Title: The Slayer Bride
Author: Robyn the Snowshoe Hare
E-mail: snowshoe16@hotmail.com
Part: 1/?
Disclaimer: Joss owns all things Buffy. Some guy (not me) owns all things Princess Bride. All you really need to know is that I'm not getting any royalty checks for this story. 

Dedication: For Joel, Jeanie, and Siobhan. 

Part One

Once there was a BtVS fan who had the flu, and who was confined to his bed for a week. After about three days of not being able to read fanfiction on his computer, he was going stir-crazy. His mother, tired of having to act as his jailer, called one of his friends (also a BtVS fan) and asked her to visit.

So the next day, the boy's friend came to spend the afternoon, bringing some fanfiction with her. After he came down from his thrill of once again being able to read BtVS stories, the sick fan realized that there might be a bit of a conflict of taste. He didn't like romance, if any of the Slayerettes showed the slightest amount of interest in each other he deleted the rest, but his friend loved romance. She didn't even care *who* was doing the kissing, just as long as there *was* kissing, and rarely read anything that had a plot more complex than, 'see vampire, slay vampire, smootch smootch smootch.'

"Okay, here's one." his friend said cheerfully, "One of my friends sent it to me when I was sick. I think you'll like it."

"It's not a smootchie fic, is it? Don't try and pull any romance. I might be weak and dehydrated, but I can still throw this pillow at you. Does it have any action?"

"Are you kidding me? It has fencing, fighting, torture, escapes, pirates, and giants!"

"You're hiding something from me, aren't you?"

"Do you want me to read this or not?"

"Oh, alright. I'll try and stay awake."

"Your confidence is overwhelming."


Buffycup lived in a small gallery near Sunnydale. Her favorite pastimes were patrolling the nearby cemetary and tormenting the research boy who worked there. His name was Xander, but she never called him that.

"Research Boy, sharpen my stakes. I want them pointy by nightfall."

"As you wish."

"Research Boy, go get donuts."

"As you wish."

"Research Boy, I need you to play bait when I patrol."

"As you wish."

'As you wish' was all he ever said to her. But one day, she realized that when he said 'As you wish', what he meant was, 'I love you.' Even more amazing was the day that she realized that she truly loved him back.


"Hey! You said that this wasn't a smootchie fic! I hate smootchie fanfic! Not only that, but this sounds like an angsty smootchie fanfic! When does it get good? Where is the torture?"

"It's coming, I promise. Just let me read."


Buffycup and Xander had no money for marriage, though. So Xander decided to seek his fortune while Buffycup stayed behind and patrolled the graveyard. It was a very hard time for both of them, because they loved each other so much that it was a torture to be parted from one another.


"I don't believe this."


Xander's ship was attacked by the Dread Pirate Roberts, who never left captives alive. When Buffycup got the news that Xander had been murdered by pirates-


"Murdered by pirates is good."

P> -she went to her room and for days she neither slept nor ate. She vowed that she would never love again.

Five years later, though, Prince Angelus of Sunnydale chose her to be his bride. Buffycup was horrified. Although the law of the land gave the prince the right to choose his bride, she did not love him. Her only joy was patroling the graveyard or dancing at the Bronze.

One night while she was patrolling, three men came up to her. The short bald one asked, "Hello! We're from Blush and Beautiful Cosmetics! Are there any towns or villages nearby?"

"There is nothing nearby," she replied, "not for miles."

"Then there will be no one to hear you scream." Distracted by the short one (who reminded her of her high school principal), Buffycup didn't notice the tall one until he got her into a headlock. Once she was unconscious, they took her to their ship.

As the giant was carrying her aboard, the musician with the strange hair looked over and saw the bald guy tearing something.

"What is that you are ripping?" he asked.

"It's the army uniform of an officer of LA."

"What's LA?" asked the rather slow-witted giant.

"The country across the sea! The sworn enemy of Sunnydale! Once the Prince discovers the scraps, he'll suspect that the LAians have abducted his love. When he finds her body dead on the LA frontier, his suspicians will be totally confirmed."

"You never said anything about killing anyone!" protested the giant.

"I've hired you to help me start a war. It's a prestigeous line of work, with a long and glorious tradition."

"It just doesn't seem right, killing an innocent girl."

Angered, the bald man started yelling at the giant. "Have I just gone mad, or did the word 'think' escape your lips? You were not hired for your brains, you hippomatatic lion-mass!"

"I agree with Larry." said the musician, joining in on the conversation.

"Oh, the sod has spoken! When the time comes, I will kill her! And never forget this, when I found you, you were so slobbering drunk, you couldn't buy brandy!" the short man was so enraged that he was practically spitting as he restored order to his group. "And you," he said, turning to Larry, "Friendless. Brainless. Helpless. Hopeless. Do you want me to send you back to where you were? Just kicked off the football team for your choice of lifestyle?" With a snort, the bald man stalked off to the other end of the ship, while Larry and the musician prepared to cast off.

When Buffycup woke up, Larry and the musician were sailing while the short bald one was ordering them around. "You won't get away with this," Buffycup stated. "Once my prince finds us, he will see you all horribly eviscerated."

"Of all the necks on this boat, Slayer," the bald one said, "the one you should be worried about is your own."

"Are you sure no one is following us?" asked the musician.

"It would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways inconcievable." said the bald one. "No one in LA knows what we're doing here, and no one in Sunnydale could have gotten here so fast! But out of curiosity, why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason, Snydinni." said the musician. "It's just that I happened to look back, and I saw someone there."

"It's probably just some fisherman out for a pleasure-cruise at night, through swim team-infested waters."

A loud splash followed that statement, as Buffycup chose that moment to make her escape, jumping over the side and swimming strongly for shore.

Back on the boat, Snydinni was livid. "Go in after her!" he screamed at the musician.

"I can't swim." he replied. Larry anticipated being asked and supplied, "I only dog paddle."

"ARG!" yelled the frustrated Snydinni. He was directing the musician to turn the boat when a strange shrieking noise filled the air.

"Do you know what that sound is, Slayer?" Snydinni asked. "That's the halibut-mutated swim team! If you don't believe me, just wait. They always get louder when they're about to feed on human flesh! If you swim back now, I promise, no harm will come to you. I doubt you'll get such an offer from the swim team."

Buffycup knew that the little man was lying through his teeth, but she also knew that she wasn't in the best position to quibble over truth. As she treaded water, she felt something scaly brush by her leg. As the shrieking grew louder, she saw a fish-monster surface about twenty feet away from her and begin charging.

Wait, check that. Fifteen feet.

Ten feet.

Five feet. The fish-monster was opening its mouth, revealing several rows of fangs.

Three feet.

Two feet.

One foot.


"She doesn't get eaten by the swim team."


"She doesn't get eaten. I'm just explaining because you looked a little nervous."

"I wasn't nervous."


"Okay, maybe I was a little concerned, but that's not the same thing."

"We can stop now if you want."

"No, you can read a little more, if you want."

"Okay, now where were we..."


"Do you know what that sound is, Slayer?" Snydinni asked. "That's the halibut-mutated swim team!


"We're past that, you read it already."

"Oh, sorry. Here we go."


Just as she was certain that she would be fish-food, the musician managed to steer the ship close enough so that Larry could grab the collar of her shirt and haul her onto the ship.

"I think that other ship is getting closer!" yelled the musician.

"That's no concern of ours, sail on!" called Snydinni.

They sailed all night, and just as the sun rose they reached the Cliffs of Insanity. By that time, however, the mysterious ship was practically on top of them, no matter how many times Snydinni shrieked "Inconcievable!" at it.

"We're safe." smirked Snydinni. "Only Larry is strong enough to climb our way. The guy in the ship will have to sail around for hours until he finds a harbor."

Buffycup, the musician, and Snydinni all hung onto Larry as he began to climb a rope up the treaturous Cliffs of Insanity. At one point, however, the musician glanced down and noticed that a man dressed completely in black had jumped out of the mysterious ship and was proceding to do something rather....well...inconcievable.

"Huh," said the musician.


"He's climbing the rope. And he's gaining on us."


Once they reached the top, Snydinni cut the rope. They all gathered at the top to look down at the now pureed remains of their pursuent. Or so went the plan.

"He didn't fall? Inconcievable!" fumed Snydinni.

"You keep using that word. I don't think it means what you think it means." said the musician. "Huh."

"What now?"

"He's still climbing."

"He has very good arms." asserted Larry.

"Whoever he is," Snydinni said, attempting to regain control of the situation, "He has obviously seen us with the Slayer and must therefore die. You," he gestured to Larry, "carry her," he gestured at Buffycup. Dismissing the two from his thoughts, he turned to the musician. "We'll head straight to the LA frontier. If he falls, fine, if not, the sword."


Everyone left, leaving only the musician and the Man In Black, who at the moment had definate troubles of his own which stemmed directly from hanging 100 feet in the air while clinging to the side of a sheer rock face.

But he didn't fall, which meant that the musician had to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

After about twenty minutes of this, the musician walked over to the edge.

"Hello down there!" he called. The Man In Black didn't answer. The musician tried again.

"Slow going?" This got a response. The Man In Black looked up, and called, "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but this is not as easy as it looks, so I'd rather you didn't distract me."


"Thank you."

Another twenty minutes passed in this fashion. The musician went back to the edge.

"I don't suppose you could speed things up a little?"

"If you're in such a hurry you could lower a rope, or a tree branch, or find something useful to do."

"I have some rope up here, but I don't think you would trust me, since I'm just waiting around to kill you."

"That does put a damper on our relationship."

"But, I promise I will *not* kill you until you reach the top."

"That's very comforting, but I'm afraid you'll just have to wait."

"I hate waiting. I could give you my word as a musician!"

"No good. I've known too many musicians."

"Isn't there any way you'll trust me?"

"Nothing comes to mind."

The musician paused, and thought a moment.

"I swear upon the soul of my girlfriend, Willow Rosenberg, you will reach the top alive."

"Throw me the rope."

This was done, and soon the Man In Black was standing next to the musician. He thanked him very politely, and began to draw his sword.

"No, wait until you're ready." said the musician. Again, the Man In Black thanked him, and he sat down to rest.

"I do not mean to pry," said the musician, "but you do not by chance have fangs?"

"Do you always begin conversations like this?" asked the Man In Black in surprise.

"My girlfriend was slaughtered by a Brit with fangs."

Wordlessly, the Man In Black opened his mouth, revealing a well-kept set of chompers, but no fangs.

"Ah." said the musician, dissapointed. Musingly, he started to reminise.

"My girlfriend was a great hacker. When the Brit came to her and requested a special government hack, she took the job. She worked on it for a month. The Brit returned and demanded the information, but at one-tenth the promised payment. She refused to give it to him. Without a word, the Brit tore out her throat. I loved my girlfriend, so naturally I challenged her murderer to a duel. I failed. The Brit left me alive. But he gave me this." Tilting his neck to one side, the musician showed the MIB two small puncture-wound scars.

"How old were you?" asked the MIB.

"I was eighteen. And since then, I've dedicated my life to tracking down this Brit. When I find him I will say, 'Hello. My name is Inigoz Montoya. You killed my girlfriend. Prepare to die.' And then I will certainly not fail."

The bonding moment ended, and the two men began to duel. They were both masters, but eventually the MIB came out the winner. Instead of killing Inigoz, he merely knocked him unconscious.

The MIB hurried on, following the way Larry and Snydinni had gone.

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