Summary: Yet another Halloween fic.
Disclaimer: I own... hmm. I own nothing. The bank owns any money I make, at the moment.
Feedback: Why not? It helps me write more and better...
Pre-fic Comments:
WARNING -- some sexual content in this. Don't read it if you're easily offended.
Telepathic speech is written using tildes, rather than speech marks. ~Like this.~
Everything comes to an end, eventually.
* * *
"Still using cheap, bargain basement plaster busts?," Giles asked Ethan conversationally. He picked up a loaded crossbow that Ethan had by his door -- Ethan knew exactly what he had opened shop on top of. The crossbow was large, and heavy. By the look of it, the bolt had some manner of explosive in the hollow shaft, a length of green Visco fuse trailing from the end of it.
Excellent.
"Whatever works, old boy," Ethan replied. "You know that."
Giles walked out the door into the shop, ripping down the curtain dividing it from the back room. Ethan getting an inkling of what Ripper was up to, got up from his chair, crawling out of the room. The Watcher lit the fuse attached to the bolt, then levelled the crossbow at the bust and fired.
The bolt whizzed across the intervening gap. Giles, used to normal, unexplosive, unloaded bolts had aimed a little low and the bolt had driven itself into the pedestal holding the bust on the table.
That worked.
Ethan watched with horror as the high explosive in the bolt exploded, sending shards of wood through the already fragmenting plaster of paris bust of Janus. The eerie power contained in it exploded outwards, ripping the hanging tapestries in the back room to shreds and then alighting them. The wave of pressure from the combined magical/explosive detonation rolled through the door into the front shop area, sending Giles reeling.
A creak announced that the old shop hadn't really liked that, and was about to /seriously/ object.
Giles grabbed Ethan by his shirt collar and ran out the door, as Ethan scrabbled to keep up to avoid being choked or left behind by a Giles that could no longer drag bodies. He held the watcher's wrath to be a pittance besides the permanent state of death by being crushed.
The watcher reloaded the crossbow with a normal bolt held on the undercarriage of the crossbow. He held his foot on Ethan's throat while he cocked it, then levelled it downwards.
"Now," Giles said. "I've seen little children--less than ten years of age!-- ripping their parent's apart in a sickening manner that I hadn't seen for years, and had hoped to never see again. I've seen worse, too, and it's all thanks to Ethan Rayne. If you dare run from me, you'll wish you'd stayed for me to hand you to the Council."
While Giles was normally a pacifistic man, leaving fighting to the Slayer and even then only the undead and the demonic, he couldn't leave such a slippery, evil man to law enforcement.
* * *
Willow regained control of the body of the Elven vampiress, and almost immediately wished she hadn't.
Two boys were screwing her. In public. In both her front door, and her back door. In front of Spike and Drusilla.
Life could get no worse for her, at that point. She sure was feeling good, for some reason, though.
"The bad little kitty cat has left us," Drusilla said, disappointed. "Spikey, make her come back!"
The British vampire's head shot around to look directly at the pile of silken sheets, as did Mayor Wilkins. True to Dru's words, the bluehaired vampiress engaging in sex was reacting far, far differently now than she was half a minute ago. Spike strode over to the pile, and ripped the boy on top off and out of the blue haired woman, then ripped the woman off the boy below her. The bottom youth cried out in pain, as his organ was forced to exit painfully.
A shame that that delicious blood flowing from their bloody designs on their backs were marred by the discharges that seemed smeared over all three of them.
"What the hell's going on here?," Spike snarled.
Willow, alone in a strange place, with strange sensations going through her torso, reacted in a predictable manner.
She kicked Spike in the balls, with all of her semi-vampiric strength, and made a break for it.
* * *
The Marilith had been moving through the sewers to a nest of insect-like demons when she changed back to the Slayer. The power contained in the Greater Demon drained into the ground, as four of her arms were sucked back into her torso and her long tail shortened, melting back into two legs.
Once again, Buffy was a human Slayer with body paint, eye contacts, and fangs. Minus two things.
"WHERE ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH AM I? AND WHAT LITTLE PERVERT STOLE MY CLOTHES?"
* * *
Xander's awakening was /far/ more pleasant.
He regained control to find himself screwing Cordelia Chase, with Harmony Kendall presenting some of her most private parts for his inspection and delection. A brief check of his memories showed himself doing this to most of the female party-goers at the Bronze.
He did have a few questions, though. Why was he feeling so great, and energetic? Why wasn't Queen Cordelia and the Cordette screaming bloody rape?
And why wasn't anyone objecting to them doing this on a sofa inside the Bronze itself?
* * *
Post-fic Comments:
Sorry, I wasn't going to drag this out. Why would Ethan have a high-explosive loaded crossbow? He has an extreme interest in staying alive. Most vampires can't enter the backroom, as it's his private property (not public like the shop floor), but demons *can*. And few demons can survive a charge of high explosives going off in the middle of their lungs. I can't really see Ethan Rayne having many scruples about fair play.
And yes, you can do that to crossbow bolts. Check out the 'Terrorist's Handbook'. Or 'The Big Book Of Mischief'.