BEYOND WORDS
Part 1- Things That Go Bump In the Night
Joan sank sullenly onto her bed and stifled her tears. Stupid men. Stupid me, she lamented, guiltily glad that she had finally convinced her roommate and best friend Hazel that she could leave and finish her research report in the library. Joan didn t need to be consoled; she just wanted to be alone.
It was all Parker's fault really, she knew that, and yet she still couldn t help feeling a little rejected. He was the one who seduced her, lured her in with fake vulnerability and affected charm, making her think he wanted her to be his own and only, and she was for the , the harsh light of day revealed him to be a big faker. A big dumb faker with big dumb smoldering eyes. She wanted to poke those eyes out with a 2b pencil next time she saw him, or make some scheme to embarrass him in front of all the entire student body, or just give him a really good slap. But she did none of those things...
Instead she did what she always did when she wanted to escape; she took out her notebook out from under her pillow, and wrote.
Buffy was shocked. First he had neglected to call her or even *talk* to her since they d made love, and that was days ago!
She had gone looking for him to try and work things out between them and now here he was chatting up some blonde floozy as if Buffy had never existed. After all, what good was slaying if she couldn t keep a steady boyfriend.
"Oh y'know it hit me hard, my dad. Since then I just don t put stuff off anymore. It s about living for now", he drawled,practically salivating over the young coed.
*If only he was a demon so I could have an excuse to slay him*, Buffy thought.
Instead she just managed a surprised, "Parker?"
Joan had second thoughts about using his real name in one of her stories but dismissed them. The jerk so didn't deserve a pseudonym.
He looked faintly annoyed by her presence as turned and greeted her, "Buffy. Buffy Summers. (Who did he think he was? Principle Snyder?) This is Katie Loomis."
"What's going on?", Buffy asked, not entirely sure she wanted the answer.
"Hey Katie, you re gonna be late for class. I ll catch up later, okay?" he said, the picture of innocence.
"She a friend of yours?" Buffy asked incredulously.
"Yeah, you'd like her a bunch. (Eww, you wish!) So, what's up?"
"Well, um you didn't call. I'd, uh I understand if you were busy or sick or something." working your way through the Summersville College female population I wouldn t understand, she added silently.
"It's only been a few days. You need to talk to me about something?"
"Is everything okay?"
"Sure it is."
"It is?" Buffy fidgeted uncertainly. Perhaps he really had just been busy and her anger was misplaced?
"Sure." Parker said, smiling that all-American boy smile.
"Oh, um, so maybe do you wanna do something?" she asked
"Sure, we could do that absolutely."
"So what about tonight?"
"Oh... Uh... I think I'm supposed to get together with some people later ..." he said dismissively.
"Parker did I do something wrong?" Buffy asked. She couldn t shake off the feeling that a pattern was forming; as soon as a guy got her into bed, he changed. It made her think it was almost her fault, that she was responsible for changing them.
"Something wrong? No, of course not. It was fun didn't you have fun? Watch out how you answer that. My ego is fragile."
Buffy could feel the rage bubbling up inside her again, heat rising in her cheeks. "You had fun? Was that all it was to you?!"
She d show just how much 'fun' she could be!
Before he could open his mouth to reply, Buffy summoned all her strength and delivered a bone crunching roundhouse kick to Parker's chest sending him flying over a park bench, ricocheting off the side of cafeteria before landing with a thud at the feet of the college team quarterback--
Joan?
"What? Who? What?" Joan glanced up to see Hazel standing at the foot of her bed, next to a Trish, a pretty brunette whose room was across the hall from theirs. Hazel s red hair bobbed as she plopped a box of Chinese food down on the bed in front of her.
"I got your favourite!" she said perkily, Trish just stood quietly in the background. "C'mon Jo, I know what will cheer you up," she picked up the notebook beside Joan, "How about a little slayage? Trish heard about our Buffy books we ve been writing and wanted to join in. Hope you don t mind." She said grinning widely, coming up with new hijinks to get our fictional band of Scoobies into always excited her, especially if she could work some magic into the story.
"I heard about what happened with that Parker boy, I m so sorry." Trish said, placing a sympathetic hand on Joan's shoulder. "All men are disgusting misogynistic pigs." Joan started to laugh but was quieted by the deadly serious look in the other girl s eyes, and just gave a solemn nod instead.
"So what were you up to? I mean, besides wallowing. Not that you aren t allowed to wallow, you have full wallow-privileges." Hazel babbled, picking up a pen to work on the story.
"Well, I was trying to decide whether Buffy would punish Parker by beating him up or by getting Willow to cast a hex on him?"
"Oh no," Hazel replied, "Buffy's way too classy to do that."
LATER
The three girls were huddled around the open notebook, blankets and pillows and remnants of Bok Choy strewn haphazardly across the floor. They had eventually decided that instead of beating Parker up, or giving him boils, Buffy would simply need a new love interest (Trish had conceded that while men were still worthless animals , Buffy dating someone new would make Parker suffer). Of course if Joan had to pick someone for Buffy to fall in love with it would be Spike, the sarcastic and funny yet deep and poetic gorgeous punk vampire, who unlike all the other characters, except maybe Buffy, was completely hers, 100% her own imagination, her own perfectly imperfect man.
Of course her friends had said no, he'd left in the middle of book three and even though Hazel agreed that Buffy and Spike were fated for each other, it would ruin the dramatic tension if they got together happily at this stage of the series. Even so, they decided to write him back into the story any way; his return to Sunnydale with some idiot girlfriend, his being captured by an underground military group which performed scientific experiments on him, planting a Behavioural Modification chip in his head (Hazel said it was possible with today s computers), before he eventually escaped and rushed to the slayer for information or... refuge.
And that's where they left him when Trish and Hazel said that they were going to be late for their 'Wicca Woman-Power' sleepover and apologetically headed for the door. "I'm really sorry for how Pigheaded Parker behaved, Joan." Hazel said, "You re beautiful and sensual and strong and he s missing out."
"Are you coming on to me?" Joan smirked, "was making Willow bisexual a way of you trying to tell me something?"
Hazel just laughed awkwardly. "No!" she flustered, "I-I just thought that more social minorities should be represented in the story!" This was the same speech she always gave when talking about Willow, her alter-ego; a Red-headed, Wicca bisexual Jew. She was merely making sure social minorities were represented. Right
"Hey, Hazel?"
"Yeah?" she said, grabbing her coat .
"How can you be Jewish and a Wicca? They re like two totally different religions." Joan asked.
"I kinda think of it like having a dual citizenship." She replied with a smile, glad for the change in subject. She d been recently dumped by her high school boyfriend and had been going through a lot of confusing stuff since.
"Y'know you should give Buffy a nice normal human boyfriend." She suggested as she headed for the door.
"Urggh. Human boys. Who can be bothered?" Joan sighed flopping onto her bed. Who cares about humans when dreamy vampires are around, She mused.
"You re absolutely right. Human boys are scum!" Pipped Trish who had been oddly quiet throughout our interlude.
"Yeah. I wish that the Buffyverse was real though, don t you?" Hazel said, her hand resting on the door knob.
"Yeah, I do." Joan agreed, "I wish Spike was here, at Summersville U." she laughed, but at that moment, a big part of her was hoping that by some magic her wish could come true. Hazel nodded dreamily and Trish's eyes lit up and she broke into an uncharacteristically sly smile...
Spike stumbled as fast as he could through the horribly sunny streets of Sunnydale; almost tripping over the cast-off blanket he had swaddled himself in, as he turned into an alleyway, searching for shade. He was starving, he was burning and most of all he was humiliated. The bloody commandoes carted him off to their naff underground lab and he manages to work his way out only to find they'd made him harmless. HARMLESS!
If he ever survived this ordeal Spike thought he'd probably be so shamed he'd have to go and kill himself with something pink, possibly involving frills.
The Slayer is going to pay for this!!, He thought, as he huddled in the shadows near her nancy-
pancy watcher boy s apartment. Gives Englishmen a bad name, with all that tea-drinkin and glasses-wipin'.
Spike was so hungry, he hadn't eaten for days.
He couldn't; thanks to the army wankers. He knew that if he faced the Slayer Posse now he would try to attack them out of sheer starvation, and he couldn t do that either, not just because he knew he would be unsuccessful but because he needed what information or... refuge he could get from them. His minions would kill him if they ever found out about his weakened state.
Goddam minions. Don t make em like they used to.
He reached into the pocket of his duster and pulled out his lighter and a worse-for-wear packet of cigarettes. He knew that if he had a smoke, it would block out his hunger enough so that he could get what he needed from the Slayer without being turned into Mr. Big-pile-o-dust.
He went to light the cigarette, but then the strangest thing happened; his lighter began to glow red, and before he knew it he was covered with seemingly painless blue flame.
"Bollocks!" he exclaimed, and dropped the lighter before he was sent hurtling into nothingness.
Joan lay curled up on her bed asleep where Hazel and Trish had left her hours before; her head filled with images of a sculpted, angular face, piercing beautiful blue eyes and peroxide blonde hair...
She sighed contently in her sleep before a deafening CRASH jolted her into wakefulness.
The door to her closet had burst open, sending clothes and coat hangers everywhere before a figure landed face first with a painful sounding thud next to her bed.
"Ow. Bloody hell!" the obviously male, English figure grunted as he pulled himself up onto his elbows slowly, still concealed by clothes and darkness. "Ow!" he added again for good measure.
Joan was stunned for a moment.
Strange man. In my bed room. In my wardrobe! Not good!
Joan screamed with all her might and only then, did he seem to notice her presence in the room.
"You!" the concealed stranger shouted as he turned to her, throwing himself towards her bed. Joan tried to escape but he was too fast and before she could even move, he pinned her arms to the bed, lunging towards her...
"Oww!!" he exclaimed, suddenly recoiling from her, "SLAYER!! What have you done to me?!"
TBC