From: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com (buffyfic Digest) To: buffyfic-digest@xmission.com Subject: buffyfic Digest V1 #16 Reply-To: buffyfic@xmission.com Sender: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com Errors-To: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com Precedence: buffyfic Digest Sunday, August 24 1997 Volume 01 : Number 016 In this issue: BUFFYFIC: Secret World of Willow (02/?) by D.Spence BUFFYFIC: MiB: Hellmouth (02/?) by D.Spence BUFFYFIC: Reflections: W.I.F. (02/?) by D.Spence BUFFYFIC: Gone 3: The God of Nine Walls 1/? by JJ See the end of the digest for information on subscribing to the buffyfic or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Sun, 24 Aug 1997 11:35:30 -0400 (EDT) From: dalton.spence@hwcn.org Subject: BUFFYFIC: Secret World of Willow (02/?) by D.Spence TITLE: The Secret World of Willow Rosenberg 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: PG13 CONTENT WARNING: This story depicts scenes of violence and/or their aftermath. If depictions of this nature disturb you, you may wish to read something other than this story. CLASSIFICATION: C - Crossover with "The Secret World of Alex Mack" SUMMARY: The new girl at Sunnydale has a weird secret all her own - one that Willow will soon share. 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 Warner Brothers Television Network. Alex Mack, her family, Danielle Atron and all other characters who have appeared in the series "The Secret World of Alex Mack" together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of Viacom International, MTV Networks, Nickelodeon Television Network, Nickelodeon Productions, Hallmark Entertainment, and Lynch Entertainment. 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. I'm too broke to be sued, anyway. (But if anybody thinks my literary skill presents that much a risk, feel free to *HIRE* me!) * * * * * The Secret World of Willow Rosenberg (a BtVS/SWAM crossover) by Dalton S. Spence "I guess I'm not so ordinary anymore." - Alex Mack *Part 2* "Careful," Alex told a nervous Willow who was guiding a small rubber ball through a makeshift obstacle course of suspended coat hangers. They were on their lunch break, and while the library was still officially closed for repairs, Mr. Giles had let them use it for practice as long as they kept away from the construction area. "Don't over control. It will go where you want it to as long as you visualize clearly." As the little red ball floated through the third hanger Xander entered the library and stopped, both amazed and amused by his friend's new ability. "Way to go, Willow!" he exclaimed, and was promptly rewarded by the ball impacting on his forehead as Willow, who had been visualizing it on the end of a rod of force, turned to greet him. Stifling the urge to giggle at Xander's stunned expression, Alex told them, "Don't worry about it. When I was just starting out, Ray used to keep a catcher's mitt handy whenever he walked in a room where Annie was testing my powers." Concentrating for a second, she floated the ball off the the floor, and into Willow's outstretched hand. "Try again, and this time, instead of considering the power a physical extension of yourself, think of programming the ball to go to a certain destination along a certain path, like controlling a model airplane." "Or routing a file through the internet!" Willow exclaimed, as she translated the concept into familiar terms. Shutting everything else out of her mind, she concentrated on the desired flight path, and was as surprised as anyone else when the ball darted out of her hand, zipped through the obstacle course, and after a couple of orbits around the heads of Alex and Xander sailed over to Giles' office and landed with a satisfying *clink* in an empty teacup left on his desk. After a moment of stunned silence, her two spectators rewarded her performance with enthusiastic applause, causing Willow to briefly *glow* with embarrassment. "Very impressive," commented Alex, pleased with the progress her student had shown so far. "It took a week for me to learn that much control, and you mastered it in a day." "That's my Willow," exclaimed Xander proudly, "always the genius." This praise made Willow glow even brighter, causing Xander to cast a worried glance at her instructor. "Alex, should she be glowing like that?" "Relax, it's just a blush response. Anything that made her blush before (embarrassment, excitement or physical exertion) will make her glow now." "Anything?" asked Xander with a gleam in his eye. "Anything, which means no more teasing her in public," said Alex with mock severity. Casting a meaningful glance at the library door, she added, "Or in private, for that matter, unless you can be *absolutely* sure no one will walk in. It's a pain, I know. You wouldn't believe the crimp it's put in my social life." "At least that's one problem I won't have," sighed Willow. "The last guy who was interested in me turned out to be a demon that had been scanned into the internet." "You're kidding, right?" Seeing from Willows morose expression that she wasn't, Alex blurted out, "But I thought you and Xander ..." "Whoa, back up there!" Xander said quickly. "Will and I have known each other forever. We're best buds, sure, like brother and sister, but that's all!" Since his back was to Willow at that moment, he missed Willow's glowing response to his vehement denial, and the brief look of anguish in her eyes. Alex, however, didn't miss any of it. "Okay, if you say so," she responded skeptically, thinking, //It must be a Hellmouth thing, some curse that prevents guys from really seeing her.// Just then, Buffy entered the library with Mr. Giles, and Alex watched as Xander turned to Buffy like a puppet on a string. //Nah, I guess it's just the combination of familiarity and hormones, I guess. Why do guys have to be so dumb?// "How's it going, guys?" asked Buffy, seeming disgustingly cheerful considering the long night they had put in. How these people went out slaying vampires every night and still managed to do school beat her. Alex had barely been able to drag herself bed this morning after the long discussion they had had before Mr. Giles had called a halt at 3 AM. Fortunately the house that the Macks were renting until they found more permanent place was just down the street from the Rosenberg place, so it hadn't taken long for her to get home. "The TK training is coming along fine," answered Willow, trying to be humble but justly proud of her accomplishments. "Excuse me," interrupted a puzzled voice from Mr. Giles' office, "but why is there a rubber ball in my teacup?" * * * * * In the principal's office, Mr. Snyder was having a very bad day. This morning he had attended a breakfast meeting with the head of the Sunnydale school board, where had received confidential orders. Because of his lack of success at stemming the tide of `incidents' at the school, he was now forced to conduct a series of interviews for the position of school security officer. Unfortunately, word had gotten out that at least two staff members had died particularly horrible deaths, and another had nearly been murdered, so the only ones applying for the job were the stupid and the desperate. So far, the only applicant that came close to acceptability was the man seated in front of him. Personally, Snyder was rather impressed with him; his military bearing and professional attitude struck a sympathetic chord in the strict disciplinarian. Still, there were a couple of items in the resume that concerned him. "I see that after ten years of working for the same company and rising to the post of security chief, you left the company a year ago to become an `independent security consultant'. Why?" Expecting some weak excuse, he was a bit surprised when the applicant admitted, "I was dismissed for incompetence." He paused, then asked, "May I be frank?" "Please do," replied Snyder, thinking, //This is going to be good!// He wasn't disappointed. "The last year I was working for the company, I became involved in the security for a highly classified project. There was a rather severe security breech, and I was ordered to commit several criminal acts in order to contain it. This I found myself unable to do, and as a result was terminated. Because the company could not admit the real reason they fired me, they ordered the company psychologist to declare me mentally unstable. This not only ruined my professional reputation (which to that point had been spotless), but made sure that any accusations I made against them would be considered merely spite or paranoid delusions. For the last year I've tried to uncover the proof that would clear me, but so far my every effort has been unsuccessful." Snyder looked at him shrewdly. "This sudden desire to relocate to Sunnydale wouldn't have anything to with your previous employer opening up shop here, would it?" Again, the man surprised him by his honesty. "That *WAS* a factor, I admit. At the home office, nearly everyone in town worked for the company, and those who don't make their living from those who do. Here, at least, the company isn't *GOD*. But this wasn't the main reason." "Oh, and what was?" "As I was checking Sunnydale out, and read the newspaper reports of your -- troubles -- I realized that my quest for vindication had made me forget that there were people out there who really needed my skills and training. Not to improve the figures on a profit or loss statement, but just to be safe to lead their normal lives. I want to get my life back on track, and this seems like the best way." In the normal course of events, Principal Snyder would have given this amazing story all the attention it deserved (namely, NONE), but as you know, NORMAL has very little to do with Sunnydale at the best of times. In a sincere attempt to get some sort of handle on the mayhem happening at his school, the beleaguered principal had taken to watching *far* to much `X-Files', and was quite susceptible to a story of sinister conspiracy and a lone hero trying to expose it. In his mind, he was picturing himself as Skinner to the other's Mulder. (The lack of a Scully didn't bother him at all.) As far as he was concerned, he had found his man. He touched a button on his intercom and told his secretary, "Cancel the rest of the interviews." He stood up and offered his hand to the man in front of him. "There are a few formalities to complete, and the board has to approve it, but unless something unexpected comes up, you can consider yourself hired. Welcome aboard, Mr Carter." The former head of security for Paradise Valley Chemical also rose to his feet and with a smile shook the hand of his latest employer. "Believe me sir, you won't be sorry. And please, call me Vince." * * * * * As Danielle Atron looked at the photographs on her desk, she felt the beginning of what promised to be a monumental headache. The security report on the incident at the new site had just arrived, and the conclusions of the chief investigator gave her a distinct feeling of deja vu. "Kids. All the time, it's *KIDS!*" "Teenagers to be specific, according to the size of the footprints, and the distinctive tread pattern. Almost brand new. At least three separate pairs from the IR scans. From our reconstruction of events, they entered through the sewer -- we have sealed that access by the way -- and proceeded to engage in combat with another group, number and nature unknown. During the fighting, at least one of the teenagers was thoroughly contaminated. The other group apparently escaped, and the teenagers followed them." The investigator had rather different ideas about that, but wasn't about to share them without more evidence than some piles of ash and a wooden stake. "Don't worry ma'am, we'll find them. I'll stake my job on it!" "You just did," she replied coldly. "Don't disappoint me." - -- +-------------------------------------------------+ | Dalton S. Spence, B.Sc. | | Home Page: http://www.hwcn.org/~ag775/home.html | +-------------------------------------------------+ ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 24 Aug 1997 11:35:25 -0400 (EDT) From: dalton.spence@hwcn.org Subject: BUFFYFIC: MiB: Hellmouth (02/?) by D.Spence TITLE: MiB: The Hellmouth Incident 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" and IMMEDIATELY after the movie "Men in Black" RATING: PG13 CONTENT WARNING: This story depicts scenes of violence and/or their aftermath. If depictions of this nature disturb you, you may wish to read something other than this story. CLASSIFICATION: C - Crossover with "Men in Black" SUMMARY: Reports of the possible presence of an unregistered time- space anomaly bring Jay and Elle to Sunnydale, California where they discover there are things even MiBs find hard to believe. 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 Wheadon, Mutant Enemy, Inc., Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Television, 20th Century Fox Television and the Warner Brothers Television Network. Jay, Elle, Zed and all other characters who have appeared in the motion picture "Men in Black" together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of Columbia Pictures, Amblin Entertainment, MacDonald/Parkes Productions, and Malibu Comics. 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. MiB: The Hellmouth Incident a "BtVS/Men in Black" crossover by Dalton S. Spence *Part 2* Elle was in a bit of quandary. She was still just a rookie with the Black, and whatever had scared Jay *had* to be pretty terrible. Ignoring her prone partner for the moment, she turned back to the victim of the attack. There was nothing obviously frightening about her at first glance; the human diguise was that of a middle aged caucasian woman, approximately 150 cm tall with grey hair tied back in a tight bun, a mean face (even in repose), and cat's-eye glasses. Elle turned the "woman's" head to the right, and saw (as she had half expected to) two puncture marks on the neck. However, what dribbled from the wound in no way resembled human blood -- it was a bright (almost fluorescent) orange, and smelled like a strong fruit liqueur. //Titanian, probably an educational missionary,// Elle thought, suddenly very glad she'd taken up Zed's offer of first aid training for the top ten client races. `Giles' had been right, but for the wrong reason; where he had probably thought the victim's pulse has high and thready, for a Titanian it was frighteningly slow. If something wasn't done immediately to wake her up and get her moving, she would lapse into a metamorphic coma and wake five years later with an altered sex. The `blood' loss was a trivial issue, since Titanians needed very little to survive; it was the psychological shock of the attack that was the greatest danger. "Will Mrs. Edelson be all right?" asked the blond girl. "She will, if we can wake her up," said Elle. "Is there any garlic in that thing?" she asked, pointing at a leather valise sitting on the ground a few feet away, with end of a wooden stake sticking out. "Why, yes," answered the man, "but what ..." Elle got to her feet and stepping around her partner (who was just beginning to come to) ran to their car, yelling over her shoulder, "Crush a few cloves and hold them under her nose. They'll act as smelling salts." Wrenching open the back door, she pulled open a hidden drawer under the back seat, revealing twelve colour coded plastic boxes. Ignoring the silver stasis kit (the situation wasn't that bad yet), she grabbed the bright orange one and ran back to the others. Jay and Mrs. Edelson were both sitting up by this time, with Jay shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, and Mrs. Edelson sneezing and coughing at the smell of the garlic. Elle opened the Titanian first aid kit, loaded the automatic pneumatic spray hypo with the general stimulant, set it to a single dose, and injected their contact right in the center of her forehead. Although her training had prepared her for the reaction, even she was impressed by the result. Mrs. Edelson leaped a good ten feet in the air, landed on her hands, did a couple of back flips and three cartwheels, then came to a complete halt and let loose an enormous belch. Then, after taking a moment to adjust her dress and glasses (the latter having amazingly remained perched on her nose thoughout the acrobatics), she calmly walked toward Elle as if nothing unusual had happened, as prim and as proper as any school teacher who had ever lived. "Thank you my dear," she said, extending her hand with an infinitesimal smile, "I believe I really needed that." "Would someone *PLEASE* tell me what is going on?" pleaded Giles, who was growing more confused by the minute. Aside from the vampire which Buffy had quickly dealt with, nothing he had seen tonight made any sense at all. Which was perfectly understandable, given that the bulk of his time was spent studying the supernatural. "Oh, I get it," said Buffy, who with her background in popular American culture had quickly analysed the situation, "Mrs. Edelson is an alien, and these two are government agents sent to meet her." Jay and Elle looked at each, then with a tired sigh they reached into their pockets and pulled out their shades. Before Jay could put his on, he felt a familiar hand on his arm. "Tsk, Tsk. You are still just as impatient as you were in the third grade. Have you not yet learned to ask questions *before* you act, young man? You may make me regret recommending you for this job in the first place." Jay had faced a giant alien cockroach bent on starting intergalactic war with less trepidation than he had facing the diminutive teacher who had terrified every third grader in his class, and made his life a living hell. Then the sense of what she had said struck home. "*YOU* recommended me for the job? I thought that Kay..." "Kay was a good man, a brilliant operative, and an excellent judge of character, but without my recommendation to back him up you wouldn't even have got in the door. In over thirty years of trying to introduce the young minds of the this planet to the rudiments of intelligent thought, you were the first and only human with not only the imagination to concieve that I might not be from this world, but the courage to believe it and tell others about it." She paused for a moment, then added, "Of course, it would been nicer if you had gotten the planet right." Although you would never get Jay to admit it, Mrs. Edelson was the only teacher that he had ever really respected. You might hate her, you might fear her, but *by God* she taught you how to think. Since this was the first time he had gotten even the smallest compliment from her, he was willing to overlook the slight criticism attached to it. "Hey, at least I got the right solar system, Mrs. E. So, you're teaching high school these days?" Feeling a slight tremble in the hand on his arm, he immediately grew concerned. "Are you sure you're all right?" "Don't worry about me, young man. Your partner fixed me up just fine. They just caught me by surprise. If I had known California would be filled with imaginary monsters, I would have stayed in New York." "Excuse me," interrupted Elle, "did you say they? We only saw one." "Oh my, yes! There were two of them; a large bearded man with long black hair, and a small boy, about ten I think, with the sweetest face." The alien teacher grimaced. "At least it *was* sweet until the little creature bit me. Oddly enough, I got the impression that *he* was the one in charge." Elle turned to Buffy, who was beginning to look a little worried. "You didn't happen to ... *take care* of him before we got here?" she asked hopefully. Buffy shook her head. "Uh uh, and believe me," she said savagely, "if I'd seen the little bastard I would have! He's been the acting vampire king around here since the Master died, and is a lot more dangerous than he looks." Jay looked at Buffy, realizing for the first time this was a lot more complicated than he had originally thought. Making a decision, he put his shades back in his pocket and motioned to Elle to do the same. "I think," he said carefully, "we have a *LOT* to talk about." * * * * * Following Giles suggestion, the five of them retired to the library to continue the discussion. Since there had been no dire prophecies pending, Willow and Xander had long since gone home to spend the night trying to catch up on their outstanding homework, and Ms. Calendar was in the computer lab on the other side of the building installing the latest antivirus upgrades. After making sure the door was locked against unwanted intrusions, Giles attempted to explain the basics of vampires, Slayers, and Hellmouths to the increasingly incredulous MiBs. "Excuse me," Jay interrupted at on point, "Let me get this straight. Every night, Buffy goes out, kills a few vampires or whatever other monsters happen to lurking in the shadows, then goes home to get some sleep. And nobody has a clue this is happening? Unbelievable!" "That's exactly it," Giles explaimed, "it's unbelievable. Most people don't *want* to believe that monsters are real, that their safe little world has things so dark and horrifying that they can drive one to madness. And if they see even a glimpse of the truth, they do their best to convince themselves that it didn't happen, that it was an illusion, a deception, a product of mass hysteria. They will swallow any lie that allows them to believe that the world is a normal, sane place." "Jay, you must know this already," chided Mrs. Edelson, "it's what makes your work possible. All the technical tricks and elaborate cover-ups in the world wouldn't mean a thing if people really wanted to believe. Not that on some level they aren't *aware* of the truth; they have to be, in order to deny it effectively." Seeing the tabloid that was still resting on Giles desk, she picked it up and waved it before them. "That is why these things sell. They tell the truth in a way that is easy to deny; thus the need for information and deniablity are both satisfied. Don't worry, this period of denial is something all races go through in their infancy. If your race manages to survive the next century or so it should be ready for the next step." "Which I suppose is something I wouldn't understand even if you explained it to me," quipped jay, familiar with way conversations with extees tended to go. "I always said you were a bright boy," she answered with the first genuine smile he ever seen on her face. "All this philosophy is well and good," declared Elle trying to keep the conversation on track, "but what I'd like to know is how we are supposed to contain this situation. Is this Anointed One of yours likely to telling other vampires that there are aliens here in Sunnydale?" "I doubt it," said a voice from the shadows, startling all but Buffy who had been waiting for him to speak. "Knowledge like that is power, and Colin won't spread it around until he figures out exactly how to use it to his best advantage. If I were you, I'd tell every alien in a hundred mile radius to get out or go to ground; his first step will probably involve kidnapping one to get some advanced alien technology, either by hypnotism, torture, or making it a vampire." Out of the shadows stepped an incredibly handsome young man in a black leather jacket, white tee shirt and jeans. "Thank you very much for the analysis," said Jay, as he casually placed his hand near the belt holster holding his `Noisy Cricket'. "If you don't mind, just who are you, and how do you know this." "My name is Angel, and I know this because, once upon a time, I would have done the same thing." * * * * * AUTHOR'S NOTE: While the movie didn't say which of Jupiter's moons Mrs. Edelson came from, the novelization mentioned Titan. BTW, the first aid kits idea was mine. (10 alien, 1 human, 1 stasis kit) How many of you guessed who the mystery contact was? Be honest! (Remember, THEY see EVERYTHING. Fnord.) - -- +-------------------------------------------------+ | Dalton S. Spence, B.Sc. | | Home Page: http://www.hwcn.org/~ag775/home.html | +-------------------------------------------------+ ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 24 Aug 1997 11:35:26 -0400 (EDT) From: dalton.spence@hwcn.org Subject: BUFFYFIC: Reflections: W.I.F. (02/?) by D.Spence 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 2/? *Greece, in the "Age of Heros" (cont.)* "We've got to warn them," muttered Joxer as he digested Ares' prophecy. "Who? Oh, you mean our descendants. No problem!" said Gabrielle. "I'll just tack the prophecy onto the epic I'm making about this adventure. That should do it." //Oh dear,// thought Xena, slightly amused by the arrogance of her friend's proposal, //I think she's been hanging around Joxer and Autolycus too much.// "That will work only if our descendants know who they are. We are talking about thousands of years here. Even the oldest royal families have trouble tracking their lineage more than a couple of centuries." "Even if your epic survived, it might do more harm than good!" Joxer complained. "I doubt Callisto would fall for the same trick twice, and because it worked before they might be tempted to try it again." "If only the crystal of Chronos hadn't been smashed," Gabrielle (pardon the expression) mused, "we could warn them in person. Maybe even help them." As she watched her friend, she noticed a smile start to form on her lips. Xena's smile was one that had made many a seasoned warrior scramble either for his sword or to take cover, but to Gabrielle it meant only one thing. "You've thought of an idea, haven't you?" "You know that history records the theft of the Chronos crystal as on of the earliest of Autolycus's exploits?" Gabrielle nodded. "According to Hercules, history was revised to make that so. In a former reality, he failed in his first attempt, but succeeded in one just a few months ago. When Hercules tried to retrieve the crystal, in the struggle they activated it and went back to the time of the first attempt, accidentally smashing it on arrival. Autolycus then teamed up with his younger self to steal the crystal in the past, but since his younger self was a bit of a hot head, eventually he had to do it himself. He and Hercules returned to the present, and Hercules smashed the crystal to make sure it wasn't misused." "But ... but ..." Gabrielle stammered, unsure what question to ask first. "I know, the story is full of paradoxes, but when you think about it, a story involving time travel would have to be. Is the past the time traveller remembers any less real than the new one caused by his actions? I only know this; the fates showed me the world as it would have been had I not become a warrior, and it seemed just as real as this one." "A very nice story, I'm sure," said Joxer, puzzled, "but what has it to do with the price of olives in Corinth? From what you say, the crystal was destroyed *TWICE*. Either way, it's gone." "At least in this reality, but maybe not in another. And how can something like that be destroyed so easily? Surely to manipulate time as it does, it must exist outside of time." Seeing the other's confusion, Xena explained, "Autolycus told Hercules that he had kept the shards in a small leather bag as a momento, but when he'd looked in the bag the next day, they were gone." "You mean it still might exist?" asked Joxer hopefully. "Or will," confirmed Xena. * * * * * *The Master's Secret Vault, 1530 h PDT* One of the first things that Giles had learned about the occult was that there were no coincidences, only destiny. So when the pedestal where Callisto had stood started making a grinding noise, and a ceramic tube rolled out of a slot in the base to stop at his feet, he felt no hesitation in picking it up and breaking the seal at one end. Inside was a small parchment scroll, miraculously preserved, and a large, multifaceted crystal that faintly glowed with its own light. Carefully, he put the crystal in hid jacket pocket, then unrolled the scroll and held it up to the light. "Uh, Giles," Xander questioned nervously, "should you be doing that? After all, you are the one who said not to touch anything." "Extraordinary!" muttered Giles, ignoring the others, "This is all written in a version of Ancient Greek, a language that I shouldn't understand at all but I somehow do. It tells the story how Callisto was captured, and predicts the circumstances of her release. Good Lord!" He looked at his three teenage companions in astonishment. "According to this prophecy, you are all direct descendants of the three who imprisoned Callisto in the first place." Seeing that none of the others seemed terribly surprised, he asked, "Or did you know this already?" Willow was the first to speak up. "Xander and I didn't know about Buffy, at least not until she mentioned her great aunt. You see, my maternal grandmother was Melinda Pappas, Dr. Covington's friend and colleague, and Xander's great uncle was Jack Kleinman, who was with them when they found the Xena scrolls. We discovered the connection when Xander tried to tell me the story of the event, one I already knew." "Small world, isn't it?" Buffy commented. "You know, when Merrick first showed up and told me I was the Slayer, I wondered if it was because Auntie Jan's relationship to Gabrielle. This destiny thing is starting to get out of hand." "Tell me about it," moaned Xander, "I wonder what evil god *your* descendant is destined to resurrect in another half century?" "You mean this happened before?" asked Giles, thoroughly confused. Xander nodded. "Last time it was Willow's grandmother that nearly released Ares into the middle of the Second World War." Giles held up his hand to stop any further explanation. "I don't think I want to know." He turned back to the scroll in his hands. "Oh, dear," he said, becoming quite pale, "this is the first time any prophecy I've read included me." "Huh?" the teenagers uttered simultaneously. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the crystal and looked at it, fascinated. "This is supposed to be the Crystal of Chronos, which I'm instructed to use to retrieve your ancestors from the past. The instructions are quite detailed, and specify exactly what I may and may not tell them." "To prevent paradoxes, probably," Xander said. "Hey, I read enough science fiction to know that, at least. I don't suppose there is any allowance to use it for personal business?" Seeing the Watcher's severe expression, he quickly added, "That's what I thought. Oh well, I'd probably foul it up, anyway. How does it work?" "There is a detailed description of a certain conversation that I'm supposed to use to fix the place and point in time. I just hold the crystal like this, concentrate on the scene, and ..." * * * * * *Greece, in the "Age of Heros" (cont.)* "... there I am. Or rather here, I suppose," finished the startled Watcher, looking at the equally startled faces around the clearing. As Joxer struggled to draw his sword and Gabrielle gripped her staff to assume a fighting stance, Xena seemed relaxed at the stranger's sudden appearance. "Welcome," she said, surprising everyone present, "I've been expecting you." "You *know* this guy?" asked Joxer, watching the oddly dressed interloper with grave suspicion. "Not exactly," admitted Xena, "but I believe he's come a *very* long way to solve the problem we've been discussing." No one ever said that Rupert Giles was slow on the uptake (except for Ms. Calendar, but *that* is another story). "You decided you would need help from the future, so you deliberately memorized the conversation to provide a reference point for my arrival. Brilliant! Why did you chose *this* moment, rather than later when you had time to prepare?" Xena just looked at him a moment, then asked, "Is there really anything we could do that would *possibly* prepare us for the world you come from? Be honest." Giles looked pensive for a moment, then shrugged. "I suppose not, but how could you know that?" The dark haired warrior woman just smiled, but showed no signs of answering his question. "I take it you're Xena?" She nodded, but still remained silent. "Then you two must be Gabrielle the bard and Joxer the brave." The young man seemed quite pleased by this recognition, but the blond bard (he could see the resemblance to Buffy) was unimpressed. "You have the advantage of us, I think. Just who are you, anyway?" "Excuse my bad manners," he replied, a bit embarrassed, "I am Rupert of the family Giles, a historian of sorts, who has the privilege of training your descendant to be our world's defender against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. As you may have gathered, I come from the time when the prophecy you were just discussing has come true. We need your help to defeat Callisto. I followed the instructions you left for me ,,," "What instructions? We haven't written any instructions. And how did you get the Chronos crystal?" Gabrielle was far from certain this man was on the level, no matter how innocuous he looked. "You may not have written the instructions yet, but you will. As to the crystal, I found it with the instructions. I don't know how it got there." Giles *did* have some rather odd suspicions, but he kept those to himself. "I'd love to stand here chatting with you, but if I stay much longer I may have trouble focussing on my point of return. You see, this trip was sort of an accident. I really hadn't planned on making this trip right now, and wasn't at all prepared. The crystal is apparently very sensitive, and it seems just reading the instructions while holding it was enough. Could you please come with me now?" Gabrielle looked at Xena and Joxer and asked, "Do we have a choice?" already knowing the answer. Joxer pretended to think. "Well, we could leave it to your world saving descendent ..." Seeing Xena's impatient glower, he relented. "All right. The things we do for family." <-- to be continued --> - -- +-------------------------------------------------+ | Dalton S. Spence, B.Sc. | | Home Page: http://www.hwcn.org/~ag775/home.html | +-------------------------------------------------+ ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 24 Aug 1997 16:00:25 -0400 From: Jesse Jou Subject: BUFFYFIC: Gone 3: The God of Nine Walls 1/? by JJ Beach Blanket Buffy is at a stand still right now. I'm working some stuff out in my head. But in the interim, I've been bugged by this, so I may as well get it started. As always, feedback is greatly welcomed and appreciated. JJ Title: Gone 3: The God of Nine Walls Author: JJ email address: jjou@mail.med.cornell.edu Distribution: With permission of the author Spoiler Warning: No spoilers for any real episode Rating: PG Warnings: Nudity Classification: UTB Summary: Inspired by Anya's original Gone... story, I wrote a sequel that followed Willow and Angel to Europe, where they met the infamous Brother Luca, who took Willow away to train with the Order of Our Lady of Demonic Assassinations, while Angel returned to Sunnydale. I had left enough loose threads in that story to warrant a third part and this is it. Both Gone... and Gone II can be found on the Slayer's Fanfic Archive. I would recommend reading the previous stories, but if you are not of a mind to do so, all you really need to know is that Willow was turned into a quasivampiric killer by the Anointed One and had to leave Sunnydale after her death was faked. Buffy and Xander grieved, finding out their friend was lost to them forever. Disclaimer: I don't own these characters except for the ones who haven't shown up on the show; Joss Whedon, the WB, and their associated production companies do. Our Lady of Demonic Assassinations is the invention of my evil twin sister, Lisa Rose. I'm also not making a red cent of any of this, so there's no point in suing me. Part 1 Professor Harris finished his lecture on the role of bull worship at Catal Huyuk to healthy applause from the full lecture hall. His "Mythological Perspectives in 20th Century Archaelogy" course was considered one of the best classes on campus not only for the interesting topic but also for the charismatic professor who taught it, the youngest member of the faculty with full-tenure at George Underwood Easterman University in Sunnydale, California. He was of average height with a full head of dark hair, an easy grin, scruffy goatee, and intense eyebrows. The girls on campus called him Professor "Handsome," although he was notorious for being a scrupulous gentleman with the ladies. "In conclusion," he began, finishing his last oratory before Fall finals, "I hope this course has inspired some of you to investigate the wealth of history in the human imagination, taught others of you how to question the world around you, and helped the rest of you get into the grad school of your choice." There was a smattering of laughter. "But the latter is highly doubtful," he dead-panned, which made the class roar. "My office hours are as always. Smoke 'em if you got 'em." As the students filed out of the lecture hall, a few lingered to ask questions about the day's lecture, to request extensions on final papers, and to shake hands with the professor and thank him. When all supplicants had been satisfied, Professor Harris made his way to his office. "Alex!" someone shouted behind him. It was Bob Abercrombie from Cultural Anthropology. He was a portly man in his mid-forties, pear-shaped and balding, but with a warm face and bright eyes. "Hey!" Alexander Harris replied, holding out his hand, which Abercrombie shook vigorously, falling in step with the younger man. "Great article in Contemp Ling," Alex complimented him. Bob blushed, "Thanks. But listen, I was wondering if you had a chance to look over that grant application?" "Yeah," Alex said, opening his leather satchel and digging out a heft of paper bound by a rubberband. "It looks good, but you're going to need to back the data up more. I've got a couple of references that might help." They had reached Alex's office. The screensaver had frozen and the window "You have new mail." had popped up on his computer screen. Alex dug out a folder from the pile on his desk and flipped through it quickly. With a grin, he handed it to Bob who flipped through it, impressed with the scholarship. "Great!" he enthused, "This is exactly what I needed." "Glad to be of help." Bob's face grew serious for a second. "Listen, Al. My wife--her sister's in town. Really attractive. If you like..." It was Alex's turn to blush as he smiled broadly, "Er, thanks, Bob, but I'm really not into blind dates." Bob backed off, throwing his hands up with a laugh. "Okay! It was Alicia's idea. It's just that picture looks a little lonely and dated," he said, pointedly indicating the photograph on the desk of Alex carrying a pretty girl with long red hair piggyback. Alex picked it up. How long ago had this been taken? The summer before sophmore year. He remembered that Willow used to keep a copy of it next to her computer. "What's that about never forgetting your first love?" he responded ruefully. Bob nodded sympathetically. "She must have been something very special." Alex smiled as Bob excused himself, "Hey, Alicia and I want you over for the dinner soon, okay?" "Sure," Alex agreed as Bob closed the door behind him. He sat down in his swiveling chair and rolled over to his computer, killing the screensaver. Among the new email were a note from cchase in Manhattan and from argyles from Bath, England. He clicked the second message. "Happy Christmas!" it read. "Sorry to hear you won't be able to get away for the break! Nikki and Samantha miss their Uncle Xander. Nikki lost another tooth yesterday; apparently she's set her mind to turning the tooth fairy into a cottage industry. Samantha progresses well with gymnastics and brought home a young man today. Remembering the holy terror you were, we are considering the convent. ;-) We're sending you a care package soon. Be well. Love, Mr. and Mrs. Giles-Calendar." - ---- Alex drove home with an old and morose Tracey Chapman CD playing. Uncle Xander, he thought, remembering Giles' email. Only Giles still called him Xander; Cordelia had long ago accepted his wish to be called Alex or Alexander, or even Al. He stopped being Xander when he got his Master's degree and started working towards his Ph.D. Xander wasn't a name that inspired much confidence in one's academic abilities, he had argued at the time. No, said a nagging voice in the back of his brain, you stopped being Xander long before that. He pushed the thought away, turning up the music's volume. The sky, which had been a sad grey the entire day, finally broke and heavy drops of rain began to pound against his windshield. "Great," he thought, turning on his wipers and headlights. The rain had not relented by the time he reached home, a two bedroom, one story house, sided with long planks of wood painted yellow. The front porch light was on a timer and was lit even now as he pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition. He quickly gathered his satchel and papers and grabbed the umbrella from the backseat. Opening the door and holding his belongings close to him, he opened the umbrella and got out into the rain, but the minute he slammed the cardoor and turned to dash for the front door, he stopped. There was someone standing on the raised porch, under the awning, a figure wearing a long overcoat and shoulder-length hair. The sound of the slamming door had startled the visitor and slowly she turned around, her face brightening as she saw the man standing by the car in the rain. He squinted to make the woman out. No, Xander thought. It wasn't a woman. It was a ghost. A ghost named Willow Rosenberg. - ---- From the front porch, Willow watched him standing agog in the rain. His leather satchel and papers fell away from him. The umbrella slipped from his fingers. He shifted hesistantly, uncertainly looking at her. She raised a hand in a tentative greeting. He walked slowly toward her, as the rain drenched his clothes. As he got closer, his steps became larger and quicker until finally he was bounding up the front steps to her. In a second he was crushing her tightly in his arms, lifting her into the air. "You're wet!" she squealed, feeling his strength. "I don't care!" he said, his voice muffled against her shoulder "You're holding me too tightly!" she protested, laughing joyfully. "I don't care!" he repeated, more vigorously than the first time. He set her down and looked at her. He lifted a strand of her hair, "You cut your hair!" Willow looked at him. He was a little bulkier than he had been when he was younger, his shoulders broader, his hands larger and calloused. The goatee made him look older. His face was a little worn, the skin not as elastic as it once was, but the lines on his forehead and the beginning crow's feet were the most beautiful wrinkles she had ever seen. Her hands cupped his face lovingly. "Look at you! Look at you!" she whispered. He was laughing stupidly, on the verge of sobbing, his eyes, bright with tears. "Breathe," she reminded him. "Breathe," he repeated, slowly inhaling. Tears of joy rolled freely down his face. She wiped them away. "Your things," she said, indicating the pile of soaked objects by the car. "Oh, yeah," he said, absentmindedly, reluctant to let her go. She unwound his arms from her. He sniffled and wiped his eyes. "Don't go anywhere," he demanded. "I'm not," she assured him. "Promise," he insisted. "I promise." "Promise?" he asked. "Yes," she said, in exasperation. "Go get your things!" He released her hands and keeping his eyes on her, he quickly ran back out into the rain and gathered his scattered belongings. He came back up to her and fumbled out his keys. He saw a small piece of luggage at her feet. He reached down and grabbed it as he unlocked the door. "Come in, come in," he welcomed her, pushing the door open with his back. - ---- end Part 1 ------------------------------ End of buffyfic Digest V1 #16 ***************************** To subscribe to buffyfic Digest, send the command: subscribe buffyfic-digest in the body of a message to "majordomo@xmission.com". 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