OK, the word Minion is now triggering something in my brain that leads to "filet minion"--as a dish, not as an instruction, but how are you going to get the dish without following that instruction? Hm.
'The Cautionary Tale of Numero Cinco'
Buffista Fic: It Could Be Plot Bunnies
Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.
The last story of the Slash Advent trilogy is up!
Just search for the title or the name Minim Calibre.
Slash that's almost meta commentary on slashing, what's not to love? t /pimp
The Actually Way Less Spoilery sequel to the Really Spoilery Fic is in the LJ.
And the final chapeter is up. Same Badtz Time, Same Badtz Channel.
I left this hanging about for so long, seeing if I could improve it, you're probably all wondering what happened to it. Or not caring. But anyway, I did the evil thing, and I posted it. What I've posted is in fact the version I sent to Connie, with a spelling change or two, not any of the major edits, because they were only getting worse.
Oh, shut up, Am, and post the links.
Or go straight to the second part here.
Plei, don't forget to send me (or direct me too) the spoiler fic tomorrow night. Very excited to read it, and don't so much mind being spoiled for Angel.
Sure.
How's your ability to not read something for a day?
It turned into a trilogy. I took out my Firefly grief on it.
Elena, they're up at Recalibration, but I've buried them. The Triptych link will take you there.
OK, I'm not sure if I'm on the right track with this, so here we go, the latest chunk of V!Giles, right after Spike's been grabbed by Glory's minions . . .
Buffy was in the middle of a lovely dream involving Chow Yun Fat and James Spader fighting a duel over her. Poor James was getting his butt kicked. Then her sister's piercing voice broke the happy spell.
"Buffy! Wake up, Buffy, please!"
"Huh, what--Dawn, shut up, you'll wake up Mom. What is it?" She blinked and saw that Dawn was fully dressed and that she was crying. "What's happened? Is it Mom?"
"No, no, it's not Mom." Dawn swallowed hard, knowing she was about to get yelled at. "It's Spike."
Buffy slumped. "You woke me up for something about Spike? Why are you dressed? You're supposed to be in bed."
"I couldn't sleep, OK? I went out and ran into Spike. We were walking along and talking, and-- and this scary guy in a robe and a hood heard us and figured out I was the Key, and he ran off to tell--tell Glory, but Spike caught him and--and stopped him, but then all these other scary guys showed up and knocked him out and he told me to run, and I think they're taking him to Glory! We have to help him!"
Buffy stared at her, letting her brain catch up with the super-fast words that had just pored in. "You were out with Spike."
"Get past that! He's in trouble!"
"OK, OK. Scary guy in robes overheard you talking. How do you know he was with Glory?"
"He said Praise Glorificus and knew all about the Key. The other guys were yelling stuff about taking Spike to Glory."
"You're sure the first guy didn't tell them you're the Key?"
Dawn swallowed hard. "Uh huh. Spike made sure."
"How?" Buffy winced as Dawn mutely ran clawed fingers across her throat. "Yeah, that would do it. Why'd they grab him?"
"I think he was keeping them off of me until I could get away. Buffy, Glory's going to figure he knows where the Key is, she's going to try and get him to tell."
Buffy climbed out of bed to get dressed. "We've got to stop him before he can."
"But--he wouldn't!"
"To save his own neck?" She saw Dawn's face and went to hug her. "Dawnie, I know you like him, even though it's stupid, but do you really think he's going to risk getting dusted after a hundred and twenty-some years just to keep your secret?"
"He told me to run," Dawn whispered. "He stopped the first guy from telling."
Buffy put her hands on her sister's shoulders. "One thing about Spike, he's brave, and he's not going to give up at the first sign of trouble. But if it comes right down to it, and it's him or us, you have to remember he's a demon, and demons are real big on the self-interest thing."
"You think he's going to tell."
"I think there's a good chance."
"What do we do?"
Buffy went back to gathering clothes and weapons. "Where were you?"
"Near that park where you killed the big snake thingy."
"The snake thingy that was going off to tell Glory about you." Dawn nodded. "There's that fancy apartment house near there. Yeah, as much effort as she goes to on that look, she'd be in a place like that. How many of them were there?"
"I don't know. Enough to take down Spike."
"Yeah." Buffy looked at the knife in her hand. "I'm going to need some help. And I need somebody to stay here with you and Mom."
"I want to come with you!"
"Oh, Dawn, think. She's looking for you. You can't go anywhere near her. Even Spike knew that."
Dawn plopped onto the bed, fighting tears of frustration and fear. "All I am is a reason for people getting hurt."
"Dawnie, no." Buffy crouched next to her and took her hands. "You're my sister. I love you."
"Only because the monks told you to."
She shrugged. "Maybe so. Doesn't make it less real. You're not Pinocchio, you're a real girl. I admit, I've imagined what it might have been like if it were just me and Mom here. And I think of all the times she must have sat here alone while I was out Slaying, how lonely and worried she must have been. And I am so grateful those monks gave her you."
"But it's not real."
"What's real? There's probably a dimension somewhere where you never showed up and I'm currently fighting some mutant aardvark or something. Or Riley didn't leave, or I was never the Slayer and I'm writing you letters from Northwestern." She managed a convincing shrug. "But we're here, and in this dimension I have to either go save a stupid bleached vampire's butt or stop him from talking. It's what we've got."
She ducked her head and grinned. "Did that sound as pretentious to you as it did to me?"
"Probably more." Dawn hugged her hard. "Be careful."
"I will. So, who should I wake up first?" She played eenie meenie minie moe in her head and came up with Xander and Anya.
Xander sounded remarkably awake but annoyed. Buffy winced as she imagined what she'd interrupted. "Xander, it's me."
"What's wrong?"
"It's Spike." She winced again, waiting for the standard Xander-dismissal of Spike. But Xander's voice was tense when he replied.
"What's he done?"
"Been taken by Glory's goons."
"Huh?"
A summary later, Buffy asked for Anya. "Anya, do you know how to get hold of Giles?"
"Giles? Well, yes, I do--Xander!"
The phone was yanked from her hand. "And what do you need Giles for?" Xander demanded.
"I'm going to need help," Buffy admitted. "He's the toughest person we've got on tap. And . . . I know he'll go all the way when it comes to keeping Dawn out of Glory's hands."
He was quiet for a few moments. "The Parkeview, right?"
"Yeah."
"I'll meet you there."
"Xander, no! You can't."
"No, what I can't is I can't let you go out there with just an unchipped, unsouled vampire backing you up."
"He wants to stop Glory as much as we do, I'll be fine."
"That's good to know. I'll meet you there. Here's Anya." He handed the phone over.
"I have Giles' cell phone number," Anya said.
"Thanks. Can't you make him stay home?"
"You are joking, right? The testosterone is running." She sighed. "At least I got a few orgasms before you called."
Buffy decided not to let that thought get too far into her cerebral cortex and asked for Giles' phone number.
She had finished getting dressed before she got the nerve to dial the number. "Hello?" answered the so-very-familiar, slightly baffled voice.
"It--it's me, Giles."
"Buffy? How did you get this number?"
The snap in his voice made her flinch. "From Anya. It's an emergency. It's Spike."
"What's happened?"
She told the story once more. The other end of the line was silent. "Giles?"
"I don't suppose you'll let me deal with this myself."
"Uh, duh."
"Of course not. Damn, none of my people has the least idea of fighting intelligently. Do you need a ride? You're on my way."
"Thanks. I'll be ready."
"Who's looking after Dawn?"
"Anya's calling Willow and Tara, they should be here soon."
"And your mother?"
"Is hopefully still asleep. I'll meet you outside."
"All right."
Dawn had observed the entire conversation. "Do you think you can trust him?"
"I guess we'll find out." She opened her window. "Can you get downstairs without waking Mom?"
"Oh, sure, I'll go out my--Yeah, I can do it."
Buffy heard the fates singing a variant on that old maternal stand-by, "I Hope You Have A Kid Who's Just Like You." But arguing about sneaking out the window would have to wait. "I need you inside, Dawn. Go down the stairs, wait for Willow and Tara."
Not being quite dumb enough to look a gift avoided fight in the mouth, Dawn just nodded and went.
Buffy herself went out the window, bag of weapons over her shoulder. A few minutes later, Willow and Tara ran up. "Glory has Spike?" Willow gasped. "She thinks he's the key?"
"Her wrinkly guys think he knows who the key is."
"Which he does," Tara said. "Gosh. But he wouldn't tell."
"He may not have to. If she eats his mind ..."
The two witches looked at each other. "What are you going to do?" Willow asked.
"Whatever I have to to keep her from finding out."
"But how?"
Tires squealed as a car came around the corner down the street. Willow and Tara grabbed hands when they recognized the red BMW.
Buffy shrugged. "I'm taking help."
Tara frowned. "But he's--"
"Super strong, super fast, and I don't have to worry about something happening to him anymore." Buffy didn't mention Xander. "Hold the fort here, guys."
She ran to the street. The car braked hard but didn't come to a complete stop. Buffy vaulted over the passenger side and landed in the seat next to Giles. They sped off. Willow and Tara watched a moment, then headed towards the house.
"Shouldn't the lights be on?" Buffy said to Giles.
"Yes, I suppose so." He made no move to turn the headlights on, steering smoothly around another corner. The car actually seemed able to keep up with vampire reflexes. "You should have your seat belt on."
"Uh huh. The Parkeview."
"Right."
- **
Spike blinked back to consciousness, saw the tousled blonde hair and perfect face, and he knew he was dead. "Oh, my god, Harmony, what are you doing here?"
The woman blinked at him. "No, 'oh, my god, Glory.' Totally different noun. But you're right on the god part."
He finally cleared his vision, but the situation didn't improve. He was in a chair, tied up and held tight by two of the ugly demons in robes. The woman in front of him looked like any of a hundred daft females who spent more time on fashion than anything requiring any sort of intelligence, and the room was furnished on the wealthy line between tacky and gaudy. And Spike would rather be back in that wheelchair dealing with a bored Angelus than where he was now.
"Oh," he said intelligently. "So you're her. Glory. The hellgod."