(4/20/2017) I don't think I've ever written so much dialogue. Is it a good thing or a bad thing?

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It was two days before Dean's deal was due and they hadn't found anything new.

Bobby came roaring into town a few days after being called. Under the canvas on the back of his truck were trunks full of his supplies: phones, books, weapons, and various spell ingredients that he'd snatched up thinking they might be useful. Once they arrived at Giles' home, however, they discovered a logistics issue.

Giles' place was just too small. Both Bobby and the Watcher were used to living as bachelors, coincidentally immersed in the supernatural, and were therefore careless about space in their abodes. There was no way that Giles' piles of books would allow room for Bobby's piles of books without covering the entire floor.

The first meeting between the laconic hunter and the relatively verbose Watcher had the siblings desperately trying to hide their amusement.

"Ah!" Giles said genially. "Robert Singer, yes?"

"Bobby'll do just fine," replied the hunter as the two shook hands.

"Yes, yes of course. Sam and Dean tell me that you've been a hunter for many years now. Tell me, have things changed quite a bit since you started?"

"Not really. Monsters're out there, we kill 'em, same ol' same ol'."

The sparse answer momentarily flustered the Watcher. "I-I see. Well, I suppose you brought some extra books to research through. Do you happen to have the entirety of the Williams' Encyclopedia? I admit I've been looking for years for volumes seventeen and eighteen with no luck whatsoever."

"Nope."

"Pity, I was hoping that those were the ones that would fill in the blanks. I admit, it's quite refreshing to meet someone as well-versed in the mythology of these creatures. Did you study anywhere in particular? I hear that Harvard has turned out to be quite the resource for those looking into demonology, at least in the underground circles."

"Nope."

Giles blinked confusedly. "Really? Nowhere at all?"

"Nope. Say, is that whiskey you got there?"

"Ah, yes, scotch. Bushmill's actually. Would you care for some?"

The two proceeded to bond quickly, and less verbally, over liquor, but the difficulty presented by available space persisted. Ruby, surprisingly, severed the knot neatly by offering her own home for the hunter to live in. Agape, Buffy listened to the demon explain that she'd bought the home that Meg had once purloined and had been living several doors down from the Slayer for quite some time. Ruby assured the siblings that she'd cleaned up the other demon's mess and that the place was quite pleasantly livable.

The demon claimed to have been watching out for Buffy's well-being but no one believed her. After enduring condemnations and accusations (all of which she met with stony-eyed silence), Ruby extended the offer to both Sam and Dean. The Summers' home, while palatial, strained at the seams when Joyce was home, especially now that Dean was working literal graveyard shifts. The brothers took her up on the offer, suspiciously, and kept their gratitude over their new lodgings to themselves.

The house was bare but clean, Ruby having bought the place as an excuse to be nearby and, as a demon, had no need for food or sleep. Bobby, the three Winchester-Summers siblings, and Buffy's menagerie of friends scoured the local thrift stores and managed to find serviceable beds, couches, and kitchen knickknacks. Even Cordelia generously furnished the home by donating a year-old television; her father had apparently decided it was soon enough to get a fancy new one.

After assuring Joyce that their new lodgings were with a friend and that they would be at her daughter's beck and call, the brothers and their adoptive uncle settled in. Sam continued to work as a substitute teacher and Bobby spent his time alternatively helping other hunters over the phone and researching for a way out of Dean's demon deal.

Even though his siblings limited him to aiding Buffy on her nightly patrols, Dean actually appeared happy. The frequent vampire hunts had welcome respites in the form of a few spirits and a wayward werewolf (not Oz, but one that had strayed into town as a railway transient and hadn't expected to run into the Slayer). Even though the eldest brother grumbled about the lack of road trips and complained that his Baby wasn't seeing enough use, just the fact that he was doing what he was meant to do perked him up. The binges became far less frequent and the bed he fell into at night was more often than not his own.

But now, with his end date just around the corner, Dean's mood abruptly changed.

"Bacon?"

"No thanks."

Sitting at the Summers' breakfast table that Monday morning was Sam, Dean, Buffy, Bobby, and Joyce. Everyone but Joyce (who had presented the query and was unaware of the implications) stopped either mid-chew or with forks halfway towards their mouth.

"What?" the eldest brother asked indifferently. The others quickly resumed normal eating habits. Sam, however, eyed his brother's untouched eggs and third cup of coffee with trepidation.

After eating, Bobby stayed behind to help Buffy's mother clean up while the three siblings headed for the school. "I think Bobby likes your mom," Dean quipped.

"Wait," Buffy said, her face scrunching in disgust. "Like, like like? Or just like?"

"He sticks around your place every chance he's got. Maybe you'll get to call Bobby 'dad.'"

"Ew! No way!"

Dean smirked down at his sister. "Maybe you guys'll move to South Dakota, settle in, become real small-town folk."

Buffy let loose a small shriek. "Oh no, we are going back right now and stopping this craziness," she declared as she spun on her heel.

Sam rolled his eyes as he turned his sister back towards the school. He then turned a pensive eye towards Dean. "What's wrong?"

"Huh?" came the eloquent answer. "What're you talking about?"

The brothers took several more steps before realizing that Buffy had stopped. Both of them turned and lifted their eyebrows at her. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"About?" asked Dean.

"I'm sorry we haven't found anything."

"Hey, no no no," Dean insisted as he walked back to her. He wrapped her in his arms. "We still got time. Hell, we got days even. Don't be givin' up on me now."

Buffy clung to her big brother's sleeves and drew in a loud sniff. "Okay."

"Besides, I need to watch you fail all your finals at least once."

"Hey!" Buffy withdrew from the embrace and gave Dean a smack on the arm.

"Ow."

The Slayer made an indignant noise and continued on her way to school. A few steps in and she ended up in someone else's arms, someone decidedly neither male nor human.

Ruby and Buffy both staggered from the unintended collision. They eyed each other mistrustfully as the former rubbed her clavicle and the latter her nose. "Is there a reason you decided to stand right in front of me?" Buffy demanded.

"It wasn't on purpose," the demon replied scathingly. "Trust me." She then turned her attention towards the Slayer's brothers. "We've got a problem."

"When do we not?" Dean wondered.

"Run along, little girl," Ruby told Buffy.

"Oh no you didn't—" the teenager began as she started to lunge.

Sam grabbed his sister's elbow. "Tell Dean," he instructed. "We need to go or we'll be late." The middle sibling then dragged the youngest away without leaving room for the other two to object.

Suspicious, Dean folded his arms. "Well?"

Ruby stared petulantly after Sam and Buffy until Dean snapped his fingers in front of her eyes several times. "Hey!" the hunter barked. "I don't got a lot of time here, so don't be wasting it."

"Yeah? Well, you might be in luck. Or you might be dying early."

"Mind clearing that up?"

"Lilith is coming," Ruby said, fear tinging her words. "There's something here that got her attention."

"And?"

The demon threw her hands up. "I don't know anything more than that. The word's out that I'm working with you three idiots so it's not like I get regular updates. All I know is that she's coming." She jabbed the hunter in the chest. "Either you get her while she's here and get that stupid contract of yours nullified, or she swings by and picks up your sorry soul on her way to whatever it is she's looking for."

"And you got no idea what that is."

Ruby shook her head. "No. All I know is that it's big, it's powerful, and it's nothing good."


Giles was out at the university, having been called to help identify a relic that had been discovered on the edge of town, leaving Buffy a Slayer-free afternoon in which to study with Willow. They appropriated Sam's classroom to prepare for their algebra final the next morning. Grumbling, the erstwhile hunter made room on the large front desk by scooting over to one side.

"You could sit at one of those," Buffy offered as she pointed to one of the school's standard desk and chair combos.

With all the indignation he could muster, Sam glared. "How?"

"Oh, right, you can't because you're ginormous."

Sam rolled his eyes and resumed grading finals. After Willow patiently lead Buffy through an equation, she let her friend do one on her own. A few minutes later, the Slayer tossed her pencil down with a frustrated cry. She complained about her ineptitude and concluded with, "When am I ever going to need chemistry or history or math or the English language?"

Willow began giving her friend both encouragement and further aid while the forgotten writing utensil rolled down a binder and between the main desk and the printer table. "I got it," Sam called. When he leaned over to retrieve the item, his fingers brushed against a small, rectangular object. He brought up a dusty portable USB drive.

"What's that?" asked Willow.

"Dunno," Sam replied. "Scoot." He popped open the cover and, after the two girls had moved their chairs away, inserted the item into his laptop. "Probably something of Jenny's," he said as he tried to open the files.

"This feels really morbid," Buffy commented.

"Says the girl who spends her nights in graveyards," her brother said. "What's this? 'Restoration'?"

"Ooh!" Willow cried excitedly. "Maybe it's one of her spells? I mean, she wasn't a practicing witch but she did dabble."

Sam double clicked on the file. A homemade program came to life. It was nothing fancy, Miss Calendar having forgone function over form. Images of a scanned text, something runic, and, judging by the page's yellowed and slightly torn appearance, ancient filled the left side of the screen. Sam clicked his mouse again and a page of text appeared on the right. An automated square periodically flashed over one of the runes and a portion of the right hand words changed.

"Buffy," Sam murmured, eyes wide. "Do you see what this is?"

"Oh, boy," Willow gasped. "Oh, boy. Oh, boy."


They decided to hold conference in the library. Sam called in Bobby and Dean, and Buffy did the same with Xander and, peripherally, Cordelia. Willow wanted to invite Oz as well, but his van had apparently had a blowout. He and his band were stuck on Highway 5 in an area he fondly called "post-apocalyptic." The boy assured his girlfriend that help was on the way and that they'd keep an eye out for super mutants and deathclaws.

"She said it couldn't be done," Giles was saying quietly.

"Well, she tried anyway," Buffy said. "And it looks like it might have worked."

"So Angel killed her before she could tell anyone about it," Xander growled. "What a prince, huh?"

"This is good, right?" Cordelia wondered. "I mean, we can curse him again."

"Hold on there, girly," interrupted Bobby. He scratched under his cap as he peered at the printout Sam had made of Jenny Calendar's work. "This is some powerful magic we're talking about here."

"Between all of us we can handle it," Sam assured.

"Wait," Dean said at the same Xander snapped, "Are all of you nuts?" The two glanced at one another. Xander quickly conceded.

"Why are we talkin' about making him all better?" Dean growled.

"Yeah," Xander added. "So it restores Angel's humanity. Here's a thought: who cares?"

"I care," Buffy said quietly.

"Care about what?" Dean snapped. "A murdering monster? Don't you remember him tearing apart Jenny's uncle?"

"And Miss Calendar, too," Xander said. "All is forgiven? What is wrong with you people?"

"Curing Angel seems to be Jenny's last wish," Giles offered.

"Yeah? Well, Jenny's dead."

Furious, Giles swiped off his glasses and stormed towards Xander. "Don't you ever speak of her in that tone again!" he shouted.

Xander's equally heated response was drowned under a a chorus of objections and additives to the conversation. Sam and Dean were yelling at one another over the idea, Bobby in between trying to roar them both to silence; Cordelia was defending Xander (who was still engaged with Giles); while Willow alternatively attempted to interrupt Sam and Dean, and then Xander and Giles. Buffy was stuck standing in the middle, her hands clenched, but as she prepared to scream her objection to the scene a new voice cried out, "Will all of you shut. UP!"

Instant quiet descended. Ruby was standing at the library doorway, dumbfounded. "What the hell is going on?"

"We found a cure for Angel," Buffy replied.

"And we've got a little bit of a disagreement on what to do next," Sam added.

"Yeah? Big whoop. You guys got a bigger problem. Remember that thing I said Lilith was after?" the demon asked Dean. "I found out what it was. It's a thing called Acathla."

"You sure about that?" Bobby wondered suspiciously.

"Yes."

Troubled, Giles headed for his office. They heard him pick up his land line and dial. As the Watcher held a discreet conversation, Buffy, confused, asked, "Why is this alfalfa thing so bad?"

"Acathla," Ruby corrected caustically.

"If it's really that thing," said Bobby, "then we need to be findin' it and gettin' rid of it pronto."

"Why?" asked Sam.

"It's a portable gateway to Hell. As in, wherever it opens that spot becomes demon central."

"That seems… redundant," Willow commented. "Aren't we sitting on Hell-gate central?"

"This here's the Hellmouth. It ain't opening unless something forces it to and that something's gotta be big. This Acathla thing, though, just needs the right mumbo jumbo and you got yourself a heap of trouble."

"We've got further issues," Giles proclaimed as he returned from his office. "The university's curator is dead and the artifact is missing. Vampires."

"Are we really sure it was this Akbar thing?" Buffy asked doubtfully.

"It's a trap!" Xander cried.

"Acathla," corrected her Watcher as Dean wiped a hand over his mouth to hide a snicker. "And yes, particularly if, um… if Ruby is claiming so."

"I don't get it," Dean said. "What's the big deal? Not like this'll be the first time we've sat in front of a Hellgate. The freaking Hellmouth opened right over there!"

"The issue is its function," explained Giles. "It doesn't just create an opening; it creates a vortex. The story goes that a demon exchanged power with a coven of witches to facilitate its construction. It's unknown precisely what occurred afterwards, but the demon was subdued by a legion of knights and the object was entombed by a group of priests."

"Monks," Ruby corrected. "They were monks."

Everyone's eyes shifted to the demon. Cordelia irritably demanded, "And you know this because…?"

"It wasn't a coven, either," Ruby continued (ignoring the query). "It was a witch. Singular. And the demon didn't know what she'd intended, only that for her power he owned her soul."

"And what did this witch intend?" Sam asked curiously.

"To save someone she loved, someone that had sold their own soul in a crossroads deal to save another who'd died from the plague. The witch thought if she could construct a gate to Hell then she could go in and fight her way to the Pit to rescue him."

"And?" asked Buffy.

Ruby gave her a withering look. "What do you think? She failed spectacularly. The thing she made didn't just open a gate; it created a vacuum. She and everyone nearby were sucked straight into Hell."

"Until the, er, monks managed to trap the object," Giles added. "If someone were to open the thing now…"

"Complete and utter Hell-suckage," finished Xander.

"Awesome," Sam remarked. "And let me guess: Angelus and Drusilla are the ones that got the curator," he said, then turned to Ruby, "and Lilith's going to go recruit them or something."

"I'd assume so," the demon replied.

The group went silent as they contemplated the overwhelmingly horrific possibilities. "Fuck it," Dean finally said. "I got maybe a grand total of thirty hours left. Let's do this."

"Dean," Sam began to plead.

"Shut it! Jeeves, what do we got?"

"The curse," Buffy answered before her Watcher could form a sentence.

"And we're not straight up ganking Angel's ass because…?"

"Oh, I'll kill him," assured the Slayer. "But if I don't get there in time, or if I lose, then we need a backup."

"I want to help," Willow offered quietly. "I've been looking at this spell and-and-and I think I can work some of it."

"Willow," Sam said cautiously, "magic's not something you want to go into lightly."

"Oh I'm all about no-lightly. I'm definitely of the yes-heavy. But I'm going to do it."

"Well," Giles sighed, "I suppose we can gather ingredients and do some research into how to stop Acathla from opening."

"Any idea what the ritual is?" Sam asked Giles.

"Yes," replied the Watcher. "Let's just hope Angel doesn't."


"It's a big rock," Spike said dryly from his (now faked) convalescence. "Can't wait to tell my friends. They don't have a rock this big."

The rectangular object filled a good portion of the center of the abandoned mansion's living room. It smelled of dirt and age and something unspeakably vile. Spike dearly hoped than when Angelus' two cronies were done jacking the thing open it wouldn't be a corpse of some sort; that would just be messy.

The front fell with a tremendous crash and spread dust and debris in a wide circle. When the air cleared, Acathla stood before them in all his gargoyle-ish glory; a pock-marked demonic figure, mouth agape and arms crossed across its chest, with nothing more to suggest that it was anything but a crudely wrought sculpture. If it Drusilla hadn't begun crooning at the sight, Spike would have been glad to let Angelus know just how stupid all of this was.

"He fills my head," the female vampire moaned. "I can't hear anything else!"

"Let me guess," Spike wondered. "Someone makes with the hoodoo, the mouth opens wider, wackiness ensues."

"He will swallow the world," Drusilla sang delightfully.

"And every living creature on this planet will go to Hell," Angelus added in sadistic anticipation.

"Yay!" a child cried from the doorway. "That sounds so fun!"

Spike swiveled his chair around to face the newcomer. "Oh, bloody hell."

"Hi!" Lilith said with a wave and a grin. "Can I play, too?"


Acknowledgement : Some lines of dialogue are taken directly from the episode "Becoming, Part I" (BtVS 2.21).

Author's Note : Ruby might be talking about herself. Or her buddy next door with the dog. You never know.