Disclaimer: None of the named characters here are my own. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the Addams family are the sole property of their creators.
The oldest cemetery in Sunnydale was created when pioneers first set foot on the Hellmouth in the early 1800s. Their wooden tombstones had rotted and decayed away but the stone monuments and crypts were still there in the corner of the cemetery although some of the names had been worn away with time. The statues were mostly intact, large crosses and portrait reliefs were still able to be seen. Due to lack of visitors in that area, in recent years the caretaker of the cemetery had given up this corner to the elements rather than risk disturbing the unnatural creatures that lived there. As a result, the old stone path was overrun with weeds and grass, hiding the footstones from view. Of course, it was this section the Addams family chose for their moonlit stroll.
“Isn’t this gorgeous, Querida! A place of death left to decay like the bodies they hold?” Gomez asked, as he guided his wife through the thick tall grass of the path.
“Oui, mon chéri,” Morticia answered as her husband kissed her body passionately, somehow maneuvering through the grass in such a way that despite her dress’s lace and length it did not snag. “Perhaps I should do a painting of this place for Pugsley. You know how much he loves graveyards.”
“The boy was born to be a caretaker of a graveyard! If only the circus hadn’t come to town the day he graduated with an available cannon.”
“Don’t worry, Darling. He can find a long term career after he fractures something vital.”
Puck lagged a few yards behind his parents and Lurch, who was hacking away some of the weeds to make it easier to maneuver around. (His sister had disappeared to do whatever it was she came here to do). Contrary to his usual clumsy nature, his feet were finding the hidden footstones as if the path had been engraved into their memory. The entire area was giving him a wacky sense of déjà vou. He felt like he had seen the entire cemetery before in a dream. Then again, his rational mind reminded him that his room did overlook the Addams Family cemetery, which was a few hundred years older than the cemetery he was in now. It was entirely feasible that the style of the cemetery he was in now matched something in the backyard.
A loud growl ripped through the still night air, catching Puck by surprise. He stumbled over a broken fragment of stone and fell into the grass with a soft yelp. The growl grew closer and Puck’s heart began to beat faster, adrenaline pumping in his veins. He sat up, his eyes looking for the figures of his parents but he couldn’t see them any longer. They must have not noticed he had wandered off.
‘Get a grip on yourself, Puck. You’re an Addams; you would gladly feast on those who harm you.’
A shiny dark-blue demon with large black eyes like the cliché alien heads seized him by the collar and Puck let out a squeak. There were tiny swirls of tan fur along its wrists that turned out not to be fur at all when he attempted to hit the hands off of him at the usual pressure points. Instead the fur had some digestive function as it created red marks on his skin that began to swell.
Whatever it was, it was surprised when Puck slammed his foot down on its instep. To Puck’s relief, the demon seemed to have decided the meal was not worth the trouble and let him fall in the grass.
Puck had just breathed a sigh of relief when he was suddenly seized by the shoulder and yanked up. He turned around to see a demon whose face was some weird mix between a bald pug and a bat, dressed in casual clothes with a long coat, holding some flowers that looked like they were cut from someone’s garden.
“You shouldn’t be out here at night kid, it’s not…” the demon halted whatever it was about to say when it got a good look at him. Its eyes went large and somehow its pink, wrinkled flesh seemed to gain even more wrinkles as though it had aged in only a few seconds. “You… you can’t be…”
There was a familiar grunt behind Puck and Puck was plucked from the demon’s grasp by two large, firm hands. Puck leaned back slightly, looking up into his surrogate uncle’s face as Lurch gave his best impression of a scowl.
“I’m fine, Lurch. All parts accounted for,” he promised the butler who was gently evaluating and prodding the swollen, red areas on the back of his neck and on the palms of his hand. He then turned back to the demon who was about to give him a lecture, “Thank you, Mr. …?”
“Clem. Just Clem,” the demon said. “Forgive my rude behavior but you look like… someone I used to know but now that I see you up close I realize your cheekbones are more defined and your eyes are a shade lighter than his had been.” Puck felt like a child whose neighbor was reporting to his parents an error he had recently made when the demon looked up at Lurch and said, “Your mate…” Lurch let out a low series of grunts. “Forgive me, your little one was lucky he only ran into a rare Tjorki. They do not eat humans, they prefer other demons, especially vampires, and Sunnydale happens to be crawling with their favorite meal. I think his pale skin and strange clothes confused it, but it would have eventually let him go. Soap and holy water are the only things needed to make the swelling vanish.”
“Oh Lurch, Dear, there you are,” Morticia said as she and Gomez caught up to them.
“Never seen you run so fast, Old Friend,” Gomez commented with a big smile. “We should have you participate in the graveyard hurdle next reunion.”
“I’ll just be going,” Clem said, staging a retreat before Gomez or Morticia could say any greeting.
“Oh look, Gomez. Puck seems to have developed some type of allergy, how wonderful!”
“Spike,” Clem called as he entered the crypt and set the white flowers down next to the picture of Spike’s deceased lover. There was no answer, only reverberation of his voice on the cement and glass. For his friend, he returned every year from LA to Sunnydale around this time. He had hoped Spike’s grief would dull overtime; while it had somewhat, it was obvious that it would take another person to help him forget Alexander. He had no idea how Spike would react the boy he had just met who looked and acted so much like Spike’s Xander. However, if he told him beforehand it would help take off some of the shock.
“Spike,” he called again. When he received no answer yet again, he proceeded to the basement bedroom. Spike was not there either. The remaining black sheets had faded to a dull grey over the years but Spike refused to replace them until they fell apart due to sentimental reasons. However, he made a mental note to make Spike a new quilt to hide them as the current comforter was falling apart.
He went back up to find Spike just coming in through the door. Spike smirked at him and held up a case of beer and a cooler. “Clem! Was wonderin’ when you’d get here. Come ‘ave a drinky, mate. Blood or beer?” he asked as he walked to the fridge to put his stuff away. As he stocked the fridge, he made some small talk, “That Addams girl was at the blood bank. You know the weird bint that was here a few years back? Well she somehow persuaded them to give me the bags that were ALMOST going to expire rather than the ones that already had, so…” Noticing that Clem was not moving other than shifting his weight a little, Spike turned towards him. “What’s wrong, Wrinkles?”
Clem moved a little bit closer. “I… Spike you’re not going to like this… but I… I saw a human who looks like your Alexander about an hour ago…”
Spike didn’t even pause in his stocking. “Don’t worry, mate. I’ve seen humans who look a little like my Harris as well. First time I thought it was him, it near made my heart start beating. But then he turned more towards me and the face was not as handsome as his. It happens. ‘Sides all humans tend to look alike to you blokes anyway.”
“Oh… well, good,” Clem said, slightly embarrassed, “I was afraid of how you would react if you ran into him.”
Spike shrugged his duster off and put it on the arm of the chair. “If I see someone that I mistake for my human, I’m actually pretty happy if I’m able to spot the differences right away. It means I still remember his features exactly and the details haven’t died like they did with my mom. All I can remember is her sickness and her grey-gold hair.”
“I guess I can see that,” Clem said. “He just really startled me. Although, now that I think about it, with that pale skin and those cheekbones he looked like he was a strange combination of the two of you rather than your Alexander.”
Spike snorted, “That musta been interestin’.”
“He was nearly was eaten by confused Tjorki who probably mistook him for a vampire.”
Spike laughed. “You haven’t answered my question mate,” Spike reminded as he held up his own beer.
“Oh… beer thanks. I’m on a diet so I sticking to my kittens.”
“Diet? Got yerself a lady or a trollop?” Spike asked with a grin as he tossed Clem a beer.
“She’s no trollop,” Clem protested. “She’s… amazing.”
“She must be wild for the wrinkles.”
“Why exactly am I your friend again?”
“Cause I’m wild for the bat/ pug look.”
“That is one seriously intense and weird hickey,” Justin said with a smirk to his new roommate as he watched him scrub vigorously at the mark on his neck. “What kind of girl was she?”
“Dark skin, dark eyes, and apparently the type I’m allergic to,” Puck said as Lurch handed him some more holy water his sister had picked up at some place called the Magic Box.
The treatment was helping a little but it still wasn’t going down. With almost all the bottle gone, it looked like he would need to pick more tomorrow.