From: Bogeymn666@aol.com Subject: BUFFYFIC: i need games 2 Date: 01 Oct 1997 01:24:37 -0400 (EDT) hi i have games 1/1 by samantha and i was mailed parts 3/4 and 4/4 i was wondering what happened to games 2/4 i looked on the list serve sight and on some other sights but cant seem to find it i would greatly apreciate either you sending 2/4 or perhaps explaining why it doesnt exist if thats the case ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Anya Subject: BUFFYFIC: Deep Thoughts 1/1 Date: 03 Oct 1997 18:20:13 -0400 Deep Thoughts by Anya Edited by: Rob "Peter" Ullhorn *SPOILERS: Set immediately after "When She Was Bad" He sat hunchbacked, alone on the steps outside school, staring up at the setting sun. Confusion ran rampant through his mind. The longer he put off trying to sort through it, the louder and louder it got. His world, his entire universe had just gone topsy-turvy, and he didn't have a clue of what to do. Or even where to begin dealing with it. Xander sighed heavily, replaying scene after scene in his minds eye. The first week of school had been an ....experience. In those few short days, he'd done more emotional maturing than he had in the last four years. It was so weird. Feeling so many emotions, in such a short time, only to discover that everything he'd thought, everything he'd felt was all just an illusion. It all began the night before school started, before Buffy had returned. Those silly games as they walked.... the ice cream... and then... God, he had never wanted to kiss anyone as much as he had Willow. It was such a strange yet incredible sensation; the tension, the growing breathless anticipation, the growling of the vampire. The vampire that had interrupted that moment was a real piss-off. For the first time in his life, he had found himself in a "moment" that felt so unbelievably right..and it had slipped completely away with that vampire showing up. "At least he's dust now," he thought. The vengeful smile forming across his face, taking solace in that brief moment of revenge. The thoughts entering his conscious mind however quickly replaced that smile with a frown. Willow was probably grateful to that vampire. After all, hadn't she turned him down over the Spring Fling? "I was a jerk. Asking her out after Buffy did the "just friends" routine." He muttered to himself, absently rubbing his hand across the back of his aching neck. "What was I thinking? I should have never put her in that position. She had every right to tell me to go shove for being so cruel." Then later, at the Bronze. Buffy slinking in seductively, asking him to dance. His every wish, his fondest dreams finally being fulfilled. Her body, sexily grinding against his. Yet despite all that, he felt ...nothing. No spark, no interest. Yes there was lust, yes there was a perverse sense of pleasure at what she was doing, but nothing substantial, no connection. No, seeing Buffy like that, at her bitchiest, awoke a part of himself that he had never known before. Had he ALWAYS felt this way? Was it always this strong? What took him so long to realize? And more importantly, was it real? A dejected sigh ripped from his throat. Standing, he kicked absently at a small pebble on the step, watching it spin and fall. Allowing his feet to follow that stone, he aimlessly wandered down the stairs, and blindly across the courtyard towards the fountain. Since school was out, the campus was virtually deserted. Buffy was in the library, as was Willow. It was supposed to be a quick drop in and leave visit, but he knew better. Xander had elected to take the few minutes to try and get his thoughts in some sort of order. Bending down, he scooped up a small handful of little stones, and began trying to make them skip in the pools of rapidly moving water. As they darted across the surface, his mind replayed the vampire's trap in the library. Just like the jumping pebbles, things had moved quickly. One moment, the threesome had been holding their own, the next thing they knew.... He had heard Willow's scream, and turned to help her just as a vampire grabbed him and threw him into the railing. The last thing he saw was Willow being dragged away, kicking and screaming. When he came to, Willow and Giles were gone, and Buffy was walking in. In retrospect the fury, the rage, and the undeniable near hate he'd felt toward the Slayer shamed him. Yet he had been so afraid for Willow, so afraid she would be hurt or destroyed like Jesse was, so terrified that he would never see her smile again...he lashed out at Buffy. "If they hurt Willow, I'll kill you." Looking back however, he realized how ridiculous it was to even think he could kill the Slayer. It was a pure stroke of luck she hadn't pounded him into the ground for saying that. That, or she was probably too busy trying to keep herself from laughing at his temerity. And yet, he'd meant every word. It unnerved him even more to realize, that if he didn't kill her, he would cheerfully let Buffy kill him. Did his feelings for Willow really run THAT deep? "I thought that was soap-opera melodrama... nobody feels like that, do they?" He muttered, staring down at his wavering reflection. And seeing Willow hanging upside down above the Master's skeletal remains; Xander felt his stomach lurch once more. She was so close to that vampire with the knife. Xander had no doubt that if Angel, Buffy and himself hadn't arrived when they did, Willow would have been the first sacrifice. She was such a tiny person, that the beating she had taken at the library kept her unconscious far longer than the others. While Buffy was doing her little "ridding the world of a few more vampires" routine, he had cradled his friend in his arms, taking comfort in the sight of her steady breathing. When did he fall in love with her? The strength of these feelings weren't new, only his awareness of them were. He could remember the zookeeper, about to kill Willow, and felt the panic again. His Willow. Nobody hurt HIS Willow. But...she didn't want to be his. No, there was some other guy in school that she pined for. She had understood his crush on Buffy so well, empathized so perfectly...there had to be some guy out there that she was so hung up on. And Xander was jealous of him. The only thing he could do is wait, and hope. Maybe one day, Willow would notice her best friend as more than her best friend. He just had to wait. --The End Comments, and criticisms always welcomed! anya@interlinks.net ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Elizabeth Ann Lewis Subject: BUFFYFIC: Bad Feelings and Love Handles (1/1) Date: 04 Oct 1997 09:59:06 -0700 Posting alert! Posting alert! I did not write this. (I'll be posting my own, much twistier story this weekend...) If you liked this story, write to the address below the author's name. And, for the record, it was written before WSWB... ~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~ Bad Feelings and Love Handles by Sheila Marie Lane slane@sunflowr.usd.edu Dedicated, with aggravation, to Chris, Judy, and Beth. And Lizbet: he is definitely "really much a lot better" in person. Standard disclaimers apply. "Owww!" "Sorry," Willow said for the hundredth time as she helped Buffy into a chair in the library. Giles came out of the stacks, took one look, and came running. "What happened?" "Nothing," Buffy said with disgust. "Nothing at all. Xander, quit hovering." Xander gave her an extremely offended look and plopped into the chair next to her. "Willow's hovering. I'm just being concerned." "What happened?" Giles repeated with some force. "Nothing, I told you. I tripped in gym class." "Over me," Willow said miserably. Xander patted Willow's arm. "It's not your fault. You just happened to be there." "And she just *happened* to take a header." "Will! It's okay, really. I promise." But Willow was obviously not convinced. Giles, meanwhile, was down on his knees examining Buffy's right ankle. "Yes, I'd say you definitely sprained it." Buffy looked pained. Willow looked guilty. Xander looked confused. "Wait a minute. How is it that you fight all kinds of demons, monsters, and what-have-you and barely breathe hard. But--" "But." Buffy said with a wince as Giles probed. "But I take a header in gym class. Gee, I'm lucky." She rolled her eyes. "I am *so* sorry, Buffy." Buffy reached over and tugged one of Willow's braids. "Stop it, silly. Or I'll sprain *your* ankle." Willow looked rather as though she'd feel better if Buffy did, but she subsided. "Well, stay off it," Giles said finally. "Slayers heal faster than most, but they still need to heal. Go home and rest." "No slaying? Way cool." Buffy grinned. "I'm gonna go home, suck down the Motrin, and watch bad movies on cable." "Sounds like a plan," Xander said with a grin. "Can I come?" "Sure! How about you, Willow?" "Uh...I don't know." Willow kept her head down and her face blank, anyway. "I'll get back to you. Bye. Sorry." As she disappeared out the door, Buffy turned to Xander with a frown. "For no apparent reason, I have a bad feeling." He looked down at her bag. "You might be wrong." "About the bad feeling?" "No, the non-apparent reason. Don't you usually carry a stake in here?" She twisted to look. "Yeah--it's gone! Willow!" She jumped to her feet, then sank back down with a moan. Xander sighed. Visions of semi-dates with Buffy floated above his head, then disappeared. "No. I'll go." Giles watched him hurry out the door, then turned to Buffy. "Now I *really* have a bad feeling," she said darkly. ***** Xander found Willow, as he had expected to, curled next to a tombstone in the graveyard looking incredibly scared. "Willow, what the heck do you think you're doing?" He crouched down beside her. "It's not even dark yet, for cripe's sake." "I know. But I didn't want to come in when it was dark." "Uh-huh. So you decided to come in..." He checked his watch. "At two-thirty?" She shrugged. "I didn't have anything better to do." He scooted closer to her. "I know you better than that, Willow. You're embarrassed, and you're guilty, and you're afraid Buffy's mad at you and hiding it. So you came out here to brood." She looked over at him in astonishment. "Where did all that come from?" He shrugged. "We've been buds since preschool, Willow. I was bound to get a handle on you at some point." She snickered. "What?" "A handle on me?" "Well..." She snickered again. "Stop that!" "I'm sorry. It's just...the mental picture..." She trailed off into laughter. He glared at her for a moment, then a really evil light flashed into his eyes. "Oh, really." And before she could react, he had her down on the ground as his fingers poked her sides. "Aaah!" "No handles here..." "Xander, stop that!" "And none here. Hm, wonder if..." "Eeeee!" "Okay, there's a possibility. Hey!" And Xander collapsed on the ground as Willow found the particularly ticklish spot at the base of his ribs. ***** Fifteen minutes later, they were both covered in grass and completely exhausted. Willow panted several times before finding the breath to say, "Get off me, you oaf." "Who you callin' an oaf?" Xander tried to summon the strength for revenge and failed. He propped most of his weight on his arms and looked down at Willow. He looked down at her for a long, time, in fact, until she shifted under him. "What?" "I don't know." He kept looking. "You're a pretty girl, Willow Ann." She caught her breath and tried to smile normally. "You haven't said that to me in a long time. Years." "It's still true." They stared at each other for a moment more, then Xander looked away and rolled off her. "Come on. You can't protect the world until after dark anyway, and you've already missed most of last period. Let's go get a Coke." "Okay." Willow let Xander pull her to her feet. They brushed each other off, trying to laugh and not quite making it. Xander grabbed her hand and started off. Willow hung back. "Xander?" "Yeah?" She waited until he turned back. Then she went up on tiptoe and kissed him. He looked at her for a moment. "Oh." "Oh?" She swallowed hard. "That's all you have to say? Oh?" "Yeah." He smiled, slowly, then took her hand again, linking their fingers together. Willow looked up at him. She knew she was blushing. "Oh." "Come on." Celli Sheila Marie Lane willow slane@sunbird.usd.edu ----- -------------------------------------------------- "He looks really much a lot better in person." --Lizbet ===== ====HeLLLion====SunS====Prophile/BL====RFW/MFW==== http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/4928 "See? Whenever we fight, you always bring up the vampire thing." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Elizabeth Ann Lewis Subject: BUFFYFIC: Mourning Light (1/1) Date: 04 Oct 1997 10:02:57 -0700 Nope, this one's not mine either. You know the drill... ~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~ Mourning Light by Sheila Marie Lane slane@sunflowr.usd.edu Dedicated to Leslie--I *will* return the favor someday--and David. *sigh* Standard disclaimers apply. Angel sighed and turned over. The morning light was bothering him--wait a minute, the morning light wasn't supposed to be there. He yawned and tried to forget it, but it was *really* annoying him. Besides, someone was knocking on his door. "Angel! Angel! Wake up!" He ignored the rattling of the door handle as long as possible--until the very real worry that Buffy might try to kick the door in occurred to him. "O-kay! Hold on." Jeans...where were his jeans? He finally dug them out from under his bed. He debated looking for his shirt, too, but there were some ominous sounds coming from the door... It was fairly amusing to see Buffy gape at him when he opened the door. He must remember to strip more often. "What *is* it?" he asked, trying to hold on to his annoyance. "What is *is,*" she mocked, "is a glorious day. And you promised to go to the movies with me this afternoon." "Oh, jeez, is it afternoon already?" He looked over at the window and blinked. No wonder the light hadn't seemed right. It was afternoon light. Wasn't it? He stood there, confused, for a moment, but Buffy was shaking his arm. "Yo! Angel! Snap out of it. Night owl," she said with a laugh. "Come on, drag a shirt over those glorious pecs and let's *go*!" The darkness of the movie theater was blessed relief to Angel. "I think I have a sunburn already," he groused. "Shhhhh!" Buffy stopped watching "George of the Jungle" long enough to poke him in the side. He sneered one more time, considered going back to sleep, then finally snuck Buffy's hand into his--and some of her popcorn into his mouth, while he was at it--and started trying to follow the plot. Weird tasting popcorn. Of course, what did he know? He hadn't had popcorn in--never mind. The movie was actually amusing. So was picking Buffy up off the floor when one particular scene involving a coffee commercial had her in hysterics. "Okay, I admit it," Angel finally said. "It was fun. Not really my style, but fun." Buffy looked smug. "Stop that." "What?" "That see-all, know-all look." She stuck her tongue out at him. "There, is that better?" The sun was getting way, way too hot. Angel knew he'd have to head home soon, or he was going to be duller than ashes. Er, duller than dirt. Er-- He grabbed Buffy and kissed her. She made a startled "eek," then hung on for dear life. He bent her back over his arm, started kissing his way down her neck-- And woke abruptly when the pillow he was clutching broke. "Damn," he said, looking down at the feathers all over the bed. "Not another one." And he wasn't talking about the pillow. At dusk, Angel stood at the window, watching the shade over it glow with the light outside. It dimmed and dimmed, until finally he could lift it up and stare at the stars above. Tucked tightly into his hand was a single feather. the end Celli Sheila Marie Lane willow slane@sunbird.usd.edu ----- -------------------------------------------------- "He looks really much a lot better in person." --Lizbet ===== ====HeLLLion====SunS====Prophile/BL====RFW/MFW==== http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/4928 "See? Whenever we fight, you always bring up the vampire thing." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Lisa Rose Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Lady Came from Sunnydale Date: 04 Oct 1997 12:15:46 -0700 The Lady Came from Sunnydale (To the tune of "The Lady Came from Baltimore") The lady came from Sunnydale She owned a gallery place She joked with me that I was pale I wore my human face Chorus: I was sent to kill her daughter Drain her blood and run But I fell in love with Ms. Summers Came away with none Though lady Joyce was always sweet Her daughter killed my kind Joyce didn't know what I must eat It never crossed her mind Chorus She locked her house's doors each night To keep the dark things out She never stopped to see it right That's what I'm about Chorus Her daughter said I was a fiend Who fed on people's blood To Joyce I was a human being I married her for love Chorus (Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Elizabeth Ann Lewis Subject: BUFFYFIC: Three of Spades (1/1) Date: 04 Oct 1997 21:14:30 -0700 The characters and concepts of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are not mine. Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, Sandollar, etc, etc, have all legal and monetary rights. I just get them waking me up at all hours of the morning demanding that I tell their stories, that's all... As always, for the Sunnydale Slayers. This time they shuddered instead of cooing. Praise, flames, chocolate and tall, dark, undead angsty guys to lizbet@primenet.com *~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~* Three of Spades by Elizabeth Ann Lewis England, 1818 Old Nick's Tavern, on the road from London to Dover Billy cursed under his breath at the last of the travelers who stumbled up the stairs, to bed and wives and sleep. They left him the dregs of their bottles, and not enough time to clear their purses of gold. Not nearly enough time. The rich, the idle, the careless poured forth from London, dreaming of the continent, barred to them for so long by a generation of unrelenting war. Their minds were fixed on Greek statues and French women, not on whether the friendly chap they met in a tavern was dealing from the top or the bottom of the deck. Billy made a tidy sum that way, hazing their minds with wine and stealing their gold with cards. It had occurred to him -- often -- that it might have been easier to simply steal their purses outright. Before he had left London -- before he had fled the Town to save his own sorry skin -- he hadn't flinched from doing what needed to be done, whether it was cutting a purse or cutting a throat. But it was more of a challenge, this way. And he hungered for a challenge. Tonight, however, all he hungered for was more. More play, more gold, more wine, more blackness spreading out and out, blanketing him, blanking him. Oblivion was what he sought, wanted until he began to wonder if the opium addict's pipe was truly as disgusting as it looked. All he had were the cards that he restlessly shuffled and reshuffled, their sound a purr in the still night. Out here, on the road, in this filthy tavern, he couldn't make half the money that he had in London. In London they had feared him where he walked the nighttime streets. Here he was affable Billy, charming bloke, always willing for a round of ale and a round of whist. And the charm sickened him until it was a poison eating out his mind. The innkeeper paused his considerable bulk by the cracked table Billy occupied. "Time's up," he said, not unkindly. Everyone thereabouts liked Billy. "Seek your own bed, boy. Get you gone." Billy's hand closed convulsively on the knife he wore beneath his coat. ~One moment. Just one. That's all it'd take. Then his gut would lie open like a fish's and his mouth would gape like one. Just one. Just one...~ The bloodlust didn't haze Billy's mind, but sharpened it. Enough that it wasn't a footstep or a breath of sound that made him aware of the third person in the main room of the tavern -- just feral senses honed to a point that made him look up to meet dark eyes. The newcomer was perfectly positioned to see the knife gleaming, barely slipping free from its sheath, under the table and out of sight of the rotund innkeeper who had no idea how close silver death waited. Not best pleased at having his sport interrupted -- although he knew quite well that in another moment the knife would have gone back into its sheath and he would have gone docilely home, Billy leaned back in his chair, his pose that of the lord of the manor, master of all he surveyed. The night might not yet be lost. Anyone fool enough to travel at night when the highwaymen lurked was fool enough to fall into a game of cards with him. And he was a rich one, too. His clothes were tailored close to his body in a fit that screamed of wealth, the fabric finer than anything Billy had touched in his wretched lifetime. A gold watch gleamed at the brocade waistcoat, and a silver ring winked from his hand. A fob, a dandy, and a fool. Billy smiled, not even bothering to hide the predatory intent that prompted him. He'd be dining well tomorrow. The innkeeper bustled over to his new guest, full of self-importance and fawning desire for his lordship's comfort. Even if his guest was not a lord, it never failed to make the gentry more generous to be called such. With three words and a sweet smile, the newcomer had the innkeeper stumbling back, his florid face gone white with fury or fear -- or both? Swinging the cloak from his shoulders, the dark man crossed the room to sit at the table with Billy. Restlessly, the cards continued their endless shuffling song, a pitch that raised and lowered, raised and lowered. "Care for a game?" Billy asked casually, ignoring the sting of sweat that had broken out on his body. Half of it was from pure covetousness, wanting the rich fabrics, the gold, the easy life. And half of it was from wondering if he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing in the stranger's eyes. He'd seen a man go mad, once, seen it happen right before him. And the eyes... had gone calm, tranquil as the man had used a broken bottle to tear a man to pieces. Very clear, very sure. "I'm always ready for a game -- if the stakes are high enough." A cultured voice, carefully trained to sound precisely as it was meant to sound. Billy's senses sharpened again. He'd heard voices like that before, when those who had clawed their way out of the muck had tried to ape gentile manners. For hours the cards kept up their steady fall, gleaming ivory on the dark wood. Ladies danced and bowed to kings -- and fell, when it suited the king's pleasure. Billy's pleasure was of a different kind, gold and gold and more gold piling up before his hands. So much gold, a bright, shiny mass... his eyes dazzled in its reflection until he could see nothing but its glorious sunlit color. Blinded by light, he did not notice when the gold began to disappear. It wasn't until the stranger tossed a handful of coins into the pot and called to see his cards that Billy realized that he didn't have enough to match his opponent's bet. With a shock that chilled him to his soul, he realized he'd lost every ha'penny that he had won from the weak, foolish fop, and every penny of his own besides. Billy's breath began coming in puffs, each exhalation a denial of reality. "No... how did you... it can't... I can't..." "Ah." One short word sliced through Billy's burgouing hysteria. Damn his black eyes, he hadn't even broken into a sweat. "Well, then. Shall I propose one final game?" "I told you, I haven't got any more," Billy said fiercely. "And why would you want it? You don't need money." "Who said we would be playing for money? Here's the rules: we each pull one card out of the deck. I'll shuffle, if you don't mind. You pull the high card, and you can take anything of mine you wish. I pull the high card -- and I can take anything of yours." Billy's eyes narrowed as he watched his opponent across the table. He'd seen some perversions in London -- participated in some, if the truth be told -- and yet that wasn't what the gentleman had in mind. Billy didn't know what his opponent wanted from him -- or with him. But he did know what he would take if he pulled the high card: everything. And he knew what he had to lose if he pulled the low: nothing. Grinning, Billy handed the deck over to his dark-haired opponent. "Whatever you want, mate." Long-fingered hands were surprisingly dexterous with the aging deck, shuffling and blending the pasteboard with ease. In a few moments, a fan spread out on the table between himself and Billy. "Pick a card," he invited. With a hesitance he didn't quite understand, Billy slid one card from the rest of its kind and flipped it over. The three of spades. Unless Billy got very, very lucky, he'd lost the bet. With a quick moment in the dim light, a hand flashed out and turned over another card. The king of hearts, with his axe held at the ready. For a moment, in the uncertain light, Billy thought he saw the bloodred heart bleeding across the card. Before he could blink to clear his sight, the card disappeared, along with the rest, along with the gold and the table and everything on it. The languid, indolent fop hauled him up by his collar, and his eyes gleamed the shade of the coins fallen on the hearth. "This is what I will take," he snarled, his face distorted into the mask of Hell. In a lifetime spent fighting in a world that would as easily slit your throat as breath a word, Billy had never lost a fight. He lost one then. Knives gashed into the skin of his neck, burning with a bright agony that made the blood pouring across his flesh seem cold in comparison. He flailed like a rat caught in a terrier's grip, pathetically unable to protect himself. The weak light dimmed and faded, flickering until Billy wondered if it was the beginning flames of perdition he was seeing rather than the warm hearthfire. Cold stones, under his cheek. He couldn't move. He could feel his heart beating, shallowly, rapidly, trying desperately to move blood that no longer coursed it his body. But his senses still focused on the stranger than knelt beside him. "Tell me... do you want to live, or do you want to die?" He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't give the answer that his tormenter seemed to want. Watching his struggles for a few moments, the last, helpless flop of a fish caught on dry land, the stranger finally laughed. "I'll assume you want to live." This time, the blood that flowed across his face felt warm on his death-chilled skin. It trickled into his mouth, and set up a hunger, a thirst, more powerful than any Billy had ever known. It didn't matter that he could barely move, that his nemesis had proven and reproven that he was stronger. He... needed... *more*, and would be willing to fight to the last moment of life to get it. Later, he would dimly recall clamping his face against the cuts the stranger had made on his own neck. Then, his understanding was narrowed down the the blood that flowed into him, more and more, rich and powerful. And, with the blood, the sense of *other*, the demon that took residence in the twisted place where his soul used to be. A century, a year, a moment later, Billy stirred, blinked like a child waking from a nap. The stranger's clothes were stained with blood but otherwise barely disordered, and the amused, arrogant light still lit his dark eyes. "What's your name?" he asked, his voice no more than casually curious. "B--" Billy checked himself. "William the Bloody," he said instead, pride ringing. "William the Bloody, hmm?" Leaning close, the stranger smiled. "Let's see you live up to that name, shall we?" ******** High Priestess Lizbet of the CoJ ~*~ lizbet@primenet.com Co-List Mummy, Sunnydale Slayers: "Spank your inner moppet." "I just LOVE these new toys that come with a new list! Woo-hoooo!" -- Anya "Willow had a mental image of the two of them with Giles saying sternly, 'Repeat after me, please. "The lady often slays on rainy days."'"--Elaine, "Cuppa" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Lisa Rose Subject: BUFFYFIC: Cage of the Burning Sun Date: 05 Oct 1997 14:52:10 -0700 CAGE OF THE BURNING SUN (To the tune of "House of the Rising Sun") There is a cage in Sunnydale Hung in the burning sun It's been the ruin of a poor little boy They called "Anointed One" His mother died at vampire hands When crash did go their bus His sire was the Master, Lord Before that man was dust Now the only thing a vampire needs Is a dark place and some blood And the only kind keeps it satisfied Is thick young crimson crud It fills its mouth up to the brim Then passes its victims 'round And the only pleasure it gets outta death Is heartbreakin' this town Oh Mother, tell your children Not to do what Anointed's done End their lives writhing in agony In the Cage of the Burning Sun He'd vampire skin and vampire soul But face of a little boy His final thought as flesh flamed hot Was Mom, the bus, his toy All kids who come to Sunnydale Your race will sure be run If you should land in vampire hands And the Cage of the Burning Sun (Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose) This song is now in "Traditional Songs" section of the Little Buffy Page at: http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Lisa Rose Subject: BUFFYFIC: Addicted to Blood Date: 05 Oct 1997 18:35:22 -0700 ADDICTED TO BLOOD (To the tune of "Addicted to Love" by Robert Palmer) The lights are on, your soul's not home Your neck is not your own We're tradin' blood, yours sure tastes fine Another sip and you'll be mine Goodbye to food, goodbye to sleep Just feel my fangs, they're in so deep Your throat is wet, now you don't breathe Just one more sip, you'll start to teethe Chorus: You used to think you would gag on the stuff, oh yeah But after our exchange, you can't get enough And now you've even got a gameface... You're addicted to blood! You see old friends, you feel the need They all say "hi!," you whisper "bleed" Their hearts beat, there in your mind Who'd think a pulse could feel so fine? A blood-starved fiend, you can't be saved Hemoglobin is all you crave If someone asks to walk with you Heaven help them if you do Chorus Might as well face it, you're addicted to blood! (X4) The lights are on, your soul's not home Your body's not your own Your lungs die, your teeth bite Another sip, child of the night... Chorus Might as well face it, you're addicted to blood! (X8) (Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose; title suggested by Jen Hawthorne) This song is now in "Pop Songs" section of the Little Buffy Page at: http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: romana@mindspring.com (sah) Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN: List rules Date: 06 Oct 1997 10:05:43 -0400 (EDT) 1. Fiction should have Buffy characters in it and clearly be related to Buffy. Crossovers are great, and expected, but general vampire/monster stories that aren't in the Buffy universe and don't use Buffy characters belong somewhere else. 2. Discussion of posted fiction is permitted onlist. Please put "DISCUSS" in your subject line. Requests for missing story parts should go directly to the author, and not be posted to the list. Discussion that is not related directly to the fiction should go over to the general Buffy list. Discussion of fiction is expected to follow common netiquette guidelines and use PG-13 language. 3. No advertising of items or services, Buffy related or not, and no posting of non-story items such as .gifs, sound files, etc.. No attached files of kind-- if your mailer makes your fiction into attached files, you need to find another way to get it to the list. 4. If you're writing a story and including advance information on a new episode, and you're posting your story earlier than the national viewing time, please: **Mark the post as a "spoiler" in the subject header. **Leave about twelve lines (blank or with non-spoiler info) at the top of the post. This ensures that anyone w*o doesn't like knowing about an episode ahead of time is "protected." :) The blank space is for people whose mailers automatically open up the next piece of mail, without giving them a chance to see "spoiler" in the header. Spoiler warnings are not necessary after the start of the episode's national viewing time, which is currently set at 9 p.m. Mondays, Eastern Standard Time. Spoiler warnings are not necessary for reruns. 5. This list is absolutely NOT for erotic fiction. stronger than sexually PG-13 material is to be posted to the list under any circumstances. A story may be R rated for violence or language, however. 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PLEASE NOTE: not following any or all of these rules will get you the following: **First offense: offender is uns*bscribed for one week. **Second offense: offender is uns*bscribed to the Buffyfic list for a minimum of three months. **If the offender returns and does it again, they're offlist permanently. As noted above, posting sexually explicit material is the exception -- you go straight to permanent unsubbing. Again, welcome! If you have any questions about these rules, please contact either one of us offlist. If you have subscription problems or questions, the fastest way to get h*lp is to e-mail one of us at the addresses below, at the kirby@xmission.com addy which is the "official" e-mail owner of the list. Jill Kirby (jtkirby@mcs.com) & Sharon Himmanen (romana@mindspring.com) Listowners, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fiction List buffyfic@xmission.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Lisa Rose Subject: BUFFYFIC: Cage of the Burning Sun (Completely Revised) Date: 07 Oct 1997 12:16:41 -0700 CAGE OF THE BURNING SUN (To the tune of "House of the Rising Sun") There is a cage in Sunnydale Exposed to the burning sun A solar oven for that poor little vamp They called "The Anointed One" His mother died at vampire hands When fangboys crashed their bus His sire was the Master, Lord Before that man was dust Now the only thing the Master did Was drain blood from some girl And make a kid in his fruitless bid To raise Hell in the world He sent his lackeys up above Then chortled to his son And the only pleasure he got outta life Was in killin' everyone Oh mother, warn your children Not to do as Colin's done End their lives writhing in agony In the Cage of the Burning Sun With vampire teeth and vampire soul But the face of a little boy His final thought as his skin got hot Was "Rosebud," his airplane toy All you who come to Sunnydale Don't ride the bus, but run! Lest you may land in vampire hands And the Cage of the Burning Sun (Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose) These and other lyrics may be found at: http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Megan Lee" Subject: BUFFYFIC: Tallulah (part 1 of about 10 parts, more or less) Date: 08 Oct 1997 16:30:00 PDT Disclaimer: I do not own any of the regular Buffy characters they are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and the WB channel. I do claim ownership of those characters that live out their lives in my imagination and on my computer, like Tallulah and Company. The song "Die with Me" is property of the band Type O Negative. Please do not sue me, because I am already very much in debt. Thank you. 8o-) *NOTE:I am not sure as to how many parts this will be as I am still writing most of it. Please be patient and I will try to get the rest of the parts up ASAP. Please send any comments or criticims on over to me. I'd appreciate them. Now on with the Show. Take Care Wolfka Tallulah based on the television series “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” Shadows lay deep, sparked here and there, by the pinpricks of civilized light at contrast with the wild stars above. The night is hushed as the watcher gazes down on this small picturesque town above the Hellmouth. Down there are the ones she seeks, the ones who are fighting the darkness with the passions in their heart. Down there is the chosen Slayer and her Watcher. They, the Slayer and her watcher, are different from those from before. They are not alone in their battle against the vampires, demons and forces of evil, they have a band of friends who help them. Four of them are human, a boy, two girls and a woman, who is a witch but not a witch. The last one is inhuman, one of the undead, a vampire with a soul. That in and of itself is something one does not see everyday, the night watcher well knows. A vampire with a soul is a strange bird, especially, when he is attracted to the one who is sworn to rid the world of vampires. Looking down the night watcher smiles, as she contemplates the days ahead. Glancing at her companions she strokes their heads and murmurs softly to them, “Time to go make some memories, my friends. Way past time.” ********** The Bronze. The one place in town where it’s OK for young people to hang out. To listen to bands and relax. As usual, it’s smoky and rich with the noises of people having a peaceful evening listening to various bands. The dance floor moves like a wind blown grain field, as couples dance slowly to the sounds of a romantic song. In a dark corner, a young girl is in the arms of someone much older than she. Her fair hair is spread out over the black velvet shoulder of her companion, his head near hers as he talks into her ear. Near them a boy and a girl sit comparing notes on the snobbish Cordelia. Looking over the fair haired girl throws in a rude comment about the brain capacity of said Cordelia and the little band of merrymakers laugh and smile. As the last dance ends, the stage darkens as a gauzy curtain falls across the front. A hush falls over the Bronze as the crowd waits for the next offering to be made at their sacrificial alter. The sounds of a changing of the bands is heard and then silence. Silence and darkness. Out of that silence comes a soft tinkling of ivory piano keys being touched gently. Slowly in the darkness, a tune is built with just that one instrument singing it’s soul. The tune is quiet, soothing, reminiscent of a brook babbling over well placed stones. The fair haired girl, who’s name is Buffy, feels the man next to her stiffen as the piano music changes. The music becomes less whimsical, and more dark and brooding by the second. Looking up at her companion she whispers, “Angel?” The man looks down at her, his face a mask of agony, his eyes so full of pain that he looks like a stranger. “Angel what is it?” she whispers again, touching him gently on the arm. “Please, what is the matter?” He rudely shakes off her arm, and tries to insist that it is nothing. But as the music plays on Buffy sees that he is getting more and more disturbed. Then the thin layer of gauze the only barrier between the crowd and the band is raised. Seated at a baby grand piano is a young woman. It is her hands that touch the keys evoking emotions that are at once raw, throbbing agony to hear and yet oddly gentle, soothing to the soul. Buffy hears her friend Xander inhale sharply as the woman is revealed, and with good reason. She is in a word, beautiful. Her flawless pale skin offsets her dark eyes and ruby red mouth. About her shoulders tumbles a wild mass of hair, it’s blackness haloed in a burgundy sheen. Her outfit is simple, a long hunter green velvet dress, drapes about her and spills out onto the floor. At her feet sprawls a large silver ruffed wolf who’s green eyes are fastened on Angel. On top of the piano, a black cat lays elegantly, it’s green eyes are also fastened on Angel. The intensity of their gazes cause Buffy to shiver, it’s as if these creatures knew who and what Angel is. As Buffy notices all of this, the music reaches it’s soul wrenching climax and then there is silence. Wrenching her gaze from the stage Buffy looks up at Angel and says to him quietly, “who is she Angel? At least tell me that.” Angel looks down slowly at her and in a pain edged whisper replies, “She is the one who gave me back my soul at the command of the Romany. She is the one who brought me again into this world as close to a human as a vampire can be. She is called Tallulah, the memory maker. She is more to me than you can even guess.” As the last words leave his mouth, he turns his back on Buffy, on the once again tinkling music and flees the Bronze. He never sees the shock registering on Buffy’s face, never sees the woman at the piano smile sadly as she watches him leave. ******** ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Megan Lee" Subject: BUFFYFIC: Tallulah (part 2 of 10 parts more or less) Date: 08 Oct 1997 16:40:40 PDT Disclaimer: I do not own any of the regular Buffy characters they are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and the WB channel. I do claim ownership of those characters that live out their lives in my imagination and on my computer, like Tallulah and Company. The song "Die with Me" is property of the band Type O Negative. Please do not sue me, because I am already very much in debt. Thank you. 8o-) Tallulah based on the Television Series Buffy the Vampire Slayer ********* “Hey Buff, what was all that about? Did Angel get a little frisky with you?” a slightly mocking voice breaks into Buffy’s shock. Shaking her head slight she looks over to see her friends Xander and Willow watching her. Xander is leaning into Willow, an arm thrown casually around her shoulders, a smile on his face, eyes guiless. Beside him with her arm around his waist and trying to not fall over, Willow stops smiling. She has noticed that Buffy is genuinely disturbed, and her eyes darken with concern. “Buffy what is it?” she asks. Still shaking her head Buffy, replies softly in a hurt edged voice to Xander’s previous question, “No he wasn’t getting frisky. He ... he said that the girl on the stage was someone out of his past. That she was the one who made him human.” Xander’s eyes widened as he grasped the meaning in Buffy’s words. “That.. that would make her a ... a ... help me out Will, what’s the word I am looking for?” he asked desperately. Speaking at the same time Willow exclaimed, “But that would make her a witch! And she’d be at least a hundred years old by now!” Raising his eyes to the ceiling Xander breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you Willow, that was the word I needed.” He gave her a quick hug to tell her no harm should be taken by his sarcastic words. “Yeah, really, that’s what she’d be and that’s how old she’d have to be. But unless my Slayer senses are bugging out on me now, they are also telling me that she is also a vampire. A very powerful vampire.” Buffy replied, her tone dry. “A Vamp? Man, why are all the beautiful girls of the supernatural kind?” Xander exclaimed. Behind them, the object of their scrutiny gets up from the piano, steps gracefully over the wolf and goes up to the microphone. “Good Evening everyone. My name is Tallulah and I want to thank you for having us here.” her voice was rich, sophisticated, the slightest accent burring through her words. Behind her other members of the band came out onto the stage, carrying the various implements of their instruments. “We have a few songs of our own, although we are still at the stage where covers of other band’s songs are a major part of our repetoire. We hope you do not mind. For our first song we would like to do, is a song by Type O Negative, called “Die With Me.” Behind her, a tall man with a guitar started to strum at the stings, the chords forming a rich backdrop to the words. His voice is soothing, plaintive, singing of a last wish that will never come true. “Now like a bird She flew away To Chase her dreams Of books and praise Still I miss her Yeah I miss her Since she’s gone...” Over the music, Buffy turned to her friends and said “Let’s go see Giles. He might have a clue as to what is going on. Then again maybe not.. but I need to get out of here.” Grabbing her purse and leather jacket Buffy started for the door. Xander looked at Willow and they both shrugged. “To the library it is then... Hey Buff wait up!” They raced after her. Behind them the band played on, the singer asking plaintively “If this time were the last time Could I hold you all life long? Since this time is the last time Can I hold you all night long? Still I miss her Yeah I miss her Since she’s gone” ******** “Are you sure that the woman who supposedly changed Angel is a witch and a vampire?” Giles asked his disbelief plain on his face. “Hello Giles! I know what my senses tell me, and I don’t see how an ordinary woman could have changed Angel like that without some help from her magical friends!” Buffy exclaimed in exasperation. They were gathered in the library, she, Giles, Willow, Xander and Jenny Calender. The glow from the overheads bathed them all in a ruddy glow. Giles sat at a table piled high with various tomes of vampire lore and prophecies. His hair is all mussed up and he is wearing his normal apparel of rumpled slept in clothing. Beside him Jenny and Willow sit scanning the Internet on two different computers for any accounts of vampires who might also be witches. Xander sprawls in a chair, a book on one knee as he looks over Willow’s shoulder, and pays scant attention to the conversation, which is in it’s 4th go around. “Why don’t you believe me?” Buffy asked, throwing her hands up in the air as she paced the room. “It’s not that I don’t believe you Buffy, it’s just that... well... I have never in my life heard of such a thing happening. I haven’t seen it any of the books I have read. I just want to make sure we have all the facts before we start thinking too hard.” “Oh, and when has that stopped you before?” Giles just looked over his glasses at her. “To quote you.... ‘that was harsh.’” Sitting back he ran his hands through his hair, making it stand further out on end. “Rupert,” Jenny said quietly, as she looked up from her computer. “You may be wrong about there never being any record of such a being. I just got an email from a good friend of mine, Snugglebunny,” Xander broke up in laughter over the name, repeating it over and over. Giving him a cold look Jenny went on, “she is faxing over a copy of an old diary she has. Her great grandmother was in a romany clan, and in it she writes of a young woman who’s skin was pale, lips blood red, hair like ebony, who lived with her clan.” “Hmmm sounds like Snow White to me.” Xander stated deadpan. “Mirror mirror on the wall who’s the fairest of them all.” He suddenly cackled like the Disney witch from the movie. Elbowing her friend sharly in the ribs, Willow said “Cut it out Xander. You’re not helping.” Just then the fax machine beeped loudly. Rushing over to it, Giles started to fight with Buffy over the possesion of the document. Jenny walked over calmly and snatched the paper from their grasping hands. “I will take that, thank you very much. Hmmm these are the recipes I asked for. Oh good. The next fax will be the one you would like to see Rupert.” As if on cue, the fax machine beeped again. Giving his young charge a stern glare, Giles gently took the sheaf of papers from the machine and started to scan. He began to pace, his face growing very stern, as he concentrated on the old text. “Ah, I believe this is what we were looking for....Supposedly this woman was traveling about alone when the clan picked her up and allowed her to travel with them. Oh wait she wasn't completely alone, she had two companions, a large dog and a black cat,” turning suddenly Giles looked at Buffy. “Didn’t you say that there was a wolf and a cat on the stage tonight?” Nodding with her eyes on the floor, Buffy tried hard to block out the memory of those eyes. Looking up she met Giles’ gaze. “They were really weird Giles, they both had green eyes, and all the while they just stared at Angel as though they knew exactly who and what he was.” “Hmph. Well this may well be the same woman. Snugglebunny’s great grandmother writes of her as having a lot of power, and that she only wished to go out at dusk. Hmmm. It also states that there was a trouble in another clan and the woman went to solve it. She returned with a young man, who left several days later. The great grandmother describes him as the most beautiful man she had ever seen.” Buffy breathed in slowly and then exhaled, “Angel.” “So it would seem.” “I’ve got to talk to him. Now, tonight.” Grabbing her jacket, she turned to Xander and Willow, “Please, stay here. I want to see him alone.” “No prob Buf. I think there is a banana split calling my name.. how about you Willow?” Xander turned to his best friend bopping her lightly on the head with his book. “Sure. Take Care Buffy.” Willow managed to get out before she started to tickle Xander. “Thanks guys....” Buffy started for the door, her pace quick, agitated. Giles took a step after her..”Buffy..” Looking back at him, Buffy smiled and said “Yes, Giles, I know. Be careful.” Then she was gone. ********* On a hill top across town, Angel stood looking up at the stars. ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Lisa Rose Subject: BUFFYFIC: Little Buffy Movie Section! Date: 09 Oct 1997 18:25:53 -0700 The Summers family is adding a new room to their Little Buffy house for "Little Buffy's Movies"! It's a small list of movies now (at five), but it's bound to grow. You can find it by clicking on "Little Buffy's Recreation" at: http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html As a little sample, I include item #5 below, because both the movie and TV episode that inspired it were just released and aired respectively: 5. KISS THE BOYS (and make them shrivel) - A centuries-old Peruvian mummy (Tiffani Amber Thiessen) just wants to be like any other normal high school girl. But in doing so she leaves in her wake a string of desiccated boyfriends like so many emptied juice boxes in a high-school lunchroom. The local slayer (Ashley Judd) is baffled as to how to recognize and terminate Little Miss "Candy from the Andes" before she strikes again. And the danger is closer to home than she realizes! Her only hope lies in Xander Harris (Morgan Freeman), "the boy who got away." Lisa Keeper of Little Spike's "Bite Me Elmo" Doll ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Lisa Rose Subject: BUFFYFIC: Violent Night Date: 10 Oct 1997 15:00:55 -0700 The 13th (gotta love that number!) and final installment in "Little Buffy's Christmas Songs" VIOLENT NIGHT (To the tune of "Silent Night") Violent night, unholy night! Watch your back, classmates bite 'Round blonde Slayer, thrust after thrust Vampires perish in poofs of bright dust Sweep them up if you please Sweep them up if you please Violent night, unholy night! Young vamps run from this fight. Scattering clouds say she's got the Right Stuff Willow and Xander scream "Way to go, Buff!" Come on and face her, it's cool Come on and face her, you fool Violent night, unholy night! Joyce's kid gets it right Stakes flash brightly, her crossbow it sings Feel the peace that a good slaying brings! Creeps, you picked the wrong town Creeps, come turn sandy and brown (Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose) http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: dalton.spence@hwcn.org Subject: BUFFYFIC: Fwd: Fanzine: This is not a threat!! Date: 11 Oct 1997 10:52:12 -0400 (EDT) This reply has also been sent to the newsgroups. On 9 Oct 1997 23:29:50 GMT in the alt.tv.buffy-v-slayer newsgroup, vampslyr13@aol.com (VampSlyr13) wrote: > Okay, it seems that you all took my threat of a Buffy fanzine as a joke. I > AM > NOT JOKING! :) I am planning on publishing a Buffy the Vampire Slayer > fanzine. However, it will only work if you all contribute! If anyone has > any, or would like to write stories, poems, essays, or draw pictures to > contribute, that would be great! My only request is that it has not been > published previously anywhere else, in print or on the 'net. > You can email me at vampslyr13@aol.com for more details or to contribute. > Also > looking for ideas for a title. > Micki Nice idea, Micki. I hope no one minds, but I'm forwarding this message to the buffy-beta and buffyfic mailing lists. I know you want *unpublished* fanfic, but I'm sure that some of the authors who post here will be willing to whip something up just for you. ;-)= -- +-------------------------------------------------+ | Dalton S. Spence, B.Sc. | | Home Page: http://www.hwcn.org/~ag775/home.html | +-------------------------------------------------+ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: perridox@enteract.com (Perri Smith) Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (1/8) Date: 11 Oct 1997 22:55:28 -0500 (CDT) This is part of the Chaos challenge that got started over on the Sunnydale Slayers list, to retell episodes from the point of view of someone other than Buffy. Chris Kamnikar started it with her stories 'Mad Moon in Scorpio' and 'Shadow of an Apocalypse' (blatent plug), so I got into the act. This would be 'Angel', from the POV of everyone's favorite redhead, Willow. This story (and the two mentioned above) are archived at http://www.enteract.com/~perridox/SunS/. Thanks to my beta readers, Lizbet, Chris, Dianne, Catherine, Tina, and the SunS. Dedicated to Chris, who finally has her revenge for my endless nagging about 'Prophecy Girl'; to Tina, who had absolutely *no* objections to endlessly re-watching 'Angel' to catch the dialogue we didn't already have memorized; and to Leslie, just because she appreciated it. If you recognize the dialogue, Mutant Enemy owns it, like they own all of the characters I'm using without permission. Anything you don't recognize is mine. The Stranger by Perri Smith Copyright 1997 "In lone and silent hours, When night makes a weird sound of its own stillness... Have I mixed awful talk and asking looks With my most innocent love, until strange tears Uniting with those breathless kiss, made Such magic as compels the charmed night To render up thy charge ..." -- Percy Byshe Shelley ***** For Chris, who finally has her revenge for my endless nagging about 'Prophecy Girl'; for Tina, who had absolutely *no* objections to endlessly re-watching 'Angel' to catch the dialogue we didn't already have memorized; and for Leslie, just because she appreciated it. If you recognize the dialogue, Mutant Enemy owns it, like they own all of the characters I'm using without permission. Anything you don't recognize is mine. The Stranger by Perri Smith Copyright 1997 "In lone and silent hours, When night makes a weird sound of its own stillness... Have I mixed awful talk and asking looks With my most innocent love, until strange tears Uniting with those breathless kiss, made Such magic as compels the charmed night To render up thy charge ..." -- Percy Byshe Shelley Willow Rosenberg had been fifteen years old the first night she stepped inside the Bronze. It had been the first night of freshman year of high school, and she and Xander and Jesse had had to spend most of the day collectively working up their courage before they could hand over their money and walk past the bouncer at the door of the teen club. It had been one of the great 'coming of age' moments of her life, for all that she'd spent most of her nights there holding down a seat at the bar, watching Jesse try to hit on Cordelia, and Xander try to hit on anything female and reasonably cute. Except Willow, of course. That had all changed when Buffy Summers moved to town. From that first night, when Buffy had ignored Willow's 'loser' status and stayed to talk -- and later saved Willow's life when she took Buffy's advice a bit too close to heart -- the Bronze had actually become a fun place to be. Willow didn't have to sit alone anymore; Buffy was there, ready to join her in commenting on the cute guys, teasing Xander, and discussing life, slaying, and everything. And if vampires occasionally wandered through now, looking for a midnight snack -- well, that was what being a Slayerette was all about. It wasn't such a bad deal. Of course, not every night was fun and games. Like tonight. Xander was off trying to pick up someone else's girlfriend, and Buffy might as well have been a million miles away, even if she was sitting just across the table, playing with her drink. She'd stirred herself earlier to use her Slaying talents against the cockroaches, and racked up enough free drinks to last the trio all night, setting a new Bronze record in the process. But at the moment, even the air of revelry around them wasn't enough to drag her back to the here and now. Willow gave it one more shot. "Ah, the Fumigation Party," she said as cheerfully as possible, pitching her voice to carry over the music. Buffy didn't seem to hear her; Willow continued determinedly. "It's an annual tradition - the closing of the Bronze for a few days to nuke the cockroaches." The only response was a distracted, "Oh." Willow shook her head, caught between amusement and a bit of worry. "It's a lot of fun," she told Buffy pointedly. "What's it like where you are?" The teasing apparently penetrated at last; Buffy blinked and focused on Willow's face for the first time. Willow smiled tolerantly at her bud, who had the grace to laugh at herself. "I'm... sorry. I was just... thinking about things." Among teenage girls, that particular inflection had only one meaning. "So, we're talking about a guy?" Willow asked knowingly. Buffy made a face. "Not exactly a guy. For us to have a conversation about a guy, there'd have to be a guy for us to have a conversation about." She paused, looking confused. "Was that a sentence?" Willow got the idea; it wasn't like they hadn't had this conversation a million times before. "You lack a guy." Buffy sighed and looked down at her half-melted Coke. "I do. Which is fine with me, most of the time. But..." Her voice trailed off and Willow nodded sympathetically. "What about Angel?" she asked carefully. This was tricky territory with Buffy, who generally either claimed to *really* hate her mystery man, or lapsed into detailed and poetic descriptions of his eyes. Which were pretty worthy of poetic description, Willow admitted, at least from the one time she'd seen Angel up close. "Angel?" No, not one of the poetic nights; if anything, Buffy looked more depressed. "I can just see him in a relationship. 'Hi honey, you're in grave danger. I'll see you next month.'" "He's not around much. That's true." "But when he is around..." Buffy's eyes got dreamy, and Willow tried to hide her grin. It was going to be a poetic night after all. "...it's like the lights dim everywhere else. You know how it's like that with some guys?" "Oh yeah," Willow sighed, letting her eyes trail back to the dance floor. She knew where Xander was, as if he was wearing a homing beacon only she could sense. It had been like that for a couple of years now, ever since the day when she'd looked up and discovered that her life-long friend was also cute, funny, and all-together perfect for her. She lived in hope that someday he'd realize the same thing -- but she wasn't counting on it. At the moment, the only thing Xander seemed to be aware of was Annie Vega, and shortly thereafter, Annie's boyfriend, Dino. Willow shook her head in disgust as Xander backed off so fast he almost ran over Cordelia, but couldn't stop smiling at him, even as a little, wistful jab of pain poked at her heart. He was even cute when he was being an idiot over another girl. Xander escaped from Cordelia with what must have been a pretty good parting shot for once, judging by the evil glare she sent at his back. "Boy, that Cordelia's a regular breath of vile air," he commented as he retreated to the safety of Willow and Buffy's table. "What are you vixens up to?" Willow shrugged. "Just sitting here watching our barren lives pass us by. Oh, look. A cockroach." She closed one eye to aim better, and stomped. Cockroach floor pizza. Who said Slayerettes never got to do any of the dirty work? Xander was less than impressed by her feat. "Whoa, let's stop this crazy whirligig of fun. I'm dizzy." Buffy almost laughed, changed it into a sigh, and got up. "All right, now I'm infecting those nearest and dear to me. I'm going to call it a night." "Oh, don't go," Willow protested. "Yeah!" Xander echoed her with way too much enthusiasm for Willow's taste. "It's early. We could, um..." he groped for something, anything, to say *other* than what he really wanted to say, which would involve close bodily contact if Willow was any judge. "...dance," he finally finished lamely. To Willow's somewhat guilty relief, Buffy wasn't pursuaded. "Raincheck? Good night." She left and Xander slumped at the table, staring after her with puppy dog eyes. Willow was torn between hitting him for being so dense and hugging him because he looked so adorable when he was being pathetic. She settled for offering him the squished contents of the bottom of her shoe. "Want a free drink?" He looked pained and shoved it away, slumping even lower with his chin on his fist. Willow rolled her eyes and gave up. It was going to be one of those nights. ***** Sure enough, Xander spent the rest of the evening sulking, and since no cute guys ever hung around looking for Willow, she escaped after another hour, retreating to the safety of her computer and her on-line friends. Even that wasn't much solace, though; she kept winding up staring at the picture of her and Xander on her desk next to the computer, and slipping into improbable, but highly entertaining, fantasies, involving kissing, and hugging, and declarations of unending love, and kissing.... After the third or fourth one of those, she flipped off her monitor in disgust, and flopped onto her back on the bed for a good, long bout of self-pity. She didn't indulge very often, but this seemed like as good a night as any. "It's not fair," she informed her battered old teddy bear. "I mean, I know it's not Buffy's fault; she can't help being gorgeous, and strong, and exciting, and generally Xander's dream come true. I'm just boring old Willow, no excitement or mystery about me." She tucked her teddy bear up under her chin, and rolled onto her side to gaze at the picture of her and Xander again. Jesse had taken it in ninth grade, on the annual zoo trip. She didn't remember why she and Xander had gotten into the wrestling match, she just remembered that it had been more or less a draw. "I'm glad I'm not the Slayer and all; I *really* don't want Buffy's job. I just wish *my* job was a little more exciting than Research Girl." She sighed. "Maybe then Xander would remember I'm alive." She sighed again, then kissed her bear on the head and forced herself to get up and get ready for bed. Thankfully, she didn't dream of Xander *or* vampires that night, just a good, old-fashioned 'trapped on stage and didn't learn the words to the song' nightmare. No problem. Perri I *am* the Buffy Evangalist! NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ "I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: perridox@enteract.com (Perri Smith) Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (2/8) Date: 11 Oct 1997 22:55:49 -0500 (CDT) See disclaimer in part 1. The Stranger (Part 2) by Perri Smith Copyright 1997 ***** Willow had been intending to track Buffy down the instant she got to school, to see if her friend's mood had improved any. Before she got the chance, she found the normally *emphatically* anti-morning Slayer bouncing next to her locker, her face glowing and her eyes bright. "I got attacked by some really heavy-duty vampires last night," she announced gleefully. Willow's eyebrows went up; this was generally considered a Bad Thing. "And you won?" she guessed, opening her locker and starting to trade out books from her backpack. Biology, English, demonology, history.... "I'm assuming you won or we probably wouldn't be having this conversation. Well, unless Giles knows how to run a seance or something. Which he probably does, 'cause he's Giles." Willow realized she was babbling and stopped, but it didn't matter, since Buffy wasn't listening anyway. "There were three of them," she was saying enthusiastically, "really big and tough, too. They backed me up against a fence and I was sure I was totally toast!" This still didn't sound like cause for celebration. In fact, Willow was getting sick to her stomach at just the description. She stared at her friend, backpack dangling, forgotten, from one hand. "Buffy! You could have been killed! Why is this good?" "Because," Buffy looked deeply smug, "I was rescued." Someone rescuing the Slayer instead of vice versa. Concept. "By?" Willow asked cautiously. Then realization dawned. Cat with a canary smile, glowing eyes, color in the cheeks, bounce in the step.... "Angel?" If possible, Buffy's face got even brighter. "Yes!" "Oh, wow!" Willow closed her locker and leaned against it, wide-eyed and ready to hear all of the gory details. Which Buffy was more than happy to supply. "He came from out of nowhere. I thought it was all over and then, boom, there he was! He grabbed one of them by the hair and just pulled him away from me! I shook loose of the other two, and he kept the third one off me. Until he got slashed in the ribs," she remembered, her face darkening a bit. "That wasn't quite as cool." "Angel got hurt? Is he okay?" "Oh, he's fine." Better than fine, if Buffy's sappy, lovesick smile was anything to go by. "We made it to my house and I bandaged him up, then I was afraid to let him leave so he spent the night in my room." Buffy said the last part incredibly casually; Willow's jaw dropped another inch. "In your *room*? For real?" "For *totally* real!" Buffy dropped the nonchalant facade again in her enthusiasm. "Oh, Willow, he was so sweet! We talked a little bit, and he told me I was pretty, and then he went to sleep -- he's so *cute* when he's asleep!" Willow laughed at her friend, ignoring a faint stab of envy. Buffy looked so in love, and Angel seemed like such a cool guy. He'd helped with the vampires, and saved Buffy's life, and everything, and the fact that he looked like something out of a romance novel didn't hurt. "It sounds like you had a pretty terrific night." "Yeah." Buffy sighed, wrapping her arms around her books and leaning back against the lockers, staring happily at nothing in particular. She was totally gone. "Have you told Giles about the vampires who attacked you?" Willow asked, trying to keep *some* perspective, although what she really wanted to do was drag Buffy off to a corner for a blow-by-blow description of every second spent alone with Tall, Dark and Mysterious Guy. "I think he'll probably want to know." Buffy dragged herself back from the land of daydreams. "I woke up in the middle of the night and remembered to call him. Got him up around midnight; he was kind of, um, incoherent. But he said he'd work on it." "Did you tell him about, um...?" Buffy made a face. "Not yet, but I guess I'll have to. Angel makes him kinda nervous; Giles *hates* it when anyone has more information than he does about *anything*, especially vampires. " "And...?" Willow prompted; Buffy had the look that meant she was leaving something out. "And I'd kind of rather not tell him how close a call it was," Buffy admitted. "He tends to wig, and I don't want to stay after school for another practice session. Angel's staying at my house today so he can recover, and I don't want to, you know, leave him alone for too long. When he's wounded and all." "Better safe than sorry," Willow agreed, with a conspiratorial smile. Buffy smiled back, the two of them understanding each other perfectly. "Sorry about what?" The male voice popping into a such a girl moment surprised both of them, and almost got Xander flattened. "Hey, don't beat up on me," he defended himself, as Buffy lowered the fist she'd raised instinctively. "I didn't do it, whatever it is." Fortunately, both girls were now in too good of a mood to really let him have it. "Good morning, Xander," Buffy greeted him cheerfully, as if she hadn't just almost decked him. "And of course you didn't do anything, silly, except for sneaking up on us." "Oh. Well, good." Xander looked a little baffled, but recovered quickly, opening his locker and searching its terrifying depths -- for a textbook, Willow hoped, or he was going to flunk another math test fifth period. "So, what are we talking about?" "Coming to the library as soon as possible; at least, you should be." Another male almost bit the dust, and Willow fought back a giggle at the look Buffy's face as she realized it was Giles this time, and once again lowered her arm. The near miss last night must have Buffy's nerves more on edge than she thought, Angel or not. "You've got to stop doing that!" the Slayer told her Watcher with exasperation. "Sorry." He didn't look it, but then, Giles never did. He *did* look like he had been mainlining tea; there was a cup in his hand and it wasn't clean."I may have found some information; can you escape homeroom?" "If you write us passes, no problem," Buffy shrugged. "Lead the way." They trailed along behind Giles to the library, which was empty, as usual. The students at Sunnydale High avoided the place religiously -- or maybe they were just avoiding Giles, who had a tendency to eye anyone invading his domain with more than a little hostility. Except the Slayerettes, of course... well, most of the time. "So, what've you found out?" Buffy asked, boucing by the shelves, too wired to sit still. Willow elected to sit on the table, the better to hear the good parts. Xander roamed. "I believe I've discovered who your assailants were," Giles said over his shoulder, as he retreated into the stacks. "By the way, you neglected to tell me how you escaped their clutches." Willow and Buffy exchanged looks. Busted. "Well, I kind of had help," Buffy said reluctantly. "Angel showed up and sort of... gave me a hand." "Angel?" Xander straightened up so suddenly Willow was afraid he'd hurt himself. "Weird Guy was around?" "Yes, *Angel* was around." Buffy sounded a little miffed at the insult, never mind that she habitually referred to Angel as worse. "He was really great, Giles; he took on those vampire thugs without even flinching, even when he got hurt. I took him home to take care of him last night and he was all bloody and... um...." Willow had been frantically signalling her during the last part of the gushing, but Buffy didn't realize she'd said too much until it was too late. She shut up anyway, looking guilty. Fortunately, Giles had no more response than a raised eyebrow. Xander, on the other hand, looked close to having a conniption. "He spent the night in your room? In your bed?" "Not *in* my bed, *by* my bed," Buffy clarified impatiently. "That is so romantic," Willow sighed. Unable to resist, she asked what she *really* wanted to know. "Did you, uh.... I mean, did he...?" Buffy looked *incredibly* smug. "Perfect gentleman." Wow. Maybe Angel really *was* the perfect guy. Willow hoped so, for Buffy's sake. Willow's less-than-perfect-but-still-adorable guy looked even more unhappy than before. "Buffy! Come on, wake up and smell the seduction! It's the oldest trick in the book!" "What? Saving my life? Getting slashed in the ribs?" Buffy was starting to sound less than amused. Out of love or stupidity, Xander persisted. "Duh! I mean, guys'll do anything to impress a girl. I once drank an entire gallon of Gatorade without taking a breath." He looked proud of himself, and Willow admitted, "It was pretty impressive." And it had been, for about five minutes. "Although later, there was an ick factor." Which was putting it mildly. That party had ended on a *really* disgusting note, and Elizabeth Shay hadn't been all that impressed to begin with. "Can we steer this riveting conversation back to the events of last night?" Giles interrupted dryly, returning from the stacks with one of his ancient books in hand. Buffy sat down and Willow slid around on the table to face him as everyone shut up and paid attention, more or less. "You left the Bronze last night and were set upon by three unusually virile vampires. Did they look like this?" "Yeah." Buffy frowned down at the page Giles handed her and Willow craned her neck to see. Even Xander stopped sulking long enough to peer over Buffy's shoulder. "What's with the uniforms?" Willow studied the book upside down. The vampires pictured there seemed to be wearing Klingon uniforms. They would have looked silly if it wasn't for the menace glowing from their eyes, even in the pen and ink drawing. Definitely the bad guys. "It seems you encountered The Three," Giles told Buffy. "Warrior vampires, very proud and very strong." "How is it you always know this stuff?" Willow demanded. It got really frustrating sometimes, always having to have everything explained when she was used to being the one handing out the information. "You always know what's going on. I never know what's going on." Giles looked at her with a slight edge of irritation. "Well, you weren't here from midnight until six researching it," he pointed out, taking another long sip from his tea. Willow shrank back a little. "No. I was sleeping." He nodded as if that settled it -- which it did -- and returned to business. "Obviously, you're hurting the Master very much," he told Buffy, taking off his glasses and polishing them with his handkerchief in one of his habitual gestures. He looked younger without them, and much more tired. "He wouldn't send The Three for just anyone. We must step up our training with weapons." Buffy nodded, looking resigned, and Willow made a sympathetic face. Giles was getting predictable. So was Xander, actually. "Buffy, you should stay at my house until these samurai guys are history." Buffy turned on him with a 'what the heck are you bibbling about?' expression and Xander hurriedly added, "Don't worry about Angel, we'll look around your house and tell him to get out of town fast." I just bet you will, Willow thought, rolling her eyes at Buffy, who rolled hers in return. Boys. Xander was so jealous of Angel he couldn't stand it; he'd *love* an excuse to get rid of Buffy's mystery man for a while. Giles had apparently missed the whole thing. "Angel and Buffy are not in any immediate jeopardy," he said thoughtfully, replacing his glasses. "Eventually, the Master will send someone else. But in the meantime The Three, having failed, will offer their own lives in penance." "And on that cheerful note," Buffy said hastily, standing up and retrieving her bag, "it's about time for first period. Giles, can you give the cut slips for homeroom to Willow? I have to, um, be... somewhere." She headed for door at top speed, but wasn't quite fast enough. "As long as one of the places you have to be is here after school for training," Giles called after her. She slowed to a walk, her shoulders slumping, and turned around to argue. Giles wasn't having any of it. "I mean it, Buffy," he said sternly, before she could say a word. "Right after class." "But..." "Buffy, this is your life we're talking about." Giles had the look on his face that none of them bothered trying to argue with anymore, the serious 'It's for your own good and that's the end of it' look. They ignored that look sometimes, but they didn't argue with it. "If you won't train to protect yourself, then think of protecting those around you. Such as Angel, perhaps?" Ouch. Willow winced on Buffy's behalf; talk about hitting someone where they lived. Buffy looked simultaneously wounded and rebellious, then gave it up. "All right, Giles, I'll come right after sixth period. Promise. But I need to be home in time for dinner." "You will be," Giles assured her, before he was distracted by his book again. Buffy left, looking unhappy; Xander trailed behind her and Willow waited for Giles to look back up. "Um, Giles?" she said after a very long moment; he started as if just being reminded of her presence. All too used to being forgotten, she patiently asked, "Excuse slips? For homeroom? So Buffy doesn't wind up in detention instead of practice?" Giles wasn't the only one who knew how to make a point. "Ah. Yes." He blinked rapidly and put the book back down, careful not to lose his place. He had to search through his desk to find the excuse slips -- why, Willow didn't know, since he had to use them practically every day to get either Buffy or Willow out of class -- and finally retrieved a stack of the forms from beneath two grimoires, a box of tea and a silver-hilted knife. He scribbled his illegible signature at the bottom of three of them; Willow accepted them, then retreated to let him get back to his research as first-period bell rang. As she left the library, he was already heading back to his office, reading as he walked and muttering something to himself under his breath. She hoped he didn't run into a wall or anything. Perri I *am* the Buffy Evangalist! NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ "I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: perridox@enteract.com (Perri Smith) Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (4/8) Date: 12 Oct 1997 19:17:49 -0500 (CDT) See disclaimer in part 1. The Stranger (Part 4) by Perri Smith Copyright 1997 ***** The morning was more or less a total waste, but Willow hadn't expected anything else. She paid enough attention during history and biology to cover for Buffy, who was still in a daze; Willow had to drag her off to the girls room between classes to talk. Buffy was bouncing between total, shocked disbelief, and equally shocked attempts at rationalization, babbling everything about the previous evening more or less incoherently . Willow listened silently, letting her friend vent enough to get her through the next class. She had to leave her in Xander's hands for third period, though; Buffy had her free period then, but Willow suspected she'd spend it anywhere but the library. Xander, of course, had no problems with cutting class to keep an eye on Buffy. Computer science, usually Willow's favorite part of the day, seemed to drag on forever. Ms. Calendar caught her staring off into space at least twice during the period, and stopped to ask if anything was wrong. Her teacher looked so concerned, Willow almost found herself spilling it all, but caught herself at the last second. "No," she lied, "nothing's wrong." Ms. Calendar looked completely unconvinced, but didn't push. "All right," she said calmly, "but if you need to talk to anyone about whatever's not wrong, you know where I am." Willow attempted a smile. "I know. Thanks." Ms Calendar studied her with knowing, sympathetic eyes for another long moment, then went off to look over Dave's shoulder at his current project. Willow tried to bury herself in programming, but found herself staring off into space again within a few minutes. It just seemed so unbelievable. She remembered the first time she'd seen Angel, that night at the Bronze when he'd come to warn Buffy about Fork Guy, as they still called the nameless clawed vampire Buffy had killed. He'd been hovering in the doorway, dressed in stark black and white and looking nothing like the super-annoying smart aleck Buffy had described in vivid (and irritated) detail. He'd looked serious, and intense... and alone, even in the crowd of people. Maybe that was why Willow had instinctively liked Angel -- even from across the crowded dance floor, she'd seen her own loneliness reflected in his dark, shadowed eyes. Then he'd given Buffy his jacket, settling it carefully around her shoulders to make sure she hadn't gotten cold, and won Willow's romantic heart over forever. And then there'd been the look he'd worn when Buffy had kissed Owen in front of him at the Bronze a few weeks later..... Why would a vampire give the Slayer his jacket, much less the cross he'd given her at their first meeting, the one Buffy almost never took off? Why would he care when she kissed another guy? Why would he warn her, why would he protect her from his own kind? It made no sense, none at all. She'd *liked* Angel, and Buffy was in love with him. They couldn't both be that wrong about him; it just wasn't possible. "Willow?" Willow jolted, then looked up guiltily at Ms. Calendar, who was looking down at her with worried eyes. "The bell just rang. You might want to try to get to fourth period sometime before lunch." "Oh. The bell. Right." Willow saved her program, retrieved her disk, then bolted for the door before her favorite teacher could ask any more questions Willow couldn't answer. ***** She made it to the library before Xander and Buffy did at lunch, and found Giles pouring over a stack of books, as usual. He didn't even look up when she came in, just gestured towards a smaller stack at the edge of the table -- the books written in modern English that the Slayerettes could be trusted to read without missing anything or hurting the book. Giles' faith in them had its limits. Willow obeyed his silent order, pulling up a chair and taking the first book off the top of the stack. Someone's handwritten manuscript, yellowing paper bound into faded, patterned leather. She skimmed a few pages, without much interest. "Have you found anything yet?" "Not yet." "Oh." Another few pages. "Nothing about Angel, in any of these books?" "Not that I've discovered." "Oh." A few more pages. "Giles?" He sighed, and put his book down to look at her. "Yes, Willow?" Now that she had his attention, she wasn't quite sure what to do with it. Finally, she asked the question she'd been asking herself all day. "Giles, does Angel have to be a bad guy? I mean, are you sure he is?" Giles sighed again, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. They were bloodshot from too much research and too little sleep. "I... wish he weren't, Willow -- for Buffy's sake, at least. I know she is fond of Angel and she.... Well, he has, perhaps, given her reason to be. As he has given you, I gather?" Willow blushed under his entirely-too-perceptive gaze, looking back down at her book. "But he *is* a vampire, and Buffy's emotions, like yours, may be clouding her judgment. A Slayerer cannot afford that luxury, nor can a Watcher. We must assume Angel is like the rest of his kind." "So all vampires are alike?" Willow persisted. "They're all the same?" "No, of course not," Giles said with more than a little exasperation. "They are individuals, but individual demons. And they are all evil." "How can you be sure?" Willow asked in a tiny voice, without looking up from her book. "How can you *know*?" It took Giles a long time to answer. "Because I *must* know," he said finally, turning his glasses over in his hands as if seeing them for the first time. "Because to assume otherwise, against all evidence to the contrary, would be risking the Slayer on nothing more than wishful thinking. And because I would far rather it was Buffy's heart that was broken than Buffy herself." Willow couldn't really think of anything to say to that. He was right, after all. Fortunately, Buffy and Xander chose that moment to come into the library, Xander talking a blue streak about nothing in particular in a transparent attempt to distract Buffy, who, judging by the far-off look on her face, wasn't distracting. "Any luck?" she came out of it enough to ask Giles. "None to speak of," he answered quickly, putting his glasses back on as if to hide any emotions he might be feeling. "Although I may have thought of a new approach. If you will begin looking through the pile by Willow...." He handed Xander a heavy volume before Xander could figure a way to wriggle out of having to actually read, and Buffy began leafing through another book by herself as Giles headed for the stacks. Not that it was going to do much good; she was looking at the pages, but not really focusing. Willow tried to think of words to comfort her friend, but what could she say? 'Gee, I'm sorry your boyfriend turned out to be a vampire?' She pulled a Giles and buried herself in her research, instead. ***** "Here's something at last," Giles announced barely half an hour later. Willow restrained a giggle as Xander jumped in surprise; at least the guys were scaring each other now, instead of her and Buffy. "Can you please warn us before you do that?" Xander asked the Watcher edgily. Giles ignored him. "There's nothing about Angel in the texts, but it suddenly occured to me that it's been ages since I read the diaries of any of the Watchers before me." "That must have been so embarrassing," Willow thought out loud, still dwelling on the romance of it all. "When you thought he had read your diary, but then it turned out he hadn't, but then he felt the same way..." Her voice trailed off as she realized what she was saying and looked up guiltily. Giles looked impatient, Xander looked... unhappy. "I'm listening," she finished in a very small voice. Giles went back to his book. "There's a mention some 200 years ago in Ireland of Angelus, 'one with the angelic face'." "They got that right," Buffy muttered. Xander coughed, and everyone looked at him. "I'm not saying anyt ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: perridox@enteract.com (Perri Smith) Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (3/8) Date: 12 Oct 1997 19:17:25 -0500 (CDT) See disclaimer in part 1. The Stranger (Part 3) by Perri Smith Copyright 1997 ***** Giles didn't allow the Slayerettes to attend Buffy's training sessions. He claimed that the fewer of them that were around school after hours, the less conspicuous they would be. Willow suspected that Giles just didn't want them to see how easily Buffy could beat him up. So Willow actually made it home in time for her own dinner, and realized how long it had been since that happened when her parents both greeted her appearance at the dinner table with looks of shock. "Excuse me, miss, you look a lot like my daughter," Mr. Rosenberg teased. "Except that it's been so long since I saw her, I'm not sure what she looks like any more." "Very funny, dad," Willow grinned sheepishly as she shoveled spaghetti onto her plate. "I was here just last week." "That recently?" her mom said with mock surprise. "And here you are again, without Xander. I was beginning to think you two were joined at the hip." Oh, I wish, Willow thought gloomily, keeping her smile on with an effort. "I think his mom was ordering pizza tonight; he didn't want to miss it." Her mom took salad and passed it on. "You know, honey," she said thoughtfully, "Xander really has turned into a very good-looking young man, and such a nice boy, too. Have the two of you ever thought of, I don't know, going out? Or whatever they call it these days?" Willow choked on a bite of garlic bread. "Um, no, Mom," she answered truthfully. "We've never thought of that." *She* had, but that wasn't a we. "We're just friends." "Too bad," Mrs. Rosenberg sighed. "I think the two of you would be a cute couple." Willow blushed furiously and concentrated on wrapping spaghetti around her fork in perfectly straight and even layers. Her mom took the hint and let the subject drop. She'd been half-expecting a call from Buffy to emote over Angel, but after the dishes had been done, her homework finished and all of her e-mail answered, there was still no word from the Slayer. *Oh well,* she sighed mentally. *I'm sure she'll tell me all about it tomorrow.* *One of these days, I really need to have something to tell her.* ***** Willow waited eagerly next to the curb until Buffy's mom dropped her off the next morning. "So, what happened?" she started to ask, before taking in the drained, exhausted look on Buffy's face. It was such a contrast to the energetic, happy Slayer of the day before that Willow stopped dead in her tracks, suddenly scared. "Buffy? What's wrong? What happened? Did The Three show up again?" "The Three?" Buffy smiled strangely, then started to chuckle, an odd, scary laugh with absolutely no humor. "No, they didn't show up. There was... another vampire problem, you could say." "I could?" Willow was totally lost now. "Buffy, you look like you saw a ghost. Did Angel do something? Did another vampire come after you? Tell me what happened!" Buffy's face twisted and for a second, Willow thought she was going to lose it right then and there. Fortunately, Giles showed up before the Slayer could start screaming and/or crying -- Willow wasn't quite sure which one it would have been. "Buffy, are you all right?" he asked, hurrying down the sidewalk towards them. He looked even more nervous than usual, at least until he gave Buffy a quick once-over and determined that, yes, she was all right, physically at least. Willow still didn't know about the mental part. "Why wouldn't Buffy be all right?" Xander asked from behind Willow, who was too focused on Buffy to even jump. There was something very wrong here, she was sure of it. "I'm fine," Buffy told them unconvincingly. " I'm fine, I just... had a really bad night." "I imagine so," Giles said, not without sympathy. "Discovering Angel's true nature must have been rather a bad shock, especially under... well, under the circumstances. You're sure he didn't hurt you? A vampire in your house, in your room...." "He didn't hurt me!" Buffy sounded like she was saying it for about the tenth time. "Honest, Giles, he just... fanged out, then bailed when I started screaming, like I told you." Willow was still stalled back at Giles' half of the conversation, seeing her own dawning shock reflected on Xander's face. They must have heard that wrong. Giles and Buffy couldn't possibly be talking about what she thought they were talking about. "Angel... is a vampire?" "Apparently so," Giles answered her absently. "Buffy, did he say anything, do anything...?" "No!" Buffy started walking towards the front doors; wandering, actually, as if in a daze. The Slayerettes trailed along beside and behind her. "I told you, Giles, he just.... Oh, God, this isn't happening. " "Angel's a vampire?" Willow couldn't quite get past that part. Vampires were Bad Things -- mean and vicious and scary. Angel was cool; he helped *fight* vampires, and gave Buffy his jacket, and made Buffy's face light up with happiness. He *couldn't* be a vampire, there was no way. But Buffy's heart-broken face left no doubt. "I can't believe this is happening," she repeated, going up the front steps towards the school. "One minute, we were kissing, and the next minute.... Can a vampire ever be a good person?" she suddenly demanded, whirling on Giles. "Couldn't it happen?" Giles looked taken aback. "A vampire isn't a person at all," he stuttered slightly. "It may have the movements, the memories, even the personality of the person it possessed, but it's still a demon at the core. There is no halfway." Willow mentally deciphered his sentance. "So, that'd be a no, huh?" she concluded unhappily. "Well, then, what was he doing? Why was he good to me?" Buffy asked no one in particular, sinking to one of the stone benches outside the school as if she didn't trust her knees to hold her up any more. "Was it all some part of the Master's plan? It doesn't make sense." She was looking to Giles for answers, like always, but it was Xander who carefully lowered himself to the bench next to her. "All right," he said, very deliberately, "you have a problem and it's not a small one. Let's take a breath, and look at this calmly and objectively. Angel's a vampire. You're the Slayer. I think it's obvious what you have to do." At that moment, Willow wanted, more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life, to hit Xander. He'd recovered from the shock, all right, and jumped right in with both feet in his mouth to try to get rid of his 'rival'. But he didn't know Buffy's feelings, Willow instantly corrected herself, with a surge of guilt. He couldn't know. And Xander *really* hated vampires, ever since Jesse.... So he couldn't know what he was saying, he was just being... practical. Logical. Right. Xander looked up at Giles for confirmation; both of the girls looked up to him begging for a denial. Giles couldn't quite look Buffy in the eyes. "It is a Slayer's duty," he confirmed reluctantly. "I mean, I know you have feelings for this guy," Xander rushed on, "but it's not like you're in love with him, right?" Willow didn't have to hit him this time; Buffy's face said it all. Even Xander, who'd been trying really, really hard to pretend Buffy's fascination with Angel was a passing, unsignificant thing, couldn't miss the deep, tragic emotions written in her eyes. "You're in love with a vampire?" he demanded loudly. "What, are you out of your mind?" Just a little bit too loudly, as it turned out. "What?" They swung, more or less in unison, to see Cordelia staring down at them with wide, traumatically shocked eyes. Xander gaped, then tried desperately to cover. "Not vampire," he fumbled, looking back at Buffy. "How could you love an umpire? Everyone hates them!" Willow winced, sure the game was up; even Cordelia wasn't going to believe anything that lame. Fortunately, Cordelia was now staring past them, with other things on her mind. "Where did you get that dress?" she demanded of a girl walking across the lawn, wearing the ehing," he said defensively. "I have nothing to say." Giles shook his head and got back to business. "Does, ah, Angel have a tattoo behind his right shoulder?" Buffy frowned thoughtfully. "Yeah, it's a bird or something." "*Now* I'm saying something," Xander blurted. "You saw him naked?" Everyone ignored him this time. Willow could have told him how Buffy had bandaged Angel's ribs after he'd been injured (since she'd been told the story in repeated, moment-by-moment playback), but it was more fun to let him stew. "So Angel's been around for a while," she said instead. Giles considered. "Not long for a vampire; 240 years or so." "240." Buffy shook her head ruefully. "Well, he said he was older." "Angelus leaves Ireland," Giles continued as he sat down, having apparently decided to ignore all side comments, "and wreaks havok in Europe for, well, several decades. Then, about eighty years ago, a most curious thing happens." Giles paged ahead in the diary, searching for something. When he found it, he continued, "He comes to America, shuns other vampires, and lives alone. There's... no record of him hunting here." And Giles sounded really puzzled by that. "So, he *is* a good vampire," Willow blurted, unable to stop herself. Buffy looked so unhappy, any hope was a Good Thing. "I mean, on a scale of one to ten, with ten being someone one's maiming and killing, and one being someone who's, um--" Words failed her. "--not." "As I said, there's no record," Giles confirmed dubiously. "But vampires hunt and kill; it's what they do." "Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly," Xander said. "He could have fed on me," Buffy pointed out. "He didn't." "Question," Xander said grimly. Willow would have been proud of his concentration and clear thinking if she hadn't been so very suspicious of his motives. "A hundred years or so before he came to our shores -- what was he like then?" Giles took his glasses back off, as if to make it easier to look Buffy in the eyes. "Well, like all of them. A vicious, violent animal." Buffy swallowed, her eyes wide and haunted. Willow bit her lip, fighting back her own sinking heart. Those words didn't seem to apply to Angel, didn't fit with what she'd seen in his dark, lonely eyes. Vicious? Animal? It just felt so *wrong*. Perri I *am* the Buffy Evangalist! NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ "I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander xact same tank dress Cordelia had on. "This is a one-of-a-kind Todd Oldham. Do you know how much this dress cost?" She left the Slayerettes without a backwards glance to catch up to and attack the girl who dared to have the same taste in clothing as the diva of Sunnydale High. As Cordelia's harangue trailed off into the distance, Buffy tried to smile. "Think we have problems," she said wryly. "Well, in point of fact, we do," Giles reminded her carefully. "We'll need to find out whatever we can about Angel. Just in case." "He wouldn't hurt her, would he?" Willow protested instinctively. "I mean, he hasn't before, like Buffy said, right?" "We can't take the chance," Giles said. "Whatever he is and whatever his motives, Angel knows far too much about Buffy; we must attempt to even that score." Homeroom bell rang even as he spoke; he looked at his watch and sighed. "I'll need all of you in the library at lunch; I'll do what I can until then. You had better get to class." They got up reluctantly, no one particularly enthusiastic about sitting through classes when they were having a (much more interesting) crisis. Giles headed for the library, and Xander and Willow flanked Buffy as they walked to homeroom, lending her as much moral support as they could. Perri I *am* the Buffy Evangalist! NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ "I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: sah Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN: List rules Date: 13 Oct 1997 09:49:47 -0400 Welcome! This list is for fiction related to "Buffy The Vampire Slayer," both the TV series and the movie. 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Jill Kirby (jtkirby@mcs.com) & Sharon Himmanen (romana@mindspring.com) Listowners, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fiction List buffyfic@xmission.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: VQRW76A@prodigy.com (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (1/6) Date: 13 Oct 1997 19:17:02, -0500 Author's Notes: Due to popular demand (and a mental breakdown on my part) here's the Ms. Calendar version of "Prophecy Girl", with extra dialogue and scenes we didn't see onscreen--including what happened at Spring Fling. As per usual, I'm not making money off this, the characters and Sunnydale belong to Joss Whedon the Insane, 20th Century Fox, Mutant Enemy, Sandstar, Warner Bros., and this is intended in the purest spirit of admiration to the show. TYK's to Cath for making me think about another story until this one untangled itself, Perri & Dianne & Lizbet for beta'ing, and Perri for the opening idea. I can never write 'til I can find the first line.... and one last thank-you-kindly to the Sunnydale Slayers, who saw it first. Comments desired, wanted, needed, at vqrw76a@Prodigy.com "Shadow of an Apocalypse" by Christina Kamnikar copyright 1997 The e-mail sat there and glared at me. > Subject: Prophecy's fulfillment > Date: Thurs, 14 May 1997 05:37:00 -9:00 (PST) > To: List (see attached) > From: Brother Luca > > Time is speeding. The Chosen One must be warned; the Anointed One is > already preparing Himself. All signs indicate that Aurelius's Doom > has already come to pass, and we are all in danger! > > Perhaps all we can do is ready ourselves for the inevitable.... If > anyone has news of the fulfillment of this prediction, any tidings at > all, please inform as soon as possible. > > Yours in hope, > > Brother Luca > Abbey of St. Anselmo > Cortona, Italia > frerejacque@stanselmo.cortona.IT "Cheerful." Sunlight shone into my bedroom, illuminating the books that had spilled onto the floor during the previous night's earthquake, and the stain next to my bedstand that came from keeping a cup of coffee there, ready to mainline two seconds after I wake up. I made a face at the computer screen, wishing I could laugh at the e-mail that Cameo had forwarded to me (as had five other people) before she left town. But it was only the capper on what had been a steadily growing string of not-so-subtle hints from the Beyond. Sunnydale was heading for another catastrophic spiritual car wreck, and I was stuck dealing with it alone. Again. Cami had taken off for the Mojave the night before, along with several of my other fellow local Pagans. The coming weekend was supposed to be a pretty significant astronomical convergence, and they'd wanted a good view of the proceedings from out in the desert. I'd have loved to have gone with them, but I'd gotten roped into agreeing to chaperone the high school Spring Fling because I hadn't ducked out of the Teachers' Lounge fast enough. "Ms. Calendar. I believe you have yet to act as an Student Event Supporting Participant this year," had been Principal Snyder's exact words, and while I was busy going "hunh?" he'd grinned sadistically and clarified, "Chaperone. Be sure to wear something appropriate to the upcoming dance, won't you? You don't have to provide your own escort, of course. I'm sure Coach Galway will be happy to accompany you, since he is going to act as your partner," then breezed out before I could do more than gape at him, too stunned to find a comeback that wouldn't get me fired. //The day I attend a dance with Galway the Insane is the day I sign up for the Psychic Friends Network! Or better yet, go to work for them!// So instead of camping in the clean air and quiet, I was going to have to face hordes of teenage pretensions and hormones, not to mention a possible Apocalypse. On the same night. //Then again, it's not like there's much difference between your average Prom and the end of the world as we know it....// Reams of information, weird happenings, vague warnings, and I still didn't know *what* to expect, though. It was going to happen soon, maybe even within the next few days---but what was it? What kind of Armageddon was the world facing? And what could I possibly do about it? I stuck out my tongue at Henry V, then groaned, knowing what was coming next and dreading it. //Time to bite the bullet, Nikki. You've been putting it off long enough. You don't have any more options. If you want to know what's going on...// I was going to have to corner Snobby and try to get him to share info. It would be like pulling teeth. Worse. Pulling a secured file from the I.R.S. databanks would be easier than getting the truth out of Rupert Giles, close-mouthed Brit librarian and weirdness expert. He'd try to avoid the questions, I'd try to pin him down, we'd get into an argument, insults would be hurled, and I *still* might not know any more than I had to begin with. I cursed under my breath, pulling on my work clothes and gathering together my files with a bad attitude toward the day already. The attitude didn't get any better when I realized I was putting on lipstick at the stoplight. Some women wear makeup to conceal flaws, or exploit assets; some wear it to turn themselves into strangers. But when I wear makeup---and I mean more than the bare minimum, because eyeliner and mascara and lipstick don't come naturally to me---it's warpaint. Going into a situation where I want some armor, or to at least know that I look my most fabulous even if I'm screwing up, I pull out the blush and the pencils. When I'm feeling especially edgy I start putting on lipstick before I even know what I'm doing. Early conditioning is a pain, sometimes. He shouldn't be able to do this to me. You would think---if life were simple, and logical---that after sharing an uncommonly weird experience such as exorcising a demonic entity from cyberspace, that two people would become friends. Bond, or something. It wasn't as if Rupert and I couldn't be civil, given a chance. We'd even run interference for each other a couple times since the Moloch incident, especially when Snyder had been on the warpath about some new brilliant bit of administrivia. But I still hadn't gotten a decent explanation out of Rupert about the source of his arcane knowledge. In fact, he'd avoided discussing anything slightly paranormal with me with the same determination that he avoided learning more than was absolutely required about the computers in the library. Which didn't mean we hadn't had a couple of knock-down-drag-out arguments about various interpretations of the rules of magic, paganism, and the uses of computers. Rupert Giles is no more of a pushover than I am, despite the stutter and that bone-deep politeness. Maybe that's why I respect him. And why being deliberately shut out of something that meant as much to him as it did to me hurt a little bit. The man had some direct pipeline to occult answers and he had no intention of sharing it. I *knew* that another bizarre incident had happened two weeks before---the nightmares I had for three days straight _couldn't_ have been ordinary, and more than one of my friends had the same kinds of nocturnal terrors at that time. I could feel in my gut that Rupert knew what the cause was; but when I called him on it later, he refused to discuss it. Refused, as in "leave it alone, you're better off not knowing, Calendar" a statement which made me furious at his presumption and sparked a frigid silence between us broken only by chilly exchanges of courtesy. It was time to set all that aside, though. Holding a grudge while the end of the world was approaching could only be classified as major-league suicidal idiocy, at least if I wanted to do anything to prevent it. The first chance I had, I headed for Rupert's private sanctuary, hoping to beard the librarian in his den. The library was a wreck after the earthquake, with shelves collapsed against each other, books everywhere, and major cracks climbing up the walls and threading across the floor. //Poor Snobby. His first earthquake in California, and it has to be a 5.5 with an epicenter in Sunnydale....// Rupert was on phone when I walked in, looking as wrecked as his surroundings. The usually meticulous Brit had loosened his tie, unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves, opened his shirt neck, and his hair was standing on end; he was rumpled, crumpled, spindled, folded... and tired, if I was any judge. Possibly even scared? The last quality kept me from knocking on the door and warning him that I was there, as I took a second just to study him while he held an intense conversation on the phone, oblivious to my presence. "I-I need to see you... No, I realize that... Come after sundown. Good.... I'll see you then." Giles hung up the phone with a click, then just sat there, utterly still, his face drawn with weariness while I tried to guess what could make him look that unhappy and tense. The last time it had been that bad... I pushed memories of Moloch away and spoke up, causing Rupert to jolt with alarm even though I kept my voice level and non-threatening. "You know, that outfit looks just like the one you wore yesterday. Only wrinklier. Were you here all night?" I asked, sounding more concerned than I'd meant to. "Sorry, uh... I'm not really up to socializing just now." The abruptness of his statement was backed up by the rough edge to his accent---but I couldn't give him a break because of one night's lack of sleep. "Something's going on, Rupert, and I'm guessing you already know what it is." I walked into his private office and he stood up, his body language becoming even more guarded and wary than before. "What do you know?" From his taut expression, Snobby hadn't believed for an instant that I was talking about school business, or one of the students, or life in general. //At least we're skipping the denial part of this discussion... That's encouraging.// "Well, I have been surfing the Net, looking for unexplained incidences. You know people are always sending stuff my way, they know the occult's my turf. Here is the latest." I sorted through the folders of clippings and print-outs I'd brought along, then cleared my throat and started reading articles at random. Rupert paced around the office, head down, avoiding my eyes. "A cat last week gave birth to a litter of snakes." The Brit continued to pace, not reacting with either the fear or denial that would have been any other person's response. His face showed no change from the pinched weariness I'd come in on. "A family was swimming in Whisper Lake when the lake began to boil. And Mercy Hospital last night, a boy was born with his eyes facing inward." I put the file down, and kept my voice steady and low with an effort. "I'm not stupid. This is Apocalypse stuff. Throw in last night's earthquake and I'd say the end is pretty seriously nigh." "I don't know if I can trust you." Doubt and hope seemed to be having it out in Rupert's mind, and I couldn't tell which one was going to win. So I pushed, not willing to be brushed aside like I'd been two weeks before. And not willing to leave Snobby alone in another situation like Moloch's return, no matter what. "I helped you cast that demon out of the Internet. I'd think that merits *some* trust." Giles nodded apologetically to me, his eyes reflecting tired agreement behind his glasses. "Look, I'm scared, okay? Plus, I've got this crazy monk emailing me from Cortona about some Anointed One---" "The Anointed One?" His voice rose with the first shock he'd shown since I walked in. "He's dead!" "Someone's dead?" Rupert took off his glasses, obviously impatient, wrinkling his brow as if he had a headache. "Who is this monk?" "A Brother Luca... something? Keeps sending out global mailings about a prophecy---" //Not good. This is not good. What's going on---// "I need you to talk to him, find out all he knows---" Giles was finally focusing on the here-and-now, but that wasn't any help when I had no idea why. "Look Rupert, you haven't told me jack, so what's with the orders?" "Just do it!" I'd forgotten how scary Snobby could be when he got intense; the whip-edge to his voice softened from an urgent command to apology as his eyes pleaded. "I'll... explain, later." "You'd better," I said grimly. //I'll cut you some slack for now... but I'm not letting you off the hook indefinitely.// I gathered my folders together and stalked out of the library before I could say something regrettable. //Find Brother Luca, get some answers from him, give 'em to Snobby, and I'll finally find out what's up. It better be worth it....// Of course, if it wasn't worth it, then maybe there wouldn't be an Apocalypse. Maybe the worst I'd have to deal with on Saturday night would be avoiding Coach Galway and being bored out of my mind at the Spring Fling. //Right, Nikki. You should be so lucky.// * Comments to vqrw76a@prodigy.com Christina }|{ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: VQRW76A@prodigy.com (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (2/6) Date: 13 Oct 1997 19:22:10, -0500 For disclaimers, see Part 1. Comments appreciated at vqrw76a@Prodigy.com "Shadow of an Apocalypse" (2/6) by Christina Kamnikar Copyright 1997 Four A.M. I was still wide awake. I didn't want to sleep. But the later I stayed up, the more I wished I'd gone with Cami to the Mojave. What was I trying to prove, anyway? The Net was quiet--- ominously, so, after weeks of warnings and intensifying strangeness. I hadn't been able to track down Brother Luca yet, either. What time was it in Italy; around noon? Another hour, maybe, and then I'd go to bed. That would give the good brother enough time to get done with lunch, or compline, or whatever, and answer my queries. _If_ he answered them. I stared at Henry V blankly as I automatically surfed from site to site, not really registering the places I was visiting, preoccupied with the possibilities that Rupert had staunchly refused to clear up. Why couldn't he have been more specific? Why wouldn't he just *tell* me what was going on? Okay, I knew the answer to that one, he'd come right out and said it: he didn't entirely trust me. Which was unfair. // Did he think I'd share the news of what was coming with CNN? He should know better. He should know by now that I take the supernatural as seriously as he does. He should know I wouldn't do anything reckless or stupid.// It was quiet, except for Henry's hum as he did another search on the phrase "Anointed One"; dark in my bedroom, except for the tensor lamp above the printer and the moonlight leaking through the window. I sipped my cup of cooling coffee and finally admitted my worst fear: that nothing _could_ be done, that Rupert was trying to shield me or to give me something to keep me occupied and sane while our time ran out. I didn't really believe that, though. Giles's desperation when I mentioned the prophecy to him had been too real, his focus too narrow for him to have been concocting a wild goose chase for my sake. Which still didn't mean I could help. Or that Rupert could do anthing about it either, even if I finally got the information he wanted. //Maybe there's nothing either of us - any of us - can do.// The prophecies coming over the lines for the last few days had been so doom-laden and vague--- //Face it, we could all be dead, or worse, before you have a clue why.// Horrible thought. I tried to push it away, but it kept coming back, like the nightmares from two weeks before. I believe in Powers that a lot of people laugh at or fear without reason. I know that the Divine is real, and present, because I can feel it inside of me, and sometimes see it in cyberspace, on sites set up for freedom of speech, or to aid the public, or in the way people reach out to strangers, welcoming them into a new world. But I'm not psychic or gifted with any extraordinary powers, and I don't have access to the kind of knowledge that can be used to fight avatars of the Dark on their own terms. What did I think I could accomplish, searching the Net for something I might not recognize if I found it? The digital clock on my bedstand read 5:24 AM. Nothing had arrived from Brother Luca. Sunlight was trying to filter its way through my blinds. Have you ever stayed up to see the sun rise, just to be sure that it would? It was like that.... I still didn't have any answers. But for no rational reason, the despair I'd been fighting lightened enough to let me crawl under the covers and set the alarm for six hours. Hopefully, mail from the mad monk would be waiting for me when I regained consciousness. Then I could confront Snobby with the Wicked Witch's broom he'd sent me off to find; and he'd have to tell me the truth. If there was no way to avert the end, I wanted to know about it. There were a lot of things I wanted to do before I died. But if there was a way--- it might be a losing fight, but I'd prefer to go down battling. Might as well die doing something I loved. > < > < > @ The buzzer sounded on my alarm clock, jarring me awake with a curse. My head ached. I stumbled over to the computer and checked my e-mail two seconds later. Nothing. Okay, it wasn't nothing. There was an ad from hottgirls.com, inviting me to tour their website of male and female hard bodies; two notes from friends who'd just discovered the web and wanted to tell me how much fun they were having; and various articles forwarded to me from around the globe, confirming that yes, the end was getting too close for comfort. But nothing from Brother Luca. Disappointed didn't cover it; I was starting to get panicky. //Hate waiting, hate feeling helpless, useless....// Ruthlessly, I sat on the anxiety clawing at my insides and forced myself to do normal things: eat lunch, take a shower, get dressed in "appropriate" chaperone attire for the evening's Spring Fling. Until I knew otherwise, life was going on, and I couldn't ignore it yet. Feeling human, although still far too keyed-up, I spent the afternoon e-mailing and searching, hoping for some electronic crumb of information about Brother Luca. All the indications were that he'd disappeared from the Net, and the outer world too; no one knew where he was. Not his account administrator, not his abbey, not even the Papal Legate's office. Finally, around five or so, one last global post from him dropped into my mailbox, from a public access terminal in Rome. TO: List (see attached) FROM: Brother Luca (frerejacque@cafe.dante@rome.IT) DATE: Saturday, May 17, 1997 23:59:32:00 (-9) RE: Prophecy Context > To all who hope: Isaiah 11:6. The time is now. > > God help and bless the Chosen One. Pray this is enough. > > Yours in the Light > > Brother Luca Grinning in relief, I dialed Rupert's home number, sure he would be poring over his "volumes" in search of what Brother Luca had shared with me on-line. I hastily yanked down my copy of the King James Bible while the phone rang in my ear, flipping through to look up the pertinent quote. //Hmmmmm... out of context, I'd say that sounds even odder than usual...// "Giles here," sounded abruptly in my ear as I fumbled with the receiver. Rupert seemed more stressed than the day before, and I again wondered how he was sleeping lately. "Rupert? It's me. I'm coming over there, I found something I have to show you---" "Ms. Calender, have you seen the news?" Stressed wasn't the right word, really; Snobby sounded grim, which stopped my babbling and made my stomach tighten in anticipation before I even processed his words. "Um, no, should I have?" "You might want to sit down...." "Tell me." My throat had gone dry at those words; it was too much like he'd sounded when he'd told me that Dave was dead, strangled and hanged on Moloch's orders. This was worse. "Four students were found dead in the school's A/V room this morning. I'm afraid Willow---" "_No_!" //No, not again, not Willow---// "No, no, I meant---forgive me. Willow is fine, fine." He sighed, bleakness seeping into his voice as he went on. "As fine as anyone can be, who just found the exsanguinated corpses of her classmates a few hours ago. She and Cordelia Chase were the first on the scene, and it was--- disturbing, especially for someone of Willow's sensitivity. And Cordelia evidently knew one of the boys well...." "Oh my Goddess." //Four...// "We have to *do* something! We have to stop this, somehow, there has to be---" "I quite agree." The quiet rage in his voice echoed the sick, angry plunge my stomach took when he imparted the news. He gave me a minute to recover, then continued. "The police left half an hour ago. I'm afraid there's rather a lot I must do... and, well... very little time. I may need... 'backup', I believe you Americans call it?" The desperation was back in his voice, along with the pleading. "Could you meet me? At the library? Soon?" "I'm there. See you in twenty." I hung up the phone before he could say anything else, overwhelmed. And furious. //Not without a fight...// Whatever it was, whoever was pushing for the Apocalypse, was not going to get it without a fight. * Christina vqrw76a@prodigy.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: VQRW76A@prodigy.com (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (4/6) Date: 13 Oct 1997 19:21:03, -0500 For disclaimers, see part 1. Comments hoped for! at vqrw76a@prodigy.com "Shadow of an Apocalypse" (4/6) by Christina Kamnikar copyright 1997 Giles was still out cold when the phone rang. I dithered for a second, then answered it, trying to put a smile in my voice, hoping it wasn't another crisis. //Please, let it be someone trying to renew a book...// "Sunnydale Library." "Miss Calender?" It was a teenage voice, a familiar one I couldn't put a face to, sounding surprised. I frowned. "Yes, this is Miss Calender. Who is this?" "Uhhh... this is Xander Harris." I blinked, then placed him finally---Willow and Buffy's friend, the one who had been involved during the Moloch nightmare. //How much do you know, kid?// I wondered. "I was looking for Mr. Giles? Could I talk to him?" "Not at the moment, Xander. He's sort of..." I looked down at Rupert, who was murmuring and starting to come around, and I kneeled next to him, placing an icepack on his jaw as he blinked up at me. "Not feeling well. Could I take a message?" "Not feeling well," the teen repeated, his voice getting tighter. "But he's alive, right?" //That answers *that* question.// "He's just a little indisposed. He's fine, really---" "Is Buffy there?" Xander demanded, increasing my discomfort with the situation. "Noooo," I said slowly, supporting Snobby as he struggled into a sitting position. He groaned in pain, looking around for his glasses, and I hissed at him, "Lie back down, Rupert. You're going to hurt yourself---" "Listen, I called because Willow was really worried about Buffy," Xander was saying, sounding like someone trying to remain calm when he wants to yell. "She came over to see Will after she saw the evening news, and she was acting funny. Something's going on, isn't it? Something big?" "I can't tell you that---" "What do you mean, you can't tell me? Let me talk to Giles," he demanded, and then Snobby snaked the receiver out of my grasp. "I'm perfectly fine, Xander," he said wearily, leaning back against the book returns cabinet. "Buffy? Ermm... No, no, you shouldn't come here... Xander, no, I don't want--- damn." He glared at the phone, then hung it up. "Damn the boy. I didn't want them involved," Rupert snarled at me, then closed his eyes in pain. "I guessed that. Hang on to me, I'll get you to the chair. And put this on your jaw, I think it's already starting to swell." I half-dragged, half-supported him as he staggered over to one of the chairs, then let him collapse for a few seconds. "They know everything, don't they? Xander and Willow?" Rupert blinked fuzzily, sighed and mumbled, "Yes. Since Buffy first arrived. She saved them from a rather ugly situation her first week here." "Oh, great." I crossed my arms and glared at him. "How are we going to protect them if they show up? They should stay home---" "Which is why I didn't want them to know about this... I'm afraid we won't be able to. Xander is headstrong enough to insist on a course of action that could put him in danger, and Willow may refuse to be left behind, no matter how much she may wish to hide." Giles looked older and tireder, his face open and defenseless without his lenses on, defeat slumping his shoulders as he regarded me. He readjusted the icepack, stifling a groan. "If we all stay together here, we may be able to do so...." His voice trailed off and his eyes looked distant and sad. Thinking of Buffy, probably. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he murmured huskily. "She's too young. Even for a Slayer, she's too young to die." "You tried," I whispered, knowing it wasn't any comfort. "She knew what she was doing when she left..." I sat down next to him, suddenly feeling exhausted. "She said," I cleared my throat. "'Make up something cool, tell him I said it.' And that she was hoping to take him with her, if...." I broke off, unwilling to say it. "Of course," Rupert responded, trying to be brisk, trying to smile. Neither effort worked very well. I wanted to hold his hand, to tell him it would be okay, but I couldn't. Even if we averted the apocalypse, Buffy might not survive. And that would be one loss too many right there. That was how Xander and Willow found us a few minutes later. "Giles! You got hurt!" were the first words out of her mouth, along with an uncertain look at me. "Are you okay?" "Almost. Buffy pulled her punch," Giles said, avoiding both of their eyes. "*Buffy* did this?" Xander looked aghast, then grim. "Awright. Enough already. Spill it, Giles, what's going on? Why did those guys die in the A/V room this morning?" "I wish I didn't have to tell you. You should have stayed out of it. Both of you," Rupert said, looking pointedly at Willow, then at Xander, raising his eyebrows. The boy just rolled his eyes and made a face behind Willow's back. Clearly, there was no way Xander could have stopped her from coming along, despite the shock she'd had that morning. "I'm not staying out of it." Willow's chin looked like it wanted to quiver, but she crossed her arms stubbornly, her eyes remaining on the librarian's face. "I need to know why... that happened, in the A/V room." "There is a prophecy," Rupert shifted in his chair, and closed his eyes, "that the Master will be freed tonight. Buffy and I... disagreed about something, yesterday. I wasn't certain that letting her face him would be a good idea. Therefore, I was preparing to go in search of him this evening." "Are you *whacked*?" Xander asked, his voice rising dangerously. I stared, totally unprepared for his response. Evidently, Buffy wasn't the only one who felt comfortable treating Giles casually. "That's insane! He'd kill you!" "Perhaps he would! But the prophecy also stated that if the Master rose, the Slayer would most certainly die!" Snobby was reaching the end of his tether, and then he pulled back abruptly, reasserting control over himself as he saw Willow's white, stunned expression. "Which was why we... disagreed." He closed his eyes again, pulling in on himself. "So, where _is_ she?" Giles wasn't looking at me, his eyes closed in pain, either emotional or physical, but I knew that he wouldn't be able to say it. So I told them, since someone had to. Keeping my voice steady, I said, "She went to find the Master." Xander whirled around, shocked, his eyes wide. "She *what*?" "I _told_ you there was something going on with her...." Willow's voice was sad and plaintive as she perched on the reading table. The other teen turned to Snobby, demanding, "And she knew about this prophecy of yours?" Rupert gave a short, pained nod, and Xander groaned. "Oh man, what do we do?" "We stay calm, firstly," Giles cautioned, adjusting the icebag on his jaw. "Calm?!" "I think he's right." Willow was biting her lip, obviously scared but trying not to make the situation any worse. Which equally obviously wasn't one of her friend's concerns. "I'm sorry, calm may work for Locutus of the Borg here, but I'm freaked and I intend to stay that way!" Xander snapped, pacing around the library table. Rupert didn't react to the insult... possibly because he didn't understand it, I realized. He was starting to come out of his funk, looking hurt and confused but more aware now. "Xander...." Willow pleaded. He ignored her, turning back to the Brit, his expression full of accusation. "How could you let her go?" "As the soon-to-be-purple area on my jaw will attest, I did not *let* her go!" Rupert snapped back, but with more restraint than Xander deserved, in my opinion. Willow, typically, didn't succumb to the atmosphere of growing annoyance and pulled the conversation back on track. "Well, how can we help her?" "Ah, I'm sorry to bring this up, but we also have an apocalypse to worry about..." I said, hoping we could start concentrating on what we could do to avert the approaching catastrophes, instead of who was to blame for the prophecy coming to pass. Xander glared at me with disbelief and irritation, and then drawled out, "Do you mind?" I was still gaping at this put-down when Willow spoke up. "How come *she's* in the club?" She asked Rupert, sounding confused and defensive, which pricked my ego and then put _me_ on the defensive. Evidently it wasn't enough for them that Rupert had clued me in; the wary, distrustful looks I was getting gave me the impression that as far as vampire-slaying was concerned, they thought of me as a newbie amateur, while they were pros. It didn't help that I was feeling left out, and that both Xander and Willow seemed much more at ease with the situation than I did. //They've had more time to get used to it---but damn, I wish I was handling this better....// "Hey! Once the Hellmouth opens, the demons come to party, and _everybody_ dies," I said sharply. I wasn't willing to give up yet, just because Buffy had gone to face the Master. There _had_ to be another way around this, and maybe a way to save Buffy in the process--- "I don't care," Xander stated in a flat voice. I stared at him disbelievingly, anger rising as he unflinchingly met my eyes and then repeated, "I'm sorry, I don't. Right now I've got to help Buffy." The certainty in his stance threw me, stopping me from putting forth any of the obvious objections. Xander wasn't treating me as an adult, or a teacher, and he wasn't acting like a kid. The same eerily grown-up quality that Buffy had was working through him too, and an expression of resolve that I never could have imagined had settled on his face. //You're in love with Buffy,// I thought abruptly, glancing at Willow's averted face. She knew, I realized. She knew how he felt about her friend. //Xander, you're crazy, you can't go after her---// I didn't say it. He didn't look crazy; he looked just a little bit scary, and I wondered if this was something that had always been inside of him, or something he'd learned through association with Buffy and Giles. "We don't even know where she's gone," Rupert protested, wincing slightly. Xander's jaw hardened, and he turned and strode for the exit. "No, but I can find out," he threw over his shoulder without looking back. "*What*?" I looked around at the other two, Willow watching Xander leave with hurt, scared eyes, and Giles getting to his feet, his teeth gritted in pain. "Aren't we going to stop him?" "How?" Rupert asked baldly, throwing the icebag down on the table, letting out a breath of annoyance. "If he think he can help, perhaps he can. Xander can be very clever when he's... motivated. In any event, nothing short of cracking _him_ on the jaw will stop him now." He blinked several times, then firmly put his glasses back on. "Enough. You're quite right, Calender. We have to avert the opening of the Hellmouth. If we can do that---and if Xander can buy us some time---" "Maybe all isn't lost?" I suggested softly. "Yes." He gave a tight nod, not meeting my eyes for a moment. "We can, at least, give them a good showing. If the two of you are with me?" Rupert glanced at Willow, who nodded shakily, then he smiled grimly at me. "Let us proceed, then...." * Christina vqrw76a@prodigy.com Comments? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: perridox@enteract.com (Perri Smith) Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (5/8) Date: 13 Oct 1997 18:39:19 -0500 (CDT) See disclaimer in part 1. The Stranger (Part 5) by Perri Smith Copyright 1997 ***** Still, vampires and moral dilemmas aside, life went on, and Buffy had a history test in the next day to worry about -- especially since she'd cut every history class for the last week. So she and Willow came back to the library after dinner, and settled down to the business of forcing basic information about the Civil War into Buffy's head. Which was even more of a chore than usual. Buffy was still blanking out, her problems with Angel looming much higher in her mind than any schoolwork could. Willow sympathized, but kept trying. Buffy needed the distraction, if nothing else. Willow occasionally wondered how she'd become the de facto tutor for the Slayerettes, but not often -- it was basically because she was the only one who actually cared about the schoolwork. Xander cared about his grades, but not enough to work up any enthusiasm about studying, and Buffy wasn't too big on the whole school thing even when she wasn't distracted by Slaying. Which left it to Willow to force feed them both enough knowledge to keep them all from flunking out. Now, sensing she'd once again lost Buffy's attention, she resorted to a pop quiz. "Okay, so let's review. Reconstruction began when?" No response. "Buffy?" Buffy blinked and abruptly came back to the present. Unfortunately, the present wasn't going to do her any good with history. "Um, reconstruction began... after the.. construction, which was shoddy, so they had to reconstruct." No wonder she was failing history; she couldn't even bluff an answer. "After the destruction of the Civil War," Willow corrected her gently. "Right." Buffy nodded. "The Civil War. When Angel was already like, a hundred and change." Willow looked at her with an attempt at Giles' stern expression, the one that never worked. "Are we going to talk about boys or are we going to keep you from flunking history?" Buffy's look spoke volumes, and Willow gave up. There were much more interesting things to discuss than the Civil War, anyway. "Sometimes," she confided, happily shoving the textbook aside and leaning forward, "I have this fantasy that Xander's just going to grab me and kiss me, right on the lips!" Buffy smiled, finally distracted. "If you want Xander, you've got to speak up, girl," she said for about the hundredth time. The very thought was enough to make Willow's mouth go dry, and her head go light. "Oh, no, no, no. No speaking up. That way leads to madness, and sweaty palms." Besides, she knew who Xander wanted, and it wasn't her. All speaking up would do was cost her her oldest friend. She changed the subject back to the one she'd been trying to avoid, feeling just the slightest bit guilty about it. "Okay, so here's something I've got to know. When Angel kissed you -- I mean, before he...." Her voice trailed off significantly, and Buffy nodded. "How was it?" Buffy tried to stay serious, but a silly smile spread across her face anyway. "Unbelievable," she admitted. "Wow," Willow breathed. If she couldn't have a life, she was more than happy to live vicariously through Buffy's. And the very thought of being *really* kissed, let alone by someone like Angel, was enough to make her teeth tingle. "And it *is* kind of novel how he'll stay young and good-looking forever," she thought out loud, barely hearing herself. "Although you'll still get wrinkly and die, and oh, what about the children...?" She was frowning over that idea when she looked up, saw Buffy's wry, amused smile, and realized she was once again babbling, and not particularly sensitively. "I'll be quiet now." "No, it's okay," Buffy assured her with a heavy sigh. "I need to hear this. I need to get over him so I can...." Buffy couldn't even say it, Willow thought sympathetically, how could she do it? "So that you can..." Actually, Willow couldn't say it either; she settled for miming the staking motion, with her fuzzy-topped gnome pencil as a prop. Buffy winced, but nodded. "Like Xander said, I'm the Slayer, and he's a... vampire.... God, I *can't*!" she suddenly exploded. "He's never done anything to hurt me...." She broke off and visibly got control of herself, sitting up straight and pulling her textbook closer. "Okay, I've got to stop thinking about this. Let's give it another half hour and maybe something will sink in." Her shoulders slumped again. "And then I'm going home for some major moping." Willow wished again she could think of something wise and comforting to say. She settled for smiling sympathetically yet again, and opening her textbook back up to the study questions. She had no faith in Buffy's ability to study tonight, but it was always worth a shot. "The era of the Congressional Reconstruction, usually called...." ***** Sure enough, nothing sunk in, although Buffy did give it an honest effort. At the end of half-an-hour, both of them were more than ready to call it quits. "I'm sorry I wasted so much of your night, Will." Buffy looked more depressed than when they'd started. "It's okay," Willow assured her. "It's not like there are all these other things I could be doing." "Still...." Buffy slowly loaded her backpack up. "I guess I'd better get home or Mom will start worrying. I'll walk you home first, though." "Good. 'Cause I was going to ask you to." Willow made a face. "I'd just as soon not have any solo encounters with vampires any time soon." That had been badly phrased, she realized, as shadows flickered back across Buffy's face. Before she could say anything to fix the damage, though, Xander's voice called out, "Haven't you two had enough of the study thing yet?" "Xander?" They both turned around, and saw him leaning through the side door, one of the key rings Giles had given all of them weeks before dangling from his hand. "What are you doing here?" Buffy scolded him, putting her backpack over her shoulder. "It's after dark, you shouldn't be wandering around alone." Xander looked wounded, an expression he did particularly well. It had something to do with his soft, puppy dog brown eyes, Willow figured. "Here I am, going out of my way to offer my services as an escort home, and all I get is abuse. Whatever happened to gratitude?" Willow and Buffy exchanged looks; they all knew if anyone was going to be offering protection on the way home, it was going to be Buffy, not Xander. But there was no real point in further destroying his ego. "Thank you, Xander," they chorused sweetly instead, each girl taking one of his arms. "We'll feel much safer with you around," Willow added ingenuously. Xander heard the sarcasm, judging from his quick look down at her, but apparently decided to ignore it. "That's much better," he approved instead. "Aren't you glad you've got me around?" That one was much too easy, not even worth an insult, so they didn't bother. Giles had left school at something close to a normal time, for once; the trio locked the side door behind them and headed for home. Seeing Buffy's state of exhaustion, Willow signaled to Xander that they should drop her off first. He looked unhappy about it -- probably hoping to get rid of Willow and have some time alone with Buffy -- but gave in after a sharp glare and sharper poke in the ribs. Both of which were probably a bit sharper than they needed to be, but Willow was feeling hostile tonight. It was a sign of how tired she was that Buffy not only didn't notice Willow and Xander's by-play, but also didn't protest when they walked her to her front door. She simple gave them an off-hand, "Night, guys," and headed inside. "Nice to feel appreciated," Xander said, staring at the closed door. "You know she appreciates you," Willow soothed his wounded pride, taking his arm to tug him away from the door and back down towards the sidewalk. "She's just distracted, and tired. You'll see, she'll be much happier to see us in the morning, after she's gotten some sleep." "Yeah, if she doesn't have nightmares about that Angel guy." Xander frowned back at Buffy's house over his shoulder. "I don't get him. Why mess around with Buffy's head like that? I mean, what kind of sicko is he?" "Maybe he's not a sicko," Willow defended Angel. "We don't enough about him to know *what* he was doing." "We know enough," Xander told her flatly. "He's a vampire, a killer. How can you still defend him after what Giles told us?" "Maybe because I'm not half-insane from jealousy." Willow hadn't really meant for Xander to hear her mutter - not *really* -- but he did anyway. "Oh, so now *I'm* the crazy one? You're trying to make a vampire into a good guy and *I'm* nuts? Or are you just as gone on him as Buffy is?" "No!" Willow protested automatically as they turned the corner at the end of Buffy's street. It was true, she wasn't 'gone' on Angel -- even if she hadn't been so in love with Xander, Angel was way out of Willow's league, and she knew it. But the accusation hurt. "I just think everyone's jumping to conclusions and it's not fair." "Willow--" She didn't know what he was about to say, and never would. Before he could finish his sentence, a crash of shattering glass came from the block they'd just turned off of. There'd been a time when they would have assumed it was something innocent, and gone on their way. Now, they turned as one and raced back towards Buffy's house. The glass turned out to have been Buffy's front window, which now lay in shards all over the sidewalk, as if something had exploded through it. But Buffy's pleading voice was coming from the back, so they didn't stop to investigate. The back door was standing open, the lock splintered. They skidded over the threshold, Xander calling Buffy's name -- and stopped cold, taking in the scene before them. Buffy knelt next to her mother, who was stretched unconscious on the floor. Willow's heart skipped several beats when she saw the puncture wounds on Mrs. Summers' neck... and the blood. "What happened?" she asked in something perilously close to blind panic. "Angel." Buffy's face was as hard as her voice when she answered, and the single word said it all. Willow started to shake her head in denial, but it had to be true. Mrs. Summers had been attacked by a vampire, and only one vampire had been invited into the Summers' home. Angel was a bad guy. Perri I *am* the Buffy Evangalist! NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ "I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Perri Smith Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (6/8) Date: 13 Oct 1997 19:13:27 -0500 (CDT) See part one for disclaimers The Stranger (Part 6) by Perri Smith Copyright 1997 ***** The next few hours passed in a blur. The ambulance arrived after what seemed like forever, the paramedics gently but firmly shoving everyone out of the way as they hooked Mrs. Summers up to an IV and loaded her into the ambulance. Buffy rode with her mom; Xander and Willow followed on foot as fast as they could. For all the good it did them; they wound up sitting around in the waiting room, watching Buffy fill out paperwork with single-minded intensity. To Xander's credit, the words 'I told you so' never once crossed his lips; he spent most of his time pacing around the room, since Buffy did *not* want to be comforted. Willow finally thought to call their parents to explain where they were, then, instinctively, dropped another quarter into the phone and called Giles. He was asleep, of course -- it was almost midnight and he'd been spending way too many nights in the library -- but he got the phone on the third ring, with a bleary, "Hello?" "Giles? It's me. Um, me, Willow." "Willow?" It sounded like it took him a second to recognize her name; if she hadn't been so upset, it might have been funny. "Have you and Buffy started a club, trading off disturbing my sleep, is that it? Will I get a call from Xander tomorrow night?" "Giles, this is serious," she cut him off before his sarcastic British humor could get any sharper. "We're at the hospital." That woke him up. "Buffy?" "Her mom. Angel..." It was surprisingly hard to say the words. "Angel... attacked her. Buffy came home and saw him holding her mom's body. She.... Giles, can you get here? Please?" "It's all right, Willow, I'll be there as soon as I can," he said soothingly, but with an edge of urgency to his voice that spoiled the effect. "Buffy's mother, is she all right?" "No one's saying anything." Willow heard the edge of tears in her own voice. "Buffy looks like she's going to start breaking things, or maybe people, and --" She saw Xander signaling her at the end of the hall, and broke off before she could start crying for real. "Giles, I have to go, I think they've got some news." "Go, then," he said quickly. "I'm on my way." She sniffed and hung up, then raced back to the waiting room, where the doctor was telling Buffy, "We've given your mother two pints of blood and her red count is stabilizing. We'll going to keep her overnight, just to be on the safe side, but I think she's going to be fine." Willow breathed a sigh of relief, but Buffy just nodded. Her face didn't change from the hard, controlled mask she'd been wearing since she found her mother. "Do you have any idea what could have happened to her?" the cdoctor asked, looking puzzled. "I don't often see that sort of puncture wound on the neck. It's an awkward place to hurt yourself." "I don't know how it happened," Buffy lied, instantly and totally straight-faced. "Can I see her?" "Of course; she's awake and asking for you." Buffy followed the doctor down the hall; Willow and Xander exchanged looks and trailed behind, neither particularly wanting to let Buffy out of their sight while she was wearing *that* expression. Buffy's mom looked pale and weak, but infinitely better than she had two hours before, if only because she was sitting up and her eyes were open. A bag of blood ran through an IV into the back of her hand. "Hi, honey," she said weakly, as Buffy came up to the bed. "Hi, Mom," Buffy said gently, carefully taking her hand. Willow waved weakly, but stayed towards the back of the room with Xander, hovering uncertainly. "I'm sorry I scared all of you," Mrs. Summers said, with a vague smile in the Slayerettes' direction. "Such a silly accident." "It's okay," Willow assured her quickly. "As long as you're all right." "Oh, I'll be fine." She tried to wave breezily, but was hampered by the IV flowing into one arm and the transfusion tube in the other. Buffy leaned over her mother. "Do you remember anything, mom?" she asked carefully. "Just, um...." Mrs. Summers tried to think; it obviously hurt her sore head. "Your friend came over," she said finally, slowly, "I was going to make a snack... " "My friend?" Buffy repeated hollowly. Willow winced. Another mark against Angel. Mrs. Summers didn't appear to notice. "I guess I slipped and cut my neck on... the doctor said it looked like a barbeque fork. We don't have a barbeque fork." She looked up at Buffy with a puzzled expression as the door opened again and Giles came in. He was wearing a scarf over his open coat, and looked as if he'd run all the way from the parking lot to the recovery ward. He must have been running, Willow realized as she looked at her watch. He'd probably set a new world record from his house to the hospital. Giles spared a moment to look at Buffy, then Willow and Xander, as if assuring himself they were all safe, as Mrs. Summers asked in confusion, "Are you another doctor? "Oh." Buffy noticed Giles's arrival for the first time; she'd been too wrapped up in her mom to notice if an entire squad of vampires had come walking through. "No, Mom, this is Mr. Giles." Mrs. Summers nodded in recognition. "The librarian from your school." Then she went back to looking confused. "What's he doing here?" Giles covered quickly, if not particularly well, giving Buffy's mother the same quick once-over he'd just given the other three. "I just came to pay my respects, wish you a speedy recovery." Fortunately, Mrs. Summers was too tired to question how the news had spread so fast. Instead, she seemed pleased by his presence. "The teachers really do care in this town." "Get some rest, now," Buffy told her, obviously eager to get Giles *out* of the same room as her mother. She kissed her mom carefully, then led the way out of the room, the others trailing behind her. "She's gonna be okay," Buffy told Giles as soon as they were out of Mrs. Summers' earshot. The Slayer looked dazed, as if the reality of what had happened had finally sunk in. Willow didn't blame her; she was close to leaning on Xander to hold herself up. "They gave her some iron, her blood count was, um, a little...." Giles picked up the sentance when Buffy faltered. "A little low? It presents itself like mild anemia. You were lucky you got to her as soon as you did." "Lucky?" Buffy's face was fading from shock back to hard, cold rage. "Stupid." Xander looked as creeped out as Willow felt. "Buff, it's not your fault--" he started. Buffy cut him off ruthlessly. "It isn't? I invited him into my home. Even after I knew who he was, what he was, and I didn't do anything because I had feelings for him. Because I *cared* about him." The self-disgust in her voice had gotten thicker with every word; Willow couldn't stand it. "If you care about somebody," she said haltingly, unable to resist the quick, sideways glance at Xander, "you *care* about them. You can't change that by...." "Killing him?" Buffy said it easily, casually. "Maybe not, but I think it's a start." Willow wanted to argue further, but something in her friend's eyes stopped her. Buffy wasn't going to listen to anyone just now; the Slayer had taken over and there was no room for anything else. All Willow could do was nod as Xander said, carefully, "We'll keep an eye on your mom," and follow him back into the room. Xander looked back once at Giles and Buffy, as the Watcher continued to argue with the Slayer. Willow didn't bother. Buffy had gone to work, as if it were some nameless, faceless vampire instead of Angel, who Buffy had mooned over and insulted and kissed. Then again, maybe it would have been easier if it had been a nameless vampire. It would have been business as usual, not such a harsh betrayal. Willow felt that betrayal as deeply as her friend, because she had defended Angel. If she hadn't, if she had backed Giles and Xander up when they tried to convince Buffy Angel was a threat, would Buffy's mom still be in that hospital bed? If Willow hadn't wanted so desperately to believe, if she hadn't been so helplessly, romantically sure Angel was a good guy, could she have stopped all of this? She sighed and huddled in on herself in the stiff, uncomfortable hospital chair next to the bed, looking at Buffy's mom. She had fallen asleep, her face pale and the circles underneath her eyes pronounced. The blood dripped steadily from the bag above her head, replacing what had been taken from her. She would get better; the doctors said so. Willow wished it would be as easy to heal everyone else who'd been wounded tonight. ***** Giles returned to the hospital room looking grim, and dragged another chair up beside Willow's, sinking into it with an exhausted, nearly soundless sigh. Xander paced slowly up and down the far end of the room. No one said a word, but Willow knew it wasn't Mrs. Summers they were standing vigil for. It got to be too much fairly quickly; Willow excused herself quietly and went into the hall, where at least there were people and distractions -- things to occupy her other than her own thoughts. The magazines in the waiting area were months out of date, of course, but it wasn't like she could concentrate enough to read them. She just flipped through them, staring blindly at the pages. Waiting. "I didn't know fishing was your thing, Will." She looked up at Xander, standing over her with a determined, painful-looking grin on his face, then back down at the magazine in her hand. Fishing Weekly, sure enough. She forced a smile to match his, and laid the magazine down carefully. "Oh, you know, just brushing up for my next bass fishing trip." "Never know when you might get the chance to catch the big one," Xander agreed solemnly. She expected him to sit beside her, wished he would, so she could lean against him for comfort. But he stayed on his feet, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Go ahead, say it." She was surprised to find herself still smiling, a tired, resigned smile in Xander's general direction. "You've been dying to all night, you might as well get it out of your system." Xander didn't look at her. "Say what?" "Xander." "Oh, that. You mean the 'I told you so' thing." Willow looked at him sideways. "Yeah, that would be the thing." Xander shrugged, his hands never leaving his pockets. "I wasn't going to say it." He must have seen the disbelief in her eyes, because he added defensively, "Okay, I might have been *thinking* it, but I wasn't going to say it." "Why not?" Willow sighed. "You were right, we were wrong, and now Buffy's going to kill Angel, just like you said she should." "Hey!" Xander's voice was sharp enough and surprising enough to pull her out of her funk. "You think I *wanted* to be right?" Well, that was a no-brainer. "Yeah, I do." Xander flinched, then nodded. "Okay, yeah, I wanted to be right. True enough. But I didn't want to be this right." He started pacing again, up and down the waiting room. "I'm not a *total* idiot, you know; I saw what she looked like. She's gonna kill this guy, but it's not gonna stop her from blaming herself, it's not gonna stop her from feeling like someone stabbed a stake in *her* back." He stopped in front of the window, staring out of it in the general direction of the Bronze, his shoulders tight. "I'd like to kill him myself for doing that to Buffy." His laugh was bitter and humorless. "If I had half a chance of beating her to it." Willow stared at him. She would never have believed Xander was capable of this kind of emotion, this kind of cold anger. She'd seen him mean before, when the hyena had taken him over, and she'd seen him mad, countless times over their childhood. But never like this. Right then, she didn't even know him. Sh couldn't think of anything to say, so she didn't say anything. After a silent minutes, Xander turned away from the window to look at her. Everything she was feeling must have been written on her face, because he made a visible effort to smile. "Hey, cheer up," he grinned crookedly, back to the same Xander she'd always known, trying to reassure her when he was scared to death himself. "It could be worse, she could be having to stalk down and destroy Cordelia. Now *that* would be scary. She'd probably have designer fangs and everything." It shouldn't have been funny, but the morbid humor struck exactly the right nerve; Willow started giggling helplessly at the image of Cordelia decked out with monogrammed fangs and colored conacts, so her eyes would glow purple instead of yellow. She shared the image with Xander, he retaliated with facials at an exclusive midnight salon, and pretty soon they were howling. It wore off, of course; the mild hysteria passed after a few minutes, leaving them sprawled over the uncomfortable couch trying to catch their breath. Willow felt a moment of guilt, thinking of Buffy stalking through the darkness as Willow and Xander laughed their heads off, but was running out of energy for more than a twinge. Eventually, Xander dragged himself to his feet and held a hand out to help Willow up. "Come on, we'd better make sure Giles hasn't bored Mrs. Summers into a coma. Buffy'd really be mad, then." Willow gave him a half-hearted glare, too tired for much of anything else, but took the offered hand and somehow made it back to vertical. She expected him to drop her hand and he did, but only to put his arm around her shoulders. Surprised and grateful, she leaned on him. They made it as far as the hospital room before Willow stopped, hearing Giles's voice from inside. He sounded upset, and looked even more so when he came striding out of the room, already pulling his coat on. "We have a problem," he announced, as the pair fell in step beside him. Perri I *am* the Buffy Evangalist! NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ "I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander of Angel ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Anya Subject: BUFFYFIC: OT: Slayer's Fanfic Archive is DOWN Date: 13 Oct 1997 20:44:59 -0400 I'm sorry to do this, but I thought I should inform people: The SLAYER'S FANFIC ARCHIVE has been shutdown (again) by the server it's on, due to it's size. It's currently 23MBs in size, and they can't support it at it's current growth rate. Biohaz and I will be relocating it to Simplenet, as soon as I can financially afford to. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but assure people, this is temporary. ~Anya ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: VQRW76A@prodigy.com (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (6/6) Date: 13 Oct 1997 20:44:13, -0500 Even given bits and pieces of "When She Was Bad..." I think this is the way the prom happened. :> 'S been a trip. And now, I'm taking a break! Chris vqrw76a@prodigy.com "Shadow of an Apocalypse" (6/6) by Christina Kamnikar copyright 1997 It was definitely a sign of the Apocalypse: Cordelia Chase was fixing Willow Rosenberg's hair. "I really appreciate you doing this, Cordelia," Willow said doubtfully, "but I'd appreciate it more if I could actually _see_ it---" "She's doing fine, Will." Buffy combed out a few tangles, frowned at the comb, then more carefully unsnarled a few knots. "I won't let her do anything weird to you, okay?" She grinned at me and narrowed her eyes in concentration as she played with her hair. "Keep your eyes closed, and don't turn your head," Cordelia ordered, twirling the ends of three or four small braids together in a concoction that was too complicated for me to follow. It was amazing what she could do with a hair pik and a round brush; upon arriving at the Bronze, she'd dragged all four of us females into the Ladies Room, claiming that if we were going to crash the Prom without proper dresses, the least "her" dance demanded was decent hair. Buffy had already managed to get most of the water stains out of her trailing skirts, and we'd gotten some antiseptic from the bartender for the scratches across her chest. Giddiness was the mood of the hour; relief and adrenaline had combined to make all of us a little silly. Buffy in particular seemed in amazingly high spirits, almost euphoric with victory. //Well, she came back from the dead. How many times do you survive something like that? Of *course* she's punchy.// I chuckled weakly at some joke of Willow's as Cordelia teased her mane, and realized that it was hitting me too. //Alive. And the sun's coming up tomorrow... And we beat some very, very, very Bad Dudes. Life is good...// I put on some lipstick and firmly refused Cordelia's wide-eyed offers to "fix" my look too; something was going on with the girl. Altruism wasn't something she was known for, although she obviously had more character than I'd given her credit for, to have bitten a vampire not an hour earlier. Her efforts to aid Willow looked suspiciously like stalling to me.... "Cordelia? You don't have to go out there if you don't want to," I gently suggested, catching the girl's gaze in the mirror. "We'd be happy to have you join us, but---" "Oh, please." The May Queen tossed her head, her eyes shifting away from mine. "Once we're out of here, they're on their own. This is just sort of a... thank-you present. Since Buffy wanted to do her own hair," she rationalized, spraying Willow's 'do with a small aerosol of hairspray. Buffy and Willow wore identical expressions of mingled exasperation and amusement as Cordelia went on. "The end of the world's been postponed. The least I could do to make Willow look presentable. But I'm not hanging with you guys all night. I have my own friends here, you know." "Gee, thanks." Willow cracked open one eye, her mouth twitching. "Can I look now?" "No. I have to do your face." "Cordelia, don't you want to fix your own hair?" Buffy asked, wiping off some mascara smudges with a damp paper towel. "My hair's fine." Cordelia's focus had narrowed down to Willow's face, now defining her lips with a pale peach pencil. "Besides, no one's going to be looking at me." "You're the May Queen," I pointed out. "*Someone* will be looking at you, it's only normal---" "I don't have a dress, I don't have a date---" Cordelia's voice broke off abruptly, and her mouth thinned as she got out blush for Willow. "Those were the things that killed Kevin, weren't they? The... vampires?" she asked in a very low voice. "I'm sorry, Cordelia," Willow said, blinking her eyes open. "We weren't supposed to tell anyone." "Like anyone would believe you," the other girl snorted. Her lips were trembling by now, though her voice was still sarcastic. Buffy joined them at the mirror, Willow still facing away from it towards Cordelia. The brunette was brushing peach sparkly powder onto Willow's cheekbones in a tone that matched the lipstick. "You helped us beat the guys that hurt Kevin," the Slayer said quietly, getting out her own lipstick and applying a light coat. "Maybe you don't feel like being here, but you earned it. And you *are* May Queen. No one's going to tell you that you can't attend in chinos." "True." Cordelia looked consideringly at Buffy in the mirror, then at me. She shrugged impatiently, and put some pale brown mascara on Willow's eyes, blotted it with a tissue, then drew back. "*Now* you can look." "Nice," Willow said in surprise, blinking at herself hesitantly. "Thanks, Cordelia. I think I can go in there now, even without a formal... I just wish I'd brought another pair of shoes." "Annie Vega is wearing Doc Martens. Your sneakers are fine." Cordelia picked up her purse and headed for the door, then stopped, turning back to look at the three of us. "You guys do this stuff all the time, right?" "More or less," Buffy admitted. "No *wonder* you're weird," Cordy mused, shaking her head. "It's been real, but let's not do this again, 'kay?" And with that, she was out the door before any of us had a chance to find a comeback. "I look okay, right? I mean, I'm not exactly an expert on hair---" Willow fingered the vaguely Grecian waterfall that fell from the crown of her head with worry, and I grinned. "You look fine, Willow. It suits you." "You look awesome. The one thing Cordy never gets wrong is hair," Buffy added bracingly, squaring her shoulders and smiling at me as she headed for the door. "C'mon, the guys are waiting." Willow and Buffy exited the restroom and were almost immediately met by Angel and Xander. Gratifyingly for Willow, Xander actually didn't look at Buffy for a few minutes as he tried to figure out what was holding Willow's hair up. "Yeah, it looks great, but if I pull *this* pin---" "Xander!" Against one wall, Cordelia was already holding court, surrounded by several of her friends and admirers, all of them offering her sympathy, from what I could see. I shook my head at the sight of her basking in the glow of the attention, and wondered how long it be before she was back to her old self completely; then I glanced back at Buffy, who would probably never be entirely the same again. She was already out on the dance floor with Angel, her arms looped around his neck, gazing into his face in silent wonder. Surprised to be alive, dancing with him, maybe? Whatever she felt, she deserved to celebrate. She'd defeated vampires, prophecies, and death itself tonight, and I couldn't think of anyone in recent memory who'd done so much while receiving so little credit. //Save the world, go to the Prom, no big deal. Life's simple...// Giles was leaning against the bar, studying the dancers and the flickering lights, and I wandered over to him and perched myself on a bar stool. "Hey, stranger. Come here often?" "Not if I can help it." He smiled wearily but genuinely at me, his eyes still on the dancefloor. The Bronze was decorated in gold and silver decorations, shimmering copper balloons and glowing nets of light criss-crossing its multi-leveled layout to create an illusion of being in a crystal ball of glitter. Beautiful, and strange, and even more precious now after the battle we'd just fought, full of kids laughing and dancing and being... kids. "She never ceases to amaze me," Giles murmured, watching the Slayer slow-dance with Angel, his eyes melancholy and not at all as triumphant as they deserved to be. I watched the pair for a few seconds, trying to see them through his eyes, to understand why he still looked worried. Angel was gazing down at Buffy with an expression of utter absorption; it was obvious that for him, there was no one else in the room. She returned it steadily, only aware of him. Any young man who would come to her and Xander's assistance against the Master couldn't be a bad choice for Buffy, just based on circumstances alone. "He's a little old for her, isn't he?" I guessed tentatively, hoping for a clue to the Watcher's concern. "It's not the age difference I'm worried about." Giles seemed to consider, then amended, "Well, not just the age difference...." His voice trailed off into a sigh. "Are you going to tell me about it?" I asked gently. The Brit turned, a little startled, then relaxed and shook his head. "Not tonight, no." "I thought you were through with secrets, Giles. Is there something about Buffy being a Slayer that makes her relationship with Angel a bad idea?" "It isn't a secret, it's just... sad." He caught my skeptical glance and smiled, but the sorrow didn't leave his expression. "Please, Ms. Calender. Ask me at some other time, and I will explain. But I don't wish to remember why they will have difficulties in the future. Not tonight." "Okay." I considered for a moment, then added, "Someday, some way, I'm going to get it all out of you, Giles. Even if it takes sodium pentothal...." He chuckled slightly, nodding his understanding. //You only *think* I'm not serious, Giles.... juuust wait....// Willow danced by with an enormous basketball player that I knew by sight; he seemed to be concentrating on not squashing Willow, who looked both thrilled and terrified to be there. I searched the room for Xander, and saw that he had persuaded a small blonde in red to dance with him, but his eyes were following Buffy and Angel---and straying occasionally to watch Willow with equal parts exasperation and pique. "Ah, Ms. Calender." Principal Snyder adores sneaking up on faculty. I think he suspects us of talking behind his back, or plotting his overthrow. Someday it may come to that.... "I'm so glad you could join us. And Mr. Giles, this _is_ a surprise. I thought you had a sick aunt you had to visit in Carmel?" "Coward," I whispered to Rupert, who had straightened and was now smiling stiffly at our boss. "At least I didn't try to lie my way out of this assignment." "She... got better," Giles answered, looking pained. "Amazing recovery.. We're all thrilled." "Glad to hear it. Well, keep a sharp look-out. You never know what these little pagans will get up to," Principal Snyder said darkly, stalking off across the room to the punchbowl. Giles's and my eyes met and we both burst into laughter, stifled as best we could so as to not re-attract the Fuhrer's attention. "Couldn't you do any better than a sick aunt?" "You're just sorry you didn't think of it first," Giles said, taking a sip of his drink, still chuckling a little. "I would've, if Snyder had given me half a chance---" "Hi guys," Buffy greeted us, coming up to the bar with a small smile, then turned to the bartender. "Could I get a burger with everything, some fries, and a latte grande?" At the bartender's look, she explained, "My date forgot to feed me. Please?" She turned back to us as he went to place our order, and shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say? I'm *really* hungry..." "Not surprising." Giles was hiding whatever unease he felt about Angel, only affection and pride in his eyes as he spoke. "You're entitled, I think. Coming back from the dead must be an exhausting experience." His voice dropped in concern. "You *are* feeling well, aren't you? Aside from the hunger?" "Giles, relax. I'm feeling..." Buffy's brow furrowed, and she frowned, searching for the word. "Exhilirated. That's it. Wired. It's pretty cool, actually. Except for the hungry part." She shook her head, her smile rueful. "My mom would be thrilled to see me ordering all this---I haven't felt like eating in weeks, and now I want to stuff my face. I never heard that being dead gave you an appetite." "About that---how exactly did you escape?" Rupert's expression was pure confusion now, and I grinned, knowing part of the explanation already. "Well... at first, when I got down there, I totally tanked when I faced the Master." Buffy's expression was troubled, and she looked away, watching the dancers for a second, then back at Giles, tilting her head and grimacing. "He bit me, and drank some of my blood. That's what set him free. The prophecy was backwards, Giles." "Oh, no... oh, bloody hell---" Rupert's voice was furious, and he squinted his eyes shut in sudden pain. "I should have known---" "Hey, not your fault, really! The creep said as much, that the prophecy was supposed to be like that, so I'd go down there. Lucky for me, he got cocky and just dropped me face-down in one of those little underwater ponds. Angel and Xander revived me with CPR. Did they have that back in the 15th Century?" Buffy asked thoughtfully. "No," I answered, since it appeared that Rupert was still silently cursing himself out for not being psychic. "So, there's no way Aurelius could have predicted it, since he didn't even know what it was." "Cool." The Slayer grinned, then sobered. "Giles, it was totally not your fault. I hit you, remember?" She sighed, her voice sounding much younger suddenly. "Then I got killed. You were right. Or at least, you weren't wrong. Doing this by myself was bad idea." She ducked her head, then looked up at him, her expression apologetic and a little apprehensive. "And... I'm sorry. About all the things I said yesterday." "I deserved them." The Brit seemed to have calmed down, and even, maybe regained his sense of humor. "No, I was way out of line, I was freaking---" "Perhaps, but you weren't entirely wrong, either." Giles cleared his throat, the rueful smile back in full force. "I've come to realize that believing that any destiny is immutable is one way of giving in to the enemy." Buffy lifted her chin, and Rupert's smile widened briefly. "I don't intend to let it happen again. From now on, I'll quite probably be unable to read any of the predictions without looking for a double meaning, or mentally hearing you say 'not even, Giles'." Buffy giggled, sixteen once more, and squeezed Giles's arm, her face warm with affection. "*Very* cool. Oh, awesome, my food's here." She paid the bartender, then took the huge platter and balanced it effortlessly on one hand. "Angel suggested that we go up where I can eat on the roof---he says there's a pretty good view of Sunnydale...." Her voice sounded tentative, as if waiting for Giles's approval, if not permission, and her face was full of anxiety and hopefulness. "Enjoy yourselves," Giles said quietly. Buffy relaxed and smiled glowingly at both of us, then walked over to Angel, following him through a side door, presumably up to the roof. "So, what happens now in the wonderful world of Sunnydale?" I asked, ordering a triple mocha from the bartender with a lovely feeling of contentment. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Willow and Xander dancing together, Xander talking vociferously, Willow watching him with amused disbelief, I think. Evidently she'd condescended to dance with him after the basketball player, and he was making up for lost time. "Summer. The Master is dead, so things will be easier for a little while. The days will grow longer, there will be fewer vampires in the vicinity..." Giles shrugged. "But we *are* living on the Hellmouth. There will always be a battle to fight." He paused, and studied me obliquely, then added in a voice that tried for lightness, "But _you_ do not have to be worried about it any longer, Ms. Calender. I think it unlikely that I will be dragging you into this kind of situation again." "Right. Like you can do it all on your own?" I snorted, blowing on my drink, and took a hesitant sip. "You are not Buffy. Or myself, for that matter. Calender, you are not compelled to face the forces of evil through a pre-set fate. You *can* leave, if you wish to. And I can't imagine, after tonight, why you would not...." His expression was sober and questioning, needing answers that he couldn't seem to bring himself to ask for. I met his eyes over my drink. I couldn't tell what answer he wanted, but I knew what answer I was going to give. "I don't bail on my friends, Giles." We shared a long look, and his eyes held mine, with a dozen unarticulated possibilities in them. I cleared my throat, adding, "Any more than Xander or Willow would. Or Angel." "No. I don't suppose you would." His very serious gaze warmed into tentative smile that finally reached his eyes. "We are friends, aren't we?" "To quote Buffy, *duh*!" I batted my eyelashes at him in exaggerated derision, and he chuckled. I got to my feet, feeling a wicked smile form as I reached for his hand. "C'mon, Giles. Dance this one with me. I see Coach Galway headed in our direction, and I need you to save me." "I have never known anyone who needed saving less..." Rupert said severely, not moving, but he did glance in the direction of the gym coach, and he didn't retrieve his hand. "Yeah? Well, I know who to appeal to if I do need saving, don't I, St. George?" "Oh, God..." Giles was blushing as I dragged him onto dance floor. "You're not going to let me forget that bit of momentary insane recklessness, are you?" "Not a chance. And don't try to tell me you wouldn't do it again, either. You've got a yen to be a hero, Rupert." I grinned, delighted at the way he refused to meet my eyes as the band segued into a low-key love song. "Fine. Then I insist on knowing your given name." "You don't know it?" I said in surprise. "I wouldn't be asking if I did," Giles replied dryly. "It's Jenny." "Jenny." Another slow smile, one of the ones that could distract me from arguing with him, or teasing him, or anything at all. "Suits you." Sometimes you don't need a snappy comeback. I closed my eyes, and forgot all about vampires and Darkness, resurrected Slayers and the Hellmouth, and just let the music take me for the rest of the song. * Un-freaking-believable. It's done.. Comment when ya can. :> Chris vqrw76a@prodigy.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: northcat@juno.com Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (4/6) Date: 14 Oct 1997 02:32:22 +0100 I seem to be missing part 3 and 5 of this story. Did they not get sent out or is it just my mailing service. Thanks in advance. Northcat-GASPer, keeper of Giles' office ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: VQRW76A@prodigy.com (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (3A/6) Date: 15 Oct 1997 03:39:47, -0500 See part 1 for disclaimers. Comments welcomed at vqrw76a@prodigy.com "Shadow of an Apocalypse" (3a/6) by Christina Kamnikar copyright 1997 The sun had almost set by the time I got to the high school and parked my car in the teacher's lot. There were only one or two other cars there, including Rupert's junker. Not that mine's much better; neither of us can afford the kinds of cars most of our students drive---bought and paid for by their parents. I hurried inside, wondering what could be scary enough to force Snobby to admit that he needed 'back up', and hoping it was just the deaths of four students in the school. Praying it wasn't anything more. I got my first shock of the night when I entered the library. Sunnydale's mild-mannered but acid-tongued librarian had opened the locked storage area where older books were usually kept and was busily extracting weapons from a cabinet I hadn't ever noticed before. "Rupert?" He turned to me with an enquiring expression, a glittering steel dagger in one hand, a handful of ninja throwing stars in the other. I gulped, feeling my eyes widen. "Are you arming for an invasion? Should I have brought my brass knuckles?" I picked up a knife, curved and deadly-looking, that he'd placed on one of the reading tables. "I mean, did you confiscate these from students, or what?" "Not precisely." He smiled thinly, adding the stars and dagger to the collection growing in the main library. His disheveled appearance from the day before had been smoothed as if it never existed, his cuffs buttoned, tie in place; only the deep weariness around his eyes hinted at any mental upset. "I've had these for quite some time---they're part of an extensive collection. They may be necessary in facing what's to come." I carefully replaced the knife, trepidation getting a claw-hold in my stomach again. "You said you were going to explain what's going on. Does it include a good reason for what happened this morning?" "Yes. You deserve to know what's going on, and if the worst occurs, someone else should be prepared for the consequences." He didn't look at me, and instead went back to rummaging in the weapons locker as he spoke, selecting one weapon, discarding another, bringing some back to the small display on the table. His voice remained even and calm as he began to lecture on what was obviously a very familiar subject. He didn't sound as if he particularly cared if I believed his explanation or not; and it struck me that for Rupert, things like other people's opinions had ceased to matter a long time ago. You couldn't say what he was saying as coolly as he was without having come to terms with what most people's reactions would be. //Either that, or he *does* trust you. And is more desperate than you thought.// "I expect you're aware that Sunnydale has a long history as a center of paranormal activity?" "It's come up in a couple conversations," I said cautiously. "My friend Cami mentioned some Spanish superstitions when I moved here; and I've got a few friends who've mentioned that this whole area of the coast seems to be jinxed...." It had actually seemed like a plus, back then. A chance to come in contact with concrete magic. Now, though, I realized I should have done more research before I accepted the position as Sunnydale High's comp sci teacher. "Cursed may be more accurate," Rupert said, stringing a crossbow and testing the sights. "'Boca del Infierno' was the Spanish name. 'Hellmouth' in English; rather more daunting in the original language...." He replaced the crossbow and began examining a set of stilettos, sliding them out of their scabbards and checking them for who-knew-what; rust? Sharpness? A sense of surreality hit me as I watched Snobby competently and fearlessly mess with some very nasty weapons. //I would have thought he'd hate this sort of thing....// "In any event, the upshot is the same: we are living on one of the dimensional gates to the demonic plane." "Whoa. Wait a minute. Back up a bit." I leaned forward, catching his gaze as he placed some of the curved daggers on the table, picking up the throwing stars and carrying them back to the collection. "Are you saying that *Sunnydale* is like... Angkor Wat? Stonehenge? Atlantis?" I sat down on one of the chairs, some of the weirdness of the last months falling into place. "A focus point for paranormal energy? One of the places in the world where you can move from--- world to world..." My voice trailed off as I considered the implications, shivering. //The site for the Last Battle?// And I'd been so hyped about getting a job within driving distance of San Francisco. "Specifically, the Hellmouth opens from our world to the first worlds of demons," Rupert was saying, his mouth tightening as he studied me; probably for signs of disbelief. His voice dropped as he went on. "Such portals are usually sealed, of course; their permanent opening would leave our world very vulnerable to... a great many things. But they can't be contained completely; they leak magic into our world as a matter of course. An area around a Hellmouth *will* attract the kinds of energy you mentioned---much of it very negative." He sighed, very softly, so softly I almost didn't catch it, then went on in a brisker tone. "Approximately sixty years ago, an attempt was made to open the Hellmouth." "Who would be crazy enough to do that?" I asked, swallowing hard, disbelief making my voice rise. "A vampire king." I stared at Rupert; he stared back, eminently sane, utterly British, waiting for me to protest, clear grey eyes evaluating my mental state while I tried to grasp the impossible. I opened my mouth; closed it. Picked up one of the little daggers and thought for a few seconds, my fingers shaking. "Okay," I murmured, nodding, not doubting him, even though every self-preservation instinct I had was screaming at me to get the hell out of there. "Okay." I put the dagger down, thinking of the kids in the A/V room. The urge to say "there are no vampires" came and went. Giles has a sense of humor, but it's not that sick. If he said there was a vampire king, there was a vampire king. I felt queasy, terrified, and vaguely silly; every movie cliche' I'd ever happily giggled over came back to me now with horror-tinged clarity. Somehow, I'd never taken my acceptance of the reality of Power into that dark an alley. But if there's Light in the world---and I know there is---there has to be Dark, doesn't there? I suddenly saw how naive I'd been, to never realize what that really meant before. //Someone has to fight the Dark. Here. Now.// Rupert was getting ready to do just that. In a couple minutes, I was going to have to ask him how I could help.... Taking a deep breath, I asked, "What has this got to do with the kids who were killed this morning?" "A great deal, unfortunately." A thread of pain wound through the matter-of-factness in his voice. Everything about Rupert was stretched taut, I realized; his voice, his movements, every muscle in his body---all seemed to be conserving energy for the fight to come. Whatever fight that was. "The Master, as he is called, has been trapped in the Hellmouth itself since the attempt he made in 1939--there was an earthquake that interrupted his spellcasting, and he was unable to free himself. The prophesied end to his imprisonment is approaching, and as the spell holding him weakens, more and more of his brethren have been gathering in Sunnydale. Thus... the attack, last night, upon the students who were here." The impersonal tone he'd been trying to affect slipped at the end of this speech, the previous ache palpable in his voice again; I thought of Willow, finding the bodies of her friends, and flinched away from the image as Rupert continued speaking. "If he succeeds in freeing himself, he will complete the incantation, and the Hellmouth will open. Leaving our world open to all the denizens of the demonic plane." "Goddess." I laced my fingers together, putting my head down on them and trying to think while Snobby made a few moves with a long axe, then thoughtfully returned it to the locker. I put what Rupert had told me together with what little I knew of Brother Luca's prophecies, and had a clearer picture about what we were up against. Panic hovered at the edges of my mind, and I told it to go away until after I was done grilling Rupert; it scuttled off for a bit, but not to where I couldn't see it hanging around still. I let my hands drop down from my face, and glared at Snobby. "Assuming that I can keep all this straight---and that it makes sense in the first place---how the _hell_ did you find all this out before I even had a clue?" "Ah." He had the grace to look guilty, I'll give him that. "We come to the more difficult part of the explanation now, I'm afraid. More difficult to believe, I mean...." He looked appealingly at me, possibly for a reprieve, but I just rolled my eyes. "I can't imagine how, Rupert. We've covered Hellmouths, vampire kings, and prophecy fulfillment in the last five minutes, what can *possibly* out-weird what you've told me so far?" "Good point." "You're stalling," I accused him. "You're absolutely correct." He took off his glasses, polished them with a handkerchief, put them back on, then determinedly forged on, watching my face the whole time, for --- what? Panic? Laughter? I realized we were getting to the part that actually impacted us just before Snobby finally confessed all. "My family has been interested... no, involved, in the occult, for generations. It's a long tradition, most of it concerned with vampires, and vampire watching... That's... what I am. A Watcher." I could hear the capital letter he put on the word, the emphasis he gave it, and understood that that was how he thought of himself: not as a librarian, or a teacher, or a historian, but a Watcher. "We have records dating back centuries; copies of the prophecies, predictions, dates... et cetera. All indications are that the Master will be freed tonight, through the actions of a vampire known as the Anointed One." "You've spent your whole life watching vampires?" I was beginning to feel punchy again, perception fighting reality and losing badly, the more Rupert told me about himself. I had a sudden image of Snobby noting down the flight habits of the North Californian Blood-Sucking Vampire in little book, with binoculars around his neck. I shook my head, wishing I'd gotten more sleep that morning. "Well... no. Not my entire life. And not vampires, really." He seemed embarassed, and adjusted his glasses again, glancing away from me. "Actually, I've been priviledged to be the teacher, and Watcher, of the Slayer." * Continued in part 3b Comments to vqrw76a@Prodigy.com Christina }|{ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: VQRW76A@prodigy.com (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (5a/6) Date: 15 Oct 1997 03:41:18, -0500 Disclaimers in part 1. Comments! I love 'em! Send to vqrw76a@prodigy.com "Shadow of an Apocalypse" (5/6) by Christina Kamnikar copyright 1997 I made myself coffee from some instant junk which Rupert had lying in the bottom drawer of his file cabinets, while he combed through the back stacks for reference material he needed. Giles had fixed some tea and thrown back several aspirin a few minutes before; he still didn't appear to be in great shape, but it wasn't bad enough to stop him. I'm not sure how bad it _would_ have had to be, to force him to quit searching for a way out at that point. Willow had slumped into one of the chairs immediately after Xander left, looking shocky and numb. Maybe she was still thinking about what she'd found that morning---or maybe she was worrying about her friends, out there facing monsters and dire predictions. I left her alone to try to cope, unsure whether she would welcome an intrusion on her thoughts, and drank my caffeine with a grimace, knowing I would need it even though it made me long for something decent. //We might be facing an all-nighter here. Who knows how long it'll take us to find a spell powerful enough to close a Hellmouth.// If we even could. I frowned as Rupert descended the steps, thinking hard as he spoke to me. "The Master is as old as any vampire on record. There's no telling how powerful he'll be if he reaches the surface." Rupert's arms were piled high with old leather-bound books, thick and weighty enough to squash small plants--- or at least intimidate them. I was too far into my new idea to really notice at that moment. "Okay, here's my question. The Hellmouth opens...." I mused aloud, following my train of thought to what I realized was a vital concern. "Yes?" Rupert asked, prompting me. I turned around, gesturing with my coffee cup. "Where? If he's underground and it opens right where he is, where is it going to open?" "Good point." The Brit looked thoughtful, his eyes unfocusing for a moment before he came back to the present. "Well, you should look through the back Chronicles---" He handed me one of the heavy doomsday books, and I hefted it with mild annoyance. Of *course* it hadn't been scanned into the computer a month ago; it was part of his private collection. //If we live through this, Snobby, this is going onto a disk...// "Willow. Willow?" Giles repeated, catching the girl's eye. "Hunh?" Willow blinked at him, still appearing stunned, clearly not paying attention to our conversation. "Could you look through the local histories, please. Check for any common denominators, locations of incidences and such." Giles' stutter faded in and out as he spoke, seeming preoccupied with his research and unaware of Willow's emotional state. "Right, okay," she nodded obediently and stood up, going over to the computer behind the returns desk. "She ought to be at home," I said in a low voice, settling into one of the uncomfortable reading chairs and propping my feet up on another. "Where it's safe." "I know," Rupert responded quietly, looking over his glasses at Willow. "And I would agree. But it is her choice... and we shouldn't deny her the opportunity to support her friends. She wants to be here, and she wants to help. Perhaps it will be of help to her, to be able to do something," he murmured softly, turning the pages of a Latin spellbook. "All right. I suppose," I mumbled, trying to find the Index in my volume. "But if she looks like she's getting shaky again, I'm taking her home." "Very well. I don't believe she'll need it, though. Willow is a very loyal person. And much stronger than she looks," Giles said gently, already absorbed in his research. I studied him for a second, then started scanning the Chronicle. Incredible amounts of information about vampires were contained in its pages, much of it going back to 1910, when another earthquake and vampire infestation had hit Sunnydale. Some of it was terrifying, some of it borderline unbelievable; all of it would have made best-selling horror fiction. //Except it's real, Nik. It's all real, it's here, and you have to find a clue, some clue about how to make it all go *away*....// I thumbed through pages and pages of entries, finding a few references that looked promising, but none of them were specific enough when I kept reading. //What kind of person writes all this stuff down, but doesn't have any notes on how to disperse the enemy? I can't believe they were all just depending on Slayers all these years!// Except it worked. Entry after entry detailed Slayer kills, their abilities, and how they executed legions of the undead and emerged unscathed. Most of the time. Much of the time. But... it was plain, very, very plain, even from a small smattering of reading, that Slayers did not die of natural causes. Someday, Buffy would be one of these entries. She would make a mistake, be a little too slow, suddenly get overwhelmed by numbers; and then she would merely be one of many. One of the former Slayers. A deceased Slayer. Rupert had to know this. I stared at the pages of the book unseeingly, turning that fact over in my mind. It was inevitable that Buffy would die in the line of duty. Even if we saved her tonight (which was becoming increasingly unlikely as time passed) there would come a day when all her luck and skill couldn't save her. How had Giles come to terms with that? How did he cope with the knowledge that someone he cared about---cared about a great deal, if I was any judge---was going to die a violent death, probably too young to have even had a life? Did he just hope he wouldn't be alive to see it, that she'd outlive him? Or was he that devoted to his principles, that he could accept that there would be another Slayer, someday? //Probably neither. He was willing to face the Master for her tonight. 'I defy prophecy.'// I closed my eyes for a second, overwhelmed. //Maybe he's just willing to go to any lengths to protect her, and that allows him to keep going.// And maybe that was the only way to face the Dark. To not surrender one inch, one hour, or one breath to it---and maybe gain back some ground that way. I opened my eyes and covertly studied Giles, who was still poring over a tome more frightening than the one I was stuck with. 'Snobby', as I'd originally perceived him to be, wouldn't have been willing to fight hard for anything. I'd thought he was a close-minded, cold, unfeeling, convention-bound elitist. After the Moloch incident, I'd known that he was nowhere near as conventional or unfeeling as he first appeared. But I still wouldn't have dreamed that he would be capable of conceiving of facing a vampire king alone. That kind of imagination and guts was pretty damn rare. //The only way that nickname fits him now is in describing his accent,// I thought ironically. //And let's face it, you *really* like the accent....// I pulled my wandering thoughts back onto the Chronicles, unwilling to take _that_ thought any further in our current situation. We spent the next twenty minutes like that, until I gave up and pushed the book aside. "There's nothing in there that'll help.... Rupert, have we got _any_ clue about what to do if the Master rises?" "Somewhat. There are ceremonies for closing portals, and killing demons-- although none of them are simple or painless," the Brit said in t ight voice. He rubbed his temples, then took off his glasses, squinting in the low light of the library book lamps. "Let's think about this... The vampires have been gathering, they know he is coming, they will be his army...." "You think they'll gather at the Hellmouth?" I asked, starting to get hopeful, wondering how we could track vampires. //Verrrry carefully, Jenny.// "The last time the Master tried to rise was during the Harvest," Willow piped up, joining us at the library table, looking much less shocky than she had twenty minutes before. //Points to Snobby... Rupert. No, Giles, damnit. He was right, she needed to have something to do. I'm glad he wasn't wrong.// "He sent a bunch of vampires to get him fresh blood," the teen continued. I glanced from Willow to Giles. "Where did that go down?" Giles looked stunned, and put his glasses back on as he answered me. "The Bronze---" Willow's eyes widened in the realization that had hit the Watcher and me at the same time: that the coffee bar would be full of potential victims tonight, despite the morning's tragedy. They hadn't had time to call it off... "The Prom!" "We have to warn them," the Brit said urgently, starting to rise. "No, we'll go. You have to concentrate on demon killing," I said firmly, pushing him back into his chair and grabbing my purse and car keys. How we were going to get them out of the Bronze was another question--- claim a bomb threat? Contagious virus? I turned to go, gesturing to Willow to join me, knowing I couldn't do it alone even if I wanted to. "My car's in the lot." "Stay close together, and for goodness sake be careful!" Giles called after us. "We will," Willow told him reassuringly as we left the library, sounding very serious and adult. It reminded me of Xander, and Buffy before him. That was the last quiet, sane second I had. Right there.... We got to the parking lot, Willow jittery, me nervous and hurrying, fumbling with my keys and praying that I could speed across town without running into any cops, when Willow spoke up. "What if they get to the Bronze before we do?" she asked anxiously, her voice high and worried. I looked up from trying to find my keys and came to a dead stop. "Don't need to worry about that." My voice sounded very even and cool to my own ears, just as my pulse started trip-hammering. "Why not?" Willow bumped into me, and I instinctively put my arm out to shield her. I could hear her quick intake of breath even as I said, "'Cause they're not going to the Bronze." Dozens of shambling, grotesque figures were coming out of the fog. I swallowed hard, finally seeing vampires for the first time: feral eyes, animalistic faces, and an air of.... evil. The fog seemed to bring a smell of decay with it, trying to seep into my clothes, forcing me to breathe through my mouth. I can't describe it; but I wanted to run. I wanted to *flee*, get the hell out of there... they weren't funny, they weren't unbelievable, they were gut-numbingly awful, and _wrong_. Things that shouldn't exist. Willow and I turned to run, and damnit, there were *more* of the ugly suckers, coming around behind us. "Why are they coming here?" I asked, trying to grasp how this could be happening without any warning at all--- "Not caring!" Willow's voice was rising in panic, and then we heard the screech of car tires. I whirled around to see Cordelia Chase's BMW pull up nearly on top of me. "Get in!" Cordelia shouted, and we rushed into the car, opening doors while she was talking to us, high and fast. Maybe she'd had her learner's permit revoked twice already, but I was never so glad for an offered ride in my life. "I was sitting where Kevin and I used to park, and all of a sudden these *things* are coming at me!" Willow had just slammed her door shut, when one of the "things" stuck its head down over the windshield. All three of us screamed in surprise and fright, and I gulped in big breaths of air, feeling my heart pound. "What do we do now?" I yelled at Willow, hoping she had some idea. Goddess knew, I didn't. Not one. I was too busy trying not to panic. "We have to get to the library!" Willow responded, still keeping her head better than I was. * Continued in part 5b Comments welcomed at vqrw76a@Prodigy.com Christina }|{ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: VQRW76A@prodigy.com (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (5b/6) Date: 15 Oct 1997 03:44:29, -0500 See part 1 for disclaimers. Comments appreciated at vqrw76a@prodigy.com. "Shadow of an Apocalypse" (5b/6) by Christina Kamnikar copyright 1997 Cordelia's eyes narrowed scarily in fury and concentration. "Library, great!" She floored the accelerator, veering around the parking lot and dislodging the hitchhiking monster on the roof--- then headed straight for the school doors, showing a fine disregard for school property that she usually reserved for the feelings of the nerdier students around her. Vampires scattered as she gained speed, not wanting to test their immortality, I supposed. "Of course, we generally walk there..." Willow observed in a quavery voice as I clutched onto the dashboard. The car smashed through two sets of doors, splintering wood and metal not slowing the BMW one whit, then zoomed down the hall to come to a squealing halt in front of the library doors. The three of us piled out rapidly, the monsters still at our heels as we slammed the doors to the library shut. Cordelia and Willow gave involuntary screams as the vampires started pushing at the doors---and, well, maybe I couldn't stop myself from yelling a little too. "What's happening!" Giles asked in alarm, getting to his feet as we tried to keep the monsters out. "Guess!" I screamed back at him over the growls of the attacking monsters and the screams of the other two. Giles rushed to push the Xerox machine in front of the door, while Willow used the "Quiet Please" sign to bash the fingers of the encroaching vampires. Cordelia and I pushed bookshelves across the doorway. The Brit stuck the sign through the handles of the door then yelled, "Why are they coming *here*?" I didn't respond, since I still didn't have an answer for that one. There had to be a reason, but whatever it was, we had bigger problems. "Hurry, hurry, hurry---" I muttered as we tried to strenghten the barricade. Some noise distracted the librarian, and he pointed toward the far wall. "They're coming in through the stacks!" "The bookshelves!" Willow shouted, and the two of us raced across the room to push the empty shelves in front of the back windows. I could see the faces of grinning, snarling vampires through the glass and shuddered, trying to get the barriers in place before any of the windows were broken. An aghast exclamation of "My office!" grabbed my attention for a second, and I turned to see Giles run into his private den to bar the windows in there. A loud <> against the front entrance distracted me, in time to see an arm snake through the window and grab Cordelia. "Somebody help!" she screamed, dark eyes wide with terror and panic as she pushed her whole weight against the rattling barrier. But Willow's and my shelves were shaking too, as the vampires punched through the windows and tried to dislodge our protection. Besides that, I'd realized with sinking dread that we were doomed. //We're gonna die. In horror movies, they wait the monsters out until sunrise---but that's hours and hours and hours away. We're gonna die.// Giles hadn't had time to find any spells; we wouldn't be able to find the Hellmouth and close it; the puny weapons that we had with us in the library weren't going to be enough to hold off an army... //Oh, Goddess. Help. Someone, help....// Neither of the girls had realized how bad our dilemma was yet. Cordelia was turning and actually sank her teeth into the arm holding her, eliciting a howl from the monster that didn't drown out her angry comment of "See how *you* like it!" Yelling, "This won't keep them out for long!", Willow pushed her body back against the bookshelves as I exerted all my strength trying to keep them in place. //We don't have a spell. Or a plan. Or any weapons, really. We're toast. But I can't tell her that---// I wanted to cry. I wanted a miracle. Willow let out a high, terrified shriek and then started to fall forward. A slimy gray tentacle, leading down into the main crack caused by the earthquake, was wrapped around her ankle---and it was pulling. I grabbed her, trying to help her keep her balance, and the thing yanked again, pulling us both to the floor with its unexpected strength. "Giles! GILES!" I yelled, trying to keep a grip on Willow--- With a sound like an exploding drum, the rest of the monster blossomed out of the crevace, shrieking and gurgling as it rose. Three-headed, huge, snaky, wormy, gray, disgusting---and laughing at us with a mouthful of sharp, pointy teeth. "The Hellmouth..." I heard Giles gasp. //Oh, that would be why....// flashed through my mind, but I didn't even bother following up the realization, digging my fingers into the girl's arms as she screamed and the demon tried to pull us closer. "Giles!!" I was screeching by now. Out of the corner of my vision I saw Giles grab an axe from the table and rush to help us. Willow couldn't stop screaming; she was twisting and struggling to get away from the awful thing as I grimly held onto her, desperately attempting to keep it from dragging her into the crevace. "GILES!" //God, Goddess, we're going to die---// Giles raised the axe and landed a harsh >thwack< on the monster's chortling head, his face contorted with the effort, then pulled it out and landed another blow as I tried to get Willow free. My throat was sore from screaming, Willow was whimpering and shrieking, and I concentrated on just hanging on, trying not to let go of her.... The Hell Hound whipped around, shooting its tentacles toward Giles, and threw him half-way across the room into one of the reading tables. He landed with enough force to splinter the table, and one head hovered menacingly above him as another gurgled inches from me and Willow. //Giles...// Sick and despairing, I felt the monster start to inch Willow closer across the carpet. //Is Giles okay, no, no, this isn't the way it's supposed to happen, I don't want to die, oh Goddess please NO// A shattering crash came from above as the skylight shattered, and a body fell down through it onto the ruined remains of the overturned table and impaled itself. It was a vampire, hideous, dressed in black leather; and it almost immediately began to dissolve as the vampire's continued screams tapered off, blood-red dust rising from the corpse to reveal the bone underneath. The Hound gave one last almighty howl and let go of Willow before sliding across the floor, disappearing back down into the crevace. Gasping, I looked up and saw Buffy looking back through the broken skylight. She smiled triumphantly downward for a second, then disappeared from view. "It's gone?" Willow whispered, and I nodded, unable to speak. "Yay...." "Yay," I echoed, hugging her, and she smiled in incandescent relief and hugged me back before carefully sitting up. I noticed that the sounds of the vampires trying to get in had stopped, and the shelves were no longer rattling. //Guess the Army of Darkness had better things to do than hang around here....// "Is everyone all right?" I turned over, propping my arms up on my elbows and resting my chin on my hands. Smiling giddily, I met Rupert's eyes with unalloyed relief. "Are you both unhurt?" he asked urgently, leaning against the stairway rail, his eyes darting from Willow to me and back. "We're fine, Giles. Are you okay? It looked like you landed pretty hard," Willow said, climbing to her feet and brushing dust off her tights. "Shaken, but no broken bones," Giles said, his own smile escaping. "That was the *ickiest* thing I have _ever_ seen," Cordelia declared from the doorway, where she was slumped bonelessly against the shelves and Xerox machine. "Where did it go? It's not coming back, is it?" "Back where it came from. And no, I wouldn't think it would be returning," Giles answered, adjusting his glasses. "Did you see, on the roof---" "Buffy? Yeah." I grinned wider, and Willow's eyes lit up. Everything about Giles had loosened for perhaps the first time that night. I knew how he felt; my own muscles felt like they'd uncoiled into Silly Putty when I saw the Slayer above me through the skylight. "She's okay? *Cool*!" Willow bounced down the stairs toward the door, and started helping Cordelia move the furniture. "Can I have hysterics now?" I asked Giles. "No. I get to have them first," he replied firmly, helping me to my feet. "Spoilsport." A few minutes later a bruised but very alive Buffy, her hair mussed, claw marks across her chest, entered the library. Xander and another, dark-haired older kid, maybe about nineteen or twenty, came in with her, both of them appearing unharmed. Cordelia was straightening up the last of the door barricade as they walked in, and Willow and I finished moving the shelves and joined Giles in the middle of the library, next to the corpse of the vampire who had to have been the Master. "The vampires?" Giles asked in concern, looking from Xander to Buffy, his eyes still not completely free of worry. Cordelia shrugged, looking mystified. "Gone. "The Master?" The stranger asked, obviously someone else who knew all about Slayers and vampires and prophecies. He was handsome in a clear-cut way, and I guessed that Xander had called him in to help when he went after Buffy. "Dead. The Hellmouth is closed," Giles answered him, then turned to the slender figure in white staring at the vampire's skeleton. "Buffy? Buffy?" He asked in concern. Buffy blinked, coming out of her hypnotized study of the Master, looking a little ragged around the edges. "Oh, sorry. It's just... been a really weird day," she said shakily, tears shimmering in her eyes. Whatever she had gone through had done more than just mess her hair up; but she seemed to be more exhausted than hurt, and her smile was unforced relief. "Yeah, Buffy died and everything," Xander commented nonchalantly. Now that the danger was past, I could tell that he was going to enjoy re-hashing the details, probably already forgetting whatever terrors he and Buffy and their friend had been through. "Wow. Harsh," Willow responded, impressed. Giles's voice was husky with emotion. "I should have known that wouldn't stop you," he said, sounding relieved, proud, happy, rueful and exhausted. Buffy smiled affectionately at him, no doubt hearing all the things he wasn't saying and seeing them in his barely-suppressed grin. "Well, what do we do now?" Cordelia asked, looking around at all of us expectantly. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I want to get out of this place. I don't like the library very much any more," Giles said gruffly, British understatement coming to the fore again. "Hey, I hear there's a dance at the Bronze," Xander pointed out. I stifled a chuckle, remembering that I was supposed to be chaperoning, and checked my watch. //8:30?? That nightmare felt like forever, and it's only 8:30? Guess Principal Snyder won't have any reason to yell at me, after all... // "Yeah!" Cordelia responded enthusiastically. "Buffy?" Willow said hopefully, her eyes dancing as she looked at her friend. The Slayer pursed her lips, considering. "Sure. We saved the world. I say we party." She looked down at her bedraggled self, then at the rest of us and added a little more tearily, "I mean, I got all pretty...." "What about him?" I asked, studying the remains of the Master with worry. The skeleton was still impaled on the broken table, a grisly reminder of what we'd just gone through. Buffy turned and studied the corpse in turn, her eyes darkening. "He's not going anywhere," she stated with eerie certainty. Then her lip curled into a classic teen-ager's sneer. "*Loser.*" We stood there a moment more, contemplating the dead vampire, then all of us turned and walked toward the door. I grabbed my purse from the library counter as we went by, and Giles told me, "I'm not dancing, that's understood..." "We'll see," I responded happily, too glad to be alive to tease him very hard. "What's with the car in the hall?" Xander asked bemusedly. "Oh, that was me, saving the day!" Cordelia said, sounding proud of herself, skipping over to her BMW and climbing in. "I'm *really* hungry..." Buffy mentioned as Giles held the door open for her. Willow was babbling something Angel about joining us at the dance, and he smiled crookedly, looking bemused. "By the way, I really like your dress," I heard Buffy's friend say as they went by, smiling at her crookedly. "Yeah, yeah, a big hit with everyone," the Slayer responded dryly, her eyes sparkling at him despite her words. "Who wants shotgun?" I asked, jingling my keys as we went out to the parking lot. Cordelia was backing her car out carefully, and I momentarily wondered how we were going to explain the destruction of the doors on Monday. //Well, I guess we can blame it on aftershocks? Or something...// Then again, total denial might be the smartest course. "Me!" Willow said, skipping ahead. "I'm not getting into a car with Cordelia," Xander said, raising his eyebrows and following Willow for a second, then pausing to look back at Buffy. The Slayer was already climbing into the front seat of Giles's junker, gathering her skirt together so it wouldn't drag. "I'll drive Angel and Buffy, and we'll meet you there," Giles said calmly, holding the rear door of his car for the other young man. Xander's shoulders hunched, and I nodded thoughtfully at Giles, then unlocked the car doors for my passengers. "...*really* glad you're okay, Xander," Willow was saying as I got in. "That was pretty smart, taking Angel along. But what did you mean when you said Buffy died?" "Oh, well, she was only dead a couple minutes. But I had to give her CPR, 'cause the Master had dropped her into this pool of water, so she'd gone into shock," Xander replied, cheering up at the chance to explain. "That's not something Angel could do," he added under his breath, and I glanced at him in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of bitterness in his expression. "Good for you," I responded, getting us out of the parking lot. "Thanks." Xander's smile turned wry, and Willow leaned around the seat to squeeze his hand, her face full of admiration and sympathy. //What a mess. Xander loves Buffy, Willow's got a crush on Xander, and... well, I suppose Buffy and her friend Angel are okay, at least.// I shook my head, and turned down Main toward the Bronze, feeling a million years older than I had at the beginning of the evening. //Some things are constant, no matter what the circumstances, I guess. I'm glad I'm not sixteen anymore, that's for sure.... And I'm *so* glad we're still alive, even if it does mean playing chaperone at the Spring Fling!// We could hear sounds of the celebration about a block away, and I started to smile, finally beginning to believe it was all over with. * But the night's still young. :>> Go to part 6 to see the Spring Fling. Comments to vqrw76a@prodigy.com Christina This story is posted on the web at : http://www.enteract.com/~perridox/SunS.html ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: VQRW76A@prodigy.com (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (3b/6) Date: 15 Oct 1997 03:42:36, -0500 Major TYK's to Dianne DeSha for helping me resend this! "Shadow of an Apocalypse" (3b/6) by Christina Kamnikar copyright 1997 "Slayer," I repeated in a flat voice, still trying to assimilate all the new information, trying to keep track of the players. "For each generation, there is one Slayer, a Chosen One---" "Like in the prophecy...." "Yes, as in the prophecy, who is born to stand againstthe Dark...." A very small, tired smile actually managed to break through the tension on his face, and his voice relaxed a little. "Buffy always says I enjoy explaining this too much," he murmured, turning back to the weapons locker. "Buffy... Summers?" The blonde, bouncy, smart-mouthed girl with the cynical eyes? She was sixteen. Willow's best friend. She couldn't be some supernatural dragonslayer. That wasn't possible. That was ridiculous. I'd heard him wrong. Right? "Mmmm." But Rupert was nodding, frowning at the contents of the locker again. "She's the Slayer." I blinked at him stupidly as he nattered on, blithely oblivious to my reaction. "And a rather gifted one, at that... The prophecy that she will face the Master tonight states that a vampire, known simply as the 'Anointed One' will deliver her into hell and into the Master's clutches... and she will die." His voice had turned bleak and harsh; I couldn't see his face, shadowed in the recesses of the cabinet. It suddenly hit me what all this feverish activity was about. Not just saving the world---which is noble, and great, and I'm not knocking it---but saving a kid we both knew from an ugly death. Like the kids in the A/V room that morning; like Dave and Fritz. I wanted to hug Giles at that moment, I liked him so intensely. Not for fighting for an intellectual principle, or the entire world, but for fighting for a girl he liked and cared about. I took a deep breath, and straightened a bit, a determination not to do any less than the Brit giving me focus. "Okay, so this Master guy tried to open the Hellmouth, but he got stuck in it. But now all the signs are reading that he'll get out, which opens the Hellmouth, which brings the demons, which ends the world," I concluded, fairly certain I had a handle on the basics. "Yes, that sums it up. Yes," Rupert answered distractedly, already absorbed in another sword he was testing. "The part that gets me is where Buffy is the vampire slayer. She's so *little*," I blurted out, trying to imagine petite Buffy playing Von Helsing with undead zombies, and failing totally. "Did you manage to get in touch with this Brother Luca chap?" Giles asked, ignoring my comment, focused on the weapons he was collecting again. If we were really facing the kind of Armageddon he was describing, he was probably smart. Although way, way optimistic, if he thought they'd really dent any demons.... "Mmmm. No." I grimaced. "As far as I can tell, no one can. He's disappeared. Did send out one last global, though. Short one." "What did it say?" "Isaiah 11:6, which I dutifully looked up---" I fumbled for the King James, but I didn't get a chance to show off. Because Rupert interrupted me before I could read him the quotation, obviously knowing it by heart already. "The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the kid, the calf, the lion and the fatling... and a little child shall lead them all." "Kind of warm and fuzzy for a message of doom," I commented doubtfully, although I was impressed by Rupert's memory. "That all depends on where he's leading them to," Rupert pointed out, continuing his preparations. "Aurelius wrote of the Anointed One that 'the Slayer will not know him, and he will lead her into Hell.'" "So Luca thinks the Anointed is a kid," I commented, fighting down nausea at the thought of a child-sized vampire. //I never _did_ like Anne Rice....// Snobby raised his eyebrows, still preoccupied with the weapons. "If the vampire Buffy killed was in fact not the Anointed One, it may well be." "Well then, we need to warn her." "I don't intend involving her at all," Rupert said with perfect detachment, calmly examining a ceremonial dagger on the table, then putting it back into its sheath. I blinked at him, lost again. "What do you mean?" "Buffy's not going to face the Master," Giles quietly answered, leaning against the table, looking me in the face for the first time in several minutes; composed and seeming almost tranquil in his decision. A chill ran up my spine at his expression. "I am." //What?!// A protest was rising to my lips, along with the urge to shake him until he got his sanity back, but I was forestalled by a voice interrupting our discussion and startling both of us. "No, you're not." Buffy Summers strolled forward from the library entrance; she must have been there for a while, but I'd been too caught up in deciphering the prophecy and worrying about Snobby's mental health to notice her. She looked lovely, her hair up in a tendriled ponytail, with a black leather jacket thrown over a beautiful gauzy white prom gown. //The Prom...// Surreality assaulted me again; the slender girl in front of me couldn't be any kind of Chosen One, despite what Rupert said. The air of fragile toughness about her was the same as that of any teenager, equal parts bravado and real reckless bravery. Her next words still didn't dispell my disbelief: "So, I'm looking for a kid, hunh? And he'll lead me to the Master?" Rupert straightened, his expression taking on a warning cast. "Buffy, I'm not going to send you out there to die." He had his hands on his hips, mimicking Buffy's stance. The similarities between them, the body language of long acquaintance, started to sink in then; and I think that's when I started being afraid, really afraid, and I began to believe what Giles had told me about Buffy and the prophecy. "You were right, I've waded about in those old books for so long, I've forgotten what the real world is like." He set his jaw, stiff upper lip very much in evidence. "It's time I found out." "You're still not going up against the Master," Buffy contradicted him. "I've made up my mind," Snobby said obstinately. "So've I," Buffy rejoined, not budging an inch. I swallowed, feeling left behind, left out, on the wrong page of the music; this was about more than the end of the world, I could see that. They'd discussed this before, disagreed about what to do, or what was going to happen---and now Rupert was volunteering to take her place. And Buffy wasn't willing to let him do that, when most kids would be whimpering with relief. Out of affection, or a sense of responsibility, or sheer pigheadedness; and I understood how Snobby could care about this kid enough to want to save her for her own sake. "I made up mine first!" Rupert retorted, sounding like a recalcitrant six-year-old. "I'm older and wiser than you, and you will just do what you're told for once!... All right?" His outrage lost a lot of its strength on that last plea; I clenched my own jaw to keep myself from interrupting. What was the right thing to do? //Stop this, we can't just go along with this kind of destiny---// But I didn't like Rupert's solution any better.... Buffy gave a tiny headshake, smiling at Rupert with compassion, and maybe a little bit of pity, and seeming in that instant much older than sixteen. "That's not how it goes. _I'm_ the Slayer." "I don't care what the books say. I defy prophecy, and I am going. There's nothing you can say will change my mind," Rupert stated, his outward calm doing nothing to mask the feeling behind his assertion. "I know." There was total acceptance and understanding in those two words; and then tiny Buffy reached up nearly a foot and landed a right cross Holyfield would have paid for <> on Giles' jaw. The punch practically lifted him off his feet, and I could just about see cartoon birds circling his head as Snobby toppled over. I froze in shock for a second, reflexively thinking //a-student-just-hit-a-teacher!// before I could stop it, then I ran over to where Rupert was lying and lifted his head into my lap, hoping he hadn't cracked his head on the floor as he landed. When I looked up, Buffy was fastening a large cross that had lain on the table around her neck, and then she picked up the crossbow. I was still in shock, I think, still playing catch-up, worried about Snobby, scrambling to figure out what was going to happen next.... But I didn't doubt that Buffy was the Slayer any more. "When he wakes up tell him..." Buffy paused diffidently, shrugging and looking rueful. "I don't know. Think of something cool, tell him I said it." "If you face the Master, you'll die," I said. It was finally sinking in. Lose-lose situation; if the prophecy was fulfilled, the Master would get free, Buffy would die, and there was nothing I could do. If I tried to stop her, she'd probably land a haymaker on *my* jaw. "Maybe." Buffy's voice thinned, and her expression became more remote as she loaded the crossbow, then turned away from me. "Maybe I'll take him with me." I watched her go, feeling helpless, knowing how much it would hurt Giles when he woke up and realized she was gone, that he hadn't been able to stop her. I turned back to him, checking for extra bumps and bruises, then went to get the First Aid kit in his office, feeling desolate and shaky. All this time, they'd been fighting a war I didn't even know about; and now, it seemed, I was just in time to join up for the last engagement. I stared down at Rupert again, furious with him, admiring him, and aching for what was to come. "You should have told me sooner," I whispered. "I would have helped...." Too late for that, though. I just prayed it wasn't too late to make a difference this one last time. * Christina vqrw76a@Prodigy.com }|{ Comments? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: perridox@enteract.com (Perri Smith) Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (8/8) Date: 15 Oct 1997 19:09:47 -0500 (CDT) See disclaimer in part 1. The Stranger (Part 8) by Perri Smith Copyright 1997 ***** Time passed. The police came in due course, after someone living near the Bronze phoned in the reports of gunshots, but the group managed to avoid them, slipping out through the fire exit and stumbling back to the hospital. Buffy stayed there for what was left of the night, falling almost instantly into a heavy sleep in the chair at her mother's side. Giles drove Willow and Xander the few short blocks to their houses, all of them too tired to contemplate the walk, then presumably went back to the hospital to look after Buffy. Willow fielded her parents' questions as she came in, managed to mumble out explanations and assurances that contented them, then fell face first onto her bed and slept dreamlessly. Rumors flew the next day at school, of gang shootouts and drug deals gone bad, despite the fact that no bodies had been found at the Bronze. Only a pile of dust and a single gun. Willow plowed her way through her classes, fell asleep sitting up only once, and studiously avoided Ms. Calendar, who saw way too much. A history test -- the one Buffy had found a way out of after all -- passed in a blur, then it was back to the hospital, where Buffy's mom was sitting up, talking and smiling and fussing about the gallery and Buffy missing school. She and the doctors finally shooed them all out, with assurances that Buffy's mom could go home the next day, and Willow and Xander escorted Buffy home. That night, as Willow listened soberly and more than a little tearfully, Buffy told her about the gypsy curse that Angel carried, about what Darla had been to him, and what he'd really done when he'd killed her. "So, she was like, his girlfriend?" Buffy sighed and shrugged, leaning back against her pillows wearily. There were still circles under her eyes that no amount of sleep could erase. "Girlfriend, mother, sister... I'm not sure. I think she was pretty much everything, all the time he was, um.... like the rest of them." Willow smiled understandingly from where she was curled up at the foot of Buffy's bed. Her parents had been all in favor of a sleepover, as had Giles -- no one thought Buffy should be staying home alone. Xander's offer to join them for added security, however, had been roundly rejected. "So he really isn't one of them anymore, is he?" Willow said, thinking of Angel. "He's a good guy." Buffy nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess he is. It's still... weird, though. He's a vampire. I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that." "Join the club," Willow muttered ruefully. Buffy grinned unexpectedly, the first time she'd smiled in days. "I don't think *Giles* is ever going to get used to it; he just can't deal with the concept of a vampire actually *helping* the Slayer, much less saving her life." "He'll come around," Willow predicted with more confidence than she felt. "So will Xander." Buffy's smile faded. "If they get the chance." Willow bit her lip and studied the bedspread intently. Two days, and it was as if Angel had vanished when he'd left the Bronze. No lurking in corners, no warnings, no nothing. They didn't even know if he was all right, if he'd recovered from what Darla had done to him. And Willow wanted to know almost as badly as Buffy did. "Maybe he'll be at the Bronze tomorrow night," she offered hesitantly. "He probably doesn't want to come here since you threw him out the window and all." Buffy winced. "God, I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I tried to kill him. He probably saved my mom's life and I almost...." "But you didn't." Willow cut her off firmly, having heard this particular guilty gush three times in the last hour. "And he didn't exactly make it easy for you to figure out what happened." "But still...." Buffy stared out the window. "Willow, he killed her for me. She said he loves me, and then he killed her for me. What do I... What can I say to him after that?" "I don't know," Willow admitted, way out of her league. She'd take her nice, simple unrequited crush over this any day. "I wish I could help." "You are helping," Buffy said quietly. They sat in an awkward silence, then Willow cleared her throat. "Anyway, you missed the subtle hint, which meant, you *are* coming to the Bronze with us tomorrow night, aren't you?" "I don't know.... It'll be Mom's first night home. I should stay with her." Willow gave her a Look. "Buffy, she kicked you out of the hospital today because you were driving her crazy. I don't think she'll mind if you go. She'll probably push you out the door." Buffy grinned reluctantly. "You're right, she will." "So you'll go?" Willow persisted, leaning forward. "All right, all right!" Buffy started laughing. "You are really stubborn, you know that?" Willow shrugged and grinned. "I've been taking lessons from the best." Buffy made a face at her, then swatted her with a pillow. Willow instantly retaliated, and all seriousness was utterly forgotten. ***** The Bronze was rocking, relieved teenagers flocking the dance floor and trying to make up for the four days of musical deprivation. The trio stood in the entrance for a long minute, comparing the lively, cheerful place to the grim emptiness of only a couple days before. This way was *much* better, Willow decided. "Ah, the Post-Fumigation Party," Xander breathed happily, apparently in perfect agreement with Willow's thoughts. "Okay, so what's the difference between this and the Pre-Fumigation Party?" Buffy asked with amusement. "Much hardier cockroaches," Xander shot back. Buffy rolled her eyes, apparently realizing she'd walked into a *very* old Sunnydale joke. She still seemed amused, though; a rousing pillow fight followed by a full night's sleep in an actual bed had done wonders for her appearance and her attitude. She looked almost normal, if still a bit distant. "So, no word from Angel?" Willow asked for no reason. Then she caught a glimpse of the reason, leaning against the far wall, watching the three of them with eyes so intense Willow could almost feel them. Correction, watching Buffy. She looked away quickly, not wanting to blow his cover if he didn't want to be seen. They owed him that much, at least. "Nah," Buffy said, making a small face and trying to pretend it didn't matter. She completely blew the effect by wistfully adding, "It's weird though. In a way, I feel like he's still watching me." The hell with Angel's cover. "Well, in a way he sort of is," Willow gave him away without another thought. "In the way that, he's right over there." Buffy followed Willow's gesture and froze as her eyes locked with Angel's. In a second, everyone else in the room disappeared for both the Slayer and the vampire. Willow watched with interest and the slightest touch of envy as Buffy walked to meet Angel on the dance floor, both moving as if they were pulled together by an invisible string. If Xander had been even a little less intent on being cool and mature, he'd have been pouting. "I don't need to watch, because I'm not threatened," he declared to no one in particular, seating himself with his back very deliberately to the dance floor. "I'm just gonna look this way." Willow smiled and seated herself opposite him, adjusting herself until she had the best possible view. There was no way she was going to miss this -- now, if only she could lip read. Not that it mattered much; Buffy and Angel's faces were speaking volumes. Angel actually smiled once and Willow grinned in response -- he had a nice smile. Then, slowly and inevitably, Angel leaned forward to kiss Buffy, and Buffy wrapped herself in his embrace, oblivious to the crowds around them. Willow sighed with vicarious happiness. "What's going on?" Xander asked suspiciously, eyeing her. "Nothing," Willow lied, straight-faced. Xander smiled unconvincingly. "Well, as long as they're not kissing." It was probably best not to answer that, so Willow didn't. The couple on the dance floor moved apart slowly and reluctantly (to Willow's admittedly biased eyes); with only a few more words, Buffy backed away from Angel, her face sober. He stared after her as she left the dance floor, and, like two nights before, only Willow saw what was in his eyes. But she could only watch for a second before it felt like an invasion of privacy, and when she looked back, he was gone. Xander popped to his feet as soon as Buffy was within speaking range, opening his mouth to say something possibly witty, and almost certainly insulting towards Angel. But the look on her face stopped him before he could get the words out. Buffy was smiling a little, sadly, as if she'd just lost something really valuable, and had already resigned herself to never getting it back. Her eyes were very calm and steady, like they belonged to an entirely different person -- someone much older than sixteen. Xander hesitated, then, instead of saying anything, awkwardly put his arm around Buffy in a silent gesture of support; she leaned her head against his shoulder. Willow watched in helpless silence. "Are... are you okay?" she asked finally. "Sure," Buffy answered quietly and unconvincingly, straightening. Xander took the hint and let his arm fall away, but stayed close to her. Willow couldn't bring herself to mind. "We both... I know it would never work. It's just... one of those things." She sighed, fingering the cross at her throat, then grinned a little crookedly, and was suddenly sixteen again. Suddenly Buffy again. "Sometimes fate just sucks dead bunnies through a straw, you know?" Willow returned the grin with sympathy and relief. "I hear you," she agreed, rolling her eyes towards Xander. He, of course, was oblivious, all of his attention on Buffy, but Buffy got it and her smile widened a little. "Look, guys, I'm not really up for partying tonight. Would you mind if we bailed?" "Oh, hey, anywhere you want to go," Xander assured her instantly. "I'll... um, *we'll* walk you home." "Actually, I was kind of thinking more along the lines of Ben & Jerry's," Buffy admitted sheepishly. "I feel the need for a *major* chocolate binge." "Ice cream it is, then." Xander slung his arm around her shoulders again, but put the other around Willow this time, slipping into his adorable 'protective' mode. Willow was willing to settle for that; she put her arm around his waist, on top of Buffy's, and snuggled in. "And will it be Chunky Monkey for the ladies, or Triple Brownie Overload?" "Chunky Monkey," Willow answered promptly, at the same time that Buffy said, "Triple Brownie." They were still debating the point as they left the Bronze and headed down the street towards the ice cream bar, talking at the top of their lungs as if they could drive the night away by sheer volume. Willow lagged a few steps behind the other two, watching the shadows out of the corner of her eye. She thought she saw one of them move, but didn't worry about it; she was pretty sure she knew who was lurking there. On impulse, she called out softly, "Good night, Angel." There was no answer, but then, she hadn't expected one. So she just grinned and kept walking. She wasn't afraid of the shadows anymore; not as long as Angel was one of them. Finis Perri I *am* the Buffy Evangalist! NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ "I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: perridox@enteract.com (Perri Smith) Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (7/8) Date: 15 Oct 1997 19:09:27 -0500 (CDT) See disclaimer in part 1. The Stranger (Part 7) by Perri Smith Copyright 1997 ***** They made it as far as the hospital room before Willow stopped, hearing Giles's voice from inside. He sounded upset, and looked even more so when he came striding out of the room, already pulling his coat on. "We have a problem," he announced, as the pair fell in step beside him. "Tell us something we didn't know," Xander said. Willow just looked seriously up at Giles, past the point of shock. "What happened now?" "I discovered who attacked Buffy's mother," Giles told them as they hurried past the nurses' station and onto the elevator. "And it wasn't Angel." "It wasn't?" Willow and Xander chorused in ragged, surprised unison. "Then... who was it?" Willow asked. "Someone called Darla, a vampire who presented herself as one of Buffy's friends." Giles punched impatiently at the elevator button, as if that would make it go faster. "She tricked Buffy's mother into inviting her inside, and then... Damn! I should have seen this coming, I should have taken precautions--" "What precautions?" Willow asked sensibly, as the elevator doors opened at last. Giles didn't bother to make sure they were following, or to head for his car, just took off down the street at something close to a run. Xander and Willow followed, Willow still arguing, "You didn't know someone would... Oh, no." Her eyes went wide as the implications hit. "Then Angel *isn't* the bad guy, he *didn't* hurt her mom, but Buffy's going to try to kill him anyway! We have to stop her!" "We do?" Xander blinked at her as well as he could while stumbling at a near run down a pitch-black street. "I mean, we don't know Angel didn't--" "Xander!" "All right, all right!" Xander backed down. "Where are we going?" "The Bronze," Giles told them over his shoulder without slowing. They didn't have any time to spare. Buffy had been gone for almost an hour, more than enough time to.... Willow forced the thought away and raced after Giles as he pushed his way through the underbrush, using a shortcut Willow hadn't even known existed. "We're near the Bronze," she panted, recognizing the buldings through the trees. "What now?" "We keep looking for her." "I've got a question," Xander spoke up from the rear. "What if we find her, and she's fighting Angel and some of his friends. What the heck are we gonna do about it?" Good question. A really good question. But not one Willow really wanted to hear. They'd do *something*, that was all that mattered. The Bronze was dark and deserted when they broke out of the trees and onto the parking lot. The fumigation hadn't been finished yet, so there were no lights, no music. It looked creepy as sin, even to someone who *wasn't* busy trying not to picture what was probably happening inside. Giles tried the side doors, which were locked, of course. No matter how much time they spent inside, never *once* had they been able to get into the Bronze when it was really important. There was a certain amount of irony in that, but Willow wasn't in any condition to appreciate it. "Xander, try the front," Giles ordered sharply, throwing his weight against the side door again. "Willow, the upper level, where Buffy got in during the Harvest." "Right." They both started to split off towards their assignments, before a sudden, sharp *crack*, instantly recognizable to anyone who'd ever seen NYPD Blue, stopped them in their tracks. "Did you just hear...?" Xander asked nervously. Yes, they had. Giles had gone from upset to downright grim and Xander looked like he'd be panicking if it wouldn't ruin his 'cool' image. Willow swarmed up the fire escape faster than she'd known she could move, and found the fire door standing open, the lock broken. Buffy had been through here, all right. She gestured frantically to the other two, then ducked through the door, crouching low to stay out of sight. Because they weren't alone. Voices echoed through the club eerily, bouncing off the concrete walls. A woman's voice, smug, irritating, familiar. The twang of a crossbow and Willow held her breath as she looked over the railing, hoping to see a pile of dust. Instead, she saw a blonde vampire, her face fright masked and a gun in each hand, looking down at a crossbow bolt that stuck out of her stomach. Buffy was hastily reloading and, in the shadows behind them both, Angel dragged himself up from the floor, clutching another bolt lodged in the wall beside him, his face a mask of pain. "Close," the blonde vampire said smugly. "But no heart." She dragged the bolt out of her stomach with a grunt, then threw it away casually and lifted her guns again. She fired, the shots echoing like cannon. "We need to distract her," Xander said urgently. "Fast." Willow didn't stop to think how dumb it was, or how unprotected they were. She filled her lungs and shouted with all her might, "Buffy, it wasn't Angel who attacked your mom, it was Darla!" It distracted the vampire, all right. Darla turned and fired up at their balcony. Xander and Willow bellyflopped as Giles wormed his way across the floor to one of the Bronze's battered lightboards. Beneath them, Darla jumped up on top of a pool table, and began strolling along it, confidently, unstoppably stalking the Slayer who hid at the other end. A little too confidently, as it turned out. Buffy jumped up from her hiding place and jerked the heavy table forward as if it weighed nothing. Darla lost her balance and fell backwards as Buffy shoved the table away from her as hard as she could, nearly dumping herself on the floor in the process. Flat on her back on the moving table, Darla fired wildly from both guns, keeping the Slayer down. Buffy wound up behind the bar and the dubious protection of the counters and cabinets. The table stopped and Darla regained her composure, swinging her feet to the ground and walking forward towards Buffy, firing carelessly, as if she didn't care who or what she hit. Probably, she didn't. Willow recognized her now, the blond vampire who had kidnapped Jesse, who had tried to kill Giles in the Bronze what seemed like a lifetime ago. Willow had stopped her that second time, but there was no holy water, no weapons now. Nothing to do but watch as the bullets pounding into the bar, shattering glass all around Buffy's hiding place. She tried not to think of how that first encounter with Darla had ended, of Jesse turned into one of the monsters they'd been fighting. Of Jesse lying in a pile of ash.... A sudden slam beside her startled Willow out of her grim thoughts. Giles had lost patience with the lightboard and begun pounding it into the table and, where care hadn't worked, brute force did. The lights flickered, then began to strobe. As Darla blinked in confusion, Buffy raced for better cover. Darla adjusted quickly, filtering out the distractions to focus in on her target. With sinking dread, Willow realized the vampire was done with playing games. "Come on, Buffy," Darla sneered. "Take it like a man." Xander's eyes were focused on Buffy, as if he could will the bullets to bounce off of her. Giles was still fussing with the lightboard, trying to make it produce something useful. Buffy was hidden, and Darla had her back turned. So Willow was the only one to see the tall form separate himself from the shadows, the crossbow bolt he'd used to pull himself to his feet now clutched in his hand. And she was the only one to see him lift his arm to bury the bolt in Darla's unprotected back, straight into her heart. The vampire staggered under the force of the blow. Bending under whatever it was vampires felt before they died, she turned, staring up at Angel with betrayed, disbelieving eyes. For a moment, she looked almost human. "Angel?" she whispered. It was all she could say before she fell, her body collapsing to dust before she reached the boards. One gun clattered to rest on the floor; nothing else remained. Everything seemed to have stopped moving, only the lights strobing in their relentless rhythm. Willow had stopped breathing; she could only see Angel's face, caught half in shadow, half in light. Buffy stepped out from her cover, staring at Angel with wide, amazed eyes. He looked back at her, his face blank and his eyes eloquent, although Willow had no idea what he was saying. Somehow, she thought Buffy would know. Slowly, Angel turned and walked back into the darkness, staggering a little as he went, leaving the four mortals to stare after him. Perri I *am* the Buffy Evangalist! NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ "I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Lisa Rose Subject: BUFFYFIC: 50 Ways to Bleed Your Lover Date: 17 Oct 1997 13:06:28 -0700 50 WAYS TO BLEED YOUR LOVER (To the tune of "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" by Paul Simon) Your problem is simply too much soul, sweet Darla said The answer will come as I give neck instead of head I'd like to help you on your way to being dead There must be fifty ways to bleed you, lover She said it's really not the worst of worlds, I guess For with strength and life eternal I'll erotically you bless Now let's repeat the act, though it may create a mess 'Cause I have fifty ways to bleed my lovers Fifty ways to bleed my lovers Chorus: I'll sip on your wrist, Chris Bite on your neck, Rex Drink from your vein, Wayne Until you're like me I'll siphon your heart, Bart It's all part of my dark art Just taste of my blood, Judd And let your soul flee She said there will be several moments of raw pain But it's good because it helps us all to feel alive again You'll soon appreciate that, Now listen as I explain all the fifty ways... She said the time has come to drink on this tonight And I believe in the morning you'll begin to fear the light Then she sucked me, and I shivered 'cause she probably was right There must be fifty ways to bleed your lover Fifty ways to bleed your lover Chorus (Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose; title inspired by Jim) http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: annanara@juno.com (Annanara a.k.a Anna) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Graveside Goodbye Date: 17 Oct 1997 16:36:58 EDT Graveside Goodbye by Annanara Disclaimer: I don't own any of the BtVS chracter, Joss Whedon and the WB do. The lyrics are from A Celtic Tale: The Legend of Deirdre by Michael and Jeff Danna. Xander stood among the many stones that made up the forest-like atmosphere of the Sunnydale Cemetery. He gazed longingly at the darkening sky which had once been a beautiful blue earlier. The day had been obscenely clear, crisp, and breezy with a hint of Fall coolness in the air. But now...now the sun was setting, covering the sky in a blood red. She had asked that it be done after sunset. She knew asking such would be dangerous, but it was for the benefit of one member of their group. One who couldn't be here till the sun was safely below the horizon. She had wanted him to be present, she wanted them -all- to be present, for she knew that we'd need each other now more than ever. But, she was the person he needed more than ever. She was always what he needed and now she was gone. She was his heart, his soul, his home, and now she was gone forever. She would never be returning, she would never surprise him when he wasn't paying attention, and she would never know exactly how much she meant to him. In skies of frozen snow Where winds of sadness roam Red's sun burning low You were my home Where I would go The small group huddled closer as the sun sank below the horizon. He would never see another sunset with her again. Never hold her close. Never wrestle with her or tackle her on a sunny weekend with the rest of her friends. Xander watched the last tendrils of light retreat, the immaculate green grass becoming dark. It reflected the feelings in his heart. It all seemed so unreal, so unnatural. A dark, horrible mistake. A nightmare come true. But the longer he stared at the tombstone before him, he knew it was no dream. In green fields Now unknown Your name upon The standing stone Angel arrived a few moments later, dressed in black as always. He had with him a yellow rose. The rose of friendship. He laid it carefully upon the fresh grave. She had been buried earlier in the day, but in an unofficial will she had requested that we have this private gathering. She was always thinking of others, why couldn't she have thought about herself for just one moment? If she had, he was sure that she'd possibly still be around today. If only she hadn't tried to help him. If only he hadn't gotten careless for one moment... Love invites One last call When death from life Begins to fall One of the vampires had been slowly backing him into a corner. It held a stake clutched in it's hand, ready to bring it down on him. He started reaching out blindly for things to throw at it. She had seen his trouble and rushed over to help him. He stumbled backwards, turning his back to the vampire for one second. The vampire raised it's arm and brought the stake down, but before it hit him, she pushed him out of the way screaming his name. The stake dropped right down through her chest. He never did find out who staked the vampire, but it turned to ashes as he held her in his arm. All he could think was that his love was dying. He smoothed back her hair, the blood on his hands blending into her hair easily. Rocking her gently, he was desperate to believe that she wasn't really dying, that she'd miraculously heal before his eyes. He knew it wasn't going to happen, but all he could do was hope. They all knew there was no way she would survive long enough for help. And she knew best of all. She had put a bloody finger up to his lips, shushing him. Giving him the sweetest and saddest smile he had ever seen, she whispered, "I love you, Xander." He replied that he loved her and her smile was so bright it was hard to believe she was dying. Her eyes slowly fluttered, then shut for the final time. He felt her body relax and could have sworn he felt a cold rush as her spirit left. He screamed in pain and outrage. She was truly gone. He continued to rock her body in his lap, gazing upon the gentle face of his love. Her face had a faint smile as if she had died happily. If it weren't for the blood and the stake in her tiny body, it looked as if she had simply fallen asleep. She should be asleep, he had thought. She should be in bed, far away from all this. She shouldn't have risked her life...and lost. The streams no longer go To tides of distant seas No love can grow old Without memories Your arms my home Where I would sleep The tears came again, falling unashamed as he looked upon her tombstone. He fell to his knees before the grave and cried. How can I live without you? he silently cried. I don't want to be without you! I need someone to show me how to do my math, to prod me to do my work, to be there when nobody else is. I needed you to stay, so I could sort out my feelings about you. To know if there could have been something more... Tears Now unfold How can I now Alone grow old Dusty Stars Shed their lights When death from life Slips silently to the night The night became darker and the danger increased. The moon lit up the graveyard, shining it's light upon such a dark occasion. As he cried, Buffy came up behind him, putting a comforting arm around him. Giles knelt on his other side, Ms. Calendar standing behind him. Cordelia even rested a hand on his shoulders, as did Angel. Eventually everyone was crying in a group hug, supporting each other. They were all painfully aware of the one person who should be with them and wasn't. That loss made them all hold on to each other that much tighter. The group slowly dispersed, Buffy and Angel staying behind to make sure Xander got home safely. They left Xander at the grave and walked a discreet distance away, giving him a private moment. Xander studied the marble tombstone one last time before leaving; his hand following the carved letters of her name. The light of the moon made it so easy to see the inscription... Willow Ann Rosenberg November 26, 1980 - October 15, 1997 Beloved Daughter and Friend The End Yes, I know it's sad, but I couldn't help myself. I was listening to the song and this story just came to mind. Let me know what you thought! Annanara GASPer, Keeper of Giles' Skip "That went well. I think." --Giles, SAR Keeper of Willow's Box of Raisins ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Jesse Jou Subject: BUFFYFIC: PARODY LYRIC: Unnatural Demon Date: 17 Oct 1997 17:23:10 -0400 I've reconceived one of the final scenes of Prophecy Girl. It's almost like a music video now. The song is sung to the tune of Carole King's "Natural Woman," which is most often played very freely rhythmically to allow vocal embellishment, hence the imperfect scansion. JJ Master: "You? You're dead!" Buffy: "I may be dead, but at least I'm pretty." Master: "You were to have died; it was written!" Buffy: "What can I say? I flunked the written." (music starts, as they begin to fight) Looking for A little evening's pain, I used to be much inspired. And when I knew, I'd never see the light of day 'Cuz it'd make me feel on fire. Before the day I bit you. Unlife was no surprise, But your blood was the key to my recent rise. Cuz you set me free, You set me free You set me free I'm Unnatural Demon. Ohh, Buffy, what you do to me. (what you do to me) You let me out of a sunken vault (a sunken vault) And I'm just taunting thee (taunting thee) Hey, what's with that Xena-like somersault? Chorus (improvising as the music fades out) Unnatural Demon You set me free. You know, you set me free! Cuz you set me free; I'm Unnatural Demon. Unnatural Demon. (music ends) Buffy: "You're that amped about Hell? Why don't you go there?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: sah Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN: List rules Date: 20 Oct 1997 11:53:16 -0500 Welcome! This list is for fiction related to "Buffy The Vampire Slayer," both the TV series and the movie. To ensure that we all get to enjoy as much fiction as possible, please adhere to the following guidelines, and please save them for future reference. 1. Fiction should have Buffy characters in it and clearly be related to Buffy. Crossovers are great, and expected, but general vampire/monster stories that aren't in the Buffy universe and don't use Buffy characters belong somewhere else. 2. Discussion of posted fiction is permitted onlist. Please put "DISCUSS" in your subject line. Requests for missing story parts should go directly to the author, and not be posted to the list. Discussion that is not related directly to the fiction should go over to the general Buffy list. Discussion of fiction is expected to follow common netiquette guidelines and use PG-13 language. 3. No advertising of items or services, Buffy related or not, and no posting of non-story items such as .gifs, sound files, etc.. No attached files of kind-- if your mailer makes your fiction into attached files, you need to find another way to get it to the list. 4. 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If you have a question about something's suitability for posting, feel free to ask one of the listowners. Sending sexually explicit material will get you immediately and permanently unsubscribed. No exceptions. 6. By subscribing and/or posting to this list, you acknowledge that Buffy the Vampire slayer and all characters associated with either the televised series or the motion picture were created by Josh Whedon and are owned by Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui Productions, Sandollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox. All stories posted to this list are for entertainment purposes only, are not sold for profit of any kind, and are not intended to infringe on any copyrights. 7. 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PLEASE NOTE: not following any or all of these rules will get you the following: **First offense: offender is unsubscribed for one week. **Second offense: offender is unsubscribed to the Buffyfic list for a minimum of three months. **If the offender returns and does it again, they're offlist permanently. As noted above, posting sexually explicit material is the exception -- you go straight to permanent unsubbing. Again, welcome! If you have any questions about these rules, please contact either one of us offlist. If you have subscription problems or questions, the fastest way to get help is to e-mail one of us at the addresses below, at the kirby@xmission.com addy which is the "official" e-mail owner of the list. Jill Kirby (jtkirby@mcs.com) & Sharon Himmanen (romana@mindspring.com) Listowners, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fiction List buffyfic@xmission.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Lisa Rose Subject: BUFFYFIC: 5 New "Little Buffy" Movies! Date: 20 Oct 1997 13:38:57 -0700 Five new "Little Buffy" Movie descriptions have just been added to the "movie" section under "Little Buffy's Recreation" at the Little Buffy Site: http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html ------------------- 6. BUFFY AND THE BEAST - A wild and happy-go-lucky vampire is cursed by bitter gypsies with the return of his guilt-ridden human soul. Now he spends all his days brooding in a lonely apartment. Only the freely given love of a beautiful young woman (the town's slayer) can lift the curse and return him to his former crazy and carefree ways. At which point she'll have to kill him.... 7. FROM HERE TO FRATERNITY - Young Alex Harris (Frank Sinatra), a poor kid from the wrong end of town, is dying to belong to the local college's elite fraternity, Kamma Feeda Kobra. Nothing would impress his critical father more. After an exotic and seductive drag routine for the frat brothers during pledge week, he finally gets his coveted invitation. His first pledge task, however, is to feed the fraternity's friendly reptilian mascot ('Mackie') it's "special diet" down in its basement home. Soon, Alex is conflicted. Sure, the free beer and sorority girls are great, but are they really worth his mortal soul? It's a tough call! Maybe some peer counseling is in order here? 8. 101 HYENAS - Sunnydale High's militant Vegetarian Club (just over a hundred strong) decides to protest at the City Zoo because live racehorses (just past their prime) are being fed to the zoo's mysterious new hyenas. An unfortunate scuffle between demonstrators and zoo security guards at the edge of the hyena pit, however, triggers a tragic transpossession from the hyenas to the club members. In a cruel twist of irony, these former animal lovers and meat-refusers are now reduced to gorging themselves on stolen hotdogs, terrifed school mascots, and ultimately, their own stunned school principal (whose bitter aftertaste no amount of carrot juice will ever wash away!). 9. VAMPIRE RECORDS - The teen salesclerk behind the cash register sports a deathly pallor and crimson lips. Just another goth-kid working for minimum wage? Guess again! The bloodsuckers who operate this CD outlet are out to drain their customers of more than just their hard-earned entertainment dollars! Why hasn't the fact that the joint has no windows to the outside nor security mirrors tipped anyone off yet? Sure, they have great selection and are open till midnight. But God help any shoppers left in the store at closing time! 10. SIXTEEN BLOWTORCHES - Samantha (Molly Ringwald) is a young slayer whose duty has destroyed her social life to the point that she is spending her sixteenth birthday all by herself. As she prepares to blow out the candles on her cake, her cute brooding vampire friend, Jakelus (Michael Schoeffling), bursts in to warn her that sixteen vicious vampires are coming to "crash" her little party. Rest assured, they'll want to consume a bit more than cake! As the vamps smash through her picture window, Samantha thinks quickly and whips out a can of hairspray from her purse, spraying it over the burning candles to create a searing blastfurnace of birthday incineration. And Voila! Sixteen crispy vamp-kabobs for party latecomers Xander "The Geek" Harris (Anthony Michael Hall) and little sister Sara (Alyson Hannigan) to enjoy! At least the day wasn't a *total* disaster. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Lisa Rose Subject: BUFFYFIC: 1 More "Little Buffy" Movie Description Date: 20 Oct 1997 22:25:28 -0700 11. DESPERATELY SEEKING DARLA - Angelus the Vampire has been released from that pesky gypsy curse that restored his human soul by the liberating love of a beautiful young slayer whom he suckered into falling for him. Now with the curse and the slayer out of the way, he frantically searches for his old partner in crime, his former supernatural squeeze, Darla, the "Belle of Budapest." His excitement grows as he races to the underground, eager to re-consummate their relationship, already hearing her deadly dulcet tones again in his mind. Then he halts in horror, remembering to his dismay that he *killed* her. Doh! (title suggested by Jim) ---------------------- Lisa http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Jesse Jou Subject: BUFFYFIC: Kudos on the movies. I'm LOL Date: 21 Oct 1997 16:52:10 -0400 Lisa- I don't know if I've told you how much I loved the movie descriptions yet, but I do. You truly have a gift for Buffy promotion. You should be pitching these to some heartless Hollywood exec, eh? I did inspire me to think of these, though: Maiming Amy Kevin Smith directs in this last of his "Sunnydale Trilogy" movies. Holden (Nicholas Brendon) thinks he's found the perfect girl in Alyssa (Sarah Michelle Gellar), but finds that her sordid past as a Vampire Slayer bothers him a little more than his liberal Generation X mindset will let him admit. Also in the picture is Holden's best friend, Banky (Alyson Hannigan), a bitter 20 something who's jealous of Alyssa's hold on Holden and whose caustic asides and uncovering of Alyssa's vampire slaying past drives a wedge between the young lovers. Director Smith also makes a cameo as Loquacious Jackson, the character he created in the first two movies of the trilogy, and who delivers some poignance in telling the story behind the movie's title of "maiming Amy." The Color Scarlet Director: Steven Spielberg, Adapted from the novel by Alice Walker. Buffy (Whoopi Goldberg) is a disadvantaged Slayer living in 1920's Sunnydale. Married to an abusive vampire (David Boreanaz), Buffy befriends her husband's mistress, Shug (Julie Benz), searching for the comfort long missing from her marriage. Nicholas Brendon, Alyson Hannigan, Oprah Winfrey, and Sarah Michelle Gellar (as young Buffy) round out the all-star cast. Join Buffy on her voyage to self-discovery as Spielberg deftly crafts a movie of exquisite beauty from the eloquent words of Alice Walker. (movie clip: Ext. a car pulls away from the front of a house as Buffy yells from the backseat, "I may be a woman! I may be a Slayer! But I'm here!" Her husband looks on, baffled.) Disney's Buffy the Vampire Slayer In its 65th animated feature, Walt Disney Studios takes on the legend of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Disney animators have worked round-the-clock for over 2 years to create the memorable characters in Disney's Buffy. "We knew right away," says director Gary Wise, "that we had to use the original novelization by Richie Tankerley Cusick as a basis for this movie, but otherwise, we had carte blanche in making it a story that we'd all want to see." Characters who have scored high with test audiences are the reconceived Buffy (voiced by Melissa Joan Hart, sung by Deborah Gibson), as a medieval princess who gives up her slayer powers to win the love of handsome Prince Xander (voiced and sung by Jonathan Taylor Thomas), and her vampire bat sidekick, Angelus (voiced by Nathan Lane). Production has been plagued by fans of Buffy, the television series, who have criticized Disney for creating a product that bears no resemblance to its original source material. Birchwood Willow Rosenberg (Alyson Hannigan) is a struggling fashion design student in Chicago, whose modest and mousy designs make her the scorn of the jetset until her indomitable spirit gets her noticed by a possessive photographer (Anthony Perkins, in his final performance) who renames her "Birchwood." Willow, now Birchwood, soars to the heights of the fashion world, becoming one of the most powerful supermodels in the world. However, fame and glamour take their toll, and Birchwood soon notices that a number of her supermodel friends are developing terminal cancers. Can it be the effects of radiation given off by the local Hellmouth? Birchwood becomes a passionate spokesmodel for Hellmouth safety, stepping on the toes of the rich and powerful, until her mysterious death in an automobile accident. Was she murdered? That's what Xander Harris (Billy Dee Williams), a nuclear plant employee and aspiring Chicago politico, wants to find out. Featuring the Oscar-nominated song, "Theme from Birchwood (Do You Know What You're Hacking Through?)" okay. I'll stop now. JJ jjou@mail.med.cornell.edu ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: mike_loriz@juno.com Subject: BUFFYFIC: A Walk Along The Beach 1/4 Date: 21 Oct 1997 15:28:28 -0700 Title: A Walk Along The Beach Author: NuPhalanx E-Mail Address: NuPhalanx@aol.com Distribution: Anya, of course. Others, please ask. Spoiler Warning: Invisible Girl Rating: PG13 Summary: Buffy and her mom have a road trip planned. Characters: Buffy/Joyce/Giles/Other Disclaimer: This story is based on the series created by Joss Whedon. No infringement of any copyright stuff is intended. Rating: PG/PG13 Thank you all who sent me feedback, and a special thank you to Melinda, whose comments resulted in this version. A walk along the beach ver3 (part one) Sunnydale Ca. August 2, 1997 The sun was just slightly over the hills when her alarm went off. Buffy groaned and slapped the silence button. As she pulled the comforter over her head, she heard her mother call from below. "Buffy! I heard that alarm go off. I’ve got breakfast ready. We’ve a lot of driving to do so let’s get a move on!" Buffy flung the comforter aside and sat up, stretching and yawning. Her mother had been planning this trip for three weeks. It would be just her and Mom cruising up the Pacific Coast Highway and having lunch near Carmel. Buffy had to admit that she was happy to be doing something with her mom. But getting up at sunrise was never any fun. As she hurriedly pulled on some jeans and a top, she made sure that she had several stakes and a few other weapons in her bookbag. A Slayer could never be too careful, after all. Wouldn’t Giles be proud of me, she thought. Her mother had an omelet ready for her. Yawning, Buffy sat down and started eating. "It’s going to be a gorgeous day," Mrs. Summers said, watching CNN’s forecast. Buffy found it hard to call any day gorgeous at this hour. "It will be for some of us," Buffy replied. Mrs. Summers frowned and turned to look at her daughter. "I know you kids like to hang out with each other on the weekends, but I would like to have at least one day for just the two of us." Her mom left the kitchen to get her things for the trip. When she returned to the kitchen, Buffy had finished her breakfast and was putting the dishes in the dishwasher. She looked up at her mom. "Sorry, mom. I know how hard it is for you to get away from the Gallery. I’m just a little tired." "You can catch a nap in the car if you want. Are you ready to go?" The Slayer smiled. "I’ll get my bag." Buffy met her mother at the back door and watched as her mom locked it. She settled back into the seat as her mother backed out and headed for the highway. Grabbing a jacket from the back seat, she used it for a pillow as she tried to take a nap. Pacific Coast Highway 25 miles north of Sunnyvale Joyce Summers glanced over at her daughter and smiled. ’Never get a teenager up before noon on a Saturday,’ she thought. Buffy had been asleep since they had turned onto the highway. ‘And just yesterday you were all of twelve years old, a little shy, and nervous about going to a new school. Of course, your father and I having that argument the night before hadn’t helped things very much, either. I know you’re not happy with just the monthly visits with your father,’ Mrs. Summers thought, ’but it has worked out for the three of us. I just hope you understand that both of us still love you very much.’ Looking at the signs near the side of the road, she saw that it would be about another two hours until they reached Carmel. ‘She should be a little less tired in an hour or so,’ Mrs. Summers thought. She looked at Buffy again. She smiled and thought: ‘Teenagers.’ Carmel The two of them were picking out sunglasses from a rack in a convenience store when Buffy noticed the woman for the first time. She was about five feet five inches tall, with bright red hair done in a layered shag. The woman was wearing a khaki jumpsuit and carrying a black bookbag. But what she really noticed was her eyes - ice blue. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, and Buffy noticed that those eyes were expressionless - no sense of anything that might be behind them. Her face held an expression Buffy couldn’t comprehend - expectancy, maybe, and something else. The woman glanced at something across the store, then brushed past Buffy and walked out of the store. Buffy’s spine started tingling as the woman moved past her, and Buffy almost found herself drawing a stake from the sheathe on her left arm - except it wasn’t there, of course. The feeling lessened after a few minutes, but Buffy still shuddered at the intensity - just like when she was getting close to something during the hunt. "Creepy," Buffy muttered to herself. "Did you say something, honey?" her mother asked. Buffy shook her head. "No, I was just talking to myself." Buffy had a strange feeling about that woman - the same feeling she had when Angel would be watching her. She shook her head again. Relax, she told herself. You’re getting a little too sensitive. Her mother was saying something to her. "What? Sorry, I was thinking about something." "I can see that. Is it that boy, Angel?" Buffy looked away for a minute, then replied "Something like that. I just saw someone who reminded me of someone." How lame can you get, moron!? "It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about him. Just remember, you can always talk to me about anything, OK?" Buffys mom made sure she had her daughters attention. "And at any time," she added. Buffy smiled at that. ‘Not quite anything,’ she thought to herself. ‘What would you think if you knew what my life is really like?’ "Are you ready to go? I know I’m hungry, and since you only ate about half of that omelet, I bet you are, too." Leaving the sunglasses behind, they walked out of the store and got into the car. Pulling out of the parking lot, they turned onto the street and headed for the beach, which was only a few blocks away. On a beach, near Carmel Her mother had packed a cooler with the usual picnic goodies - sandwiches, chips, some fresh fruit. They had found an isolated spot on a small rocky outcropping overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Buffy had spread a large blanket for them to sit on, and they ate in silence as they watched the waves batter the rocks. Mrs. Summers noticed that Buffy once again had that far away look in her eyes. "Still thinking about that boy?," she inquired, inwardly smiling at Buffy as she lowered her eyes before looking at her mom. Buffy started to say something, stopped, then tried again. "Mom, did I have anything to do with you and Dad breaking up? I mean, I know I did some weird things at my old school, but I never have been sure that I didn’t have something to do with it." The suddenness of the question startled Joyce. She started to speak, hesitated, then continued. "Oh, honey," Mrs. Summers replied, drawing Buffy close. "I thought we had worked that out before we came to Sunnydale." She took Buffy’s face in her hands and looked into her daughters eyes. Haunted, distressed eyes. "How long has this been bothering you?" Buffy sniffed slightly, then continued to talk. "I just had some bad dreams about it, I guess. Is my insecurity showing?," she said, wiping her eyes as she looked out over the ocean. Her mother smiled. "Just a little. Buffy, your father and I just grew apart. I know it hasn’t been easy on you, but we decided that it would we better if we had a divorce. We both love you, and I wish you had said something about this sooner." She looked out across the ocean, hoping for some comforting words to come to mind. Since nothing came up, she shrugged inwardly and decided to fake it. ‘Here goes,’ she thought. "We both want what’s best for you. If you want to change anything, please tell me. I would understand if you wanted to go back to your father’s early. I’d really like to spend a few weeks with you, but you can do whatever will make you happy." Buffy ventured a small smile. "We would probably drive each other nuts. I just had to hear it from you again, about what happened between you and dad. I just couldn’t bear the thought of being responsible for any trouble between the two of you." ‘I have caused enough trouble for what few friends I have,’ she thought. ‘I hope I can make it up to them someday.’ "Buffy, you are the most joyous thing in my life. Life has a way of going on, even through the bad times. Never, never think you were responsible for what happened between myself and your dad." Mrs. Summers stood up and looked down the beach. "Now, are you up to a walk?" Buffy smiled and stood up. "Lead on," she said. As they walked down the beach, mother and daughter held each other around the waist, laughing as they shared a joke. Further up the beach, unnoticed by either of them, a red-haired figure watched Buffy and her mother as they stopped to examine some seashells. She appeared to be studying Buffy intently. After watching for another minute, she sat down on a nearby bench and pulled a notebook computer from her backpack. Opening the screen and turning the power on, she started typing. The screen had the following characters on it: "Journal Entry - 2Aug97 - I believe I have found the Slayer" End Part One. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: mike_loriz@juno.com Subject: BUFFYFIC: A Walk Along The Beach 2/4 Date: 21 Oct 1997 15:35:39 -0700 Title: A Walk Along The Beach Author: NuPhalanx E-Mail Address: NuPhalanx@aol.com Distribution: Anya, of course. Others please ask. Spoiler Warning: Invisible Girl Rating: PG13 Content Warning: Assault Summary: Buffy and her mom plan a road trip. However, trouble seems to find the Slayer everywhere. Characters: Buffy/Joyce/Giles Disclaimer : This story is based on the series created by Joss Whedon. No infringement is intended. Authors Notes: Wouldn’t it be nice to see Buffy and her mom just having a little mother-daughter fun for once? Of course, trouble seems to follow the Slayer everywhere. This story is rated PG13 for violence and related subject matter. Special thanks to Titania, LadyRHood, Meawan, and Melinda for their comments and suggestions. A walk along the beach ver3 (part two) Carmel August 2, 1997 Buffy Summers kicked her shoes off and waded into the Pacific Ocean. The water was cool and quite pleasant. Turning around, she called back to her mother "Come on, mom! Live a little and get your feet wet." A wave roared in, soaking her jeans to the knees. Turning again, she caught the next wave full in the face. Sputtering, she wiped the water out of her eyes and turned to look for her mother. She smiled as her mom came wading out to join her. "This water is just a little cold today!" Mrs. Summers replied, as yet another wave drenched them both. Buffy grabbed her mothers hand and yelped for joy as the next wave came at them. Deciding she had had enough, her mother led them both back onto the sand. She said to her daughter, in mock seriousness, " I thought we were just going to stay on the beach, young lady". Buffy giggled as her mother started to drip water on her new shoes. "Mom, thanks for setting this up. I mean, I can’t remember the last time you and I just did something for fun." Looking down at her feet, she continued, almost shyly. " I’m really having a good time." "My, my, I always thought teenagers could *never* have a good time with their parents. It’s not cool, or whatever word you kids use these days," Joyce Summers said, brushing Buffy’s hair back into place with her hands. "Yea, I guess it is a major social no-no to do things with your parents. Sometimes. But not this time," Buffy said, smiling at her mom. The two of them sat down and just looked out over the ocean, watching the boats just offshore, the people sunbathing, swimming, and the other things one does on a beach. It was a beautiful August day, with just a slight breeze blowing off the ocean. For about the tenth time since they had arrived, Buffy wished that somehow Angel could be here with her. ‘Would he want to go wading,’ she wondered? ‘More likely he was one to cuddle up with her next to a fire, or get away from the lights and just look up at the stars.’ Would she ever get to find out? She had not been able to reach him for nearly ten days now, and was starting to get majorly wigged about it. She resolved to get his address out of Giles when she got back, one way or the other. ‘If Giles will talk to me,’ she thought glumly, remembering their last conversation. Buffy had again brought up the subject of informing her mother the truth about her daughter. Giles had been against it, reminding her that her mother was better off not knowing. ‘It would just make her a target and life all the more harder on you,’ he had told her. She remembered the angry reply she had thrown at him: "As if it couldn’t get any harder than it already is!" She had stalked out of his house, slamming the door behind her. That had been Friday night, when she had been feeling more than a little anxious about today’s trip. Now she felt just a little bit of guilt at having walked out on Giles. After all, he had always tried to keep her best interests in mind. Like he always has, and probably always would, until one of them was no longer around. Checking her watch, Joyce stood and brushed some sand off her jeans. "Honey, I’ve got that meeting at the local Historical Society. I should be back in two hours. Can you meet me here?" Buffy glanced up at her mom. "Sure. I won’t go very far from here." Her mom looked at her for a second, then said "Okay. I know I can trust you to stay out of trouble." Buffy grinned inwardly at that comment. ‘If you only had a clue,’ Buffy thought. Better not go there. She helped her mom clean up the remnants of their picnic, then started off down the beach. She turned to wave at her mom and watched her drive off to another meeting. Then Buffy started walking, noticing an old lighthouse about a half-mile down the beach. Deciding to check it out, she changed her direction slightly. Then she started thinking about her mother, the Gallery, and the trip they were on. Always some meeting, or a late night, or paperwork, OR SOMETHING!! she thought, trudging onward. Of course, some of her mothers activities did make it easier for Buffy to be the Slayer, but lately she had really wanted to spend more time with her mom. Looking up, she noticed she had walked further down the beach than she had intended. She had walked past the old lighthouse, and was in a small cove that was surrounded by cliffs on the landward side. She noticed a small wooded area near the top of a small rise and decided to get a look at the ocean from up there. Checking her watch, she saw that she still had about an hour and a quarter to kill. Reaching the top of the rise, she sat down at the base of a tree and looked out over the ocean. It was nice to be in a shady spot, as the temperature had climbed just a little. She had just started thinking about Angel again when a shiver went up her spine. She stiffened, and stood up slowly, but couldn’t see anything near- Two white-hot needles touched her back, and then it felt like her whole body was on fire. She was vaguely aware of falling, and then the blackness closed in. *** The sand was wet against her face. She hurt everywhere. ‘What was going on?’ she wondered. ‘Why am I lying in the sand?’ A man was talking to her. "Miss, can you hear me? I’m an EMT. We’re going to take you to the hospital now." She was dizzy, her tongue felt like cotton, and her eyes wouldn’t focus. "Wha-" she murmured, trying to sit up. A firm hand held her down. "Just lay back and relax, okay?" The dizziness got worse, and she let her head fall backwards. She could feel herself being lifted by someone, then she faded out again. When she opened her eyes again, she could see some bright lights overhead as she was being wheeled into the hospital. Her mother was at her side, with a worried look on her face. Voices came and went. " …possible OD, run a chem seven stat…" "…found her on the beach, no apparent injuries…" "…any ID on her?…" "…her mother’s here. Keep her out there until we get this kid stable…" Darkness overcame her again. Regional Hospital Joyce sat in the Emergency Room, anxiously waiting for someone to tell her what happened to Buffy. She waited a few more minutes, then got up and walked down to the nurses station. She had the duty nurse page the doctor that had worked on Buffy. He appeared after a few minutes, carrying some paperwork with him. "Mrs. Summers, I just got the lab results back on your daughter." He took Joyce by the arm and led her to a small conference room. Joyce didn’t like the look in his eyes. Alarmed, she asked "Is she going to be alright?" Dr. Cardillo nodded. "We’d like to keep her overnight for observation." He paused for a moment, looking uncertain as how to continue. "Mrs. Summers, I think your daughter was very lucky today. We found traces of Rohypnol in her blood. That would explain her disorientation." He flipped through several pages of the chart, then looked up at Joyce again. "There are no signs of any physical trauma or assault. Just a small burn on her back, and what appears to be a needle mark on her left arm." He paused again before going on, obviously trying to think of the correct words. "Mrs. Summers, has your daughter ever used drugs?" "Absolutely not! She’s a good kid, and I trust her." Mrs. Summers didn’t like where this line of questioning was going. Dr. Cardillo noticed the look on her face and changed his approach. "I’m sorry to have to ask you that, but I need to know so we can help your daughter. The Rohypnol level in her system isn’t very high, but it is a cause for concern." Joyce was aghast. "That’s the stuff the press calls the ‘date-rape’ drug, isn’t it?" Dr. Cardillo nodded. "Someone apparently tried to hit her with some. She should be okay in another day or so. I’ve prescribed some medication for her to help ease the side affects. She should follow up with your family doctor in a few days." He stood, and then continued. "A Detective will want to speak with her, but I doubt she’ll remember anything. That’s why this stuff is so hideous. He turned to leave, then added: "If you need to talk to anyone, just have any nurse page me." Joyce thanked the doctor, then sat there while her mind raced. ‘Someone drugged my daughter. WHY WHY WHY!? Didn’t I tell her to be careful? I should not have let her walk around up here on her own. Damn that Gallery! All I wanted was some time with Buffy.’ She stood up and walked down to Buffy’s room on shaky legs. She looked at her daughter, resting peacefully in her bed. ‘What happened? Did you try to prove how adult you were? I thought I could trust you. I thought I had taught you to NEVER get into a situation where this could happen.’ Joyce Summers watched her daughter sleep and was thankful for the lifeguard that had found her near the shore. She had been almost frantic when she had returned from her meeting to find that Buffy wasn’t back yet. After waiting for an extra hour, she had asked some of the lifeguards for help. The lifeguards had quickly organized a search and found Buffy about thirty minutes later. The EMTs had found no signs of a fight or struggle, but Buffy had been unresponsive until just before arriving at the hospital. ‘What did you get into this time,’ Joyce thought. ‘And why do you always seem to find trouble wherever you go?’ Buffy stirred, moaned, then opened her eyes. She looked around quickly and was relieved to see her mother beside her. "Where…What happened?" she asked, noticing that she was in a hospital. Joyce smiled at her daughter, squeezing her hand as she talked to her. "You gave us quite a scare, young lady. How do you feel?" Joyce watched Buffy closely as her daughter shook her head, trying to find the right words. "Sore. Dizzy. Can I have some water?" Buffy asked, noticing the pitcher near her bed. Her mother poured her a glass and held it for her while she thirstily drank it down. "Is that better?" Joyce asked. Buffy nodded, then let her head drop back down on to the pillow. "Do you remember what happened? Anything at all?" Buffy tried to think back about the days events, but couldn’t penetrate the fog that had gathered in her head. "Just - just walking down the beach. You had left for your meeting, and - that’s it." She shook her head, but the motion only made the dizziness worse. "That’s all I can remember." Buffy had a distressed look on her face. "Mom, why can’t I remember?" Mrs. Summers shushed her daughter and stroked her hair. "It’s okay, honey, just lay back and rest. I’m sure it will come back to you." Buffy nodded and closed her eyes. Joyce just watched her daughter as she drifted off, hoping that she would be okay. Her eyes grew misty as she started thinking about what might of, or could of, happened today. ‘What do I do now?’ Looking at Buffy’s sleeping form, Mrs. Summers wished someone would give her an answer. *** Buffy didn’t know where she was. She couldn’t see anything. There was a bright light on her face, and someone was talking. The voice was distorted, as if coming from a great distance. "Tell us about the Unseen," someone was asking. Buffy was confused. What was this person talking about? Unseen what? The person kept asking her questions, gently prodding her to answer. Needles. Several long, sharp looking needles. Buffy hated needles. One needle touched her arm, stinging as it penetrated the skin. Buffy gasped and sat bolt upright, screaming. Within a minute a nurse had entered her room and was gently grasping her shoulders. "Shh, honey, it’s allright. Easy now, let’s put your head back, okay?" The nurse helped Buffy get comfortable again. "Do you want to tell me about it?" Buffy shook her head. "Just a nightmare." The nurse smoothed the sheets around Buffy and helped her get comfortable. "Call if you need anything, okay?" the nurse told her, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Buffy’s face. Buffy nodded at her. "Sure." The nurse checked the IV line and then left the room. ‘What a doozy,’ Buffy thought. ‘Where did this ‘Unseen’ come from?’ Resolving to ask Giles about it, she closed her eyes and drifted off, hoping that there would be no other dreams tonight. Mrs. Summers had picked Buffy up in the morning after another checkup by Dr. Cardillo and a chat with a Detective. The policeman had been sympathetic, but could offer no realistic expectation of ever finding who had done this. Buffy was still tired from her ordeal, and this made for a quiet trip home. This suited Joyce just fine, as she didn’t know what to do first: hug her again, or try not to cry in front of her daughter. She decided to do nether until Buffy felt better. Buffy definitely looked like she could use a great amount of TLC. ‘We can talk this out in a few days,’ Joyce thought, glancing at her daughter. ‘I just can’t believe this has happened. She’s always been so careful.’ Joyce grimly looked out the windshield, as another unwelcome thought came to her head. ‘This is my fault. I should never have left her alone.’ She did resolve to contact her ex-husband immediately after getting home. ‘I would think that he would tell me if he had noticed any changes in Buffy’s behavior,’ Joyce thought. But then again, like most men, he probably didn’t notice the most obvious things going on around him. ‘He damn well better notice this,’ she thought angrily. ‘We’ve put Buffy through enough and maybe it’s starting to take a toll on her.’ She looked at Buffy again, sleeping in the back seat. ‘We will have a talk when you feel better,’ Joyce resolved. Sunnydale - August 5, 1997 Buffy had recovered enough that she was like her old self after a few days. Or mostly like herself, Giles mused, watching her go through a workout in his back yard. He was updating his Journal with the shocking information Buffy had given him about the previous weekend. He knew of no supernatural entity that would do this to a person, so he was at a total loss as how he could help this young woman with this problem. This wasn’t covered by his fathers’ training, nor by any reference book he had. And Giles didn’t like faking it. He sat quietly as Buffy continued her sparing, watching her moves, the obvious fury in her eyes, the barred teeth as she continued to practice with a quarterstaff. Buffy was soaked in sweat, yet still she kept driving herself. Harder, faster, deadlier, she told herself, knocking the sparring dummy to the ground. If I had been faster, maybe I wouldn’t have this little gap in my memory, she yelled at herself. And maybe my mother would still trust me, and not afraid to let me out of the house without a bodyguard. She hung her head, taking a break. She felt a tear running down her face. ‘That’s what hurts the most,’ she thought. ‘I had worked so hard to put some of the things I had done in the past behind me. I know that I was never the most responsible person in the world, but I was really trying here. And now someone has gone and destroyed it.’ Giles had walked over, carrying a bottle of water that he offered her. She took it without comment and proceeded to drain it. She could fell his eyes on her. "Giles, please, I know you want to help. I just don’t think that there’s anything you can do here." She balled her fists and stared at the ground. "Looks like I’m alone with this one." "Absolutely not, Buffy. I am your Watcher, and need I remind you that I am responsible for helping your mental state as well as the physical one." He paused, looking for the right words. "Whoever did this to you may never be caught. I can’t do anything about that. But I can be here for you, just like I’ve been through all our other trials." He looked away from her, gathering his thoughts. "Give your mother some time, Buffy. I’m sure you and your mother will work the situation through." Buffy snorted, then looked away from him. "Have you been hearing anything I’ve said lately? SHE DOESN’T TRUST ME! I don’t think you have any idea of just how much that hurts me." She wandered over to a chair and plopped down on it. Tears streamed down her face freely now. "I-I’ve started to think that maybe I did do something stupid." Giles knelt in front of her, and took her hands in his. "Look at me, Buffy." When she didn’t look up, he repeated his words, a little more forcefully. "LOOK AT ME!" She looked up, startled, not remembering the last time he had used that tone of voice with her. "We’ve been together now for almost a year. I know you as if you were my own daughter. You’re impulsive, free-spirited, and very loyal to those whom you care about." He touched her cheek with one of his hands. It hurt him deeply to see his young charge so distraught. "But I have NEVER seen you do anything as idiotic as you think you have. You are not that foolish. You were assaulted, Buffy, and I demand that you cease this self-destructive thinking that you’re doing." He smiled slightly at her. "I need my Slayer to have her head together." Buffy sniffed, wiped her eyes, then offered him a wan smile. "Thanks for listening to me when I wigged out, Giles. I’ll keep it together, I promise." She took the hand he offered as he helped her stand; then the two of them walked into his house. She even managed a small laugh at some joke he was trying to tell her. But inside, she still felt uneasy about what had happened. Buffy didn’t think that would change anytime soon. End part 2. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Lisa Rose Subject: BUFFYFIC: Little Buffy's Vacation Spots Date: 22 Oct 1997 23:37:20 -0700 LITTLE BUFFY'S VACATION SPOTS Where does a young Slayer go to unwind when she's not "on patrol"? Whether hanging in Sunnydale, or going on a trip with her family, here are some of the places Little Buffy might have enjoyed going to "get away from it all," had she and her loved ones only known sooner she was to rid the world of vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness: 1. The Vampire State Building - Now why would Little Buffy want to spend her free time in a building that is infested with nothing but wall-to-wall bloodsuckers? Quite simply, it's a fifteen hundred foot pillar of concentrated targets, who have very few escape routes other than the front door. Little Buffy likes to think of it as a giant upside-down vampire Pez dispenser. Betcha can't slay just one! 2. Demon Marcus Department Store - It's midnight at the pet cemetery. A dying vampire Rottweiler rips Little Buffy's favorite black slaying jumper just after she stakes him. Now she looks terrible! What if Little Angel comes by? Where is she going to find a replacement (blood-resistant), with matching splinter-proof gloves, at this hour? The question is rhetorical, because she knows there's only *one* place she can go... And they even take *Master* Card. 3. Ben and Scary's Ice Cream - Ben, the day manager of Sunnydale's fave ice cream joint is jovial and kind. But at sundown, his sinister business partner "Scary" takes over the store to handle the night crowd, and it's a whole new ball of wax (or is that "house of wax"?). Suddenly the store becomes *the* place for Bronze pickup artists dressed in yesterday's fashions to bring their newly acquired "dates," and Scary just looks the other way. Gone are the friendly flavors of the daylight hours, replaced now by "Bury Garcia," "Bloody Monkey," and "Clearcut Forest Crunch." (Patrons getting ice cream on their noses are advised to not let *any* other customers in the store help them wipe it off!) 4. Stakey's Pizza Parlor - Old Man Stakey had a rep for throwing one mean pizza crust. So much so that he was rumored to be able to decapitate young punk vampires who came in to harass his customers with it, especially if the crust was running slightly stale that day. "No real skin off my nose," he'd remark, "those vamps are lousy tippers anyway!" Little Buffy would *beg* her parents to take her to see the old man in action, learning techniques she would later apply to music cymbals and other weapons. Also didn't hurt that Stakey always gave her a free "Herbert" style combo pizza with extra bacon whenever she showed up just to idolize him! "Little Buffy's Vacation Spots" can be found under "Little Buffy's Recreation" at: http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html ("Vampire State Building" name suggested by Jim) Lisa (http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: mike_loriz@juno.com Subject: BUFFYFIC: A Walk Along The Beach 4/4 Date: 22 Oct 1997 15:09:49 -0700 Title: A Walk Along The Beach (part 4) Characters: Buffy/Joyce/Other Author: NuPhalanx Rating: PG13 Distribution: Anya, of course. Others, please ask. Spoiler: Invisible Girl Disclaimer : This story is based on the series created by Joss Whedon. No infringement is intended. Authors Notes: Wouldn’t it be nice to see Buffy and her mom just having a little mother-daughter fun for once? Of course, trouble seems to follow the Slayer everywhere. This story is rated PG13 for violence and related subject matter. Also, the Upholders, Unseen, Ms. Blaize, Hoshi, and the Director are mine. Special thanks to Titania, LadyRHood, Meawan, and Melinda for their comments and suggestions. A walk along the beach ver3 (part four) Sunnydale 12 August "Allright, Buffy, same deal as before. You can leave now, or you can come with me to help out. One of the Unseen is believed to be after someone of importance to us." She clicked her watch again, then met Buffy’s gaze with those cold blue eyes. "You have two minutes to decide." Buffy glanced outside, then met Blaize’s gaze. Holding her voice steady, she replied: "Let’s do it." Ms. Blaize turned on her heel and headed outside. Buffy followed. Blaize led her to the garage and opened the door. Inside was a black BMW. Buffy whistled, having seen Cordelia’s car and knowing that it didn’t come cheap. She climbed in the passenger side and buckled in as Blaize started the car and headed down the road towards Sunnydale. Speed soon built up as she shifted quickly through the gears, revving the engine to the red line with each shift. A few minutes later the BMW entered the highway and was still accelerating. Buffy tried not to look nervous as Blaize dodged through the traffic. "Do you have a death wish or something?" Buffy asked with a confidence she didn’t feel, watching as Blaize expertly maneuvered the car around a semi truck. "The idea is to get there alive so we can take out this ‘Unseen’ person you guys keep talking about." Blaize didn’t look away from the road in front of her. "Relax. I do this all the time." She downshifted again and zipped around another slow moving truck. The phone rang, beeping urgently. "Yes?" Blaize answered, looking just a little bit annoyed. "Great. I’ll be there in ten minutes. NO ONE LEAVES, YOU GOT THAT?" She placed the phone back in its cradle. Buffy noticed that the tachometer was near the redline and hoped that this car would hold together better than the one she had found Ms. Blaize near earlier in the day. Buffy looked at her. "Good news, I hope." She was starting to relax as she got used to the speed of everything rushing by her. Can’t wait to try this out on my own, she thought, enjoying the rush. Blaize smiled, very slightly. "I hope you’re ready to go hunting. We have one of the Unseen trapped in the basement of another safe area. Trouble is, you and I are the only ones nearby who have ever dealt with them. Our main team is just a little occupied watching someone." Buffy had no comment at first, then she started recalling her fight with Marcie. That had not been a lot of fun. Marcie hadn’t been that strong, but she obviously knew some style of fighting from the force of her attack. "Any idea what kind of loony we’re dealing with here?" Blaize shook her head. "All we know is that one of the Unseen has broken into another safe house. Prepare yourself, Slayer. We’re almost there." *** It turned out to be a tough fight, even with the two of them looking out for each other. Ms. Blaize had brought one weapon - a Taser gun that she handled with quiet confidence. Buffy realized what it was when she saw it, but just had to comment about it. "Got your phaser set to kill?" Blaize just gave her a withering glare in reply. She made sure her people were ready, so that their invisible friend wouldn’t escape, then lead them both down the stairs. Buffy shuddered when she recalled the fight. The Unseen had been waiting for them. He attacked Ms. Blaize first, as he felt she was the most dangerous. As she lay on the floor, stunned, Buffy had tried to use her Slayer sense to locate her opponent. She had been able to connect, once, but then he had managed to knock her across the room. As Blaize was still stunned, Buffy summoned all her strength and concentration and just managed to get a firm hold on him. As she was struggling for her life, Blaize had come to her senses and was able to use her Taser gun against the Unseen boy who was furiously trying to throw Buffy off his back. He grunted as the probes from the gun touched his skin and the charge hit him. Unfortunately, Buffy received a partial jolt that threw her up against the wall again. She was still a little dizzy when Blaize had come over to check on her. "How are you feeling?" She offered a hand to Buffy and helped her up. She kept her hand on Buffy’s arm when she swayed unsteadily. "Get that medic over here," Buffy heard her say, as she stumbled across the room. Buffy was more than happy to sit down again. Ms. Blaize knelt beside her, a concerned look on her face. A young woman sat next to Buffy and started to check her vital signs. Buffy started to protest, but Blaize quieted her with a stern "Shut it!" The medic did a few other tests then looked at Ms. Blaize. "She’ll be okay. It’s just from that nasty little shock you gave her." The medic broke an ammonia ampoule under Buffy’s nose and held it there. Buffy turned her head but the medic just followed her nose. "Just sit back, breathe this for a few minutes, and you should be okay." She handed the ammonia ampoule to Ms. Blaize and then moved off with a group of people carrying a stretcher out of the basement. There was a strange silver blanket - covered figure on it. ‘Score one for us,’ Buffy thought, wondering about the person that had just tried to kill them. ‘Can these guys do any better in holding him than the FBI?’ Idly, she wondered what would happen to the person. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t ask,’ she thought. ‘I would rather not disappear. I’ll just see how this plays out and talk to Giles.’ "Feeling better?" Blaize inquired, helping Buffy to her feet. Buffy nodded, then started to walk to the nearby stairs. Ms. Blaize followed, watching her closely for any other signs that she wasn’t okay. When they reached the outdoors, Buffy saw that the area was deserted. Except for a house about a quarter of a mile away, there were no other signs of anybody. "Impressive much," Buffy said, getting into the car. "Your SWAT team disappeared in a hurry." "I’ve said it before - the less our group is noticed, the better it is for all involved." Blaize started the car and pulled out onto the road. "I’ll take you back to get your bike." Neither of them said another word until they had arrived at the other safe house. Buffy was on alert, but yet could sense no danger - or anything, for that matter - from this woman. Was she just going to let her leave? Ms. Blaize had asked Buffy to wait outside, then disappeared into the house. After a few minutes, she came back out carrying a small case. She motioned towards the beach, which was about a thousand feet away. "Let’s go take a walk." They made their way down a grassy slope to the beach. There were several NO TRESPASSING signs about, so the beach was deserted. Buffy continued with some trepidation, as her companion had not said a word since they had left the house. When the house was no longer in view, Ms. Blaize stopped and looked out at the ocean. Buffy stood there quietly, as she wasn’t certain what was going to happen next. She still had received no warnings from her Slayer sense. Of course, there was always a first time for it not to work, she thought. Nice to see if this was it. "Now I’ve got to decide about what to do with you," Ms. Blaize said, a hint of weariness in her voice. Buffy started to move, but Blaize just raised her hand. "No, I’m not going to zap you again or anything like that. I gave you my word, and I keep my word. Besides," she continued, smiling. "You were of help to us. For that I thank you." For once, Buffy could think of no jibe or retort. It just didn’t seem proper, somehow. Ms. Blaize was handing her the case. Buffy took it, then opened it slightly to see what was inside. ‘A CD-ROM?’ she thought, confused. She looked at Ms. Blaize with a quizzical expression on her face. "That has every piece of information on you that we have gathered. I had Hoshi remove all our files concerning you from our system and put them on that disk. I think we owe you that much after your - experience." She looked down at the sand, sheepishly. Buffy was surprised to see that expression on Blaize’s face. It just didn’t seem to be something this woman would experience. ’Like I’m a Psyche major,’ Buffy thought. "Will this get you in trouble with your, um, boss?" she asked, sliding the case into one of her pockets. Ms. Blaize shrugged. "It’s my call." She didn’t seem overly concerned about it. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Buffy checked her watch and saw it was two in the afternoon. Her mom would be closing the Gallery at four today, so it was time to start heading home. She had one more question that she had to ask. "Will we ever see each other again? I mean, it was kind of fun to have a bad-ass partner, you know?" Ms. Blaize just nodded at the CD-ROM. "Make sure you look at that." They walked back to the house in silence. Buffy retrieved her bike, got on, and started off down the road. She took one look back and watched as a BMW roared off in the opposite direction. Buffy had managed to beat her mother home by a whole ten minutes. She had jumped into the shower and was just drying off when she heard the front door open and her mother come in. "I’m home, honey," her mother called out. Buffy opened the bathroom door and replied: "I’m up here, mom." She continued to brush her hair as she heard her mom climb the stairs. Buffy had a nervous feeling in her stomach, just like she used to get ever since she was five and she knew things weren’t right between her and her mom. Hopefully she wouldn’t throw up. Big ick factor. Joyce knocked on the bathroom door. She opened it slightly and spoke to her daughter. "Honey, I’ve been thinking about things all day. Can we talk when you’re done in there?" "Sure, mom. I’ll be done in a ‘sec." Joyce went back downstairs. Buffy finished her brushing and, after a moments hesitation, went to talk to her mom. ‘I wonder how long we can last ‘till we start yelling at each other again,’ she thought glumly. Her mom was waiting for her in the living room. Buffy sat down on the couch and waited for her mom to begin. It wasn’t a long wait. "Honey, I know that things have been tense between us since what happened at Carmel. Part of that is my fault. I’m very sorry that I’ve been overly protective of you since then. I know that I can trust you to do the right thing. But I - I just wish I could take that whole day back," Joyce said, her lower lip trembling. Buffy felt a tear slide down her cheek as she impulsively hugged her mom. Joyce gripped her daughter tightly, trying to shield her from the world, and realizing that she couldn’t do it forever. ‘I will have to trust her,’ Joyce thought. ’I have done my best, and while there is still more that I can do for her, it’s time to start letting go.’ Buffy sniffed and closed her eyes, content to be in her mothers arms. It was a good feeling, and she was in no hurry to have it end. She said softly: "Mom, I’m really sorry for being such a nut case since then. I know that I’m usually not that bad." Buffy pulled back from her mother and looked into her eyes. There was love and concern reflected in them. Joyce smirked at her. "Not too bad," she teased. Buffy smiled at her mother, then continued. "Mom, could we go to the beach, please? I’d really like to finish that walk." Joyce smiled back at her daughter. "Let me get my keys." On a public beach west of Sunnydale Buffy had changed into shorts and a T-shirt for their walk. It was a beautiful day, with only a few clouds in the sky. There was a gentle breeze tugging at her hair as they walked onto the beach from the parking lot. Her mother had said very little on the drive from home, but had a happy expression on her face. Buffy swore that this time, there would be no shouting match between them. Besides, it was just too embarrassing to have anyone see her and her mom arguing in public. Buffy had enough grief to deal with without having to add some public humiliation to it. "Buffy, I’ve felt so bad for you. I’ve been thinking about that day every night for the past two weeks. This was so hard for me to realize, but there just isn’t - and won’t - be anything we can do to change it." She looked at Buffy closely. "And I know it’s been hard for you, too. Are you still having those nightmares?" Buffy shuddered as she remembered some of the nightmares she had been having. Of course, some of them were the result of Ms. Blaize. But she had had others about making the wrong choice, and getting hurt for it. It hadn’t done much for her confidence. "Yea, the dreams are still there, but just not as bad." She paused for a minute, trying to gather her thoughts. "Mom, I’m sorry about being such a headcase lately. I know I can be a handful, but thanks for putting up with me." She looked at her mom, and then continued. "Are you still trying that stuff from those parenting books? You know, I can look at them in the library and then I could really play some head games." She smiled sweetly, loving the look that come over her mother’s face. "Then I’ll just have to get some new books. You can not win this fight, young lady," Joyce said, trying to sound like a prison camp commandant. She only succeeded in making Buffy laugh. Joyce was glad to hear her laugh. "Are you okay?" Buffy nodded, glad to have worked things out between them. It made things much easier to deal with if she could talk to her mom. Joyce cupped Buffy’s face in her hands and looked at her daughter with a serious expression on her face. "Just remember, honey, it was not your fault. You understand? And don’t forget that." Buffy nodded. "Yea. Thanks, mom." And thank you, Ms. Blaize, wherever you are. Pacific Coast Highway - 25 miles north of Sunnydale Ms. Blaize sat on a bench at a rest stop, working on her computer. She was typing quickly, watching the screen, then typing some more. *It was too bad that she had a partial recall of the interrogation,* user Director.uphold.net responded. She typed a reply. *I dealt with it.* *Understood. Do you have her trust?* *Perhaps. Is it important?* She waited a full two minutes for the reply. *Yes. She would be useful to us. Very useful. The call is yours.* Director.uphold.net logged off. Ms. Blaize sat back, resting for a moment before shutting down her computer and getting in her BMW. She left a cloud of dust behind her as she headed north along the highway. End please send comments and whatever to: NuPhalanx@aol.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: mike_loriz@juno.com Subject: BUFFYFIC: A Walk Along The Beach 3/4 Date: 22 Oct 1997 15:09:22 -0700 Title: A Walk Along The Beach (part 3) Characters: Buffy/Joyce/Other Author: NuPhalanx Rating: PG13 Distribution: Anya, of course. Others, please ask. Spoiler: Invisible Girl Disclaimer : This story is based on the series created by Joss Whedon. No infringement is intended. Authors Notes: Wouldn’t it be nice to see Buffy and her mom just having a little mother-daughter fun for once? Of course, trouble seems to follow the Slayer everywhere. This story is rated PG13 for violence and related subject matter. Special thanks to Titania, LadyRHood, Meawan, and Melinda for their comments and suggestions. A walk along the beach ver3 (part three) Sunnydale 12 August Buffy was up just past sunrise on a Tuesday morning. She had had another fight with her mother and had gone to bed early. Buffy grimaced inwardly as she recalled the heated argument the two of them had about the aftermath of the Carmel trip. Buffy’s mother was usually very trusting, but now Joyce was always wary when Buffy went out, especially at night. It was obvious that her mother was feeling guilty about what had happened. As she was moving quietly around her room, she wondered if things were ever going to return to how they were before the attack. It didn’t help that her mother was once again reading those parenting books, trying to figure out what she had done wrong. Deciding that she was fed up with the whole situation, she slowly stepped down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. She could hear her mom in the shower so she knew that she didn’t have much time. Grabbing a bottle of orange juice from the fridge, she left the house and went out back to get her bicycle. Pulling on her protective padding, she tucked her hair up under her helmet and was soon riding down the street. Giles had given her the next two days off to relax and gather her thoughts, but it didn’t seem to be working very well. For about the hundredth time, Buffy wished that Willow hadn’t gone on that backpacking trip with her parents. She really needed another female shoulder to cry on. She didn’t think that Xander would be much help, as he seemed to rarely have any problems with his parents. And Giles was obviously out of his league here, although she had to give him credit for trying. After all, the Slayer was not of much use to him in her current mental state. At least there had been a lull in any kind of activity. As she rode through the outlying areas of Sunnydale, she wondered what would happen if she just sat down with her mom and had it out. Not the screaming and yelling that had been going on for the past week, but a calm, rational chat about what had happened. There had to be some way to get through to her mom that there just wasn’t anything either of them could have done differently. Of course, Mrs. Summers was in denial about that fact. ‘It’s like this, mom,’ she thought to herself, pedaling harder as she started to go uphill. ’I know you think this could’ve been avoided. I admit that I haven’t always had the best judgment, but I really didn’t do anything wrong. I am guilty of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I know you think that it might have been different had you not left me, but this DID happen, and we have to deal with it.’ Nodding her head, she decided to give it a try. ‘Now, if only someone could help me explain these weird dreams I keep having,’ she thought, wincing at the memory of last nights dream. ‘Giles thinks that my Slayer ability is still trying to tell me something. I just wish I knew what it was.’ Buffy recalled the dream from the night before, as it had been a little different form the others. The needles, the light, the question was still there. But now a woman was present. A red-haired woman, who seemed to be asking other questions. But she couldn’t remember what the questions were. She noticed that she had ridden out to the west end of the city, where some cliffs overlooked a beach and the Pacific Ocean. She hopped off her bike and sat down near a group of trees, taking a break. Further up the road, she noticed that a car was pulled off, its hood up and steam coming out of the radiator. ‘Someone’s not getting to work on time,’ she noted wryly. ‘Maybe I’ll see if they need some help.’ Jumping back on her bike, she started towards the car. As she rode closer, she began to get that creepy feeling again. Deciding not to take any chances, she pulled a stake out of her waistband and held it under one arm as she stopped about ten feet behind the car. Someone was at the front, looking at the engine. Since Buffy couldn’t tell if it was male or female, she slowly walked around the car. Standing in front of the car was a red-headed woman. She hadn’t heard Buffy approach and looked up with a start. She had the oddest blue eyes - and then it hit Buffy. A flash. A needle. The bright light. The woman obviously recognized Buffy. She made a move to grab something out of her jacket, but Buffy was faster. She dropped the woman with a roundhouse kick and then stood back from her, screaming: " I remember you! What did you do to me!?" The woman looked at Buffy for a minute, then tried to sit up. Buffy kicked her in the head, hard. "One more time - WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!!??" Buffy kept just out of arms reach, but was watching closely to make sure there were no surprises. ‘At least this woman’s alone,’ she thought. "What I had to do. Are you feeling better, Slayer?" Red looked at her with something shining in her eyes - defiance, maybe, and something else. Buffy paused, not too certain of what she should do next. The red-haired woman continued to watch her, looking just a little dismayed at the situation. Finally, she spoke again. "My name is Ms. Blaize. My employer needed information and we thought you might be able to help us," she said, rubbing her head where Buffy had connected. "Good shot, by the way." Buffy was not amused. "Nice of you to ask me. Did you get your jollies by drugging me? One more time - what did you do to me? And why?" Ms. Blaize stood up and moved further off the road, motioning for Buffy to follow. Buffy did, warily. The woman sat down in the grass and looked up at the young girl standing over her. "I had told the Director that it wasn’t a good idea." She glanced at her watch, then stood up. Buffy dropped back into a fighting stance. Ms. Blaize waved her hand dismissively. "Look, I have to get somewhere. You can come with me if you want. I really don’t want a fight." She turned on her heel and started walking. Uncertain of what to do, Buffy challenged her with "Why should I follow you? I don’t need to get drugged up again." Ms. Blaize stopped, turned, and sighed. She moved closer to the girl. Buffy watched her warily. The woman seemed to be debating what to do next. After a strained silence, Ms. Blaize spoke. "I have heard about your paranormal activities. I belong to a group that monitors the paranormal, and assists others when able. We call ourselves the Upholders." She made a show of setting her watch alarm. When she was done, she looked at Buffy again, and her eyes were like ice. Blue ice that pinned Buffy where she stood. ‘What a strange sensation,’ she thought. ‘Is this how the bird feels when the cat is about to strike?’ "When the alarm goes off, I am leaving, with or without you. If you come with me, you have my word that you will be unharmed. Or, you can leave, and you will not be bothered again." She pressed a button on the side of her watch. "You have two minutes to decide." Buffy watched the woman closely. She just stood there, watching the timer count itself down. She could make out no expression on her face, but there was no mistaking the fact that Ms. Blaize was serious. I have to know more, Buffy thought. Maybe these people can be of use to Giles and I. She made her decision. Then the watch beeped. Time was up. Red looked at her questioningly. "Let’s go," was all Buffy said. They had walked about a mile up the road when Buffy saw the house. It was one of those beach houses that was really expensive and exclusive and whatever else the tabloids used to describe them. Red led her down the driveway without a word and then they walked around to the back of the house. Buffy didn’t feel any warnings, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t anything waiting to attack her. She had a stake in hand, just in case. Ms. Blaize had pulled out a plastic card with a magnetic strip along one side. As she swiped it through a slot below the door, she said: "Welcome to one of our safe houses, Buffy." She saw Buffy hesitate at the entrance. Smiling internally at the girls’ caution, she said: " I gave you my word. Now come on in." Carefully, Buffy stepped inside. Ms. Blaize followed. They were standing in what looked like a normal kitchen. Blaize led the Slayer into the living room, where there was a young Asian man sitting at a computer. He looked up, returned to his work, then looked up again. "Are you nuts-" he sputtered, looking at Buffy. Ms. Blaize cut him off, harshly. "My call, Hoshi. I think we’ve interfered enough in her life as it is. Any signs of the Unseen?" Glancing at Buffy, Hoshi sat down at his computer. He touched an icon on the desktop, and read the text that came up. " Not yet. Our source wasn’t sure what day they would move on our subject." Buffy came over to look at the message. Shaking her head, she looked up at Blaize. "I kept having dreams about someone asking about these - Unseen. Who are they? And why would I know them?" Blaize looked at her. "The Unseen are assassins. We know that they work for hire, but we do not know who is leading them. We had hoped that you might have had some information." She looked away for a moment, as if she were considering something. Then she continued. "I’m sorry about what we did, but not why we did it. I’m sure you’ll understand our need to keep the knowledge of our group to a minimum." "This is too X-Files," Buffy replied. "I mean, I’ve ran across some strange things, but this is too much." She moved over to look out the large bay window, and wished Giles was here. Or anybody, so that she could stop this feeling of needing to run wildly in circles. Then something clicked in her head. Why hadn’t she seen this connection before? "Maybe I’ve had a complete mental meltdown, but you’re talking about people like Marcie, aren’t you?" She looked at both of them. "I thought the FBI was taking care of her?" Ms. Blaize shook her head. "That’s only partially correct. Hoshi can fill you in on the details. I have a call to make." Hoshi smiled and motioned her to sit near him. He brought up a file on his computer. "About three months ago, four of the ‘invisibles’ escaped from a heavily secured FBI facility. We were monitoring the FBI as we weren’t sure as to what was going on with these people. Since the escape, four people have been killed by someone claiming to be the ‘Unseen’. Whoever they are, we were called in because most everyone else is out of their league." "And you think that these people will strike somewhere around here? Why?" Something still didn’t click with Buffy. Hoshi opened another file. "We are helping to protect this man, Doctor Uvante. He has developed a way to reverse the process that renders these people invisible." Hoshi turned in his seat and looked at her with a serious expression on his face. He leaned in close to Buffy before he continued speaking. "You must be something special if she brought you here. Listen carefully to what she says." Buffy made a face. "Yea, I’m so special, you had to screw with my memory. That is so distasteful." Hoshi had a sheepish look on his face and was about to say more, but Ms. Blaize walked into the room and he returned his attention to the computer. "Alright, Buffy, same deal as before. You can leave now, or you can come with me to help out. One of the Unseen is believed to be after someone of importance to us." She clicked her watch again, then met Buffy’s gaze with those cold blue eyes. "You have two minutes to decide." End part three ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Lisa Rose Subject: BUFFYFIC: Another Little Buffy Vacation Spot Date: 23 Oct 1997 19:51:47 -0700 5. JUGULAR PARK: THE LOST WORLD - "When Vampires Ruled the Earth..." reads a sign in the visitors center (a fact the vampires don't like to be reminded of). Remotely-controlled tour vehicles guide visitors past live vampires lurking in re-creations of their natural habitats: graveyards, darkened nightclubs, earthquake-leveled Budapest. "Oh look, on your right, there's a vampire bringing down a human being. Brutal, yes, but Nature in all her majesty!" (Guests are *strongly* advised not to feed the vampires, however cute they may appear to be). Unfortunately, the park has been closed ever since a disgruntled employee turned off the holy water moats, lowered the garlic fences, and opened the cross-encrusted gates, allowing the "residents" to escape. Little Buffy had to be deputized as an honorary "vampherd," rounding up the errant critters, or making "alternate arrangements" for them. (creative contributions by Jesse Jou and Chris C.) Lisa http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: dalton.spence@hwcn.org Subject: BUFFYFIC: Reflections: W.I.F. (04/?) by D.Spence Date: 26 Oct 1997 20:02:10 -0500 (EST) I'M BAAACK!!! Sorry for the delay. Between my father going to the hospital, my parent's toilet breaking flooding half the apartment the same night requiring massive furniture moving and recarpeting, Canadian thanksgiving, a round with the flu and the impending teacher's strike, a move to Sunnydale is looking more attractive every day. Count this chapter as a small miracle. Hope you like it. * * * * * TITLE: Reflections: Warrior...Innocent...Fool AUTHOR: Dalton S. Spence EMAIL ADDRESS: DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only or posted in fanfic archives for general distribution, but must include all disclaimers and copyright notices. SPOILER WARNING: Occurs after "Prophecy Girl" RATING: R - Restricted CONTENT WARNING: This story depicts scenes of violence and/or their aftermath, and a strong love relationship between two consenting adult women. If you are under 18 years of age or if this type of story is illegal in the state or country in which you live, please do not read it. If depictions of this nature disturb you, you may wish to read something other than this story. CLASSIFICATION: C - Crossover with Xena: Warrior Princess SUMMARY: When an evil goddess is accidently released from millennia of captivity, she uses her powers to torment the descendants of her enemies -- Buffy, Willow and Xander. Giles must use an ancient Greek artifact to summon the ancestors who defeated her before -- Xena, Gabrielle and Joxer. DISCLAIMER: Buffy, Giles, the Slayerettes and all other characters who have appeared in the series "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Inc., Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Television, 20th Century Fox Television and the WB Network. Xena, Gabrielle, Joxer and all other characters who have appeared in the syndicated series "Xena: Warrior Princess," together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. No copyright infringement was intended in the writing of this fan fiction. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. Reflections: Warrior...Innocent...Fool (a BtVS/X:WP crossover) by Dalton S. Spence Part 4/? *The Master's Lair, 1540 h PDT* //Well, if that place looked like a madman's treasure room, this one looks like a tomb,// Xena thought as she came to the top of the stairs. She turned to look at the cross guarding the entrance and shuddered in horror. //Or a torture chamber,// she amended mentally, remembering all too well her close encounter with this particular method of execution. Giles saw her expression and correctly (if incompletely) recognizing the reason for it, hastened to explain. "As bizarre as this must seem to you, that cross is recognized as a holy symbol by nearly a third of the people in the world today, and is successfully used to repel the forces of darkness. And before you ask, we do not worship death, but rather the triumph of faith over it. It reminds us of the teachings and the sacrifice made by a man who many believe to be the son of the one true God, and his resurrection on the third day after his execution on the cross." "What of our gods?" asked Joxer, who was deeply disturbed by this news. "Does anyone still worship them?" "Not publicly I'm afraid, although the stories of them and of your times are an integral part of our language and culture. Greece is traditionally considered the cradle of western civilization, and..." Noticing the glazed expression on the others faces, Giles quickly concluded, "Suffice it to say, while your world may be gone, it is *definitely* not forgotten. As to your gods, if they are still around they are keeping a very low profile." "With Callisto on the loose, you can bet that won't last long," Xena said grimly. "She's not the kind to fade discretely out of sight." "I don't care what you say," Gabrielle said as she gazed around the chamber, "there is no way you are going to get me to believe that this is a holy place. It feels ... evil!" "Good call," said a voice from the shadows. "This place is a desecrated temple, used for decades by the most evil of creatures as a headquarters for his schemes. The Master (as he called himself) enjoyed the irony of using a holy symbol to protect his treasures from his ambitious underlings, since only he was strong enough to even briefly resist its power." The speaker stepped into the light, and Gabrielle gasped in surprise (and pleasure). Before her was the most handsome man she had ever seen. //He *must* be one of the newer gods,// she thought, //because he's much too good looking to be mortal.// There was something about him that reminded her very strongly of Xena, something she found extremely attractive. Seeing that their hosts apparently knew this fellow and weren't afraid of him, she impulsively stepped forward and said, "Hi, I'm Gabrielle. And you are?" "Call me Angel," he replied with a smile, somewhat bemused at Gabrielle's boldness. Astutely noticing his beloved's less than enthusiastic reaction to his response, he added, "It's easy to see the origins of Buffy's beauty and courage." "Nice save," murmured Xander, unwillingly impressed by the vampire's quick thinking. Apparently Buffy thought so too, for with a slight nod and a smile she quietly went to the task of closing the door to the treasure room. "Not really," Willow commented wryly. "Buffy might have bought it, but I don't think Xena's too pleased." This analysis was borne out by the warrior princess' rigid stance and grim expression (both of which were mirrored, if less obviously, by Joxer). Turning abruptly to Giles, she asked, "Now that the social amenities are out of the way, where do we go from here?" Thinking quickly, Giles answered, "As you can see, fashions have changed substantially in the last three thousand years. If you went above as you are, you would attract all sorts of unwanted attention. Still, we can't stay here. It's only a matter of time before the Master's minions return here to attempt to salvage *something* from last night's defeat." "They can stay at my place," Angel offered. "It's not too far, I don't have any parents or nosy neighbors to worry about, and we don't have to go above ground to get there. It *is* a bit small, but it would make a good base of operations, at least to start with." "Excellent idea!" approved Giles, "I was about to suggest it myself. It's really the only practical solution." * * * * * Since no one disagreed they set out, and within half an hour arrived at Angel's basement apartment. The trip was uneventful, and Giles (in his role as host to the visitors) spent the time attempting to prepare them for their upcoming contact with the technology of the modern world. He tried very hard to keep the explanations as general and low tech as possible, concentrating on how things appeared and what they did. How successful he was remained problematical; while Gabrielle asked quite a few questions and seemed to understand most of the answers, both Xena and Joxer remained silent. Xena's only comment came after Giles explained electricity as tamed lightning; "No wonder Zeus retired!" As Angel had predicted, it was indeed a bit crowded with eight people standing around, but after a little jostling for position everyone found a comfortable position to sit or stand. There was a brief moment of silence, as everyone waited for someone else to continue the discussion. Surprisingly it was Joxer started the discussion. "What about clothes?" he asked. "We can't just sit around waiting for Callisto to come for us! Not that she wouldn't, but I'd rather that *we* choose the ground for that battle." Giles rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Either Angel or Xander might have something for you, and I think that some of Buffy's clothes will probably fit Gabrielle." Giles turned to Xena, and frowned slightly. "You, however, present a bit of a problem. The few ladies of my acquaintance are not quite so ..." "Large?" supplied Gabrielle helpfully. "I was going to use the term 'statuesque'," countered Giles, "but under the circumstances it seemed slightly less than diplomatic." As the meanings in the statement filtered through the translation spell, Xena started, then with a raised eyebrow and a small smile replied, "As your friend said earlier, good call." A bit more seriously she continued. "If it's a matter of finances, I did not come unprepared. I do hope that gold and silver still have *some* value." She unhooked a leather pouch from her belt, and poured out a small handful of coins. With a slight hesitation Giles carefully picked one of the coins from Xena's hand, and examined it as best he could in the dim light. "I've seen drawings and photographs of coins like this," he said with a tremble in his voice, "but I never dreamed I would ever see one in person, much less hold one. Outside of this room, there can't be more than a dozen like it left in the whole world." Reverently he gave it back to Xena. "That means it's worth a lot of money, right?" Xander asked. "A similar coin was sold in London five years ago for more than two million American dollars. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on your point of view), because of their excellent condition nobody would ever believe these coins were anything except modern replicas, worth only a few hundred dollars for their metal content alone." Seeing the other's disappointment, he quickly added, "This actually works *for* us. The proceeds should be more than enough for our purposes, and we won't draw nearly the attention we would trying to dispose of a world class antiquity." Buffy spoke up. "Sounds like a trip to the mall is in order. My mom set aside some of her out-of-style clothes to be donated to charity. I'm sure I saw an oversize sweatshirt and jogging pants which Xena can wear while we're shopping." "I take it," said Xena, "this mall is some sort of public market?" Buffy nodded. "An indoor market, with dozens of self-contained shops under one roof. Including, I believe," she said looking pointedly at Giles, "a jeweler who buys precious metals." "Good," Xena said, ignoring the incredulous looks of the others, "A market is always the best place to get a feel for what's going on in a new town." //Plus I'll find out just how much freedom your friends are willing to give us,// she thought. While she was fairly certain she had aligned herself with the right side, there was something odd about this Angel person that she didn't entirely trust. "I hope you're not planning to leave me behind," said Gabrielle, "because I tell you right now it's not going to happen." "Double for me," added Joxer, "After all, we're a team, right? Why should you have all the fun?" About to object, Giles suddenly realized that it might be a good thing to have his guests' first exposure to the modern world in a controlled environment like a mall. "I'll agree on two conditions. First, each of you will be accompanied by your respective descendant at all times, who will act as your guide and advisor. Believe me, based on my brief experiences with this American institution, you will need all the help you can get." It seemed like as reasonable precaution to Xena, so she nodded, and the others followed suit. "And second, you must leave your largest weapons here. I'm afraid that not only would swords and a fighting staff draw unwanted attention, they are also quite illegal to carry in public." "Small weapons are permitted then?" Xena asked, reluctantly drawing her sword and laying it on the coffee table. "Actually, no," admitted Buffy, "but if you're discrete about hiding them, there shouldn't be a problem. I know I've never had any. Just try to look harmless." "No problem, I can do that." Noticing the skeptical looks directed her way, Xena blurted, "What?!? You don't believe me?" <-- to be continued --> -- +-------------------------------------------------+ | Dalton S. Spence, B.Sc. | | Home Page: http://www.hwcn.org/~ag775/home.html | +-------------------------------------------------+ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Kimela M Wilker" Subject: BUFFYFIC: Pleasant Dreams Prologe&Pt1/? Date: 26 Oct 1997 01:57:29 -0600 Story: Pleasant Dreams Author: Kimela E-mail: Kimela@writeme.com (Comments and Suggestions are always welcome!) Distribution: Anya and Zandarah, others please ask. Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, they are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc... Author's note: The prologue of Pleasant Dreams takes place during the BTVS epidsode When She was Bad, Part One takes up the Thursday evening immediately following. The story was inspired by a question several friends noted: Why didn't the vampires kill Xander when they abducted the others from the library? Prologue The boy had fought hard-Adrious had to give him credit for that. What he had lacked in strength and skill, he had made up for with sheer determination. He had gone completely berserk when Ohna and a couple of her cronies had grabbed his little girlfriend, the auburn haired lass. If he hadn't been so outnumbered, he might actually have stood a chance against them. He had certainly given them a run for their money, nearly taking down one of the young fledglings before Adrious stepped in, knocking the boy out cold before he even knew the older vampire was present. It was almost a shame to kill him now-he might have become a formidable foe if given the chance. Fortunately, Adrious didn't have a conscience. He lifted the unconscious male and prepared to feast, ignoring the feeble protests of Ohna's captive. "No," the Anointed One stopped him. "But we don't need him!" Adrious objected. "He wasn't with the master when-" "He raised the slayer. Death is too good for him." Adrious reluctantly set the young male back on the floor. He watched curiously as the demon child placed a hand on the boy's chest and uttered some words that he could not comprehend. When finished with the ritual, the Anointed again acknowledged Adrious. "I want him to suffer first." Adrious could respect that. Besides, he could always feed later. He grinned as he picked up the older male captive and carried him from the ruins of the Sunnydale High Library. Part One Willow Rosenberg gazed longingly at the boy sleeping on her living room sofa. The video they had been watching had ended nearly an hour earlier, but she hadn't had the heart to wake him. She loved watching him sleep. He looked so peaceful, so innocent and vulnerable. For as long as she could remember, Willow had been in love with Xander Harris. She had long ago resigned herself to the fact that it would probably always be an unrequited love, but since that night in the park, she had renewed hope. Her pulse quickened as she recalled how close he had come to kissing her. She could still feel his breath on her lips and the soft touch of his hand on her cheek...If only that vampire hadn't chosen that exact moment to make his presence known! Xander had been so brave during that attack. He had been willing to sacrifice himself so that she could escape to safety. Fortunately, he had been able to hold the blood sucker off until Buffy Summers arrived on the scene to rescue him. While she was grateful that Buffy had been there to save them, it disappointed her that the Slayer once again became the focus of Xander's attention. It was, however, a small consolation that he didn't seem nearly as hung up on Buffy as he had been prior to the Slayer's absence during summer vacation. In fact, he had nearly renounced his friendship to the Slayer after she failed to prevent the assault in the library. Had that really been only two nights ago? Willow couldn't remember having ever been as scared as she had been when the vampires had ambushed her, Giles, and Xander that night. While Giles was good at instructing Buffy on defeating vampires and demons, he himself was no fighter. The Watcher had been knocked out could almost immediately. She hadn't fared much better. Three of the fiends had quickly captured and restrained her. Only Xander had put up much of a fight, but even he was no match for them. She still wasn't sure why the Anointed One had spared him, but the child had stopped one of the vampires from feeding on Xander's blood after they had finally subdued him. Even then, she wasn't sure that Xander was all right until it was all over. She remembered being taken to the old warehouse, being knocked out, and then waking up in Xander's arms... Willow's focus returned to Xander as he began to whimper and thrash in his sleep. Beads of sweat appeared on his suddenly pale face. She quickly moved to his side. "Xander?" she called gently, reaching out to cautiously shake him. He jerked away from her touch, as if she had hit him. "Xander?" Again she reached for him. Xander awoke with a gasp. He stared up at Willow, his eyes wide with fright. After a moment, a look of disorientation replaced the terror. "Willow?" Willow smiled down at him. "Welcome back to the land of the living. That must have been some dream you were having." She knelt down beside him, giving him a questioning look. Xander blinked. For a few seconds he appeared lost in thought, then he shook his head. "I...don't know. I can't remember." He ran his fingers through his dampened hair and took a deep breath, pulling himself together. He couldn't recall what the nightmares were about, but since they had started the night of the assault in the library, he had a pretty good guess as to what triggered them. "Are you okay?" Willow asked, obviously concerned. Xander's mouth formed a smile, but Willow noticed that the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah...Sure...Great." He looked away, embarrassed by her scrutinizing stare. "Maybe I should...uh...be getting home. What time is it, anyway?" Willow glanced at her watch. "A little after midnight." Xander's mom would be at work by now. He would be going home to an empty house as usual. But, Willow reasoned, if he was having nightmares, maybe he shouldn't be alone. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here? I can get you a blanket." He sat up. "Nah. I'm okay. I just need to get home, take a shower, and get some sleep..." he trailed off as he gazed down at her worried face. He smiled again, fully this time. "Will, I'm okay," he assured her. "Really." On a whim, he reached out and caressed her cheek. He fought the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss her. He could imagine how that would go over. The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize their friendship. God only knew what she would think if he just kissed her out of the blue...He let his hand linger for just a moment longer, then forced himself to stand up, afraid that he wouldn't be able to resist his impulse much longer. He didn't understand his feelings lately. This was Willow he was thinking about. She was practically a sister to him. And yet...he didn't let his mind complete the thought. Willow watched Xander as he turned to leave. She tensed as a sudden feeling of dread unexpectedly consumed her. All of her instincts told her that she should stop him, make him stay with her. She was sure that something horrible was going to happen to him. She resisted the feeling of panic-she was just being ridiculous. He only lives a few blocks away-nothing is going to happen to him, she tried to reassure herself. She rose to her feet and followed him to the door. It took all of her willpower not to grab him and beg him to stay. Xander turned as he reached the door. "Goodnight, Will," he spoke softly. He pushed open the door, but paused before stepping outside. "Pleasant dreams." And then he was gone. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: sah Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN: List rules Date: 27 Oct 1997 12:56:24 -0600 Welcome! This list is for fiction related to "Buffy The Vampire Slayer," both the TV series and the movie. To ensure that we all get to enjoy as much fiction as possible, please adhere to the following guidelines, and please save them for future reference. 1. Fiction should have Buffy characters in it and clearly be related to Buffy. 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Jill Kirby (jtkirby@mcs.com) & sah (romana@mindspring.com) Listowners, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fiction List buffyfic@xmission.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Kimela M Wilker" Subject: BUFFYFIC: BUFFYFIC Pleasant Dreams 2/? Date: 28 Oct 1997 08:42:04 -0600 Story: Pleasant Dreams Author: Kimela E-mail: Kimela@writeme.com (Comments and Suggestions are always welcome!) Distribution: Zandarah and Anya, others please ask. Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, they are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc... Pleasant Dreams Part Two "Earth to Willow," Buffy quarried. She had been trying to catch her friend's attention since she first spotted her from across the quad, but Willow had been in some sort of a daze. "Huh?" Willow snapped to attention. "Oh. Buffy." The Slayer caught a note of disappointment in her friend's tone. "Hello to you, too. Didn't you hear me calling you?" "Uh...no...sorry," Willow answered, distractedly. "Have you seen Xander?" "No. But then, it's only 8:10. That would make him early. Xander is not especially known for his earliness." One look at her friend's face told Buffy that something was wrong. "What's up?" "I'm sure it's nothing," Willow timidly replied. Buffy could tell that her friend was keeping something from her. "Okay, Willow. Spill." Willow sighed. "It's just that he fell asleep at my place last night and he had kind of a...a nightmare, I guess. Oh, this is stupid..." Buffy felt relieved. If that was all... "He had a nightmare, so now you're worried about him. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You've got it bad, girl. Everyone has a bad dream now and than. Besides, after everything that we've been through, I'm amazed you're not both in therapy," Buffy quipped, hoping to cheer up her friend. Willow was unconvinced. She shook her head. "It's not just that. When he left, I got this feeling that something bad was going to happen to him. I can't explain it. I was scared to let him out of my sight...Like if he left, he might never come back." "Will, I'm sure he's okay. He'll be here. Just you wait." Willow nodded unhappily. With all her heart she wanted to believe the Slayer, but somehow she couldn't. She wouldn't be able to believe it until she saw him for herself. "Heather Gunderson?" "Here!" a petite blonde in the back of the room called out. "Alexander Harris?" No answer. "Alexander?" Mr. Cox repeated, not looking up from his attendance book. When there was still no reply, he put a little x in the `absent' box next to Xander's name. Willow contemplated the empty desk in front of hers. Xander was supposed to be in that chair. She turned to Buffy with a look of helplessness on her face. Buffy was already prepared to reassure her friend. "He overslept. He'll be here." She didn't sound nearly as sure of herself as she had before. Xander was usually late, true, but he also generally managed to be at his desk before roll call. She made a mental note to try to call him after class. Willow, on the other hand, had no intention of waiting until after class to check on him. No way was she going to sit through an hour of lecture while she worried. What if something was really wrong? She couldn't waste a whole hour before doing something about it. She made herself wait until Mr. Cox called her name for attendance. Then, she slipped quietly from the room, knowing full well that the teacher would never notice her absence. "Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up!" Willow pleaded with the phone. She had already let it ring 15 times, but she wasn't yet willing to give up. Her perseverance finally paid off. "Harris residence," Anna Harris answered. She sounded out of breath, as if she had run to get the phone. "Ms. Harris, it's Willow. Is Xander still there?" "Oh, good morning, Willow. I'm not sure-I just got in the door. Did he oversleep? What am I going to do with that boy? Hang on. Let me go get him." Willow closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for Xander's mother to return. "Xan? You up?" she could hear Anna calling him in the background. "Xander?" Willow strained to hear if he replied. "Is he there?" a voice broke into Willow's concentration. She opened her eyes to see Buffy studying her. "His mom is checking." For each minute that passed, Willow's alarm increased. What could possibly be taking so long? Just when she thought she couldn't take the suspense any longer, she heard someone rapidly approaching the phone. Her heart raced in anticipation. To her shock, however, she heard the phone on the other end being slammed down and a dial tone sounded in her ear. She blinked. What was going on? She quickly dialed the Harris residence again. This time, all she got was the busy signal. "Noooo," she moaned. "Willow, what happened?" "I don't know. They hung up. Now it's busy. Buffy, what is going on?" "Come on. Let's go find out." Buffy grabbed the phone from Willow and hung it up. "We'll see if we can borrow the rustmobile from Giles." It was only ten minutes later that they arrived at the Harrises' house, but to Willow it felt like an eternity. To her horror, there were two police cars and an ambulance parked in the driveway. The front door was wide open, so they didn't bother with the formality of knocking. They could hear a commotion from within the basement, where Xander's room was located. "Xander?" Willow called, hurrying down the stairs, ahead of Buffy. Anna Harris met Willow at the bottom of the stairwell. Her eyes were red from crying. "Willow," she sobbed as she pulled the girl into a hug. Willow's heart lurched. Oh, God, he's dead, she thought irrationally. He can't be...he can't be... "What's happened?" Buffy asked, seeing the look of absolute resignation on her friend's face. "Is Xander okay?" "He's-they think he's having some...some sort of drug...drug induced seizure," Anna wept. "We can't snap him out of it." "Drugs?" Buffy sounded doubtful. "But Xander wouldn't..."she looked to Willow to confirm what she was sure she knew. "Of course he wouldn't," Willow agreed. She felt better now that she realized that he was alive. She pulled away from Anna and started toward Xander's room. Anna grabbed her arm. "No, don't. He's...they're trying to restrain him. When I tried to wake him he...it was like he was terrified of me...like I was trying to kill him." She looked powerlessly at Willow. "He was like a wild animal." Buffy and Willow exchanged glances. They had both immediately recalled the time Xander had been possessed by hyenas. Perhaps the problem hadn't been solved after all? But that was months ago, Willow reasoned. Surely he would have shown signs before now. Besides, while he was possessed by hyenas he certainly hadn't seemed afraid of anything. No, this was something else. At last, two disheveled police officers emerged from the bedroom. Both looked quite angry. One was nursing a swollen jaw. "We have the juvenile restrained. Since the substance is unknown, we are unable to sedate him. ETA is 4 minutes," he was speaking into his police radio. He walked past the three women and continued up the stairs. The second officer stopped. Willow glanced at his name tag. Office McCann. He glared at the two girls. "I don't suppose you two know what the boy was taking?" There was an accusatory tone to his voice. "Oh, Xander wouldn't-" Willow began to explain, but the officer cut her off. "Look, we're trying to help your friend. The sooner we know what he's taken, the sooner we'll know how to counteract it." "Look, officer..." Buffy started, ready to give him a piece of her mind. She trailed off as the paramedics emerged from the room with Xander strapped down on their gurney. He was battling the restraints as if he was fighting for his life. His eyes were wild with fear. It was clear that he had no comprehension of what was going on around him. "Let me go, you mother bloodsucker!" Xander growled. Willow leapt forward and reached for him. He screamed hoarsely at her touch. "Shhhh...Xander," she tried to soothe him with a calm voice. He relaxed slightly for a moment, but then tensed as she brushed the hair back from his forehead. She was amazed by how much heat radiated from his body. He had to be running an awfully high fever, which would account for whatever hallucinations he seemed to be having...She moved along side the stretcher until the paramedics loaded it into the ambulance. She tried to climb in after it, but Officer McCann stopped her. "I've got to ask you some more questions. You'll ride with me," Officer McCann informed her coldly. "You can see your friend at the hospital." Willow felt numb as she was led away from the ambulance. She didn't know if she could stand the wait. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Kimela M Wilker" Subject: BUFFYFIC: BUFFYFIC Pleasant Dreams 3/? Date: 28 Oct 1997 08:46:42 -0600 Story: Pleasant Dreams Author: Kimela E-mail: Kimela@writeme.com (Comments and Suggestions are always welcome!) Distribution: Zandarah and Anya, others please ask. Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, they are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc... Rated PG-13 for some violence Pleasant Dreams Part 3 He had laughed in the face of danger, and now Xander was hiding in a small, heavily shadowed cove. He know that he must be having another nightmare, but it seemed to him that he should have waken up hours ago. He remembered setting his alarm, but he must have slept through it. Perhaps he had forgotten to turn it on? Why hadn't his mom wakened him when she got home from work? Oh, God, he wanted to wake up. He had never really been afraid of the dark, but right then, he would have given anything to see the light of day. He had been having nightmares for the past couple of nights, but this was the worst one he had ever endured. He felt like he had faced just about everything that had ever scared him-vampires, snakes, Nazis, Cordelia, you name it, he had faced it. At first he had handled things pretty well. He had learned to face his fears last spring when everyone's nightmares had come to life. The longer this dream had continued, however, the worse it had gotten. He had passed his breaking point hours ago, and now was able only to huddle in his corner and pray that nothing else found him before he woke. He sat on the cold cave floor, his knees drawn to his chest and his back to the wall. He wrapped his arms around his chest partially to try to calm himself, and partly because he was freezing. Xander tensed as he heard something approaching. Please don't let it find me, his mind pleaded. He closed his eyes, not wanting to face whatever was coming. He didn't think he could take any more. "Xander?" a soft voice called. He knew that voice. Willow? She can't be here, he reasoned, because this is only a dream. It had to be a trick. He nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He shrieked and leapt to his feet, nearly knocking Willow over. He couldn't believe his eyes. "Willow?" His voice was weak and shaky. "Xander," she acknowledged. Xander grabbed her into a hug. He had never been so glad to see anyone as he was to see her at that moment. "It's okay, Xander. You're okay." "Are you really here?" She hugged him back as a response. All at once, he felt stronger, as if she had passed some of her energy to him. After what seemed like hours, he released her from his embrace. He felt as though he was strong enough to handle anything. He wasn't alone anymore. "Come on. Let's get out of here." "Where are we?" "I don't know. I thought I was having a nightmare, but if you're here...How did you find me, anyway?" Willow smiled, but didn't answer. Instead, she took his hand and started to lead him from the cove. He noticed, for the first time, that her hand was cold. Considering how chilled he was, he figured that she must have been in the cave even longer than he had been. He wished that he had something to put around her to warm her up. Since he didn't, he pulled her close and put his arms around her. Her whole body was cold against his. "Geez, Will, and I thought I was freezing. We've got to get you warmed up." Xander nearly fell as Willow roughly shoved him away from her. "We don't have time," she said in explanation. "We've got to keep moving." Xander hesitated only a moment before following her out of his hiding place. Her reaction and her strength had thrown him for a loop, but he recovered quickly. "I think I came this way," she announced as she again took his hand and led him down a dark path. "I did get kind of turned around, though." "Me, too," he admitted. "I kind of lost track of where I was going when I was running from..." he trailed off, embarrassed that another stupid clown had frightened him. He had thought he had that fear conquered until everything that had ever scared him bombarded him all in one night. He wondered how much Willow had endured. She seemed to have held up pretty well, whatever had happened to her. He felt self-conscious about the fact that he had been in such a sorry state when she had found him. He quickened his pace so that he was walking in front of her, prepared to be her protector if needed. They walked for several minutes without speaking before Xander started to get unnerved by the quiet. "So, do you suppose Buffy's around here somewhere?" he asked, just to break the silence. He heard Willow sigh irritably behind him. He wondered absently if it was his talking that upset her, or if his mention of the Slayer had somehow annoyed her. They entered a larger cavern. "I mean, if she's here, we should try to find-" Without warning, Willow's hand jerked from his grasp. Xander whirled to face her and was caught completely off guard as she tackled him, knocking him to the floor. Immediately, she was upon him, pinning him helplessly to the floor. He stared up at her in disbelief as her features began to melt. Her auburn hair shriveled and crumbled to dust while her skin darkened and started to crack. At the same time, he could feel her fingernails extending into claws and cutting into his shoulders. As he witnessed her face dissolve into a hideous mass, he became frozen with horror. He made only a strangled gurgling noise in his throat as he tried to scream. "What's the matter, Xander?" the demon that had been Willow hissed, saliva dripping from her still forming jaws. She grinned down at him, her fangs thickening and elongating with every moment that passed. "Aren't I good enough company for you?" Xander struggled to free himself from the demon's grip. He pushed against her with all of his strength, and was appalled to feel his hands breaking through her bubbling flesh and sinking into a putty-like substance. He fought the hysteria that was trying to take hold of him as he grappled with the demon. It was no use, he couldn't fight her. He was going to die... She lowered her face until it was inches from his, paralyzing him with her icy stare. He flinched as she traced his jawbone with one of her sharp talons. "I could kill you right now," she informed him gleefully, deriving immense pleasure from his fear. He felt violently ill as she ran her tongue down his cheek. She laughed maniacally at his revulsion. "Yes, I could kill you, but that wouldn't be much fun, would it?" Xander's instincts told him that death would be the most merciful fate this demon would offer him, but he didn't want to die. He tried once again to fight his way out from beneath her. To his surprise, after only a moment she released him. She smirked at him as he scrambled to get out of her reach. "Better run, Xander," she teased. "I might have a change of heart." Now that he was momentarily free from her, Xander's fear turned to anger. He didn't like being a demon's plaything. He turned to face her again and was astonished to find himself alone. Had he imagined the whole thing? Was he going crazy? He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, calming himself down. One thing remained clear in his mind. He had to get out of there. He had to wake up, or if, God forbid, he wasn't dreaming, he had to find the way out of the cave. There was no way he was going to permit himself to deteriorate back into the spineless coward that he had allowed himself to become. If he was going to die, it was going to be fighting, not cowering. With new resolve, Xander chose one of the path's leading out of the cavern, hoping that it would prove to be the way out. He walked for only a few minutes before he sensed that something was watching him. He tensed, preparing himself to fight whatever came his way. "Come out, you loser," he muttered. He'd be damned if he was going to let whatever was out there scare him. "Xan? You up?" a voice that sounded like his mother echoed through the passage. "Xander?" For a split second Xander felt intense relief. It was over. His mom was waking him up, in a moment his eyes would open and- The sound of the demon's maniacal laughter ruined his moment of ease. "Fool," she hissed in his ear. He spun to face her, and instantly found himself flat on his back, pinned once again beneath her. She grinned down at him. "Wake up, Xander," she jeered, using his mother's voice. "Come on, Xan." Xander became enraged. He started growling and clawing at the demon, trying to find some sort of weak spot so that he could hurt her. She grabbed his arms and pinned them back down, amused by his feeble efforts. "Hang in there, Xander, I'm going for help. I can't do this on my own," she teased. As abruptly as she had appeared, she retreated. For a few minutes, Xander lay still, not sure if it was worth the effort to keep moving. He was sure that she wasn't finished toying with him. She was probably waiting for him to start feeling safe again, then she would be back. This time, he was going to be ready for her. With new determination he stood up and scanned the cave floor for something that he could use for a weapon. The only thing that he could find was a large stone. He stooped to pick it up. When he rose to his feet he found himself surrounded by vampires. He looked them over apprehensively. "Five to one...I'd say that's pretty fair." He lunged at the first one, smashing the rock into it's face. It howled and pulled back, clutching it's jaw. The other four descended upon him. One of them grabbed his wrists and pried the rock from his grasp. A second quickly moved behind him, trying to wrap its arms around him. He borrowed a move from Buffy and smashed the vampire with the back of his head. It fell back against the cave wall and collapsed to the ground in a heap. "Like a charm..." His victory was short lived. The other three vampires were all over him, knocking him to the floor and kneeling on his outstretched limbs. He struggled against them, but the odds were not in his favor. He fought the best that he could, but it soon became apparent that they had him pretty much in their control. They bound him to some sort of a board, careful to keep his arms pinned to his sides and his legs immobile. "Go tell them we're on our way," one of his captors ordered the bloodsucker who had taken the blow to the jaw. "With pleasure," it responded and headed down the dark corridor, followed by a second vampire. The other three hovered over him, picking him up. He strained against his bonds, praying that he would get loose before they reached their destination. "Take it easy," one of them hissed in his ear. "We'll take good care of you..." He began to panic again as they started to carry him back toward the cavern where he had first fought the demon. He didn't want to face her again. "Let me go, you mother blood sucker!" He exerted every muscle in his body in a war against the ropes. Suddenly the demon was hovering over him again. He cried out as it grabbed his arm. It had resumed Willow's form. "Shhhh...Xander," she soothed in an amazingly convincing Willow voice. For an instant he actually found himself believing that it was Willow and he relaxed a little. She laughed at his foolishness and transformed back to its true appearance. Mortals could be so easy to manipulate... For several minutes he remained strapped to the board as they carried him deep into their lair. When at last they reached their destination, they set him down on a large stone table, but didn't untie him. He saw the vampires conversing with the demon for a few moments before all but one of them left the cove. The remaining fiend moved to his side. It sneered at him. "I need to give your blood a little test." Its grin widened as it started leaning toward his neck. He tried to bash it with his head, and succeeded in backing it away from his exposed neck. The bloodsucker scowled at him. "Fine, have it your way." It bent down, and sank its teeth into Xander's arm. Xander squirmed, but he was powerless to keep the vampire from sucking blood from his bound arm. The longer the vampire drank, the weaker he felt. After a few minutes, he began to lose consciousness, convinced that he would either never waken, or that he would wake up without his soul. He wondered briefly if Buffy would slay him. Then everything went blank. When he woke, he found that he had been untied from the board, but that his arms and legs had been chained to the stone table. The demon was staring intently into his face. She smiled darkly down at him. "Oh good, I was hoping you would wake up. It's a lot more fun to kill when you can get a reaction. So...Xander...How would you like to die?" She ran her talon across his chest. "Perhaps with a kiss?" He struggled as she lowered her face to his, covering his mouth with hers. His first reaction was revulsion, which quickly subsided to panic as she began to suck the air from his lungs. He couldn't breathe. His chest tightened. For a few minutes he felt as though his heart was going to explode, then all at once, he felt no pain. He was fading from reality. He felt as if he was floating. He could see himself lying strapped to the table with the demon standing over him. She stepped back and contemplated his still body. She smiled. "Such a fragile thing, human life," she mused. She placed her cold hands on his chest and sent a shock of electricity through him. All at once he was back in his body looking up at her. "That was good, but I don't think I'm ready to part with you just yet." She laughed as he gasped for air. "Welcome back, pet." She stroked his hair. "It's been a rough day, hasn't it...Why don't you get some rest and I'll be back to play with you later?" She ran her hand over his face, closing his eyes. Xander wanted to argue, wanted to make her let him go, but he was so weak that he could only comply by falling into a deep dark sleep. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: perridox@enteract.com (Perri Smith) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Reflections (1/1) Date: 28 Oct 1997 21:48:45 -0600 (CST) Ms. Calendar has decided to start talking to me. Joy. Like I don't have enough else to do. *sigh* Set during 'Some Assembly Required'. Big thanks to Valerie, Tina, and Christina, for invaluable contributions. And I'm quite pleased to say this was written well before 'Halloween' aired. All characters are property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only. Reflections by Perri Smith Copyright 1997 Who knew? I mean, who could possibly have known? At the time, it had seemed like nothing out of the ordinary -- a new student and a new librarian, both showing up after the start of the school year, and within a few days of each other. No big. And if the student had a rather... colorful reputation and the librarian was a too-perfect-to-be-believed stereotype of a British scholar.... Well, that made it all the less likely that they could be connected. Truth be known, I hadn't really paid much attention to either of them at first. Giles made a habit of hiding out in his library, as if he was afraid to step foot outside his precious books into the real world. And Buffy... if my star pupil hadn't become her best friend, I doubt I would have given her a second thought, since she wasn't in any of my classes. That's how they get away with it, with keeping such a massive secret from everyone around them. Who would suspect staid, proper Giles of believing in anything so outlandish and impractical as vampires? Or that a known troublemaker and partygirl like Buffy made a habit of fighting them? Who would suspect that blonde little Buffy was capable of risking her life to save the world? Or that Giles could pick up a weapon, be it a book or a sword, and determinedly help her? I shake my head and adjust my ponytail in the mirror for the fourth or fifth time. I just can't seem to get it to look right tonight. I've always thought of myself as more perceptive than your average bear -- a people reader, who can take one look at someone and give you a pretty accurate rundown on who and what they are. I used to pride myself on that ability, until it was conclusively proven that I could be just as blind as anyone else in Sunnydale. I like to think that, eventually, I would have noticed Giles as something other than the guy lurking in the corners of every teachers meeting he was forced to attend. I like to think that, eventually, I'd have looked beneath the tweed and the sweater vests and seen the man I'm starting to understand is there. But I don't know. Oh, I enjoyed harrassing him, when I got the chance; I'm not going to try to deny that. We're total opposites on the surface, which makes him an easy target. But there just hadn't been all that much interaction between us until my computer class wound up scanning books in his library. I keep telling myself that, hoping it'll make me feel like less of an idiot. If Moloch the Corrupter hadn't wound up in the Sunnydale High School computer system.... If Giles and Buffy had figured out a way to stop him on their own.... If Giles hadn't need my Circle to exorcise him.... My sweater seems too bright in the overhead light. School colors, rah, rah. Do I look too juvenile? I like yellow... Does he? Gods, I sound like I'm Buffy's age again. Now there's a terrible thought. I probably would have found out in time, of course. I'd already begun to have my suspicions about the body count, as student after student died. Dave and Fritz's deaths would have been the ones that forced me to investigate on my own, and I like to think I'd have figured things out sooner or later. Oh, probably not about the Slayer and her Watcher. But about the vampires and the Hellmouth, at the very least. Would I have tracked the vampires back to Buffy and Giles? Here's where my ability to kid myself hits a brick wall. No, I probably wouldn't have. Like I said, they're both damned good at playing their roles -- although Buffy still slips up now and again. Giles has had longer to practice, I suppose; I wonder how much of his librarian facade is really him, and how much is just camoflague, picked up and polished over the years? I wonder if even he knows anymore. Maybe I would have figured out Buffy was involved; between her reputation and the sheer volume of weaponry she tends to carry around, the pieces would have clicked sooner or later. And if they hadn't, Willow or Xander would have given it away. Or maybe not. They've both grown into their role of Slayerettes, as I've heard Willow refer to herself. If I look back to just the beginning of last semester, I can see the change in them both. Willow obviously, since I've seen her every day of school for the last two years -- her once- paralyzing shyness has all but disappeared, worn more like a habit now than because she's truly afraid. She speaks up for herself, and doesn't cower in fear of Cordelia anymore. And the quiet, unassuming little hacker takes on vampires and demons with barely more than a flinch. Part of me worries about her -- on the surface, she's the least suited to be doing this. But part of me suspects she's stronger than any of us. To bang or not to bang? I fuss with them, flipping them first on, then off my forehead. Neither way satisfies me tonight; I settle for something in between. It's only a football game after all. And dinner. It's not like it's a real date. Xander. Now there's another one I never paid much attention to. He avoids the computer lab with almost the same intensity that Giles does, although in his case, it's an allergy to classrooms rather than to computers. If I'd had to think about him, I probably wouldn't have bothered to do much more than put him in something labelled, 'Student, male, 16, annoying.' But I remember his face the night we thought Buffy was going to die, the sheer, adult resolve as he headed out to do whatever he had to to save his friend. I know, now, that he tracked down Angel, quite possibly the person he dislikes most in the world, on the off-chance that Angel could take him to the Master, on the off-chance that the two of them together could defeat a vampire king. Reckless? Yes. Stupid? Hell yes, even *he* admits that. Brave? Undeniably. Then there was the way he and Angel rescued the four of us -- me, Giles, Willow, and Cordelia -- when the Anointed One tried to sacrifice us. The boy got us free, then cradled Willow in his arms until she woke, as if he could protect her by sheer force of will. And Angel -- Gods, now there's a book to judge by its cover. A vampire, one a couple of centuries old, who looks like a college student and acts more like Giles than either of them would like to admit. I just don't want to go there, really. I'll have to, eventually -- judging from the looks he and Buffy exchange, he's here to stay, and it doesn't look like I'm getting out of this any time soon. But I think I'll put it off for a while. My worldview has been challenged enough lately, thanks. Okay, my hair looks stupid, but it's not going to get any better. At least my outfit looks pretty good -- attractive without being obvious, and definitely suitable for a football game. It had better be, it's the third one I've tried on. It's something about Buffy, I think; everyone who wanders into her sphere of influence finds themselves being stripped down to essentials and put back together. Sure, part of it is that whole life-and-death- situations thing, but part of it.... I don't know. Maybe it's seeing her risk herself for no other reason than because she's the only one who can. It makes you feel ashamed, and guilty, and challenged at this basic level. Like 'If she can do it, so can you, and by the way, why aren't you?' Then there's just the force of her personality, which carries you along whether you want to go or not. I've seen her eyes laughing as she teases Giles, troubled as she deciphers prophecies, young and in love as she looks at Angel, and hard and determined as she heads out to kill. In another age, she could have been dangerous -- started crusades or simply overthrown kingdoms. Here and now, she slays vampires and flunks history. Destiny's weird that way. I guess it's a good thing she does have vampires to slay; otherwise those kingdoms might start looking pretty good just out of boredom... Oh, damn, I'm late. The game starts at 8:00, so I need to pick Rupert up at 6:30 so we can get dinner. This was suppose to be a quick, run in, change clothes, run back out stop. Instead, here I am, fussing in front of the mirror like a high schooler with her first crush. Why am I letting him do this to me? Okay, I know why. It's because of his voice when he cast the spell to take Moloch out of the 'Net. It's because of how he plays with his glasses when he can't think of anything to say, and defends his 'musty old books' to the death, and is scared to death of computers. It's because of the look on his face when he told Buffy he would defy prophecy to face the Master for her. It's because of his expression when the kids left him today, and because of his adorable efforts to ask me out. If Willow hadn't warned me ahead of time.... Gods, but he was cute, stammering and almost blushing and trying desperately *not* to sound like an uptight Brit (I sense Buffy's hand in that). I almost -- *almost* -- left him dangling; I admit it, I wanted him to do the work. Sadistic, true, but it seemed fair. But his face just dropped when I headed into my class, and he looked like so pathetic. This man I'd seen pick up an axe to face a monster from the Black Lagoon looked like a kicked puppy because he couldn't find the words to ask me out. I didn't have a prayer. This is probably a bad idea. A *really* bad idea. Giles is right in the middle of a life that could easily get him killed, or leave him a crumbled wreck if something ever happens to Buffy. His life is centered around her and around vampires, and I'm standing here contemplating trying to find a place for myself in that center. I must be out of my mind. But he turned to look for me first thing, when Xander and Angel rescued us from the Anointed One. And I sometimes catch this look in his eyes that makes my heart skip a beat, as cliched as that sounds. Of all the men in all the world, why did I have to fall for this one? Okay, enough of this. One last mirror check, then get in the car, pick up Giles, enjoy watching him pretend he likes football, and just don't *worry* about anything else. With luck, we'll have a nice dinner and some good conversation (or a few arguments, which is pretty much the same thing, as far as I'm concerned), nothing supernatural will happen, and maybe he'll get up the nerve to kiss me goodnight. Or maybe I'll kiss him. Who knows? Perri I *am* the Buffy Evangalist! NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ "I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander - ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Syzygy17@aol.com Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: Reflections (1/1) Date: 29 Oct 1997 12:44:46 -0500 (EST) Oh. That was so very. Please. Send MORE. Thank You Much, -Syz - ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Kimela M Wilker" Subject: Re[2]: BUFFYFIC: Pleasant Dreams Date: 29 Oct 1997 13:42:36 -0600 Hi Syz. Thanks! Parts 1-4 of the story are posted on Zandarah's Slayerette FanFic Site (www.geocities.com/~zandarah) and I hope to have parts 5 & 6 up sometime this weekend. Thanks for reading & letting me know what you thought! (I live for feedback :D) Kimela - ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Kimela M Wilker" Subject: BUFFYFIC: BUFFYFIC Pleasant Dreams 4/? Date: 29 Oct 1997 17:04:17 -0600 Story: Pleasant Dreams Author: Kimela E-mail: Kimela@writeme.com (Comments and Suggestions are always welcome!) Distribution: Zandarah and Anya, others please ask. Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, they are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc... Pleasant Dreams Part 4 It had been one of the longest days of Willow's life. The ride to the hospital with Officer McCann had been horrible. He had asked her all sorts of embarrassing questions about Xander, about her, about their relationship, but mostly about their activities from the night before. He was unimpressed by her tale of Xander's nightmare-all he wanted to hear was what sort of drugs Xander might have ingested. The questions hadn't ended when they reached the hospital. Instead, McCann had started asking them all over again, this time with one of Xander's doctors listening in. Neither one had believed Willow when she again insisted that she and Xander had done nothing wrong. The doctor even warned her that they were doing a blood test and the results would confirm what they already suspected. "You're only slowing down his treatment," they had accused her. They hadn't stopped hounding her until the lab results came back negative nearly an hour later. Neither one apologized as they finally allowed her to go join Buffy and Anna in the waiting room. For the next couple of hours, the three women had waited without word of Xander's condition. Then Buffy had lost her patience, cornered one of the nurses and convinced her that `a little information would be a good thing.' The nurse didn't know much, but she was able to tell them that they had given Xander some sedatives to calm him down after he had attacked one of the other nurses for checking his blood pressure. She had promised that she would keep them better informed of his progress. A flurry of activity in the middle of the afternoon had alerted the women that something had gone horribly wrong. "He's going to be okay," the nurse assured them, making sure they were calm before she continued. "He stopped breathing and his heart stopped momentarily, but he's a fighter and they've got it going strong again." His heart stopped? Willow couldn't accept it. Xander was young, strong, and until today, healthy. How could his heart have stopped? When they had been informed, a few minutes later, that Xander had slipped into a coma, Buffy managed to convince the nurse to let Anna sit with him. Anna hugged the two girls and disappeared into her son's room. Soon after that, Buffy left. She had to return the car to Giles and meet her mother for dinner. She promised Willow that she would be back as soon as her slayer duties allowed. Willow had called home shortly after five to alert her parents that she would not be home for dinner. The Rosenbergs immediately came to the hospital to wait with their daughter. Xander had practically been part of the family for years, and they wanted to be there to support Willow. They stayed until it became clear that they would not be allowed in to see him. They tried to convince Willow to come home with them, but she was determined not to leave until she had seen him, and knew for sure that he would be okay. Her parents gave her permission to stay as long as she wanted, and offered to come get her if she changed her mind, no matter how late she wanted to call. Anna had to leave shortly after nine. She wanted to skip work and stay with Xander, but she couldn't afford the loss of pay, especially not with new bills to consider. She stopped to see Willow in the waiting room before she left. She had little news to report about Xander's condition, only that he had opened his eyes, but was still unresponsive. Doctors had been in and out of the room all day, running all sorts of tests, but they had yet to find out what was causing Xander's state of being. It was only after Willow had paced the waiting room floor alone for several hours that one of the night nurses at last took pity on her and allowed her access to Xander's room. It was a shock to see him lying still and pale on the hospital bed. He had been hooked up to all sorts of monitors, and the doctors had tied his limbs down to keep him from pulling wires loose and to keep him from fighting with the hospital staff should he have another seizure. Even more unnerving to Willow was that his eyes, which normally sparkled with vitality, appeared dull and lifeless. She sank down in the chair beside his bed, the stress of the day taking its toll. Even now that she had seen him she wasn't able to truly relax. She didn't think she would be able to rest until she found out what was wrong with him and was positive that he would be okay. She watched him closely, feeling slightly better each time his chest rose and fell. "What will I ever do if you're not okay?" she asked him silently. "I don't think I could live without you. You have no idea what you really mean to me, do you? Of course you know that you are my best friend. You are the best friend I could ever ask for. You're there for me whenever I need you, wherever I need you. There is no one in this world that I trust as completely as I trust you, Xander. I don't know if I will ever love anyone quite the way that I love you. I don't know if I even want to. I know you don't love me the same way, but that doesn't even matter." Willow wished she had the nerve to really tell Xander how she felt-when he was actually awake and well enough to listen. She supposed that it was pretty pathetic that she felt comfortable telling him pretty much anything other than how she adored him. She knew that he would never intentionally hurt her, but she was so afraid that the admission would push him away, make him feel uncomfortable being around her. That would hurt more than anything else she could imagine. She needed him to be close. Actually, right now, what she needed was to be close to him, needed to assure herself that he was truly going to live. She crawled onto the bed next to him, careful not to dislodge any of the monitors. The heat his body emitted indicated that he was still fighting to stay alive. She stroked his hair and stared down at his face. "Come on, Xander," she whispered. "You've got to wake up. I need you..." Exhausted from a day of constant worry, she laid her head against his chest and fell asleep, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart. -