REPOST: Trial of the Century [A Hank Summers Joint] Chap 1 of 6.
Lawrence Payne
Author: Lawrence Payne
Rating: PG
Timeline: Season 7. Post Chosen [7x22]
Cast: Hank, Joyce, Buffy, & Dawn Summers, Lilah Morgan, guest
appearance by Drusilla, and various new characters.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. A whole slew of other people own the core
characters and the main concept. The new ones are mine.
Comments: Constructive feedback is always appreciated. :)
FYI: [[ ]] is used to indicate internal thought, words said out
loud use regular " ".
Summary: Hank Summers stands trial for his life.
Author Notes: This was a long time coming, but this story is finally
finished. Special thanks goes to Dee for her tremendous help and nothing
but love to the woman who gave me the idea, my beautiful and intelligent
friend Kelly.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1: THE ATTACK
9:23 pm PCT. San Diego, California. The business district.
Hank Summers walked through the large glass double doors of the Metropolitan
Towers building and proceeded down 8th Street. A crescent moon and two rows
of colonial-style streetlamps illuminated the street. The cold night air
blew against his custom-fitted, designer overcoat as he headed toward the
downtown parking deck, and eventually, his car. He stopped at the corner of
8th and Logan and waited for the traffic light to change. He wondered why
he bothered. The street was empty. No cars, no people, no signs of life
whatsoever. That was not unusual. All of the finance firms and
trade-houses shut down at 6. After 7 PM, the financial district became a
ghost town.
While he waited for the light to change, he searched the pockets of his
coat. He was searching for something he knew he was not going to find. His
cigarettes. He knew he threw them out two days ago, the day he decided to
quit smoking, but he looked anyway.
[[Damn idiots in Marketing,]] Hank thought to himself. [[The numbers for
last quarter clearly show a decline in U.S. sales but they spend 2 hours
pointing fingers at us. This is the third time this week I won't get home
until after 10.]] He set his briefcase on the ground and leaned against a
telephone pole while he waited for the light to change. [[This is what Joyce
and I use to fight about all the time, me working too much.]] Hank
remembered the seeming endless hours of yelling and arguing with his
deceased ex-wife. [[My work, her work, the girls' education, the mortgage;
that woman could start a fight about anything. It got to the point where we
couldn't say two words to each other without yelling.]] As Hank reflected
on those days, he discovered, oddly enough, that he actually missed them.
[[Hey! It's better than coming home to an empty house,]] he reflected.
[[Tiff is probably at work already; Mike is still in Honk Kong; and
Charlie's closes at 9. So it looks like I dine alone tonight. Again.]] The
thought of spending another night eating microwave lasagna on the couch
alone sent a wave of depression through his body. Hank renewed his search
for the pack of cigarettes he knew he would not find. "Man!" he said out
loud, "I picked a hell of a day to quit smoking."
The light changed. Hank picked up his briefcase and continued down 8th
Street. He glanced up at the digital CitiCorp Bank sign on the opposite
side of the road. The date on the rotating display made him smile. Today
was Buffy's birthday. His mind flashed back to her fifth birthday party
fifteen years ago.
It was a great party. He and Joyce rented a pony for the kids to ride. It
was the first time he sprang for a custom-made cake. A 3-foot by 21/2-foot
chocolate marble cake shaped like a number 5, with only one candle in the
center. He used only one candle so it would be easy for her to blow out.
It was her 'So All Your Wishes Are Sure To Come True' candle.
It was also the year Hank got his daughter the perfect present, a sparkling
*princess* tiara with rhinestones and glass beads. Buffy saw it in the
window of a bridal shop a week earlier, and of course, she had to have it
right then and there. Luckily, Joyce was able to distract her by cooing
over some dress in the window of another shop. Hank snuck away and bought
it when the girls were trying on clothes in the changing room. [[That was
quite a sight,]] Hank recalled. [[Buffy looked so beautiful riding that
pony with her little tiara on. My perfect little princess!]]
It was more than just a perfect party; it was a perfect time in Hank's life.
Buffy was starting kindergarten, his marriage was going great, and his
promotion to management had just been confirmed. Joyce studied Art History
at home while he concentrated on his career. [[We were even thinking about
having another baby. A year later, we had Dawn. Oohh! Those were the days!]]
Hank reminisced. [[A loving wife, two beautiful little girls, and a great
new job.]] Hank made a conscious effort to avoid thinking about how it all
went wrong. Instead, he focused on the happy memories. [[Where DOES the
time go?]]
Hank's reminiscing sparked a more recent memory. [[Time?]] he recalled.
The thought stopped him in his tracks. [[TIME!... DAMN IT! I was suppose to
FedEx Buffy's present yesterday after work! Even if I do it now it won't get
there in time.]] He rubbed his temple with his right hand. [[Arrgghh! How
the hell did I forget that?]] His mind wandered back to yesterday. [[The
board meeting with the Motorola execs, the conference with the bank, the
luncheon.... Clare? CLARE!!]] he suddenly remembered. [[I told Clare to
handle the shipping. She sent it on time. I know she did.]] Clare was Hank's
very reliable, and very plain, secretary. [[Good old Clare! What would I do
without her?]]
Hank resumed his walk to his car. Just then, he was startled out of his
stupor by the sound of a distant voice.
"Lost him," a feminine voice said. It came from out of nowhere. The voice
was soft, little more than a whisper, and almost ethereal.
"Hello," he called out. "Anyone there?" Hank did a 360-degree search. No
one was in sight. The street was well lit with few shadows. He would have
seen anyone in the area.
"Lost my Spike, I have." The voice was a little stronger this time, but
Hank was still barely able to make it out.
[[There it is again!]] Hank wondered as he searched the empty street a
second time, [[That is definitely a woman's voice. But where is it coming
from?]]
"Not lost. Stolen."
Hank realized that the mysterious voice was close. Very close. Only a few
feet away. In fact, it was right behind him. Hank did a quick 180. He
found himself face to face with a woman wearing a long black trench coat and
black boots. "What?"
"Have you ever lost something? Something you cared for?" the mysterious
woman asked, "I did. I lost my one true love."
"Really?" Hank asked, after he gave the mysterious lady a once over. He
liked what he saw. He guessed from her accent that she was English. She
was about 5' 5", maybe 5' 8" with pale skin, beautiful blue eyes, and
jet-black hair that came down just pass her shoulders. She had a nice body
too. Her slim figure was evident even with the long coat. [[Tall, but not
too tall. A dancer. Maybe a model,]] he speculated. [[Just my type.]] Hank
was in full pickup mode now. He flashed his guest a charming smile. He did
a subconscious fix of his hair with his right hand and sucked in his stomach
a little. [[Tonight might not be so lonely after all.]]
"Our love was eternal," the mystery woman stated. "Before SHE came. Came
and stole my Spike. Plucked his heart like a pretty little rose. My
precious flower. My Spike. Gone. But roses have thorns they do. Ugly,
nasty, prickly, little thorns. Thorns that hurt, and scratch, and claw at
your skin. Makes you bleed, love does. Bleed and hurt. Hurts in your
heart."
"Look, maybe we could talk about this over a drink. There's a bar about a
block from here. Not too noisy, not too crowded, nice atmosphere, - you'll
like it."
"What a sweet thing you are," she purred. She curled up next to him like a
cat. She flashed a wicked smile as she began to rub his chest with her
right hand and encircled his waist with her left. "You'll be a yummy
treat."
[[This chick maybe a little crazy,]] Hank thought. [[But with a body like
that, she is GUARANTEED to be a wild ride.]]
"You know, you still haven't told me your name," Hank said as he put his arm
around her waist.
That was the moment Hank noticed the two men behind him. Before he could
turn to face them, both men grabbed him by the arms and lifted him off the
ground. "Hey!" he protested, but the men didn't say a word. He fought to
free himself, but they were much stronger than him. They carried Hank into a
narrow, and surprisingly clean, alley between the buildings with the mystery
woman in tow.
Hank did not get a good look at the men when they grabbed him, but there was
a large outdoor safety light in the alley. Both guys were big. They were
at least 6 feet tall, with well-defined muscles and strong forearms. Both
of the men wore long black coats like the mystery woman's. The one on his
right had a gray muscle shirt on underneath his coat while the one on the
left wore a blue dress shirt.
Hank saw their faces for the first time. He wished he had not. Something
was ...wrong... with both of their faces. Both men had ugly dark bumps all
over their cheeks and foreheads, small yellow eyes, and fanged teeth. Hank
was officially scared now.
"I smell fear," the mystery woman said in an ominous tone. Hank returned
his attention to her. "It's sweet... like little cherries." She slowly
untied the knot in his tie. "The Slayer is going to pay," she said while
she removed his tie. Once she pulled the tie off his neck, she ripped the
collar of his shirt apart with one quick pull. "Pay for leaving me all
alone." Hank's neck was fully exposed now. The mystery woman traced her
index finger along his jugular line. "She took my Mummy and Daddy, and now
my Spike. It's only fair I take hers."
"Look!" Hank pleaded. "My wallet is in my back pocket. I don't have much
cash on me but you can have my credit cards. I'll give you the PINs to all
of them. OK lady?! Just let me go! Please!!"
"Drusilla."
"What!?"
"My name is Drusilla," she stated.
"Please, Drusilla. Just take my wallet. I won't tell a soul."
"You're right love," Drusilla stated coldly. Hank watched in horror as her
face changed from the soft, narrow features she had a second ago, into a
gruesome demonic visage of yellow eyes, bumps, and razor sharp teeth that
matched her two goons. "You won't tell a soul."
Drusilla grabbed Hank by his hair and pulled him toward her with inhuman
strength, forcing his head into his shoulder and exposing his neck even
further.
"This is for the Slayer," she whispered in his ear just before she bit deep
into his neck. Hank let out a pain-filled scream as her teeth ripped into
his flesh. He tried to fight back, but it was no use. Her grip was like an
iron vice. Drusilla's slender frame hid a deceptively strong body.
Time seemed to stop as Drusilla began to suck the blood from Hank's body.
Hank felt his life being slowly drained out of him. His body got weaker and
weaker with every passing millisecond. His eyes started to glaze over and
his vision became blurry.
[[This is it!]] Hank feared, [[My God, this is really it! I'm gonna die!
I'm really gonna die!! This is crazy! I can't die now! Not here!! Not now!!
I Don't Want To Die!! PLEASE GOD DON'T LET ME DIE!!!]]
Just as Hank was about pass out, he heard a new female voice yell something.
He could not make it out, his own screams masked the sound, but he did hear
enough of it to know that it sounded familiar somehow. Whoever she was, she
saved what little life Hank had left. Drusilla stopped draining him and
turned to face the new arrival. The two goons released his arms. Hank was
dropped face first onto the pavement.
Hank's eyes were not working too well, but his ears were. As he lay on the
ground with his face to the concrete, he heard what sounded like an intense
fistfight going on in the alley. After a few minutes of fighting, he heard
two loud screaming noises --one right after the other. The clean alley
suddenly became dirty as a strong smell of dust filled the air. Hank was
able to fight the pain and grogginess just enough to lift his head. Through
blurry eyes he saw his potential killer fighting with a petite blonde woman.
"Buff... yyy...?" was all Hank was able to utter before darkness overtook
him.
-------------------------------------------
"All Rise."
"All Rise," the voice boomed. It was a little louder this time then the
first.
"ALL RISE!!" the unknown voice commanded in an angry shout. Hank lifted his
head with surprising ease. All the pain and weakness he felt just seconds
ago were gone, replaced by a feeling of perfect health. For the second time
today, Hank found himself searching for the origin of yet another mysterious
voice. He discovered that he was still in the alley where he was attacked,
but everyone was gone; the alley was deserted.
"Get up," a different male voice to Hank's left said.
"What?"
"You have to get up," the man said. Whoever he was, he was now standing
next to Hank. "Or you risk a summary judgment against you."
"Judgment?"
"Yes. Judgment. If you don't stand up and face them right now, the Tribunal
will hand down a summary ruling against you and you will die."
"DIE?!"
The unknown man looked skyward and said to no one, "Why do I always have to
say everything twice?" He turned back to Hank, "Yes. Die. Now get off the
ground."
Hank Summers flopped his head on the pavement as he let out a long exhale.
"I picked a hell of a day to quit smoking."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
End Chapter 1