Bargaining - XXV
'Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name,
But what's puzzling you is the nature of my game…'
- Sympathy For The Devil by The Rolling Stones
Buffy's hand flew to her chest in alarm. There was a distinct absence of the familiar pounding of her heart against her ribcage but despite this rather disturbing fact Buffy had yet to be effected in the slightest. She found herself sucking in unnecessary gulps of air, her fingers clutching at her throat in terror as though she might restart her dormant heart through sheer will alone.
The child hopped deftly from her perch on the swing and took a few steps towards the Slayer, her expression one of curiosity. Buffy remained seated on the bench as she wrestled with the sense of panic that threatened to overwhelm her. The stake had long since been abandoned but Buffy had entertained few thoughts of attempting to employ it against the creature anyway. Buffy was certain that any being that could still her heartbeat with a mere look would require far more than a run of the mill stake to dispatch it.
"Hello Buffy," the little girl cooed as she waggled the tips of her fingers in greeting, "I'm so pleased to finally meet you. This pleasure is all mine, I assure you."
The girl's voice was high and melodic as that of a child should be, yet somehow it carried an undertone that was undeniably chilling. Her shoulder length ebony hair was gathered into plaits that had been tied with a royal blue ribbon that served to heighten the intensity of her eyes. Her whole appearance was haunting, from her almost translucent skin to the quaint pinafore and blouse she wore.
"What have you done to me?" Buffy demanded, her body stiffening reflexively as the child drew to a halt a few paces before her. "Am I… am I dead?"
The little girl giggled, her nose wrinkling appreciatively at the apparent joke.
"Oh silly goose, no!" she replied, beginning to fidget with the hem of her skirt as she observed the Slayer. "Nothing in Hell is allowed to live. You should know that, Slayer. Everything will return to it's natural state when we are done. Cross my heart and hope to… die!"
Buffy swallowed hard as the child once more dissolved into fits of mocking laughter. The Slayer felt her anger welling but the presence of an invisible hand prevented her from acting upon it.
"Who are you? And where are we?" Buffy shouted, "what have you done with Angel?"
The girl's laughter subsided after a beat and she gazed coolly at the Slayer.
"So many questions," she lisped, pausing to toss her braids over her shoulder with an air of nonchalance that escaped many adults. "Where to begin?"
"Who are you?" Buffy growled through gritted teeth. She knew that she aught to make every effort to contain her fury since the enemy she currently faced had yet to make either it's intentions or capabilities apparent. But Buffy was filled with the odd sense that whatever this being was, it was not intending for this particular meeting to end in violence on either part.
"I have many names and indeed many faces," the girl replied, her cheeks colouring somewhat as she smiled. The gesture illuminated her features and Buffy noted for the first time that the child was really quite hauntingly beautiful.
"I don't speak cryptic wise-ass demon," Buffy spat, her fingernails digging into the edge of the bench. She blinked in surprise as a chunk of wood broke off in her hands as a result of the intensity of her grip. At least she now knew her strength had not been effected by the demon's parlour trick. The girl merely shrugged in response, the smile never once wavering despite Buffy's murderous demeanour. She was clearly as unafraid of the Slayer as a lion would be of a gazelle.
"Abbadon, Asmodai, Belial, Iblis, Beezlebub…" she recited in a state of obvious boredom. Her flawless white teeth glinted as her smile widened in an almost predatory fashion, "Satan."
Buffy stared at the figure of the child before her. Her mouth dropped open as comprehension dawned less than a second after the final name had spilled from the girl's lips.
"No, you can't be, that's just not… not possible…" Buffy stammered, reluctant to believe the gravity of the revelation, "you're just a child."
"Call me Lucy if it helps," the girl replied with a shrug. "I am what you perceive me to be, Buffy. I take whatever form is required of me at the time. Humans are so… predictable in their preferences; to a lonely, unattractive housewife, I am the handsome stranger who hangs on her every word; to a dying soldier on the battlefield, I am the cavalry come to lend a helping hand; and, to a vampire slayer born to protect all that is good and pure, I am the very picture of innocence."
"And so this is…" Buffy whispered, sweeping her hand across the expanse of the playground and swallowing hard. She failed to quash the lump that had risen in her throat and so instead chose to use the feeling of discomfort to ground herself.
The child, Lucy as she had sardonically referred to herself, nodded once.
"You see what I wish you to see. This setting was the one that served my own means best."
"Why am I here?" Buffy hissed, leaning forwards in her seat and grinding her teeth together to keep from fruitlessly launching herself at the child, "where is Angel?"
"You are here because of Angel," Lucy replied, her tone suddenly growing cold where it had once been sunny. Buffy froze, unsure of the meaning behind the response she had received.
"Angel has been quite the naughty boy," Lucy persisted, beginning to pace the ground before the bench, her head bowed and hands interlaced behind her back. "I thought for a while he had managed to slip through the net and gotten himself staked or decapitated before I could collect what's rightfully mine. I was most pleased to learn from Cerberus that he was in fact alive in the city… just waiting for his Slayer to come. You see, everything down there was all because of him. If he had just stopped skulking around in the shadows then this all could have been resolved months ago."
"I don't understand," Buffy faltered, her brow furrowing, "what's rightfully yours?"
Lucy paused, turning to regard Buffy with an infuriating smirk.
"Indeed," Lucy answered tartly, "when Angel waved his right to the fulfilment of the Shan-Su prophecy, he apparently failed to realise that he was actually signing away his soul… to me."
"The what?" Buffy demanded, now beginning to struggle against the invisible bonds that held her. Something in the creature's tone evoked a deep sense of desperation within her and Buffy suddenly felt helpless against the instinctual reactions of her own body.
Lucy chuckled and shook her head, "Yes, you never did know that Angel was to be granted his humanity one day. A reward for atoning for his crimes. But he signed all this away to save his pathetic city. It appears that a life with you at his side didn't mean quite as much as he doth protest."
Buffy growled savagely, straining now to move her body more than an inch away from the bench she appeared to be held fast to. Lucy did not even flinch.
"No, he wouldn't," Buffy screamed, her arms flailing desperately at the air, "you can't do that, you can't have his soul."
"Oh but Angel's soul has always been bound for damnation," Lucy hissed, moving with sudden inhuman speed to plant herself directly before the Slayer. She leaned forwards so that the tips of their noses were almost touching, and Buffy was suddenly and inexplicably still despite her continuing urge to fight.
"From the moment he was born into this world, that boy's been destined to walk the wrong path. It doesn't matter how many lives he saves now or how many bad guys he slays, Angel will never truly escape his destiny. He's a monster even without the parasite that squats in his pitiful husk."
"No, no, no!" Buffy shrieked, unable to do more than writhe in her seat as she was subdued with such ease it was almost embarrassing.
"I am afraid the contract has already been signed in blood," Lucy said, shrugging in a very matter of fact fashion. She paused momentarily as though considering some new option that had only just occurred to her, and then returned her attention once more to the Slayer.
Buffy fell silent, awaiting the bait that she felt sure was about to be dangled before her.
"Unless," Lucy drawled, running the tip of her index finger across the peak of Buffy's cheekbone, "that is, you are willing to make with me a new deal? One that better serves all who are involved."
Buffy swallowed hard and cast her eyes downward.
"I see you are willing to listen at least," Lucy crooned, clapping her hands together in a display of childlike delight. Buffy shuddered, suddenly more repulsed than assuaged by the childish form.
"You want my soul," Buffy stated, unwilling to draw out the pretences any longer than necessary. However, much to her surprise, Lucy blinked in confusion and shook her head with a vehemence that caused a wisp of dark hair to escape its confines.
"I would have thought that you knew such things are beyond even me," Lucy said, her lip curling distastefully, "not even I am powerful enough to harvest the soul of a Slayer. You are an ultimate force of good and the destiny of your spirit was written centuries before your birth. There are some forces in the universe that not even the Devil can argue with."
Buffy remained motionless and mute, patiently waiting for the demon to continue.
"What I propose is this, Slayer," Lucy said, a smile beginning to weave its way once again across her face. "I will spare Angel and allow you his soul in return for that of another. An eye for an eye if you will. The next being you hold in your heart with real love who falls at the hands of the supernatural will take his place, and you will live out the rest of your days knowing that you were the one who damned them to eternal torment."
"What?" Buffy uttered, her voice escaping in a barely audible gasp that seemed to encourage new delight in Lucy's features.
"It's the closest I will ever come to seeing you in Hell, Slayer," Lucy jeered, her pupils clouding over with a black ink that had dissipated as soon as it had appeared. Buffy shuddered involuntarily and Lucy sighed. The demon pulled away and reached into the pocket of the pinafore from which she produced an hourglass no bigger than her palm. Buffy eyed the item suspiciously, although it appeared to harbour no obvious sinister properties. The grains of grey sand contained within the glass sparkled like minute diamonds in the pathetic light that filtered through the clouds.
"You have until the last grain falls to decide," Lucy chirruped, raising the hourglass above her head in order to display it more clearly to Buffy. The Slayer was suddenly struck by the size of the object and found herself wondering exactly how many individual grains had been afforded to her decision.
Buffy could only watch in quiet reflection as the glass was turned on its end and placed upon the bench at her side. Finally, the grains of sand began to fall in unison with her silent tears.