Thirteen Steps -1- The Outsider
by Valyssia
Fight or Flight
[reviews]
Description: Season 8 - Takes place the evening before Amy attacks the Alpha Team's fortress. I play the misanthropic parts of Buffy's personality to an extreme. The assumption is that she's become even more isolated since she came to Scotland. You can see some evidence of this in the first comic. I took it to the edge for the sake of making her more vulnerable. I've been told she reads a bit like Faith here. Honestly...Faith reads like she does because the character voices are not all that vastly different and Faith is the ultimate Outsider. The girl defines the word misanthrope.
Author's Note: This chapter contains material from the very first piece of fiction I ever wrote. It was simply a character study that took place while Buffy was taking a ride. *giggle* I took two things I knew well, riding and the Buffy character and tossed them together. Yup...pretty sad... Anyway...if some of this seems a bit immature... Go figure. I improve...I promise. At least I hope I do.
Another Author's Note: Oh...Kay... Why the pluralness? I know you're askin' it... Simple...I expect that some of you might be turned off by the idea of Buffy riding. Yeah...not so much? Is there something vaguely masculine about it? Maybe a bit too far out of the girlie camp? Not for me... I'm a small blond woman. 5'.5" 130LBS. I've been an avid sport rider for better than half my life. Go check out the women riders section of sportbikes.net if you need to see examples. It's practically getting to where a hot sportbike is the new Gucci purse. Sorta scary. Riding is a lot like dancing. Where you place your body on the machine governs where you go. It's a very physical sport. It occurred to me if the Buffy character could work her way past the machine phobia she'd probably love it.
Disclaimer: Buffy, Willow and all things Slayer belong to Joss Whedon and the good folks at Mutant Enemy.
Feedback: Any and all reviews will be welcomed. Feel absolutely free to tell me just how much you think I...ummm...errr...inhale sharply.
It was after nine when Buffy Summers finally managed to shake herself free of the bustle of her new life. She stole away to the solitude of her own room. The space was well lived in and she found she might actually allow herself to be comfortable here on rare occasions. She pulled up the chair to her desk and switched on the iPod dock that sat there. Scrolling through the long list of playlists and song titles she found a mix that suited her mood. Dark, lonely and depressed... She thought to herself, how in the hell did I end up here? She knew the answer already but that made it no less comforting to ask the question.
A knock pulled her back from her cluttered thoughts and she moved to the door to answer, "Who is it?" Pausing to listen for a response Buffy mumbled softly to herself, "God! Can't they just leave me alone?" she writhed a little with anger.
"It's Xander, Buff...Can we talk?" said the man's voice on the other side of the door.
Not in the mood for company but unable to refuse the rare appearance of one of her oldest friends, Buffy simply swung the door open in reply.
Xander cautiously poked his head in the door looking a bit concerned. "What's up, Buff?" he asked.
Buffy looked at him like he might be a bit stupid and said, "You were the one that wanted to talk. I assumed you had something to say when I opened the door."
At this, Xander took on the look of a wounded puppy. "Look, I'm just worried about you...we are like, friends and all...maybe you should put the safety on and watch where you point that thing," he said, making a vague motion indicating her mouth. At this, Xander walked around the bed to take possession of the desk chair. He turned the music down and motioned for Buffy to sit on the bed.
Buffy went where he motioned and sat cross-legged on her bed. "Sorry, Xander," she offered. "It's just that you've not exactly been around. Every time I manage to find you...you seem to be playing Double-O-Xander or busy with some other project. It's hard...I feel like I don't even know you anymore."
"Yeah well, Buff, it's not like you've been Little Miss Accessible lately either. In fact, truth-be-told, you've not been that the entire time I've known you," he paused thinking, "Oh, you've stepped in it now, Xander!" to himself. "Sorry...I shouldn't have said that. Let's just say you've taken an obvious downward turn with the social here lately, and I wondered if there was some way I could help?" Xander tried to recover, but he knew he had failed miserably by the look of anger on the Slayer's face.
"Like, you've always been some paragon of come-forth-y-ness, Xander? I plan to model the remainder of my adult life on the example you've set. Shit, you're barely around yourself! I have to track you down anytime I need to see you, and half the time when I speak you barely listen or outright don't hear me," Buffy spat with a fury building.
"Back up, Buff..." Xander put his hands up for effect, "Let's not go all Erzsebet Bathory here. Look around you a little. This hasn't been an easy change for me either. Think about why we are where we are. We needed a facility..." looking up Xander realized that Buffy was staring at him with a sort of cold malice in her eyes. He'd never seen that look reserved for him and he was honestly shaken.
He tried to recover by saying, "I was joking about the Erzsebet Bathory thing, you know..."
"That's right, Xander. Let's just make with the excuses." Buffy was shaking obviously straining to contain herself as she continued, "I'm fine... Really I am."
Xander looked angry despite himself. "Buffy, it's me! You do know that I'm doing this for you, right? I mean I would be off somewhere else living a much different life had we not met. I wish you could just tell me what's wrong, but you've always gone into full withdrawal mode whenever you were asked to lead..." he trailed off as a strange sensation interrupted his thoughts. He was rising off the chair! Panicked he tried to struggle but it was no good.
Buffy picked Xander up by the front of his shirt. She tossed the helpless man over her shoulder, walked calmly over to the door and opening it left-handed, she dropped him outside.
Buffy stared at him coldly and said in a flat voice, "Enough with the drama. You're here because you brought yourself here," with this she slammed the door hard in his face. She walked back over to the desk collecting her jacket and iPod. She then calmly put the jacket over her body, the iPod slipped neatly into the left inside pocket she placed the earbuds in her ears and set the volume high enough to drown out the knocks. She patted her jeans to check for the key to Bernadine and grabbed her helmet off the weapons trunk. She opened the door pushing him aside and walked down the hall toward the entrance.
She vaguely made out an, "I'm sorry," from the disgruntled Xander as she stomped off.
She found herself thinking as she went, Xander did mean well and he had worked his butt off to make this place fit for human habitation. He could have been there for me a little though. He deserved everything he got for shutting down and blocking me out. They hadn't really been friends for months. Things had changed so drastically since the days of Sunnydale, The Bronze and the Magic Box had given them a place to relax and bond. Here there were so many other voices adding to the din it was hard to make out your own.
They had done their damnedest to shove her into the role of a leader. Hell, Giles even left right after I clawed my way out of my own coffin because he wanted me to find a way to lead. They piled it all on and then turned their useless backs as soon as we suffered one defeat when the First was rattling our cage; I can't get these stupid girls to listen to me for shit even now, and the funniest bit of the whole fucked up mess is that they sit and wonder when I withdraw. I didn't ask to lead this debacle, but I'll be damned if I'm going to stick around waxing all sentimental about this bullshit when something as simple as 'watch your partner's six' rolls off these girls like they're Scotch Guarded against the learning, she raged silently.
Her mind fell still as she made her way to the large front doors of the fortress. She shoved them open and sighed, "Yeah... I need to jet!" She breathed the night air in deeply. Finally outside and alone again, she began to feel better. It was a cool, dark night, and the moon hung low in the sky. She noted that it was nearly full. No wonder I feel like I need to thrash someone, she snickered to herself as she walked.
Her mind began to wander again as she made her way out into the yard. Buffy had always been an avid pedestrian in Sunnydale, but the reality of her new place in the world was one of remoteness. They had chosen their new location for just that reason and it was out in the middle of the crossroads of No and Where. This had meant that if Buffy wanted to actually leave, she was pretty much forced to con someone, anyone with a license and a car, to get her the hell out. It can be tough to be out and alone with yourself when you have company forced on you as part of the leaving. She felt herself starting to grin sardonically.
It had only been a few months, or so it seemed, since she had met the young slayer that had really introduced her to what it meant to be free again despite all the pent up frustration. The girl had given her something new; a gift. Something she could do to release the shackles on the burdens of her life.
The slayer in question had insisted that her motorcycle be shipped to her. She had always ridden, and she would not hear of leaving it behind. Buffy was there when the truck came. She recalled looking at the thing. It was a machine. Buffy and machines had always found themselves at odds. Buffy was a creature of the earth; she needed to feel grounded. The earth under her feet was an important thing for the slayer. But the new girl had insisted that Buffy accompany her for one of these "rides" she commonly took. The experience had been amazing; it had opened Buffy's eyes.
Her pulse quickened as she neared the stable where her motorcycle sat. She threw open the door and inspected the vehicle for a mere second before tossing a leg over it, sliding the key into the ignition and firing it up. The Ducati 999s purred to life. The sound of the v-twin Testastretta engine was throaty and almost warm. Like the growl of an old lover...
Buffy purred back, "Good evening, Bernadine."
She caressed the machine's gas tank, and then twisting her hair into a tight bun, she slid the helmet over her head, quickly buckling the thing. Helmet hair! Yuck! Oh well... Life always seems to come with these little trade-offs. Then she pulled in the clutch, flipped up the sidestand and pressed the small lever with her left toe. The motorcycle responded with a soft 'thunk' letting her know it heard her command. Slowly, lovingly, Buffy spun the engine up with her right hand, releasing the clutch smoothly with her left. Within moments, the castle was out of view in her mirrors; like a distant memory, and she felt a thousand times better about life.
The private driveway to her new home was a narrow, smooth piece of asphalt that snaked over the valley below the castle and through the small forest on the other side like a long black ribbon. It was funny for her to think that when she first arrived, this road had seemed overly tedious and annoying; now it was Buffy's favorite racetrack.
At this late hour, the cold pressed in on her a bit and she shuddered slightly as she broke through a bank of fog on the valley floor. The wind was biting and exhilarating at the same time. The steady growl of the machine invited her to open up the floodgates and just let the sensations roll over her in waves. She chanced a peek at the gauges...225kph Gawd! I'm such a tourist, she thought, How many miles an hour is that I wonder? The world blurred around her as she moved through the valley like a bolt released from a crossbow.
And there it was... Approaching her quickly... Buffy saw the first turn in the road and began to shift the bike down anticipating the rush that would come. Then with great grace and ease, she flicked the bike over and felt the road meet the edge of her foot. Changing her posture seamlessly, she listened to what the machine was asking her to do. The knee of her jeans was a mere centimeter from the road as she exited the corner moving briskly toward the next. She eased the bike back out of the hard counter-steer and flicked deftly into the next corner carefully choosing a line that would allow her to leave with maximum speed.
This dance continued... The bike grunted as she shifted down approaching the next turn in the road. Its timbre was like a song and Buffy's mind was lulled to an earlier period in her life. There was something almost innocent about the conversation she had shared with Riley Finn that afternoon on the lawn. Driving for pleasure... She had never really understood that about him. Cars make you feel so removed from the world. It's like viewing a movie. The scenes of the world rush by and you are trapped in this little metal box. There is no connection. You are caged.
Bikes and Buffy...much more the mixey... No clue...glad I got it figured.
"Just let it roll..." she smiled almost sadly to herself.
The Ducati grunted as she shifted down to meet the next bend in the road. So melancholy... she felt. As she straightened the bike back up to center, she applied a burst of throttle and hit the next gear. The front of the motorcycle responded by rising slightly off the pavement and a large grin spread over Buffy's lips. She was instantly happy.
Grounding herself again with her thoughts... Riley was married now. Who'da figured it? Well he seemed happy, and that counted for a lot. She sighed, "I wonder where he is?"
Upon reaching the end of her road, Buffy sat at the intersection. Which way? She set the bike in neutral and rested it against both thighs. The only thing she didn't care for about it was that the seat was a touch too high. She pressed the tips of her boots into the pavement a bit more firmly with the thought. There was nothing to do about it but work around the inconvenience with some well placed slayer strength.
Her mind raced a bit and an old face flashed across it. I wonder if Faith has done this? A smile touched her lips as she thought about the description "down low tickle" that Faith had applied to anything sexual. So does this qualify? Buffy giggled to her self as the engine rumbled, sending gentle quivers through the motorcycle into her body.
She caught herself mid-chuckle and returned to the present question.
Okay so... Well, there's a little cemetery in the next town south. I could probably get a few kumbiyahyahs off the unfortunate, less than living, residents there. "Left it is."
A little snick emitted from the machine and she was off. She spun the bike up to 100kph, lazily rowing through the gears, and laid her chest against the gas tank taking in all the little sounds and sensations the motorcycle offered. She fumbled in her pocket a bit and turned up the volume on the iPod slightly falling into the music and the rhythm of the road.
Despite all the turmoil, she had experienced the best birthday ever last year. This time not with the blood and the horror... Giles, Willow, Xander and she had all loaded up in Giles' car and gone to the Ducati dealership to find something special for Buffy as a present from the now defunct Watchers Counsel to her in honor of her service. She remembered looking at just about everything in the store. Touching, feeling the newly machined parts, the sculpted bodies... It had been wonderful. ...And in the midst of this thrall of shiny machines she had seen it. The perfect thing... It was like shopping for shoes only better! This thing was gorgeous! Talk about a fashion accessory! No purse or belt would ever draw the eye like this gleaming, black Ducati. The lines of this bike are simply amazing. Nearly sensual...not quite...I mean it is just a machine, right?
A soft grin had covered her features.
"Hello Bernadine," Buffy purred, as the silly movie Xander had forced her and Willow to watch with him came back in a flash of memory. Angelina Jolie muttering the line in a thick sexy voice, "...And Bernadine just took me for a ride."
Buffy mused over the fuss the salesman had made. Such a little woman on such a large motorcycle...? He seemed to think I'd be better off with a scooter. I didn't want a scooter! What did he know anyway? Giles assured him I would be quite fine as they prepped the bike for us to take it home; Willow and Xander teasing me the entire time about the whole biker chick thing. We loaded Bernadine into the rented trailer and went off in search of food. What a great day that was... it seems so long ago.
Had it really been that long since she had seen Willow? She missed her friend almost desperately. Buffy sighed deeply and the cold air sent another chill down her spine.
The new slayer, Rachelle, had taught her the basics in the castle driveway and from there, like with everything else physical; Buffy had just fallen into it. It came to her as naturally as breathing does to anyone else. The bike was an extension of her body; one that allowed her, if needed, to get 'there' one hell of a lot faster than traveling by foot. I mean, I can run at 35mph, maybe a bit more if I have to, but... GRRR... how many kph would that be? There's a formula...I know there is...math...I'd rather just be the clueless. She sighed, yup...an American tourist, am...I. Licensed, tested and insured but I'm still out of my element here.
I could probably do this for a living if it weren't for the slaying. I may see if I can find the time to pick up a couple of track days this year. Not sure...might be fun to test that theory. Croft Circuit looks like a nice track. I'll have to give it another look-see. Could be a fun distraction...I sure can't ride like I want to on the street...that would be so of the bad. My license would evaporate...poof gone! Not to mention the potential tragedy factor...
Oh! And would I ever love to ride the Isle of Man. That's open too. If you can get your ass and your bike there...you can compete. Getting there...not really a problem...at least I don't think it would be. I could practically throw stones at it from here. I assume there's a ferry. Then there's the slaying... My luck we'll have demons and vampires climbing the castle walls that week. So much the fun...GRRRR...
"I need something to fight!" she growled. Catching herself, she breathed deeply.
Wow Buff! Much with the wigged energy? She had been restraining herself from doing a Linda Blair all week. Okay... Not so much with the spitting up pea soup...or stabbing herself with crosses...ewww... or speaking Latin...Especially around the books. She shuddered at that thought. More with the being all kinda mean and surly...perhaps even ready to explode...yeah...explode...poor Xander...pausing for a second, she cursed Xander again.
Buffy had to work to extract the image of that icky cross scene from her mind. Damn him! You'd think with the line of work we're into he could skip the crap like that. I wish I'd told him one thousand times, NO, when he started yammering on about it being a classic. There were enough real things that she couldn't find a way to un-see without him loading her up with the disturbing fiction. Yeah...poor Xander...she had begun to actually feel bad for going off on him. Though there was a piece of her that felt he had both asked for it and deserved it.
Snatching herself out of her reflections, Buffy sat up on the seat and began to downshift as she reached the edge of the small town. The v-twin engine rumbled satisfyingly as she introduced each new gear. What was this place called? She looked around for the sign she had already passed. Eh, who gives a crap? Any graveyard in a storm... Again she smiled.
Within moments she was sliding past the old wrought iron gates that announced the entrance to an ancient cemetery. Once inside, she set the motorcycle on its stand, pulled off her helmet and shook out her golden mane. Well, I guess I'm leaving a calling card announcing my presence these days despite myself. Again she eyed the bike as she placed helmet on the seat. Yeah...vampires and demons beware! I keep doin' this and they're bound to notice a pattern...less the fun for me... Maybe I should have gone for something more common?
Breathing deeply, Buffy sighed again. Why did it feel like she was home? Yes, something to kill, slay, whatever... some wrong to set right... Her mind snapped to Spike and his less than ethical feelings about violence. The cruel grin that would spread over his face as he watched...
She who hangs out in cemeteries... How long ago was it that she had described herself that way? It seemed like a lifetime. She pulled the earbuds out of her ears and stashed them in her jacket.
Buffy bristled a little, and grinning coldly she set off across the cemetery lawn. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a bit of movement. She turned to investigate thinking, probably a squirrel...my luck...nope...
She strolled up to the new vampire who was struggling to unearth himself and smiled warmly, "Hi!" she said cheerily, "Buffy Summers, Vampire Slayer and this is your lucky night." She paused for a moment, then continued, "Oh...I'm sorry...manners..." She reached down to shake the hand he had extended out of the earth in his fight to come free. "And you are?" she gave his hand a firm tug and pulled the new vampire out of the ground saying, "Here, let me help you."
"Sean... errr... Sean Harris," the vampire said.
"Sean, I'm going to give you a few minutes to realize you are still alive and have motor functions and then I am going to come after you. I recommend you take this time to run." Buffy continued to smile cheerfully at the vampire.
"But I'm so hungry and you are being so nice..." He eyed Buffy's throat.
Buffy laughed a little and finished, "You guys are always thinking with your stomachs or your dicks...doesn't matter...living or dead...always seems to get you in trouble." With this, she shot into a roundhouse kick and sent the newly minted vamp sprawling into a tombstone. It broke under the force of her kick and his weight.
"You know...I wanted to give you a chance. The last thing I want is for this to end quickly, and odds are you're likely thinking the same thing right about now. So... How 'bout you make with the running?" Buffy motioned him along as she finished.
The vampire Sean didn't have to think twice, he turned and took off in a sprint.
Buffy took off after him giggling just a bit to herself. This was going to be fun. She vaulted a few headstones as she went, gaining on poor Sean. Boy, he was just not a very good vampire. Finally overtaking him, she dove for his legs causing him to sprawl on the ground.
"Now you'll remember I said I didn't want this to go quick, Sean. I'm giving you too many chances as it is now. Learn to fight boy! The advanced class is leaving the dorm room right about now."
Scrambling to his feet, Sean tried to strike the slayer with his fist.
Buffy grabbed the hand out of the air and spun him around by it. She pulled a stake out of her pocket and plunged it into his chest. He turned to ash and she sighed.
"Well that was weak...yeah...poor Sean..." she tisked brushing the ash from her sleeve.
She was, however, happier than she had been in days as she made her way back to Bernadine stashing the stake in her pocket and finding the earbuds as she walked. The ride back home seemed to pass more quickly than the ride there. She pondered why that was as she moved along.
It was around midnight when she found the comfort of her room again. She pulled out the iPod and plopped it into the dock, turned it on, slung her coat back on the chair and tossed the key on her desk. This funky day was nearly over. She knew tomorrow would be none the better, but at least today was history. Flopping onto her bed, she tried to relax.