DISCLAIMER: Joss is owned by Buffy... I mean, Buffy is owned by Joss. Geez, what am I on? Okay, the same goes for Xander, Willow, Giles, Calendar, etc. The X-Files and all related hoopla is owned by Chris Carter, damn him and his wily ways. I own Diabolique and my socks. Of course, I own the story, too... so, don't copy it, okay? Thanks a doodle dandy. Hey, if you want to use any characters here, I can't stop you. I'd be kinda cool, though, if you told me where you were putting it so that I could see how you mutilated my creations. Or you don't have to. But, I'd appreciate it. Okay, I'm done babbling. For now.
Ha-ha, I lied. I'm not. Okay, this part is short and sweet in honor of the two long ones before it. I'm sorry if this is taking a while, but I'm busy coding the html. :) Oh, well. Okay, NOW I'm done.
Website: The Scribs: Home of the Insane Fanfiction Writer Cassima
"A what?"
"You, uh, already asked that, Buffy."
"Not another one!"
"Giles, I think you're making 'em up. Yep, after 50 years sleeping next to those books, you've finally cracked."
"Now, hush, you two. I don't see the dog complaining."
The dog yawned and rolled over, enjoying the warmth of the blanket lying on the floor.
Xander glared at her. "Lucky dog."
Giles turned back to Buffy. "You need to pay attention to the prophecies. They're very important."
The dog sat up, looking at the group. "He's right, you know. You do need to listen to prophecies. They're tricky, though. Sometimes, hearing of them is what makes them come true. They tend to omit certain technical details..."
She grew into a girl, stretching her arms, and walked over to the book. "For example, the death one, when you died. Boy, was the Dude in charge pissed. You would've thought that we had planned it that way or something. Of course, he is just in a pissy mood lately, ever since--but, I digress. Anywho, back to prophecies that, when you read them, come true. I can give you about a gazillion more that will not cease to bore you to tears, so I won't. But then, they can also save your butt and the butt of the planet." She picked a random book out of the pile and flipped through it. "So, though the writers are all really cryptic, the stupid things tend to come true more often than not. Actually," she looked up, "I've never heard of them not coming true. In the deepest technical or poetic sense, they always come true. I can tell you all the tricks and trades of prophecies, but... I sense I've already been tuned out. Okay, back to station K-GILES." She began to read through the book, translating the ancient Italian as she went along.
Giles brought Buffy into the next room, determined to teach her how to use a "Moon Stake", as he called it. Willow began to surf the net, looking for the real, down-to-life vampire chat rooms. Xander watched as the unnamed one silently mouthed the words to the prophecies she was reading.
"Y'know, there are classes for that," he told her.
"Hmm?" She looked startled.
"They really teach you how to read much better."
"I know how to read, thank you very much! Angels of Death are hardly illiterate hicks."
"Well, obviously not very well. I mean, you're mouthing the words as you go along!" Xander gave her a "ha, ha, gotcha now!" look.
"Call me when you can read in Ancient Italian without mouthing the words." Her breath tightened as she became focused on a particular prophecy.
"Oh. Hey, how come you breathe?"
She looked up, exasperated. "You mean no one has explained this to you yet?"
"Nope. Enlighten me."
"Well, I breathe to take in oxygen. The heart pumps blood to the lungs, where it gets charged up with oxygen. From there, the blood goes to all the cells in the body, bringing them--"
"I tuned that all out in Bio when I had the chance. Why do you breathe?"
"You were just tuning me out, weren't you? I just started to explain--"
"You're dead!"
Willow looked at them from the computer. "You guys okay?"
"Just fine!" Xander called.
The girl rolled her eyes as Willow turned back to the computer. "Very good, Xander. And what color is the table?"
Xander glared back at her. "Vampires are dead and they don't breathe."
"I'm not a vampire. Shit, what's this say?"
Xander put a hand on her arm to get her attention back. "So why do you?"
The girl shook his hand off and reread the last prophecy. "Dammit! I knew it! I knew it was too good to be true!" She rummaged around in the stack of books surrounding her, looking for the ancient encyclopedia. Finding it, she thumbed her way to the 'B's', looking for something.
"Don't just shake me off! I will not be contained. I want to know what you're talking about and why you breathe."
"Xander, go get everyone over here. Tell them I've got some good news and some really, really bad news."
"Not until--"
She turned to him, her face contorting into a demonic snarl. "Now!"
"Now is good."
Xander rushed to retrieve Buffy and Giles from the small office as his friend found what she was searching for and frowned.
Giles hurried over. "What's the matter? Xander told us it was important."
"I've got some good news and some bad news. The bad news monstrously outweighs the good."
"What's the good news?" Buffy asked.
"I've picked a name. Lun@. That's my name."
"Ooh," Cordelia cried, "Now we get to stop calling her 'the dog' or 'the girl'... what?"
Giles smiled at Lun@. The smile fading from his face, he asked, "What's the bad news?"
She turned the encyclopedia around so that she could see what she had been researching. "These."
"Black Peruvian Roses?"
Her voice assumed a "lecture" tone. "They were bred in Italy a about 1200 years ago to give the Italian Resistance a force to fight off the Iberian Peninsula. No one knew how dangerous they could be."
"This is all very interesting," Buffy interrupted, "but what does it have to do with the price of hairspray in Taiwan?"
"When I was fighting Spike and Dru in the warehouse, I knocked over a pot of the roses. Then I killed the vamps."
"Oh, dear."
"Yep, that's what I said. Well, 'cept without the cute British accent."
Giles blushed and stammered a bit.
Buffy looked at them. "What? What, poisonous thorns?"
"No. They clone stuff."
"What?!?"
"It tends to cause problems. Then cloning tends to happen on a widespread scale. I read a prophecy about Spike and Drusilla... it's trouble. They're still alive."
"But you killed--"
"Clones."
"Oh."
Willow looked at the group of solemn faces, confused. "So... clones are bad?"
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Well, duh."
Giles took his glasses off and began to polish the spotless lenses. "Now, be nice. The clones are, uh, easy to get rid of, but, uh--"
"They're a pain in the butt," Lun@ finished.
"Well, uh... yes." Giles looked surprised at her slang expressions.
"I'm sorry, but I'm still trying to understand this. There's a bunch of cloned vampires running around kidnapping me? Is that fair?" Buffy wondered.
Willow seemed to be mentally ticking the facts off in her head and obviously came up a few short. "But... but... that's scientifically impossible! We can only clone cells and embryos and... things."
"Well, uh," stammered Giles, "it's not scientific, but, uh, magic."
"Ah. That would explain it. 'Cause, y'know, I was getting kinda worried. Cloning's a bad thing, isn't it?"
"Yes Willow," said Xander. "'Cause, y'know, it makes lotsa vampires. And vampires are those things with the pointy teeth that suck blood--"
"Uh, Xander?" Willow hesitated.
"And they like to kill people," he plunged on. "Not to be dissing our friend Angel--"
"Xander?"
"But, y'know, he is a blood sucking fiend, and once, just... he's right behind me, isn't he?"
"Um," Cordelia finished for Willow, "Like, yeah!"
A cool look passed between Angel and Lun@. "Angel," Lun@ greeted.
In a matched tone of voice, the vampire responded. "Diabolique."
A grim smile appeared on her face, and everyone held their breath, watching the exchange. "I'm not going by that name anymore. It's too hard to spell."
"You don't say."
"Yes, I do. And if you'll excuse me, I need to look up a few more facts before I destroy the world as you know it."
"Hardy har har."
"I mean, I am intent on evil in every way possible, especially if it effects you. Infact, I'm out to get you. I'm out to curse you, your home, your girlfriend, and your cow. Destroying all the annoying people in the world is just an exciting fringe benefit. And then I'm going tear out Buffy's fingernails and string them for a necklace."
Willow had a sudden image of Dia--er, Lun@ wearing a necklace of made of bloody fingernails. "That's disgusting."
"Can we insert a different name into this senario?" inquired a nervous Buffy. "This whole conversation is just giving me the willies."
"Let me sit here and try to think of ways to ruin your miserable little life, because I have nothing better to do with my extraneous time," Lun@ continued, ignoring everyone else.
Angel snorted. "You're so mature."
The girl's face twisted up, her good humor from before evaporating before everyone's eyes. "I'm sorry, Giles, but I can't work in here anymore; the waves of testosterone are strangling me. I'll have to research the Ginzuishou cult later." She closed the book in a puff of dust, stood up and stomped away, leaving the dust to settle quietly in the air.
There was a pause. "Well," Xander broke, "that went well." Cordelia was eyeing Angel. She was still obviously very nervous about him being a vampire. She wasn't too nervous, though, to put Xander in his place. "Get a life, moron."
"Oh my God!" The woman sat straight up in bed, trembling. "Not again!"
Rising, she walked shakily to the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. "My God..." She sat down on the toilet, letting the red flannel of her pajamas comfort her.
It was the same dream... she had it every night, so often that she was afraid to sleep. Swallowing, as if grasping at the last thread of the lifeline 44,000 km above ground, she blinked back sudden tears. Something big was coming, and only she knew it. Hell, she didn't even believe it.
I don't believe in magic, I don't believe in magic... she attempted to convince herself. It was just a dream... dreams mean something... it was my subconscious trying to tell me that I need to relax or something...
She shivered, not warm enough in her thin pajamas for the soft flannel to comfort her. Sighing, she filled a glass sitting by the sink with water. Sipping it, she wiped her mouth on her sleeve as she plodded back to bed.
Once there, though, she couldn't sleep. It's scientifically impossible, she thought. Just to convince herself, she announced, "It's scientifically impossible," out loud to the shadows around her. "If it were true, we'd know. There's no life on Pluto, Mars, Venus, Jupiter, Mercury, Neptune, Saturn, and Uranus, much less on the Moon." She knew then that it was no use to try to attempt sleep tonight. Not now. Not after she'd started talking to herself.
Sitting up again, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and stood. Aiming carefully for the desk on the opposite side of the room, she walked across and sat herself down in the chair. Picking up a half-finished report, she set it in front of her, scanning the contents to remind herself of what she'd written.
Oh, yeah, the Morrison case. Humph. A total waste of time. Unfortunately, all of her thoughts seemed to drift back to her dream of the falling castle and dying people. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate, she just couldn't get past the looks of horror on the faces of the dying. No! she cried to herself, No, no, no! Squeezing her eyes shut, she breathed deeply to focus herself on the work in front of her. Opening her eyes, she stared at the paper in front of her in horrible facination. Her reoccuring dream was forgotten as the terror of what lay before her on the paper jumped out, as if it had bitten her neck.
No. Dear God, no. The blood on the page formed a small pool on her report as she softly began to cry.
I have something to tell the author...
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