Title: Blood for Blood 1 - Chopper
Author: otsoko
Summary: BtVS's Riley joins Graham on the mission to the jungles of Belize.
Rating: NC-17, but not so much for the sex, but for a Mayan mutilation ritual contained in 'BfB: Cenote'. Well, OK, for the slashy sex too.
Content: Riley/Graham, Graham/other. SLASH! Mayan mutilation rituals. Totemic animal fights.
Category: Blood for Blood #1
Spoilers: Season 5
Distribution: Help yourself, just let me know.
Feedback: It really helps to know someone is reading it. Criticisms welcome.
Disclaimer: Joss owns them. just playing. promise
ACK: For the beta-ing and encouragement, Mistress Ace and Wirrrn. May your storage baskets be always filled with corn, and may the Balamob, the jaguar-spirits, always protect your hearths and fields.
notes:
1. I've taken Mayan stuff about the Hero Twins, Xbalanke (shbah-lann-KAY) and Hunahpu (who-nah-POO), and blood-letting rituals and other stuff from the Popol Vuh and other Quiche Mayan stories, but I have adapted it big time for my own nefarious purposes. (X is pronounced /sh/, so xibal = shee-BALL)
2. Lots of Mayans live in Belize, btw, so I didn't send the boys to Maya-land, Joss did.
3. For the original version of Graham's dream see my rumba-based ficlet 'the third guy".
4. The sermon is an adaptation of a famous sermon by the colonial Massachusetts puritan preacher, Cotton Mather.
5. I used the standard conversions for Mayan dates.
Soundtrack. The new CD by Estopa (Spanish flamenco rumbas). Key songs: '
Él de medio de los Chichos' ("he appeared to me in a dream/ and he told me /
that in another life / I was a stray dog"),
'Exiliado en el lavabo' ("your girlfriend's left you ... I think I'm the only one still on your side."),
"Me falta el aliento" ("I feel like sperm waiting in a test tube / frozen but alive.")
and especially 'Sodomizarte' ("butt-fucking you so electrifyingly / that it even turns on my car's headlights."),
and finally 'la raja de tu falda' ("I can't remember her eyes / or even what she looks like").
Dedication: Lord Chak Reigns!
Blood For Blood 1: Chopper
by ostoko
Prologue.
Fireside. Southeastern Yucatan Peninsula (in what will some day be Belize)
Date: 8 Cloud, 2 Turtle [that is, the 19th day of the 5th month of the 11th year in the 18th 20-year 'decade' of the 9th 400-year-'century' since the fourth creation of the world.]
(9 December, 801)
The boys gathered around the fire after having wolfed down their supper of banana-leaf wrapped tamales. The corn fields had been weeded, water had been carried from the cenote, dried corn had been ground into flour after being slaked with lime, and then mixed with fat and made into the life-giving tamales or mixed with water and patted into tortillas to be cooked on the pans over the open fire. The rhythms of village life continued as they had for generations, and would for generations to come.
Soon the great celebrations would take place at the pyramid, and the king would make the sacrifice of his own blood to Chak, Lord of Rain, ensuring that the rains would return. Since rain was the blood of Lord Chak, the blood of the ruler was required if his realm was to receive the life-giving rains.
Blood for blood. It was the way of the universe.
In the meantime, life was good. The last corn harvest had been plentiful, and the new crop was growing high in the milpas. There was enough to eat for all in the village. The hunting in the jungle had been good as well. The gods were clearly pleased with the sacrifices that the villagers had made. The village elder was pleased with the village, with the villagers, with the harvest, and with the hunting. All was well.
He looked around at the boys, and grinned. "What story would you hear tonight?"
"The ball game against the Lords of Death." One boy suggested.
"No," one of the younger boys countered, "The jaguar and the coyote!"
One of the older boys looked across the fire into the eyes of another boy, and said significantly, "The story of the Hero Twins". The elder smiled as he saw the other boy look down, clearly embarrassed, but not displeased. A good story, thought the elder, and probably appropriate for something that was going on. The village elder began:
"I am going to tell you the story of Xbalanke and Hunahpu, and how they were monkeys and then became men. And how together they outwitted and defeated the blood-hungry Lords of Death, and saved the world for the real people. And how they stayed together and became as one, closer than even the closest of brothers, and thus came to be called 'the Hero Twins' ..."
The village elder winked at the older boy who had requested this story, who had the decency to blush. The village elder leaned forward, making eye contact with each of the boys in turn as he told the story, the history.
"There were two monkeys, named Xbalanke and Hunahpu, who lived happily in the tops of the forest trees, playing together and eating only the best fruits of the trees. What they did not know was that they were really children of the first ones, who had been turned into monkeys by those who were jealous of their great strength and beauty. But when the Lords of Death threatened to take all the blood of the real people, a great shaman arose who knew that only Xbalanke and Hunahpu could defeat the Lords of Death ... "
1. Chopper: Sunnydale, California
Date: 3 Snake, 8 Mak [that is, the 5th day of the 14th month of the 7th year in the 19th 20-year 'decade' of the 12th 400-year 'century' since the fourth creation of the world.]
(9 December, 2000)
I was sitting there in the chopper, watching him standing on the pad, watching for her. Knowing that if she showed up, he'd be back with her in a sec, without even a wave to us, to me. I could see it in my mind's eye: The two of them embracing tightly, lost in their own little world, as the chopper took off. Because that would have been it. No more chances to come back in, to come back home. If he missed this chopper, he'd stay in Sunnydale -- and he'd be dead before spring. I knew the signs. Dude was killing himself slowly, when he wasn't trying to kill himself fast.
Next time I'd have seen him would have been at his funeral.
He didn't have to tell me about what it was like to love somebody who didn't love you. And that it didn't matter, you'd still be willing to throw it all away for'em. Knew that one.
Knew that one real well. Because my ass was on the line over bringing Riley back in. The Colonel had made that abundantly clear . He hadn't been convinced at all. He'd taken a look at the Initiative files on Riley. And he wasn't impressed that the guy had gone renegade with the slayer and the slayerettes. Even less impressed when he saw the bruise on my face that Riley had given me when I had been sent with the two junior G-man to get him to the doc. The Colonel had him pegged as a rogue agent and a trouble-maker who didn't know what was good for him. My responsibility, the Colonel had said. He meant my ass.
I had to agree that maybe Riley didn't always know what was good for him, even if I wasn't gonna tell the Colonel that.
And OK, silence from him in the chopper, cause there was really no way of actually having a conversation in one of those. Sometimes the worst thing about being in a chopper is that you were pretty much left alone with your own thoughts.
I looked over at the boy, he was staring straight ahead. The perfect picture of stoicism. I let out a bit of a sigh. Safe, because nobody could hear me, and nobody was looking at me.
I closed my eyes. I couldn't look at him. It hurt too much.
It had been hurting since that day when I had testified on his behalf at the hearing after the battle with Adam, telling the panel of senior officers how renegade agent Riley Finn had pretty much saved the day. That had earned me a hand shake from him, a 'thanks, buddy' and a brief hug, before he headed back to Sunnydale and his slayer girlfriend.
I could still remember watching him walk off, down the corridor of the base HQ, walking out of the Service, walking out on the mission, walking out of my life. I'm not gonna lie and say that I went back to my place and cried. I'm also not gonna say that part of me didn't want to do just that. Instead, I did what I usually did when life got a little rough.
I went to one of the bars, and stood there leaning against the bar, bottle in hand, scoping out the action. It was late, and it had taken seven or eight beers before I identified my target for the evening and had begun to so what I knew how to do best: identify, track, capture, and subdue the target. And I had him identified. Standing next to the far wall of the bar. He was a pretty hot guy, tall, short blond hair, looking like he was well built in his white T-shirt and jeans, playing up the all-American boy look to the max, giving everyone else in the bar major attitude.
I kept a stone face as I checked him out. But inwardly I was smirking. Because I knew I was gonna wipe that self-satisfied smile of that guy's face before the evening was over. And he was gonna thank me for it.
I hooked one thumb in the front pocket of my jeans, pressing my hand flat against the fabric, next to the bulge, and took a swig, staring straight at him. You wanna track something, sometimes it's best to show him some bait, and let him come to you. He'd been kinda checking me out for the last half hour. I was gonna give him a chance to make it easy on himself. He took it. He met my gaze, and gave me this friendly nod. I continued to stare him down, stone faced. I watched as his eyes went down to my hand. He paused, then looked back up at my face.
He nodded. Capture imminent. I took another swig of beer. He slowly made his way over through the crowded bar. From the way he almost stumbled a couple of times, he had had a few already. Perfect. Made my job easier. He never took his eyes off of me. He came up and stood inches from me.
"Hey." He gave me a smile that I'm sure worked on most guys. "I'm Derek."
I nodded and then looked him up and down. He was no Riley, but he'd do for the next hour or so anyway. I reached over and ran my hand along his shoulder, moving towards his neck. I wrapped my hand round the back of his neck, and rubbed his throat with my thumb. I met his eyes, staring him down. He blinked first.
I gave him the look, eyes piercing, jaw set, mouth curved into just the slightest hint of a smile, and said in a low even voice, "I think you need to get the shit fucked out of you, Derek."
He eyes went wide as he swallowed hard. He nodded slowly. Capture completed. I let go of him and chugged the rest of my beer. I put the empty bottle on the bar and headed out the door, not even bothering to look at him, knowing he was gonna be right behind me.
I fucked him face down in his bed, fucked him hard, and worked real hard at not crying out 'Ri!' as I came deep inside him. I pulled out and tossed the used condom in the trash can, and started to get dressed. He rolled over and jerked off frantically watching me. I got dressed slowly enough for him to bring himself off before I left. I decided I'd give him that much. He had been a pretty good lay.
I gave him a nod, "Later, Derek," and headed out the door.
I ignored his pleas for me to come back for a minute. I wasn't in the mood for any snuggling that night. Not with him, any way.
The chopper turned. I looked over at Riley. Still eyes front. Ignoring me, ignoring the world. I resisted the urge to put a comforting hand on his knee. I had no reason to expect him to be grateful to me, not given his reaction the last time I had tried to save him.
That hadn't worked out all that well. OK, we saved his life, which I guess is what mattered. It was just that I had been carrying around this idea in my head about what was gonna happen when I showed up in Sunnydale. A Riley-Finn style grin, a hug from the boy, him asking me how I was doing. Him being grateful that I had brought the doc. Me there at his bedside when he came out of it after the operation, and grinning up at me, telling me thanks for being there and all.
I sat there in the park watching him play pick-up b-ball. Leaning back on the bench and just watching him, drinking him in, the way he moved, how he just outplayed the other guys there, dominating the court. Going up for a jump shot like he was born to it. He was just fucking beautiful.
Then he saw me. And his face went stone cold. He walked off the court, tossing the ball away, walking right past me, throwing me a dismissive "Graham." as he walked past.
Not the reunion I had been expecting. And OK, it pissed me off. I had always been there for him, not just at the hearing, but before that, on his side, backing him up when Forrest laid into him about Buffy. Man, I had worked hard at being a friend to him, if that was all he wanted from me. I hadn't done anything to deserve that kind of attitude. I went after him and laid it out, trying to keep my temper in check. He had to get to the doc. Then he lashed out, looking me straight in the eye about how he wasn't gonna let me get him naked and helpless.
Like he knew exactly what I'd been fantasizing about, dreaming about since the first time I met him when I joined the Initiative. I was shocked, and yeah, maybe a little taken aback.
I tried to cover, but maybe my anger got the better of me. Telling him he had to get to the doc, now. And that I'd drag him there if I had to.
OK, I can take care of myself. I've been in more firefights and bar fights than most guys, more than most Marines. And I've been sucker punched exactly once in my life: by Riley Finn. I gotta figure that it was because he had just accused me of trying to do something that I had been dreaming about doing. I felt busted*****
And then I had to take all that crap from Buffy, who had turned into attitude girl. She called me in, I came to try to save her boyfriend, my best friend, and he decked me out of the blue, and all she could do is threaten to kick my ass. Fucking bitch. Like I need this crap. I put up with it, because I figured I was gonna need her help to find Riley. But count me out of the Buffy fan club.
Then I found out that Buffy had actually fucking gone to hostile-17 and fucking told him about Riley and the doc, and then the stupid cunt had the gall to be *surprised* when the vampire and his hell-fiend girlfriend kidnapped the doc. Maybe somebody needed to explain to her about vampires. Maybe slayer-strength saps the blood from your brain or something. Or maybe fucking vampires changed your point of view on just who the good guys were.
Buffy had fucking told the vampires where the doc and I were, and I ended up getting the shit knocked out of me, the doc got kidnapped and almost killed, and she still managed to paint it in her warped little mind that this whole thing was somehow my fault.
Let's recap: She asked for help, so I came to save the boy's life. Her response was to threaten to kick *my* ass, and then she told a couple of vampires where me and the one person who could save Riley's life were. Impressive? Thinking not.
With friends like her, you sure as hell didn't need enemies.
OK, thank God, it worked out in the end, and he got to the doc in time. And OK, maybe I needed to cut her some slack, because maybe she was just freaked out about Riley and maybe she did care for him. But I wasn't seeing a lot of love for Riley from her, just a lot of anger and a lot of being, dunno, all getting her nose out of joint that she was having waste her precious time dealing with this. Dealing with him.
I saw the other side. It was dead clear that Riley loved her. Completely, unconditionally, all that crap. But her! Damn. I was standing there, jaw dropping, as I watched her just walk out on him, and go back to her life. Dude had almost died and she couldn't wait to bail on him. Nice, real nice.
And OK, maybe I was kinda harsh with Riley afterwards. But I could see he wasn't gonna survive here. That girl was gonna get him killed. If he didn't do it to himself first.
All the way back to the base, I was just pissed off, and getting more pissed off, thinking that, OK, if that's what he wanted, let him have it. The time had come to write him off as a lost cause. He wanted to stay with her and end up dead, it was his choice. I'd done what I could. And gotten knocked out not once, but twice, for my efforts. My masochistic tendencies weren't so developed as to want any more of that shit.
I stopped by the club at the base and tossed down a couple of stiff ones. I almost bit Bauer's head off when he snickered at the bruise on my jaw, and asked where I'd gotten it. I caught myself, apologized and bought him a drink. He accepted and didn't push it when I didn't want to talk about it. "Just a rough day, OK?"
He nodded "OK, Miller." He raised his glass and gave me a friendly smile, "To better days." I clinked glasses and downed the shot.
He looked at me, "You need some sleep, man."
I nodded.
"Come on, let's get out of here." I let him lead me out and back to quarters.
I fell into bed, and tossed and turned for a bit before falling asleep. I had the dream for the first time that night. The dream where Forrest came to my bedroom and stood at the foot of my bed and just talked to me. About Riley, about me. And I knew I couldn't let it go. Couldn't let him go.
I woke up in a cold sweat that night. As I sat in the chopper, remembering it, I felt the same cold sweat. I looked down, and recognized the terrain. We were approaching the airbase. The transport would be loaded and ready. I followed Riley out of the chopper and nodded to the plane.
"Let's get it done."
He nodded and followed me. He was back in mission mode. It was good to see that. Probably the only mode he could operate in right now, because you don't have to think a lot when you're in mission mode.
We took our seats on the transport. Seats against the side of the plane. No windows to look out of. Nothing to look at but the guys seated on the side of the plane opposite you. Strap yourself in, hear the engines crank up, feel the plane start to lumber down the runway and suddenly break free and take off and turn and head south.
South to Belize, south to Belmopan.
I look over at the guy, and he was staring straight ahead, eyes focussed sharply on some random point of the far side of the plane, jaw set, muscles working tight. I kind of figured how to close to tears the big guy was. I glanced over at the Colonel, who, as I feared, had noticed Riley's condition.
I put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a bit of a squeeze.
"Good to have you back, Riley."
There was a hesitation, then he looked over and nodded, and tried to give me a comradely smile. He failed.
"It'll be OK, man."
He nodded, because it was the right response, not because he believed it.
==============
Lord Chak Reigns!
Otsoko
http://grahamslash.tripod.com/