Disclaimer: None of the characters in this fic belong to me. Some of them don't belong to Joss, either!
The object on the crypt floor had the pus-raddled, pulsating look of a Suvolte egg.
Of course, only an idiot would walk right up to a pulsating Suvolte egg and take a look. But it wasn't a Suvolte egg, or at least if it was it was strangely unhealthy. Spike shrugged--"Oi! What's this?"--and strolled over.
Maybe it was a deformed Suvolte. Born dead or dying, it'd still have useful glands and whatnot, and without all the fuss and mess of maybe getting one's head eaten.
The pucker at the top hinged open....
********
"Dawn!"
The teenage ex-Key's head popped up across the bed from Anya. "Huh?"
"Dawn, where did you get this? It's clearly very expensive and maybe we should sell it. I mean, if it's a family heirloom or something." Anya waved the large red gemstone about as Dawn glared at her. "Well, I mean, obviously because you're having so many problems with money now that Joyce is dead and Buffy isn't any more."
Dawn sighed. "I got that part. I've just never seen it before. I don't even think it was on the bed when we came in."
"Maybe it's a mystical gemstone," the ex-demon speculated. "Sometimes these things teleport about, looking for owners, you know?" It did have a mesmerizing glow... "I think I'll take it to the Magic Box and examine it." A beat. "I mean, if that's all right with you. Some mystical gems are dangerous and you wouldn't want to keep them in your house."
"Go ahead." Dawn shrugged. For a moment she'd been afraid Anya had seen the charm bracelet she'd lifted from the store earlier. "It sure isn't mine."
********
Heavy breathing resonated through the Trio's basement lair.
"Wow!" Jonathan exclaimed. "That's one cool hologram!" He reached out to touch the black fabric, expecting his hand to pass through it--and jerked it back immediately. The robe was solid; it even felt like real cloth.
"It's not a hologram exactly," Warren confirmed. "Since the invisibility ray didn't exactly work out like we planned, I figured I'd use the quantum-mystical diamond for something else. You know...why watch movies in HD when you can watch them in 3D?"
Andrew frowned. "Isn't that kinda dangerous? I mean, what with being solid and all?"
"Don't be ridiculous," scoffed Warren. "They're totally under our control. It's all hooked into the repurposed digital recording setup on my PC." He waved his hand in the direction of the fascinating black-clad figure.
Darth Vader regarded the gesture with seeming unconcern...then responded with a motion of his own. "I find your lack of faith...disturbing." Abruptly an invisible hand seemed to lift Warren into the air by his throat. The spiky-haired leader of the Trio waved his hands frantically, trying to shout an order, but the redness of his face made it plain he was unable to get a breath.
For a moment his friends stood there, paralyzed with fascination. Choking, Warren directed a furious glare at Andrew, mouthing "Move it, you dolt!" Andrew stumbled over Jonathan's feet, and in moments the two of them were puzzling over the elaborate menu on Warren's computer screen.
"I think it's this one!"
"No, wait, we don't want to crash the whole system. This one will shut off the current program!"
Warren, his face turning purple, managed a groan. Jonathan, panicking, stabbed his fingers at a handful of function buttons. For a moment, the system seemed to hang...and then Warren dropped to the floor, gasping for air.
The cyborg Sith Lord had vanished.
Breathing sighs of relief, the bungling masterminds assisted their fallen leader to his feet. "I think it needs a little work, Warren," Andrew opined. For once, Warren didn't bother to argue with him...though perhaps only because he was still struggling to fill his lungs. He merely allowed the others to lead him up out of the apartment for an astringent beverage to help stimulate his throat into working properly.
So no one remained to notice the sparks that had begun emanating from the overloaded surge protector...
********
Anya studied the gemstone through a jeweler's loupe. The Magic Box had all manner of equipment for examining magical items, although the loupe didn't get a great deal of use; magical gems were even more expensive than mundane ones, usually far exceeding the cost-to-profit ratio for a small store. Naturally, Anya had learned how to use the thing anyway; she hoped it would come in handy one day.
"Darn it!" The stone seemed to have a tiny flaw at the center. Even though it was almost imperceptible to the naked eye, any self-respecting jeweler would knock a zero or two off the price for that. She'd just have to keep her mouth shut when the occasional wealthy customer asked. If she didn't say anything, it wasn't lying, and Anya knew she could stay quiet if she really had to. If there was money involved, anyway. Maybe. Irritated, she slammed the stone down on the counter a little harder than she should have.
Still, that was no reason for it to shatter into tiny pieces! With a wail of dismay, Anya fled the shop, stopping just long enough to lock the door and turn the sign to "Closed". Years of financial security, gone in the blink of an eye! She needed a drink.
********
Willow batted ineffectually at the flying object with a pillow, only to have it shredded into bits of fluff for her troubles. The silvery device whirled its blades and dove for her again.
Magic. She needed magic. But she was trying to stay off the magic.
The levitating buzzball sped by her head, chopping off a stray lock of hair as she lunged to her left and out of the way. "This isn't fair! If I'm not using magic, people shouldn't be attacking me with magic! I mean, that's only right and just, isn't it? The karmic balance and everything?"
Not paying the least bit of attention to her perfectly logical reasoning, the silvery object pursued her into the kitchen. Willow grabbed a frying pan and swatted it with all her might...which, she figured, ought to be pretty considerable after all these years fighting at a vampire slayer's side. With a hideous chunk! the blades penetrated straight through the cast iron, only to grind to a halt. Willow stared, eyes wide, as the ball whirred and rattled for a moment before falling still at last.
Gingerly, she laid a finger on the side of the ball. The object fairly tingled with magic, shimmering beneath her touch, but failed to leap into action and chop off her hand. Before she could scoop it up, though, it shimmered again and evaporated into mist. The magical residue vanished almost immediately.
Pouting, Willow stalked out of the room. No one was going to like seeing her at the Magic Box, but research was research. And if she snitched a little power from something or other, who'd notice?
********
Dawn came down from her room some time later, having finally located the homework she was supposed to be finishing. She paused briefly at the end table, seeing a videotape lying there. What's this for? she wondered. Shortly before her mother's death, they'd replaced their ailing VCR with a DVD player and given away the remaining tapes. She picked up the video, searching for a label, but there was nothing to see. "Oh well." She shrugged and dropping it into the trash.
Buffy was sprawled on the living room couch. Having come home early from the Doublemeat Palace, she'd meant to spend some time helping Dawn with homework, but apparently she'd been too tired. Dawn sighed and headed past the couch on her way to an easy chair...then noticed that her sister seemed unnaturally still. She wasn't breathing. Dawn yelped and grabbed Buffy's arm, feeling for a pulse.
********
The scarred madman leaned idly on his shovel. This had all been much too easy; he could have gotten away with just being present in the dream and this girl would have practically killed herself. But assuming the role of the vampire shoving her into the grave had been so much more fun. He could feel her delightfully powerful soul, energizing him. "This time," he chuckled, "I get to do the burying."
A hand burst from the freshly-turned earth and seized his ankle in an unbreakable grip. Before he could try whacking it with the shovel edge, the rest of the girl emerged, all but exploding from the grave beneath him. She hurled his shovel into the distance, seized him by the shoulders, and slammed his head down into her own tombstone, sending his hat flying.
"Y'know something?" she lisped. "I'd have expected any monster with half a brain to stay out of my nightmares by now." Her face had grown deformed, but symmetrically--it clearly wasn't covered in burns like his own. "And this?" The girl drove a hand deep into his chest. "Go get your own." Ripping her soul free of him, she vanished from the dream.
Maybe he'd try another spot. After all, every town did have an Elm Street.
********
Dawn was just about to start CPR when Buffy jackknifed upright, gasping for breath on her own. "Whoa. So much for the absence of horror in horror movies."
Dawn stared at her. "You were dead. I mean, you were dead again!" A sudden thought struck her and she grabbed Buffy's arm, checking for a pulse a second time. But Buffy's heart was definitely racing. "Okay, not a vampire. Or a zombie or anything."
Buffy frowned back at her little sister. "How'd you know what I was dreaming? Except this time the vampire who turned me was Freddy, from those eighties movies."
"Freddy? The guy who gets into people's nightmares and makes them real?" Dawn thought she must be looking awfully pale. "I'm telling you, Buffy, you were dead. I checked. You ought to still be dead, whether it was a dream monster or something else."
With a grunt, Buffy rose from the couch. "Same old nightmare about being a vampire. I guess there aren't any undead on Elm Street." She doubted Dawn was joking; her recent death was still too raw and new for that. "What brings movie monsters to life?"
"I got nothin'," Dawn admitted. Then, thinking, she added, "But it's a good thing we don't have a VCR any more." She crossed the room, headed for the trash can.
But the videotape had disappeared.
********
Willow had reached the Magic Box only to find a squad car waiting outside the shattered glass door. The officers studying the presumed crime scene were the low-level, skeptical sort, scoffing at her mention of actual mystical forces being possibly involved. Apparently the store had been closed at the time, so Anya probably wasn't in any danger, but one of the officers let slip that it looked like the door had been burst from the inside. Willow knew what that meant--something they'd been selling had gone sour in a bad way.
So much for information on floating metal balls. She wasn't getting inside any time soon. Grumbling to herself, she set off back down the street after being asked a few questions.
Just a block away, a balding man in a business suit who'd been standing near another storefront suddenly approached her. "Pardon me, young mistress. Would you happen to know whose establishment that is? I was hoping to...conduct some business there."
Willow frowned. Almost everyone who visited the Magic Box knew by now that Anya was running the place. Still, every now and then they did get people from out of town. "Anya Jenkins. She's a friend of mine. Well...sort of."
"I see, I see." He frowned back at her. "Perhaps you could help me locate her? I do have have an urgent matter to settle."
"Um...sorry." That didn't sound like a very good idea. Anya had a number of demonic acquaintances, not all of whom still liked her a great deal, and this fellow had a strangely formal way of talking. "I don't think she'll be selling anything until the store re-opens anyway. But I'm sure if you wait she'll be happy to let you buy whatever you want."
"Actually, I was hoping to make her an offer. Ah well. You did seem to be on your way there yourself, however. Did you wish to make a purchase?" This guy was seeming creepier by the minute.
Willow decided to brush him off and mention him to Anya and Buffy later. "No, I just wanted to talk. I needed some information, that's all."
"Are you certain? I might be able to provide you with that information. Or, indeed, anything else you might be looking for."
She groaned. Obviously the man was a snake-oil salesman trying to peddle bootlegged or second-hand magic charms. Anya would never buy anything from him, but she'd be annoyed to have him cutting into her business. It was people like him who ruined magic's reputation in the first place. "The only thing I want," she snapped, "you can't give me."
Shrugging, he replied as pleasantly as ever, "And how would you know, unless you ask?"
Glaring, Willow answered, "I just want my girlfriend to be okay with me doing magic. Think you can fix that?" She spun on her heel and marched away, prepared to put him in a world of pain if he hassled her any further.
So naturally she failed to hear his murmured response. "Done."
********
There was something hard under his back...
Right. The floor. Spike was lying on the floor. Why was that?
There'd been some kind of egg in his crypt. Only, clearly it hadn't been a Suvolte egg, or he'd have been in little pieces. Maybe very small pieces, if it'd taken his head off.
"Alright then." Whatever it was, best not to lie here waiting for it. He was most of the way to his feet before noticing the dead husk lying in a corner. The creature resembled a pair of hands joined at the base, with a whiplike tail. Where had he seen...?
Waitaminnit. These things weren't real. Spike picked up the corpse, scowling. The shell had the hard, dry feel of an insect's corpse, though of course the body was much heavier.than any natural insect. Prying off a finger--or a leg, whatever it was--he took a deep breath. Smelled caustic, sure enough, though most of the blood had dried up.
It must have been clamped around his face. Of course, he wasn't alive, properly speaking, but there was no telling how the things worked, what with they weren't even real an' all. If all it had to do was chomp on his insides, he was at least in for a spot of pain.
He hadn't even been able to get his chip removed. The so-called "Scoobies" might make an effort to stop a killer beast from bursting out of his chest...or they might just stake him to get at it. He was a killer beast too. More or less...no, none of that! He was!
Spike was just going to have to deal with the little bugger himself.
********
Buffy spun and kicked over yet another zombie. "Brains," it moaned. Great...just great. As if the real-life, non-brains-eating kind weren't bad enough. No guns on hand to blow its head off, either.
"Really? Lemme fix that up for you." She bent over and drove a stake through the creature's eye. "There. No more brains. Happy?"
She'd been trying to get to the Magic Box with Dawn, where hopefully they could figure out how to get rid of movie monsters that had been brought to life. Buffy was sure it had to be a spell, or maybe some kind of gizmo, because this was way too much the geek squad's MO to be a demonic attack.
"Xander!" Dawn shouted. Sure enough, their own personal geek was trotting towards them, limping and panting a little.
"Guys, I hate to say it," Xander choked out, "but I think I've changed my mind again about clowns. Clowns bad. Evil clowns. Well, one evil clown anyway."
Buffy winced. "If you got away from Pennywise or whatever his name is, I'll consider that a major accomplishment."
"Actually he didn't see me." He shrugged sheepishly. "When I saw him through the peephole, I went out the window instead. Where's Willow? I thought I saw her over here."
Dawn shook her head. "Not with us. But we're on the way to the Magic Box...she might be trying to meet up with us."
Xander sighed. "Hate to say it, but I'm not loving the magic-less Willow at this point. This could kinda get ugly without all our big guns on deck." Sucking in a deep breath, he made as if to start running again, but a cry from the other side of the street halted the group.
"No rest for the weary," Buffy grumbled, leaping onto the roof of a parked car with a loud bang. Startled, the velociraptor on the trunk of the car in front turned to face her, releasing a loud snarl. "Sorry, pal, but that gig's not for you. Vampires sound way better when they do that."
The angry predator leaped at her feet-first, claws outstretched. Instead of ducking or trying to run, Buffy lunged forward and yanked a leg from under it as it fell. Landing lopsided on the roof, it tottered sideways with a crack of snapping bone. "Ouch! Better get that looked at quick. All sorts of hungry critters out tonight." The crippled reptile hissed and moaned, writhing but unable to get to its feet, and she turned her back on it, casually hopping down toward the other car.
Willow emerged from the sedan, looking nervously around. "Those things hunt in packs. Well...in the movies, they do, but I'm not sure that..." She paused, seeming to consider. "Um, just keep an eye out?"
Buffy nodded. "Magic Box, right?"
With a guilty shrug, Willow agreed. "Got to figure out some way to stop this. I figure if it has to be a spell, we can get...I mean, Tara can..."
"Will, calm down." The breakup had taken a lot out of her friend. "We'll be fine. I'm sure Tara can manage, and she'll understand why you needed to meet us there instead of somewhere else." The redhead gave her a doubtful look, but nodded. "We'll take out the source and Sunnydale will go back to...well, what passes for normal."
"Will it, now?" cackled a voice from a second-story window, producing a grimace from Willow.
"Um, Will," Xander whispered, "I'm thinking just this one time you might have to do a little magic." But Willow stammered something noncommittal and seemed to freeze in place.
The mummy-like sorceress at the window chortled evilly at them. "Is this what you call an army? You're not warriors...."
"Willow!" It wasn't something Buffy wanted to ask of her, but at this point the alternative was looking worse. "Take her..."
"Aperchome!" The command seemed to strike Bavmorda with physical force. The witch cried out and toppled back from the window. "Um, we should g-get out of here?" Tara suggested. "I d-don't think that will stop her for long."
"Great save, Tara!" Xander's relief was obvious, not to mention entirely understandable. "I thought we were all bacon."
"It was nothing," she responded modestly. "But Willow, why didn't you do anything?"
Willow blinked, startled and uncomfortable. "I...I guess I was going to. If I had to. I wouldn't have thought you'd have wanted me to..."
"G-get turned into an animal? It's okay, Will...one witch as a rat is bad enough." Tara frowned. "Maybe I should have tried that. I could give her a taste of her own medicine." Willow seized her by the hand and pulled her onward. "Or not?"
"Don't worry about it, Tara," Dawn supplied. "If we meet up with her again, you can try it then."
********
"Imagine meetin' you here."
"What? I'm a demon too. Well...ex-demon. I have a perfect right to come in here." Anya looked a little flustered, but not for anything he'd said.
"Right, and enjoy the yak urine? Last I heard, your taste buds were too human for what Willy's got on tap." Spike tossed back another glass of pig's blood. He knew he shouldn't--there was a very bad reason for the gnawing hunger in his gut--but he was alternating with a mix of spirits-and-alkali that he hoped would knock any critter with acid for blood for a loop.
"I'll have you know that Willy has some very good whiskey. He just doesn't advertise it, so humans don't come in and get themselves into trouble." Anya seemed not to be including herself in that group, without much justification that he could see. She beckoned Willy over. Smelled human enough to him, and he didn't plan to test himself whether it was true. "The truth is I wasn't really thinking," she said in a much softer voice, enough that most of the beings in the bar probably didn't quite hear. "I just lost a very large amount of money." Well, now...that would do it.
Spike downed a sixth glass of battery fluid--not for the squeamish, but perfectly good nourishment for Taranak demons, and mostly harmless to him. "Figures as..." A burst of pain shot through his chest, and he clutched at it, leaning forward over the bar.
"Hey, now," Willy grumbled, "you don't wanna get sick on my bar, y'hear? Go an' do that outside."
"'m not sick!" he shouted, realizing even as he did that no one would buy that. Might not even be true, exactly.
"Spike!" Anya sounded annoyed as ever. "What have you gone and gotten yourself into this time? Or gotten into yourself, I should say," she corrected, seeing the circle of blood forming on his shirt.
"Get back!" he growled. There was no point in her getting hurt. Anya wasn't such a bad... The pain exploded as something erupted from his chest, looking from side to side and gnashing tiny teeth. It wriggled free and leaped onto the bar, hissing fiercely.
With a startled smile, Clem darted forward, grabbed the little alien, and popped its head into his mouth, biting down. "Ha! Spike, if I'd known you were bringing me a snack...well, anyway, consider that five-kitten debt settled. Thanks!"
The brief moment of surprise passed, and chatter erupted from the nearby tables again. Never a dull moment at Willy's place.
********
"We know it's not a demon," Buffy insisted.
"It could be a demon," Dawn retorted. "They've summoned demons before, remember?"
"But it's still the geeks," her sister maintained, "so we need to be finding counterspells." She already had her hands full just dealing with the side effects. Fighting a real demon in addition could become a problem. Simpler just to send the thing back where it came from, if that was what it was.
Tara shook her head. "Sending it back won't solve a problem, if it's a demon. Something with this kind of power would have to reverse the effect deliberately. That m-means one of us will have to face it down."
"Anyone getting a familiar vibe on this?" Xander interrupted. "It sorta seems a lot like that time our nightmares started coming to life. Only this time, it's everybody's nightmares."
The blond witch gave Xander a startled look. "Actually, that makes sense. These things come from the collective unconsciousness, just not the individual one." Tara glanced at Willow, then looked away again as Willow acted as if she might say something.
Dawn had a question. "If it's a powerful spell or something, are you sure you can end it by yourself? I mean, I don't want Willow to do any magic she doesn't have to, but if the whole world is going to fold up into...the horror-movie realm or something anyway, I don't see how a maybe-problem from one of us can make it worse." Buffy placed a hand on her sister's arm and started to speak.
"It's okay," Tara insisted before Buffy could get a word in. "I had it all wrong about Willow." She reached over and put an arm around the redhead's shoulder. "See, flesh is a t-trap. And magic...it sets you free."
Buffy stared at her. "Huh?"
The object on the crypt floor had the pus-raddled, pulsating look of a Suvolte egg.
Of course, only an idiot would walk right up to a pulsating Suvolte egg and take a look. But it wasn't a Suvolte egg, or at least if it was it was strangely unhealthy. Spike shrugged--"Oi! What's this?"--and strolled over.
Maybe it was a deformed Suvolte. Born dead or dying, it'd still have useful glands and whatnot, and without all the fuss and mess of maybe getting one's head eaten.
The pucker at the top hinged open....
********
"Dawn!"
The teenage ex-Key's head popped up across the bed from Anya. "Huh?"
"Dawn, where did you get this? It's clearly very expensive and maybe we should sell it. I mean, if it's a family heirloom or something." Anya waved the large red gemstone about as Dawn glared at her. "Well, I mean, obviously because you're having so many problems with money now that Joyce is dead and Buffy isn't any more."
Dawn sighed. "I got that part. I've just never seen it before. I don't even think it was on the bed when we came in."
"Maybe it's a mystical gemstone," the ex-demon speculated. "Sometimes these things teleport about, looking for owners, you know?" It did have a mesmerizing glow... "I think I'll take it to the Magic Box and examine it." A beat. "I mean, if that's all right with you. Some mystical gems are dangerous and you wouldn't want to keep them in your house."
"Go ahead." Dawn shrugged. For a moment she'd been afraid Anya had seen the charm bracelet she'd lifted from the store earlier. "It sure isn't mine."
********
Heavy breathing resonated through the Trio's basement lair.
"Wow!" Jonathan exclaimed. "That's one cool hologram!" He reached out to touch the black fabric, expecting his hand to pass through it--and jerked it back immediately. The robe was solid; it even felt like real cloth.
"It's not a hologram exactly," Warren confirmed. "Since the invisibility ray didn't exactly work out like we planned, I figured I'd use the quantum-mystical diamond for something else. You know...why watch movies in HD when you can watch them in 3D?"
Andrew frowned. "Isn't that kinda dangerous? I mean, what with being solid and all?"
"Don't be ridiculous," scoffed Warren. "They're totally under our control. It's all hooked into the repurposed digital recording setup on my PC." He waved his hand in the direction of the fascinating black-clad figure.
Darth Vader regarded the gesture with seeming unconcern...then responded with a motion of his own. "I find your lack of faith...disturbing." Abruptly an invisible hand seemed to lift Warren into the air by his throat. The spiky-haired leader of the Trio waved his hands frantically, trying to shout an order, but the redness of his face made it plain he was unable to get a breath.
For a moment his friends stood there, paralyzed with fascination. Choking, Warren directed a furious glare at Andrew, mouthing "Move it, you dolt!" Andrew stumbled over Jonathan's feet, and in moments the two of them were puzzling over the elaborate menu on Warren's computer screen.
"I think it's this one!"
"No, wait, we don't want to crash the whole system. This one will shut off the current program!"
Warren, his face turning purple, managed a groan. Jonathan, panicking, stabbed his fingers at a handful of function buttons. For a moment, the system seemed to hang...and then Warren dropped to the floor, gasping for air.
The cyborg Sith Lord had vanished.
Breathing sighs of relief, the bungling masterminds assisted their fallen leader to his feet. "I think it needs a little work, Warren," Andrew opined. For once, Warren didn't bother to argue with him...though perhaps only because he was still struggling to fill his lungs. He merely allowed the others to lead him up out of the apartment for an astringent beverage to help stimulate his throat into working properly.
So no one remained to notice the sparks that had begun emanating from the overloaded surge protector...
********
Anya studied the gemstone through a jeweler's loupe. The Magic Box had all manner of equipment for examining magical items, although the loupe didn't get a great deal of use; magical gems were even more expensive than mundane ones, usually far exceeding the cost-to-profit ratio for a small store. Naturally, Anya had learned how to use the thing anyway; she hoped it would come in handy one day.
"Darn it!" The stone seemed to have a tiny flaw at the center. Even though it was almost imperceptible to the naked eye, any self-respecting jeweler would knock a zero or two off the price for that. She'd just have to keep her mouth shut when the occasional wealthy customer asked. If she didn't say anything, it wasn't lying, and Anya knew she could stay quiet if she really had to. If there was money involved, anyway. Maybe. Irritated, she slammed the stone down on the counter a little harder than she should have.
Still, that was no reason for it to shatter into tiny pieces! With a wail of dismay, Anya fled the shop, stopping just long enough to lock the door and turn the sign to "Closed". Years of financial security, gone in the blink of an eye! She needed a drink.
********
Willow batted ineffectually at the flying object with a pillow, only to have it shredded into bits of fluff for her troubles. The silvery device whirled its blades and dove for her again.
Magic. She needed magic. But she was trying to stay off the magic.
The levitating buzzball sped by her head, chopping off a stray lock of hair as she lunged to her left and out of the way. "This isn't fair! If I'm not using magic, people shouldn't be attacking me with magic! I mean, that's only right and just, isn't it? The karmic balance and everything?"
Not paying the least bit of attention to her perfectly logical reasoning, the silvery object pursued her into the kitchen. Willow grabbed a frying pan and swatted it with all her might...which, she figured, ought to be pretty considerable after all these years fighting at a vampire slayer's side. With a hideous chunk! the blades penetrated straight through the cast iron, only to grind to a halt. Willow stared, eyes wide, as the ball whirred and rattled for a moment before falling still at last.
Gingerly, she laid a finger on the side of the ball. The object fairly tingled with magic, shimmering beneath her touch, but failed to leap into action and chop off her hand. Before she could scoop it up, though, it shimmered again and evaporated into mist. The magical residue vanished almost immediately.
Pouting, Willow stalked out of the room. No one was going to like seeing her at the Magic Box, but research was research. And if she snitched a little power from something or other, who'd notice?
********
Dawn came down from her room some time later, having finally located the homework she was supposed to be finishing. She paused briefly at the end table, seeing a videotape lying there. What's this for? she wondered. Shortly before her mother's death, they'd replaced their ailing VCR with a DVD player and given away the remaining tapes. She picked up the video, searching for a label, but there was nothing to see. "Oh well." She shrugged and dropping it into the trash.
Buffy was sprawled on the living room couch. Having come home early from the Doublemeat Palace, she'd meant to spend some time helping Dawn with homework, but apparently she'd been too tired. Dawn sighed and headed past the couch on her way to an easy chair...then noticed that her sister seemed unnaturally still. She wasn't breathing. Dawn yelped and grabbed Buffy's arm, feeling for a pulse.
********
The scarred madman leaned idly on his shovel. This had all been much too easy; he could have gotten away with just being present in the dream and this girl would have practically killed herself. But assuming the role of the vampire shoving her into the grave had been so much more fun. He could feel her delightfully powerful soul, energizing him. "This time," he chuckled, "I get to do the burying."
A hand burst from the freshly-turned earth and seized his ankle in an unbreakable grip. Before he could try whacking it with the shovel edge, the rest of the girl emerged, all but exploding from the grave beneath him. She hurled his shovel into the distance, seized him by the shoulders, and slammed his head down into her own tombstone, sending his hat flying.
"Y'know something?" she lisped. "I'd have expected any monster with half a brain to stay out of my nightmares by now." Her face had grown deformed, but symmetrically--it clearly wasn't covered in burns like his own. "And this?" The girl drove a hand deep into his chest. "Go get your own." Ripping her soul free of him, she vanished from the dream.
Maybe he'd try another spot. After all, every town did have an Elm Street.
********
Dawn was just about to start CPR when Buffy jackknifed upright, gasping for breath on her own. "Whoa. So much for the absence of horror in horror movies."
Dawn stared at her. "You were dead. I mean, you were dead again!" A sudden thought struck her and she grabbed Buffy's arm, checking for a pulse a second time. But Buffy's heart was definitely racing. "Okay, not a vampire. Or a zombie or anything."
Buffy frowned back at her little sister. "How'd you know what I was dreaming? Except this time the vampire who turned me was Freddy, from those eighties movies."
"Freddy? The guy who gets into people's nightmares and makes them real?" Dawn thought she must be looking awfully pale. "I'm telling you, Buffy, you were dead. I checked. You ought to still be dead, whether it was a dream monster or something else."
With a grunt, Buffy rose from the couch. "Same old nightmare about being a vampire. I guess there aren't any undead on Elm Street." She doubted Dawn was joking; her recent death was still too raw and new for that. "What brings movie monsters to life?"
"I got nothin'," Dawn admitted. Then, thinking, she added, "But it's a good thing we don't have a VCR any more." She crossed the room, headed for the trash can.
But the videotape had disappeared.
********
Willow had reached the Magic Box only to find a squad car waiting outside the shattered glass door. The officers studying the presumed crime scene were the low-level, skeptical sort, scoffing at her mention of actual mystical forces being possibly involved. Apparently the store had been closed at the time, so Anya probably wasn't in any danger, but one of the officers let slip that it looked like the door had been burst from the inside. Willow knew what that meant--something they'd been selling had gone sour in a bad way.
So much for information on floating metal balls. She wasn't getting inside any time soon. Grumbling to herself, she set off back down the street after being asked a few questions.
Just a block away, a balding man in a business suit who'd been standing near another storefront suddenly approached her. "Pardon me, young mistress. Would you happen to know whose establishment that is? I was hoping to...conduct some business there."
Willow frowned. Almost everyone who visited the Magic Box knew by now that Anya was running the place. Still, every now and then they did get people from out of town. "Anya Jenkins. She's a friend of mine. Well...sort of."
"I see, I see." He frowned back at her. "Perhaps you could help me locate her? I do have have an urgent matter to settle."
"Um...sorry." That didn't sound like a very good idea. Anya had a number of demonic acquaintances, not all of whom still liked her a great deal, and this fellow had a strangely formal way of talking. "I don't think she'll be selling anything until the store re-opens anyway. But I'm sure if you wait she'll be happy to let you buy whatever you want."
"Actually, I was hoping to make her an offer. Ah well. You did seem to be on your way there yourself, however. Did you wish to make a purchase?" This guy was seeming creepier by the minute.
Willow decided to brush him off and mention him to Anya and Buffy later. "No, I just wanted to talk. I needed some information, that's all."
"Are you certain? I might be able to provide you with that information. Or, indeed, anything else you might be looking for."
She groaned. Obviously the man was a snake-oil salesman trying to peddle bootlegged or second-hand magic charms. Anya would never buy anything from him, but she'd be annoyed to have him cutting into her business. It was people like him who ruined magic's reputation in the first place. "The only thing I want," she snapped, "you can't give me."
Shrugging, he replied as pleasantly as ever, "And how would you know, unless you ask?"
Glaring, Willow answered, "I just want my girlfriend to be okay with me doing magic. Think you can fix that?" She spun on her heel and marched away, prepared to put him in a world of pain if he hassled her any further.
So naturally she failed to hear his murmured response. "Done."
********
There was something hard under his back...
Right. The floor. Spike was lying on the floor. Why was that?
There'd been some kind of egg in his crypt. Only, clearly it hadn't been a Suvolte egg, or he'd have been in little pieces. Maybe very small pieces, if it'd taken his head off.
"Alright then." Whatever it was, best not to lie here waiting for it. He was most of the way to his feet before noticing the dead husk lying in a corner. The creature resembled a pair of hands joined at the base, with a whiplike tail. Where had he seen...?
Waitaminnit. These things weren't real. Spike picked up the corpse, scowling. The shell had the hard, dry feel of an insect's corpse, though of course the body was much heavier.than any natural insect. Prying off a finger--or a leg, whatever it was--he took a deep breath. Smelled caustic, sure enough, though most of the blood had dried up.
It must have been clamped around his face. Of course, he wasn't alive, properly speaking, but there was no telling how the things worked, what with they weren't even real an' all. If all it had to do was chomp on his insides, he was at least in for a spot of pain.
He hadn't even been able to get his chip removed. The so-called "Scoobies" might make an effort to stop a killer beast from bursting out of his chest...or they might just stake him to get at it. He was a killer beast too. More or less...no, none of that! He was!
Spike was just going to have to deal with the little bugger himself.
********
Buffy spun and kicked over yet another zombie. "Brains," it moaned. Great...just great. As if the real-life, non-brains-eating kind weren't bad enough. No guns on hand to blow its head off, either.
"Really? Lemme fix that up for you." She bent over and drove a stake through the creature's eye. "There. No more brains. Happy?"
She'd been trying to get to the Magic Box with Dawn, where hopefully they could figure out how to get rid of movie monsters that had been brought to life. Buffy was sure it had to be a spell, or maybe some kind of gizmo, because this was way too much the geek squad's MO to be a demonic attack.
"Xander!" Dawn shouted. Sure enough, their own personal geek was trotting towards them, limping and panting a little.
"Guys, I hate to say it," Xander choked out, "but I think I've changed my mind again about clowns. Clowns bad. Evil clowns. Well, one evil clown anyway."
Buffy winced. "If you got away from Pennywise or whatever his name is, I'll consider that a major accomplishment."
"Actually he didn't see me." He shrugged sheepishly. "When I saw him through the peephole, I went out the window instead. Where's Willow? I thought I saw her over here."
Dawn shook her head. "Not with us. But we're on the way to the Magic Box...she might be trying to meet up with us."
Xander sighed. "Hate to say it, but I'm not loving the magic-less Willow at this point. This could kinda get ugly without all our big guns on deck." Sucking in a deep breath, he made as if to start running again, but a cry from the other side of the street halted the group.
"No rest for the weary," Buffy grumbled, leaping onto the roof of a parked car with a loud bang. Startled, the velociraptor on the trunk of the car in front turned to face her, releasing a loud snarl. "Sorry, pal, but that gig's not for you. Vampires sound way better when they do that."
The angry predator leaped at her feet-first, claws outstretched. Instead of ducking or trying to run, Buffy lunged forward and yanked a leg from under it as it fell. Landing lopsided on the roof, it tottered sideways with a crack of snapping bone. "Ouch! Better get that looked at quick. All sorts of hungry critters out tonight." The crippled reptile hissed and moaned, writhing but unable to get to its feet, and she turned her back on it, casually hopping down toward the other car.
Willow emerged from the sedan, looking nervously around. "Those things hunt in packs. Well...in the movies, they do, but I'm not sure that..." She paused, seeming to consider. "Um, just keep an eye out?"
Buffy nodded. "Magic Box, right?"
With a guilty shrug, Willow agreed. "Got to figure out some way to stop this. I figure if it has to be a spell, we can get...I mean, Tara can..."
"Will, calm down." The breakup had taken a lot out of her friend. "We'll be fine. I'm sure Tara can manage, and she'll understand why you needed to meet us there instead of somewhere else." The redhead gave her a doubtful look, but nodded. "We'll take out the source and Sunnydale will go back to...well, what passes for normal."
"Will it, now?" cackled a voice from a second-story window, producing a grimace from Willow.
"Um, Will," Xander whispered, "I'm thinking just this one time you might have to do a little magic." But Willow stammered something noncommittal and seemed to freeze in place.
The mummy-like sorceress at the window chortled evilly at them. "Is this what you call an army? You're not warriors...."
"Willow!" It wasn't something Buffy wanted to ask of her, but at this point the alternative was looking worse. "Take her..."
"Aperchome!" The command seemed to strike Bavmorda with physical force. The witch cried out and toppled back from the window. "Um, we should g-get out of here?" Tara suggested. "I d-don't think that will stop her for long."
"Great save, Tara!" Xander's relief was obvious, not to mention entirely understandable. "I thought we were all bacon."
"It was nothing," she responded modestly. "But Willow, why didn't you do anything?"
Willow blinked, startled and uncomfortable. "I...I guess I was going to. If I had to. I wouldn't have thought you'd have wanted me to..."
"G-get turned into an animal? It's okay, Will...one witch as a rat is bad enough." Tara frowned. "Maybe I should have tried that. I could give her a taste of her own medicine." Willow seized her by the hand and pulled her onward. "Or not?"
"Don't worry about it, Tara," Dawn supplied. "If we meet up with her again, you can try it then."
********
"Imagine meetin' you here."
"What? I'm a demon too. Well...ex-demon. I have a perfect right to come in here." Anya looked a little flustered, but not for anything he'd said.
"Right, and enjoy the yak urine? Last I heard, your taste buds were too human for what Willy's got on tap." Spike tossed back another glass of pig's blood. He knew he shouldn't--there was a very bad reason for the gnawing hunger in his gut--but he was alternating with a mix of spirits-and-alkali that he hoped would knock any critter with acid for blood for a loop.
"I'll have you know that Willy has some very good whiskey. He just doesn't advertise it, so humans don't come in and get themselves into trouble." Anya seemed not to be including herself in that group, without much justification that he could see. She beckoned Willy over. Smelled human enough to him, and he didn't plan to test himself whether it was true. "The truth is I wasn't really thinking," she said in a much softer voice, enough that most of the beings in the bar probably didn't quite hear. "I just lost a very large amount of money." Well, now...that would do it.
Spike downed a sixth glass of battery fluid--not for the squeamish, but perfectly good nourishment for Taranak demons, and mostly harmless to him. "Figures as..." A burst of pain shot through his chest, and he clutched at it, leaning forward over the bar.
"Hey, now," Willy grumbled, "you don't wanna get sick on my bar, y'hear? Go an' do that outside."
"'m not sick!" he shouted, realizing even as he did that no one would buy that. Might not even be true, exactly.
"Spike!" Anya sounded annoyed as ever. "What have you gone and gotten yourself into this time? Or gotten into yourself, I should say," she corrected, seeing the circle of blood forming on his shirt.
"Get back!" he growled. There was no point in her getting hurt. Anya wasn't such a bad... The pain exploded as something erupted from his chest, looking from side to side and gnashing tiny teeth. It wriggled free and leaped onto the bar, hissing fiercely.
With a startled smile, Clem darted forward, grabbed the little alien, and popped its head into his mouth, biting down. "Ha! Spike, if I'd known you were bringing me a snack...well, anyway, consider that five-kitten debt settled. Thanks!"
The brief moment of surprise passed, and chatter erupted from the nearby tables again. Never a dull moment at Willy's place.
********
"We know it's not a demon," Buffy insisted.
"It could be a demon," Dawn retorted. "They've summoned demons before, remember?"
"But it's still the geeks," her sister maintained, "so we need to be finding counterspells." She already had her hands full just dealing with the side effects. Fighting a real demon in addition could become a problem. Simpler just to send the thing back where it came from, if that was what it was.
Tara shook her head. "Sending it back won't solve a problem, if it's a demon. Something with this kind of power would have to reverse the effect deliberately. That m-means one of us will have to face it down."
"Anyone getting a familiar vibe on this?" Xander interrupted. "It sorta seems a lot like that time our nightmares started coming to life. Only this time, it's everybody's nightmares."
The blond witch gave Xander a startled look. "Actually, that makes sense. These things come from the collective unconsciousness, just not the individual one." Tara glanced at Willow, then looked away again as Willow acted as if she might say something.
Dawn had a question. "If it's a powerful spell or something, are you sure you can end it by yourself? I mean, I don't want Willow to do any magic she doesn't have to, but if the whole world is going to fold up into...the horror-movie realm or something anyway, I don't see how a maybe-problem from one of us can make it worse." Buffy placed a hand on her sister's arm and started to speak.
"It's okay," Tara insisted before Buffy could get a word in. "I had it all wrong about Willow." She reached over and put an arm around the redhead's shoulder. "See, flesh is a t-trap. And magic...it sets you free."
Buffy stared at her. "Huh?"
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