He was looking for a soul to steal
Buffy belongs to Joss/Mutant Enemy/Fox; the rest is attributed in the narrative. Authors Note:
While rearranging the categories I noticed a music category that I didn't know we had, so I decided to bolster it a little. Apologies to anyone who leaves with the tune stuck in their head – whoever said “a problem shared is a problem halved” was lying!
Oz stood calmly in the queue outside the gig, a place he’d been many times before, waiting for the tickets of those in front of him to be checked. Faith wasn’t quite so calm, but this had little to do with anticipation of the forthcoming concert, and more to do with her temperament. Both queuing for half an hour in the rain and trying to make small talk with Oz were taking their toll. In fact, neither of them really had any musical interest in the concert – country wasn’t either of their scenes; they were here on business.
“I still don’t see why we’re doing this,” the slayer said, the tedium of standing in silence becoming too much. “Xander made his own bed, and he should have to lie in it.”
A subtle change of expression on the werewolf’s face was all it took to communicate ‘you know why – if we don’t find it, there will be nowhere that we are safe from Willow.’
“I mean, he summoned the demon in the first place – if he didn’t read the small print in the scroll, that’s his problem.”
It was a few months after the closing of the Hellmouth when Sweet, the dancing demon, had materialised in the foyer of the new slayer training facility, proclaimed he had changed his mind about the queen thing, and promptly vanished back to his home dimension taking a yelping Xander with him. The original spell to summon him had been destroyed in Sunnydale, and as the Scoobies had even fewer references on musical magic than they did back then, they were left without a way to retrieve Xander.
Their first break had been when Giles called Wolfram & Hart to see if Wesley had any information that could be of use. A rather sheepish Lorne had confessed to giving an inebriated Sweet a reading in Caritas the previous evening, advising him to admit his true feelings and follow his heart. Unfortunately, the Pylean had not paid attention to for whom that heart was pining; however, he was able to provide a name for the dimension from which Sweet hailed.
This had led to their second break: Willow had found a spell that would open a portal to the dimension in which Xander was being held, but it required an “Instrument of Satan”. They’d tried using all the standard satanic paraphernalia – inverted crosses, pentagrams, even Dawn’s American Idol DVD, but nothing had worked. Then Oz had had a moment of enlightenment, and suggested that maybe it literally meant an instrument. This had led to even more research, but no references were to be found to evil musical instruments, other than the popular allusions to rock and roll being the music of the Devil. They tried using Oz’s guitar and Giles’ Rolling Stones album as a focus for the spell just in case, but neither had any effect.
It was while replacing a book that like many before it had proved utterly useless that Willow had spotted the CD on the shelf above.
“Hey guys, I may have something here” she said as she switched on the stereo. Confusion at her actions turned to astonishment as the strains of violins filled the room. Five faces looked at her, questioning her sanity.
The Devil went down to Georgia, he was looking for a soul to steal,
He was in a bind, because he was way behind, he was willing to make a deal.
When he come across this young man sawing on a fiddle and playing it hot,
and the Devil jumped upon a hickory stump and said boy let me tell you what.
I guess you didn’t know it, but I’m a fiddle player too.
And if you’d care to take a dare, I’ll make a bet with you.
Now you play pretty good fiddle boy, but give the devil his due,
I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul, ‘cos I think I’m better than you.
Three minutes later, said faces were still every bit as sanity-questioning.
“Well it could be based on a true story,” she said with frustration. She checked the inlay card to find the words had been written by the singer, Charlie Daniels, and the computer security level of the record company was child’s play compared to the systems she usually found herself having to access. She was soon in possession of a mobile telephone number.
Giles had been volunteered to make the call, and posing as a journalist for a British music magazine he had questioned the singer about the origins of the story, which was why Oz and Faith now found themselves queuing in the rain outside a “Good Ol’ Boys” concert in a small town outside Savannah.
“Johnny” was indeed a real person, who had spent many years as a struggling session musician. He had briefly played with the Charlie Daniels Band on one of their tours, and told the story of the deal with the Devil while out for a drink after a gig one night. Although he didn’t believe a word of it, Charlie had used it as the basis for the song. The second computer hack of the evening, this time to a concert promoter, had seen Willow track down his current location and Faith and Oz were dispatched to ascertain the veracity of the golden fiddle story.
Four state’s worth of taking turns driving Oz’s van had led them to their current location, and four state’s worth of Oz whistling that damn tune had led to Faith’s current mood.