Chapter Six
Buffy narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I was waiting for you to wake up.”
“If I ask you why, you’ll say something lame about needing a date to the prom, right?” Buffy stepped forward, and put her arm around the man’s neck, locking him into a chokehold. “So, I’m just gonna do this. Now talk. Why are you here?”
“Arghhle-”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Can you not speak?” The man wriggled, trying to break free, and Buffy sighed. “Fine. But if I let you go, you’re going to tell me exactly what’s going on here.” Buffy pulled her arm back, and the man took several steps away from her, rubbing his neck. “And if you don’t explain, well… you know—” She raised her eyebrow.
“Ribcage. Hat. Got it.”
“Start talking.”
***
Buffy tucked her knees up under her chin, and stared at her visitor with narrowed eyes. To say she had been shocked when she’d opened her eyes to find Whistler—the small, ratty messenger from the Powers That Be—standing in front of her, was an understatement.
She’d been expecting some sort of challenge, the next stage of this ridiculous game she was playing, and honestly—she’d have welcomed it. Not one part of the game so far had played to her strengths, and she felt that a good, long fight was well overdue.
No such luck. Although the small tussle she’d engaged him in had helped, a little.
Whistler started pacing up and down in front of her, explaining that he had been sent by the Powers to give her a metaphorical kick up the behind. “So, the long and short of it is: keep going and don’t give up.”
“That’s it?” Buffy sighed. “That’s all you’ve got for me? I don’t understand why your bosses can’t just snap their fingers and send me home.”
Whistler shrugged. “You and the vampire locked yourselves into the game when you agreed to play. The window of opportunity for the Powers to get you out of here passed a long time ago. There’s nothing they can do, even if they wanted to.”
“That sucks.” Buffy pouted.
“Besides, they think it’ll be good for you,” Whistler added. “Learning experience and all that.”
“If you say so,” Buffy said, and sent Whistler a dubious look. “Can you tell me a couple of things, though?”
Whistler nodded. “I can try.”
“Are Willow and Xander really in danger? It’s been in the back of my mind that Gavriel and Natan might have tricked us, but I couldn’t take the chance.”
“They’re locked up, yeah,” Whistler said. “Not in any immediate danger, but the gamemasters won’t hesitate to hurt them or have them killed if you lose the game.”
Buffy paled, and sat up a little straighter. “Tell me how I can save them.”
“You want to know how, kid?” Whistler crouched down, his eyes meeting Buffy’s. “Get your ass into gear and stop messing around.”
Buffy laughed, a wry, slightly hysterical laugh. She shook her head. “You think I’m not trying? I haven’t stopped trying since I got here.”
“You’re the Slayer.” Whistler stood up, and started to pace up and down the tiny shack once more, wagging his finger at her every so often. “You need to stop wallowing in self-pity, stop complaining about the vampire and do something about him!”
At this, Buffy smiled faintly. “So, I get to stake him? Wow, is this some kind of running theme with me, or what? Sleep with a guy and run him through with something sharp and pointy when the Powers That Be ask me to?”
Whistler stopped pacing, and sat down on the dusty floor next to Buffy. “We don’t want you to kill him. We want you to work with him.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You’re not gonna make it if you try to play this game alone. You need him.”
“Like I need a hole in my head, sure!” Buffy jumped up, her mind whirling. She couldn’t process this, couldn’t focus on anything, her head still messed up from the events of the last twenty-four hours. “I can do this on my own!”
“Right, ‘cos you’ve done so well so far,” Whistler goaded. “Look at you. Hiding, crying in a shed, when you should be halfway to the finish line. You’re the Slayer. It’s time you started acting like it.”
Buffy shook her head, mouthing wordlessly. The last thing she wanted to do was to see Spike, let alone work with him, not after what had happened between them. Not after she’d played the doting Stepford wife. Not when her feelings about the whole thing were still so muddled. “But… the gamemasters. They said we couldn’t work together.”
“When have you ever played by the rules? Besides. They’re not so scary.” Whistler shrugged, and winked. “You’ve defeated them before, you can do it again.”
“What?” Buffy’s head shot up, her mind fixing on the last thing Whistler had said. “I’ve fought them before? Yeah, okay, robes and hoods, kind of a theme with the evil guys, but I think I’d remember being sucked into a life-size game of Dungeons and Dragons.”
Whistler grinned. “I didn’t say you’d done this before. Just that you’ve dealt with your puppet masters in the past.”
Buffy felt her patience wearing thin. Why couldn’t the Powers be more specific with their cryptic messages? “So, who are they?”
“I can’t say.”
“Typical.” Buffy rolled her eyes.
“So.” Whistler rubbed his hands together, and moved towards the door. “You need to find your vampire and get yourselves to the finish line.”
“He’s not my vampire!” Buffy replied, her tone indignant. “He’s not my anything.”
“It’s a figure of speech, kid. Focus on the big picture, okay?”
“I guess.” She followed him out of the lean-to, shivering in the early-morning breeze that hit her as she stepped outside. “I still think I could win this on my own.”
Whistler turned, his gaze hard and his mouth set in a grim line, no longer all smiles and joviality. “Listen. You must work with Spike. The gamemasters are still dangerous, and your friends are in big trouble. Got it?”
Buffy nodded.
“Good. Now, I’m allowed to tell you three more things.” Whistler held up three fingers, to make sure he got the point across. “One: the gamemasters are dangerous, but they’re stupid. Predictable. Two: don’t eat any more food that you haven’t killed, caught or picked yourself. Three: follow your heart.”
“Follow my heart?” Buffy repeated. “And you said the gamemasters were predictable?”
Whistler shrugged. “Just doing my job, kid.”
“Right, okay. I get it.” She looked up to the lightening sky, and then down to the dial around her neck. Her pointer was still in line with Spike’s. “Any idea where he is?”
Whistler nodded his head towards a tall hill and a chalk path. “Up there. Cowshed.”
“Ew.” Buffy wrinkled her nose. “So, is he going to be getting a visit from the ghost of apocalypses past, too?”
“’Course not. We’re the PTB, we only help the good guys.”
“Could you get any more ambiguous?” Buffy sighed. “Okay, so, no visit from the Fairy Godfather for Spike. How am I going to convince him to work with me?”
“Oh,” Whistler smirked, backing away, his body starting to fade around the edges. “I don’t think you’ll have to do much convincing at all.”
-TBC-
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to those who reviewed last chapter! This is a bit of a talky chapter, but I hope you enjoy. Thanks to PaganBaby for beta-reading.
Chapter End Notes:
Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you thought in a review!