Title: La Belle Dame Sans Merci
Author: Salome
Rating: R (extreme sexual innuendo, language, drug use)
Genre: Humor/parody
Setting: Between seasons 4 and 5, immediately post-'Restless'
Summary: A mysterious young girl and a terrifying new threat arrive in Sunnydale one rainy night. Wackiness ensues. Yeah, it's a satire of Mary Sue fics.
Feedback: Welcome and encouraged, and I'm not going to specify 'no flames!' or 'no negative feedback!' I hate when people do that.
Distribution: 'Ask me, I won't say no, how could I?' (That's a Smiths quote, yo.)
Disclaimer: The Buffyverse and everything in it belong to Joss Whedon, who shouldn't even bother suing me because I've got no money. Also, lawsuits are bad karma.
________________________________________________________________
It was a dark and stormy night. Rain pounded down in vertical sheets, thunder crashed, and every so often, a bolt of lightning illuminated the sky so brightly that Giles, watching the storm through his living room window, would've sworn it was high noon.
*Extraordinary*, Giles thought, regarding the tempest with awe and a strange feeling of contentment. He was in a wonderful mood: with the defeat of Adam, things had finally settled down a little, and he was enjoying his first quiet evening at home in a long while. He wandered to the stereo to turn over the record he was listening to—Pink Floyd's *Animals*—and, glancing around a bit nervously, retrieved a small box from its hiding place on his bookshelf behind the really dry-looking tomes. Glancing over to make sure the front door was locked, he retired to the couch, cracked the box open, and scooped its contents up in one hand.
_______________________________________________________________
'Spike, you're a pig.'
Spike nearly jumped out of his skin. 'Bloody hell, Slayer! You could knock before you enter a guy's crypt, you know. Common courtesy and that.' He fumbled with the buttons on his remote control, trying to turn off the video of *Vampy Tramps III* that was playing on his small TV, and managing only to pause it on a very lurid image.
Buffy rolled her eyes. 'Courtesy. Right. Shut up, Spike.' Slamming the door behind her, she stomped over to where the vampire sat.
Spike gazed up at her impatiently from his easy chair.
'I need information,' Buffy continued. 'There's something new in town. Something bad. *Really* bad.' A shadowy expression passed over her face, and Spike realized that the Slayer was scared. More scared than he'd ever seen her. 'What can you tell me about it?'
Spike smirked. 'Well, I don't know, Slayer. What can you pay me?'
Buffy lunged forward, pinning Spike by the throat to the back of his chair. 'I don't have time for this, Spike. This is serious. Tell me what you know, and then maybe, if I'm satisfied, I'll pay you.'
Maybe it was what she said, maybe it was how she said it—but most likely, it was the look in Buffy's eyes that made Spike realize this was no time to play around. She looked terrified, and angry—but underneath all that, there was an expression of something unnamable, as though she had looked on the ultimate evil and lived to tell the tale. As though she had been shaken to the core, and on a fundamental level, broken. Anything that could do that to the Slayer had to profoundly bad news. Worse news than Spike wanted to hear.
'Okay, okay,' the vampire gasped. 'I don't know anything, Slayer. I was just having a bit of a laugh. I—I—Bugger! Let go!'
Buffy released him and backed up several paces. 'This is serious!' she all but screamed. 'I don't have time for your little reindeer games right now!'
Rubbing his throat, which now bore a swollen red hand mark, Spike said, 'I got that. Something's got you good and scared, hasn't it? There's a brand new big bad, am I right?'
Buffy looked down. 'It's just—I saw what it had done. It was horrible. Only a vicious beast could do something like that.' Spike suddenly became conscious that the Slayer was actually trembling.
'You utter ponce!' he crowed gleefully. 'You prancing lightweight! Oooh, not so tough now, are you? Now you're faced with something a little scarier than RoboPoofter.'
'This coming from RoboPoofter's right-hand man,' Buffy observed dryly.
'So what is this wicked nasty that's got you all aflutter?' Spike grinned wickedly.
'I don't know,' Buffy said quietly. 'I didn't find the monster. I just found...' Her voice trailed off, and it suddenly became clear to Spike that she was choking back tears. 'I just found the bodies. I went to the campus computer lab with Willow and at first I thought it was empty, and then I saw them. Two of them, just… lying there. They were dead, and covered all over in vomit, and.... Oh, God, Spike, if you could've seen the looks on their faces! That kind of fear and disgust… I've never seen anything like it.' Buffy's lip curled in anger, and her eyes became hard. 'Whatever did that… Whatever sick, evil, reprehensible creature did that, I'm going to find it. And I'm going to kill it.'
________________________________________________________________
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Giles glanced blearily towards his front door. Someone coming calling at this hour… ridiculous…
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The second, louder round of knocking jolted Giles into action. Looking back and forth frantically, he threw the small item in his hand into an empty glass, then picked it up and threw it into the Mayan cursing urn resting on his coffee table, then realized what he'd done and quickly grabbed the item and placed it back in the small engraved box he had taken it out of. 'Coming!' he called to whoever was pounding on his door. 'Just one se—"
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
'Yes, yes!' Giles shouted, racing for the door as he mumbled to himself: 'Really, no consideration… so demanding… no respect… as if I didn't need a little me time every now and then… such inconceivable rudeness, I don't—' Just then, Giles threw the door open, and his jaw dropped.
Standing on the front stoop was a girl he had never seen before. She appeared to be in her late teens, but there was something about her that seemed mature for her age. She had a beautiful face with eyes the most curious shade of… was it purple? Her hair was a fiery red, and hung down past her shoulders. She wore a diaphanous white dress, soaked through from the rain and giving ample evidence that she had a lovely figure. She looked cold, and afraid, and lost—Giles just wanted to scoop her up and save her from whatever had driven her to this state.
'H-hello,' he stammered. 'Er, can I—help you?'
The girl gazed up at him, her violet eyes filled with tears. 'I hope so,' she said softly. Her voice was like music from a cherub's harp.
It suddenly occurred to Giles that, while he stood there in shock, the poor girl was getting soaked. 'Come in, come in, please,' he said awkwardly, stepping out of the way.
The girl stepped past him, into the warm apartment. 'Thank you,' she said.
'Gladly,' Giles whispered, almost to himself. Seeing the girl survey his flat nervously, he cleared his throat. 'Can I get you something dry to wear? You'll catch your death in that soaking wet, flimsy, clinging dress.'
'Please.' The girl smiled up at him—a sad, beautiful smile. 'Mr. Giles.'
Giles blushed. 'Er… please. Call me Rupert.'
'Yes… Rupert.'
________________________________________________________________
'If I may ask,' Giles called out moments later, 'what is your name? And why have you sought my aid?'
From the other side of the bathroom door, the girl replied, 'I'm Calandria.'
'Calandria? Have you a surname?'
The door swung open, and the girl emerged, wearing Giles' bathrobe. For some reason he couldn't quite account for, he caught his breath.
'I'll tell you that… later,' Calandria said quickly. 'For now, I need your help.'
'Of course. Anything.'
Calandria bit her lip. 'There's someone after me. Something. I don't know what it is—I just know it's not human. I know it's probably inappropriate to lay my problems at your feet, but—I know that Buffy Summers is the Slayer. I know that you're her watcher. And I didn't know where else to turn. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry—'
Giles shook his head. 'Don't apologize. Don't ever apologize. You could never do anything wrong.'
________________________________________________________________
[Coming in Chapter 2: Mary Sue—er, I mean, Calandria—meets the Scoobies. Will everyone love her as much as Giles does? Of bloody course they will—that's what Mary Sues are all about! Plus, sex and graphic gooey gore!]
Author: Salome
Rating: R (extreme sexual innuendo, language, drug use)
Genre: Humor/parody
Setting: Between seasons 4 and 5, immediately post-'Restless'
Summary: A mysterious young girl and a terrifying new threat arrive in Sunnydale one rainy night. Wackiness ensues. Yeah, it's a satire of Mary Sue fics.
Feedback: Welcome and encouraged, and I'm not going to specify 'no flames!' or 'no negative feedback!' I hate when people do that.
Distribution: 'Ask me, I won't say no, how could I?' (That's a Smiths quote, yo.)
Disclaimer: The Buffyverse and everything in it belong to Joss Whedon, who shouldn't even bother suing me because I've got no money. Also, lawsuits are bad karma.
________________________________________________________________
It was a dark and stormy night. Rain pounded down in vertical sheets, thunder crashed, and every so often, a bolt of lightning illuminated the sky so brightly that Giles, watching the storm through his living room window, would've sworn it was high noon.
*Extraordinary*, Giles thought, regarding the tempest with awe and a strange feeling of contentment. He was in a wonderful mood: with the defeat of Adam, things had finally settled down a little, and he was enjoying his first quiet evening at home in a long while. He wandered to the stereo to turn over the record he was listening to—Pink Floyd's *Animals*—and, glancing around a bit nervously, retrieved a small box from its hiding place on his bookshelf behind the really dry-looking tomes. Glancing over to make sure the front door was locked, he retired to the couch, cracked the box open, and scooped its contents up in one hand.
_______________________________________________________________
'Spike, you're a pig.'
Spike nearly jumped out of his skin. 'Bloody hell, Slayer! You could knock before you enter a guy's crypt, you know. Common courtesy and that.' He fumbled with the buttons on his remote control, trying to turn off the video of *Vampy Tramps III* that was playing on his small TV, and managing only to pause it on a very lurid image.
Buffy rolled her eyes. 'Courtesy. Right. Shut up, Spike.' Slamming the door behind her, she stomped over to where the vampire sat.
Spike gazed up at her impatiently from his easy chair.
'I need information,' Buffy continued. 'There's something new in town. Something bad. *Really* bad.' A shadowy expression passed over her face, and Spike realized that the Slayer was scared. More scared than he'd ever seen her. 'What can you tell me about it?'
Spike smirked. 'Well, I don't know, Slayer. What can you pay me?'
Buffy lunged forward, pinning Spike by the throat to the back of his chair. 'I don't have time for this, Spike. This is serious. Tell me what you know, and then maybe, if I'm satisfied, I'll pay you.'
Maybe it was what she said, maybe it was how she said it—but most likely, it was the look in Buffy's eyes that made Spike realize this was no time to play around. She looked terrified, and angry—but underneath all that, there was an expression of something unnamable, as though she had looked on the ultimate evil and lived to tell the tale. As though she had been shaken to the core, and on a fundamental level, broken. Anything that could do that to the Slayer had to profoundly bad news. Worse news than Spike wanted to hear.
'Okay, okay,' the vampire gasped. 'I don't know anything, Slayer. I was just having a bit of a laugh. I—I—Bugger! Let go!'
Buffy released him and backed up several paces. 'This is serious!' she all but screamed. 'I don't have time for your little reindeer games right now!'
Rubbing his throat, which now bore a swollen red hand mark, Spike said, 'I got that. Something's got you good and scared, hasn't it? There's a brand new big bad, am I right?'
Buffy looked down. 'It's just—I saw what it had done. It was horrible. Only a vicious beast could do something like that.' Spike suddenly became conscious that the Slayer was actually trembling.
'You utter ponce!' he crowed gleefully. 'You prancing lightweight! Oooh, not so tough now, are you? Now you're faced with something a little scarier than RoboPoofter.'
'This coming from RoboPoofter's right-hand man,' Buffy observed dryly.
'So what is this wicked nasty that's got you all aflutter?' Spike grinned wickedly.
'I don't know,' Buffy said quietly. 'I didn't find the monster. I just found...' Her voice trailed off, and it suddenly became clear to Spike that she was choking back tears. 'I just found the bodies. I went to the campus computer lab with Willow and at first I thought it was empty, and then I saw them. Two of them, just… lying there. They were dead, and covered all over in vomit, and.... Oh, God, Spike, if you could've seen the looks on their faces! That kind of fear and disgust… I've never seen anything like it.' Buffy's lip curled in anger, and her eyes became hard. 'Whatever did that… Whatever sick, evil, reprehensible creature did that, I'm going to find it. And I'm going to kill it.'
________________________________________________________________
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Giles glanced blearily towards his front door. Someone coming calling at this hour… ridiculous…
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The second, louder round of knocking jolted Giles into action. Looking back and forth frantically, he threw the small item in his hand into an empty glass, then picked it up and threw it into the Mayan cursing urn resting on his coffee table, then realized what he'd done and quickly grabbed the item and placed it back in the small engraved box he had taken it out of. 'Coming!' he called to whoever was pounding on his door. 'Just one se—"
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
'Yes, yes!' Giles shouted, racing for the door as he mumbled to himself: 'Really, no consideration… so demanding… no respect… as if I didn't need a little me time every now and then… such inconceivable rudeness, I don't—' Just then, Giles threw the door open, and his jaw dropped.
Standing on the front stoop was a girl he had never seen before. She appeared to be in her late teens, but there was something about her that seemed mature for her age. She had a beautiful face with eyes the most curious shade of… was it purple? Her hair was a fiery red, and hung down past her shoulders. She wore a diaphanous white dress, soaked through from the rain and giving ample evidence that she had a lovely figure. She looked cold, and afraid, and lost—Giles just wanted to scoop her up and save her from whatever had driven her to this state.
'H-hello,' he stammered. 'Er, can I—help you?'
The girl gazed up at him, her violet eyes filled with tears. 'I hope so,' she said softly. Her voice was like music from a cherub's harp.
It suddenly occurred to Giles that, while he stood there in shock, the poor girl was getting soaked. 'Come in, come in, please,' he said awkwardly, stepping out of the way.
The girl stepped past him, into the warm apartment. 'Thank you,' she said.
'Gladly,' Giles whispered, almost to himself. Seeing the girl survey his flat nervously, he cleared his throat. 'Can I get you something dry to wear? You'll catch your death in that soaking wet, flimsy, clinging dress.'
'Please.' The girl smiled up at him—a sad, beautiful smile. 'Mr. Giles.'
Giles blushed. 'Er… please. Call me Rupert.'
'Yes… Rupert.'
________________________________________________________________
'If I may ask,' Giles called out moments later, 'what is your name? And why have you sought my aid?'
From the other side of the bathroom door, the girl replied, 'I'm Calandria.'
'Calandria? Have you a surname?'
The door swung open, and the girl emerged, wearing Giles' bathrobe. For some reason he couldn't quite account for, he caught his breath.
'I'll tell you that… later,' Calandria said quickly. 'For now, I need your help.'
'Of course. Anything.'
Calandria bit her lip. 'There's someone after me. Something. I don't know what it is—I just know it's not human. I know it's probably inappropriate to lay my problems at your feet, but—I know that Buffy Summers is the Slayer. I know that you're her watcher. And I didn't know where else to turn. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry—'
Giles shook his head. 'Don't apologize. Don't ever apologize. You could never do anything wrong.'
________________________________________________________________
[Coming in Chapter 2: Mary Sue—er, I mean, Calandria—meets the Scoobies. Will everyone love her as much as Giles does? Of bloody course they will—that's what Mary Sues are all about! Plus, sex and graphic gooey gore!]