It All Ends Sometimes...Part 5
Disclaimer: Buffy and all associated characters are the property blah blah blah of Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon and a bunch of people I've never heard of...in a nutshell, they aren't mine; I'm just playing with them. And, might I add, I'm not making a red cent off of this...I'm writing this for fun and for others to read for free entertainment. And if I make a mistake with anything Wicca, no offense is intended...just blame http://www.mysticalmother.com. I got most of my information on the items from their website. The ritual is all mine. Lyrics included in this piece from Disturbed, Godsmack, and Sarah McLachlan. Used without permission.
It was a good cigarette.
Rolled and cut by the mechanical device at the factory, it found itself placed into a package with nineteen others just like it. Sealed away, it traveled the country until it ended up in Sunnydale, California. Quietly, it sat on the shelf in anticipation of the day it would re-emerge into the light. That day was today.
Moments earlier, a hand extracted it from its pack and placed it between the lips of some bloke that nominally mistreated the other cigs in the pack. Most of them were bent by the time he removed them, if not outright crushed. But, it was lit and drawn on like a cigarette should be.
One problem presented itself though. No sooner had he been placed between the lips of the blond man, he'd been unceremoniously dropped to the ground, forgotten and gone for good. He really was a good cigarette.
Was.
Spike the Bloody stood open mouthed, his dropped cigarette cleanly forgotten when confronted by the leering vampire before him, the former Willow Rosenberg.
"Gee, Spikey…you seemed happy to see me a minute ago. Need Viagra after all?" The redhead stroked his withered crotch, her pink tongue snaking out to lick the rest of Nina's blood from her lips. She placed a hand next to Spike's head on the pier piling, leaning in close to brush her lips near his own, knowing the scent of human blood, fresh and full of sexual hormones, would be painfully enticing to the British vamp.
Regaining some of his perpetual cool, Spike inhaled deeply, the scent of the blood making his head swim and knees weak. Opening his eyes, he fixed a hard stare at Willow. "Not at all, ducks. Me Mate gets up well enough for the right person." He smiled a hard, baleful grin at her. "Not a skanky vamp witch bitch like you." His satisfied grin began to fade into uncertainty as he registered the fact of the other vamps beginning to work their way around and behind him. He turned his gaze back to Willow and felt icy fear crawl up his spine. She did NOT appear to be amused.
Willow's face morphed into her game face, her smoothly curved cheeks and forehead giving way to the ridged angles of her vampire alter ego. She gestured to one of her minions, a lovely young girl of Asian descent, calling her over. The Master vampire whispered into her ear, provoking a smile from the girl. She reached up to stroke Spike's face as Willow whispered to her, then moved behind him, suddenly grasping his arms and pinning his back to the pylon.
Surprisingly, Spike couldn't break free. Even though he was well over 200 years old, this fledgling was easily holding him immobile, effortlessly restraining his best attempt to get loose. His cockiness was nearly gone now, the first tendrils of real fear beginning to creep in. "So," He quipped, his tone flip and easy. "We're going to play a party game, right? I love party games. What are we playing?"
Willow strode over to another pylon and spoke a single word. At her gesture, a metal rod of about 9 inches in length leapt from the wood and into her hand. Another word uttered, and the spike lost its blunt tip, becoming sharper than a tack. She strode back to Spike and called another girl forward. "My friend here is rather creative. Her name is Italia, but we call her Tali for short." Willow handed her the spike. "Spike, you've heard of 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey', right?" She gestured towards the male vampire, and suddenly he was facing the pylon, his hands somehow still held by the Asian girl, his back now to Willow and Tali. "Well, Tali is going to play a little variant of that. She calls it, 'Pin a Tail on the Jackass'." She tangled her fingers into Spike's short hair, pulling his head viciously back to hiss into his ear. "And guess who the Guest of Honor is."
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"Wishes, Tara?"
Buffy stared, her sculpted eyebrows arched skyward with incredulous disbelief. "As in, you make a wish, and it's granted, 'make a wish'?"
Tara smiled and bobbed her head, eager to explain her plan. "Yes, but it can't by itself. We have to actually find the other six balls. See, there are seven in all, and..."
Buffy held up her hand to stop Tara before she rambled too far. "Wait, we have to find six more of these things? Where are they, Tara?"
Tara blinked owlishly, briefly flustered by the Slayer's question. "Well, I have some good clues to most of them, and one of them is already on the way here." She smiled and tilted her head, her trademark "I'm happy" head flip. "I found it on eBay."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "On eBay. What if it's not real?"
Tara patted her arm, reassuring her. "Oh, it's real. I got it from the same pagan we got the Orb of Thessulah from when we re-cursed Angel with his soul." She nodded in satisfaction. "She's legit."
Buffy grimaced. "So, we effectively have two of these things. What about the other five? Where are they?"
Tara's face fell slightly. "Well, I have leads on two. I haven't been able to reach Giles, but I think he could help locate some more."
Downstairs, a knock sounded on the door followed by its opening and admitting two people, Xander and Anya strolling in. Upon seeing the trio of women at the head of the stairs, they began walking up to meet them. "Hi guys!" Xander greeted. "What's up and what is that?"
Anya peered at the ball. "Oh, you have a Dragonball. I have the four-star ball at the shop."
Buffy and Tara stared at her in open-mouthed shock. "You WHAT?!"
Anya drew back. "I said I have one at the shop. I've been using it as a paperweight."
Everyone stared.
Anya looked at them. "What?"
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Spike hobbled along the beachfront, his hand behind his back on his bloody jeans, the black denim punctured with numerous holes. Every step he took shot shards of pain from his butt to his feet, rivulets of blood trickling down his legs. Each of the vampire witches at the beach had taken a turn at him, pinning a piece of rope to his body with the metal pin Willow extracted from the pier piling, laughing with glee at the pained expressions each violent piercing produced. At the end, his body weak from pain and blood loss, he'd passed out for the last two. It was Willow, a sharpened piece of driftwood in hand, who had awakened him, shoving the three foot long wood into his chest and narrowly missing his undead heart by a mere centimeter or two. The last image he registered before passing out again was the purest, blackest, most evil grin from the lovely face of the former Willow Rosenberg. That and the paper attached to the stake in his lung.
"Spike, thank you for the lovely evening. The girls and I had a blast with your ass."
-Willow
It was written in his own blood.
Somehow, Qwerty found the whole thing vastly amusing when he untied Spike and poured whiskey over his wounds. Spike reminded him, teeth gritted in pain, that vampires didn't get infections, but Qwerty merely shrugged and smiled, mumbling something about it being the "thought that counted".
Spike shook his head at the memory and continued hobbling into the sewer entrance, heading below ground and homewards to his crypt. A furtive glance over his shoulder showed the barest beginnings of orange seeping above the horizon...
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Dawn turned away from the kitchen table where Anya was sulking, sullen and morose at giving up her dragon ball. The former vengeance demon had groused mightily at giving up the mystic orb, but did so at her fiancé's insistence. Dawn smiled, remembering Anya's argument from earlier that the orb's use as a paperweight notwithstanding, it was still valuable and its use was just a matter of expediency…until the right buyer came along. Tara and Buffy made sure to thank her profusely, promising payment of some kind for her troubles.
Earlier bargaining aside, the fact remained the Scoobies now had two dragon balls in their possession, and a third ostensibly on the way. Basic arithmetic told Dawn that only four now remained.
"Anya, you've been around longer than any of us. How hard is it to get all 7 balls?"
The young woman lifted her chin from her hands and looked at the Slayer's little sister. "Hard? I remember it happening once about 450 years ago, and the guy that got them took 60 years to find them all. He died making his wish. I think Shen Long scared him to death."
Dawn scrunched up her pixieish face. "Shen Long? What's that?"
"Not what, 'who'." Anya corrected. "Shen Long is a 'who'. A very big, terrifying who. Shen Long is the mystic dragon that appears when you get all 7 balls together for a wish." She shuddered. "Once is enough for my lifetime." She leaned forward to peer into the teens face. "He's as long as a dozen football fields, from his fire breathing snout to his spiked tail. His eyes glow red, and his voice fills the sky from horizon to horizon, shaking buildings and knocking over trees…he's eternal; imbued with the power of a god, he's also very, VERY impatient."
Dawn stared wide-eyed, her mouth hanging open. Anya sat back in smug self-satisfaction, thoroughly pleased at stunning the teen. Her pleasure was short lived however, when Dawn's face abruptly cracked into a huge grin. "COOL!"
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Two days later….
Willow Rosenberg walked around the circle of vampires, smiling, touching, and murmuring into the ears of a select few creatures. Finally, she strode to the center of the circle, taking her position at the central focus point, the point that the other foci would soon channel their energy to. At each cardinal point of the compass, a trio of witches sat facing each other in a triangle, hands holding objects of power with eyes closed, chanting low and intently. Quietly, she turned to face the trio to the North. The three witches there were each dressed in robes of black, brown, and dark green. One held a glowing pentagram in her hand; another held a smooth stone, while Aki, the Asian girl from the beach, chanted in a low monotone. Willow nodded in approval and began a chant of her own.
"Power of the Earth, I entreat thee…grant me strength. Ground me and cause me to grow and prosper."
The earth began to tremble beneath her feet. Slowly she turned, as in a dream, to face the triad at the western cardinal point. The three vampires there were dressed in robes similar to the northern ones, but their colors were somewhat brighter, in shades of blue, green, and grey. The one in green was stirring a viscous liquid in a cauldron, a smoking concoction of crystal clear opacity. With a nod of satisfaction, she stopped stirring and allowed the blue clad vampire to draw some out into a chalice before offering it to Tali, the chanting witch in grey.
"Power of the Water, I beseech thee…grant me flexibility. Flow through me and control my emotions and spirit."
A fine mist began to flow from the trio towards her, enveloping her in a fog. Turning south, she faced the red, orange, and fuchsia clad witches gathered about a crackling fire. This trio was chanting over a long staff and a shorter, intricately carved wand. Nina, the third witch in the triangle, clasped a crystal embedded in the end of each, muttering a counter-chant to the rhythm of the other two.
"Power of Fire, I implore thee…grant me power. Cleanse and purify me of distraction, focusing my will and desire."
Tendrils of flame began to trail from the fire toward Willow, mingling with the mist and surrounding her, bathing her in mystic light. Turning to the last point, she opened her arms and allowed her own robe to fall to the ground, leaving her naked but for the Athame in her hand. The light breeze that whisked through the trees began to build in intensity as the trio to the east increased the strength of their chant, their yellow, white, and pastel robes billowing out from the wind. Rebeka, the leader of the eastern triad, chanted sibilantly, the sword in her partner's hands vibrating as smoke from the two censors held by the third vampire wrapped it in sensuous circles.
"Power of the Air, I pray thee…grant me knowledge. Open my mind and release me from my boundaries!"
As the last words left her mouth, all four points surged in power, the tendrils of flame becoming an inferno, the mist a deluge; the wind became a hurricane and the tremors beneath her feet became an earthquake. Raising her arms to the skies, both hands clutching the Athame, Willow Rosenberg shouted to the roiling clouds above her.
"Powers of Darkness, come to me! Take these sacrifices and release their power! Bend to my will; become my Servant!"
Lightning sliced down from the clouds, striking and instantly consuming the two witches in each triad holding items, the items themselves glowing and arcing with the power surge before sending the power through each of the remaining witches. Each of the four remaining witches vibrated and twitched under the onslaught, yet turned as one to face Willow in the center, the power spilling from them and converging on Willow. As the streams met, the lightning from the sky surged down again, striking with fury down on the raised Athame, coursing down its length and into the arms of the Master vampire and witch. Willow began to smile, and then laugh, eyes dancing with glee and drunk with power. Finally, the electrical lightshow ceased, dropping all five to the ground into smoking heaps. After several moments, Willow rolled over, breathing hard, her eyes solid black orbs now shot through with crackles of blue and gold. Catching her breath, she stayed on her back as the remaining four witches, her closest lieutenants, crawled over to join her, their robes mostly ripped away, hair still smoking. Aki, Tali, Nina, and Rebeka collapsed on and around her, also breathing heavy and taxed to their limits from the incredible event.
Willow nuzzled the two closest to her, Tali and Nina, her exhaustion giving way to arousal. Somehow, for some reason, encounters with power such as she had just experienced made her very, very horny. She pulled both vampires into a wet, tongue battling kiss as Aki and Rebeka began to work on her nipples and belly, their hands running over the bodies of Willows kiss mates.
Willow purred and exclaimed. "Oh, yes….YES."
She giggled, the giggles giving way to full, deep throated laughs punctuated with husky moans...
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*Drums begin playing a primal rhythm in the background…*
The Slayer came up from her stretch, sinuously and slowly, angling her head and eyeing the heavy bag.
A slow smile began to form on her lips, her eyes dancing with a predatory gleam…
*A choppy, distorted guitar joins the drums...
"Do you feel that..?"….*
Buffy rolled her head on her neck as the music began to increase in volume. She dropped back, settling into a fighting stance known in Kenpo as a left Forward Bow.
*Guitar #2 joins in, finally exploding into the beginning of the song*
The Slayer exploded in time with the song, using a flurry of Kenpo-style assaults and hammering the bag with blows capable of breaking bone and concrete. On the bag's backswing, she nimbly dodged and covered out, allowing it to move past her before brutalizing it with more lethal combinations.
"Drowning deep in my sea of loathing
Broken your servant I kneel
It seems what's left of my human side
Is slowly changing in me"
Switching to a style more reminiscent of Krav Maga, she began to increase the brutality of her attacks, blows changing from maiming to those intended to kill.
Unknown to Buffy, a shadow attached itself to the wall out of sight, a lone figure with peroxide blonde hair. Spike watched from the shadows, longing filling his eyes as his Slayer worked out her tensions. His Slayer…
"Looking at my own reflection
When suddenly it changes, violently it changes! (Oh no)
There is no turning back now
You've woken up the demon in me"
Spike smiled as he recognized the lyrics from Disturbed's "Down with the Sickness". How often had he empathized with those words? Tortured by his feelings for the Slayer, he could well see himself kneeling before her, a broken being in pain. He could think of worse things in his unlife than being a servant to the Slayer. If only SHE would agree.
Meanwhile, Buffy continued to mercilessly beat the bag, working through the rest of that song, then moving on to the rest of her compilation CD. Towards the end, the music slowed to a more methodical beat, the less frantic pace allowing her to be more precise and controlled in her attacks.
"There's nothing to me now, an empty shell unfolded
How, when we learn to pray inside our demons are laughing
How long will this go on? Are we a bit much stronger?
Do you think you can save me from living this way?
The eldest Summers methodically worked through several forms, delivering blows to the practice bag and hanging dummies, or uki, until they were all swinging in mad circles. Taking the opportunity, she switched yet again from methodical to improvisational, applying her acrobatic and gymnastic tumbling skills from cheerleading with her hand to hand skills to continue pummeling the targets.
Spike felt a stirring in his groin as he watched, the fluid movements of the Slayer coupled with her ruthless brutality intoxicating his senses. Absently, he reached down and began to lightly stroke himself through his jeans, his eyes never leaving the subject of his passion and lust. The words of the song merely served to increase his conflicted desires, reminding him just how far out of reach she truly was.
"I don't know how to love, I just know how to live.
All I feel is hate…will you forgive me?
For all those things I've done, they keep on creeping by me.
And though we've changed our ways, still all our demons are laughing.
How long will this go on? Aren't we a bit much stronger?
I'd like to think you've come into my life to stay"
The British vampire grimaced at the lyrics. Damn her…why did she pick that gobsmacked Godsmack for this CD?? Spike saw way too much of his feelings and life in the lyrics, but couldn't tear himself away from Buffy long enough to leave the pain the words evoked. He may have been a bloody awful poet himself at one time, but words still held a powerful sway upon his psyche. After all, he couldn't say "soul". Whatever it was he had, it wished that night in her bathroom had never happened…
"I don't know how to love; I just know how to live.
All I feel is hate…will you forgive me?
I don't know how to breathe with you too far away.
I don't know how to love…will you forgive me?
No, I can't live this way!
I don't know how to love; I just know how to live.
All I feel is pain…will you forgive me?
I don't know how to breathe with you too far away.
I don't know how to love.
Past lives I've lived, uncontrolled but sacred.
You've finally seen all that's left of me.
So hard to see…so hard to breathe…
Will you forgive…me?
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Buffy found it difficult to concentrate during her workouts lately. Like right now. She discovered that different styles of music greatly lent themselves to working out, helping her rhythm and flow, but the songs Dawn helped her choose on this latest CD didn't help her mind to clear itself. Instead, she found her mind cluttered with thoughts of Spike. Spike. Why could she NOT forget the vampire? And why, she mused, could she not find a lover that was at least alive? Riley was alive, her inner voice chided. Grimacing, Buffy fired right back. "He had a pulse…'alive' is subjective, yes?"
First Angel, now Spike…welcome, boys, to the Slayer Hall of Shame! She thought. Another grimace crossed her features as she found her concentration slipping. She inhaled deeply and exercised a control her former Watcher would've been most proud to see. Focusing her mind, she pushed the thoughts of Spike and his body from her mind and moved into several Tai Chi forms, meditating and calming her spirit. Her breath caught as the next song began, but she forged on, determined to not be pulled away. Pulled away…
Spend
all your time waiting for that second chance,
for a break that would make it okay.
There's always some reason to feel not good enough,
and it's hard, at the end of the day.
I need some distraction, Oh, beautiful release.
Memories seep from my veins.
Let me be empty, Oh, and weightless, and maybe I'll find some peace tonight.
In
the arms of the angel, fly away from here,
from this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you feel.
You are pulled from the wreckage, of your silent reverie.
You're in the arms of the angel, may you find some comfort here.
So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn,
there's vultures and thieves at your back.
The storm keeps on twisting, keep on building the lies
that you make up for all that you lack.
Don't make no difference, escape one last time.
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness,
Oh, this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees.
It was still hard to be sister, mother and Slayer. So much of her soul seemed empty and unfeeling since she was pulled from the arms of her own angels. Going from that to waking up in a stinking coffin buried beneath six feet of clay and dirt wasn't something high on her list of favorite things. The stench of her own decaying body was so thick in the coffin…her friends couldn't have her embalmed. They might as well have put up a flashing billboard advertising the Slayer was dead. It's amazing how much a body can decompose in three months.
Buffy shuddered at the memory. Spike had understood part of her ordeal; she would never admit that to him, but she appreciated that simple fact. What she REALLY could not say though was that he could NOT understand the entire ordeal. In spite of what he said, he laid in his grave a bare day before clawing his way out…and didn't need to breathe during the process.
Spike.
Why does it keep coming back to him? The Slayer wondered. As she finished her Tai Chi, the last bars of the Sarah McLachlan song faded out to find her in a lotus position on the floor. Her back erect and eyes closed, she concentrated on her breathing, taking in breaths slowly before releasing them in an even slower manner. She expanded her awareness, focusing her senses the way Giles showed her, using them, channeling them, bringing them into a sharp awareness beyond that of normal everyday living. Finally, her mind fell into a state of perfect serenity and calm she only experienced once before and had striven to achieve again ever since. As her mind cleared, her awareness abruptly exploded; her Slayer sense raced as it fed from the sensory input her human senses channeled it into. Instantly, she became aware of Spike's presence. Absently, she noted that his presence didn't affect her in the slightest. Smiling, she stood.
"Spike, come here and blindfold me."
The British vampire's spine chilled and short hairs rose on his neck. The Slayer exuded a presence she never exhibited previously. Bollocks, how did she know? He stepped forward and picked up the long sash Giles used on her for blind fighting drills. Moving behind her, he felt the preternatural calm and awe filled him; she was POWERFUL, his Slayer was. She was aeons beyond what any Slayer before her had ever been. She achieved a new level, and he felt privileged. He was the first to see this new creature, a Slayer like none before. For a fleeting moment, William the Bloody experienced relief that this Slayer no longer wanted him dead. Hell, he didn't even have a smart assed comment ready.
Firmly, he pulled the knot on the sash tight. He stepped back and around to her front, eyeing her quizzically. "What now, pet?"
Buffy smiled again, wonder filling her. Her understanding was so full, so alive, so aware…she could almost "see" the vampire before her, blindfold notwithstanding.
"Now? Attack me." She made no move, assumed no ready stance.
Spike arched an eyebrow. "Fight you? Luv, you can't fight like that. I've watched your Watcher beat you silly in these drills before, and I'm much tougher than that poof."
Buffy merely smiled. "Attack me." Buffy sat down, resuming her lotus position.
Spike shrugged. "Your funeral." Disdaining further words, he simply shot a lightning fast kick at the Slayer's head, thinking to end the whole farce quickly and decisively. To his utter astonishment, that blond head was no longer there. In fact, the body normally attached to it wasn't there, either.
Off to the side, Buffy was seated in the same lotus position as before, but somehow five yards away and to the side. She merely smiled before softly speaking. "Sure about that?"
To be continued