Surprise
TITLE: Surprise
AUTHOR: Fyredansa
EMAIL: Fyredansa@hotmail.com
SUMMARY: Something scary is going on in the Hellmouth - death and junk for the scoobies - just a short, silly, icky ficcy.
FEEDBACK: Hey, if you like it, please comment. If not, I'll go and sulk in the corner.
DISTRIBUTION: Just here at the mo...but anyone can have it :-) Just ask nicely ;-)
SPOILERS: None as far as I know
COUPLE: B/A, S/W (implied)
RATING: Erm...A bit above PG13, but below the one above it...or something.
DISCLAIMER: Let me get this clear - if I owned these guys, do you THINK I would waste time writing? Ho no! ;-) These chaps and chapettes (chaps preferred) belong to Joss Whedon and all the other companies involved with the TV show. I should have asked for permission to use them, but I didn't and its too late now, so please don't sue me cos I'm poor!
CLASSIFICATION: Tis one of a very dodgy kind :)
NOTES: The ending is too abrupt. I could have draggd it out, but - to quote THE man - "I got so bored" (School Hard)
DEDICATED: Anyone who actually reads it :-D
_________________________________________
Sitting in the library, Giles sighed, leafing through one of the ancient books of lore, clouds of dust rising and floating around his head, the age of the yellowed pages more than obvious.
Trailing his finger down the scroll of runes, he rubbed his neck wearily.
The full moon shone in through the high windows, a pure beam of light illumninating his exhausted features, calling attention to the fact that he hadn’t slept since three nights before.
Something sinister was happening.
Well, something more sinister than usual, considering that they were sitting right on the Hellmouth anyway.
Buffy was out slaying, as per usual, but it wasn’t as as per usual as it usually was.
Xander was dead.
Oz was in a coma in hospital.
Taking off his glasses, he squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger, a slow sigh escaping him.
It wasn’t going to be long until there was another killing. It was the wiggens. Again. And the scooby gang were in some very serious trouble.
They hadn’t even realised how serious until Xander was found.
Exsanguinated.
Or to use a Buffy phrase – sucked out big time.
Although – hardly surprisingly – she hadn’t said that when Xander was found. She hadn’t said much. None of them had.
Accusations had flown and Oz had argued so heatedly with Buffy that he stormed out, only to show up at the school, almost completely drained, blood streaming from hideous gashes all over his body.
Things were getting worse by the day and there didn’t seem to be anything they could do about them at all.
Not a reassuring thought.
Tilting his head, he frowned.
Listening intently, he rose to his feet and he heard them again. Footsteps beyond the open door, quietly making their way down the hall.
Stepping into the corridor, he looked around, spotting a slight figure moving towards him hurriedly, a bag clutched in her slim little hands rocking back and forth as she walked faster.
“Willow?”
With her new-found tragic smile, she handed him the large bag. She missed Xander as much as – if not more than – the rest of them. “Buffy said you wanted me to bring these to you...just in case...”
“Thank you, Willow.” He took the bag carefully from her and released a sigh of relief. At least they would be safe now. “You know, you should get to safety now. I don’t like to think what could happen if you were out when....well...you know...”
Nodding, she turned, then glanced back at him with a weak smile. “Take care, Giles. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Ah...yes...” Nodding, distractedly, he watched her walk hurriedly down the dark hall. “Good night, Willow.”
*
Whirling around, she couldn’t see anyone.
But she knew they were there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Breaking into a frantic run, she knew she had to reach somewhere that was safe. A church. A home.
Anything. She didn’t have her cross. Her holy water had all but gone. No stakes. Nothing.
Then she heard the footfalls behind her, spurring her on to run faster and faster, building to a speed she never thought possible but still, it wasn’t fast enough, as a cruel hand grabbed her, whirling her around.
Staring at the shadowed face a burning rose in her throat as one hand twisted into her hair, pulling her head back, the other hand gripping her wrists relentlessly.
“Please...” She whispered. “Say its not you...please...”
“But it is, Will.” Canines slid into place, a cruel smile crossing the vampire’s face. “And I think its dinner time.”
Before she could cry out, she felt the burning sting of her flesh tearing and her blood flowing, hot and warm and no longer hers.
“Why?” She whispered as she fell into the darkness.
*
“Giles?” Buffy’s voice had a hysterical note he had never heard before. “Giles, please...I know you’re there...pick up the phone...please...”
“Uh?” Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at the clock beside the bed, scratching at the rash of stubble that had sprung up across his chin. Fumbling for the receiver, he picked up and mumbled. “Uh huh?”
“Giles, its Buffy. Where have you been? I need to talk to you.” Pausing to take a sobbing breath, she continued. “Willow’s dead. She got killed last night. Where are you? Can I come over?”
Glancing at the empty bottle of Scotch on his desk, he grimaced and rubbed his bleary eyes. “I’ll be at the library in...” He glanced at the clock again, just to double check. “Half an hour...I’ll see you there...”
Buffy gave a muffled sound of assent and hung up.
Giles shook his head with a sigh and groped for his glasses, sitting up. Flicking the light on, he pressed his eyes shut, the brightness intense.
“Hellmouth, Sweet Hellmouth.” He rolled to his feet with a sigh and started towards the shower.
*
Pacing back and forth across the floor, Buffy looked terrible.
Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying and lack of sleep, her clothes stained with blood and mud and heaven knows what else. A stake was being tossed loosely from hand to shaking hand.
Leaning over the desk, she whirled around as the door opened and Giles shambled in, looking as rough as she did.
His hair hung lankly at his head, a rough coating of stubble liberally sprinkled across his cheeks and chin, his eyes bloodshot and hazy.
“Have you been drinking?” She whispered hoarsely. “Cos if you have...you could be weaker...they know when you’re weaker...and you could end up...like...like...” Her tears streamed down her cheeks uncontrolled.
“Come here, Buffy.” He held out his hands.
Running to him, she dropped the stake and hugged him tearfully, his strong hand reassuringly stroking her matted hair, his arms securely around her.
Nestling in her watcher’s protective arms, she sobbed softly.
“Was it like Xander?” He asked asked, felling her stiffen at his voice.
Nodding, she swallowed hard. “Two punctures. In the throat. Drained. They both had the same expression on their faces. They both looked completely shocked...all cos I wasn’t there to help them...”
Squeezing her hand, Giles gazed at her with his ever-reassuring gaze. “You did nothing wrong, Buffy. You can’t blame yourself. You can’t be everywhere at once, you know.”
“What am I doing wrong?” She whispered. “Why can’t I stop whatever is killing my friends? Am I such a bad slayer?”
Sitting down on the edge of the desk, Giles sighed, resting his head against her shoulder, the top of his head resting against her chin.
“You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re a very good slayer. One of the best.” He replied with absolute certainty. “Maybe this vampire is someone you wouldn’t expect...someone unusual...”
“Next, you’ll be telling me its you.” She forced a laugh that was abruptly cut off as his teeth sank into her throat, her fists frantically pummeling against him, but the surprise had caught her completely off-guard.
“No, darling.” Giles purred throatily, letting her limp corpse fall to his feet, raising his hand to wipe a smear of blood from his lips. “Telling is no fun.” He prodded her with his foot and chuckled. “Surprise is the best idea.”
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