Hey, all. First off, I'm so not a witch. So, just in case any of you people are, well I'm just gonna be vague and noncommittal~like on that front, to avoid snooty reviews saying stuff like, "You made them pray to the wrong pagen god of nature, you idiot!" So, just a little note. The most you'll be getting out of me about the whole wicca thing is 'candles' and perhaps a little light herbs. 'Cause that's all I pretend to know about.
Have a marvelous read, or a decent read, or whatever is possible with this increasingly convoluted story o' mine. And to Dreamzone and all you other impatient people-- plot's coming. It's a doozy, too. It just takes a little time to get set up properly. You wouldn't want me to plunge in all half~cocked, now would you? Big bad will probably be introduced w/in the next two chapters. But I'll try to keep you entertained until then, at least. I got a hit~counter, so I can see how many people read, as opposed to how many review. I'm sure it will be very interesting.
~Star Mouse
@ @ @
Willow dropped Dawn off at the Summers house after school, and Dawn invited her in for some chill time before she headed back to her apartment in the greater Sunnydale area.
Birdie was sitting in the kitchen, talking to someone. She looked up when Willow and Dawn entered.
"Hey, guys! How was school?"
"Homework," replied Dawn. "But it's a group project with Gim, so it evens out." She bounced through the kitchen and out the other side.
"Gim?" Birdie asked.
"Korean transfer student. Nice guy. He's in my first period programming." Willow set her bag down on a bar stool and ran a hand through her red hair. It had gotten longer. She was about ready to cut it again. She looked over at the woman Birdie had been talking to. Pretty.
Birdie realized witch and Watcher were waiting for introductions. "Oh, sorry, Willow. This is Marion Krumpht. She's my new Watcher. I hadn't realized you two hadn't met."
Willow smiled and shook hands. Marion cocked her head in thought. "Willow... You're the one that destroyed the magic shop last time?"
"Oh! Uh, yeah. Wh-why do you ask?" Willow drew her hand back. Not that she was ashamed of her past-- oh wait, she was. With good reason. That this Watcher knew about her little episode with anger~management --as in lack of such-- was worrying. Especially such a dead hot one.
Shutupshutupshutup.
Marion smiled in a way she hoped was warm and inviting. "Oh, during the clean~up efforts this afternoon, your name was mentioned several times. Strictly in a businesslike comparative way, of course."
"Oh. Good." Willow paused. "Clean~up efforts?"
Birdie took her empty tea cup to the sink. "Apparently Marion and Giles had an altercation. No urn left unbroken."
"Oh." Willow realized she had started every sentence with that. She tried again. "Um," damn "What exactly do you mean by altercation?"
Marion gestured to the butterfly bandage on her forehead. "The exciting kind. I'm ashamed to admit I'm the one that picked it, the one that brought the dark arts into it, and the one that lost it."
"Dark arts? I do dark arts!" Willow realized this was probably too enthusiastic a tone, and backed off the volume. But she did notice Marion's slightly~more~interested look. "That is, I did. Not so much anymore, because of the whole 'out~of~control~murderer' thing. I really just said that." Crap. But Marion just nodded understandingly.
"I understand completely. It's fantastic that you're overcoming your addiction. I imagine it's been difficult. You've probably needed a lot of support from your boyfriend, or husband, correct?"
Willow was confused. Was this Marion person trying to find out if she was available? Wicked! No, don't be stupid, Willow. She's just being polite. Ya' know. Like a real person. She sat down at the counter, across from the Brit. Still, as long as she was asking... "The gang has helped a lot, but no boyfriend, per say. It was really actually my girlfriend's death that threw me over the edge..."
Birdie watched them with amusement, and then excused herself to the living room. Marion stopped flirting long enough to call at her.
"Your training regime starts tomorrow, Ms. McGregor!"
@ @ @
Buffy sat uncomfortably on the couch she and Spike had made much lumpier and threadbare than before. Several months ago. She cupped a mug of something not blood. She wasn't paying enough attention to it to identify it beyond that. Spike was walking around behind her, preparing something that was blood. She tried again, slightly desperately, to initiate conversation.
"So... Have you talked to Dawn lately?"
"Yeah. Bit's by most days after school." Buffy turned around, surprised, and he raised an eyebrow. "Oh, did you not know that?"
"Uh, no. She said she goes directly to the Magic Box."
"Pretty much, she does. Just stops round for a little chit chat. Like a certain other Summers I know."
"Yeah. Us Summers girls. Big on the chatty." Gyah, I'm babbling! When did I start babbling again? What am I, sixteen?
"Right. Big on the chatty. You know she's started calling people she doesn't like wankers? I take pride in that."
Buffy set her mug down and stood, turning to face him. He had a pack of blood in his hand, and he was drinking it cold. "You know, you don't have to baby~sit her. I can tell her to stop coming over, if you want," she offered.
Spike sighed. "Slayer, when are you going to figure it out, already? Dawn isn't a nuisance. She's a friend. I enjoy spending time with her. She's one of the few people in this town free of bullshit."
Buffy didn't answer right away. She knew she was included in Spike's list of bullshit people. She chewed her bottom lip, wondering where to go with the conversation now. That old feeling of 'let's kill Spike' was warring with her relatively new feelings of 'let's marry Spike and live happily ever after'. Just because she'd been going with the latter recently didn't mean the other one was totally alien. She ducked her head and took a sip of whatever it was she'd been holding, pressing her lips together as she swallowed to catch drips. She slowly set the mug back down on the beat-up table. C'mon, Buff. Gotta reestablish eye contact at some point.
When she looked up, he was watching her. She narrowed her eyes at the look on his face. If she didn't know better, she'd think that was his 'I'm gonna rip your clothes off' look. She hadn't seen that one in a while. The 'I'm gonna rip your clothes off' look was usually followed by the 'I just ripped your clothes off, and damn you're beautiful' look. She really liked that look. But the 'I'm gonna rip your clothes off' look had distinct plusses also... Wait.
Cautious realization dawned.
"You still want me. Don't you," she whispered. It wasn't a question. He absently licked his lips, glancing down at her.
She took a step forward.
He shook himself. "Don't be absurd, Slayer."
Spike turned away, taking another pull at his bloodbag. Buffy swung him around by his shoulder. Like hell was she going to let him run. Running sucked.
"Who's absurd?" she whispered. And before he could protest --like he would-- she yanked him down by the fabric of his shirt and shoved her tongue down his throat.
Less than a second later, he slammed her up against the wall, and demonstrated to her just who had the more dexterous tongue.
And then they were kissing. Groping too, hey, always good, (ohyeahsogood) but kissing.
Buffy felt a surge of hope. It wasn't a perfect situation, and he tasted like blood, but the chemistry --all that roiling, boiling, smoking, acidic, violent chemistry that made her feel like she was going to explode-- was still there. It couldn't disappear. She had been so afraid that it had, that he really felt nothing. But now she knew differently. He still felt something. He still felt it... He had to.
Pulling back slightly for the oxygen only one of them needed, she whispered into his mouth, "I love you..."
Abrupt as a brick wall brake, Spike shoved her away, and she slammed into the refrigerator.
"Get out," he whispered, low and savage. He wiped his mouth and turned his back.
Buffy pushed herself off the refrigerator, breathing hard. "Spike--"
"Get out, Slayer. And don't come back. I mean it. I don't want to see you unless we need to save the world."
Heart still hammering way too fast she gasped out, "Spike, what the hell?!"
"Get out."
"What. the. hell. is. the. matter. with. you?" Buffy took a few Slayer steps forward. She was trembling with fear for her nearly shattered heart, and rage. A lot of rage.
Spike turned back around. His eyes were glinting yellow and as he spoke
his teeth flashed slightly longer than they normally would.
"I said get out."
"You're being completely irrational, here. Don't tell me you didn't feel
anything just then!" Her voice was rising, getting all high and shrewish
like she hated. Treacherous mouth. Damn damn damn.
"Oh, gee, I'm sorry, Slayer. Guess I've just had a few too many kicks to
the head, is all. Screws your brain right proper. Makes you do the stupid,
makes you think the insane.
He stalked forward in a very vampiric way. Buffy was suddenly and acutely aware that he could full well kill her here. And she couldn't kill him back. She nearly backed up, but she was rooted. Spike only stopped his slow approach when he was a hairsbreadth from her face, looking down on her.
"Us? That was insane. Only someone off his bleedin' rocker would fall in love with a shallow. egotistical. bitch like you." His gold and blue eyes locked with her teary hazel ones.
"'m better now."
There was a moment of silence, of stillness, broken only by tiny sobs. Buffy wept, and a tiny corner of Spike's brain --and soul-- wondered if perhaps he had gone too far. He was almost ready to offer some noncommittal half~apology when his world exploded and he went down.
"Bluh'y hell!"
"You bastard." Buffy wiped her eyes with one hand, the other still clenched in a white~knuckled fist. "You utter utter bastard. I hope you fry to ash in hell."
And with that, she did her own signature stalk out of the crypt, thoughtfully leaving the door open, and Spike effectively trapped in the corner, wiping the blood off his nose.
@ @ @
Dawn peered down the stairs into the living room, praising heaven above that the witch and the watcher weren't engaged in some sordid lesbian lip lock. It looked like they were still talking about magic stuff. Like they had been doing all afternoon. Birdie had gone out about an hour ago for pizza. No one seemed to know where Buffy was, yet.
God, did Dawn want to learn magic. She had tried a few spells on her own, and nothing had exploded that wasn't supposed to, but she was kind of leery of getting in too deep without some sort of guidance.
Granted, a former addict still going through slight withdrawal wasn't exactly the best teacher to have, but she trusted Willow. And everyone seemed to agree she was one powerful wicca. And she sort of needed to get started, like, now.
She waited until there was a lull in conversation, and then called down the stairs.
"Willow? Is a tange root supposed to be black?"
It was a carefully constructed question, guaranteed to illicit the desired response. It suggested an experiment was in progress, that she was semi~knowledgeable, and that if assistance wasn't given, it could go horribly wrong. Tange roots were used in some of the more challenging, dangerous spells out there, the ones that dealt with strong emotion and occasional teleportation. She knew this.
She also knew full~well tange roots were supposed to be green. She had had to wait months for the fresh one she had gotten from Anya to turn.
It was about ten seconds before Marion and Willow rushed into her room.
"Sweetie, don't do it!" Willow looked ready to forcibly tear a chant apart, and Marion was right behind her, looking just as panicked.
Dawn was sitting on her bed, surrounded by candles, holding the rotted root in one hand. Spell book open on her lap, notebook of latin translations beside her in the circle. She had spent quite a while manipulating adults, and she liked getting her way. Magic was darn well going to be her way. She would not be the only one on this team without something to offer. Even Xander had merit as the lugging boxes and comic relief guy. She wanted to help, and this was how.
On with the show.
@ @ @
Birdie jogged down the sidewalk, balancing three pizzas over her head. There was a large cheese, for Dawn, a spinach~artichoke for Marion and Willow, who --gasp!-- liked the same thing, and a cheeseless vegetarian for her. She really wished Buffy had a car.
There was a scream to her right.
She sighed. "Oh, come on! It's barely sundown, people!" She dropped the pizzas and pulled a stake out of her waistband. Buffy had shown her all sorts of cool places to hide stakes. She ran into the dark alley on the roadside, where a guy was being accosted by a skanky~dressed vamp.
"Hey, blood~sucker. Dinner looks a little reluctant. How about a nice stake instead?"
Buffy was also trying to teach Birdie the art of battle~banter, but it was slower going.
The skank~vamp dropped the guy --who didn't appear to be really hurt, what with all the screaming and running away-- and turned to Birdie.
"Yes? Can I help you?" she lisped through her fangs.
"Yeah, you can help me by standing very very still," Birdie replied, jumping forward.
The vamp wasn't, apparently, one of the kung~fu proficient ones. She went down without much effort on Birdie's part.
Birdie dusted the ...dust... Off her pants, or actually, Buffy's pants, and looked around for any interesting jewelry of a prophetic or symbolic nature, just in case the vamp had happened to drop it. Giles' suggestion. No go, though. She replaced the stake in her waistband and jogged back to the pizzas, still undisturbed.
As she headed back to the Summers' like a good little hunter~gatherer, she muttered under her breath.
"Hey, blood~sucker-- how bout some stake with your ...meat. No. Um... '....Blood~sucker-- why don't you try a little stake sauce!' Oh, that sucks. 'Blood~sucker-- have some.... Hey vampy! Kick some bucket..."
@ @ @
This is just the first step in getting Buffy and Spike together. Buffy was
being too wimpy. It was hard to write, and she was getting on my
nerves. Let's hear it for kick~ass Buffy! Yay! She's back, and she'll
probably be doing a few trips to 'Personal Angst Land', but things can
only go up from here.
I'm trying to figure out a good spot to bring the Buffybot into the main "plot". Helpful hints?...
~Star Mouse