I wanna beat my breast like an ape man
Buffy slapped at the millionth mosquito that had tried to eat her in the past 30 minutes. "This is the last time I let Willow talk me into a tropical vacation," she mumbled grumpily to herself. Her voice got high-pitched as she mocked her friend. "`C'mon, Buffy. The weather's warm with pretty beaches and big pretty flowers `n' stuff.'" Her voice went back to normal. "What do I get instead? Snakes and bugs and bugs and more bugs and did I mention bugs?" She slapped at another yet-to-be-identified insect that had settled on her bicep. She shuddered in revulsion.
She continued to mutter to herself as she tramped through the rainforest. The occasional sighting of a brightly colored tropical bird was not enough to lessen her discomfort and all the walking had left her with way too much time to think.
And although she had seen some very pretty beaches initially, the demon she had to kill was deep in the Amazon Basin. "As soon as I kill this demon, I'm goin' to Rio and I'm gonna lay on the beach in a brand-spankin' new, sexy bikini, skin cancer be-damned. I'll drink big, fruity, umbrella-filled drinks and ogle big muscley surfers until I'm too drunk to say no. Then we'll screw `til dawn and I'll go right back to drinking banana daiquiris `til I'm drunk again."
On the bright side, the people that she had encountered on this vacation/slaying trip had been very nice and accommodating. The small village near Lago Whateveritwas provided her with enough gear and information about the tribe she needed to locate. In fact, she had found the obscure tribe of natives with very little trouble. Of course, it helped that they were expecting her. One member of the tribe even spoke a little broken English. The Medicine Man was a little reticent about her until she demonstrated her strength and skill. A couple of the hunters even showed her how to use a blow gun. That was pretty damn cool.
She smacked another stinging insect with a muttered curse and hacked at some underbrush with her machete.
She'd been wandering the jungle for three nights and hadn't yet sighted the demon. She'd seen signs of it around the forest and so she knew she was on the right track but the demon itself remained elusive. The Medicine Man insisted she return to their settlement every morning and report on her progress.
Then the funky dance ritual would commence while Buffy struggled to keep a straight face. After the dance the women of the village would feed her and usher her to a hut at the edge of the settlement, isolated from the rest of the tribe, where she would sleep most of the day away. Around sunset she would awaken and emerge from her domicile, usually with a semicircle of children staring at her. She always smiled at them in greeting and they would always giggle loudly and run away, shrieking with laughter and fun. She would then call Willow or Xander on her one-of-a-kind, magically enhanced satellite phone, to give them an update on the demon slayage. Or in this case, lack thereof.
It was a strange vacation with even stranger food. Some of it quite horrifying. Grubs, for example. They seemed to know about her aversion to eating creepy-crawlies and the women of the tribe made a game of ascertaining what she would like. Almost all the fruits they brought to her, she approved of.
Especially the wild bananas. They were weird looking compared to grocery store bananas. Thicker and short instead of long and slim. The flesh was soft and white but filled with rock-hard, black seeds. The flavor, however was so much better than the grocery store and in greater variety, sometimes sweet, sometimes starchy.
And the colors! Bright green and yellow to magenta and purple. Buffy's favorite were hot pink in color and sugary sweet. They were small and bulbous and the seeds were hard and plentiful but the pleasant taste more than made up for the inconvenience.
As the sun set, The Medicine Man would approach her, followed by the eldest women. Buffy would sit, cross-legged in front of a small fire and the funky dancing would commence. After which, she would be fed and sent into the forest to hunt.
It was turning into a surreal experience. The waxing moon gave the plants a blue, silvery shimmer and the sounds of wildlife became an orchestra of information. She would usually start the night's hunt with grousing and complaining and as it progressed she would fall silent. Her awareness would sharpen as her eyes adjusted to the dark tropical night. Each night she would start her patrol in a familiar area, gradually circling to a new region. The slayer part of her reveled and rejoiced in the wild hunt.
On this night, as she combed through a new part of the jungle, she came across a grove of enormous banana plants. The long leaves cast shadows that even the full moon could not penetrate. A cloud of fruit bats chittered as they settled upon a bunch of ripe and open fruit. Buffy smiled as they argued and fluttered their leathery wings vying for position.
She then caught the sweet, cloying scent of her favorite banana. Following her nose, she wandered about the grove until the scent was so strong, her salivary glands ached as her mouth watered. Looking up, she spotted a cluster of small, swollen bananas, dark purple in the blue light of the full moon. As she gazed at them, one of the bananas burst open with ripeness, bathing Buffy with its delectable smell. "Jackpot!" she murmured to herself.
She pulled out her knife and leapt up, grabbing hold of the base of a big leaf and bracing her feet on the trunk. She cut the thick stem that the fruit was attached to and the bunch fell to the ground with a soft thud. Three more bananas opened at the impact. She dropped lightly to the ground and sat on the forest floor next her prize.
The next fifteen minutes were spent gorging on wild, sweet bananas. Her hands got sticky and she spat out seeds with childish delight. She entertained the thought of saving some seeds and growing her own plant when she got home. When she'd eaten the entire bunch, she sighed with satisfaction and let out a contented belch. As she was licking her fingers clean, she heard a loud thrashing and crunching of underbrush. It's about goddamned time this monster showed up!
She froze mid lick as every part of her went on slayer-alert. She held her breath as she listened.
The shrill sound of the phone stabbed Faith's dark bedroom. She groaned awake and rolled over to look at the clock. 2:56. She grabbed the phone and barked, "What?!"
"Faith?" The voice was feminine and familiar but she couldn't quite place it.
"Yeah," she groused. "Who is this? It's three in the fuckin' mornin'." Her voice was rough and slurred with sleep.
"I'm sorry to be calling you at such a rude hour. It's Willow."
"Willow? As in, Red?" Faith's sleepy voice was incredulous.
"What're doin' callin' me at three in the mornin'? Buffy busy? Gettin' her nails done, or somethin'?"
"No. Buffy's missing."
Willow looked at Xander, the phone still pressed to her ear. "I think she hung up on me!"