Plagued--Why Us? Series - Dive-Bomb -- by Ruby


Rating: PG-13

Description: Willow and Spike are attacked by birds, sequel to Marauding Frogs.

Note: I had originally intended for this to be serious, but I'm so easily carried away. Dedication -- For Sunfire, who made the suggestion, and to all of you who also sent great ideas. I'm planning on getting to all of them. Keep 'em coming, if you're so inclined.:-)

Disclaimer: Joss owns all.


"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Willow suggested as Spike held the door open for her.

"What's that, pet?" he asked.

"Going out...there. Maybe we should just stay in tonight."

"And take a chance on the slayer stopping by for a visit?" he asked her. "I promise, we won't go anywhere near the lake. No frogs, no clowns, just one witch and a vampire."

"Okay," she nodded, though her feet remained riveted in place.

He smiled and snatched her around the waist, pulling her over to him and kissing her firmly. "Tell you what. Let's go to my place," he offered. "A ten minute walk, and we're there."

"I'm being ridiculous, aren't I? You're right. It's too risky staying here. Let's go," she agreed, slipping her hand into his.


Spike draped an arm over her shoulder and caressed her cheek with his thumb as they cut across the park toward his apartment.

"Damn," he suddenly hissed, dropping his arm and coming to a quick halt.

"What is it?" she asked hesitantly.

"The slayer, she's here, close by," he whispered.

"Oh, no! What are we--" Spike silenced her with a quick squeeze to her hand.

They stood perfectly still for a moment while Spike honed in on Buffy's position. Without a word, he suddenly turned to his left, pulling Willow behind him as he headed in the opposite direction from which he'd sensed the slayer's presence. They made a quick path through the park, bringing them out onto a street that was several blocks away from their original destination.

"All clear," he announced and felt Willow's tensed hand loosen in his.

"You know, I'm thinking maybe we should just tell her," she said.

He looked down at her, visibly surprised, "Are you serious?"

"Well, maybe not. I guess she wouldn't take it too well," she admitted.

"That, little one, is quite possibly the biggest understatement I've heard in all my years of existence. I have no intention of giving you up. If I have to take her on to prove that point, I will."

"No, I wouldn't want that. I'm not ready for that. Bad idea. Very bad," she decided.

He nodded, and they continued on their way. They crossed the street and headed into the cover of an alley, coming out on the other side into a wide parking lot behind a row of shops. A large black object suddenly swooped down in front of them, and Willow choked back a squeal of fright.

"What the hell was that?" she asked.

"I don't--" Spike pulled Willow backwards as another nearly flew into her.

They looked upward as the quiet darkness was suddenly overcome by the flapping of wings and a cacophony of squawks.

"Crows!" Willow cried out as the huge flock of birds overhead came into view.

The large birds began to dive-bomb the couple, and Spike hissed as the clawed foot of one of them slashed his cheek. Willow covered the top of her head with her arm as the crows descended time and again, their beaks tearing at the fabric of her shirt sleeve and digging gouges into her skin. She ducked down and turned, scanning the parking lot for a place of refuge.

Spike who was busily waging his own battle against the relentless winged attackers, growled loudly and morphed into vamp face as one of them latched onto a finger while another curled its claws into the flesh above and below his eyes. Willow gasped as she looked over at him. A thick stream of blood, so red it was almost black, was coursing down and around his eye. She grabbed his hand and headed in the direction of the shops which had been closed and locked up hours earlier.

The angry birds pursued them, and Willow felt blood oozing from the back of her head as one of them sunk its sharp beak into her skull. Consciously ignoring the pain, she stooped down and pushed against a piece of plywood that had been used to board up the basement window below one of the stores. When it didn't budge, she stood up, raised a foot, and kicked forcefully at it. With the third blow, the plywood gave way, falling through the window and landing on the floor inside. She pushed Spike down onto his knees and swatted at the crows as she urged him down through the open window. One of the birds flew in behind her as she scrambled inside and landed with a thud on the floor beside Spike. She grabbed up the plywood and positioned it back over the window, propping it in place with several bricks that lay in a pile near the wall.

In the meantime, the crow was flapping around in the dark basement. With the window boarded, Willow found it impossible to see anything.

"Spike, light your lighter," she spoke into the darkness.

She heard him flick open the cigarette lighter, and the small flame sputtered to life. It's meager light provided enough illumination for her to keep an eye on the bird as she looked around for some sort of weapon. She found a piece of pipe laying near the stairs and ran to retrieve it. Her eyes followed the crow as it flew toward the vampire.

"Get down," she ordered.

His vision impaired by the blood flowing from his wound, Spike dropped to the floor, and Willow swatted the crow away from him. It flew into the wall on the opposite side of the room and fell to the floor, alive but stunned. She went over to it and raised the pipe, squeezing her eyes shut as she brought it swiftly down on the bird, killing it in one blow. She dropped the pipe and hurried over to Spike.

Kneeling down beside him, she cupped his cheeks in her hands and raised his face to look at his eye. Fortunately, the crow had missed the eyeball, but the deep gashes above and below it were bleeding profusely.

She dug a clean tissue out of her jacket pocket and dabbed at the wounds. Spike hissed and bared his fangs at her.

"Don't try that with me, buster," she warned him, gripping his chin in one hand while she continued to gently wipe at the flow of blood.

"Sorry," he muttered, peering at her with one amber eye. "Force of habit."

"I need to clean this properly," she told him. "I can't do that here."

"It'll be all right in a day or two," he assured her. "A little blood would go a long way toward helping, though."

She grinned and shook her head, "Oh, no you don't. I'm not going to be your personal first-aid kit."

"That isn't what I meant," he replied, chuckling despite his pain.

"I don't hear them out there," she said. "Do you think it's safe?"

He grabbed her arm as she tried to stand up, "Let me, ducks. Even with only one eye, I can see better in the dark."

She followed him to the window and helped him remove the bricks she had placed against the plywood board. He shoved it aside far enough to peer out. The parking lot was empty, but the cries of the crows could still be heard from the other side of the lot.

"Now what do we do?" Willow asked forlornly.

"Wait a minute," he said as another sound reached his ears.

A moment later, a loud, female shriek rose above the din of the birds.

"Someone's in trouble! We have to go out there," Willow cried out.

"Xander! I found them!" a voice called out from the end of the parking lot.

"It's Buffy!" Willow squealed. "Spike, if she finds us here--"

"Listen, pet! She's after those damned birds," Spike chuckled. "What the hell does she think she's going to do? Stake them one by one? This, I have to see."

"Are you crazy!" Willow hissed. "She'll see us!"

"She's on the other side of the lot. We'll be in the shadows. Come on!" he insisted, scrambling up through the window and reaching down to help Willow out.

He dragged her along the edge of the building until they reached a narrow walkway that ran between the shops and a small, cinder block storage building. He flattened himself against the wall of the little building and pulled Willow into his arms, turning his head to watch the unfolding battle across the lot.

Xander, standing under a light in the parking lot, could clearly be seen as he covered his head with his hands.

"Buffy!" he shouted. "Would you just throw the damned stuff?"

"I'm trying! You could help, you know!" she yelled back at him, kneeling down on the pavement and attempting to ward off the onslaught of feathered assailants. "If this doesn't work, I'm going to nail Giles by his shirt sleeves to a wooden post and hang him out as a scarecrow."

She tore open the large bag she was kneeling over and picked it up as she stood, dumping its contents onto the ground. The crows immediately dived down, converging on the scattered pile and strewing it out over the asphalt. The birds began to drop, still and lifeless, as they ingested whatever it was Buffy had poured out for them. The slayer backed away until she was standing next to Xander under the light.

"Looks like Giles had the right idea," Xander said. "Poisoned corn. I wonder if it took hours of research, or if the idea just struck him while he was wandering past the pet store."

"Who cares?" she grumbled. "I just want to go home and take a shower--now! Bird droppings are NOT my idea of a hair conditioner."

Willow buried a giggle in Spike's shirt as the slayer wiped her plastered hair away from her forehead. Xander's loud laughter rang out across the empty lot as he stared over at Buffy.

"What the hell are YOU laughing at?" she demanded. "You don't look any better, you know!"

Xander fell silent and brought his hand up to run his fingers through his gooey hair. He pulled them away in disgust and swiveled his head to look down at his well-soiled shoulders.

"Oh, shit!" he cried out.

"He got that right," Spike chuckled as Willow clung desperately to him, fighting to keep a burst of laughter from rising to her lips.

They waited until Buffy and Xander disappeared around the far side of the buildings, leaving the carcasses of the birds behind them. Willow looked up at Spike and flinched as his fingers nestled in the hair on the back of her head. He quickly pulled his hand away and turned her around.

"This looks pretty nasty, luv," he murmured, eyeing the bloody wound on her head.

"Not as bad as your eye," she replied, turning back to face him.

He smiled and bent to kiss her, "Let's go to my place and get each other fixed up."

"I'm for that," she agreed, taking his hand.

"It could take all night," he warned her with a grin.

"I hope so," she smiled.

The End

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