i’ve got my work cut out with you you tore bits out of me your carpetburns and bruises blue are there for all to see
This was supposed to be a simple arrangement; show up, get the girl, leave. But, no, she had to be difficult, had to be all la-dee-bleedin’-da happy, friends and family all over the place like those cannon fodder missionaries in the Boxer rebellion.
Of course, they simply refused to die. The only one they’d got was the teacher, and she wasn’t really the point of this exercise.
The point? The slayer.
Who also simply refused to die. He’d tried a big stick first, and an invasion of her parent-teacher conferences. He’d tried assassins, demons, fires, sacrifices, out and out fighting....and nothing had ever worked.
Her most recent challengers were now laying under a pile of rubble across the room, after she had drawn on the strength of the other slayers and pummeled Glory (or whatever her name was, something long and pompous, no doubt) forcing them to succumb to her enhanced abilities. Spike knew what it was like to give in to her, his powerful glorious Slayer.
He’d given his cunning, his hate, his insults, his fists, his past, and finally, firstly, his heart.
Drusilla knew it on the first day she’d seen Buffy.
She’ll infest you, Spike, like a fetish, or a pox, rip your eyes out soon...do you think you’ll ever win her?” Her eyes had tears in them as she continued in a wail, “Spike, my boy, my dear dear monster...”
He’d left the room then, knowing her words for true, and heading to the school for that first fateful encounter. Of course, she’d won that time, and everytime thereafter, because he was weak enough to let her touch him. He should never have gotten involved with this one.
He knew her eyes were open.
Spike had never ever helped Buffy before (to her knowledge) and she was honestly shocked to see his blond head bobbing up and down in between the demon monks that were Glory’s cronies. The one Buffy was squaring off with regained her attention by taking a potshot at her belly while she was staring at the wiry blond vampire. He connected, bending Buffy over in pain, and the monk’s arm swept up to deliver a crushing blow to her back.
The thug’s fist was stopped midair by a pale white hand. “You’re swingin’ at me girl, mate.” Spike snarled at the man, twisted his arm behind his back, and tossed him at an oncoming pair of demons, who crashed to the floor beneath them on impact.
“Spike, what the hell are you doing here?” Buffy shouted at him as she hip-tossed a monk, then blocked a swing from another and punched him in the face.
The momentum of Buffy’s punch moved the monk over to Spike, who grabbed and threw him onto the pile of monks behind.“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m saving your little blond ass is what I’m doing!”
“What if I don’t want your help?” She snapped another cronie’s arm back, breaking it, kicked up to his face, and connected with a fist, dropping him to the floor.
A huge monk appeared in the doorway as he fell, pointing at Buffy and flexing his muscles as Glory moved closer to the altar where Tara, Willow, and Anya lay motionless, their auras glowing brightly in a spray of pink-gold. The ancient demon brandished a sword in one hand, with which she frantically gestured to the giant, “Kill, them, Thobicus!”
Buffy’s face fell as the giant moved betweern her and the altar. Buffy could see Glory moving closer to her friends behind him, and her face fell. “What now?”
“You go, slayer, I’ll take care of the big guy.” Spike said.
Buffy turned to look at him. “Are you serious?”
“Go!” He shouted, pushing her to one side, and saying to the huge demon, “I hope you’re ready, wanker.”
Buffy sprinted to the right and jumped as hard as she could, tackling Glory and forcing her face to bang into the ground. The brunette’s head snapped up, glowing with her demon blood.
“I think you broke my nose.” Glory said matter-of-factly. “Now I’m pissed.”
Spike sat up, groaning and grabbing his head, and Buffy’s first instinct was to go to him. She looked around the room, saw the pile of rubble, saw her friends on the altar, out of immediate danger, saw Giles and Xander KOed in the other corner. She stood up and walked over to Spike, dusting herself off with dirty hands.
“Are you alright, Spike?” she asked softly, kneeling sown next to him.
“He blinked and shook his head. “Buffy. What happened?”
“Bifficus over there,” she said, gesturing to the now-headless giant, “Clobbered you with a table right after you cut the rope on the chandelier.”
“Oh. Ow.”
“I bet.”
“Bt it worked rather well, actually.”
“Why did you help me, Spike?” Buffy asked quietly, eyes downcast.
He paused, smiling a little. “Why not? I didn’t have anywhere else to be.”
“But I hate you.” She said, grinning.
“I know.” He said dryly. “I think I’m going to kiss you now.”
Buffy’s breath was hot on his cheek as she whispered, “I - I don’t -”
Then his hands were in her hair, and his mouth crushed hers.
and I can tell you’ve been through hell finally you wear it well it’s an accessory
Glory’s elbow smashed into Buffy’s midsection, compunding the pain in her already-injured ribs and knocking the breath out of her. The blonde reached for the sword in her opponent’s hands, and there was a brilliant flash of light from above.
Buffy’s body began to glow with the same radiant light as the witches’, and she sat up, throwing off Glory easily. Her head snapped back, and her eyes and mouth opened wide, glowing.
flicker
Hunt. Kill. Thrust. Poof. Stab. Explode.
Her brown hands destroyed the bad ones, over and over, every night, night after lonely night. Then one night she was too slow, and one got her.
flicker
She fought a vampire with streaming blond hair and a star of David burned into his forehead. She dimly remembered holding her pendant to his forehead, and the stench of burned dead flesh. Shenhazai, the vampire, snarled and came at her so fast she couldn’t see him.
His hands coiled around her neck, and she blindly stabbed forward with her stake. The blond demon shattered, screaming.
flicker
Lothos came at her furiously, slashing at her peasan’t skirts and brown hair. She muttered a low rhyme in Romani, and a burst of fire appeared on his cloak, singeing his eyebrows. He screamed and swatted at his face.
flicker
Black braids flew around her head as she swung a sword at Spike, and fires burned all around her as he smirked, swinging a fist towards her face. Her sword came up at him like a live snake, writhing and twisting towards his neck. He ducked as she spun a kick at him.
flicker
Drusilla kicked her in the stomach, and then pulled her head back, slashing her throat with a nail. The world went black
flicker
Buffy’s head was filled with skills, memories, stories...all the things all of the other slayers had known, heard, and done. Her body shook with strength, and her fingertips crackled with energy.
“I am Slayer! I am everything we have ever known, everything we have ever been!” She spun her foot up at Glory, kicking her into the air, just as the bladed chandelier swund to the apex of its arc, sawing her in half effectively. Her remains wiggled on the floor, then melted into a pool of goo.
The pool glowed darkly, melting together and beginning to take shape, growing in size until it formed a twenty-foot-tall black and red scaled dragon. “Meet your doom, puny Slayer! Behold the true nature of the Glorificant!”
Buffy picked up the sword.
it’s time to change your uniform and hand it on to me, to me
She rushed the dragon, jumping over its swinging tail and muttering words in a language she didn’t understand. Her eyes closed, and she gestured frantically in the air. The energy in her finger tips shone brightly, and a burst of lightning shot from them, smashing into the chest of her enemy. “Not fair!” Dragon-Glory shouted. “Slayers don’t use magic!”
Buffy smirked. “Neat.”
She was forced to duck out of the way of a huge claw, landing hard on the marble floor of the old Library. Her head snapped up again, and she began to float in midair over the altar where her prone friends stil lay in state, arms out to her sides, energy mingling with theirs. Her body began to glow with unearthly flames, and she murmured again in the strange language: “Sarama claitu ital!”
The four girls disappeared, and in their place appeared a spray of white light, which sliced into Glorificus, smoking and popping and rending her flesh. “You bitch!” the dragon screamed as the light began to swallow her.
Suddenly, it was over and the light and the dragon were gone.
and I dream one day I’ll find the one who lives inside my mind they feel the same way too we’ve all been used dazed, beautiful, and bruised dazed, beautiful, and bruised
Spike pulled away, embarrased, and Buffy stared into space, touching her lips. She silently got up and walked over to the altar. Her hands flew to her face. “Tara!”
The blond witch’s face was covered in blood, which had been streaming from her eyes and nose as she died from the bloody slash in her chest. Her heart had been removed: it lay on the slab above her head. Her eyes were open, her teeth bare in a rictus of pain.
Buffy screamed and dropped to the floor, vomiting.
Spike, seeing this, got up and rushed over to her. “What happened? Oh god...” His eyes widened as he said. “I’ve seen some sick things in my life, but...” He knelt down by Buffy, who was wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “We should get Willow out of here.”
Buffy nodded and stood, moving around to the side of the altar where the redhead lay, and easily lifting the small woman into her arms. Spike pulled Anya off the table too, and they carried out the sleeping victims. They lay them down on the ground and went inside to retrieve Giles and Xander.
Giles was standing over the altar, wiping her face with his handkerchief, and Xander was being sick in the opposite corner. He turned to Buffy. “How did this happen?”
“I --” Buffy swallowed. “I wan’t fast enough. I’m sorry.”
Giles put a comforting hand on her arm. “This wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known this would happen.”
“Tara...” Buffy said sadly. Giles had smoothed her face and closed her eyes, and now she lay, arms folded across her gaping chest, barely hiding the deep bloody wound. Her heart still lay above her head.
between the lines I think you’ll find lessons learned from alleys blind beauty can turn sour so recognise through all the lies the hero of the hour, the hour
Willow’s eyes opened, and she remembered.
Tara had screamed as the knife plunged into her chest, and Willow felt the blood spurt onto her arm. She’d screamed right along with her girlfriend, and she’d heard Tara whispering a prayer for Buffy just as she saw Buffy’s head snap back. They were glowing, all four of them, and Tara’s heart beat on as Glory pulled it out.
The chandelier swund over them, creating a breeze, and the heart landed on the altar, beating.
Willow felt Tara squeeze her hand, and then they began to glow brighter and brighter as Buffy floated over them, finally disappearing completely in a ball of light.
Tara directed the last of her life energy at the Glorificant, and had succeeded in killing it, her death pushing the spell at the dragon with greater force. She had given freely of her life so the world could be saved yet again.
Willow rolled over and sobbed into the dirt, and Anya snored on.
“She gave her life so we wouldn’t have to.” Anya said quietly. “She knew she was dying, and nothing would save her. She did it for us, and for Willow.”
They were crowded around the table in the magic shop, quietly sitting. The shock wouldn’t be wearing off anytime soon, and Giles had long since driven Willow back to her apartment. Spike and Buffy sat on opposite sides of the table, she with arms crossed, he with shoulders hunched, trying not to look at each other.
Xander sighed and stood up. “An, we should just go home. I’m tired.”
“I’m sad.” Anya replied. “And sleepy.”
Buffy took the shop keys from Anya’s hand. “I need to blow off some steam. I’ll lock up, you guys go on.”
Anya nodded and silently followed Xander out the door. Buffy followed them, keys in hand, and with a final “Be careful, you guys.” locked the door behind them, leaving herself alone with Spike.
and I dream one day I’ll find the one who lives inside my mind they feel the same way too we’ve all been used dazed, beautiful, and bruised dazed, beautiful, and bruised
He lit a cigarette, and took a long pull. “Pet? Are you sure you’re up for training right now?”
“I don’t know what else to do.” She said. “This is all my fault. This is getting too dangerous to have civillians around. They keep getting killed, and I can’t protect them all.”
Spike stood up, and moved over to her. “Buffy.”
She looked up at him. “Would you like to know the worst part? When I saw Tara laying there, I thought, At least it wasn’t Willow. That’s so horrible. Tara’s dead, and the only thing I feel is releif that it wasn’t someone else!”
Tears streamed down her face, and Spike gathered her into his arms. She let herself go and cried.
when there’s nothing nothing left to lose dazed beautiful and bruised
Across town, Willow lay asleep in Giles’ arms, on his tear-stained chest. He stroked her hair gently and sang a soft lullaby as she snored shakily.
dazed