Shifting Powers
The fight had lasted almost an hour. Sorcery scarred the Summer's backyard with smouldering blast marks. The air was thinly saturated with a grey haze. Desperation had come to the Fearal demon and the body of the witch he controlled. He had bargained for a battle he could not win. There had been no decisive blow, no fatal mistake had been made. The other demon's trickery rivalled his own. The Hand had simply outlasted him. Why do I weaken so easily? This girl. This girl is one of the most powerful witches I have come to possess. And yet, her powers wane.
The Fearal slowly rose to his feet, eyeing the red demon that walked towards him. The girl's arm was limp and bleeding. The Fearal held it tightly. It is the other world that prevents me from using my full power, but I cannot free them just yet. Her friends must give into their fears so I can feed and regain my strength. An idea came to his mind and he made Willow grin.
The Hand's tone was cool. "Is that the last smile of a dying warrior?" He raised his palm in the air, and a thick stream of yellow and orange fire wrapped his own body like a snake.
The Fearal was quiet. He gazed at the demon with black eyes, breathing steadily. Willow's body was damaged, but she still had fight left in her. Her head lowered like a predator.
The Hand smirked as if laughing at the Fearal's attempt to stand his ground. "Just tell me where Buffy Summers is, and I will leave you. Must we prolong this one-sided death match? Should you choose to keep your tongue silent, then I will end you. Decide quickly, I cannot stand staring at your mongrel figure much longer."
Willow's smile was demonic. She stood straight, raised her index finger and curled it towards herself.
The Hand growled. "I shall enjoy watching you burn." He flung out both hands, fingers spread wide. The flame sped from his body like a jet stream.
The gigantic flame acted like a screen, blocking The Hand's view of her. The Fearal teleported away just before the fire hit him and rematerialized behind the demon. The Hand realized what had happened and tried to turn around, but it was too late. Willow slapped her hands on the demon's head and shouted words of Latin. Energy exploded from them like lightning.
"ARRRGH!" The Hand screamed. "What do you think you're doing!"
Willows expression was ferocious. "You want Buffy? I'm just lending you a hand. Search for the dark temptress. Find Drusilla, and you will find Buffy."
The Hand's eyes widened, his struggle fading. "Drusilla," he said in anger.
There came a blinding flash of white light, then silence. The Hand was gone. The Faeral dropped to his knees. Willow's power had been drained. He's their problem now.
. . .
The Chinese bar was filled with soldiers from many different nations. The Chinese empress had chosen to ignore the Boxer rebels, so foreign powers had to intervene in order to keep their political interests protected. The empress, it seemed, also chose to ignore the demonic presence that was running rampant through the country. Perhaps she thought nature would sort itself out.
The American soldier drank the last of his tankard and slammed it down on the table. He looked around at his fellow soldiers. His eyelids sagged and he had a silly grin on his face. He made a circular rotation with his head before raising his tankard again. "More beer girl! Rounds for my men!"
The Chinese waitress looked sheepishly at the man behind the bar counter. The man hopelessly sighed and gestured her to serve them more drinks.
"Captain," yelled one of the soldiers. "Tell us again how you fought off those savage warriors!"
The captain raised a brow and smirked. "No no. Enough of me for a while I think!"
Xander gave a mental sigh. Thank, god. If I had to listen to this drunk bastard another minute, I would have grabbed the gun beside me and shot myself. Okay, maybe not, but I would have definitely inflicted head trauma. This guy is tipsier than Buffy on a night out with Spike. He needs a slap across the face.
The captain suddenly raised a wobbly hand and smacked himself across the cheek. Everyone stopped talking to stare at him. The captain shrugged and burst out laughing. His men followed to the point of breathlessness, fists bounced on the table.
Ow. Hey, wait a minute. I just slapped myself. Himself. Whatever. Hmm, I wonder if I can...
The drunk captain stood from his chair and turned like a top being rotated by unseen fingers.
Yes! Xander you genius! I have control. I have the powwwerr! Xander took a moment to feel out his new found control over the captain's body. He touched his body, and then tried touching his face. His own finger poked his eye. OW! It's like being in a virtual SIMs game, but your character doesn't do what you want him to because his brain's turned to mush.
"Oy captain! Getting a little frisky there?" shouted one of the soldiers.
"Take it elsewhere sir! We don't want a show!" The soldier in the arm sling started cracking up.
With pleasure you louts.
"With pea soup laddies!"
Leeeet's not talk until we're sober.
Xander forced the captain out the bar doors, and he nearly fell face first into the ground. He could feel himself get dizzy. His mind was no longer just an observer in the body, he had replaced the man's consciousness. He tried to look around. Aside from the sun being out, and there being other buildings around him, he couldn't focus clearly enough for anything else to register. He tried to straighten himself. A bright white ball appeared in his blurred vision. He squinted at it and it appeared to get larger. A powerful force knocked him backwards, but somehow he was able to stay on his feet. A strange sound like the crackling of electricity screamed through his ears. He looked again in the direction of the white ball, but it was no longer there. It had been replaced with a red blobby figure. Xander squinted harder and was able to make out two large arms that were wrapped around its legs. The thing was sitting in a fetal position and it appeared to have a long black thing sticking out from its head. It slowly stood up and its gaze seemed to lock onto Xander's position. Xander frowned, and then his eyes widened, realizing it looked exactly like a demon. It was wearing black pants that had scorched holes. He was shirtless, showing his large, red colored chest. The demon stepped towards him, but Xander did not move. He had the feeling he was supposed to be running or something, but there was no urgency in his body.
"Where is Buffy Summers." His deep voice made Xander tremble. "Where is that accursed woman, Drusilla!"
Xander stumbled backwards. "Buffy? Buffy..."
Panicked screams sounded from all around as people in the area started running away.
The demon's face was inches from Xander's nose. He could do nothing but stare back.
"Who're you?" Xander mumbled.
"Your saving grace little man. Grace from your worthless existence." The demon raised a hand and backhanded the soldier across the face. The fact that the human was still standing seemed to bother him. The demon frowned and backhanded him again.
Xander felt like a bobble head. It felt like his brain was bouncing off the walls of his skull. He had a sudden urge to throw a punch, and after a few seconds of planning the right muscle movements, he formed his hand into a fist and gave the demon an uppercut to the chin.
The red demon was thrown into the air and landed in a thud a few feet from Xander. Xander studied his fist in awe. The demon wiped his mouth and rose to his feet as if an invisible hand had picked him up.
"How–" The demon eyed Xander intensely and his eyes lowered to hand where a black ring wrapped his finger. A smile appeared, then he produced a full fledged chuckle. "A Kejada ring? I guess I shouldn't be surprised after that bloody witch brought me here."
Kejada ring? Xander looked down at his finger. Oh yeah. Sam gave it to me at work. Hey, I guess it works now. Sweet. His gaze slowly raised to the demon, and he gave a predatory smile. Very sweet.
"Sigh," the demon said as he sighed. "I don't have time for this."
"Make time," Xander growled. The smacks to the head must have sobered Xander up. He took the gun from his holster and aimed at the demon's head. He could feel the muscle training of the captain work through him. "What do you want with Buffy? I really don't like demons all up in my face, so I'm giving you about three seconds to answer before I blow your ugly head off."
The demon chuckled again. "You aren't serious are you? A human with borrowed magic can't defeat me, and neither can that primitive weapon." He snapped his fingers and three balls of fire appeared over his head. They floated there a moment then launched forward.
Xander fired two shots and rolled sideways. The fireballs flew into the bar behind him. Wood and splinters exploded. Xander looked up to see if he had hit the demon. Judging by the sadistic smile on his face, he had missed, or rather, the demon had dodged them somehow.
Stand still you bastard.
. . .
"Do you hear screaming outside?"
Spike walked up to the curtained window, and then looked back at Buffy. "Well, I would look out the window, but then I remembered – no, I don't want to burst into flames."
Buffy twitched her nose. "Well. We can't just sit in here. What if the others are in trouble?"
"Nothing, we watch happily, or rather not watch, from the sidelines."
She groaned in frustration. "I can't stand this. Only being able to fight at night is stupid. Vampires are stupid." She sat down on the bed and crossed her arms.
He dimly smiled. "Not so easy, is it?" Whenever the real Drusilla made a pouty face, it was usually after she threw her slippers off the balcony, or when she accidentally popped the heads off her caged birds. It was a quirky trait that both women carried, and he admired it.
"I wish this nightmare was over."
Spike's tongue touched his bottom lip. "Oh come on. It's not all that bad. You liked the part with you and me. Right?"
She walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek. "You're right," she said with a nod. "Before I was all with the loom and gloom, but then I told myself, Buffy, it's time to stop being miss miserable, it's time to give into my desires and be... well a little naughty." Her words were spoken with pep, as if she didn't want to say them seriously.
"Well alright then!" he said a little surprised. He slyly smiled. "Naughty is very good."
She lightly slapped him on the chest. "Come on Spike. Can't this be like a nice romantic moment?"
"Sure," he said gently hugging her. He ran his fingers through her hair. "I wish I could see your goldilocks hair," he murmured.
"Oh! That's it!" She jumped and slapped both hands on him. "A wish! Wishes!"
He curiously frowned. "What? What about them."
"Anya was a vengeance demon!" her eyes were bright. "She's like a few hundred years old right? So if she was sent back into the past with us, she would end up in her body from this time."
"Yeah. So?"
"So dummy, she would have her demon powers in this century." She moved to the center of the room and readied her hands at her sides. "You wouldn't happen to know how to summon a vengeance demon would you?"
"I don't make a habit of it."
"Oh right." She stood thinking for a moment. "Anya," she shouted. "Oh Anyaaaaa... Anya it's Buffy if you can hear me..." The room was silent aside from the shouts still sounding from outside. She looked at Spike. "Maybe I have to be scorned by a man."
He raised a brow. "Well don't look at me," he said calmly.
She placed her hands on her hips. "How else are we supposed to get her attention?"
"I don't know. Think about one of your reject boyfriends. I seem to recall a whole closet full."
She scowled. She closed her eyes and tried to look really hurt about something.
He smirked. "You're thinking about Angel aren't you?"
"No," she said defensively. "Shush, let me concentrate." After a moment, the small smile on her face faded, and she opened her eyes. "Oh... oh oh... I am a sad woman in need of someone to help me inflict my vengeance upon a man!"
Spike brought a palm to his forehead.
A grey cloud flashed in the space between them, and a red haired woman appeared, wearing a fancy white dress. Her hair was done up in a bun. The demon faced Buffy.
Anya slapped her hands on her thighs. "Oh so there you are!" She reverted to her human face.
"You were searching for us?" Buffy asked in a curious expression.
She half smiled and wiggled her head. "Well, no actually. I got carried away wreaking vengeance on mankind. Then I felt hurt, belonging to someone very familiar." She raised fists in excitement. "Oh I forgot how good I was at the vengeance!"
"Fascinating," Buffy droned. "I think something's going on outside the building. Can you teleport outside and see what's happening?"
"It is so weird that you ended up in Drusilla's body again. I mean, what's up with that?"
Buffy stared at her. "If I knew the answer to that, I'd be a happy camper Anya. Now if you–"
"Alright. I'm going." She waved her hand and then disappeared.
Five seconds later she reappeared, a very confused look on her face.
Buffy widened her eyes. "Well?"
"There's two demons fighting outside. Well, just one demon. The other is a very strong man. Also... quite attractive."
"Did you sense anything familiar or strange about them?" Spike asked.
"Well, the soldier is clearly under the influence of some kind of spell to be able to take a hit from the demon and not die." Her eyes narrowed. "Be right back." She disappeared again and Buffy exchanged bemused glances with Spike.
She appeared again pointing a finger in the air. "That, is Xander," she said quite sure of herself. "I can recognize him because of his girly screams. And also because he called out my name when he saw me."
Spike gazed at the curtained window. The light behind it suddenly dimmed. He slowly drew the curtains back and looked upward. "It's gotten cloudy and not by natural means." He squinted downward. " The beasty down there is cooken up some nasty magics."
"That puts us back in the game," Buffy said firmly.
"I finally get to beat the daylights out of something," Spike said rubbing his hands together.
Anya folded her lips in. "I should also mention that the thing down there is a Knawl demon. And from the power I'm sensing, one of the most power to have ever existed. He could be... well, in some circles, he is known as The Hand." Caution filled her tone.
Buffy's eyes widened slightly in recognition.
"You know him?" Spike asked.
Buffy kicked the bed post and grabbed the wooden splinter that fell from it. "Not yet, but I hear he's a fan."
