Fic - Stepchild of Belief
Title - Stepchild of Belief
Disclaimer - they belong to Joss Whedon not me
Rating - PG-13
Pairing - Spike/Dawn, implied Buffy/Angel
Time line Post series (AR, no comics canon)
Summary - The team gets called to rural West Virginia to investigate a bizarre string of deaths
Author’s Note 1 - Thanks to
evil_little_dog for the beta. This was written for the Happy Endings ficathon. Challenge parameters are at the end.
Author’s Note 2 - I’m not exactly sure when I wrote this as it seems to be published at none of my usual spots. However, judging by the subject matter, I’m going to say it was around 2006-2008. The Mothman Festival is a real thing but it no longer uses the amphitheater for the talks described here and the Bennigan’s is long gone. But in the time frame I just mentioned this is how the festival was and yes I’ve retconned this a tiny bit. Also it’s AR, ignoring the comic canon because at the time I hadn’t read them (and still haven’t as far as the Buffy comics are concerned).
XXX
Chapter One
“This is just nuts,” Buffy scowled, looking at the tightly-packed, festival vendor stands that crowded the street just across from their hotel; the Historic Lowe Hotel.
“Oh, come on, Buffy. You just know Andrew and Xander are eating their hearts out. They’d love this assignment.” Dawn gestured at the silvery statue across the street of a muscular man with an insectoid head and ‘lacy’ metal wings. “The Mothman Festival just screams Xander’s name.”
Buffy snorted. “No argument. Where did my Watcher go?”
Dawn pointed toward the river. “Down at the amphitheater. He wanted to hear Rosemary Ellen Guilley speak. Besides, he’s still grumpy that you stuck him in a room with Spike. It’s best to just let him be.”
Buffy grimaced. Ever since Angel and Spike had survived the apocalypse in L.A., they, along with Angel’s kid, had joined in with Buffy and company. They had caught up with the Slayer in England and just started pitching in. It felt like...well, not old times, but it felt good to Dawn. Nostalgia was good sometimes. There was something uplifting after a long day to hear the three-way snark fest between Angel, Spike and Xander, and heaven help them if Connor joined the fray. Poor Angel usually ended up taking refuge wherever he could get some peace.
There had been uncomfortable moments, of course, especially at first with the vampires and Buffy but to Dawn’s surprise Spike had stopped pursuing her sister. He seemed hurt that Buffy hadn’t bothered to contact him when he came back from the dead. When she had come back to life, she had run to Angel. Spike saw her failure to meet him to be a sign that whatever they had was over. Spike spent his energy trying to keep Angel from Buffy but he looked like he was running out of steam for it. Dawn was grateful because that was getting old.
“Buffy, look.” Dawn held up a little, gray, stuffed winged man. “Mothman! I have to get one for Giles and Xander...wait, no just Giles. Xander needs a Mothman T-shirt.”
“He’ll wear it proudly,” Buffy said with a wag of her head. “But I don’t see how this helps at all.”
“We don’t even know why we’re here yet,” Dawn replied. “Besides the reports. It’s not enough to narrow it down. It seems like a lot of strange unrelated accidents. The only thing that links them is the persistent smell of cut grass, dandelion and a hint of sulfur.”
“And what’s up with that?” Buffy ran a hand through her hair. She had shorn it short and couldn’t stop playing with it, unsure if she liked it. Dawn didn’t. Buffy was still too thin, and the short hair made her look more anorexic. However, Dawn knew how much of a detriment long hair could be in a fight.
Dawn rolled her shoulders in response to Buffy’s question. “No clue about the smell. We’re still looking for that in the books. Want me to go to the amphitheater with Giles and listen in to the local mythology?”
Buffy glanced towards the river, and then shook her head. “No, and Angel and Spike have the book and web work covered.”
“Or Angel has the mouse shoved up Spike’s butt at this point or vice versa,” Dawn replied, moving on to the next vendor.
Buffy snorted. “More likely than not. Stay with me. You can be an extra set of eyes at the scene of the last attack.”
“Okay but first, look.” Dawn held up a Mothman mug. “For Giles and the stuffed Mothman can be for Willow.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Dawn!”
“Lighten up,” Dawn shot back and ignored her sister’s puckered face so she could make her purchases. Buffy was too damn serious anymore, and she hated it. Dawn ran the silly stuff back to the hotel, which was just across the street. She ignored the sounds of vampires arguing coming from Giles and Spike’s room next to hers and headed back out to catch up with Buffy. “Okay, ready, where to?”
“The guy who contracted Giles owns a furniture store right there.” Buffy pointed down the block.
“Convenient.”
They walked down the crowded streets, past the old store fronts. Efforts had obviously been made to preserve the nineteenth century facades. Huge balls of flowers were supported by black wrought iron poles in a beautification attempt. It was a community hanging on by its fingernails but it was trying hard to keep itself not only alive but pretty.
The furniture store was catty corner to a bar that had a strange, almost Mediterranean-looking flourish to its crumbling balcony. The windows above the furniture store were boarded up and painted to match the store front. There was something depressing about it for Dawn’s money and the bar across the street creeped her out, though she couldn’t say why.
No one greet them as they came into the store, as if no one particularly cared if a couch got sold that day. They made it all the way to the counter and had to ding the bell before a sales person came out to greet them.
“What can I help you ladies find?” he asked, his bottle brush mustache jiggling.
“We’re looking for Mr. Hutton. He called Mr. Giles about the...” Buffy broke off and glanced around as if she expected someone to show up in the store. “The body in the apartment.”
The man’s ruddy face lit up. “Oh, you must be Ms. Summers then. I’m Mr. Hutton.”
Buffy nodded. “I’m Buffy and this is my sister, Dawn.”
Hutton’s watery blue eyes narrowed. “You’re younger than I expected.”
“We’re good at what we do though,” Dawn offered, cheerily.
Hutton rolled his flabby shoulders. “I felt like I was in an X-File when this all happened. One of the local kooks...uh, I mean psychic mediums suggested I call this Mr. Giles.” Hutton paused for a moment, looking lost in thought as he absently stroked his mustache. “Well, I guess this would be the place for feeling like you’re in an X-File.”
“Because of the Mothman?” Dawn glanced toward the storefront and to the people in costume outside the glass.
“Him, the UFO’s, the curse of Cornstalk.”
“What?” Buffy broke in.
“Indian curse.” Hutton shrugged. “Don’t know much about it. Maria could probably tell you more.”
“The medium?” Dawn asked, thinking that name sounded familiar.
He nodded. “Come on. I’ll show you the apartment. It’s upstairs.”
Dawn made a face behind his back. She and Buffy had lived for a little bit above a store in London and once the thrill of being in the center of things wore off, she found it tedious, noisy and often smelly with the bars and restaurants and all their dumpsters too close by. She wouldn’t want to die in such a place. Then again, Dawn wasn’t sure where she might want to die. Given her lifestyle, it wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on.
“You can get up here from inside the store or the staircase behind the building,” Hutton said as he unlocked the door. “Both doors were locked from the inside until I opened it up to find Tori when her boss called to see why she hadn’t been at work in two days. She was simply dead, didn’t look like she had been attacked or anything. The police seem to be stumped.”
“There was something said about a funny smell,” Buffy prompted, her eyes raking over the sparsely furnished apartment.
Hutton nodded. “It smelled like grass clippings and coal fire to me. You girls aren’t from around here, are you? You’ve probably never smelled a coal-burning stove.” He grinned slightly. “Kind of like bad eggs sometimes. Now, the apartment mostly smells like bleach from me and my wife cleaning up the place, though I don’t know who’ll want to rent it after what happened here. I need to get back down to the store. Just come back down when you’re done.”
Dawn waited until he was gone before saying, “I can’t imagine wanting to rent it in the first place. All the windows overlooking the street are bordered up.”
“Yeah, not of the cheery,” Buffy remarked, starting to poke around.
There was little to see as far as Dawn was concerned. Someone had obviously been here and packed up all of Tori Morehart’s personal belongings, leaving just the furnished portions of the ‘furnished apartment.’ There was a hint of bleach stench in the air but even that was faint now. Too much time had passed. She let Buffy take the living room and bedroom while she investigated the bathroom and kitchen. The door to the backstairs was inside the kitchen.
She went out onto the ‘balcony’ such as it was, a warped little thing that left Dawn with vertigo. She would have hated carrying groceries up those steep steps in the winter, heck at any time. As Dawn turned to go inside, she saw something in the upper corner of the door, stuck in the hinge. It looked like mulch. Dawn pried it free. It really did seem like something that would be found in a compost heap and there was still a faint grassy scent to it. “Hey, Buffy,” she called.
“Find something?” her sister replied hopefully.
“Maybe.”
Buffy popped out of the bedroom, eyes bright. She came over and took a look at what Dawn held. “Looks like something someone scraped off their shoe.”
“And if it had been on the threshold, I’d agree but I found it at the top of the door and it does kinda have the smell everyone’s talking about.” Dawn worked up some enthusiasm for her find. “Think I should take it back to Giles?”
Buffy nodded. “It’s better than nothing.”
And nothing was all they found otherwise. The sisters headed back to the Lowe hotel, disappointed.
Chapter Two
“This place is almost as weird as Sunnydale.” Dawn pouted, having listened to some of Giles’ narrative about the festival talks as the team lounged in his hotel room. Maria, the psychic, had joined them.
“It is lacking a hellmouth,” Giles said, hoisting his evening tea in his new Mothman mug.
“Tell me you have more than that after all day of research. Do you know how boring it was being cooped up with Captain Forehead?” Spike groaned, sprawling on the bed, his eyes trained on the old, remoteless TV.
“I’m sure you made Angel suffer enough to work a few years off his redemption,” Giles replied wryly. Spike grinned proudly and fist bumped Connor, both of them expertly ignoring Angel’s glare. “I found out a lot of interesting things from this area, but maybe Maria would like to tell us about it, being as she’s the native.” Giles waved a hand at the young, slender psychic. Dawn noticed Connor watching Maria intently, unsurprisingly as she had all the things Connor liked, a bit of age, dark hair and big shocker, nice boobs. Dawn hated that she felt a touch insecure about her own endowments.
She smiled, giving her long ash brown hair a tug. “Thanks, Rupert. I think we can safely dismiss both the Mothman himself and Indrid Cold and the UFO’s,”
“Who now?” Buffy interrupted, with her usual mild irritation at not knowing Demonology A-Z.
“I see you didn’t get to spend any time at any of the festival talks,” Maria said, sounding disappointed. “Indrid Cold is the alien that visited this area around the time of the Mothman sightings. No one is sure if they’re related. The Mothman was originally called ‘the bird’ because he was seen as a seven foot tall man like creature with wings and huge red eyes like an owl’s. I have no idea when or why they corrupted it to Mothman but that hardly matters. He did scare people but there were never any reports of real violence.”
“Giles has a soul mate,” Buffy whispered to Dawn who grinned.
“I’d concentrate on the Curse of Cornstalk, if I were you,” Maria went on, giving no signs she heard Buffy.
“Huh?” Buffy asked, looking as if she were wondering if maybe she should have sat in on a lecture or two.
“Keigh-tugh-gua, a Shawnee chieftain in the late seventeen hundreds, we saw a lot about him on the net,” Angel put in.
“The last time we came across Indian curses, Harris came down with syphilis, most hysterical thing I had seen in forever.” Spike laughed and Connor grinned. Xander wasn’t pro-Connor, mostly because he wasn’t pro-Angel, and Connor was the type to take offense.
Dawn slapped Spike across the chest. “That wasn’t funny.”
“Matter of opinion,” he replied, pulling out his cigarettes.
Dawn took them. “No smoking in here.”
Giles glared at Spike through slotted eyes. “Are you finished, Spike?”
“I’m good.” He went back to watching TV.
Maria glanced between them as if to be sure they were done then continued. “Cornstalk was a friend, more or less, to the settlers in the area but eventually they turned on him. They murdered Cornstalk, and he cursed not only the land but all the hopes of those living here forever.”
“Wouldn’t you think if it was a curse that old it would have manifested before this?” Buffy asked, toying with her short hair.
“Not necessarily,” Giles said, sipping his tea.
“And it really has been manifesting all along. This is one of the most haunted areas in the country. We have ghost lights and banshees, not to mention disasters like coal mine fires, deadly jail breaks, floods, air plane crashes, the Silver Bridge collapse. Hell, even Cornstalk’s monument was struck by lightning and destroyed,” Maria said, ticking off the points on her fingers.
“The University of Rio Grande, across the river in Ohio, has a center for Welsh studies, the only one of its kind in the country. Seeing as the Welsh miners called this area the Land of Bones, it might be prudent to examine what they knew and see what records they left behind,” Giles suggested.
“Lovely, I don’t speak Welsh,” Buffy groaned, leaning back in her chair.
“I thought Dawn and I could go tomorrow,” Giles replied. “And we might think about going a little further northeast to Athens, Ohio. It was built by spiritualists in theory.”
“Their five cemeteries are laid out in a pentacle of power centering over Ohio University,” Maria added, and they all seemed impressed with that sort of bizarre town planning. “But that might be all local legend since finding hard proof of that is sketchy at best.”
“Can’t miss that, can you, Slayer?” Spike rolled his eyes.
“Sounds more like a job for you, Connor and Angel,” she zinged back. “In the meantime, we patrol tonight, unless you and Spike have anything to add, Angel.”
Angel shook his head. “We found a lot of websites about the Mothman and the curse but nothing particularly helpful.”
“Other than they’re obviously smoking the good stuff around here,” Spike said, giving his belly an absent scratch.
“That’s also not helpful,” Dawn glared at him.
“Whatever. I’m not cut out for the book work.” Spike rolled to his feet. “Come on, Bit. You’re with me.”
Dawn rather liked the sound of that. She picked up some stakes and a knife that was small enough to be concealed but sharp enough to do real damage. Buffy no longer protested her patrolling, which was good since it was obvious to everyone she was Watcher material. That meant a bit of work-related risk. Moreover, Dawn liked being with Spike. She had forgiven him as best she could for the thing with Buffy. Being willing to die to save the world, both in Sunnydale and again in LA, had a lot to do with her new attitude.
Dawn hated to admit it but she was back to having her crush on him. Maybe it never really went away. That would account for some of the troubles she had with Buffy from time to time, lingering anger over being the sister not Chosen. It might even explain that night in the French Rivera with Danny, a college kid with bleached blond hair and an English accent that she woke up with after one too many glasses of wine and a lot of regrets.
“There really isn’t much to do around here,” Spike said as they headed down the narrow, old streets.
“Some people like it that way.”
“Not me.” Spike shook his head. “Rural is rarely a vampire’s friend.”
“I guess that would mean less meals and higher risk of being found out,” Dawn said.
He nodded, “Something like that. For me, I’d die of boredom...or maybe just hope to catch a random stake.”
“It’s not that bad...of course, there are no malls around here for miles.” Dawn’s nose wrinkled up. “You might have a point.”
Spike laughed and took the lead. A few hours later Dawn was convinced Spike might be right. It was possible to die of boredom. Not that she really wanted to see monsters but there was absolutely nothing happening at all. It was a roll up the sidewalk kind of place. Outside of the few bars, there was little activity of any kind.
Eventually Dawn found herself sitting on the cement amphitheater steps, looking out over the dark ribbon of the river below. It was peaceful here, and she found she didn’t mind that much. Spike sat next to her, smoking quietly. She could almost feel him getting ready to speak. Spike was never one for sitting quietly. “Ever wonder what it would be like growing up here?” she asked. “I mean you grew up in a big city. And I....didn’t grow up at all.”
He put an arm around her loosely. “I guess I’d probably have been different if I had grown up in the middle of nowhere. Maybe I never would have died...” An indescribable look flashed over his face. “But look at what I would have missed out on.”
“Sometimes I think maybe having a nice normal life would be so good but I would have to forget everything about the real world. I used to daydream about that.” Dawn swept her hair back. “Then after talking to Connor, I realize it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“You should stay away from that walking hard-on.” Spike wagged his cigarette at her.
“Spike, honestly! You sound like Buffy...only she didn’t put it quite so bluntly.” Dawn wondered if the darkness hid her blush. She really hadn’t thought that way about Connor but everyone, except the boy in question, thought she had.
“Not like Buffy at all. She didn’t want the scrawny brat around because she wants to preserve your honor. Me, I don’t want him around because then I might have to fight him to do this.” Spike leaned in unexpectantly and kissed her lightly.
Dawn’s spine stiffened in shock. Spike sent his cigarette away in a glittering arc then slipped his hand behind her head, pulling her in for a deeper kiss. His kiss was bitter like tobacco, cool but enticing. His tongue flicked over the roof of her mouth, tickling her, before descending to wrestle with her tongue. His teeth clicked over hers as she wrapped her arms around him. His shoulders might be slender but there was nothing but muscle under her hands.
“Nice,” he whispered when their lips parted.
Dawn didn’t give him time for more words, pressing her lips back against his as she slid into his lap. The next several minutes were lost in the explorations undertaken by lips, hands and tongues. She loved the way his tongue moved in her mouth, the pull of his lips seeming to draw from deep wells within her. Cool to the touch perhaps but so hot at the same time. Her body felt on fire, warm and wet down below, flushed and swollen all over. She wanted to feel his lips elsewhere. Dawn was content to never move from this spot and wouldn’t have if her cell phone hadn’t chosen that moment to ring. Reluctantly, she slid it out of her pocket. “It’s Buffy.”
Spike sat back and took out his cigarettes. “Answer her or she’ll come looking for you. She’s more likely to stake first ask questions later, no matter who it is sniffing around her kid sister.”
“Yeah, Buffy?” Dawn said into her phone knowing full well Spike was right. “Nothing here either...Giles wants to leave how early? Is he nuts? Fine, I’ll come back to the hotel now.” Dawn slipped the phone into her pocket. “Giles wants me with him tomorrow at the crack of dawn, no pun intended.”
Spike gave her a disappointed look. “Probably easier to just not argue. Come on, I’ll walk you back.”
Dawn’s lips fell. “I don’t really want to go.”
He smirked. “I know.” Spike wrapped an arm around her and walked her back to the hotel. They had to pass the creepy balconied bar again. Dawn shivered. “What is it, Bit?”
“I don’t like that bar. I don’t know why but I just don’t.” She glared over her shoulder at the place.
“I’ll look into it for you,” Spike said.
“You’re not staying at the hotel?” Dawn blurted out then grimaced, hating to sound so needy. Of course he wasn’t going to stay. He was a vampire. The night was still young for him.
“Been cooped up in there all day. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dawnie.” Spike stroked her hair then closed in for a final kiss.
It was over too fast and then he was gone back down the street. Dawn went inside to the creaky metal-framed bed and flopped down both exhilarated by the night’s turn of events and disappointed in having to end it so soon. Sleep proved to be elusive, and she chased after it all night.
Chapter Three
Dawn rubbed her dry eyes. She had spent the whole day with Giles at the little university in Ohio, pouring over boring Welsh writings that told them next to nothing. They made the run to Athens, as well, with nothing to show for it. When they got back to the Lowe Hotel, Spike and Angel looked just as bored and disappointed as she felt. Buffy was out somewhere in Point Pleasant with Connor in tow and was supposed to meet them at the Red Parrot Café which was owned by the hotel. Dawn was hoping for good food. The only thing the University of Rio Grande had going for it was the Bob Evans restaurant across the street - right on the actual Bob Evans farm which was not as cool as it might sound. Dawn wasn’t a fan of ‘good old American’ cooking. She had gotten the sense that Giles was disappointed Maria hadn’t gone with them but all the freaks and geeks at the festival would go a long way to lining Maria’s psychic pockets. She couldn’t afford to close her shop to go with Giles and her.
Buffy and Connor, as it turned out, were waiting for them inside the Red Parrot. They all ordered then sat staring at each other for a few long moments as if to say ‘someone go first.’ Finally Buffy asked, “Anything exciting happen?”
“Not unless you count Spike stealing our room key so he could play in the Jacuzzi,” Angel replied.
Spike rolled his eyes. “You and the Slayer get a Jacuzzi room while me and Rupert are stuck on rickety twin beds from hell in that suite. I guess I shouldn’t complain, at least we have two TV’s.”
“Luckily I have my own room.” Connor smirked.
Dawn’s mind was flooded with images of Spike naked in a hot tub. They were very good images.
“So, that’s a no to anything exciting.” Buffy blew at a strand of her hair. “Same goes for me. All we saw were a bunch of UFO geeks at the festival. We should have just sent Xander and Andrew and been done with it.”
“Unfortunately, we did not learn very much from the University or from Athens,” Giles said.
“It was a big waste of time. It’s like these people just expect weird things to happen around here and they do,” Dawn scowled, rubbing her forehead. “Welsh gives me a headache.”
“It is one of the most difficult languages in the world,” Giles said, placatingly.
“What about that bar last night, Spike? Was there anything weird about it or am I just letting myself get creeped out by the ambience?” Dawn asked.
He shrugged. “I didn’t see anything but small town drunks but...there is an odd feel to it. Maybe it’s not all imaginary. I was planning on going back tonight.”
“Guess it’s something.” Buffy glanced over at Giles. “What do we think about that piece of yuck Dawn found in the last victim’s apartment?”
“I’m not sure. It seems like it is nothing more than yard clippings but there is something odd about what’s holding it together. Neither Maria nor I know what to make of it,” Giles responded.
Dawn lost interest in the conversation after that. No one had much interesting to say about the case and her mind was too occupied with thoughts of Spike. She wished she could have stayed at the hotel and helped him with the research but a fat lot of good it would have done with Angel there. It’s not like he would have left the blond vampire alone with her. She had no idea what she’d do about her extended family when it came to the vampire. Dawn hadn’t forgotten how Xander and the others had viewed Buffy and Spike. She could only imagine it would be uglier if she told them she wanted to date Spike.
Date Spike? Did one actually date him? Probably not in the tradition sense, she decided. Either you were with him or you weren’t. She knew which one she preferred. Oh yes, she wanted very much to be with him and to hell with any protests. Her life, her choices, she’d do what she wanted. Dawn didn’t filter back into the conversation until Buffy announced it was patrol time and Spike was claiming Dawn again as his partner. She wondered just how much patrolling would actually get done.
For a while, however, neither of them spoke much, just wandering the streets. Dawn knew why. They needed to put a little distance between them and Buffy, not to mention their work should come first. People were dying after all. But this night was just like the one before, dead quiet, boring.
“Spike, about last night,” she said finally, not sure where she was going with this but she needed to say something.
His blue eyes fastened on her. “Having second thoughts, Bit?”
“Only about that nickname.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “And...okay, I have put a lot of thought into us today...more interesting than dusty old books in Welsh. I’m not sure what to make of it, our history, yours with Buffy, how human we’re not but I know you care about me and have since before Glory. That counts for something. More importantly, I like how I feel when I’m with you.”
Spike smiled almost shyly. That’s what she liked about him most, when he dropped the brash armor and allowed what was left of the sensitive man he had been shine through. “Glad to hear it, Dawn. I was half afraid I made a bloody fool of myself over a woman.”
Dawn practically glowed at being called a woman. “Wouldn’t be the first time, I bet.”
He snorted. “Hardly.” He captured her in a kiss.
She gave in to for a few moments then pushed away. “We’re in the Bennigan’s parking lot.”
“So? Who cares?”
“We should be patrolling,” she said, hating herself for it. Kissing him was far more interesting than patrolling but what if someone died on her watch?
“You think this isn’t how the Poof and your sister patrol?” Spike said, laughing, his lips moving over hers.
She grabbed his hand and started pulling him out of the parking lot. “Don’t want the world watching.”
“What world? This is the most boring town ever,” Spike protested but followed her into the alleyway.
Dawn found herself pressed against the brick of the buildings and somehow didn’t mind. It felt good having Spike against her. Maybe she should have minded, demanded someplace more romantic than a grungy alleyway. Well, it wasn’t like she planned on doing more than kissing here and if Spike had more in mind, he’d be terribly disappointed.
“Dawn, Spike! There you....” Buffy’s voice died out.
All Dawn could see was her sister backlit at the mouth of the alley. Spike had sprung away from Dawn the moment Buffy spoke. Dawn ran a hand through her hair. She was not about to let her big sister bully her. “Why are you looking for us? You could have called.”
“Giles called me. There’s been a killing at the amphitheater. It’s in your territory. I figured just to round you up on the way,” Buffy said as Dawn and Spike walked toward the mouth of the alley. “What did you think you were doing?” That growl was directed at Spike, not Dawn.
“Leave it, Buffy. We have a dead body to worry about. You can have your snit later,” Dawn said, brushing past her and Angel. She stalked toward the amphitheater, not waiting for her sister. Dawn heard Angel telling Spike he should have more sense. Yeah, they should have realized Buffy and Angel would have something to say. Well, she had realized it but she hadn’t cared.
Giles, Connor and Maria were waiting for them on the cement steps overlooking the river and oddly no police yet. Dawn wondered why not then realized Giles must not have called them yet. She was just grateful that Buffy had done as she asked and let it go for now. Maybe with the new business at hand, Buffy wouldn’t be so angry later.
“We won’t have much time. Maria got a vision of this.” Giles waved a hand at the dead young man on the steps. He was dressed as a Man in Black for the festival. “We’ll need to call the police but I thought if we had a look at the scene beforehand we might learn something.”
“Maria, did you see what did this or just the victim?” Angel asked.
“Just the victim, lying right where you see him now,” she replied, regretfully.
“I smell the grass and sulfur,” Buffy said, sniffing the breeze off the river.
Angel nodded. “It’s strong and I have no idea what kind of demon would make that scent.”
“Me neither,” Spike added, reaching for his cigarettes.
“Guys, here. More of that matted up grass stuff,” Dawn said, pointing to a blob of it two steps down from dead young man. “It kinda smells like river.”
Giles came over to where Dawn was pointing and collected the material. “This must mean something. Does anyone know of a demon that sheds...grass clippings?”
“No,” Angel replied, his brow knitting in concentration, and Connor shook his head.
“That has to be a really weird blighter,” Spike said.
“On that one X-File but other than that, no.” Dawn shrugged.
“X-Files?” Buffy shot her the ‘Xander, if you don’t have something useful to say...’ look.
“You know the one where Mulder and Scully were pretending to be married living in that community that told you what kind of paint you had to use on your mailbox and what sort of curtains to hang. It was made out of grass and trash...what the heck was that thing called,” Dawn bullied on even though she knew it was stupid. “Guess I’m not quite the geek Xander is.”
“We’re grateful, Bit,” Spike said, patting her shoulder.
“Maria, did you even get the sense of where this thing came from or where it went?” Buffy said, turning her back on Dawn and her X-File thoughts.
“No, I’m sorry. You all should clear out. I’ll call the cops. I’m the local. They won’t think anything of me taking a walk by the river,” Maria suggested.
“I doubt we’ll find anything else. It’ll give Giles some time to look at that yuck Dawn found.” Buffy glanced over at her sister. “Good work, Dawn.”
“Thanks,” Dawn said, grateful that at least Buffy was still speaking to her.
“I’ll need your help back at the hotel with this substance, Dawn,” Giles said and Dawn reluctantly followed him back to the Lowe.
X X X
“I’m not saying it again, Buffy, it’s my life and I’ll do what I want,” Dawn snarled, crossing her arms over her chest. She was sure that was the hundredth time she had said that since coming back to the hotel. She was starting to wish she had followed Connor’s example and not have returned to the hotel at all. He was somewhere roaming free from the arguing, lucky brat.
“You’re just a kid.”
“No, you just insist on treating me like one.”
“Enough of this,” Giles snapped, looking up from where he was teasing apart the grassy stuff Dawn found. “I cannot think like this and if you don’t be quiet either the hotel management will come to put us out or the police will. Buffy, you are obviously not going to change Dawn’s mind about this, and she’s past the age where you can do anything about it.”
Buffy whirled on her Watcher. “So, I just let it go?”
Giles slapped a hand on the table. “Yes.”
“How can you say that?”
“Apparently, it’s my nature to look the other way. You were younger than Dawn when I started looking the other way when you were seeing Angel. I didn’t say much when you were with Spike.” Giles’ lips thinned. “All right, I laughed a lot but other than that...these aren’t your choices to make. They’re Dawn’s.”
“Thanks, Giles.” Dawn smiled at him.
“Cause trouble wherever you are, that never changes,” Angel sniped at Spike.
“I don’t expect you to get it, Angel but I expected more out of you, Slayer. Or did you forget you weren’t the only one who climbed that tower, willing to die for Dawnie?” Spike said, his eyes suddenly sad. He turned on heel. “I’m going back to that bar and see if I can scare anything up.”
“I’ll go with you,” Angel said, probably just as glad to get out of hotel room that he had spent far too many hours in all day.
Buffy looked rather abashed as she watched Spike leave.
“I couldn’t have said it better,” Dawn said then sat next to Giles, “So, any idea what we have here?” She pointed to the matted junk.
“Not a ruddy clue.”
“Well, we need to get one fast, Giles. This thing is killing faster now.” Buffy sat on the bed. “What can Dawn and I do to help?”
Chapter Four
“I think I have it,” Giles said, poking his head into Dawn’s room.
She glanced out of the tiny bathroom with its ancient plumbing, toothbrush still in her mouth. Buffy looked up from where she sat on the bed, calmly telling Dawn why dating Spike was a bad idea. “Yeah?” Dawn asked around the brush head.
“Your comment yesterday, Dawn, got me thinking,” Giles said.
“The X-File thing?” Buffy asked incredulously as Dawn went back into the bathroom to spit and rinse
“No, the belief of the locals that this area truly is cursed. They believe so it becomes truth and it’s used to explain all the strange natural disasters,” Giles said.
“How does this help us?” Dawn asked, coming back into the room.
“Thought-forms. In Tibetan mysticism, it’s possible to create these thought-forms, to give them a physical form and often they get away from their creators,” Giles said. “Tulpas, I think we’re dealing with a Tulpa that has been made from the collective unconscious of the people here in Point Pleasant.”
“That’s it!” Dawn cried. “The X-File. It was a Tulpa!”
“You have to be kidding me.” Giles stared at her.
“No, she’s right. It was a Tulpa. I remember Willow getting all excited when she guessed it before Mulder figured it out,” Buffy said. “How do I fight a thought-form?”
“Often times killing the person who made it works, but I don’t suggest we go on a killing spree in rural West Virginia,” Giles said wryly.
“Well, the Tulpa has form now. Grass, things it uses to make itself from the surrounding area. That’s all that is, the stuff I found. Grass, mud, stuff from inside the earth,” Dawn said. “You can probably take it apart...set it on fire or something.”
Buffy ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it. “If I knew where to find it.”
“I think we can help with that,” Spike said, coming through the adjoining door. Angel and Connor were right behind him. “That bar, the one that made you nervous, Dawn, there’s something odd there.”
“The smell of grass and sulfur,” Angel added. “We couldn’t find the demon though but it’s been there.”
“Not a demon, a Tulpa,” Buffy corrected.
“Ah, that makes sense.” Angel nodded.
“A what?” Spike asked.
“Tibetan thought form,” Buffy replied.
“Oh, that Oriental stuff turned Darla and Peaches on, not me.” Spike flopped down in a chair. “So, you have any fight tips, Captain Forehead? This is your arena.”
Angel glared as Connor snickered. “It’s not really alive so it’s hard to ‘kill.’ It depends on what it’s made from. In this case, I’m guessing...someone’s yard?”
“More or less,” Giles said. “The bar would be a place to start tonight then. For now, our best bet is to see what we can turn up about Tulpas.”
Dawn grimaced at the thought of another day spent researching. Sometimes being a Watcher was a real grind.
X X X
“Do we think it’s still inside?” Dawn asked, looking at the bar. She carried a cross bow under her jacket. What she really wanted was a mini-blow torch. If this thing really was made of grass, that would probably be more helpful.
“It’s a good a place as any to start,” Buffy said then jumped up to the rickety balcony. Spike and Angel followed her. There was no access from inside the bar since the balcony was unsafe.
Dawn paced the sidewalk, hating that she was the only non-superpowered being. What good was being the Key if she couldn’t do anything? Maybe it was time to see if she could learn to cast spells. Tara and Willow had started teaching her, after all. She didn’t like being the only one who had to sit it out and wait. Now she knew exactly what Giles felt like all those years, prepping soldiers for the war and yet feeling like you can’t contribute anything to the real fight, except on rare occasion.
Dawn shouldered the cross bow, hearing noises from inside the bar. She prayed a cop wouldn’t happen by and she’d have to explain what in the hell she was doing. Buffy appeared in Dawn’s line of sight, clinging to the lintel of the French doors to the balcony. She kicked something out onto the balcony. It looked like the shambling grass-things from the original Lost in Space tv show, somehow pathetic and non-threatening. Dawn knew it was anything but. It had killed, after all. Who knew how or why? The best Giles could come up with is once the collective fears had created the thing it was without direction and it started acting out the nightmares that created it.
The thing did a half pike dive off the balcony. Buffy jumped off after it. Spike, Connor and Angel followed, just a few steps behind. Dawn took a step forward then stopped. She was superfluous. Two vampires and a Slayer, what did they need with her in a fight? Given how quickly they turned the Tulpa into so much mulch, Dawn figured the answer was she wasn’t really needed tonight.
She got stuck with helping to haul the mulch to the water front. They lit it on fire then pushed it into the river. As quickly as flame, they were done with what they had come to West Virginia for.
“So now what?” Spike asked as they trudged across the street to the hotel.
“Nothing, I guess. We’re done. Giles probably has some ideas where we need to head to next,” Buffy said, climbing up the old, warped steps of the Lowe.
As they stair climbed, Dawn worried that Buffy would take this opportunity to assign her half a world away from Spike. Well she wasn’t about to let it happen. When they got back to the rooms, Giles echoed Buffy’s sentiments. It was time to head back ‘home’ and find out from Xander and the others where they might be best served to go next.
“The night’s too young to stay cooped up in here,” Angel said, looking at the hotel room with dread.
Buffy linked arms with Angel. “I was just thinking that. Surely there something to do around here even if it is the final showing of The Mothman Prophecies. Keep an eye on my sister, Giles.” Buffy sailed out the door with Angel in tow.
“Keep an eye on me?” Dawn pouted rapping her fists against her thighs. “What am I, twelve?”
“Buffy’s a bit of a control freak,” Spike said, lounging against the door frame.
Giles stood up and went for the phone as if wanting to distance himself from any fighting. “I’ll let Maria know it’s over.” Giles placed his call, his face softening as he listened to the psychic on the other end after he told her the news. “You want me to meet you at Bill’s Place? Yes, that sounds lovely. I’ll be there shortly.” Giles turned and looked at Dawn. “You can keep an eye on yourself, Dawn.” He smiled with a subtle wink then walked out past Spike.
“So Rupert did the right thing,” Spike said with a smirk.
“Giles is okay,” Dawn said. “So, are we going out now, too?”
Spike came over and caressed her cheek. “I was thinking we could stay in...you have a private room.”
Dawn put her arms around him. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do more.” Finally, a historic hotel, pretty surroundings, and a handsome, witty, if bratty man to spend her night with. Isn’t that what every girl wanted? She was confident she could handle Buffy later. For now, she was content to just be happy.
Challenge requirements
Name or LJ name: biggrstaffbunch
Email: ruchgupt@eden.rutgers.edu
Pairing and/or character requested: Buffy/Angel, Buffy/Spike, Dawn/anyone, although Giles, Xander, and Spike are my top three. Xander/Cordy, or Xander/Willow, if someone's feelings nostalgic.
Up to three things you would like included in your story: Nostalgia, maybe some angst, and a hot kiss/smut, depending on rating.
Up to three things you would not like in the story: No apocalypse, no group discord, no easy happy endings...make 'em work for it.
Rating preference: PG-13 to NC-17, with the latter preferred.
Author’s Note #2 - I tried for the erotica but the way the story spun, it felt tacked on and out of place (and my beta agreed) and then part of the story got munched, so I’m sorry if it’s not quite as sexy as you might have hoped for.
Disclaimer - they belong to Joss Whedon not me
Rating - PG-13
Pairing - Spike/Dawn, implied Buffy/Angel
Time line Post series (AR, no comics canon)
Summary - The team gets called to rural West Virginia to investigate a bizarre string of deaths
Author’s Note 1 - Thanks to
evil_little_dog for the beta. This was written for the Happy Endings ficathon. Challenge parameters are at the end.
Author’s Note 2 - I’m not exactly sure when I wrote this as it seems to be published at none of my usual spots. However, judging by the subject matter, I’m going to say it was around 2006-2008. The Mothman Festival is a real thing but it no longer uses the amphitheater for the talks described here and the Bennigan’s is long gone. But in the time frame I just mentioned this is how the festival was and yes I’ve retconned this a tiny bit. Also it’s AR, ignoring the comic canon because at the time I hadn’t read them (and still haven’t as far as the Buffy comics are concerned).
XXX
Chapter One
“This is just nuts,” Buffy scowled, looking at the tightly-packed, festival vendor stands that crowded the street just across from their hotel; the Historic Lowe Hotel.
“Oh, come on, Buffy. You just know Andrew and Xander are eating their hearts out. They’d love this assignment.” Dawn gestured at the silvery statue across the street of a muscular man with an insectoid head and ‘lacy’ metal wings. “The Mothman Festival just screams Xander’s name.”
Buffy snorted. “No argument. Where did my Watcher go?”
Dawn pointed toward the river. “Down at the amphitheater. He wanted to hear Rosemary Ellen Guilley speak. Besides, he’s still grumpy that you stuck him in a room with Spike. It’s best to just let him be.”
Buffy grimaced. Ever since Angel and Spike had survived the apocalypse in L.A., they, along with Angel’s kid, had joined in with Buffy and company. They had caught up with the Slayer in England and just started pitching in. It felt like...well, not old times, but it felt good to Dawn. Nostalgia was good sometimes. There was something uplifting after a long day to hear the three-way snark fest between Angel, Spike and Xander, and heaven help them if Connor joined the fray. Poor Angel usually ended up taking refuge wherever he could get some peace.
There had been uncomfortable moments, of course, especially at first with the vampires and Buffy but to Dawn’s surprise Spike had stopped pursuing her sister. He seemed hurt that Buffy hadn’t bothered to contact him when he came back from the dead. When she had come back to life, she had run to Angel. Spike saw her failure to meet him to be a sign that whatever they had was over. Spike spent his energy trying to keep Angel from Buffy but he looked like he was running out of steam for it. Dawn was grateful because that was getting old.
“Buffy, look.” Dawn held up a little, gray, stuffed winged man. “Mothman! I have to get one for Giles and Xander...wait, no just Giles. Xander needs a Mothman T-shirt.”
“He’ll wear it proudly,” Buffy said with a wag of her head. “But I don’t see how this helps at all.”
“We don’t even know why we’re here yet,” Dawn replied. “Besides the reports. It’s not enough to narrow it down. It seems like a lot of strange unrelated accidents. The only thing that links them is the persistent smell of cut grass, dandelion and a hint of sulfur.”
“And what’s up with that?” Buffy ran a hand through her hair. She had shorn it short and couldn’t stop playing with it, unsure if she liked it. Dawn didn’t. Buffy was still too thin, and the short hair made her look more anorexic. However, Dawn knew how much of a detriment long hair could be in a fight.
Dawn rolled her shoulders in response to Buffy’s question. “No clue about the smell. We’re still looking for that in the books. Want me to go to the amphitheater with Giles and listen in to the local mythology?”
Buffy glanced towards the river, and then shook her head. “No, and Angel and Spike have the book and web work covered.”
“Or Angel has the mouse shoved up Spike’s butt at this point or vice versa,” Dawn replied, moving on to the next vendor.
Buffy snorted. “More likely than not. Stay with me. You can be an extra set of eyes at the scene of the last attack.”
“Okay but first, look.” Dawn held up a Mothman mug. “For Giles and the stuffed Mothman can be for Willow.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Dawn!”
“Lighten up,” Dawn shot back and ignored her sister’s puckered face so she could make her purchases. Buffy was too damn serious anymore, and she hated it. Dawn ran the silly stuff back to the hotel, which was just across the street. She ignored the sounds of vampires arguing coming from Giles and Spike’s room next to hers and headed back out to catch up with Buffy. “Okay, ready, where to?”
“The guy who contracted Giles owns a furniture store right there.” Buffy pointed down the block.
“Convenient.”
They walked down the crowded streets, past the old store fronts. Efforts had obviously been made to preserve the nineteenth century facades. Huge balls of flowers were supported by black wrought iron poles in a beautification attempt. It was a community hanging on by its fingernails but it was trying hard to keep itself not only alive but pretty.
The furniture store was catty corner to a bar that had a strange, almost Mediterranean-looking flourish to its crumbling balcony. The windows above the furniture store were boarded up and painted to match the store front. There was something depressing about it for Dawn’s money and the bar across the street creeped her out, though she couldn’t say why.
No one greet them as they came into the store, as if no one particularly cared if a couch got sold that day. They made it all the way to the counter and had to ding the bell before a sales person came out to greet them.
“What can I help you ladies find?” he asked, his bottle brush mustache jiggling.
“We’re looking for Mr. Hutton. He called Mr. Giles about the...” Buffy broke off and glanced around as if she expected someone to show up in the store. “The body in the apartment.”
The man’s ruddy face lit up. “Oh, you must be Ms. Summers then. I’m Mr. Hutton.”
Buffy nodded. “I’m Buffy and this is my sister, Dawn.”
Hutton’s watery blue eyes narrowed. “You’re younger than I expected.”
“We’re good at what we do though,” Dawn offered, cheerily.
Hutton rolled his flabby shoulders. “I felt like I was in an X-File when this all happened. One of the local kooks...uh, I mean psychic mediums suggested I call this Mr. Giles.” Hutton paused for a moment, looking lost in thought as he absently stroked his mustache. “Well, I guess this would be the place for feeling like you’re in an X-File.”
“Because of the Mothman?” Dawn glanced toward the storefront and to the people in costume outside the glass.
“Him, the UFO’s, the curse of Cornstalk.”
“What?” Buffy broke in.
“Indian curse.” Hutton shrugged. “Don’t know much about it. Maria could probably tell you more.”
“The medium?” Dawn asked, thinking that name sounded familiar.
He nodded. “Come on. I’ll show you the apartment. It’s upstairs.”
Dawn made a face behind his back. She and Buffy had lived for a little bit above a store in London and once the thrill of being in the center of things wore off, she found it tedious, noisy and often smelly with the bars and restaurants and all their dumpsters too close by. She wouldn’t want to die in such a place. Then again, Dawn wasn’t sure where she might want to die. Given her lifestyle, it wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on.
“You can get up here from inside the store or the staircase behind the building,” Hutton said as he unlocked the door. “Both doors were locked from the inside until I opened it up to find Tori when her boss called to see why she hadn’t been at work in two days. She was simply dead, didn’t look like she had been attacked or anything. The police seem to be stumped.”
“There was something said about a funny smell,” Buffy prompted, her eyes raking over the sparsely furnished apartment.
Hutton nodded. “It smelled like grass clippings and coal fire to me. You girls aren’t from around here, are you? You’ve probably never smelled a coal-burning stove.” He grinned slightly. “Kind of like bad eggs sometimes. Now, the apartment mostly smells like bleach from me and my wife cleaning up the place, though I don’t know who’ll want to rent it after what happened here. I need to get back down to the store. Just come back down when you’re done.”
Dawn waited until he was gone before saying, “I can’t imagine wanting to rent it in the first place. All the windows overlooking the street are bordered up.”
“Yeah, not of the cheery,” Buffy remarked, starting to poke around.
There was little to see as far as Dawn was concerned. Someone had obviously been here and packed up all of Tori Morehart’s personal belongings, leaving just the furnished portions of the ‘furnished apartment.’ There was a hint of bleach stench in the air but even that was faint now. Too much time had passed. She let Buffy take the living room and bedroom while she investigated the bathroom and kitchen. The door to the backstairs was inside the kitchen.
She went out onto the ‘balcony’ such as it was, a warped little thing that left Dawn with vertigo. She would have hated carrying groceries up those steep steps in the winter, heck at any time. As Dawn turned to go inside, she saw something in the upper corner of the door, stuck in the hinge. It looked like mulch. Dawn pried it free. It really did seem like something that would be found in a compost heap and there was still a faint grassy scent to it. “Hey, Buffy,” she called.
“Find something?” her sister replied hopefully.
“Maybe.”
Buffy popped out of the bedroom, eyes bright. She came over and took a look at what Dawn held. “Looks like something someone scraped off their shoe.”
“And if it had been on the threshold, I’d agree but I found it at the top of the door and it does kinda have the smell everyone’s talking about.” Dawn worked up some enthusiasm for her find. “Think I should take it back to Giles?”
Buffy nodded. “It’s better than nothing.”
And nothing was all they found otherwise. The sisters headed back to the Lowe hotel, disappointed.
Chapter Two
“This place is almost as weird as Sunnydale.” Dawn pouted, having listened to some of Giles’ narrative about the festival talks as the team lounged in his hotel room. Maria, the psychic, had joined them.
“It is lacking a hellmouth,” Giles said, hoisting his evening tea in his new Mothman mug.
“Tell me you have more than that after all day of research. Do you know how boring it was being cooped up with Captain Forehead?” Spike groaned, sprawling on the bed, his eyes trained on the old, remoteless TV.
“I’m sure you made Angel suffer enough to work a few years off his redemption,” Giles replied wryly. Spike grinned proudly and fist bumped Connor, both of them expertly ignoring Angel’s glare. “I found out a lot of interesting things from this area, but maybe Maria would like to tell us about it, being as she’s the native.” Giles waved a hand at the young, slender psychic. Dawn noticed Connor watching Maria intently, unsurprisingly as she had all the things Connor liked, a bit of age, dark hair and big shocker, nice boobs. Dawn hated that she felt a touch insecure about her own endowments.
She smiled, giving her long ash brown hair a tug. “Thanks, Rupert. I think we can safely dismiss both the Mothman himself and Indrid Cold and the UFO’s,”
“Who now?” Buffy interrupted, with her usual mild irritation at not knowing Demonology A-Z.
“I see you didn’t get to spend any time at any of the festival talks,” Maria said, sounding disappointed. “Indrid Cold is the alien that visited this area around the time of the Mothman sightings. No one is sure if they’re related. The Mothman was originally called ‘the bird’ because he was seen as a seven foot tall man like creature with wings and huge red eyes like an owl’s. I have no idea when or why they corrupted it to Mothman but that hardly matters. He did scare people but there were never any reports of real violence.”
“Giles has a soul mate,” Buffy whispered to Dawn who grinned.
“I’d concentrate on the Curse of Cornstalk, if I were you,” Maria went on, giving no signs she heard Buffy.
“Huh?” Buffy asked, looking as if she were wondering if maybe she should have sat in on a lecture or two.
“Keigh-tugh-gua, a Shawnee chieftain in the late seventeen hundreds, we saw a lot about him on the net,” Angel put in.
“The last time we came across Indian curses, Harris came down with syphilis, most hysterical thing I had seen in forever.” Spike laughed and Connor grinned. Xander wasn’t pro-Connor, mostly because he wasn’t pro-Angel, and Connor was the type to take offense.
Dawn slapped Spike across the chest. “That wasn’t funny.”
“Matter of opinion,” he replied, pulling out his cigarettes.
Dawn took them. “No smoking in here.”
Giles glared at Spike through slotted eyes. “Are you finished, Spike?”
“I’m good.” He went back to watching TV.
Maria glanced between them as if to be sure they were done then continued. “Cornstalk was a friend, more or less, to the settlers in the area but eventually they turned on him. They murdered Cornstalk, and he cursed not only the land but all the hopes of those living here forever.”
“Wouldn’t you think if it was a curse that old it would have manifested before this?” Buffy asked, toying with her short hair.
“Not necessarily,” Giles said, sipping his tea.
“And it really has been manifesting all along. This is one of the most haunted areas in the country. We have ghost lights and banshees, not to mention disasters like coal mine fires, deadly jail breaks, floods, air plane crashes, the Silver Bridge collapse. Hell, even Cornstalk’s monument was struck by lightning and destroyed,” Maria said, ticking off the points on her fingers.
“The University of Rio Grande, across the river in Ohio, has a center for Welsh studies, the only one of its kind in the country. Seeing as the Welsh miners called this area the Land of Bones, it might be prudent to examine what they knew and see what records they left behind,” Giles suggested.
“Lovely, I don’t speak Welsh,” Buffy groaned, leaning back in her chair.
“I thought Dawn and I could go tomorrow,” Giles replied. “And we might think about going a little further northeast to Athens, Ohio. It was built by spiritualists in theory.”
“Their five cemeteries are laid out in a pentacle of power centering over Ohio University,” Maria added, and they all seemed impressed with that sort of bizarre town planning. “But that might be all local legend since finding hard proof of that is sketchy at best.”
“Can’t miss that, can you, Slayer?” Spike rolled his eyes.
“Sounds more like a job for you, Connor and Angel,” she zinged back. “In the meantime, we patrol tonight, unless you and Spike have anything to add, Angel.”
Angel shook his head. “We found a lot of websites about the Mothman and the curse but nothing particularly helpful.”
“Other than they’re obviously smoking the good stuff around here,” Spike said, giving his belly an absent scratch.
“That’s also not helpful,” Dawn glared at him.
“Whatever. I’m not cut out for the book work.” Spike rolled to his feet. “Come on, Bit. You’re with me.”
Dawn rather liked the sound of that. She picked up some stakes and a knife that was small enough to be concealed but sharp enough to do real damage. Buffy no longer protested her patrolling, which was good since it was obvious to everyone she was Watcher material. That meant a bit of work-related risk. Moreover, Dawn liked being with Spike. She had forgiven him as best she could for the thing with Buffy. Being willing to die to save the world, both in Sunnydale and again in LA, had a lot to do with her new attitude.
Dawn hated to admit it but she was back to having her crush on him. Maybe it never really went away. That would account for some of the troubles she had with Buffy from time to time, lingering anger over being the sister not Chosen. It might even explain that night in the French Rivera with Danny, a college kid with bleached blond hair and an English accent that she woke up with after one too many glasses of wine and a lot of regrets.
“There really isn’t much to do around here,” Spike said as they headed down the narrow, old streets.
“Some people like it that way.”
“Not me.” Spike shook his head. “Rural is rarely a vampire’s friend.”
“I guess that would mean less meals and higher risk of being found out,” Dawn said.
He nodded, “Something like that. For me, I’d die of boredom...or maybe just hope to catch a random stake.”
“It’s not that bad...of course, there are no malls around here for miles.” Dawn’s nose wrinkled up. “You might have a point.”
Spike laughed and took the lead. A few hours later Dawn was convinced Spike might be right. It was possible to die of boredom. Not that she really wanted to see monsters but there was absolutely nothing happening at all. It was a roll up the sidewalk kind of place. Outside of the few bars, there was little activity of any kind.
Eventually Dawn found herself sitting on the cement amphitheater steps, looking out over the dark ribbon of the river below. It was peaceful here, and she found she didn’t mind that much. Spike sat next to her, smoking quietly. She could almost feel him getting ready to speak. Spike was never one for sitting quietly. “Ever wonder what it would be like growing up here?” she asked. “I mean you grew up in a big city. And I....didn’t grow up at all.”
He put an arm around her loosely. “I guess I’d probably have been different if I had grown up in the middle of nowhere. Maybe I never would have died...” An indescribable look flashed over his face. “But look at what I would have missed out on.”
“Sometimes I think maybe having a nice normal life would be so good but I would have to forget everything about the real world. I used to daydream about that.” Dawn swept her hair back. “Then after talking to Connor, I realize it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“You should stay away from that walking hard-on.” Spike wagged his cigarette at her.
“Spike, honestly! You sound like Buffy...only she didn’t put it quite so bluntly.” Dawn wondered if the darkness hid her blush. She really hadn’t thought that way about Connor but everyone, except the boy in question, thought she had.
“Not like Buffy at all. She didn’t want the scrawny brat around because she wants to preserve your honor. Me, I don’t want him around because then I might have to fight him to do this.” Spike leaned in unexpectantly and kissed her lightly.
Dawn’s spine stiffened in shock. Spike sent his cigarette away in a glittering arc then slipped his hand behind her head, pulling her in for a deeper kiss. His kiss was bitter like tobacco, cool but enticing. His tongue flicked over the roof of her mouth, tickling her, before descending to wrestle with her tongue. His teeth clicked over hers as she wrapped her arms around him. His shoulders might be slender but there was nothing but muscle under her hands.
“Nice,” he whispered when their lips parted.
Dawn didn’t give him time for more words, pressing her lips back against his as she slid into his lap. The next several minutes were lost in the explorations undertaken by lips, hands and tongues. She loved the way his tongue moved in her mouth, the pull of his lips seeming to draw from deep wells within her. Cool to the touch perhaps but so hot at the same time. Her body felt on fire, warm and wet down below, flushed and swollen all over. She wanted to feel his lips elsewhere. Dawn was content to never move from this spot and wouldn’t have if her cell phone hadn’t chosen that moment to ring. Reluctantly, she slid it out of her pocket. “It’s Buffy.”
Spike sat back and took out his cigarettes. “Answer her or she’ll come looking for you. She’s more likely to stake first ask questions later, no matter who it is sniffing around her kid sister.”
“Yeah, Buffy?” Dawn said into her phone knowing full well Spike was right. “Nothing here either...Giles wants to leave how early? Is he nuts? Fine, I’ll come back to the hotel now.” Dawn slipped the phone into her pocket. “Giles wants me with him tomorrow at the crack of dawn, no pun intended.”
Spike gave her a disappointed look. “Probably easier to just not argue. Come on, I’ll walk you back.”
Dawn’s lips fell. “I don’t really want to go.”
He smirked. “I know.” Spike wrapped an arm around her and walked her back to the hotel. They had to pass the creepy balconied bar again. Dawn shivered. “What is it, Bit?”
“I don’t like that bar. I don’t know why but I just don’t.” She glared over her shoulder at the place.
“I’ll look into it for you,” Spike said.
“You’re not staying at the hotel?” Dawn blurted out then grimaced, hating to sound so needy. Of course he wasn’t going to stay. He was a vampire. The night was still young for him.
“Been cooped up in there all day. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dawnie.” Spike stroked her hair then closed in for a final kiss.
It was over too fast and then he was gone back down the street. Dawn went inside to the creaky metal-framed bed and flopped down both exhilarated by the night’s turn of events and disappointed in having to end it so soon. Sleep proved to be elusive, and she chased after it all night.
Chapter Three
Dawn rubbed her dry eyes. She had spent the whole day with Giles at the little university in Ohio, pouring over boring Welsh writings that told them next to nothing. They made the run to Athens, as well, with nothing to show for it. When they got back to the Lowe Hotel, Spike and Angel looked just as bored and disappointed as she felt. Buffy was out somewhere in Point Pleasant with Connor in tow and was supposed to meet them at the Red Parrot Café which was owned by the hotel. Dawn was hoping for good food. The only thing the University of Rio Grande had going for it was the Bob Evans restaurant across the street - right on the actual Bob Evans farm which was not as cool as it might sound. Dawn wasn’t a fan of ‘good old American’ cooking. She had gotten the sense that Giles was disappointed Maria hadn’t gone with them but all the freaks and geeks at the festival would go a long way to lining Maria’s psychic pockets. She couldn’t afford to close her shop to go with Giles and her.
Buffy and Connor, as it turned out, were waiting for them inside the Red Parrot. They all ordered then sat staring at each other for a few long moments as if to say ‘someone go first.’ Finally Buffy asked, “Anything exciting happen?”
“Not unless you count Spike stealing our room key so he could play in the Jacuzzi,” Angel replied.
Spike rolled his eyes. “You and the Slayer get a Jacuzzi room while me and Rupert are stuck on rickety twin beds from hell in that suite. I guess I shouldn’t complain, at least we have two TV’s.”
“Luckily I have my own room.” Connor smirked.
Dawn’s mind was flooded with images of Spike naked in a hot tub. They were very good images.
“So, that’s a no to anything exciting.” Buffy blew at a strand of her hair. “Same goes for me. All we saw were a bunch of UFO geeks at the festival. We should have just sent Xander and Andrew and been done with it.”
“Unfortunately, we did not learn very much from the University or from Athens,” Giles said.
“It was a big waste of time. It’s like these people just expect weird things to happen around here and they do,” Dawn scowled, rubbing her forehead. “Welsh gives me a headache.”
“It is one of the most difficult languages in the world,” Giles said, placatingly.
“What about that bar last night, Spike? Was there anything weird about it or am I just letting myself get creeped out by the ambience?” Dawn asked.
He shrugged. “I didn’t see anything but small town drunks but...there is an odd feel to it. Maybe it’s not all imaginary. I was planning on going back tonight.”
“Guess it’s something.” Buffy glanced over at Giles. “What do we think about that piece of yuck Dawn found in the last victim’s apartment?”
“I’m not sure. It seems like it is nothing more than yard clippings but there is something odd about what’s holding it together. Neither Maria nor I know what to make of it,” Giles responded.
Dawn lost interest in the conversation after that. No one had much interesting to say about the case and her mind was too occupied with thoughts of Spike. She wished she could have stayed at the hotel and helped him with the research but a fat lot of good it would have done with Angel there. It’s not like he would have left the blond vampire alone with her. She had no idea what she’d do about her extended family when it came to the vampire. Dawn hadn’t forgotten how Xander and the others had viewed Buffy and Spike. She could only imagine it would be uglier if she told them she wanted to date Spike.
Date Spike? Did one actually date him? Probably not in the tradition sense, she decided. Either you were with him or you weren’t. She knew which one she preferred. Oh yes, she wanted very much to be with him and to hell with any protests. Her life, her choices, she’d do what she wanted. Dawn didn’t filter back into the conversation until Buffy announced it was patrol time and Spike was claiming Dawn again as his partner. She wondered just how much patrolling would actually get done.
For a while, however, neither of them spoke much, just wandering the streets. Dawn knew why. They needed to put a little distance between them and Buffy, not to mention their work should come first. People were dying after all. But this night was just like the one before, dead quiet, boring.
“Spike, about last night,” she said finally, not sure where she was going with this but she needed to say something.
His blue eyes fastened on her. “Having second thoughts, Bit?”
“Only about that nickname.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “And...okay, I have put a lot of thought into us today...more interesting than dusty old books in Welsh. I’m not sure what to make of it, our history, yours with Buffy, how human we’re not but I know you care about me and have since before Glory. That counts for something. More importantly, I like how I feel when I’m with you.”
Spike smiled almost shyly. That’s what she liked about him most, when he dropped the brash armor and allowed what was left of the sensitive man he had been shine through. “Glad to hear it, Dawn. I was half afraid I made a bloody fool of myself over a woman.”
Dawn practically glowed at being called a woman. “Wouldn’t be the first time, I bet.”
He snorted. “Hardly.” He captured her in a kiss.
She gave in to for a few moments then pushed away. “We’re in the Bennigan’s parking lot.”
“So? Who cares?”
“We should be patrolling,” she said, hating herself for it. Kissing him was far more interesting than patrolling but what if someone died on her watch?
“You think this isn’t how the Poof and your sister patrol?” Spike said, laughing, his lips moving over hers.
She grabbed his hand and started pulling him out of the parking lot. “Don’t want the world watching.”
“What world? This is the most boring town ever,” Spike protested but followed her into the alleyway.
Dawn found herself pressed against the brick of the buildings and somehow didn’t mind. It felt good having Spike against her. Maybe she should have minded, demanded someplace more romantic than a grungy alleyway. Well, it wasn’t like she planned on doing more than kissing here and if Spike had more in mind, he’d be terribly disappointed.
“Dawn, Spike! There you....” Buffy’s voice died out.
All Dawn could see was her sister backlit at the mouth of the alley. Spike had sprung away from Dawn the moment Buffy spoke. Dawn ran a hand through her hair. She was not about to let her big sister bully her. “Why are you looking for us? You could have called.”
“Giles called me. There’s been a killing at the amphitheater. It’s in your territory. I figured just to round you up on the way,” Buffy said as Dawn and Spike walked toward the mouth of the alley. “What did you think you were doing?” That growl was directed at Spike, not Dawn.
“Leave it, Buffy. We have a dead body to worry about. You can have your snit later,” Dawn said, brushing past her and Angel. She stalked toward the amphitheater, not waiting for her sister. Dawn heard Angel telling Spike he should have more sense. Yeah, they should have realized Buffy and Angel would have something to say. Well, she had realized it but she hadn’t cared.
Giles, Connor and Maria were waiting for them on the cement steps overlooking the river and oddly no police yet. Dawn wondered why not then realized Giles must not have called them yet. She was just grateful that Buffy had done as she asked and let it go for now. Maybe with the new business at hand, Buffy wouldn’t be so angry later.
“We won’t have much time. Maria got a vision of this.” Giles waved a hand at the dead young man on the steps. He was dressed as a Man in Black for the festival. “We’ll need to call the police but I thought if we had a look at the scene beforehand we might learn something.”
“Maria, did you see what did this or just the victim?” Angel asked.
“Just the victim, lying right where you see him now,” she replied, regretfully.
“I smell the grass and sulfur,” Buffy said, sniffing the breeze off the river.
Angel nodded. “It’s strong and I have no idea what kind of demon would make that scent.”
“Me neither,” Spike added, reaching for his cigarettes.
“Guys, here. More of that matted up grass stuff,” Dawn said, pointing to a blob of it two steps down from dead young man. “It kinda smells like river.”
Giles came over to where Dawn was pointing and collected the material. “This must mean something. Does anyone know of a demon that sheds...grass clippings?”
“No,” Angel replied, his brow knitting in concentration, and Connor shook his head.
“That has to be a really weird blighter,” Spike said.
“On that one X-File but other than that, no.” Dawn shrugged.
“X-Files?” Buffy shot her the ‘Xander, if you don’t have something useful to say...’ look.
“You know the one where Mulder and Scully were pretending to be married living in that community that told you what kind of paint you had to use on your mailbox and what sort of curtains to hang. It was made out of grass and trash...what the heck was that thing called,” Dawn bullied on even though she knew it was stupid. “Guess I’m not quite the geek Xander is.”
“We’re grateful, Bit,” Spike said, patting her shoulder.
“Maria, did you even get the sense of where this thing came from or where it went?” Buffy said, turning her back on Dawn and her X-File thoughts.
“No, I’m sorry. You all should clear out. I’ll call the cops. I’m the local. They won’t think anything of me taking a walk by the river,” Maria suggested.
“I doubt we’ll find anything else. It’ll give Giles some time to look at that yuck Dawn found.” Buffy glanced over at her sister. “Good work, Dawn.”
“Thanks,” Dawn said, grateful that at least Buffy was still speaking to her.
“I’ll need your help back at the hotel with this substance, Dawn,” Giles said and Dawn reluctantly followed him back to the Lowe.
X X X
“I’m not saying it again, Buffy, it’s my life and I’ll do what I want,” Dawn snarled, crossing her arms over her chest. She was sure that was the hundredth time she had said that since coming back to the hotel. She was starting to wish she had followed Connor’s example and not have returned to the hotel at all. He was somewhere roaming free from the arguing, lucky brat.
“You’re just a kid.”
“No, you just insist on treating me like one.”
“Enough of this,” Giles snapped, looking up from where he was teasing apart the grassy stuff Dawn found. “I cannot think like this and if you don’t be quiet either the hotel management will come to put us out or the police will. Buffy, you are obviously not going to change Dawn’s mind about this, and she’s past the age where you can do anything about it.”
Buffy whirled on her Watcher. “So, I just let it go?”
Giles slapped a hand on the table. “Yes.”
“How can you say that?”
“Apparently, it’s my nature to look the other way. You were younger than Dawn when I started looking the other way when you were seeing Angel. I didn’t say much when you were with Spike.” Giles’ lips thinned. “All right, I laughed a lot but other than that...these aren’t your choices to make. They’re Dawn’s.”
“Thanks, Giles.” Dawn smiled at him.
“Cause trouble wherever you are, that never changes,” Angel sniped at Spike.
“I don’t expect you to get it, Angel but I expected more out of you, Slayer. Or did you forget you weren’t the only one who climbed that tower, willing to die for Dawnie?” Spike said, his eyes suddenly sad. He turned on heel. “I’m going back to that bar and see if I can scare anything up.”
“I’ll go with you,” Angel said, probably just as glad to get out of hotel room that he had spent far too many hours in all day.
Buffy looked rather abashed as she watched Spike leave.
“I couldn’t have said it better,” Dawn said then sat next to Giles, “So, any idea what we have here?” She pointed to the matted junk.
“Not a ruddy clue.”
“Well, we need to get one fast, Giles. This thing is killing faster now.” Buffy sat on the bed. “What can Dawn and I do to help?”
Chapter Four
“I think I have it,” Giles said, poking his head into Dawn’s room.
She glanced out of the tiny bathroom with its ancient plumbing, toothbrush still in her mouth. Buffy looked up from where she sat on the bed, calmly telling Dawn why dating Spike was a bad idea. “Yeah?” Dawn asked around the brush head.
“Your comment yesterday, Dawn, got me thinking,” Giles said.
“The X-File thing?” Buffy asked incredulously as Dawn went back into the bathroom to spit and rinse
“No, the belief of the locals that this area truly is cursed. They believe so it becomes truth and it’s used to explain all the strange natural disasters,” Giles said.
“How does this help us?” Dawn asked, coming back into the room.
“Thought-forms. In Tibetan mysticism, it’s possible to create these thought-forms, to give them a physical form and often they get away from their creators,” Giles said. “Tulpas, I think we’re dealing with a Tulpa that has been made from the collective unconscious of the people here in Point Pleasant.”
“That’s it!” Dawn cried. “The X-File. It was a Tulpa!”
“You have to be kidding me.” Giles stared at her.
“No, she’s right. It was a Tulpa. I remember Willow getting all excited when she guessed it before Mulder figured it out,” Buffy said. “How do I fight a thought-form?”
“Often times killing the person who made it works, but I don’t suggest we go on a killing spree in rural West Virginia,” Giles said wryly.
“Well, the Tulpa has form now. Grass, things it uses to make itself from the surrounding area. That’s all that is, the stuff I found. Grass, mud, stuff from inside the earth,” Dawn said. “You can probably take it apart...set it on fire or something.”
Buffy ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it. “If I knew where to find it.”
“I think we can help with that,” Spike said, coming through the adjoining door. Angel and Connor were right behind him. “That bar, the one that made you nervous, Dawn, there’s something odd there.”
“The smell of grass and sulfur,” Angel added. “We couldn’t find the demon though but it’s been there.”
“Not a demon, a Tulpa,” Buffy corrected.
“Ah, that makes sense.” Angel nodded.
“A what?” Spike asked.
“Tibetan thought form,” Buffy replied.
“Oh, that Oriental stuff turned Darla and Peaches on, not me.” Spike flopped down in a chair. “So, you have any fight tips, Captain Forehead? This is your arena.”
Angel glared as Connor snickered. “It’s not really alive so it’s hard to ‘kill.’ It depends on what it’s made from. In this case, I’m guessing...someone’s yard?”
“More or less,” Giles said. “The bar would be a place to start tonight then. For now, our best bet is to see what we can turn up about Tulpas.”
Dawn grimaced at the thought of another day spent researching. Sometimes being a Watcher was a real grind.
X X X
“Do we think it’s still inside?” Dawn asked, looking at the bar. She carried a cross bow under her jacket. What she really wanted was a mini-blow torch. If this thing really was made of grass, that would probably be more helpful.
“It’s a good a place as any to start,” Buffy said then jumped up to the rickety balcony. Spike and Angel followed her. There was no access from inside the bar since the balcony was unsafe.
Dawn paced the sidewalk, hating that she was the only non-superpowered being. What good was being the Key if she couldn’t do anything? Maybe it was time to see if she could learn to cast spells. Tara and Willow had started teaching her, after all. She didn’t like being the only one who had to sit it out and wait. Now she knew exactly what Giles felt like all those years, prepping soldiers for the war and yet feeling like you can’t contribute anything to the real fight, except on rare occasion.
Dawn shouldered the cross bow, hearing noises from inside the bar. She prayed a cop wouldn’t happen by and she’d have to explain what in the hell she was doing. Buffy appeared in Dawn’s line of sight, clinging to the lintel of the French doors to the balcony. She kicked something out onto the balcony. It looked like the shambling grass-things from the original Lost in Space tv show, somehow pathetic and non-threatening. Dawn knew it was anything but. It had killed, after all. Who knew how or why? The best Giles could come up with is once the collective fears had created the thing it was without direction and it started acting out the nightmares that created it.
The thing did a half pike dive off the balcony. Buffy jumped off after it. Spike, Connor and Angel followed, just a few steps behind. Dawn took a step forward then stopped. She was superfluous. Two vampires and a Slayer, what did they need with her in a fight? Given how quickly they turned the Tulpa into so much mulch, Dawn figured the answer was she wasn’t really needed tonight.
She got stuck with helping to haul the mulch to the water front. They lit it on fire then pushed it into the river. As quickly as flame, they were done with what they had come to West Virginia for.
“So now what?” Spike asked as they trudged across the street to the hotel.
“Nothing, I guess. We’re done. Giles probably has some ideas where we need to head to next,” Buffy said, climbing up the old, warped steps of the Lowe.
As they stair climbed, Dawn worried that Buffy would take this opportunity to assign her half a world away from Spike. Well she wasn’t about to let it happen. When they got back to the rooms, Giles echoed Buffy’s sentiments. It was time to head back ‘home’ and find out from Xander and the others where they might be best served to go next.
“The night’s too young to stay cooped up in here,” Angel said, looking at the hotel room with dread.
Buffy linked arms with Angel. “I was just thinking that. Surely there something to do around here even if it is the final showing of The Mothman Prophecies. Keep an eye on my sister, Giles.” Buffy sailed out the door with Angel in tow.
“Keep an eye on me?” Dawn pouted rapping her fists against her thighs. “What am I, twelve?”
“Buffy’s a bit of a control freak,” Spike said, lounging against the door frame.
Giles stood up and went for the phone as if wanting to distance himself from any fighting. “I’ll let Maria know it’s over.” Giles placed his call, his face softening as he listened to the psychic on the other end after he told her the news. “You want me to meet you at Bill’s Place? Yes, that sounds lovely. I’ll be there shortly.” Giles turned and looked at Dawn. “You can keep an eye on yourself, Dawn.” He smiled with a subtle wink then walked out past Spike.
“So Rupert did the right thing,” Spike said with a smirk.
“Giles is okay,” Dawn said. “So, are we going out now, too?”
Spike came over and caressed her cheek. “I was thinking we could stay in...you have a private room.”
Dawn put her arms around him. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do more.” Finally, a historic hotel, pretty surroundings, and a handsome, witty, if bratty man to spend her night with. Isn’t that what every girl wanted? She was confident she could handle Buffy later. For now, she was content to just be happy.
Challenge requirements
Name or LJ name: biggrstaffbunch
Email: ruchgupt@eden.rutgers.edu
Pairing and/or character requested: Buffy/Angel, Buffy/Spike, Dawn/anyone, although Giles, Xander, and Spike are my top three. Xander/Cordy, or Xander/Willow, if someone's feelings nostalgic.
Up to three things you would like included in your story: Nostalgia, maybe some angst, and a hot kiss/smut, depending on rating.
Up to three things you would not like in the story: No apocalypse, no group discord, no easy happy endings...make 'em work for it.
Rating preference: PG-13 to NC-17, with the latter preferred.
Author’s Note #2 - I tried for the erotica but the way the story spun, it felt tacked on and out of place (and my beta agreed) and then part of the story got munched, so I’m sorry if it’s not quite as sexy as you might have hoped for.