harsens_rob (harsens_rob) wrote in spanderverse,

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Preludes, chapter 6 of 8

Disclaimer: Legal stuff, don't own characters, haven't made any money, this is for entertainment purposes, no profit earned, lawyers go away. –kisses-

POV: Shifts Perspective

Spoiler Alert: There are tidbits from past episodes and Spanderverse: stories.

Notes: Sixth story in the Spanderverse-universe, following “Spanderverse: Confusion of Three”. Everything from the television series through the defeat of Adam also occurred as depicted, in the Spanderverse.

People’s thoughts are depicted in italics. You’ll find emphasis depicted with an underline.

Thanks to the authors of Fanfiction, wherever you may post. It’s probable that I’ve read at least one of your stories somewhere. I apologize for recycling concepts inadvertently from the plentitude of stories I’ve read.




Ch 6- The Walk


Buffy walked at the side of the doctor, Douglas Wains, as he led her to her mother's waiting room. Although he was not aware of her scrutiny, her eyes had probed every detail of his appearance desperately looking for any sign of what was to come.


He was somewhat handsome, though on the other side of middle age. She'd noted first his manner; it was unhurried and casual. Buffy realized that as a doctor he'd probably always appeared this way, however, as a matter of professional detachment. She quickly dismissed his surface and focused her Slayer senses on his physicality. His coat was crisp and relatively smooth; his face showed no signs to her sight of creases or tension. She took a step behind him and in his wake took a deep, slow breath but could not detect the sour trace of adrenaline. To all appearances, he was as calm as he seemed which allowed her to release the ton of weight that had sat on her shoulders.


She was now a bit disturbed that her automatic response had been as the Slayer and not the daughter.


"Your mother states that she's had no illnesses, lately. Is there anything you can add regarding her behavior or health before today?"


Dr. Wains' voice shook her attention back toward the circumstances she found herself in.


"Uh, no, she hasn't been sick at all. Except for headaches… um, she's had a lot of headaches. But she runs a gallery almost single-handed… I mean," Buffy voice lost strength as the fear began again, "I-it's just, you know, stress. Right?"


"And how long has she been having these headaches?" The Doctor's voice remained calm and soothing; the professional use doctors probably took classes on in college, but the slight tremor of concern couldn't be hid from her Slayer hearing.


"It's been, um," Buffy mentally kicked her self for being so stupid. Joyce had been having headaches for months. Yeah, they'd been off and on, and usually some aspirin and a nap had made her mother her usual self, but still….


It had been months and Buffy, her doting daughter, had just blown it off while she focused on her own stuff. She should have insisted sooner that Joyce make an appointment. She should have known that stress didn’t cause the sort of frequent bouts of pain that her mom had suffered in the last several weeks, if not from the beginning.


"Ms. Summers?"


"Huh? Oh! Sorry, I'm just, uh, trying to think. Um, it's been a few months… but not all the time or anything! Just, y'know, off and on and aspirin has been taking care of it."


"Okay, well…."


The doctor came to a halt outside a non-descript door. Its surface was a very chocolaty-milk sort of brown. It was probably supposed to be soothing, but Buffy found it nauseating.


Dr. Wains continued his thought, tapping his chin, "We'll keep her overnight for observation, mostly. Do a few simple tests… we should see the results of the blood we took when she was admitted in a few hours."


"You don't think… I mean, it's not serious? I mean it was just headaches."


"Now isn't the time to start panicking. Stress can cause frequent headaches and since your mother hasn't experienced any other gross symptoms, that's probably all it was. I'll schedule a stress test while we're at it. I am a little bit concerned that in addition to these headaches, however, that we've now had an episode. Your mom is claiming that she didn't have much of an appetite today, and not eating could have caused her faint. It's just too soon to let your mind start worrying over what will probably turn out to be a relatively simple and easily-treated condition." After waving her toward the doorway they stood outside of (which Buffy now noticed had a manila folder hung on the wall with the word, 'SUMMERS, J.' in blue ink) he gave her a small smile and then continued down the hallway.




Glorificus stood in a hallway of solid stone blocks peering in impatience at her minions. They were engaged in fierce hand to hand combat with the ugly-dressed monks of the place, and she was growing quickly bored with it all. You'd think the monks would just turn over what they guarded; after all it belonged to her. But no, instead the rude and selfish men were trying to keep her trapped in this tiny, smelly, dirty dimension.


Her thoughts were interrupted when two clerics, somehow overlooked by her servants rushed up toward her. Skidding to a stop, they began to chant at her as her amusement grew.


"Really, boys… this is all so unnecessary if you would just hand over my Key."


Instead, one of the clerics began to yell at her, "…do God's jméno, my kontrolovat!" (1)


Golden light left the cleric's hand and enveloped her in its glow. She was at first delighted at the pretty golden light they were showering her in. If only her own scabby losers would treat her in such a way. However, this quickly became annoyance as the light separated into filaments and began to bind tightly around her. Obviously, this wasn't a worshipper type spell after all, just another lame attack by a bunch of small, lame fleshbags.


As Glorificus became distracted by the golden aura encasing her, the second cleric had taken one step toward her. He held in his hands a large silver staff. Atop this sat a ruby encrusted crucifix, its deep red splendor catching the surrounding torch light.


The robed man, looking at least sixty, was hunched and fragile looking. His voice however boomed in the enclosed space; strong and sure: "Dovolená tato bydliště, Neštěstí Jeden!" (2)


Glory stretched out her arms in a wide circle from her body and the glowing and binding filaments easily broke and returned to wherever they'd been summoned from. She looked over at the two monks, now pale with fear, and smiled in a way that held no warmth or welcome at all.


" JÁ am prospěch obtěžoval," she said lightly. As the eldest of the clerics, the one with the staff ordered the younger away, Glory started marching toward them. (3)


As she approached striking distance, the old holy man swung the heavy staff. At the same time he yelled, "Pevnost!" (4)


As the staff hit her, Glory actually felt the blow as if she'd been smashed with a wall. Glaring at the old fool, she slapped him across his bony face. Such was the blow that the now-former monk and cleric's head twisted so that it now looked directly behind him.


As she continued following the narrow passage downward, she yelled to her servants. She was in a pissy mood now, thanks to that stupid old man and her minions recognized the menace in her tone, "Kill everyone, and god-damn it, find that Key!"




In the Magic Box the following day, Giles was busy checking over shelves, incessantly sweeping the floor and generally annoying Xander and Anya. Those two were there to finish up the pre-opening preparations of Giles' new venture.


Anya happily marked prices, one arm still in its sling. The pain medication for her shoulder was adding to her giddiness, leaving her feeling a pleasant buzz. Even the label gun sounded happy as it click and wound out its price tabs. Occasionally, in annoyance, she would leave for the area Giles had just swept through and rearrange the items that he'd just disturbed. Mostly, however, she was happy. Tomorrow the shop would be officially open for business and the thought of all the green paper that would be flying through her hands had her giggling to herself whenever it crossed her mind.


Xander was having a less amusing time. Between Giles constantly looking over his shoulder and the problem shelf he was trying to get flush in its grooves, he was more of the gnashing-of-the-teeth mood. Mostly however, his irritation was Giles-related. His steady 'reminders' about the doors (They need to be reinforced, Xander. Let's not forget that, all right?), and his buzzing around 'checking that the shelves are level', had Xander starting to regret he'd offered to build them in the first place.


"Xander, how is the shelf coming? It will be done, won't it? How can I have a section on fertility idols without a shelf to hold them? Oh, dear, maybe I should delay the opening a few days? The flyers! I'll have to go and try to collect all those flyers… I knew I should have left those for the last minute!"


Xander took a deep breath and gazed longingly at the hammer he held. Would it be so bad? Maybe he'd enjoy the short nap?


As Giles reached around him to jiggle the shelf that for some reason refused to fit properly, Xander was nearing the end of his rope. "Giles! Relax, willya? Everything is going to be fine. I'm going to create a wedge that'll be invisible to the viewing public. Everything will be completed on time and on budget… which by the way was free for you. So… please … I'm begging you. Go away."


As Giles was about to, no doubt, remind Xander… again… about his timetable, Buffy, Willow and Tara entered the shop. His attention was immediately shifted to his Slayer and Xander was able to breathe a sigh of relief.




End Ch 6


Notes: Czech is translated from online. Anyone who speaks Czech and can offer refinements; please…

1 - 'in God's name, we command!'

2 - 'Leave this place, Evil One'

3- 'I am getting annoyed'

4 - 'Strength!'

Tags: btvs, buffy, fanfiction, harsens-rob, spander, spanderverse
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