From: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com (buffyfic Digest) To: buffyfic-digest@xmission.com Subject: buffyfic Digest V1 #28 Reply-To: buffyfic@xmission.com Sender: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com Errors-To: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com Precedence: buffyfic Digest Thursday, September 4 1997 Volume 01 : Number 028 In this issue: BUFFYFIC: Summer Vacation -- Xander (3/3) BUFFYFIC: Summer Vacation -- Xander (2/3) BUFFYFIC: Technical Assistance (An Archive fanfic) BUFFYFIC: Beach Blanket Buffy 12/? 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: Thu, 4 Sep 1997 07:54:07 -0700 From: lizbet@primenet.com (Elizabeth Ann Lewis) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Summer Vacation -- Xander (3/3) What I Did On My Summer Vacation... Xander by Elizabeth Ann Lewis Disclaimers: See Author's Notes lizbet@primenet.com He stared at the small mound of turned earth. He'd found the possum before anyone else was up, and buried it before the others could see it. He didn't know if La Charona's ax or Hook Guy's slicer/dicer had done the work, but it had the same effect. Luckily, Miranda didn't come equipped with sharp objects, although he'd rather not meet a walking one-armed decomposing corpse, if it was all the same. "Okay, now what do I do?" he asked the silent woods. They didn't have an answer for him. "You know, when all this weird stuff started happening," he said conversationally to a pinecone, "I pretty much knew what to do. Sic Buffy on it. I mean, she's the Slayer, she's good at fighting supernatural bad guys. But we're miles from anywhere, my mom's not going to be picking us up for another two days, and Buffy's in LA. So... that leaves me. Me, Xander, fighting the forces of evil." He would have thought he'd feel strong and mighty at the thought. Xander, facing down the bad guys. Instead, he was scared to death. Of course, he had been before. When he followed Buffy down into the electrical tunnel to rescue Jesse. When he and Willow and Giles had gone into the Bronze to rescue everyone from the Harvest. When he and Buffy had gone to rescue Willow from the demon in a tin can. When he and Angel had gone down to rescue Buffy from the Master. "Of course, there's one word that keeps popping up in each one of those examples," Xander continued to the sympathetic pinecone. "'And.' There was always someone else along for the ride. Geeze, how does Buffy handle this on her own all the time?" Options. He needed options. They could fight. That was his gut instinct. Bad things attack you, you fight back. Clean, simple, and it didn't take too much planning. Except that was iffy when you were fighting things that all seemed to be back-from-the-dead things. *Could* they die? Xander started pacing through the woods, keeping an eye out for ghoulies and ghosties, but they seemed to generally be nocturnal creatures. They had been created by stories, old stories repeated time and time again, told by kids around a campfire. Could they be made to leave the same way? By the time it started getting dark, Xander though he knew what he was going to do. He collected massive amounts of firewood, to keep the fire high and bright. He kept a few sturdy sticks handy, in case hand-to-hand combat actually happened. Wendell and Pete showed up on time for dinner. But neither of them had seen Josh. "I think he went to the rocks," Pete said, pointing at the cliffs that were too tempting for a teenage boy to ignore. "We all agreed that we wouldn't go wandering after dark," Xander argued. Impatiently, he opened a backpack and yanked out a fluorescent lantern. "Hey, Xander, chill." Wendell put his hand on Xander's arm. "Maybe he just forgot. You know Josh, he may have decided to blow us off and keep climbing just because he wanted to. Hell, he may be hiding in the trees listening to us and laughing his ass off." Xander switched on the lantern, cutting a stream of blue-white light through the darkening woods. "You two stay here, okay? By the fire. I'm going to go look for him." "Xander... you think there's something out there?" Pete's newly-baritone voice trembled into treble for a few notes. Xander considered for a moment. "Nah," he lied. "But there might be... um, bears. Yeah. Or mountain lions. Better stay by the fire." Five minutes later, he was wishing himself back with Wendell and Pete. It was *dark* at night. And really, really quiet. So quiet, you'd think you'd hear someone sneaking up behind you really easily -- unless, of course, it was a ghost and could glide over the crackling pine needles. "Josh?" Xander croaked out. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Josh!" It was hard to shout in that silence, hard to attract attention in the night. But Xander gripped his makeshift club tighter and headed off to the rocks. There didn't seem to be anyone there, but Xander persisted, clambering around, shining his light into various crevices. "Josh?" he called, his voice bouncing oddly off the rocks, reflected and refracted around him. ~One more. One more little cave, one more minute. Then I'm heading back and Josh can just find his own way--~ "Aaagh!" he and Josh shrieked at once. The light from the lantern caught Josh full in the eyes from where he had been cowering in the tiny depression in the rock, and the glitter had startled Xander. Xander nearly lost his balance and tumbled backwards. "Man, what are you doing here?" Xander snapped, furious and scared, and *more* furious because he was scared. "Sssssssh!" Josh hissed. "He's out there!" "So are you, Josh. Come on." "No! He's out there, I heard him. He was calling my name." "That was me," Xander said patiently. "Come on, we'll be safer by the fire." "I'm telling you, I saw him. Awhile ago. How long have you been here?" Xander shrugged. "I didn't check my watch. Five minutes, maybe." "I saw him before that. Right after the sun went down. He was big - -- huge, seven feet tall and built like a linebacker. And he...." Josh gulped. "He had a hook on one of his hands." Xander felt a shiver of fear work its way down his body from his scalp to his toes. ~This is so very, very, majorly bad...~ "Josh, we can't stay here. We've got to get back to the fire. To Wendell and Pete. We're not safe up here." "You believe me?" Josh said gratefully. "Yeah. Yeah, man, I believe you. Come on, let's go." ******** By the time they got back to the camp site, Josh had recovered completely from his brief bout with humility. "What, you thought I really saw some guy with silverware as an appendage?" He snickered at the thought. "Get real, Xander!" "Weirder things have been known to happen," Xander muttered. Pete had given in to the inevitable and had already cooked dinner, a largely inedible meal of burned beans and charred trout. "It took you guys too long to come back," he said sheepishly. Josh leaned back on his sleeping bag and sighed, crossing his arms behind his head and staring up at the stars. "Aaaaaah. Tomorrow -- civilization! A Big Mac!" "Running water," Pete chimed in. "TV," Wendell contributed. "Nintendo!" Pete, Wendell and Josh chorused. "Yeah, yeah. You guys are a bunch of wimps. You don't have any appreciation for meeting Mother Nature on her own terms." Xander tried to sound noble, but flush toilets were looking more and more attractive. Not to mention that Men in Black was opening soon... However, they still had this little problem to clear up. Hopefully, they would be safe for the night. The fire had enough wood to burn until morning, and they would head out in daylight. But the next group of campers who came up there would get to face Hook Guy, Hatchet Lady and Putrefying Polly. Not a good scene. "Okay, my turn to tell a story." Xander paused for a moment to listen. There wasn't any sound other than the snap of the fire and the murmurs of the three other guys. Even the wind seemed to have stilled. He mentally crossed fingers and toes in the hopes that his idea would work -- ~Hey, I'm not Knowledge Man, that's Giles's job!~ -- and dove in. "You know that bend in the road, near the river back in town? You know how it's got guard rails up and reflectors and everything? Well, one night, this truck driver was going through there, and he almost runs over this girl who's standing on the side of the road." There was a loud *snap* of a twig, out in the forest beyond them, as though a large man had shifted his weight, waiting. A point of light glanced off something in that direction, gleaming silver in the shadows. Xander gulped and continued. "It's pouring rain, thunder and lightning and everything. So, this girl flags him down. She's wearing a long, white dress, and she's soaking wet..." ~Buffy in a long white dress, face down in the pool, not breathing, not moving, not *living*...~ "...and she says that her boyfriend ran his car into the river on the way to the prom. He's hurt really bad, and she needs a ride back to town to call the police. The truck driver tries to call in the accident on his radio, but he gets nothing but static. Figures it's the lightning, and doesn't worry about it." A long shriek echoed through the night, a woman's cry, flavored with absolute insanity. "What was that?" Pete asked fearfully. "A mountain lion or something," Wendell said calmly. "Oh. Okay. Go on, Xander." Hidden in shadows, Xander's hands clenched and unclenched. Sweat that the fire wasn't responsible for beaded his forehead. "So, ah, so he takes her to her parents' house, like she asks him to. He's involved with setting the brake and everything, and when he looks up -- she's gone. Nothing there but a wet spot on the seat and a silk scarf." ~Swish-THUMP. Swish-THUMP.~ Xander started talking faster. "The guy thinks that she left the cab when he wasn't looking, forgetting her scarf. So he gets out and goes to the front door. An older guy answers it, and the truck driver tells him that the girl left her scarf in his truck. 'Yes, this is my daughter's scarf,' the older guy says, very sadly. 'She died when her boyfriend crashed his car into the river on the way to the prom, twelve years ago.'" Xander paused and took a deep breath. This was the important part. "You see, the things that don't belong in this world sometimes wander over into our world. But when their time is up, they disappear -- poof -- into thin air. They have no power to harm anyone here. They're not a part of our world, and they go away." Nothing. Silence. No sound from the woods. Nothing at all. "That was okay," Wendell said. "But you could've have picked a scarier one." "That ending part was weird," Josh complained. "It ruined the whole story." "I think Wendell's was best," Pete said, casting his vote. "Hey, *mine* was the best! You had nightmares about it, remember?" "Did not!" "Did to!" "Did not!" Xander settled down to sleep, listening to Pete and Josh bicker. And slept dreamlessly. ******** Just before dawn, Xander woke up. He packed all his gear, grabbed some raisins out of the dwindling rations, and went to check out the surrounding area. There were no new marks on the trees, no mutilated animals, no furrows dug by a dragging foot. Just quiet, and stillness, and the breath of the forest. Surrounded by the whisper of the wind, the scent of sap and leaves and earth, Xander smiled. "Way to go, dude." ******** "So how was the trip?" Xander's mom asked as the four boys piled into her station wagon. "Way cool, Mrs. Harris," Wendell grinned. "Yeah, I caught a lot of fish," Pete bragged. "Me, big man, lord of the forest." Josh beat his chest with his fists. "Oh, man, we are *not* letting you see George of the Jungle," Wendell groaned. "Xander? You're awfully quiet. Didn't you have a good time?" By long practice, Xander was able to gracefully duck his mother's fussing hand over his hair. "Sure. It was cool." "'It was cool'? That's all you can say? You didn't enjoy yourself?" "Yeah, I did." Dawning understanding appeared in Xander's voice. "I really did." "Well, good." Xander's mom smiled at him and started the engine. "And *I* won the ghost story telling contest," Josh bragged. "Did not." "Did too!" "Did not..." THE END ******************************** Special thanks on this one go to my future roomie Celli and Val, who supplied me with the ghost stories. Val even dug out her copy of Women Who Run With Wolves to get me a fabulous version of La Llorena... - -~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~ High Priestess Lizbet of the Cult of Joss -~*~- {{>AGA<}} lizbet@primenet.com ~*~ Lizbetann@aol.com ~*~ Keeper of Joss's Evil Brain SunS List Co-Mummy: "If the Apocalypse comes, beep me." ~*~ "God made relativity and God made marijuana and the two are not entirely unrelated." -- Boo ~*~ http://www.primenet.com/~lizbet/ ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 4 Sep 1997 07:54:02 -0700 From: lizbet@primenet.com (Elizabeth Ann Lewis) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Summer Vacation -- Xander (2/3) What I Did On My Summer Vacation... Xander by Elizabeth Ann Lewis Disclaimers: See Author's Notes lizbet@primenet.com "I caught something! I caught something!!!" Pete came running from the river, a large silver trout flopping in his hands. He held it out proudly to the three boys gathered at the campsite. "Wow. That's some maximum fish, Pete," Wendell said admiringly. "Yeah. That's a lot of food." Josh's praise was somewhat grudging, but honest. "We've got a pan, we can fry it. It should feed all of us," Xander said. "One question," Wendell said. "Who's gonna clean it?" Pete looked at Josh. Josh looked at Xander. Xander looked at Wendell. Josh, Xander, and Wendell looked at Pete. Pete backed off, his prize still clutched in his grasp. "Uh-uh. No way. *I* caught it, one of *you* clean it." "Nope." "No way." "Thanks, but *not*! I'm not that hungry for fresh fish." Pete sighed in resignation. "Okay, fine. Give me the knife." Two hours later, the somewhat tattered filets of Pete's trout were cooked and consumed. The sun was down, the stars shining through the trees. The wind rustled the pine needles, making it seem as though they were surrounded by voices speaking just under the level of their hearing. It was a night made for ghost stories. "Pete? You're up. What story are you going to tell us?" Pete poked the fire slightly, sending a shower of sparks into the air. "I don't know that many," he hedged. "You've got to know *some*," Josh protested. "Yeah, there's this one... it's about this girl. Her name's Miranda, and she's a babe. Really gorgeous, long blond hair, blue eyes. The only thing wrong with her is that she's missing an arm." "Eeew," Wendell said. Pete flashed him a grin and continued. "But her family's really rich, you see, and they could afford to have one made for her. And they made it out of solid gold. Anyway, her family dies, and she inherits all the money. And this guy marries her. She thinks he married her for love, but he just wants all her money. But she's got control of the money. So - -- he kills her." Pete drew a line across his neck with a finger and made a slicing sound. "So he gets all her money and he has a blast. But he spends it really fast, and needs more. Then he remembers... the arm. They buried the golden arm with her. That much gold... that would get him a lot of cash, real fast." Getting into the rhythm of the story, Pete continued, "So one night, he goes out to the graveyard, just him, 'cause he doesn't want anyone to know what he was doing. And he digs up Miranda's coffin, and opens it, and pulls the arm out of the dress she was buried in. And her corpse is all gross, you know, decomposing and smelly. He closed up the coffin real fast and reburies it. Then he melts down the arm and sells the gold, and he's living fine again. "One night, he's drunk and alone in his house, when he hears footsteps. Sort of 'swish-THUMP,' like the Mummy. He thinks he's just imagining it, but it comes again. 'Swish-THUMP.' 'Who's there?' he shouts out, but no one answers. 'Swish-THUMP.' Then he sees the silhouette of a woman in the window, and thinks it's a chick that followed him home. So he opens the door. "And it's Miranda. Her face is all falling off of the bones and she's got black moss in her hair. Her body's really stiff, which was why she was dragging one leg. So she comes into the house, and the guy stumbles back, really scared. He's got to convince her that he didn't steal her arm, that he was in love with her. So he sort of stutters out, 'Miranda, my love, what has happened to your beautiful golden hair?'" Pete dropped his voice to a hoarse grind. "'All withered and wasted away.' "'But Miranda, my love, what has happened to your lovely sky-blue eyes?' "All withered and wasted away.' "And Miranda, my love, what has happened to your clear sweet voice?' Pete paused briefly to cough, the rough voice playing havoc with his throat. "'All withered and wasted away.' "Now, this guy is calming down, because she hasn't gotten any closer to him. He figures that she doesn't know who took her arm. So he asks her, 'But... but, Miranda, my love, what has happened to your beautiful golden arm?' "'YOU HAVE IT!'" With a fine sense of showmanship, Pete tossed a big chunk of wood onto the fire as he shouted Miranda's last words. The fire flared up brightly, driving the other boys back. When it settled back into merrily crackling again, the three of them were still breathing hard. "Wow," Xander said. "I've heard that story a hundred times before, but that was really good." "Thanks," Pete said modestly. "Yeah," Wendell agreed. "So, how gross did she look...?" Wendell didn't dream again that night. Xander knew that for a fact, because he woke several times during the night. Each time hearing the "swish-THUMP" of a corpse's footsteps. ******** The day passed quietly enough. Wendell spent it out in the woods, finding creatures that would have given Willow serious wig. Josh tried to build a lean-to by weaving together branches, and by the end of the day proudly showed off his lopsided wall. Pete left his early-morning catch in a basket in the river to keep cool, and went rock climbing. And Xander tried to convince himself that no way, no how had he seen what he thought he saw. It was a bear, or something, sharpening its claws on the tree. Okay, so it was sharpening *a* claw on a tree. It alarmed him that a bear was more comforting than the alternative. And he made up the dragging footsteps he'd heard the night before. Power of suggestion, or something. No way he heard Miranda wandering through the wood. Nuh-huh. And there had to be an explanation for the furrows dug in the blanket of pine needles carpeting the forest floor. That night, when the fire was dying down and they were bunked out for sleep, Josh claimed his turn. "I don't wanna wait. Xander, you can go tomorrow. Top me if you can. This story is gonna scare you so bad," he said, cackling madly. "Uh, Josh, I'm really beat. Why don't we just go to sleep?" Xander tried. "What, you're too *scared* to hear my story?" Josh taunted. "Fine by me, you can go sit somewhere else while I tell it. Alone. In the *dark.*" ~This is a baaaaaad idea,~ Xander thought, but didn't say anything. Any more protests and his friends would think he really was chicken. After all, it could just be his imagination. It had to be his imagination. "Okay, this is the story my dad told me. He said that years and years ago, when he was camping out here with his buds, they were warned to keep an eye out for this woman, La Charona. You see, when the Spanish lived here, she had two kids with a guy who owned a ranch. She was poor, so poor he didn't want to marry her, because he was greedy and wanted a rich wife. But she had two sons, and the rich wife that he marries can't have any kids. So the jerk kidnaps her kids and claims that they are the children of his wife. "So, anyway, La Charona flips out. She goes to the ranch house and kills everyone in there. She takes a big ax, and chops up her lover and his wife. And she's so insane that she chops up her own kids too. She kills anyone who gets in her way. "But then she realizes what she has done, that she's killed her own kids. But she's crazy, so she's convinced they're out there, somewhere. She thinks that if she can look into their eyes, she will recognize them. So don't sleep on your back when you sleep out under the stars, because she'll hover over you and wait for you to open your eyes. If she recognizes you as one of her kids, you're safe. But if not... SHE'LL CHOP YOU INTO BITS!!!" Dead silence fell. "Whoa," Pete breathed. "Not bad," Wendell said judiciously. It was, of course, only the cold breeze that had him pulling his sleeping bag more tightly around him. "Yeah, great story, Josh," Xander said weakly. Terrific. If his theory was right, he now had an ax-wielding mother to deal with as well as a homicidal maniac with a meat hook for a hand and a rotting zombie chick. He was crazy. No way that their stories were coming to life. Except... how far away were they from the Hellmouth? How far away did they *have* to be for it to be safe? Giles had said the Hellmouth was closed, but then, it had been closed for all but about an hour on prom night, and still the energy from it had leaked above. Restless, Xander finally fell asleep. And in his dreams, Buffy was there, smiling at him. "Xander, you know that I've always wanted to be with you. Angel... well, he was just a fling. You know, tall, dark and handsome." Her voice dropped, softened. "It's always been you." "Buffy...." His dream-hands reached for her -- and she turned and slammed a stake into his heart. "What... what did you do that for?" he choked out. "I'm not a vampire!" She tilted her head and shrugged slightly. "Ooops." Right before Xander died, a shriek from one of the other boys woke him up from his nightmare. "Pete! Pete, what is it?" Wendell asked, shaking the other boy. "It... it was that woman! The one from the story! Man, I swear it! I opened my eyes and she was leaning over me with an ax! Swear to God!" Josh snickered. "Guess I win the ghost storytelling contest, huh?" "I'm serious! I saw her!" Pete insisted. "Look, man, you were dreaming," Wendell told him. "She can't exist. It's just a story, remember?" "Yeah. Yeah, right. Just a story. Sorry I woke you guys up," Pete mumbled miserably. The three of them all turned over and recaptured sleep. Xander lay awake until dawn. - -~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~ Continued in Part 3... High Priestess Lizbet of the Cult of Joss -~*~- {{>AGA<}} lizbet@primenet.com ~*~ Lizbetann@aol.com ~*~ Keeper of Joss's Evil Brain SunS List Co-Mummy: "If the Apocalypse comes, beep me." ~*~ "God made relativity and God made marijuana and the two are not entirely unrelated." -- Boo ~*~ http://www.primenet.com/~lizbet/ ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 03 Sep 1997 16:26:40 -0400 From: Anya Subject: BUFFYFIC: Technical Assistance (An Archive fanfic) Technical Assistance, an Archive Fanfic by Anya anya@interlinks.net *Author's Note: SOFA - Supporters of Fanfic Addicts * Angel moved the mouse at random, hitting links as he went. There didn't seem to be a problem to him, but... "You're SURE she said that there's been error messages?" He finally asked, tossing a distracted look over his shoulder to Xander. Xander shrugged. "That's what she wrote. I haven't had any, but..." Xander puttered closer to the computer, and looked down at the screen. I get the same view you're getting. What version of Netscape are you running at home?" Angel looked rather embarrassed. "Uh, I don't. I don't own a home computer." "Really?" Xander laughed. "No wonder you spend so much time here. And Buffy thought it was 'cause of her!" Angel shrugged, "But I am here because of her...it's a fanfic site for Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfiction." He frowned down at the screen again, and randomly hit a link. The submission info jumped to view. "I still can't believe that she submitted that..." "Mush?" Xander offered helpfully. "Yeah." He didn't look up, but heard the chair beside him move, and nearly FELT Xander drop his body into it. Out of respect for the chair, Angel winced. Together, the two boys peered at the screen, waiting for some boogey-man to jump out of them. None did, which was just as well, since they weren't sure what boogey-men they were looking for. "Did you ask Willow 'bout these java-script error thingy's?" Angel finally asked Xander. "Uh..no. Not yet." Xander reached across the vampire for the mouse, but Angel's hand slapped the arm away. "Don't go there, man. Or I WILL be looking at your neck." The vampire warned, indicating their truce lines only extended so far. "Yeah, yeah..you and what army." Xander retorted, seizing control of the mouse. "Y'see..it's like this, Anya's writing a sequel to SWAK, and I'm the lead character in it..so, if you off me, Buffy won't get her sequel, and if she doesn't get her sequel, all the SOFA meetings in the world won't save you!" The dark haired vampire glowered, before lapsing into a sulk. "It's about you? I wanted it to be about ME!" Xander's grin was beatific. "From what I heard, you'll be in the story. We have to play nicely together." "Together?" The anguished strain in Angel's voice wasn't false. "Yup. Fun, huh?" "Gaaah." Angel let his head drop into his forearms. "I'm dying..again!" Xander opened his mouth to comment again, but instead shouted out gleefully as Willow walked into the library. "Willlllllloooow! Light of my life, joy of all joys, wondrous, beautiful Willow!!" Her facial expression shifted from general happiness, to caution. "What did you break?" Dark eyes flicked from the now-affectionate Xander, and a particularly relieved Angel "Oh God..you two together? What did you do? Where's the body?" Angel rose for his seat, and walked over to the alarmed hacker. Taking her bag off her shoulder, he set it gently down on the table, and rested two hands on her shoulders, while standing behind her. "Now, now..." He soothed, "No one died, we were just trying to figure out how to answer Anya's email message." Carefully, he guided her to the table, and allowed her to take his former seat. With a final pat on her shoulder, he leaned down and clicked over to mail. Willow read over the screen quickly: "Hi Everyone! It's come to my attention, that some people are having problems accessing the site. Their browsers are spouting off "javascript errors" at them. I can say with certainty, that the page works on Netscape 3.01, 4.0, and MSIE 3, and 4.0, but I can't speak for other browsers! Please, PLEASE, if you aren't able to get the page without messages, or are having any other difficulties, I need to know this. I will also need to know what Internet browser you are using, and how much memory you have available. JavaScript sometimes chokes up when there isn't enough memory. Without that info, I can't determine where the flaws lie! Thanks! - --Anya anya@interlinks.net http://SlayerFanfic.alz.com " Willow allowed this to absorb before commenting. "We don't have a problem. We're running Netscape 4, with 16 MB's ram..." She paused, her eye lighting on the headers of the and then looked at the header information. "HEY!" She declared loudly, "That was MY mail! You two were in MY mail!" Her longtime pal let his eyes go extremely wide, "We did?" He asked innocently, before leaning over to look himself. "Oh my! We did! WHAT were we thinking?" He tsked himself lightly before continuing, "I'm so sorry, Willow. I though we were looking at MY email account." Angel, behind Willow, gave Xander a quick 'thumb's up', and tight grin at the male Slayerette's quick thinking. Xander maintained his straight face. Willow pondered this for all of a millisecond, "You don't have an email account with the school!" Twisting in her chair, she glared at Angel, "And don't try telling me YOU do either!" "Not I!" Protested the vampire lightly. "I came in to use the computer and found the message already on the screen. I didn't MEAN to snoop." Willow turned back to Xander, one slim eyebrow raised inquisitively, "And in your defense, you offer?" Xander coughed, repeatedly. "Ah..well, umm...devotion to the archive?" Willow sighed, "Et tu, Brute?" She gave a despairing look to Angel, "Are we the only two with enough self control?" Angel grinned, "So, I guess that means SOFA meetings are being upped to three times a week?" Willow frowned, "At the rate of conversions, attendance will be dropping off to nil." "That's okay, it's not like we have space for them all, not until I get the Bronze's renovations done." He winked at her knowingly. (*Author's note..see Misery Loves Company *) Xander waved his hand between the grinning pair. "Hey, you two..what about Anya?" Willow patted him on the arm, "What about Anya? We don't have a problem, so I'm not going to fill up her mailbox with that comment!" Xander blinked, "Oh." He paused for a moment, before thrusting his jaw out. "Sooo..if there's no message to write, and no emergencies to research...I can play on the computer then, right?" "No!" snapped Angel, "It's still MY turn!" Willow dropped her head into her hands and shook it sadly, "Another SOFA bites the dust..." The End :) ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 4 Sep 1997 19:44:51 -0400 From: Jesse Jou Subject: BUFFYFIC: Beach Blanket Buffy 12/? by JJ Here's the next part. All comments and feedback is greatly welcomed. Thanks! JJ Title: Beach Blanket Buffy Author: JJ email address: jjou@mail.med.cornell.edu Distribution: With permission of the author Spoiler Warning: The events for this take place after Prophecy Girl and references are made to events in the past season. Rating: PG Warnings: Violence Classification: TB Summary: There's trouble in store when Buffy and the gang visit the beach! Hey, watch out for that vampire! Yes, there's fun and merriment in store when the gang plays...Beach Blanket Buffy! 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. I'm also not making a red cent of any of this, so there's no point in suing me. Part 12 Frankie stumbled into the subterranean cavern of the Crimson Sand, his missing finger healed to a misshapen stump. Annette had unwittingly exerted enough strength in her girlish slapping to shatter his rib cage, and he suddenly toppled over, vomiting clumps of coagulated blood. Upon the dais, the tigerheaded demon Rakshas Silwani rose from her divan, her Donna Karan t-shirt clinging to her supple torso. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded. "We found the emissary...there...was...a girl...with her. They killed the Four Seasons!" Frankie stammered, as two of his brethren raised him from the ground, leading him before their leader. The rakshasha's eyes flashed a tawny yellow as she growled and brought her claws down across his face. He whimpered in agony. "Fool!" she screamed. "Do you know what I've had to do to prepare myself for tomorrow?" She shuddered at the memory of the hundreds of the humans she had seduced to acquire enough tantric power to overthrow Big Kahuna. She thought of Cordelia and the boy whom Rakshas had taken from her. "I should destroy you where you stand!" She raised a finger at him. She was bluffing of course; she didn't have the power to waste on this insignificant mote. But the satisfaction she felt as Frankie threw himself before her in supplication made the gesture worthwhile. "Please, mistress!" he begged. "It was the girl! We would have beaten the Emissary if it were not for the girl." "The girl," Rakshas said, slowly. "She may be the Slayer." She kicked Frankie is the ribs, breaking them anew. "Your kind has been lucky in avoiding the Slayer. How unfortunate that she has appeared now." Rakshas remembered the young Untouchable who had been the Slayer at the last Rising. Rakshas had been hiding on the banks of the Ganges, waiting for human prey--preferably a holy man, but instead she stumbled upon the fishman who had shouted warning to the humans bathing and worshipping along the shore. His flesh had been sweet, but she could sense beneath the earth when the Crimson Sand rose. The screaming had been like music until the girl arrived in a series of complicated acrobatic flips. She quickly quelled the tide, but Rakshas had seen enough. Silwani occupied a low position among the rakshasha, but recognized within the Crimson Sand the potential to achieve her greatest dreams of power. Even Shiva and Parvati would bow before her. She followed the Crimson Sand there afterwards, observing their ways secretly, reading forbidden texts, and working her tantric magic. She was too close to her goal now to be stopped by the Slayer again. She raised her voice and spoke to the assembled vampires. "Tomorrow night will be the greatest night of our history! Yet Frankie tells us of a dangerous threat to our victory. The Slayer and the Emissary have joined forces!" Shouts of horror and anger rang through the damned. Rakshas held up her hand. "But we shall not fear them! I will lead you tomorrow to glory! None shall escape our terrible power!" The collective cheered. She looked down at the still cringing Frankie and lifted his face towards hers. "And you, my Frankie, will redeem yourself by bringing me their hearts." - --- Boomer and Cordelia strolled along the sand under the moonlight. "It's so restful out here," she observed listening to the gentle crash of the water against the sand. "It makes me miss not being alive," he responded. "You know, Cordelia, you're not like the girls from my time." She laughed. "Of course not. Girls back then were raised on Patty Duke and Barbara Billingsley. I was raised on Madonna and Cyndi Lauper." He threw her a quizzical look. "Are they like Doris Day?" Cordelia didn't know who that was. Suddenly, Boomer took her hands and stopped walking. He leaned forward and kissed her quickly and chastely on the lips. Cordelia looked at his earnest face and smiled. "I hope you don't think I'm being too fresh," he apologized. "I don't think you're, like, easy, or anything." "Gee, that's sweet," she said. He hugged her. "Oh, Cordelia," he moaned, "I don't know how long this can last, but all I know is that I feel really happy." "I know how you feel," she said, feeling safe in his arms. "Can you...can you accept that I'm a ghost?" he questioned, pain in his voice. "I think I can," she said, suddenly struck by the strangeness of the situation. "It could all be over tomorrow, or next week, or next year! When my business is finished, I'll have to leave," he mused. "Then we should enjoy it while we can," she said, locking her arm in his as they continued down the shore. - --- Buffy almost broke the door down as she rushed into the house. Xander dragged Marie roughly behind him. The mermaid had said nothing since confessing her passion for him, except moan periodically. They were unable to extract what she had done to Willow. Frightened beyond belief, they had sprinted back to the beachhouse. "Willow!" Buffy screamed, her breath coming out in uneven gasps. "Willow!" Xander called in unison. Marie stared blankly at the walls of the foyer, her eyes slowly drifting upwards to the top of the stairs. She let out a piercing scream. Buffy and Xander both looked up. "What's wrong?" Willow said, her features bearing deep concern. The two friends regarded her with amazement. Buffy was the first to speak. "Willow, your hair..." she began, her mood a mixture of relief and shock. "Do you like it?" Willow asked, the desire for approval apparent in her voice as she descended the stairs. "It's short," Buffy said cautiously. "It's a haircut," Willow countered, her eyes slightly hurt by the lack of enthusiasm. Xander stared at her, aghast. "Did...she...do that to you?" Xander eked out, tightening his grip on Marie's arm. The catatonic girl whimpered. "You don't like it," Willow concluded, fingering one of the short locks. "No!" Buffy said quickly, tears welling in her eyes. "it's not that at all. It's just I thought...I was so afraid you were dead...but all you did was *get a haircut*!...Oh, Willow, you look beautiful!" She hugged her friend tightly. Xander released Marie and she slipped to the ground and hugged the two girls. "Ditto," he whispered to Willow. The big pile of sob broke long enough so the three could look at the girl on the ground. "What should we do with her?" Buffy asked. "I don't know..." Willow said, looking sympathetically at the wreck of a mermaid. Suddenly, the back door opened and the teens could hear Cordelia and Boomer run in laughing. "Willow! We're back!" Cordelia shouted as they came into the foyer. Her cheery expression disappeared as she saw the tragic tableau that had been enacted there. "What's *she* doing here?!" Cordelia yelled at Marie, Boomer wrapping his arms protectively around her. "Get that psycho out of here before she goes Baby Jane on us!" "Cordelia," Willow said, "Maybe we should hear..." Suddenly, a figure appeared at the open front door, stopping just at the threshold, panting heavily. "Boy, you guys sure are fast! What a crazy scene!" the girl laughed, catching her breath. Boomer's arms fell away from Cordelia. "Annette?" he squeaked. The girl looked up. "Boomer?" - ---- end part 12 ------------------------------ End of buffyfic Digest V1 #28 ***************************** To subscribe to buffyfic Digest, send the command: subscribe buffyfic-digest in the body of a message to "majordomo@xmission.com". If you want to subscribe something other than the account the mail is coming from, such as a local redistribution list, then append that address to the "subscribe" command; for example, to subscribe "local-buffyfic": subscribe buffyfic-digest local-buffyfic@your.domain.net A non-digest (direct mail) version of this list is also available; to subscribe to that instead, replace all instances of "buffyfic-digest" in the commands above with "buffyfic". Back issues are available for anonymous FTP from ftp.xmission.com, in pub/lists/buffyfic/archive. These are organized by date.