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FIC: What the Ohio Board of Tourism Will Never Tell You--MCR/BTVS pt 2
full header & part 1


Chapter Two—Cleveland Rocks Benefit


Emma Davies- Initial Contact Report by Xander Harris
Appendix A-The Cats

Cats of Note
Lucinda- short hair black, white diamond on throat and three white toes left forepaw. The cat who tells Ms. Davies about the Cleveland Hellmouth.

Irma—short hair White with orange-striped spot over left ear & left side of face and orange striped tail. The cat who tells Ms. Davies about the dimensional/time continuum rift in Cardiff.

Matilda—long hair gray and black whirly-patterened tabby, black tipped tail and wears red collar with pure silver cross on it. Ms. Davies says the cross is at Matilda's own insistence. Matilda is the cat that sees and senses demons.

Henrietta the first—Ms Davies first cat, whom she received as a kitten for her fifth birthday. All current cats belonging to Ms Davies are descendants of Henrietta who passed away at the age of sixteen in 1970. Henrietta's spirit is reputedly still bonded to Ms. Davies and a presence in her home.

Clothilde—long hair gray and black stripped tabby white blaze on nose, three white toes right forepaw, littermate of Matilda and Lucinda. The cat who is the Medium, sees and speaks to ghosts.

Tom—Only male cat, huge thirteen pound short hair orange cat usually found on the top of the piano in the living room. The cat who predicts winners of horse races and soccer matches.

Other Cats

Black Short Hair—Maude, Doreen, Ida
Black Long Hair—Virginia
Gray/Black Striped Short Hair Tabby—Tabitha, Julietta, Esme, Deborah, Charlotte, Esther, Hilary, Gwenneth, Frances, Isolde, Victoria
Gray/Black Whirly-patterned Short Hair Tabby—Inez, Carmen, Brynna
Orange Striped Short Hair Tabby—Vivian, Norah
Orange Whirly-patterned Long Hair Tabby—Henrietta the Eighth, Henrietta the Ninth.
White Short Hair—Blanche
White Long Hair—Bianca
Siamese-looking—Judith, Natalia, Antoinette the third
Calico Short Hair—Priscilla, Maureen, Doris the Sixth, Rivka, Alice
Calico Long Hair—Queenie, Bonnie

~From the Watchers Council File on Emma Claire Davies of Cardiff, Wales (b. July 1949- ).



~


“The next idiot that asks me how it feels to be back in Cleveland--” Bob growled. “I am not going to be responsible for my actions.”

“I hear ya,” Frank agreed, and climbed onto Bob's back, stealing his cigarette.

Ray's attention was consumed by his gameboy. Mikey was rocking on his heels staring at his phone's text screen.

Gerard was twitching and pacing, winding up for the show. Gabe's thank yous for being such a great crowd signifying Cobra Starship's set was over with drifted back through the corridors over the thankfully somewhat turned down PA system in the halls. Pete, never one to miss a chance for any sort of publicity, had three fourths of Decaydance signed on to play. Gym Class Heroes and The Academy Is... had both been earlier that afternoon. The Hush Sound were supposed to be the first band the next day, followed immediately by Fall Out Boy as far as any of them knew followed by a bunch of mostly eighties glam and metal bands still around that Ray was dying to see. Iron Maiden out for a single show and so were Metallica and Twisted Sister, Bret Michaels was doing the next day by himself and the third day with Poison. The playing line-ups not so much thought given to who was the biggest name or the hottest thing at the moment or even style of music but who could make it to town at what time and who had to leave when to continue with their already scheduled touring and commitments.

“Gee?” Mikey frowned.

Gerard rolled his shoulders trying to loosen up and shake off the odd feeling he had. “Just keyed up.”

Mikey tilted his head and arched his eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Gerard sighed, relieved he wasn't the only one that felt it.

“What?” Frank frowned.

Mikey gave the barest shake of his head. “Nothing,” Gerard answered. “Just want this over with.”

“No shit,” Bob muttered.

All too soon Brian was there. “Guys, time to head up there.”

Gerard could practically hear Mikey roll his eyes behind him as he made a lame ass joke about the weather being better this time in Cleveland. He forgot about the weird twitchy feeling as he settled into the mind space of the show. Forgetting the world and nothing but the crowd and the show.


~


“Oh please,” Faith rolled her eyes.

“Lame, very lame,” Xander agreed.

“I will kill you!” the vampire screeched and stomped her foot.

“As if,” Faith snorted and threw the wooden knife Xander had carved for her, weighted and filled with lead and some careful spell work applied by Andrew that made it as sharp and functional as any steel blade. It had been dunked in holy water and blessed by Father Pilakowski, who was head priest at the Catholic Church nearest to the school and knew a thing or two about demons, having grown up and lived almost his entire life in Cleveland save for Seminary School and a handful of years when he was newly ordained. Wood was still wood, and Faith was damn good with any knife.

“You—you,” the vampire blinked stupidly before she crumbled to dust and the lead weighted wooden knife dropped to the ground with a clatter.

“Yeah, I did,” Faith snorted. “That's six for me.”

“I've got four and the night's still young,” Xander shot back. Very young. Like all of a half hour past full dark.

“Show off,” sixteen year old Cammi huffed.

“Really,” fourteen year old Bailey agreed. Nods from fifteen year old Hallie and sixteen year old Lindsey signaled their agreement.

“Why did you even bother to bring us?” Fifteen year old Katie wanted to know. “I could be at the movies!”

Xander grabbed Faith around the waist. “No killing stupid slayers.” They all got that the girls liked time to be normal teenagers, and tried to make sure it happened. Dawn had three of the girls inside the Q arena at the moment and they'd been there all day. Cammi, Bailey and Lindsey were going to get to go the next day with Andrew. Tasha, Amber and Ashley were to go the third day again with Dawn. The only two girls not being allowed to go were Katie and Erika.

“Can we send her to Kennedy and Willow?”

Xander snorted. That might be a good solution except for the fact Katie's parents would never agree to letting her go to South America where Willow and Kennedy had been the last six months. Andrew, Tasha, Amber, Ashley and Erika were somewhere around the other side of the arena. Tasha, Amber and Ashley all more experienced Slayers. From the first round of activated potentials, Tasha was nineteen now. Amber and Ashley both eighteen. All three of them at a level they were let to patrol on their own. Between the three of them and Andrew's mojo they should be more than fine, even with the dangerous distraction and uttlerly useless dead weight of Erika with them.

Not even the fact that they'd been on patrol every single night since the Little Apocalypse That Could and been put through the paces of extra training had improved Katie or Erika's abilities any. Yes, they were Slayers and Slayers could naturally, instinctively, mystically fight. But that only went so far when combined with the level of willful head in the ass the two seemed to be dead set on and hanging onto. Separating the girls might go miles in improving their attitudes and realistic life spans as slayers. There wasn't much chance of that since their parents were likely to let either of them out of the country. Amazingly, even after all the trouble they'd had with the Old Council when they were still in Sunnydale. It was Buffy who complained that the girls should just go where they were sent. Buffy had a point they were endangering everyone, because a Hellmouth was the last place for one Slayer let alone two who were...just so...well, stupid. At just turned fifteen and not quite fifteen there really wasn't much more anyone could do if their parents wouldn't let them be sent out of the country and sending them home wasn't much an option either. They'd attract some demon's attention and get themselves, and anyone near them, killed.

“Shit,” Xander hissed. “Faith?” The group moving through the shadows, foot falls and a clump of moving shadows through the still shadows of the parking lot full of busses and vans and semi-trucks behind the venue.

“I see 'em.”

Xander pointed toward the two security guards.

“On it,” Faith grinned and tossed her wooden knife to Xander. She sauntered over to the two. One soon enough had her pinned up against the side of a bus while she was kissing him stupid. His partner thankfully well distracted by watching her than paying attention.

“Katie, against the wall and shut up. Bailey, Lindsey, stay with her, watch for Faith. She'll signal if things go haywire. Cammi, Hallie, with me.”

Got it, X, was whispered in his head. Damn he kisses good.

Didn't need to know that. Xander shot back silently. The telepathy spell had been a gift in Africa when Faith had shown up to help with a would be Ascension. The spell permanently affixed by way of a magicked on rune tattoo behind their ears. That had taken almost a month to figure out how to control it so it only worked when they wanted it to, not constantly in one another's heads. It was also not something they'd ever 'fessed up to anyone. Neither of them too keen on Willow trying to make her own version of a permanent telepathy spell rather than the temporary links often implemented during rounds of “Stop the Apocalypse”. Or worse—Andrew attempting it. Sometimes it was a lot better not to give creative spell casters any sort of ideas at all.

Hey, Slaying makes me horny and it's not like I'm getting any action at the school.

La la la la la la la la la I can't hear you, Xander teased.

Xander moved through the busses, Cammi and Hallie close on his heels. And Damn it. We've got us a Witch, Faith. One with pointy ears and a scaly triangle on her forehead.

Calling Andrew now, Faith said.

What I want to know is was this mess advertised on the Demonic Tourism Channel or what? Xander muttered. Last night had been just as busy. Easy prey out for the pickings, many without even the most rudimentary and unconscious hellmouthy senses. Cleveland was a bigger city, and the Hellmouth was smaller, in it's infancy and never fully active like Sunnydale's had been. The denizens of the city still knew which areas to avoid after dark, be they gang claimed territories or demon claimed territories.

The Cleveland Rocks Storm Benefit was drawing in all sorts from around the region, hell even around the country as big of a deal as it was. Local and regional bands were cashing in every place they could with shows for those who couldn't get in to the particular day of the big one. The next day there were bands scheduled to be playing from eight am 'til one am at the park which meant one team was going to have to be at the park and one at the Q. Especially with the nutjob protesters wandering around with their Hell will come if you restore Cleveland crusade and just regular archaic nutso of music is Satan's tool. And for some reason that flake from Kansas with his cult-family were there protesting as well. They'd decided to stay after hitting a couple funerals on Monday evidently and had spent the week being a boil on the ass of humanity around Cleveland.

Shuttle busses were starting to line up for the various hotels and campgrounds. The tailgate parties in the main parking lot were still in full swing. It was a circus, a logistical nightmare of epic proportions, and they were at the Q, en masse, concentrating on everything there on the say so of a freaking cat from Wales.

The mix with the witch or part demon witch were all demons. A couple Fyarl, a Chaos Demon drooling at the witch. The others were all..Qua-something. The baby Slayers ended up calling them Kumquats when they had two dozen angry Kumquats that had shown up the year before looking for eggs stolen from their Queen. Kumquats were only as dangerous as their Queen, who was rarely a Kumquat herself because Kumquats were 99.9 percent male race, though the males could lay eggs and self-fertilize them in some freaky way that just had been too creepy to pay attention to or remember. Kumquats would also attach themselves to the one that defeated their Queen as their new Queen. They preferred female Queens—but whoever defeated their Queen, became their new Queen—regardless of gender or species. There was a small pocket of Kumquats who supposedly had a male anaconda as Queen because the anaconda had their Queen for lunch. Willow had stumbled across them when they'd been killing off villagers in the Amazon because the villagers had been hunting their Queen—who'd been eating live stock. A Kumquat couldn't survive without a Queen—so...they took what was available for a Queen. They were actually fairly smart, and left to their own devices and a good Queen, peaceful enough. It was their unflagging loyalty to their Queen that was hardwired into their very genetics that caused the trouble at times.

Kumquats, Faith.

You get a concussion there, Boy Toy?

The Qua-whatevers from South America that were after their Queen's stolen eggs last year? Those kind of Kumquats. A dozen of them.

Whee, which one of us gets to be Queen?

She's a witch. Maybe Andrew? Dozen kumquats, two Fyarl and one horny possessive Chaos Demon.

Wow, got herself a regular harem.

Ewwwww.

Faith's mental laughter rang through his head.

“I smell Slayer,” one of the human enough looking except for light violet skin, dark violet hair and stripe of dark violet scales down each arm Kumquats announced. The rest started sniffing the air.

“Shit.” Shit. Hurry, Faith. One caught Slayer scent.

Shit.

“Back to back,” Xander ordered the girls, “Stay together.”

The girls looked at him oddly. They'd both been in Cleveland too long. Both had been at the Cleveland School when Robin was still in charge. Robin was happier with his slayer and roaming India and South East Asia going after specific threats. Breaking the Slayers he'd taught from the kamikazi fight alone stupidity was a goddamned pain in the ass. There wasn't just one anymore, not learning how to fight together was stupid and dangerous.

“BACK TO BACK LIKE THE DRILLS!” He snarled at the girls and headed for the two Fyarl. Big, tough and dumb. The witch actually killed one with a side step of Xander's that was nothing short of pure luck. The second Fyarl seemed to take exception to the killing of—either it's brother or it's mate. He wasn't sure, his command of Fyarl was just enough to piss one off. The Chaos Demon and surviving Fyarl were soon engaged in a deathmatch when the Fyarl went after the demoness-witch, whatever she was.

He could feel the power gathering, it was almost as blatant as Willow out on the damned bluff. Damn just gotta love the accumulated side effects of years of demon fighting.

“No you don't!” Xander shouted. He managed to throw the knife—Faith's knife. It was a little heavier than he liked but it did the trick going through the soft tissue of the witch's throat.

The Kumquats stopped dead and as a one looked to Xander. “GIRLS LEAVE THEM ALONE!” he shouted at Hallie and Cammi. The Kumquats weren't a problem at the moment. “You don't hurt slayers got it!”

The Fyarl was dead and the Chaos Demon rushing at him when....


~

Cayla swallowed. She'd whispered to Joshua she needed to use the restroom—well, portapot but such a word would probably set off a few hours lecture on crudity.

She had two minutes, no clue if what she was doing was even possible, and she certainly didn't have anything likely needed for such a spell done right. She did have a lot of power, and her wide eyed uncle whom she grabbed and reached for his power as well.

“What did you do?” Joshua asked shakily.

“Something that will get us away, hopefully, if we're patient. And if it doesn't work, they won't know unless you tell,” Cayla whispered terrified.

“I won't.”

They staggered drained and woozy back to where the Old Bastard, as Cayla thought of her grandfather, was preaching Cleveland was going to bring the end of the world.


~


Xander felt the blast of power just as a Kumquat jumped between him and the Chaos Demon with a nasty looking scimitar drawn. The world reeled somehow black and spotted and...

Vibrating. God his whole body felt wrong and was vibrating...

His vision was wrong. Completely. Totally. Wrong. Things were just a little fuzzy on the edges and...something that made him queasy and disoriented with the oddness of it. Eyes. Two eyes. The sting of sweat and something chemical-ish ran into the eye that shouldn't be there. Music..trailing off as he stood there with a microphone in his hand.

Microphone. Stage...thousands of people. With the music trailing off so did the vibrating. That wasn't his hand. Black chipped nail polish, kinda like Spike's. Hands were too pale, too small, too soft. No small scar on his left middle knuckle. Two eyes...and what the hells was running into them. He reached and rubbed his eyes woozily, he looked at the hand that wasn't his. Smeared black—eyeliner? Mascara? Something his eyes felt...gunky. He turned and glanced at behind him weaving on his feet. The after effects of the magic seemed to be hitting him hard, or maybe this body didn't have the tolerance to screwed up mojo his own did, because he really wasn't in his own body and that was screwed up.

“You're not Gerard,” one said as he stalked up close, sweat streaked eyeliner or whatever and sweaty hair.

“Why the hells did I listen to a cat?” he asked and the world went black as he crumpled to the stage.



~


Gerard staggered backwards, he landed painfully on his ass, jarring his wrist from where his hand went behind him instinctively to catch his fall. He yelped at the head that went rolling. Not human head, something grotesque and kinda slimy with horns...

“Xan?” A teenage girl demanded worriedly.

“My Queen?”

Holy shit that dude had fucking purple skin. And purple eyes and purple hair and...a really fucking big knife. And there was a head and ..

“WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO XANDER!” the dark haired woman hauled him up from the ground and was holding him up off the ground by a fist full of the shirt he was wearing. His feet were dangling off the ground. Dangling off the ground.

“My Queen!” the purple guy—and a few of his purple friends cried out.

“Who are you?”

“Ger-ger- Gerard,” he managed. And that wasn't his voice and why did everything look so weird flat with little gage of distance like a tv screen or drawing or something but brighter and sharper somehow too and good god the smell of everything. He could smell the decapitated head which was about enough to make him hurl and four kinds of perfume and hairspray and the deodorant of the tiny woman holding him off the ground one handed was wearing.

“What did you do?” she demanded.

“I didn't do anything. I didn't I was on stage singing Mama and it felt like I was hit with...got electrocuted or something and things went all black and spotty...then I was here with a head rolling and..something and..He's purple!” Gerard babbled out panicked.

“I am Qua--” the purple guy said something utterly incomprehensible with a lot of quah's and sounds like he was trying to hock up a loogy or something.

“What?”

“He's a Kumquat demon,” she snorted. “Xander killed their old queen so now he's their queen and you're in Xander's body. Now who the hell are you and where's X?”

“Gerard Way!” he squawked.

“Damn, you're louder than Boy Toy ever was,” She muttered and set him on his feet. “You run, you're doomed. That's Xan's body. You're not taking off and getting it killed. Got it?”

Gerard nodded wide eyed and wondered if he'd passed out or something and was dreaming.

“The magic—that is not our queen?” the one purple guy frowned.

“Hopefully Xander's in his body. But no, your queen got bodyswapped. You protect that body for Xander okay? And make sure he doesn't take off so we can't get them switched back.”

Magic? And what—she, oh god, the woman that had been holding him up in the air stalked over to a body on the ground pulling a knife from the side of it's throat and wiping the blade on the shirt.

“What's the what with the witch?” the woman frowned.

“I do not understand,” the one who seemed to be the speaker of the purple dudes said.

“What was she doing here? Where did she come from and are there more we need to watch for with her?”

“Queen Lupe was going to use the power of the Hellmouth to get revenge on the man who spurned her by cursing his son with the woman he wouldn't break off the engagement too to be with Queen Lupe.”

“Okay so she's just a random nut job going all Fatal Attraction. She manage anything?”

“No, she was waiting for him to come out of the building there.” Head Purple Guy shook his head.

“You know who she was looking for?” the woman demanded

“Saporta?”

It registered finally that the demon had...a Latino accent. Actually kinda like Gabe's parents Gerard thought. “Gabe? She was after Gabe?” he gaped. What was he saying that was a dead body a real dead body and the purple guys and maybe he'd cracked his skull and was losing his mind.

“FAITH!” A kid came running up followed by four girls.

“Geek boy, Xan went and got himself body swapped, and Xan's queen of the Kumquats here. Take-- Gerard?” the last clearly a question she got his name right.

Gerard nodded.

“Take Gerard and the Kumquats back to the school. See if you can scry for Xan and whoever the hells cast this crap. Tasha, go with them. Rest of you with me. It's going to be a long night. Uhm...Geekboy, can you do something about those quick first?”

Gerard watched the fire form in the kid's hands, the corpses of the woman and the three not human things combusted into blue flame turning to ashes in just a moment or two. The stench of it—burning hair and flesh and something rancid and inhuman had him swallowing convulsively as the world went dark.


chapter three