Shadows of the past
By Kur
Author: Kur <Kurhux@hotmail.com>
Disclaimer: nothing is mine. Only the plot.
Rating: G?
Pairing: Buffy & Spike
Spoilers: Season 2
Summary: Buffy gets more than transformed by the costume in S2's Halloween
and discovers the reason she couldn't ever beat Spike.
Thanks: to Melissa, my wonderful, extraordinary beta. She's the best!
Note: italics are for thoughts.
SHADOWS OF THE PAST
CHAPTER 1
She was so afraid. She didn't remember any particular moment in her life in
which she had been so terrified. Yet, she couldn't remember ANY moment in
her life but that wasn't the point. Everything in this place was so strange
and horrible. Their manners, their behaviour, their outfits. Everything.
Everybody was so violent! Even the air hummed with a terrible mixture of
noises: shrieks, yells and tears. She was curled in that spot of another odd
place of that house, cupping her ears with both shaking hands, her eyes wide
with fear as the man's face changed to that of a monster. She never knew how
she managed to get to her feet and put them in motion to run as far as she
could from him.
The streets, the lights, people running, all were a blurring line while she
escaped praying to find some shelter, some refuge to hide from the hideous
creature that was chasing her. A filthy and dark alley blinked its eye and
she welcomed it, jumping into its narrow embrace.
"I don't mind what you have to do to get rid of her! Knock her unconscious,
tie her up, whatever. Last thing we need now is the Slayer." - Ethan paused
for a brief moment, gaping at the man in front of him with sparkling eyes.
"Forget that. She's not the Slayer anymore. She is wearing the dress! Oh,
my, isn't this glorious? I'm going to send her so far away that Rupert will
mourn over an absent body! Not even a finger for him to grieve on. Go and
find her. Take this - he handed a yellow paper to his subordinate, - and
when you spot her do exactly as I say."
"This is just. neat! The most fanbloodytastic night in years! Anarchy in
S.D. Don't know what I want but I know where I get it." But I do know! And
just bloody here! Look at all the goodies in such a delusional state,
thinking they're real demons! Only they are not and it'd be so easy to
dispatch them in the most unmerciful way! I wish the Slayer'd be wearing a
costume. I wish I could find her defenceless and crying and..."
The sudden crash sent him to the ground with a resounding thump. The lady
didn't even give him a second look but continued her madly race along the
alley, sorting boxes and piles of rubbish as she went. Spike jumped to his
feet, really cross. What the hell? I'm going to rip her throat out! Sodding
girl.
A fat boy appeared from nowhere and pinned her to the nearest wall. A
pirate, no less and you're out of water my friend! The lady is mine to. The
streetlight shone on her horrified face and Spike stopped on his feet. The
Slayer! The Slayer just as he had dreamt to find her. Only a damsel in
distress and so close. He started to run towards them, grinning as a madman,
anticipating the pleasure of. Another man, dressed in an old-fashioned
tuxedo, appeared beside them, grabbed the nit's neck and sent him flying
across the slim lane. Spike checked the boy's path and ducked just in time
to avoid him. Precious seconds, though. She was accepting the man's helpful
hand; she trusted him enough not to pay any attention to the door that
emerged from a cloud of blue smoke just in the middle of an impossible
place. She was so grateful from being rescued that she was taken by surprise
when the man gave her a powerful shove to send her through the opened door
and shut it behind her.
"No! You fucking wanker!" - Spike was blind with rage - "She was mine to
kill! She was..."
The blow was so hard that he ended among the dustbins. The two rows of
cardboard boxes that were piled next to them shook and quaked till they fell
over him. He yelled insults for another second till his voice became weaker
and faded away.
The man turned round in a hurry to face the new group of people behind him.
The leader grabbed him by the collar; his eyes looking above his shoulders
to the door on the wall.
"What have you done with her?" - his sharp long teeth glimmered under the
lights.
"Don't fuss so much, vampire! She is gone and so are we!"
The door and the man evaporated in the same bluish cloud leaving Angel
gawking at his empty hands; an angry groan growing in his mouth.
Her temple collided against a wall and the world seemed to writhe for a
crazy moment till it finally got still. Buffy grunted behind the wooden
boxes while she rubbed her ass vigorously. It hurt like hell. Wait till I
put my hands on you! You're going to beg for mercy, mister! Why on earth had
he to push me so hard? Wasn't enough to just say, "Here", and point at that
stupid door? Wait a minute. Where's the door?
"If only I could get rid of these strands of synthetic hair, I'll probably
find it." She pushed them out from her eyes but no matter how she tried, it
was impossible to remove the wig from her head. It seemed glued to it
permanently. She was about to get to her feet when a sudden bump sounded
against the boxes and the world beyond them seemed to get black. White
fabric had covered the joint between them. There's someone there! Someone to
ask. Muffled voices, grunts and a growl slipped along the damp alley. It was
enough to make her remain behind the box. Not the right time for asking
about anything if she didn't want to get another wound in her gut. A
clattering sound and then the joint was free again. Buffy risked a glimpse.
A woman dressed in a dirty old-fashioned gown was picking up something from
the floor. Coins! They flickered under the lamps with a wicked twinkle.
Okay, this Halloween thing was getting worse than she thought. Getting paid
for a quickie as if it was common day stuff wasn't exactly funny.
This must be some spell. I must.
She couldn't complete the sentence as she was dragged from behind the boxes
by a strong hand. "Hey, watch it!"
"You're a mucky lil'creature, ah? Think ya can duck there and nick clients
from me? Go somewhere else, tiny dirty flea!"
This wasn't happening. A woman was pulling her arm and jostling her body
along the alley and she hadn't been able to get rid of her iron fist! Where
was her super strength when she needed it? She finally landed in another
street, wider this time, on her sore ass. Again.
A few kids came to watch at her closely. Buffy grimaced at the look of their
clothes. Who on earth had disguised them as poor stray children? Their
parents must be the most perverted adults in the whole galaxy! One of them,
a sympathetic smile dancing on a stained face offered his little hand and
she doubted only a second. Come on, it's only a costume, you silly. Once on
her feet she withdrew her hand in a hurry. She could have sworn that she'd
actually see the fleas jumping from the coat-frayed fabric like divers in an
Acapulco cliff.
Buffy quickly thanked them and began to walk as fast as she could. Dizziness
was trying to take her down but no way in hell she was going to stay there
for them to."Okay, let's stop for a minute. Lean against this wall and
recover your head. And while you're at it, why don't you take a look around?
I can't be THAT lost. It's my city, damn it!"
There was a bunch of people gathered in a corner around a bin. They're
rubbing their hands above the orange dancing flames and Buffy realized only
at that very moment how cold the weather was. Three dim streetlights cast
shadows on them. She shook her head briefly. They looked like a postcard; an
old painting that had lost its colours. Buffy raised her eyes. The
light-posts were strange, black as made of iron, and the light that
flickered behind the dirty glass didn't seem as a bulb but as a.flame. A
wavering flame. And the buildings. Brown brick walls with one or two doors
and small grimy windows squeezed against each other, fighting for climbing
higher into the rancid air.
Buffy started to walk, slowly at first, then at a hurried speed. From some
thresholds, hidden in shadows, came a distant noise of children squabbling
and angry unintelligible prattle. A siren howled in the horizon and three
more squealed in reply. Her pace became a race. Dogs were barking somewhere
but she was too busy trying not to twist her ankles on the cobblestoned
streets. Cobblestone? WHERE AM I? Something pulled the hem of her long dress
sharply and forced her to stop. A skinny dog was chomping at the fabric as
if it'd turned into the best of the steaks. "Oh, please go away! I can't
stay the whole night playing "Tug-of-war" with you!" Buffy kicked its nose
but it took her three more attempts to make the squalid bastard ran away. It
didn't go very far, though. It stood nearby, staring at her from behind an
ugly man that was scowling at her with a nasty glare. A grin was curving his
lips showing nothing but two rows of sipping gums.
Buffy looked down at the torn pink skirt, up at the disgusting man, ahead at
the rows of narrow streets. Her feet decided before her own mind and they
flew across the pavement at their own rhythm. It was hard to breathe
properly due to the corset that constricted her chest and the horrible
smell, a mixture of filth and vinegar that wandered in the chilly breeze.
Four blocks ahead, she allowed herself a stop. The sudden rattling of a
train caught her eyes. A bridge. There was a bridge near. Without even
thinking she lurched on it. The heels of her boots clattered on the stoned
footpath while her hand slipped hurriedly along the ornamental balustrade.
The river flowing down below was a dark ribbon frilled with golden laces.
The shocking glimpse that she caught by the corner of a weeping eye froze
her to her bones. It was impossible! "I'm having the most horrible nightmare
of my life. No strength, no special powers, a simple and ordinary girl, lost
and THAT is not there 'cause this is a dream and I'm going to open my eyes
NOW and it's going to disappear. Come on, open your eyes. Do it!" Ding,
dong. The bells mocked her with a cruel ring and the round face of the clock
gawked at her scornfully from the distance. Ten o'clock. Big Ben's ten deep,
husky laughs.
A sea of masts wafted on the waters of the Thames pointing at the full moon
astonished for having the chance to see its beauty instead of being wrapped
in a thick fog. Coldness there was unbearable. She had no choice but to keep
on going. If this IS a bad dream it doesn't matter where I go 'cause I'm
going to reach only one point: the sweaty sheets of my own bed. "What if
it's not.? No, no, no, no, no. Don't you even consider that!"
She went down the steps of the bridge and started running again. The whole
place was awful! "If this is London I so prefer SunnyD!"
"Oh, look what the cat 'as brought!" - all of a sudden she was grabbed
violently by an arm and forced to turn round. Two men leering at her, again,
and why the hell wasn't she paying attention to the streets? "Isn't she
beautiful mate? Where were ya garn lil' princess? Think ya should stay for a
while. It's so bloody chillin' tonight. Why don't ya sha us your treasures,
princess?"
Disgusting hands crawled to her breasts as Buffy fought back the fingers
that torn the dress neckline. Her nails traced three gashes on the shaggy
cheek. "Catty bird! I'll teach ya sum manners!"
The hard slap reopened the wound on her temple and a rush of pain severed
her head in two like a passing lightning bolt. Oh, don't panic! Super
strength or not you have to get rid of these bastards! She ducked in time to
avoid the next blow, jostle the man aside, kicked the other one's balls and
didn't stay to a further battle she knew she couldn't win. Instead, she
resumed her race and only stopped to inhale deeply. The dots that had been
dancing in front of her eyes became circles of violet and red. I can't keep
on like this. I'm going to spit my lungs on the road and then, bye, bye,
home.
A sudden echoing sound reverberated along the pavement stones. Buffy tried
to turn round hastily but she hardly even moved. The approaching carriage
was a hellish demon determined to run her over. The only sound that she
could hear was that of the hooves beating the street as drums marking a
holly ritual. The horses went bigger and blacker till they filled every
corner of her horrified eyes and engulfed her into a poisonous darkness.
He was exhausted. Ten o'clock and he was still on his way home, worried
about his mother and more worried about the bills that his little salary
wouldn't be able to cancel. He'd like a better job; something that had to do
with his Oxford degree but it was pointless. Since his father had died, they
weren't in any position to discard anything. They still kept the house, of
course, but what would happen when the small amount of money that was left
in the bank disappear? He'd never been concerned too much about those issues
before. At least not until Dr. Gull came out with the awful and inevitable
truth. "Consumption", he said and the word seemed to have grown as a hideous
beast that swallowed every thread of air from the room. The following
nights were a bunch of sleepless hours that only left him a pair of reddish
eyes and a tremendous marble globe where his head had been. He sighed,
spying through the window at the beautiful night. I hope tomorrow will be as
wonderful as this. I can't wait to see how Cecily shines under the
moonbeams.
"Oh, for all the." - his forehead cracked against the window frame when the
carriage made a harsh and sudden turn. The angry voice of the driver mixed
up with the staccato of heavy boots.
William sighed again mulling over getting out or staying in there, safe. The
shouts were noisy enough to make up his mind. If that fellow kept on
screaming like that he would probably be at home by midnight.
The man was bent over some figure clad in a dirty pink silk dress, pulling
her arm as if he wanted to rip it off from its socket. "Get up, ya lousy
rascal! Won't let ya ruin me night, you hear?"
"Oh, in God's name, man! Can't you see she's fainted?" - his blue eyes
followed the odd patterns of red on the girl's face. Red drawings on a white
handkerchief. He shivered at the thought. "Put her in the carriage. We can
take her to a good. what?"
"I'm not takin' anybody anywhere. If ya wanna 'elp 'er it's your problem.
B'sides, it'll cost ya a few more to take 'er to a 'ospital. I 'ave to
travel a lil' further and in nah way I'm getting' 'ome later for a silly
cow!"
"I see" - he nodded, feeling a rush of blush on his cheeks as he tried to
stay calm - "Of course if you want to take advantage of this awful situation
I'm powerless. But we can't just leave her in."
"Ya paid me for a ride to Belgrave Road and there I'm goin'. And if ya wanna
to take 'er with ya, well, there I'll drop ya both."
"Just put her into the carriage!" - he commanded after thinking over his
choices. He hadn't too much money but just the trip fee. And even if he had
had a spare penny, time was running wild and he had to return home as soon
as possible.
He spent the rest of the trip, fifteen long minutes, with his eyes going
from the window to the young girl spread on the other seat, reaching out one
hand now and then in order to prevent her from falling to the floor. Once
facing his own house, his determination wavered. What was he going to say to
his mother? She was awake of course. The flickering yellow lamp beckoned at
him from behind the knitted curtain.
The annoyed driver waited for a little bit, nearly digging a hole in his
back, till he finally pull the fainted figure out of the carriage and almost
threw her at his surprised arms.
"There ya are. Now me money" - five rough fingers clad in brown fingerless
gloves danced in front of the wider blue eyes. He left in a whirl of
jangling noises, bitten insults and rings of dust.
William had no chance but picked the girl up. She was so light! And very
young, apparently. A looming figure appeared at the threshold and he
hesitated for a second. A shiver ran wildly down his spine and a quick,
absurd thought flashed through his mind. I'm standing at the edge of the
abyss, I'm looking into it and it'll gobble me completely.
"Oh, good heavens! What happened, dear?" - his mother stepped out of the
gloomy threshold.
"My...the carriage ran her over, - he spluttered, - and I just couldn't leave
her."
"Of course not! Quickly, take her inside. Oh, my, the guest room is in no
proper condition and I can't fix it right now!"
"Don't worry, mother. I'll put her in my room for tonight" - he averted his
eyes, sheepishly.
"Poor thing! She could have." - she couldn't finish the phrase but only
shudder at the implications, - "I'll get some water and a cloth."
William closed his eyes for a moment and sighed deeply. One of the most
painful things he had had to do was to dismiss Mrs. Frebble. She had been in
their family for more than ten years but he couldn't afford and extra wage
at that moment, no matter her promises of charging him nothing for looking
after his mother. He should have accepted instead of leaving his mother to
take care of everything in the house but it would not be fair for the old
maid. Twice a week a girl came to do the heavy housework but that was all.
He managed to push back the purple velvet covers and place the young girl
on the linen white sheets. The gas lamp shone blindly for a second till he
lowered it down to a soft orange.
CHAPTER 2
"Tell me how to stop the damn spell!" - Giles voice was an outrageous
typhoon.
Ethan looked at him from the floor as he wondered how many years had passed
since the last time he had seen Rupert in all his Ripper's glory. "Break the
statue of Janus."
A bright circle spread from the splintered head and Giles blinked noticing
the subtle change in the air. It wasn't as heavy, as suffocative. He inhaled
deeply before turning to his foe.
The empty floor looked back at him with a black, empty face.
----------------------------------------------------------
William let the heavy velvet drapes fall and returned to his chair beside
the bed. Under the gas lamp and with her face now clean, the girl looked
even younger. Innocent. Lost. He shook the thought off. What was going on
with him tonight? Words were attacking him as frantic eagles. The house
creaked on its foundations and, in the silence, the sound crept along the
walls as grotesque toothy maggots eager to devour the whole place.
Buffy fidgeted under the blankets and opened her eyes a little. A moonbeam
played on the ceiling and bathed the waving orange walls. A man; his glasses
gleamed like diamonds under the moonlight.
"Oh, Giles. - her voice came from a long distance as if she was still
running through thousands of grubby alleys - thank God. I had this terrible
nightmare." - she paused, uneasy. The silence stretched and wrapped
everything. "Are you there?"
The hesitation and the thread of fear that slithered in her tone shook
William intensely.
"Shhhh, shhhh, love. Everything is fine. Go back to sleep now. There's
nothing to be afraid of."
His own eyes were sliding down no matter how hard he fought back. Besides,
it wasn't a proper gentleman's behaviour to be sitting in a corner of a
lady's room. In the dark, watching her sleep. Gazing her shape merely
outlined by the moon. He wondered how it would be to have a female shape
waiting for him in his bed. Every morning. Every night. Every time he
shifted on the mattress her scented, delicate, naked shape would be there.
Warm and soft arms that would welcome his embrace; her back to press himself
and be lost. Be free of every rigid convention. Someone to laugh with,
softly under the blankets. Someone who loved him. Someone to love.
It was time to retrieve to the guest room with its dusty white sheets
covering every piece of furniture. Shapeless ghosts in an abandoned lot. He
didn't even push the sheet back but laid on it, his arms folded on his
chest, as another piece of forgotten articles.
Buffy woke up with a leap, sitting straight on the bed, her fingers twisting
the soft velvet bedspread. The sunrays slipped through the half opened
drapes as an unfurled golden fan, glimmering on the ornamented orange paper
wall, caressing the mahogany closet, crashing on its mirror with thousands
of colourful flashes. A delightful mixture of smells floated in the air;
waxed floors, lilies in a blue glass vase, lavender scent spinning gently
from the sheets. There was an opened book on the bedside table. "Poems", by
Rossetti. A small leather notebook and a few coins. Little ordinary things
of every day life. Tears sprang to her eyes but were soon wiped away. It
hadn't been a nightmare after all. The globe of the gas lamp blinked its
crystal eye confirming it. She traced the scar on her temple, still painful
and swollen and so real! Getting out of the bed, she stood in front of the
large mirror. The nightdress pooled around her hidden feet as a quiet
spring. At least dizziness didn't threaten to blow her out. A quick knock at
the door made her jump.
"Oh, oh, sorry!" - the man turned round as if somebody had slapped his
blushing face - "I thought you were still sleeping. Now that you are up
maybe you want to join us downstairs? You must be thirsty."
She looked around and her eyes stopped on the torn silk pink dress. It was
lying on the back of a chair as a defeated warrior.
"You can wear that mantle over there" - he said and she frowned. Maybe he
had eyes on his back.
Suddenly she was alone again. She put the soft mauve mantle on and faced the
mirror again. The rippled laced sleeves swung as doves every time she moved
one hand. With a strap of her old dress she tied her long, bothering hair up
and went downstairs, barefoot. There were carpets everywhere and nobody
would ever noticed, as the long skirt skated behind her with a funny noise.
"Okay, a cup of tea won't hurt. As long as they don't start asking questions
I don't have the answers to." Her fingers left the stair rail reluctantly.
"Oh, dear, come, come here" - a woman dressed in a simple black poplin dress
appeared in the sunlit corridor grabbing her by one arm, leading her to the
drawing room. Buffy scrutinized the room in a rush of green eyes. The walls
were covered in white flowered paper, overcrowded with paintings. A dark
sofa, a white fireplace. A fancy red and blue carpet. Two little tables were
placed under each window, a crystal vase full of fresh roses on each one of
them. Crowded bookshelves on the other side of the room, a black piano and a
bigger table with a white knitted tablecloth. It was set in the most
extraordinary way; silver ashtrays with buns and rolls, china white cups
with blue birds and a thing gold rim. Buffy sighed trying to control her
heart speed while she sat on a red velvet chair.
"How are you feeling this morning?"
There was a gentle look on the woman's eyes; some sort of inner kindness
that made her think of her own mother. Always eager to help others, no
matter who they were. Buffy swallowed the lump in her throat as the image of
Joyce and her tender smile changed to one of Giles and his lectures. You can
do this. I mean, after a year listening to his sometimes snooty accent you
HAD to learn something.
"I'm better, thank you." - Amazing! A little sample of Rupert! In spite of
her jumpiness, she almost giggled at it. "I really want to thank you for
helping me, madam. I'm truly sorry for."
"You should thank my son. He found you and brought you home." - she looked
at the man coming into the room with a silver teapot. He placed it on the
table and smiled shyly.
"It was the least I could do." - he finally said and she was surprised by
his rich, deep tone. He seemed so fragile with those ridiculous glasses.
Yet, she couldn't help a smile. Ridiculous, yes, but so cute! Some sort of
teddy bear, another Mr. Gordo to hug. Buffy coughed just to erase the stupid
idea and nearly sank her nose into the smoking cup.
"Hope you like Earl Grey, dear" - the lovely lady offered her a creamy roll,
- "I'm afraid we have run out of any other."
"So, I'm sure this will sound rather rude but.what happened to you? The
carriage almost killed you."
"William, dear! Let her have her tea in peace! There's enough time to know."
"No, no, - Buffy put the cup on its saucer with a harsh sound, - I don't
remember much. To be honest, I don't remember anything. We were attacked I
guess and somebody hit me but." What can I say!!! Not the truth that's for
sure! I'll love to see their faces: oh, yes, but Halloween night was a
gigantic fiasco and that fucking dress served no purpose but to send me
straight to hell. They'll probably phone the next shrink if they exist here.
"I'm afraid I don't even remember who I am." And that WAS true for the most
horrifying two hours of my life. Anyway, it'll do. If I can't say anything,
they'll stop asking questions and I'll be safe for a while. Maybe I should
cry a little.
"Don't worry, dear. You'll remember everything. Those head wounds are pretty
dangerous but yours wasn't that serious. Give it time. Another roll? So,
William, are you going to Drury Lane tonight? Margaret told me they are
showing this marvellous piece."
"Tonight is the meeting, mother."
Buffy couldn't but stare at him. He had sounded as if he was going to launch
a secret rocket to Jupiter. That meeting had to be a hell of a gathering.
"Oh, yes, the meeting" - she smiled at his son in the most encouraging and
beloved way, - "That's a pity, though. You could have taken our guest here.
See if she can meet somebody who she's acquainted to. Oh, don't look so
appalled, darling! Everybody goes to the theatre and it would be the best
place ever to find somebody who knows you."
But I'm not planning on spending another night in this stinking city no
matter how kind you are. I have to find the way back home and...
"...to the meeting with you?"
His shocked gaze stopped Buffy's thoughts.
I should rescue him. I mean, he saved me and maybe it's not about a trip to
Jupiter but about a woman. But, if I say no, she will probably think I want
to stay in her house forever. What can I do? God, some help here.
"She hasn't an appropriate outfit for the occasion" - his cheeks went even
redder if that was possible, - "I'm terribly sorry but it's the truth."
"Of course it is!" - she agreed too loudly - "I really appreciate your
concern, madam, but you have done enough providing me some place to rest. I
think I should go to the police station. Perhaps they could help me to find.
to find my family." Oh, stupid me! Worst line ever! I won't even know what
to say if they take me to the police. How is it that I can't find anything
cleverer to say? Damn it!
"Well, a police station is not a suitable place for a lady, that is all I
will say. As for the outfit, I can lend her one of mine. It will not be too
fancy, of course, - she giggled in a charming way and the image of Joyce
resurfaced in Buffy's mind, - but it won't be so out of date as well."
"I have to go for the newspaper, mother" - William stood up abruptly, nearly
knocking the chair down, - "Miss."
Buffy saw him running away and a threat of guilt sang in her veins. "I'm so
sorry. I didn't mean to upset him. I'm so."
"Oh, don't worry dear! It'd take more than this to get William angry" - she
poured the tea in Buffy's cup for the third time, - "As a matter of fact, I
doubt anything would get him lose his temper."
CHAPTER 3
"I told you to wait! I told you I have something important to tell you!" -
Willow paced across Giles' living room twisting her fingers as if they were
made of rubber. "He escaped and now. are you sure he escaped? Maybe he was
hidden under a box, or dressed up as, don't know, E.T. Okay, okay, just
asking."
She fell on the sofa covering her exposed legs with the white sheet. She
wished she could covered herself entirely but there was no time to get all
blushy and embarrassed when Buffy was lost and no one would probably be
paying any attention to her too far exposed body anyway.
"What are we going to do?" - Angel demanded looking at Giles from a corner.
"We don't know where she is. Or how she is. There are tons of hellish
dimensions out there, you know?"
Giles rubbed his eyes, sighing deeply in order to remain calm. "Obviously,
it was a work of magic. And, you know it, - he stared at the vampire just to
stop him from talking, - a spell requires another spell. So, if we manage to
open a door."
"How? Where? Show me a wizard here. A witch; somebody!" Angel yelled
throwing his arms in the air as though he had seen some wizard flying near
the ceiling for him to catch.
Willow coughed softly. "Well. as a matter of fact."
----------------------------------------------------------
She felt like a balloon. She was sure not even the mad hatter himself had
ever had so much tea in one single breakfast.
The polite lady had excused herself and Buffy was left alone in the gleaming
room. The rhythmical tick-tock of the clock was the only thing that stayed
with her. William had come back with The Times rolled under one armpit as if
he was carrying a paper weapon and had dismissed her apologies with a quick
nod. The clock struck eleven sharp bells.
"You should go to rest now. Or perhaps you want to stay here and read
something?" - he had said, his eyes fixed above a point over her right
shoulder, maybe the fawn double curtains or the opened wooden shutters. "I
have certain things to do and my mother spends the afternoon resting. She is
very ill" - he had added in a sorrowful whisper. She had wanted to hug him.
Again.
So now she was standing by the window in HIS room, looking at the row of
houses in the opposite block, at the suited men with ivory-handled dark
sticks and prominent bellies, at the women dressed in long outfits with
strange little hats that looked like Christmas ornaments, at one kid pushing
a hook. They were moving figures in a painting. Moving silhouettes in an old
sepia movie.
Buffy unfastened the row of hook and eyes of the mantle and sat cross-legged
on the bed, the nightdress rolled up to her tights. Weird. They had
undressed her and they'd never noticed the lack of underwear. At least not
the current fashion underwear. They had undressed me.
A sudden flash of heat climbed to her cheeks. His hands were big; his
fingers were long and delicate as if he had spent all his life only playing
that piano. An artist. Buffy's fingers traced one of her thighs briefly.
Goosebumps on her skin. Forbidden images behind her shut eyelids. She knew
his mother had been the one in charge of the undressing thing. Yet, there
was something in her heart that jumped crazily at the possibility. "He's a
gentleman! I wish. I wish he weren't." She shook her head astounded by the
strange longing.
"I wonder why they hadn't said anything." But they hadn't said anything
about any of the odd things she represented. Her lack of memory, her sudden
appearance from nowhere, in a middle of a street. A presumed lady. Dressed
up in a smart silk dress and borrowed accent. Alone and helpless. "I don't
want to hurt them, really, but I need to go. I have to plan something. See
if I can get a way out. Everybody must be so worried about me. Probably they
think Spike had killed me and dumped me among the trash. Angel. How stupid
of me!"
The cardboards shook uneasy before revelling a pale angry face. "Bloody
Slayer! Wait till I put my hands on you! I'll.Oh, my, there's a tap dancer
in my head. Shit! Soddin' box! Get out of. Ouch! Can't believe it! The sun
is out there! I spent the whole night."
A sudden sickened wave made his entire body shivered and he lay down again.
"Wait till the sun is gone. Dru must be worried. What was that bloke made
of? Iron?"
Buffy woke in time to see the door opening. She bounced on the mattress
grabbing the mauve mantle, covering her body with it. There was a fire
squeaking on the iron fireplace and the whole room was wrapped in a golden
warm light. Buffy frowned at the pile of silk hanging from the lady's arm.
Not other of those gowns, please. Next portal will probably send my ass to
Venus.
But no matter how she plead, refused or argued, after fifteen minutes in
which she had to clean herself with a cloth and the rose-water that the lady
had poured in a lovely porcelain basin, she was made to face one of the
wooden posters of the bed. The woman had found some sort of torturing device
to make her shut up for good. The corset was strangling her midriff better
than a demon grip.
"They are not that old - she apologized and Buffy couldn't but smile at her
among hot tears and deep gasps - the dresses I mean. Only a couple of
years."
"They are gorgeous, really, - her green eyes waved along streams of
colourful silk - but I don't want your son to be upset or angry and."
"He has accepted it's a good idea. Besides, my dear, wait till he sees you
in one of these! He'll be so proud of having such a beauty as you as his
partner. So, which one do you prefer?"
"Ok. So we open a new portal and hopefully it will be opened at the same
dimension in which she is. But. will SHE be there?" Giles sipped from his
glass of whisky, ignoring the first pulsating signs of a next massive
headache.
"Meaning?" Willow's eyes raised from the book in which she had sunk herself
for the last three hours.
"Meaning that she might have moved. Don't know, run from some monsters,
demons, or whatever might attack her."
"Run away? She never runs away." Willow frowned confused.
Xander sucked the last threads of raspberry jelly from his thumb before
jumping into the talk, in spite of Giles's previous warning. "Well, maybe
there were too many. Besides, she doesn't remember anything.so there's the
possibility of the running away thing."
"Oh, oh, an idea! - Willow leapt from the green sofa as if it had pinched
her butt- "Big idea forming here! The door can find her. What? Some kind of
moving door. It can be done."
"A moving door." - Giles sighed begging for the pulsating bud in his temples
to recede-
"And where exactly will it open here? Are we going to scan the city the
entire night just to find the bloody door? Please."
"No, no. Moving door there, alley door here."
Giles briefly scowled at Xander before whispering. "Let's start then."
Fascinated, she swayed in front of the mirror for the fourth time. Well,
THAT was a DRESS! The green and the blue silk shone like jewels under the
lamp. It had a slim line style that made her look as thin and long as a rose
stem. The gown neckline was generous enough to show the beginning of her
full breasts pushed up by the corset. And the flounced rippled train, .as
those of wedding gowns she admired in her mother's magazines, sure that she
would never be able to wear one in her more than sure short existence. The
layers of embroidered petticoats murmured under the skirt as she moved. The
proud display of a peacock.
Buffy ran two fingers on the exquisite necklace the lady had fastened around
her neck. She was so shocked by its beauty that had rejected the offer
immediately. William's mother dismissed all her words with a smile and a
wave of her delicate hand. "It's not that you aren't going to bring it back,
is it dear?" "No, I won't - she had wanted to scream- I'm only going with
him far enough to find some sort of thing from where I can jump back home."
Of course she had remained mute and now all she could do was getting nearer
to the mirror just to admire that little work of art. A necklace with a
pendant made of gold. Twenty-five -she counted them- rose cut diamonds, and
twelve seed pearls surrounding an emerald, matching the extraordinary pair
of earrings hanging from her earlobes. She felt like a princess. A real one.
A princess in a fairy-tale that would end in a not so happy way. No prince
there for her to be awoken by a kiss. No pumpkins turning into dashing
carriages. Neither a wedding nor a castle. Only a portal and back to
violence. Back to normal, if she could use that word in the same sentence
that had her name in it.
William's eyes washed all her gloomy thoughts away. Buffy stopped at the
bottom of the stairs. She was now a Queen. His eyes had crowned her and for
the first time in her life a furious blush covered her cheeks.
Silence wrapped them as soon as they got in the carriage. William was
astounded. He couldn't take his eyes of the ravishing female sitting in
front of him, although he was pretty aware that he wasn't exactly behaving
as a gentleman. But the round moulds of her breasts were luring him on. Up
and down, up and down as a charming tide. Her beautiful eyes sparkled along
with the emeralds. Her neck. he had a sudden flash of his lips tasting it.
He averted his dark heavy eyes to the window as a way to ignore the
uncomfortable hardness between his legs. Never in his life had he felt such
powerful emotions nor had he considered a lady in such low manner. His gaze
may be away but his brains remained stuck on her wet and smiling lips. On
her hands crossed on her lap. His fingers ached to just reach out and touch
them.
If I weren't in love with Cecily I'd probably fall for this fairy, this
Queen Mab who is making me dream of forbidden things. Cecily. I hope she
won't be jealous.
William offered his arm for her to cling of it. All faces turned round
stunned at his sight. William? Who is she? How he possibly.? Puzzled gazes
shut up sniggers. For a while, at least.
The music was calling him, pulling him. William was looking at her from a
corner, stupidly jealous of the circle of men around her. He shouldn't have
been. Cecily would appear at any time. So why? Why did he want to surround
her waist with his arms, to get lost in the embrace of the music, to smell
her perfume, to press her body against his? Buffy glanced at him over her
crystal glass feeling an odd wriggling movement in her stomach. She'd like
to kick all those stuck-up asses that were surrounding her. She'd like to
shout, too tired of rejecting each and every invitation to join the couples
that were dancing in the room. Not that she didn't want to but.waltz? She
doubted she could make a whole round without ripping someone's foot off.
Besides, the mere thought of one of those arms on her waist.
His arm on her waist. He had asked and she hadn't refused. Never paid
attention to the frowns and the irritated murmurs but to the blue soft gaze
fixed on her. His eyes, behind the ridiculous glasses were kind and soft and
sad. His craggy cheekbones on which the gas lights stopped for an eternity
just to enjoy their beauty. His hand was a hot point on her back and God,
she felt as never before. Why was that? Would everybody flee in horror if
she leant her head on his shoulder? Probably. She didn't give a damn. He'd
have and that prevented her from doing it. Her hand pressed his arm instead,
her fingers held to his more intensely. His lips drew a little smile. Full
lips. Her green eyes were fixed on that particular spot. Would he taste as
morning tea? As sweet as cream? Or as a sour candy, of the kind you enjoy
and suffer at the same time? His forearms were strangely strong. As though
they could hold her for all the eternity. Buffy inhaled deeply. Her chest
was about to explode.
Hands, rude and offensive, pulled him away and others arms were now on her
waist, other fingers, cold and rough. Dark eyes she wanted to tear off and
above everything, the woman sashaying downstairs, William's face glowing in
ecstasy, as she had never existed.
So I was right. He's in love with that.that. and look at her, strutting
about as if she were the owner of Heaven and he is nothing but a stupid
jerk.
All of a sudden there was a heavy feeling hanging from the air. A strong
sense of loss and tragedy. The twist in her guts was unbelievable. All that
night was unbelievable. What was she doing there anyway? Why was she feeling
an empty hole in her belly? She couldn't feel threatened by another woman as
he meant something to her. Besides, why on earth was she attracted to
someone else who wasn't Angel? Big mystery. Not the first one. "Makes me
feel all manly". Her mouth and her panties had wetted at the sight. Evil,
yes, but undeniable sexy. And why was she thinking of him now? Too many
questions and I don't have a clue to any of them. Yes, oh please. I'm really
thirsty. No, I'm sorry. I want to rest for a while and this Scarlet O'Hara
act is getting a little boring. Not to mention annoying.
Three glasses of champagne and yet she was sober. Well, quite. And he wasn't
in sight. Why am I all dressed up here if I can't flaunt myself around
appropriately? Listen to me, this Giles's way of speaking is getting sticky.
I should tell him I want to go back to the house. That I feel bad or
something and spoil his night for good. Idiot!
Buffy finally spied William's shape. A few of those pent-up aristocrats
good-for-nothing fellows were laughing at something and that I'm Miss Prissy
in long gown woman was joining them with a lopsided smile. William stepped
back and became almost invisible.
"And that's actually one of his better compositions" Buffy's fast approach
was refrained by the alcohol in her veins.
"Have you heard? They call him William the Bloody because of his bloody
awful poetry!"
Buffy blinked and shook her head. The disgusting woman wasn't around.
"It suits him. I'd rather have a railroad spike through my head than listen
to that awful stuff." Buffy frowned. They were criticizing William?
Bastards.
Bubbles buzzed in her tongue and her temper. "Oh, because listening to you
nagging and pestering about somebody's else skills is a hell of fun, ah? If
you ask me I'd shove a bloody spear up your brains myself."
Five shocked pair of eyes followed her not too steady pace. The curtains
would serve for support. Wait, curtains. I'm coming.
"I know I'm a bad poet but I'm a good man and all I ask is that.that you try
to see me"
I was seeing you, stupid man and you left me for this. this.
"I do see you. That's the problem. You're nothing to me, William. You're
beneath me."
This bitch! This cruel, mean, fucking bitch! Buffy's jaws fell to the floor
along with her sick stomach. Tears plundered the air in her throat and she
couldn't but take a few steps into the parlour. William's face was greyish.
William's face was a river of tears. William's face was a mask of pain and
sadness. William.
The bitch almost knocked her down when she left the choking room. Buffy
strengthened the grip on the curtains as her head made a quick swirling
move.
William was gone. Again. The door in the opposite wall swung as a waving
hand.
Buffy ran outside and caught a glimpse of his back as he shambled down the
street. The fresh air cleared her mind as she ran after him. Fresh air,
fresh thoughts. Clear mind and. She stopped on her tracks as hit by a train.
Wasn't that Angel? Her eyes travelled over his dark figure avidly. How
different and.ugly he looked! Long hair definitively didn't suit him. His
eyes seemed to be sink deeply in his face and yet, under the street lamp,
they shone with a dark threat. Killing eyes. Murdering eyes. Eyes of a
shark. And those women. The blonde one; she knew her. A faded memory but
still there. She knew the other one as well. She was in the park with Angel.
"Oh, God, think." Buffy closed her eyes to summon the memories. They came
altogether as a waterfall of dark images. The photograph, Giles speaking,
Angel standing in the library, that stupid costume. William the Bloody. have
a railroad spike. William. William! Her heart was a wolf howling under the
cypresses. The blonde and Angelus, not Angel, not Angel. were leaving and
the dark one. She wasn't anywhere. A dreadful, definitive, appalling
sensation clasped her throat as she ran towards the narrow street ahead; her
ankles twisting on the cobbled stone pavement. She was floundering;
floundering in thick, silky petticoats. She had considered them beautiful.
Had torn them to the ground in one minute if she'd have stopped her crazy
race. Faster. Faster. A screech. No, it can't be late! It can't! He helped
me! He saved me!
The dark head was fixed to his neck as a gigantic leech. Like one deformed
Siamese head from hell. Buffy took out one of her high heel shoes and
hammered Dru's head with all her ordinary strength. A shrill escape from her
grotty mouth as she stepped backwards with squinted yellow eyes.
William's mouth was full of blood. William's neck was horribly chomped.
William's body was falling, falling and despite all her training Buffy
jumped forward to catch him before he crashed on the hard stones.
Disregarding her own safety, she held him, hugged him, cradled him in a
futile embrace. She dared to gaze over her shoulder but the grotesque demon
was gone. Buffy swallowed the murdering wishes that were jumping in her guts
like untamed marionettes with severed strings.
His hand grabbed her forearm and her head whirled around.
"Don't go. Don't leave me now."
Buffy held him tightly, her eyes tightly shut, her once beautiful outfit
wreathed in splodges of blood, of tears, of fear. Voices were coming nearer.
Sounds she couldn't understand. They faded away as whizzing midges flying
away in a murky sunset. Then a whistle pierced the night.
She was beyond everything. She was made of sobs and unintelligible whispers,
staring into his fading eyes till they were nothing but a bottomless pit.
Nothing to be seen there but a quiet blue pond with dead golden fish lying
still within them. A trick of the street lamp that was guarding her back in
a stoic, silent way. She hugged him even more strongly against her heaving
chest; her fingers traced the golden strands of hair, her fingertips stained
with laughing dots of deep red.
"You! Stay there! Stand up now, madam. Slowly."
Buffy pulled her eyes away from his dead ones and raised her head. Perfect.
A police officer. The most accusatory look in his flinty grey eyes. Buffy
doubted for a second but complied.
The officer bent over the body and placed two fingers on the pulse spot.
Finally he shouted with his gaze fixed on her bedraggled dress. "Call the
undertaker!"
Buffy stood still, ignoring the officer questions. She was too shocked to
make something up. She only waited. Wheels hitting the pavement. Horses.
Three men shouting. Two horrible men with dirty suits raised the corpse from
the floor. Her knees acted by pure instinct, collapsing against the
surprised officer. With the skirts rolled up to her thighs she fled away.
Not too far away, though. She knew she had to stay. Stay and perform her
duty. As terrible and cruel as it sounded it was still her duty. Hidden
behind a narrow crack of a crumbling doorstep, watching the sinister wooden
cart where William was thrown as a useless bag of dirt. The sound crossed
the street, heavy and definitive as a lid closing forever. She flinched,
floating in a borrowed cloud.
The officer skimmed the street and shaking his head got on the cart with the
others. Buffy followed them from a safe distance, sometimes taking the
nearer street from which she could listen to the clattering wheels. Finally
they came to a halt. A door squeaked. A few thumps and a hammer smacking
nails.
"Wot? It's night na. 'Sides 'e's no' goin' anywhere! Don't ya worry mate!
Got three more to the bloody lil' trip to Rookwood, 'morra firs' thin'!
Buffy crashed her back against the wall. She looked down and for the first
time in that awful night she realized she still had his broken glasses
clutched in her hand. As a tiny piece of him. To treasure for all the years
to come.
"Come on Willow. How much longer?" Angel paced back and forth along Giles'
living room.
"Wouldn't you be there? In that alley instead of here asking the same thing
one second after another?"
"I just want to know it'll work."
"Well, better way to know is going to that alley and let me do my job."
Without you freaking me out more than I am.
His mother's image was everything Buffy had in front of her eyes as she
walked towards the house again. She had time. They hadn't needed that
carriage to take them to the meeting in first place. Only ten blocks from
his house. "No lady is supposed to walk in the night. Not even with a
gentleman by her side." Watch me now. I'm walking alone and I'm not crying
anymore. Instead I've got this cold fist inside my chest. I'm numb.
Facing the light behind the curtains she tried to find the words to explain
something that was impossible to be explained. How could she? She was
covered in his blood. Her dress was a mess and her gaze was a scatty one.
The lady would probably change her mind about police stations. No, she
couldn't do this. Perhaps the officer. perhaps she'd know by other means.
"She is very ill." Oh, William! I'm so sorry!
She turned round feeling as a stitched doll loosing its padding, loosing its
shape. Empty. The necklace was as heavy as an anvil. Back to the dead people
store. Back to where he was waiting for her staking hand. The door was
opened and the splintered wooden lid of the coffin scratched her dirty face.
A bright light appeared behind her right on the threshold. The portal. Blue
and blinking. Stretching its welcoming arms. But she couldn't. She had a
task. that could easily be performed back at home. Buffy allowed the
dazzling light to enfold her.
CHAPTER 4
Spike sprang from the boxes as a rampant puppet. Strange dream. He hadn't
dreamt of. he didn't even know her name. Never had asked. Why? He had looked
for her after that night. Had come back to his house expecting to find her
there. Nothing. His mother had never seen her again. Perhaps she hadn't had
his luck. She looked like the Slayer. Funny thing, now that he thought of
it.
As he patted his duster for his fags, a searing light exploded in the alley.
So the Slayer was back! Well, at least lying among the rubbish had brought
something to his hungry teeth! A flash of silk. Not pink anymore. Blue and
green and a wig falling from her head as an abnormal fainting puppy. A
vision from the past. A vision that made him blinked furiously and twisted
his guts, leaving him speechless for a crushing moment.
Buffy, blind for a second, stumbled and crashed against a statue of a
vampire.
"It was you.You.knew. You knew all the time and did nothing. You deserve to
be killed!" Spike jumped towards Buffy's neck.
His fangs were so near. and her strength was back, thank God. She shoved him
aside and ran away, avoiding the tall figure of Angel that had appeared in
the alley. Straight to her home, to her shower, to her bed, to her mother's
arms. Hug me, hug me, hug me. Let me cry; let me shout till my ears blow up.
Till my chest opens as a nutshell and I pour out all this horror, all this
pain.
After a long full-of-sobs shower, Buffy finally recovered a little bit of
self-control. She could listen to the gang chatting downstairs, waiting for
the big tale. She wasn't in the mood, though. She closed her room door and
picked up the long dress from her bed. Probably best thing to do was to
throw it away in the furthest trash bin. A knock on the window and Angel's
worried face at its frame. Buffy drew a fake smile and failed.
"Tada!" -she tried to sound amused. Actually, she just wanted him to leave-
"Just little old twentieth century me."
"Sure you're okay?" He could smell something wrong beneath that casual
attitude. Something yawning and dark. Something she wasn't going to share
with him.
"I'll live."
Angel looked at her askance but nodded. "I don't get it, Buffy. Why did you
think I'd like you better dressed that way?"
I don't want to talk about that now. I don't want to talk to you. "I just
wanted to be a real girl for once." And boy, wasn't I? "The kind of fancy
girl you liked when you were my age." She just added it 'cause she needed to
go on with a charade. Answer him something. Anything that would distract him
enough to put aside that suspicious look in his eyes. His eyes. I don't know
if I'll be able to look at him directly in his eyes ever again.
"Oh, ho."
"What?" Too harsh.
"I hated the girls back then. Especially the noble women."
Two women. One blonde, one dark. Elegant and.noble. At least in their
aspect.
"You did." When on hell had she learnt to be sarcastic?
He sat on the bed and took Mr. Gordo in his big hands. Buffy pressed her
stained dress against his chest. Her eyes went to the little box in which
she'd hidden the necklace and the stupid glasses.
"They were just incredible dull. Simpering morons, the lot of them. I always
wished I'd meet someone.exciting. Interesting."
Her lips curled into a scathing grimace. "Really? Interesting how?"
"You know how."
Buffy sighed, pulling Mr. Gordo off his hands. "Still, I had a really hard
day. You should probably tell me." Yes, tell me what were they? Whores?
Street girls you just met that day?
"You're right. I should." He said from the windowsill.
"Definitely." Buffy closed the shutters in his face.
Questions. Questions everywhere. How was it that the dress suddenly changed
its colour? How was it that she changed the dress? How was it that there
were so elegant dresses in hell dimensions? How come she didn't talk? She
didn't say anything. She was as mute as a sculpture and weren't they friends
anymore? Wasn't her duty, her sacred duty to inform about everything, fill
in a form perhaps, just for her Watcher to be aware of future threats?
Only her mother said nothing, cuddling her every night in front of the T.V.
Maybe, in her infinite wisdom she knew and remain silent just waiting for
her daughter to be the first one to bring matters to light. Maybe Buffy had
a new image of Joyce, that of a saint who could erase the pain only by
placing her warm arms around her. Maybe she was screwed up for good. If not,
why in hell she still persisted in that twisted relationship with somebody
that wasn't exactly ideal anymore? Angel's image had flaked and turned into
a shadow of what had been. Yet, she played her part 'cause, otherwise, there
was only THE TRUTH. Capital letters in a neon sign. And the truth would lead
to one single BIG question. The worst of all. "Why on earth don't you just
kill him? He's dangerous, he's a killer and if you don't stop him we'll all
turn up dead." But I did kill him. I did. And it hurt so much that I don't
know where I'm standing anymore.
Spike paced about the place as a lion in a constricted cage.
"Of course I have to kill her! Do you think I'm bloody stupid? Why do you
think I've sent those buggering killers after her?" And don't fucking dare
to ask me why I didn't go myself! "She's the gnat in my ear! The gristle in
my teeth! She's the bloody thorn in my bloody side! And in my guts. In my
memories. In my frigging noggin. "Oh, bollocks! What now? What? At Willie's?
Oh, great!"
What on earth was that girl doing in her city? She wasn't dead anymore! She
hadn't been dead even a whole minute! So well educated. Yes, sir. No sir.
Looking down bashfully. Knowing all the books as if she were a walking
library and messing with HER life. HER Watcher. Nasty sight of Giles
drooling as a puppy in front of a bone. HER friends drooling as well. Buffy
was shocked. First for having to share the Slayer-ing thing with someone
else. Second for not being THE CHOSEN one anymore. Unique and only. Third
for having that girl snooping around. Now. Now when she was walking on her
tiptoes every single day. Now that she was floating in a sea of questions.
Now when it was impossible that other Slayer wouldn't carry out her duty.
"I'm here to kill vampires." She had flinched at that simple statement.
Buffy was absolutely sure that Kendra girl would succeed. Their duty. "Kill
the evil. Kill what you couldn't kill."
Her duty. Buffy repeated all the way to the church but other things whirled
in her mind. He had sent killers after her! He had kidnapped Angel. And I
wonder why that doesn't drive me even madder than that Taraka thing. Ok, I'm
worried here. How wouldn't I?
The first time in.two weeks. Face to face. He was so different! There was
nothing of William left in that.thing that was yelling and pestering at
Willie. Buffy's eyes went to the pair strapped together to a chain that hung
from the ceiling of the altar. She couldn't but whisper. "Angel." There was
no deep concern in that murmur and that frightened her even more.
"Yeah," Spike head tilted and his smile widened, "Don't feel too bad for
him, though, he's got something you don't have."
Buffy inhaled sharply and nearly staked him with her gaze. "What's that?"
"Five minutes." He bent forward just to whisper in her ear. A cold breeze.
"Guess if I kill him we're even, love. I think you remember that lovely lady
that gave you a place to rest, clothes and jewellery? I had to kill her."
Buffy's eyes were as wide as craters. A hurting glance. Aching green depths.
Spike looked away just to prevent that painful shot to aim his heart. He
took three steps back. "Hey, makes me think I want that necklace back. Must
cost a fortune nowadays! Tell you what. Once I finish with you and your
boyfriend here I'll get it myself. Maybe your mum knows where you hid it."
Tears pushed the doors of her heart but she wasn't going to let them flow.
Not the best time for that. Angel needed her and.she found out she didn't
care that much. The door of the church abruptly burst opened and the aid
appeared. Great timing.
"Who the hell is this?" Spike shouted while Kendra grabbed his shirt.
"It's your lucky day, Spike. Two slayers."
"Oh, great! What? Can't you beat me all by yourself, love? Wonder why."
For a flashing second her stubborn and stupid heart went to Kendra and that
annoying vampire she was punching. And suddenly everything changed. Sadness
became rage and Kendra's fists weren't enough. SHE had to punch him. SHE had
the right to erase that smile from his face. To hell with him. He wasn't
William. He'd killed him; he'd immolated William and that lovely lady in the
shrine of darkness. They deserved to be avenged and she was going to send
that sorry vampire ass to hell just to allow those she had known to rest in
peace.
"Switch!" Buffy shouted at Kendra, bending over just for the other Slayer to
roll over her back.
"I'd rather be fighting you anyway." Spike stated with an anticipatory
delight.
"Mutual." Her jaws were so clenched that she could hardly listen to the
word.
There she was finally downloading all her frustrations and pains and
sufferings and useless tears on his body, kicking his guts, his face,
sloshing his chin, whacking his nose and nothing seemed to be sufficient.
He deserved to be punished. Not even for Angel. In her current state of mind
she never spare one thought for him. Other people walked within her eyes.
For them. For not being able to hate him deep from my guts despite
everything. For still wanting to hug him.
Everything was a rush. Them fighting, Spike grabbing Willie's neck, her
trying to set Angel free. Spike running away and her allowing that to
happen. But she couldn't, could she? Her duty. Buffy grabbed the censer from
the altar and launched it at Spike's back. It hit him with such force that
he staggered into the church organ and it collapsed onto him.
The fire was spreading quickly. She couldn't move. Her friends were helping
Angel. She wanted to scream. The flames danced as orange elves in a distant
white fireplace. She wanted to shout. All she could do was stare, stare at
the growing flames as two pair of hands dragged her out of the church.
William.
The night hell was unleashed. Every night she was awoken by dreams. Nasty
dreams, awful dreams. Dreams in which she was again in that London alley,
watching the long dark hair as the demon murdered William in front of her
eyes. But the face that turned round to growl at her was never that of
Drusilla but Angel's. Long, dirty hair and yellow laughing eyes. Then the
dreams changed and Angel was the one being killed. Buffy was sure her heart
wouldn't be able to bear one more nightmare. Another of those heavy guilty
feelings that nibbled her blood, savouring with glee. She felt such a void
in her stomach as if she hadn't eaten for ages. Her life was a mess.
Confusion everywhere. Swirling, swirling, in a never-ending roller coaster.
Just for the fun of it. Not hers, of course. She desperately needed somebody
who could hug her, somebody who could make her feel alive. Give her a
purpose. How lovely you look. What a nice outfit. You're so gorgeous. I'm
holding you. There's nothing to be afraid of. Nothing wrong will ever
happen. You can kill and slay but in my arms you can find yourself again. Be
protected, be an ordinary girl with no stained hands. No dust on your
clothes. Just you and me. Love. Like the rest of the world. Leave it
outside. You're perfect. You are a Queen.
She went to Angel. That night she would never forget. That, her very first
night with a man. A man that wasn't there whenever she closed her eyes.
Other eyes, other hands touching her, taking off her not matching panties.
Too modern for a long silk dress. The piano hands. Those eyes concealed by
shiny glasses. Spied over the rim of a glass. A hand running up and down a
flat muscled stomach.
When she woke up the following morning she'd have sworn she'd dreamt the
whole thing. She hadn't. The sheets were stained with blood. Her blood this
time. It felt as if it had sipped from her heart. And he wasn't around to
make her world a little perfect. Not there for you. Not alive. Not
protected. Left behind as a useless piece of furniture. Another lamp,
another pillow. A black hole was sucking the last yarn of self-induce hope.
A castle crumbling in the air. Buffy put on her clothes slowly, reaping only
sadness from this that could be nothing but a big mistake. Another one.
Another man. Another world.
"Buffy, can you just stop for a minute!" Willow ran after her along the
school corridor. "I know that you're hurt. Deeply. And, before you say it
again, I know that's private. And it's not that I'm being all snoopy here or
going to go all 'come on, tell me', but I want you to know that I'm here"
She finally took a long breathe after such long speech.
"I know. And I'd tell you Willow but I.I don't think that.I shouldn't have
done it. It was wrong from the very beginning. I'd never done it with him."
"This is not your fault. How could you possibly know he would become Mr.
Fang and Blood again?"
"I don't mind about that. Knowing. I shouldn't have.not with him."
Willow frowned completely confused. It wasn't that she couldn't put two and
two together. She knew private meant sex. But the not with him part.What
that supposed to mean? Not with him but with somebody else? No, probably
getting all wrong here. Must be the shock. Buffy's and hers as well. Too
many things not said there. Something else that definitely had to do with
that trip to other-land she had never spoken about. Too many questions and
not the right moment to ask them.
Giles respected her. Willow respected her. Her mother respected her. Why
couldn't she respect herself? Gazing at the T.V. fighting furiously the
tears that nipped her eyes. A candle burning out on a cupcake. Happy
birthday Buffy! Make a wish! Here's your present! Bet you never expected
such a huge surprise, ah? My best present was at the point of a stake. How
comes that I couldn't use it? For lost memories. For what he meant to me.
But that was when I.when I.loved him. Loved? Since when she used past tense
with Angel? Since a month or so. It had grown day after day in a secretive
way. As invisible bugs in a swamp. She should have killed him. She could
have. Not that difficult. Not after killing William twice. Not too
different. Not that painful. Her duty. She just needed to put aside sweet
first kisses and first ever-dreamt romance. Willpower. That was what she
needed. Her eyes left the T.V. and went down to the candle. Inhaling deeply
she murmured softly. The flame went out with a satisfied hiss.
tbc...
CHAPTER 5
Make me strong but not at this price. Make me inflexible; make me of stone,
but never at this cost. I should have asked that. Buffy looked down to the
grave where Ms. Calendar would rest for all the years to come. The wind blew
and swirled among the trees. Was it true that you could actually know what
it said but simply paying attention to it? Buffy closed her eyes but all she
could hear was Xander yelling in the library and Willow asking if she wanted
to try that old curse. How could she tell them she didn't want him back? How
could she tell her friends that all she wanted was for them to be saved, to
be always happy or at least as happy as they could be? She wanted them to
have the kind of normal life she'd never had. To have a loving couple to hug
them and kiss them and make love to them without going mad. Without turning
into a copycat of Ted Bundy with fangs. Most of all, she wanted this
nightmare to end. No more deaths or grieving on somebody's grave. At least
not on the graves of those she cared.
Buffy let herself drop on the library chair. She should be grateful for the
help. She was in spite of that tickle in her guts. Kendra meant help. And
memories not too well buried. All she needed to make up her mind was the
demon issue. A world-sucker demon. Maybe they'd find a demon-sucker demon to
summon in one of Giles's book. If any of that existed. Or she could always
accept Willow's offer.
"Willow, I think you should try the curse." She tried to smile, but frowned
instead.
"I tend to side with your friend Xander on this one. Angel should be
eliminated." Kendra. always so practical. Straight to the point.
"Oh, I'll fight him. I'll kill him if I have to. But if I don't get there in
time, or if I lose, then Willow might be our only hope."
She couldn't believe how relieved she felt after saying it aloud. Not matter
if they didn't believe her. Didn't matter now that she had finally let half
of the truth come to light. While looking at the orb Giles handled to her
friend, Buffy made a mental promise. Once this is over I'll tell her
everything. All of it. No more secrets. After all, we are friends.
She felt this déjà vu. Looking into dead eyes and a police officer yelling
at her. She almost waited for a whistle and a cart to appear in a flash of
blue light. The numbness wasn't there, though. Big run away was. After
checking in the hospital for her friends the numbness came back with a blow.
Straight to her heart. She couldn't lose Giles too. Not more pain. Where's
my granted wish? Why had I to do all these? If I had been faithful to my
heart. If I hadn't let him touch me. If he kills him. Another grave. And
mine 'cause I won't be able to bear it. No more. I'm two thousands years
old. So tired. So.
Damned idiot that I can't avoid a police car!!!
A police officer that was suddenly beaten unconscious and thrown on the
bonnet of the car while her eyes grew wider as moon hollows.
"Hello cutie." Spike smirked tilting his head. Amused. He managed to look
amused. Freaking unbelievable.
"What?! How?! You!" Her heartbeat was a hurricane. As well as her fist.
Straight to his nose, to his face, to all the pain he'd caused her. The most
amazing thing was that beyond everything that was going on her lips
threatened to draw a stupid, out of place smile.
"What? You thought I was all cripple and weeping? Sorry, love. Alive.well,
sort of, and kicking here."
"Never wanted." She shut up just in time. The words were dancing in her mind
and almost jumped out against her will.
Spike raised one eyebrow. So easy to hear those unspoken words... "Oh, no?
So I think you're the best actor ever."
"What do you want? 'Cause frankly, I don't have much time for this."
"Well, I want to stop Angel. I want to save the world." His smile went ever
wider. She inhaled sharply. There's something of William in that smile that
shook her to the core. Some childish thing. Something touching and.Please
don't start now. Why don't you get your ass out of the streets? Just in
case. Far away from the police if I want to get Giles back.
Buffy hang up the phone after talking to Willow. At least one of them was
better. She opened the tap to fill a glass and kept on gazing at the running
water. One look and he willingly helped her. With her mother. As if he'd be
able to read the plea in them. As if he cared. Odd. That bonding between
them. Not friends but mortal enemies and yet.
She went back to the living room and desperately begged Joyce to leave them
alone for a second. Her mother stared at her for a long moment but finally
she nodded and climbed the stairs. Buffy's tired eyes fixed on the vampire
sitting on a chair.
"Don't."
She frowned.
"Look at me like that. I know what you're thinking. Poor William. I'm so
sorry. I couldn't save you." - he lit a cigarette and the smoke waved in the
air as carnival serpentines - "Guess what. Didn't want to be saved. As
bloody freaky as it might sound to you I like being a vampire."
"How can you say that?" Buffy sat at the edge of the sofa, her hands
squeezed on her lap.
"Oh, come on love. You took a peek at my life back then."
Buffy jumped from the couch. Her nerves were hot wires hopping inside her
veins. "I only took a peek of a fucking bitch rejecting you. It was only
that. And you dumped your life only for a woman."
Spike's lips curled in a grin. The butt crashed under his boot when he stood
up. "Think we're even then, pet. You're throwing yours for a man. Only for a
man. And one who doesn't deserve you either, - he snorted, and shortened the
gap between them, - Believe me, I know. I've known him for more than one
hundred and plus years and he's not worth it. Anyway, I want Dru back as I
said.
Buffy sighed and shook her head. Treacherous drops were forming inside her
eyes. "Why?"
His thumb caught the unshed tear hanging from her eyelash. "'Cause it's the
way it has to be." He whispered before turning to the front door.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her searing throat. Her dragon throat.
"If Giles dies.she dies."
He didn't slam the door shut.
"You walk out of this house." Joyce's voice was still hammering in her ears.
And in her heart. She had never expected her mother to fully understand
but.some support? Some encouraging words? Something that would make the
heavy burden of "you're special" a little lighter? How was it that even
after that dust sample her mother didn't accept anything? God bless the
ignorant ones. God bless the others as well. "Angel's blood.one blow.back to
Hell." Her lungs breathed in and out the words. "Kick his ass." The sword
weighted in her hand as if she was carrying all the forges in Hell. A
trickle of sweat ran down her back making her shudder. The cold touch of the
dead. The dark façade of the mansion stood there as a pagan icon staring at
her with defiant eyes. "See if you're capable of this. See if you can kill
those you'd claimed to love."
So the show was about to start. Buffy felt her stomach sink like a ball of
lead. Heavy and choking. Her gaze met Angel's and all she could think was
about that stupid truce and the promise Spike'd made. Her stupid ideas about
bonding. Her stupid feelings for someone who had been dead for more than a
century even though it wasn't for that long in her own memories. William
would have kept his word but Spike? How could she trust in him so quickly,
so blindly? Yet, something inside her clutched to that hope as if it had
been the only safe belt in a shipwreck. She squared her shoulders and faced
the eyes of the shark.
"Do you really think you can take us all on?"
"No. I don't." And that was it. For some reason that escaped to her, that
was the only words Spike needed to jump from his seat. As if they'd agreed
on that. "I'll say this." And he'd start to pummel Angel with some tool that
he'd kept hidden while that crazy bitch looked at him in awe. Buffy could
only stare at her as the fear in her veins turned muddy and profound. She
had to stop that loony before. A vamp attacked her.
"Painful, isn't it?" How many times in his unlife had he wished to do this?
Spike had missed the amount. For being an insufferable bastard. For teaching
me all those things I didn't want to be taught. For crashing every single
thread of fun. For messing with MY things. For destroying this ideal bubble
of love and happiness I made up for my vacuous existence. For trashing even
this little girl I met long time ago. So short ago. So hated and so cared.
Each swing of the andiron marked one milestone of his unlife.
His own cherished, beloved Dru stole from him the fun. It didn't matter. His
other girl, the golden one, the not cherished, not beloved but why do I care
this much? tiny warrior would dispatch that bloody excuse for a grandsire
out of this world with rock demon within the package. Extra bonus delivery.
She was graceful. A little feline glowing with fierce determination. He
finally choked Dru enough to make her fall in his arm. And his warrior's
sword flied across the air. A useless piece of shining metal. A fighter with
her back against a wall facing the tip of a lethal tongue. Spike stopped for
a while but then shrugged and left her to her fate. Behind. In the past.
Where she should have stayed.
The bright light enfolded Angel as she stared at it till it was nothing but
blue dots in her eyes. While she couldn't help but remember another bright
light. Another vortex. One that had changed history. Her History. One that
had filled a century of absence with a painful presence. His Presence.
Unknown, feared demon turned into a helpful, allied demon.
Her tears crashed against a black T-shirt; her shaking hands, killing hands,
justice hands grabbed the red shirt, the black leather. Another stone demon
holding her pain. One fistful of golden hair. One fistful of air. His blue
gaze fixed on her trembling shape. The frantic sobs receded and Buffy raised
her head. A pair of cold, wet lips captured her salty mouth. His arms didn't
move; her hands fell to her sides. Two sculptures joined by their lips. By
their tongues. Her mouth was her only feature. The rest of her body had
disappeared in a fog of obliviousness. Welcomed. Obscured. A Cheshire cat.
Without the smile.
The promise. After all, we are friends. Buffy, hidden behind a tree, watched
her friends as they went into the school. They looked as distant as those
who had walked along a faraway street in London. As if she was only there
watching the telly, a huge screen rolling images of her past life. I'll tell
her everything. But I can't Willow. I'm so sorry! Would you ever understand?
Growing up so soon as though she had been stretched in a rack. A life rack.
The bus that took her away was another vortex. No blue light in it. Only a
constant torrent of street lights glimmering briefly on the stained glass. A
dark road. Black trees and black houses. Not even a candlelight twinkling
its yellow eye behind the curtains. She closed her eyes. Someone was
listening to the radio. Maybe the driver.
The winter here is cold and bitter
It's chilled us to the bone
We haven't seen the sun for weeks
Too long, too far from home
I feel just like I'm sinking
And I claw for solid ground
I'm pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
And, oh darkness, I fell like letting go
If all of the strength and all of the courage
Come and lift me from this place
I know I can love you much better than this
Full of grace
Where everything we said and did
Hurts us all the more
It's just that we stayed too long
In the same old sickly skin
I'm pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
And, oh darkness, I fell like letting go
If all of the strength and all of the courage
Come and lift me from this place
I know I can love you much better than this
Full of grace
I know I can love you much better than this
Buffy leant back, her hands resting on the necklace concealed by her shirt.
A sad smile worked its way to her still tingling lips. I know. Yes. I know.
Too far away from home.
FINReturn to Bloodshedverse Home
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