thanks…I'd really appreciate it. Oh and, by the way, you just did business with a pathetic, demon-worshipping, greed-driven man, I'd check your wallets and your souls to make sure they're still intact.”
Cordy just shrugged. “We could vague it up.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oz was pacing back and forth in the pool house at the Hart's mansion. He was at a loss. How was he going to explain Ethan Rayne to his uncle? At least the Hart's had already gone out, that was two less blank stares he had to endure. Maybe his uncle would understand and come up with an excuse to NOT let Ethan into the Hart's house. He decided he needed to do something, and quick, so he headed back inside. A man like Ethan Rayne could cause a whole lotta trouble in Jonathan Hart's life.
"Sure, c'mon in," Max said and released the button of the intercom to the front gate.
"Uncle Max, was that the furniture guy?" Oz closed the back door behind him as he made his way into the kitchen.
"Yeah. Soon as I let him in we can head out for dinner. I don't know about you, but I could eat a horse," Max said and smiled.
Oz ignored the myriad of werewolf-related anecdotes running through his head. "Listen, I didn't want to say anything to the Hart's, but...this Ethan Rayne - he's not a nice guy. I know him from Sunnydale. He hurt some people I know - in a really, really bad way that I can't elaborate on right now." Oz had no idea what else to say but tried his best. "Uncle Max, you can't let him in."
"What are you talking about? What'd he do?" Max took a puff on his cigar and then leaned on the counter.
"I really can't explain, I'm just..." Oz looked over his shoulder when he heard a car door at the back entrance. "You just have to trust me...please. He can't see me, he knows who I am, so I'm gonna go in the other room ok? But if he's here, uncle Max, it's because he has a plan - and it looks like Mr. and Mrs. Hart have a lot to lose." He didn't really give his uncle a chance think much about it before he left the room. "Whatever you do, don't let him out of your sight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Why don't we just call Giles?" Dawn asked from the passenger seat.
"No!" Buffy was driving frantically, trying to catch up with the man they had just seen. Ethan Rayne. "We don't know if it was really him, anyway. And if it is him, I have no idea what he's doing. Ever hear of recon? We have to find a few things out before we call Willow and Giles."
"But Giles," Dawn didn't get a chance to finish.
"Giles nothing. You heard him - Willow's sick. We don't need to worry them about something that might be nothing. Let's just relax a minute, ok?" Buffy hated driving - she'd never been any good at it. Even coming up on 30, she still felt like a teenager behind the wheel. As she told Riley once - Buffy and cars were un-mixy things.
As they rounded a curve in the road Dawn noticed the moving van they were following pulling into a gated mansion. She also noticed another car parked on the side of the road. "Buffy, stop!"
Buffy saw the car, too, and slowed down. "That's odd. This is a nice neighborhood, why would somebody be lurkin-..." she realized that the car parked by the bushes looked familiar. "Oh, wait a minute..."
"Xander?" Dawn said. She immediately picked up her cell phone and called his.
"Oh, great," Xander said, reading the display on his phone. "It's Dawn." He looked up at the roof of the car as if he would find the answer to his next question, "Now what do I do?"
"Answering it would be a good idea." Cordy just rolled her eyes.
"We're kinda busy here, in case you haven't noticed." He gave into the ringing and answered, pretending that everything was fine. "Hey, Dawnie, what's shakin'?"
"Lurk much?" Dawn asked.
"What? Lurk?" He laughed. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just..."
"Sitting in a car in the bushes on a road in Bel Air?" Dawn asked.
“How…” Xander looked over his shoulder and nodded toward the car to draw Cordelia's attention there. “What are you doing here?”
“Following someone we think is Ethan Rayne,” Dawn said, You?”
“Same.” He told Cordy what Dawn had said. “Only we know for sure that it really IS Ethan.”
“Ask him why they're here,” Buffy said. But Dawn just shushed her.
“Listen, why don't you and Buffy head home, I'll take care of this. I'll call you later and let you know what's going on.” Xander clicked his phone shut before Dawn could respond.
“But….” Dead air.
“What?” Buffy asked, snippily.
“He said he's taking care of it, though I'm not sure what ‘it' is exactly.” Dawn went to dial his number again, but Buffy was already out of the car and on her way to Xander.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Max stepped outside to greet the delivery man, who actually turned out to be Ethan himself. “Mr. Rayne?” Max asked, his voice gruff but unthreatening as he puffed on his cigar.
“Yes, and you are?” Ethan held out a hand to greet Max.
“Just call me Max. I take care of the Hart's. You can put all that in the pool house.” He nodded toward the truck and smiled, but down inside he wasn't sure if that was the right decision. His nephew didn't want this guy anywhere near the house, but this was the best Max could do on two seconds notice.
Ethan smiled. “Perhaps Mrs. Hart would prefer if I left these items inside the house - she was rather excited about them. This armoire, in particular, was an extraordinary find."
Ordinarily Max wouldn't have noticed every little nuance, but the situation was making him take notice – and Ethan Rayne looked like a man on the verge with his constant smiling and looking over his shoulder. “I'm really sorry,” Max said leading Ethan away from the house, “But she left me instructions. Whattr'ya gonna do?” He pretended he was merely a humble servant.
“Of course,” Ethan said. He opened the back of his van and unloaded the first piece on his own – an antique credenza. Though it was awkward, Ethan managed the item quite well. He then unloaded the pieces of the bed separately – all while Max watched from back door. By the time he got to the armoire he realized he was going to need help. He looked the old man up and down and decided against asking for help – the last thing he needed was for Max to have a heart attack and die in front of him. While he was still inside the van, he weaved a spell that lifted the armoire off the ground like it was riding on a blanket of air. He then leaned it against his dolly, giving the illusion that he was actually supporting this thing on his own. Ethan hoped Max wasn't looking too closely.
Oz watched from a crack in the door as Ethan unloaded everything and then handed his uncle an invoice to sign. He just hoped that it was truly an invoice his uncle was signing because with Ethan Rayne involved, Uncle Max may have just signed a deal with the devil.
TBC...