Oh, look: chapter! Yay! I really have things I should be doing instead, and yet I still find myself typing this story which really serves no purpose. What's wrong with me? Oh well. I hope you enjoy the results. And if you like the Teletubbies, I ...don't apologize, actually. You shouldn't like the Teletubbies. They're evil in its purist form. Burn the dolls.
~Star Mouse
@ @ @
Buffy sighed. A week since the wedding, and she still had that stupid march stuck in her head.
Bummmbum buh bum... Bum buh buh buhmm.... Arghh!
She flopped back into the couch, holding a Powerbar, like always. There was a slight shudder in her fingers. It was like a tic, now. She couldn't control the demon totally. But she hadn't told anyone, yet, about the slipping control. She wanted to hold out until she found it...
She knew it had to be somewhere. She knew it without reading it, but she had to have confirmation. Giles had been amazed, and slightly concerned, about the rabid energy with which Buffy had dived into the role of Research Girl.
The shaking hand suddenly clenched. Buffy watched in shock as the Powerbar oozed between her fingers, out the sides of the wrapper.
And it kept on clenching, past the point where it starts to really hurt. The Slayer gasped in pain as her own nails dug into her palm. Her conciousness clouded, and she could feel the demon rise up through the pain, taking that shuddering instant to take control.
And in the brief moment it maintained dominance, all was white, and all was painless.
Then the will of the Slayer surged forward, beating back the demon in her head, like she would a demon in a graveyard.
Buffy fell back into the couch again, gasping. She could still feel the demon's feelings.
It felt pain.
She looked down at the crescent~shaped dents in her palm. No blood had been drawn, but it still ached like a mother.
That had very nearly been the end.
She had lost.
The demons that had become the bane of her 'normal life' were invading the very depths of her mind. It wasn't enough to forstall any chance of her having a social life, or a life at all. They had to take her away.
She'd never really lost to a demon. Sure, she'd end up pinned, and helpless, and moments from death, but eventually their plots were blown apart and good triumphed. But she couldn't fight as well from the inside.
That was where she was weak. That was the core within the core of adamantium. The squishy core of a crybaby at heart. Attack there, and she couldn't win. Couldn't fight.
The demon was getting too strong. The next time it gained the upper hand, it could very well end up keeping it. She couldn't fight it.
So she'd have to stop fighting.
Screw the books. Buffy hopped off the couch, grabbed a light jacket, and left, quietly.
@ @ @
Birdie stood behind the counter at the Magic Box, reading up on Spike. Just out of curiosity.
There was a light~hearted chime from the top of the door in the front as it opened to the night. As she had been given strict instructions by Anya beforehand, the Slayer looked up with a smile, and recited the practiced lines:
"Hello, welcome to the Magic Box! My name's Birdie, don't mind the scars, can I assist you in a purchase?"
"Uh, no, that's okay. I'm just looking, thanks," replied Willow.
Birdie dropped the wattage on the smile down to a more natural level.
"Hey, Willow."
Willow nodded back and wandered over.
"So. Doing some researchy things?" she squinted at the page, then raised her eyebrow, "about Spike?"
Birdie shut the book, blushing slightly. "Just curious. Serious. I'm trying to figure out how to best approach the 'him/Buffy' thing."
"What him/Buffy thing? As far as I know, they're totally through."
"Oh." The Slayer wrinkled he brow a moment. She shrugged. "Oh well."
Willow lowered an eyebrow, gesturing at the book, seeking to include in the gesture all things Blonde.
"I really think that's one convoluted relationship you should just say no to. Cupid probably got his little head snapped off a while ago."
Birdie considered the analogy. "O-kay....." *Smile flashes like a camera bulb* "I'll just meddle in yours instead!"
Willow backed away a step. "M-mine? I don't have a relationship!"
Birdie cocked an eyebrow. "You don't. My Watcher? Way hot in a kilt if you're into that kind of thing... Ringing bells yet?"
Willow ducked her head. "Oh. Right. That."
"Yeah. That."
"Well, the thing is..."
Birdie did that slight shake of the head as it sort of shrugs forward thing that Faith used to do. "What?"
Willow cringed. "I'm not sure she's gay."
Birdie blinked. "Oh. That's sort of a problem, isn't it? But she was totally checking you out that first day! She has to be!"
"Well," Willow twisted her fingers. "I can't really tell. I mean, for all I know, she could just want platonic friendship, or- or have a crush on Xander or something. And I don't want to just ask her..."
"'Are you gay?'"
"Yeah."
"Yeah, I know that."
There was silence.
"What?" both women asked at the same time.
Birdie started over. "Well, maybe you should. Just, you know, bring it into the conversation gradually. Like, 'Hey, Barney is such a fruit, by the way, are you gay?'"
Willow lowered her eyebrows. "I don't think that's the best option."
"Okay then, how about--"
"Ah! That's okay, thanks. I'll ...figure something out. That doesn't involve derogatory terms or ignorant generalizations. Or references to braindead, colorful creatures."
"Like the Teletubbies!"
"Yeah."
"..."
Willow and Birdie shared a shudder at the thought of Teletubbies.
Willow shook her head, eyes squinted shut. "Br! Eugh. Now I have to watch the comedy channel, or something, to get that image out of my head."
"Sorry."
@ @ @
Buffy reached Spike's crypt late. She had strolled the whole way, afraid to work up a sweat.
Ha! The Slayer, afraid to work up a sweat. If that wasn't the final defeat...
Oh.
She was here.
She faced down the stone wall. It didn't blink.
She hadn't been by recently. At Spike's request, if you recall. He didn't mind hurting her, that was obvious. And that's why it had to be him.
The others cared too much. The others wouldn't be able to do it right.
With just a hint of her old defiance, Buffy pushed the door open and walked in without knocking.
The interior was dark. Of course. But not even candles were going now. There was a slight flickering light of another sort coming from below, though.
Buffy descended the ladder.
@ @ @
Spike was watching an old black and white movie about a living corpse.
Quite funny, really.
But he suddenly smelled Slayer.
When Buffy came down the ladder, he watched her. And his eyes followed her warily as she adjusted her clothing and approached.
"Hey."
"Evenin'," he returned. Thoughts of the last visit swarmed in his head.
Stupid head. Shake it off.
"And to what do I owe this honour?"
"Strictly business."
"For a change."
"Yeah, well, I--. Could you turn that damn thing off?!"
Spike blinked, then glanced at the set, still spewing sound and light. He reached a hand for the remote and muted the movie, without taking his eyes off the Slayer.
"Go on."
Buffy rubbed the back of her neck. How to start...
"I need a favor."
"Do tell?"
@ @ @
There was a knock at Marion's door.
"It's open!" She turned from her research to see Willow enter. She offered a warm smile.
"Hey, you. How're ya? Found any more on the spell we bolluxed up?"
The red~headed witch paused. Oh. There were more important things than love~life going on, weren't there. Possession of best~friend a major deal. Maybe this wasn't the best time. Then when?
"I, well, no, I just had a quick question for you."
Marion guessed by the stuttering that this was something serious.
"Go on."
"Uh..." Willow bit her lip, seemed to give in to some inner flight~or~fight voice, and turned her back.
"Areyougay?" she asked the wall.
There was silence from behind. She peeked over her own shoulder, and half~turned back around.
Marion was watching her, partly concealing an amused smile behind her hand.
Willow bit her lip again. "Uh..."
Marion let out a little snort, rolled her eyes, stood, and gave Willow's gnawing lips a gentle kiss.
"Quite," she replied.
@ @ @
"I need you to do something for me," Buffy started again.
The vampire sighed. "Anything." And it was true. He'd still do anything for her. Habit, probably.
She made eye contact. "Kick my ass."
There was a moment of silence.
Then: "You mean," he gestured with his leg, "literally?"
She removed her jacket, and draped it over a rung of the ladder. "I mean beat me up."
He shook his head. "Is this some sort of test? Are you testing me now?"
"No test. I need a good beating. It's the only way to hurt the demons setting up camp inside me. I'd do it myself, but. . ."
"Bit difficult."
"I'm losing control. I can feel it. It's getting harder. If I was able to weaken myself, I'm not sure my personality would stay dominant. If I started the job, I'd probably lose control before I finished it. I need someone who can take me down in full out freak~mode."
Spike bit his lip. "I can't say the prospect of giving you a good beating really rankles...."
"I knew you cared. Come on. I'm worried. I totally lost control earlier. It was just too strong. I have to get this body weak before I can do any real damage." She walked over to stand in front of him, and braced herself. "Let's aim for hospitalization."
"Are you sure there's not another way, luv?"
"No. Giles can't get a handle on them. Willow can't exorcise them. Birdie can't kill them. I obviously can't control them. If you want to help, if you want to be part of our little family, you're going to have to put me out of commision."
She bored into his eyes with her own. "For Dawn. This creature made her cry. Don't let it happen again. And I have a feeling if this thing got my body again, it wouldn't stop at just taunts, or locals."
Spike watched her for a moment. She wasn't trying to impress him. She was just offering up her pain to save the world. Again. She looked so totally...determined. No hesitation. No fear, not really. And she was coming to him. Because it had to be him. He was the only one around who could fight her, could hurt her. She was swallowing a bitter pill, turning to him, and it didn't deter her. This was the Slayer.
He lashed out, sending a fist to her gut before she could blink.
It was the least he could do.
Buffy doubled over coughing. Spike pulled off his duster, throwing it across a chair. "How'sat, pet?"
Buffy's head snapped up. "Just fine," she hissed. Spike turned at the voice. That wasn't Buffy's voice.
And it wasn't Buffy's face. Not with that sneer, so much like his own.
"Ah," he said. "And who might you be?"
The features shuddered, and for a moment he saw the Slayer.
"I--thanks--" she managed, before the demon took control again.
@ @ @
Hope you liked. Tell me what you think. Please?
I know, technically, Buffy could have probably left Spike out of that whole thing entirely, and gotten Giles to drug her. But when has anyone in BtVS ever taken the easiest road? Besides, she likes subjecting herself to the most pain possible, so it makes sense that she would seek out the most potent, hot, British, blonde source available.
~Star Mouse