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Snakes on a Plane                                                                       Chapter   1   2   4   5   6   7   8

   by spikeNdru

Written for the Snakes on a Plane Challenge.  Any fandom, anything goes, as long as there are snakes on a plane somewhere in the story.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Genfic, Action/Adventure

Story takes place in the Wishverse

 

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Chapter Three


Buffy spent two uneventful days in her new home. On the third day, she decided that what she wanted most in this world was a bath. She was stinky and dirty and she itched all over from a combination of insect bites and dried sweat. If she took off the clothes that she'd been wearing for the last week or so, she was afraid they'd stand up all by themselves. That was it! She couldn't take it any more! She needed a bath before she forgot what it felt like to be clean, 'cause that would be dire. If she didn't bathe soon, when she finally got home, Barry—the homeless guy that hung out at the bus station—would turn up his nose at her because she smelled so bad!

An idea had been percolating in her mind while she slept, and now everything snapped into place and she knew how she could work it. Bath, here I come!

She hurried down the mound. It was easier to get up and down now. The thick vegetation had been crushed and compacted in the area she used frequently and seemed to form actual stairs. She hummed under her breath as she collected extra firewood and neatly piled it off to the side of her fire pit. During the past few days, she'd ringed the area directly under the opening to her campsite with large stones to contain her fire. Concentrating and containing her small cooking fire wasn't really necessary, but now it also became her first line of defense. She could add more wood to cause a sheet of fire to completely cover the opening. Buffy laughed. She'd heard of “firewalls”, but now she had an actual “fire door”. Anything trying to come at her at night would have to pass through a solid sheet of fire. Most animals wouldn't risk it, and she was betting most demons wouldn't either.

Buffy had also upgraded her water delivery system several days ago and now it worked smoothly and efficiently. She'd discovered a stele near the well that was perfect for her needs. The slender, upright, heavily-carved, stone marker anchored the strong, lightweight climbing rope she used to replace the braided vines. She attached one of those clip things, usually used to hook keys to your belt, to the other end of the rope and voila! State-of-the-art water delivery system.

Everything was in readiness and now she was going to have a nice, long bath!

Buffy opened her aluminum case and removed what was the cornerstone of her plan. She smiled as she walked purposefully to the wall farthest from her campfire. The distance was only eight feet, but that should be enough. She peeled off the plastic packaging and pulled the ripcord. Buffy laughed with delight as the inflatable dingy that she had originally thought so useless, began to fill with air. Now, all she needed to do was to fill it with water and she'd have her bath!

She made trip after trip to the well, and gradually, her boat filed with water. If she'd had a container that held more than a quart of water, the procedure would have gone much faster. Oh, well. Buffy shrugged. It's not like I have anything else to do to keep busy.

The sun sank behind the trees and twilight approached as Buffy continued to haul water for her bath. She crouched beside the well and prepared to pull her bucket up for what seemed like the thousandth time when she heard a snuffling noise. Buffy froze and concentrated on listening. Was that the sound of footsteps? She thought it was. She also thought she heard the sounds a body would make pressing through the vegetation. No . . . the sounds of two bodies.

Without moving her head, Buffy glanced around for something she could use as a weapon. There was nothing! She'd gotten careless—she'd been here for about a week, by her calculation, and hadn't seen any sign of other people or animals, so she hadn't bothered to arm herself. She'd gotten so used to thinking of herself as being absolutely alone, compounded by being so focused on the thought of a bath, that she'd become sloppy.

She heard a low growl from behind her and slowly turned her head. Two sets of golden eyes watched her with unblinking stares.

Oh shit!

One of the jaguars dropped low to the ground and began slinking forward on its belly, gathering itself for a leap. The other paced behind the first, never taking its eyes from Buffy. She couldn't run; they'd be on her in an instant, and the big cats were stronger and faster than she was. Even with slayer strength, she couldn't take them both on at once without any weapons.

The first jaguar gathered its hindquarters beneath it, preparing to jump. Buffy did the only thing she could. Her hand tightened on the rope and she flung herself into the well.

She hugged the stone side of the well, wrapped a leg around the rope for leverage, and slid down the rope as fast as possible. The cat skidded to a stop at the lip of the well and looked down at her. A huge paw swiped at the empty air where her body had crouched a moment ago. The cat let out a roar of frustration which was echoed by the second cat.

Approximately three-fourths of the way down the well shaft, Buffy heard the soft trickle of water on her right. She braced her feet against the rock wall and leaned to her right. Her questing fingers touched the west side of the shaft. Fresh, icy-cold water seeped through the rock from some underground spring to trickle into the pool below. Buffy cupped her hand until it filled with water and brought it to her mouth to drink. This was the source of the fresh water that fed the well.

The swaying of the rope as she made her discovery attracted the attention of the big cats above. Buffy felt the rope jerk as it was batted by the jaguar's paw. The cat's claws hooked the rope again, and Buffy climbed farther down into the well. She fumbled for the slender mag light in her pocket and shone it downward. An inhuman face stared at her from the pool and she nearly dropped the light. She clung tighter to the rope, which swayed back and forth like a giant cat toy as the jaguar continued to bat at it, and risked a second look at the pool. It wasn't an actual face, but appeared to be some kind of mask made out of turquoise and gold. There were other treasures covering the bottom of the pool.

The water was so crystal clear that Buffy couldn't judge the depth by sight alone. She carefully eased into the water, feeling with her left foot for the bottom of the pool while keeping her right foot and leg wrapped around the rope. She breathed a sigh of relief when she discovered that the water was less than five feet deep. Her feet touched the solid floor of the well and she stood quietly in water up to her chin. She hoped the cold spring water would wash away her scent, and the lack of movement on the rope would cause the jaguars to lose interest in her and go on about their business.

Buffy studied the treasures in the bottom of the pool. She occasionally dove under the water to pick something up to look at it more closely. This wasn't a sort of garbage dump for broken or unusable things as she'd first thought. She discovered hammered flat-ish ovals that looked like platters or dinner plates, except they were made out of gold. There was a necklace of black pearls that seemed to draw in the light and glow with an opalescent sheen, and an armband that she couldn't resist slipping on. It nestled snugly around her bicep as if it had been made for her, and wearing it made her feel like Xena. She regretfully pulled the armband off and looked closely at it. The gold was set with a large, dark-red stone carved with the face of a snarling jaguar. Buffy wished she could keep it, but the last thing she needed right now was to piss off some old god, whose offerings this stuff obviously was. If she had any hope of getting back home, she'd need all the good luck she could get, and she wasn't about to make enemies of the local deities. She let the armband slip from her fingers to slowly sink to the bottom of the pool.

The cold water had initially felt wonderful as it cooled off Buffy's hot, sweaty body, but now her legs and feet were starting to feel numb. Buffy moved her legs under the water in jumping jack motions and swirled her arms in circular movements. The feeling came back to her extremities, but she also heard sloshing noises off to the left. She stood still and the noises stopped. She kicked her legs and they started again. Buffy dove underwater and shone the light on the eastern wall. The water flowed through a tunnel there. Buffy surfaced and thought about that. Of course, there'd have to be some sort of drainage for the pool; otherwise the feed from the cold spring would simply cause the water to rise until it reached the top and overflowed. She submerged and felt the edges of the opening to the tunnel. She was pretty sure it was man-made. Even though the movement of the water had smoothed out and worn away any rough edges, she could still discern what looked like chisel marks.

The opening was much too small for most people of today to fit through. Buffy figured the ancient people who made this tunnel had been much smaller and slighter than the average modern person. And yet . . . the warrior's armband had fit her perfectly. Buffy felt a gleam of excitement. These people, whoever they were, must have been about her size. And if they could get through the tunnel, she could, too.

She surfaced again to think about it. The tunnel couldn't be completely under water for very long, or she wouldn't have been able to hear the sloshing sounds. Those sounds could only have been caused by the backwash of the waves she'd made, in a place where there was air and space above the water. That meant the tunnel must open up somewhere not very far from where she now stood. She kicked her feet underwater again and listened carefully, counting off the seconds. It couldn't be farther away than the length of an Olympic-sized swimming pool. She could swim that far under water—she was sure of it. It would be dangerous, sure, and maybe the boredom and terrible aloneness of the past week were clouding her judgment, but . . . what the hell. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Diving unprepared into an underwater tunnel she could just manage to fit through, with no idea of what she'd find at the other end and no guarantee there'd actually be an other end, was no more crazy or dangerous than agreeing to be sent back through time to pick up some extinct snakes and bring them back to the future! And it's not like she had anything better to do. She had absolutely no desire to spend the next fifty years or so living in a tiny cave in a mound with no clue about what to eat when her MREs ran out and only two ferocious jaguars for company.

She'd decided to make this trip in the first place because she wanted some adventure in her boring life with Mrs. Post, and what could be more adventurous than treasure troves and secret passages? What did she have to lose? It's not like she had anyone who really cared about her back in her own time. Mrs. Post had even suggested that she kill herself if she couldn't make it back, so that a new Slayer could be called. Not that she had any plans to kill herself.

Buffy touched the scar on her lip as she thought. The cocky vamp asshole who'd given her the scar had said every slayer has a death wish, but he was wrong. Death wish my ass! Buffy thought angrily. He can 'bloody well' go dance with himself!

She didn't want to die; she wanted to live. And living was more than just existing. It was more than survival—just meeting your needs for food and shelter—and more than doing your job and going home to an empty apartment. It was encouraging this sense of excitement and curiosity that made her want to know what wonders were at the end of the tunnel.

Buffy threw back her head and laughed. Feelings of joy and excitement and fear and anticipation seemed to bubble through her veins. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. She took a second, even deeper breath, and let it out, too. She took a third breath and dove.


 

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Continue to  Chapter Four

 

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