By Sabrina
& E. Marshall
http://border-princess.net/btvs/lighthouse/index.htm
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is not me. Or
I mean, I don't own her or any of her friends or enemies, those all belong to
Joss Whedon, that monster guy, and 20th Century Fox. I'm just borrowing them
for a little entertainment. Jeff Tweedy and the other Wilco band members also
do not belong to me. I assume, hope anyway, that they belong to themselves and
would enjoy a romp in the Buffy-verse. Again, I'm just playing a bit to
entertain myself and hopefully anyone else who enjoys Buffy. For this
section: I’m not a Latin student. I only had one semester. If it’s wrong, don’t
slay me!
Archive/Distribution: Please link to this site.
Timeline: Fits in probably sometime early second
season. Angel's still got his soul, everyone is still in high school.
Specifically between Reptile Boy & Halloween.
You know its all beginning
To feel like it’s ending
No love’s as random
As God’s love
I can’t stand it.
-‘Can’t Stand It’
‘Watch
it,’ Angel scowled at Xander. ‘If the vampires are still here, we don’t exactly
want them to zoom in on us. I’m going to check backstage and see if anyone has
seen them.’
‘Oh,
right, I see that backstage pass there on your front pocket,’ Xander nodded at
Angel’s jacket. Angel turned his back and kept walking, but Xander continued to
push his luck, ‘Better be careful. What if they mistake you for a crazed fan?
You do realize that you can be a pretty intimidating fellow? Not exactly the
kind of guy a poor defenseless rock star would want to run into alone in a dark
alley.’
Angel
looked around quickly and then hopped onto the stage. He maneuvered his way
through the maze of amplifiers, and stepped over the row of guitars, back into
the wings.
‘Oh,
sure, if you’re gonna be that way about it,’ Xander complained, quickly heaving
himself up on-stage and following the vampire, albeit less gracefully.
A
collage of voices hit their ears as they emerged into the dimly lit backstage
area. They could see several men in the back, standing around the open stage
door. Three of them argued in the entryway, and one stood a couple of paces off
in the alley. Angel walked toward them, with Xander following, and leaned
casually on the announcement-covered wall next to the stage door.
The Bronze’s
owner, a man of about forty-five, with limp bleached-blonde hair, and long
baggy shorts that accentuated his knobby knees, was waving his hands around
wildly as he screeched in Jay Bennett’s face. The owner had a heavy Georgia
accent, and a definite smoker’s croak.
‘What do
you mean you can’t go on!? We had the Red Hot Chili Peppers here just last
week! Their lead singer had the flu—he vomited on-stage five times! The bass player had three broken fingers,
count ‘em—three! You’re a bass player,’ he glared at John Stirratt, who
had his hands folded serenely on top of his bass, ‘You know how hard it would
be to play bass with three broken fingers?! And they all had sunburns! All
of them! They were as red as fucking lobsters! And they didn’t care! They
all got stark naked, and jumped around, and played three of the most amazing
hours I have ever seen!’
John
Stirratt smiled sympathetically at the club owner, but Jay Bennett sighed and
hopelessly ran both of his hands through his dirty dreadlocks.
He took off his glasses, cleaned them
with his flannel shirt, and put them back on. ‘And that means what to
me?’
The club
owner stamped his foot. ‘It means that this is rock and roll boys! It means the
show must go on! It means that you’re here to make music, and that’s what
you’re gonna do—with, or without your lead singer! This is real life—this is
business!’ his voice got higher and more hoarse with every croak.
Jay
rolled up the cuffs of his shirt. ‘Listen, we don’t go on without Jeff. He’s
gone. We’re gone.’
John shrugged and nodded affirmatively,
‘We’re sorry.’
‘Sorry?!’ the club owner fluffed at his
hair, scrunching the limp curls, ‘I’ve got two hundred teens out there who paid
good money to see a rock and roll show. I’m not doing refunds! You call
yourselves professionals—you’d better figure something out! I’m giving you
fifteen minutes to get on stage. If you aren’t, every promoter in the country
is going to know that your lead singer is a real asshole, not a mention a bad
investment!’
Ken Coomer, who had been standing
quietly outside, suddenly gave the abandoned Diet Coke can a mighty kick,
sending it clattering off down the alley. He stormed into the doorway and
planted his substantial bulk right in front of the club manager.
‘What
did you just call Jeff? Why don’t you just say that again? Come on—because I
don’t think that I heard you right the first time.’
He took a step forward, and cracked his
large knuckles as the club manager swore under his breath.
‘Look,’ said the drummer, ‘you promised
us security—that was part of the contract, if I recall correctly, and that’s
what we expected—security! So it seems strange to me that Jeff can’t even step
out the backdoor for a few minutes without being abducted! Where was
security? Shouldn’t your people have been watching him? And if your club is in
such a dangerous part of town, why didn’t you at least warn Jeff that
stepping outside could be hazardous to his health?!’ Ken put on his most
threatening ‘I’m a thug’ face, and gave the manager a slight shove.
‘Look,’
the manager backed up slightly, but narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m giving you fifteen
minutes.’
He stalked off. Ken smiled at John and
Jay.
‘Was I scary?’
John nodded, grinning, with eyes wide. ‘Oh
yeah. I almost soiled myself.’
John and Ken started cracking up. Jay
took off his glasses, put them in his shirt pocket, and rubbed his temples. He
looked like he was going to cry.
Angel
watched the manager go, and then turned his eyes to the remaining three band
members. ‘Jay Bennett?’
Jay
turned around, and eyed the stranger warily. ‘Listen, you heard him. He’s not
giving refunds; we’re not giving refunds. So back off.’
‘I’m not
here for refunds,’ Angel said. ‘I wanted to ask you guys something.’
There
was a clatter as Xander knocked over the band’s extra set of cymbals. He leaned
over, trying to pick them up quickly.
Ken cut
his laughing fit short and raised his eyebrows at Xander. ‘Watch it man, those
drums are all I have in the world.’
‘Sorry,’
Xander looked embarrassed as both Wilco and Angel gave him the evil eye.
‘Three
chicks,’ Angel turned back to the band and looked solemn. ‘Sleazy, groupie
types, probably wearing all leather. They were on the front row earlier. You
guys happen to have seen them?’
‘What?’
Jay looked seriously pissed.
‘OK,
wait,’ Angel said. ‘I mean, you have every right to be annoyed, but just
listen,’ he paused strategically. ‘One of them is my girl. I know she came back
here,’ he looked down at his hands for a moment and then looked back up at the
band. ‘I’d really just like to get her, cause I’m ready to leave now… and… well
you know how it is… women.’
Jay
glared at Angel. ‘One of our band members is missing. We have no idea what has
happened to him, if he’s OK, or where to find him. So as you can tell, we can’t
even keep track of Jeff, let alone your girlfriend. Get the hell out of
my sight.’
‘Wait a
minute.’ Ken spoke up suddenly. He tried to stifle his sudden attack of
laughter, but the corners of his mouth were quivering, ‘She didn’t have red
hair did she? And a mushroom patch on the butt of her pants?’
Angel
glowered at Ken. ‘That’s her,’ he took a step closer to the drummer. ‘You
didn’t do anything with her, did you?’
‘Uh oh. I’m
dead.’ Ken smiled nervously, ‘You must be Spike.’ he offered Angel his hand,
‘I’m Ken. I’m the drummer that made out with your girlfriend.’ he shook Angel’s
hand heartily. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
Angel
blinked. ‘Spike. We should have known. This explains everything...’
‘Spike? Peroxide guy?’ Xander waved a
hand at Angel. ‘Hello, now Spike’s involved?’
Angel yanked his hand away from Ken and
looked disgusted. ‘I knew it. I just knew it! What happened, and where
is she?’ he looked Ken right in the eyes.
‘Well...’
Ken said, ‘Let’s see, Jeff disappeared and we were all hanging around
backstage, like we are now, feeling a little down, like we are now, when these
three girls suddenly appear from nowhere. I’m sitting on the couch, and the
red-head, your girlfriend, comes over to me, takes off my shoes, and starts
massaging my feet, without even asking. It felt pretty good, but I warned her
that my feet were really stinky, and you know what? She didn’t care. She told
me I was really cute, and I told her that she was really cute too, and we
started making out. Anyway, we’d only been making out for about thirty seconds
when the other two girls came over and yanked her off me, saying things like
‘Stop it! Spike is going to kill you!’ So I thought, ‘Uh oh. Boyfriend!’
So they all ran off, and I ran outside, afraid that Spike would show up at any
moment, ready to kill me.’
He
paused, shrugging at Angel, ‘And now, you have.’
‘Damn
it!’ Angel snarled, ‘that tramp!’
It
looked almost certain that Ken was going to get a fist in the face, when John
piped up, stepping in front of Ken.
‘Yeah,
earlier there had been a bunch of crazy-looking girls in the front row, and
these three were definitely some of the same girls The other two wanted to know
where Jeff had gone. They seemed really worried. The blonde one was yelling at
us, really loud. I told her that we had no idea where he was, and she punched
me in arm, really hard. It hurt.’ John rubbed his left arm.
‘Girls are never interested in the bass
player. Ken—’ he looked back at Ken and grinned, ‘Do you find me
attractive?’
They both burst out laughing.
Jay cut
in, frowning, ‘Look, we’ve got a lot on our minds right now and—’
Angel
had a burst of passion, ‘This is why I hate taking her to concerts! She
runs off with every drummer she sees! It’s not my fault I’m not a drummer! I
have no sense of rhythm! It’s not really you’re fault either, man.’
Angel sighed, glancing at Ken, ‘She’ll run
off with any drummer. It doesn’t matter how well he plays, or how hot he is.’
Angel paused, raising his eyebrows at
Ken and shaking his head, ‘She has a thing for a guy with sticks in his hands.
Sorry to bother you guys. Just one more question: You didn’t happen to see
which way they went, did you?’
‘Out
that way,’ Ken pointed out the stage door, ‘I think they just went on down the
alley.’
‘Listen,
thanks. Come on, Xander.’ Angel stepped out into the moonlight.
Xander nodded. He took a step towards
the door and then turned back to Ken. ‘You do know he got his nickname because
he likes to torture people with railroad spikes, right?’
And he was gone, leaving the band to
look at each other warily.
‘Who’s got the crack?!’
Willow
glanced at Jeff Tweedy, and patted his arm nervously. He was shivering and
looking at her like she had an extra eyeball.
‘Uh, Mr.
Rock Star, um… I’ve watched enough VH1 to know that drugs are bad.
Buffy... um,’ she said, ‘what should I do? Um, I think our rock star is about
to do the whole nervous breakdown thing.’
‘Just
keep him quiet.’ Giles said, peering intently at the road.
‘Um,
Giles...’ said Willow, ‘I think he’s trying to open the car door.’
‘Well,
then stop him!’ said Giles, exasperated. His glasses kept fogging up.
Buffy rummaged through the glove
compartment, ‘Giles, where did you say you kept your crack, again? Here,’ she
pulled a small tin out from under some crumpled up papers and a pair of gloves.
‘Here, give him an Altoid.’
She handed the tin back to Willow.
‘Ummm...’
Willow opened up the tin and popped one into her mouth, then held the tin out
to Tweedy. ‘Curiously strong mint?’
Jeff shook his head, and looked at the
Diet Coke can in his lap. His voice was very weak, ‘Mint... and Coke... taste
really weird together...’
‘Alright,’ said Giles, trying very hard
to concentrate, ‘First thing we’ll want to do when we get to the lighthouse is
set up a perimeter about the clearing.’
He put his foot down on the accelerator,
managing to make the Giles-mobile speed down the road at a break-neck 35 miles
per hour.
‘It’s a good thing there’s no hurry for
this ceremony,’ Buffy remarked wryly. ‘A perimeter then? You sound as if you’re
expecting people to find us there.’
‘Well, tonight is the night for the
ritual of Leollyas. My guess is that just because they’ve lost their query,
they aren’t going to go back to their crypts and curl up in their coffins for a
good night’s sleep. The ritual must take place in full view of the moon. There
are very few places in Sunnydale with such a perfect view.’
‘Crypts…’ Jeff Tweedy mumbled, his mouth
very dry. ‘Went to a Halloween gig one time. Went as Dracula. Plastic fang
teeth and all… Couldn’t sing with the teeth in though. Had to take ‘em out.’
‘Does he ever make any sense?’ Willow
asked Buffy.
Buffy turned in her seat and looked back
at Jeff uncertainly. ‘I guess so,’ she didn’t sound convinced. ‘I mean, Angel’s
generally the type to like, you know, all those ‘intellectual’ bands. So, I’m
assuming this… well… he doesn’t sound it right now does he?’
‘Lost my soul in an alley... on the hard
floor... just outside the stage door...won’t go back there anymore...’
‘Uh... guys. He’s rhyming.’ said
Willow. Now she was really scared.
.
‘Could you please get him to be quiet?’
Giles glanced in the rearview mirror to catch Willow’s face. ‘I need to think.’
‘Hello. Giles,’ Buffy spoke up. ‘Having
been a vampire’s midnight snack, you probably wouldn’t make much sense either.’
‘Point taken,’ Giles nodded. His head
was beginning to ache already. He turned off onto a gravel road, the wheels of
the car spinning as they hit the gravel. Everyone bumped in their seats as the
tires bounced out of a huge pothole and into a soggy trench, splashing mud up
onto the windshield and the sides of the car.
Jeff had turned his attention back to
the Diet Coke can. The incredibly annoying clicking sound was amplified in the
confined space of the car. The clicking could be heard, amazingly, over the
rattle of the engine, and even over the vibrating of the hood, which wasn’t
attached as securely as it should have been. ‘Click... click... click...’
Willow, at last, tapped Jeff lightly on
the shoulder. ‘Hey, do you want me to open that for you?’
One corner of Jeff’s mouth turned up, in
a smile of utter disbelief. He nodded at her, and loudly cleared his throat.
She took the can and popped the tab, with one swift, graceful, easy
motion.
‘Thanks,’ he mumbled. And he took a
gigantic swig.
Giles slowed down and pulled off the
road, thunking the car into a small ditch.
‘Okay, plan then?’ Buffy said they
lurched to a stop. She tucked a stake in her back pocket, and handed a wooden
cross and a stake back to Willow.
‘Well, first we get out of the car,’
Giles turned the key and looked back at Willow and Tweedy in the back seat. The
car beeped its annoying little reminder to remove the key from the ignition.
‘Hand Buffy that lantern, Willow.’
‘Lantern?’ Willow looked down around her
feet. ‘Oh, here,’ she picked up a metal frame lantern with a large,
half-melted, ivory candle inside, and passed it forward to Buffy.
‘Here,’ Giles dug in his tweed jacket
for a pack of matches and tossed them to Buffy as he dragged a worn leather
bound volume out from underneath her feet.
‘Hey Giles,’ Buffy said catching the
matches and opening the package. ‘Whatever happened to good old fashioned
flashlights and AA batteries, hm?’ She paused, peering at the little worn
matchbook. ‘The Mirage,’ she struck the match on the back. ‘I didn’t know you
were a Vegas kind of guy, Giles.’
‘Well, actually,’ Giles thumbed through
the book quickly. ‘It was more of a stay for a---’ He stopped and looked at
Buffy, pushing his glasses up on his nose. ‘Not that it’s any of your business.
Or that you would be interested. Now,’ his tone quickened. ‘There’s a hundred
and fifty stairs up the hill and the lighthouse is at the top. The lighthouse
was built approximately a hundred years ago, and has been mostly a tourist
attraction since the mid part of this century. To perform the ritual we’re
going to have to get to the top where there are no obstructions blocking the
moon.’
Jeff Tweedy was taking long slow
swallows of Diet Coke. ‘Hey’ he murmured, looking at no one in particular. ‘Um.
What’s going on?’
Giles continued, ‘If we’re fortunate,
the vampires will have chosen another place in town to do the ritual. However,
since this is one of the highest points in Sunnydale, it’s very probable that this
is the place they chose to do it. More than likely, you’re going to have to
fight, Buffy. It is imperative that you keep the vampires distracted so that I
can perform the ritual to clear Mr. Tweedy’s blood of the plague that dwells
within him. Willow,’ Giles stopped and peered at the text more intently before
continuing. ‘You should help Buffy as much as you can. Don’t put yourself in
any more danger than you have to, but keep the vampires away from Mr. Tweedy.’
Willow nodded enthusiastically. ‘I’ll let
Buffy do the kicking and fighting part. I’ll just wave decorative ornaments in
their faces,’ she slipped a couple more crosses into the purse she had swung
over her shoulder.
‘Good, then,’ Giles was silent a moment.
‘Um,’ Jeff said, thinking really hard. A
couple gulps of Diet Coke, and it was all coming back to him. ‘I think I have a
show to do... I need to get back...’
Jeff took a small sip of Diet Coke, and
just sort of let it foam in his mouth. He looked about the car, and then
swallowed with difficulty. ‘Oh. Have I been kidnapped? I don’t know what you
want me to do, but I really need to get back. I don’t have any money, if that’s
what you want.’ He fumbled around in his coat pockets. ‘Just a few guitar
picks... a lighter... and my mortal soul.’ He leaned against the window,
feeling like he was going to faint again.
‘Right, and it’s that mortal soul bit
that you probably don’t want to trade off.’ Buffy looked back at him. ‘That’s
why we’re here.’
She turned back to Giles. ‘Shouldn’t we
begin already?’
‘Oh, yes, yes, certainly. I was just
trying to find… but then I think this is it,’ Giles looked up from the leather
covered volume, finally pulling his key from the beeping ignition. ‘I’m ready
when you are.’
‘I always said that in the end rock and
roll was going to kill me...’ Jeff’s face was sliding down the cold glass. ‘But
I only said it because I heard Neil Young say it first...’ The lighter and
guitar picks fell from his hands and onto the floor of the car.
‘Let’s get this done then,’ Buffy nodded
brusquely, opening the car door and slamming it shut behind her.
‘I’m right behind you,’ Willow nodded.
‘Let’s go.’
The dark shadow moved articulately about
the lighthouse and then stopped. He planted two combat boots firmly on the
ground and raised his head, taking a long drag on the cigarette in his fingers.
‘Full view of the moon,’ Spike exhaled,
smoke drifting from his mouth and nose. ‘It’ll do.’
He turned to Dalton and nodded abruptly.
‘Now, why don’t you get out your Latin mumbo jumbo and set you up a nice place
to do your scholarly ritual crap so that I can drink the blood of this wanker
and go kill myself a slayer.’
Dalton fidgeted and took his glasses
off. He immediately shoved them back on and put his face in a monstrously large
book, his nose only inches away from the page. He blindly moved towards the
edge of the cliff as Spike continued looking up at the tall white washed
lighthouse.
‘Now, what I’m wondering, if I should
take the time to wonder at all, is what the bloody hell a lighthouse is doing
in Sunnydale? Left over from the days when the sea was higher and the land was
lower? Or perhaps yet another example of humans preferring only the
decorative.’
‘Shouldn’t we have brought more
back-up?’ A vampire with greasy, long brown hair emerged from the woods and
sauntered around the edge of the lighthouse. He was holding a bottle of Russian
Vodka in one hand, and he gulped from it liberally.
‘Well, I considered it,’ Spike took
another drag on his fag, gazing at the moon, ‘But I figured, whether I take you
or not, the only end result is that more of you get dusted, since none of you
bleedin’ bastards appear to be intelligent enough to outsmart the Slayer.’
Dalton glanced back at Spike with a
goofy look on his face, obliviously near the edge of the cliff, ‘It would help
if we actually had the blood for the ritual.’
‘Yes,’ Spike threw his cigarette butt to
the ground and stomped on it. ‘Something that Nastya and her little group of
rock chicks are supposed to be working on. If they aren’t here, well, we’ll
just have to atone for it somehow. Now, your job,’ Spike ground the cigarette
butt deep in the dirt with the toe of his boot. ‘Is to bloody well make certain
that everything is ready to go when they do pull through. Got it?’
Xander
could hardly keep up with Angel. Both of Xander’s shoelaces were untied, and
every time he tried to bend over and tie them, Angel picked up the pace even
more, if that was possible
‘Damn it,’ Angel cursed again. ‘I should
have known that Spike was involved in this. This is exactly the sort of ritual
he would enjoy tremendously.’
‘So, what now?’ Xander stumbled over his
laces, finally catching up with Angel as he stopped on a street corner beside
the Sunnydale Cemetery.
‘Shouldn’t we find Buffy and warn her?’
Xander decided to just stuff the laces in his shoes.
‘That’s what I’m trying to think,’ Angel
said. ‘Since we know Spike is behind this, there’s a good chance that by now
he’s either gone after Jeff Tweedy himself, or sent some more buddies after
him. And he’s not going to stop until he has what he wants.’
‘Right,’ Xander said. ‘So, it doesn’t
really matter if we track down dead girls or not. Spike’s still going to go
after Tweedy. And he’s after Buffy too, so it will be awfully convenient that
she just happens to be with Tweedy.’ Xander actually looked worried. ‘Two for
the price of one.’
Angel nodded, ‘Alright, you should go to
the lighthouse and warn the others.’ he hesitated for a moment, running his
hand through his hair. ‘I’ll keep tracking the groupie wannabes. We can’t take
our chances with any of these vampires’
Xander raised his eyebrows. ‘It’s a long
way up to the lighthouse. How are we going to get there?’
Angel was looking down the road. ‘You
mean how are you going to get there.’
‘What?’ said Xander, ‘But it’s miles
away. Even if I ran, I’d never make it in time!’
‘Find a ride then.’ Angel said, starting
off.
‘Wait! With who?’ Xander stammered,
jogging after Angel. ‘How? Just stick out my thumb and hope someone’s feeling
lucky? Technically, hitch-hiking is illegal, you know!’
‘Go back to the Bronze and ask Cordelia
or something,’ Angel didn’t turn around. He was over the gate to the cemetery
in one easy leap. ‘She’s got wheels, right?’
‘Right, and she’s got a lot of other
things too. A strong desire to tell me to go screw myself, for one. Angel, I
think she probably hates me!’ Xander stalled outside the gate, staring at Angel
as he disappeared among the gravestones.
‘Great. Just great.’ he mumbled to
himself ‘Giving me a ride to the lighthouse is going to make her so
happy. I don’t know how I’m ever going to convince her... something tells me
‘hey, wanna go to the lighthouse and make out?’ just won’t do the trick this
time...’
Jeff Tweedy was on his knees in the
soggy, muddy grass. His disconcerted stomach was engaged in the final throes of
ridding itself of half a can of Diet Coke. He retched until there was nothing
left but a tiny dribble of whatever that clear stuff is that’s in your stomach.
He staggered to his feet, with wet muddy spots on the knees of his jeans, dirty
hands, and a nasty taste in his mouth. He picked up the half-empty can of Diet
Coke, which he had placed carefully on the ground just as all hell had broken
loose in his digestive system. ‘I could really use a cigarette.’ he rasped.
‘Sorry,’ said Buffy, as she clattered up
the stone steps to the lighthouse in her stylish yet affordable boots, ‘But
we’ve got to keep going. We don’t have much time.’
Jeff got back on the main path and
managed to hoist himself up three more of the steps before sitting down again.
‘No. No, I’m not doing it... I’m not going any further...’ he whispered,
causing the gang to grind to a halt for what seemed to be the millionth time.
And they hadn’t even made it up the first thirty steps yet.
‘You don’t get it... or maybe I don’t
get it. I don’t know what the point of all this is... but you are all making me
really nervous... And I have a show to do. I think we were supposed to go on at
nine. What time is it now?’ He folded over and buried his head in his hands.
Willow, who was walking behind Jeff in case
he decided to have a casual blackout and go tumbling down the stairs, took his
arm gently and helped him to his feet again. ‘I know it doesn’t make much
sense, but let’s just say that your life is in danger. We’re trying to protect
you. We’ve got to keep going.’
He looked up at her, his already messy
hair now unbelievably, astronomically messy: sticking out in so many
different directions that it surely defied the laws of science. He took a
tentative sip of Diet Coke as she guided him up the stairs. ‘Is the band all
right? Is my amp all right? Nobody better have touched my amp. You bump it the
wrong way and---’
‘Mr. Tweedy,’ Giles cut in, ‘I am going
to have to ask you to be quiet for the time being---’
‘But I just want to know why---’
‘Mr. Tweedy, please. We need to keep
quiet, and keep watch,’ Giles walked briskly in front of the rest of the gang,
carrying the lantern in one hand, and the book in the other.
‘All these old stones,’ Buffy
complained, glancing down periodically at her boots. ‘They ruin the heels.
We’ve only been climbing for about five minutes and look, they’re already
completely scratched. Now I’ll have to buy new shoes. And Mom wonders why I go
shopping so frequently. Maybe if I wasn’t the chosen one—’
‘You’d just have time to shop more often
than you do,’ Giles pointed out dryly. ‘And Buffy, you may want to stop looking
at your shoes, and start looking at our surroundings. We are in a very
precarious position. It won’t be at all surprising if there are vampires
lurking about in these woods, just waiting to catch us off our guard and keep
us from getting to the top---’
‘You’ve got to appreciate a view like
that.’ Jeff had tripped off the path, and was sitting on the ground, looking
out at the sparkling lights of Sunnydale that stretched out beneath them. ‘One
minute I’m in a tour bus... the next minute I’m at the edge of the universe...’
Buffy rolled her eyes. Could this
evening get any worse? ‘Look, you’ve got two options,’ she quickly kneeled down
next to Tweedy, ‘Option A: You come with us. Option B: You stay here and get
sucked dry by thirsty vampires. It’s easy to take your blood for granted: you
never miss it until it’s gone.’
Jeff stood up slowly, his butt now as
soggy and muddy as his knees. ‘All I ask is that you phone my family and tell
them I got lost in the stars.’
Willow took his arm once again, ‘Come
on, we’ll phone your family just as soon as Giles performs a ritual to make
your blood safe, and Buffy saves the world from the forces of evil.’
Jeff looked down at his feet and said
very seriously, ‘I think there’s something wrong with me.’
‘That’s the understatement of the
evening,’ Buffy muttered as she continued up the stairway, falling in step with
Giles. She sighed loudly. The brisk walk up the steps was causing her to sweat,
and her shirt was dry clean only. She fell into a sullen silence.
Amazingly enough, the whole group had
fallen into a silence, broken only by the sounds of shoe soles scratching
against the crumbling rock stairs. Trees and bushes grew straight up on either
side of the rock path, their branches groping out like hands, attempting to
hold back anyone who would try to breach the passage.
About halfway up the hill, the path opened
up into a small clearing and the ground flattened out for an area of about
three yards. Buffy took one step into the clearing. She was more than ready to
get all this over with.
Giles halted, holding out the lantern
cautiously in front of him. His breathing became slow and quiet. ‘Slowly, Buffy.’
Buffy nodded and took several more steps
forward. Slayer senses alert, she scanned the clearing. Nothing looked
suspicious. She stood a moment, listening. The only sounds were the breeze that
traveled through the bushes, breathing, and Willow whispering ‘be quiet,’ to
Jeff Tweedy.
‘I think we’re good, Giles,’ Buffy
turned around silently. ‘Let’s get through here.’
‘I’m not sure which I dislike more,’
Willow whispered. ‘The extreme silence or a hoard of vampires.’
‘Vampires…’ Tweedy croaked, ‘I’m going
to pretend I’m in a movie. All black and white and mosaic fades... widescreen
camera shots of the moon...’
‘Shh!’ Willow, Buffy and Giles all
hissed at once.
‘Mr. Tweedy--- uh--- Jeff, pretend this
is a silent movie, OK?’ said Willow
‘All right,’ Buffy said to the group
with a louder voice, her slayer senses satisfied. ‘Let’s keep going. We should
be getting closer.’
They all crossed the clearing with a few
quick, nervous steps and continued up the stairs.
The flickering lantern cast strange
shadows over the jagged stone path. Jeff eyed them suspiciously, and shook a
little as he took another sip of Diet Coke, ‘I don’t think they like me very
much...’
‘When are we going to know it they’re
here or not?’ Buffy spoke over her shoulder to Giles.
‘I don’t know,’ Giles said. ‘They may
not want to tip their hand until we’re closer. Of course, they may not be here
at all. It is entirely possible that we’ve sent them off on a wild goose chase,
and they are looking elsewhere for their necessary sacrifice.’
At this, Buffy turned around sharply,
her breath catching softly in her throat. Giles barely halted in time to keep
from banging into her.
‘What?’ he asked at her incredulous look.
‘It is a possibility, if not a probability.’
‘Right. I know.’ Buffy rubbed her eyes
with the back of her hand, and started walking again. ‘We’ve got to be getting
closer to the top.’
‘Buffy,’ Willow spoke in a loud whisper.
‘What if they’ve been watching us this whole time and they’re just waiting to
ambush us up there?’ She was forced to pause for a moment as Jeff had stopped
and tipped back his head in order to drink the last few drops of his Diet Coke.
‘Then we kill them,’ Buffy responded resolutely.
Jeff dropped his can to the ground, and it began to clatter down the stone
steps.
‘Or we kill you,’ a voice snarled from
the darkness. A vampire with a dark Afro and sunglasses jumped out of the
bushes, and quickly snatched the clattering can. He crushed it in his hand and
threw it at Buffy. ‘Littering,’ he sneered. ‘And you say you’re trying to save
the planet.’
‘You know,’ Buffy said, cocking her
head, ‘there’s only one thing I hate more than surprises, and that’s a vampire
with really lame one-liners.’
‘Just give me the rock star and no one
gets hurt.’ afro-man licked his lips. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve rock
and rolled.’
‘That’s because rock and roll is
dead...’ Tweedy muttered to himself.
‘Oh yeah?’ afro-man grabbed Tweedy by
the hood of his coat. ‘You ever heard the AC/DC song “Highway to Hell”? Well
you’re on it.’ He snarled and two more retro-looking vampires sprung out of the
woods.
‘Not so fast,’ Buffy exclaimed, wielding
the stake and plunging it into afro-man’s chest. He exploded it into a cloud of
dust, causing Tweedy to stumble backwards and tumble down several steps.
Buffy glared at the two remaining
vampires. ‘Don’t even think about touching the rock star. He’s still got a show
to do. Vampires these days... no appreciation for quality music.’
The two vampires hissed and went
crashing through the brush, as Buffy sprung after them. She staked the slower
of the two right in the back, and then began to grapple with the other, who had
turned around and spat in her face, laughing like the lunatic he was.
‘You know,’ Buffy complained through
gritted teeth, ‘If I had needed a facial, I would have asked.’
Tweedy was sprawled across several of the
steps, staring cross-eyed at the stars, ‘I think I lost my head. Could someone
help me? It went rolling...down there... somewhere...’
‘Willow, quickly,’ Giles grabbed
Tweedy’s hand and began lugging him to his feet. ‘We’ve got to get him to the
top and start the ritual!’
‘What if there are more of them up
there?’ Willow’s eyes widened.
‘Then you’re going to have to fight and
we hope that Buffy does not get detained further.’ Giles said, hauling Tweedy
reluctantly towards the clearing at the top of the stone steps. The beam from
the top of the lighthouse was in full view, radiating across the indigo sky in
slow arcs, brighter than the moon.
‘Give me one of those pointy sticks,’
Jeff rasped, his breathing all wheezy sounding. ‘I’ll keep them away.’
Willow grabbed Jeff’s other hand and
assisted Giles in the near-impossible task getting the staggering, stammering
musician to the top of the steps. ‘Just a few more steps to go.’ she mumbled,
‘Just a few more.’
‘I can fight. I grew up in St. Louis.’
Jeff fell to his knees, nearly dragging Willow and Giles with him, doubled over
by a nasty, nagging smoker’s cough.
‘Willow,’ said Giles, heaving Tweedy
over the final few steps, ‘Once I begin the ritual, it will be necessary for me
to give it my full concentration---I’m afraid it will be up to you to keep the
vampires away from Mr. Tweedy. He’s an extremely easy target, as you can
see---’
‘I can fight,’ Jeff repeated himself, in
between hacks of his nasty coughing fit. ‘I grew up in East St. Louis.’
Giles
stopped, looked at Tweedy with his eyebrows raised, and let go of his arm.
‘Hm...Well, Mr. Tweedy, I didn’t know. I suppose, then, you have more
experience than we thought.’ he reluctantly handed Jeff a stake.
Jeff turned the stake over in his hands,
briefly entertaining the thought of staking himself. East St. Louis. Right.
More accurately, he had grown up east of St. Louis, in Belleville,
Illinois---a teeny tiny town about 20 miles east, to be exact. He touched the
end of the stake with the tip of his finger. It was a little dull.
Meanwhile, Buffy was still grappling
with the spitting vampire. He had launched his saliva at her at least seventeen
times in the course of two minutes, and Buffy could tell that her bad mood was
quickly becoming a really, really bad mood. Finally, she got him pinned
up against a tree, but unfortunately she had to endure about two more gallons
of saliva to do so. She plunged the stake into his chest with a strong urge to
spit at him herself. Instead, she turned on her heel and was at the top of the
steps before he had even turned into the obligatory poof of dust.
She reached the clearing just in time to
be greeted by an awful retching sound. Jeff was on his knees, throwing up
again, with a wooden stake clutched tightly in his hand.
________________________________________________________________________
‘She’s coming,’ Drusilla turned her head
to the moon, gazing into the otherworldly pearl as if she were seeing straight
into its heart.
‘Who’s coming, Pet?’ Spike turned back
around to look at his ebony haired queen. She didn’t look away from the moon,
but instead stood eerily still, gazing deeply into its depths.
‘Love,’ Spike stepped forward and pushed
a tendril of Drusilla’s hair behind her shoulder. ‘Who’s coming?’
She turned to look at him now, gazing on
him with wide luminous eyes, as if seeing him for the very first time. ‘The
Slayer.’
Xander entered the Bronze for the third
time that evening. The crowd was thinning out, as the young people were getting
increasingly sick of waiting for no-show Wilco, and were wandering off in
search of other Saturday night diversions. Quickly scanning the restless crowd,
he spotted Cordelia right away. She was over on the stairs talking non-stop to
three Cordettes, leaning on the railing in a way that made her butt stick
out. Xander watched her butt for a
minute, and then finally began weaving through the crowd towards the stairs.
‘So I told him that I just didn’t date
freshmen. You know how they are! They think they understand things! They think
they’re hot stuff, cause, you know, they’ve finished junior high!’ A tittering
of laughter rustled through the girls, ‘But they don’t know how to dress, and
honestly… no car? As if I’m going to be interested in someone who doesn’t have
a license! And doesn’t even know how to drive!’
‘Cordelia,’ Xander spoke up. ‘Having a
license and knowing how to drive are unfortunately not always the same thing.’
Cordelia stopped talking and rolled her
eyes as she turned around to face him, giving him one of her superior smiles.
‘Right, Harris. And that would be, lucky for the rest of us, why you have
neither a license… or a car.’
‘And you have both, which is the
scariest thing of all,’ Xander spat back, ‘and it just so happens that I need
both. Right now.’
‘What? You came to ask me if you could
borrow my license and my car?’ Cordelia blinked a couple of times and then
smiled patronizingly. ‘I’m sorry to say Harris, well, no, I’m not sorry to say
it: you and I look absolutely nothing alike. So, it probably wouldn’t work real
well even if I was stupid enough to let a brainless geek like you use my car and
my driver’s license.’
‘See, Cordelia, beats me why I’m even
sharing this piece of information with you. But I know where the band’s lead
singer is, and I can get you in close to him.’
Cordelia sighed loudly. ‘What are
you talking about?’
‘He was asking me about you. He told me that
he thought you were hot, and when I told him that I knew you, he asked me if I
could...’ Xander paused, and waved his hand around. ‘Oh well, I guess it
doesn’t matter. Obviously, you’ve got more important things to do. You might as
well get back to discussing your conspicuous lack of a love life...’ He
turned away, praying that she would take the bait.
‘Wilco’s lead singer?’
He’d pulled it off. Xander turned back
around, slowly squeaking his shoes along the floor. ‘Yep.’
‘Where?’
‘Ah,’ Xander shook his head. ‘See, you
have to take me along with you. Or... well... I just might not feel like
sharing.’
‘Why do you want to come along?
Obviously, the lead singer doesn’t care about you. Besides, from what
you said, it sounds like we might be wanting a little privacy.’ her perfectly
plucked eyebrows shot up, and she flashed an innocent smile at the Cordettes.
They all giggled again.
‘Oh...’ Xander swallowed hard, ‘Let’s
just say I made him an offer he can’t refuse. See, he’s a little shy. Here’s the
deal: I tell you that he likes you, and get you for him, and he gives me,’ he
grinned and pushed her hair out of the way, whispering in her ear, ‘all the pot
I can smoke in one night.’
‘This isn’t a trick,’ Cordelia narrowed
her eyes. ‘To get me alone somewhere and try to make-out.’
‘Please!’ Xander exclaimed. ‘I certainly
have better things to do with my evening then spend it kissing an ice queen.
I’m not in the mood to freeze my lips off, thank you very much.’
Cordelia looked him over, standing with
one hand on her hip and clacking the manicured fingernails of her other hand
against the metal railing. Xander gave her his best stoned smile.
‘All right. Let’s go.’ she quickly
turned to the blonde who was half-sitting on the railing. ‘Well Harmony, It
looks like I’ve got a date. Don’t worry, you guys will get the hang of the
whole rock concert thing,’ she laughed loudly. The three Cordettes tittered and
began following her down the stairs.
‘It just takes a little practice, that’s
all.’ Cordelia tossed her hair over her shoulder, ‘maybe the other three band
members are still backstage. I got a good look at them, and they are so
totally adorable,’ she giggled, ‘but not as adorable as the lead singer.
You really should go find them--- rock stars are just such a nice change from
the whole lame highschool scene!’
Xander started off, trying to keep his
smile under control, and Cordelia followed him, glancing back at the Cordettes,
who were already heading for the door to the stage. ‘Just try not to do
anything too embarrassing, OK? Chou!’
‘All right, Buffy,’ Giles motioned her
in front of the group as they neared the top of the cliff. The trees were
thinning and the clearing was just in front of them.
‘Do your worst.’ he smiled grimly, the bright
beam of the lighthouse reflecting off his glasses as he peered up at it.
‘Right,’ Buffy stepped around the group,
climbing forward cautiously. Sure enough, within seconds, two vampires seemed
to have materialized directly in front of her. They stood with their arms
crossed, and looked down at her, smirking. They were both freakishly tall.
‘We knew you were coming,’ the tallest
one snarled, taking a gigantic sloppy swig from a bottle of Russian vodka.
‘Welcome to the party.’
The shorter of the two exceptionally
tall vampires leered at Buffy, his eyes glowing brightly, and his huge mouth
stretched across his face.
‘Gee, thanks, it’s nice to be so loved,’ Buffy said, taking one
step forward. ‘Unfortunately, I just don’t see this non-relationship going
anywhere. Do you?’
The leering vampire licked his huge lips
and flung himself at her. Buffy ducked, using the momentum of his jump to fling
him over her back. He shrieked like a girl as his gangly body went flailing
down the hill and into the trees. Buffy lunged forward, meeting the taller,
greasy vampire foot first and whirling him out into the clearing. He tripped
over his own feet, sloshing Russian vodka all over himself and cursing savagely
in Spanish.
‘Giles!’ She called over her shoulder,
‘I’ll hold them off! Get started on the ceremony!’
Giles and Willow grabbed Jeff Tweedy by
his winter coat and shoved past Buffy. She was grappling with the tallest
vampire, who was still holding the bottle of Russian vodka, and was somehow
managing to swig from it between blows.
Giles and Willow shoved Jeff down onto a
park bench that was facing the looming lighthouse.
‘Call me Ishmael,’ Jeff sneered up at
the lighthouse’s bright beam, ‘call me Jeff, call me God—I don’t care what you
call me, but don’t ever call me your friend.’ he was aiming the stake at
the lighthouse’s roving beam. He waved the stake around menacingly. ‘It was you
all along, wasn’t it? Well come and get it, you big, nautical, son of a bitch.’
‘Oh, good Lord,’ sighed Giles, ‘The mind
of a rock star works in mysterious ways. Willow, keep watch---I must
begin the ceremony.’
He began making a circle around the park
bench with some strange-smelling dust that he poured out of a little leather
pouch.
Jeff stood up and stumbled toward the
lighthouse, muttering, and brandishing his stake. Willow pushed him back down
on the bench.
‘Mr. Tweedy,’ said Giles, glancing
peevishly at Jeff, ‘you may attack the lighthouse after I complete the ceremony.
Good Lord...’ he muttered again, and kept pouring the dust.
Jeff reached deep into the shadowy
recesses of his winter coat and pulled out another can of Diet Coke. He glared
at the blinding eye of his arch nemesis, and defiantly popped the can’s tab
with one firm tug. He took a rebellious swig.
Before Jeff’s slurp had reached his
stomach, a tall black shadow had appeared behind him. Giles and Willow turned
around just as Spike grabbed Jeff by his unruly black hair. Spike smirked and
yanked Jeff’s head backwards, causing a loud pop in his neck, and a backwash of
Diet Coke that went spewing onto the front of his coat. ‘Ow!!! Son of
a---’
‘Heh! Delivery service,’ the familiar
British accent cut in. Spike yanked Jeff’s head back even further, and smiled
casually at Willow and Giles. ‘When did you become a UPS man, Giles? It
suits you, really. Not too much of a fashion switch though—brown tweed to…
well… brown cotton.’
Spike yanked Jeff’s head around so that he
was looking right into the full moon. Jeff glared at the moon, which was still
smiling at him, just like it had been in the alley behind the Bronze. Just like
the damn Summerteeth album cover. His neck was twisted at an obscene
angle. He couldn’t swallow. He couldn’t breathe. He was beginning to black out
again.
Spike was still talking. ‘It appears
that my delivery has arrived just in time—such prompt service. I want to thank
you, really.’
He twisted Jeff’s neck just the tiniest
bit further, so that Jeff was looking at the stars—the California stars, to be
exact. The lyrics of the song ran through his head, and they had never seemed
more poignant than they did just now, ‘Yes, I’d give my life to lay my head
tonight on a bed of California stars... God bless Woody Guthrie. I think I’m
dying...’
Another popping sound, and the stake
fell out of Jeff’s hand as his body went limp.
Willow’s eyes widened.
Spike nodded in appreciation. ‘It’s not
often that I get presents like this.’
‘Thank you, Spike,’ said Giles calmly,
through gritted teeth, ‘you have just succeeded in completely and accurately
defining the term ‘soulless bastard.’ Now, if you could kindly step
aside and give Mr. Tweedy a bit of air. He still has a concert to do.’
Spike looked bored. ‘I’m sorry there
mate, but I’ve given up on rock and roll. Anarchy is our only option.’ He
sighed loudly.
‘Then it is anarchy you shall have,’
said Giles, looking Spike right in the eyes, ‘Buffy!’ Giles called out to the
slayer, who was still fighting behind him.
Buffy whirled around, with one hand
grasping the drunken vampire’s throat. She inadvertently locked eyes with
Spike, and during that one second, the greasy vampire slapped her savagely
across the face. Being covered in vampire spit had been disgusting, but this
was getting ridiculous. Her cheek burned. That slap was going to leave a
nasty mark—she would be wearing an inch of concealer and foundation tomorrow.
And to make matters worse, she had clumsily dropped her stake, and it was rolling
down the steps and into oblivion. She was getting so angry that she could feel
tears springing to her eyes.
‘You know,’ she grunted, ‘the booze has
obviously impaired your judgment, because that was a really dumb thing
to do.’
With one furious lunge she ripped the
bottle of vodka from the vampire’s massive hand and used it to bash him over
the head. The bottle shattered, and vodka mixed with blood trickled down his
face in little waterfalls as he toppled to the ground.
Spike let go of Jeff’s hair, and whirled around to face Buffy, who
had appeared directly behind him.
‘Spike,’ she said, taking a fighting
stance, ‘I thought you knew better than to let your henchmen drink and
duel.’
Spike chose to ignore her snide remark,
and instead grinned at her infuriatingly. ‘I was just telling your Watcher here
thank you for his superb delivery service. He’s a jolly wanker. You should hang
on to him, really. You know what they say: good watchers are hard to find.’
‘Really?’ Buffy said, tilting her head
at the peroxide blonde vampire. ‘Good watchers are hard to find? Cause, it
really looks like that’s all you’re doing: watching. Watching me dust
all of your little minion types.’
Willow quickly slid onto the bench, next
to Jeff. His head was slumped over to one side, but he appeared to be
breathing. ‘I’m sorry,’ Willow cringed, ‘this will only hurt for a second---’
she took his head gently in her hands, and swiftly straightened out his poor
neck with one nauseating ‘crunch!’
Jeff blinked sleepily. ‘I really
need a cigarette... just one cigarette...’ and a nasty phlegmy cough came
rattling out of his over-exerted lungs.
‘Oh dear.’ said Spike, ‘I’m afraid I was
a little rough on our sacrifice. He is most likely in desperate need of a
chiropractor. ’
Buffy’s eyes narrowed, ‘So—are you going
to stand there till the sun rises or do you actually want to get on with the
ceremony?’
‘Preferably the ceremony. But first I could use with a snack, and
there’s nothing quite like the blood of the Slayer.’ He grinned at her. ‘And I
should know.’
‘Come and get it,’ Buffy responded.
The two enormously tall vampires had
staggered up behind Spike. The shorter one had leaves and twigs tangled up in
his hair, and the taller one had blood and vodka dripping down his face.
‘Don’t just stand there!’ Spike yelled
to the two vampires, ‘Get that bloody rock star.’
‘Speaking of rock stars’ quipped Buffy,
‘you really ought to do something about your hair. The Billy Idol look went out
with eighties.’ Buffy’s foot snapped forward and she caught Spike firmly in the
small of the back. He staggered slightly and then whirled around, growling.
The fight was on.
Angel had caught up to the three girls
and he knew immediately that these were the chicks he was looking for. One had
curly hair and was wearing a backless leather top, and another had the infamous
mushroom patch sewn on the rear of her jeans. He kept a good distance behind
them, not wanting to alert them to his presence.
‘I didn’t even get to taste,’ the dark
curly haired one complained. ‘And then Spike has to be all, ‘we’re not going to
turn him’ about it.’
‘Alyn was the only one who got to taste
anything. That bleached-blonde bimbo! She was always such a selfish hog! I’m glad
she got dusted... ’ the short haired blonde stomped her clunky combat boot.
‘Joycelyn, stop walking on my heels!’ She whirled around and glared at the
clumsy red head with the mushroom on her butt.
‘Sorry, I wasn’t trying to. I just
didn’t want to hurt the little red flowers. Oh no,’ tears sprung to her eyes as
she gently plucked a crushed flower from the ground, ‘I hurt the flower...’
The shorthaired blonde, Estrella, rolled
her eyes. ‘Oh hell. Nastya, make her go away!’
‘Can’t.’ Nastya kept walking, ‘Just live
with it.’
Joycelin tucked the flattened blossom
behind her ear and began happily humming a Queen song.
Angel continued following them as they
turned west through the woods. They
were definitely headed towards the lighthouse.
‘We can’t go back without Tweedy,’
Estrella exclaimed, ‘Spike will stake us!’
‘No he won’t, Estrella.’ Nastya ploughed
on ahead. ‘You’re too uptight. Anyway, what if he’s already found Tweedy and
we’re out here wandering around like idiots for nothing? We should check in,
and see if he’s there--- See if we can change Spike’s mind about turning him.’
Estrella let out an aggravated sigh,
loudly blowing stray strands of her chin-length blonde hair out of her face.
‘Nastya, we don’t need another bloody---‘
‘Shh!’ Joycelyn exclaimed suddenly. ‘I
heard something!’
Angel stopped and slipped into the
shadow of a nearby tree.
Joycelin was pretending to be Freddy
Mercury, and was about to let loose a rousing chorus of ‘Under Pressure,’ just
as Estrella clapped a hand over her mouth.
‘Shut up! I can’t believe
this...’ Joycelin was still attempting to sing, and slobbering all over
Estrella’s hand in the process.
Nastya ignored them and looked around,
listening intently.
‘There’s nothing there,’ she said finally.
‘Joycelyn, you are an idiot.’ Estrella
removed her hand from Joycelin’s mouth and wiped the slobber all over
Joycelin’s shirt. ‘Now, let’s go to the lighthouse and we’ll see if Spike’s
found that rock star,’ she turned to Nastya with overstated patience.
Angel drew an unnecessary breath of
relief and followed after them.
Giles felt like everything had gone into
slow motion. He stared at Buffy for a second, before moving into action.
‘Willow, behind you!’
‘Let me up, I’ll get them,’ Tweedy
attempted to raise up off the park bench, as Spike’s two minions started
towards them. ‘I bet Jay Farrar’s behind all of this. Why is he still so
pissed at me? That mean-spirited, dark-minded, drunken---’
‘No, no!’ Giles pushed him back down. ‘I
need you to be right here. And I need you to... Damn!’
The stench of hard liquor filled his
nostrils. Vodka Man was already nearly on top of them. Giles dropped his book
in Tweedy’s lap and flung a crucifix out with one hand as he grabbed for the
crossbow in his satchel. Vodka Man flung back and growled.
Willow was also holding a cross out in
front of herself, attempting to keep the big mouthed, leering vampire away. He
rabbed her butt before flinging back, repelled by the cross.
‘Giles!’ she yelled, completely
offended. ‘What should I do? He just touched my butt!’
‘Damn it,’ Giles glanced around
feverishly. There was another vampire, a curly haired female, coming around the
corner of the lighthouse. ‘There’s too many of them! I’ve got to perform the
ritual!’
He thrust the cross into Tweedy’s hand.
‘Here, hold this out over your shoulder.’
‘All
right, nice vampire...’ Willow stammered as Mr. Sleazybegan to advance toward
her again, still leering.
Spike caught Buffy on the back of her
knees and she fell into a somersault. She sprung to her feet just in time to
grab Spike’s arm and fling him against
the lighthouse’s whitewashed side. He impacted hard and turned back around,
growling.
‘Always
in the way, aren’t you Slayer?’
‘I do my
best,’ Buffy said, risking a glance at her friends.
‘Bloody
idiots!’ Spike exclaimed, following Buffy’s gaze. ‘You’re stronger than them!
Don’t let a tiny little cross scare you off!’
Buffy
took advantage of Spike’s momentary lapse of concentration, and grabbed the
stake that Tweedy had dropped to the ground. She jumped in between Mr. Sleazy
and Willow. She kicked Mr. Sleazy right where it counts. He collapsed,
screeching like he’d inhaled mass amounts of helium.
Spike
was on her in a second. He grabbed her by the back of her jacket, and flung her
across the clearing into a fence. Buffy slammed into the steel links, and
dropped to the ground, momentarily stunned. The sound of a scream pulled her
out of her stupor, and she glanced up to see Willow trapped in Spike’s arms. He
slanted her head back, giving himself ideal access to her neck. With a cry,
Buffy picked up her stake and flung it across the clearing.
The stake caught Spike squarely in the
left shoulder, and he howled, hurling Willow to the ground.
‘Bloody hell!’ he exclaimed. ‘Enough!’
Spike flew at Buffy. And now he was really pissed.
Willow clambered to her feet, and caught
hold of Giles’ arm. ‘Here, I’ll take this,’ she said breathlessly, grabbing the
crossbow from him. ‘You need to perform the ceremony!’
Giles snatched the book from Tweedy’s
lap, and began fumbling through it. Tweedy, seeing Nastya gazing at him, stuck
the cross in her direction. She was one of those girls from the front row--- one
of those girls in the alley. Oh no. Not again ‘I uh...’ his lip twitched, ‘I really
need a smoke.’
She shook her head and a gentle smile
spread over her crimson lips. She waved her finger at him as if he were a small
child to be scolded. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, darling. I would never hurt
you...’
Giles turned the pages rapidly, his
fingers slipping as he did so, murmuring to himself. ‘Need the potion, need
the...’
Willow loaded the crossbow and pointed
it in the direction of Vodka-Man. He stupidly lunged toward her, and she pulled
the trigger, closing her eyes at the last moment. The arrow missed his heart,
lodging itself in his shoulder instead. He drew back, once again cursing
savagely in Spanish.
Giles pulled two little vials from his
coat pockets. He awkwardly balanced the book on one arm, opening the bottles
with trembling fingers. He poured some of the light blue potion into the holy
water, reading the words of the ritual from the book as he did so, ‘Antiquus
anima pervenio haec nox.’
Willow grabbed another arrow and began
to reload the crossbow, but she wasn’t fast enough--- Vodka-Man was back for
more. In a panic, she seized an ancient Gaelic cross from the bag and pressed
it against the vampire’s forehead. He stared at her idiotically, not noticing
the impact of the cross until the smell and sound of sizzling flesh hit his
senses. He took an enormous leap backwards, screaming, and smacked into another
red-headed female.
‘Hey! Ouch! You stepped on my toes!’
Joycelyn exclaimed, pushing him back towards Willow.
‘Tweedy...’ Nastya murmured, as she
continued to advance towards him. ‘My love.’
‘Excuse me while I wretch,’ Estrella
said, sighing raggedly.
‘Who are the new vampires?’ Joycelyn
asked, ‘I don’t recognize these people.’
‘That’s because they aren’t vampires,
you nitwit,’ Estrella exclaimed. ‘It’s the slayer and her friends! And they’re
messing with our sacrifice!’
‘No! I won’t let any of you hurt him!
Not you, Estrella! Not even Spike! He’s mine!’ Nastya flung herself
melodramatically at Tweedy’s feet.
Jeff Tweedy’s eyes widened and he leapt
up, making sure to grab the can of Diet Coke that was sitting forlornly on the
bench. ‘It’s OK...’ he smiled slightly, ‘I’m just going to go home now...’ he
took a few shaky steps away from the bench.
Giles looked up from his book, ‘Wait!
Tweedy! We need to-’ He was cut off by a cry. The precariously balanced book
toppled off of his arm, ‘Buffy!’
Spike had seized her by the throat, and smashed
her up against the fence. Giles ran towards her, trampling over the fallen
book, but he was outpaced by a dark shadow that flew through the courtyard, and
launched itself on Spike. Spike crashed to the ground as two dark-coated
figures rolled over and over each other.
Buffy painfully gasped for air, and
watched as Spike and Angel banged into the lighthouse with a loud, dull
‘thump!’ Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jeff Tweedy. ‘Giles!’ she
screamed hoarsely.
Giles whirled around to see a
curly-haired vampire with her arms carefully wrapped around Tweedy, and her
fangs deep in his neck. His eyes were glazed over, but he still somehow held
the Diet Coke can in his hand.
Willow’s eyes widened. She and Giles
both rushed towards Tweedy.
Buffy glanced at Angel again, and raced
across the clearing, throwing her full body weight into the vampire and her
prey. They all tumbled to the ground.
Buffy and Nastya jumped up, with Tweedy
lying lifelessly on the ground between them. Buffy hit Nastya across the face.
Nastya didn’t flinch, but began to circle around Buffy, growling. Her mouth
dripped with blood, and there were tears in the vampire’s huge eyes. ‘You made
me hurt him. I never wanted to hurt him...’
As Giles, Willow, and Buffy fought off
Vodka-Man and the three female vampires, Angel shoved Spike’s face into the
fence.
‘Turned
sick puppy dog, have you?’ Spike taunted the older vampire. ‘Slayer’s got you
drinking out of her hand.’
‘You.
Leave. Her. Alone.’ Angel growled, the demon in him fully out. He banged
Spike’s head into the fence once more and sent him careening across the
clearing, around the other side of the lighthouse.
Spike
raised his head from the ground, mud smeared across his bloody chin. He saw Drusilla
standing near the edge of the overlook. Her white nightgown was transparent in
the moonlight.
‘Such a
pretty fight,’ she smiled at the moon. ‘But it’s time to leave now.’
‘Dru,
get away, in the woods,’ Spike hissed at her. ‘Dalton, make her leave,’ he
waved a dirty hand at the scholarly vampire who was uselessly standing around
with a book pressed closely to his chest, his eyes wide with fear.
Spike
snarled and sprung to his feet, lunging at Angel again.
‘But it’s
time to go now,’ Dru turned to Dalton. ‘Isn’t it? We have our blood.’
Dalton
nodded. ‘Go into the woods. I’ll get Spike,’ he nervously pulled Drusilla
towards him,. ‘Come on, move quicker, Spike’ll-’
‘Leave
Spikey to me,’ Drusilla lowered her eyes and danced past Dalton. ‘What a
wonderful, beautiful night this is...’ She clapped her hands as she moved into
the shadow of the bushes.
As Willow held off Joycelin with her
cross, Buffy launched herself at Estrella and Vodka-Man, using one of her favorite
cheerleader flips to give her the momentum for a killer kick. With one foot she
slammed Vodka-Man into the lighthouse, and with her other foot she knocked
Estrella to her knees. She went after Estrella first, grabbing an arrow from
Giles’ bag.
‘Oh
hell...’ mumbled Estrella staggering to her feet, just as Buffy thrust the
arrow into her heart. Estrella looked absolutely furious as she flailed for a
brief moment, kicking at Buffy with her combat boots, before her limbs turned
to dust.
Vodka-Man
had propped himself up against the lighthouse. His head slumped down on his
chest. Buffy flew toward him with the arrow, then stopped. He didn’t flinch. He
didn’t even look up. He was singing a Beck song to himself, ‘MTV makes me wanna
smoke crack...’
‘Are you
OK?’ Buffy said.
‘I’m
tired. I need a drink. I give up.’ He sighed. ‘It’s a damn shame, don’t you
think?’
‘You can
say that again,’ Buffy plunged the arrow into the inebriated vampire’s chest.
He exploded into dust. Even his dust smelled like booze.
Giles picked up the book again and flipped to the proper page. ‘Sicarius
eum cado eum permitto ascendo sicario.’
‘Spike!’
Dalton yelled.
‘Not
Now! Can’t you bloody well see I’m busy!’ Angel lunged at Spike and sent him
flying back into the lighthouse yet again, the whitewashed wood painfully
gouging into his shoulder blades. He growled as Dalton reached out and grabbed
his sleeve.
‘Nastya’s
drank his blood,’ he motioned to the curly haired vampire who was tumbling with
Buffy. ‘It’s all we need! Let’s get out of here.’
‘What do
you mean?’ Spike glared at Dalton as Angel knocked him off his feet.
‘Just---
that we have it! We can have it!’ Dalton sputtered.
Spike rolled
over and scowled at Angel. ‘Enough. Enough!’ His voice echoed through the
clearing loud enough for Joycelyn and Nastya to hear him. ‘Get out of here!’
He was on his feet and shoved past Angel
like a football player, dashing across the clearing and into the woods.
Nastya snarled at Buffy and then jumped
back, following Spike around the lighthouse.
Joycelyn screamed, which caused Willow
to scream--- and then tripped along after Nastya, ‘Wait! Hey Nastya! Wait for
me! I can’t run in these shoes!’
For whatever reason, Joycelyn’s platform
shoes appeared to be about four sizes too big.
Buffy stared after the vampires, gasping
for breath. ‘O-kay. So I guess that means we won?’
‘We’ve almost won.’ Giles closed the book. He swirled the vial of
fluid around in his hand five times.
Buffy knelt down next to Jeff, who was
still lying semi-conscious near the park bench. His neck was oozing blood where
Nastya’s fangs had been ripped out of him when Buffy had thrown them all to the
ground. ‘Sorry about that.’ she said. Se hauled him to his feet. Jeff carefully
touched his tender neck and stared at the blood on his fingers.
‘Umm…’ he whispered, ‘Does anyone have a
band-aid?’ He could feel the blood trickling down his neck. It itched. ‘Umm…
tourniquet?’
‘Mr. Tweedy? I need you to drink this
now,’ Giles handed the brimming bottle carefully to Jeff.
Angel
frowned. ‘I don’t like this.’
Jeff
shook his head as he stared at the vial. ‘I can’t--- won’t--- I, I can’t. I
quit this stuff a long time ago. Won’t drink it. No more.’
‘Are you
all right?’ Buffy looked at Angel’s torn dirty jacket and bloody lip.
‘I’m
fine. You?’
Buffy
nodded. ‘Willow?’
‘Couple
of scratches. I’ll probably be sore tomorrow. But I’m good.’
‘Here,’ Giles
grabbed the Diet Coke and poured the fluid into the can. ‘Drink this.’
Buffy
ran a hand through her not-so-clean hair. ‘Well, we dusted a couple of them. I
could have finished the job if they hadn’t taken their snack and ran.’
‘Snack?’
Angel looked at Tweedy. ‘Damn it! That’s why Spike left.’
‘What?’
Buffy whirled around to face Angel. ‘Left why?’
Tweedy
took the Diet Coke. ‘Uhhhhhhhh...’ He took a tiny slow sip. ‘This tastes weird.
Can’t drink anymore. I need to throw up.’
‘Mr.
Tweedy,’ said Giles, placing his hand on Jeff’s arm. ‘You must finish drinking
all of it, or your life, and Buffy’s life too, will still be in danger.’
Jeff sat
down carefully on the bench. Sometimes if he didn’t move, he didn’t throw up.
He wiped his runny nose with his coat sleeve, very slowly. He just couldn’t
bring himself to drink another sip.
‘Mr.
Tweedy,’ Giles was standing right in front of him, ‘you are not going to
throw up. If you do not drink every drop, the whole ritual will have
been in vain--- your life will still be in danger. Can I be any more emphatic?’
Jeff was
afraid that breathing would send his stomach over the edge, let alone talking,
but he ventured to whisper, ‘Ask again, and concentrate really hard...’
Giles
sighed. ‘Mr. Tweedy,’ he knelt down, and put a comforting hand on Jeff’s knee,
feeling completely ridiculous, ‘I’m concentrating. Now, please, just
drink it. All of it.’
Jeff’s
face was ashen, and he had broken out into a miserable sweat. ‘Could I get a
little more volume,’ he whispered, ‘Don’t need it, but it’s for a good
cause...’
‘Damn
it, Mr. Tweedy!’ Giles shouted, his voice echoing up to the moon, ‘Drink the
bloody Diet Coke! Now!!!’
Jeff put
the can to his lips, and drained it in five sloppy gulps. ‘I’m going to throw
up...’ His head was between his knees.
‘Vigor. Puritas. Prudentia. Lux.’ Giles
spoke the concluding words to the ceremony just in time. Within seconds, the
essential contents of Jeff’s stomach were on the ground between his feet.
Giles
staggered back. He had broken out into a cold sweat himself. ‘We did it... the
ceremony is complete.’
Willow
flopped down on the bench next to Jeff, her muscles already beginning to ache.
‘It sure has been a long night. You OK?’ she patted Tweedy encouragingly on the
back. ‘It’s over. Giles did it. You can go back to being a normal rock star
now, OK?’
Giles
looked very serious. ‘Willow, there is no such thing as a normal rock star.’
Tweedy
also looked very serious. ‘I’m not a rock... not even a star. More like the
moon.’ his voice was fading, as his throat was quite raw by this time.
‘That’s
right,’ Willow smiled, helping him to his feet. Standing up made him
exceptionally dizzy, and he sat down again, nearly missing the bench.
‘It’s
OK, you’re just nearly out of blood, that’s all. Don’t worry, it’s happened to
me lots of times. And you’re a rock star, right?’ she smiled gently, joking,
‘I’m sure you know where to get more.’
She helped him up again, slower this
time, putting his arm carefully around her shoulders.
He
leaned sleepily against her, ‘Thank you. Thanks.’ he whispered, ‘Thank you...’
His messy hair was brushing against her cheek, almost getting in her mouth. He wasn’t
much taller than she was, and just now, in her arms, he felt very small.
She was looking at the moon. It was
really beautiful tonight. ‘You’re right...’ she thought out loud, ‘You are
like the moon.’
For some
reason, she felt like kissing him.
‘The loophole!’ Angel’s voice rang out,
ripping the first peaceful moment of the evening to shreds. He looked
desperately at the moon, and it didn’t look anything like Jeff Tweedy---but it
was still high in the sky, shining as brightly as ever. ‘They can still perform
the ritual.’
He caught Buffy’s eyes. Her eyes were
bright in the moonlight. Angel never felt sick---but he was feeling sick now.
‘We’ve got to stop them.’
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