FF A Wiccan Gets the Wiggins 11

[badbard]

So this bit explains a bit. Not much though. *EG*
Don't worry Rod, we'll get back to sweet and tender
after we do a little more plot, k? *LMAO*


11

Oz pushed me behind him with one hairy arm. "Stay
back, Willow. He's dangerous."

Giles emitted a mocking laugh. "Listen to the dumb
animal, Miss Rosenburg. Relying on instinct isn't
such a bad idea."

"Giles?" I squeaked again.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" he roared. I stumbled back,
dragging Oz with me. We were in a bad, bad situation.
This particular incarnation of Giles was definitely
slayage material and a certain Slayer was elsewhere.
Because of me. Because I didn't want to ruin what I
had for something I was too scared to hope for.
Because I was weak and wimpy and always wigging and,
and because I'm Willow. I guess I haven't changed as
much as I'd like to think I have.

"Who are you?" growled Oz, only partially blocking my
view of the librarian leaning casually against the
only exit, buffying his nails on his tweedy vest.
With a long-suffering sigh Giles turned his attention
back to us.

"It's so true what they say - you can never go back."

"Who?" demanded Oz. Giles ignored him.

"Here I am, doing my utmost to make a dramatic
comeback and you moronic children don't even have the
decency to recognise me before I eat you."

"Eat us?" I squeaked. "EAT us?"

"Do stay for lunch." Giles flashed a toothy grin.
"First I'll eat the little witch. Are you aware
magick sweetens the blood? Gives it a potent
aftertaste which is more like an aftershock. I get
tingles just salivating over it."

"Who are you?" screamed Oz while I simply stared at
the librarian. He licked his lips and favoured me
with a perky little smile and suddenly it hit me like
Buffy on a vamp. My eyes began to blur.

"No," I whispered. "You're dead. We blew you up. I
watched them wash your intestines down the
stormdrain."

"How little you know," mused Giles. "Dead? Ha ha!
Me? Well, gosh, I don't think that's possible. Not
with me being invulnerable and immortal and top of the
polls."

"Wilkins?" Oz said slowly, realisation cracking his
masklike features with fear.

"That's Mayor Wilkins to you, young man," griped the
Mayor. "The youth of today have no concept of proper
etiquette. I had such a hard time teaching Faith to
wash the dust off her hands before having heart for
dinner." His smile became a little more on the
enraged side. "Speaking of my little darling, you
should see the agonies I have planned for that bitchy
blonde ex-Slayer who did her in."

My mental computer exploded in Tiny Willow's face.
Mayor Wilkins' reptilian body might be smoking goo but
somehow, some nightmarish way, he was standing in
front of me, wearing Giles' body and a smarmy
expression. Even worse he had no idea of Faith's
current 'not hurt and homicidal' status and wanted to
hurt my Buffy. Even worse I'd already done that for
him. Tiny Willow had another horrible thought.

"W...waters of Lethe," I gasped. "Why? What did you
d...do to Buffy?"

"I inactivated the Slayer of course," smirked the
Mayor with great self-satisfaction. "First time
around the little bitch got lucky. Second time
around...well suffice to say, what second time? What
bloody 'Slayer'?" His laughter buffered painfully
around my ears.

"But Buffy's still..." Oz's furry hand clapped over my
mouth and I burned red. I couldn't belive what I'd
almost said. What I'd almost let on to Public
Enemy...albeit Servant, Number One.

"Yesss?" hissed the Mayor. "Oh don't back down now,
young lady. You look adorable when you're smelling
like fear. I could just...eat you all up." Pulling
away from Oz I burst out with a save.

"Buffy's still...still gonna get ya, you big, ugly,
dumb, ugly, big ol' meanie!"

"Enough talk," growled the mayor baring Ripper's
smile. "More screaming." Tossing his glasses aside
he leapt for me, hands stretching to crush my
windpipe.

"Ahhh!" I screamed accomodatingly as I frantically
scanned the room for a pencil. Old habits die hard.
I very much doubted the Mayor was gonna die at all.

"Willow!" cried Oz hoarsely, throwing his heavy wolf
form against the Mayor and sending them both tumbling
into a mad tusstle. "Run Willow!" As he seemed to
have the upper paw for the moment, I obeyed. Yanking
the door open I sprinted down the street, screaming
for Buffy. I needed her. We all needed her.

Huffing for breath, I rounded the corner and found
myself in front of the graveyard, squinting my eyes
against the glare of the sun sinking into the west. I
blinked. Night was coming. Already? Within four
hours of sunrise? That wasn't possible...oh wait, I
lived in Sunnyhell. Sure it was possible.
Sightseeing the devil's holiday home was possible.
Living forever was possible if you did alot of lurking
and stayed away from charging the Slayer with the
idiotic notion that you stood a chance in hell.

"Buffy!" I called desperately. "Buffy! Please come
out and talk to me. Something terrible is happening.
Buff..." A hand clapped down on my shoulder. I spun
around, prepared to fall into Buffy's strong arms.
Instead I found myself nose to fist with the mad
Slayer herself.

"Faith," I garbled from where I flailed helplessly on
the pavement. With a dull thud, her booted foot came
beside my head, hard. Blood trickled from my nose,
clinging slickly to my skin.

"Victim," she acknowledged harshly. "Oh dear, did I
break your nose, Victim? Your fault. You let it
happen."

"Let me up," I gasped, trying to wiggle away from her.
Faith's foot came down on my chest, pressing
painfully against my sternum.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she husked. "Not
unless you'd like to be broken."

"Buffy!" I screamed and Faith's face twisted into a
sneer.

"Oh come off it, looser. Like B's gonna hear you!
Like she's even gonna care." Hatred pooled in my
soul, cloying and black as old dried blood. I hated
Faith. I hated what she was implying.

"I wish you had died." My voice was surprisingly
calm. Frank even. Part of me cringed as part of me
became as cruel as the ex-Slayer above me and a larger
part of me didn't even care. Faith's mouth dropped
open. Then snapped shut. Finally she shrugged.

"Alot of people hate me, Will-ow. After awhile I
thought, fuck, why not give them a reason?" I turned
my head away, feeling frozen. Faith's voice turned
quiet. "But Buffy liked me." Then more loudly,
insisting, "Buffy liked me." Her sludgy brown eyes
sank into mine. "Until you went and spoiled that for
me too."

"Wha?" I gasped. "You are so off this planet it
isn't even the Solar System. Faith, Buffy stopped
'liking' you, when YOU went and betrayed us all. No,
not even then. She couldn't or maybe wouldn't see you
for your skanky self. She stopped 'liking' you when
you kept on betraying us. Kept hurting her."

"Me hurt B?!" screamed Faith, grinding her foot down
in apparent rage. "She hurt me! She killed me for
fuckingoodness. She. Murdered. Me."

"Then why aren't you dead?" Buffy stepped out of the
bushes. Faith said the S word. "Well, Psychopath?
Why aren't you dead?" Buffy grated, walking slowly
toward us. Faith's dark eyes grew darker.

"Thanks to you, B," she crowed. "'Cause even the
great Buffy makes mistakes."

TBC Chapter 12




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