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I'm British, so's my spelling. Live with it.
By Marcus L. Rowland
IX
"So this Drusilla," I say, "I guess you know her?"
"Oh yeah," says Xander, and the others nod agreement, "She's an insane vampire, sired by Angelus, sired Spike and used to hang out with him. She's powerful and psychic, and we've never been able to finish her off."
"Angel told me she also managed to become sire to Darla," says Buffy, "after Darla was bought back to life by evil lawyers. Darla made Angelus, so Drusilla's her own grandmother I guess. Or something. Kind of incestuous anyway."
"Oh... that Drusilla. Should have remembered. Yeah, I heard of her. Never met her though. Shame, she's hot."
"She's hot?" says Buffy. "Does your wooden excuse for a brain ever function at anything above groin level?"
"It's not like I have to worry about being bitten, is it?"
"Maybe that's why you were sent here," says Dawn. "A hero that doesn't have to worry about losing it with Vampirella."
"Think I'm kinda at a disadvantage in the hero department when it comes to taking on a vampire, don't you? As in I'm only two feet tall, and their hearts are usually rather higher than that."
"You could use stilts," says Xander, "or maybe a stepladder."
"So what am I supposed do once I'm up the ladder?" I ask, "this body isn't exactly built to fight vamps, in case you hadn't noticed."
"I'm gonna pretend you're not having this conversation," says the Slayer, winding the tape back for another look.
"Stab her with the stilts, of course," says Xander, and we both start laughing.
"Shh," says Buffy, "I'm trying to concentrate here." She plays the clip again. Same as before, Drusilla slaps the guy to the floor, goes to a table and picks something up, then to the front door, locks it, and closes the blind, then vamps up and finishes him off. "Okay, what do we think she picked up from that table?"
"Looked like a doll to me," says Xander, and everyone else agrees.
"I'm into their inventory," says Willow, doing something complicated with her laptop. "There are only four dolls listed, and I don't think it's the original 1959 Barbie or the 1964 GI Joe. That leaves a Victorian doll with China head or a thirties Raggedy Anne doll. What colour is the clothing?"
"A white dress," says Buffy.
"Okay, it's the Victorian doll then. Not much of a surprise. I'll try to find out where they got it."
"You think that's Drusilla's doll?" asks Xander.
"Miss Edith? Could be," says Buffy, "Wasn't really clear enough to tell, but I don't recall Drusilla carrying her the last time she was in town. Could she have come back just to find her?"
"Oh boy," says Xander, "if she did, I wonder how many she killed along the way."
"Here we go," says Willow. "They bought her at a police lost property auction six months ago. Guess they sell off stuff that's cluttering up the station house every so often. Okay, let me get into the police system... lost property... what? You morons!"
"What is it, Will?" asks Buffy.
"Remember the train with all the corpses, a couple of years back? The time Drusilla came to town?"
"Of course I do. Don't tell me..."
"Yup. Found on the train, none of the victims owned it. The idiots tagged it as lost property, not evidence."
"I sometimes think we'd be doing this town a favour if we gave the vamps open house on the police department," says Xander.
"It'd certainly raise the average IQ," says Buffy. "Even for them this is lame."
"Okay, so let's say she's got Miss Edith..." says Xander, "...oh crap."
"What?"
"Willow, could the wicked witch take over Miss Edith? We know there's a connection, could that be it?"
"I guess," says Willow, "Not like she'd have to fight a soul to get in there. Miss Edith was just a doll, right?"
"Far as anyone knows," says Buffy. "She talked to it a lot, but I never heard of it answering."
"And if she did..." Xander begins, and trails off into silence.
"Drusilla would listen, and I guess might take notice of what she says."
"Like 'kill the Slayer', maybe?"
"Or 'kill all the Slayer's friends'," Anya said gloomily.
"You realise we've just caused this, don't you?"
"How do you work that one out?" asked Buffy.
"We found the statue and released her," said Xander, "If we hadn't done that she would have been trapped in there, maybe controlling Amy's dad but how bad could that be?"
"You didn't know?" asked Willow.
"Know what?"
"He's the engineer in charge of the city reservoir water purification plant. He could kill hundreds of people, maybe thousands, if he messed things up badly enough."
"Okay, so maybe getting her away wasn't such a bad idea..."
"How can we figure out what she'll do?" asks Dawn.
"There's nothing for it," says the Slayer. "I'll have to talk to Spike."
She doesn't want any of us along, says that Spike is kinda flaky these days. Last time I heard of him he'd been a stone killer, apparently these days he'd got a chip in his head that stops him from hurting anyone, a soul, and some sort of nervous breakdown.
Turns out that Xander really did get some popcorn and rent a couple of movies, so we settle down to something called Goldmember, which Xander swears is a comedy masterpiece. About twenty minutes later I'm saying "Boy, this sucks" when there's a knock at the back door. Dawn goes to take a look, says "eek," and runs back inside shouting "Drusilla!"
"Oh, for crying out loud!" says Anya.
"She can't get in," says Dawn, "I didn't invite her."
Dawn is punching numbers into the phone to call the Slayer, and Xander is digging into a chest for weapons, while Anya and Willow go into the hall to talk to evil vampire lady. I sneak out the front and head round the side of the house, hoping she won't notice me.
"What have you done?" asks Drusilla. I guess she's talking to Willow, although I can't see her from where I'm standing. Drusilla's standing on the porch, looking furious, wearing a silky grey dress that really shows off her figure. Wow! For some reason she's still showing her human face, and she's absolutely gorgeous. In a psychotic murderous way, of course.
"Me?" asks Willow from the safety of the hall.
"You, witch. What have you done to Miss Edith?"
"I don't understand."
"She was always a good girl, now she argues and whines and tries to tell me what to do! There's the smell of witches all over her."
"Oh... I think I know what's happened, but it wasn't me that did it. Not directly anyway."
This goes on for a while, with Drusilla getting more and more annoyed. She's just not buying the idea that Willow didn't do it just to annoy her.
It's about this time I make my mistake. I've been hiding behind the log box, and I decide to look round the side of it for a better view. And slip, landing on my side.
Drusilla hears it, of course, and her head snaps round. I lie very still, pretending I'm just a piece of wood. Drusilla stalks over toward me, looking into the shadows, and eventually spots me... and picks me up.
Oh boy. She's holding me in her arms a few inches from her perfect undead bosom, and I'm trying really hard to stay dummied up. She looks at me, and she says "Whose dolly are you then? The Slayer? The witch? The little girl?"
Willow is watching from the hall, and I hope she has the sense to keep quiet about me.
"I've got your dolly," says Drusilla, "he's going to join me for tea. If you're very good and cure Miss Edith I might let you have him back. If you don't, he's firewood."
She tucks me under her arm, and runs off into the night.
To Be Continued