Where’s the Doctor? – Chapter Eleven

This entry is part 11 of 12 in the series Where's the Doctor
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A few hours to go, but I have looked on the wine when it is red (not to mention drinking it), so I better get the last two chapters up while I can still manage to get at least half the links right.

Chapter 11

Spike moved forward, but Ethan calmly turned the muzzle in his direction. “This may not kill you, but it will stop you, and I’m quite sure it will kill both your lady companions.” He leered at Buffy and Leela as he stepped backward. “I couldn’t guess where you’d hidden the Key, if it wasn’t with dear Giles or at your house. But after your escape, I performed the due diligence I failed to exercise earlier and discovered that the Slayer has become notorious for playing hootchie cootchie with a vampire.”

Buffy firmed her jaw. “I’ll hootchie my cootchie with whoever I please.”

Ethan was backing up, and Buffy realized that his goal was not the TARDIS, but Spike’s crypt. The door was giving him trouble, as he was attempting to open it one-handed and without taking his gaze off the others. “Naughty, naughty. I’ll have to tell Giles on you, if I stay in Sunnydale long enough, which of course I won’t.” He managed to ease the heavy door open slightly. “I’ll be very surprised if the Key isn’t inside this crypt. Now, don’t worry, once I find it, I’ll be off. I’m very goal-oriented and I’ve learned my lesson about staying on to gloat after—”

Ethan’s eyes slid up into the top of his head just before his body slid to the ground.

A tall girl with very long brown hair stood in the doorway. She wore jeans, a t-shirt, and a smile of infinite satisfaction. She was holding a tire iron.

“Dawn!” Buffy’s voice was more anxious than it had been when facing the Fyarl demons or Ethan’s gun. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving your butts.” Dawn beamed with pride. “Clem called and told me this guy was asking questions about Spike, so I figured he was going to head here next. I couldn’t reach you, so I decided to take care of it myself.”

“You could have been killed!” Or worse, thought Buffy, visions of colliding dimensions making her heart contract with fear.

“By this clown and a bunch of stupid Fyarl demons?” Dawn sniffed. “No way. I brought an invisibility charm so I could hide from the Fyarls and this…” she waved the tire iron, “for him.” She prodded Ethan with her toe.

Leela nodded approvingly. “You are a warrior, like your sister.”

“She needs a spanking.” But Buffy found herself smiling at Leela. “You’re not bad yourself. But what about your friend? He’s awfully snotty.” She thought about her words. “I mean, mucousy. I think he’s pretty nice, really. When he’s not playing statue.”

“Should be wearing off soon.” Spike poked a careful finger at the frozen figure, and the coating shattered, breaking away neatly and leaving the Doctor to pick up his speech precisely where he had left off. “…the totality of existence. It might be a good time for you to consider a change of employment…” He ground to a halt again, this time silenced by the sight of their enemy’s body lying motionless and the total absence of angry Fyarls. “Hmmm…” He raised his eyebrows interrogatively. “Would anyone be willing to explain what just happened?”

While Leela brought the Doctor up-to-date, Buffy and Spike went to check on Ethan.

“We need to tie him up. He always runs away.” Buffy prodded the unconscious form. “But what do we do with him then?”

“Duh.” Dawn rolled her eyes. “He’s supposed to be in jail, right? We can dump him on the doorstep of the police station, ring the doorbell, and run.”


Chapter Twelve

Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/300084.html

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