Where'd they get CAT scan from?... I mean, did they test it on cats? Or does the machine sort of look like a cat?

Dawn ,'Sleeper'


Buffista Fic: It Could Be Plot Bunnies  

Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.


Connie Neil - Dec 15, 2002 10:25:46 pm PST #639 of 10001
brillig

Dreg hunched down into his robes. "What, pretty shiny sparkling one?"

Glory backhanded him across the room. "A vampire is not the Key, idiot!" She tucked a curl back behind her ear and turned back to Spike. "So, why the heck did Smirg think you were my Key? Were you and the Slayer's baby sister talking about it? And what is up with that, anyway, you playing babysitter to a Slayer's bratty kid sister?"

"Not hardly," Spike smirked.

"Stocking the larder? You fattening her up or something?"

One of the other demons leaned forward. "This is the vampire with the chip, splendiferous one." Spike sneered at him.

"Oh, *you're* him." Glory poked a finger around in Spike's hair. "Gee, blond envy much?" Spike glanced at her hair. "Hey, this is natural, buddy. So there's a chip in your head, huh?"

"Uh, yeah."

"A chip in your brain," she said thoughtfully, digging her fingernail against his scalp. "That's gotta hurt."

Spike gasped as the skin was sliced open. Blood trickled through his hair. He heard a grating sound as Glory kept digging. She was chipping at his skull.

"So, you and--oh, yeah, Dawn, you were strolling along chatting about the Key, hm? You know who it is?"

"N--no, I don't."

Glory drew back her hand to look at her bloody finger, tsked, and flicked something out from under the nail. "Does she?" She reached back to his head.

"She's a kid, what does she know?"

"That's why I'm asking you." He couldn't help the wince as she went back to work. "You've got a thick skull. You and little Dawnie, chatting about the Key. What did you say?"

"Just--wondering." He saw a few small flecks of something fly from his head. Blood ran past his ear and down his neck.

"About what?" Glory cleaned her fingernail again. She peered at his head and turned her hand to get a better angle.

"About--about where it was, what to do about it, how to keep it away from you."

"Oh, now, is that nice? That's my Key, my very own special glowy Key, and I need it to get home." She twisted her wrist, and there was an audible pop. Spike bit his tongue to keep from yelling as he felt his skull break and something sink through. "No ideas on where the key is?" Glory asked. He didn't answer, and she frowned at him. "Oh, sorry." She pulled her fingertip free. "There you go."

Spike shook his head, unable to speak just yet.

"Well, poo. Oh, dammit, I broke a nail." She peered closely at her fingertip. "Is that brain? So much for the piano lessons, huh?" She held her hand out imperiously, and one of the demons dashed forward to wipe her finger.

"Why'd anybody tell me or the kid where the Key is, anyway?" Spike said. It had been a long time since he'd been tortured for a reason instead of just for fun, but the techniques of misdirection were coming back to him. "I didn't think anybody knew."

Glory patted his cheek. "Somebody knows, pookie. My guys have talked to somebody who knows."

"So why isn't he tied to the chair getting a trepanning?"

She slapped him, knocking the chair over and bouncing his head off the carpet. "Because you are." She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back up. "So if you don't know, who in that little bunch would?" She poked through his hair until she found the hole she'd made. "How far in is that chip, anyway?"

"It's not in there anymore!"

"Excuse me?"

"I've got my bite back." He jerked his head at the demons. "Ask them, they must have heard. I thought everybody knew by now."

Glory looked at her minions. "Well?"

Dreg consulted with the others. "Most awe-inspiring impressiveness, there have been some rumors that this Spike creature has been feeding on humans again."

"And you still thought he was innocent enough to be the Key? Why can't minions be fanatically loyal *and* smart, huh?" she said to Spike, who thought better of answering. "Any other little tidbits you've heard?"

"He lusts after the Slayer," one of the demons offered.

Glory frowned at Spike. "That scrawny thing?" He shrugged. "Go on, guys."

"He's been seen with the Slayer's Watcher," Dreg said. "The Watcher is a vampire now."

After a moment's thought, Glory walked over to Dreg. "The Slayer's Watcher has been turned into a vampire."

"Yes, most--"

A wave of her hand cut him off. "And when did this little event happen?"

"Several weeks ago, Glorificus."

Slowly she wrapped her hand around the front of his robe and lifted him up so she could look him in the eye. "The Slayer's Watcher, her greatest ally and a threat to me all by himself, was turned into a demon-possessed killer, and you didn't think I'd want to know?"

Dreg bowed his head. "I am a worm, most profound arbiter of my fate. Flay me alive and wrap my beating heart in my skin."

"Not in this dress I'm not, it's Versace." She pulled her arm back, preparatory to throwing him through the wall, then hesitated. "He'd know."

"Most holy?"

Glory dropped Dreg on the floor and went back to Spike. "The Watcher. He knows where the Key is, doesn't he."

"The Watcher?" Spike shrugged as well as he was able. "I wouldn't know, me and him, mostly we talk about killin' and--" He barely muffled the shout as she grabbed his face to hold his head still as she poked at the hole in his skull. His left cheekbone cracked under the pressure.

She hesitated, though, before she got much further into his brain than she'd already gone. "If I stick my finger too far in there, your voice could go all woobly along with your memories. So no more brain surgery." She let him go and smiled at his mingled gasp of relief and pain. "Heart surgery, now . . ." The smile never changed as she punched two fingers into his chest and snapped a piece off a rib. "Just got to make room to


Connie Neil - Dec 15, 2002 10:26:41 pm PST #640 of 10001
brillig

"Just got to make room to work."

  • **

Gaah, one word short. Stupid system. So, ominous enough? I'm not sure I've got Glory right.


askye - Dec 15, 2002 10:36:56 pm PST #641 of 10001
Thrive to spite them

Well that was a much more disturbing (and interesting) torture scene than what ME showed us.

I think your Glory is close. It's been awhile since I've seen a full episode with her, but she's more...I'm not sure. I like the Tentpeg, stake thing though.


Elena - Dec 16, 2002 12:09:10 am PST #642 of 10001
Thanks for all the fish.

You broke Spike's cheekbone. HIS CHEEKBONE!!! You bastard!

I like your Glory, but maybe she needs more of the princess tone - I'm not sure that you can replicate her horrible pronunciation, the d'ing of ts and the like.


Connie Neil - Dec 16, 2002 12:36:40 am PST #643 of 10001
brillig

Not airheady enough, got it.


Elena - Dec 16, 2002 12:52:21 am PST #644 of 10001
Thanks for all the fish.

And what about the CHEEKBONE!!!! It's like, like, like doodling a moustache on the Mona Lisa.


Am-Chau Yarkona - Dec 16, 2002 2:52:06 am PST #645 of 10001
I bop to Wittgenstein. -- Nutty

Yeah, Glory could use a little more airhead. (oh, dear. Porn hath corrupted me.)

Also 'goons'? It may be canon, I can't remember, but I thought it was a British word- it doesn't feel quite right with the American voices.

Elena is right about the cheekbone, too. Evil in a good way.

And-while I'm talking to you, connie, you're evil in a bad way, too. I posted the second Bun story at ff.n yesterday, and this morning I have two new reviews, both of which are good and imply I should write another one. Good is nice, but writing another one is not.


P.M. Marc - Dec 16, 2002 2:53:38 am PST #646 of 10001
So come, my friends, be not afraid/We are so lightly here/It is in love that we are made; In love we disappear

Also 'goons'? It may be canon, I can't remember, but I thought it was a British word- it doesn't feel quite right with the American voices.

Pretty sure we use goons pretty often stateside.


Am-Chau Yarkona - Dec 16, 2002 2:57:16 am PST #647 of 10001
I bop to Wittgenstein. -- Nutty

Pretty sure we use goons pretty often stateside.

That's pretty good, then, my pretty one.


P.M. Marc - Dec 16, 2002 3:02:09 am PST #648 of 10001
So come, my friends, be not afraid/We are so lightly here/It is in love that we are made; In love we disappear

Sixty-three more words and I can go to bed.