Buffybot's Birthday Adventure
RATING: PG-13 for sex.
FEEDBACK: Yes, please, to [email protected]
PAIRINGS: None.
DISTRIBUTION: Ask me first - but I'm going to say yes.
PROPS: Miss Murchison and Chartophile for the beta. Thanks!
SPOILERS: None. This is set pre-season 6.
DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine, but I’m just poking fun.
Chapter 19 - Blotting Out The Sky
Dawn screamed and fell backwards, just as Acathla reached out from the bank as far as he could, and rammed his fist into the crocodile's open mouth. The crocodile's jaws closed on his hand with a vengeful, awful snap, his eyes closed and he dived, dragging Acathla with him. Except that Acathla did not come. His feet had already sunk many inches deep in the soft mud of the river bank, and he stood rooted to the spot, crocodile hanging from his wrist. With a great roar, he smashed his free left hand down on the crocodile's skull, stunning it, and then whipped the whole animal ashore with his arm still imprisoned in its jaws.
Dawn lay panting on the river bank, smothered in black mud. She lifted her head, saw the enormous crocodile lying on its back, jaws still clenched around Acathla's hand, and moaned. When nothing happened she raised her head again. Acathla was crawling up the crocodile's body, inch by inch, dragging his feet out of the imprisoning mud. Finally, with a great squelch, he was free. He rolled over beside her on the mud.
"I see you have your sandal, princess."
Dawn looked down at her filthy mud-caked hands. Sure enough, clasped convulsively in each fist were her two golden sandals.
"Good," she said vaguely. She staggered to her feet, strung the sandals together by their straps, and hung them around her neck. She looked down at Acathla, who still lay on the bank, arm disappearing into the unconscious crocodile's mouth. "Are you planning to wear that crocodile for a bracelet?"
Acathla drew a deep breath. "I was hoping that perhaps my princess would have some idea for releasing me," he said pointedly, “since I am her loyal servant." He shut his eyes briefly. "The creature appears to have me in a death grip, worshipful one. And if I stand up on this surface, I will undoubtedly start sinking again."
Dawn eyed him doubtfully. "Well, I guess you could belly crawl back to dry ground, dragging the crocodile. And then maybe we could use a crowbar or something." She looked around. "Pity Buffybot isn't here. She'd get it off."
Acathla raised long suffering eyes to the sky. He had served some crueller mistresses in his long past, but never such a clueless one. He belly crawled, as suggested, to higher ground, ploughing a huge demon sized furrow in the mud as he did so, with a second, more wiggling furrow marking the progress of the enormous crocodile. Then he had dragged himself to his feet, using a nearby tree trunk, and proceeded to batter the crocodile against the tree, in a vain attempt to dislodge it. Dawn hovered around making unhelpful suggestions, emitting 'eew' sounds as the crocodile's skull squelched against the tree, and generally driving him spare.
................
Giles, Tempestra and Arturo stood in a circle, hands clasped. He looked at his companions as they spoke in unison the words of an ancient and powerful summoning spell. Tempestra still glowed from within with a terrible red light, and steam roiled off her shoulders, but her hands were cool enough to hold, and her breath, which he could just feel on his cheek, was hot but not scorching. Arturo glowed also, but in silver sparkles, as mage light flickered about him, and earthed itself in his wand. Giles wondered for a moment how he would look to an outsider. Grubby, probably, he thought ruefully, and in serious need of some cleaning solution for my glasses. He pulled his attention back to the circle again as the recitation came to an end, and Tempestra and Arturo looked up and smiled.
"Got her!" cried Arturo triumphantly. "She is being dragged through the sky towards us at this very minute, will she or not."
"Well then," said Tempestra, "let us go and meet her." And they set off down the path, hand in hand, Giles trailing behind as an awkward third.
...............
The tow truck was eating up the miles, bouncing along the bumps and potholes of the track at an incredible teeth loosening speed. Willow, Tara, and Anya were crushed together in the passenger seat, with Buffybot still clinging firmly on to the cab roof, acting as lookout. Tara clung on grimly to Willow, who sat in her lap, hands curved around her seeking spell. Anya had wedged her spear under the dashboard, and was holding it in a two-handed death grip.
"We're getting closer!" cried Willow. Spike bared his teeth, and accelerated.
"Wait, she's .... what is she doing? Dammit! She's turned round. She's going back the way she came." Willow made a sweeping gesture. "Turn round! Turn round! She's going thataway!" She pointed directly behind her.
The tow truck careened into a 'U' turn, throwing up a spray of mud and leaves, and roared down the track, back the way it had come.
...............
Acathla stopped beating the crocodile against the tree trunk. He was immensely strong, and almost inexhaustible, but the treatment was clearly having little effect. And anyway, he was feeling more than a little ridiculous.
"Eeeeeeeeeeee!!" There was a terrible screech behind him. He groaned, and pressed his forehead against the tree trunk; he wished Dawn would stop doing that, it went right through him. He turned to see what it was this time - and found himself face to face with a descending harpy, claws outstretched. The harpy's massive cruel talons flexed, releasing the little dog dangling there, and pointed straight for Acathla's eyes. Xander-dog tumbled headlong into the river, and as Dawn ran over and grabbed for him in vain, he was swept out into the current and away.
Acathla's jaws widened in a savage grin. At last! Something he could hit. He swung the crocodile around, in a great 30 foot long arc, and batted the harpy out of the sky with an ugly sounding 'thwack'. The force of the swing finally released the crocodile's jaws from his wrist, and crocodile and harpy flew through the sky in a hail of feathers, into the jungle, from where there was a thud, and a muffled scream.
................
Xander-dog swept down the river, doggy paddling frantically. After the terror of being caught up in the harpy's claws, and the bowel-loosening conviction that he was about to be eaten, the river should have come as a pleasant change. But the water was turbulent and fast, and he hadn't forgotten the crocodiles. He paddled madly for shore, and after a timeless period of swimming, and sinking, and spitting out river water, he finally spied a little beach ahead of him where the bank had crumbled away into the water. He dragged himself ashore, and collapsed exhausted in the mud. Safe at last. Then he raised his shaggy little head, and his ears pricked forward. What was that noise? The ground began to shake under him, and in the distance crashing trees fell with a sound like pistol shots. He groaned, and staggered to his paws. He'd heard that sound before.
....................
Giles scrambled to his feet, trying to work out what had happened. Had he really been hit by a giant flying crocodile? Or was that memory just a side effect of what he expertly diagnosed as another concussion? No, there it was, lying on its back, giant pale belly upward, legs waving in the air. Speaking of legs ... he gasped. Two large womanly feet were sticking out from under the crocodile, toes pointing upwards, and glowing faintly red. Tempestra! He ran across to the prone creature, and tried to roll it away. The crocodile's dead weight did not even stir. He banged on it with his fists in frustration.
..................
The truck sped along the jungle track. Spike was at the wheel, eyes agleam. The truck's headlights threw two great beams of light into the inky blackness below the forest canopy, casting crazy shadows in every direction, and terrifying roosting birds and bats, which scattered in every direction. Willow's spell light gleamed in the palm of her hand, and she occasionally muttered a direction to Spike, pointing a little this way, or that.
Xander-dog charged through the forest, eyes bulging and tongue lolling. The dinosaur crashed along behind him. He threw a terrified glance behind him. He couldn't keep this up much longer. His lungs were bursting, and his paws were bloody and sore. He raced out on to the forest track - into the path of the oncoming tow truck. He yelped, and darted to one side, as the driver cursed, and wrenched the steering wheel to one side. The truck veered past him, missing by inches, and a small tanned arm reached out, and plucked him up by his collar and tossed him in through the open window of the cab. He landed on Willow and Tara in the passenger seat of the truck, claws scrabbling desperately for purchase.
"Now that's driving!" It was Spike, sitting at the wheel, accelerator still floored, and a pleased expression on his face. "I don't think our librarian boy racer could have done than that, somehow." He tapped his own chest. "Reflexes like lightning, I've got." He vroomed around another corner at speed, making the truck tilt.
"Hi Xander!" Willow and Tara petted him, and he wiggled.
"Hi Xander!" It was Buffybot, grinning at him upside down from the roof of the cab.
"Thank you, thank you," yelped Xander-dog. He turned to Spike, "And you didn't run me over! Thank you!" He got up on his hind paws, and placed his front feet on Spike's chest, and proceeded to lick him, thoroughly.
"Aargh!" cried Spike, and the truck spun wildly to one side, throwing everyone violently about.
A hand reached out, and grabbed Xander-dog by the collar, and jerked him back.
"Oh God," moaned Spike, "now I've been slobbered on by Xander Harris!"
"Well don't kid yourself it will happen again, dead boy!" It was Anya glaring at him, with Xander-dog now snuggled in her lap. "Xander is my boyfriend, so keep your evil undead hands off him."
"I never touched him!" yelled Spike, infuriated. "He latched on to me with those scrabbly little paws of his, and stuck his tongue up my bloody nose!" He wiped his face ineffectually and scowled at Anya. "I've got dog slobber everywhere."
""Spike! Look out!" It was Buffybot, on the roof.
Spike looked up. "Oh bloody hell!" And then the truck ploughed into the jungle, struck a huge fallen tree concealed in a mass of lianas in a shattering percussion of rending metal and breaking glass, and crashed to a halt, engine steaming.
The dinosaur's head turned, attracted by the noise, and he ponderously moved himself in a new direction, sweeping several trees away with his tail as he did so, heading for the site of the crash.
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