Part 9
The moon was full and bright as the two slender blondes made their way along the riverbank. The water lapped a short distance away from their feet, filling the companionable silence as their eyes perused the darkness. His were much better at picking out shapes and movement in the dimness, but her intuition was more highly attuned to possible attacks. In the few weeks since his return, they had fallen comfortably back into patrolling together. It was the only time they were at ease with one another.
"You getting anything?" She asked him.
He shook his head. "No. You?"
"Nada." She stopped walking and looked at the sky. "Full moon. It's possible we could encounter a werewolf."
"You know," he cocked his head to the side. "I haven't seen one of those around here for at least two years."
"Me neither, now that you mention it." She walked over to the edge of the water. He followed.
"William?"
"Hmm?"
"Your soul, when you got it...?"
"Yeah?"
"Did it... hurt?" She rushed to qualify her question. "I mean, when Angel got his, before I stabbed him, he bent over and seemed to be in pain."
His jaw clenched as he looked out across the stream. "It burned like a hundred suns."
"Oh." She picked up a rock and skipped it across the surface of the water. She couldn't see the splashes, but she heard its plop plop plop.
"Go ahead and ask me Buffy."
She put her hands in her pockets and glanced up at him. "Why did you do it?"
He grinned ruefully and uttered a dry chuckle. "For you pet. I wanted you to have what you deserved."
"What I deserved?"
"You didn't deserve to have a monster sniffing around your pants all the time, forcing himself on you, now did you?" He shook his head and dropped down to sit on the ground. She followed. "Funny thing is that I never really sussed out exactly what it would do to me."
"What do you mean?"
"After what happened at your house I could finally see myself the way you saw me. Soulless, violent, no better than an animal." He glanced sideways at her. "I really thought I would never hurt you - that I could control myself." He looked down again. "Now I know that all I ever did was hurt you."
She shifted uncomfortably. "That worked both ways." She said softly.
"Yeah. But it doesn't matter." He caught her inquisitive look. "This new thing inside of me, it has made me see what I really am. No matter what I do, I am still a beast, an abomination. You have been chosen for a higher calling. There is no room in that for a creature of darkness. I will never forgive myself for trying to pull you into that darkness."
Buffy searched for a way to respond to his honesty, but was distracted by a suction-cup-covered tentacle that had reached out of the water and wrapped itself around her leg. "William!"
"Hmm?"
"Knife!"
Before either of them could react, another tentacle wrapped around Buffy's other leg and yanked her into the river. She disappeared beneath the rolling water. William, with knife firmly in hand, dove in. His night vision served him well in the murky darkness. The beast holding Buffy looked like a huge eel with a dozen or so long tentacles protruding along both sides of its slimy body. He swam toward its head and wrapped his arm partway around it. He attempted to stab the knife into where he guessed its brain would be, but it thrashed the vampire with its tail, stunning him. He dropped the knife and it sank to the bottom.
For her part, Buffy was kicking and punching as best she could, but the water slowed her and dulled the impact of her blows. William knew that she only had a few minutes before she ran out of air. In desperation he used the only weapon he had available. His face grew hard and ridged as his long, sharp fangs emerged. He sank them deeply into the flesh behind the head of the monster and tore deeply into the tough oily flesh. The water was filled with slick, blue blood. Finally the thing went limp and rolled over. Buffy was free. She weakly kicked her feet. William grasped her under her arms and swam for the surface. They crawled up to collapse on the riverbank. Buffy choked up mouthfuls of foul, blue water. Finally she flopped over on her back and inhaled the fresh, clean air.
"What was that thing?" Buffy finally gasped.
William spat out a stream of bitter tasting demon slime. "Hell if I know!"
Buffy dissolved into peals of laughter.
"What?"
"You should see yourself!" She giggled. "You look like a skinny Smurf."
He joined in with her laughter. "I have to admit pet, you have a bit of the Mystique going for you as well."
"Ah!" She held up her arms. "I'm blue too!"
"If that wasn't the nastiest piece of piss I've ever bitten into..."
They lay side by side, laughing in the moonlight. Finally, laughter spent, she glanced over at him, admiring the new tint in his hair. "I suppose my hair is as blue as yours. Do you think this stuff will wash out?"
He leaned up on his elbow and reached out to lift the strands that lay across her forehead. He rubbed them between his fingers, his brows drawing together in thought. "It's hard to tell love, I suppose we'd better try to find out." He glanced down at her to find her eyes looking up into his.
Their smiles faded. She reached a tentative hand out to him, as if to touch his hair. He sat up abruptly, then stood. "Well then, why don't I drop you off at your house?" He reached down. She nodded and allowed him to pull her upright, then broke the contact. They silently headed back toward town.
The moon was full and bright as the two slender blondes made their way along the riverbank. The water lapped a short distance away from their feet, filling the companionable silence as their eyes perused the darkness. His were much better at picking out shapes and movement in the dimness, but her intuition was more highly attuned to possible attacks. In the few weeks since his return, they had fallen comfortably back into patrolling together. It was the only time they were at ease with one another.
"You getting anything?" She asked him.
He shook his head. "No. You?"
"Nada." She stopped walking and looked at the sky. "Full moon. It's possible we could encounter a werewolf."
"You know," he cocked his head to the side. "I haven't seen one of those around here for at least two years."
"Me neither, now that you mention it." She walked over to the edge of the water. He followed.
"William?"
"Hmm?"
"Your soul, when you got it...?"
"Yeah?"
"Did it... hurt?" She rushed to qualify her question. "I mean, when Angel got his, before I stabbed him, he bent over and seemed to be in pain."
His jaw clenched as he looked out across the stream. "It burned like a hundred suns."
"Oh." She picked up a rock and skipped it across the surface of the water. She couldn't see the splashes, but she heard its plop plop plop.
"Go ahead and ask me Buffy."
She put her hands in her pockets and glanced up at him. "Why did you do it?"
He grinned ruefully and uttered a dry chuckle. "For you pet. I wanted you to have what you deserved."
"What I deserved?"
"You didn't deserve to have a monster sniffing around your pants all the time, forcing himself on you, now did you?" He shook his head and dropped down to sit on the ground. She followed. "Funny thing is that I never really sussed out exactly what it would do to me."
"What do you mean?"
"After what happened at your house I could finally see myself the way you saw me. Soulless, violent, no better than an animal." He glanced sideways at her. "I really thought I would never hurt you - that I could control myself." He looked down again. "Now I know that all I ever did was hurt you."
She shifted uncomfortably. "That worked both ways." She said softly.
"Yeah. But it doesn't matter." He caught her inquisitive look. "This new thing inside of me, it has made me see what I really am. No matter what I do, I am still a beast, an abomination. You have been chosen for a higher calling. There is no room in that for a creature of darkness. I will never forgive myself for trying to pull you into that darkness."
Buffy searched for a way to respond to his honesty, but was distracted by a suction-cup-covered tentacle that had reached out of the water and wrapped itself around her leg. "William!"
"Hmm?"
"Knife!"
Before either of them could react, another tentacle wrapped around Buffy's other leg and yanked her into the river. She disappeared beneath the rolling water. William, with knife firmly in hand, dove in. His night vision served him well in the murky darkness. The beast holding Buffy looked like a huge eel with a dozen or so long tentacles protruding along both sides of its slimy body. He swam toward its head and wrapped his arm partway around it. He attempted to stab the knife into where he guessed its brain would be, but it thrashed the vampire with its tail, stunning him. He dropped the knife and it sank to the bottom.
For her part, Buffy was kicking and punching as best she could, but the water slowed her and dulled the impact of her blows. William knew that she only had a few minutes before she ran out of air. In desperation he used the only weapon he had available. His face grew hard and ridged as his long, sharp fangs emerged. He sank them deeply into the flesh behind the head of the monster and tore deeply into the tough oily flesh. The water was filled with slick, blue blood. Finally the thing went limp and rolled over. Buffy was free. She weakly kicked her feet. William grasped her under her arms and swam for the surface. They crawled up to collapse on the riverbank. Buffy choked up mouthfuls of foul, blue water. Finally she flopped over on her back and inhaled the fresh, clean air.
"What was that thing?" Buffy finally gasped.
William spat out a stream of bitter tasting demon slime. "Hell if I know!"
Buffy dissolved into peals of laughter.
"What?"
"You should see yourself!" She giggled. "You look like a skinny Smurf."
He joined in with her laughter. "I have to admit pet, you have a bit of the Mystique going for you as well."
"Ah!" She held up her arms. "I'm blue too!"
"If that wasn't the nastiest piece of piss I've ever bitten into..."
They lay side by side, laughing in the moonlight. Finally, laughter spent, she glanced over at him, admiring the new tint in his hair. "I suppose my hair is as blue as yours. Do you think this stuff will wash out?"
He leaned up on his elbow and reached out to lift the strands that lay across her forehead. He rubbed them between his fingers, his brows drawing together in thought. "It's hard to tell love, I suppose we'd better try to find out." He glanced down at her to find her eyes looking up into his.
Their smiles faded. She reached a tentative hand out to him, as if to touch his hair. He sat up abruptly, then stood. "Well then, why don't I drop you off at your house?" He reached down. She nodded and allowed him to pull her upright, then broke the contact. They silently headed back toward town.