( continues...) slayer and her allies. We thought it was the original. I mean, Buffy.”

“The chick he used to bang,” said Amy. “You turn such an interesting sort of red, you know that?”

Riley ignored her, as best he could.

“So anyway,” said Amy, seizing the moment. “Buffy and her pals turned the Army down flat. Bad blood. So GI Joe here put together a bunch of replacements. I get to fill in for the witch,” she smiled at Oz again, “Oz there gets to fill in for their gopher,” Oz cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing, “and you get to be Buffy’s stunt double.” Everyone let this sink in.

“This is going to be so much fun. Now all we need is a watcher and a vampire with a soul, and it’ll be just like old times.

“We’re working on it,” said Riley.

Wow. Color me incredibly hooked.

Or, as we say around these parts, "Oh, 'cause Wes and, what season is this? Is Spike? Dude!"

Spoiler-fonted because I have no idea if people want to hear my spec.

Never liked Amy. Maybe she'll die horribly.

Victor, fun!

Two quick drabbles here; this week's Open on Sunday theme was games. I'm afraid I went rather dark with the idea.

One

There is plague in Plymouth Colony.

ring around the roses

The blonde woman, with her curving smile and breath tasting of darkness, moves out of the shadows. The old man is alone; his family has fled, driven into the night by their terror of the buboes, the fever, the smell of death and contagion.

pocket full of posies

"Well, now." She smiles down at the dying man. He once paid her to flog him, calling her by a different woman's name. "What have we come to, here?"

ashes ashes

"All fall down," and she bends, eyes golden, to his throat.

Two

Faith, circling, smiling, feral, predatory. Buffy, hands manacled. Angel, giving that smile, the one Buffy remembers from her nightmares, her fantasies....

(hands in manacles, Angel touching his tongue to her, she can't go anywhere, she can't break the chains, she can never break the chains, she doesn't want to...)

Faith, smug, wanting to damage, flaunting what she thinks she's acquired from Buffy the rival, the Chosen, the golden favoured one. "When you're boyfriend's cutting into you..."

Buffy pulls her hands free, meets Angel's eye. "Psych", she tells Faith coldly.

They've been playing a game, here. Nothing more; just a game.

Never liked Amy. Maybe she'll die horribly.

It really is the island of misfit Scoobie wannabes. As to Amy dying, well ...

They've been playing a game, here. Nothing more; just a game.

I was too tired to follow this last nigh, but I like it a lot.

Thankee, sir. I'm actually fonder of Darla dancing through bubonic plague, but hell, I'm very very weird that way.

Don't worry. I liked that too.

In the city
Part Six: Pasts Imperfect

Justine followed Oz back down the hallway toward her room.

“Any more surprises I should brace for,” she asked.

“Definitely,” he said, handing her a file and a small stack of forms.

Clipped to the file was a photo of a teenaged boy.

“Who’s this?” she asked, “he looks familiar.”

“You don’t know him?” asked Oz, but it was one of those questions where you know the asker already knows the answer.

“Should I?”

“Yeah,” said Oz, taking the file back. “You should. He’s going to remember you.”

“So why don’t you tell me about it?”

“I’m working on it. Docs say you have a traumatic memory loss. Amy says differently. Says your memories have been magically altered.”

“You trust her?”

“Not really. Went to high school with her for a while. Had it kind of rough. Her mom was a witch who traded bodies with her to make the cheerleading team.”

“That’s … really weird.”

“And then she turned herself into a rat and was stuck like that for years.”

“And just when I thought I had it bad.”

“She still has a thing for cheese.”

Justine laughed, first time she’d laughed in ages. Maybe years.

“And what about you?” she said. “What’s your story?”

“That’s … complicated.”

“I’ve got time.”

The moment hovered for a moment.

“I don’t,” said Oz. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Justine watched him walk away, and then turned and scanned her new room. It could be any soldier’s room, she thought. Anywhere.

Cautiously, she climbed onto the mattress and laid her head on the pillow, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, she slept.