Fiction Holiday Hunt

Title: Holiday Hunt

Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)

Rating: PG-13, for mild language and mild sexual suggestion

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy or Van Helsing. They belong to their respective owners and creators.

Setting: Post Season 7 Buffy. Post the Van Helsing movie.

Summary: Two demon hunters celebrate Christmas in their own way.

A/N: For the TtH Fic-for-all. Pairing # 538 Buffy/ Van Helsing.

A/N 2: I haven’t seen the movie, but I just couldn’t resist this one.

"Stupid Vampire," Buffy grunted as she tumbled to the ground. It was a rare day nowadays that the Vamps could knock her down. But it still occasionally happened. She was about to clamber back to her feet, a pun ready on her lips as she would rally with a deathblow to the living dead, but before she could, a civilian appeared on the scene.

Or at least Buffy assumed it was a civilian. He was dressed really strangely… and really rattily. His long duster was covered in assorted grime and his funny hat was smooshed flat in areas. But the man beneath the clothes was handsome, in a rugged, grizzly Adams sort of way. He spared her a brief glance, careful to keep the Vamp in the corner of his eye.

"It’ll be okay Miss," he declared. Which really was enough to make Buffy wonder. The clothes, the assurance, the stake in his hand, the crossbow strapped to his back. Maybe he wasn’t a civilian after all. Buffy quickly rose, dusting off the seat of her red leather pants. It was the season after all.

"Of course it will," she grumbled, retrieving her own stake from the sleeve where she’d stuffed it earlier. "As soon as I stake this creep."

The newcomer flicked his stake back and forth in his hand, which made the Vampire eye it nervously. The Vamp’s gaze then shifted back and forth between the two stakes and their wielders. Prudency urged him to hightail it out of there. He’d been around long enough to hear about the Vampire Slayer, or Slayers as it were now. But the guy was something altogether new. But the moment the Vamp began to shift away, the duo spun and advanced almost in unison. His arms were grabbed and the Vampire was quickly immobilized.

"Hey!" Buffy protested. "This is my Vamp, get your own!"

"I don’t think so little lady," the man chuckled. "You’re smart to carry a stake, but do you really know how to handle it?"

Buffy cocked her head to the side and smiled as a dangerous light gleamed in her eye. "Let him loose and watch me go," she fairly purred. But the man still didn’t release the Vamp, who, having gone from being the hunter to the hunted, was beginning to tremble. He held up a finger, still glancing back and forth at them. Their grips hadn’t slackened at all.

"If I might make a suggestion?" the Vamp broke in nervously. He didn’t really believe that they’d let him loose, but he had to try.

"No!" They both exclaimed, not even sparing him a glare.

"Back off," Buffy warned, taking a half step closer. "He’s mine!"

"No," the stranger shook his head. "He’s mine!"

The bickering went on for just a few minutes until Buffy put an end to it by roughly thrusting her stake into the Vamp’s chest on her last ‘mine’. The man simply glanced down at the dust settling on his hand, and then gave it a quick shake. Buffy took the opportunity to slide the stake into the waistband of the back of her pants.

"So who are you?" she demanded. "And what are you? You don’t give off a demony vibe. But you’re obviously in the know."

"You might say that," the older man shrugged, and then held out his hand. The previously dusty one. "Van Helsing at your service." Buffy glanced at the proffered hand with a speculative arch of her eyebrows. Van Helsing looked down and slowly dropped his hand back to his side. Just his name didn’t seem to be enough. "I’m a demon hunter," he supplied in a low voice. Understanding dawned at once.

"Ah," she muttered. There were the odd rogue hunters like this. Although Van Helsing didn’t seem the type to have been a Council of Watcher member gone rogue like Wesley had been after he’d been fired. "Buffy Summers," she provided, gesturing to herself. She was pleased to see that there was slight recognition in his eyes.

"The Slayer?" he demanded, looking her over, up and down.

"One of many. You’ve heard of me?" she smirked. Van Helsing grinned broadly as he finally slipped his stake into a holster at his hip.

"Your name has only been on the lips of every demon between New York and Ohio,’ he quipped. "Albeit a little more frequently the closer I got to Cleveland."

"Makes sense," Buffy sighed. "It’s the Hellmouth. You’re gonna find more demons here than elsewhere." Van Helsing nodded.

"So I wonder," he drawled, stroking at his chin thoughtfully. "Are you as good as they fear?"

"Well, I suppose I could say better," Buffy teased slightly. "But I’d rather prove it."

"And how would you go about doing that?" he demanded. "Seems to me that there aren’t many Vamps and demons out and about tonight. Even with all the holiday shoppers out and about."

"Have you heard about this one demon?" Buffy began, pleased to see the suddenly predatory glint in the older man’s eyes. "He looks human, wears a lot of white fur trimmed red velvet. Falls down chimneys so he can eat children for a living."

Van Helsing’s eyebrows furrowed as he followed the mental path she was leading him down. "Santa Claus? Really?" Buffy nodded benignly. The grin that spread across his face matched her own.

"So you up for a little scavenger demon hunt?" Buffy chuckled. Van Helsing looked eager, very eager.

"Never been to the North pole," he shrugged. "Its as good as reason as any."

"So?" Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "What do I win when I slay Santa?"

"When I win," Van Helsing stressed as he took a slight step nearer, "I think I’ll want a kiss under the mistletoe."

"And when I win," Buffy retorted, her voice deeper than normal as something other than slaying played at her mind, "I’m gonna want a whole lot more than that."

Van Helsing’s voice deepened as well as his whole body went tight. "You’re on." Buffy nodded once and then smiled mischievously.

"Last one to the North Pole is a rotten corpse," she said. "3, 2, 1, go!" And before the last word had barely left her mouth, she was off running.

Van Helsing was stunned for only a second, but as he readjusted his crossbow and took off after her, he grinned again. It had been a good long while since he’d played like this. And damn but he was looking forward to this game.