Wednesday, July 21, 2004

"Sunnydalopolis..." Part III

Sunnydalopolis part III...

Spike hangs by the door until the last possible moment. Buffy II's mutterings as she pokes through his "hope" chest drift up from below. "No, he wouldn't think of that, of course deodorant, no toothpaste,...Hey, I have this one at home, too...that little pervert must have gone through every one of my...Spike! This is not my size! Who does he think I am, Xena?"

As she starts climbing up he flies out and tries to assume a nonchalant expression standing in the yard of the crypt. He does not entirely succeed...

Dreg is reluctantly plodding home in his new suit, the best evening of his life abruptly over. He pauses to view himself in the new Glory-chosen togs in a window.  "Dreg! " A familiar voice calls. It's Ben and Dreg feels himselfwhirled around.  As he looks at Ben in an outfit several sizes too small, hecan't repress a feeling of profound satisfaction...  "Ah, sir...I see my mistress has as always thoughtfully provided you withsuitable raiment before her departure."

"Very funny.  What were you two up to at the Mall?  How many people did Glory stricken this time?" Dreg is dignified as befitting his new status as Glory's favored...and his newsuit.

"Sir, you must be aware that I cannot provide you with informationunless my mistress herself has first consented to allow it. Her activities arebeyond the strictures and reckonings of this petty existence and noexplanations are required."

"Nice suit."

"Her most glorious divinity did deem my unworthy self to be its recipient."

"She chose it for you? Well, are the Minion tonight, huh?"

"Her gloriousness doth on occasion find my meager services of some use."

"Say Dreg, why don't we call a truce for one night and grab some dinner? I have some clothes back at the hospital.  We can talk things over...maybe I canbe of some help in sorting the situation out."

Dreg sucks thoughtfully on his Orange Julius, regarding Ben warily. "I thinknot sir.  Events have shown you to be quite opposed to her divinity's wishesand plans.  No, I think an exchange of information is not in her gloriousness' interest."

"You know I should write you a prescription for that skin condition of yours. You'd be a pretty decent-looking fellow in that suit if we could take care of those scabs." Ben pulls out his pad and starts to write, Dreg peering over his shoulder...

"This should do the trick, you can get it filled at that drugstore over there...Glory left you some of whatever she came by tonight?"

"Her gracious solicitude for her unworthy minions continues as always." Dreg begins to wonder if dinner with Ben is such a bad idea. He doubtless would have information on his friend, the Slayer and her family...and a skillful master of intrigue, trained in the sacred halls of the divine order should have no trouble concealing anything useful in exchange.  And it has been such a grand night, a fine dinner with a companion sure to be interested in any trivial details of Glory's existence would be a preferable ending to gruel made from wallpaper paste and toilet water, eaten alone in his dark basement...

"Come on Dreg, I promise not to press for anything that would get Glory upset at you. How bout it?"

"Well, sir...perhaps a small meal before retiring, eaten with you as token of respect for my mistress' counterpart."


[Play...A 4 day old robot is driving my car theme]

Much to Spike's discomfort, Buffy II insists on driving his car to the patrol site. While he is naturally worried about a four day old robot with no driving experience or license driving his car, his principal concern is that it leaves him with nothing to do during the drive. His eyes are continually drawn to Buffy II's slender arms turning with the wheel, the slant of her head as shewatches the oncoming traffic.  She glares swiftly at him and he finds some fascinating reading in the glove compartment on car maintenance.  Where to put the hands drumming along nervously, where to look without staring, what clever remark to make, perhaps an interesting bit of news from the four days she's been in the tank?  That's it.  Some family news...

"Your mum's funeral went off just boss yesterday, I hear, Buffy."


Something is clearly weighing on Ben's mind, Dreg realizes as he gobbles his third plate of a wonderous food known as spaghetti.  The waitress, alerted by the manager to the pitiable condition of the young doctor's terminal patient, casts a sympathetic look on Dreg.  He notices that the major part of her attention is focused on the handsome young doctor.  Ah, even these worthlesshumans can sense the Presence... Ben nods smilingly to the waitress and turns back to Dreg...

"Dreg, I was regard to Glory's sudden interest in you?..."

Dreg is caught by surprise. He had expected more probes about the Key or the role of the Slayer, perhaps even a direct question as to Glory's full plans...


"You know, in the past...Glory has, well occasionally...gotten close to a follower... It never lasts you know...but..."

"Any brief showering of her divine favor upon me is cause for my eternal joy...I..."

"Yes, well, Dreg. You see it's been a while since Glory...well...The last one was the emperor Commodus. And since then she really hasn't gotten that close to anyone...I would imagine she's been getting a little...lonely?"

"Sir, I would rejoice if my humble presence can even briefly ease any lonely moment in her divine hearts..."

"Look...have you and Glory been...intimate?"



Spike looks apprehensively around at the dark cemetery grounds.  Buffy II is striding along, carefully listening for sounds, in trim Slayer form, stake byher side...

"Look this is not a good night to be out...Every vamp in town is sure to be gunning for the Slayer tonight, thinking she'll be off her stride. I can see them all now, down there pulling down the booze, until one blowhard sounds off and they all go out, an instant Slayer lynch mob."

"Exactly why we're here. And we're going to stay here."

"For what...Buffy and Dawn are safe at Giles'. Your idiot gang of friends? They'd help to tear you apart if they knew who you were. Besides, they'll make a quick turn of the town and head home to hold hands with the Summers girls."

"My friends are out there. And I know Buffy will be here. She'll be here to check on Mom."

"Your mother...Her mother is safe as can be in this world...No vamp can hurt her now."

"I'm not leaving until I know for sure. Go if you want to...I don't need anyhelp."


"No vampire, no demon, no idiot drunkard tping the graveyard is touching myMom's gravesite, do you understand!" She rages on, shaking the stake at his startled face.

"You're absolutely right, every slimy little cowardly vampire in Sunnydale will be looking to do whatever he or she can to me tonight, even if it's only to spit on my Mom's stone."

She calms down and looks determinedly at her hands. There is no stopping this Slayer, even in robot form, Spike realizes...

"That's why Buffy will be here and that's why we're here."

"But...if Buffy sees you?" Spike tries a new tack. "This isn't really the night for you two to meet you know."

"She won't see me. But I'll be there." Buffy II marches off, toward the tree grove overlooking her mother's fresh grave...

"WARREN!" Spike screams to the stars, beating his head with his fists...

 [Play theme...Spike in the Graveyard]

"Dear God, do I owe you a drink, you goddamn...Michelangelo." He chases

after the vanishing figure of Buffy II...