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Author of 48 Stories |
Ravages Of Hell (32/32)
"It's Friday again," Jonathan Ross grinned at the camera, "Friday Night With Jonathan Ross. And do I have a special show for you tonight. An act that's not only headlining in Vegas, his first album selling over eight million copies before its release, but is also the Council's publicity officer. Yes, he's here, he's demonic, he's Lorne!" The crowd erupted as the demon walked out onto the set, 4 Puffs And A Piano singing along to 'Dedicated Follower Of Fashion'.
"I'll be honest with you Lorne," Jonathan said as his guest sat down. "It's a pleasure to have you here, but you weren't my first choice as Council guest. I'd often had a yearning to have Faith on my couch."
"Oh be honest Jonathan," Lorne giggled. "Hasn't every man?"
"Or even Kennedy. Or Dawn. I love powerful women, but that Miss. Rosenberg she's a little too powerful."
"Always loved your show Jonathan," purred the red-horned demon, "and don't listen to what people say, it takes nerve to dress like us."
"Well thank you, Lorne." Jonathan smiled. "And is being a demon a barrier with the ladies?"
"I'd like to be modest and say no, Jonathan, but who am I kidding?" Lorne laughed. "The ladies love the green!" The crowd erupted into cheers and security struggled to contain some of the Lornies, as the demon's groupies had become known as. "These days I get more panties than Tom Jones!"
"The question I've always wanted answering is clean or unclean. No," he laughed, "don't answer that. It's still a surprise to see a demon out in public. I'm given to understand a number of demons work for the Council?"
"Oh yes," Lorne smiled. "I mean could anything evil dress this well?"
"Quite." Jonathan looked down at his notes, wondering if this interview was going to stay under his control. "I understand you were a close friend of the vampire, Angel."
"Yes, Angel," Lorne sighed, his mood taking a down-turn. "That man, he was troubled, but he had the soul of a hero."
"And his son, Connor caused him some problems?"
"That kid," Lorne shook his head, "caused the whole world problems, he made Axel Rose seem saintly, but his dad would be proud of the man he is now."
"And the question I've got to ask," Jonathan leaned forward. "Is Faith is as fierce as she seems?"
"Oh you'll get me in trouble," Lorne laughed. "On the outside that girl's all cacti, but on the inside, she's pure desert flower."
"And I understand you agreed to come on here if we allowed you to make an appeal?"
"That I did, Jonathan," the demon looked into the camera. "Harris, I'm talking to you kid. I don't know what your problem is. Guess what, I don't care. All I know is you're hurting those who love you, causing some of the sweetest people it's ever been my pleasure to know pain. Now get those tight little buns back home, because if you keep us waiting much longer, when we do get our hands on you, I'll tie you down and force you to listen to the Spice Girls' back catalogue continuously for a month."
"Now there's a threat!" Jonathan smiled before glancing at his notes. "Now your act's sold out for months-."
"Years," the smirking demon corrected.
"In advance. What do you sing?"
"Hello, Huw," Gavin greeted. "Today it was announced that troops would be selected from volunteers from the special forces of countries that had signed the UN Demonic-Security Charter."
"And I understand that more information was released as to regards the selection panels?" Huw enquired.
"Yes," Gavin nodded. "The panels will be made up of three people. A Watcher – either Sir Rupert Giles, Dawn Summers, Robin Wood, Mr. Robson, or Miss Rosenberg. A ranking supernatural warrior – Faith, Kennedy, Connor, the Groosalug, Vi, or Rona. And a military officer – either General Finn, Colonel Finn, or Captain Miller. Assuming the applicant passes the interview, they will then have to sing for the psychic demon, Lorne."
"And once someone is selected, they will go through a rigorous training course?" Huw pressed.
"That's correct, this training will in the words of Miss Rosenberg 'familiarise the trainees with demons, magic, and lots of other fun stuff.'" Gavin smiled. "Miss Rosenberg's words, not mine."
The screen changed to a video obviously shot earlier in the day. A gym door swung open and Faith strode out, clad in lyrca shorts and a black 'Pitbull Gym' tanktop, hair tied back in a pony-tail. "Yeah thanks," Faith smirked as she signed autographs. "My pleasure, remember if ya can't be good, be careful."
"Miss Lehane!" a voice shouted out and an Access Hollywood reporter ran into shot, microphone at the ready. "A word."
The Slayer's chocolate eyes rolled back. "Sure," she shrugged. "I always gotta time for the press."
"Have you any comments regarding Hugh Heffner's increased offer for you to pose-."
The reporter's mike was snatched from him. It was the fourth time that Maria had seen the footage but even so she couldn't help shiver at the sudden coldness in the brunette's eyes. "Oh yeah, I got a few comments," the Slayer's voice was harder than steel. "Hugh, honey. I don't blame ya for wanting to get your wrinkled hands on this piece of prime expletive." The raven-tressed beauty's hands slowly moved down her body. "But 2 million, 5 million, expletive ten, don't make no difference, the answer's still expletive no. But ya keep askin', and I will pay ya a expletive visit. But not to pose for ya. To expletive wring ya expletive chicken-neck, rip off your expletive, shove it down your expletive throat, and burn ya expletive mansion to the expletive ground. That clear enough for ya, ya expletive piece of expletive?" The Slayer flung the mike to the ground, turned to leave, spun back around, and scooped the mike before snarling into it. "And the same goes if ya try for any of my girls, ya expletive dig?"
"Hello, Huw," Gavin's face appeared on the screen, "Lorne read," the news reporter looked briefly stunned, "or rather sang a statement that the young man in question had been recovered."
"And what about the rumours about Xander Harris having to be restrained?" Huw asked.
"Lorne would only confirm that everyone was very pleased to have him back with his family."
The Grammy Awards crowd rose as one as the Slayer strode on stage, wearing a low-cut , knee-length silver dress, their clapping seeming to shake the building's foundations. Once the crowd had finally re-taken their seats, Big Kenny spoke. "So, the first thing I want to know is there any truth to the rumours about you and Xander Harris? And if there isn't, is there any hope for The Universal Minister of Love?"
Faiith snorted as she looked towards him. "Not. A. Chance." The curvy Bostonian turned to the crowd. "You call that an ovation? I couldn't hear a thing. Make some noise!"
His co-host beamed. "That's right, Regis. Today, the 25th August 2006, it was confirmed that Faith LeHane and Alexander Harris are getting engaged." Kathie looked towards the audience crowd. "Let's have a round of applause people!"
"Hello, I'm Nancy O'Dell presenting Access Hollywood for you on 24th November 2007 and the big news today is that Lorne is rumoured to have turned down the opportunity to duet with Brittney Spears on her comeback album, 'saying that crazy bitch makes looney-tunes Connor seem low maintenance'."
"Hello, I'm Huw Edwards, this is the Six O' Clock News on the 23rd February 2008. Today, at an undisclosed London location and under the guard of two Paladin Units, Ms. Faith Lehane gave birth to twin boys, Jesse and Rupert Harris. Mother and babies are doing well. And now we're going to a statement from Gavin Hewitt. Gavin?"
"Hello," Gavin beamed. "A red-eyed Rupert Giles read out a statement, the Council head's normal cool reserve slipping on a number of occasions. "Mother and babies are doing well, the father was in attendance at the births. He said he was enormously touched to have one of the boys named after him, the other is named after Xander's boyhood friend who was killed by the vampire, Darla. When asked for any comments from the new mother or father," Gavin Hewitt chuckled. "Faith was qouted to have said 'nine months of carrying, six hours of pushing, you're changing all the diapers Harris, and if I don't get my figure back, run for the hills.'"
The End