Killing Buffy

Summery: Bitchy, er Buffy, finally gets what she deserves. . . but, who’s exactly responsible?  
Date: August 5, 2000  


Buffy Summers was dead.

Deceased. Defunct. Departed.

Dead as dead can be. Much deader then Jasper Holden had ever seen before, and as Sunnydale’s chief medical examiner for the past fourteen years, Jasper had seen dead. The aging pathologist knew better then most why Sunnydale routinely rivaled Washington D.C for the highest per capita murder rate in the States. He had seen the details left out of official reports by the police. He knew the deal, but this had still managed to shake him.

There was nothing Holden wanted more then to retreat to his office, and curl up in his nice, lumbar supportive chair with the bottle of emergency vodka he kept in one of the filling cabinets. But, before he could even attempt to forget about the body in front of him, he needed to talk with the detective assigned to the case. Speaking of which. . .

Detective Kate Lockley barged into the morgue, the echo of her hostile action resounding throughout the mostly metal room. She had moved to the seemingly quiet northern California town thinking she had found the perfect little place to recuperate from the past year’s events in L.A. Of course, that was before she had been called in on a homicide on her second day as one of Sunnydale’s finest. Before she had seen the not quite familiar corpse with the twin puncture wounds in her neck.

With her jaw set and lips pressed into a thin line, Kate waited for the unnecessary report from the M.E. In her mind, the trip to the morgue was a complete waste of time. She already knew what had killed this poor, defenseless girl, and most importantly, she knew how to destroy them.

“Detective.” The doctor nodded by way of a greeting. “Quite an. . . interesting case you have here. The cause of death is. . .”

“Blood loss.” The blonde’s voice was low and icy.

“Er, no.” Holden cleared his throat. “I was going to say that the exact cause of death is. . . undeterminable at this time.”

Kate looked at the doctor, surprise clearly showing on her face. “But, the marks?” She pointed to the puncture wounds on Buffy’s throat.

“Well, in addition to the bi. . . mar. . . wound on her throat, there’s also a stab wound to the heart.” A gloved finger directed Kate’s attention toward the former slayer’s chest.

Kate peered closely at the suddenly obvious puncture. “What are those things around the edge?”


Blue eyes shot upwards. “You mean, she was staked?”

“Stabbed!” Holden corrected loudly. “Stabbed! Stabbed! *Stabbed*! There’s no steak here! Does this look like a restaurant to you?” The man nervously ran a hand through his already tufted shock of white hair.

Kate stared at him for a moment, and wondered how anyone could be so oblivious to the supernatural facts in this case. “So, she was bitten, sorry, *wounded in the neck area*, and she was stabbed.” The blonde nodded curtly.

“And. . .”

Kate’s eyebrows shot up. “And?”

The doctor sighed. “I found heavy amounts of arsenic in her system.”


“And. . .”

“And!? There’s more?!” Kate’s mind had started to reel. This case might not be as simple as she first thought.

“In her stomach. . .”



Kate blinked. “What?”

The doctor squirmed. “I found approximately six hundred and sixty six tadpoles in her stomach and large intestine.”

“Six hundred and sixty six. . .?”


“Tadpoles. . .?”


“In her. . .”

“Stomach, yes.”

“Well,” The blonde detective was temporarily at a loss. “Um, that’s. . . what’s your professional opinion?” She asked lamely.

“My professional opinion?” Holden stared down at the slightly bloated corpse. “I think. . . that someone didn’t like her very much.”


A few hours later and on the other side of town, Angel and his Xander were blissfully unaware of everything but each other. The vampire and teenager were thoroughly occupied in the age-old act of fooling around.

Their bodies slowly moved against each other. The only sounds heard were the soft, slightly muted moans when gentle fingers brushed against just the right places. However, those soft moans quickly transformed into frustrated groans as the phone began to ring.

All activity ceased for the sharp trills, and Angel was not pleased. “Ignore it.” He urgently whispered, as his fingers pressed into the flesh of Xander’s hips.

The mortal absentmindedly nodded. Like he was going to stop for anything less then. . .

“Xander? Angel?” Giles’ cultured voice filled the apartment as the answering machine picked up.

Immediately, the teenager’s disposition, among other things, deflated. As far as Xander was concerned, nothing could quite kill the mood like the voice of an ex-Watcher.

Giles continued, unaware of how much of Angel’s ire he had just brought down upon himself. “You need to come over to my place right away. I’ve already contacted Willow and Spike. It’s an emergency. Please, hurry.”


Angel couldn’t help growling at Giles when they got to his apartment. “This had better be good.”

“Depends on what your definition of ‘good’ is.” The Brit said shortly.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Oh, get on with it, would you? Some of us have people to mug.”

“Very well.” Giles solemnly looked at the strange assemblage. “I’m not sure how many of you are aware of it, but. . . Buffy was killed earlier this morning.”

“Oh, no! Oh, goddess! Oh. . .” Willow paused when she realized she was the only one becoming emotional. “Ah, forget it.”

“So, why exactly are we all here?” Spike sneered. “Ding, dong, the bitch is dead. What’s your point?”

“My point is,” Giles said harshly. “I was contacted by a rather acerbic representative of the police earlier. Evidently they are treating Buffy’s death as a homicide and the detective had quite a few questions for all of us. I’m afraid we might all be suspects.”

Angel nodded. “So, you thought you’d bring everyone that might have a motive together in one spot so we could implicate each other?”

“Oh.” Giles blinked owlishly. “I didn’t think of that part.”

“Glad I did.” Kate said, slowly sauntering into the apartment. “Angel.” She scowled at the older vampire. “Fancy meeting you here. Suddenly some things make a bit more sense.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “Next time we have a private meeting to discuss our motives for a murder, let’s remember to lock the door, okay?”

“There’s not going to be a next time, at least not for one of you.” Kate, head held high, scrutinized the group of suspects. “Now, I’m not certain about the logistics of it all, but I am positive that someone in this room knows how it was all done, because they did it!”

“Did what exactly?” Giles asked.

“The poison, the stake in the heart, the bite, and the. . . tadpoles.” Her voice faltered at bit. “To someone in this room that’s a recipe for murder.” She turned on Spike. “Was it you? Was that the way you thought Buffy Summers should die?”

“Well, personally, I’d always hoped a house was gonna fall out of the sky and land on her head.” Spike shrugged. “Or, does that only happen in the movies?”

Willow frowned. “I find that comment very offensive.”

“Sorry, Red.”

Kate ignored the irritated witch and apologetic vampire. “Maybe it was you.” She turned her glare on Xander who was immediately shielded by Angel. The detective scowled at this act of protectiveness. “No, I know exactly who did it. What’s the matter Angel? The old fashioned suck her blood thing just wasn’t good enough this time around?”

Angel sighed. “I’m not sure why, but I continue to be astounded at your ineptitude. I didn’t kill Buffy, Kate.”

“Oh right, and I’m supposed to believe the great Scourge of Europe?” The detective put her hands on her hips and stared dispassionately at the elder vampire.

”Look,” Angel began exasperatedly. “Do you have any idea of the body count I’ve racked up over the years? Sure, I’ve helped save the world and a couple of dozen souls, but I’m not gonna kill any more humans until I’m positive my cosmic scale is on the plus side. Understand?”

“You’re lying.” Kate said persistently. “That was the mark of a vampire on her throat. If you didn’t do it then who did?”

“Oh, sod it all.” Spike sniffed indignity. “It was me. I bit her.”

Everyone’s surprise was vocalized by Willow. “But, the chip?!

“See, that’s the thing. I figured it out. It’s all psychological.” Spike wisely tapped the side of his head. “The chip only goes off when I attack someone I *consider* to be human. That’s why I can still kill demons.” The blonde vampire shrugged. “It works off of some kind of archaic ethical shit still left my head.” He frowned. “Gotta work on that.”

“Anyway, I found her stumbling down the street, and thought I’d try my luck. I bit her all right, but I sure as hell didn’t drain her.” The blonde vampire shuddered in disgust. “I tell you, that blood was some of the foulest junk I’ve ever tasted.”

“Oh, yes,” Giles smiled sheepishly. “That was probably my fault. The arsenic and all that. I had put a rather large dose in that dreadful diet soda she consumed. Frightfully sorry.”

“S’okay, mate. I guess it makes up for all those times I dipped your toothbrush into the toilet.” Spike gave the suddenly green looking ex-Watcher an almost affectionate smile. “Anyway, by the time I stopped retching, Bunny was already gone.”

“Okay, that takes care of the poison, and the bite mark,” Xander ticked them off on his fingers. “But, what about the stake and the . . . uh. . . tadpoles?”


All eyes turned toward Willow. The young redhead faltered for a minute then lifted her chin, threw back her shoulders and said, “I did the tadpoles!”

“What?!?” The cry of surprise echoed through the apartment.

“That’s right! It was me!” Green eyes flashed as Willow launched into her confession. with all the remorse of a. . . very non-remorseful person. “You know how sucky she was with all of you? Well, I had to *live* with that! There are only so many self righteous diatribes a person can take before. . .” She took a deep breath and waited for her right eye to stop twitching. “I just couldn’t take anymore of it. She made my life miserable, day, after day, after day. . . so, I decided to do the worst thing I could think of.”

“Tadpoles.” Xander said simply.

“I would have gone for full grown frogs, but I was too low on essence of pond scum.” Willow pouted.

“You people. . . ” Kate’s heavily mascaraed eyes blinked rapidly as she slowly shook her head. “I can’t believe. . . That’s it!” She glared at the other occupants of the room, and reached for her gun. “You are all under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up. . .”

Spike snickered. “Pet, just. . . just stop. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Detective, look around you.” Giles made a sweeping gesture. “You didn’t really think you were going to have us confess, announce you were going to arrest us, and make it out alive, did you?”

Kate’s eyes widened. “But, you can’t kill me! I’m. . . I’m. . .”

“Annoying as hell.” Spike’s face shimmered. “And, I don’t consider that to be very human of you.”

The younger vampire pounced and Kate had just enough time to let out an “Eeep” before her jaw was broken. There were a few more crunches and Spike stopped long enough to exclaim. “Wow! I get to thrash on two incredibly irritating blondes in one week! That’s just. . .”

“Ironic?” Xander offered.

“Kismet?” Provided Willow.

“Neat!” Spike exclaimed before sinking his fangs into Kate’s jugular.

“I must say, Xander, I am quite impressed.” Giles smiled fondly at his youngest male charge. “I know Buffy was already weakened by the time you got to her, but still, a regular human besting a Slayer in one to one contact is a feat.”

“What. . .?” Xander shook his head. “I didn’t stake her.”

“Xander, it’s okay. “ Angel wrapped an arm around the younger man. “There are *no* complaints here.”

“But, I really didn’t do it! I *never* touched Buffy. I only messed with the brakes on her new car, I swear!”

Willow scrunched her eyebrows a bit. “Hey, didn’t Riley borrow Buffy’s car?”

Xander thought for a moment. “Huh, that would explain why we haven't seen him for a few days. Whoops.”

With a collective shrug the group forgot about the Hayseed and went back to the more pressing concern, which was succinctly summed up in the most overused and cliched way Willow could possibly manage.

“Well, if none of us staked Buffy, then who did?”

Xander had no answer for her, but posed a question of his own. “Hey Deadboy, with Kate being dead and all, do you think she’d mind if we borrowed her handcuffs?”


With an expert hand, the beautiful brunette painstakingly applied her new lip gloss. It was a great new color, a splurge, actually, but after the previous night she definitely felt that she deserved some kind of treat.

She thought of Buffy, and for a second she felt. . . something. Guilt? Nah, just a bit of an encore from the garlic and herb bagel she had had for lunch.

Why *should* she feel guilty about Buffy’s death? After all, the bitch had it coming. For four years the Slayer had done nothing but make lives miserable. Oh, and there was that God awful dye job she had Junior year. What exactly had she been smoking when she had visited the Lady Clairol aisle that day? But, she had saved the world a few times so everyone tended to ignore the whole treating her friends like shit thing.

And even the brunette, who had come to be rather fond of certain beleaguered members of the Scooby Gang, had opted to let numerous things slide. But there was one thing that could not be overlooked. One thing that was completely and wholly unforgivable. One thing that sealed a rather bloody, barfy, and bloated Buffy’s fate.

No one called Cordelia Chase hippy.

*No One*


the end