BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER

ONCE AGAIN WITH FEELING

By: Robert Underwood

There were some things that people were never meant to get their hands on, simply because they don't understand its power or purpose. Wants and desires run rampant through them, giving them the tunnel vision necessary to see only what the item could do for them…and not what the item was meant to do in the first place. Consequences and repercussions go abound when such items are used, turning hope and despair into crestfallen misery and massive guilt. For many reasons such as this, whenever she found such an item, she held onto it and kept it out of the sight of anyone who might misuse it. Sure, this meant that all these items were grouped together, and if anyone found them it would mean a world of trouble, but she had taken great care to hide them. And if anyone did find them…well, she could handle a world of trouble.

For the most part, the items were small and could fit into a jewelry box. And yes, the box was locked, even though the lock itself was pathetically small and weak. It had been a while since Buffy had opened it to throw in her latest catch, but something was bothering her and resolution, she felt, was strongly needed.

It had taken weeks to prepare. Having told no one of her intentions, it took her ages to research the proper incantation and binding spell and to gather the necessary ingredients. Once she was ready (or rather, hoped she was), she took off, proclaiming patrol duty, and left the apartment for the outskirts of the city.

The rain fell lightly that night, hitting the cobblestone roads and shingles with much trepidation. Buffy paid little attention as she hopped onto her moped and took off. The rain didn't bother her, though it was becoming a new experience. Having lived in California all her life, she only remembered it raining only once, and no even for a whole day then. Naturally she didn't drive during that time; she was too preoccupied with other matters. And she didn't have a car. Now as she rode down the streets of Rome, she thought back to that painful day, and did her best to forget about it. Her life was full of sob stories—one right after the other—and dwelling on them never helped her since more were always on the way.

It took her forty-five minutes to reach the outskirts. She shot down a well-lit alley and, making sure no one was around, she set up and cast the binding spell. Then she removed a golden pendant-sized talisman attached to a necklace chain from her leather jacket and cast the incantation to summon the demon. He appeared in a bright, orb-like white light, circled in all its area by streaking rainbow colors. The lights combined, stretched out, took human-like form, and dissolved, leaving a red demon in its place. Tall and bald, he had an extra layer of skin that reached from his forehead to the back of his head like a thick sliver of rubber, centered at the end of which on his forehead sat a yellow, oval-shaped jewel. His ears were pointed, the left one pierced by a small golden hoop earring attached to the upper part of the pinna a little below the arch. He wore a red suit, black shirt, red tie, and black and white tap shoes. He looked at her amusingly with those piercing blue eyes that contrasted with his dark red skin and stroked his extended chin thoughtfully. Buffy had to admit that his chin looked like a Pharos' beard, giving the demon a more regal-like appearance. It suited him, considering his purpose.

"Well, well, well," he said in his base-toned voice. "Of all the people I expected to summon me, I didn't expect you. Got a song in your heart?"

"Not quite," Buffy replied. "And I wouldn't sing it any way. Since I…mispronounced…part of your incantation, you're not fully corporeal, so you have no sway here."

"Then why the binding spell?" he asked, looking around on the ground at the item-clad pentagram surrounding him.

"To keep you in place. I have a sneaking suspicion that, even in ghostly form you can still do some damage."

He still looked amused. "At least you're more knowledgeable than your friend. When he called me, he couldn't quite say the summoning part correctly."

"Which landed you in the Bronze rather than before him," Buffy finished.

"Actually I appeared by the docks. The Bronze just made for a more comfortable hangout." Buffy nodded, but said nothing. Neither did the demon.

After a few moments of silence, Buffy finally asked, "Got a name?"

The demon smiled at her. "You've already asked me that."

"Humor me."

"I have a hundred. Which one would you like?" The glint in his eyes was unmistakable; he was still playing games.

"I don't have time for this—"

P He interrupted. "Then tell me what's on your mind, sweet thing."

Looking him dead in the eyes, Buffy took a deep breath and questioned herself for the umpteenth time. Was she ready to ask? Did she really want to know? The talisman began rolling between her fingers as she moved them, a clear sign of her unease if anyone were to drop their gaze to her hand, which rested at her side. Of course the demon did just that, looking even more amused afterward.

Another deep breath, and Buffy gave up her inhibitions. She went this far, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to see it to fruition. "You're in the hearts of every living creature, right?"

"The mind, technically. Everyone seems to forget that emotions and feelings come from the brain."

"So you've been in the minds of everyone, humans and demons alike?"

"I still am. I am song incarnate, and I am in everyone at all times. For everyone who sings on stage, in the movies, on TV, in the shower, or just hums to themselves, I am their driving force."

So the answer was yes (albeit longwinded), which was what Buffy was hoping to hear. "So if you're in our minds, then you know why we think and act as we do."

His smile dropped slightly. Despite Buffy's adult appearance, he felt as if he were talking to a child just because she asked that question—or rather, made that statement, since she didn't actually ask anything. "I'm not a telepath. The only things I know about everyone—humans and demons alike—are what they sing about. I know your darkest secrets and deepest desires."

"Good enough," Buffy responded, hoping that was enough for him to answer her ultimate question. She took another deep breath. "Less than a month ago I ran into a few demons—well, actually, hunted them down is more accurate, but still—" The talisman spun faster in her fingers. "I was doing my usual Slayer stuff—fighting, killing, et cetera et cetera, and at one point I was chasing this Fyaral demon in the sewers. He ran for about a mile before falling down a sudden drop where the pipeline ended, and when I landed on top of him to do what I'm good at—" she paused briefly, quickly discarding the disturbing sexual imagery that had just popped into her head, "—the thing actually spoke to me. He screamed, 'I don't kill!'

"Those three words gave me great pause. When I first started out as the Slayer, everything was so black and white. Humans, good. Demons, bad. Therefore demons must die. Then as I grew into my role, I realized it wasn't nearly as simple as I'd originally believed. And somehow, I lost track of that."

"Understandable, after what you did to cause Sunnydale to fall."

Buffy looked bewildered at him, and incidentally stopped rolling the talisman. "You know about that?"

"Every demon knows everything that happens in the underworld. The Hellmouths are our homes, our origins, and home spreads word very quickly. It's quite understandable that you would revert to your original prejudices after fighting Lucifer."

Buffy's eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "I didn't fight the devil. I fought The First Evil."

He smiled amusingly again. "Lucifer is known by many names and forms, my dear. You didn't make the connection? Evil originated within him; he is the embodiment of it. I assumed you were smart enough to figure that out, since no Slayer has lived as long as you have. Looks like I was wrong." Buffy said nothing. It was clearly written across her face that she never thought of the connection before, but he could feel that there was a question burning deep within her, one he would have helped her get off her chest were he in complete form. "Did you wind up killing him?"

Buffy shook her head. "Of course not. The First is too powerful…not to mention intangible."

He gave a throaty, dominant laugh. "I meant the Fyaral."

"Oh." Buffy's cheeks blushed slightly in the lamp light. "I was too stunned. He slipped out from under me and took off before I came to my senses."

His eyes glinted. Despite not having complete hold over everyone, it was quite clear that he was enjoying this conversation very much. "I'd be stunned, too. I've never heard of a Fyaral that didn't kill."

"Oh, this wasn't a first for me; actually, the second—long story on that." Her mind briefly fluttered back to her memory of Giles being turned into a Fyaral, and how she came so close to killing him, had he not looked so annoyed with her for doing so.

The demon reached out for her, stopping short of the invisible barrier's edge. He placed his palm against the edge of the circle, placing it in front of her heart. "You're not asking me the ultimate question. I can feel it inside of you, bursting to get out."

Buffy nodded. "I want to know why."

Now it was his turn to be confused. "Why, what?"

"Why. Why do demons exist? Why are they so evil? Why aren't they all evil?"

He removed his hand from the barrier, but kept that damn smile of his. Buffy hated it. She felt like he knew everything about her just by looking and felt like he was going to use that knowledge to his benefit. "'Why do demons exist?'" he repeated. "You may as well ask why humans exist, or why the dinosaurs did. We don't know where we came from any more than you do. Our origins are just as lost as your own. Unless you believe in various religions that tell you where everything came from, of course. And demons are so evil because we're more corruptible than humans are. We're primal creatures. And as for why not all of us are evil, why don't you ask those that aren't? I only know wants and desires, not history."

Along with the light rain, there was a slight chill in the air. Buffy felt goose bumps forming on her arms. She ignored the sensation. "Being in the minds of billions, surely you must at least have a hypothesis."

His eyes twinkled. "You look for a simple answer I cannot give you. We are who we are, just like you are who you are. I can no more explain my ilk than you can explain yours. Your ultimate question has no one answer. And unless you want to hear an hours-long presentation, there's nothing I can tell you that you don't already know."

Buffy's heart sank. How did she know he was going to say that? And why did he still look so amused? Buffy found it quite irritating and intimidating. In fact, without thought, she blurted out, "Why are you so smug all the time?"

This solicited a large grin and another throaty, dominant laugh from the demon. He didn't answer. It was just as well; Buffy was through listening. A few choice words later, the demon was sent back to wherever he came from and the binding spell dissipated. She twirled the talisman between her fingers again for a few seconds before finally pocketing it. She then gathered all of her materials and threw them in the nearest trash can.

Making her way back to her moped, she replayed the entire conversation in her head. Riding back to the apartment, she wondered if, even non-corporeal, the demon had been completely honest or was just up to some demony tricks. By the time she returned home, she still wasn't sure. And what the hell was his name!