"Still no word from authorities regarding the details of the conflagration that broke out here in the vineyard at the edge of town that started late last night, consumed the vineyard and mysteriously extinguished itself. The vineyard was supposedly abandoned back in-"
"Incredible," Giles said as he sipped his tea from a mug and watched the news anchor detail the history of the vineyard on the small kitchen tv.
"Yeah," Faith said, cheerio crumbs spilling out of her mouth, "it's a good thing Clark was there or that fire could've gotten really bad."
"Oh, well that too I suppose. I was actually referring to the fact that there's still a news anchor here in Sunnydale.
"Huh," Faith said before spooning more cereal into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "Maybe she's a demon."
"Might explain why she needed so much makeup."
Faith lifted the bowl to her mouth, tipped it back and poured all the milk down her throat. When she was done, she put the bowl in the sink on top of a precarious tower of other bowls and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. She turned to find Giles silently eyeing her.
"Prison eating habits; speed required, manners optional."
Giles simply shook his head and turned back to the tv. Faith shrugged and headed out through the kitchen door to stand on the patio overlooking the phalanx of teenage girls practicing elaborate kata.
Teenage girls and one boy.
Clark stood at the edge of the group, following along with their sequences of punches and kicks. He had such an intense, studious look on his face that Faith knew she was going to have to make fun of him later. Clark was the best type of prey, the kind that squirmed when you cornered them.
Buffy turned from where she was watching the girls and saw Faith. She nodded for Kennedy to continue leading and walked over.
"You okay," she asked when she stopped next to Faith.
Faith's hand went to her side and ran over a thin row of stitches.
"Five by five. That many Bringers, figure one of them was gonna get a lucky shot in."
"I told you to watch out."
"Yeah, thanks for that. I mean, it would've been useful if it had some a second sooner, but hey, it's the thought that counts, right?"
Buffy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, turning back to look over the Potentials.
"They seem, peppier today," Faith said.
"Mhm, morale is up," Buffy nodded.
"Attack on the bad guy's base with no casualties will do that. Willow and Dawn still upstairs trying to decode the ancient secrets of our new friend, Pointy Mc Hack'n'slash?"
"Yeah, Willow's doing web searches while Dawn does the bookwork. Gotta say though, Giles didn't have a clue about it, so chances are it's not in any of the books we have."
"Huh."
Faith leaned herself against the patio railing.
"Any clues yet?" She asked.
Buffy shook her head.
"Nada, all we know is that the First was working real hard to get it out of the stone. I think it's not just a weapon, it's important somehow. I can't really explain, but that's the feeling I get."
Faith chewed her lip in silence for a moment.
"Well, when you King Arthur-d it out of the stone, you kind of…went ballistic for a second there."
Buffy wrapped her arms more tightly around herself.
"Well, to be honest, I don't really remember too much of the details. It was like I was in a trance or something. It stopped soon after, but even now I can feel something whenever I hold it. It's strong…and it belongs to me. I can just tell."
Faith wasn't quite sure she liked the sound of that but she decided the be thing to do would be to change the topic.
"So what's our next move?"
Buffy shrugged.
"Not much we can do, at this point except keep investigating the weapon and Caleb, try to figure out the Firsts next move, and keep training."
Faith frowned.
"What about the info we got from that Bringer we captured, about the 'arsenal under the earth' or whatever?"
Buffy shook her head.
"We actually sent Clark to check it out this morning while you were sleeping off the meds."
Faith raised an eyebrow at that.
"You sent him in alone?"
"He said it would be faster that way," Buffy smiled out of the corner of her mouth, "he wasn't wrong."
I don't think I've seen a proper smile out of her since I got here, Faith thought.
"Well, what'd he find?"
"A bomb."
Faith's eyes grew wide and Buffy grinned.
"I know right? The First doesn't play by the rules. Doesn't it know demons aren't supposed to use anything invented after the 1200s?"
"Well, it is the First Evil, I guess cheating is to be expected."
Faith nodded over to Clark, diligently punching invisible opponents.
"How is he doing?"
"Not bad," Buffy said, following her gaze, "he learns really fast. It's actually kind of disturbing."
"Hm. So, you taken a shot at him yet?"
Buffy spun to her with a look of outrage.
"Faith, gross, he's sixteen."
Faith gave her a wicked smile.
"I actually meant had you tried fighting him yet, but clearly you've been having other thoughts."
Buffy's jaw clamped shut and she turned away, but Faith could see red creeping into the tips of her ears.
"You're a pig," Buffy said.
"Shhh, don't fight the feeling, B."
Buffy shook her head vigorously and walked away, Faith's grin beaming at her back the whole time.
"OK," Willow said as she leaned over her laptop, "before the vineyard was just, you know, a vineyard, it was a monastery. Could've been put there then. Some creepy monks messing with powers they don't understand."
Giles and Dawn both looked up from Willow's bed where they were half buried in thick tomes.
"No, it's older than that. It's pre-Christian," Giles said as he scratched his head.
Willow frowned and scrolled further down the webpage.
"OK. Well, I found reference to stories the monks used to tell about something older. Uh, like, some kind of pagan temple."
Dawn set aside a particularly heavy book and rubbed her eyes.
"Native American?" She asked.
Willow shook her head, still reading the screen.
"No. I don't know. Ugh. OK, maybe we're just going about this the wrong way. Maybe we should research the weapon itself. Like...look. Maybe it's the Axe of Dekeron, said to have been forged in hell itself. Lost since the Children's Crusade, where it was said to have killed—" She recoiled from her screen suddenly with a look of disgust, "Oh. Children. I hope that's not it."
Giles held up a large black book and adjusted his glasses which had slouched down the bridge of his nose.
"Well," he said "I have reference to the Sword of Moskva, the, uh...Reaper of the Tigris—how are we supposed to narrow this down? The illustrations are never clear enough."
Giles looked from the picture in his book to the gleaming red weapon leaning against the wall of the room. He sighed and set the book aside, standing up and hearing his legs crick as he stretched them.
"We really haven't got anything useful."
Willow got out of her chair, walked to the weapon and picked it up.
"Do you sense any of the power that Buffy spoke about?" Giles asked.
Willow held it and closed her eyes in concentration before scrunching her face up.
"Gotta say no. Must be a slayer thing."
Giles put a hand on her shoulder.
"Tapping into magicks might help with that."
Willow was silently pale.
"Maybe," she finally said, "But, I mean, if the First wanted this thing so bad, it must be pretty dangerous. And tapping into that..." she set the weapon back down like she was handling a live rattlesnake.
"Willow, you could do it without endangering yourself."
Dawn carefully kept her face in her book, keeping the words she wanted to say down.
"If I tried something big, I'd change," Willow said. "And then it's all black hair and veins and lightning bolts. I can hardly do a locator spell without getting dark roots."
Giles turned to look out the bedroom window.
"And if it was necessary," he all but whispered.
Willow shrugged.
"Honestly? I don't know." She turned and walked back to her computer.
"All right," Giles nodded, "Do what you can. That's all any of us can do."
"I guess so. Ugh. Man, none of these sound right," Willow sighed as she continued scrolling down. "I mean, look. Here's one that's just 'm' question mark. What the heck is that?"
"Let me see," Giles said as he walked over and leaned over her shoulder to look at the screen. "It's not a question mark. It's the international phonetics alphabet symbol for glottal stop."
"A whoey?" Willow asked.
"Gesundheit," Dawn said as she stood and peered over Willow's other shoulder.
"It's sort of a gulping noise," Giles said as he straightened out and removed his glasses in concentration. "I'm...remembering something here. Um... Ah. Hieroglyphs. Hieroglyphs stand for sets of consonants, as you know."
Willow and Dawn exchanged a glance.
"Yes, absolutely."
Giles had begun pacing, not even hearing them.
"'M' plus glottal stop is represented by a picture that's commonly thought to symbolize a sickle or a scythe. It's in thousands of carvings. In Egypt, throughout the ancient world."
"Carvings like you'd have on a pagan temple?"
Giles nodded and leaned over her shoulder again.
"Go back. See what else we can find out about this temple. The scythe is a symbol of death. Let's see where these pagans buried their dead."
They all turned as the door opened and Xander walked in.
"Buffy's about to fight Clark," he said.
"Xander," Giles began, "we're in the middle of some very important research."
Xander smirked.
"Don't pretend you don't want to watch."
Giles was silent for a moment before he straightened up and walked toward the door, Willow and Dawn close behind.
Officially, everyone was supposed to be pairing off into groups to spar one on one. However, the situation that actually resolved was two combatants facing each other in a wide ring formed by onlookers.
Buffy supposed this was the inevitable result when she announced that she would be squaring off against Clark. She considered telling them all to get back to their training, but…
None of them are going to be able to concentrate on what they're doing anyway, she reasoned. I just hope they don't start betting.
Her opponent was nervously shifting his eyes back and forth like an animal during their very first day as a zoo exhibit and wasn't yet used to the staring crowd.
If Faith hadn't seen him fight a super strong rock monster, I never would have believed it.
She heard the door open as she finished stretching herself out and turned just enough to see Willow, Dawn, Xander, and Giles step out onto the patio. Counting Spike skulking in the shadows around the kitchen window, almost the whole household was out here now.
Not exactly great, I can't teach the kid anything if he's all knotted up from being watched. Still, after the first time, everyone will probably go back to what they were doing.
She gave Clark her best disarming smile.
"So, ready to start?" She asked.
"I suppose so," Clark said, taking the opening stance he had been taught that morning. His feet set apart to keep his balance, arms up and centered so they could close inward to protect a body blow or lash out to intercept a limb strike with equal ease.
I've never actually seen him really fight, Buffy thought. Faith says he's strong and fast as all get out and that's not something she would joke about. So, do I go full force on him or do I start poking?
As Buffy took a stance of her own, she decided on a cautious approach.
Between them was about ten meters and without warning, Buffy shot across the distance in a second, using the momentum to fuel a strike straight at Clark's chest.
An arm came up and battered her strike away. Buffy followed up with another punch from the opposite arm with the same result. She let loose a flurry of blows that were all knocked to the side by the corresponding guard arm.
She disengaged and hopped back ten feet.
He stopped the punches cold instead of deflecting them and letting them slide off his arm. He's definitely strong. Strong and untrained. The concept of using his opponent's momentum doesn't even occur to him. He also gave unnecessary ground when I pressed in, so he's pretty passive. His form hasn't wavered though, so at least he can keep his concentration well.
Buffy could feel her arms tingling at the points of impact. There would definitely be bruises later. She had punched walls with more give than Clark.
Oh, I see now. Buffy realized that if Clark had used a cross guard to block her punches instead of hammering them outward, she would have broken her wrist as soon as her fist connected with him.
That's why he keeps backing away, He doesn't want me to hurt myself.
Buffy could feel her pride prickling in her stomach and she tried to squelch it. It seemed she couldn't meet Clark's strength head on, which meant she would need to try another angle.
Sorry Giles, she thought as she gave a tiny grin. Giles had always hated when she'd use unnecessarily acrobatic moves. She couldn't help that, as a former cheerleader, they came naturally to her.
"It's good that you're keeping the third dimension in mind when fighting, Buffy, but whenever you jump around like that, you're just wasting time and energy."
Buffy sprinted the distance again and turned into a punch like before, but this time, just as the block was coming she kicked off the ground in a jump that would have carried her over Clark's head. While she was still in the air she brought her arm, still outstretched from the punch, down on his shoulder open handed.
It wasn't a move ordinary humans could do easily, but with Buffy's Slayer strength, even her one hand was powerful enough to produce the torque she needed to drag herself through the air.
Using Clark's shoulder like a vaulting horse, she flipped over him and landed in a crouch behind him.
Her leg was moving even before she touched the ground, spinning the full weight of her body and the force of her fall into a powerful leg sweep.
Her leg met empty air as Clark backpedaled out of the range of the kick.
Buffy's instincts let her leap back to her feet, but her assault stopped there as she stared at him.
Faith stood up from the wall where she was leaning and stared at the two fighters.
"Jesus," she said. "I saw him fight the Beast but I was so out of it I could barely understand what happened. Seeing it now, fully sober, is kinda disturbing."
Willow turned to her, frowning.
"Why, what happened?"
Giles was leaned forward onto the patio rail.
"Was that a jump or a step?" He asked.
"It was three steps," Faith answered.
"Dear lord," Giles said.
Xander coughed from behind them.
"Hey, is anyone going to tell the peanut gallery not trained in the ancient arts of butt kick what you guys are so freaked out about?" He asked.
Giles straightened as he subconsciously assumed "teacher mode" while still keeping his eyes on Buffy and Clark.
"In combat, when things happen very quickly, the brain doesn't have time to make any complex decisions and can only perform simple reactions. Through training, you can teach a body how to quickly react in a complex pattern. A normal reaction to a leg sweep for a trained fighter is usually either a block, or a quick jump out of the way. For an untrained fighter like Clark it's almost always to jump back. That's not what he did. He stepped back, and then he did it again, twice. That is no longer a reaction, but a conscious decision."
Xander and Willow continued to give him blank stares and he sighed.
"What it means is that Clark is much faster than Buffy, so fast that he even had time to calmly asses even an unorthodox attack like that blindingly fast flip and kick, and make a conscious decision about what action to take. Not to mention how quickly he got out of Buffy's range."
Faith had seen Wesley look at Clark with the same eyes Giles now had. It was the look of someone out hiking, who wasn't sure if the silhouette they were seeing amid the trees was just underbrush or a mountain lion.
Buffy grit her teeth. If it wasn't for the look of earnest concentration on Clark's face, which was really beginning to annoy her, she would have thought she was being toyed with.
So, he's definitely strong, and he's really fast too. Lovely. The worst part is that he doesn't act as cocky as most of the other strong fighters I've had to go up against, so there goes that exploit. I probably can't win, but if he just stands there blocking and dodging, he's going to make me look like a fool.
She could feel the heat of a dangerous anger boiling inside her. She took a deep breath. Nothing was more dangerous than letting pride control you. Buffy squared herself and took a defensive stance that was a clear invitation to anyone looking.
"Your move," it said.
At least, it would have been clear if her opponent had any real training as a fighter. As it was, Clark was just staring at her, body clenched in anticipation of her next move.
He needs to loosen up. I don't know how much endurance he has put straining that much is still inefficient.
She groaned internally when Clark still didn't advance.
He's really going to make me do it isn't he. Oh god.
Feeling like a B-movie character, Buffy extended he hand and motioned toward herself with two fingers.
"Come at me."
It seemed that this was finally a sign transparent enough for Clark because he slowly started closing the distance between them, eyes alert for any move she might make.
Once he was in striking distance he let loose a punch that was much too sluggish for the speed Buffy suspected he was capable of.
She brought her arm out to deflect it, using just enough force to make it slide harmlessly off to her side and countered with a punch of her own from inside his guard. Just as she expected, he recovered fast enough to intercept her. They both stood there exchanging a rain of blows and counterblows. Clark did nothing but basic, telegraphed punches but Buffy never managed to score a hit no matter how she varied her attacks.
It seemed their difference in skill wasn't greater than the difference in speed and power. Soon Buffy felt all her muscles burning, but looking at Clark, she couldn't even see a bead of sweat.
At a certain point, it's just cheating, she whined to herself.
Suddenly Clark threw another punch, but this time he had the weight of his whole body, turning so that he was suddenly off balance. Though Buffy had decided before that getting into a grapple with someone like Clark was suicide, she grabbed hold of the arm and handily flipped him onto his back, bringing her fist down an inch away from his face.
Buffy frowned at him as she spotted his other arm sprawling out over the grass, but she said nothing as she stood and helped him to his feet. She met Faith's eye across the yard and Faith nodded. They'd both noticed it.
Around Buffy and Clark, the Potentials were clapping and Buffy waited for it to die down before telling them all to get back into pairs. It seemed the show had fired them up and the girls jumped into their own matches with gusto.
Xander, Willow, Faith, Dawn and Giles all watched Buffy give Clark some feedback from their perch on the porch.
"See," Xander said, grinning, "nothing to worry about. Buffy's taken on plenty of strong guys and she's always won. I mean, she beat a god, so…"
Faith and Giles exchanged a silent glance.
Xander finished rinsing off another plate before handing it to Anya.
His ex-demon, ex-fiancé took it without a word, wiped it with a hand towel and tossed it onto a tower of dry plates with a punctuated clattering.
"Anya, what are you doing," Xander finally asked. She had been loudly ignoring him ever since he had gotten back from the vineyard. He'd left it alone because he thought that dealing with her crazy wasn't his job anymore and if she wanted to sulk over god knows what she was welcome to it.
However, it wouldn't do for her to break all of Buffy's dishes.
"Drying plates," she said without looking at him.
"Yes, well…there's no point to drying them if they all get broken. We might as well skip a step and throw them directly in the trash."
She still wasn't looking at him, and he could tell from the way she'd put her weight on her right foot that she was getting defensive.
Whatever, he sighed as he began scrubbing down another plate.
"Why did she take you?" Anya said, three plates later.
"What do you mean?"
"Buffy, why did she take you last night. You're useless in a fight, and being a hero, she hasn't embraced the concept of 'meat shield', so I really just don't know why she took you."
I will not scream, I will not scream, I will not scream.
"She wanted someone else with experience to come along and coordinate the Potentials in case something happened to her or Faith." Xander said as he scrubbed another plate with more vigor than was absolutely necessary. He certainly wasn't imagining anyone's face on the surface of that plate or anything.
"Well that's dumb, if something happened to Buffy or Faith, the most you could coordinate is everyone's timely deaths."
Xander stopped scrubbing. He may not have known Anya as long as some of her demon friends, but he felt that he understood her better than anyone. He realized what she was actually trying to say. She had been worried. Worrying about people was the human emotion Anya hated and struggled with the most, and personal attack was pretty much the only way she knew how to express it.
"Are you asking me to stay here with you next time?"
Now Anya was the one vigorously drying. She set the plate down lightly this time and continued staring out the window.
"No," she finally said. "I know we all have to do our part and everything but…"
"Hey," Xander interrupted. There wasn't any need to make it harder on her than it was. "Don't worry about it. You know me, I'm not like Buffy or Faith. Soon as things go south, I'm the first one for that most courageous of all maneuvers, the tactical retreat."
She snorted and he picked up another plate to begin rinsing. Silenced returned to them until Xander heard Anya all but whisper something. He recognized that voice. It was her "I'm trying to express one of these weird human emotions that scare and confuse me but I don't know how" voice.
"I don't know how many more nights we have left," she said, "I don't think I want to spend them alone."
Xander stopped rinsing and turned to her. She couldn't meet his gaze. A powerful feeling of longing and grief squeezed him. Some part of him said that it was probably a bad idea, that they would just be repeating history, but he took her hand.
"Neither do I."
"What do you mean by 'you need the room'"? Rona asked Xander and Anya who had suddenly burst in while she and some of the other girls were enjoying one of their rare moments of leisure time.
"Xander and I need the room for intercourse," Anya said before Xander could stop her.
Rona's face rapidly went through the five stages of grief over the death over her innocent heart.
"Ew, no. What the heck is wrong with you? Go find another room."
"We can't," Xander said, deciding the best tactic would be to just forge ahead and get the whole conversation over and done with as soon as possible. "All the other rooms are occupied by people doing more important things."
"So? Kick spike out of the basement."
"He does have chains-"
Xander held up a hand to cut Anya off.
"No, just…no. Look, Rona, we don't need the room for long."
"Ten minutes, twenty max."
Xander gave Anya an evil glare which she returned with a baffled expression.
"We'll make it worth your while."
"Oh really?" Rona asked, snark thrusters fully throttled. "How exactly do you plan on doing that?"
"Prisons are built with stones of Law, Brothels with bricks of Religion.
The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.
The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.
The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God.
The nakedness of woman is the work of God.
Excess of sorrow laughs. Excess of joy weeps.
The roaring of lions, the howling of wolves, the raging of the stormy sea, and the destructive sword, are portions of eternity too great for the eye of man.
The fox condemns the trap, not himself"-
Clark looked up as Xander approached him, closing the book he had been reading.
"Hey," Xander said.
"Hi, sorry. I was going through the books that were in languages I knew and I came across this. It's an old favorite so I thought I'd just read through it really quick-"
Xander held up a hand.
"Relax Clark, I'm not going to bust you for not doing homework."
"Ah, thanks," Clark grinned, setting the book carefully down atop a pile of occult texts. "But I really do want to help. I mean, you guys are giving me room and board so, I want to earn my keep."
"So you keep telling everyone, and that expression always bothered me. I mean, I get the room…but what's the board?"
"Uh…maybe it's the table where the guest eats."
"Huh. Anyway, listen Clark, I hate to ask this but since you brought up wanting to be useful and all…I was wondering if you could do me a favor."
"Of course," Clark said, eyes brimming with determination before even hearing what the favor was.
Xander sighed internally.
Lord forgive me for this sacrifice of an innocent lamb.
"It's nothing big, basically I just need you to wash my car."
Clark blinked owlishly.
"Oh…ok."
"Thanks man, you'd be doing me a huge favor. What with the whole pending doom I just don't know when I'll get a chance to take it to a car wash."
"It's not a problem, I do stuff like this all the time back home." Clark gave Xander a winning smile and Xander apologized in his heart again for the brutalities men inflicted on each other in the unending quest for coitus.
"Ok, great. I'll get you some swim shorts. You know, to keep your clothes dry."
"Sure, that's sensible."
"You feeling okay, Clark?" Xander asked the younger man as they stood out in the front yard.
"Hm? Yeah I'm fine. Just this odd feeling…like I'm being watch or something."
"I'm sure it's nothing. Clothes okay?"
"To be honest, why am I wearing this T-shirt, it's probably just going to get wet, right? Both it and these shorts are kind of tight as it is."
"Oh, that…well it may not seem like it but even California can get pretty chilly this time of year. It wouldn't do for you to go catching a cold over something like this."
"Oh, if that's all, it's really not a problem. I really doubt I'll get sick."
"Well, just humor me, please."
"…okay, if you insist."
"Thanks Clark, I really can't repay you enough."
Clark waved his hands amicably.
"I told you it's not a big deal."
"Right," Xander nodded, "I'll leave you to it then."
Xander left Clark standing in front of the car with a bucket, a sponge, some soap, and a hose and walked back up and entered the house.
Clark tugged slightly at the white tank top that felt a size or two too small for him.
I wonder whose this is? I don't think it could fit Mr. Harris.
Clark shrugged and started giving the car a preliminary hose down. As he expected, the water splashed back all over him and soon the shirt was drenched and almost transparent.
Sorry Mr. Harris, but I really won't catch a cold, it won't do for this shirt to get ruined for no reason.
Clark started to take the shirt off but it was slow going. The already small top was now heavy with wet and clung to his skin like a thousand tiny mouths sucking on his bare body.
Better be sure to take it off slowly so I don't accidentally tear it.
Xander walked back into the house and turned to the living room where Rona, almost all the potentials, Dawn, and even Anya were pressed up against the window, peaking through blinds.
Xander coughed gently and after a pause Rona finally turned over to look at him.
"Change all the sheets when you're done," she said before turning back to the window.
Xander walked over to Anya and peeked through the blinds to see Clark struggling to remove the shirt that was clinging to his torso.
"Anya."
"Hm?"
"Anya, we've got the room, let's go before he finishes."
Anya grabbed Xander by the collar, still staring at Clark as he finally managed to free himself from the shirt, before she turned away and dragged Xander up the stairs.
Clark finally managed to get the shirt off and walked over to the porch to lay it out to dry. Once there he saw a bowl of tangerines balanced on the porch railing.
Hm, looks like Mr. Harris left me something to snack on when I'm done. He keeps thanking me and going on and on about paying me back, but I'd say this makes us about even.
Clark went back to the car and started to lather it up with soap, turning and looking up and down the street as he stretched himself out to reach every inch of the car, soap getting on his body as he pressed against the car to make sure he reached those far spots.
It had been a few weeks since he had done something so…normal. Clark moved slowly to savor the familiar feeling of just doing chores. It was calming, it might even have been rather blissful if he had been able to shake that strange feeling that he was being watched.
He scanned his vision up and down the road again. No one there.
Huh.
"What are you all doing?" Buffy asked as she and Faith walked into the living room to find all the Potentials crowded around the window, staring out through the blinders.
No one responded. Buffy spotted her sister and walked over. Her ears were crimson and she was breathing strangely.
"Dawn, what's going on?"
"Shh," Dawn waved her sister away and Buffy frowned.
Rude.
Faith came up next to them and cracked a space between the blinders with her fingers.
"Hello!" She started.
"What is it?"
"You've got to see it to believe it, B."
Buffy took a peek through the blinders and her eyes grew wide.
"Oh god, is that…"
"Yep."
"Is he…"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Who cares?"
Buffy looked out onto her front lawn to find Clark washing Xander's car in tightly fitting, black swim shorts. The evening sun seemed to infuse his skin with a golden glow as he reached and stretched himself over the car, gently lathering it. Droplets of water and soap glistened on his bare, muscular back and torso as his muscular arms steadily guided the sponge along the curves of the car's body.
"Oh god, Faith, stop looking. He's a minor!"
"You stop first, B."
"Jesus, someone should do something."
"Probably."
Clark finally finished soaping down the car and he rinsed it thoroughly with water from the hose. Once he was satisfied that he had cleaned it all, he turned the hose on himself and washed off the soap.
He closed his eyes in pleasure as the cool water flowed in rivulets down the length of his body until he was sure he was clean.
He turned off the hose and walked over to grab the bowl of tangerines. He picked a succulent looking one and took it back to the car before leaning up against it, beginning to peel the tangerine with his thumbs.
I think I'll let her bask in the sun for a bit before drying her off.
Clark shook his head vigorously and ruffled his soaked hair before letting it fall back into his face in thick cords.
Beads of water made their slow way down across his chest and arms before falling to the ground.
Clark finally peeled the whole tangerine and turned to gaze at the crimson setting sun.
Monsters and such aside, this place is actually kind of nice.
Clark put each one of the tangerine slices halfway into his mouth and gently sucked it in between his lips, savoring its tart flavor as he ate. Soon the golden juices were flowing over his lips and down his chin as he gently licked the remnants off each finger one by one.
Well, time to get back to work.
Kennedy walked into the living room to find the other Potentials, Dawn, and Faith gathered around the window, peeking out through the blinders and high-fiving each other.
The hell?
She pushed through some of the other potentials and managed to get a space to peek through the window. What she saw was the boy Clark, standing in the fading sunlight, bent over a car he was slowly wiping down with a towel, swim trunks that were at least one size too tight stretching out across his backside.
Kennedy pulled back and looked at the women who would be tasked with defending humanity.
Wait, almost everyone is here…
"Say, guys, where are Spike, Giles, Xander, and Anya?"
"Spikes in the basement, obviously. Giles is in another room looking at books, who knows where Xander and Anya are?"
"Hm…and Willow?"
"Up in her room doing research on the computer."
"Alone?"
"Probably."
Kennedy nodded.
"Carry on then," she said as she slowly backed out of the room and headed up the stairs.
Late that night, Clark and Buffy walked silently through one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries.
Clark kept glancing nervously at her. Earlier he had been helping Giles with research on the new weapon they had found when Buffy had walked in and told him to accompany her on patrol. Clark had the distinct impression there was more to the story than that.
So far she hadn't said a word, and Clark couldn't bring himself to break the silence either, so they walked further and further into the night.
When they passed in front of a large mausoleum, Buffy stopped, and Clark snapped to a halt behind her.
She turned and looked at him for a second.
"Why did you let me win earlier today?"
"Um…" Clark coughed lightly, but she just stared him down. So, she had noticed.
"I…well, you could tell?"
Buffy nodded.
"You were purposely moving much more slowly than you can, and at the end you just stopped trying altogether."
"Well…" Clark rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.
"Were you afraid you would hurt me?"
"Maybe a little, but…there's more to it."
Buffy crossed her arms, and even Clark could read her stance.
We're not going anywhere until you explain, it said.
Clark sighed.
"Well, I'm not sure if you noticed, but when I first got here, everyone was kind of freaking out. The Potentials especially were pretty restless, and a lot of them would sort of…talk."
Buffy frowned.
"What kind of talk?"
Oh boy. Might as well just rip the bandage off all at once, right?
"Well, about you, mostly. Some of the girls were worried that you wouldn't be able to protect them, and some were…critical of your leadership."
"Oh," Buffy deflated. "Well, isn't that…something."
"I mean, after the fight at the vineyard, they mostly quieted down but…well, I don't think anyone but you has the necessary experience to be in charge here. Still, there's a primal sort of authority that comes with physical strength. It's part of our…I mean your, human nature. I didn't want anyone to have any doubts about you, no matter how small, over so insignificant a thing as physical prowess."
"Hm," Buffy said. She turned away and stared out into the night.
Leadership huh?
She grimaced and for the billionth time since the whole thing started she wondered what the hell she was doing. Why her, why did she have to hold everyone's lives in her hands. She just wanted…well, whatever. After all these years, it had become abundantly clear to Buffy that what she wanted didn't really matter.
"Okay, Clark. Thanks, I guess. Still, if you're going to be fighting with us, we're going to need to at least know the extent of your powers. If we don't, we won't be able to plan properly."
Clark had that look again, like you'd just kicked his puppy. Buffy fought a sudden urge to roll her eyes at him.
He's still just sixteen. When I was sixteen, even with my Slayer-ness, I was still kind of like that sometimes.
"What's wrong Clark?"
"No, nothing…it's just," Clark put his hands in his pockets and hunched up his shoulders like he was trying to vanish into his jacket. He looked away from her and stared down the winding cemetery road.
"Can you promise you won't be afraid of me?"
He was pretty terrified, so Buffy decided the least she could do was treat the question seriously, so she thought about it.
"No, Clark, I can't promise I won't be afraid of you…but, I can promise to give you the benefit of the doubt. After all you've done, for me and for Angel, I think we owe you that much."
Clark nodded to her.
"Okay."
Buffy gave him a wry smile and pointed at the mausoleum.
"In there is a big ol' vamp nest. Some twenty or so out of towners. 'Nest' barely qualifies, since for vampires a group of four is considered a crowd. Take them out."
Clark looked intently at the mausoleum, and Buffy wondered if he was seeing through it.
After a bit he nodded at her, frowning.
"Okay," he said, "if we don't, they'll just kill more people right?"
Buffy wasn't sure if he was saying that for her benefit or for his.
"That's right. So, I'm going to hang back first and jump in if I think you'll need it."
Clark nodded again and walked toward the crypt.
Buffy thought he was going to try and make for the windows, but instead Clark walked right up to the heavy doors of wrought iron, each weighing several hundred pounds. With one hand, Clark pushed the bolted doors completely off their hinges and sent them crashing to the floor.
In an instant he was gone from the doorway and amid the vampires. Before they knew what was happening it was over. Clark stood alone in the crypt, stake in hand, watching a sea of dust be carried to the ground in gentle eddies.
Buffy was glad she hadn't made a promise she couldn't keep.
Clark lay on his sleeping bag, staring up at the ceiling, trying to find sleep, but it eluded him.
"If we don't, they'll just kill more people right?"
"Nice work, Naman."
Clark shot up and found the First in its guise as Kyla.
Clark glared at it before laying back down and closing his eyes.
"Oooh, the cold shoulder, huh? Okay then, lover, I'll talk, you listen."
It was at his side now, so Clark turned his back to it and placed his pillow over his head.
"Now you're just being childish. Still, you did some good work tonight. You broke into those vampire's home and slaughtered them all in the name of justice. Keep that up and Fairy Godmother might make you a real human boy soon. But it's fine, they were evil, right? I mean, they ate humans, so how could they not be evil. I mean, sure, humans are part of their natural diet and eating humans is just a part of their nature, but who cares? It's totally correct to punish people for just being true to themselves, so long as that self isn't something we agree with, right?"
Clark balled his fists and took a deep breath before he began counting to one thousand. Unfortunately for him, that took about five seconds, so he started counting to one hundred thousand.
"After all, I'm sure if you ask the ox, they'll all agree that nothing is more evil than a lion, and it is right that they all be put to death for no reason other than they are lions. Hm, it seems like I'm remembering something. Someone once said…hm, what was it? Something like…"
It was leaning over him now, whispering into his ear.
"One law for the Lion and the Ox is oppression."
Author's note:
I really like this chapter's title. So far, this chapter, chapter six, and chapter three's titles are the one's I'm proudest of.
For those who don't know, what Clark is reading is "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" by William Blake, and at the very end of the chapter, the quote the First uses is also from that same poem.
Anyway, I wanted to take advantage of this lull in the story to try and practice some things I think I'm rather weak in, that's fight scenes and erotic scenes.
Writing fight scenes for people with superpowers is pretty hard. To begin with, I don't fight, so all my knowledge has to come second hand from research, not only into fighting, but also into the physics of the fight itself.
After all, though you might think just being super strong wouldn't change a fight all that much, you'd be wrong. There's so many factors to keep in mind, sigh. As it is, the fight scene feels kind of weak to me.
Also there was the car wash scene, that happened. Sorry about that, by the way. I don't think it was sexy enough, but I've actually never had to write a scene like that before. I had to do some research for that to, and by ''research", I mean reading passages from erotica.
The thing about erotic scenes is that they, probably more than any other scene, require vivid sensory description in order to be effective. Add that to the list of skills that need polishing.
I also found my characterization to be a bit lacking, especially when it came to the Scoobies. Whenever I would write for them it would feel…not wrong per say, but incomplete, like some part was missing. The problem is I'm not sure yet what that part is so I can't correct myself.
Well, either way, thank you for reading.
