She Will Rememer Him?
Disclaimer: Joss is the boss.
Timeline: Alternate season 2.
Summary: As we know, in summer of 2000 monks had rewritten everybody’s memories. What do characters remember about the events of season 2 now?
A/N: Many thanks to deird1, my wonderful beta who helped me with grammar, style and characters voices. All mistakes are mine. And many thanks to enigmaticblues for organizing this event.
Dawn Summers, 12.
My sister is a bitch.
Not only has she got her Mr. Tall, Handsome and Broody at her feet. Not only is she always teasing poor Xander instead of telling him honestly that he’d better turn his attention to her nice and cute little sister. But that’s not enough. Now she’s playing her evil games with that new hot vampire guy who arrived last week and became the new Evil Overlord of Sunnydale.
What? It’s not me who came up with that stupid title. It was our local wizard, Andrew Wells. I hear it from him, like, a thousand times a day – no wonder it got stuck in my mind. I think Andrew’s gay. He can’t stop talking about Spike and he drools every time he mentions his name.
Yes, the Evil Overlord’s name is Spike. Very phallic name and it totally suits him. The guy is sex on legs, really. I know I shouldn’t talk like this because I’m a minor and all, but I’m wise beyond my years. Sometimes I feel like I’m really, really old – but, anyway…
So, Andrew has a big brother, Tucker – a total nerd who thinks he’s cool because he visits vampire brothels and meets real vampires. They suck his blood (ewww!) and tell him all the local news, so he’s always in the loop. Last Tuesday Tucker told Andrew that a new player has arrived in town. His name is Spike and he plans to kill the Slayer – i.e. my sister.
Oh, and they’re planning the next apocalypse for Saturday. The Day of Sid Vicious or something like that.
Naturally I tried to warn Buffy. Over the dinner I told her I had secret information about the Day of Sid Vicious. Mom smiled nostalgically and said she has never been into punk and that in my age she was mad about Seals and Crofts. Adults are so weird.
But it was Buffy who drove me mad. Instead of asking details about the Day of Sid Vicious she told mom I’m always making up stuff to draw attention to myself. I decided the bitch totally deserved to get killed.
That night me and Andrew sneaked into the Bronze to look at that Spike guy. We figured out it’s the only place he could go in our dead-boring town. Guess what we saw. Yes, exactly. This new guy, Spike, totally yummy and droolworthy, was ogling my sister on the dance floor as she was shamelessly showing off – shaking her boobs, swaying her hips, sending him unequivocal “come and get me” signals. Disgusting, really.
That Spike guy is definitely a perv, because he looked mesmerized. The band on stage were crooning about “one step away from crashing on my knees, one step away from spilling my love to you”, and that’s exactly what he looked like – just One. Step. Away. From. Spilling.
But he didn’t. Instead, he lured my sister out of Bronze to watch the Slayer in her natural habitat – i.e. a stinking dirty alley. He got more than he bargained for. She demonstrated him all her trademark slayer strengths – like firmly gripping a phallic-shaped object (her stake), making vague sexual quips and looking self-righteous.
I have to give Spike his due – he tried to resist. He even promised to kill her on Saturday (and instantly became my hero). But – why wait till Saturday, Spikey? Yes, exactly. Poor thing. I knew he was doomed to fall for her the way poor Angel did.
Two days later my sister and Spike had their first rough-and-tumble during the parent-teacher night. Mom left me at home but Andrew told me that Spike planned to crash the party so we crept into school and hid in the utility closet in the school hall.
We waited for a long time but it was totally worth it. No, seriously. Angel dragged poor Xander to school and offered him to that Spike guy. Honest to God. It looked like Angel and Spike were old buddies. Andrew told me a threesome was on the way. (No wonder our movie theater is always empty. Who needs movies when you have THIS in real life?) But the guys weren’t in a hurry – they talked a bit about good old times.
Then the Evil Overlord of Sunnydale said something from those stupid Star Wars movies. Damn. Andrew got incredibly excited, started babbling and whimpering in my ear and I missed the rest. But it looked like they had a disagreement. Angel took Xander with him and left poor Spike to the mercy of fate. Or, rather, to my sister’s grabby little hands.
It was a depressing sight. Buffy strutting in front of him, wiggling her skinny ass and making her usual annoying sexual innuendos. “Do we really need weapons for this? – blah-blah-blah.” The bitch promised him a long and torturous death – I think she figured out he’s a masochist.
Then they went mano-a-mano and got carried away so much that it took our mom with an axe to tear them apart.
Now the Evil Overlord of Sunnydale is also totally obsessed with my sister. It’s unfair. He deserves much, much better. I have to stop it – but the only way to get to him is through Andrew. After all, he’s a wizard, isn’t he?
Andrew Wells, 14.
It sucks to be The Greatest Wizard of Sunnydale.
I didn’t believe Tucker when he warned me, but now I see that he’s right. I’d rather not be The Great Wizard but who else could I be? Superman is so eighties. Batman just isn’t cool anymore. When I went to watch “Batman and Robin”, Jonathan mocked me, Tucker mocked me and even his pathetic vampire ‘hos who always look at me with hungry eyes mocked me.
Everybody mocks me, even the Slayer’s sister. She wants me to cast a love spell on Sp… on a guy she fancies. And I can’t do it, because Tucker, that idiot, gave his spell book to Amy Madison. Last year I learned a couple of elementary spells but I hardly remember them. I begged Tucker to xerox the spell book but he said he would only lend it for a few days. And gave it to that ditz. Of course she didn’t return it.
Now I have to invent totally ridiculous excuses to explain why I don’t do magic. Like, it’s wrong to brainwash people. Totally lame. No wonder Summers-jr. mocks me too.
It’s not fair. She’s supposed to be my friend. Not that I need her friendship – she’s giggly, bossy and bratty. A girl. Girls are icky. I’m just pretending I’m her friend. But I need her to worm out valuable information about the Slayer’s life to get even with Tucker when he starts boasting the next time. So I keep telling Dawn she’s a nice girl and she should understand how hard is to be the junior in a family of jerks. I thought she’d be sympathetic to my wizard problems. But she immediately started bossing me around and demanding the impossible.
Since the arrival of that new Evil Overlord of Sunnydale she only thinks about him. She wants to save him from the evil clutches of her sister.
Dawn is unstoppable. Even after she got bitten by some crazy vampgirl (Dawn swears she didn’t go to the vampire brothel!) she didn’t give up.
Initially she planned to approach Spike (the Evil Overlord’s name is Spike) at Halloween. Unfortunately (or fortunately, who knows) she had chosen the costume of an orchid and spent the whole night in a vase in an old lady’s apartment.
Dawn was furious. I tried to convince her that she was lucky that the lady put her in a vase, not in a garbage bin. My words of wisdom calmed her down till the next day, when Slayer’s minions, Harris and Rosenberg, reenacted the scene of the Slayer’s confrontation with the Evil Overlord of Sunnydale in all its sordid glory, with all her usual lame seducing techniques (“Hi, honey, I’m home!” etc.) Thank God – Spike didn’t buy the Slayer’s tricks, so she just beat him up and let him go till the next time she’d be in the mood for a bit of violence.
After that incident Dawn became desperate about saving poor Spike. She tried to get to him through vampire groupies who call themselves the society of The Lonely Ones. It was organized by the Slayer’s next toy-boy du jour, Billy Fordham. Not as cool as Angel, Spike or Harris but still. Oh, and I can’t figure out if Harris should be counted as the Slayer’s love interest or her minion – but I digress…
I suppose these vampire groupies don’t have money to pay the vampire-hos for suck-jobs. So they decided to offer themselves to Spike in the hope that he’d generously suck them for free. He was happy to oblige – the guy has a big heart, really – but as soon as the Slayer found out that Fordham guy planned to succumb to Spike’s charms behind her back, she went postal. She locked Dawn up in her room, stormed into the vampire groupies’ basement club and chased them away to the other side of the world. That girl doesn’t like to share!
Actually I understand her – in her place I’d lock Spike in a cage, preferably naked and…
No! I should stop thinking about it. He’d sire me for sure and I’m too young to get sired. I have to wait till I reach at least 18 and become a devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful guy. Then I’ll find myself a devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful sire who will turn me into a devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful creature of darkness.
And if my plan A fails, I have my plan B – the Augmentation spell. It’s tricky but the payoff is worth it. I’ll become the handsomest vampire on earth – tall, broody, sparkling with… with… OK, just sparkling. And – without any sun allergies. And – with a nice, sweet vampire family.
Jonathan Levinson says he knows how to make the Augmentation spell. It’s useful to have friends like Jonathan. He knows I’m into vampires but don’t want to get bitten, so he made the elixir of unattainability for me. You drink it, somebody tries to bite you, he gets zapped. Like, by electricity. Cool idea.
I tested it on Tucker. I drank the elixir and started to annoy the hell out of him. He tried to cuff me and got a jolt. He tried to hit me and got such a strong shock he staggered back. Incredible fun, honestly.
But it turns out Jonathan’s elixir has terrible after-effects. Half an hour of unattainability are followed by an hour of utter attainability. Bummer. I wish I could forget how I implored Tucker to ravish me. At least since that day he consistently avoids me.
But I made a fatal mistake. Dawn knew that Jonathan worked on the elixir. I boasted to her when he cooked the first portion. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about the outcome of my test. I told her the elixir works but needs a bit of improvement.
Then I meet Jonathan and he tells me he gave Dawn a vial I ordered. What vial, I ask. The vial with the elixir, says this jerk. And I realize I’m knee-deep in shit.
Scrap that. I’m neck-deep in shit.
Spike (aka William the Bloody), 142.
I don’t understand why Dru ran away from me. I suspect it’s part of the Slayer’s scheme to drive me nuts.
Several days after our arrival Dru went for a walk. Half an hour later she returned to the factory – strong, healed and way crazier than usual. She told me she met a girl who was a green ball of energy. Dru tasted her and instantly got her strength back – but she started seeing other worlds beyond the walls, whatever that means. Poor Dru sobbed and moaned and I could hardly persuade her to sleep it off. When I woke up in the evening, she was gone and nobody knew where she went. So I’m staying here, like a wanker, in hope she’ll be back.
My hopes dwindle with every passing day. Why should she return? Sunnyhell is a terrible town crawling with Inca mummies, giant snakes, vampire groupies, annoying brats and furious parents. And demons. And wizards. Every second resident of Sunnydale is either a demon or a wizard. They even managed to wreck the Halloween night. A vagrant sorcerer provided locals with Halloween paraphernalia that turned them into the wankers they impersonated. Pity I didn’t know in advance. I’d put a princess’ gown on Peaches, tape his behavior on camera and put the footage online.
But it was the Slayer who’s got the bloody princess dress. I know she did it to tease me and whet up my appetite. That’s all she does since I’ve arrived into this bloody town. No matter where I go, she’s always there, shaking her booty and annoying me with her oh-so-funny quips. She’s in my gut, she’s in my throat…
I wonder why I haven’t killed her yet. Come to think of it, killing the bitch would be too merciful. I have to prove to her I don’t give a damn about her.
But how can I prove anything to anybody in this bloody mess? Take this recent incident with the Slayer’s sister. This little tough cookie came to my lair and started… well, I don’t know what was on her mind, but she was yammering about her evil sister’s plans to destroy me.
I decided that the Slayer was scared witless if she sent her little sis to intimidate me. Or maybe she just wanted to get rid of the annoying brat.
Anyway I quickly got bored and decided to have a snack. And – almost got electrocuted. Every time I tried to bite the little pest I got zapped. Bugger.
And the most annoying thing? Happy Meal on legs was full of sympathy. She told me it was just a little precaution.
Damn. Turns out I should be cautious not only around the Slayer, but around her minions and her folks as well. Especially her sis.
Because, as soon as the little minx made it absolutely clear that I can’t bite her she started seducing me. When she said “Oh, Spike, I want you so much”, I thought I was hallucinating. But she continued stroking herself in the most inappropr… all the right places, moaning languidly and asking me to taste and enjoy her nubile nudity.
Oh – and she started undressing. So near and yet so far. Sheer torture.
I wonder where the Slayer gets spells that can torment a bloke like that. And why she’s targeting me instead of Peaches. And – most important – what’s the bitch’s plan?
Of course I’ve heard the rumors that the Slayer had hots for me. One of my men is dating the owner of the vampire brothel. He says all the girls are talking about it. One of their clients, Tucker Wells, has connections in the Slayer’s milieu. According to him, the Slayer fell for me since my arrival and dreams about putting me naked in a cage in her sodding basement.
Not that I believed it. I can smell a woman’s arousal. To be fair, every time I meet the Slayer she grows a bit excited, but it’s not like she’s dripping with lust. I can smell curiosity, anger, excitement – but not sexual desire. She smells like a virgin, albeit a ripe one. (Given that she dates Peaches – not surprising at all.)
Of course, in a town full of sorcerers and wizards there’s always a possibility that she’s hiding her real scent with a glamour and actually she smells like a bitch in heat. And if she really plans to turn me into her sexual slave, it’s obvious that she wants to test my willingness to shag the enemy in advance.
No wonder she sent her sister to make a recon. Elementary, dear Watson.
But, come to think of it, Slayer’s sis could be telling the truth. The Slayer could have a plan to destroy me while her sis could be trying to protect my ass. Go figure.
Bloody women, they just love torturing me!
By the time the little cock-tease got undressed to her underwear I realized I couldn’t stand it anymore. I grabbed her, tied her up, put her on my shoulder and carried to the Slayer’s home. Thank God the zapping mojo works only when you try to bite or hit.
I knew I was heading into the lion’s den, but it’s one of the occupational hazards of being a vampire in Sunnydale. And it was unlikely that Slayer would dare to put me naked in a cage in her mum’s presence.
Actually, seeing the Slayer’s face when I brought her sis home was worth all the trouble.
Buffy Summers, 16.
My life sucks.
Not only do I have to patrol cemeteries instead of dancing in Bronze. Not only can’t I find a boyfriend who isn’t a vampire or a vampire-wannabe. Now I have to babysit my sister who totally hates me.
The day after the parent-teacher night Dawn came home in tears and told me she got bitten by “a pretty lady in white” so her new fluffy sweater was totally ruined. I was sure she was lying to me – I mean, how could she escape a vampire? She sobbed and sniffled and swore that she was telling the truth. So to calm her down I decided to warn her about vampires.
Guess what? Turned out she already knew everything – as well as about a lot of other stuff. She has a buddy, a jerk who calls himself a great wizard – and he enlightened my little sister about things I couldn’t imagine. (Of course I had to pretend I know everything about vampire libidos, thralls and love spells to put her down a bit.)
Mom caught us in the middle of our educational conversation. She was horrified when she saw Dawn’s blood on her sweater. We had to come up with a totally lame story about Dawn stumbling upon a sharp branch in the dark. I don’t think mom believed us. She moved Dawn’s curfew from 9 to 8 p.m. and appointed me to look after her. Dawn eagerly agreed and as soon as mom left, she told me she’ll tell her all about vampires and slayers if I won’t let her return home as late as she wants.
God, I so want to kill her. She has a crush on my new pain-in-the-ass, Spike, AKA William the Bloody. Totally lame vampire whose goal is to piss me off. No matter where I go he’s always there, doing this weird sort of stuff with his tongue. He’s so full of himself. Who does he think he is, coming to my town and sauntering around in his stupid duster and stupid Doc Martens – not that I look at his feet! And the shade of the nail paint he uses? Totally lame.
And the most annoying thing? Somebody spreads nasty rumors that I want to turn Spike into my sex slave. A vampire I slayed several days ago laughed at my face and told me that all the undead citizens of Sunnydale knew that I dream about putting Spike in a cage, naked and ravished by my steamy desires… Eww! At first I thought it was Spike himself who was spreading the nasty gossip but after the incident with Dawn…
Damn Dawn. On Halloween night she didn’t come home until the morning. Mom was furious. At me. For not watching my sister. A week later, when I went to investigate The Lonely Ones and to fight Spike the Pain in the Ass, I locked Dawn in her room. When I came back she told me I was her enemy #1. And yesterday it was Spike who brought her home.
Yep, you heard it right. Spike brought her home. Half-naked. Crying and saying words I don’t want to repeat, about wishing him to take her, about his sexy vampire body… like I said, I don’t want to repeat it!
I wondered all night long why Spike hadn’t eaten her. Maybe even vampires can’t stand her? Or maybe Spike has an evil plan to get to me through my sister. Maybe he knows that me and Dawn are at daggers and he spared her to make me miserable.
Damn Spike. Horny moron. Apparently he thought I really was dreaming about turning him into my sex slave. “I reckon, Slayer, your precious Peaches has taught you and your bloody sis everything he knows about sexual slavery…” I mean – how disturbing it that?
At least now I know that it wasn’t him who spread the gossip about me. But if it wasn’t him, then who did it? If I find out I’ll kill that SOB.
Should I slay Spike after what happened? Or should I spare him? After all, he brought my sister home. Well, he said annoying things about teenagers’ morals but as soon as I said he sounded like Giles he shut up immediately. His pout was so funny. Actually, he’s a cutie… I mean – absolutely disgusting! And I have to slay him ASAP!
Or, at least, I have to prove that I don’t give a damn about him. Because, you know, I have a boyfriend. My Angel. Who gets all fidgety every time I start talking about Spike. Dawn says vampires also have families, and they all have sex with each other but I don’t think that Spike and Angel… Damn, I need to bleach my mind!
I’m sure Dawn made it up to piss me off. Angel isn’t gay. Spike isn’t gay. When Spike brought Dawn home, for a brief moment I thought it was an excuse to invite me for a date. You know, vampires. Like, he doesn’t want to have sex with my sister, he wants it with me. When he talked about sexual slavery, he did that stupid tongue thing again…
But it turned out I was overcomplicating things. Today Dawn confessed that she had a potion that makes humans immune to vampire attacks. Dawn’s buddy made her a vial of that potion and Dawn still has some. That’s why Spike couldn’t kill her. Apparently he was hoping I would do the deed for him so he brought her to me.
To spite him I’m being very nice to her. To be fair, Dawn is full of remorse today. Looks like she has realized – finally! – that her vampire crush is ridiculous and unhealthy. She apologized. She made me tea. She even suggested I drink the last remaining portion of the elixir when I go fight vampires. Not that I need it. But Dawn insists that Spike is a dangerous opponent and she is afraid for me.
She can be solicitous, you know.
Naughty Slayer. I felt her wicked nature the very moment we arrived in Sunnydale. I saw her reaching for my Spike with her little grabby hands. Lusting after him. Dancing around him, laughing and licking her hungry lips.
It was so horrible and wrong that I couldn’t bring myself to tell my Spike about it. He asked me about the Slayer and the pixies in my head sang to me that I should lie. I told him I couldn’t see the Slayer, and he believed me, my poor, sweet, evil boy. He promised that soon I’ll get healed and everything will get better.
He was right about healing. But wrong about everything else.
There is a nice playground in the park half-way from the factory to downtown. I went there several times when my Spike wasn’t around, because I love little tasty boys and girls who misbehave and run away from their mummies. They should be punished, shouldn’t they?
One day, I met a girl there. She was made of a green glow and tasted like thousand heavens and hells. After the first sip of her blood I turned into an air-bubble in a vortex of fiery liquid and… I don’t remember what happened next but when I was back, I was strong and healed. And, as I was laughing and dancing at the playground, enjoying my newfound power, innumerable gates opened and I saw the worlds beyond the wall.
And all of them were hells.
In the first hell I saw Spike living in a crypt with white picket fences. He was married to the Slayer. They had a bunch of snotty brats who called him daddy. Spike was still saying things like “bugger” and “bloody hell” but he was just a shadow of the vampire I know. Poor boy.
In the second hell I saw Spike spread-eagled on a royal bed, handcuffed, while the Slayer was licking and biting his manhood. This Spike was purring and moaning in rapture; he called the Slayer “my girl” and declared that he never had it so good – even with Angel. Did he even remember me?
In the third hell Spike, in knight’s armor and on a white horse was leading an army to save a princess Buffy who was imprisoned in a magic castle on the high cliff guarded by dementors (cute things!) orcs, aliens and trolls.
Now I know the horrible truth. There are countless hells and every one of them has its own Spike. In some hells he’s a sex slave of my Daddy who courageously protects him from evil Slayer clutches. In some of them he’s with a handsome boy who calls himself his “nummy treat”.
There are hells where poor Spike is the best basketball player in the Oxford team, or a shy virginal rebel without a cause or a pregnant he-housewife (very kinky!) I even saw a hell where he explains humanity to a blue creature with tentacles.
But in the majority of hells he’s with the Slayer and they have sex. Constantly. In every position imaginable. In the crypt with white picket fences, in the dilapidated buildings, in the Slayer’s bedroom, on the beaches, under the bleachers (in the basketball player hell). They may snark, they may coo, they may roar with passion, they may whimper and beg each other for forgiveness, wretched creatures.
But they’re together.
What could I do with my nasty secret? I couldn’t bear it and I couldn’t tell my Spike about these hells I was seeing.
I hoped the visions would stop. They didn’t. After a day’s torture I went to Los-Angeles. I heard of a wizard, Cyvus Vail, who knows all the mind tricks in the world. I was sure he’d help me.
Vail performed his strongest mind spells but my hells refused to go away. Vail was well and truly baffled. Before I snapped his neck, he told me he’d never encountered anything like this.
After the Vail fiasco I went to shamans, magicians and sorcerers. I went to shrinks, relationship counselors and even Alcoholics Anonymous. They all tasted horribly, but I still tried.
It took me several weeks to realize that nobody could help me. I have to return to Sunnydale and convince my Spike to leave that damned town as soon as possible. Before it’s too late.
I knew I had to hurry. I enthralled one of the The Hellions and he rushed me back to Sunnydale on his bike. It was a hell of a ride – an absolutely different kind of hell.
But I was late. When I entered the Factory, the first thing I noticed was the smell of lust. It was stronger than in Woodstock. I ran to the sound of blows and stopped dead in my tracks as I saw – them – half-naked, kissing, punching, devouring each other with abandon.
And the weirdest thing was, it felt… kind of right. Like coming home. The pixies in my head sang songs about thorns, crimsoned by blood, blossoming into fragrant roses in a heavenly garden where these two were Adam and Eve, blissfully happy, fiercely passionate, oblivious to the world around them, to me, to bad dog Angel who came in and froze, startled and shocked…
Then he shuddered and fell on the ground and I knew my Daddy was clawing his way back.
Hundred years ago gypsies cursed my Daddy with an abomination – a soul – but there was a catch. If he gets a moment of unrestrained fury, his soul does not plague his thoughts and is taken from him. Those stupid little gypsies argued about using happiness as a trigger, but decided against it. Fury is much better. To avoid getting furious Angel had to steel himself against any passion.
And, as Daddy says, without passion we’re truly dead.
Andrew Wells, 14.
So typically of Dawn to blame me for everything. Wasn’t it her who took the elixir without asking? Wasn’t it her who gave the last portion to the Slayer? And, by the way, the aftereffects last only an hour while her sister’s sexual marathon lasted five hours straight. And stopped only because of coitus interruptus.
If only I’d known! I would have stocked up more tape.
As soon as Dawn called me and told that Buffy drank the elixir, I grabbed my video camera, a spare cassette and a reserve accumulator and ran to the Factory. I hid at the upper deck area and peered down. Everything was quiet. No Buffy in sight. Dawn joined me pretty soon and explained that her sister was probably preening in front of the mirror, preparing for the epic fight. Girls are weird.
The Slayer arrived half-an-hour later, perfectly made up and manicured. Her flimsy top had a very low cut, her skirt looked like an oversized belt and she wore high heels. I hardly had time to switch on my camera as the Slayer tackled Spike on the ground and started to rip his shirt off. Dawn gasped and I realized the after-effects had already started working.
Dawn giggled and said that Spike would suck her dry in a heartbeat.
From our position we could clearly see that it was the Slayer who did all the sucking. Of Spike’s face, I mean. And the most annoying thing? After a while that nasty vampire stopped struggling and started to reciprocate.
Dawn was furious. She kept repeating that she came to watch an action blockbuster, not hardcore porn, and could I, please, do something to stop that outrage. But what could I do? I could only zoom in on Spike’s luscious cheekbones and contemplate delightful vampire fangs, stained with the Slayer’s blood.
Yes, Spike shed Slayer’s blood after all. No, it’s not what you think. OK, maybe it’s exactly what your think, pervs. Yes, he did it and made her enjoy it. Me, too. As I watched him licking virgin blood off the Slayer’s holiest of holies, I was enthralled and mesmerized.
Have I already mentioned that Dawn was furious? I explained her that after-effects would wear off in a few minutes. I was wrong. Thankfully.
Because the footage I made? Brilliant, just brilliant. I ran out of tape in an hour and a half, but that hour and a half are worth a million. Spike is the God of sex. In a month this guy will be an adult movie star and I will be a star-making director. Hollywood hunks will be begging for auditions and crowding in my Beverly-Hills mansion and why did I want to become a vampire? Being the next George Lucas is much better.
Right now my breakthrough directorial debut only needs opening credits – “A feature film by Andrew Wells” – and a soundtrack to cover Dawn’s whining and cursing. She was incredibly exasperating, especially when we realized the after-effects should have worn off long ago. Dawn kept asking me why slayer-on-vampire action still goes on and I told her the elixir could have gone off but she didn’t believe me.
Damn Dawn. She was so noisy. All the terrific dialogue between Spike and the Slayer is unsalvageable. Pity. There are such gems. Take for example, the bit where Spike declares he’d do anything for his sweet effulgent slayer!
It happened between the fourth and the fifth orgasm and it was an Oscar-worthy moment. When she was playing with his nipples, biting and caressing the tips, she mentioned that souls make vampire chests more lickable. He said if she preferred her vampires souled he’d get a soul, no probs, but he’s not a Poofter, so the rat diet is not for him. The Slayer assured him that Sunnydale hospital always has fresh blood supplies and she’ll even spice his food with several drops of the Slayer blood. Spike promised to go to Africa the very next day (I didn’t realize that Africa was a place where vampires grow souls). The Slayer pouted and told him he wouldn’t go anywhere. They’d be able to find a home-grown soul and could Spike, please, do that tongue thing again – the thing he did five minutes ago. Spike was happy to oblige and the show went on for another two hours.
Three orgasms later Dawn started yawning. She told me to wake her up when Spike started to eat her sister and snuggled on the mats in the corner. She almost missed the grand finale of the show.
First, I noticed a lady in a black dress who stood in the doorway. Apparently she was stunned – she just froze there gaping at them. I woke up Dawn and she whispered it was the bitch, who bit her and ruined her favorite sweater… As she was describing it, another spectator arrived – Buffy’s vampire boyfriend, Angel. Or, rather, Buffy’s vampire ex-boyfriend. He was seething with fury. I swear I could see flashes of white rage pouring out of all his orifices. Then he had a stroke or something – he staggered, convulsed and fell down unconscious.
The loud thud of his fall made Spike and the Slayer notice – finally! – that they had an audience. The Slayer rushed to Angel. Spike started explaining to the woman in black – he called her Drusilla – that it wasn’t his fault, since the Slayer took him by force and he even tried to resist, but his blood rushed in the direction opposite of his brain. Drusilla clocked him so hard he bounced off the wall. Then she left without saying a word.
I crept to the window and looked outside. A Hellion demon on his bike was waiting for her. Drusilla emerged from the factory, royally beautiful and royally pissed, got on the bike with him and off they rode, her hair blowing in the wind, her lips on his neck… They looked so sexy I felt dizzy. Maybe I should become a big damn Hellion and make Spike my pet vampire. Just think of it – me on a shiny black bike, riding into the night, with Spike gently suckling my…
I chased away these dangerous thoughts and returned to our observation post. The Slayer and Angel were brawling. When he called her a whore, she kicked him between the legs and, as he doubled over in pain and dropped to his knees, she proudly walked away, leaving him gasping and cursing.
Spike was just lying there, naked, in the corner, where Drusilla hurled him, watching them fight and smirking. Naughty Slayer had worn him out so much he could hardly move. His hair messed, his lip bleeding, his six-pack glistening… Totally yummy.
Maybe I should become a vampire after all.
Dawn Summers, 12.
I don’t talk to Andrew anymore. Well, technically he doesn’t talk to me, but it’s the same diff, isn’t it?
After all, I had no choice. Survival instinct, you know. Because, as soon as I realized that Spike wouldn’t kill Buffy I knew I’m dead. She’d kill me, slowly and sadistically. The only way to save my ass was to make her and Spike forget everything.
I knew Andrew could do it. After all, he is The Greatest Wizard of Sunnydale. But he’s a complete idiot. He always refuses to do spells because he says it was wrong. Uh-huh. Like making porn is right. He just likes to annoy me.
As soon as I saw that Andrew has put his porny cassettes into his bag I knew I had to act quickly. I had my chance only as long as Andrew was drooling over naked Spike. I yawned, then slowly backed off from our observation post. He wasn’t looking – he couldn’t tear his eyes off the outrage downstairs. So I took the cassettes from his bag and hid them under the mats in the corner.
Later, when the show was over and we headed home, I told Andrew that I had his precious tapes. He fainted. I woke him up and told that I’d give them back if he did a memory spell on Buffy and Spike. This idiot started shuffling, fidgeting and inventing his usual lame excuses – like, it’s wrong to delete memories and, besides, his brother lent the spell book to Amy Madison for a couple of days. What does he think I am, a dolt?
I knew I had to be firm. I told Andrew he could say good-bye to his porny masterpiece. He offered to make me a co-producer of “Spike Does the Slayer”. I refused. He offered to give me a screenwriter credit. I refused. He babbled something about DVD royalties but I was uncompromising.
Finally he gave up. We went to his house and he made me a bottle of water of oblivion. He mixed blackberry juice with regular water, added a bit of ashes and said a lot of weird words. He stumbled, stuttered and babbled but after a while he finished the spell and assured me that Buffy and Spike will forget everything as soon as I sprinkled them with his fluid. (Yes, I know how it sounds – but that’s what he said).
At home I found Buffy in her bedroom. She slept like the dead; she hadn’t even undressed. I poured half-a-bottle on her face (I had to make sure the liquid reached her brain ASAP). She started coughing and sputtering and then, when she woke up completely, she told me she had the most bizarre dream imaginable.
I sighed with relief and quietly withdrew before she started asking questions. Then I ran to the factory and crept in Spike’s lair. He slept soundly, happy smile on his lips, all naked and oh-so-sexy. I sprinkled him carefully – I didn’t want to wake him up. He murmured something about naughty Summers and shiny new handcuffs in his closet. I froze with fear but then I realized that he was talking in his sleep. Ugh.
After emptying all my bottle on him I went upstairs to retrieve the cassettes and…
Guess what? They’d disappeared.
I turned the upper deck inside out. Nothing. Zero. Zilch.
But of course – vampire sense of smell! Apparently Spike sniffed something out, went upstairs, found the tapes and took them. And hid somewhere.
That’s when it struck me. He hid them and I deleted his memories.
I spent the rest of the night thinking how to get me out of this lame situation and finally decided to face the consequences like a mature and responsible person. I met Andrew at school, put on my resolve face and told him that I destroyed the tapes because it’s wrong to make porn. As The Greatest Wizard of Sunnydale he should know that with great power comes great responsibility.
I thought he’d have a stroke. He shrieked. He gnashed his teeth. He sobbed and screeched. He said he always knew that all girls were mean and nasty and evil and one day or another he’ll become a master vampire and will suck me dry, but not the way I hope him to… Perv. Moron. Hack.
Yes, total hack. I know he screwed up the spell. After Valentine’s Day, when all the girls fell for Xander, Amy Madison confessed she did her spell from the book she nicked from Andrew’s brother. My worst suspicions were confirmed. That moron Andrew told me the truth about his stupid spell book. He did his spell without a book. No wonder he did it wrong.
Because even before Valentine it was apparent that his damned spell worked the wrong way. My sis and Spike were – you know, different. She blushed in his presence. He fidgeted in her presence. When she caught the flu and ended up in the hospital, I went to visit her – guess who I met? Spike with a bouquet of white roses. When he saw me, he dropped his flowers in the trash and started babbling about his regularly scheduled evil visit to the hospital to steal blood, grrr. Idiot.
A week later a case of poltergeist hit our school. Buffy got possessed by a spirit of a love-struck murderer (why am I not surprised?) Guess who got trapped by the spirit of the victim. Yes – you’re right, and, yes – it was quite a show. Andrew arrived with his camera just when they were about to switch from soap opera to porn – but they noticed him and the outrage was over.
Angel raged all over Sunnydale and shouted at every corner that the Slayer is a slut and she does every vampire she meets. Other vampires mocked him.
He added letters “u” and “s” to his name to prove that he has nothing to do with the lame Slayer’s ex-boy-toy. It didn’t help.
Royally pissed off, he decided to send everybody to hell. Unluckily for him my sis managed to cork up the hole into hell with his body.
Then she psyched out and ran away from Sunnydale. Spike left too. He was so traumatized by all those horrors, poor thing.
Bitch. It’s all her fault. The only thing in the world she’s good at is making people miserable. No wonder Spike and Angel ran away from her.
What? Yes, I know – technically, Angel didn’t run away; she sent him to hell. But I swear – that’s what he wanted. I was there when he asked Buffy to end his torment and take him out of his misery.
Of course, Buffy says I made it up. But I saw how he signaled her with his eyes!
Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/315549.html