The Lonely Moon
By Kalika-Chan
Rating: R
Feedback: Pwease???
Race One- Mission
The mirror reflection stared back at her. It viewed her perfectly. She looked the same, the face, the eyes, and the body. In so many ways it was the same, but in so many ways it was different. Except for the clothing. Instead of her usual comfortable slaying outfit, Buffy was sporting a delicate red dress, a fashionable gown with lace around the cuff of her sleeves and a low neckline that was pushing tightly against her breasts.
So that the tops of them peeked out.
It was from the 19th century.
Buffy twirled around, turning this way and that, admiring her new look. She smiled. She still had it. Buffy was secretly pleased with herself. A feeling she could hardly describe rose within her. Excitement. It wasn't that kind of excitement like in going to Disneyland or with Spike. A different kind. It was like the summer rose blossoming, or the new sunrise hiding behind the hills. Buffy didn't know what to make of it. It was just simply, awesome.
Turning back to the mirror, she hardly recognized the girl she saw. Young and beautiful still but barely any makeup. Her hair was still blond, but it was piled up on her head in soft, fluffy curls. No man would be able to resist her. A puzzled expression was plastered on her lovely features.
Buffy had no idea where she was. Oh shit.
The whole place was unfamiliar, the mirror, her clothes, the hall…Her mind was trying to register what was happening to her. She was suddenly aware of the classical music behind her ears. Very beautiful, perhaps a waltz, though she knew nothing of these dances. Buffy wasn't one of those nerds who liked classical music, the species that laughed to loud, told lame jokes and never went out. She didn't want to be and she didn't care. Buffy had been quite the opposite. She was a cheerleader in LA.
But that music….
It was a ball.
Enchantment filled the hall where she stood. Buffy felt as if she was forbidden to even listen to such magical sounds. One moment she had been at home, gazing at herself in the mirror. She was thinking about Spike. Again. Her sort-of boyfriend. He was so annoying. No matter what, he was always on the slayer's mind. Buffy kept telling him to go away, but he never listened.
Now she was set in the hallway of a large ballroom with people dancing and laughing. It was absolutely stunning.
It was shocking, really, to find herself in such an awkward situation. No worries, she'd find a way to fix things. Or Willow will do it for her. Wait, Willow wasn't here. Looking around, Buffy realized she saw no familiar faces in the crowd. Oh well. How come she didn't care?
Sounds of giggles soared past her as she slowly walked toward the door.
Two doormen smiled at her as they each waved her in with an elegant gloved hand. No one wore gloves anymore. What the hell? They were also dressed in the style of the 19th century. What was this? 1880? Buffy laughed to herself as she entered the ballroom. It was even more beautiful from the inside. She wasn't sure of what to do. Buffy certainly didn't know how to curtsy, so she decided on a deep nod and a polite smile.
The slayer cleared her throat as she stepped into the ballroom. She could feel the admiration of men's gazes from all around her. Buffy's face was clearly flushed. Drawing in a shaky breath, she continued to walk on.
Women glanced in her direction and glowed with jealously. They turned their noses at her and lifted their chin, dragging their men away.
Buffy frowned. She hadn't expected to make enemies that soon. Her head went down slightly.
Oh God.
She suddenly wanted to just get away from it all. She had no desire to dance or talk or laugh. She just wanted out.
A hand gently grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. Her slayer instincts kicked in and she glared.
Only to be met by a ruggedly handsome man. He was French. Just the radiant vibes he gave off told her that. Green eyes met hers. Buffy's heart stopped. If you could even say that. Dark, black hair cut short and slightly spiked. She blinked slowly, not knowing why.
"Milady." He said as he took her hand and drew her closer. Buffy could feel his warm breath on her face.
"Uhh…" Buffy stammered for an answer.
"Care to dance?" He brought her closer yet. He lifted her hand to his lips and lightly kissed her knuckles. The spell broke
Buffy reared back.
"I-I-sorry." She was being rude, she knew, but she really didn't know how to act in this twisted world. Picking up the hem of her long skirt, she ran. Past the gentlemen who nodded at her, past the women who shook their heads, past the children eating candy, she just ran.
At last, Buffy came to a small private room. There she threw herself on a cushioned chair and caught her breath. She breathed heavily for a few minutes. What was happening? Had one of Willow's spells backfired? Was she actually traveling back in time?
A new emotion approached her, one she hadn't felt for a long time.
Fear.
Fear of not knowing where she was, fear of not knowing what to do, fear of not knowing how to get back.
Buffy's eyes widened. She didn't know any witchcraft to help her. Willow should pop in at this moment. But she didn't. And Buffy was pretty sure she was a stranger to everyone here too. She had no idea how to save herself. She just wanted to go back.
The tears were coming again. Buffy squeezed her eyes shut. They opened again when she heard voices. Grabbing the edge of the chair, she peeked around to see the one face she recognized.
Spike.
There he was, with his natural brown hair, dusty brown suit, and a woman sitting on his left. Cecily. Yeah, that was her name. She wouldn't even look at him. Her fan was in front of her, batting away uselessly.
At that moment Buffy realized where she was.
Spike's time.
Oh lovely. Everything had to revolve around Spike. Spike. Spike. Spike. Only Spike. Yup, Spike. Shut the hell up.
It was 1880, the day Drusilla came for William. The day he vamped into Spike, the demon. Maybe Buffy could save him.
She remembered him telling her about this very day. They were sitting at a round table in the corner of the Bronze. Buffy was still with Riley then. Spike had been eating Buffalo wings at the time. She was getting quite annoyed with him. She just wanted to know how he killed two slayers. He resolved to recounting his past with her.
William the Bloody was a nickname he was earned because his poetry was so bloody awful. The day he confessed his love to Cecily, he rejected him, saying he was 'beneath her'. He remembered the pain and misery. William wasn't very much liked. He had stomped out of the place angrily, ripping up the poems he had slaved over. In a dark alley he met Dru and that's where his life as a vampire started.
Buffy strained to her the conversation in front of her.
"…beneath me…" She had heard. Curses. Cecily looked away as Buffy noted the pain in Spi- William! 's face. She felt pity toward the man. Her heart broke for him. It seemed like a million years until William moved. He was kind of idiotic.
Buffy watched as he got up and walked away, muttering under his breath, crying. She had never seen him like that before. Who did Cecily think she was? Wait, was she actually defending Spike? Not wanting to miss her chance, Buffy quickly stood up and collided with him. Her nose bumped into his chest. She didn't remember being so short.
"Oh! I-I'm so sorry, ma'am. Are you alright?" He grabbed her by her upper arms and steadied her. Buffy was surprised at William's tone. Could this gentleman have actually turned into a demon? Maybe he did have a soul. He did have hope.
"Spike?"
By Kalika-Chan
Rating: R
Feedback: Pwease???
Race One- Mission
The mirror reflection stared back at her. It viewed her perfectly. She looked the same, the face, the eyes, and the body. In so many ways it was the same, but in so many ways it was different. Except for the clothing. Instead of her usual comfortable slaying outfit, Buffy was sporting a delicate red dress, a fashionable gown with lace around the cuff of her sleeves and a low neckline that was pushing tightly against her breasts.
So that the tops of them peeked out.
It was from the 19th century.
Buffy twirled around, turning this way and that, admiring her new look. She smiled. She still had it. Buffy was secretly pleased with herself. A feeling she could hardly describe rose within her. Excitement. It wasn't that kind of excitement like in going to Disneyland or with Spike. A different kind. It was like the summer rose blossoming, or the new sunrise hiding behind the hills. Buffy didn't know what to make of it. It was just simply, awesome.
Turning back to the mirror, she hardly recognized the girl she saw. Young and beautiful still but barely any makeup. Her hair was still blond, but it was piled up on her head in soft, fluffy curls. No man would be able to resist her. A puzzled expression was plastered on her lovely features.
Buffy had no idea where she was. Oh shit.
The whole place was unfamiliar, the mirror, her clothes, the hall…Her mind was trying to register what was happening to her. She was suddenly aware of the classical music behind her ears. Very beautiful, perhaps a waltz, though she knew nothing of these dances. Buffy wasn't one of those nerds who liked classical music, the species that laughed to loud, told lame jokes and never went out. She didn't want to be and she didn't care. Buffy had been quite the opposite. She was a cheerleader in LA.
But that music….
It was a ball.
Enchantment filled the hall where she stood. Buffy felt as if she was forbidden to even listen to such magical sounds. One moment she had been at home, gazing at herself in the mirror. She was thinking about Spike. Again. Her sort-of boyfriend. He was so annoying. No matter what, he was always on the slayer's mind. Buffy kept telling him to go away, but he never listened.
Now she was set in the hallway of a large ballroom with people dancing and laughing. It was absolutely stunning.
It was shocking, really, to find herself in such an awkward situation. No worries, she'd find a way to fix things. Or Willow will do it for her. Wait, Willow wasn't here. Looking around, Buffy realized she saw no familiar faces in the crowd. Oh well. How come she didn't care?
Sounds of giggles soared past her as she slowly walked toward the door.
Two doormen smiled at her as they each waved her in with an elegant gloved hand. No one wore gloves anymore. What the hell? They were also dressed in the style of the 19th century. What was this? 1880? Buffy laughed to herself as she entered the ballroom. It was even more beautiful from the inside. She wasn't sure of what to do. Buffy certainly didn't know how to curtsy, so she decided on a deep nod and a polite smile.
The slayer cleared her throat as she stepped into the ballroom. She could feel the admiration of men's gazes from all around her. Buffy's face was clearly flushed. Drawing in a shaky breath, she continued to walk on.
Women glanced in her direction and glowed with jealously. They turned their noses at her and lifted their chin, dragging their men away.
Buffy frowned. She hadn't expected to make enemies that soon. Her head went down slightly.
Oh God.
She suddenly wanted to just get away from it all. She had no desire to dance or talk or laugh. She just wanted out.
A hand gently grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. Her slayer instincts kicked in and she glared.
Only to be met by a ruggedly handsome man. He was French. Just the radiant vibes he gave off told her that. Green eyes met hers. Buffy's heart stopped. If you could even say that. Dark, black hair cut short and slightly spiked. She blinked slowly, not knowing why.
"Milady." He said as he took her hand and drew her closer. Buffy could feel his warm breath on her face.
"Uhh…" Buffy stammered for an answer.
"Care to dance?" He brought her closer yet. He lifted her hand to his lips and lightly kissed her knuckles. The spell broke
Buffy reared back.
"I-I-sorry." She was being rude, she knew, but she really didn't know how to act in this twisted world. Picking up the hem of her long skirt, she ran. Past the gentlemen who nodded at her, past the women who shook their heads, past the children eating candy, she just ran.
At last, Buffy came to a small private room. There she threw herself on a cushioned chair and caught her breath. She breathed heavily for a few minutes. What was happening? Had one of Willow's spells backfired? Was she actually traveling back in time?
A new emotion approached her, one she hadn't felt for a long time.
Fear.
Fear of not knowing where she was, fear of not knowing what to do, fear of not knowing how to get back.
Buffy's eyes widened. She didn't know any witchcraft to help her. Willow should pop in at this moment. But she didn't. And Buffy was pretty sure she was a stranger to everyone here too. She had no idea how to save herself. She just wanted to go back.
The tears were coming again. Buffy squeezed her eyes shut. They opened again when she heard voices. Grabbing the edge of the chair, she peeked around to see the one face she recognized.
Spike.
There he was, with his natural brown hair, dusty brown suit, and a woman sitting on his left. Cecily. Yeah, that was her name. She wouldn't even look at him. Her fan was in front of her, batting away uselessly.
At that moment Buffy realized where she was.
Spike's time.
Oh lovely. Everything had to revolve around Spike. Spike. Spike. Spike. Only Spike. Yup, Spike. Shut the hell up.
It was 1880, the day Drusilla came for William. The day he vamped into Spike, the demon. Maybe Buffy could save him.
She remembered him telling her about this very day. They were sitting at a round table in the corner of the Bronze. Buffy was still with Riley then. Spike had been eating Buffalo wings at the time. She was getting quite annoyed with him. She just wanted to know how he killed two slayers. He resolved to recounting his past with her.
William the Bloody was a nickname he was earned because his poetry was so bloody awful. The day he confessed his love to Cecily, he rejected him, saying he was 'beneath her'. He remembered the pain and misery. William wasn't very much liked. He had stomped out of the place angrily, ripping up the poems he had slaved over. In a dark alley he met Dru and that's where his life as a vampire started.
Buffy strained to her the conversation in front of her.
"…beneath me…" She had heard. Curses. Cecily looked away as Buffy noted the pain in Spi- William! 's face. She felt pity toward the man. Her heart broke for him. It seemed like a million years until William moved. He was kind of idiotic.
Buffy watched as he got up and walked away, muttering under his breath, crying. She had never seen him like that before. Who did Cecily think she was? Wait, was she actually defending Spike? Not wanting to miss her chance, Buffy quickly stood up and collided with him. Her nose bumped into his chest. She didn't remember being so short.
"Oh! I-I'm so sorry, ma'am. Are you alright?" He grabbed her by her upper arms and steadied her. Buffy was surprised at William's tone. Could this gentleman have actually turned into a demon? Maybe he did have a soul. He did have hope.
"Spike?"