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Original of the Species Part 5: Glory

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This story is No. 6 in the series "Original of the Species". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Multiple Crossover (mostly DBZ, some SG-1, some Eddingsverse, some new as well) What do you give the Z-Scoobies who just took down Cell? Why, a crazy Hell Goddess of course.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anime > DB/DBZ
Literature > Fantasy > Author: David & Leigh Eddings
Stargate > General > Theme: Multi-Crossovers
MuadzinFR1816169,1674817,51813 Aug 121 Jan 13No

Interlude - Bad Dreams

Interlude

‘Bad Dreams’





AN: The end of the previous dream, set in Back to the Future gave me an idea, which I’m going run with. Doing Back to the Future was enjoyable fun. Didn’t really add anything to the story though, I’ll admit that. This one will, as its become quite integral to the overall story. Don’t like it? You can all suck my ridges! (virtual cookie for who gets the reference ;-) )


She was walking through a dark grim corridor, illuminated by strip lighting protected by heavy grids. As she walked Buffy could hear something things being thrown in the distance, then distant shouting. The shouts were made by hoarse voices, like they had been shouting for a long, long time.

They were walking in a brisk pace, like they wanted to spend as little time in this corridor as possible.

Then the man next to her spoke.

It was Xander.

And yet it wasn’t. He looked older, wearing a pair of glasses.

And a suit.

Xander in a suit. Weirdness personified. It also looked good on him.

“Do not reach through the bars, do not touch the bars. You pass him nothing but soft paper, no pens or pencils. No staples or paperclips in his paper. Use the sliding food carrier, no exceptions. Do not accept anything he attempts to hold out to you. Do you understand me?”

Xander looked at her like he expected an answer. She had no clue what to give him. So she played along.

“I understand,” she said softly.

“I'm going to show you why we insist on such precautions,” Xander continued, “On the afternoon of July 8, 1981, he complained of chest pains and was taken to the dispensary. His mouthpiece and restraints were removed for an EKG. When the nurse bent over him, he did this to her...”

Xander handed Buffy a small, dog-eared photo. Looking at it, she not only stopped in her tracks, she also felt her breakfast coming up back to her mouth for a renewed visit.

“The doctors managed to re-set her jaw,” Xander said clinically, with a slight smile as he enjoyed her discomfort, “more or less, and save one of her eyes. His pulse never got over eighty-five, even when he ate her tongue. I keep him in here.

Xander pushed a button and a steel door buzzes slowly open and a new corridor got revealed and out came Belmovekk. Dressed as an orderly.

“Okay,” Xander said and gestured towards Belmovekk, “This is where I leave. If you need anything, ask Barney here.”

Not sure what to do Buffy took a step towards the corridor when suddenly Xander scraped his throat.

“Ahum.”

Xander extended his arm, handpalm upwards.

“The picture please?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Buffy said and gave Xander his disgusting picture back

“When she's finished, bring her out,” Xander said to Belmovekk. Then he turns and leaves. Belmovekk looks at her and gives a reassuring smile.

Hi, I'm Barney,” Belmovekk said and held out his hand, “He told you, don't get near the bars?”

“Yes,” she said as she shook his hand, “he did.”

“Okay. Past the others,” Belmovekk said and pointed to the end of the corridor, “it's the last cell. Stay to the middle. I put out a chair for you.”

He then pointed towards a nearby security monitor.

“I'm watching. You'll do fine.”

Not sure what to expect Buffy walked into the corridor.

Walking through the corridor Buffy saw surveillance cameras to her right and cells to her left. Inside she could see short sickly Hobbit-like creatures, each dressed in monk’s frocks. Some were stirring indifferent in the darkness, others watched her as she passed by.

Suddenly in the next-to-last cells a dark figure came rushing towards her, his face suddenly pressed against the bars separating him from her.

It was Spike.

“I c-can sssmell your cunt!” Spike hissed with a lecherous grin.

Buffy flinched briefly, but then she walked on. She now had a pretty good idea where she was. And the final cell confirmed it.

The final cell differed from the others because it was both lit and it didn’t have bars. Instead a large plexiglass wall dotted with small holes for ventilation separated it’s occupant from the outside world.

Amidst sparse, bolted-down furniture and charcoal drawings on the wall Angel awaited her.

Scratch that, it wasn’t Angel.

Because she knew Angel intimately and this wasn’t Angel.

It was Angelus.

Which made it more logical as she was now clearly in Silence of the Lambs.

“Dr. Lecter I presume?” she said, causing Angelus to smile a sickly grin, “My name is….”

Would it matter? This was obviously another dream, she didn’t need to stick to the script, right?.

“... My name is Buffy Summers,” she said resolute, “May I talk with you?”

“Good morning,” Angelus smiled in a most cultured tone of voice, which made him all the more creepier. That being said Angelus slash Hannibal Lecter didn’t seem to bugged out by her giving him a different name. Which meant that maybe she was allowed to deviate from the script.

“Look,” she said as she took another step forward, “We’re looking for something. Or somebody. We could use your help.”

“We" being the Behavioral Science Unit at Quantico. You're one of Jack Crawford's, I expect?

“I, uh, am not sure,” Buffy said unsure, “I could be.”

“May I see your credentials?,” Angelus asked. Buffy began to check her pockets and then her handbag. There she found to her surprise an ID card.

Elizabeth Anne Summers
International Council of Watchers

It looked like the dream was interactive after all.

She then held up her ID card.

Closer, please,” Angelus smiled soothingly, ”clo-ser....”

As she came closer Angelus/Lecter’s nostrils lifted, like he was smelling something. Then smiled again and looked at the card.

“Interesting,” he said intrigued, “It would appear that you’re not one of Crawford’s bunch. What does the International Council of Watchers do?”

“Besides wearing tweed a lot,” Buffy said as she put away the ID card, “We hunt monsters.”

“Monsters like me?” Angelus asked curious, then his eyes grew bigger, “Or the ones that go bump in the night?”

“You know?” Buffy exclaimed. To which Angelus shook his head.

“Mmmmm... That's rather slippery of you, Elizabeth Anne Summers, who goes by the name Buffy,” Angelus said and pointed to a folding chair not far from Buffy, “Sit. Please.”

Buffy took the folding chair put in front of Angelus/Lecter’s cell and sat down. All the while Angelus waited politely till she was seated down, then he sat down himself, facing her happily.

“Now then,” he asked, “What did Miggs say to you?”

Buffy gave him a puzzled look.

“’Multiple Miggs’," Angelus said and pointed to the cell besides him, “in the next cell. He hissed at you. What did he say?”

“He said – ‘I can smell your cunt’," she said.

“I see,” Angelus nodded, I myself cannot. You use Evyan skin cream, and sometimes you wear L'Air du Temps, but not today. You brought your best bag, though, but you’re not really a hand bag sort of person aren’t you?”

Oh, he was going to profile her. This could be fun.

“Yes,” she said.

“You’re a strange mix, Buffy Summers,” Angelus continued, “On the one hand you appear to be a stylish young girl, wearing $200 shoes. On the other hand you’re all about practicality, as little of your other clothing is really frivolous. Unfortunately nature has poorly cheated you in the heights department. Which is probably why you resort to those ridiculously high heeled shoes to compensate for it.

“Your accent points you as Southern California. Judging by your looks at one time you were probably one of those cute cheerleaders. The way you move hints at great physical prowess, and what I can tell your muscles are superbly toned. I’d say that you have given up on cheerleading for martial arts instead.”

“While your body speaks of great physical confidence your eyes tell a different story. You suffered great pains, both in the past and more recently. There is little of your confidence left. Tell me of your pains, Buffy Summers.”

Wow, she thought impressed, he really is Sherlock Holmes wrapped in a neat psychopathic package. Not sure what to say her eyes fell on one of his drawings. It was the drawing that Angelus had once made of her when she was sleeping. When he was in his psychotic stalker phase.

“Did you do those drawings, Doctor?” she asked, pointing at the picture of her.

“Yes” he said.

“Who is she?” she asked curious.

“Just a girl I once knew,” he said dismissive, “What is your pain, Buffy Summers of the International Council of Watchers?”

“Who says I even have a pain?” she countered, “Other then you trying to mess with my head?”

He gave her a disapproving look.

“Come now,” he said, “Don’t insult my intelligence. Did you lose anyone? A close relative, a parent perhaps?”

She must have given a reaction because he suddenly began to smirk.

“A parent it is, I see. Could it be…. your mother?”

Again she involuntarily gave away a reaction encouraging him on.

“So your mother passed away,” he continued, “How interesting. Was she the soul of your little family? Yes she was, wasn’t she? Why was she the soul of your family? Could it be that she was single? Did she divorce your father? No, that’s not it, isn’t it? It was your father who left you and your mother, didn’t he? He went away and left the both of you. Did he even show up for her funeral? I can see that he didn’t. How does that make you feel, Buffy Summers? Does it make you feel…. angry?”

“Look, you creep,” Buffy exploded, “Enough with the Freudtalk. You’re supposed to be this brilliant psychopath. Help me find this Beast that’s stalking my sister.”

“You know, you were doing fine until your little outburst,” he said frowning, “you'd been courteous and receptive to courtesy, you'd established trust with the embarrassing truth about Miggs, and now this sudden outburst? It's stupid and boring.”

“I don’t believe it!” Buffy exclaimed, “You’re in my subconscious, you’re just a figment of my imagination. Why can’t you for once tell it to me straight?”

“My, you’re a feisty one, aren’t you,” Angelus/Lecter grinned, “All sassy and full of girrrrrl power. Temper, temper. You know, you may be able to blow up planets outside, but in here it will get you nowhere.

Resisting the urge to smash through the plexi glass Buffy bottled up her anger. From what she knew of the movie the reason Hannibal and Clarice worked so well together was because she was both vulnerable and respectful. Plus she gave the doctor tidbits of her personal life.

“Tell me about your sister,” Angelus/Lecter suddenly asked, “The one this beast is after.”

“So you’re going to help me?” Buffy asked hopeful.

“I said nothing of the kind, Elizabeth,” Angelus/Lecter said amiably.

“It’s Buffy,” Buffy corrected.

“Buffy is such a vulgar name,” Angelus/Lecter denounced, “It’s a name for pornographic actresses, not a fine young lady like yourself.”

“Hey, I like it,” Buffy protested.

“Why is that, Elizabeth?” Angelus/Lecter countered, “Thrill me with your wisdom”

“Because it was my father who came up with that when I was little, okay?” Buffy said a little annoyed.

“So its just you clinging to your last connection to the father who abandoned you?” Angelus/Lecter said, sounding somewhat disappointed, “That is… so common?”

“Sorry to be a disappointment,” Buffy said not sorry at all, “How about that Beast? How am I going to stop that?”

“Tell me about your sister,” Angelus/Lecter said again.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Buffy exclaimed exasperated, “I already gave you some personal information about my name.”

“That was just polite interest,” Angelus/Lecter said dismissive, “Tell me about your sister.”

“No!” Buffy said resolute, “No more private tidbits for you to masturbate over. Not until I get something useful about the Beast.”

“The Beast wants your sister, Elizabeth,” Angelus/Lecter said with silken voice, “That makes it very pertinent to the case.”

“It’s Buffy,” Buffy stated obstinate.

“Tell me about your sister, Elizabeth,” Angelus/Lecter smiled undeterred.

“I’m not sure where to begin,” Buffy said a little hesitant.

“Why not start where all stories start?” Angelus/Lecter suggested, “At the start?”

“I’m not sure where the story exactly started,” Buffy said unsure, “There’s time travel involved.”

“I see,” Angelus/Lecter mused, “That does complicate things. Alright, let’s start with the relevant issue. Why does the Beast covet your sister.”

“I don’t know,” Buffy said, “I was hoping you could tell me. Something to do with her being the Key.”

“So witless,” Angelus/Lecter sighed dejected, “Alright, next step, what is the Key and what is the connection to your sister?”

“We don’t know either,” Buffy said shaking her head, “It’s energy. It’s supposed to open doors and they made it into my sister.”

“For somebody who claims she knows nothing you seem to know more then you think,” Angelus/Lecter said, “Are you sure you know nothing?”

“There’s no need to be insulting,” Buffy said snide.

“You're a tough one, aren't you?” Angelus/Lecter said rueful, “Just not so tough on thinking and taking criticisms. You should really work on that. You may never know when it comes in handy.”

“This isn’t working out,” Buffy said as she stood up, “Goodbye, have a nice life rotting in here and just so you know, the sequel sucked.”

“Well, in that case, goodbye Elizabeth,” Angelus/Lecter said as he turned around and returned to his cot, “I hope you find this Beast you’re looking for. Before it finds you.”

Buffy turned around and walked away.

“Stupid cannibal,” she muttered softly under her breath, “Stupid dream! Why’s it always these stupid movies? Why can’t it ever be something nice? Why not Sleepless in Seattle? Or When….”

She had barely taken a few steps when she saw Spike again, sheer madness in his eyes.

“I b-bit my wrist so I c-can diiiieeee!” Spike hissed, “S-ee how it bleeeeeeeeds?

Suddenly Spike flashed his wrist towards her and something spatters on her face. Halting she wipes some off her face and looks it. It was……. Gross! Semen!

EEEEEW!!!!!

“Buffy Summers…. Buffy Summers!”

Turning around she saw it was Angelus/Lecter calling her. She could see he looked livid, absolutely enraged for a moment, then he regains his composure and she walked back to him.

“I would not have had that happen to you,” he said almost…. apologetic, “Discourtesy is…. unspeakably ugly to me.”

“Help me,” Buffy said, “Tell me who this damned Beast is that’s stalking my sister. For once, drop the damn cryptic!”

“I am not allowed too,” he said shaking his head, “This is a road you must walk by yourself. And it wouldn’t do you any good anyway. You wouldn’t be able to see her unless it’s with the right light. She has that ability. It is imperative that you must protect the sister! Be the Hero!”

Then Angelus smirked again.

“Go. I don't think Miggs could manage again so soon, even if he is crazy - do you?”





AN: You know what to do, right?
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