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The Witch Queen of Sunnydale And The Demon Bikers
Being a Sequel to The Witch Queen of Sunnydale
by Jixer
Spoilers: Kind of Season Sux
Feedback: Need you even ask?
Distribution: Any free fanfic site as long as I am notified.
Disclaimer: The characters of BtVS and their surroundings are the property of Mutant Enemy, fat lot of good it did them. Always return the borrowed characters with a full tank of gas.
The patrol had gone about as planned. The five of them were getting about one vampire per coffee drink in the group. Buffy had dispatched three, Willow one with a somewhat overstated fireball, and one had tripped over Spike’s duster and impaled himself on the fragments of a pallet. Xander and Spike were arguing whether the killed counted when four vampires sprang a ragged ambush. Tara and Willow had fire spells ready but the words were never spoken. Buffy became a blur. Only Spike could see the Slayer ripping the heads off the vamps.
“That’s weird,” Buffy said as she nearly vibrated to a stop. “What brought that on?”
A fifth vampire leapt out at the Slayer clumsily. She turned and kicked at him but missed widely. The creature hit her once and Buffy crumpled to the ground. Willow and threw up her hands with a wordless cry of anger and anguish. The vampire burst into flame and became a pile of glowing ashes in the blink of an eye. Tara knelt beside Buffy and closed her eyes.
“Buffy!” Spike shouted as he tried to get past Tara to Buffy. “Let me at her!”
“Back!” Tara demanded and Spike took a step back before he realized it. “She’s alive, but weak.”
“Like she used up all her power at once?” Xander asked as he took off his jacket and handed it to the blonde witch.
“We need to talk to Giles,” Willow said as calmly as she could. “Let’s get her home.”
“We’re closer to our dorm,” Tara pointed out.
“Okay,” Willow said unhappily.
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In the alley the sixth vampire strained to hear all the words as the little group helped the hated Slayer up. He missed the words the blonde witch had said but caught the others as they bracketed the unsteady Slayer and walked off.
He looked at the remains of the others in his pack and shrugged.
“I know somebody who will pay for this info,” he muttered happily.
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“I’m fine,” Buffy said and winced as her mouth moved.
“Right,” Tara said dabbing gently the small girl’s split lip while Willow placed an ice pack on Buffy’s swelling eye and cheek.
“What happened?” Spike demanded again.
“I’m not sure,” Willow replied.
Miss Kitty came in and sat behind all the humans. She looked at the Slayer and sighed inwardly. For all their skill and ability sometimes her human witches missed the basics.
*Her aura,* Tara and Willow both believed they thought at the same time.
“Oh,” Tara said unhappily.
“Yikes,” Willow said softly. “Buffy, your aura’s pulsing and shifting like crazy.”
“I’m a Slayer,” Buffy said tightly trying not to move her mouth. “You said it’s weird before.”
“Not like this,” Tara said with concern.
*Just how long has she been a Slayer?* came to Xander’s mind.
“How long have you been the Slayer?” Xander asked.
“Six years,” Buffy answered.
“No other Slayer lasted past four years before,” Spike added with a hint of pride.
“Okay, that’s enough questions,” Tara insisted as Buffy trembled. “We’re going to call Giles and get her home. I’m staying with her tonight.”
“We’re staying with her tonight,” Willow corrected.
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After the humans had gone Miss Kitty Fantastico, as she was known to her humans, tucked her paws under her and began her memory song. Her purr was low and steady. She thought of Slayers. In the past they had occasionally come to the Hellmouth, wherever it was at the time. Almost always they had been driven children, rude and hurried for their time was not long. They were useful, much like ladybugs in a garden, keeping down the pests that gravitated to the nexus of evil. This one had at least been polite and had a sister who was a very polite and respectful bundle of energy. All things considered she thought fixing this one would be in her best interests.
Miss Kitty’s purr became louder.
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As the night was ending the fugitive vampire finally arrived at a roadhouse off the beaten track. He passed the motley collection of motorcycles and took an unneeded deep breath before pushing the door open with what he thought was a move full of bravado. He strode into the room. A demon with scales and too many teeth frowned.
“No public restrooms,” the demon growled.
“I’m here to see your boss,” the vampire sneered.
“Bad idea,” another demon said behind him.
“Wait a minute!” the vampire pleaded. “You don’t have to avoid Sunnydale anymore!”
“Sunnydale?” the large demon asked in a perplexed voice. “Yo, Bob! What’s in Sunnydale?”
“The Hellmouth, a decent magic shop, and a slightly depressed local infrastructure,” a somewhat corpulent demon recited from the pinball machine. “Oh, and a Slayer. That’s about it.”
“A Slayer?” the chief demon grunted. “Could be a bit more specific? Dragon slayer? Demon slayer? Auditor Slayer?”
“A vampire Slayer!” the vampire growled.
“So who isn’t?” the demon asked as he ripped the vampire’s head off.
“She has killed some demons,” Bob said after draining his beer. “And a demigod from some hellish dimension ended up dead around her witches.”
“Well, it’s a diversion if not much of a challenge,” the chief demon shrugged. “We ride after sunset.”
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Rupert Giles looked haggard as he searched through the not inconsiderable trove of Slayer lore at his disposal. He knew the search was in vain. No one had ever even heard of a Slayer living as long as Buffy. He finally picked out a book of healing rituals and headed over to the Summer’s residence.
Willow opened the door at his knock and he entered without invitation as was polite in Sunnydale. Giles looked upstairs as Willow closed the door behind him.
“Don’t worry,” the tired redhead said. “Tara’s stabilizing her.”
“How long can she do that?” Giles asked handing Willow the book.
“About an hour longer than I can,” Willow answered. “We’ve been doing it in shifts. You didn’t find anything specific to Slayers, did you?”
“I’m afraid not,” Giles sighed. “Slayers are a lot like trophy wives, interchangeable after a few years.”
“You don’t repair them, you replace them,” Willow said darkly as she took the book. “Do you think this will help?”
“I’m not sure,” the Watcher said sagging just slightly. “I was rather hoping it would inspire one of those clever insights that lead to a new spell that you and Tara do so often.”
“Giles, it’s not that easy,” Willow said as she leafed through the pages. “We just don’t...hey, that could apply here, especially if we change a couple of things.”
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“Let me get this straight,” Buffy said looking at her best friend. “I’m de-laminating?”
“That’s just an example,” Willow insisted. “You’re Slayer stuff and your body are separating. That’s the big thing.”
“But I felt as weak as a kitten out there,” Buffy said unhappily. “Am I that out of shape?”
“No,” Tara responded gently. “It’s just that Buffy without the Slayer hasn’t been working out for six years.”
“You’d be like somebody in a coma,” Willow interjected. “A real coma, not a Hollywood coma.”
“Sounds icky,” Buffy said as she sat up in bed. “What’s the plan?”
“Well, its not really a plan,” Willow said hesitantly.
“You always have a plan,” Buffy teased. “What’s this one?”
“Okay,” Willow said meeting her friend’s eyes. “Who do you trust?”
“You, Tara, Giles, Anya with money, Xander to be Xander,” Buffy said ticking off her friends on her fingers. “Why?”
“It’s complicated,” Tara said gently. “Where do you feel safest?”
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Miss Kitty nodded as she listened long distance to her human witches’ explanation of their cure. She thought they had the meat of it and their skill would fill in the rest. She was concerned for their safety since they would be isolated in their shield. The Witch Queen leapt to Tara’s desk and gazed into the crystal ball.
*Nothing the mundane ones can’t handle* she thought as she looked at the current situation in Sunnydale’s busy graveyards. *One vampire newbie and a Jurnan demon.*
She took a quick look into the area’s future. Her tail began to twitch.
*Oh bother!*
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Tara and Willow looked into Joyce’s old room. It smelled closed in and dusty, a forgotten showplace. Neither of the Summer girls had been in here in weeks, if not months.
“This isn’t what Joyce would have wanted,” Willow said softly.
“No,” Tara agreed. “We need to clean this up for tonight.”
“I’ll clean,” Willow said running her hand over a dusty shelf. “You get the stuff for tonight.”
“Anya knows her herbs,” Tara said thoughtfully. “I’ll run my recipe past her.”
“Okay,” Willow said pushing away a drape and opening a window. “Just be ready at sunset.”
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The Witch Queen had called out Willow’s science books and was prowling them taking mental notes. She tried a few spells with her new knowledge and was satisfied with the results. Then she tried an old spell with her new twist. The results were better than she hoped.
*They’ll come up the old Turner Avenue approach* she thought as she called forth a portal. *The downgrade should work.*
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Both witches could see the Summers girls’ hesitation about entering their mother’s old room. They stopped and glanced at the soft candles glowing along with the golden light of sunset. Buffy looked outside and turned back to Willow.
“Spike’s with the others and Dawn is here,” Willow said before Buffy could speak. “Things are as good as they can be made.”
“What do I do?” Dawn asked quietly.
“You’re part of the grounding and you’re family nearby,” Tara explained. “It helps bring calm and ease the healing process.”
“Okay,” Dawn agreed.
“First we’ll weave a shield to block out all distractions,” Willow said with a hint of eagerness.
The redhead and Tara kissed lightly and then intwined their fingers.
Without the din of even-tide
Within all healing shall abide
Held ‘til the moon in half does rise
And be made gentle in your eyes
In the dying light Buffy and Dawn both saw tiny lights, little more than bright motes of dust begin to dance in the edges of the room. Tara uncorked a small bottle. The scent was light and drew Buffy to memories of farmers markets her parents had taken her to every summer before the evils of the night had been known.
“I hold the shield,” Willow said seriously.
“I call the healing,” Tara intoned after her.
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In the dying light a small black and white cat might have been seen near the rarely used county road that turned into Turner Avenue. The animal stopped every once in a while and seemed to paw at the dirt. Since the only person in town who could read cuneiform was preparing to go on patrol for vampires several miles away no one would puzzle at the ancient script and the ideas of calling forth purified gases.
Giles would have thought the spell of hot emotions seemed much more suited to the language.
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“Let’s roll!” the head demon growled as he lead his crew to their bikes. “We’re burning starlight!”
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Buffy was on her stomach, draped by large soft towels. Tara began to rub the oil into her hands and chant softly. She climbed onto the bed and moved the towels, then began moving her hands over Buffy’s back in rhythm with the chant. As Tara moved over Buffy’s prone form she was careful to move the towels to keep Buffy warm.
She’s too thin, Tara thought to herself. She’s wearing herself out.
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Buffy was in a state of almost sleep. All she had in her mind was Tara’s soothing touch and soft music. As Tara’s hands glided over her rump to the back of her thighs unknown tensions melted away. Buffy turned herself languidly at Tara’s unspoken command, unconcerned about her nakedness. As Tara began to work up her torso Buffy could feel Willow’s steadying presence. Tara cupped Buffy’s sex and her breasts protectively, the song becoming more stern.
Yes, Mom, Buffy thought idly.
Then Tara was stroking up her neck to a small chorus of popping noises from the Slayer’s bones. The touch of fingers on her face and running through her hair seemed to make Buffy’s hearing more acute. Willow was chanting also, very slowly but the two were in a harmony more felt than heard. Buffy lost herself in the music.
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Dawn saw Tara begin to sweat with her efforts. The air around the bed had the hint of a golden glow. Then the moonlight came through the window and it seemed to the teen that Tara became motionless, a marble statue of a woman caring for another. Then the image passed and Tara was drawing Buffy’s hands into her own.
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The demons were barely a mile from Sunnydale when they heard the voice.
*Go back and live, barbarians*
“Scary, bitch,” the leader laughed into the night. “You cute?”
*People have said so frequently*
“Then I’m eager to meet you,” he snarled. “So are my boys.”
*Are they eager to meet the virgins of this town?* the voice asked levelly. *And the gold as well, I assume?*
The reply were yells and howls of excitement.
*You seem to be breaking the speed limit* the voice observed dryly.
“Every law including gravity!” the leader laughed as he gunned his engine.
*I doubt it*
The leader looked ahead and saw a pair of green eyes reflecting the light from his headlight in the middle of the road ahead.
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The Witch Queen of Sunnydale looked down the road at her marks as they glowed with the passage of the demons’ bikes. Greed and lust were on the upper edge of the scale and a blue haze surrounded the gasoline tanks of the bikes in her other-sight. The demons were speeding along when they hit the ward against hot emotions she had crafted across the road. The warding spell drained off the heat of the emotions in a millisecond and dumped them into the cooler, now oxygen filled spaces of the mostly empty gasoline tanks. The thundering herd of bikes became a flaming chaotic ballet as tanks ruptured with great energy and flames poured out on areas best left unburned. A rolling tire of flame headed lazily out of the screaming mass of dying, burning demons toward her only to fall over at the last moment.
*How traditional* she observed.
“I’ll kill you,” groaned the leader through his tears.
*No,* Miss Kitty replied. *Your species must have better arterial placement than most bipeds but there was lot of flying metal around your groin. I’ll bet that handgun is very heavy and you’re so cold*
The demon dropped the gun and expired from the burns and the blood loss from the deep cut in his equivalent of a femoral artery. There was nothing living in the flames before her. She saw the grass and brush near the fire begin to smoke. She looked up and twitched her tail unhappily.
*They’re rubbing off on me,* Miss Kitty sighed. *Very well. Let the rain come forth*
Then Witch Queen of Sunnydale scrambled for the portal she cast as the first drops landed on the inferno.
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Buffy only barely registered the soft touch that guided her to lay on her side. Willow knelt in front of her, Dawn stood by her feet and Tara reached for Willow’s hand from where the blonde witch was kneeling behind the Slayer. When her friends touched Buffy knew she was safe and fell asleep before she could sigh her contentment.
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The others arrived about an hour afterwards to find Tara leaning over a chair as Willow rubbed her back. Giles brewed up a pot of tea and poured a generous mug for both girls as Anya bolted for the bathroom.
“Was it a success?” he asked.
“Her aura is stable and it looks like Buffy,” Willow said. “Dawn’s with her now and we’ll stay the night.”
“Which looks like a good idea,” Xander said. “Tara, you look beat.”
“Massage was part of the ritual,” Tara took a long sip of tea. “It feels good to do it but it takes a lot out of you when you add healing.”
“I think I’m incredibly jealous of Buffy,” Anya said as she returned. “I think I sprained something with that vampire.”
“You keep choking up to much,” Xander said. “Let the swing flow.”
“Come here,” Tara said beckoning to seat in front of her.
“Bloody Hell,” Spike muttered as Tara began positioning Anya. “Next thing you know we’ll be doing our nails.”
“Pink could be your color,” Xander said evilly.
“Pipe down guys,” Willow admonished. “Buffy needs to sleep.”
“Right,” Xander said in a whisper. “Oh, did you guys make it rain?”
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The Witch Queen of Sunnydale looked out the dorm window at the patterns in the dispersing clouds and let herself touch her humans. They were tired and locked into the endless chatter that primates seemed to love so much, but she could tell they had been successful. She looked out gently through their eyes and studied the place they were in. The kitchen was quite attractive, and there were good perching windowsills.
*Time to think about moving* she thought as she folded her paws under her and then drifted off to a light sleep.
The End
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