Title: The Sacrifices
Author: mispel
E-mail: PG-13
Summary: The shopping excursion doesn't end well. Buffy and Xander make a discovery.
Spoilers: Early season 7
Disclaimer: I own no one and nothing
Feedback: Any comments would be welcome
A/N: Takes place in early season 7, not long after Beneath You and Same Time, Same Place.
Previously: An old friend left something at the cemetery. Two demons fought over a prize. Anya watched Xander and Buffy.
Something beeped as the checkout girl lay slumped over the scanner. The girl's stringy hair was pulled out of her ponytail where her attacker had grabbed it to hold onto her. The checkout girl's cheap and tacky necklace almost got caught in her teeth. It lay on the keys of the cash register where she had thrown it.
The beeping of the scanner was the only sound in the supermarket except for the rustling of shopping bags and clinking of little jars. She was not happy to have to bag her own purchases.
Buffy and Xander had walked almost the whole length of the cemetery. A few times Buffy thought she heard things, but the noises stopped before she could follow them. They found themselves where the graves ended, and there were more trees. Buffy looked into the deeper darkness of the outer edges of the cemetery grounds. Trees grew haphazardly, not yet organized into shade for the cemetery plots. They cast shadows on the grass as darker, irregular patches hidden from moonlight. Maybe it was a nice spot in the daylight, except for the graves. A place to have a picnic with your sweetie. Like those old paintings with half eaten food that were supposed to remind you that life was short or something. Hers was shorter than most. So she should be hurrying, right? Get a life. It's later than you think and all that.
It might have been too late already. Sometimes she felt like she had fallen through the cracks, and her life was already behind her. Just something to reminisce about. Buffy remembered that first rush of love, that almost high feeling. Not that she had ever been high, but what else could it be like. Even just the possibility of it was exciting. Seeing a cute guy, making flirty eye contact with him, having him rip out your bloody and still beating heart and then stomp on it with his stupid, big shoes.
"I should just plain forget about relationships, just give myself up to old maidhood," Buffy concluded.
"Or young maidhood," Xander corrected her.
She was almost there. Her eyes searched crowds less and less for that guy, that face, that body that she, like everyone, believed was there just for her. Weren't we all supposed to pair off? Wasn't that the plan? Then she must have been a straggler, a leftover. The last cookie on the plate - desirable, yet untouchable. But definitely desirable.
"I can be the confirmed bachelor," Xander said with fake enthusiasm. "Or is that just old, 50's code for gay?"
Buffy didn't think about the question. Her eyes searched the darkness for strange shapes, glowing eyes. That was her future - just the next demon. That's why she needed people around her to have good, solid, normal lives. Like people in orange juice commercials.
"You can't give up. I see kids in your future, a house you built from scratch, with your own hands," Buffy said letting her imagination paint a cozy picture as she looked out into the night.
"And possibly some nifty power tools?" Xander added.
"You and Riley, living happily ever after," Buffy continued with a smirk.
"Hey, I liked Riley in a purely hetero way."
"No, that's how I liked him," Buffy disagreed. "You liked him in a 'thank God he's not a vampire' way."
"That was a cool and refreshing change," Xander admitted.
"I know."
Buffy could feel Xander's eyes on her. She hoped that he wouldn't turn the tables on her and start talking about Spike. She knew it wasn't fair to rip bandages off his wounds and then run away. But that was exactly what she planned to do. She was an emotional coward. And she could live with that.
Willow sat on the couch in Buffy's living room, with her legs tucked under her. Dawn was puttering around the house, snacking and instant messaging, playing music and looking for one of her schoolbooks. Dawn had changed into cute pajamas with umbrellas on them. Buffy had told Dawn to go to bed, but Willow didn't feel like enforcing the rule. She was grateful for Dawn's company. The house was too quiet when everyone went to sleep. She had already held Buffy hostage late one night. Now she was helping a teenager defy authority. If Dawn turned to insider trading, it would be all her fault.
Willow stared out the window at the quiet neighborhood. Nothing moved out there. Xander had stopped by in the evening, and then he and Buffy had gone off to patrol. Forcing herself to be very cheerful, Willow had clamped down on how excluded she felt as they left together. But after everything that happened to her and everything she did, Willow knew she wasn't like them. And forgiven or reformed, she would never be again.
Dawn yelled something then ran through the living room holding the heavy textbook over her head like a trophy.
If Xander was going to say anything he didn't get a chance. They didn't have to move far from the cemetery proper and they saw it. Buffy's stomach lurched a little at the thought that it was a dead person. But when they got closer they saw it was just a gross, dead demon, and her stomach settled.
"Have you been slaying behind my back?" Xander asked as they looked over the body.
It was a skinny demon with red splotches on its yellowish skin. Buffy was pretty sure they were just a part of its naturally extreme, demon unattractiveness and not the cause of death. There were strange teeth marks on the side of his head and on his torso. It was like he was bitten by sharp teeth in two rows. Pools of thick, translucent yellow-green blood outlined the body. Some darker, wet spots dotted the ground further away.
"Demon infighting. Saves me the trouble," Buffy shrugged.
Xander poked at the ground with a stick. He used it to pick up something and showed it to Buffy. It looked like a torn swatch of scaly skin, weird dark blood clinging to one side of it.
"Gross," Buffy pronounced after examining it.
Buffy noticed the same scales and blood under the dead demon's long, broken claws. Cause and effect.
"Is this anything?" Xander asked holding up a small, white droopy thing. Buffy moved closer.
"A tiny, white sock? Not his size," she realized.
Xander dropped it back on the ground. Looking around they saw other litter farther away - wrappers and beer cans, half a bike wheel. They didn't keep it very clean away from the main cemetery. Buffy took the demon's body by the feet and dragged it to a less visible spot. She arranged some branches over it and hoped it would decompose quickly. The job finished, she got back and wiped her hands on some leaves.
"Need any help?" Xander asked her, smiling sweetly.
It must have been late. No noises from above. No feet, no bells, no dropped things. But below it was very active. All the crawly things that liked the night were crawling around the high school basement. They made small noises, rustling and clicking. But Spike didn't even hear them.
There was a ticking in Spike's head. Digging his fingers into his temples, Spike tried to make it stop. The ticking was slow, like someone was performing Chinese water torture inside him.
Spike tried to ignore it. Then he started to listen intently. It was trying to tell him something. The beats between the ticks, they meant something. He just had to focus.
He was right. There was a shooshing sound between the ticks, like at the end of the album when the needle scrapes the empty part of the record. As Spike listened, it grew louder.
To be continued