Fanfic - Pooka in the Park
Feb. 10th, 2019 12:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Disclaimer -- Whedon owns all
Summary Buffy is on the trail of a killer in one of Sunnydale’s parks.
Warning -- none
Author’s Note written for fandom_stocking’s 2018 edition and written for wendymypooh. Happy Holidays.
If you prefer to read it on AO3 you can find it here
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Buffy didn’t know what it was about this particular city park in Sunnydale but it had seen its share of tragedy, nearly as much as the cemetery had. Four deaths had happened in the vicinity in the last two weeks, two of which had been listed as ‘kicked to death by horses’. Even Giles was stumped. It wasn’t like southern California was Amish country or something.
A strong autumn wind had Buffy jumping every few minutes as she patrolled alone. The stirring leaves and debris – man, people could be such pigs. It wasn’t as if there weren’t garbage cans around – made her think something was coming up on her, trying to catch her unawares. Willow and Xander had begged off – which in a way was a relief but in another made this a lonely venture – because they had a big history test. Willow had been way too excited to study for it, and she was helping Xander so he’d make it through. Buffy hoped she, herself, had prepared for it well enough in advance.
Buffy paused. That definitely was a footstep. She whipped around just as a familiar feeling settled over her, and saw Angel crossing the grass. She smiled, the tension bleeding out of her muscles. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
He grinned back at her. “I gave some thought about what you said about the killings.”
Buffy had seen Angel the night before in his home, pondering what in the world wild horses would be doing in Sunnydale. “And?”
“Did Giles think to look up Pookas?”
She shook her head. “If he did, he hasn’t mentioned it to me yet.” And he might not have, not if he wanted to more thoroughly investigate it. “What’s a Pooka?”
“A shapeshifting fairy but fairy could have been a term used for a demon they didn’t understand back in the day.” He shrugged. “When I was growing up, people definitely believed in them. They were known for inviting people to ride them and often appeared as sleek, well-bred horses.”
Buffy pursed her lips, thinking on it. “And you just jumped on the first lone horse you saw back then?”
Angel shrugged. “We didn’t have cars. It was a horse, your feet or maybe an ox cart. It would have been tempting to snare a prime, unclaimed horse for yourself. A horse meant a certain measure of wealth and independence.”
Buffy honestly couldn’t picture it but half hoped there would be a history question on the test tomorrow where she could work that in. “But here and now? I’d rather have a Mustang the car over the horse variety.”
He snorted, shaking his head. He knew she wasn’t exactly a driver. “Not to sound sexist but girls like horses, right? Tell me you didn’t want a pony.”
It had been on six Christmas wish lists in a row but she wasn’t confiding that in anyone. “Point taken. So, have you seen any wild horses?”
“No, nor any hoof prints. Have you checked the east side of the park yet?”
“Nope. Why don’t you take that, and I’ll go north.”
Buffy didn’t like splitting up because she wanted to spend more time with Angel, but it wasn’t the professional thing to do. She hated having to think like that but if she didn’t, it would increase the chances of someone else dying. After a half hour of wandering, she thought it might be time to give up and range out a bit farther. Just then, she saw a medium sized dog dart out from behind a shrub.
It was white with Irish Setter red ears. He sat down, scratched an ear, then let his tongue loll out as he looked at Buffy. She wanted so badly to pet him. She wasn’t exactly a dog person, too much responsibility on top of what she already faced, but she did like them. He didn’t seem the least bit unfriendly as she approached him.
“I don’t see a collar,” she said. “Who do you belong to, boy?” Buffy reached out to pet him.
“Buffy, don’t!”
Angel’s voice startled her away. She turned to look at him. His face was grim as he pelted across the grass.
“What?”
“White dog, red ears, it’s a Celtic fairy dog,” he called.
“Well, aren’t you the smart one,” the dog said, and Buffy’s jaw dropped.
Angel’s face morphed. “I think that’s your pooka, Buffy.”
“I thought you said it was a horse!”
“After Big Mouth over there was busy spilling trade secrets, I wasn’t going around in that form,” the dog replied, getting to his feet. His form shivered and shook until instead of a dog he was an old man. “Still want to pet me, pretty one?” He leered at her.
Buffy held up her stake questioning to Angel since he obviously knew something about these things. He shook his head and pulled two knives out of his coat’s inner pockets. He slid one along the grass to her. The old man dived for it to but Buffy was faster. She and Angel made short work of the Pooka who dissolved in a shimmer of bright light and the smell of the deep woods.
She frowned. “And he was such a cute dog, too.”
“That’s how they lure you in,” Angel replied.
“I’ll have to tell Giles about this in the morning.” She stifled a yawn. “And I still have a history test to study for yet.”
“Can I help?”
“You’ve probably lived through part of it.” Buffy held out her hand, and he took it.
At the end of the day, what better history tutor could she have?
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Date: 2019-02-10 01:48 pm (UTC)Nice job!
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Date: 2019-02-10 06:57 pm (UTC)Celtic mythology is one of those things I love and have researched for years and years (I have an odd affinity for Ireland even though it is not part of my heritage at all)
I'm glad you felt like it could be an episode. That's what I was aiming for. Though I do have those angsty depressing fics too