Pants On Fire
by Spring Summers 17-Jul-2004
Buffy had been good. She’d stayed away from Spike all day yesterday and most of today. But as she walked through the dark streets toward The Magic Box, she touched her new, shorter haircut and frowned. What good was it to cut her hair to spite him, if he never saw it? She had been invisible when she’d entered his crypt soon after the hair cut. And she didn’t think he had noticed her new hairdo during her visit – even though he’d had his hands in her hair often enough. She closed her eyes and could feel his hands pushed up into her hair and cradling her head, while he – Buffy gulped and forced her train of thought onto another track, deciding to wonder about tonight’s mystery meeting, instead. She was meeting with Xander, Anya, and Willow in response to a brief, urgent-sounding answering machine message from Anya.
When she arrived at the store, she found the three of them already sitting around the table. Books were scattered on the floor and around three large, open pizza boxes. The pizzas were half-eaten and a small cooler of iced, canned soft drinks sat on the floor between Xander and Willow.
“So,” said Buffy. “Pizza party or something more spooky?”
“Boojar Demon,” said Anya, “Very spooky. And very bad news. I think one’s in town.”
“Boo-jar?”
“Yeah,” said Willow. She wiped her greasy-pizza-hands on a napkin before picking up a large book. “It says here that they ‘kill with a long, drill-like aperture that can be extended from their left arm and slowly twisted into the victim.’ ”
Buffy grimaced as she sat down. “I don’t know what’s worse, that image or the smell of these anchovies,” she said. “I hate anchovy pizza.”
“Yes – but me like anchovies,” said Xander, pointing to his chest with a flourish. “There’s pepperoni and veggie for the more common folk.”
Buffy smirked at Xander and reached for a slice of veggie pizza before she turned to Anya. “What makes you think one of these - Boogers - is hanging out in Sunnydale?”
“Boojar,” said Anya, “And I think one’s in town because I found this thing out back this morning, in the alley.”
Anya carefully opened a small box that was sitting on the table near her. Buffy looked inside and saw a clear, many-sided crystal, the size of a small egg. It looked as if it had been placed in the center of the box with the navy blue handkerchief that still surrounded it. It glowed and twinkled with many multicolored lights, just like a prism with strong sunlight shining through it – except there was no sunlight.
“It’s beautiful,” said Buffy.
“Yes,” said Anya, “but–”
Buffy reached for the mesmerizing crystal. It shattered into dust as soon as she touched it and released a wisp of swirling colors that disappeared into Buffy’s arm with a jolt.
“- don’t touch it.” Anya finished her sentence with a loud, exasperated sigh. “Now you’ve really gone and done it, Buffy. You’ve shattered a Boojar crystal. You’re doomed. Doomed to tell nothing but lies until you die – or until the Boojar that spewed this crystal dies. Whichever comes first – which in your case, is probably going to be your death, because Boojars live for around 300 years.” Anya paused. “Though I guess this one could be 299 ½ years old already or something. That would be lucky.”
“What?!” Buffy eyes widened as she grabbed Willow’s book. She read for a moment then looked up at Anya: “It doesn’t say anything like that in here!” she said.
“Of course it does, you Liar,” said Anya.
“I am not lying!”
“See?” said Anya to Willow and Xander, “what did I tell you? Get zapped by a Boojar crystal, and you forever say the opposite of what you really think and feel.”
Willow took the book back from Buffy. She frowned with concern as she read more about the demon. “Uh – it looks like Anya’s right about this,” she said.
“Oh my God! This is fantastic!” said Buffy, looking panicked. “I hope we never find this demon, and it lives forever!”
“Uh – OK.” Xander shook his head to clear it. “So - so you – you wanna find this thing and kill it, right?”
“Of course not,” said Buffy.
Xander gave Buffy a small smile. “Buffster – I’ve always liked the fact that you were kinda mysterious and hard to figure out, but I think this is gonna get old real fast.”
“That is really funny,” said Buffy, “You’re hilarious.”
“Take it easy, Buffy,” said Willow. “The book says that this demon has a terrible, distinctive odor. And we know it’s been hanging around this part of town very recently. So we should be able to find it. It’s strong, but with The Slayer and the rest of us fighting it, and with lots of sharp and pointy weapons, we should be able to kill it.”
“And even if we can’t,” said Anya, nodding her head, “Buffy can still find success in life, in many important fields. Politics. Law. Journalism. I’ve seen it before.”
“Used car salesman,” said Xander, “TV Evangelist. Talk show host. Psychologist.”
“High priced call girl,” added Anya.
“Anya, you’re the most sensitive, pleasant, insightful person I ever met,” said Buffy.
Anya hit Xander on the arm. “Are you going to just sit there and let her talk to me that way?” she huffed. “Did you hear what she just said?”
“Ladies –”
“I think I have a question for you, Buffy,” said Anya, with a haughty little tilt of her head. “Do you think I’m the right woman to marry Xander?”
“I – uh-” Buffy looked at Xander’s surprised and expectant face. “I have to go to the bathroom!” she lied, as she rushed toward the small bathroom in the back of the store. She closed the door behind her. “I think Xander couldn’t possibly do any better than you, Anya,” she said weakly to herself as she stared at the mirror.
Oh, dear God. She couldn’t seem to keep herself from responding in some fashion or from responding with a lie – a lie which everyone knew was a lie, so everyone would try to figure out the truth from there. Oh, dear God.
Buffy splashed some water on her face and then used a paper towel to dry off. She had to find and kill this demon, and she had to find and kill it now. This was pure torture. She couldn’t say what she wanted to say, and she didn’t want to say what she did say. But Xander, Willow, and Anya were doing a pretty good job of understanding her – too good, actually. Buffy braced herself for another round of Truth or Consequences as she headed back toward her friends. She wanted their Scooby-help to track and kill the demon, but if communication didn’t improve and a plan wasn’t in place soon, she would go out on her own to find it.
“Feel better?” asked Willow.
“Never been better,” said Buffy. “No point in hurrying to come up with a plan. I’d love to just sit here all night.” She felt very much like crying. This had to stop.
“No need to get pissy, missy,” said Anya. “Xander’s already on it. He went out to get Spike.”
“Spike! That’s a wonderful idea!” Buffy swallowed. She couldn’t see Spike while she was like this. She just couldn’t – especially not around her friends.
“It actually is a good idea, Buffy,” said Willow. “I’d do a locator spell for you, but – well, I – I need to stay off the magicks. Besides, Anya says Boojar demons aren’t that uncommon, so Spike’s probably smelled one before. With that smell-sense of his, he can lead us right to it.”
“And he’s a good fighter. He was a big help all summer with the demon-fighting,” said Anya. “It’s a perfect plan. He’ll find the demon in no time, and then he’ll help us kill it.”
“But – but he’s – he’s repulsive!” said Buffy. Anya and Willow exchanged a look. “He makes me want to-” Buffy grabbed a piece of the anchovy pizza that was in the box nearest her, and stuffed it her mouth crust first, “-jaw-ah-kah.” Buffy gagged and coughed as she cleared the pizza out of her mouth with some napkins.
Anya looked at Willow: “He makes her want to – what? To juggle? What’s the opposite of juggling? Dropping things? He makes her want to drop things?”
“Listen,” said Willow, noticing Buffy’s alarmed face, “How about the three of us just research quietly until Xander gets back? We can all read up on Boojar strengths and weaknesses while we wait.”
“Bite me, Willow,” said Buffy. Willow’s mouth dropped open. Buffy moaned.
“Fine,” said Anya. “This conversation is making my head hurt anyhow.”
Buffy sighed with relief at the thought of some quiet time, and picked up a book. She found an entry about the Boojar demon, but she was still too flustered to read. She tried to calm herself with the thought that Spike knew better than to try to cause any trouble. I’ll kill him if he gives us away, thought Buffy. I’ll kill him, and he knows it.
Buffy tried to keep her anxiety to a minimum by getting up and gathering the weapons they’d need for the hunt. She’d just finished placing the last selection on the counter when The Magic Box’s entrance bell rang, and Xander and Spike walked into the shop.
Spike was looking directly at Buffy and smirking in that infuriating way of his. Buffy immediately threw him a glare that she hoped was saying all that she could not: “If you say one word out of line, or try to take advantage of this situation in any way, you die.” She gave it her all, but her effort at mind-control didn’t seem to be wiping the smirk off his face.
“OK,” said Xander, “I filled Spike in on the details, and he tells me that he has been around a Boojar Demon before, so he thinks he can help us out.”
“Yeah, definitely I can,” said Spike. “They’re smart, and they’re really good at hiding, but that’s not a scent you forget. I should be able to track it down. They are strong, and they’re slippery-like. But if we can find it, we can kill it. Then Buffy here can get back to telling the truth all the time, like she usually does – right, Slayer?”
“Right,” said Buffy.
Everyone turned to look at Buffy. She put her head in her hands and groaned. This just wasn’t going to work, especially if Spike was going to play games with her. How was she going to get through the next few hours without saying the wrong thing?
No one said a word until Xander finally broke the quiet. “Well – we might as well get started. I see you’ve prepared the weapons.” Xander picked up a large knife. “Everybody choose your poison and let’s play Follow The Vampire!”
“Yes, let’s,” said Buffy. “It is going to be so great doing this with all of you, while I can’t even control what I say. No problem. I can’t think of anything I want more!”
Spike blinked at Buffy and frowned. He looked into her eyes for a long moment. “Uh, listen,” he said to Xander, while still holding Buffy’s desperate gaze, “Why don’t you let me and The Slayer do this alone? We should be able to handle this demon.”
“Oh, no!” said Buffy, “I’d feel much, much, better if I knew we were all going to be together for an indefinite amount of time. And we can’t possibly do it without them.”
Xander raised his eyebrows and then put his weapon down on the table with a thud. He flopped heavily into a chair. “Great. If that’s the way you feel about it, Buffy, we’ll stay here.”
“I’m thrilled to have hurt your feelings,” Buffy replied, “It’s exactly what I meant to do.” She gave Xander a pleading look, but he frowned and looked away from her.
“OK, guys,” said Willow, “Buffy can’t really control what she’s saying, so let’s cut her a break. If she wants to go alone with Spike, let her go. She can explain it all when she gets back.”
“May you be damned to fiery hell for all eternity, Willow Rosenberg,” said Buffy.
Willow gave Buffy a startled look. Then she smiled. “Uh – right back at ya, Buff!” she said.
Spike picked up a lethal looking sword. “C’mon, Slayer, let’s get goin’. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”
With a quick nod and last look at her friends, Buffy picked up a small hatchet and a crossbow, and followed Spike out the door. He stopped on the sidewalk, took a big sniff of the night air, and turned right. “So – where’ve you been the last two days, Buffy? I’ve been thinking about you.”
“Well, I never thought of you once,” said Buffy, “and I did not miss you at all.”
“Just as I suspected,” said Spike.
“I mean it,” said Buffy, “You’re disgusting. I can’t stand the sight of you. You make me want to join a convent!” Oh, God. Where was anchovy pizza, when you needed it?
Spike smiled. “Yeah,” he said in a sleepy, casual tone as they continued down the street, “I feel the same way about you.”
Buffy swallowed and clamped her lips together, pinching them tightly closed with her teeth. She was afraid of what might pass through them - but nothing did, and she began to relax. She threw several glances at Spike, but he was staying mercifully quiet, looking straight ahead and intently following his nose. She stayed with him as he wound his way through the streets of Sunnydale, until he abruptly stopped. He pointed ahead: “See that alley, coming up on our right, about two blocks away?”
“No,” said Buffy.
Spike paused. “OK. Yeah. That alley is a dead end, and I’m sure the Boojar is down there right now, probably going through the dumpster behind the movie theatre. It eats all kinds of trash.”
“You go on ahead,” said Buffy, “I’ll back you up.”
Spike pursed his lips. “Fine,” he said, gesturing with his hand, “Ladies first.”
Buffy led the way, and her own nose began to crinkle as they got closer. There was an underlying sweetness to the sharp, nauseating odor, and Buffy’s stomach flip-flopped. “That smells delicious!” she said.
“You gonna be able to handle it, Slayer?” asked Spike, as they approached the black alley and stood in front of its entrance. “That smell is gonna get even worse when we start the fighting.”
Buffy opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, the Boojar demon appeared from behind a dumpster. It hurtled down the dark alleyway and attacked her.
The Boojar’s strength and slipperiness proved a challenge, as both Spike and Buffy fought the powerful demon. Its slick skin was very effective in glancing off anything but the most direct and powerful of blows, but it was the intensely worsening smell that got the best of Buffy. She dropped to her knees to retch, and the Boojar hurled itself at her back, covering her in foul slime. Spike hauled it up and threw it toward the dumpster. It hit the dumpster forcefully and staggered forward, appearing seriously dazed. Buffy was still on her knees and retching – painfully and uncontrollably. The injured Boojar made its escape as Spike turned his full attention toward Buffy.
“Buffy, Buffy – here.” He crouched down to put the flat of his hand on her back. Pulling a large white handkerchief from his pocket, he began to wipe the slime from her brow and face. Her retching finally slowed, and she took several deep shaky breaths while Spike smoothed her hair and held it away from her face.
“Let’s take that jacket off,” he said, as he helped Buffy to her feet. Buffy shrugged off the smelly, slime-covered jacket while Spike tugged at it. He removed it and then threw it into the dumpster behind him.
“Damn it,” whispered Buffy, her throat feeling sore and swollen, “I wanted to keep that thing.”
“C’mon, Slayer,” said Spike, “let’s take you home and get you cleaned up before we try again.”
Buffy leaned against him for a moment, still trembling from the violence of her stomach spasms. “Screw you,” she said.
Spike tilted his head at her and gave her a slow smile. “You’re welcome,” he replied. He looked at her pale, sweaty face as she threw her head back in exasperation. “Don’t worry. We’ll kill that thing soon,” he added.
Buffy nodded and they wordlessly made their way back to the Summers homestead. Before the Scooby meeting, Buffy had asked Tara to stay with Dawn, and now she found Tara watching TV in the living room.
“Hi,” said Tara, “How was the Scooby meeting?” She suddenly crinkled her nose and knitted her brow in consternation. “Or maybe I shouldn’t ask?”
Buffy gave Spike a look and headed up the stairs for a quick shower and change, leaving him to talk to Tara: “There’s a nasty demon out there. Buffy and I went out on the hunt, and she ended up getting - slimed. She wanted to change her clothes. You know. Before we go out looking for it again.”
“Oh.” Tara looked at Spike, and he fidgeted under her silent gaze. Tara always made him feel as if she knew too much about him, though in reality, she was the Scooby who knew the least. She put her head down and frowned. “Sorry, but uh – I think you have some of that smelly slime on you, too,” Tara said, cupping her hand over her nose and looking up at him.
Spike raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh!” He looked down at the arms of his coat, and back up at Tara. She was still peering at him over her cupped hand. Spike looked up into the empty stairwell and then put his hand on the front door knob. “You know - I think I’m gonna go back to the crypt to clean up a bit myself, then,” he said. “Tell Buffy to meet me there when she’s through, all right?”
“Sure.”
Spike made his escape, and Tara stared at the space he had vacated for a moment before she started up the stairs to check on Dawn. She met Buffy in the hallway as Buffy, in a quilted white robe and fresh from the shower, exited the bathroom. They both peeked into Dawn’s room and smiled together at the sight of her peaceful, sleeping countenance. Then Buffy quickly and quietly started toward her own room.
“Oh,” said Tara, “Spike said to tell you that he went to change clothes at his crypt. You should meet him there.”
“Problem,” said Buffy, as she opened the door to her room.
“Problem?” said Tara.
“I didn’t say problem,” Buffy lied, “I said NO problem.” Impressed with her own cleverness, Buffy nodded pleasantly at Tara, shut the bedroom door, and put on sensible cotton underwear, a pair of sturdy jeans, a thick gray sweat shirt, and running shoes. She tore down the steps and toward the front door, racing out before Tara had another chance to say boo.
When she entered the crypt, she found Spike sitting in front of his TV, clad only in a thin, white, terry-cloth robe. “Oh, great!” said Buffy, as she turned off the TV, “Take your time. Let’s watch some late night porn before we go out to kill the demon that’s ruining my life.”
“Wish I could get porn,” said Spike. “And don’t get so cross. I had to break into an empty room at that motel around the corner, for a shower,” he said, standing and stepping up to her. “Had to get that slime off, now didn’t I? Took a little time.” His face was inches away from hers as he stared down at her. “Besides – I don’t see why I need to get dressed so quick,” he said, pouting a bit as he reached out to stroke her hair. “Haven’t seen you for two days, and that Boojar demon isn’t going anywhere.” He bit his lower lip. “I like your new ‘do,” he added as tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, “shows your neck.” He put a hand on the small of her back and leaned down to kiss a spot below her right ear.
“Don’t,” said Buffy.
“Don’t mind if I do,” said Spike. He put both arms around her waist and pulled her against him for a kiss. Buffy returned the kiss, her heart beginning to pound. But when he pushed his left hand beneath her sweatshirt to unhook her bra, she pushed him away.
“Yes,” said Buffy.
Spike blinked at her. “Yes?” He removed his hand from her back and brought it around to brush the front of her bra instead. Then he dropped his hand to the metal snap of her jeans and unsnapped them.
“No - I mean yes!” Buffy said. “I mean, I didn’t mean –”
“Let’s not talk,” said Spike, kissing her again as he pulled down her zipper. They eventually, and silently, made their way down to the lower level of the crypt and into Spike’s bed. Spike’s robe was long gone, and Buffy’s sensible clothes were scattered throughout the crypt. Her earlier resolve to stay away from Spike was now a distant and melted memory. She had missed him tremendously, and she closed her eyes to lie back and enjoy his familiar and expert ministrations.
Buffy groaned and rocked. “Higher,” she said, her voice thick with the moment’s impending release. Spike, completely lost in the activity, acquiesced. Buffy’s eyes popped wide open. “Oh!” she said, “More!” The edge in her voice got through to Spike.
“Oh,” he said, “right.” He tried again, overcorrecting as Buffy continued her breathless instruction:
“Yes - lower. No. That’s not right. Left. There. Oh, Spike – no. Yes!”
Spike pulled away from Buffy, rolling over and sitting up in bed. He looked at her, wide-eyed and intense. “Bloody hell, woman,” he said, “Can’t you see that I haven’t got enough blood left in my brain for this?”
Buffy gulped. She looked into Spike’s dilated pupils and then reached up to tug him back down on top of her. “I have to give you directions,” she said, “You’re the worst! I -,” Buffy slammed her mouth against Spike’s for a deep and sloppy kiss. She incomprehensibly chewed her way through the rest of the sentence: “hah-yum-sammoo-thuffal,” she said.
Spike pulled away and propped himself up on an elbow to look at her.
Buffy violently pulled him down again for another kiss. She didn’t plan on letting herself say another intelligible word. She kept her hands pushed hard against the sides and back of his head as she kissed him deeply and continuously, refusing to let him move his head away. His hands wandered madly over her body, and he clutched at her more and more frantically. They continued their urgent contact until she wrapped her legs around him for a big finish that – blessed relief - required only the most guttural of sounds.
“Yuck,” breathed Buffy, as Spike lay motionless atop her. He rolled away from her without a word, and they both promptly fell asleep. It was almost 1:30 AM before Buffy awoke, looked at her watch, and shook Spike.
“Sleep, Sleep!” she said to him urgently, “That demon will stay in Sunnydale forever!”
They dressed quickly to go out and continue the hunt. Just as they stepped out of the crypt, they saw Anya, Xander, and Willow heading toward them. “There they are!” shouted Willow, as the threesome rushed forward.
“It’s been over three hours!” said Xander, “We were getting worried.”
“We’ve been hunting that Bugger demon the whole time!” said Buffy.
“Well, no, see – that’s a lie, of course,” explained Spike. “It took a while to find it. Then we had a nasty scuffle. Yeah. Slayer here got sick from the smell and had to heave. And we got covered in that stinkin’ slime to boot.” Spike paused and looked into the Scoobies silent and uncertain faces. “Had to get cleaned up. Both of us did. And we met up again in my crypt.”
“It’s very unpleasant in there,” added Buffy.
“But Tara said you came by the house over three hours ago!” said Anya.
“Took some time to make our plans,” said Spike. “With Buffy not talkin’ straight and all. We couldn’t just take off again without a plan now, could we?”
“Spike’s completely incompetent and a terrible partner,” said Buffy. “He needs so much instruction.”
Xander grinned at Buffy. “Are you sure you didn’t kill that Boojar demon?” he said, “’Cause it sounds like you’re 100% cured.”
Spike gave Xander a smirking, sideways glance, and then he moved forward, closing the distance between them in one step. “You and the Xanderettes can get lost now. We didn’t need you before, and we don’t need you now.”
“If it wasn’t for that snout of yours – Fido - nobody would need you at all,” replied Xander, looking Spike right in the eye. “And correct me if I’m wrong here, but you two didn’t get the job done on your own, now did you?”
Spike narrowed his eyes and bristled, but Willow interrupted before he could reply. “Stop, both of you!” she said. “Look, Spike, I don’t want to argue, but it does sound as if ‘the more of us the better’ with this thing.”
“That’s ludicrous!” said Buffy. She sighed, hoping that everyone understood she was in agreement with Willow. She was still a little worried about being around Spike and The Scoobies, but she was generally feeling much less tense. Killing the demon as quickly as possibly was the priority and Xander was right – she and Spike could use the help.
“Great,” said Spike. “You all come along then. I can’t get enough of the sight and smell of regurgitated pizza.”
They all began to walk together toward the sidewalk. Spike sniffed the air again and made a left out of the cemetery gate. Everyone followed him quietly around the twists and turns, until Anya spoke up: “So what’s the plan?” she asked Spike.
“The plan, you ninny, is for everyone to follow me until we find the Boojar. Then we beat it, kick it, and stab it until it’s dead.”
“That’s the plan that took over three hours to concoct?” said Anya. “I’m not the ninny. You’re the ninny. You and Buffy.”
“Yes,” said Buffy. “We engaged in at least one hour of cerebral analysis, followed by two hours of conscious thought and activity.”
“What the hell -,” began Xander.
“Shut up, the lot of you!” said Spike. He sniffed the air again, and seemed to be listening very carefully. “It’s over there,” he said, pointing to the Sunnydale Elementary School, “behind the school building.”
“OK,” said Buffy. “I’ll go last. Spike – you’re in front of me. Xander and Anya, you’re first. Willow –,” Buffy pulled out her crossbow, “give this to me and stay at our foot or head. Unselect anything on it, until right before you see the Bungee’s left side. That’s where it’s toughest. Then preserve it as best you can.”
Willow eyes went wide with confusion, but she took the crossbow from Buffy. “I’ll cover you,” she said.
Buffy surveyed her troops, and then turned toward the building. “Marshmallows, unprepared!” she said as she started forward.
“And marzipan in your pie plate!” muttered Willow, to herself.
As they got closer, the Scoobies began to scowl and comment on the horrible smell coming from behind the building. They rounded the corner and were startled to immediately find the gruesome, fierce-looking Boojar facing them, not 10 feet away. But the demon took one look at their number and turned to race through the blacktopped playground, and into a field behind the school.
“There it goes,” shouted Xander “it’s heading for the woods!”
The Boojar’s dense, bulky body gave it great strength, but hindered its speed. They were quickly catching up to it when Willow stepped back, aimed the crossbow, and fired. The Boojar, hit in its muscular left calf, stumbled and fell. The others were upon it almost immediately. But Buffy quickly fell to her knees, retching again and useless to the fight. Willow ran to her and helped her up, half-dragging her away from the noxious Boojar. A little distance helped a lot, and Buffy and Willow turned to watch the fight, already in progress.
The Boojar knocked Xander to the ground and began to pummel him. Anya hurled herself onto its back and began beating its head and shoulders. Spike, who lay a few feet away, was struggling to stand as the Boojar straightened up to shake Anya off its back. Anya hit the ground with a thud, and the Boojar again approached Xander. Its drill-like aperture was extended and beginning a slow spin. But Xander, still prone, was ready for it. Using both feet, he aimed a tremendous kick at the demon’s abdomen. It went flying toward Spike, who took advantage of its temporarily horizontal and stunned condition to grab the Boojar’s head, and quickly and cleanly snap its neck. All three combatants took a moment to recover before standing up and walking toward Willow and Buffy.
“How’s our big fibber?” asked Xander, “All better?”
“Yes, I think so,” said Buffy.
“She’d be saying that either way,” Anya observed, “She needs a question that has only one exact answer.” She looked at Buffy. “How much is 163 times 722?”
“Uh -”
“Who are you?” asked Spike.
“Buffy,” she said to him. “I’m Buffy, The Vampire Slayer.”
Spike gazed into her solemn eyes and raised a brow. “Guess that’s mission accomplished, then,” he said. “Why don’t you and your junior SWAT team head home. I’ll drag that stinkin’ thing out into the woods and bury it. That way the school kiddies won’t have to be bothered with anything ugly come morning.”
He spun on his heel before she could answer, and she watched him stride away – his white head down, his black coat billowing - toward the already putrefying Boojar.
***
by Spring Summers 17-Jul-2004
Buffy had been good. She’d stayed away from Spike all day yesterday and most of today. But as she walked through the dark streets toward The Magic Box, she touched her new, shorter haircut and frowned. What good was it to cut her hair to spite him, if he never saw it? She had been invisible when she’d entered his crypt soon after the hair cut. And she didn’t think he had noticed her new hairdo during her visit – even though he’d had his hands in her hair often enough. She closed her eyes and could feel his hands pushed up into her hair and cradling her head, while he – Buffy gulped and forced her train of thought onto another track, deciding to wonder about tonight’s mystery meeting, instead. She was meeting with Xander, Anya, and Willow in response to a brief, urgent-sounding answering machine message from Anya.
When she arrived at the store, she found the three of them already sitting around the table. Books were scattered on the floor and around three large, open pizza boxes. The pizzas were half-eaten and a small cooler of iced, canned soft drinks sat on the floor between Xander and Willow.
“So,” said Buffy. “Pizza party or something more spooky?”
“Boojar Demon,” said Anya, “Very spooky. And very bad news. I think one’s in town.”
“Boo-jar?”
“Yeah,” said Willow. She wiped her greasy-pizza-hands on a napkin before picking up a large book. “It says here that they ‘kill with a long, drill-like aperture that can be extended from their left arm and slowly twisted into the victim.’ ”
Buffy grimaced as she sat down. “I don’t know what’s worse, that image or the smell of these anchovies,” she said. “I hate anchovy pizza.”
“Yes – but me like anchovies,” said Xander, pointing to his chest with a flourish. “There’s pepperoni and veggie for the more common folk.”
Buffy smirked at Xander and reached for a slice of veggie pizza before she turned to Anya. “What makes you think one of these - Boogers - is hanging out in Sunnydale?”
“Boojar,” said Anya, “And I think one’s in town because I found this thing out back this morning, in the alley.”
Anya carefully opened a small box that was sitting on the table near her. Buffy looked inside and saw a clear, many-sided crystal, the size of a small egg. It looked as if it had been placed in the center of the box with the navy blue handkerchief that still surrounded it. It glowed and twinkled with many multicolored lights, just like a prism with strong sunlight shining through it – except there was no sunlight.
“It’s beautiful,” said Buffy.
“Yes,” said Anya, “but–”
Buffy reached for the mesmerizing crystal. It shattered into dust as soon as she touched it and released a wisp of swirling colors that disappeared into Buffy’s arm with a jolt.
“- don’t touch it.” Anya finished her sentence with a loud, exasperated sigh. “Now you’ve really gone and done it, Buffy. You’ve shattered a Boojar crystal. You’re doomed. Doomed to tell nothing but lies until you die – or until the Boojar that spewed this crystal dies. Whichever comes first – which in your case, is probably going to be your death, because Boojars live for around 300 years.” Anya paused. “Though I guess this one could be 299 ½ years old already or something. That would be lucky.”
“What?!” Buffy eyes widened as she grabbed Willow’s book. She read for a moment then looked up at Anya: “It doesn’t say anything like that in here!” she said.
“Of course it does, you Liar,” said Anya.
“I am not lying!”
“See?” said Anya to Willow and Xander, “what did I tell you? Get zapped by a Boojar crystal, and you forever say the opposite of what you really think and feel.”
Willow took the book back from Buffy. She frowned with concern as she read more about the demon. “Uh – it looks like Anya’s right about this,” she said.
“Oh my God! This is fantastic!” said Buffy, looking panicked. “I hope we never find this demon, and it lives forever!”
“Uh – OK.” Xander shook his head to clear it. “So - so you – you wanna find this thing and kill it, right?”
“Of course not,” said Buffy.
Xander gave Buffy a small smile. “Buffster – I’ve always liked the fact that you were kinda mysterious and hard to figure out, but I think this is gonna get old real fast.”
“That is really funny,” said Buffy, “You’re hilarious.”
“Take it easy, Buffy,” said Willow. “The book says that this demon has a terrible, distinctive odor. And we know it’s been hanging around this part of town very recently. So we should be able to find it. It’s strong, but with The Slayer and the rest of us fighting it, and with lots of sharp and pointy weapons, we should be able to kill it.”
“And even if we can’t,” said Anya, nodding her head, “Buffy can still find success in life, in many important fields. Politics. Law. Journalism. I’ve seen it before.”
“Used car salesman,” said Xander, “TV Evangelist. Talk show host. Psychologist.”
“High priced call girl,” added Anya.
“Anya, you’re the most sensitive, pleasant, insightful person I ever met,” said Buffy.
Anya hit Xander on the arm. “Are you going to just sit there and let her talk to me that way?” she huffed. “Did you hear what she just said?”
“Ladies –”
“I think I have a question for you, Buffy,” said Anya, with a haughty little tilt of her head. “Do you think I’m the right woman to marry Xander?”
“I – uh-” Buffy looked at Xander’s surprised and expectant face. “I have to go to the bathroom!” she lied, as she rushed toward the small bathroom in the back of the store. She closed the door behind her. “I think Xander couldn’t possibly do any better than you, Anya,” she said weakly to herself as she stared at the mirror.
Oh, dear God. She couldn’t seem to keep herself from responding in some fashion or from responding with a lie – a lie which everyone knew was a lie, so everyone would try to figure out the truth from there. Oh, dear God.
Buffy splashed some water on her face and then used a paper towel to dry off. She had to find and kill this demon, and she had to find and kill it now. This was pure torture. She couldn’t say what she wanted to say, and she didn’t want to say what she did say. But Xander, Willow, and Anya were doing a pretty good job of understanding her – too good, actually. Buffy braced herself for another round of Truth or Consequences as she headed back toward her friends. She wanted their Scooby-help to track and kill the demon, but if communication didn’t improve and a plan wasn’t in place soon, she would go out on her own to find it.
“Feel better?” asked Willow.
“Never been better,” said Buffy. “No point in hurrying to come up with a plan. I’d love to just sit here all night.” She felt very much like crying. This had to stop.
“No need to get pissy, missy,” said Anya. “Xander’s already on it. He went out to get Spike.”
“Spike! That’s a wonderful idea!” Buffy swallowed. She couldn’t see Spike while she was like this. She just couldn’t – especially not around her friends.
“It actually is a good idea, Buffy,” said Willow. “I’d do a locator spell for you, but – well, I – I need to stay off the magicks. Besides, Anya says Boojar demons aren’t that uncommon, so Spike’s probably smelled one before. With that smell-sense of his, he can lead us right to it.”
“And he’s a good fighter. He was a big help all summer with the demon-fighting,” said Anya. “It’s a perfect plan. He’ll find the demon in no time, and then he’ll help us kill it.”
“But – but he’s – he’s repulsive!” said Buffy. Anya and Willow exchanged a look. “He makes me want to-” Buffy grabbed a piece of the anchovy pizza that was in the box nearest her, and stuffed it her mouth crust first, “-jaw-ah-kah.” Buffy gagged and coughed as she cleared the pizza out of her mouth with some napkins.
Anya looked at Willow: “He makes her want to – what? To juggle? What’s the opposite of juggling? Dropping things? He makes her want to drop things?”
“Listen,” said Willow, noticing Buffy’s alarmed face, “How about the three of us just research quietly until Xander gets back? We can all read up on Boojar strengths and weaknesses while we wait.”
“Bite me, Willow,” said Buffy. Willow’s mouth dropped open. Buffy moaned.
“Fine,” said Anya. “This conversation is making my head hurt anyhow.”
Buffy sighed with relief at the thought of some quiet time, and picked up a book. She found an entry about the Boojar demon, but she was still too flustered to read. She tried to calm herself with the thought that Spike knew better than to try to cause any trouble. I’ll kill him if he gives us away, thought Buffy. I’ll kill him, and he knows it.
Buffy tried to keep her anxiety to a minimum by getting up and gathering the weapons they’d need for the hunt. She’d just finished placing the last selection on the counter when The Magic Box’s entrance bell rang, and Xander and Spike walked into the shop.
Spike was looking directly at Buffy and smirking in that infuriating way of his. Buffy immediately threw him a glare that she hoped was saying all that she could not: “If you say one word out of line, or try to take advantage of this situation in any way, you die.” She gave it her all, but her effort at mind-control didn’t seem to be wiping the smirk off his face.
“OK,” said Xander, “I filled Spike in on the details, and he tells me that he has been around a Boojar Demon before, so he thinks he can help us out.”
“Yeah, definitely I can,” said Spike. “They’re smart, and they’re really good at hiding, but that’s not a scent you forget. I should be able to track it down. They are strong, and they’re slippery-like. But if we can find it, we can kill it. Then Buffy here can get back to telling the truth all the time, like she usually does – right, Slayer?”
“Right,” said Buffy.
Everyone turned to look at Buffy. She put her head in her hands and groaned. This just wasn’t going to work, especially if Spike was going to play games with her. How was she going to get through the next few hours without saying the wrong thing?
No one said a word until Xander finally broke the quiet. “Well – we might as well get started. I see you’ve prepared the weapons.” Xander picked up a large knife. “Everybody choose your poison and let’s play Follow The Vampire!”
“Yes, let’s,” said Buffy. “It is going to be so great doing this with all of you, while I can’t even control what I say. No problem. I can’t think of anything I want more!”
Spike blinked at Buffy and frowned. He looked into her eyes for a long moment. “Uh, listen,” he said to Xander, while still holding Buffy’s desperate gaze, “Why don’t you let me and The Slayer do this alone? We should be able to handle this demon.”
“Oh, no!” said Buffy, “I’d feel much, much, better if I knew we were all going to be together for an indefinite amount of time. And we can’t possibly do it without them.”
Xander raised his eyebrows and then put his weapon down on the table with a thud. He flopped heavily into a chair. “Great. If that’s the way you feel about it, Buffy, we’ll stay here.”
“I’m thrilled to have hurt your feelings,” Buffy replied, “It’s exactly what I meant to do.” She gave Xander a pleading look, but he frowned and looked away from her.
“OK, guys,” said Willow, “Buffy can’t really control what she’s saying, so let’s cut her a break. If she wants to go alone with Spike, let her go. She can explain it all when she gets back.”
“May you be damned to fiery hell for all eternity, Willow Rosenberg,” said Buffy.
Willow gave Buffy a startled look. Then she smiled. “Uh – right back at ya, Buff!” she said.
Spike picked up a lethal looking sword. “C’mon, Slayer, let’s get goin’. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”
With a quick nod and last look at her friends, Buffy picked up a small hatchet and a crossbow, and followed Spike out the door. He stopped on the sidewalk, took a big sniff of the night air, and turned right. “So – where’ve you been the last two days, Buffy? I’ve been thinking about you.”
“Well, I never thought of you once,” said Buffy, “and I did not miss you at all.”
“Just as I suspected,” said Spike.
“I mean it,” said Buffy, “You’re disgusting. I can’t stand the sight of you. You make me want to join a convent!” Oh, God. Where was anchovy pizza, when you needed it?
Spike smiled. “Yeah,” he said in a sleepy, casual tone as they continued down the street, “I feel the same way about you.”
Buffy swallowed and clamped her lips together, pinching them tightly closed with her teeth. She was afraid of what might pass through them - but nothing did, and she began to relax. She threw several glances at Spike, but he was staying mercifully quiet, looking straight ahead and intently following his nose. She stayed with him as he wound his way through the streets of Sunnydale, until he abruptly stopped. He pointed ahead: “See that alley, coming up on our right, about two blocks away?”
“No,” said Buffy.
Spike paused. “OK. Yeah. That alley is a dead end, and I’m sure the Boojar is down there right now, probably going through the dumpster behind the movie theatre. It eats all kinds of trash.”
“You go on ahead,” said Buffy, “I’ll back you up.”
Spike pursed his lips. “Fine,” he said, gesturing with his hand, “Ladies first.”
Buffy led the way, and her own nose began to crinkle as they got closer. There was an underlying sweetness to the sharp, nauseating odor, and Buffy’s stomach flip-flopped. “That smells delicious!” she said.
“You gonna be able to handle it, Slayer?” asked Spike, as they approached the black alley and stood in front of its entrance. “That smell is gonna get even worse when we start the fighting.”
Buffy opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, the Boojar demon appeared from behind a dumpster. It hurtled down the dark alleyway and attacked her.
The Boojar’s strength and slipperiness proved a challenge, as both Spike and Buffy fought the powerful demon. Its slick skin was very effective in glancing off anything but the most direct and powerful of blows, but it was the intensely worsening smell that got the best of Buffy. She dropped to her knees to retch, and the Boojar hurled itself at her back, covering her in foul slime. Spike hauled it up and threw it toward the dumpster. It hit the dumpster forcefully and staggered forward, appearing seriously dazed. Buffy was still on her knees and retching – painfully and uncontrollably. The injured Boojar made its escape as Spike turned his full attention toward Buffy.
“Buffy, Buffy – here.” He crouched down to put the flat of his hand on her back. Pulling a large white handkerchief from his pocket, he began to wipe the slime from her brow and face. Her retching finally slowed, and she took several deep shaky breaths while Spike smoothed her hair and held it away from her face.
“Let’s take that jacket off,” he said, as he helped Buffy to her feet. Buffy shrugged off the smelly, slime-covered jacket while Spike tugged at it. He removed it and then threw it into the dumpster behind him.
“Damn it,” whispered Buffy, her throat feeling sore and swollen, “I wanted to keep that thing.”
“C’mon, Slayer,” said Spike, “let’s take you home and get you cleaned up before we try again.”
Buffy leaned against him for a moment, still trembling from the violence of her stomach spasms. “Screw you,” she said.
Spike tilted his head at her and gave her a slow smile. “You’re welcome,” he replied. He looked at her pale, sweaty face as she threw her head back in exasperation. “Don’t worry. We’ll kill that thing soon,” he added.
Buffy nodded and they wordlessly made their way back to the Summers homestead. Before the Scooby meeting, Buffy had asked Tara to stay with Dawn, and now she found Tara watching TV in the living room.
“Hi,” said Tara, “How was the Scooby meeting?” She suddenly crinkled her nose and knitted her brow in consternation. “Or maybe I shouldn’t ask?”
Buffy gave Spike a look and headed up the stairs for a quick shower and change, leaving him to talk to Tara: “There’s a nasty demon out there. Buffy and I went out on the hunt, and she ended up getting - slimed. She wanted to change her clothes. You know. Before we go out looking for it again.”
“Oh.” Tara looked at Spike, and he fidgeted under her silent gaze. Tara always made him feel as if she knew too much about him, though in reality, she was the Scooby who knew the least. She put her head down and frowned. “Sorry, but uh – I think you have some of that smelly slime on you, too,” Tara said, cupping her hand over her nose and looking up at him.
Spike raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh!” He looked down at the arms of his coat, and back up at Tara. She was still peering at him over her cupped hand. Spike looked up into the empty stairwell and then put his hand on the front door knob. “You know - I think I’m gonna go back to the crypt to clean up a bit myself, then,” he said. “Tell Buffy to meet me there when she’s through, all right?”
“Sure.”
Spike made his escape, and Tara stared at the space he had vacated for a moment before she started up the stairs to check on Dawn. She met Buffy in the hallway as Buffy, in a quilted white robe and fresh from the shower, exited the bathroom. They both peeked into Dawn’s room and smiled together at the sight of her peaceful, sleeping countenance. Then Buffy quickly and quietly started toward her own room.
“Oh,” said Tara, “Spike said to tell you that he went to change clothes at his crypt. You should meet him there.”
“Problem,” said Buffy, as she opened the door to her room.
“Problem?” said Tara.
“I didn’t say problem,” Buffy lied, “I said NO problem.” Impressed with her own cleverness, Buffy nodded pleasantly at Tara, shut the bedroom door, and put on sensible cotton underwear, a pair of sturdy jeans, a thick gray sweat shirt, and running shoes. She tore down the steps and toward the front door, racing out before Tara had another chance to say boo.
When she entered the crypt, she found Spike sitting in front of his TV, clad only in a thin, white, terry-cloth robe. “Oh, great!” said Buffy, as she turned off the TV, “Take your time. Let’s watch some late night porn before we go out to kill the demon that’s ruining my life.”
“Wish I could get porn,” said Spike. “And don’t get so cross. I had to break into an empty room at that motel around the corner, for a shower,” he said, standing and stepping up to her. “Had to get that slime off, now didn’t I? Took a little time.” His face was inches away from hers as he stared down at her. “Besides – I don’t see why I need to get dressed so quick,” he said, pouting a bit as he reached out to stroke her hair. “Haven’t seen you for two days, and that Boojar demon isn’t going anywhere.” He bit his lower lip. “I like your new ‘do,” he added as tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, “shows your neck.” He put a hand on the small of her back and leaned down to kiss a spot below her right ear.
“Don’t,” said Buffy.
“Don’t mind if I do,” said Spike. He put both arms around her waist and pulled her against him for a kiss. Buffy returned the kiss, her heart beginning to pound. But when he pushed his left hand beneath her sweatshirt to unhook her bra, she pushed him away.
“Yes,” said Buffy.
Spike blinked at her. “Yes?” He removed his hand from her back and brought it around to brush the front of her bra instead. Then he dropped his hand to the metal snap of her jeans and unsnapped them.
“No - I mean yes!” Buffy said. “I mean, I didn’t mean –”
“Let’s not talk,” said Spike, kissing her again as he pulled down her zipper. They eventually, and silently, made their way down to the lower level of the crypt and into Spike’s bed. Spike’s robe was long gone, and Buffy’s sensible clothes were scattered throughout the crypt. Her earlier resolve to stay away from Spike was now a distant and melted memory. She had missed him tremendously, and she closed her eyes to lie back and enjoy his familiar and expert ministrations.
Buffy groaned and rocked. “Higher,” she said, her voice thick with the moment’s impending release. Spike, completely lost in the activity, acquiesced. Buffy’s eyes popped wide open. “Oh!” she said, “More!” The edge in her voice got through to Spike.
“Oh,” he said, “right.” He tried again, overcorrecting as Buffy continued her breathless instruction:
“Yes - lower. No. That’s not right. Left. There. Oh, Spike – no. Yes!”
Spike pulled away from Buffy, rolling over and sitting up in bed. He looked at her, wide-eyed and intense. “Bloody hell, woman,” he said, “Can’t you see that I haven’t got enough blood left in my brain for this?”
Buffy gulped. She looked into Spike’s dilated pupils and then reached up to tug him back down on top of her. “I have to give you directions,” she said, “You’re the worst! I -,” Buffy slammed her mouth against Spike’s for a deep and sloppy kiss. She incomprehensibly chewed her way through the rest of the sentence: “hah-yum-sammoo-thuffal,” she said.
Spike pulled away and propped himself up on an elbow to look at her.
Buffy violently pulled him down again for another kiss. She didn’t plan on letting herself say another intelligible word. She kept her hands pushed hard against the sides and back of his head as she kissed him deeply and continuously, refusing to let him move his head away. His hands wandered madly over her body, and he clutched at her more and more frantically. They continued their urgent contact until she wrapped her legs around him for a big finish that – blessed relief - required only the most guttural of sounds.
“Yuck,” breathed Buffy, as Spike lay motionless atop her. He rolled away from her without a word, and they both promptly fell asleep. It was almost 1:30 AM before Buffy awoke, looked at her watch, and shook Spike.
“Sleep, Sleep!” she said to him urgently, “That demon will stay in Sunnydale forever!”
They dressed quickly to go out and continue the hunt. Just as they stepped out of the crypt, they saw Anya, Xander, and Willow heading toward them. “There they are!” shouted Willow, as the threesome rushed forward.
“It’s been over three hours!” said Xander, “We were getting worried.”
“We’ve been hunting that Bugger demon the whole time!” said Buffy.
“Well, no, see – that’s a lie, of course,” explained Spike. “It took a while to find it. Then we had a nasty scuffle. Yeah. Slayer here got sick from the smell and had to heave. And we got covered in that stinkin’ slime to boot.” Spike paused and looked into the Scoobies silent and uncertain faces. “Had to get cleaned up. Both of us did. And we met up again in my crypt.”
“It’s very unpleasant in there,” added Buffy.
“But Tara said you came by the house over three hours ago!” said Anya.
“Took some time to make our plans,” said Spike. “With Buffy not talkin’ straight and all. We couldn’t just take off again without a plan now, could we?”
“Spike’s completely incompetent and a terrible partner,” said Buffy. “He needs so much instruction.”
Xander grinned at Buffy. “Are you sure you didn’t kill that Boojar demon?” he said, “’Cause it sounds like you’re 100% cured.”
Spike gave Xander a smirking, sideways glance, and then he moved forward, closing the distance between them in one step. “You and the Xanderettes can get lost now. We didn’t need you before, and we don’t need you now.”
“If it wasn’t for that snout of yours – Fido - nobody would need you at all,” replied Xander, looking Spike right in the eye. “And correct me if I’m wrong here, but you two didn’t get the job done on your own, now did you?”
Spike narrowed his eyes and bristled, but Willow interrupted before he could reply. “Stop, both of you!” she said. “Look, Spike, I don’t want to argue, but it does sound as if ‘the more of us the better’ with this thing.”
“That’s ludicrous!” said Buffy. She sighed, hoping that everyone understood she was in agreement with Willow. She was still a little worried about being around Spike and The Scoobies, but she was generally feeling much less tense. Killing the demon as quickly as possibly was the priority and Xander was right – she and Spike could use the help.
“Great,” said Spike. “You all come along then. I can’t get enough of the sight and smell of regurgitated pizza.”
They all began to walk together toward the sidewalk. Spike sniffed the air again and made a left out of the cemetery gate. Everyone followed him quietly around the twists and turns, until Anya spoke up: “So what’s the plan?” she asked Spike.
“The plan, you ninny, is for everyone to follow me until we find the Boojar. Then we beat it, kick it, and stab it until it’s dead.”
“That’s the plan that took over three hours to concoct?” said Anya. “I’m not the ninny. You’re the ninny. You and Buffy.”
“Yes,” said Buffy. “We engaged in at least one hour of cerebral analysis, followed by two hours of conscious thought and activity.”
“What the hell -,” began Xander.
“Shut up, the lot of you!” said Spike. He sniffed the air again, and seemed to be listening very carefully. “It’s over there,” he said, pointing to the Sunnydale Elementary School, “behind the school building.”
“OK,” said Buffy. “I’ll go last. Spike – you’re in front of me. Xander and Anya, you’re first. Willow –,” Buffy pulled out her crossbow, “give this to me and stay at our foot or head. Unselect anything on it, until right before you see the Bungee’s left side. That’s where it’s toughest. Then preserve it as best you can.”
Willow eyes went wide with confusion, but she took the crossbow from Buffy. “I’ll cover you,” she said.
Buffy surveyed her troops, and then turned toward the building. “Marshmallows, unprepared!” she said as she started forward.
“And marzipan in your pie plate!” muttered Willow, to herself.
As they got closer, the Scoobies began to scowl and comment on the horrible smell coming from behind the building. They rounded the corner and were startled to immediately find the gruesome, fierce-looking Boojar facing them, not 10 feet away. But the demon took one look at their number and turned to race through the blacktopped playground, and into a field behind the school.
“There it goes,” shouted Xander “it’s heading for the woods!”
The Boojar’s dense, bulky body gave it great strength, but hindered its speed. They were quickly catching up to it when Willow stepped back, aimed the crossbow, and fired. The Boojar, hit in its muscular left calf, stumbled and fell. The others were upon it almost immediately. But Buffy quickly fell to her knees, retching again and useless to the fight. Willow ran to her and helped her up, half-dragging her away from the noxious Boojar. A little distance helped a lot, and Buffy and Willow turned to watch the fight, already in progress.
The Boojar knocked Xander to the ground and began to pummel him. Anya hurled herself onto its back and began beating its head and shoulders. Spike, who lay a few feet away, was struggling to stand as the Boojar straightened up to shake Anya off its back. Anya hit the ground with a thud, and the Boojar again approached Xander. Its drill-like aperture was extended and beginning a slow spin. But Xander, still prone, was ready for it. Using both feet, he aimed a tremendous kick at the demon’s abdomen. It went flying toward Spike, who took advantage of its temporarily horizontal and stunned condition to grab the Boojar’s head, and quickly and cleanly snap its neck. All three combatants took a moment to recover before standing up and walking toward Willow and Buffy.
“How’s our big fibber?” asked Xander, “All better?”
“Yes, I think so,” said Buffy.
“She’d be saying that either way,” Anya observed, “She needs a question that has only one exact answer.” She looked at Buffy. “How much is 163 times 722?”
“Uh -”
“Who are you?” asked Spike.
“Buffy,” she said to him. “I’m Buffy, The Vampire Slayer.”
Spike gazed into her solemn eyes and raised a brow. “Guess that’s mission accomplished, then,” he said. “Why don’t you and your junior SWAT team head home. I’ll drag that stinkin’ thing out into the woods and bury it. That way the school kiddies won’t have to be bothered with anything ugly come morning.”
He spun on his heel before she could answer, and she watched him stride away – his white head down, his black coat billowing - toward the already putrefying Boojar.
***
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