Fic: "Monster Mash" (BtVS, Supernatural) Chapter 4 of 6
Title: Monster Mash, Chapter 4 of 6
Fandom: Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Buffy/Dean (also Sam/Faith)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humor, Romance, Adventure
Wordcount: ~3300 this chapter
Disclaimer: Still don't own and still not getting paid for this.
Summary: Sequel to Take the Long Way Home. Drusilla has evil plans & thinks Dean looks like a fun new toy. Buffy’s undead exes come to the ‘rescue’. Dean’s not at all happy about having to deal with a bunch of ‘fake’ vampires. Oh and Buffy’s REALLY pregnant too.
Link to Masterpost
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~Chapter 4~
Buffy pulled out her phone again and frowned when she saw no messages or missed calls. What was keeping Dean? He should’ve been back by now.
“Sam, have you heard anything from your brother?” she asked hopefully.
Sam raised his head from the book he was flipping through and drew his brows together in concern. “No, I haven’t.” He pulled out his own phone and noted the lack of messages as well. “Maybe he got caught up in traffic… Have you called him?”
Buffy shook her head. “I was going to, but I did send a text about ten minutes ago and he still hasn’t texted me back.”
Sam hit the speed dial button and put the phone against his ear. The call went straight to voice mail. He left a message before turning back to Buffy.
“Something’s not right,” he said. “Do you know where he was going?”
“Just by the house and then to get me some dinner,” she shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I’m sorta guessing Applebee’s. We were headed there anyway, and he knows I’m currently obsessed with their Asian Chicken Salad.” Buffy paused for a moment, deep in thought. “Oh God! Spike!”
Sam stood suddenly, knocking over his chair. “What do you mean, Buffy?” he asked with anger and fear evident in his voice.
“I should have known,” she grumbled as she rubbed at her temples. “Dean’s the ‘poor, frail looking Nancy boy’. Dammit Spike,” she snapped. “I’m so gonna kick your bleached ass when you get back here.”
“Buffy, what are you talking about?” Sam asked. “I know you’re worried, but that doesn’t even make sense.”
“It does if you know Spike,” Angel added. “Unfortunately, it makes way too much sense.”
Buffy could tell that Sam still looked confused, and despite her rising panic, she tried to give him some more explanation.
“Spike may be a vampire and over a century old, but he’s still a guy. The type of guy who acts really mature when he sees a man he thinks might be tougher or better looking than he is.” She turned toward Angel and pleaded, “You have to call him Angel. Find out where he is. We have to get Dean away from Dru! She’ll know we’re connected. You know she will.”
“Buffy, I can’t call him. Spike doesn’t have a phone.”
“What do you mean he ‘doesn’t have a phone’?! Are you actually serious right now? It’s the twenty-first century, Angel. When are you guys gonna get with the times?”
The vampire looked sheepish. “Sorry Buffy, it’s kind of been a big adjustment for us. The whole technology thing’s gotten way out of hand.”
“Fine! Just tell me where he went and I’ll go find him myself.”
Now Angel looked extremely sheepish. “I… uh… don’t know. Thought he told you.”
Buffy buried her face in her hands and whined, “We suck. We’re the worst anti-evil organization ever.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“There you are,” said a male, British voice that Dean knew he should recognize. That was if his brain wasn’t beyond mush by this point. “Thought you were gonna sleep the night away,” the voice continued. “Wouldn’t have hit you so hard if I’d known you had such a soft head there love.”
Now Dean recognized the voice. It was the formerly evil, turned currently evil vampire named Spike.
“Bite me,” he managed to slur out.
“Bit of advice, mate. That’s not such a witty retort when you’re dealin’ with a vampire.”
Dean struggled to focus his gaze and force himself to full awareness. The son of a bitch was standing really close -- too close -- and he was fiddling around with something above his head. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the freak was unlocking the shackles that held his wrists. And apparently he was, because he almost face-planted when he lost their support.
“Bloody hell,” Spike grumbled as he supported Dean’s limp weight by wedging his shoulder underneath his arm. “Don’ get me wrong… you’re pretty enough, but a bit heavy for a damsel in distress.”
As Dean struggled to regain his footing, he instinctively reached for his pistol. It wasn’t there, of course, but his hand did brush against the handle of the knife that was sheathed on his hip. Stupid bitches didn’t completely disarm him and they’d be sorry for that.
“You’re friggin hilarious,” he observed as he whipped the blade out and quickly buried it in Spike’s stomach. This time he wasn’t able to avoid the face-plant when he lost the vampire’s support, but it was so worth it to hear dude scream like a girl.
“You sodding li’l bastard! What the hell did you do that for?”
Dean pushed himself up on his knees and grinned at the sight of Spike bleeding and clutching his stomach. Dude actually had the nerve to look offended too. Damn, he wished he had a picture of this… and a stake. A stake would be awesome. The happy thoughts were short lived, however, once they were joined by Drusilla and six of her poser-vamp minions.
“My poor, beautiful Spike,” Drusilla said sadly. “I knew you’d betray me. You’re still the Slayer’s lapdog. I can smell the witch’s spell on you now. That horrible soul is still pecking away at you.”
“Betray you?! No, pet! I would never betray such a beauty. The whelp was tryin’ to escape! Your Spike was only stoppin’ him for you. Look a’ me, love,” he said as he uncovered his wound. “The tosser stabbed me!”
Drusilla glided across the room and stood pouting in front of Spike. “You never used to tell me such dreadful lies,” she said as she pried the bloody key ring from his clasped fingers and dangled it in front of his face.
“But… Dru, pet! This ‘s not what it looks like.”
Dean had to admit he was damn confused by the whole scene. He’d figured the vampire was just taking him down so he could strap him to the rack or something fun like that. There wasn’t a whole lot of time to ponder the situation, though. One of those giant Fyaryl demon freaks had just entered the picture and was going after Spike, along with three oversized bloodsuckers, and the other three fake-vamps were headed his way. He just hoped he didn’t get hit in the head again.
XXXXXXXXXX
Buffy was standing in Applebee’s parking lot with Sam, Faith, and Angel, who had decided that pregnant Buffy needed a bodyguard. It wasn’t even worth arguing about, so she let him tag along. They were searching for any evidence that Dean had been there since he still wasn’t answering any calls. She was busy scanning the pavement when her heart jumped into her throat at Sam’s exclaimed curse.
“Shit!”
“What is it?”
“It was Dean’s phone,” Sam replied as he held up something vaguely phone-shaped that looked like it had been run over by a train.
Angel strode toward the group, gripping a pistol in his hand. “Found this too. Somebody threw it under a car over there.”
“Something, you mean,” Sam said coldly as he held out a hand to receive his brother’s favorite gun. He had his shoulders held back and his brows pulled down as he loomed over Angel with a very clear, but unspoken: ‘go ahead, fuck with me’.
Buffy just hoped this wasn’t the start of another over-masculinized ‘measuring contest’. Sam wasn’t usually as bad as Dean when it came to that kind of thing, but he was pissed, worried, and not at all convinced that Spike didn’t have something to do with all of this. Angel was obviously going to be caught up in that net of suspicion. But her ex didn’t take the bait and calmly handed over Dean’s pistol without saying a word, although he did give Sam a glare that let him know he wasn’t at all afraid of him. Unexpectedly, Buffy found that a little disappointing. It wasn’t that she particularly wanted to see another argument today, it was just that threatening Angel and Sam would give her something to do and possibly even someone to hit. The bonus was that it would distract her from the feelings of helplessness and fear that were beginning to overtake her.
XXXXXXXXXX
“Bravo, mate,” Spike spat sarcastically from the spot where he was now shackled to the wall several feet away from Dean. “Brilliant job there. What with the surprise stabbing and all, I can’t imagine why the escape plan failed.”
“Screw you. How was I supposed to know it was a rescue? For some reason, I thought you were trying to eat me. Maybe that had something to do with the TKO you laid on me?”
“Hey! I did you a favor. If I hadn’t knocked you out, Dru woulda stripped you bare and introduced you to a whole new level of S&M. Believe me, you wouldn’t ‘ave lasted five minutes.”
Dean snorted. “Dude, you know nothing about me. Trust me, I can handle anything that crazy bitch can bring. She’d run crying from the room again before she ever broke me.”
Spike made a noise that showed he obviously didn’t share Dean’s confidence, but then he began chuckling. “S’pose you could try that projectile vomiting bit on her again. Haven’t seen Dru quite so put out in a good fifty years. Thought we might actually get away for a tick. Still, ‘m sure she’ll be in a right proper snit for a while. Might delay the torture a bit while she cleans herself up. Course, she’s gonna be extra nasty when she does come back. Good show though. Hell of a weapon you got there. Tha’s your super power, I reckon? I can see why the Slayer fancies you.”
“Screw you,” Dean repeated again. His head hurt too bad to come up with a new comeback, plus his mouth tasted like ass. “Puke is what happens when a living, breathing person gets their melon thumped twice in one day. I probably have brain damage. So, thanks. Appreciate it. Now I’m gonna miss my baby being born and if I survive this, the poor kid’ll have damn Forrest Gump for a father. This blows!”
“Oh, bleeding hell. Stop sniveling. What are you going on about anyway? Lucky bloke! You get her! Even get to have the white picket fence dream. And what? I’m s’posed to feel sorry for you? Well, get bent! What do I get outta this? I have to settle for sharing a Shanshu with a poofter who has more hair products than Vidal Sassoon. That’s what.”
“You’re jealous,” Dean gloated.
“Of course I’m jealous, you wanker. And I’ve also had enough of broody bastards, mind you. I’m the one what’s got the real troubles here. Got a giant hole in my gut needs mending! Real, human blood would fix it up right quick too. Ought to drink from your brain stem. And I would… but that would hurt Buffy and I suppose the baby bit needs a father, even if he is a great prancing git.”
Dean laughed, even though it made his head feel like it might fall off. At least this time he was being entertained while he waited to be disemboweled. There were never any amusing intermissions in the Pit. That was for damn sure. “Didn’t know fake-vamps were such whiny little bitches,” he taunted. “Dude, I think you need to see Dr. Phil… or maybe you just need a hug.”
“Sod off.”
Dean was treated to a few moments of silence, before the Bleached Wonder got wound-up again.
“What is all this nonsense about fake vamps you keep yammering on about? It don’t get any more real than me. I was once the scourge of Europe, I’ll have you know. I was William the Bloody, boy! Entire villages lived in terror of me.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Dean remarked with a yawn, because he knew it would piss Spike off. “Listen, William, I’ve been doing this job my entire life and I never saw a freak like you until I moved to the Hellmouth. Real vampires aren’t lame enough to get ganked by a wooden stake or any of that other Bela Lugosi, B-movie crap. It’s freakin sad, dude. Hell, I’m embarrassed for you.”
“Please. Don’t tell me you’re comparing me to one of those cut-rate infected blokes. That’s all they are, you know? It’s like the flu or somethin’. Don’t even have a proper demon in ‘em. A mosquito would make a better vampire.”
“Yeah, yeah… Pull your panties outta your ass and chill. You don’t have to start crying just cause you’re scared of a few splinters.”
“Right,” Spike scoffed. “You got me there…. Hold up,” he said after a brief pause. “You say you been working this gig your whole life? … S’pose that makes you a hunter,” he concluded with obvious distaste. “Buffy ended up with some bleeding twit of a hunter… Now I’m gonna be sick.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“It’s not good, Buffy,” Giles said. “Maybe it’s best if you have a seat first.”
“No,” she snapped impatiently. “I’m not sitting. I’m tired of everyone acting like I’m this delicate little piece of extremely bloated china. Tell me, Giles. What did you find?”
Her watcher adjusted his glasses and flipped the pages of the book he was holding back and forth a couple of times. Clearly he was stalling.
“Giles.”
“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you…. This is a passage from a very ancient book.”
“And…” Buffy said. “They’re all ancient, Giles. What’s the point?”
Giles was put out now, Buffy could tell by the pinched expression on his face.
“Very well then. We’ll get straight to the point. Which is, I’m afraid, that Drusilla appears to be trying to fulfill the Herodian Prophecy.” He paused and directed a stern look in Buffy’s direction when she started to interrupt again. “The writing is vague and unnecessarily obtuse of course, but at the heart of it is a prophecy which deals with a pregnant slayer -- specifically one who carries a female child. Buffy, I believe Drusilla wishes to cut out your baby and raise it as her own,” he spat out quickly.
“Giles!” she gasped. Despite her protests, Buffy suddenly felt the need to be seated and lowered herself into the nearest chair.
“You did ask not to be coddled,” he defended.
“Dru wants to adopt my baby?” she asked in disbelief. “The Drusilla? The same one who thinks there are actually tiny people living inside of the television?”
“She’s tried it before,” Angel remarked. “Not with a slayer’s child, but she does kind of have a thing for pets and infants. They usually end up starving though. She never remembers to feed the poor things.”
“Angel you are NOT helping!” Buffy practically yelled.
“Sorry,” he shrugged, “but it’s true.”
Sam stood up and held his hands out in the way he always did when he was trying to calm everyone down. “Okay, let’s just try to get to the bottom of this. Why would a vampire want to raise a baby? There has to be a reason.”
Giles rubbed at his temples. “Well, it has to do with our mysterious pendant, I’m afraid. It’s known as the Gem of Nasha’. Nasha’ is the root of the Hebrew word meaning to seduce or beguile. According to my sources, it was believed to have been lost centuries ago,” he remarked, shooting a sour look in Angel’s direction before beginning to read from the book he was holding.
“As the life blood drains from the Chosen One, the gem shall become infused with the essence of the pure Slayer which dwells within. The essence of the Slayer shall allow her daughter to become the Great Seducer of Men, the living vessel of Salome. Neither man nor demon shall be able to resist her influence. Great nations will fall by her bidding and the world of man shall lie in ruin.”
“Salome was the woman famous for obtaining the head of John the Baptist on a platter,” Giles explained as he closed the book. “All by dancing seductively, as the story goes. I imagine her reward was quite demonic in nature.”
Buffy took a moment to absorb the utter insanity of it all. Then her head snapped up with determination. “Willow! Tell me you’ve found a way to track Dean. You need to find him now,” she demanded.
Her friend frowned and chewed at her bottom lip nervously. “Jeez Buffy, I’ve tried. It’s impossible for me to break through those thingies carved on his ribs. Dean’s off my radar… he’s off everybody’s radar. I think that was the whole point.”
“Then Drusilla, you have to be able to find Drusilla! Do a tracking spell. How hard can it be to find the world’s most unstable vampire?”
Willow looked like she was trying to disappear through the floor. “It’s hard. Really hard. Buffy, this is the Hellmouth. There are all sorts of crazy things around here. It’s like finding one crazy needle in a giant loony haystack. Unless I’ve got something that belongs to Dru… something to anchor the spell to… I’ve basically got a whole lot of nothing.”
“That’s it then,” Buffy snapped. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to sound extra religious or something like that. “Castiel,” she said sweetly. “We could really use some help down here. Can you come down? Pretty please… with extra sugar on top.”
Buffy waited a few seconds and nothing happened. It was irritating, because he always showed up for Dean and Dean was always a huge smartass in his prayers. He never asked nicely, like she had. There was even one time when he got drunk and sang that goofy ‘Say a Little Prayer Song’, completely out of tune and with added curse words, just to see if Cas would fall for it… and he did.
“Let me try,” Sam said. “He knows me better.”
Buffy stood and crossed her arms above her belly when Sam’s prayer failed just as miserably. “Try telling him that Dean’s in trouble. He has a massive man crush on my husband, I’m sure you realize that.”
Sam gazed back at her like she had three heads. It was ridiculous. She liked Cas, she did. He’d been nice to her in his weird way and he was a pretty cool guy ever since he quit sneaking around and trying to open the door Monsterland, but she was in no mood for this crap right now. It was time to get blunt.
Her brother-in-law laughed uncomfortably. “Buffy, that’s ridiculous. They’re just good friends.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “They are. But that doesn’t mean Cas doesn’t have whatever passes for ‘the hots’ in Angel Land when it comes to Dean. He is really, really good looking. It’s not like I blame the guy. That’s just how it is.”
“Buffy--,” Sam began in obvious disbelief.
“There’s subtext,” Willow put in. “I’m with Buffy. The guy at least has an epic bromance sorta thing for your brother.”
“See!” Buffy said as she pointed to Willow. Then she closed her eyes again and said, “Dearest Castiel, Dean’s in trouble. Could you please come on down?”
Buffy barely had a chance to open her eyes before the stone faced, trench coat wearing angel appeared in the room. He took a second to gaze curiously at Faith, who was doubled over in laughter, before turning back toward Buffy.
“What is wrong with Dean?”
<--- Back to Chapter 3 On to Chapter 5-->
Fandom: Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Buffy/Dean (also Sam/Faith)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humor, Romance, Adventure
Wordcount: ~3300 this chapter
Disclaimer: Still don't own and still not getting paid for this.
Summary: Sequel to Take the Long Way Home. Drusilla has evil plans & thinks Dean looks like a fun new toy. Buffy’s undead exes come to the ‘rescue’. Dean’s not at all happy about having to deal with a bunch of ‘fake’ vampires. Oh and Buffy’s REALLY pregnant too.
Link to Masterpost
or
~Chapter 4~
Buffy pulled out her phone again and frowned when she saw no messages or missed calls. What was keeping Dean? He should’ve been back by now.
“Sam, have you heard anything from your brother?” she asked hopefully.
Sam raised his head from the book he was flipping through and drew his brows together in concern. “No, I haven’t.” He pulled out his own phone and noted the lack of messages as well. “Maybe he got caught up in traffic… Have you called him?”
Buffy shook her head. “I was going to, but I did send a text about ten minutes ago and he still hasn’t texted me back.”
Sam hit the speed dial button and put the phone against his ear. The call went straight to voice mail. He left a message before turning back to Buffy.
“Something’s not right,” he said. “Do you know where he was going?”
“Just by the house and then to get me some dinner,” she shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I’m sorta guessing Applebee’s. We were headed there anyway, and he knows I’m currently obsessed with their Asian Chicken Salad.” Buffy paused for a moment, deep in thought. “Oh God! Spike!”
Sam stood suddenly, knocking over his chair. “What do you mean, Buffy?” he asked with anger and fear evident in his voice.
“I should have known,” she grumbled as she rubbed at her temples. “Dean’s the ‘poor, frail looking Nancy boy’. Dammit Spike,” she snapped. “I’m so gonna kick your bleached ass when you get back here.”
“Buffy, what are you talking about?” Sam asked. “I know you’re worried, but that doesn’t even make sense.”
“It does if you know Spike,” Angel added. “Unfortunately, it makes way too much sense.”
Buffy could tell that Sam still looked confused, and despite her rising panic, she tried to give him some more explanation.
“Spike may be a vampire and over a century old, but he’s still a guy. The type of guy who acts really mature when he sees a man he thinks might be tougher or better looking than he is.” She turned toward Angel and pleaded, “You have to call him Angel. Find out where he is. We have to get Dean away from Dru! She’ll know we’re connected. You know she will.”
“Buffy, I can’t call him. Spike doesn’t have a phone.”
“What do you mean he ‘doesn’t have a phone’?! Are you actually serious right now? It’s the twenty-first century, Angel. When are you guys gonna get with the times?”
The vampire looked sheepish. “Sorry Buffy, it’s kind of been a big adjustment for us. The whole technology thing’s gotten way out of hand.”
“Fine! Just tell me where he went and I’ll go find him myself.”
Now Angel looked extremely sheepish. “I… uh… don’t know. Thought he told you.”
Buffy buried her face in her hands and whined, “We suck. We’re the worst anti-evil organization ever.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“There you are,” said a male, British voice that Dean knew he should recognize. That was if his brain wasn’t beyond mush by this point. “Thought you were gonna sleep the night away,” the voice continued. “Wouldn’t have hit you so hard if I’d known you had such a soft head there love.”
Now Dean recognized the voice. It was the formerly evil, turned currently evil vampire named Spike.
“Bite me,” he managed to slur out.
“Bit of advice, mate. That’s not such a witty retort when you’re dealin’ with a vampire.”
Dean struggled to focus his gaze and force himself to full awareness. The son of a bitch was standing really close -- too close -- and he was fiddling around with something above his head. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the freak was unlocking the shackles that held his wrists. And apparently he was, because he almost face-planted when he lost their support.
“Bloody hell,” Spike grumbled as he supported Dean’s limp weight by wedging his shoulder underneath his arm. “Don’ get me wrong… you’re pretty enough, but a bit heavy for a damsel in distress.”
As Dean struggled to regain his footing, he instinctively reached for his pistol. It wasn’t there, of course, but his hand did brush against the handle of the knife that was sheathed on his hip. Stupid bitches didn’t completely disarm him and they’d be sorry for that.
“You’re friggin hilarious,” he observed as he whipped the blade out and quickly buried it in Spike’s stomach. This time he wasn’t able to avoid the face-plant when he lost the vampire’s support, but it was so worth it to hear dude scream like a girl.
“You sodding li’l bastard! What the hell did you do that for?”
Dean pushed himself up on his knees and grinned at the sight of Spike bleeding and clutching his stomach. Dude actually had the nerve to look offended too. Damn, he wished he had a picture of this… and a stake. A stake would be awesome. The happy thoughts were short lived, however, once they were joined by Drusilla and six of her poser-vamp minions.
“My poor, beautiful Spike,” Drusilla said sadly. “I knew you’d betray me. You’re still the Slayer’s lapdog. I can smell the witch’s spell on you now. That horrible soul is still pecking away at you.”
“Betray you?! No, pet! I would never betray such a beauty. The whelp was tryin’ to escape! Your Spike was only stoppin’ him for you. Look a’ me, love,” he said as he uncovered his wound. “The tosser stabbed me!”
Drusilla glided across the room and stood pouting in front of Spike. “You never used to tell me such dreadful lies,” she said as she pried the bloody key ring from his clasped fingers and dangled it in front of his face.
“But… Dru, pet! This ‘s not what it looks like.”
Dean had to admit he was damn confused by the whole scene. He’d figured the vampire was just taking him down so he could strap him to the rack or something fun like that. There wasn’t a whole lot of time to ponder the situation, though. One of those giant Fyaryl demon freaks had just entered the picture and was going after Spike, along with three oversized bloodsuckers, and the other three fake-vamps were headed his way. He just hoped he didn’t get hit in the head again.
XXXXXXXXXX
Buffy was standing in Applebee’s parking lot with Sam, Faith, and Angel, who had decided that pregnant Buffy needed a bodyguard. It wasn’t even worth arguing about, so she let him tag along. They were searching for any evidence that Dean had been there since he still wasn’t answering any calls. She was busy scanning the pavement when her heart jumped into her throat at Sam’s exclaimed curse.
“Shit!”
“What is it?”
“It was Dean’s phone,” Sam replied as he held up something vaguely phone-shaped that looked like it had been run over by a train.
Angel strode toward the group, gripping a pistol in his hand. “Found this too. Somebody threw it under a car over there.”
“Something, you mean,” Sam said coldly as he held out a hand to receive his brother’s favorite gun. He had his shoulders held back and his brows pulled down as he loomed over Angel with a very clear, but unspoken: ‘go ahead, fuck with me’.
Buffy just hoped this wasn’t the start of another over-masculinized ‘measuring contest’. Sam wasn’t usually as bad as Dean when it came to that kind of thing, but he was pissed, worried, and not at all convinced that Spike didn’t have something to do with all of this. Angel was obviously going to be caught up in that net of suspicion. But her ex didn’t take the bait and calmly handed over Dean’s pistol without saying a word, although he did give Sam a glare that let him know he wasn’t at all afraid of him. Unexpectedly, Buffy found that a little disappointing. It wasn’t that she particularly wanted to see another argument today, it was just that threatening Angel and Sam would give her something to do and possibly even someone to hit. The bonus was that it would distract her from the feelings of helplessness and fear that were beginning to overtake her.
XXXXXXXXXX
“Bravo, mate,” Spike spat sarcastically from the spot where he was now shackled to the wall several feet away from Dean. “Brilliant job there. What with the surprise stabbing and all, I can’t imagine why the escape plan failed.”
“Screw you. How was I supposed to know it was a rescue? For some reason, I thought you were trying to eat me. Maybe that had something to do with the TKO you laid on me?”
“Hey! I did you a favor. If I hadn’t knocked you out, Dru woulda stripped you bare and introduced you to a whole new level of S&M. Believe me, you wouldn’t ‘ave lasted five minutes.”
Dean snorted. “Dude, you know nothing about me. Trust me, I can handle anything that crazy bitch can bring. She’d run crying from the room again before she ever broke me.”
Spike made a noise that showed he obviously didn’t share Dean’s confidence, but then he began chuckling. “S’pose you could try that projectile vomiting bit on her again. Haven’t seen Dru quite so put out in a good fifty years. Thought we might actually get away for a tick. Still, ‘m sure she’ll be in a right proper snit for a while. Might delay the torture a bit while she cleans herself up. Course, she’s gonna be extra nasty when she does come back. Good show though. Hell of a weapon you got there. Tha’s your super power, I reckon? I can see why the Slayer fancies you.”
“Screw you,” Dean repeated again. His head hurt too bad to come up with a new comeback, plus his mouth tasted like ass. “Puke is what happens when a living, breathing person gets their melon thumped twice in one day. I probably have brain damage. So, thanks. Appreciate it. Now I’m gonna miss my baby being born and if I survive this, the poor kid’ll have damn Forrest Gump for a father. This blows!”
“Oh, bleeding hell. Stop sniveling. What are you going on about anyway? Lucky bloke! You get her! Even get to have the white picket fence dream. And what? I’m s’posed to feel sorry for you? Well, get bent! What do I get outta this? I have to settle for sharing a Shanshu with a poofter who has more hair products than Vidal Sassoon. That’s what.”
“You’re jealous,” Dean gloated.
“Of course I’m jealous, you wanker. And I’ve also had enough of broody bastards, mind you. I’m the one what’s got the real troubles here. Got a giant hole in my gut needs mending! Real, human blood would fix it up right quick too. Ought to drink from your brain stem. And I would… but that would hurt Buffy and I suppose the baby bit needs a father, even if he is a great prancing git.”
Dean laughed, even though it made his head feel like it might fall off. At least this time he was being entertained while he waited to be disemboweled. There were never any amusing intermissions in the Pit. That was for damn sure. “Didn’t know fake-vamps were such whiny little bitches,” he taunted. “Dude, I think you need to see Dr. Phil… or maybe you just need a hug.”
“Sod off.”
Dean was treated to a few moments of silence, before the Bleached Wonder got wound-up again.
“What is all this nonsense about fake vamps you keep yammering on about? It don’t get any more real than me. I was once the scourge of Europe, I’ll have you know. I was William the Bloody, boy! Entire villages lived in terror of me.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Dean remarked with a yawn, because he knew it would piss Spike off. “Listen, William, I’ve been doing this job my entire life and I never saw a freak like you until I moved to the Hellmouth. Real vampires aren’t lame enough to get ganked by a wooden stake or any of that other Bela Lugosi, B-movie crap. It’s freakin sad, dude. Hell, I’m embarrassed for you.”
“Please. Don’t tell me you’re comparing me to one of those cut-rate infected blokes. That’s all they are, you know? It’s like the flu or somethin’. Don’t even have a proper demon in ‘em. A mosquito would make a better vampire.”
“Yeah, yeah… Pull your panties outta your ass and chill. You don’t have to start crying just cause you’re scared of a few splinters.”
“Right,” Spike scoffed. “You got me there…. Hold up,” he said after a brief pause. “You say you been working this gig your whole life? … S’pose that makes you a hunter,” he concluded with obvious distaste. “Buffy ended up with some bleeding twit of a hunter… Now I’m gonna be sick.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“It’s not good, Buffy,” Giles said. “Maybe it’s best if you have a seat first.”
“No,” she snapped impatiently. “I’m not sitting. I’m tired of everyone acting like I’m this delicate little piece of extremely bloated china. Tell me, Giles. What did you find?”
Her watcher adjusted his glasses and flipped the pages of the book he was holding back and forth a couple of times. Clearly he was stalling.
“Giles.”
“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you…. This is a passage from a very ancient book.”
“And…” Buffy said. “They’re all ancient, Giles. What’s the point?”
Giles was put out now, Buffy could tell by the pinched expression on his face.
“Very well then. We’ll get straight to the point. Which is, I’m afraid, that Drusilla appears to be trying to fulfill the Herodian Prophecy.” He paused and directed a stern look in Buffy’s direction when she started to interrupt again. “The writing is vague and unnecessarily obtuse of course, but at the heart of it is a prophecy which deals with a pregnant slayer -- specifically one who carries a female child. Buffy, I believe Drusilla wishes to cut out your baby and raise it as her own,” he spat out quickly.
“Giles!” she gasped. Despite her protests, Buffy suddenly felt the need to be seated and lowered herself into the nearest chair.
“You did ask not to be coddled,” he defended.
“Dru wants to adopt my baby?” she asked in disbelief. “The Drusilla? The same one who thinks there are actually tiny people living inside of the television?”
“She’s tried it before,” Angel remarked. “Not with a slayer’s child, but she does kind of have a thing for pets and infants. They usually end up starving though. She never remembers to feed the poor things.”
“Angel you are NOT helping!” Buffy practically yelled.
“Sorry,” he shrugged, “but it’s true.”
Sam stood up and held his hands out in the way he always did when he was trying to calm everyone down. “Okay, let’s just try to get to the bottom of this. Why would a vampire want to raise a baby? There has to be a reason.”
Giles rubbed at his temples. “Well, it has to do with our mysterious pendant, I’m afraid. It’s known as the Gem of Nasha’. Nasha’ is the root of the Hebrew word meaning to seduce or beguile. According to my sources, it was believed to have been lost centuries ago,” he remarked, shooting a sour look in Angel’s direction before beginning to read from the book he was holding.
“As the life blood drains from the Chosen One, the gem shall become infused with the essence of the pure Slayer which dwells within. The essence of the Slayer shall allow her daughter to become the Great Seducer of Men, the living vessel of Salome. Neither man nor demon shall be able to resist her influence. Great nations will fall by her bidding and the world of man shall lie in ruin.”
“Salome was the woman famous for obtaining the head of John the Baptist on a platter,” Giles explained as he closed the book. “All by dancing seductively, as the story goes. I imagine her reward was quite demonic in nature.”
Buffy took a moment to absorb the utter insanity of it all. Then her head snapped up with determination. “Willow! Tell me you’ve found a way to track Dean. You need to find him now,” she demanded.
Her friend frowned and chewed at her bottom lip nervously. “Jeez Buffy, I’ve tried. It’s impossible for me to break through those thingies carved on his ribs. Dean’s off my radar… he’s off everybody’s radar. I think that was the whole point.”
“Then Drusilla, you have to be able to find Drusilla! Do a tracking spell. How hard can it be to find the world’s most unstable vampire?”
Willow looked like she was trying to disappear through the floor. “It’s hard. Really hard. Buffy, this is the Hellmouth. There are all sorts of crazy things around here. It’s like finding one crazy needle in a giant loony haystack. Unless I’ve got something that belongs to Dru… something to anchor the spell to… I’ve basically got a whole lot of nothing.”
“That’s it then,” Buffy snapped. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to sound extra religious or something like that. “Castiel,” she said sweetly. “We could really use some help down here. Can you come down? Pretty please… with extra sugar on top.”
Buffy waited a few seconds and nothing happened. It was irritating, because he always showed up for Dean and Dean was always a huge smartass in his prayers. He never asked nicely, like she had. There was even one time when he got drunk and sang that goofy ‘Say a Little Prayer Song’, completely out of tune and with added curse words, just to see if Cas would fall for it… and he did.
“Let me try,” Sam said. “He knows me better.”
Buffy stood and crossed her arms above her belly when Sam’s prayer failed just as miserably. “Try telling him that Dean’s in trouble. He has a massive man crush on my husband, I’m sure you realize that.”
Sam gazed back at her like she had three heads. It was ridiculous. She liked Cas, she did. He’d been nice to her in his weird way and he was a pretty cool guy ever since he quit sneaking around and trying to open the door Monsterland, but she was in no mood for this crap right now. It was time to get blunt.
Her brother-in-law laughed uncomfortably. “Buffy, that’s ridiculous. They’re just good friends.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “They are. But that doesn’t mean Cas doesn’t have whatever passes for ‘the hots’ in Angel Land when it comes to Dean. He is really, really good looking. It’s not like I blame the guy. That’s just how it is.”
“Buffy--,” Sam began in obvious disbelief.
“There’s subtext,” Willow put in. “I’m with Buffy. The guy at least has an epic bromance sorta thing for your brother.”
“See!” Buffy said as she pointed to Willow. Then she closed her eyes again and said, “Dearest Castiel, Dean’s in trouble. Could you please come on down?”
Buffy barely had a chance to open her eyes before the stone faced, trench coat wearing angel appeared in the room. He took a second to gaze curiously at Faith, who was doubled over in laughter, before turning back toward Buffy.
“What is wrong with Dean?”
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