Off to a Flying Start
Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the creation of Joss Whedon. The world of Dr Horrible belongs to Joss Whedon, Jed Whedon, Maurissa Tancharoen and Zack Whedon.Timeline:
After Chosen, before Dr Horrible, ignores comics.Spoilers:
Contains spoilers for Act III of Dr Horrible.Warnings:
May contain nuts. May also contain non-graphic lesbian relationships (as apparently, it is international femslash day). May also also contain character death; horrible character death. May also also also contain a few typos as it's un-beta'd and it's 1 am.
It was a glorious mid-summer's Saturday morning as the limousine drew up on the private drive of the mansion, nestled in the rolling countryside just outside the village of East Hampton, Long Island. The chauffeur made his way around to passenger door and opened it, to allow the exit of a young lady who looked every inch the daughter of the kind of family that would live in such a prestigious residence. Her straight brunette hair was freshly salon-styled, and she wore a pair of Giorgio Armani sunglasses. Her navy jacket and skirt was from Donna Karan's latest summer collection, and her shapely legs were tipped with Prada stretched pumps. She was followed from the car by another young lady, similarly outfitted in designer clothing; however, unlike her companion, she didn't appear to have the self assurance that comes with being born rich to carry off the look properly.
“Willow, it's only one weekend,” said Kennedy. “It's daddy's birthday – I can't not show up for the party, and it's not like my family won't accept you. They've known about me being a lesbian since I was fourteen, and they've met several of my previous girlfriends. Hell, my aunt even set me up with one of her friend's daughters once; you'll be fine. Anyway, how can anyone not love you?”
“But Ken, it's just so...” She gestured to the house and the Bentley from which they had just emerged. They had landed in New York the previous morning, and rather than going straight to the house, Kennedy had checked them into a suite at the Waldorf Estoria for the night. They'd then spent the afternoon on Fifth Avenue updating their wardrobe for the weekend – an experience Willow would have enjoyed a lot more if she didn't have to suffer the nerves that came from knowing why it was happening.
“Just relax, and enjoy it,” Kennedy replied as the chauffeur unloaded their bags from car. They walked to the main entrance to the house, the door to which was being held open by a doorman. Inside, they were greeted by the butler.
“Miss Kennedy, it is a pleasure to see you again; it has been too long since your last visit. And you must be Miss Willow: welcome to DeSilver Acres.”
“Thank you, Hodges, it's good to see you again too,” replied Kennedy. “Have any other members of the family arrived yet?”
“No Miss, you're the first. Your mother and father are driving up from the city this afternoon, and your brother and sister are both flying in tonight. I've taken the liberty of having the maids prepare the Canterbury Suite in the East Wing for you. Although I'm sure Miss Willow will enjoy taking a look at your old room at some point during your visit, I'm sure you'll prefer somewhere more 'adult' to sleep?”
Willow giggled as her girlfriend turned bright red. “Thanks,” she said.
“Maurice, take the young ladies bags to their room,” Hodges instructed the chauffeur. “Ladies, Helena has prepared some fresh lemonade in the garden, if you would like to make your way through.” Willow stared in wonder at the sumptuous decoration as Kennedy led them through palatial family room to the back of the house, where a maid stood waiting behind a table with a cold pitcher. She poured them the promised two glasses of lemonade.
“You really grew up here?” asked Willow.
“In the summers,” replied Kennedy. “Come on, let me give you the guided tour.”
Twenty minutes of exploration later, the two lovers were stood outside the last door on the upper West Wing of the house.
“Ok Willow, before we go into this room, you have to promise never to tell anyone back in Cleveland about this.”
By process of elimination, Willow knew this must be Kennedy's childhood bedroom. “Well, I don't know...” she teased.
Kennedy reach behind her and gently pulled her forward into a deep kiss. When she pulled a way she asked again, “Promise?”
“I promise,” whispered Willow.
Kennedy pushed open the door to reveal what could only be described as 'pink'. Willow walked in and slowly spun around, taking in the pinkness. Once her eyes had adjusted, the second thing that became noticeable was the love of horses – from the painting of Black Beauty that dominated one of the walls to the collection of My Little Pony toys that decorated the top of the dresser.
“Yeah, so maybe I was a bit girlier in my younger days than now.”
“Hey!” responded Kennedy, and lightly punched her lover's arm.
Willow rubbed her arm: 'lightly punched' didn't quite mean the same thing when delivered by a slayer. “And what about the horses?”
“Oh, when I was out here for the summer, I used to love to ride. In fact, we should go out riding this afternoon – it'll be a great way to explore the grounds.”
“Er, I don't know. I've n-n-never ridden a horse before,” said a nervous Willow.
“Oh, don't be silly. It's easy – anyone can do it. Come on, let's go down to the stables.” Seeing the way Kennedy's face had lit up, Willow couldn't bring herself to refuse, especially when her girlfriend added, “And if you're a good girl, I'll let you bring one of the riding crops back up to the bedroom afterwards!”
Willow watched as the stable boy brought two gorgeous black stallions forth from the stalls, and led them over to where she and Kennedy waited. On the good side, she supposed, she was no longer nervous about meeting Kennedy's parents; she was far to busy being nervous about climbing aboard a sentient animal that she could not, she felt, unambiguously communicate with.
The stable boy crouched and held out his interlocked hands to boost Kennedy as she climbed onto the saddle of her mount, then it was Willow's turn. He repeated the action and Willow attempted to climb onto the animal, but being unfamiliar with the process, took a while to get her foot into the stirrup, during which time the horse shuffled sideways a little, causing her to wobble in mid-air for a moment, before the stable boy steadied her and she swung her leg over the saddle and took the reins.
“Ok, lean forward a little and gently squeeze your feet to tell him to walk,” said Kennedy. Willow followed her instructions, and her horse moved alongside Kennedy's. They made their way out of the stables, and started out along the drive of the mansion.
It was an hour later, and Willow had mostly gotten over her nervousness. She was enjoying their leisurely exploration of the countryside around the mansion. They'd moved up to a trot after Willow had got comfortable with the experience of riding, and had long since left the DeSilver estate. They were currently making their way along the wide grassy verge to the side of the road that led towards East Hampton.
“Ken, I'm thirsty,” said Willow.
“Yeah, me too. Don't worry, if I remember right, there's a café about half a mile up the road. We can tie up the horses and stop for a drink.”
“Great. As much fun as this, I think my ass is starting to go numb.”
Suddenly, Willow's horse appeared to become spooked, and started bucking about, turning away from the road towards Kennedy. “Ken! Help!” shouted Willow, trying to maintain her place in the saddle.
“Willow!” Time seemed to go into slow-motion for Kennedy as she impotently watched from aboard her steed, as Willow's horse rose up on its hind legs, and in doing so threw the witch from the saddle. Willow fell back toward the road, and there was a sickening thud as her head made contact with the wind-shield of a passing pick-up truck. The driver slammed on the brakes, but it was too late; Kennedy watched the lifeless body of her lover hit the pavement. She leapt down from the saddle and rushed over to cradle Willow in her arms, but it was obvious as she did so that Willow's neck had been broken by the force of the impact.
While the slayer was distracted by the death of her lover, Bad Horse took off down the highway at a gallop. It had been humiliating allowing himself to be tacked up and ridden, not to mention the pain of having to put up with a whole hour of girl-talk, but the pay-off was worth it. He had rid the world of the Red Witch – that in itself would be a massive boon to the league – but more importantly, her death would end the spell, and return the many slayers that crawled the world like cockroaches to just being ordinary easily killable little girls. Tomorrow, when his achievement became known, no-one would be able to stand in his way when he claimed the leadership of the Evil League of Evil. The Thoroughbred of Sin let out a cackling neigh, as, in the distance behind him, a – not that she'd realised it yet – ex-slayer sat at the roadside sobbing.
After a few minutes, a large black semi-articulated truck pulled alongside, and the back doors opened inwards to reveal Dead Bowie, holding a pressure hose. He started up the spray, and began washing down Bad Horse as he galloped behind the vehicle. The temporary black dye from his disguise ran free, as beneath the water, his glossy coat returned to its natural chestnut and white colour. Then, a ramp extended from the floor of the trailer, and Bad Horse galloped up into the luxury stable inside.
There, waiting for him, was the winning filly and the two runners up from the Mother Goose Stakes, held the previous weekend at Belmont Park. This was one victory he was definitely going to enjoy celebrating!
Bad Horse, Bad Horse,
Bad Horse, Bad Horse.
He rides across long island, the Thoroughbred of Sin,
The nemesis of Willow, whom he's just done in.
He's declared war on the council, a war that he will win.
The slayer's death, a show of force, watchers too will die of course,