Quickened
by P.H. Wise
A Buffy crossover fanfic
Interlude: Buffy
Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy. I don’t own Angel. I don’t own Highlander. Please don’t sue me. I’m only a poor starving writer. I have no money.
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In the cavern beneath the wine cellar of the Shadow Valley Vineyard, Buffy stared in awe. There it was, right in front of her, embedded in solid granite. A hybrid weapon: part axe, part scythe, part stake, and with a sheer badass factor that would make even the Terminator think twice before messing with its wielder. She grasped the handle, and in that moment, she knew that it was HERS.
Duncan had once told her that she needed to make her sword a part of her. Despite all her training in swordplay, she had never been able to do that with her rapier. First used by a virtuous Knight to stop Acathla from destroying the world. Then used by Angelus in his final battle with the Slayer. Then used by the Slayer as a fledgling Immortal. Now, it would hang in the weapons cabinet, unused unless it be on an irregular basis by one of the other Scoobies. Buffy had often wondered why she’d never been able to feel that kind of connection to her old weapon. Now, with the Scythe in her hands, she knew why.
She smiled.
She didn’t have time to continue with the admiring of the Scythe. The trapdoor slammed open, and Caleb came walking down the stairs, almost casually.
“So, you found it,” he said. “Not impressed. ‘Cause the question now, girly-girl, is can you pry it from solid rock before I come over there and-“
There was a flash, and suddenly, everything was different.
Caleb was gone. Buffy stood before... Buffy? The other Buffy’s eyes were as black as midnight, and she held the Scythe.
Buffy stared at her double.
“From within you,” the black-eyed Buffy intoned, “It devours.”
Buffy raised a very nonplused eyebrow. “Look, this is getting a little old. I get it. You’ve already made this perfectly clear. You’re the First. You’re EVIL, with a capital E. Now can I get back to thrashing your minion, or did you want to throw a few ineffectual taunts my way first?”
The black-eyed Buffy shook her head. “You don’t understand. Not the First.” She smiled wickedly, and for a moment, Buffy saw an ancient city in ruins, with vast tendrils of energy stretched across it, pulsing and writhing grotesquely as they absorbed the souls of every living thing they touched. “Me.”
Another flash. The other Buffy vanished, and the Slayer found herself with her hands around the Scythe’s handle, which was yet embedded in the rock. Caleb’s words hung heavily in the air.
Buffy casually lifted the Scythe out of the granite with no visible effort whatsoever. Hefting the weapon, she turned towards Caleb, who stopped in his tracks, a look of uncertainty and fear playing across his face.
“... Darn...”
END
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Very short, I know, but necessary. This is going to be the final interlude. I’ve decided to cut Duncan’s interlude, and to simply move on to the next story arc from here. The interludes have served their purpose, and to write another one when I really don’t think another one is needed would be counter-productive.
