SUMMARY: Spike gets a new toy he wasn't expecting, and Willow finds out that life--and Gods--can sometimes throw humans for a loop.
TITLE: Order Now
AUTHOR: sinecure
RATED: R
PAIRING: W/S (4/?)
DISCLAIMER: Joss and ME own BtVS, I don't, and the way these past seasons are going, I'm glad I don't.
DEDICATED: To Claudia, because, not only is she the best beta ever, but she's also quite the friend. She kicks ass on grammar--just call her the Hyphen Queen, I do--spelling, characterization, plot. She makes my job a whole hell of a lot easier... even when she's killing my poor little defenseless plot-babies. ;)
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PART 4
Spike and Willow walked in silence for a ways, each lost in their own thoughts.
Willow had thoughts of human pets dancing in her head. Did vampires really do that? And did they get the studded collars to wear around their necks, perhaps one of those half-sweaters that dog owners got for their-- or, just naked. Walking around naked while the vampire did what? Made it do tricks?
She giggled at that, picturing Harmony leading a human around by a diamond collar with a silver chain attached to it. And no clothes, or maybe one of those poodle sweaters. Oh, and a small pink bow in their hair. Harmony always was about appearances. She'd make the human crawl around on all fours and roll over. Maybe sit up and beg... okay, not so funny anymore.
Images of crawling around on the floor, filthy and bleeding, naked but for the collar attached to her neck, being forced to do stupid human tricks was now foremost in her mind. Being beaten and bit when she tried to escape.
She started to panic, wondering if that girl in Spike's crypt was his pet. If he had her chained up there, forcing her to stay when all she wanted to do was go home.
But, no, the woman hadn't sounded like she wanted to leave. Her imagination was just working overtime, that was all.
Spike sighed beside her, tossing her an irritated look. "Is that a plan you came up with? Speed your heartbeat up and get all that hot..." he paused, closing his eyes for a brief second, "hot blood of yours pumping to tempt the vampires into trying to snack on you?" He swallowed thickly, once again looking at her like she was a tasty treat.
"Hey, I'm not a hot sticky bun, so stop looking at me like that." She sidled away a little, trying not to look frightened. It was true, Spike still scared her. He was evil, what could she say? All that unrestrained evilness-- well, now it was restrained really, but that just made it all the worse. One day that chip wouldn't be there, or would stop working and he would do what he constantly threatened to do, bathe in their blood.
And she'd like to avoid that, please.
"A hot sticky bun," he mused, chuckling in surprise, "I haven't had one of those in months. With the frosting and cin--"
"Cinnamon!" she agreed, laughing and nodding. "The Espresso Pump has the *best* sticky buns. Mm. To die for, only, you know, not in the actual dying kind of way." She was getting hungry just thinking about them. Maybe after patrol she'd swing by the Pump and pick one up. And a cup of coffee. No sticky bun was complete without the coffee. "You should try them. And the coff..." realizing who she was talking to, who she was discussing food with--the very person who was at that moment probably imagining her as food--she trailed off with a shrug.
"And the what?" he asked, not noticing her sudden uneasiness. There was genuine interest on his face. No smirking, no taunting, just a normal conversation that was going on between two oddly matched beings.
She gave him a small, nervous head shake, grasping the stake tightly with both hands. "Oh, um, they have this coffee that-- that goes perfect with them. With the sticky buns." She nodded and smiled quickly, just a showing of teeth and then it was gone.
His back straightened and he nodded, his narrowed eyes watching her with disappointment. "Right. I should try that some day." His pace sped up, his strides growing wider, quickly leaving her behind.
Again with the disappointment. Why did he keep looking at her like that? Like she'd done something wrong. Something he hadn't expected her to do, or had hoped she wouldn't do. Well, what was that? She wasn't being mean, just nervous.
And really, she couldn't help that she was afraid of him, she just was. Although, talking about sticky buns with a guy didn't really lead to scary thoughts. Maybe it was because she didn't know him well. His time around her was spent trying to kill her, and that wasn't a pastime that led to getting to know one another.
The rest of his time was spent trying to kill her friends. Or it used to be. Now it was spent taunting them. And following Buffy around. Pestering her. Bothering her. Annoying the holy heck out of her.
Still, that was no reason for her to be rude to him. Well, actually it was, but she could be the bigger person and take the higher road.
She sighed heavily, catching up with him. "Sorry. I'm sorry, it's just that... well, you scare me." Nodding at his incredulous look, and then ignoring his prideful look, she shrugged, not sure how to explain it. "When you tried to kill me in my room? Wow," she said seriously, feeling a residual tremor of fear slither down her spine, "I have never been more frightened in my life. Before, or since."
"Really," he said skeptically, frowning in her direction. "I find that hard to believe."
"Really," she assured him. "Although, don't get me wrong, the kidnaping thing was way scary too, with the sniffing and the 'not having had a woman in ages' comment, believe me, it was ultra-scary." Feeling a little better getting it off her chest, she poured it all out there for him, telling him exactly why she wasn't too fond of him. She smiled a little, thinking that was an understatement. "But, what scared me most was that... for a split, split--very minute--split second, I thought about just letting you kill me. I thought, hey, it couldn't be any worse than the constant pain of Oz's betrayal."
Those were thoughts she hadn't even admitted to herself before now. She was just as shocked as Spike was at the admission.
"You wanted to die?" he scoffed, shaking his head as he paused to light a cigarette. "No, can't see it. There's too much life in you." He snapped his lighter shut with a click, squinting at her through the smoke. "You're the one with the pep."
"Well, I was pretty much pep-less then." She frowned at the memories pushing their way forward, forcing her to remember the pain and anguish. "I wasn't big with the pep," she muttered, resuming her normal stride toward the cemetery entrance. And, she thought to herself, it looks like you're about to become reacquainted with those feelings.
No happiness with Tara. And she knew Tara had lost her happiness in the relationship as well. It was there in their lovemaking. In her eyes when she watched Willow. In the small touches that were no longer shared between them.
"Well, everyone thinks about it at least once. Doesn't mean they want it to happen." He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, his face serious, his eyes intent. "But if you do want it to happen," he told her, "ever. Just know that... I'm here for you, baby." He grinned, winking at her. "I'd kill you in a heartbeat."
For a minute there, he'd actually had her thinking he was a decent vampire. Silly her. "If I ever do feel like dying, I'll go to Angel." She grinned right back at him, loving seeing that grin of his fade. She looked up, noting their location with a bit of relief. "Oh, look, here we are. Gotta go, Tara's waiting."
His eyes slid away from hers, and she could've sworn she saw envy in there. But, he had his own girlfriend, right? Why would he envy her hers? No reason, she was just seeing things that weren't there.
"Yeah, yeah," he said in a bored tone, taking a long drag off his cigarette, "go be with your bird." His steps slowed as they neared the entrance, and the couple currently standing under a streetlight with their lips and arms locked around each other.
"My bird," she repeated with a little smile. Tara was a bird, a pretty bird about to fly away from her, taking all her love with-- "Oh!" She took the condor feather out of her pocket and turned around, presenting Spike with it. "Trade ya."
He frowned down at the feather, looking nonplused. "Eh? What do I want your condom feather for?"
She rolled her eyes at him, wondering how far he'd take the joke already. "Freddy. I want Freddy back."
"Freddy... oh." He left his cigarette dangling from his lips as he used both hands to dig her troll doll out of the pocket of his duster. He tossed it to her with a nod. "Take the ugly little thing." Another shudder escaped him, and she started to wonder if it wasn't real.
"Um, thanks," she laughed, sticking Freddy in her jacket pocket as she handed him the feather with a regal nod.
He took it by the end, twirling it between his fingers. The black feather blurred as it spun, drawing her attention to it. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he asked her.
She frowned at the feather as it started to shimmer iridescently, like a handful of glitter had been thrown into the air around it. Glancing up to see if Spike noticed, she was confused to see that he hadn't. "I... I don't know. Did you see that?" she asked in a rush, still staring at the feather.
"See what?" He lifted the feather up to the moonlight, seeing her unwavering attention on it, and squinted at it, taking the cigarette from his mouth.
Maybe she'd been mistaken. Maybe it was just the smoke. That's all it was, still, she reached out for the feather, just to make sure. "Can I see it for a second?"
He shrugged, handing it to her as he replaced the cigarette between his lips. "Sure, take it. I didn't..." his eyes widened as she lifted it up to the moonlight like he had and twirled it. "What's that?"
She looked at him quickly, wondering what he was seeing. She saw nothing more than an ordinary feather now. No sparklies, no glimmery shimmering. "What do you see?" she asked.
He shook his head, looking a little unsure. "Glitter. Like," he held his hands out toward the feather, waving his fingers a little, "iridescent. And sparkling." He grabbed the cigarette from his lips and dropped it to the grass, stomping it out absently. "You don't see it?" His eyes moved past the feather to her face, widening even more. "It's, uh, it's all over you too."
She looked down at herself, still not seeing anything out of the ordinary. "I don't see it. But that's what I saw too, when you were holding it." She frowned, holding it out to him again. "I didn't see it on you though."
He reached out to take the feather, hesitating for a second before closing his fingers around the stem. "I better not be glittery," he blustered, not quite angry, but not all right with being one of the ones effected by... something.
"You are," she said in awe, seeing the silver glitter sprinkling slowly to the ground around him, landing on his shoulders and hair. One piece landed on his cheek and she reached out to touch it without thinking, cupping his cheek with her palm and using her thumb to wipe at the piece of silver. "You're covered in... it's all silver. Was I silver too?" she asked excitedly. Everything was all Christmas-y. It was cool in the extreme.
"Yeah. Yeah, you were." His hand touched hers, which was still on his cheek and then the glitter was falling all around them, both of them. "Huh," he muttered, looking up into the sky above them.
"It's like snow." She grinned, holding her other hand out to catch some of it. A few pieces landed in her upturned palm and she blew at it, watching it dance and swirl around in the air. "This is so weird."
"Weird is right," Xander said from behind her. "What the heck is going on?"
Willow spun around, sliding her hand free of Spike's, holding her hands out to catch the glitter as she grinned at Xander and Anya. "Isn't it cool?" She looked down at the grass, seeing it starting to collect down there. "We could make glitter angels," she laughed.
"It's so *not* cool that you were making with the touching of Spike," Xander told her, his voice high and freaked out.
Spike stepped up behind her, brushing off her shoulders. "I don't think they can see it."
"Stop touching her," Xander told Spike, stepping forward to take Willow's hand and pull her away. As soon as his fingers touched hers, he stopped with an audible gasp. "Holy... cow."
"I think he does now," Willow chuckled, biting her lip to keep in her excitement. "Do you see it now, Xander? Do you--"
"What is it?" he asked, looking around him in awe. The glitter spread out to encompass him as well, and when Anya moved closer, grabbing Xander's hand, it grew even bigger. All four of them were now under it.
"We're being sprinkled with pixie dust!" Willow spun around, laughing with abandon. She felt like she was five again, visiting her grandma, and seeing snow for the first time. And playing in it. Oh, that had been so much fun!
"That's not pixie dust," Anya grumped, letting Xander's hand drop. She hurriedly moved free of them, shaking her hair out and squirming around like she had bugs crawling all over her.
"Ahn, hon," Xander laughed, moving closer to her, "I don't think it'll hurt you." He frowned, suddenly wondering if it could do exactly that. "Will it?"
"I hate that stuff," Anya said in irritation, "it's hard to get out of your hair and clothes. It's magick. Pure magick."
"I didn't do it," Willow immediately protested, knowing they were about to start accusing her of being careless with her magick again. "It was not me."
Xander didn't look too convinced of that, and Spike was looking from the feather to her, also not too convinced. Anya, however, snorted at her.
"Oh, please, like you could possibly be doing this." She continued brushing her clothes off as the others stared at her, waiting for an explanation. "Only a God or Goddess can rain magick down on us." She stopped and headed toward Xander, pulling him free of the magick. "Get out of it," she warned Willow and Spike. "Don't wish for anything, don't rhyme, and for God's sake, don't speak in Latin."
Willow looked down at the gathering glitter, kicking at it with the toe of her boot. It was so shiny and pretty. Hardly harmful. Maybe she could take it home and put it away for use later, for spells and stuff. She knelt down, scooping her hands in it, letting it flow through her fingers and flutter to the ground a few times. She looked up when Anya approached, but she wasn't trying to stop Willow.
"Hey, hey! Hands off," Spike ground out, slapping at Anya's grasping hands trying to pull him free of the magick. When Anya dropped her hands from him with a huff, he rubbed his forehead with a sigh. "Just wait until I get this chip out."
Willow rolled her eyes, wondering why he insisted on doing stupid stuff that would only hurt him. And the constant threats were certainly nothing more than annoying to the rest of them.
When Anya started forward again, Spike growled at her. "Back off." His voice was low and threatening.
"Anya, leave Spike alone," Xander sighed, taking her hand in his. "If he wants to play in the pretty glitter, let him play in the pretty glitter."
"But, Xander... it's magick. It could be dangerous," she whispered frantically, gesturing to the two of them still in the magick waterfall.
"But you just said it wasn't," Xander told her reasonably.
"No, I didn't," Anya protested, huffing angrily. "Get them out of there."
Willow snorted at Anya. Everything was dangerous according to her. Even fluffy little bunnies. Scooping up a few handfuls of the magick, she slipped it into her jacket pocket, thinking the blue jar that sat on the shelf above the dresser would be a perfect place to put the magick.
"What are you doing?" Anya shouted in panic, grabbing her arm and yanking her away from the magick.
Startled, Willow dropped most of it on the ground, only managing to slip a tiny amount into her pocket. She yanked her arm free of Anya and stood with her hands on her hips. "Do you mind? I can use this..." she gestured to all the magick dust still fluttering to the ground. "It's just gonna sit there, going to waste? I don't think so. I'm gonna--"
"Leave it right where it's at," Anya said evenly. She got in Willow's face, looking so disgusted Willow had to keep herself from reverting to a third grader to call her names. "It's dangerous. It's pure magick. Stronger than anything you've ever used."
"Will, maybe you should leave it." Xander's wise words, following the advice of his eleven-hundred-year-old girlfriend.
"Yeah," she scoffed, rolling her eyes at Xander. "Maybe I should. Or, maybe you should grow a backbone and stop bowing and scraping to Anyanka, an ex-demon that tortured men for centuries." Ignoring Xander's narrowing eyes, she turned around and went back to the magick. No way was she wasting this stuff.
"Uh, Willow," Spike said slowly, "could be she's right."
She looked up at Spike, glaring at him. Now he was going to pass judgment on her? Please, he was evil incarnate. The murderer of thousands. His advice held little sway with her. Actually, it held none at all. "I didn't ask for your advice, Spike," she said dismissively.
"You're looking a little evil there," he told her, grabbing her arm and hauling her to her feet. His eyes were narrowed, his mouth clenched tight.
She'd infuriated him. Aw, poor baby. "Evil? What, because I want this magick. Ooo," she held her hands out, waving them around in a spooky fashion, "I'm evil. Grr. Fear me."
"Willow," Xander said loudly, stepping closer, but looking quite like he didn't want to. "Your eyes are black."
"It's the magick," she said, unconcerned. Scooping more into her hands, she shoved it into her pocket, wishing she had an easier way to do this. A dust buster appeared at her feet and she grabbed it with a laugh. "This'll work."
"Stop it," Anya warned her. "It's corrupting you. You're going to end up evil and you're going to kill us all. And then where will you be, huh? Friendless and evil." She threw her hands in the air in frustration. "Xander tell her."
"I'm trying, Ahn," Xander bit out. "Spike, help?"
Willow ignored the three of them; they were being ridiculous. She wasn't going to get corrupted by taking some magick dust home with her. Turning the dust buster on, she calmly vacuumed it up, thinking of all the spells she could do with the stuff. Glory? Pshaw, she could kill Glory with a word. In fact: she would. Right now. Taking a handful of the powder in her hands, she thought of Glory. Stupid, self-involved Glory, all powerful and evil to the core. "Send Glory, the super bitch, back to where she came from," she whispered, blowing the powder from her hand.
"Hey, she's got a point there," Spike said, making no move to stop her.
Xander and Anya also paused, but suddenly, it didn't matter anymore. There was someone else to focus their attention on now.
"What this," Glory said in amusement, standing a few yards away with her hands on her hips, "you think you can get rid of me that easily?" She tapped her red-tipped nails against her hips with an annoyed sigh, shaking her curly blond hair with a huff. "If it were that easy, don't you think I'd have tried it already?" She stalked closer, her slinky red dress shimmering in the moonlight, swaying as she neared them.
"Oh, good going," Spike snarled angrily, grabbing Willow's arm and yanking her to her feet. "Bring her here, why don't you? Excellent plan."
Willow brushed her hair over her shoulder and dusted her hands off, shaking free of Spike's hold. "Time to take the trash out," she mumbled, walking toward Glory.
Glory crossed her arms over her chest with a snide laugh, watching Willow approach. She frowned suddenly and yanked her foot up, glaring at the muddy heels of her spiked shoes. "I hate this dimension," she groused, slamming her foot down on the ground only to get it stuck again. "Ugh."
Anya backed away, dragging Xander with her. Xander reached out to grab Willow's arm to take her with them, but she shrugged out of his grip. "Willow," Xander hissed, "it's time to split. Buffy couldn't take her, what chance do we have?"
Spike strode forward, yanking her back with the group. "Thinking of dying again?"
"No." She pushed Spike back, watching as he stumbled and bumped into Anya, dropping the three of them to the ground.
"Bloody hell," he shouted angrily. "If she doesn't kill you, Willow, I will."
Willow sighed and tossed her hand in the direction of the people-pile. "Hold." They stopped moving, staying frozen in time... only not completely frozen, their eyes were moving. She resisted the urge to wave at them.
"Willow, the witch," Glory mused, walking around the frozen pile of bodies. "I like it. I could use something like this." She gestured at Spike, Xander, and Anya. "You have no idea how irritating my minions can get with their whining and complaining." She rolled her eyes and joined Willow, circling around her. "They bleed all over my pretty things and blood does not come out," she sighed.
Willow watched Glory dubiously. This was what was so scary? Annoying and whiny she could understand, but a big fighter that kicked Buffy's ass? "Uh, excuse me," she said in confusion, "are we friends?"
Glory stopped circling her and shook her head. "It's called girl talk," she snapped. "I was sharing."
"Oh, 'cause I was kind of wondering when we were going to get to the fighting part?" She smirked at Glory, making sure the other woman saw how unimpressed she was with her. "That's why you're here, right?"
"No, I'm here because you tried to send me back, which is all I've wanted from the beginning. However, that's impossible," she said angrily, grinding out each word, "without... my... key!" She lifted her hands and reached out to touch Willow's head, shoving her hands forcefully inside. "Maybe you can tell me something so my trip here isn't wasted."
Willow screamed, feeling the invading fingers reaching into her mind, scrounging around, looking, searching... wanting something specific. "Stop," she ground out, falling to her knees. "Get out!"
Glory's hands slipped free, releasing the intense pressure on Willow's mind. "I'm not done yet," she told Willow, rolling her eyes when all Willow did was stare up at her, panting. She reached down and started forcing her hands into Willow's head again.
Willow shook free of the invading fingers, shoving at Glory with both hands, feeling the magick swimming through her veins, empowering her. "Die."
Glory stumbled backwards with an irritated look. "Do you mind? I'm trying to steal your sanity here, maybe get a little information... and you're not cooperating." She darted froward, grabbing Willow by the arms. "Now, I'm mad."
Glory lifted her a few feet off the ground, her arms not straining, no sign that she was lifting anything heavier than a pillow. Willow reached forward, grabbing Glory's arms, but barely had time to circle her fingers around her before she was tossed backward. She yelled in surprise, anticipating the pain which was so much less than she thought it would be when she smacked into a tree, hitting her head and back.
She rolled over with a groan, feeling a headache coming on. Her back was a bit sore, but nothing she couldn't handle. "Gonna feel that tomorrow." She climbed to her feet, pushing herself up with a little effort. Staring across the distance at Glory, who was watching her like she was her own little personal TV show, Willow frowned. "Why aren't you dying?"
"Um, because I'm immortal and invincible?" Glory laughed, crooking her finger Willow's way. "But, I could use a little aggression therapy. I get all tight and tense sometimes."
Willow sighed and started toward her again, wondering if magic was the way to go. Specifically the magick dust in her pocket. But she would need to be close enough to her to get the full effect. How she knew that, she had no idea. Stopping in front of glory, she slipped her hands into her jacket pockets.
Glory, still going on and on, talking like they were old friends, shrugged and grabbed Willow's arm, holding her still so she could talk. "My minions are always telling me, 'loosen up', you know? And 'don't get so upset', but I can't seem to help it. Being a girl in this day and age is hard work."
"Yeah," Willow agreed, nodding as if she was right there with her. She slowly pulled her hands free of her pockets, a handful of the magick in each hand. "It really is. Just the other day I was--"
Glory scowled at her. "I was talking about me. Not you. This is me-time. Why does everyone always interrupt me when I'm talking?" she practically screeched, yanking Willow closer to her, forcing her to drop the magick to the ground. "You're all alike, you little human... meat sacks."
Her fingers tightened on Willow's arms, ignoring the struggles Willow was trying to put up and was getting nowhere with. She once again lifted Willow up and threw her backward.
She hit her back again, on a headstone this time. She lay crumpled up against it for a few precious seconds, feeling every ache and pain in her body before it started to fade away. She sat up with a groan, feeling the skin of her back split open, and blood soak into her shirt and drip below the waistband of her jeans.
Considering the two trips through the air, and what had stopped her falls, she wasn't too bad off.
Glory stomped forward, stopping a few times to yank her heels free of the soft ground before bending down to pick her up again. "You're fun. Not like that annoying Slayer. She's always jumping up again, running after me, like she could actually hurt me. I mean how pathetic is she? A lowly vampire slayer. I'm a HellGod; I was killing people before this dimension was a dimension."
Willow wondered if Glory ever shut up. Maybe that was her secret weapon, talk her enemies to death while throwing them around like a rag doll. "Could you just... shut up, for like, five seconds?"
"I could," Glory agreed pleasantly, "but only after I kill you."
"Yeah, that'll happen," she said bravely. "So, you're immortal, huh? Well, we'll just see about that." Grabbing a handful of the magick from her pockets, she blew it in Glory's face. "Reveal."
Glory straightened up with a cough, waving her hands in front of her. "My hair! I just..." she began, but then her voice deepened, and her body started to remold itself. Her hair shortened and went straight, her body grew slightly taller and definitely more masculine. By the time her body finished reshaping itself, she was no longer Glory, but Ben, the intern.
"... washed it," Ben finished, looking around him in confusion. "Where am I?" he mumbled, sighing when he saw the small red dress he had on. He looked up when she moved closer, circling around him. "Uh, hi... I'm just--"
"Glory," Willow said in fascination. "You share a body with Glory. That is so cool."
"You're not supposed to know that," he mumbled, bending down to unstrap the heeled shoes on his too-big feet. He caught sight of the trio on the ground, still frozen, and straightened up again. "What are they doing?" he asked curiously. "Did Glory do something?" He straightened up, frowning at her. "Why do you remember?"
"Magick," Willow answered, still circling around him. "Are you... whatever she is, or human?" Why had Ben been revealed to her? Was he the key to taking Glory out? Did he know how?
"I'm human," he answered slowly. When she said nothing more, he moved over to the trio on the ground. "They're..."
"Bound by magick. I had to keep them away from Glory. She would've killed them." Joining him by her friends, she glanced down, seeing the fear in Xander's eyes. Anya looked annoyed and the smallest bit fearful while Spike just looked furious.
"She'll kill you," Ben told her, spinning around toward her. "You have to go. All of you, get out of here. She won't stay away for long." His worried eyes darted around frantically.
"If I kill you," Willow said slowly, "will she die?" This could be her chance. That's what the magick was showing her, revealing to her. If she killed Ben, which maybe she could do, he *was* one half of an evil duo after all, Glory would die as well. She'd have no body to take over anymore. Unless she could just take over another body. "Is she bound to you, or can she take over anyone's body?"
"She's bound to me. We're bound together forever." He backed away a few steps, watching her warily. "Where's Buffy? You're one of her friends, aren't you? I remember the leather guy." He pointed toward Spike, his eyes flicking that way for a split second. "And you. You were at the party. He got thrown through a window." He stopped walking, yanking at the short skirt, trying to get it to cover him more.
Willow followed him every step of the way, feeling something wash over her. Peace. She felt peaceful. Like everything was coming together and this was right. She would kill Ben and take care of Glory. Dawn would be safe. Buffy would be safe. All of them would. No more hyped-up evil bitch looking for her key. She reached into her pocket and drew out a handful of the magick.
Ben looked fearfully toward her hand and then took off running. Willow blew on the dust and whispered, "Die."
Ben made it a few more feet before coming to a halt and spinning around, grabbing his throat desperately. He sank to his knees, clawing at his throat, his eyes, wide and fearful, fixing on her face.
She walked slowly toward him, watching him turn red as he gasped for air. His skin matched his dress, she thought with a giggle. Stopping in front of him, she sank to her knees as well, watching him curiously. His face was losing all color now, turning white. His lips were blue. Like the flag; red, white, and blue. She smiled, reaching out a hand to touch his cheek. "I'm sorry, but Glory can't have the Key. She can't be allowed to touch Dawn."
He gasped frantically, his eyes sliding shut. Claw marks of red, dripping blood, marked the expanse of his throat, open to her eyes by the low neckline of the dress. He stiffened with a last gasp of air and then crumpled to the grass, unmoving. She sighed and leaned froward, checking his pulse to make sure he wasn't faking it.
There was nothing there. No pulse, no heartbeat. Ben was dead. Even better, Glory was dead. No more worrying about that bimbo. She pushed herself to her feet in one fluid movement and brushed her hands off.
Turning from the sight of Ben's body, she approached her friends, anticipating the happiness and relief in their eyes. But that wasn't what awaited her.
Xander's eyes were shut, squeezed tight. When she knelt down to his level, reaching out a hand to touch his face, he looked up at her from his position underneath Anya, disappointment and sorrow showing plainly.
Anya glared at her, saying with her eyes what she couldn't say with words, which was obviously along the lines of, 'Let us go!'. Only with more anger and disgust.
Spike didn't look away. But he didn't look happy either. He wasn't disappointed, or angry, there was no sorrow filling his eyes, no fear, but there was something there. Something she couldn't figure out.
What was with them? She'd taken care of an evil enemy, they should be jumping for joy. "Release," she muttered, watching as they completed their fall. Xander, on the bottom, groaned once or twice as Spike rolled off of Anya and Anya followed suit.
Willow stood as they began to move.
Xander laid still for a few seconds and then sat up slowly, bending his knees as he stared up at her. "You killed Ben," he whispered torturously, his face showing his unwillingness to conceive of the idea. "Why? Why did you do that?"
She frowned at him. He'd been there the whole time, he'd seen everything. Why would he even need to ask? "She was evil," Willow told him, unable to understand why he was looking so disgusted and accusing.
"She?" he ground out, jumping to his feet and grabbing her arms. "She? She was a he, Willow. A man. It was the magick... it made you crazy," he said desperately, looking around frantically with his eyes as if trying to come up with an explanation for her actions. "Ben wasn't evil. He had-- he had nothing to do with any of this."
"Wasn't evil," Spike scoffed, striding closer to Xander to stare at him stupidly. "What the bloody hell would you call him then? He was evil--"
Xander exploded, shoving Spike away from him. "Why? Because Buffy liked him? Because he liked Buffy? Were you jealous, Spike, glad that Willow got rid of the competition when you couldn't do it yourself?" He swung a fist at Spike's jaw, shouting in frustration as Spike ducked away.
Anya stepped in front of him and held him back with her hands on his chest. "Xander, stop it."
"No, Ahn, no, I will not stop-- did you not just see what I saw? Willow killed Ben." Xander clenched his fists and stomped away, glaring at Spike as he paced by him.
"I didn't just kill Ben," Willow told them, imploring Spike or Anya to explain it to Xander. Why didn't he understand? "I killed Glory."
"Glory?" Xander tossed back, throwing his hand out towards Ben. "Glory's not here, Willow. That's Ben!"
"Are you blind as well as stupid?" Spike asked him, staring at him incredulously. He grabbed Xander's arm and yanked him over to Ben's body. "That's Glory."
Xander shook Spike off of him. "No, that's Ben. The intern."
"Ben, the intern," Spike sneered, shoving Xander closer, holding him by the neck as he forced him to look. "Why's he wearing a dress, Xander? Why's he got make-up on?" He let go of Xander's neck and stalked a few feet away. "And why was he wearing these," he asked, bending down to pick up the muddy heels Ben had taken off. "He *was* Glory, nimrod"
Anya shoved by Spike, pushing him out of the way to get to Xander who was rubbing his neck and frowning at the shoes in Spike's hands.
"No, he wasn't." Xander shook his head, looking down at Ben in confusion. "How could that be? Glory was here and then..."
"And then she was gone," Anya finished for him, staring at Spike and Willow like they were the insane ones. "Ben came and-- and... he--" she frowned, glancing at Xander as she tried to remember. "Ben was here." She shrugged, glancing down at Ben. "In a dress."
"He was Glory?" Xander asked cautiously, as if he didn't dare hope they were telling him the truth. "Ben was Glory." He sighed, dropping to a headstone, his eyes shining with relief. "Oh, thank God." He looked up at Willow and jumped up, running to hug her tight. "I'm sorry. I thought--"
"Yeah, we all know what you thought," Spike said in irritation. "We were there for that."
Willow looked at Spike over Xander's shoulder, arching her eyebrows at him. He snorted at her in disgust as he lit a cigarette. "It's okay, Xander," Willow said after a minute, when he didn't let her go. She patted his back once, then again. "Um, Xander? Life's going to be hard to get through with a Xander-shaped person attached to me."
Anya sighed and yanked Xander from her. "Okay. Can we go home now?"
Xander pulled away from Willow and stared into her face. "Are you okay? Something... something happened back there." He held his hand up, motioning to the spot where she'd frozen them. "You went a little nuts on us."
"I did," she agreed, starting to feel the magick fade from her. As it faded, the pain came in its place. "I really did, but I'm good now. It's wearing off." She brushed her hands off, and even emptied her pockets, trying not to touch the stuff. She didn't need any more evil-Willow invading her. Wow, that had been wicked. "It's... oh, ow, oh... pain." She sank to the ground, breathing slowly, holding herself as still as possible without halting her breathing altogether. Her eyes widened as she remembered flying through the air and smacking into a tree. "All that Superman stuff is starting to take its toll," she whispered, gasping for breath.
"What is it?" Xander asked, hovering nearby, afraid to touch her. "What hurts?"
"Oh, just, you know, my everywhere," she admitted, "but mostly my back. And my head." If she stayed there all night, unmoving, would the vampires and other evil creatures of the night think she was a part of the scenery and leave her to her dying? 'Cause, boy did she feel like she was dying.
"It's no wonder," Anya told her with not an ounce of sympathy, "you're not a Slayer. Even Buffy hurts after fighting Glory."
On the heels of the physical pain came the emotional pain. Her eyes landed on Ben's dead, lifeless body. One hand was flung out from his side, the fingers curled in a fist. A fist that would never open again, because of her. She'd killed him. Taken a human's life without thought.
A wrenching feeling twisted in her gut, tightening until she couldn't stand it any longer and began to sob. Guilt and shame washed over her, filling her with self loathing.
Gasping for breath she suddenly didn't have and trying not to hyperventilate, she tore her eyes away from Ben. "Oh... oh God, oh God. I killed him," she sobbed. "I-- I killed him. Oh God."
She felt dirty, like snakes were crawling under her skin.
TITLE: Order Now
AUTHOR: sinecure
RATED: R
PAIRING: W/S (4/?)
DISCLAIMER: Joss and ME own BtVS, I don't, and the way these past seasons are going, I'm glad I don't.
DEDICATED: To Claudia, because, not only is she the best beta ever, but she's also quite the friend. She kicks ass on grammar--just call her the Hyphen Queen, I do--spelling, characterization, plot. She makes my job a whole hell of a lot easier... even when she's killing my poor little defenseless plot-babies. ;)
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PART 4
Spike and Willow walked in silence for a ways, each lost in their own thoughts.
Willow had thoughts of human pets dancing in her head. Did vampires really do that? And did they get the studded collars to wear around their necks, perhaps one of those half-sweaters that dog owners got for their-- or, just naked. Walking around naked while the vampire did what? Made it do tricks?
She giggled at that, picturing Harmony leading a human around by a diamond collar with a silver chain attached to it. And no clothes, or maybe one of those poodle sweaters. Oh, and a small pink bow in their hair. Harmony always was about appearances. She'd make the human crawl around on all fours and roll over. Maybe sit up and beg... okay, not so funny anymore.
Images of crawling around on the floor, filthy and bleeding, naked but for the collar attached to her neck, being forced to do stupid human tricks was now foremost in her mind. Being beaten and bit when she tried to escape.
She started to panic, wondering if that girl in Spike's crypt was his pet. If he had her chained up there, forcing her to stay when all she wanted to do was go home.
But, no, the woman hadn't sounded like she wanted to leave. Her imagination was just working overtime, that was all.
Spike sighed beside her, tossing her an irritated look. "Is that a plan you came up with? Speed your heartbeat up and get all that hot..." he paused, closing his eyes for a brief second, "hot blood of yours pumping to tempt the vampires into trying to snack on you?" He swallowed thickly, once again looking at her like she was a tasty treat.
"Hey, I'm not a hot sticky bun, so stop looking at me like that." She sidled away a little, trying not to look frightened. It was true, Spike still scared her. He was evil, what could she say? All that unrestrained evilness-- well, now it was restrained really, but that just made it all the worse. One day that chip wouldn't be there, or would stop working and he would do what he constantly threatened to do, bathe in their blood.
And she'd like to avoid that, please.
"A hot sticky bun," he mused, chuckling in surprise, "I haven't had one of those in months. With the frosting and cin--"
"Cinnamon!" she agreed, laughing and nodding. "The Espresso Pump has the *best* sticky buns. Mm. To die for, only, you know, not in the actual dying kind of way." She was getting hungry just thinking about them. Maybe after patrol she'd swing by the Pump and pick one up. And a cup of coffee. No sticky bun was complete without the coffee. "You should try them. And the coff..." realizing who she was talking to, who she was discussing food with--the very person who was at that moment probably imagining her as food--she trailed off with a shrug.
"And the what?" he asked, not noticing her sudden uneasiness. There was genuine interest on his face. No smirking, no taunting, just a normal conversation that was going on between two oddly matched beings.
She gave him a small, nervous head shake, grasping the stake tightly with both hands. "Oh, um, they have this coffee that-- that goes perfect with them. With the sticky buns." She nodded and smiled quickly, just a showing of teeth and then it was gone.
His back straightened and he nodded, his narrowed eyes watching her with disappointment. "Right. I should try that some day." His pace sped up, his strides growing wider, quickly leaving her behind.
Again with the disappointment. Why did he keep looking at her like that? Like she'd done something wrong. Something he hadn't expected her to do, or had hoped she wouldn't do. Well, what was that? She wasn't being mean, just nervous.
And really, she couldn't help that she was afraid of him, she just was. Although, talking about sticky buns with a guy didn't really lead to scary thoughts. Maybe it was because she didn't know him well. His time around her was spent trying to kill her, and that wasn't a pastime that led to getting to know one another.
The rest of his time was spent trying to kill her friends. Or it used to be. Now it was spent taunting them. And following Buffy around. Pestering her. Bothering her. Annoying the holy heck out of her.
Still, that was no reason for her to be rude to him. Well, actually it was, but she could be the bigger person and take the higher road.
She sighed heavily, catching up with him. "Sorry. I'm sorry, it's just that... well, you scare me." Nodding at his incredulous look, and then ignoring his prideful look, she shrugged, not sure how to explain it. "When you tried to kill me in my room? Wow," she said seriously, feeling a residual tremor of fear slither down her spine, "I have never been more frightened in my life. Before, or since."
"Really," he said skeptically, frowning in her direction. "I find that hard to believe."
"Really," she assured him. "Although, don't get me wrong, the kidnaping thing was way scary too, with the sniffing and the 'not having had a woman in ages' comment, believe me, it was ultra-scary." Feeling a little better getting it off her chest, she poured it all out there for him, telling him exactly why she wasn't too fond of him. She smiled a little, thinking that was an understatement. "But, what scared me most was that... for a split, split--very minute--split second, I thought about just letting you kill me. I thought, hey, it couldn't be any worse than the constant pain of Oz's betrayal."
Those were thoughts she hadn't even admitted to herself before now. She was just as shocked as Spike was at the admission.
"You wanted to die?" he scoffed, shaking his head as he paused to light a cigarette. "No, can't see it. There's too much life in you." He snapped his lighter shut with a click, squinting at her through the smoke. "You're the one with the pep."
"Well, I was pretty much pep-less then." She frowned at the memories pushing their way forward, forcing her to remember the pain and anguish. "I wasn't big with the pep," she muttered, resuming her normal stride toward the cemetery entrance. And, she thought to herself, it looks like you're about to become reacquainted with those feelings.
No happiness with Tara. And she knew Tara had lost her happiness in the relationship as well. It was there in their lovemaking. In her eyes when she watched Willow. In the small touches that were no longer shared between them.
"Well, everyone thinks about it at least once. Doesn't mean they want it to happen." He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, his face serious, his eyes intent. "But if you do want it to happen," he told her, "ever. Just know that... I'm here for you, baby." He grinned, winking at her. "I'd kill you in a heartbeat."
For a minute there, he'd actually had her thinking he was a decent vampire. Silly her. "If I ever do feel like dying, I'll go to Angel." She grinned right back at him, loving seeing that grin of his fade. She looked up, noting their location with a bit of relief. "Oh, look, here we are. Gotta go, Tara's waiting."
His eyes slid away from hers, and she could've sworn she saw envy in there. But, he had his own girlfriend, right? Why would he envy her hers? No reason, she was just seeing things that weren't there.
"Yeah, yeah," he said in a bored tone, taking a long drag off his cigarette, "go be with your bird." His steps slowed as they neared the entrance, and the couple currently standing under a streetlight with their lips and arms locked around each other.
"My bird," she repeated with a little smile. Tara was a bird, a pretty bird about to fly away from her, taking all her love with-- "Oh!" She took the condor feather out of her pocket and turned around, presenting Spike with it. "Trade ya."
He frowned down at the feather, looking nonplused. "Eh? What do I want your condom feather for?"
She rolled her eyes at him, wondering how far he'd take the joke already. "Freddy. I want Freddy back."
"Freddy... oh." He left his cigarette dangling from his lips as he used both hands to dig her troll doll out of the pocket of his duster. He tossed it to her with a nod. "Take the ugly little thing." Another shudder escaped him, and she started to wonder if it wasn't real.
"Um, thanks," she laughed, sticking Freddy in her jacket pocket as she handed him the feather with a regal nod.
He took it by the end, twirling it between his fingers. The black feather blurred as it spun, drawing her attention to it. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he asked her.
She frowned at the feather as it started to shimmer iridescently, like a handful of glitter had been thrown into the air around it. Glancing up to see if Spike noticed, she was confused to see that he hadn't. "I... I don't know. Did you see that?" she asked in a rush, still staring at the feather.
"See what?" He lifted the feather up to the moonlight, seeing her unwavering attention on it, and squinted at it, taking the cigarette from his mouth.
Maybe she'd been mistaken. Maybe it was just the smoke. That's all it was, still, she reached out for the feather, just to make sure. "Can I see it for a second?"
He shrugged, handing it to her as he replaced the cigarette between his lips. "Sure, take it. I didn't..." his eyes widened as she lifted it up to the moonlight like he had and twirled it. "What's that?"
She looked at him quickly, wondering what he was seeing. She saw nothing more than an ordinary feather now. No sparklies, no glimmery shimmering. "What do you see?" she asked.
He shook his head, looking a little unsure. "Glitter. Like," he held his hands out toward the feather, waving his fingers a little, "iridescent. And sparkling." He grabbed the cigarette from his lips and dropped it to the grass, stomping it out absently. "You don't see it?" His eyes moved past the feather to her face, widening even more. "It's, uh, it's all over you too."
She looked down at herself, still not seeing anything out of the ordinary. "I don't see it. But that's what I saw too, when you were holding it." She frowned, holding it out to him again. "I didn't see it on you though."
He reached out to take the feather, hesitating for a second before closing his fingers around the stem. "I better not be glittery," he blustered, not quite angry, but not all right with being one of the ones effected by... something.
"You are," she said in awe, seeing the silver glitter sprinkling slowly to the ground around him, landing on his shoulders and hair. One piece landed on his cheek and she reached out to touch it without thinking, cupping his cheek with her palm and using her thumb to wipe at the piece of silver. "You're covered in... it's all silver. Was I silver too?" she asked excitedly. Everything was all Christmas-y. It was cool in the extreme.
"Yeah. Yeah, you were." His hand touched hers, which was still on his cheek and then the glitter was falling all around them, both of them. "Huh," he muttered, looking up into the sky above them.
"It's like snow." She grinned, holding her other hand out to catch some of it. A few pieces landed in her upturned palm and she blew at it, watching it dance and swirl around in the air. "This is so weird."
"Weird is right," Xander said from behind her. "What the heck is going on?"
Willow spun around, sliding her hand free of Spike's, holding her hands out to catch the glitter as she grinned at Xander and Anya. "Isn't it cool?" She looked down at the grass, seeing it starting to collect down there. "We could make glitter angels," she laughed.
"It's so *not* cool that you were making with the touching of Spike," Xander told her, his voice high and freaked out.
Spike stepped up behind her, brushing off her shoulders. "I don't think they can see it."
"Stop touching her," Xander told Spike, stepping forward to take Willow's hand and pull her away. As soon as his fingers touched hers, he stopped with an audible gasp. "Holy... cow."
"I think he does now," Willow chuckled, biting her lip to keep in her excitement. "Do you see it now, Xander? Do you--"
"What is it?" he asked, looking around him in awe. The glitter spread out to encompass him as well, and when Anya moved closer, grabbing Xander's hand, it grew even bigger. All four of them were now under it.
"We're being sprinkled with pixie dust!" Willow spun around, laughing with abandon. She felt like she was five again, visiting her grandma, and seeing snow for the first time. And playing in it. Oh, that had been so much fun!
"That's not pixie dust," Anya grumped, letting Xander's hand drop. She hurriedly moved free of them, shaking her hair out and squirming around like she had bugs crawling all over her.
"Ahn, hon," Xander laughed, moving closer to her, "I don't think it'll hurt you." He frowned, suddenly wondering if it could do exactly that. "Will it?"
"I hate that stuff," Anya said in irritation, "it's hard to get out of your hair and clothes. It's magick. Pure magick."
"I didn't do it," Willow immediately protested, knowing they were about to start accusing her of being careless with her magick again. "It was not me."
Xander didn't look too convinced of that, and Spike was looking from the feather to her, also not too convinced. Anya, however, snorted at her.
"Oh, please, like you could possibly be doing this." She continued brushing her clothes off as the others stared at her, waiting for an explanation. "Only a God or Goddess can rain magick down on us." She stopped and headed toward Xander, pulling him free of the magick. "Get out of it," she warned Willow and Spike. "Don't wish for anything, don't rhyme, and for God's sake, don't speak in Latin."
Willow looked down at the gathering glitter, kicking at it with the toe of her boot. It was so shiny and pretty. Hardly harmful. Maybe she could take it home and put it away for use later, for spells and stuff. She knelt down, scooping her hands in it, letting it flow through her fingers and flutter to the ground a few times. She looked up when Anya approached, but she wasn't trying to stop Willow.
"Hey, hey! Hands off," Spike ground out, slapping at Anya's grasping hands trying to pull him free of the magick. When Anya dropped her hands from him with a huff, he rubbed his forehead with a sigh. "Just wait until I get this chip out."
Willow rolled her eyes, wondering why he insisted on doing stupid stuff that would only hurt him. And the constant threats were certainly nothing more than annoying to the rest of them.
When Anya started forward again, Spike growled at her. "Back off." His voice was low and threatening.
"Anya, leave Spike alone," Xander sighed, taking her hand in his. "If he wants to play in the pretty glitter, let him play in the pretty glitter."
"But, Xander... it's magick. It could be dangerous," she whispered frantically, gesturing to the two of them still in the magick waterfall.
"But you just said it wasn't," Xander told her reasonably.
"No, I didn't," Anya protested, huffing angrily. "Get them out of there."
Willow snorted at Anya. Everything was dangerous according to her. Even fluffy little bunnies. Scooping up a few handfuls of the magick, she slipped it into her jacket pocket, thinking the blue jar that sat on the shelf above the dresser would be a perfect place to put the magick.
"What are you doing?" Anya shouted in panic, grabbing her arm and yanking her away from the magick.
Startled, Willow dropped most of it on the ground, only managing to slip a tiny amount into her pocket. She yanked her arm free of Anya and stood with her hands on her hips. "Do you mind? I can use this..." she gestured to all the magick dust still fluttering to the ground. "It's just gonna sit there, going to waste? I don't think so. I'm gonna--"
"Leave it right where it's at," Anya said evenly. She got in Willow's face, looking so disgusted Willow had to keep herself from reverting to a third grader to call her names. "It's dangerous. It's pure magick. Stronger than anything you've ever used."
"Will, maybe you should leave it." Xander's wise words, following the advice of his eleven-hundred-year-old girlfriend.
"Yeah," she scoffed, rolling her eyes at Xander. "Maybe I should. Or, maybe you should grow a backbone and stop bowing and scraping to Anyanka, an ex-demon that tortured men for centuries." Ignoring Xander's narrowing eyes, she turned around and went back to the magick. No way was she wasting this stuff.
"Uh, Willow," Spike said slowly, "could be she's right."
She looked up at Spike, glaring at him. Now he was going to pass judgment on her? Please, he was evil incarnate. The murderer of thousands. His advice held little sway with her. Actually, it held none at all. "I didn't ask for your advice, Spike," she said dismissively.
"You're looking a little evil there," he told her, grabbing her arm and hauling her to her feet. His eyes were narrowed, his mouth clenched tight.
She'd infuriated him. Aw, poor baby. "Evil? What, because I want this magick. Ooo," she held her hands out, waving them around in a spooky fashion, "I'm evil. Grr. Fear me."
"Willow," Xander said loudly, stepping closer, but looking quite like he didn't want to. "Your eyes are black."
"It's the magick," she said, unconcerned. Scooping more into her hands, she shoved it into her pocket, wishing she had an easier way to do this. A dust buster appeared at her feet and she grabbed it with a laugh. "This'll work."
"Stop it," Anya warned her. "It's corrupting you. You're going to end up evil and you're going to kill us all. And then where will you be, huh? Friendless and evil." She threw her hands in the air in frustration. "Xander tell her."
"I'm trying, Ahn," Xander bit out. "Spike, help?"
Willow ignored the three of them; they were being ridiculous. She wasn't going to get corrupted by taking some magick dust home with her. Turning the dust buster on, she calmly vacuumed it up, thinking of all the spells she could do with the stuff. Glory? Pshaw, she could kill Glory with a word. In fact: she would. Right now. Taking a handful of the powder in her hands, she thought of Glory. Stupid, self-involved Glory, all powerful and evil to the core. "Send Glory, the super bitch, back to where she came from," she whispered, blowing the powder from her hand.
"Hey, she's got a point there," Spike said, making no move to stop her.
Xander and Anya also paused, but suddenly, it didn't matter anymore. There was someone else to focus their attention on now.
"What this," Glory said in amusement, standing a few yards away with her hands on her hips, "you think you can get rid of me that easily?" She tapped her red-tipped nails against her hips with an annoyed sigh, shaking her curly blond hair with a huff. "If it were that easy, don't you think I'd have tried it already?" She stalked closer, her slinky red dress shimmering in the moonlight, swaying as she neared them.
"Oh, good going," Spike snarled angrily, grabbing Willow's arm and yanking her to her feet. "Bring her here, why don't you? Excellent plan."
Willow brushed her hair over her shoulder and dusted her hands off, shaking free of Spike's hold. "Time to take the trash out," she mumbled, walking toward Glory.
Glory crossed her arms over her chest with a snide laugh, watching Willow approach. She frowned suddenly and yanked her foot up, glaring at the muddy heels of her spiked shoes. "I hate this dimension," she groused, slamming her foot down on the ground only to get it stuck again. "Ugh."
Anya backed away, dragging Xander with her. Xander reached out to grab Willow's arm to take her with them, but she shrugged out of his grip. "Willow," Xander hissed, "it's time to split. Buffy couldn't take her, what chance do we have?"
Spike strode forward, yanking her back with the group. "Thinking of dying again?"
"No." She pushed Spike back, watching as he stumbled and bumped into Anya, dropping the three of them to the ground.
"Bloody hell," he shouted angrily. "If she doesn't kill you, Willow, I will."
Willow sighed and tossed her hand in the direction of the people-pile. "Hold." They stopped moving, staying frozen in time... only not completely frozen, their eyes were moving. She resisted the urge to wave at them.
"Willow, the witch," Glory mused, walking around the frozen pile of bodies. "I like it. I could use something like this." She gestured at Spike, Xander, and Anya. "You have no idea how irritating my minions can get with their whining and complaining." She rolled her eyes and joined Willow, circling around her. "They bleed all over my pretty things and blood does not come out," she sighed.
Willow watched Glory dubiously. This was what was so scary? Annoying and whiny she could understand, but a big fighter that kicked Buffy's ass? "Uh, excuse me," she said in confusion, "are we friends?"
Glory stopped circling her and shook her head. "It's called girl talk," she snapped. "I was sharing."
"Oh, 'cause I was kind of wondering when we were going to get to the fighting part?" She smirked at Glory, making sure the other woman saw how unimpressed she was with her. "That's why you're here, right?"
"No, I'm here because you tried to send me back, which is all I've wanted from the beginning. However, that's impossible," she said angrily, grinding out each word, "without... my... key!" She lifted her hands and reached out to touch Willow's head, shoving her hands forcefully inside. "Maybe you can tell me something so my trip here isn't wasted."
Willow screamed, feeling the invading fingers reaching into her mind, scrounging around, looking, searching... wanting something specific. "Stop," she ground out, falling to her knees. "Get out!"
Glory's hands slipped free, releasing the intense pressure on Willow's mind. "I'm not done yet," she told Willow, rolling her eyes when all Willow did was stare up at her, panting. She reached down and started forcing her hands into Willow's head again.
Willow shook free of the invading fingers, shoving at Glory with both hands, feeling the magick swimming through her veins, empowering her. "Die."
Glory stumbled backwards with an irritated look. "Do you mind? I'm trying to steal your sanity here, maybe get a little information... and you're not cooperating." She darted froward, grabbing Willow by the arms. "Now, I'm mad."
Glory lifted her a few feet off the ground, her arms not straining, no sign that she was lifting anything heavier than a pillow. Willow reached forward, grabbing Glory's arms, but barely had time to circle her fingers around her before she was tossed backward. She yelled in surprise, anticipating the pain which was so much less than she thought it would be when she smacked into a tree, hitting her head and back.
She rolled over with a groan, feeling a headache coming on. Her back was a bit sore, but nothing she couldn't handle. "Gonna feel that tomorrow." She climbed to her feet, pushing herself up with a little effort. Staring across the distance at Glory, who was watching her like she was her own little personal TV show, Willow frowned. "Why aren't you dying?"
"Um, because I'm immortal and invincible?" Glory laughed, crooking her finger Willow's way. "But, I could use a little aggression therapy. I get all tight and tense sometimes."
Willow sighed and started toward her again, wondering if magic was the way to go. Specifically the magick dust in her pocket. But she would need to be close enough to her to get the full effect. How she knew that, she had no idea. Stopping in front of glory, she slipped her hands into her jacket pockets.
Glory, still going on and on, talking like they were old friends, shrugged and grabbed Willow's arm, holding her still so she could talk. "My minions are always telling me, 'loosen up', you know? And 'don't get so upset', but I can't seem to help it. Being a girl in this day and age is hard work."
"Yeah," Willow agreed, nodding as if she was right there with her. She slowly pulled her hands free of her pockets, a handful of the magick in each hand. "It really is. Just the other day I was--"
Glory scowled at her. "I was talking about me. Not you. This is me-time. Why does everyone always interrupt me when I'm talking?" she practically screeched, yanking Willow closer to her, forcing her to drop the magick to the ground. "You're all alike, you little human... meat sacks."
Her fingers tightened on Willow's arms, ignoring the struggles Willow was trying to put up and was getting nowhere with. She once again lifted Willow up and threw her backward.
She hit her back again, on a headstone this time. She lay crumpled up against it for a few precious seconds, feeling every ache and pain in her body before it started to fade away. She sat up with a groan, feeling the skin of her back split open, and blood soak into her shirt and drip below the waistband of her jeans.
Considering the two trips through the air, and what had stopped her falls, she wasn't too bad off.
Glory stomped forward, stopping a few times to yank her heels free of the soft ground before bending down to pick her up again. "You're fun. Not like that annoying Slayer. She's always jumping up again, running after me, like she could actually hurt me. I mean how pathetic is she? A lowly vampire slayer. I'm a HellGod; I was killing people before this dimension was a dimension."
Willow wondered if Glory ever shut up. Maybe that was her secret weapon, talk her enemies to death while throwing them around like a rag doll. "Could you just... shut up, for like, five seconds?"
"I could," Glory agreed pleasantly, "but only after I kill you."
"Yeah, that'll happen," she said bravely. "So, you're immortal, huh? Well, we'll just see about that." Grabbing a handful of the magick from her pockets, she blew it in Glory's face. "Reveal."
Glory straightened up with a cough, waving her hands in front of her. "My hair! I just..." she began, but then her voice deepened, and her body started to remold itself. Her hair shortened and went straight, her body grew slightly taller and definitely more masculine. By the time her body finished reshaping itself, she was no longer Glory, but Ben, the intern.
"... washed it," Ben finished, looking around him in confusion. "Where am I?" he mumbled, sighing when he saw the small red dress he had on. He looked up when she moved closer, circling around him. "Uh, hi... I'm just--"
"Glory," Willow said in fascination. "You share a body with Glory. That is so cool."
"You're not supposed to know that," he mumbled, bending down to unstrap the heeled shoes on his too-big feet. He caught sight of the trio on the ground, still frozen, and straightened up again. "What are they doing?" he asked curiously. "Did Glory do something?" He straightened up, frowning at her. "Why do you remember?"
"Magick," Willow answered, still circling around him. "Are you... whatever she is, or human?" Why had Ben been revealed to her? Was he the key to taking Glory out? Did he know how?
"I'm human," he answered slowly. When she said nothing more, he moved over to the trio on the ground. "They're..."
"Bound by magick. I had to keep them away from Glory. She would've killed them." Joining him by her friends, she glanced down, seeing the fear in Xander's eyes. Anya looked annoyed and the smallest bit fearful while Spike just looked furious.
"She'll kill you," Ben told her, spinning around toward her. "You have to go. All of you, get out of here. She won't stay away for long." His worried eyes darted around frantically.
"If I kill you," Willow said slowly, "will she die?" This could be her chance. That's what the magick was showing her, revealing to her. If she killed Ben, which maybe she could do, he *was* one half of an evil duo after all, Glory would die as well. She'd have no body to take over anymore. Unless she could just take over another body. "Is she bound to you, or can she take over anyone's body?"
"She's bound to me. We're bound together forever." He backed away a few steps, watching her warily. "Where's Buffy? You're one of her friends, aren't you? I remember the leather guy." He pointed toward Spike, his eyes flicking that way for a split second. "And you. You were at the party. He got thrown through a window." He stopped walking, yanking at the short skirt, trying to get it to cover him more.
Willow followed him every step of the way, feeling something wash over her. Peace. She felt peaceful. Like everything was coming together and this was right. She would kill Ben and take care of Glory. Dawn would be safe. Buffy would be safe. All of them would. No more hyped-up evil bitch looking for her key. She reached into her pocket and drew out a handful of the magick.
Ben looked fearfully toward her hand and then took off running. Willow blew on the dust and whispered, "Die."
Ben made it a few more feet before coming to a halt and spinning around, grabbing his throat desperately. He sank to his knees, clawing at his throat, his eyes, wide and fearful, fixing on her face.
She walked slowly toward him, watching him turn red as he gasped for air. His skin matched his dress, she thought with a giggle. Stopping in front of him, she sank to her knees as well, watching him curiously. His face was losing all color now, turning white. His lips were blue. Like the flag; red, white, and blue. She smiled, reaching out a hand to touch his cheek. "I'm sorry, but Glory can't have the Key. She can't be allowed to touch Dawn."
He gasped frantically, his eyes sliding shut. Claw marks of red, dripping blood, marked the expanse of his throat, open to her eyes by the low neckline of the dress. He stiffened with a last gasp of air and then crumpled to the grass, unmoving. She sighed and leaned froward, checking his pulse to make sure he wasn't faking it.
There was nothing there. No pulse, no heartbeat. Ben was dead. Even better, Glory was dead. No more worrying about that bimbo. She pushed herself to her feet in one fluid movement and brushed her hands off.
Turning from the sight of Ben's body, she approached her friends, anticipating the happiness and relief in their eyes. But that wasn't what awaited her.
Xander's eyes were shut, squeezed tight. When she knelt down to his level, reaching out a hand to touch his face, he looked up at her from his position underneath Anya, disappointment and sorrow showing plainly.
Anya glared at her, saying with her eyes what she couldn't say with words, which was obviously along the lines of, 'Let us go!'. Only with more anger and disgust.
Spike didn't look away. But he didn't look happy either. He wasn't disappointed, or angry, there was no sorrow filling his eyes, no fear, but there was something there. Something she couldn't figure out.
What was with them? She'd taken care of an evil enemy, they should be jumping for joy. "Release," she muttered, watching as they completed their fall. Xander, on the bottom, groaned once or twice as Spike rolled off of Anya and Anya followed suit.
Willow stood as they began to move.
Xander laid still for a few seconds and then sat up slowly, bending his knees as he stared up at her. "You killed Ben," he whispered torturously, his face showing his unwillingness to conceive of the idea. "Why? Why did you do that?"
She frowned at him. He'd been there the whole time, he'd seen everything. Why would he even need to ask? "She was evil," Willow told him, unable to understand why he was looking so disgusted and accusing.
"She?" he ground out, jumping to his feet and grabbing her arms. "She? She was a he, Willow. A man. It was the magick... it made you crazy," he said desperately, looking around frantically with his eyes as if trying to come up with an explanation for her actions. "Ben wasn't evil. He had-- he had nothing to do with any of this."
"Wasn't evil," Spike scoffed, striding closer to Xander to stare at him stupidly. "What the bloody hell would you call him then? He was evil--"
Xander exploded, shoving Spike away from him. "Why? Because Buffy liked him? Because he liked Buffy? Were you jealous, Spike, glad that Willow got rid of the competition when you couldn't do it yourself?" He swung a fist at Spike's jaw, shouting in frustration as Spike ducked away.
Anya stepped in front of him and held him back with her hands on his chest. "Xander, stop it."
"No, Ahn, no, I will not stop-- did you not just see what I saw? Willow killed Ben." Xander clenched his fists and stomped away, glaring at Spike as he paced by him.
"I didn't just kill Ben," Willow told them, imploring Spike or Anya to explain it to Xander. Why didn't he understand? "I killed Glory."
"Glory?" Xander tossed back, throwing his hand out towards Ben. "Glory's not here, Willow. That's Ben!"
"Are you blind as well as stupid?" Spike asked him, staring at him incredulously. He grabbed Xander's arm and yanked him over to Ben's body. "That's Glory."
Xander shook Spike off of him. "No, that's Ben. The intern."
"Ben, the intern," Spike sneered, shoving Xander closer, holding him by the neck as he forced him to look. "Why's he wearing a dress, Xander? Why's he got make-up on?" He let go of Xander's neck and stalked a few feet away. "And why was he wearing these," he asked, bending down to pick up the muddy heels Ben had taken off. "He *was* Glory, nimrod"
Anya shoved by Spike, pushing him out of the way to get to Xander who was rubbing his neck and frowning at the shoes in Spike's hands.
"No, he wasn't." Xander shook his head, looking down at Ben in confusion. "How could that be? Glory was here and then..."
"And then she was gone," Anya finished for him, staring at Spike and Willow like they were the insane ones. "Ben came and-- and... he--" she frowned, glancing at Xander as she tried to remember. "Ben was here." She shrugged, glancing down at Ben. "In a dress."
"He was Glory?" Xander asked cautiously, as if he didn't dare hope they were telling him the truth. "Ben was Glory." He sighed, dropping to a headstone, his eyes shining with relief. "Oh, thank God." He looked up at Willow and jumped up, running to hug her tight. "I'm sorry. I thought--"
"Yeah, we all know what you thought," Spike said in irritation. "We were there for that."
Willow looked at Spike over Xander's shoulder, arching her eyebrows at him. He snorted at her in disgust as he lit a cigarette. "It's okay, Xander," Willow said after a minute, when he didn't let her go. She patted his back once, then again. "Um, Xander? Life's going to be hard to get through with a Xander-shaped person attached to me."
Anya sighed and yanked Xander from her. "Okay. Can we go home now?"
Xander pulled away from Willow and stared into her face. "Are you okay? Something... something happened back there." He held his hand up, motioning to the spot where she'd frozen them. "You went a little nuts on us."
"I did," she agreed, starting to feel the magick fade from her. As it faded, the pain came in its place. "I really did, but I'm good now. It's wearing off." She brushed her hands off, and even emptied her pockets, trying not to touch the stuff. She didn't need any more evil-Willow invading her. Wow, that had been wicked. "It's... oh, ow, oh... pain." She sank to the ground, breathing slowly, holding herself as still as possible without halting her breathing altogether. Her eyes widened as she remembered flying through the air and smacking into a tree. "All that Superman stuff is starting to take its toll," she whispered, gasping for breath.
"What is it?" Xander asked, hovering nearby, afraid to touch her. "What hurts?"
"Oh, just, you know, my everywhere," she admitted, "but mostly my back. And my head." If she stayed there all night, unmoving, would the vampires and other evil creatures of the night think she was a part of the scenery and leave her to her dying? 'Cause, boy did she feel like she was dying.
"It's no wonder," Anya told her with not an ounce of sympathy, "you're not a Slayer. Even Buffy hurts after fighting Glory."
On the heels of the physical pain came the emotional pain. Her eyes landed on Ben's dead, lifeless body. One hand was flung out from his side, the fingers curled in a fist. A fist that would never open again, because of her. She'd killed him. Taken a human's life without thought.
A wrenching feeling twisted in her gut, tightening until she couldn't stand it any longer and began to sob. Guilt and shame washed over her, filling her with self loathing.
Gasping for breath she suddenly didn't have and trying not to hyperventilate, she tore her eyes away from Ben. "Oh... oh God, oh God. I killed him," she sobbed. "I-- I killed him. Oh God."
She felt dirty, like snakes were crawling under her skin.