THE EYES OF LUCY JORDAN.
By Dave Turner.
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the song ‘Ballard of Lucy Jordan’, I write this for fun not profit.
Crossover: This is a crossover between BtVS and the Marianne Faithful song ‘The Ballard of Lucy Jordan’. This is a None Song Songfic.
Timeline: The story starts just before Willow casts her spell in ‘Chosen’.
Spelling and Grammar: Written in glorious English-English. American idioms are used wherever possible. Spelling and grammar are English.
Summary: A suburban housewife finds new meaning to her life. Minor changes made 16/11/08.
Authors Note: Watch a music video of the song here:
Full Lyrics at the end of the fic.
Betaed by Rachael who also, in a roundabout way, gave me the idea for this story.
The Eyes of Lucy Jordan.
By Dave Turner.
Lucy Jordan lay in her bed in her smart white painted bedroom in her white painted suburban house and contemplated her life and where it had all gone wrong. Lying there under the sheets she realised that this was all there was ever going to be. All her dreams of what she would do with her life had been worn away by the passing of the years. It would always be ‘if only’ for her. She would never see Paris as she had promised herself all those years ago.
The house was silent now; her husband had left for work. He was a project manager at Armacorp International. After an early rise within the company his career had stalled over the last few years, he was likely to remain very much in the same position as he was now until the day he retired.
Lucy had two children a boy and a girl, Mark was twelve and Maggie was ten. They were already growing to despise their parents. Mark was becoming surly and disobedient while Maggie seemed to spend as much of her free time at her friend’s houses as she could. Lucy rarely saw any of her daughter’s friends and when she did it was only when they were waiting for Maggie to come out with them. They were both at school now, her husband having taken them with him when he had driven off to work. She rolled over on to her side and watched as the morning sunlight shone through the curtains.
“How will I fill my day today?” she asked herself.
Not that it really mattered…nothing she did really mattered, not any more, she sighed deeply. She could spend all day cleaning the house or maybe cut flowers and arrange them in vases around the house.
She sighed again.
But why bother? The house would just get dirty again, the flowers would only die and their petals would litter the floor and she would have to clean the house once more. And so it would go on like some eternal nightmare of dust and cobwebs and dead flowers. A sob escaped Lucy’s lips as the tears of frustration ran down her cheeks and left little damp patches on her pillow.
Sniffing away her tears she rolled across the bed and put her feet down on the floor and sat up on the edge of her bed. Suddenly the room seemed to turn orange and start to spin. She felt sick and dizzy, she was sure she could hear voices that kept asking her something as if from far, far away.
Swaying slightly Lucy put her hand to her forehead, the voices were closer and she could almost hear them clearly now. She had to answer, she somehow knew this was the most important question she would ever be asked. The voices whispered in her ears like the wind whispering through a field of wheat.
“Yes!” Lucy gasped, “Oh yes please.”
As suddenly as it had begun, the voices and nausea were gone, the house was once again silent and Lucy found herself sitting on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands. Slowly she stood up, she felt fine the dizziness had gone the strange orange cast that everything had taken on was gone too. In fact, now she thought about it, she felt better than she had in a long time. Lucy smiled to herself; maybe today wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
Pulling off her white cotton night dress and put on her robe Lucy made her way to the bathroom where she turned on the shower and brushed her teeth as the water warmed. Rinsing out her mouth she tested the shower’s temperature, removed her robe and stepped under the powerful warm jets of water.
She let the water play over her body, it felt like it was washing away all her earlier depression and Lucy found herself filled with a new purpose. What that purpose was she wasn’t too sure, but unexpectedly life seemed to be worth living again. As she ran the soap over her body she actually found herself singing a nursery rhyme that she had memorised as a little girl sitting in her father’s chair. The last time she had sung it was when Maggie had been a baby. She stopped and laughed at herself; she’d not felt this good about herself in a very long time. Maybe it was time to start to make things happen, maybe she would get to Paris this year after all.
Her happy musings were interrupted by the large grey scaly hand with long sharp talons which tore through the shower curtain. Lucy screamed long and hard as one of the claws nicked her hip and drew blood. She threw herself against the back wall of the shower cubicle trying to get as far away from the clawed hand as she could.
Screaming, again as the shower curtain was ripped down, Lucy caught her first real glimpse of the creature that stood in her bathroom. It was roughly human shaped and covered in grey scales. It had long black claws on its fingers and toes and large sharp looking yellow teeth that filled its mouth to overflowing. Its staring red eyes drank in her naked body as the creature’s huge phallus became larger and more fearsome by the second.
The creature reached for Lucy with one oversized clawed hand, she screamed once more. Abruptly she knew exactly what she needed to do. Lucy grabbed hold of the monster’s wrist with one hand and its thumb with the other; she twisted the hand with all her strength; which appeared to be considerably more than she had thought possible.
The beast screamed in pain and tried to pull away. Not letting go of the hand Lucy used it to steady herself as she kicked the monster’s penis as hard as she could! A high pitched squeal escaped the creature’s lips. Lucy pushed the creature against the far wall of the bathroom. The beast crouched on the bathroom floor nursing its throbbing member in its clawed hands.
Taking her chance Lucy leapt from the shower stall and made for the door, the monster grabbed at her leg as she went by. Dodging the clumsy attempt to trip her she kicked out again catching the beast on the side of its ugly head. It roared with rage and scrabbled to its feet before chasing after her as she made her way along the corridor towards her bedroom.
Crying with fear Lucy made it to her bedroom seconds before the monster and slammed the door shut behind her. She rested her back against the door and wondered why she wasn’t breathing heavily. The beast hurled itself at the door; there was a terrific bang as the creature smashed into the door and bounced off. Lucy, much to her surprise easily held the door closed, the beast snarled and roared in frustration, it made its way down the corridor looking for another way to get to its prey.
Thinking quickly Lucy realised that it wouldn’t take the monster that long to work out that there was only one way into her bedroom and the door would not stand up to a concerted assault. She cast around for something with which to barricade the door, her eye fell on a heavy chest of drawers, it stood about six feet away, and she’d never be able to move it…would she? It seemed anything was possible today.
Tip-toeing over the piece of furniture so as not to alert the monster, Lucy got behind the chest of drawers and pushed. Much to her surprise it moved, again she put her shoulder behind the heavy piece of furniture and pushed, it moved easily into place. Hearing the noise the beast renewed its attack on her bedroom door. Lucy heard the door start to splinter as the monster tore at it with its razor sharp claws.
Even with the chest of drawers against the door the creature would soon break through and get into the room. Panicking slightly Lucy looked around the room, why hadn’t she let her husband keep a gun in the house? Unsure of what she should do she ran over to the window and pulled back the curtains, she looked over her shoulder at the sound of the door being reduced to splinters.
There appeared to be only one way out for her. She pulled open the windows and looked down into the garden; it wasn’t really that far was it? Her choice was simple; either stay up in her bedroom and fight the monster or jump for her life. Lucy jumped. She hit the grass and rolled before bouncing to her feet. To her never ending astonishment, apart from a few bruises, she was totally unharmed. The monster stuck its head out of the window and howled in frustration as it saw its victim make its escape down the street.
Officers Rocco and Scott had been called to this leafy quiet suburb of Los Angeles in answer to a call from a concerned neighbour. The neighbour had heard screaming coming from the next door house and had called the police, it was that sort of neighbourhood. They pulled up outside number 1499 Westwood Avenue and looked the house over. There eyes were immediately drawn to the figure of a naked woman who ran from the direction of the backyard and made off down the street.
The two patrolmen looked at each other in confusion, the woman screamed for help as she ran between the shadows cast by the trees that lined the street. Rocco put the patrol car in gear and gave chase. Later Scott insisted that the car be checked over as there was obviously something wrong with the speedometer. There had to be, no way was that woman running at nearly forty miles an hour when they overtook her.
It was a sunny afternoon nearly two weeks later and Lucy Jordan was still trying to come to terms with how her life had changed. Everything seemed so much brighter…sharper than it had before. Most astounding was her ability to see in the dark and hear the slightest noise made by her children. However, there was also this need she felt to roam the streets of her neighbourhood at night and battle the strange creatures that she had never dreamt existed.
One part of her was terrified another part was excited, eager even to battle these ‘things’ on an almost nightly basis. The adrenaline rush she got from these battles made her eager for sexual release when she got back to her bed. Sex with her husband had suddenly become more exciting and fulfilling than it had in a very long time.
But, always at the back of her mind were the questions; what had happened to her? Would her new wonderful powers be taken away from her as quickly as she had gained them? If only there was someway of finding out what had happened to her. If only there was someone she could talk to.
As if in answer to her questions the doorbell rang.
Willow yawned and stretched lazily, the satin sheets gliding over her naked body making her nipples come erect as they came into contact with the silky smoothness of the material. Oh the advantages of having a rich girlfriend, she thought as she rolled onto her side and looked up at Kennedy. Her lover sat in bed next to her reading the morning’s newspaper.
After Sunnydale had nose-dived into the ground, the survivors had made their way to LA. Here the school bus finally gave out and they found themselves homeless, destitute and with only the clothes they stood up in. Added to which some of their number were in need of serious medical attention.
Things had looked bleak until Kennedy had produced a credit card that she had taped to her leg before the ‘Last Fight’.
“I never go into combat without my plastic!” she’d joked, after ripping the card from her leg.
Within hours the battered survivors had found themselves staying at one of LA’s best hotels. They had all been given generous credit accounts at several expensive clothing stores. The injured had been taken to an expensive private hospital where they could recover without fear of being asked too many awkward questions. When Willow had asked Kennedy whether her father would mind the expense, she had been told in no uncertain manner, that ‘Daddy’ would probably have his accountants’ write the whole thing off as an ‘Educational Trip’ and Willow was not to worry.
“You awake sleepy head?” Kennedy studied an item in the newspaper.
Willow sighed and looked longingly up at her girlfriend, Kennedy’s breasts jiggled teasingly as she turned the pages of the paper. Willow found herself reaching out to caress those perfect smooth orbs which fitted her hand so perfectly.
“Looks like we’ve got another one!” Kennedy apparently didn’t notice her partner’s attempts at seduction.
“Another what?” Willow ran her hand down across Kennedy’s body and along her legs.
“Another Slayer!” Kennedy wriggled a little at Willow’s touch but remained focused on the job in hand, “Willow Rosenberg will you pay attention?” she asked with mock severity, “Or do I have to tie you up and spank you?”
“Oh yes please!” Willow giggled as she slipped her hand between Kennedy’s legs.
“Stop that!” Kennedy pushed Willow’s hand away, Willow moaned her displeasure.
“If you don’t try and focus,” a crafty look crossed Kennedy’s face, “If you don’t concentrate I won’t tie you up and spank you!”
“Oh no! Please!” begged Willow.
Kennedy’s threat seemed to have the desired effect and Willow sat up and leant against her shoulder as they looked at the paper together.
“What have you found?” Willow’s fingernail traced a lazy circle around Kennedy’s nipple.
Kennedy pointed to a short story near the bottom of the page as her body started to respond to Willow’s touch.
“Mrs Lucy Jordan, 37,” she began, “it doesn’t give a full address…”
“Shouldn’t be hard to find,” Willow flicked her girlfriend’s nipple gently with her finger, “If I can get to a terminal.”
“Good,” Kennedy started to find it difficult to ignore Willow’s advances, “apparently she was attacked while she was in the shower by a ‘wild animal’.” Kennedy emphasised the words, “Says here that she fought if off, jumped from a second floor window and ran off naked down the street. She’d travelled about three blocks before the police managed to catch her.”
“What makes you think she’s a slayer?” Willow ran her tongue around Kennedy’s ear and down her neck.
“Oh,” Kennedy struggled to keep her attention on the newspaper story, “the date and time put the incident on the same day and shortly after the time you cast your spell and…”
Kennedy gave up trying to explain and with an exasperated sigh she grabbed hold of Willow. After a short struggle Willow found herself lying across Kennedy’s lap, she wriggled about provocatively.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Kennedy’s hand came down on Willow’s bottom with a resounding ‘Crack!’
“OW!” Willow squealed wriggling all the more.
“Had enough?” demanded Kennedy.
“Oh no!” gasped Willow, “I need to be spanked…I’m a very naughty witch!”
That afternoon Kennedy drove them out to the suburbs in her new sports car. Willow sat in the passenger seat and breathed in the new leather smell of the upholstery. ‘Goddess’ she thought, everything was so…sensual…sensuous? Whatever. Her new clothes all seemed to be made of silk, satin or chiffon, she could hardly move without getting turned on! Today she wore a calf length chiffon dress in dark greens and russet reds (Wicca Chic as Kennedy called it) over red silk underwear; some times it felt like she wasn’t wearing any clothes at all.
Kennedy wore an extremely expensive pair of jeans and a white silk blouse. She was going bra-less today and Willow could just make out the dark shadows of her nipples through the not quite see-through material. Willow wondered if she wouldn’t explode from the sheer ‘sexiness’ of it all. The after affects of her earlier spanking weren’t helping either as it made her fidget in her seat.
They pulled up outside a white painted two story house; Kennedy cast an appraising eye over the building.
“Typical,” she muttered as she opened her door and got out.
“What’s ‘typical’?” Willow climbed out of her side and looked up at the house.
Kennedy came and stood next to her and took Willow’s hand in her own.
“It’s a typical upper-middle-management home,” she explained as they walked slowly up to the front-door. “The husbands got about as far as he’s going to get at work. The kids are away at some private school and the wife is bored out of her skull at home with nothing to do all day except think about all the stuff she never got to do when she was young.” They arrived at the front door and rang the bell, “Give her six months and she’ll be on the booze…if she’s not already.”
“That’s very bleak.” Willow said sadly.
Kennedy shrugged dismissively, “I’ve seen it a hundred times.”
The door opened.
Lucy stood and looked uncertainty at the two attractive, expensively dressed young women who stood on her doorstep who smiled up at her.
“Hello, Mrs Jordan?” smiled the red haired woman as she self-consciously let go of her partner’s hand, “I’m Willow Rosenberg and this is my-my…friend Kennedy DeSilver, we really need to talk to you.”
Lucy looked from one woman to the other, when her eyes fell on the Latino looking girl, Ms DeSilver; she felt a strange sense of familiarity, like she was family or something.
“It’s really important,” urged Ms DeSilver, “has something odd happen to you lately? Have you noticed how you can hear better than ever before…”
“See in the dark?” asked the red head, Ms Rosenberg.
“Monsters? Super-strength?” added the brunette with a wry smile.
“You’d better come in,” Lucy stood back to let the women in.
Willow and Kennedy were shown into a cosy looking living room.
“See?” whispered Kennedy glancing round the room, “What did I tell you?”
Whatever it was Willow didn’t see it, this was just the sort of house she’d dreamed of living in when she had been little; in fact she still did.
“Please sit down.” Mrs Jordan gestured towards a comfortable looking sofa.
Kennedy sat down and sank into the cushions, Willow hesitated and remained standing.
“Please Ms Rosenberg, sit down,” repeated Lucy.
A pained expression crossed Willow’s face as she unconsciously rubbed her butt.
“You know?” she gave Lucy a half smile, “I think I’ll stay standing.”
Willow glanced down at Kennedy and received an encouraging nod; Willow took a deep breath and began.
“Mrs Jordan, contrary to popular belief the world didn’t start as a paradise…”
Six Months Later.
Lucy and her watcher had been tracking the Gigolo Demon for a couple of weeks before running him to ground a mere three days ago. The demon preyed on lonely sexually frustrated middle-aged women. It would build up their confidence and hopes, then dash them by exposing them as the sad unattractive women that they’d always suspected they were. He would then trick them into committing suicide and steal their souls as they departed from their bodies.
Allowing herself to fall under the demon’s spell Lucy appeared to be just another victim. In her short career as a slayer she had discovered that not many demons could sense or even believe that she was a slayer. They rarely realised just how much danger they were in until it was too late.
The demon worked his magic quickly on his victims and tonight was the night of the Charity Ball at the Grand Imperial Hotel in Paris, where Lucy’s hopes and dreams were supposed to come crashing down around her and she was to kill herself in despair. Her Watcher had told her what to expect and together they had worked out a way of counteracting the demon’s magic.
She walked into the Ball-room on the arm of the demon; he really did appear to be a very attractive young man and just for a moment Lucy regretted having to slay him…but it had to be done. They walked through the crowded room until they were on the dance floor where the demon gathered her in his arms as they glided across the floor.
It was then that she noticed the first sniggers from the watching guests; she knew it wasn’t real but as the sniggers turned to laughter and people started to point at her she found it hard to believe that it all wasn’t all just make believe. As the laughter grew louder and louder her new found confidence started to falter; maybe they really were laughing at the stupid middle-aged American woman who thought she could be a slayer…how could she be so stupid to think that she was anything else but a middle class housewife living a sad humdrum life?
As she backed away from her partner in horror at what she was, a man bumped into her as if my accident and suddenly she found herself looking into her watcher’s eyes.
“I love you,” he whispered before disappearing into the crowd.
This reminder was enough for Lucy to regain some of her confidence and remember what she had come here to do. With a cry of despair she turned away from her partner and ran across the dance floor her long silk ball-gown swishing against her legs. She burst from the ball-room and went through a service door where she found a set of fire stairs leading up to the roof.
Lucy climbed the stairs apparently sobbing at all her shattered dreams. She was in fact repeating over and over again the nursery rhymes she had learnt as a child. The mental effort required to remember the childish verses counteracted the demon’s magic and by the time she had reached the roof Lucy was totally in control of herself again.
Standing on the edge of the roof as the late evening sun bathed her in a golden glow, Lucy looked down at the crowd that had gathered in the courtyard outside the Ball-room. Well, she thought, I’ll never be invited here again! A sea of faces looked up at her and she heard the crowd gasp as she apparently stumbled and nearly fell.
“Careful Lucy,” she muttered quietly to herself, “don’t want to overdo it and spoil everything.”
She could feel the demon standing on the roof edge a couple of yards away from her. She could see the long white car that waited for her on the other side of the crowd. Turning to the demon who held out his hand to her she knew that all she had to do was reach out and take his hand and it would all be over. All the disappointments (The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea…) all the shame (O lovely Pussy, O Pussy my love…) all the lies (…What a lovely Pussy you are…).
Lucy turned to the demon and smiled; she bowed and curtseyed to him.
“Come with me my love,” the words echoed in her head although his mouth never moved.
Lucy sighed sadly.
“Not today I think!” she stepped up to the demon and grabbed him by the arm, “I think all this play acting is getting a little tired don’t you?”
Lucy tightened her grip on the demon’s arm and watched in amusement at the look of disbelief and horror that spread across the demon’s face. She looked down at the crowd once more.
“Hey,” Lucy smiled, “all those nice people have come to see someone fall of the roof! What you say we give ‘em what they want?”
Lucy almost laughed at the look of dread on the demon’s face as she gave him a good shove and he plummeted earthwards. She watched as the demon screamed in terror as he flew through the air. His cries were suddenly cut off as he hit the grown with a resounding ‘THUD!’ leaving a starfish shaped splodge of human looking gore on the pavement below. Glancing over the edge Lucy couldn’t help but clap her hands in delight at a job well done.
“Score one for our side!” she cried as she turned and skipped from the roof.
Making her way down the fire escape, Lucy quickly found the stairs down to the kitchen were the staff stood back in amazement as an obviously rich lady in a ball-gown sprinted through the kitchens sending any one too slow to get out of her way flying as she ran. Bursting out of the back door of the hotel she looked around for her Watcher. There he was sitting in their sports car revving the engine impatiently. She ran over to the car and jumped aboard and kissed her watcher passionately on his lips.
“Where to now?” Lucy asked as her husband put the car into gear and sped off through the streets behind the hotel.
“Rupert Giles wants us to go to Amsterdam,” he informed her, “something about magically enhanced drugs!”
“Okay then!” laughed Lucy happily as she started to struggle out of her ball-gown, “Amsterdam it is!”
At the age of thirty-seven Lucy Jordan had been given a new lease on life. She realised that she hadn’t been the only one who had felt trapped by their life. Her husband had become disillusioned with his job years before and was only doing it to keep his wife in the lifestyle he thought she’d wanted. When the new Watchers Council had asked him to be his wife’s watcher he had jumped at the chance and resigned from Armacorp Int. the following day.
Of course it wasn’t perfect; their lives were dangerous now, they never knew where they were going to be from one week to the next, but at least they where living a life now instead of the living death that they had been experiencing. The children were fine and well looked after and if anything were to happen to their parents they would be cared for by the council. Mark was doing well and seemed to be enjoying the Military School they had sent him to. Their daughter Maggie was growing into an intelligent and attractive young lady at the girl’s boarding school recommended by the Council.
Lucy Jordan laughed out loud with the shear joy of being alive; as she was driven through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair.
The Ballard of Lucy Jordan.
The morning sun touched lightly on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
In a white suburban bedroom in a white suburban town
As she lay there neath the covers dreaming of a thousand lovers
Till the world turned to orange and the room went spinning round.
At the age of thirty-seven she realised she’d never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair.
So she let the phone keep ringing and she sat there softly singing
Little nursery rhymes she’d memorised in her daddy’s easy chair.
Her husband, he's off to work and the kids are off to school,
And there are, oh, so many ways for her to spend the day.
She could clean the house for hours or rearrange the flowers
Or run naked through the shady street screaming all the way.
At the age of thirty-seven she realised shed never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair
So she let the phone keep ringing as she sat there softly singing
Pretty nursery rhymes shed memorised in her daddy’s easy chair.
The evening sun touched gently on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
On the roof top where she climbed when all the laughter grew too loud
And she bowed and curtsied to the man who reached and offered her his hand,
And he led her down to the long white car that waited past the crowd.
At the age of thirty-seven she knew she’d found forever
As she rode along through Paris with the warm wind in her hair
Lines from ‘The Owl and the Pussycat’ by Edward Lear (1812-1888).