thedeadlyhook | Jack the Giant Killer, Part 3

It's clear that I really should stop predicting either time or length to anything I write. This is not the last part. One more, I should think. But take that with a grain of salt. These things, they grow organically.

Disclaimer, Summary: See Part 1.
Rating: PG-13.

__________

Though here you lodge with me this night,
You shall not see the morning light;
My club shall dash your brains out quite.

__________

And so it was that Buffy, the not-princess, and Spike, her not-prince, and the giant of the frozen north prepared themselves for the challenges. To take each other's measure.

They sat in a circle, as if around a campfire.

"Okay, so how's this work?" Buffy asked.

"I give you a challenge, and then you see if you can do it," the giant explained amiably. "That's simple, isn't it?"

"How do we decide who does what?" Spike asked. He was leaning back in an exaggerated lounging pose, propped up on one arm. Thanks to the alchohol, he was now limber enough to manage an illusion of normal movement, although he still couldn't have walked or fought. A vulnerability he knew enough, at least, not to advertise.

"However you want. Just as long as one of you does it. And before you ask why I get to set the challenges, I'll remind you that this is my home, and you're uninvited guests."

"Guests?" Buffy echoed.

The giant shrugged. "I was going to have you for dinner," she deadpanned.

Buffy made a face. "Okay, that's just..." She turned to Spike. "Why do they always speak English?"

"What, demons?"

"Yeah! Right down to the jokes. I mean, back in Sunnydale was one thing, but here... it's really starting to bug me."

"Sitting right here!" The giant let out an offended grunt. "Didn't your mommy teach you any manners?"

"See?" Buffy said, gesturing. "I mean, what's up with that?"

Spike's eyebrows lifted. "That old Rupert never really did tell you anything useful, did he?"

"Right, can we just skip the part where you rag on Giles?"

"Fine." Spike rolled his eyes. "It's a hierarchy thing. Lower demons just want to kill you. The stop-and-chat thing isn't a priority."

"High verbal scores on the SAT not required?"

"Right. If they sounded American to you back in the States, they probably were. Higher demons, though, it's all about making deals. Temptations, trickery--"

"Um, not that this isn't really fascinating," the giant cut in. "But I have lunch to prepare and childcare that needs doing." She gestured to the baby giant, who was currently playing quietly in a corner of the cave, making elaborate arrangements with the scattered bones. "Can we get on with this?"

"In a minute!" Buffy shot a narrow-eyed death glare at the mother monster. "So... English is the international demon business language then?"

"Nah, if you were Danish, she'd be speaking that right now. Can't arrange infernal bargains if your mark can't understand you."

"Huh." Buffy looked skeptical. "So this is a higher demon?"

"I've been around since before your puny race started digging with sticks," the giant harumphed.

"She'd have eaten us outright otherwise."

"That's still the plan, by the way," the giant reminded them.

"Point is, Great White North's here's not just a big predator. There's some other point."

"Hmmm," Buffy mused.

The giant tapped a claw on the floor for attention. With the air of a teacher who'd been interrupted. "Done now?" it asked.

"Yes, we're done." Buffy tossed her hair, squared her shoulders with new resolve. "What's the first challenge?"

__________

Seemingly out of nowhere, the giant produced a drinking horn. Ornate. Jeweled. Approximately the size of a claw-foot bathtub.

"Drink this to the bottom," the monster said solemnly.

Spike looked disgusted. "Oh, forget it!" At Buffy's look, he explained. "I know this one. It's a trick. The horn's bottomless or something. Like you'd have to drink the whole ocean to get it all down."

"So you refuse the challenge?" The giant looked smug.

"Hey, the rules as I remember them had something to do with us beating you. If you couldn't do it either, then we've got nothing to prove."

The giant gave him a sore look. "Uh, the traditional pattern is that the host--"

"Oh, stick it! Not our fault how the old-timers did it. You go first, or the deal's off."

"Right!" Buffy agreed, although her forehead wrinkled in annoyance. The way Spike had suddenly taken control of the negotiations was making her feel a little superfluous. And confused.

"Fine," the giant sighed. "You name a challenge then."

Spike crossed his arms over his chest. "Right. Give me a sword, and I'll stab myself with it. Then you do it."

A guffaw. "You think I'm fool enough to give you a sword?"

"You go first, then."

The giant looked skeptical. "Is that really a test of skill?"

"Alright, then I bet I can hold my breath longer than you can."

"Hmmmmm..."

"Underwater."

The giant's eyes shifted to Buffy. "How about we all do it?"

"Leave her out of it," Spike said sharply, then. "I'm your opponent here, Fuzzy. Get that through your enormous head. These challenges, they're just you and me."

"What?" Buffy roused suddenly from the near-daze she'd slipped into. Their back-and-forth quality of their exchanges had the mesmerizing quality of a tennis match. "When did that get decided?"

Spike shot her a warning look. "Never you mind."

"Excuse me? I mind. What do you think you're doing?"

He said nothing, but a metaphorical light promptly went on over Buffy's head.

"Oh, don't you even think about it," she said. "We're in this together."

"Pet," he said, in a warning tone to match the look. "Let me handle this, okay?"

"Contests of skill, huh?" Buffy ignored him, shouted up to the giant. "How about..." She glanced around. "...ice skating?"

"Oh, brilliant."

"Well, I bet she can't do it."

"And I'll bet there aren't any size-fifty figure skates around here, either. What's next, braiding hair?"

"Hey! I can live without the sarcasm, buster. This is my fight too, you know."

"Well, I was doing just fine until you horned in."

"Tough! You don't get to make that decision!"

"You know... I think I'm on her side," the giant interjected thoughtfully. "I mean, since I do plan on eating both of you. It seems only fair--"

"Butt! Out!" Spike barked at the giant, annoyed. "She doesn't need your girl-power solidarity. What the hell kind of monster are you?"

Over in the corner, Grognor the baby giant let out a wail.

"Oh, there he goes! I just knew this challenge thing was going to ruin my schedule. Heroes are so annoying," the mother giant muttered. She got up, tottered across the cave to her monstrous baby, and picked him up. Bounced him soothingly in an extremely humanlike manner.

"You know, kids," the mother giant said after a long moment of cooing and making funny faces. Which the baby giant was having none of, continuing to cling to her fur and cry. "You have issues, and that's cute, and I'm as much a traditionalist as the next giant for this contest stuff... but I really don't have time for this right now." She turned and began to shuffled toward the exit.

"Wait--where are you going?" Buffy called out in confusion.

The mother giant waved a dismissive hand. "Look, I'd hoped to have you two filleted and salted before the baby's bedtime, but... what say we pick this up in the moring?" She delivered this over her shoulder with the air of someone with a mind already on other things. "Till then, enjoy your stay. As my... guests."

An unpleasant cackle lingered in the air long after the giant had disappeared through the enormous doorway, leaving Buffy and Spike alone in the cold room.

__________

The moment the mother giant was out of sight, Spike sagged back onto the icy floor. Splayed out, like a puppet with his strings cut.

Buffy stood. Her legs were shaky, trembling. She stared at the empty doorway for a moment, then walked up to Spike's prone form and aimed a hard kick at him.

"Hey!" he grunted, and threw up a warding hand. The blow didn't connect, just made contact with the ice short of his left hip, but it sent up a blinding spray of ice particles. "What the hell was that for?"

"What do you think?" She paced back and forth, wrung her hands in frustration. "You were trying to--to--"

"To win?" he said sullenly.

"To get yourself killed." She shot him a hard look, still pacing. "I mean, the whole 'eat me first' thing was kind of funny, but reality check--who do you think is really protecting who around here?"

"Just being practical." He spoke to the ceiling. "We both know I don't have a chance of getting out of here on my own."

"You're not on your own." Buffy halted. Glared at him, arms folded tightly around herself. "You were practically throwing yourself on your sword back there."

"Buffy--"

"Literally."

"Actually, that was--"

"You know, I never would've called you a champion if I knew it was going to go to your head like this." She began pacing again. "I don't want to compete with you."

"I never said--"

"Because this isn't a contest about who loves who more!" She stopped once more, gazed at him with a pleading expression. "Spike... I already know that you'll die for me. You don't have to keep proving it."

He studied her for a moment long before answering with a minute shake of the head, his eyes still on hers. "That's not it."

"No?" And then the resentment bubbled up out of her, something she'd never been able to quite fit into words before. "You really think that's it, though, don't you? That it's all about you dying for me, like that's all I want. The whole time we've been together, you've acted like... like I'm your last meal or something before the firing squad."

"That's not it. Buffy. Just that--well, if it comes down a choice between you and me--"

"If," she insisted. "If, not when, and only if there's no other choice. Or do you think I like this? Making choices like this about the people I care about? Who lives and who dies?"

"Buffy," he tried again.

"I'm not a prize," she interrupted bitterly. "I'm not your reward. The whole reason I brought you on this trip was because I wanted something that was all about living and not dying. And I need to know you still want that. Because I really can't tell anymore."

He considered her. As if he'd only just begun to hear her speak. A disjointed doll, with overactive eyes.

"'Course I want it," he said softly, after a small pause. "I don't--I never meant to make you think..."

"Didn't you?" And then she sank to her knees, arms still folded around herself protectively. And then there was an awkwardness between them, a silence. The embarrassment that comes from the kind of misunderstandings not easily explained away, or understood.

"Meant a lot to me, you know," he said finally, lashes lowered. "Back there. What you did."

She looked at him, questions in her eyes.

"'Yummy yummy in your tummy'." He smiled, rueful. "Didn't want it to happen, god forbid, but..."

"It's the thought that counts." She smiled back. "I know."

__________

Continued in Part 4

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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herself_nyc

You're so good at the snappy dialogue, and I like how the snappy dialogue gives way to the big emotional moment, where they realize that this is about more than it's apparently about.

Can't wait for the rest.

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