Hrm, I forget, was this one every finished Plei?

Nope. I dig it up whenever I'm working on something so depressing I feel like sticking my head in an oven.

It should be finished soon. I've written about 300 words in the last hour.

it never hurts to check and make sure a body is where you put him or her last.

A good rule to live by

Plei, that is wonderful. Such a great Fred voice. Really, you've captured her so well.

t it's being a good night, but now for bed

Dawn cut her last class, even though she knew quite well that she wasn't supposed to leave campus without having someone to walk with. But she just could not sit in Geometry, working on acute angles and right triangles with that feeling on the back of her neck.

Someone was watching her. Someone had been watching her all day. And this wasn't like that nice-but-squicky feeling she got when she caught Todd Burke watching her during gym class. This was calculating, curious, not really human. Hellmouthy. The monks had given her years of memories on what Hellmouthyness felt like.

More than that, this was her own personal brand of wiggins, this was the Glory brand. There was nothing stopping the hellgod from coming to school. Dawn really didn't want anything like what happened to Spike happening to any of her classmates.

So she snuck out. If she kept moving and stayed on crowded streets, she could get to the Magic Box, and then she could call Buffy while hiding behind Xander and Willow and the others.

She caught a glimpse of it, once, skulking behind some garbage cans in an alley as she hurried down the street towards Main Street. Not very big, but it wore one of those robes the little demons wore that night. It ducked down when she stopped to look, then it peeked very carefully around the garbage can, and she met its eyes. It smiled at her.

She was running when she hit the door of the Magic Box.

Willow jumped up from her chair at the table. "Dawnie, what is it?"

"It's following me!" She ran into Willow's arms, trying not to cry.

Xander grabbed an axe. "What's following you? Where?"

"One of Glory's thingies! Little men or something. It was at school, and I left, and it followed me, and I saw it in the alley, and it grinned at me!"

"I'll go look." Xander gave Dawn a quick squeeze before going to the front door. He leaned out, keeping the axe hidden inside as he looked carefully up and down the street.

Willow brushed back Dawn's hair. "It was at school? Are you sure?"

Dawn nodded, sniffling. "I knew something was watching me. I really did!"

"It's OK, honey, I believe you."

Xander closed the door and locked it, then flipped the Open sign to Closed. Anya started to protest but subsided. "There's nothing out there now," he said.

"It was there!" Dawn started.

"I believe you, too, Dawn, don't worry."

Anya reached for the phone. "I'll tell Buffy."

"The alley, you said?" Xander asked Dawn.

She nodded. "Over on Third, coming down from school. I ran the rest of the way."

Willow smiled and kissed her hair. "Long-legged beastie, you always could run fast." Dawn gave her a confused look, then just leaned against Willow.

Xander stared at the back of the store. "I'll check out back."

He opened the door to the training room, and short, wizened creature in a long robe peered up at him from where it had been crouching.

Xander grabbed it by the front of the robe, dragged it from hiding and shoved it up against the wall. "Did somebody order a Jawa?"

"That's him!" Dawn yelled. "It!"

"I serve--Glorificus," the creature wheezed. "She will be most wroth at my mistreatment."

"Mistreatment?" Xander pulled it forward, then slammed it back against the wall. "We haven't gotten to mistreatment yet." He held the axe edge against the creature's face. "But we'll get there. You scared a friend of mine. Nice people don't do that. And we don't like people who aren't nice. Why were you following her?"

"I shall not speak! Do your worst!"

Xander stared at the creature. "Anya? Remember when you told me how you pulled that guy's small intestine out through his belly button? What kind of knife did you use again?"

"A knife with a hooked point," she answered brightly. "I think Giles has one in the training room, unless he took it with him when he left to become a vampire. I'll go look."

"Thanks, hon."

The demon shivered and looked over at Willow and Dawn. "I--I will not speak ..."

"Why were you following me?" Dawn demanded.

Anya came back from the training room. "He took it with him, sorry. But I found a fork!" She held one up. "We can bend one of the pointy bits over, that should work."

"That's my little problem solver," Xander grinned. He turned back to the creature, losing the smile. "So, do I let my ex-vengeance-demon girlfriend turn that fork into an implement of torture, or are you going to talk?"

"I--I--" The creature looked over Xander's shoulder to where Anya had pulled a pair of pliers from Xander's toolbox to bend a fork tine over. She frowned at the angle and bent a little more.

"Got it!" she called.

Xander raised an eyebrow at the creature, who stayed silent. "Honey, you're the expert. I'll hold, you eviscerate."

"I was sent to watch the Slayer's minions!" the creature yelled. "Only to watch!"

"Hey!" Dawn protested. "I'm not a minion, I'm her sister!"

Anya pouted. "You're not going to let me pull out his intestines, now, are you," she said to Xander.

"Sorry, Ahn." He shook the demon. "Watch? Why?"

"To--to--"

"She's still got that fork, buddy. Talk."

"I--we were sent out to watch all of you, to make sure you didn't interfere when Her Gloriousness collects her key."

Willow pulled Dawn closer. "Collects the key? Glory knows where it's at?"

"Yes. Even now Glorificus is on her way."

"Call Buffy," Xander told Anya, who nodded and ran for the phone. He looked around the shop, wondering if they had anything to hold off a god.

"You needn't hurry so," the creature said. "You won't reach the witch in time."

Willow jumped forward and grabbed a handful of robe. "What do you mean, witch!"

The creature blinked. "The witch with

The creature blinked. "The witch with you, of course. She is the only new one. All know Anyanka, she could not be the Key. And we know it is not a vampire. All the rest of you have lived in this town for years. That leaves only the witch."

"Willow, don't!" Dawn yelled as Willow ran towards the door.

"She's at the fair!" Willow yelled back. "Send Buffy!" She fumbled with the door lock. "*Foris!* she finally commanded, slapping the lock. The door burst open, and she ran.

"Did somebody order a Jawa?"

BWAH!

And the whole Xander/Anya evisceration exchange? Classic. Priceless. Perfect. Seriously, that was fucking great. As good as anything that has aired (and better than much).

And how stupid is Willow to break the lock? Jebus, grow a brain.

Heh. I go to my slumber content. Now the fur shall indeed begin to fly.

YES! Sleep well, princess mine.

Blimey! Masses in Bitchy fic over night.

connie, great work. Love "Giles has minions?" and "I'll hold, you eviserate" in particular.

pmm, good stuff.

Thanks to Tep for the help here.

Title: Procrastination {Eta--Changed the title to Rubber Soul for the Improv Challenge.}

Everyone thinks it's so easy to get a soul.

It's really not. Easier to lose one, actually, and Spike would know. Took him the better part of a year to get his research down on the process.

See, there's that whole glowy ball thing. But the Romanys didn't corner the market on soul-inflicting. The Aztecs had a nice little ritual for ripping the souls from their victims and transferring that power to another person, not that it did Spike much good. And he'd chased an obscure Templar text for a month before he located it, only to discard it in disgust. Damn thing wouldn't be active for another ninety-three years, in accordance with some astrological whatsit. And while he figured he'd be around that long, he had his doubts about certain other parties.

All in all there were about a hundred separate ways a soul could be regained. And in the end, it was down to three options.

The first was the glowy ball thing. But honestly, Spike didn't really see his chances as being all that good. He didn't think either the witch or the Watcher would be too inclined to let him near the curse, and they were the only ones with access to it. So out went that idea.

Second was the slight chance of finding a bruja in the dark alleys of New York City. It was a rumor, but a strong rumor. One that had the people he talked to all edgy, even for lowlifes. But he took off in December after giving a short notice to the little evil fighters, and hunted down any reference, any clue he could find that this existed.

He was pretty successful, finding that impossible alley by his third week. He sauntered up to her, and before he could get a damned word out, she started laughing. It was harsh, high as bells, and extraordinarily irritating. He started to ask what the hell she was laughing about, but she held up her hand and drew him closer. She couldn't do a thing, she whispered grittily in his ear. Someone else had a marker for his soul, and he'd have to fight to get it back.

He was understandably pissed.

Finally, there were The Trials. With capital t's. All the available information, from the texts he pilfered from the Magic Box, was long and wordy with terrible descriptions of some ancient evil with strong magics blah de blah de buggering blah. The only real information to be gleaned from hundreds of pages of pansy ranting was that the fellow was somewhere in the Southern Hemisphere, and that most personages tended to die.

He certainly wasn't going to let a stupid thing like dying stop him.

So he beat up a few more of the general populace, did a locator spell or two, and made long-range plans for a trip to Africa. He just...didn't leave. For awhile. Had to stay to make sure he had his brand of cigarettes, or there was some new demon. Or something.

He just waited for a reason.