Somewhere I Have Never Travelled; Book Two
by Kirayoshi
Hell's Belles
[reviews]
Chapter 2
Hell's Belles
"All that we see or seem,
Is but a dream within a dream"
--Edgar Allan Poe
The roaring of three Harley-Davison engines hacked into the night outside of Sunnydale. The three women riding into town were here for a little fun. They pulled over and cut off their engines, just outside of the city limits.
"Sunnydale, California," the lead biker announced, removing her helmet to unleash a thick mane of red hair. "Squaresville USA."
"Hey, I dunno about that, Rizzo," the blonde next to her argued as she took off her helmet and popped her chewing gum. "Wasn't this were the Hellmouth was supposed to be?"
"Yeah, Frenchie," Rizzo answered. " 'Supposed to be' is right. The Hellmouth got closed last year by the Slayer. Word is she died to close it."
"You know what that means, Riz," the brunette biker offered, pulling out a cigarette. "We're gonna get the chance to raise a little hell!"
"You're right, Leather," Rizzo said, spitting to the side. "C'mon, girls," she announced, as her face contorted to that of her true nature, a vampire. "Hell's Belles ride tonight!"
The three vampires rode into town, whooping loudly. Tonight, the hunt would begin.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
It was Eighties Open Mike Night at the Bronze, when Buffy and Willow entered their favorite hang-out, ready to party. They had hoped to run into their friends that night, as they had news to share.
They were pleased to find Cordelia at the Bronze, but surprised to see her on stage, backed by Evil Petting Zoo, the band that had once been known as Dingoes Ate My Baby. After Oz died in his traitorous attack on Buffy over a year ago, Devon and the other surviving members regrouped and launched a new sound. With a new guitar player, they began to enjoy a greater popularity than ever.
Tonight, they were supplying a live karaoke, as amateur singers tried for a one-hundred dollar prize. The only rule was the singer had to perform a song from the Eighties. Cordy had chosen a lively dance piece from disco-era survivors Blondie, and sang with obvious joy;
"When I met you in the restaurant,
You could tell I was no debutante.
You asked me what's my pleasure; "A movie or a measure"?
I'll have a cup of tea and tell you of my dreaming.
Dreaming is free.
"I don't want to live on charity
Pleasure's real or is it fantasy?
Real to real is living rarity
People stop and stare at me, we just walk on by
We just keep on dreaming."
The two girls bounced over to the dance floor, where Xander saw them. "Hey, Willow, Buffy!" he greeted his long-time friends, bear-hugging both in turn. "Good to see you here, Buffy, the place hasn't been the same without you."
"I'm glad to be back too, Xander," Buffy shouted to be heard above the band. The three friends turned their attention back to Cordy's performance.
"Feet, feet! Walking on a two mile.
Meet, meet! Meet me at the turnstile,
I never met him, I'll never forget him.
Dream, dream! Even for a little while
Dream, dream! Filling up an idle hour
Fade away, radiate."
"I sit by and watch the river flow.
I sit by and watch the traffic go.
Imagine something of your very own;
Something you can have and hold, I'd build a road in gold
Just to have some dreaming,
Dreaming is free.
Dreaming.
Dreaming is free."
The band slowed to a finish, Cordy took a bow, her face awash with happiness. Xander greeted her as she stepped down from the stage, kissing her lightly on the lips.
The four friends sat at their regular seats, and ordered fruit juices and mochas from their server. "Man," Willow breathed, as she cuddled next to Buffy on an overstuffed lounge, "It's good to be back here again. I've missed the Bronze."
Buffy looked surprised at Willow. "You mean you never came here while I was gone?"
"Too many memories, Buff," Willow admitted. "I guess I didn't want to be here without you." And she kissed Buffy on the cheek.
"Hey," Cordy announced, "back when I was vying for super-stardom, I never thought I'd say this, but now that I'm back here, I'd rather party here than at Spago's any day!"
"That's right," Xander announced, his voice taking on a camp Cockney accent. "It's my happening, baby, and it freaks me out!" At this statement, Cordy's face turned chalk white.
"Help me," she pleaded with Buffy and Willow. "I just agreed to marry a man who quotes 'Austin Powers'!"
"Sorry, Cordy," Buffy shook her head as she reached for her mocha. "You're on your own. It's your own fault if your gonna--" Her voice trailed off as she made the connection. "--MARRY XANDER?"
Willow gaped at the two young lovers like a stunned fish. Xander glared at Cordy in mock seriousness, saying, "Way to wreck our reveal." Turning to Buffy and Willow, Xander announced, "Hey guys, did I tell you? We're getting married."
Willow laughed out loud, smiling broadly. "Wow!" was all that she could say, as she stood up and hugged her life-long friend. Buffy joined her briefly in hugging Xander, then went over to embrace Cordy. "Congratulations, guys," Buffy announced. "We're happy for you."
"Yeah," Willow added, as she regrouped with Buffy. She draped her left arm over Buffy's shoulder, displaying her left hand. "I guess there's a lot of that going around these days." And she wiggled her fingers, to make sure that Cordy and Xander noticed the diamond on her hand.
Xander's jaw dropped, and Cordy gasped audibly. "You two--" Cordy started, but couldn't finished. She rushed over to Willow, and lifted her up in a joyous embrace. "Way to go, Wills," she announced.
Xander collected himself long enough to shake Buffy's hand vigorously. "So you finally landed her," Xander grinned. "Just promise you'll take good care of her."
"That's a given," Buffy vowed. "Hey, Cordy, do you mind if I borrow your fiancee for a second? I wanted to see if these rumors of him joining the Force were true."
"Amazingly, they are," Cordy confirmed. "You two go and talk, I gotta chat with Willow." She tipped her hand in a casual wave while Buffy and Xander walked away.
"So," Willow said. "Apart from the obvious, how're things with you?"
"Great, Wills," Cordy answered. "I'm enrolling at U.C. Sunnydale next semester, I may qualify for a student grant, my job's going well, and I'm marrying the guy I used to treat like dirt in high school. Life's funny that way," she added as she sipped her kiwi-strawberry drink.
"Yeah," Willow agreed, "it's a turvy-topsy world." Cordy regarded Willow with a thoughtful expression. Years ago, she would have dismissed the shy young computer hacker as a geek. Her fashion sense derived from the 'softer side of Sears' as she called it. Now, looking at her, she could scarcely recognize that shrinking violet she once knew, that her posse would degrade at every turn. Willow had grown into an exceptional woman. "Something wrong, Cordy?"
"Not really," Cordy said wistfully. "I was just thinking of old times. I'm starting to realize how much I missed in high school. I wish I had a friend like you back then."
Willow smiled warmly at Cordy. "You did, Chase. You just didn't recognize it then." She patted Cordy's hand, and the former cheerleader nodded understandingly.
She then sobered up, as other thoughts intruded. "Willow," she asked, "something's up. Something Hellmouthy. Can you meet us at Giles' place tomorrow?"
"Should I bring Buffy?"
"Not if she doesn't have her memory," Cordy confessed. "This could get creepy. There's a new vamp in town. Xander and I ran into him the other night. I'm guessing he's not a newbie. Calls himself Mr. Beltaine. And get this, he says he has a soul."
"Whoa," Willow breathed. "Yeah, this has the potential for freaksomeness."
"So, you want to talk to G-Man, do the research thing tomorrow?"
"I guess we'd better talk to him then," Willow nodded. "Buffy's enrolling in refresher courses at the campus tomorrow, to get caught up for fall semester. I can meet you while she's doing that."
"Good," Cordy felt relieved. She had hoped not to be involved in Slayer's business when she moved back to Sunnydale, but if she was, it was good to have friends like Willow at her back.
Buffy and Xander returned just as Willow and Cordy were finishing their conversation, and the two couples continued to chat for a while. Cordy was briefly upset to learn that the hundred-dollar prize went to a trio performing Beastie Boys' "Fight For the Right to Party", but summed it up by saying, "I knew they'd pull in a ringer."
The four friends then hit the dance floor, as Lou Bega's "Mambo No. 5" poured out of the speakers. For a brief while, all troubles were forgotten.
But Cordy and Xander knew that this was just the eye of the storm.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Jesse Montrose and Rachel Pryde had only stopped behind the gazebo at Whetherly Park for a quick necking session, when the roar of a two-stroke engine could be heard in the distance. As the roar got louder, Jesse craned his neck, lifting his head to see what was going on. The sight of three huge black motorcycles, their headlights blazing like beacons of hellfire, barreling straight at them, made his stomach lurch. He quickly pushed Rachel out of the way, then dove in the opposite direction, just before the screeching tires ground up the sod where they had just lain seconds ago.
The bikers called Hell's Belles braked their steeds, shutting off the ignition. "Okay, girls," Rizzo announced, discarding her helmet, "Who's hungry?" Her fellow bikers joined her, as they began to stalk toward the young woman.
Jesse grabbed Rizzo's shoulder, shouting, "Get away from her, bitch!"
The biker turned and faced Jesse. Her jutting brow hooded over glowing yellow eyes, and her fangs glistened in the dim streetlights. "No one," she growled as Jesse let go of her, "touches the leather and lives!" She lunged at Jesse, preparing to rend his throat and drink his blood.
A wooden shaft grazed her face, cutting close enough to cause pain. "Back off, Warrior Princess," a calm voice rang out behind the biker chick. The vampire twisted around her, momentarily forgetting Jesse, to concentrate on this new interloper. A young woman, Asian-American from the looks of her. She stood before her, legs apart, ready to move, ready to fight.
"Well, well, well," Rizzo barked out her laughter. "What's this, everybody's kung fu fighting?"
"You know," Sandra Ogawa answered, talking almost conversationally, as she noted that Jesse and Rachel had taken the opportunity to make their escape, "I'm really getting sick of that stereotype. I'm Asian, I'm in good shape, so people automatically assume that I'm into martial arts. Of course, as it happens," she leapt at Rizzo, executing a perfect flying kick, connecting hard with Rizzo's jaw, "I am. But that has nothing to do with my ethnic background, and everything to do with my being the Slayer."
"Slayer!" the other vampires shrieked, as they gathered around their fallen leader. Rizzo snapped her fingers, shouting, "Frenchie, Leather, take her out!"
"Sorry," a quiet voice behind Rizzo spoke, and Rizzo turned to see a young blond woman holding a crossbow aimed at her heart. Tara smiled as she fingered the trigger, saying, "I'm taking her out these days, and I tend to get possessive. No hard feelings."
Before Tara could pull the trigger on her crossbow, a clawed hand swiped down, knocking the weapon out of her grip. A lean muscular arm grabbed her around the throat, and held her in a hammerlock. The new vampire, an older-looking blond, shouted to Sandra as she raised her stake toward her, "Drop the stake, or I drop your girlfriend!"
Sandra stood motionless for five seconds, measuring her chances of freeing Tara and taking out her captor. The chances didn't look good. She allowed the stake to drop from her fingers, saying, "Okay, sister. I've done what you want."
"What makes you think I wanted to bargain with you, Slayer?" the vampire cackled evilly. She then added, "But your witch friend is of no concern to me. Catch!" She tossed Tara roughly at Sandra, who caught her wiccan girlfriend in her arms.
The vampire helped Rizzo to her feet. "I am Darla," she introduced herself, "and I have need of good allies like you."
Rizzo laughed lustily at Darla, saying, "I like your style, lady. You ride with me!" She snapped her fingers, and they all got on their motorbikes. Darla sat behind Rizzo, her arms wrapped around Rizzo's waist. The biker vamps gunned their motors, and rode off into the night.
Sandra stood behind, and held Tara in her arms. "Did she hurt you, Tara?" she asked, worry etching her face.
"I-I'm fine," Tara replied. "Just sh-shaken up a bit. And we saved those two."
"Yeah," Sandra replied. "just wish we could have stopped those rejects from 'Grease'."
Tara noticed the look of determination on Sandra's face. She recalled Buffy getting a similar look in the past. She recalled how Buffy often took it as a personal failure whenever a vampire escaped. She turned Sandra's chin toward her with a gentle finger, saying, "Hey, Sandra, don't let it get you down. Not even a Slayer can outrun a Harley. We'll go to see Giles and Miss Parkinson tomorrow, and get their take on this situation."
"You're right," Sandra answered Tara, some of her concern fading. "You're good for me, you know?"
"Yeah," Tara grinned impishly at Sandra. "That's why you love me, right?"
"Among other reasons," Sandra replied as she tilted her head in to kiss the lips she had longed for all day. Two months ago, Sandra Ogawa hadn't even heard of Tara, and now she couldn't imagine life without her.
But this new vampire had her worried. She could sense her power. This Darla was more powerful than any vampire she ever faced before.
Suddenly, her life felt a great deal more complicated.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Giles sipped his Earl Grey as he glossed over the Book of the Goddess. No matter how many times he read over this ancient text, he was never less amazed that this book had been part of the backbone of the Watcher's Council since its inception many centuries ago, yet had been left to rot in a dusty repository since the Crusades.
The section he had been re-reading was a chapter on the Slayer's Handfasting. The ceremony, officiated by the Watcher who oversaw the Slayer, joined the Slayer with her chosen love, a mage or witch, as spouses. He imagined that once Buffy regained her memory, and was told of this ritual, she would want him to officiate a handfasting between herself and Willow. He found that he looked forward to the honor.
The incessant ringing of Giles' phone broke his concentration. He glanced at his clock, and grumbling under his breath that it was too late in the evening for anyone to call, answered the phone. "Rupert Giles residence," he answered.
"Giles," a familiar formal voice greeted him. Giles raised his eyebrows as he recognized the voice. "Wesley?"
"I hope I didn't get you at a bad time," Wesley Wyndam-Price announced, "but I have some distressing news to report. I was wondering if Angel was there."
"No," Giles answered. "He's back at his old mansion. Is it something you can only tell him, or can I take a message?"
"No, Giles," Wesley said, "it's nothing I can't tell you. In fact I think you should hear this."
"I'm listening," said the Watcher.
"It's Faith," Wesley said, as his voice grew more morose. "The prison warden called me. She was attacked by a fellow inmate in prison a few days ago. She's dead."
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
"Master," the peroxide-haired vampire announced, bowing low. "I have bad news."
Mr. Beltaine sat quietly as Spike made his announcement. "What is it, Spike?"
"Three new vamps breezed into town," Spike reported. "Call themselves Hell's Belles. I ran into them a few decades ago. They're tough. And they hooked up with Darla."
"I see," Beltaine answered. "This does disturb me. Darla's getting stronger, and gaining allies. We'll have to contact the Slayer and her comrades soon."
"I'm not sure they'll want to see me," Spike said ruefully.
"They'll understand when the time is right," Beltaine answered philosophically. "I suspect that many strange alliances will be made before the final war begins."
"Yeah," said a young woman who sat across from Mr. Beltaine. "Like me and you, Spikester."
"Believe me, ducks," Spike grinned, "I can think of other people I'd rather be with. Hell, even Brooding Boy would be an improvement."
"Enough, children," Beltaine cut them off in a quietly bemused voice. "We have preparations to make. And you, my child," he turned toward the young woman vampire who now stuck out her tongue at Spike, "will be instrumental."
"Oh goody," she grinned.
"Yes," Beltaine smiled. "I thought that you'd be--what was that peculiar phrase you employ so frequently? Ah, yes, five-by-five with it."
The vampire who was once a woman named Faith smiled at her new master. Yes, she decided, this new life had potential.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Atlantic Ocean, 1665
She awoke to the sensation of swaying, and the stink of dead fish. She opened her eyes, and her worst fears were confirmed. She was in the cargo hold of a galleon, and the pitch of the boat threatened to empty her stomach. She glanced around and saw him. Her guardian. Her Watcher. And now, her enemy.
"Where are we?" she shouted to the severe figure sitting before her. "Where's Charity?"
"We are on our way back to England," the Watcher answered, his voice laced with condemnation. "That is all that need concern you at this time."
"What happened to Charity, Goodman Carter?"
"Charity Weber is no longer any concern of yours, Patience Jones," Watcher Carter intoned. "Your unholy lusts will be purged once we return to the Watcher's Council."
"Unholy--" Patience stammered as the realization hit her. "You had her hung for witchcraft."
"She condemned herself," the Watcher stated, no emotion in his voice. "With her godless ways, her consorting with the Devil, her seduction of you. She turned you away from your calling. I am only thinking of you."
Patience could say no more as her grief consumed her. She and Charity had shared something special, something truly holy, something that this fool of a watcher could never understand. And now it was ripped from her, like a rent garment. And now she faced the punishment of her masters, the Watcher's Council, and there was naught that she could do against her fate. Indentured as she was to Watcher Parker, she had no choice but to mourn her beloved Charity.
And she would mourn. For the rest of her short life.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Buffy awoke with a tightness in her chest. She could sense that she was sobbing, and as her eyes opened, she saw Willow leaning over her, concern clouding her green eyes. "Hey, honey," Willow soothed. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"That obvious, was it?"
"You were crying in your sleep, Buff," Willow said as she stroked her lover's cheek. "Something about Charity. You had lost Charity." Buffy didn't miss the bemused expression on Willow's face as she spoke.
"Charity?" Buffy asked to herself, "I think Charity was you."
"Good answer," Willow teased. Buffy stuck her tongue out at Willow.
"I was on a ship," Buffy answered. "Headed for England. It was late seventeenth century, Puritan New England."
"Salem witch trials?" Willow ventured a guess.
"Yeah, like that," Buffy nodded. "And I was being taken away from you. I was named Patience, and you were Charity. And I knew that you had been hung for witchcraft." Buffy could scarcely continue, as her tears started to flow again. The thought of losing Willow, now that they were to be married, was almost too much for Buffy's heart to bear.
"Oh, Buffy," Willow took Buffy's head in her lap, and comforted her beloved silently. As Buffy's tension melted away under the warmth of Willow's love, Willow felt a knot of tension tightening in her gut. She too had a dream that night.
In the dream, she was Charity Weber, a woman who dared to love another woman, Patience Jones. And for that love, she was named witch, and hung.
As Buffy went back to sleep in her arms, Willow felt a shiver down her spine. First she dreamed of being a tribal shamaness, then a priestess of Isis in ancient Egypt, now a Puritan witch. And Buffy evidently was having corresponding dreams.
She had to ask Giles about the dreams. She had to know what they meant.
For now, all she could do was hold her beloved Buffy in her arms and try to sleep. She kissed Buffy on her forehead and whispered, "I love you, Buffy," and allowed her body to relax long enough to fall asleep.