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We Wear the Mask
We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be overwise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!
Paul Laurence Dunbar
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05. Quies Quietus
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With a flux of air, the world came rushing up to meet the Slayer as her booted feet set down on softly packed soil. At once, Buffy experienced an acute loss of the constant buzz her body had become accustomed to from the Hogwarts' magic infused environ. The summer sun shone bright in a clear blue sky, warming her skin as she picked her way out of the magnificently green copse. Just as she'd remembered, the bronze statue of Peter Pan stood atop its circular platform, gleaming a rich russet under the brilliant sunshine, surrounded by several obvious tourists who failed to take notice of her abrupt emergence from the nearby woods. Buffy let her gaze flicker over the playful features carved onto the statue of the eternally youthful boy for a brief moment before she wryly shook her head. The grass is always greener on the other side, I suppose... Inhaling deeply the fresh morning air, the petite blonde began a leisurely stroll down the paved walkway.
Tucking her hands into the pockets of her light jacket, Buffy let the splendor of the breaking day wash over her, drinking in the sight of the world that she had saved over a dozen times over. It had never really occurred to her before to take the time to appreciate it before. And life goes on, she thought suddenly as two conversing joggers sprinted past her. The world keeps turning, and the people keep living their blissfully ignorant lives, never knowing the risks we took, the sacrifices we made. A young couple walked along the path from the opposite direction, the man pushing a baby stroller in front of them. For a moment, Buffy thought she was okay with that as the woman paused in her step to give the man a peck on the cheek which earned her a goofy grin in return. The blonde Slayer's lips involuntarily curled into a smile as she gazed down at their beautiful infant girl suckling on her pacifier, clad adorably in a paisley-print sundress. She had wanted so much to be able to hate them, hate the whole world. But she couldn't. Deep down, Buffy knew that she could have easily walked away at any point after Sunnydale, only she hadn't—although not from the lack of trying.
It was long after the sun had set that Buffy finally got up and found her way to the Grand Entrance. Raising a hand, the petite blonde hailed a cab and slid easily into the backseat as the last notes of a familiar-sounding tune played from the sound system.
"Evenin' miss," greeted the driver in a jovial Scottish accent. "Where to?"
Buffy slipped him the address she had written on a small piece of paper. "I'm not sure where exactly that is."
The cabbie's eyebrows soared upward as he glanced at the address. "Blimey, that's a posh part of town. It's only 'bout five minutes from here. Do you mind if I keep the music on, luv? I'm a stickler for oldies," he asked as another song began on the radio with a soft saxophone solo and swelling strings arrangement.
She flinched slightly at the familiar term of endearment. "No, I don't mind," she managed to mutter out the reply as a haunting female voice began the first verse of the strangely fitting lyrics.
Monday finds you like a bomb / That's been left ticking there too long / You're bleeding
Giles almost choked on his tea. Setting the cup and saucer hastily down on his desk, he asked, peering over his glasses at her in pleasant surprise, "You're being absolutely serious?"
"I am," she nodded in the affirmative.
"Good heavens, this comes as a bit of a shock after seeing hind nor tail of you for the better part of five months." He smiled widely. "Oh, what am I saying? We'd love to have you back, we've all missed you. But—" he asked, his tone wavering as he considered what she'd just intoned. "—what of your well-deserved rest, Buffy? Isn't it what you've always wanted? A chance at a normal life? To be just a girl again?"
Buffy wanted to laugh at that. A normal life—it was such a deceptively simple concept. She had been so happy after Sunnydale, euphoric even at finally being freed from her sacred duty, from the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders. With high spirits and even higher dreams, the veteran Slayer had taken her sister and jetset across Europe for the summer without a single destination or goal in mind save to taste true freedom for the first time in seven years. It hadn't taken long for them to fall in love with Rome. After enrolling Dawn in a prestigious art school, Buffy had then proceeded to live out the carefree existence in the following months that she'd only dreamed about during her teenage years. But amidst the whirlwind of days spent shopping, partying, and meeting new men, she had gradually found herself plagued by restlessness, boredom, and a growing, uncontainable feeling that something was missing in her new life. She felt as if something monumentally important was occurring around her, but she hadn't been a part of it.
Some days there's nothing left to learn / From the point of no return / You're leaving
"A normal life? God, I don't even know what that means anymore. I tried, Giles, I really did. I thought that if I could just focus on seeing Dawnie through school and reclaiming my misspent youth I'd finally be content, happy. But I was wrong. I can't will myself to be that shallow, California blonde cheerleader anymore. It was just a dream, Giles. A stupid, girly dream to keep me going all those years, the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel—well, besides that gift of death anyway," she replied with an imperceptible shake of her head.
Hey hey, I saved the world today / Everybody's happy now / The bad thing's gone away
Giles stared deeply into the Slayer's expressive hazel eyes as he mused over her confession. Exhaling a deep sigh, he picked up his cooling teacup by its narrow handle and rotated it in his hand absently. The Watcher remained silent for a long time before he spoke with a small frown pulling at his features. "You know, I still remember that night perfectly in my mind, and in particular something Spike had said to me."
Her gaze snapped back to him in shock. Those were two touchy topics that her former Watcher never broached in conversation with her, and she had suspected never would. Unconsciously, she straightened in her seat as he continued to speak with his eyes trained on the teacup in his hand.
"He surmised in so many words that you had surpassed me." Giles lifted his gaze upward to lock with hers with a raw intensity burning in his eyes. "You were right in what you had said," he began softly, setting down the cup once more as he tried to best decide how to articulate his many regrets. "I... I didn't have anything more to teach you, but I was too blinded by hurt and my own ego to recognize that at the time," he murmured, contrition carrying heavily in his voice. "And in the end, you saved us all in spite of our collective treason, and displayed an astounding level of maturity by never saying 'I told you so' when you were by all means entitled to it and more. I'm sorry that I doubted you, Buffy."
Everybody's happy now / The good thing's here to stay / Please let it stay
For a long moment, a thick silence settled between the Slayer and Watcher before the blonde shifted a little uncomfortably in her chair. She hadn't been expecting an apology from him, it's not like anyone else had ever made the effort. Certainly, no one had ever even apologized for ripping her out of Heaven two years before. "Giles, I—" she paused, sucking in a breath. The veteran Slayer had never told them that part of her reason for leaving was because she could never look them in the face the same way again. For a fleeting instant, she had even wanted to leave Dawnie behind with them, to cleave all her previous attachments in one fell swoop.
Doo doo doo doo doo the good thing
Because all she saw in their familiar visages were the bygone days of her youth and all she felt was the lingering sting of their careless betrayal, even if she had forgiven them all long ago. She had to try very hard to not divulge the fact that they had cut her deeper than any enemy's strike ever could. Seven years as the Vampire Slayer and she would have been broken at last by her own best friends and family if it hadn't been for Spike's heartbreaking speech in a stranger's expropriated house. Giles was right, Buffy never once told them 'I told you so' afterwards. It would have been all too easy to hurt them like they had hurt her. Instead, Buffy Summers had reverted to well rehearsed form; she hid her pain behind smiles and nods and plowed onward to what she did best: saving the world. And they never had a clue why her smile would sometimes falter.
There's a million mouths to feed / And Ive got everything I need / I'm breathing
"Why are you saying this?"
And there's a hurting thing inside
"Because I can't justifiably employ you until I had that off my conscience," he answered slowly, a small tentative smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
But I've got everything to hide
"So, you'll hire me?"
I'm grieving
"Hire you?" Giles parroted incredulously. "Buffy, you're the longest living Slayer in five centuries and in my admittedly, slightly, biased opinion the greatest Vampire Slayer in all recorded history. Of course I'll hire you, I'd be bleeding insane not to."
And so, Buffy had thrown herself headfirst into a new life of the occasional world-saveage and fulltime task of training green, little girls, whom she hoped would never have to lead the kind of tortured existence she had. And she never once looked back. Much to her chagrin, the Slayer had arrived at the realization then that she could no longer abide her days without a purpose. Sighing wearily, she made her way down to the memorial playground and settled into an empty swing seat. So, what's my purpose now? Buffy asked herself dispassionately as she watched the day pass with shadowed eyes, surrounded by the tinkling laughter of young children and the idyllic backdrop of a world that would never know of her existence.
Hey hey, I saved the world today / Everybody's happy now
"We're here," the cabbie announced as they pulled to a stop in front of a high-rise, modern apartment complex that was for a lack of a better word exactly as the driver had said: posh.
The bad thing's gone away
Climbing out from the backseat, Buffy barely heard the driver as she gaped at the extravagant edifice of Angel's condominium that she had unwittingly inherited.
"That'll be twelve pounds, miss."
Everybody's happy now / The good thing's here to stay
Pulling her wallet out from her purse, Buffy took out a twenty and handed it through the window to the cab driver. She turned back to stare at the building as the cab began to pull away from the curb. "Wait!" she called out suddenly, quickly catching up to the moving vehicle.
"Yeah, lass?" the cabbie asked, lowering his driver-side window once again.
Please let it stay
She bit her lip as a wave of stricken panic crashed upon her. It was too soon. Besides, it's not like Angel's houses and apartments will up and disappear. She quirked an eyebrow in thought. Most likely not, anyway. "Can you take me to a nightclub instead?" Buffy asked after glancing down for a quick appraisal of her outfit and deciding that she was appropriately attired. "Preferably one of the non-sleazy variety?" she added.
Please let it stay
"Sure thing, luv. I know a few places," he replied as she resettled into the backseat.
"Thanks." Buffy leaned back into the seat and expelled a ragged breath in relief. She wasn't ready, not yet at least.
Let it stay
-
Buffy caught the vampire's lecherous side-long glance as she slid into the adjacent bar stool. Leaning her elbows on the bar's counter, the petite blonde flipped her hair casually over her bare shoulder, exposing the side of her neck as she eyed the assortment of colorful bottles that were sitting on display in the mirrored shelves.
"Can I buy you a drink, sweet?" the vampire asked.
She turned in her seat to face him then, and found that the vampire was actually quite attractive, if she cared enough to look past his shortcoming of being a card-carrying member of the evil undead. She didn't. "Thanks, I'll have a double shot of tequila straight," she answered with a perky grin. After eleven years as an active Slayer, Buffy Summers had perfected the fine art of vamp baiting down to a tee. Always so predictable, she thought scathingly as the vampire ordered her drink with the barkeep.
"So, what's a pretty Yank girl like yourself doing in London?" he grinned, sweeping his gaze over her form.
Buffy shrugged lightly, "Not much. Just doing the tourist thing for the summer."
"Is that right? How are you liking the London scene?"
"That remains to be seen," she answered, arching a golden brow playfully.
The vampire chuckled in a rough laugh as her tequila came, taking another drink from his own beer bottle as she watched her tongue dart out of her mouth to lick the salt on the rim of her glass before downing the shot in one gulp.
"Buy you another one?" he asked as she sucked on her slice of lime.
"Okay, thanks! A whiskey then. But no more after that. Alcohol and I are nonmixy things," she pulled a face, playing up the dumb blonde act.
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Buffy kept up her end of the inane small talk, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally asked her to dance. The veteran Slayer found the British vampire's seduction routine utterly unoriginal as he asked her after their fifth dance if she wanted to step outside for a spell to 'get some fresh air'. Instead of criticizing his complete lack of creativity, Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned bodily into him. "I thought you'd never ask," she purred seductively into his ear and had to try very hard to stop herself from cracking up at the subsequent eager puppy look that drifted across his handsome features.
Letting him lead her out of the back exit, Buffy found herself none-too-gently pressed up against an alley wall and one cold hand skimming up her side before wriggling underneath her top while the other cupped the curve of her ass. The vampire nipped her earlobe before kissing his way down to the nape of her neck. Hmm, not strictly dinner then? Briefly, she entertained the sadistic thought of letting him fuck her right then and there in the dingy alleyway and staking him just as he came. Pulling a disgusted face, she shoved aside the harebrained idea—the dust would have been a major problem. Mentally shrugging, Buffy kneed him hard in the groin without warning. Immediately, the vampire fell onto his back in agony. "You bloody bitch!" he yelped in surprise.
Buffy straddled him then, grinding down on him painfully and covering his groans with a hand over his mouth. She leaned down and whispered kittenishly into his ear, all the while pulling out a thin stake from the side of her boot, "I'm sorry, but I'm going by 'Skank' nowadays. 'Bloody bitch' was so last year. And I don't fuck vampires anymore. Plus, the whole bloodsucking thing? I've decided that it pretty much just plain sucks," she quipped lightly while sitting astride him, waiting for the vampire to retort back. All she received for her patience were more groans and a few feeble attempts to buck her off his person. Frowning slightly in disappointment at the complete lack of a fight, the blonde Slayer reared back her stake and thrust it into the vampire's chest in a flash of movement. Her knees hit the ground as dust littered the ground. With a disappointed pout, she quickly brushed off her pants before disappearing with a soft pop.
"Well, that was unfulfilling," Buffy remarked softly to herself as she touched down in the Forbidden Forest's inner woods. She inhaled deeply the subtle scents of the forest—pungent, moist earth; fauna and flora; and decay. There was magic in the Forbidden Forest that ran darker than those of the castle, she could almost feel it permeating her skin as she crept through the dense undergrowth, moving silent and deadly through the shrouded shadows and patches of light cast by a luminous full moon.
Before Buffy had been called, she had always categorized herself as a daytime and indoors kind of girl. Her former self had flourished inside the domain of sprawling shopping malls and the sunny expanses of Californian beaches. Now, she only felt truly alive under the infinite skies at night with the moon and stars hanging overhead. She supposed it was because with each death she dealt, she felt the Buffy Summers part of herself slip away just the tiniest amount and the Slayer take its place. Buffy wondered if given time, she would really become the emotionless killing machine the old Watchers Council had wanted her to be. She hoped she wouldn't live to see the day. She didn't hold the same concern for the new Slayers, however. In truth, she and Willow had changed more than the selectivity of the calling; they had altered the destiny of the Vampire Slayer. Buffy and Faith were the last vestiges of the old order, tragically fated to face the impossible task alone.
The new generation of girls had each other now. Slaying wasn't their life, it was their exciting and sometimes dangerous extracurricular activity. She wished that she could say the same about herself. You talk about slaying like it's a job. It's not. It's who you are. The veteran Slayer hadn't taken Kendra seriously when her Jamaican counterpart had told her that. But now, Buffy couldn't help but see the truth in her sister Slayer's words. She couldn't stop being the Slayer any more than Faith could, although for different reasons. And in the end, neither had used their seniority to delegate their responsibilities. Faith had admitted to her once that she still felt obligated to atone for her turn to the side of the bad guys all those years before. And herself? Truthfully, Buffy had forgotten how to not be the Slayer, and when push came to shove, she didn't trust anyone else to get the job done.
Every once in a while Buffy would make out shapes moving deep in between the trees and hear the rustling of fallen leaves, but nothing slay-worthy, much to her disappointment. The pathetically lackluster staking at the club had left her brimming with manic energy and a need for physical release. Her ears suddenly picked up the thumping of distant hooves, they were approaching fast. Buffy ran towards the noise, branches whipped past her face as she flew in a blur toward her destination. She halted to a stop when she reached an opening deep into the forest. A team of majestic centaurs galloped past her, the wise and ageless stewards of the woodland realm. Whatever they're trying to get away from must be bad then, the Slayer reasoned as she recognized white-blonde haired, palomino centaur amongst them. "Firenze! What are you guys running from?" Buffy called out after him.
Firenze doubled back in haste upon hearing his new friend's voice. The centaur cantered to a stop in front of the small blonde Slayer, his piercing blue eyes appearing slightly worried as he gave a brief but formal bow in greeting. "My brethren and I are being pursued by a Hungarian Horntail. It is unnatural in these parts, highly dangerous. You must make haste, Miss Ashbery!"
A sudden gush of wind and dimming of the moonlight shining from above were the only warning signs Buffy received as a fifty-feet long black dragon touched down before them. The Slayer's eyes widened in amazement as they quickly took in the sight of its tough leathery hide, three-feet long claws, and a thick tail barbed with sharp spikes at the end. Wow, Angel and Spike weren't kidding about that dragon after all... she mused as the Horntail bellowed and swung its tail at Firenze. Snapping back to reality, Buffy instinctively shoved the centaur off to the side. It was a half-second too late for her to completely evade the vicious swipe. The spiked tail collided with Buffy, sending her tiny form flying back a good twenty feet before her back crashed into a tree trunk with a loud thud, all the wind being knocked out of her lungs upon impact.
Shaking her head slightly to clear the muted stars that were now clouding her vision, Buffy pulled out the dagger she had hidden inside her other boot. Focusing on the dagger intently, she watched as it elongated into a heavy broadsword before staggering unsteadily to her feet, ready to face the dragon when she noticed that Firenze was pacing protectively in front of her. Buffy clenched her jaw in mounting frustration. What? Is he stupid or something? Now's really not the best time to be playing the selfless hero! "Firenze, GET OUT OF HERE!" she snapped sharply.
Recognizing that the dragon was already regrouping for another strike, the veteran Slayer risked offending the noble creature by giving his hindquarters a forcible push, propelling Firenze toward the path to safety before dodging just in the nick of time to avoid the spiky tail that slammed onto the ground two feet off to her side, leaving a large indentation in the ground. Firenze finally raced away, shouting over his shoulder, "Use your gift, Ms. Ashbery!"
Before Buffy could ponder what the centaur had meant, the deadly tail came at her again. This time, she swiftly ducked under it and swung her sword at the exposed underbelly, but the sword simply glanced off the thick hide like a flimsy toothpick. Buffy wracked her brain frantically. Gift, gift... death? No... oh, DUH! She almost smacked herself. The petite blonde dropped the sword and pushed her right arm out toward the dragon, palm spread outward. The Horntail was instantly catapulted backward by an unseen force. The Hungarian Horntail roared menacingly in indignation as it beat its massive wings to launch into the air for an aerial assault, but could not for its life advance a single inch toward its target.
The Slayer was getting tired, she knew she would not be able to hold the spell for much longer. Think, think, think. A stunning spell maybe? No, it won't last... immobilizing spell? No, same diff. Buffy's right arm was beginning to become numb from the vast amount of blood loss she had sustained as well as from the strain from maintaining the exhausting spell. Shit, my arm is falling asleep. Sleep! That's it! Mustering all of her remaining strength, Buffy chanted firmly in her head while keeping her eyes trained evenly on the immobilized dragon, Quies Quietus!
The Horntail immediately sagged onto the ground with a grunt. Buffy exhaled a ragged breath and slumped forward, falling to her hands and knees. She looked down and appraised her appearance for the first time. The dragon had given her three deep, closely spaced, diagonal slashes. The first ran from just underneath her left breast to the other side of her ribcage. The second spanned the width of her stomach. The last began at the bottom of her left ribcage and ended just above her right hip bone. The blonde Slayer wouldn't have thought much of the injuries had the gashes not revealed pale slivers of the bare bone of her ribcage.
Buffy picked at the bloodied, tattered edges of her shirt. Ew, gross, much? Really wishing I had learned healing spells already, right about now. Oh well. Somehow, she found the reserve energy to climb to her feet once more. Picking up her fallen sword with much effort, the tiny blonde warily approached the supine dragon. Buffy nudged one of its thick arms with the tip of her broadsword and was satisfied when it didn't respond. Sighing, the blonde Slayer knew she no longer possessed the strength to apparate into the castle. Grimacing, she began the long trek back, not even caring to tread lightly this once. Glancing down at her wristwatch, Buffy saw to her relief that it was half past twelve o'clock. At least she wouldn't be seen. Who else would be crazy enough to be out in the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night?
-
Seconds later, a short blonde girl appeared along the path, arms wrapped protectively around her abdomen as she struggled onward towards the castle. Severus's keen eyes narrowed as his gaze fell upon her bloodied hands. But is it her blood or something else's? mused the Potions professor as he deliberated on whether to make his presence known to the strange girl clothed in trendy Muggle fashions. Suddenly, it looked to Severus as if he would not have to make the decision after all as the young girl paused, twisting her head round in his direction with a frown pulling at her fair features. She was exceptionally pretty even by his captious standards, almost spritely, but what truly drew Severus's attention was the cold, predatory glint in her eyes as the girl advanced closer to his hiding place behind a dense thicket.
Electing that he might as well take advantage of the element of surprise while the option was still available to him, Severus leapt out from the bushes at the girl without warning, training his wand five inches above her heart. "Who the bloody hell are you and what are you doing here?" he questioned in a low, dangerous voice as the tip of his wand flared to cast the stranger's frame in sharp relief to their darkened surroundings. Much to his consternation and shock, the blonde girl simply rolled her eyes in response, appearing altogether unbothered by him and the wand he held at point-blank to her chest. "Same to you, buster," she retorted in an exasperated tone before promptly fainting.