Where’s the Doctor? – Chapter Ten

Title: Where’s the Doctor?
Rating: PG at most
Pairing: Spike/Buffy

Summary: Some time ago, I wrote a short fic called Who’s the Doctor?. It was an AU version of “As You Were” that involved some characters from the recent seasons of Doctor Who. I’m having problems categorizing the current fic, because it’s a prequel from the Doctor’s point of view and a sequel from Buffy and Spike’s. As far as BTVS is concerned, it’s during or after an AU Season 6 where Spuffy is a happy reality and all the characters get along, more or less. In the Whoverse, it takes place during Tom Baker’s reign, when he was traveling with Leela.

Chapter One is here.

Chapter 10

“What is this thing?” asked Leela, pointing as they walked through the cemetery.

“A crypt,” said the Doctor. “A burial place.”

“Actually, I call it home,” said Spike, patting the wall as he passed it.

“And I call this home,” said the Doctor.

As he turned toward the TARDIS, several forms emerged from the darkness, surrounding them.

“Oh, dear,” said the Doctor, scanning the circle of Fyarl demons. They were still a bit dented by their recent encounters with his companions, which only increased their aura of menace. That didn’t deter him from appealing to their nearly nonexistent powers of reason. “You know, I’ve chatted with your employer, but I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to really get to know each other. In fact, I’m not sure you’ve really understood your employer’s intentions. Do you realize that you are aiding someone who may destroy not just you, but …”

The Fyarl closest to him sneezed, stopping him mid-sentence.

“Bit of a relief, that.” Spike regarded the frozen Doctor with slightly queasy satisfaction. “I think that was working up to be a devilishly long speech.”

“What has happened to him?” Leela reached out a hand to touch the Doctor, then moved back, thinking better of it.

“Paralyzing mucous.” As the Fyarls drew closer, Spike moved to guard Buffy’s back. “Stay clear of their noses unless you want to wind up like your friend.”

Leela shouldered her rebar and had set about her work when she heard Buffy say, “You know what, Leela? I think we have a thorny situation here.”

Leela smiled and reached for a pouch she wore at her waist.

In short order, the Fyarls had all been knocked unconscious, either by sheer force or by the venom from her Janis thorns. But as one thudded to the ground another rose slowly to its feet and plowed back into the fight.

“This strategy will not work.” Leela stepped back, panting. “Even the Janis thorns paralyze them for only a few minutes. No matter how many times we defeat them, they rise again.”

Buffy clutched her head with both hands, trying to remember everything she knew about Fyarl demons. The first thing that came to mind was that Spike had once hired some. She looked at him. “Any insight into Fyarl psychology?”

“Not much, but then there’s not much to see.” Spike frowned. “Thick as two short bricks, they are.”

“If we have intellectual superiority, why do we not use that?” asked Leela reasonably.

“Hmmm.” The biggest Fyarl was groaning and trying to get up. Spike grabbed him and pulled him to his knees. “Tell me mate, why do you keep attacking us?”

The Fyarl looked confused. Spike gave him a shake. “Come on, it’s not a trick question!”

“We smash. We get money,” said the demon at last.

“No, you smash, you get smashed by me and these charming ladies.” Spike pointed at Buffy and Leela. “Lots of smashes already tonight.”

“Hurts,” muttered one of the other Fyarls.

“Yeah, I bet it hurts.” Spike looked around and saw he had all the demons’ attention. “And did you get money already?”

The Fyarls considered this. One stuck a hand in its pocket and pulled out some bills before nodding. “Have money.”

“So if you have money, why stay to get smashed?”

This puzzle was too much for them, and Spike had to explain slowly. “No more smash. Go. Spend money.”

Buffy and Leela watched as the five enormous demons got up and walked away, scratching their heads as they wondered why they hadn’t stopped being smashed earlier in the evening.

“My guy. Smarter than a Fyarl.” Buffy walked over to take Spike’s arm and lean against his shoulder. “I’m so proud.”

“How sweet. You’re her hero. Not that it will do any good.”

They looked up at Ethan’s words to find him standing between the crypt and the TARDIS. He was holding a gun.

Chapter Eleven

Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/299782.html