Fic: "Dreamchain" (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, PG) - Part 2 of 7
“This is nice,” Xander said cheerfully. “Another How Can We Avert the Apocalypse all-nighter at Giles’ place. Someday, when I’m sitting around McDonald’s with my senior citizen’s coffee and complaining about the government with guys in John Deere caps, I’m gonna look back on these little gatherings with fondness.”
“You’re planning on qualifying for senior citizens’ coffee someday,” Willow said, looking up from her laptop. “Good attitude. That’s the first step toward a successfully averted Apocalypse.”
Giles sighed and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes with frustration. “The second step, though… actually finding out how to avert it… is a different matter. Perhaps if I had easy access to the Vatican Library…”
Buffy put down the book she’d been absently leafing through… a 1572 survey of standing stones along the northern coast of Brittany. “Well, we know what we’re up against, don’t we? St. Vigeous Fire. We can name it. And if you can name something, you can hit it. Right? Can I get a right?”
“I’m afraid hitting it would be the worst thing you could do,” Giles said glumly. “St. Vigeous Fire spreads by touch.”
“So… it’s like Vampire Flu,” Xander observed.
“Essentially,” Giles agreed. “During an outbreak of the Fire, vampires acquire the ability to spread their condition by simple touch. The usual cumbersome method of creating new undead is set aside. Simplified. The infected then spread the disease to others through touch, and so on. By this means, vampirism can spread throughout an entire community in a single night, like fire… hence the name.”
“Creating a Night of the Living Dead scenario,” Willow put in.
“Geek points for the perky redhead,” Xander said with admiration.
“It was low-hanging fruit. Tara likes that movie, believe it or not. She thinks it was originally filmed as a documentary, but the government jumped in and told everybody it was just a story.”
Giles gamely cracked open another musty book. “The biggest challenge is the fact that the vampires created by the Fire are essentially mindless. They don’t realize they’ve become vampires, and they do nothing to avoid the things that would destroy them. It makes them fairly easy to kill - if one can get past the horror of staking one’s friends and family members through the heart and watching them turn to dust. The vampires don’t even know to avoid direct sunlight. Most outbreaks of the Fire last only a single night… until sunrise comes and eliminates the problem.”
“That must make for a dusty morning,” Buffy remarked.
“And a tragic one,” Giles added. “We have testimonials from people who lost every single person they knew the moment the sun crested the horizon. It’s said the Tiberius Manifesto contained a spell that could reverse the disease and save its victims, if it could be cast before sunrise. But that book has been lost for centuries. I’ve no idea how we could save the infected without it.”
“So when and where is this blessed event due to hit?” Xander asked. “Do we have a ticking clock? Increasing dramatic tension until it seems all is lost, and then we pull another save out of nowhere?”
“I wish I knew,” Giles said. “Buffy had the dream last night. I’d think we should be prepared for something in the near future.”
“Speaking of ticking clocks,” Buffy said, “I have to get home. Dawn had tap class tonight, so we’re eating dinner late.”
“Dawnie is taking tap lessons?” Willow smiled. “Aww, that’s adorable. Does she have a little top hat and cane?”
“And two left feet. She’s the most enthusiastic spaz ever to put on a leotard.”
“You should be more supportive of her, Buffy…”
“I am supportive. I didn’t strangle her when she stole my blue spangled minidress to make a Roxie Hart costume with.”
“Oooh, did the dress survive?” Xander inquired urgently. “Please tell me that dress survived.”
They opened the door of Giles’ apartment to reveal a pleasantly mild, twilit late summer evening. Crickets chirped in the shrubs nearby.
“Lots of sirens out tonight,” Willow remarked, listening to the steady wail that seemed to be coming from all directions and all distances at once. “Even by Sunnydale standards.”
“Uncle Rory must have violated probation again,” Xander sighed. “Guess I’d better get home and gather with the family round the TV to watch the news. Maybe he’ll wave at us.”
Giles came up behind them. “Buffy,” he said. “Your mother just rang me. She’s concerned that Dawn hasn’t come home from her dance class yet. I told her I’d drive you over near the studio to see if we could find her.”
“Hey,” Xander said, “If lifts are being given, I could use a piece of that action. It’s only, what, five or six blocks out of your way?”
“And this laptop is heavy,” Willow said, making a big show of trying to lift it. “Oooof. See?”
Giles sighed. “God forbid you young people should insult your muscles with any form of physical exertion. Very well, get in. And no eating in the car, on pain of my being very stern with you.”
“No food,” Buffy agreed, “but if Dawn is wearing my spangled minidress again, there may be bloodstain issues to deal with.”
“Oh, so the dress did survive!” Xander said, brightly.
* * * * *
So there I stood with Cho, at the top of Mount Lee up above the HOLLYWOODLAND sign, waiting for a Very Important Demon.
“I hate making deals with demons,” I told her for what must have been the fifth time. “It’s so much more satisfying to, you know, cut their heads off and then take what you need. The old Marie Antoinette Haircut.” And I made a cutting motion across my throat, in case Cho didn’t know who Marie Antoinette was.
“Niemand is bald and has no hair to cut,” Cho replied, missing the reference completely. “And he has something we need. He is a very powerful demon, the leader of the Brotherhood of Seven. Mr. Hardy says that they have killed a dozen Slayers over the centuries. We must beware of them. It gives me no pleasure to deal with him in a less than violent way, but we must do what is necessary to save lives.”
“He’s got a flair for the dramatic, telling us to meet him here. Or the pretentious,” I said, looking down at the top of the sign. “You know, a girl killed herself last year here. Climbed up to the top of the ‘H’ and jumped off.”
“She did not jump,” said a raspy voice from a few feet away where nobody had been a few seconds ago. “She fell. Having one’s brain removed will cause such mishaps. This is a favorite spot of mine for such… transactions. I find it inspiringly grandiose.”
“Pretentious it is, then,” I said irritably. “Were you hoping to scare me with your big bad demon talk, pal? Maybe we should cut to the chase and just whip out our dicks? I brought a ruler.”
Niemand was obviously just going through the motions of trying to look human. He looked like exactly what he was… a demon wearing a human suit, and not really caring if anyone bought it or not. Lugosi could have taken a few pointers from him.
Nice suit, though.
He glanced at me like I was a mildly interesting specimen under a bell jar, then turned to Cho.
“You have the funds you promised?”
Cho reached into the cloth bag hanging on her belt and pulled out a roll of hundred-dollar bills. Enough Ben Franklins to make a merry Christmas in May for every poor sap standing in every soup line in the city down below. The Watchers’ Council had deep pockets.
“And you have the book?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said. “I never lie to mortals. It’s so demeaning.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small book bound in old-looking brown leather.
Cho handed Niemand the roll of hundreds with her left hand, and took the book from him with her right. Was it really gonna be this easy?
I should never ask myself that.
As soon as Cho took the book, the air around us shimmered like a highway on a hot summer day. Then the shimmer turned big, and solid, and hungry. Lots of demons. And unlike Niemand, not worrying even a little bit about looking human.
“Making deals with mortals is demeaning as well,” Niemand said mildly. “But lest you question my honor, this was none of my doing. You’ve simply triggered a spell laid on the book by Vigeous himself, after he relieved Tiberius Magnus of the manuscript, and of his hold on life. This is the original volume, of course, not a copy. Only the best for the Slayer. Ah, well. I’ll be back to collect it when this is finished.”
Niemand put his hands in his pockets, and turned and strolled away. The bastard would have lit up a pipe if he’d had one.
“Not unexpected,” Cho muttered. “I count ten of them. Probably confused and off balance at their sudden summoning after many centuries. Perhaps the poison in this modern air will slow them.”
“They’re from hell, sweetheart. I don’t think the bad air is gonna faze them much.”
Cho ripped at the belt of her Barbara Stanwyck dress, and the skirt came right off to reveal a pair of beautiful bare, brown legs, all ready to kick hell out of our new visitors.
“Whoa,” I said. “Let me do that next time. That’s man’s work.”
“Crack wise later,” she said. “Let’s take care of these mugs first.”
I whistled. “Beautiful, strong, and watches gangster movies. I think I am in love.”
And then the demons were on us, and there was no more time for daydreaming or sightseeing.
Continued in Part 3...
“You’re planning on qualifying for senior citizens’ coffee someday,” Willow said, looking up from her laptop. “Good attitude. That’s the first step toward a successfully averted Apocalypse.”
Giles sighed and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes with frustration. “The second step, though… actually finding out how to avert it… is a different matter. Perhaps if I had easy access to the Vatican Library…”
Buffy put down the book she’d been absently leafing through… a 1572 survey of standing stones along the northern coast of Brittany. “Well, we know what we’re up against, don’t we? St. Vigeous Fire. We can name it. And if you can name something, you can hit it. Right? Can I get a right?”
“I’m afraid hitting it would be the worst thing you could do,” Giles said glumly. “St. Vigeous Fire spreads by touch.”
“So… it’s like Vampire Flu,” Xander observed.
“Essentially,” Giles agreed. “During an outbreak of the Fire, vampires acquire the ability to spread their condition by simple touch. The usual cumbersome method of creating new undead is set aside. Simplified. The infected then spread the disease to others through touch, and so on. By this means, vampirism can spread throughout an entire community in a single night, like fire… hence the name.”
“Creating a Night of the Living Dead scenario,” Willow put in.
“Geek points for the perky redhead,” Xander said with admiration.
“It was low-hanging fruit. Tara likes that movie, believe it or not. She thinks it was originally filmed as a documentary, but the government jumped in and told everybody it was just a story.”
Giles gamely cracked open another musty book. “The biggest challenge is the fact that the vampires created by the Fire are essentially mindless. They don’t realize they’ve become vampires, and they do nothing to avoid the things that would destroy them. It makes them fairly easy to kill - if one can get past the horror of staking one’s friends and family members through the heart and watching them turn to dust. The vampires don’t even know to avoid direct sunlight. Most outbreaks of the Fire last only a single night… until sunrise comes and eliminates the problem.”
“That must make for a dusty morning,” Buffy remarked.
“And a tragic one,” Giles added. “We have testimonials from people who lost every single person they knew the moment the sun crested the horizon. It’s said the Tiberius Manifesto contained a spell that could reverse the disease and save its victims, if it could be cast before sunrise. But that book has been lost for centuries. I’ve no idea how we could save the infected without it.”
“So when and where is this blessed event due to hit?” Xander asked. “Do we have a ticking clock? Increasing dramatic tension until it seems all is lost, and then we pull another save out of nowhere?”
“I wish I knew,” Giles said. “Buffy had the dream last night. I’d think we should be prepared for something in the near future.”
“Speaking of ticking clocks,” Buffy said, “I have to get home. Dawn had tap class tonight, so we’re eating dinner late.”
“Dawnie is taking tap lessons?” Willow smiled. “Aww, that’s adorable. Does she have a little top hat and cane?”
“And two left feet. She’s the most enthusiastic spaz ever to put on a leotard.”
“You should be more supportive of her, Buffy…”
“I am supportive. I didn’t strangle her when she stole my blue spangled minidress to make a Roxie Hart costume with.”
“Oooh, did the dress survive?” Xander inquired urgently. “Please tell me that dress survived.”
They opened the door of Giles’ apartment to reveal a pleasantly mild, twilit late summer evening. Crickets chirped in the shrubs nearby.
“Lots of sirens out tonight,” Willow remarked, listening to the steady wail that seemed to be coming from all directions and all distances at once. “Even by Sunnydale standards.”
“Uncle Rory must have violated probation again,” Xander sighed. “Guess I’d better get home and gather with the family round the TV to watch the news. Maybe he’ll wave at us.”
Giles came up behind them. “Buffy,” he said. “Your mother just rang me. She’s concerned that Dawn hasn’t come home from her dance class yet. I told her I’d drive you over near the studio to see if we could find her.”
“Hey,” Xander said, “If lifts are being given, I could use a piece of that action. It’s only, what, five or six blocks out of your way?”
“And this laptop is heavy,” Willow said, making a big show of trying to lift it. “Oooof. See?”
Giles sighed. “God forbid you young people should insult your muscles with any form of physical exertion. Very well, get in. And no eating in the car, on pain of my being very stern with you.”
“No food,” Buffy agreed, “but if Dawn is wearing my spangled minidress again, there may be bloodstain issues to deal with.”
“Oh, so the dress did survive!” Xander said, brightly.
* * * * *
So there I stood with Cho, at the top of Mount Lee up above the HOLLYWOODLAND sign, waiting for a Very Important Demon.
“I hate making deals with demons,” I told her for what must have been the fifth time. “It’s so much more satisfying to, you know, cut their heads off and then take what you need. The old Marie Antoinette Haircut.” And I made a cutting motion across my throat, in case Cho didn’t know who Marie Antoinette was.
“Niemand is bald and has no hair to cut,” Cho replied, missing the reference completely. “And he has something we need. He is a very powerful demon, the leader of the Brotherhood of Seven. Mr. Hardy says that they have killed a dozen Slayers over the centuries. We must beware of them. It gives me no pleasure to deal with him in a less than violent way, but we must do what is necessary to save lives.”
“He’s got a flair for the dramatic, telling us to meet him here. Or the pretentious,” I said, looking down at the top of the sign. “You know, a girl killed herself last year here. Climbed up to the top of the ‘H’ and jumped off.”
“She did not jump,” said a raspy voice from a few feet away where nobody had been a few seconds ago. “She fell. Having one’s brain removed will cause such mishaps. This is a favorite spot of mine for such… transactions. I find it inspiringly grandiose.”
“Pretentious it is, then,” I said irritably. “Were you hoping to scare me with your big bad demon talk, pal? Maybe we should cut to the chase and just whip out our dicks? I brought a ruler.”
Niemand was obviously just going through the motions of trying to look human. He looked like exactly what he was… a demon wearing a human suit, and not really caring if anyone bought it or not. Lugosi could have taken a few pointers from him.
Nice suit, though.
He glanced at me like I was a mildly interesting specimen under a bell jar, then turned to Cho.
“You have the funds you promised?”
Cho reached into the cloth bag hanging on her belt and pulled out a roll of hundred-dollar bills. Enough Ben Franklins to make a merry Christmas in May for every poor sap standing in every soup line in the city down below. The Watchers’ Council had deep pockets.
“And you have the book?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said. “I never lie to mortals. It’s so demeaning.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small book bound in old-looking brown leather.
Cho handed Niemand the roll of hundreds with her left hand, and took the book from him with her right. Was it really gonna be this easy?
I should never ask myself that.
As soon as Cho took the book, the air around us shimmered like a highway on a hot summer day. Then the shimmer turned big, and solid, and hungry. Lots of demons. And unlike Niemand, not worrying even a little bit about looking human.
“Making deals with mortals is demeaning as well,” Niemand said mildly. “But lest you question my honor, this was none of my doing. You’ve simply triggered a spell laid on the book by Vigeous himself, after he relieved Tiberius Magnus of the manuscript, and of his hold on life. This is the original volume, of course, not a copy. Only the best for the Slayer. Ah, well. I’ll be back to collect it when this is finished.”
Niemand put his hands in his pockets, and turned and strolled away. The bastard would have lit up a pipe if he’d had one.
“Not unexpected,” Cho muttered. “I count ten of them. Probably confused and off balance at their sudden summoning after many centuries. Perhaps the poison in this modern air will slow them.”
“They’re from hell, sweetheart. I don’t think the bad air is gonna faze them much.”
Cho ripped at the belt of her Barbara Stanwyck dress, and the skirt came right off to reveal a pair of beautiful bare, brown legs, all ready to kick hell out of our new visitors.
“Whoa,” I said. “Let me do that next time. That’s man’s work.”
“Crack wise later,” she said. “Let’s take care of these mugs first.”
I whistled. “Beautiful, strong, and watches gangster movies. I think I am in love.”
And then the demons were on us, and there was no more time for daydreaming or sightseeing.
Continued in Part 3...