******
It had been one week since we left for Sunnydale. After days of getting nowhere with those who created us, we decided to take matters into our own hands...well, sort of...if we had hands. It was my turn to drive and I found it quite difficult. Not because I didn’t know how...I did...but being a Kazoo, with no arms, legs, or even eyes, made driving a challenge. But I felt up to it.
The Bassoon sat in the back of the jeep, with The Harmonica. She seemed depressed since the day we set out. And today was even worse. “I don’t know,” she gave a long deep sigh, “Maybe we should go back. I miss home. And what if he won’t talk to us?”
“Oh come on,” The Harmonica said cheerfully, allowing the wind of the open road to blow through her slots, “this is great! I mean, look at us. Foot loose and fancy free.”
“Um...” The Tuba pointed out, “We don’t have feet.”
“Spoil sport.”
“I know,” The Bassoon sighed. Her melancholy grew by the moment, “It’s just that, I don’t think we’re doing the right thing.”
I had been quiet through most of this, concentrating on trying to keep the jeep on the road, but I knew I had to say something, “Look,” I hummed, “We sang and played and sang some more...and what did it get us? Bubkiss!” I looked at The Bassoon, “You were even replaced by a Bagpipe!”
“That human stealing little slut!” The Harmonica piped in.
“Sounds like screaming cats to me,” The Tuba added.
“Now,” I continued, “If we don’t get anywhere from our humans...then we have to go the source. Are you with me!”
“Hell yeah!”
“Damn straight!”
“Well,” The Bassoon hemmed, “Um....all right, I guess.”
With that, I smiled. Or would have, if I had lips.
We drove another hour before we came to the Welcome to Sunnydale sign. All of our hearts rose, as we entered the town. Here is where we would get results! Here is where we would get our fics!
We pulled up to his house and hopped out of the car. It was The Harmonica who got to the door first, her excitement was barely contained. She jumped, and jumped, trying to reach the bell, but was unable to. When The Tuba saundered up, she pushed the bell with her mouth piece, and waited.
We could hear the sound of foot steps, nearing the door. At last we where going to meet him! The door opened, and standing before us was a very handsome Englishman, with a very puzzled expression on his face.
“Yes?” he looked down at us, “C-can I help you....you...musical instruments? Instruments?”
I climbed up on the Tuba and introduced myself, with as much confidence as I could muster, “Hi! I’m the Possessed Kazoo.” Then pointing to my companions I added, “This is the Possessed Tuba, Harmonica and standing all depressed over there is...”
“Let me guess,” The Englishman interrupted, “The Possessed Bassoon?”
The Bassoon brightened at that remark, “You noticed me? No one ever notices me.”
“Um, look,” I said, “Maybe we should take this inside. I don’t know how your neighbors would feel about you talking with Possessed Instruments.”
“Couldn’t be any stranger than befriending a vampire,” Giles sighed, “Please come in.”
He led us to his living room, and we quickly made ourselves comfortable. The great thing about be musical instruments is that we have little sense of etiquette...in regards to being house guests. Actually, we had never house guests. We tended to perform when ever we were in somebody’s home. It felt good to just sit and talk.
“Now,” Giles asked, “What can I help you with?”
“Well....” I began.
“Well, you see,” The Harmonica said with a flurry of tunes, “we belong to these fanfiction writers, and they like to write about you and your friends and Sunnydale and....”
“And...” I got the conversation on track, “they haven’t been doing too much writing lately.”
“When we try to encourage them,” the Tuba added, “they just yes us to death....or they throw us out windows...”
“Or they replace us...” The Bassoon sighed, her melancholy returning with a vengeance.
“...with Bagpipes!” the Harmonica snipped.
Giles eye widened, “Oh, god...I’m so sorry. Bagpipes!? Perish the thought! Sounds like screaming cats.”
“I said the same thing!” The Tuba agreed, “Not nearly as nice as a Bassoon...”
“Or a Tuba...”
“Or a Harmonica...”
“Or a Kazoo...”
“Is a Kazoo even an instrument?” Giles asked.
I looked at him through my air hole and growled, “Don’t even go there!”
“Sorry.”
“Anyway,” I said, “We need you to come back with us to talk some sense into these people. Tell them, they have to get cracking. In one story you and Joyce are searching for Buffy. In another one...you and Joyce are going to have a baby...”
“A baby?!”
“Well, it happens in an alternate universe,” I explained, “In another story, you and Joyce are stuck in her house in a really bad storm...”
“I’m seeing a pattern here...”
“Yeah...well...it’s on a fiction list dedicated to you and Joyce.”
“Me and Joyce?” Giles asked. Then he paused and thought, “Hmmm...does have possibilities. Really nice possibilities.”
“And in another story,” I tried to get things back on track, “you and Willow are being held captive by this demon, who want’s you to set him free...and Joyce and the others are trying to fight off these really nasty Hellhounds, and a multiple personality vampire/demon...”
“Jeeze...who the HELL wrote that? Someone who obviously likes to torment characters, I imagine.”
“That would be Tamara,” The Tuba said with a small amount of pride, “That’s MY human. And yes, she is a little twisted....but she usually has semi-happy endings. Hey, she even wrote a smutfic with you and Joyce...locked in your basement....with twenty flamingoes...”
“Twenty Flamingoes?”
“Well, they were just in the background...”
“Can we please get back to the subject!” I shouted. It came out as a strangled honk. I hate it when I get made...too much air...too small a space.... “If you could come back with us...you could convince them to get cracking. I know you can. They would listen to you...they’re obsessed that way.”
“I don’t know....I have so many things to do here...”
“Those THINGS are being written as we speak,” I pointed out, “And if the writers stop writing...you’ll run out of things to do real fast.”
“You have a point.”
“So, are you coming...or what?”
Giles sat there, looking at us for a long time. Not that we would really know....none of us have ever owned watches...just metronomes.
He got up and pulled on his coat, “Well, if we want to get there...we’d better get going straight away.”
“Great!” We all cheered in harmony.
Instruments Index
Part Two
Tamara's Fiction SGtVS/Hyperion Index Fiction