You're Already CaughtAuthor:
Beer Good Rating:
PG13 Word Count:
Missing scene from "Chosen". One of Buffy's old nemeses tries to interfere with the spell, but you know how karma's a bitch...? Or, well, a rat in Amy's case.You're Already Caught
It was a big spell. The do-or-die sort – literally; if it backfired, she might be toast. But hate is a strong motivator, and Amy was damned if she'd let them get away with this. As far as she was concerned the armies of the First could have this crappy town, and if she could help out in some small way by snatching Willow's shiny new toy away just as she was about to perform that spell and create her own army of mini-Buffys... hey, just call her the evil samaritan.
"Goddess Diana, work thy... screw it. Work my
will for once." She took a deep breath as she made the last adjustments to the bowl of herbs and crystals in front of her. "The blade may be sharp and the will may be strong, but new-found strength will not last long. Life may end and Death may dance; bring me the Scythe that just changed hands.
" She lit the herbs. "So mote it b-"
An incredibly bright flash knocked her flat on her back, and she screamed as the power ripped through her... and disappeared as suddenly as it had come. She sat up, blinking against the slowly dissipating smoke. And then she saw it. The remaining glow from the bowl cast a shadow against the wall; the silhouette of a long, impossibly sharp blade, and a hooded figure holding it out towards her.
"YES! Take that
, Rosenberg! I got your Scythe, and -" Hey, wait a minute. Something wasn't right here. If the messenger carrying the Scythe to her was silhouetted against the wall, then he should be standing right in front of her... but there was nobody else here. Well, unless of course he was really really tiny and standing right next to the bowl so his shadow was projected upwards, but who -
She looked down to see a really really tiny figure standing right next to the bowl so his shadow was projected upwards; a skeletal rat, wearing a black cowl and holding a miniature scythe that looked like something you might use to harvest, say, garden cress rather than wheat. Amy paled and instinctively backed away. "No. No way. Please, I got the spell right! I..." Her hand touched something behind her; she looked and saw her own body lying on the floor, the energy from the botched spell still crackling around her nostrils. "No..." She turned back to the bite-size reaper. "But my intent was pure..."
pure! And... and..." All the fight went out of her as she realised the pointlessness of arguing with him. Quietly, she asked "Don't I at least get the real one?"
But the Death of Rats just shook its head sadly. It held out a bony paw and beckoned, and Amy could but follow.
"THE REAL ONE," EH?
SQUEAK. The Death of Rats looked insulted.
I SUPPOSE IT IS A BIT UNFAIR. SHE WAS HUMAN, AFTER ALL.
OF COURSE WE'RE NOT ABOUT BEING FAIR. Death stroked his chin. STILL, MAYBE SHE WILL MAKE BETTER USE OF HER TALENTS IN HER NEXT LIFE.
In the computer room at the Unseen University, the Head of Inadvisedly Applied Magic, Ponder Stibbons, marvelled at the speed with which Hex completed its latest tasks. The last shipment of ants (which as we all know the computer used to carry information) had included a queen who had somehow organised the other ants much more efficiently – almost as if she instinctively understood the magic principles the computer ran on. And to top it all off, Hex didn't even break down and ask for more cheese as often as it used to. In fact, it seemed to run even better when he didn't give it any, as if it didn't like cheese anymore.