Subj: Fear (Buffy/DS Xover) Chapter 2
Date: 8/13/99 6:55:23 AM Central Daylight Time
From: Matthew Griffin

Buffy The Vampire Slayer/Dark Shadows
Fear
CHAPTER 2

Xander peered around in the dark. “I don’t think we’re in Sunnydale anymore, Buff.”

“Somehow,” Buffy said, “I think you’re right.” She turned to the coffin. “And I have a pretty good idea what’s in that--” she cut herself off as she heard a door open at the top of the large stone steps. “Quick, hide!” she whispered.

The five of them frantically crammed themselves into a cold, dusty alcove.

“Oh, yeah, this is gonna work,” Cordelia said, her voice icy with sarcasm.

“Shut up--” Buffy stopped as she saw a flashlight shining directly into her eyes. “Uh... hi?” she smiled feebly.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” the woman at the other end of the flashlight said. Her voice was rough, her hair the same flame color as Willow’s.

Xander stepped forward, puffing his chest out. “I think the real question here is what are you doing here!”

“You have to get out of here. Now,” the woman said. “And never mention this to anyone.”

“It’s too late for that, lady,” Buffy said. “Whoever’s in that coffin is going ‘Poof!’ and you-- my God, that outfit!” She looked at the woman's knee length gray skirt and jacket. “ Geez, how about something a little less revealing there, it’s shameful!”

The woman looked stunned. “You-- you know of the existence of-- vampires?”

Buffy shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, yeah, I kill ‘em. It’s my job: ‘Unto each generation a slayer is--”

Xander interrupted her, wrapping his arms around Buffy and Willow’s shoulders and yanking them to him in a hug as he said, “And we’re the Slayerettes!” He gestured to himself and Willow. “Willow casts the spells and does the smart stuff, and I go get ingredients, donuts, and make clever wisecracks!” The woman looked unimpressed, her gaze steely. “You know, ‘No fun and all slay make Buffster go cra-zyyyy!”

Still the woman remained serious.

“She’s not laughing!” he whispered. “Why isn’t she laughing, Wil?”

Willow patted him on the shoulder. “It’ll be all right, just take some deep breaths...”

Xander’s eyes took a far away look. “It was as if a thousand pop-culture references cried out in terror-- and then were suddenly silenced.”

Buffy pulled a long wooden stake from the pocket of her jeans. “All right, lady, you just stay right there and I’ll get this done.”

“No! You can’t! Please!” the woman exclaimed.

Buffy pushed back the heavy wooden lid of the coffin with ease, revealing the calm, sleeping face of a man appearing to be in his forties, his dark hair meticulously combed. “I can, and I’m about to.”

Buffy rose the stake high above her head. As the stake began to quickly arc downward, the woman exclaimed, “No! Barnabas, he-- he’s not like them!!”

The stake came to a full stop in mid-air as one word thrust itself into Buffy’s mind, just as she had been about to thrust the stake into the demon’s heart:
Angel. Buffy turned to the woman, her face dark and troubled, her voice low. “What do you mean?”

The woman took a deep breath, obviously relieved. “Barnabas, he isn’t-- evil. Not like the rest of them.”

Buffy suddenly noticed a sharp pain in her hand and realized the woman was staring. She looked down to see a drop of her own blood sliding down the stake, splintered in her grip. She slowly, deliberately opened her fingers and let the shattered weapon fall to the floor. “Who are you?”

“My name is Julia Hoffman. The man you were about to kill is Barnabas Collins. I’m his doctor, “ the woman said.

“His doctor?”

“Yes,” Julia continued. “For years, we have been working to cure him. A few times, we have even succeeded--”

“You mean-- you can cure vampirism?” This time, it was not a word, but a vision that filled her mind. Standing on a roof on Christmas Eve with Angel, screaming, pleading with him not to face the sun. His dark, brooding face torn with pain, then the two of them walking through the snow, the sun unable to burst through the dark clouds even though dawn was long past. She was clutching the lid of the coffin, her tiny fingers leaving small indentions in the wood. She let go of it and crossed to her friends, hugging herself against the cold that had crept into the very marrow of her bones.

Julia nodded. “More than once. But, each time something has caused him to relapse into his... former condition.” Something suddenly changed in Julia’s face, as if she realized she had said too much, especially to these strange teenagers who had no business there in the first place! “I’ve answered you. Now, tell me--”

“Who are you?”

Xander nearly jumped out of his skin, startled, and they all turned to see Barnabas Collins standing beside his coffin, scowling. He was impeccably dressed, his gray suit unwrinkled even though he had slept in it. In one hand, he held a long, dark wooden cane, it’s top carved into a golden wolf’s head; his other hand rested on the purple velvet lining of the coffin.

Xander laughed nervously. “Who’s she? She’s Buffy! The Buffster, Slay-Gal, the-”

“I think he gets it,” Cordelia quipped.

Barnabas turned angrily to Julia. “How did they get here?”

“I-I don’t know, Barnabas. They were here when I arrived!”

He turned to them, his gaze serious, questioning. “It’s a funny story, really,” Buffy said, smiling to try to relieve the tension.

“Some blue light, ended up here,” Oz said simply.

“Ok, so it wasn’t that funny...” Buffy said, eyebrows drawing together. “But there has to be some reason we ended up here.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to leave here to find out what that reason is,” Barnabas said grimly, and bared his fangs, starting towards them menacingly. Buffy reached for something, anything, to defend her friends with. Nothing; except for the broken stake behind Barnabas. Buffy launched herself off the ground, somersaulting over him, landing in a crouch beside the stake lying on the floor next to the pedestal. She seized the sharpest piece and spun back around to face her attacker-- only to find him advancing on Willow. “Great,” Buffy muttered under her breath. “Just couldn’t do the normal thing and attack me, could you?”

Barnabas grabbed Willow’s arms, pulling her neck close to him. Somehow, she managed to wrench her arm free, and ripped the pentacle pendant she wore off her neck, thrusting it forward. “Back!” she said. “I command you! Recessus! Impero tibi!”

And suddenly, for a fleeting moment, the hand that held the pentacle was no longer thin,pale and soft, but strong and dark brown. He looked up to her face and saw, instead of her short red hair, long dark locks falling down past her shoulders, her dark face commanding him.

“Magda,” he whispered, and he could not move. Then, he blinked and as quickly as the vision had come, it was gone, as if a veil had suddenly dropped over his inner vision. And she was simply a helpless girl once more. Barnabas knocked the pendant from her hand, and grabbed her, tighter this time, so she could not escape.

Xander rushed at him, bellowing, and felt himself knocked violently through the air by the wolf’s-head cane, as Oz did when he charged a split-second later. Barnabas bent over her, his neck mouth open. He pressed his lips to her neck, he felt the soft, firm flesh of her throat start to give beneath the razor points of his teeth as they slowly penetrated it, he felt the artery, pumping, throbbing beneath his lips, about to burst and spill forth her blood as his fangs began to slice it-- And then he felt himself violently ripped away, strong fingers digging into his shoulders and slamming his back into the hard stone of the wall. Barnabas heard his spine crack against the wall; he looked down and saw his feet dangling several inches above the ground. Buffy was there, poised to put the stake through his heart. She heard Julia’s words echo in her mind: He’s not like them. No, Buffy though. It doesn’t matter! He tried to hurt Wil! But that moment of hesitation cost her, and Barnabas planted the sole of his shoe squarely into her abdomen, sending her reeling, the stake flying from her hand. He brought his cane down on her, but she caught it in both hands, ripped it from his grasp and spun around, slamming it hard into the backs of his knees; he fell to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Buffy came down hard, pinning him to the ground. She snatched the stake off the floor and raised it over his chest. She brought the stake down. “STOP!”

A woman’s voice cut through the air, and with it a force like an invisible battering ram, slamming into Buffy and knocking her off from on top of Barnabas. But whether it was a separate force or simply the power of the woman’s words, Buffy did not know. The woman stood there in a long onyx cloak that clung to the curves of her body. Long, blonde locks fell to her shoulders, framing an exquisite face with high cheekbones. There was a gleam in her crystal blue-lavender eyes, a sparkle of danger-- perhaps even madness.

“Hominahominahomina,” Xander panted.

The woman smiled wryly. “You asked why you are here. Well, I shall tell you. I brought you here. We need your help-- or the world as we know it will end!”

Cordelia rolled her eyes, exasperated, and murmured, “I knew this would happen...”