See first part for Disclaimer, etc.
Main Hallway, SHS
To the casual observer, the darkened corridors of Sunnydale High School were completely deserted. Even to the most astute of observers, the muted, repetitive thuds could be chalked up to something rattling around in the air ducts, or an odd sonic phenomenon transmitting sounds from outside. But the opening and closing of the music room door, with no visible force applied, could not be seen as anything but out of the ordinary.
Inside room 127, the music hall, a spontaneous creak arose out of the instrument-filled cabinet in the corner. A moment later, a rectangular hatch in the ceiling above the cabinet opened inward and was lowered shut after a few seconds.
The loft above the music hall was more like an elevated crawl-space. It's low ceiling made standing an iffy proposition for anyone over five feet tall, and that wasn't even considering the chaotic web of cables - some insulated, some bare - thin pipes, ducts and other things loosely attached to and hanging from the ceiling. They were swayed back and forth by two fans which circulated air around the room, and, during the day, provided the only conduit for natural light in the loft. In the corner, a very make-shift bed - it would have been stretching it to call it a cot - lay rumpled and unmade, as well as a host of other items one would normally find in someone's bedroom, not a cramped, musty attic.
Marcie Ross groped around in the dark for her flashlight and flipped it on upon discovering it, cleaving the air with a bright beam of light. It was an industrial-sized one that she'd swiped out of the shops room five months ago, when she'd moved into her present accommodations. When those goddamn bitches made me move she thought with utter and complete hatred. She had to fight down the urge, for about the millionth time, to pay Cordelia Chase a visit with her friend Rusty Blade. Everything that had gone wrong with her life was that snotty little rich whore's fault. But that was why she held back. Marcie wanted to exact her revenge at just the right moment, when Cordelia would suffer the most.
Marcie had long ago gotten accustomed to her invisible condition and didn't even bat an unseen eye upon seeing the flashlight floating in front of her. Not that she'd had a clue as to why this had happened to her, until she'd heard a possible explanation a month or so ago. She wasn't exactly sure - time had become irrelevant since she'd faded out of the world's view.
An ear-splitting, animalistic howl had drawn Marcie's attention that night to the school library, where she'd found the new librarian and Willow Rosenburg watching Amy Madison being circled by some kind of green ghost-animal thing. For an invisible person, she'd been surprisingly shocked at that supernatural scene, but Marcie had decided to keep an eye on those three from then on. What she'd found out was that her hometown was a beacon for monsters - Monsters! - and a bunch of students and the librarian fought them. The new blond girl (Buffy Summers, she'd learned from breaking into student records in the principal's office) was 'the Slayer' and had superpowers. The librarian called himself her 'Watcher'. Whatever they were. And, most importantly, Xander Harris, who Marcie remembered as a first class dork on his good days, was actually a twenty-one year old teenager.
At first, Marcie hadn't believed a word they'd said. She'd thought they were making everything up just to fool her, and that they were laughing at her behind her back, conveniently forgetting that they didn't even know she was there. Maybe it stemmed from her continued desire to be noticed, despite her current situation.
Then, on one of her clandestine spy jobs, she'd heard a conversation between Xander and her old computer science teacher, Miss Calendar. Marcie couldn't follow a lot of what they talked about - it was just a bunch of supernatural mumbo-jumbo to her. But she did come away with the impression that Xander knew things about the computer teacher that Miss Calendar didn't think he should. Marcie remembered that Miss Calendar used to noticed her sometimes. She'd said "Nice job, Marcie," one time when she was handing back an assignment. It was basically the sum total of praise she'd received from the Sunnydale High faculty in her tenure there. So, Marcie had been inclined to believe Miss Calendar wasn't out to get her, since she wasn't quite the monumental bitch every other Sunnydale resident was.
Observing the bizarre party tonight had solidified Marcie's theory that Xander and his friends were either clinically insane or telling the truth. And if they weren't insane then Xander might know about her. She was secretly thrilled that someone might actually be thinking about her.
But then she remembered how he would remember her - as the person who mutilated Cordelia's face. That's what Marcie had planned. She was going to give the bitch queen a very bloody makeover with good ol' Rusty. Good ol' Rusty. My only friend now. Funny how I can't even see my blood on you Marcie had taken to cutting herself sometimes to see if she'd bleed invisible blood, which she did. She kept doing it every week or so to see if anything changed, though it never did. But she had no plans to stop her masochistic ritual.
They'll try and stop me! Marcie's thoughts eventually wandered back to the matter at hand. She knew Xander and Willow hated Cor-bitch too. Maybe they'll help me? she wondered. No they won't! They were always talking about saving people. They'd probably even try and save the whore-bitch. Bastards. They're just as bad as her! If they try and stop me, I'll, I'll kill them!!
Marcie suddenly started giggling, as she always did when she figured something out, or connected the dots to come up with a great plan. "They'll pay," she whispered out between maniacal chortles. "They'll all pay."
* * * * *
April 18, 1997
4:15 PM
SHS Library
"Are you sure, Xan?" Buffy asked, concerned about her boyfriend's well being.
Xander sighed. "Why do you keep asking me that? I am completely, 100% fine with it. I couldn't be any finer," he smirked at that. "And on a related topic, neither could you." Xander visibly scanned his girlfriend from head to toe.
The Slayer rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "Xander, be serious. I don't want to do anything that could ... hurt you anymore than I already have."
Xander frowned as Buffy did the same. "And how many times have I told you to stop obsessing over that, too? What happened wasn't your fault. It's practically mine for-"
"What are you talking about!?" Buffy exclaimed. "How can you say it was you when it was me? Me, me, me, me, me! I'm the one who-"
"Buff, just ... stop it, 'kay?" Xander interrupted. "Even if I did blame you for what you did while you were possessed, which I don't," he emphasized, "It's in the past, and therefore doesn't matter."
Buffy bit her lip and glanced trepidatiously at Xander. "I don't know-"
"Do you not want to do this?" he blurted out.
"No!" she denied immediately. "No, I do, I totally do. I just..."
"Oh for heaven's sakes," Rupert Giles spoke from his seat beside the table, just behind where Buffy and Xander were talking. The Watcher was toweling some sweat off his forehead. The couple turned their attention to the irritated Brit. "Would you two just end this melodrama and get on with it?"
Buffy and Xander blinked in mutual surprise at Giles' rebuke, and then turned back to one another. Xander grinned. "You did sound pretty whiny there, Buff."
The Slayer's glare spoke of impending trouble for her ill-prepared boyfriend. "Y'know, suddenly, your health and continued vertical alignment aren't all that important to me."
"Wanna get me horizontal, huh? I knew it."
If he hadn't known her so well, the barely noticeable change in her facial expression and body language which altered her demeanor from annoyed to sultry in a heartbeat would have caused his eyes to bulge. "You think you can take me?" Buffy asked in an invitingly and challenging way.
"I could take you where you stand," Xander stated, stepping toward Buffy while oozing machismo.
Giles groaned quietly and rubbed his temples with his fingertips. Do they have to do this every time?
Buffy raised her chin in defiance. "You couldn't take me if I had both hands tied behind my back."
Xander kept slowly swaggering toward Buffy. "You've got the order mixed up there, Buff. First comes the taking, then we do the tying!"His last word was raised as he started their sparring session by firing a right jab at his girlfriend with as much strength and speed as he could. He didn't pull any punches because knew what the result we be.
Buffy calmly weaved to the side and used her arm to bat Xander's jab away from her head. He immediately spun on the ball of his right foot into a left roundhouse kick, which the Slayer also dodged with fluid grace. Xander tried again to lay a fist on her, but the block came up again...
As Xander relentlessly attacked Buffy, he was irked by his girlfriend's unruffled, almost lackadaisical efforts to turn him back, which were nevertheless working. Even more infuriating was the obvious fact that she had no intention of counterattacking him, and instead seemed intent on letting him wear himself out. And, unfortunately for Xander, pride went before his fall.
After a couple minutes and with one last, mighty swing, Xander overextended himself. Buffy merely stepped out of the way so that he could stumble to the ground in a graceless, face-first heap on the matted floor.
"Had enough, boy toy?" Buffy taunted him, and he couldn't detect any hitched speech that labored breathing would cause her.
"Wench," Xander wheezed. The Slayer laughed at him and he heard her move behind him to his right. He prepared for his last attempt to get at Buffy.
"Need help, X-" she was interrupted herself when she saw Xander tense his leg and realized he was planning to sweep her legs out from under her. She hopped straight up-
And was surprised when Xander rolled over and swung his leg up, not right over the mat, like she expected, but at a high angle so that his shin struck her knees.
Xander really followed through, though, so that when Buffy landed on her back, she still had momentum flipping her backwards. So, when Xander rolled back over to gloat at his minor victory, Buffy had already rolled herself back to her feet, and stepped on his chest to pin him down. She had a very pleased smirk on her face. Xander had his jaw gaping wide open. "Thank you, sir, may I have another?"
"That's impossible!" Xander tried to deny the impossible-to-deny.
"And I was even going easy on you," Buffy shook her head in mock-sadness. "That's just so ... sad."
"Yeah, well, one of these days, it's me who's gonna be pushing down on your chest," Xander started when he realized what he'd said, but then broke out in a lewd grin when Buffy blushed. "And what a banner day that'll be." He was rewarded for his wit by the Slayer applying some more pressure to his ribs. Hell would freeze over before he winced at the slight pain that caused. That was the whole point behind this first training session with Buffy since his debilitating injuries at the Master's hands. His bones were technically healed, but damned if they didn't hurt now. On the other hand, admitting that to Buffy would be admitting she was right, and he couldn't have that.
Buffy was about to reply when the library doors were pushed open and the library's occupants turned or lifted their heads to see Amy and Jesse enter. Jesse's face sagged in disappointment when he saw Buffy pinning Xander down. "You guys started without me? You know how much I love watching Xander get beat up by a girl!"
"She's got the strength of, like, twenty men," a sweating and panting Xander protested.
"I know," Jesse smirked. "I just love saying it."
"Jesse," Amy said. "We're not here to rub Xander's inadequacies in, remember?"
"Hey..." Xander called weakly from the floor.
"You're right. I'm sorry pookie," Jesse replied to his girlfriend. He winced when, after smiling at him, Amy wrapped her arm around his and then dug her fingernails into his forearm.
"Do you remember our talk about disgusting pet names?"
"Do you remember our talk about gouging my poor arms?" Jesse retorted. "I'm gonna have to start wearing long-sleeves, or else people are gonna start talking."
"Hello? Manhood being trampled here," Xander interrupted, trying to get his own girlfriend's attention.
Buffy was unsympathetic. Shrugging, she suggested, "So get up..."
"...see, I thought 'pookie' was one of the agreed upon nicknames," Jesse argued to Amy. "It came up during that whole shnookie-cookie-wookie train of thought."
"Yeah, and I shot all those down. Do I look like a poodle?..."
Moving was not an option for Xander. Sharp lances of pain streaked up from his chest when he did. "Buffy, don't make me do something we'll both regret later."
"Like what? Beg? Why ever would I regret that?..."
"...must ... resist ... smart-assed comment..." Jesse ground out, trying to avoid saying something that would get him into scalding hot water with his girlfriend.
"Please stop," Giles interrupted, finally discovering a break between both conversations. The teenagers hadn't even noticed that the Watcher had meandered in between the bickering couples. "I-I don't know how much more ... adolescent innuendo I can bear before I do something I'll regret. Buffy, let Xander up," he ordered.
She did as he said. "You're the Watcher." Xander quickly got up, pretending as if he felt no pain.
Giles turned to Amy. "You said you were here for a reason, other than driving me batty?"
The blond girl who was not a Slayer nodded. "Ghost."
"Wind," Jesse followed immediately.
"Ghost!" Amy fired back.
"Wind!"
"So we're going with 'ghost wind' then?" Xander asked, lowering himself into the chair Giles had vacated.
"Is that even possible?" Buffy asked her Watcher.
"Sure," Xander responded. "Breeze with post-mortem issues. Maybe it always wanted it to be a gale." The others stared blankly at him for a long moment, so Xander rolled his eyes at them. "Yes, that was sarcasm. God it sucks being the mature one."
"I've never thought you were mature," Jesse piped up. Xander smirked, feeling a little better at his friend's assurances of his continued immaturity.
"I mean, just a ghost," Amy corrected.
"She means 'just a wind.'" Jesse counter-claimed.
"Stop being an idiot! There's no wind in the middle of the school!" Amy retorted.
"There could be," Jesse insisted. "We're on an evil portal-thing, after all. Wacky, sudden, cold winds come with the territory."
Giles' impatience finally brimmed over into annoyance, and he took his glasses off to rub at his eyes with the back of his hand. "C-could you possibly tell me what in the name of God you're speaking of?"
"Nothing. My girly girlfriend is just jumping at shadows. Aren'tcha Aims?"
Amy crossed her arms in front of her and glared archly at her erstwhile boyfriend. "Why are you being such a big, stupid, pig-headed ... guy?" Before Jesse could answer to that, Amy decided to just take her chances with Giles. She turned her attention to him. "We were on our way here. Jesse wasn't acting like such a jerk," Jesse crossed his own arms and exhaled a quick 'pfft!'. Amy glared at him further. "And then the door by the gym just slammed shut, really hard. Sounds like a poltergeist to me. Unless you subscribe to Jesse's 'stupid, stupid wind theory,'" she added condescendingly.
"I-I think I'll reserve judgement," Giles hedged.
In a flash of inspiration, Xander snapped his fingers and pointed at Jesse. "The old Veeling farm!"
At Xander's odd utterance, all except Jesse regarded Xander with curiosity bordering on disbelief. Jesse stared daggers at Xander.
"The ... old baby ... deer killing farm?" Buffy questioned.
"Hey Xander, weren't you going to shut up about now?" Jesse asked/ordered.
"No, I remember now," Xander started. "When we were like, eight, me, you and Wills went to that old farm just outside town cuz it was supposed to be haunted. Then when we were lookin' around, you came out screaming out of the barn like a banshee. Ha!" he laughed. As he was struck by realization, his eyes bulged wide. "Hey, you think there really was a ghost?"
"Ya think!?" Jesse exclaimed in aggravation, throwing his hands in the air. "You guys were all 'oh, fraidy-cat Jesse'. Well I see your mocking and raise you a Hellmouth!"
"So ... you were being a anal-retentive jerk because you were scared?" Amy asked, her angry somewhat sapped.
"No!" Jesse denied immediately. "Scared of a ghost? I-I'm fearless in the face of the supernatural! How many vamps have I taken out, huh?"
"Two, by my count," Xander inserted. He hoisted his feet up onto the adjacent chair and leaned back, with his hands behind his head. "Ain't just a big ol' river anymore is it Jess-man?"
"Do you have any idea how dead you are?" Jesse threatened.
Xander shook his head. He'd just supplied his friend with an ideal fix to his minor spat with Amy, but he was more worried about his own pride. Right, cuz you always do the rational thing he thought sarcastically.
Luckily for Jesse, Amy seemed to be able to see right through his translucent boasting. "Ohhhh, I'm sorry for going all witchy on you." She returned to her comfortable position right next to Jesse. "You don't have to be ashamed about being afraid. Half the creepy stuff we deal with freaks me out like you wouldn't believe."
Jesse finally twigged to Xander's motive for bringing up his embarrassing childhood story. "Well, maybe I was a little afraid..."
"Yes, wonderful. Could we perhaps return to the issue at hand?" Giles asked, heading up to the stacks in search of some information source is he seemed just itching to read.
"Well, um, it was a girl ghost, I think," Amy remarked.
"A female apparition?" Giles queried.
"And the award for 'most convincing portrayal of a walking thesaurus' goes to..." Buffy said.
"How do you know?" Giles asked Amy, not rising to Buffy's bait. The Slayer, looking disappointed that her Watcher just ignored her witty comment, sulked her way over to the table. She decided to shorten her trip to one of the remaining chairs by plopping herself down on Xander's lap, an accommodation they enjoyed equally, judging by the smiles they sent each other's way before turning their attention back to the conversation.
"It's a girl thing. We know what we know," Amy answered. Jesse rolled his eyes, careful to make sure his girlfriend didn't notice. "Besides, the crazy laugh was a dead give-away."
"It-it laughed?"
"Look, in the hallway!" Jesse exclaimed. "It's a Watcher! It's a librarian! It's ... Repeato-Man!"
Giles shook his head in irritation, while the teens smirked and tried not to laugh. "Haven't you anything useful to contribute?"
Buffy slouched back onto Xander's shoulder, crossing her arms and pouting her lip off. "How come Jesse gets the dry wit and I just get ignored for basically the same joke?"
Xander gave her a quick smooch on the cheek before answering. "Because Jesse has a quality of annoyance that you in no way possess."
"Phooey."
"It seems we have a haunting," Giles pointed out, beginning to pace in front of his teenage cohorts. "Not surprising, considering the environment," Putting his spectacles back on, Giles turned on his heel to face the group. He took on a authoritarian tone as he began issuing orders. "Jesse, the school's archives are in the back," he pointed at the second aisle from the right, in the elevated stacks level, "um ... middle stack on the right. Look for any references to-to mysterious deaths in the particular area of the school where you, er, had your encounter. Go as far back as possible. Amy, you remember where the books on exorcism are, yes?" The girl nodded. They'd done a lot of similar research when Buffy had been possessed over a month before. Giles turned to his Slayer. "Buffy, you and Xander should continue with your training. And this time, allow him the opportunity to test his defensive postures against a-a preternaturally strong opponent. He needs to-to..." Giles trailed off when he glanced at Xander.
The young man was trying not to be too obviously smug as he kept his eyes pointed up, examining the ceiling. Giles sighed in exasperation. "Yes. And how long exactly were you going to let me talk before you rendered everything I said irrelevant?"
"But you were having so much fun!" Xander burst out with a chuckle. "Ever since I've been here you've been neglecting your Watcher-ly duties."
Giles was indignant in his response. "I beg your-"
"It's true, G-Man," Jesse input. With a glare, the Watcher showed Jesse just how much he appreciated that nickname. "It's basically been: big threat comes along, you ask Xander what's the what, we all go kill the bad things. I'm tellin' ya G-Giles," he corrected at the last second. "Xander might as well be getting your paycheck."
"Can I cast my vote for that option?" Xander asked.
"Me too!" Buffy's hand shot up. "I'd really like 'gourmet' to mean something other than TGIFriday's second most expensive pasta meal.
"And by a majority of Slayerette votes, the man in tweed is fired. I'll expect your resignation on my desk by tomorrow morning, Rupert."
In order to keep his sanity intact, Giles simply ignored their good-natured laughs. If I respond, it will just perpetuate the torture "Then what precisely are we dealing with here, Xander?"
"I don't know," Xander responded. "I kinda like hearing you guys guess. But, since that big ol' vein on Giles' forehead is about to burst, lemme just say two words: 'invisible girl.'"
"Well, at least it's not a ghost," Jesse said, then quickly added, "Not that I'm afraid or anything." Amy patted him on the hand sympathetically.
"How did she come to-to-to acquire that ... interesting ability?" Giles questioned, and everyone perked up to hear Xander's explanation.
"It's ... not a good thing," he said with a frown. "She disappeared because she was a loner that noone paid attention to. And living on a Hellmouth like we do does weird things."
"She was a student?" Amy wondered.
"Yeah. Marcie Ross. The girl everyone had a class with, but noone remembers."
"Does she have any malicious plans?" Giles wanted to know.
"Well," Xander said with a small grin. "Oddly enough, she wants to mutilate Cordelia for the end of school dance."
"So that's a no, then?" Jesse observed, with an equally devious smirk. Notable by its absence was any rebuke from Amy for his comment.
"That's kind of sad," Buffy lamented. "I mean, what worse way for everyone to say 'Hey, we don't care about you. At all.'" She turned her head to look at her boyfriend. "Can we help her? Like, can we send her to an 'Up With Invisible People' help group?"
"In a word? No," Xander replied. "Y'know the few bricks that she's short of a load? Well, she uses the ones she has left to break things. She tried kill us all!"
"Then whatta we do? Commit her?" Jesse speculated.
Xander blinked in surprise, and considered Jesse's thrown-out suggestion. "Huh," he said. "Can't believe I didn't think of that. Crazy house for the crazy person. You may have something there Jess-ter."
"And the fact that she's invisible?" Buffy asked.
"Enter the Watcher-man and his great collection of demony knowledge," Xander swept his hand around the room, indicating the many shelves worth of relevant books. "We un-whammy Marcie then ... I don't know, tie her up and drop her on the asylum doorstep."
"W-Well, before we go off and-and commit someone against their will, I suggest we concentrate on breaking whatever enchantment has befallen this girl," Giles proposed. "Then we can decide her fate."
"Goody. I always wanted to play God," Jesse piped up.
"Good," Buffy spoke up. "We've got a plan, and the end of school dance isn't for another month. It's all good," She shifted herself so that she was able to look down at Xander. "Unless there's anything else you'd like to share, Xand?"
Uh oh. I know that voice. That's 'pissed off cuz I left her in the dark' Buffy, a close relative of 'Xander's in deep dog doo' Buffy And when that scrutinizing version of his girlfriend came out to play, Xander knew that his voice couldn't be trusted.
It betrayed him again on this occasion. "W-no. I mean no. No's what I said." D'oh!
"'kay," she replied simply, as she stood up from his lap leaving a delightfully warm spot.
For a moment, Xander actually thought he'd gotten away with his stammered answer to her question. Though it is only a couple weeks away-
"Giles is right. We need to get back to training. I'll attack this time," the Slayer ordered, slipping into an appropriate attack stance right in front of him.
Uh oh again "I think we've done enough today. Right Giles?" Xander went to the Watcher to be saved from experiencing Buffy's wrath.
No help was forthcoming. Xander hadn't fooled anyone else in the room, either. "I don't see what you want me to do. I'm a simple former-Watcher, after all."
Xander laughed nervously. Who'd have thought that would've come back to bite him so quickly?
"Come on, Xand, don't be shy," Buffy grabbed his right arm and easily lifted him out of his chair. She all but dragged him to the padded mats they'd been sparring on previously, Xander struggling against her all the way. "Oh, don't be such a big baby," she teased in response to his resistance.
Xander knew he was in some serious trouble. Jesse and Amy were taking an inordinate amount of pleasure from his predicament. Giles had removed himself from the dispute by burying his nose in a book behind the circulation desk.
"Ready?" Buffy asked with a too-large smile on her face, back in her fighting posture again.
Xander was just able to make an 'n' sound before Buffy snapped off a kick aimed at his head. He was just able to get his forearm up to absorb most of the impact, and probably cause a bruise. He wasn't exactly ready to fight, though, and he stumbled over his own feet at the substantial power Buffy had laid into him with. The next thing he knew, Buffy had him on his back again. OK, that's it. It's not worth the pain "Nightmares," he groaned.
"I'm sure it is," Buffy replied. She stepped next to him and kicked her leg up straight in front of her, and right over Xander mid-section and quickly started bringing it down toward his gut.
Taking a quick, deep breath, Xander hurried out, "There's a kid that's gonna be put in a coma and it's gonna make everyone in Sunnydale experience their worst nightmares!" He heaved in another breath after he finished his breathless explanation.
Mercifully, Buffy was able to stop her leg's downward momentum about an inch away from his body. She hopped back and crouched down to help Xander up.
"You're mean," Xander complained, rubbing his forearm where Buffy had kicked him.
The Slayer winced when she noticed his discomfort. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to hit you so hard." In penance, she lifted his hurt arm and pressed a soft kiss to the spot he was rubbing. Buffy smiled as she kept tenderly attending to the underside of his arm. It was a pleasant dichotomy that the hands massaging his aches and pains away could easily snap his arm in two if she wished. "Better?" she asked in a sugary voice. Xander thought he heard Jesse and Amy rolling their eyes.
Xander mock-gasped. "Wow. The pain is gone. Not!"
Buffy lowered her voice so that only Xander could hear her. "Well, you haven't gotten your birthday present yet. Maybe that'll help." Try as he might, Xander couldn't divine her intentions. Her voice wasn't exactly suggestive, but it wasn't exactly deadpan either.
That, he decided as they returned to the table and started his exposition on the consequences of a young boy being beaten into a coma on the Hellmouth, was fine with him. I love surprises
Marcie was on another covert operation, and she was not happy.
When Amy called her laugh crazy, Marcie was a little perturbed.
When Xander called her a few bricks short of a load, the invisible girl started to silently seethe.
Marcie's breaking point was almost achieved, though, when they started talking about committing her to a madhouse. She was a hair's breadth away from grabbing that axe-spear thing in the open book cage and going to town on those, those slut bitches and their bastard boyfriends. But then Buffy and Xander had started fighting, or something, and Marcie had thought that maybe they were going to kill each other. That would've made her job easier.
Then they'd started talking about something else. Nightmares. Some kid was going to get beat up by his baseball coach What an idiotic game. Goddamn playboy pitcher too stuck up to talk to me. Bastard Marcie thought, remembering the time she'd been ignored by Sunnydale's 'star' pitcher after a game she'd watched last year. The kid gets knocked into a coma and it causes everyone's nightmares to come true.
Wouldn't effect me Marcie thought. I already am living a nightmare An invisible grin crossed her face. But they aren't...
If she weren't trying to stay covert, Marcie would have started giggling again.
* * * * *
April 25, 1997
7:50 PM
Wilkens Recreational Park
The underhand pitch floated in over the plate, its velocity barely enough to carry it to the catcher's mitt. However, as the fielding team had learned all day, this particular batter didn't allow many balls to get by him. With a solid, slightly up-angled swing of the aluminum Louisville Slugger, the softball changed its direction in an instant.
The line drive sought out the gap in left-center field, and split the two eleven-year old outfielders who ran over from their positions to chase it down. By the time one of them got their hands on it, the hitter was already halfway between second and third base. The infielders made sure to stay very far away from the charging runner. Another thing they'd learned was that this guy didn't care if someone was in his way.
It wasn't fair, really. In a league of eleven to twelve year olds, a fourteen year old ruled supreme. The mini-league rules used to disqualify such players. At least until the rich parents of a kid who'd failed three grades in his short academic career threw their weight around, and had the rules changed to build teams around what school grade the players were in. Therefore, big, dumb Chuck 'Bulldog' McAfer was allowed to play, and consistently beat up on whatever team he played.
Such was the cutthroat world of Little League Baseball.
Jesse, Xander and Willow watched from the stands, preoccupied with another less than savory aspect of the sport. They watched as the coach of the fielding team rip his hat of his head and throw it into the dust at his feet. He was yelling, but they were too far away for it to make any coherent sense.
"I don't get it," Willow said. "I mean, aren't they still winning?"
"That was the tying run, Wills," Xander explained. "And it's the bottom of the last inning, with nobody out. In kiddy league, that's pretty much means the team batting is gonna win."
"Oh," Willow frowned and slumped her shoulders. "It's a real downer knowing who's gonna win and lose before the game's even over."
"Well that's awfully defeatist of you, Wills," Jesse scoffed. "The way I look at it, is the game ain't over 'till the boo birds stop singing. See, watch," he said as a new batter approached the plate. Cupping his hands around his mouth, Jesse started chanting, "Baaaaaaaaaatter!! Baaaaaaaaaatter!! ..."
"Jesse, for the love of God, stop," Xander said frantically. "You're going to start a riot, man."
Jesse stopped momentarily to glance at Xander, then his eyes widened and his face paled when he looked down at the angry glares several pissed off parents were sending his way. "Heh, sorry folks," he said sheepishly, before getting up and finding a seat above and behind Xander and Willow, who smiled at each other before turning back to watch the game. Xander noticed that Willow stared at him a little longer than he did her. He frowned. Willow's flame for him, though significantly extinguished, still burned.
At least we're talking like old times Xander tried to find a bright spot, but it was soon dulled as well. The only reason Willow was more outgoing at the moment was that very 'old times' nostalgia he'd yearned for. The problem was his nostalgia revolved around the close mutual friendship between himself, Willow and Buffy, while she probably missed the times when it was Jesse instead of Buffy.
His girlfriend hadn't come along tonight. She'd certainly wanted to, but she'd had a previous engagement: her mother, prompted by Buffy's father's visit in a week's time, had been struck by a sudden desire for a mother-daughter weekend. Besides, Xander had said, the Slayer wasn't really needed to deal with a vengeful little league coach. Similarly, Amy and her father had developed a much closer relationship since her mother had been magicked away, and every other weekend they went out to do something fun: it was a expo one town over this time. Oz was practicing with his fellow band-members, working on their first serious song.
The 'clink' of the aluminum bat brought him out of his brooding. A cheer went up from half of the crowd below them, while the other half remained hopefully silent. The ball had been whacked into the same area of the ballpark, but the runner this time was slower than the previous one, and the ball not hit as far. As the center-fielder fielded the ball, the runner was just rounding second.
As the base-runner reached third, the thrown ball bounced into the infield. The second baseman ran over is that a number 19 on his jersey? and grabbed the ball on the second bounce. Xander felt a wave of great sadness wash over him. The kid's gonna screw up, but it's not like he's not trying Number 19 spun around and relayed the ball home, but, in his haste to get it out of his hands, the throw went very wild, well to the left and above home plate.
The opposing team's bench broke out in whoops and cheers as the winning run scored, with the occasional mean-spirited laugh at the distraught number 19's expense.
"Oh, that's so sad," Willow noted. Xander and Jesse nodded in a agreement. "Why can't they all just get along and-and shake hands like-like not-mean people do?"
"Preachin' to the choir, Wills. Remember when me and Jess couldn't make the Little League team when we were that age? I mean, even Jimmy Connoly with the gimpy leg made the team!"
"It's all just a big popularity contest," Jesse added, sour grapes seeping through into his voice.
Half an hour later, the sun had nearly set, and most of the players and their families had left to celebrate or mourn the game, and get ready for the next meeting. Only one boy, still wearing his number 19 jersey, remained, apparently waiting for someone to pick him up. Xander, Willow and Jesse also stayed, hiding in the growing darkness under the bleachers, and waiting for the badness that Xander assured them was to come.
"Billy!" a gruff voice called out into the otherwise quiet evening. The three teenagers turned toward the source, a large, shadowy figure standing beside the dugout. "Come 'ere, son."
Billy turned fearfully to the voice. Xander could see the boy trembling as he reluctantly started walking toward the dugout, looking over his shoulder, hoping to see his ride arriving. The boy was not so blessed, however, and resignedly marched toward his coach.
"What a monster," Willow said breathlessly. It seemed to be just sinking in that the horrible things that Xander told them would happen, were actually occurring before her eyes.
"Come on," Xander whispered as he stepped out from the shadows-
-and walked right into a baseball bat, swinging at his stomach.
Xander was unable to defend himself from the strike, and he doubled over as the wind was knocked out of him. He was pummeled to the ground as his back was hit three time by his attacker, who he still hadn't laid eyes on yet. One final swing to the back of his head caused him to black out, and the last thing he heard before falling unconscious was a string of chuckles he vaguely recognized from somewhere.
* * * * *
8:45 PM
When Xander woozily came back to the land of the living, he found that his ears were still ringing. Either that, or he needed to turn the ringer off on his bedside telephone the next chance he got.
"Xander! Thank God!"
Jesse? "Jesse?" he moaned as his eyes started to flutter open.
"Yeah, man, ya had us worried there for a while. You're bleeding all over the ground!"
"Whhhhy?" he wondered, the dots in his mind's eye still looking like just a bunch of dots without any lines connecting them.
"We got whacked by our invisible girl, I think. Either that, or floating bats are real, Charlie Brown!"
"What, bat? Marcie?" the puzzle pieces finally clicked together. "Why would she attack us?" Xander sat up. "And where's Willow?"
Jesse was crouched down next to him. "She's calling the gang, since she's the only one who remembers their phone numbers. She got walloped herself, but she didn't take a nap like you did. We managed to get Marcie what's-her-face to go away, but not before..." he trailed off, and frowned as he motioned with his head toward...
Xander followed Jesse's line of sight toward the dugout. Ohh ... crap He grabbed the edge of the bleachers to aid in lifting himself up and then shook out the cobwebs still obscuring his mind. Jesse followed him as he walked toward the dugout.
"I already called an ambulance," his friend told him, quietly.
He knew why, and the grisly sight that greeted him at the dugout confirmed it. Billy lay face-down on the ground, his arms sprawled out on either side of him. The boy's head rested on its side, and the half of his face that Xander could see was black and blue with bruises.
Xander let his shoulders sag as he leaned against the chain-link fence separating the dugout from the baseball field. He'd failed. Again. His scorecard was sure starting to shift to the screw-up side of the success spectrum.
"So," Jesse tried to make conversation. "Our worst nightmares, huh?"
Xander nodded. "Yup."
"That sounds like it'll suck."
"Yup."
A pause. "D'oh."
"Ditto."
End XIV
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