(the Girl Guide Remix)
Fandom(s): Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Word Count: 2,650 words
Rating: Teen and older audiences
Note: Sheila might be a vampire. But that doesnt mean she cant help out.
Inspired by Than Meets the Eye.
There are two yous.
Life is about fun and violence. Drinking, dancing, sex, necks snapping, crazy parties, hot guys, screams, blood, fast cars, loud music, sweet victims, rushing death. Its sweet and sour, hard and fast, exactly what it should be.
The guys are fun to dance with, fun to screw, and fun to eat. Mostly they dont even get time to scream but occasionally you draw it out, just for the fun of watching the look on their faces. Then theres the chicks, who are so quick to dismiss you (eyes rolling, hair tossing), and then so quick to cry and beg. So quick to crush. So cute.
And theres death, destruction, dancing, rocking, booze, blood, the hunt, the kill, the rush, its all noise and hunger, clawing crashing racing hurting, hurting so good, its toxic, enthralling, perfect madness and wonderful chaos
Then, one day, you realise you cant stop.
In health class back at school, once they did this preaching sob story about beer, ecstasy, and everything else worth trying, and how addiction was this little monster, right, drawn in blue marker on Turners whiteboard, and the more its fed the more it grows until its dragging the stick figure person along behind it, all the way over to the side of the whiteboard marked DEATH, and the point was that the addiction monster was too big to control so it controlled people instead. You put your feet up on the desk and informed the room that the addiction monster was a wimp, and should go ahead and slit the guys throat right there, rather than dragging him the whole way, and then you flipped Turner the bird, she gave you detention, and there went another long day at Squares and Losers High.
But now, youre remembering that.
Its like theres this thing inside you, drawing you on. The violence. The hunger. Its you its all you but its almost like its not you, because you cant quite hold it back.
You hate being controlled.
So, like, three nights later, theres some kid lost in the mall (Who lets their kid wander alone in Sunnydale, for fucks sake? Idiot.) and hes ripe and ready, probably a screamer, perfect start to the evening. And every part of you wants to do what you do so well so you walk over, take his hand, walk him over to the security desk, say Hey this kid needs to find his mom, smile, and walk away.
If that controlling bit doesnt want to do it and it doesnt, its screaming for blood then its gotta be all you. For sure.
Client: Melanie Tomlinson
claims MBA program (UC Sunnydale), 2 days/week plus alt. weekends
turned up to class
floozy, red dress, long hair, lipstick
temptation 1, matrimony 0
Hes not a regular not just because you havent seen him around before, but because hes not a guy whod be a regular. Too old, for one. The clothes say outsider; the attitude says new in town which also means victim; but the scars and calluses say cop. No, not cop P.I.
Hes watching Dagmar shes at the bar, toying with another boy toy with a look thats part lust, part curiosity. Rookie.
Bad-you fed an hour ago and isnt too hungry, but still rears up inside you, wanting to take him, fool him, kill him, leave him in the gutters. But good-you hasnt gone girl-scout in nearly a month, so its time to play again.
You put down your glass, and saunter over.
Dont let em roll outta your head, Pops. Crowd in here, youd never find em before they got stepped on.
He jumps half out of his skin, but plays it cool. Sorry, miss?
You nod in Dagmars direction. Wouldnt get my hopes up there; shes way past your speed, and looks like shes already got one on the line.
The, er, the young woman in the ?
In the spray-on outfit, right. You grin. And hes hooked bad-you is on alert, calculating how much you need to play it to get him out the door and into your fangs. Good-you plays it cool.
He looks at you carefully. Then youre acquainted with the lady in question?
Keep the drinks coming, Pops, and Ill tell you whatever you want to know about her. Stuff you wouldnt believe, even.
Another careful look but hes looking at your expression, your outfit, your eyes. Hasnt checked the skin-tone. Hasnt counted how much youre breathing. Hasnt noticed that youre on edge, leaning in, smelling the faint whiff of a fresh meal that would be so good to rip into
Newbie. He wont last ten minutes in this town. Not without some help.
Joe will do.
Yeah, whatever. You lean forward. What Im saying is, you want to be careful with Dagmar. I mean radioactive careful. Telephoto lenses, parabolic microphones, never let yourself get within a city block unless theres a crowd around. Hell, strike that. Never that close no matter what.
He frowns. And your name is ?
Call me Megan.
I used my real name, he says, pointedly.
Yeah, well, youre a visitor. And bad-you wants to vamp out just to see him freak. You push it down, and stay serious. Youre outta your territory here, Pops. You may be the top lion in your own patch of jungle, but this is a whole different playing field. And even worse if you dont know it.
He takes a sip of beer. I think youll find I can deal with different patches of jungle pretty well.
Not this kind. Unless Okay. Somebody rings your doorbell at three in the morning, you open up, and its me. I ask if I can come in. What do you do before you invite me inside?
The guys clueless. Id offer you a drink, but that would be after I let you in.
Thats what I thought. Itll be so easy. Take him home, take a drink, maybe tie him up for a few days, see how long he lasts once youre cutting into him, how long he can hold on when hes drowning in fear
Its not in control. Its not going to be.
You grin again. And I might take you up on the offer, but not right now. Trust me on this, Pops, this is one jungle where youre gonna need a guide.
He looks at you carefully. And why would you do that for me?
For money. Why else?
long hair, lipstick
temptation 1, matrimony 0
$50 per day
$200 bonus every time she saves my life
dont go walking alone at night
dont go into cemeteries
eat garlic pizza (?)
carry some wood (?)
By the next night, youre starving.
You grabbed a quick snack after dropping Joe home thank god for people working the night shift and you were just thinking how much easier it would be, dealing with him if youd had a full three courses beforehand, when it hit you: it would be easier. Easier is against the rules.
Bad-you swore yourself silly, but good-you left her lying there sweet, tasty blood dripping onto the sidewalk and went home hungry.
Youre still hungry.
Joe opens the door, looking incredibly tasty (for an old grumpy guy). He raises an eyebrow and asks So what was it Im supposed to do before inviting you in?
Nice memory. Motel. Doesnt apply here, you say, and saunter in. Hes got all his gear laid out on the table: lots of electronic stuff, and a couple of guns. Whats with the Rambo junk?
He starts explaining it all, and you nod along for a while, bad-you wishing you could start testing out his equipment on his face and work downwards from there. He finishes, finally: Any questions?
Not so much. You move half the stuff down the other end of the table. These are okay. Not the microphone shell hear the noise its making. And no guns although maybe the shotgun. It makes big holes in shit, right?
Look, sweetheart, the only sound that would be coming off that microphone would be ultrasonic. Not even a dog could
Hey Grandpa, stick to your own job and let me do mine, okay? He nods, slowly. Youll want the camera. Definitely the night-vision goggles. And do you have a flamethrower, or something?
The plans simple: Joe will follow the guy hes trying to frame, and youll follow Dagmar. (Shes not Joes mark, and even though itd be really fucking funny watching him go after her, good-you isnt letting him near her.) So you split up and you head to The Fish Tank, to spend your whole evening surrounded by snack food youre not allowed to touch. Oh joy.
eat garlic pizza (?)
carry some wood (?)
do they even sell flamethrowers?
Pauls car (1)
turned up to class
upscale apartment block
photos: entrance to restaurant
photos: leaving restaurant
photos: arrival at condo
At ten-thirty, you call him.
Hey. No sign of Dagmar so far.
No, thats fine. Shes here. Just arrived at his place, so once I get a bit of conversation on tape, Im done.
Youre using that microphone? I told you
Hey no problem. I broke in and planted some bugs around his pad.
You WHAT??? How can someone so off his nut still be breathing? Get the hell out of there! Right now!
He says Right, tersely, and hangs up which at least shows hes got some brain cells working. You swear, loudly, slam down the phone, and start running. Youve got to get four blocks fast enough to save Mister Oh-I-Know-Ill-Break-In-And-Leave-My-Scent-Everywhere-So-The-Evil-Vampires-Can-Track-Me-Down before Dagmar tears his head in half.
Good-you growls the whole way there, pointing out that youd better get some mega brownie-points for doing this. Way too much effort for one lousy human.
Big fucking miracle hes still standing when you get there. Barely. Theres blood dripping down his face, and one legs definitely sprained if its not broken. But hes still trying to fight back. And as much as youre not into fighting other vampires, Dagmars so distracted that you dive in and stake her before she even knows youre there.
No food for two nights, a wounded old guy to take care of, and now youre gonna have to stay quiet until Dagmars minions give up on looking for you. Just brilliant.
Joe lies there coughing, then looks up. Thanks. What was that she did a flash-bomb or something?
She yeah. Flash-bomb. She wont be coming back for a while. You shrug. You owe me three-hundred fifty bucks.
He doesnt argue. You help him up. Want me to take you to hospital, or ?
Just back to the motel. I can manage from there.
You frown, uncertain which he misreads. Ill pay you once we get there. And hey you saved his life; nurse-maiding him isnt your problem. So you lift him into his car, and get going.
His car is a piece of crap and your drivings actually not much better but the motels not far. And then youre so focused on getting him up the steps that it takes ages to realise somethings off.
And its her.
Hey, dont let me interrupt, she says, perky as always. Oh, no, wait, thats exactly what I wanted.
Bad-you is frozen, ready to run. Good-you is more used to solving problems the hard way. I got to get him upstairs.
Really. Shes not impressed.
Joe glances at you both, with no clue whats going on, but prepared to play-act. Honey, we should keep going. Dont want to keep your old grandpa waiting on a cold night, do you dear? Not with my arthritis acting up
Buffy narrows her eyes. If this is another one of those bites-for-cash operations, youre in for a really bad night. Or didnt you hear about the last one?
Screw this. Look, blondie, can you chill a little? Im not in your orbit, and this guy really does need some help.
A moments pause, and then she finally recognises you. She laughs. Sheila? All this time I thought youd had enough brains to keep on running till you hit an ocean.
Yeah, well I like it here. And if you really want to fight me Im up for it, but Im telling you Im not your scene.
Miss, Joe interrupts. I dont know what your grudge is against this young lady, but Id appreciate it if you could save it for some other time.
She frowns. You really dont know?
He doesnt know anything, you say, pointedly. Ive been hanging round the last three nights, now. So unless you really have a problem with me making sure people stay alive, back off.
Another frown, and then she leans back on Joes car and folds her arms. Okay, Im lost. So convince me.
And you werent expecting to ever try this, but hey its going to sound a hell of a lot more convincing when youre not clutching a mangled body and dripping blood from your fangs, so if theres ever going to be a good time
Look, I dont really get it myself but I dont act like the rest of the cold crowd. Im not just an evil bloodsucker.
Buffy raises an eyebrow. So, what youve been living off fresh air and sunshine?
No way. I drink, I just dont leave any dead bodies behind me. Not for the last few nights, anyway. And, thank god, youre not one for signing your kills, so shell never be able to prove you wrong.
Shes skeptical. Why not?
Look, I like being intact, you know? Dust isnt my thing. I got my own routine and Ive made sure it doesnt set me against you. You fold your arms. Or are you really going to kill me just for existing?
And youre what? Helping this guy out of the goodness of your non-beating heart?
Any problem with that?
She considers it, then turns back to Joe. Shes been helping you out? Really? She hasnt tried anything?
And Joe, thank god, tells it flat-out. Im here on business. Shes been very helpful as a guide and assistant, and not thirty minutes ago she saved my life. Hes looking at Buffy like shes one step away from crazy axe murderer. She keeps telling me Im out of my depth in this town, and Im starting to believe it, but look she stood by me. I wont run out on her.
Buffy nods, slowly. Then she steps up, gets right in your face, and says Okay. You get the benefit of the doubt. Once. Next time I might not be in such a good mood.
Sure, whatever. A lifetime of not giving a crap makes it easy not to show how tense you were. You turn, start helping Joe upstairs again, and dont even watch her go.
That is one seriously disturbed young woman, Joe mutters. And hes so on the money, but good-you is still in play, so you shake your head. Dont worry any about her, Pops. Shes saved your life a lot more times than I have.
photos: leaving restaurant
photos: arrival at condo
Dagmar gone, following attack
bruised ribs, cut forehead, sprained ankle, gash on collarbone
two nights of notes
photos as evidence
$350 to Megan
$278 other expenses
Next time, youre just going to rescue a puppy. Way less time-consuming.
| Next Remix | Previous Remix | Fanfic Index |