TITLE: "Said she'd be back"
AUTHOR: Betty Woo (lwa@rocketmail.com)
RATING: PG, non-specific reference to violence & sex in some chapters
SPOILERS: post-episode 7.3
FEEDBACK: Five by five. I don't have a beta reader for this fic, so comments about how I can improve the story are always much appreciated.
DISCLAIMER: Mutant Enemy made this universe, I'm just taking a non-profit tour.
CHARACTERS: Willow & Buffy; Spike
CHAPTER TEN - Connections
Buffy felt her palms start to tingle where they rested against Willow's. She slowed her breath gradually, matching rhythm with the slim girl across from her. Slipping into the meditative state she'd thought was so totally lame when her first Watcher, Merrick, tried to teach it to her all those years ago. So much had changed since then. There were times her power still surprised her, it was true, but she felt that she was coming to understand it more every day.
Relaxing into the posture, Buffy focused on seeing her strength as a brilliant white light, glowing inside her. Her mind cleared, nothing now but the breathing and the connection between herself and Willow. As the world faded away, she envisioned the light within her expanding outwards, pouring into her friend.
The walls of self collapsed as their energies merged. Buffy could sense Willow's pain, feel the physical wounds across her stomach. More than just the flesh injuries. She could feel her friend's confusion and fear, grief over the things she'd done and tried to do, the aching little hole where Tara used to live. For a second, she worried about what Willow might be feeling from her in return. The thought tugged at the connection between them, threatened to push them apart.
She'd missed Willow so much. Whatever she might see, whatever Buffy might have to explain after all this was done, she wasn't going to let it stand between them any longer.
Buffy concentrated on the energy, emptying her mind of conscious thought. She could sense Willow taking in her strength, directing it through her body to recreate the skin that had been stripped away. All sense of time fell away. There was nothing but now, the energy that circulated between them, glowing brightly in their minds.
Gradually, on a level that wasn't quite conscious, Buffy began to sense another presence, a thin thread of connection that shimmered unstably at the edge of her mind. Something that wasn't quite there anymore, but was still anchored to her. It flowed backwards, almost, skipping over little points here and there, thin and tenuous but growing ever stronger. And then it struck a node, a nexus, and everything flashed into brilliant white.
Sand under her bare feet. Blazing sky overhead. Willow's breathing faltered, just for a moment, jarring Buffy enough to remember where she'd felt this before.
The First Slayer. As the words formed in her mind, the energy came rushing back up the chain that had formed, blasting through all the little connection points. It struck the two girls like a hurricane, swirling up between their connected bodies and exploding outwards.
Faces flashed through her mind. Kendra, just a pale shadow of the scowling girl, then a familiar brunette. The energy linked to Faith and continued on, an unfamiliar face, then more, the power coursing through each and continuing on. Buffy could dimly sense her body trembling as the energy raced through her, building until she felt sure that that her flesh would explode before containing anything more. And there was another face now, one she knew that she'd recognize as soon as it came clear...
Then the world jerked back into focus, all sharp edges and painful light. Her hands were her own again, and Willow was muttering something not quite English under her breath. Buffy collapsed back on the bed, trying to hold the image of the strange faces in her mind, but they had vanished along with the energy.
Finally, Willow was silent. Buffy smiled faintly as her friend's head came into view, blocking out her vantage point of the ceiling.
"You okay?"
"Like I said, mediation. Bigger kick than you'd expect for just sitting around being quiet."
Willow had worry face. "Buffy, that wasn't just meditation. I don't know what it was."
Buffy groaned, stretching her arms and legs out. She had a slight cramp in one knee from sitting too long, but otherwise the strange occurrence seemed to have no physical holdovers. "I hate to say this, seeing how you just got back and all, but..."
"Research mode."
"Big time."
* * *
Spike paced back and forth along the narrow hallway. He could have sworn it was wider just a few minutes ago, but even so, he didn't pay it much mind.
Help. She'd come to him for help, and he'd helped. That was good. He didn't even stab anyone through the chest this time. For a second, he almost felt proud of himself. Until he remembered why she'd come to him for help.
"Track the blood. All about blood, she dances on it you see, but she doesn't see it yet."
Not because he was a man. Couldn't help because of that. Because he was a monster, that was how he helped her. Track the blood, kill the beasties, service the girl. She didn't want the man to help, no. Just the monster.
He'd heard them talking, her and the whelp. Wanted to put him on a leash. Bloodhound Spike, puppy dog Spike. Stupid name, dog's name.
What had he expected? That he'd tell her and suddenly everything would change? She hated him more than ever now. Not even hate. Pity. And barely that. Looked at him like a broken toy, like a dog that wouldn't stop yapping at the shadows.
Didn't matter. Couldn't help as a man, fine. Fine. Help as a monster, then. Be what she needed.
Spike pulled the wrinkled photo out of his back pocket and held it in his palm, pressing out the bent corners with his fingers. Whistler didn't know as much as he claimed to, if he didn't realize how easy it was to pick his pocket on the way back to the car. Still, there was something in the stuff that the ponce had been babbling, if only he could focus long enough to put the pieces together.
Her mouth was open. Always talking, that one, didn't know the picture was being taken. Glossy brunette hair tumbling over her shoulders, squinting a little at the sunlight. Name like Dawn, you'd think she'd have no problems looking at the sun.
AUTHOR: Betty Woo (lwa@rocketmail.com)
RATING: PG, non-specific reference to violence & sex in some chapters
SPOILERS: post-episode 7.3
FEEDBACK: Five by five. I don't have a beta reader for this fic, so comments about how I can improve the story are always much appreciated.
DISCLAIMER: Mutant Enemy made this universe, I'm just taking a non-profit tour.
CHARACTERS: Willow & Buffy; Spike
CHAPTER TEN - Connections
Buffy felt her palms start to tingle where they rested against Willow's. She slowed her breath gradually, matching rhythm with the slim girl across from her. Slipping into the meditative state she'd thought was so totally lame when her first Watcher, Merrick, tried to teach it to her all those years ago. So much had changed since then. There were times her power still surprised her, it was true, but she felt that she was coming to understand it more every day.
Relaxing into the posture, Buffy focused on seeing her strength as a brilliant white light, glowing inside her. Her mind cleared, nothing now but the breathing and the connection between herself and Willow. As the world faded away, she envisioned the light within her expanding outwards, pouring into her friend.
The walls of self collapsed as their energies merged. Buffy could sense Willow's pain, feel the physical wounds across her stomach. More than just the flesh injuries. She could feel her friend's confusion and fear, grief over the things she'd done and tried to do, the aching little hole where Tara used to live. For a second, she worried about what Willow might be feeling from her in return. The thought tugged at the connection between them, threatened to push them apart.
She'd missed Willow so much. Whatever she might see, whatever Buffy might have to explain after all this was done, she wasn't going to let it stand between them any longer.
Buffy concentrated on the energy, emptying her mind of conscious thought. She could sense Willow taking in her strength, directing it through her body to recreate the skin that had been stripped away. All sense of time fell away. There was nothing but now, the energy that circulated between them, glowing brightly in their minds.
Gradually, on a level that wasn't quite conscious, Buffy began to sense another presence, a thin thread of connection that shimmered unstably at the edge of her mind. Something that wasn't quite there anymore, but was still anchored to her. It flowed backwards, almost, skipping over little points here and there, thin and tenuous but growing ever stronger. And then it struck a node, a nexus, and everything flashed into brilliant white.
Sand under her bare feet. Blazing sky overhead. Willow's breathing faltered, just for a moment, jarring Buffy enough to remember where she'd felt this before.
The First Slayer. As the words formed in her mind, the energy came rushing back up the chain that had formed, blasting through all the little connection points. It struck the two girls like a hurricane, swirling up between their connected bodies and exploding outwards.
Faces flashed through her mind. Kendra, just a pale shadow of the scowling girl, then a familiar brunette. The energy linked to Faith and continued on, an unfamiliar face, then more, the power coursing through each and continuing on. Buffy could dimly sense her body trembling as the energy raced through her, building until she felt sure that that her flesh would explode before containing anything more. And there was another face now, one she knew that she'd recognize as soon as it came clear...
Then the world jerked back into focus, all sharp edges and painful light. Her hands were her own again, and Willow was muttering something not quite English under her breath. Buffy collapsed back on the bed, trying to hold the image of the strange faces in her mind, but they had vanished along with the energy.
Finally, Willow was silent. Buffy smiled faintly as her friend's head came into view, blocking out her vantage point of the ceiling.
"You okay?"
"Like I said, mediation. Bigger kick than you'd expect for just sitting around being quiet."
Willow had worry face. "Buffy, that wasn't just meditation. I don't know what it was."
Buffy groaned, stretching her arms and legs out. She had a slight cramp in one knee from sitting too long, but otherwise the strange occurrence seemed to have no physical holdovers. "I hate to say this, seeing how you just got back and all, but..."
"Research mode."
"Big time."
* * *
Spike paced back and forth along the narrow hallway. He could have sworn it was wider just a few minutes ago, but even so, he didn't pay it much mind.
Help. She'd come to him for help, and he'd helped. That was good. He didn't even stab anyone through the chest this time. For a second, he almost felt proud of himself. Until he remembered why she'd come to him for help.
"Track the blood. All about blood, she dances on it you see, but she doesn't see it yet."
Not because he was a man. Couldn't help because of that. Because he was a monster, that was how he helped her. Track the blood, kill the beasties, service the girl. She didn't want the man to help, no. Just the monster.
He'd heard them talking, her and the whelp. Wanted to put him on a leash. Bloodhound Spike, puppy dog Spike. Stupid name, dog's name.
What had he expected? That he'd tell her and suddenly everything would change? She hated him more than ever now. Not even hate. Pity. And barely that. Looked at him like a broken toy, like a dog that wouldn't stop yapping at the shadows.
Didn't matter. Couldn't help as a man, fine. Fine. Help as a monster, then. Be what she needed.
Spike pulled the wrinkled photo out of his back pocket and held it in his palm, pressing out the bent corners with his fingers. Whistler didn't know as much as he claimed to, if he didn't realize how easy it was to pick his pocket on the way back to the car. Still, there was something in the stuff that the ponce had been babbling, if only he could focus long enough to put the pieces together.
Her mouth was open. Always talking, that one, didn't know the picture was being taken. Glossy brunette hair tumbling over her shoulders, squinting a little at the sunlight. Name like Dawn, you'd think she'd have no problems looking at the sun.