Author's notes: What, I have to have something to say? Okay, okay, I'll spit something out. This episode of "As the Slayer Messes Up" is brought to you by Angel, storyteller extrodinaire. In fact, his narrative opens and closes this little piece of fiction (so, in case you were wondering, no, I don't insert myself into this story. Often). So, sit tight, relax, and have some popcorn or something. You look hungry.
Summary: Buffy and Lun@ disagree.
A BIG THANKS TO: My Kitten, who's going to regret that she ever started writing to me... No, I'm not chuckling evily, why do you ask? Kitt's been a real chock full of inspiration and encouragement. And no, smartass, that's not sarcasm. THIS is sarcasm, oh Brighteyes.
Website: The Scribs: Home of the Insane Fanfiction Writer Cassima
"You fight with passion, my friend. It's too bad you have no skill."
--Joxer, "For Whom the Bell Tolls", Xena
The day started as any other. Of course, if I had seen the future, if I could have seen what Buffy would do, I would have stopped her. I would have locked her up, knocked her out, whatever. Begged, cajoled, used the little pouty eye trick, the one I swore I'd never use again...
But, she's just got a hard head. She had to issue that challenge. And Diab, she's got a streak so stubborn she could out-buzz a bee, just to prove that she could.
I should have seen it coming.
They had been getting along together so well--despite obvious personality and interest clashes--that it should have happened sooner. The conditions were right, the timing was right... by all the laws of physics and nature, both human and not, it should have.
I figure that it must have been the pressure and the introduction to the new scene that set them off. Buffy should have recognized the glint in Diab's eye. Diab should have gone easier on her.
I understand that Diab was going through something, but it's very unprofessional of her to let it seep into her work. A bad day is no excuse to be as childish as she was. But, maybe she knew what she was doing. Maybe this result was her goal...
This is stupid. They're letting their egos rule. If they were guys, people would say they had left their brains in their pants.
I can pinpoint the exact moment when I lost hope...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Earlier that day*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"We will begin the training with lightweight, rag-tipped ends. You will wear padding--all the padding--that I require you to. From there, you will be allowed to practice with the oak staff, but only with padding on the tips. You will carry a staff with you when you fight vampires with pointy ends. After I deem you 'good' enough, we will slowly begin to use less and less padding. Understood?"
Buffy's expression was indignant and insulted, cheeks burning with the humiliation of the babying. "This is ridiculous!" she exclaimed, a frown settling over her features. Her eyes narrowed. "I'm beyond the staff! I don't need to work on this! Giles lets me use crossbows!"
Lun@ snorted. "Crossbows are a whole 'nother chicken. I hate them." She sniffed. "Automatic weapons! Humph!"
"They make your life easier!"
"They make it more complicated!"
"How difficult could it be?" Buffy cried, rolling her eyes. "Pointy end goes in--here." She pointed.
"Oh, no shit?" Lun@ responded. "Well, crossbows are a bitch to use. They're clunky and big."
"So's a staff," the slayer pointed out.
"But a staff is always ready for use. Even if you break it, you can still use the pieces. Besides, there's no reloading with a staff. Just aim and hit. Oh, and the pointy end still goes--here. It's just a lot bigger. Put on the padding."
"I don't need it."
"Yes, you do. You need to get used to moving with it on."
"I'm not going to spar with it on. I'll be fine."
"Put it on. Pick up the light staff. Meet me out back in fifteen minutes." That was not the tone of one who was used to being disobeyed.
Buffy's lip tightened as she watched her Guardian leave. Pausing, she made her decision.
She picked up the heavy, oak staff and walked out back, strolling at a leisurely pace. Hell, she knew what she was ready for, didn't she?
As she rounded the corner, she saw her Guardian practicing with one of the cheap bamboo staffs. Lun@ was very fluid in her movements, all of which were very simple. Buffy, spotting Lun@'s sandals placed neatly on the ground, removed hers as well and set them next to Lun@'s.
Lun@ continued her Form rhythmically. It entranced Buffy, all those movements put together to make one, like a singer singing a complicated but smooth scale pattern, but she had no use for them. In fighting, she reasoned, everything is spontaneous. You can't plan your fights down to the letter. Certain combos, certainly, but not anything that you could use this routine on. It's just memorization.
After ten minutes, Lun@ finally ended her imaginary battle with her imaginary opponents. Opening her eyes, she noticed Buffy with a hint of surprise and a question in her green eyes. "You won't be needing that one, you'll be needing the bamboo pole."
"I know how to use a quarterstaff! Besides, who am I going to be fighting, Friar Tuck? This is the twentieth century!"
"He's a fictional character. And you need to prove you can use one. You've had no formal training, right? No one has, nowadays. He lets you get away with sloppy things, doesn't he? Giles, I mean."
"Giles is a good teacher," Buffy protested.
"You mean 'easy'. It's a blow off class. Don't give me that look," Lun@ snapped, "I've seen your sessions. They're lacking in something called skill."
Angel looked out from the temple, careful to stay indoors. What was Buffy thinking?!? He had warned her about Lun@'s vindictiveness... hadn't he?
He continued to watch them bicker, with increasing alarm.
My god, Buffy, fighting is the thing Diab excels at... don't challenge her knowledge of weapons!! Would you tell Giles he's researching something wrong? Shit, she probably would... He paced back and forth, like a caged beast, watching out the back door. Buff, you're asking for it... Please, one of you, back down! ...Oh, yeah, right, that'll happen.
Then he heard the words he really didn't want to hear:
"Fine, you think you're so hot? Then, I challenge you to a sparring match!"
"Good! If I win, you let me train you."
"And, if I win, we move on to something more useful!"
"This is useful!"
"You'll teach what I want to learn," Buffy amended.
"The student doesn't direct the teacher!"
"Well, maybe the student doesn't want to be taught!"
"Maybe the student better be taught, to save her careless life!"
"You think my life is careless?!?"
"You wanted your duel? Well, you're going to get it. One person picks location, the other picks weapon. Your choice."
"I'll pick weapon."
"Good. We fight to the unconsciousness."
"I don't think--"
"We're both mature fighters. We can take it. You knock me unconscious, and I'll survive. I knock you, I'll heal you up. You won't even have a headache."
"But, you--"
"I'm newly alive, remember? I wouldn't do anything to damage my new status as the living undead. Knocking me out will test my immune system. Give it a work out."
Suddenly, there was a suspicious tone in Buffy's voice. "How do I know that you can be knocked out? Maybe you aren't alive."
"You think I'm lying?!?"
"It wouldn't be the first time.""You doubt my honor?" For a moment, something dark flitted through her eye, something of the late Diabolique. And then she was nonchalant. "I swear on the grave of my parents that I'm not lying."
"Great."
Their scene had gathered quite a crowd now, and everyone was murmuring uneasily.
"We'll meet back here in fifteen minutes," Lun@ said stiffly.
"Fine. I'll bring the weapons," Buffy responded.
Xander cried, "Hey, you two, let's be reasonable!"
Giles restrained him. "It's time for them to work out their dominance issues," he told him gently.
"Ah, too much testosterone," Xander reasoned nervously.
Buffy and Lun@ shook hands, after which Buffy turned to Giles and reprimanded him for his comment. "I hate being referred to as if I'm an animal."
"Oh. Sorry."
Angel paced back and forth liked a caged tiger, growling a little.
"Easy there," Buffy reprimanded him. "You're going to wear out the floorboards, and then you have to explain to the Priestess why there's a hole next to her Sacred Fire."
"This is stupid!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "She shouldn't be accepting a duel from her charge! She's supposed to protect you, not kill you!" The sacred fire crackled.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Buffy responded dryly.
Giles sighed from his seat by the door. "Buffy... do you really feel it necessary to trade blows with your Guardian Angel?"
"Yes." She turned to her boyfriend. "Angel, I know you don't like this, but please, can't you support me?"
He was torn. Who do I root for, my best friend or my Buffy? He closed his eyes, stopped his pacing, and made his decision. "She hits high and leaves her bottom half open to attacks. Watch out for her fakes and combos. Sometimes you can't tell them apart."
Buffy smiled, realizing what this meant to him. "Thanks." Giving him a little kiss, she picked up two of the oak staffs and strolled out back with them.
Giles remained seated by the door. "That was kind of you," he said quietly, polishing his glasses.
"Not really."
"You lied?"
"No."
There was a pause.
"At least now she'll get her formal training."
Angel grunted.
Giles looked up. "Tea?"
She was totally centered. Absolutely, totally, undeniably centered. Opening her eyes, she blinked at the blonde in front of her.
Not who she was expecting to see.
She suddenly snapped back to the present. "Buffy."
"Lun@."
"Weapons?"
Buffy threw her a staff. "Location?"
Lun@ caught it and leaned it against her shoulder. It easily stood taller than her. "Here. Now."
Buffy barely glanced at the crowd around them. "Let's get it on."
Rei came forward seriously. "You two be careful. Fight by the rules. No ear biting. Once the other person is down for the count, that's it. It's over. No magic, either, got it?"
Both fighters nodded.
"All right, then... begin!"
Buffy and Lun@ bowed to each other. Angel thought he saw Lun@ wink.
This is it... he realized with dawning horror. His uneasiness slowly gave way to the underlying dread that had been filling his soul. Buffy's going to go down.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Later Again~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"It was too easy," she murmurs, sipping a cup of Giles' tea.
I shoot her a look. "There's no need to gloat."
Her eyes widen in surprise. "Was I gloating?" I don't think she's mocking me, but it's hard to be sure.
"A bit."
"I'm sorry."
A miniscule shrug. I can feel it on my shoulders. "Really, though, was that last blow absolutely necessary?"
"Prob'ly not," she admits.
That's Diabolique for you. She'd probably be casual towards her captors if she was being tortured. She likes that air of indifference, the one that says, "do whatever you like, 'cause I don't give a damn either way."
"How can you be so calm about this?" I demand.
"I have to be," she murmurs into her tea, eyes downcast. "I can't let myself think about the fact that I just beat my charge to a bloody pulp. I feel... dirty." Her mask has slipped for just a moment. "The others will hate me."
And they will. In time, forgiveness will occur, but not now. And Xander will never completely trust her again. Xander, the boy who used to worship the ground she walked on, will now mistrust her until the end of time. How can she stand knowing she's on everyone's hit list? I asked her once.
"It's a dirty job," she replied with a small, smug smile, "but somebody's gotta do it. I'm doing them a favor; it could be them stuck with this job."
I don't buy it; not entirely, anyway. Diab is lonely. I know she is. I'm her only real friend. She's used to the loneliness now, though; I'm not sure she knows how to make friends anymore, or what to do with them if any did appear.
Giles places a hand on her shoulder. "Lun@."
She raises her head to look at his chin. "Giles?"
"More tea?"
There is a hint of shyness in her eyes as she extends her nearly-empty cup to be refilled. "Thanks, Giles."
She isn't thanking him for the tea, and he knows it.
"You did what you had to. There's no reason to beat yourself up about it." He pats her head. "She'll be back to herself tomorrow."
"Yes." She blows at her steaming cup half-heartedly. "I know."
Buffy stirs on the cot, and my attention is drawn away from Diab. "Buffy." It sounds a little desperate, even to my ears.
"Angel." She rolls over onto her side to face me. "Hey." There is a pause. "I didn't win, did I?"
I shake my head. "You gave her a hell of a shiner, though."
"Great. So, I guess that means I'll be going back to the basics."
"Even the masters go back to the basics."
"You're sweet. I suppose I should face the music." She sighs and sits up. Sure enough, all the bruises had been healed by the magical sign Lun@ traced earlier. "Where's Lun@?"
I turn around. "She's right..." But she's gone. "She probably just stepped out for a moment."
"How long've I been out?" She rubs her head a little and stretches.
"A little over 5 hours."
"Wow." She bites her lip glumly. "I really thought I'd win. Thanks."
"For what?"
"For not saying 'I told you so'."
I just hug her.
When the sun had finished setting and Lun@ still hadn't returned to the room, I slipped out to look for her. She was sitting out on the temple steps, huddled into a ball, alone.
She needs someone with her right now, I thought to myself. Someone needs to go out there and talk to her.
But I couldn't. And neither could anyone else there.
So, I turned around and went back in to nurse Buffy's wounded ego.
