The end of the rainbow
It's only taken me five years, but I am there at last! My Buffy/Rainbow story is finished! Hip, and might I add, hooray.
Catch up: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3
Spike has saved Buffy, but at what cost? Will the truth be revealed? At this point, will anyone care?
Hee, I will. :)
Chapter 4
For a moment Buffy stood without moving, mesmerised by the hypnotic thud of her own heartbeat, and then Slayer mode kicked in - not to mention the smell of burning - and she pulled away.
She looked across at Spike, the unmistakable outline of a charred cross still smouldering on his chest.
"How is it, you can stand out here in the sunlight, and yet this - " she reached inside her shirt and lifted out the cross pendant, holding it toward him - "does that?"
Spike held up his hand. "Don't mention it." His mouth twisted. "Oh wait, you didn't."
Buffy's eyes blazed. "What, you want me to thank you? For stepping in? This was your idea, don't forget. How do I know it wasn't just some kind of elaborate eating ritual?"
He looked at her, steadily. "The answer to your first question is, it isn't real." He pointed towards the sky and in spite of herself Buffy followed his gaze upwards. "The sunlight."
Shading her eyes Buffy could dimly make out a string of studio lights criss-crossing the blue arc above them.
"You didn't think it was strange we had a rainbow and no rain?"
At that moment Rod and Freddy came racing up, belatedly recovering their senses.
"What happened there?"
Buffy jabbed a finger towards Spike.
"He is a vampire."
Rod relaxed. "Yeah, but he has that thing." He turned to Freddy. "I guess we should call it a day. Thanks for your help, Buffy. See you around."
Spike smirked as the two men walked away. "You heard him, I have that thing." He frowned suddenly. "They don't usually give out that kind of information to guests - me being a vampire, I mean."
Buffy's eyes narrowed. "I did my research."
"Who are you?"
"Buffy. The vampire slayer, to you."
Spike raised his eyebrows. "The Slayer? And yet I'm still breathing. Well, not breathing exactly." He tilted his head towards her. "Is it because I have that thing?"
Before Buffy could reply there was screech of brakes, and a battered DeSoto rounded the corner and rammed to a halt in front of them.
"Geoffrey?" Buffy exclaimed, as he emerged from the car, red-faced and panting.
"We made a mistake," he burst out.
"We? So wait, you tell me I'm on my own for this one, you mess up, and that's my fault too how?"
Spike looked on, amusement crackling in his face.
Geoffrey hung back awkwardly. "The shoes...they, um...they're not a matching pair."
"Telling me I've got two left feet might not be your best move right now," Buffy cautioned.
Geoffrey shook his head. "No, one of each. That's the problem. The right one's the wrong shoe."
"And the left one's right?" Spike cut in, rolling his eyes in mock horror. "Cover your ears, children. Remember what we learnt about directions last week."
"Shut up. What do you mean it's wrong?"
"There was a mix-up at the warehouse. They sent one ruby slipper and one red shoe."
Buffy stretched one foot out in front of her. "Come again?"
Geoffrey winced. "The Red Shoes belonged to a girl who danced to her death in them. I wouldn't jig your foot like that if I were you. Especially not the right one."
Buffy rounded on him, angrily. "It's a bit late for that. Tell me how it is that I'm sent here in the shoes of death and you appear to have come by road."
"The wonders of GPS," Geoffrey answered, with an attempted smile that was very quickly doused by the expression on Buffy's face.
Spike stepped in. "Cheer up, Goldilocks, there's no harm done. Wrong side of bed this morning was it? Or maybe it just wasn't your bed."
Buffy glowered at him. "Do not start."
"Believe me, I've no intention of getting involved. There were three in the bed, and the little one said, roll over, roll over. I'm going to leave you two to it."
Buffy leapt into action. "You are not going back inside that house. I came here to protect Zippy and George and...and - "
"Bungle," Spike supplied helpfully.
"Exactly."
Geoffrey's eyes lit up.
"Bungle and Zippy and George?"
"Oh my!" Spike chimed in. Buffy glared at him, but he was unrepentant. "What? Keep up, Dorothy. We're not in Kansas any more."
"Oh, if you only had a brain."
"I do have a brain. It's a heartbeat I'm lacking. Write that down. It'll come in useful, vampire slaying. Have you heard of a thing called a stake?"
"One more word out of you and I'll make you wish I hadn't."
Sensing that now might be a good moment to make his escape, Geoffrey headed into the house.
"He's harmless, right?" Spike asked, nodding his head in Geoffrey's direction.
"Comparatively," Buffy answered, pointedly.
"What is your problem? I seem to recall about ten minutes back you were on your way to being toast, if I hadn't risked being chargrilled myself to save you. Can't you cut me some slack?"
"You're William the Bloody. You killed two Slayers."
"And you weren't one of them?" Spike rejoined, his eyes glittering gold as he stepped towards her with a snarl.
He clutched his head in sudden pain as without warning the light around them dimmed, replaced by a flashing red beam and the shrill peal of an alarm.
A figure approached, shining a flashlight in their direction.
"We have a situation here. Move away from the Hostile, ma'am."
Buffy looked up in astonishment. "Riley?"
"Buffy?"
Spike groaned. "What is this, bleedin' This is Your Life?"
Riley ignored him. "How have you been?"
"Not so bad. You?"
"Doing OK, mostly." He bit his lip. "I should have known you'd come for him, sooner or later. I'm guessing it's him you're here for, and not me?" Buffy's silence answered that for him, and he continued. "Look, he won't recognise you. He's had his memories altered."
"I've had what?" thundered Spike.
"Hold on," Buffy reached out suddenly and laid her hand on Spike's arm. "What did you say?"
Riley gestured towards the house. "You'd better come inside."
* * * * *
It had taken no time for Geoffrey to make himself at home, Buffy noted wryly, as they headed back indoors. He was sitting at the table, sharing a pot of tea with Jane and overseeing a potato printing session. The animated chatter ceased abruptly as Riley walked past, barely acknowledging them as he settled himself on the couch. Buffy returned to the rocking chair, ignoring the look Spike flung in her direction as he drew up the straight-backed chair.
Riley appeared disconcerted as Zippy, George and Bungle assembled themselves eagerly on the rug in front of him, but began his story nevertheless.
"When I left Sunnydale I needed something to negotiate with. I had to prove I was for real. So I let the guys know where they could find Hostile 17."
"Find what?" Buffy queried.
"Your friend Spike here."
George beamed. "This story is about you," he informed Spike confidentially.
"Damn right it had better be," Spike winked back, but Buffy felt the note of menace in his tone.
"Go on," she said to Riley.
"They brought him here. It's a government facility for demon rehabilitation. This is the observation program. They have cameras in here twenty-four seven."
Spike spluttered. "What? My contract says cameras stop rolling at lights out."
"Your contract also says no alcohol."
Spike looked shame-faced.
Buffy surveyed the scene around her and turned to Riley, incredulously. "Wait, this is scientific research?"
"Right. We knew the chip would stop him hurting humans, but we wanted to find out if behaviour modification would allow him to live peaceably among benign sub-human species, like anthropomorphised bears."
"I don't understand anything you're saying. Except maybe bears. What's a chip?"
"You remember."
"No, that's just it, Riley, I don't remember. I don't remember anything about my friend Spike here except that he has this weird way of talking me into things I have no intention of doing."
"Thanks," Spike acknowledged.
Momentary panic ruptured Riley's composure. "You don't remember him? At all? That's - surprising." He thought for a moment. "You don't watch Passions, do you?"
Buffy looked embarrassed. "Now and again."
"Wow." Riley shook his head in disbelief. "Talk about taking a walk on the dark side."
Buffy fixed him with a look. "If it's the moral high ground you're after I'd back down that route pretty fast."
"I'm sorry, it's just - we had no idea there were other viewers." He hesitated for a moment, still shaking his head. "Look, we set it up. It's subliminally coded - a sort of selective mind control, if you like."
Buffy's eyes flashed. "If I like? You're telling me I've been brainwashed. I think 'like' might be overselling it."
Riley pulled himself as upright as the sofa would allow. "Brainwashed? Hardly. We just manipulated a few memories. Look, he's had a couple of details from his past edited. I guess - I guess that's what's happened with you." He continued before Buffy could reply. "It's not irreversible. Just leave off Passions, and it'll right itself soon enough."
Spike's face had darkened, and Buffy was about to say something more when Zippy gave an exaggerated yawn and Bungle tugged at Riley's combats.
"When does he get rescued by the beautiful princess?"
Riley got up to leave. "I shouldn't have told you this. I just - I thought you'd already blown our cover. The data's compromised now, so I'm gonna have to take Hostile 17 here for recycling." He turned back to Buffy, his shoulders suddenly stooped. "Unless you want him?"
Buffy met his gaze, steely-eyed. "I'll take him."
Riley nodded and marched out, leaving the three on the rug staring after him, bemused.
"Did they all live happily ever after?" George enquired, anxiously.
Buffy turned to them. "Zippy, Bingo - "
"Bungle," Spike amended.
"Bungle. George. I need a word with your...um...with Spike."
"Skadaddle!" Spike instructed, waving a hand towards the door.
Geoffrey got up from the table. "Come on," he said, "Let's go and play in the garden."
Jane followed them to the door.
Buffy leaned over the arm of her chair. "Wait, Jane - Rod said something before about Spike having a - um - thing?"
Jane nodded. "He has a chip in his head. It means he can't hurt humans. Except when you let him make the tea, that is." She grinned. "Honestly, compared to Mr Chip-On-His-Shoulder who dropped in just now, a chip in the head's not such a big deal. It was nice to meet you, Buffy."
She made her way out, leaving the Slayer and her one-time vampire nemesis facing one another across the rug.
"Spike."
"Buffy."
"You're coming back with me."
"You can drive, can you?"
"Technically, no."
"Then technically, you're coming back with me."
"Fine," Buffy assented, "but we end up anywhere but Sunnydale and I will personally recycle you."
Spike cocked his head, looking as if he was enjoying the threat more than she had intended. He wanted clarification on one point, though.
"Sunnydale? Is that sunny as in, vampire barbecue sunny?"
"That's sunny as in, one fully-furnished luxury all-underground crypt going spare, since it looks like Geoffrey's staying here, sunny."
"Right." He thought for a moment. "Two things. One: if I come back with you, you don't get to call me sonny. Ever. And two: last time we talked about this, I think you were the Slayer?"
Buffy looked straight back at him. "You can't kill me; I don't kill you. That's how it works."
"OK, but just - give me a minute. Gotta say goodbye."
"Fine, but no snacking. What? I know your kind."
Spike leaned in towards her. "I'm one of a kind. Remember that."
"I have a horrible feeling that sooner or later, I will," Buffy responded, pulling back a little. "Spike, do you remember - anything - about before?"
He looked down, rubbing the back of his head.
"I'd have this dream, sometimes. Always the same story."
"Tell me about it," Buffy entreated.
Spike smiled and shook his head. "You know the one. Little blonde girl, breaks in and turns everything upside down."
A glimmer of a smile crossed Buffy's face as Spike rose to his feet and held out his hand towards her.
"C'mon, Goldilocks, let's get this show on the road."
* * * * *
THE END
And a very happy 2010 to you all!
Catch up: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3
Spike has saved Buffy, but at what cost? Will the truth be revealed? At this point, will anyone care?
Hee, I will. :)
Chapter 4
For a moment Buffy stood without moving, mesmerised by the hypnotic thud of her own heartbeat, and then Slayer mode kicked in - not to mention the smell of burning - and she pulled away.
She looked across at Spike, the unmistakable outline of a charred cross still smouldering on his chest.
"How is it, you can stand out here in the sunlight, and yet this - " she reached inside her shirt and lifted out the cross pendant, holding it toward him - "does that?"
Spike held up his hand. "Don't mention it." His mouth twisted. "Oh wait, you didn't."
Buffy's eyes blazed. "What, you want me to thank you? For stepping in? This was your idea, don't forget. How do I know it wasn't just some kind of elaborate eating ritual?"
He looked at her, steadily. "The answer to your first question is, it isn't real." He pointed towards the sky and in spite of herself Buffy followed his gaze upwards. "The sunlight."
Shading her eyes Buffy could dimly make out a string of studio lights criss-crossing the blue arc above them.
"You didn't think it was strange we had a rainbow and no rain?"
At that moment Rod and Freddy came racing up, belatedly recovering their senses.
"What happened there?"
Buffy jabbed a finger towards Spike.
"He is a vampire."
Rod relaxed. "Yeah, but he has that thing." He turned to Freddy. "I guess we should call it a day. Thanks for your help, Buffy. See you around."
Spike smirked as the two men walked away. "You heard him, I have that thing." He frowned suddenly. "They don't usually give out that kind of information to guests - me being a vampire, I mean."
Buffy's eyes narrowed. "I did my research."
"Who are you?"
"Buffy. The vampire slayer, to you."
Spike raised his eyebrows. "The Slayer? And yet I'm still breathing. Well, not breathing exactly." He tilted his head towards her. "Is it because I have that thing?"
Before Buffy could reply there was screech of brakes, and a battered DeSoto rounded the corner and rammed to a halt in front of them.
"Geoffrey?" Buffy exclaimed, as he emerged from the car, red-faced and panting.
"We made a mistake," he burst out.
"We? So wait, you tell me I'm on my own for this one, you mess up, and that's my fault too how?"
Spike looked on, amusement crackling in his face.
Geoffrey hung back awkwardly. "The shoes...they, um...they're not a matching pair."
"Telling me I've got two left feet might not be your best move right now," Buffy cautioned.
Geoffrey shook his head. "No, one of each. That's the problem. The right one's the wrong shoe."
"And the left one's right?" Spike cut in, rolling his eyes in mock horror. "Cover your ears, children. Remember what we learnt about directions last week."
"Shut up. What do you mean it's wrong?"
"There was a mix-up at the warehouse. They sent one ruby slipper and one red shoe."
Buffy stretched one foot out in front of her. "Come again?"
Geoffrey winced. "The Red Shoes belonged to a girl who danced to her death in them. I wouldn't jig your foot like that if I were you. Especially not the right one."
Buffy rounded on him, angrily. "It's a bit late for that. Tell me how it is that I'm sent here in the shoes of death and you appear to have come by road."
"The wonders of GPS," Geoffrey answered, with an attempted smile that was very quickly doused by the expression on Buffy's face.
Spike stepped in. "Cheer up, Goldilocks, there's no harm done. Wrong side of bed this morning was it? Or maybe it just wasn't your bed."
Buffy glowered at him. "Do not start."
"Believe me, I've no intention of getting involved. There were three in the bed, and the little one said, roll over, roll over. I'm going to leave you two to it."
Buffy leapt into action. "You are not going back inside that house. I came here to protect Zippy and George and...and - "
"Bungle," Spike supplied helpfully.
"Exactly."
Geoffrey's eyes lit up.
"Bungle and Zippy and George?"
"Oh my!" Spike chimed in. Buffy glared at him, but he was unrepentant. "What? Keep up, Dorothy. We're not in Kansas any more."
"Oh, if you only had a brain."
"I do have a brain. It's a heartbeat I'm lacking. Write that down. It'll come in useful, vampire slaying. Have you heard of a thing called a stake?"
"One more word out of you and I'll make you wish I hadn't."
Sensing that now might be a good moment to make his escape, Geoffrey headed into the house.
"He's harmless, right?" Spike asked, nodding his head in Geoffrey's direction.
"Comparatively," Buffy answered, pointedly.
"What is your problem? I seem to recall about ten minutes back you were on your way to being toast, if I hadn't risked being chargrilled myself to save you. Can't you cut me some slack?"
"You're William the Bloody. You killed two Slayers."
"And you weren't one of them?" Spike rejoined, his eyes glittering gold as he stepped towards her with a snarl.
He clutched his head in sudden pain as without warning the light around them dimmed, replaced by a flashing red beam and the shrill peal of an alarm.
A figure approached, shining a flashlight in their direction.
"We have a situation here. Move away from the Hostile, ma'am."
Buffy looked up in astonishment. "Riley?"
"Buffy?"
Spike groaned. "What is this, bleedin' This is Your Life?"
Riley ignored him. "How have you been?"
"Not so bad. You?"
"Doing OK, mostly." He bit his lip. "I should have known you'd come for him, sooner or later. I'm guessing it's him you're here for, and not me?" Buffy's silence answered that for him, and he continued. "Look, he won't recognise you. He's had his memories altered."
"I've had what?" thundered Spike.
"Hold on," Buffy reached out suddenly and laid her hand on Spike's arm. "What did you say?"
Riley gestured towards the house. "You'd better come inside."
* * * * *
It had taken no time for Geoffrey to make himself at home, Buffy noted wryly, as they headed back indoors. He was sitting at the table, sharing a pot of tea with Jane and overseeing a potato printing session. The animated chatter ceased abruptly as Riley walked past, barely acknowledging them as he settled himself on the couch. Buffy returned to the rocking chair, ignoring the look Spike flung in her direction as he drew up the straight-backed chair.
Riley appeared disconcerted as Zippy, George and Bungle assembled themselves eagerly on the rug in front of him, but began his story nevertheless.
"When I left Sunnydale I needed something to negotiate with. I had to prove I was for real. So I let the guys know where they could find Hostile 17."
"Find what?" Buffy queried.
"Your friend Spike here."
George beamed. "This story is about you," he informed Spike confidentially.
"Damn right it had better be," Spike winked back, but Buffy felt the note of menace in his tone.
"Go on," she said to Riley.
"They brought him here. It's a government facility for demon rehabilitation. This is the observation program. They have cameras in here twenty-four seven."
Spike spluttered. "What? My contract says cameras stop rolling at lights out."
"Your contract also says no alcohol."
Spike looked shame-faced.
Buffy surveyed the scene around her and turned to Riley, incredulously. "Wait, this is scientific research?"
"Right. We knew the chip would stop him hurting humans, but we wanted to find out if behaviour modification would allow him to live peaceably among benign sub-human species, like anthropomorphised bears."
"I don't understand anything you're saying. Except maybe bears. What's a chip?"
"You remember."
"No, that's just it, Riley, I don't remember. I don't remember anything about my friend Spike here except that he has this weird way of talking me into things I have no intention of doing."
"Thanks," Spike acknowledged.
Momentary panic ruptured Riley's composure. "You don't remember him? At all? That's - surprising." He thought for a moment. "You don't watch Passions, do you?"
Buffy looked embarrassed. "Now and again."
"Wow." Riley shook his head in disbelief. "Talk about taking a walk on the dark side."
Buffy fixed him with a look. "If it's the moral high ground you're after I'd back down that route pretty fast."
"I'm sorry, it's just - we had no idea there were other viewers." He hesitated for a moment, still shaking his head. "Look, we set it up. It's subliminally coded - a sort of selective mind control, if you like."
Buffy's eyes flashed. "If I like? You're telling me I've been brainwashed. I think 'like' might be overselling it."
Riley pulled himself as upright as the sofa would allow. "Brainwashed? Hardly. We just manipulated a few memories. Look, he's had a couple of details from his past edited. I guess - I guess that's what's happened with you." He continued before Buffy could reply. "It's not irreversible. Just leave off Passions, and it'll right itself soon enough."
Spike's face had darkened, and Buffy was about to say something more when Zippy gave an exaggerated yawn and Bungle tugged at Riley's combats.
"When does he get rescued by the beautiful princess?"
Riley got up to leave. "I shouldn't have told you this. I just - I thought you'd already blown our cover. The data's compromised now, so I'm gonna have to take Hostile 17 here for recycling." He turned back to Buffy, his shoulders suddenly stooped. "Unless you want him?"
Buffy met his gaze, steely-eyed. "I'll take him."
Riley nodded and marched out, leaving the three on the rug staring after him, bemused.
"Did they all live happily ever after?" George enquired, anxiously.
Buffy turned to them. "Zippy, Bingo - "
"Bungle," Spike amended.
"Bungle. George. I need a word with your...um...with Spike."
"Skadaddle!" Spike instructed, waving a hand towards the door.
Geoffrey got up from the table. "Come on," he said, "Let's go and play in the garden."
Jane followed them to the door.
Buffy leaned over the arm of her chair. "Wait, Jane - Rod said something before about Spike having a - um - thing?"
Jane nodded. "He has a chip in his head. It means he can't hurt humans. Except when you let him make the tea, that is." She grinned. "Honestly, compared to Mr Chip-On-His-Shoulder who dropped in just now, a chip in the head's not such a big deal. It was nice to meet you, Buffy."
She made her way out, leaving the Slayer and her one-time vampire nemesis facing one another across the rug.
"Spike."
"Buffy."
"You're coming back with me."
"You can drive, can you?"
"Technically, no."
"Then technically, you're coming back with me."
"Fine," Buffy assented, "but we end up anywhere but Sunnydale and I will personally recycle you."
Spike cocked his head, looking as if he was enjoying the threat more than she had intended. He wanted clarification on one point, though.
"Sunnydale? Is that sunny as in, vampire barbecue sunny?"
"That's sunny as in, one fully-furnished luxury all-underground crypt going spare, since it looks like Geoffrey's staying here, sunny."
"Right." He thought for a moment. "Two things. One: if I come back with you, you don't get to call me sonny. Ever. And two: last time we talked about this, I think you were the Slayer?"
Buffy looked straight back at him. "You can't kill me; I don't kill you. That's how it works."
"OK, but just - give me a minute. Gotta say goodbye."
"Fine, but no snacking. What? I know your kind."
Spike leaned in towards her. "I'm one of a kind. Remember that."
"I have a horrible feeling that sooner or later, I will," Buffy responded, pulling back a little. "Spike, do you remember - anything - about before?"
He looked down, rubbing the back of his head.
"I'd have this dream, sometimes. Always the same story."
"Tell me about it," Buffy entreated.
Spike smiled and shook his head. "You know the one. Little blonde girl, breaks in and turns everything upside down."
A glimmer of a smile crossed Buffy's face as Spike rose to his feet and held out his hand towards her.
"C'mon, Goldilocks, let's get this show on the road."
* * * * *
THE END
And a very happy 2010 to you all!