Crossover: HL/BtVS (before “Prodigal Son” HL!verse, between series 6 and 7 Buffy!verse)

Characters: Xander, RR, Buffy, Dawn, Giles, Anya, oc

For prompt: 065 Passing

Summary: it’s time Richie was just passing through.

A/N: as far as I know there has never been a King Christopher of anywhere – this was deliberate.

It was only when Richie felt the presence of another Immortal while he was in the Magic Box that he realised how devoid this town was of his kind. Living around Mac everyday had made him so used to the feeling, but now, after such a long time without it, the presence of another Immortal seemed appropriately intimidating.

“Richie? You ok?”

He put a hand up to stop Xander’s question as the shop’s bell dinged and the one he had been feeling stepped inside, meeting his eyes before turning to listen to Anya’s bubbly sales pitch.

“Someone you know?” Buffy asked warily. It was Saturday afternoon and Richie and Xander had met Dawn and Buffy at the shop. They had just been deciding what they were going to do, Giles chipping in with dry British commentary periodically as he catalogued some of the more potent magical books, when Richie paused.

“No. No one I know.”

Richie stood, approaching the newcomer as Anya hurried away to fulfil his request.

“Hey, Richie Ryan,” he offered a hand, trying to look harmless.

The stranger, a tall, gaunt-looking man, looked down his nose at the proffered hand until it was withdrawn.

“Raymond Goldsmith the third.”

Richie got the point: this guy wasn’t out to make friends.

“You looking for me?”

“No, I am looking for a certain sword I was told was here.”

“Cool.”

“Is there a problem?” Buffy asked suddenly from near Richie’s elbow, making him jump.

He did his best to smile, though in fact he couldn’t wait till this man got what he came for and left.

“No problem!” He said brightly, turning to go back to the table and their plans for the day just as Anya came out of the back room holding a long, neatly wrapped package.

“Here you go! King Christopher’s bastard broadsword. Pretty specialist item I can tell you. Wasn’t easy to get, but I’m sure the payment will make it worthwhile!”

“Thank you.” The Raymond said darkly, dropping his credit card on the counter, before swiftly drawing the sword.

Richie turned at the noise, freezing as he saw the intent look in the man’s eyes.

“Now we have a problem,” he mumbled, before diving for where he had been sitting, pulling out his rapier from his coat where it hung on the chair.

He just caught Raymond’s first attack in time, the clang of metal on metal ringing loudly in such a small space.

“This isn’t how we do things!” Richie protested, gesturing to the mortals in the room.

Raymond scoffed. “They will not survive to tell about it, but then they knew already about you didn’t they. I could see it in your friends’ sudden concern.”

He attacked again, Richie catching the moves sloppily as he stumbled round over his chair. From the corner of his eye he could see Xander standing protectively in front of Dawn, moving her away, while Anya eagerly swiped the man’s card.

The ring of another sword being drawn made him glance briefly behind to see Buffy coming out of the training room, sword in hand.

“You mustn’t interfere!” He yelled as he took the opportunity to duck into the training room, Raymond leaping over the table to follow on his heels.

The sight of the training room, complete with weaponry and suspicious stains made Raymond pause enough for Richie to strike back, but not enough to get in a damaging cut.

Buffy was following them in now with Giles close behind. Richie didn’t like the way she was still holding that sword, looking for an opening.

“Giles, keep her back.” He warned. “You know the rules.”

Giles nodded, though as Richie parried Raymond’s next strikes he could see the British man wasn’t happy about it. Well he didn’t have to be happy, he just had to obey the rules.

“So they do know,” Raymond said, pausing for a moment. “I wasn’t sure. No matter, they will all be dead soon anyway.”

Richie grit his teeth and moved in, but in his haste he took a deep cut to the side that made him cry out, dropping to the floor. He thought he had had it, stuck there on his hands and knees gasping in pain as Raymond moved in for the final strike, but just as it was almost too late his realised what he was seeing under his hands.

Standing, he pulled the mat out from under Raymond’s feet as hard as he could, crying out in pain as he felt his wound tear and drip blood onto the floor. Raymond fell hard, but more importantly he fell with his head slamming into the concrete floor revealed underneath the mat, stunning him. Clutching his side, all Richie had to do was stumble a few steps and hack downwards and then it was done.

He collapsed onto his knees as he felt the energy rise and gasped to his friends to stay away as they crept warily closer.

The first hit of the Quickening was agony and bliss, but beyond that moment he could not remember. He did not think he blacked out, but the Quickening was just too intense to register in his mind. Raymond was old, he should never have won, wouldn’t have if he hadn’t fallen just at the edge of the mat where he could yank it out from under his opponent’s feet.

Maybe this Quickening would mean the next one wasn’t a fluke.

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He came back to his aching body as soon as the Quickening receded to see a cluster of awed faces crowded round the door. Giles was the first to come forward, helping Richie to his feet, and making him groan with the effort of moving so far as to sit on a closed trunk full of god knew what.

“I’ll get something to clean you up,” he offered, once Richie was settled and the others were coming forward. Dawn wore a sick expression as she stared at the headless corpse Giles turned her gently around. “Dawn, could you give me a hand.”

“Just be glad he gave me the money first.” Anya said, before turning away at the sound of the shop’s bell.

“That was…whoa.”

Richie coughed. “Yeah,” he looked around, noticing the damage the Quickening had done. “Sorry about the scorch marks.”

“That was, I mean…with the…and the lightning…and-”

As Xander babbled on Richie met Buffy’s eyes. It was time he left. Her look told him that this was too much to bring to their already full doorstep.

“Oh and wow,” Xander continued, moving over to the body, “it’s…” he swallowed thickly, “It’s not going to disappear, is it? We’re gonna have to clean up dead guy parts…”

It was definitely time to go.

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“Joe? It’s Rupert.”

“Hey Ripper, how you been? Long time no see.”

“Yes, long time. I don’t go by Ripper anymore…”

“Sorry man didn’t mean to dredge up the past. So what’s up? Why you calling me after all this time?”

“Just business this time Joe. I haven’t seen one of your Watchers around and I thought you’d like to know: Raymond Goldsmith just lost his head to Riche Ryan.”

“No shit? I know the kid: I wouldn’t have thought he had it in him.”

“Seems he has a resourceful streak.”

“Good to know. Thanks Rupert. Maybe next time you’re down near Washington you’ll drop in and see and old friend?”

“I’m actually going back to England…”

“Well if you ever feel like looking me up just give me a call.”

“Thanks Joe. I’ll do that.”