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Dianna Wears Red - Secundus

Second Test

Its nine forty five and I'm stalking out the library, head down, staring at my feet to make sure I don't accidentally make eye contact with anyone. I'm intent on getting to my dorm as fast as I can; I need to take a shower.  Beside me Buffy is skipping around and around me as I walk.

Her hair flouncing around gaily, this big grin is on her very flushed face; even in the fresh air and light breeze I can smell it…which is why I really need to take a shower. She's also getting annoying. Halfway to the dorm she starts humming a light and jaunty tune and that's about all I can handle.

"Buffy," I hiss at her. "Could you possibly be less of a spectacle?"

She freezes in mid skip and stares at me a second silently. "Uh…Will, what did I…?"

I shake my head slightly and don't let myself sigh out loud. "Nothing, Buffy, forget it."

I start walking even faster, not sure how much time I have left; one of these days I really should buy a watch. 

"Well, showers are good," Buffy says hurrying to catch up to me. "Lots to do in showers."

"Yes," I reply nodding but still staring at my feet. "Like using soap, and maybe shampoo."

"Skin gets slippery with soap," Buffy …almost purrs.

"Enough!" I say sharply spinning to face her.

She stops cold at my shout, rocking back on her feet. "Wha?"

"I mean enough," I say more quietly now. Don't want to draw any more attention. "It's enough okay? Enough innuendo enough double meaning, enough games!"  

"But…but…" Buffy stammers. "I thought you liked it."

"I did.' I say with a sigh. "I loved it."

Buffy's eyebrows knit. "Then what's the problem Will?"

 I gape at her, she honestly didn't know? "You didn't ask. You just did it," I say quietly.

"You liked it!" She whines.

"Yes,' I nod. "Yes I did. I loved it, I love you."

"You're..." Buffy's eyes grow wide. "I did NOT force you!" she snarls.

"No, no, no." I say quickly. "No you didn't." she visibly relaxes, letting her shoulders slump.

'But you didn't ask me either," I finish. She tenses up instantly. I reach out for her hand but she pulls away. "We had fun!" she insists in a frustrated voice.

"Your fun," I whisper.

"But I love you!" She insists.

 "And I love you, Buffy," I reply. "That will never change. It's just...you didn't listen!"

Buffy shakes her head, like she's shaking off an irritant. "We had fun," she repeats backing away.

"I said no..." I can't look at her for a second and when I do the expression on her face makes think about what I just said.  What I implied.

"Buffy,?" I ask softly.  

"Buffy?" I repeat starting to stand up and that's all I have time for. She spins and dashes off, a blur of speed. 

***

I pause standing before the doors of the huge hardware store in front of me.

Honestly why did I leave my woods?

'Because,' that smart mouthed part of my mind informs me. 'The Council told you to and they have you over a barrel. Some mighty hunter you are!'

"Oh shut up," I grumble.

Around me people scuttle in and out of its doors like woodland creatures fleeing from or plunging into the maw of a great beast. The neon lights all over its glass facade remind me of eyes in the dark; the steel, plastic and glass, shining with the look of modern technology seems too proud, too overbearing. I feel truly unwelcome here which balances out I suppose. Those who made such a monstrosity would be most unwelcome in my home.

I take in a deep breath and hold it before approaching the electronic eye. The doors slide open with a hiss and the dry, cool air spills past me. I let the breath out of my lungs and shudder. The sterile, scentless air leaves me feeling queasy. I can't decide what's worse the polluted, foul stench outside or this total void of any scents whatsoever inside. I shake my head slightly and start looking for the electronics department.

The clerk behind the counter looks to be a high schooler, if that. Short brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, eyes flickering around her, putting off 'I'm so bored' vibed; yes, she's even chewing bubblegum loudly while sitting slouched behind the glass countertop . She notices as I approach and sits a bit straighter then she gets a good look at me and does a double take. I don't smile; I can't help it that I'm tall. When I get near her I sniff just a little. Even though it's not real and chemically produced the smell of her clean hair and skin is like a blessing in this place. I fight down the shiver that threatens to run along my spine.

I glance at her nametag, Gail, pretty name. She's not too bad looking. I can tell by her build she likes to run. She cranes her neck to maintain eye contact with me.

"Can I help you?" she says quietly.

I smile down at her, no teeth though. I lay my hands on the glass top just centimeters from her own finger tips; I can feel the heat from her skin. "Yes you can," I pause. "Gail."

Most people would be slightly annoyed if a stranger addressed them like old friends but Gail only flushes slightly.

"What can I do for you then...uh...." she fumbles looking for the label to use on me. I just put a finger across my lips. "Shhhh." I shush her gently. "Gail, I have a rather long list of products I need and you seem a capable young lady. Just the person to help me."

Gail doesn't move as I lean over the counter and stare down into her wide, upturned eyes.

"Uh..." she swallows convulsively never taking her eyes away from me." I think so," she says softly. "Do you have the list on you, I could check the back to see if we have everything you might want in stock."

I reach forward and only just brush my fingertips along her ear, then, with my hand still extended I snap my fingers and the list appears in my fingers like magic. "Here you are," I say gently laying it on the countertop.

With my other hand I reach down slowly and take one of her hands that have been resting on the countertop. Lifting her hand with mine I place the list in her slack, unresisting hand and curl her fingers around it.

"That's everything I need, Gail." My face is now mere centimeters from her own. The tips of our noses almost brushing. "Go and check the back, take your time," I smile showing my teeth. "Be thorough. I can wait."

***

Buffy wasn't in our room when I took the quick shower after the...stuff...at the Library. She wasn't as the classes we shared this morning either.

Now I'm sitting here in the quad, alone with my bought lunch before me. I sit at my bench and watch the hot steam rising off the burger and fries, the ice cubes in my coke clink gently as they melt but there is room in my tummy for appetite. It’s all full of cold scrunchy feelings and empty places that food can't fill.

Will someone explain to me how one tummy can be all these things at the same time but not want food? Why doesn't it want to be filled up with yummy if not exactly nutritious fast food goodness?  No. Don't answer that, I know it already. It wants to...the hole in my stomach wants to be filled with fuzzies. That little trill I get when Buffy smiles at me because of something I said, or accidentally said or said wrong. It wants ...I want to feel that warmth when for no reason at all Buffy grabs my hands in her own and squeezes or when she caresses my cheek gently her hand. We can be anywhere, alone or not, sitting or not and she'll just stop what she's doing if she's doing anything and cup my face in her hands, staring me in the eyes with such intensity. Then she'll gently let me go and just barely touch my face with her fingertips, dragging this halfway contact up the curve of my cheek and behind my ear before pulling away. Then she'll just smile one of those brilliant smiles at me and return to whatever it was she was doing before.

I'd give anything if I turned around and she'd be standing in front of me, looking down at me then cup my face in her hands. I'd give anything at all.

I know she's not behind me, I know she's not there; that if she was I'd know by now but I turn around anyway with my heart leaping expectantly. She's not of course and all I do see is some other students hurrying to a nearby bench to wolf down their food before getting back on the academic trail. I should feel disappointed, the acid in my cold empty tummy shouldn't leap about and burn me; I shouldn't become even more depressed because I knew the entire time she wasn't there.

But it does.

I stand up, grab my tray and toss the whole thing, tray included, into the nearest trashcan. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder I start to walk to where I always go when I need to get away, the library.

After a half step I stop. I can't go back there. Not like this it...it just doesn't work. It wouldn't be right. I've got ...I glance at the clock on the tower, about twenty five minutes until my next class. I'm going to do something, I'm going to be proactive for a change and not just wait for things to happen. I'm going to find Buffy.

I think about heading back to our dorm first but that's too obvious, as I'm walking aimlessly I pass a phone booth. Hmmm, maybe Buffy went home. Nah, that would mean she'd have to explain to her Mom why she's home when she should be in class. Okay...well maybe she got hungry. She wasn't in the quad but she could be in the cafeteria.

I arrive there quickly and push the double doors open. Instantly I'm bombarded by the sounds of hundreds of young people talking at once. All the tables are packed and I have trouble pushing through the mass. I scan the room quickly but can't see Buffy anywhere. I'm pretty sure she'd stand out a bit, particularly at these crowded tables since she'd be all alone yet sitting near others. I walk from one end to the other, brushing by people trying to squeeze past me anxiously checking the faces of all the people sitting at the tables. I don't see her anywhere.

'Okay,' I think to myself. 'Maybe the bathroom.'

I enter the woman’s restroom and try to be casual as I look around the place. There are a couple girls standing in front of the mirrors, checking their makeup or their hair. Whatever.  Just to fit in I step up to a sink and let the water run over my hands then splash a little on my face. A tiny part of me is cringing in my mind, expecting any of these other girls to maybe start something. Maybe they were their at the quad a few days ago when Buffy and I kissed in public. Nobody does though and since I'm not going to hang around until everyone who might be in them comes out of the stalls I leave.

So Buffy isn't in the cafeteria, won't check the Library....not at home either.

My classes start soon but....

I sit down on the nearest bench and let put my head in my hands. If she's not on campus I don't know what I'm going to do.

***

There.

Everything's done.

There's a good chance she'll come from that direction. It's closest to the college and the treeline runs right along the edge of the cemetery. I know for a fact that she likes to stay in the trees. Tactically it makes sense to a point but her obsession with it puts it under the instinct category in my book; and in my job it's instincts that help me more than they do my prey.

Most of the time.

I settle back on my haunches and let my weight rest on the wall of the mausoleum I'm hiding behind. I reach in my bag o'tricks and pull out the linchpin. This better do the job because the 'net' behind me will only slow her down for a few seconds. If this final punch fails I'm in big trouble.

I glance at the sun which is rapidly sinking below the horizon; shouldn't be too much longer now; though I think I'll check the 'net' again, just to be sure all the contacts are in place. I ease around the corner and climb the tree where the trigger for the 'net' is. Flipping over the trigger I make sure both contacts are surely fashioned and they're not going to tear free at the worst possible moment. Nope, looks good to me.

I leap down from the tree. I roll with the impact and come up standing. "Ta-dah!" I say to no one. "A perfect dismount. Judges score: Nine, nine point five, nine point three," I'm interrupted by a vampire stepping out from behind the shadow of another tree. "And a six from the Romanian Judge." I say. My arm comes up, the mini-crossbow on my wrist triggers, and the vamp falls down. "Poor Romanian judge," I cluck my tongue.

The sun has set at last. I move through the bushes and the weeds, past forgotten and hopefully peaceful graves to the other parts of the 'net'. I check each and every piece. All seems well enough. I can't activate it too early or too late though because if something else should trigger it my prey will know about it a long way off and I'd have to start all over.

Hmmm...or it could draw her closer. But I don't have a trap within a trap. If I could use my dart gun I might have a chance but all I have is this thing. I pat the heavy medal rod strapped to my side; were the Slayer fully functional this would be as good as a ...well my fists. I move back to my place behind the mausoleum. Bending over I grab some handfuls of earth and dirt and grind them into my skin. I am particularly careful to really dirty the areas behind my ears and in my arm pit; this should make it more difficult for her to smell me out. Crumbling the last of the earth into the palms of my hand I slip on the heavy work gloves I brought with me.

The moon is rising now, I can see its white light flicking through the trees on the horizon. Now is as good a time as any I suppose. I activate the 'net'.

Now all there is to do is wait.

***

I couldn’t find her.

Not anywhere.

I spent the entire afternoon looking for her. Blew off my classes(Can't believe I did that.) and checked out all of hers. Not fun spending an afternoon having grouchy professors glaring at you or asking questions like, 'Who are you young lady and why are you interrupting my class?'.  What am I supposed to say?

'Jee, sorry Mr. Professor sir, but my lesbian lover has run off because we got in a small argument after having sex in the library. I'm worried she's turning a little to animalistic for my tastes.'

Yeah, I'm sure that'd go over real well.

I'm tired, I've missed my classes, the strap on my book bag has dug what I think is a permanent trench in my shoulder, I'm hungry and my feet hurt.

This is all Buffy's fault.

God, I miss her so much!

The sun is beginning to set and I've looked everywhere. She could be at home, the thought has been dancing around all day in my head but it would be so not like her to rush home to get away. Maybe she came home by now; I can at least check. It's not like I've got anywhere else to look save the woods. Walking quickly it takes me about ten minutes to reach the entrance to our Hall. The entire way I can't help but peek in the shadows of bushes or up through the rapidly darkening canopies of trees...just in case.

I reach the front doors and push them open. I pause. Look over my shoulder one last time and see the last of the sun slip away. Night officially starts now; time to go inside.

I climb the stairs to the second floor slowly, I try and get a good look at all the long haired, blonde, women sitting on the various sofas and love seats...I know she's not here...what else can I do?

I insert my key in the lock... it isn't latched. My heart skips a beat, I can feel a grin pulling at the corners of my mouth.

"Buffy?" I push the door open and-

Behind her bed the window is open, a strong breeze pushes the curtains inside the room, they billow and twist. On her bed lay her clothes, the gusts of wind are not strong enough to move them but the corners rustle and flutter a bit.

I silently close the door and turn off the lights.

Walking over to the clothes I lightly brush my fingertips across the surface of her shirt. "You even folded them," I say aloud.

I take off my clothes and slip into my favorite sleeping shirt and clean panties then I clamber onto Buffy's bed. I pick up the shirt she was wearing, hold it up to my face and inhale. It smells just like her. Caught in its fibers are her gentle, clean scents,  soft and...strong. Just like she's strong and soft. Pulling her shirt over me as a make shift blanket I lie down and stare out the open window, at the moon.

Now all there is to do is wait.

***

She's coming.

First I hear her,

Then I smell her,

Finally I see her.

She's not even trying to be stealthy.

How careless.

How disappointing.

She leaps from a branch within the woods to the one nearest the edge of the cemetery. Just as she reaches for a branch in mid air she triggers the 'net'. Passing by the motion detectors she triggers about three different strobe lights that flare directly in her face. With a screech she freezes in mid air. Squawking in fear and panic she claws at nothing heading for the ground far too fast.  At the same time six different speakers kick in screaming white noise from different directions. One above, another in front of her, another behind and one to either side. There should be one below her but...ouch. She just landed on it. Other strobes kick in adding to the disorientation and confusion as the sound bombardment coupled with the visual attack throws her enhanced senses off kilter.

That's how you hunt. Take the gifts of the prey and use them against it.

Covering her face with her forearms she flounders on the hard earth like a fish out of water. Her back arching and feet kicking in the dust. Jesus! She's going into spasms, she's not faking, this isn't a ploy to lure her attacker out she's in trouble! I leap to my feet and race from my place of concealment. Ripping the Velcro tabs that keep the stun wand strapped to my leg I whip it out to full extension. I try and grab her shoulder and flip her over. I want  place the charge directly on her spine, anything less might just snap her out of it; also best chance of knocking her out. Right up the nervous system, zap.

Her flailing arm nearly takes my head off.

I pull back just out of time. The cacophony is deafening. Good thing I wore earplugs and goggles.

I leap forward again, make the grab and flip her over. I pin her to the ground with one knee across her  lower back; my other foot I shove into the backs of her knee.   Realistically she could throw me off without any effort but she's too busy trying not to choke to death on her own tongue. I bend over and grab her by the hair, pulling her hear head back. This is uncomfortable I bet however  it clears her airway, makes sure she doesn't choke. I whip the stun wand around and jam the live end directly against the skin over her spin, leaning into I push the tip hard and release the charge.

All her muscles tense and she trembles violently as the charge short circutes the voluntary muscle control in her brain. Then she slumps, relaxed and quite unconscious. I disable the net with the remote and take a few deep breaths. My left knee is shaking a bit. Heh, adrenaline.

'Well," I say to the now captured prey. "That was fun."

I nudge her gently in the calf with the toe of my boot. She doesn't budge. Bending over her slightly I take off my gloves and press two fingers to the pulse in her neck and count off the beats. Seems okay; which is good as I don't want to her permanently. My instructions were clear.

I grab her arms and legs and sling her over my shoulder, oof...for such a small thing she's compact as hell. Well I guess an light n' bouncy hoity toity type wouldn't make a good slayer. Or a long lasting one at any rate.

I carry her behind the mausoleum where the rest of my stores are and lay her on the ground. She rolls over and lands face up, there's a muffled grunt as she hits the ground and pale moonlight splashes across her skin. Asleep she doesn't look like a threat. Long hair spread out, soft lips...as I watch her they twitch a little bit as if she's smiling in her dreams.

"Poor kid," I shake my head slightly. "Fate sure is a messed up bitch."

I grab a blanket from my bag and lay it flat on the ground. Picking up The Slayer again I lay her on one edge and then just roll her across the blanket, it along with her until she's cocooned within; snug as a bug in a rug. My Mom used to tell that to me before she tucked me in at night.

I miss her.

"Regrettably kid," I say patting the now bundled Slayer. "While you're snug you're not safe. Sorry 'bout that."

Bending over I hoist her over my shoulders again and carry her off to the rendezvous.

***

It takes me about three quarters of an hour to reach the location where I'm to deliver The Slayer. Predictably The Council has taken refuge in an old warehouse on the southern edge of Sunnydale.

I walk up to the heavy metal gate sealing the building off and give a few swift kicks. The hollow boom of my boots impacting on rusty sheet metal echo through the darkness. After a few seconds rusty wheels begin to protest and their use and the large garage door beings to rise, loudly. Jeezus, why don't these bozos just hang a big sign out reading 'Clandestine Temporary HQ Of Bad Guys Here'?

Nah...too wordy.

Ugly yellow light spills out onto the street, bending over I enter the warehouse before the door is high enough to walk through. I'm careful not to bang the prey on the edge of the door. Several large, darkly dressed and generally unhappy looking men stand on either side of the entrance. They stare with heavy scowls on their faces as if they disapprove of me, which, come to think of it, they probably do.

I walk past them, dim lights way up in the ceiling far overhead cast pools of murky light separated by large areas of shadow.

"Ah, if it isn't our beloved Hunter." The Council's contact steps out of one of the darker pools. Oh hooray, it's my little friend from the resteraunt.  I'm surprised he wasn't oozing out from under a rock. "Missions successful I trust?"

"No, I'm just lugging The Slayer around for fun," I reply motioning to the burden across my shoulder with my free hand.

"A blanket?" He seems surprised. "How quaint, you protected her modesty, for the moment. Was she difficult to capture?"

I roll my eyes at his false genteelism. "No, s'why you hired me though isn't it."

Fatty chuckles slightly, "Not hired, called in a favor more like."

I shrug and place the prey on the ground and give the rolled up cloth a gentle push. The carpate unrolls spilling her across the cement floor, her limbs flop about as she tumbles, her arms and legs hitting the ground with gentle smacks.. "Well favors done, I'm outta here."

He stares down at her for a few seconds, shaking his head and clucking his tongue in disapproval. "She is not bound, that was careless."

I hawk deeply and spit on his polished shoes, behind me I hear feet sliding across the pavement as his goons take positions. "It was a choice," I say conversationally. "Sorta like hawking a goober on your shoes. Now you have a choice. You can either call off your dogs," I jerk a thumb over my shoulder, "Or you can watch them die."

He stares at me for a few seconds before breaks into a huge smile. He claps his hands together softly. "Bravo," he says. "Marvelous. I believe I understand. My apologies for questioning your skills, I meant no offense."

I smile at him as if all is well, damnit I was sure he'd go for it and I could kill him. The fact that this pus filled boil lives is a constant itch in my brain. "Well, I can't say it was a swell time because it wasn't." I say with a wave. "Don't get up, I'll see myself out."

I'm almost to the door and half believing I've actually made it out but then, like clockwork....

"Actually," short, squat and ugly, calls after me. "Our deal is not quite concluded."

I close my eyes, clench my fists and count to ten...backwards...in Hindu. Doesn't help.

"Yes?" I say gently trying not to grind my teeth.

"I'm afraid we have need of your services just a tiny bit longer," he says. "After all what better addition to our security could we have than the one who captured her in the first place?"

I try not to laugh as I walk back to him. "Buddy," I say maintaining a straight face. "If she busts out I'll be about as helpful as a Kleenex is in the middle of typhoon."

He laughs slowly and spreads his hands wide. "Indulge me," he says quietly.

He takes my silence as an asquesiance. "Would you be so kind as to place The Slayer in her quarters for the duration of her stay?" He says to me.

"What's wrong," I sneer. "All your pretty boys worried about the big bad Slayer?"

"And well they should be," He purrs.

Okay, point for him. "Yeah, you're right." I shrug. "Guess they're not as dumb as you look."

He only smiles. Damn these British types! What does it take to get a reaction out of them?

I bend over and pick the Slayer back up, this is getting repetitive. "This way please," Fatty says gesturing into the back of the warehouse. "Into the dark," I mumble to myself.

"Pardon?" He looks at me with polite interest.

I just shake my head.

I follow him into the back and find myself staring at a small ...room I guess built in the middle of the warehouse. It appears to be about twelve feet by twelve feet made out of solid steel plate. There's only one door and five separate heavy bolts, each with their own lock, holding it shut. My 'host' fishes into the breast pocked of his suit and takes out a small ring of keys, five different keys I note. Unlocking each bolt he throws the door open and harsh white light spills out of the doorway. The inside is incredibly bright. Stepping through the doorway I take in the interior. What there is of it. It's bare, completely empty of anything save for one steel table bolted to the floor and in the middle of the table lies a large box; oh and a small drain drilled in the far corner. I suppose that's their idea of 'sanitary'.

"Do not touch the box please," Fatty says from behind me. "Just place The Slayer on the ground, gently now. We wouldn't want to bruise her would we?"

'No,' I think to myself. 'But we'd just love to bruise you, maybe bounce you off a few walls too.'

I set The Slayer down on the cold steel floor and start to turn away.

"Ah, ah, ah,"The contact shakes his head, "Everything she needs is within these four walls and I myself am outside. Together we shall guide her out of her troubles."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I ask.

"It means do not leave the blanket in there with her," he replies pointing behind me.

I stare at him hard for a few seconds but he doesn't budge. He's got guts, someday I'll show them to him.

Without a word I bend down and snatch the blanket from off The Slayer  I don't say anything while I'm doing it as I'm trying very hard to suppress my gag reflex.

I step through the doorway and take one look back at the small blond girl that everyone is so interested in.

"Willow?" She says still deeply unconscious. "stop...stop all that hoggin' o'the coverz, I'm gettin' cold."

The heavy steel door swings shut with a clang.

END-Dianna Wears Red: Secundus-Second Test